She Knows the Drill

The old dog came trotting up the drive just as I walked out the door with the buckets, ready to go to the barn.  "Well, good morning, Faye.  Do you want a cookie?"  Whoever said old dogs can't learn new tricks was sadly mistaken.  Faye immediately went to the front porch and waited at the front door while I went in to get milk bones for her and Bessie Anne (can't show favoritism), and then she sat while I leashed her to the post.  Sound travels in a crazy way here in the hills...I could hear her owners calling for Faye, and I was yelling at the top of my lungs, "She's here!  Faye is here again!," but they couldn't hear me.  I phoned them and waited until Fritz came after his runaway girl.  It's one way to get to know your neighbors.  Faye happily hopped up into the truck.  I could be wrong, but I think I heard her say, "See you later," as they drove off.

After the downpour of the day before, yesterday was absolutely gorgeous.  The tinge of green I'd seen is now full blown, the pastures carpeted with half-inch grasses.  It's like a magician's trick, it happened so fast.  Still too wet to mow, I was able to take advantage of the soft ground to pull some of the six-foot, dying mullein plants in the front yard.  Pretty when they're fresh and new, they get ratty looking as summer ends.  Go-To Guy came in the afternoon to clean the chimney and, boy, did it need cleaning!  Half a bucket of creosote chunks came tumbling down.  He manned the brushes and I cleaned out the debris below.  It should be noted that I said not one word yesterday about the rain correlating with Dolly's impending visit, but it's nice to know that if history should repeat itself while she is here, I'll be able to light a fire to keep us warm.