Surprise!

I almost didn't answer the phone.  It's the time of year when the politicos start sending out their robocalls and if the number doesn't show up on caller ID...well.  Besides, NASCAR was just getting ready to start, and a gal has her priorities.  I did pick up, however, and immediately fell into a state of confusion.  The man sounded so much like my brother-in-law Glenn and made the same sort of opening remark that Glenn would make that I made that assumption and responded accordingly.  The caller invited me out to lunch.  "Oh, I'd love to.  Are you camping at the 49er?"  "Nooo.  We're at home."  "Omigosh, are you coming all the way up here?"  "Nooo.  We're at home."  The light gradually dawned that I was not speaking to Glenn.  It was Larry, of the euphonious Larry and Sherry duo from Fiddletown.  We get together maybe once a year, and agreed to meet at The Pub.  It was a grand break in the day and we had a good laugh.  Larry had figured out that I had no idea to whom I was talking and had just played along.

I had put the race on DVR and ran it back when I got home, only to see Bowyer get caught in the Talladega "big one" just at the end.  Phooey.

All being said, it was a good day.

Cool Down

It was bright and sunny in the morning and I made the mistake of putting on just a light, long-sleeved shirt over my tee-shirt to go to the barn.  There was no warmth in that sunshine and the deltas continued to blow.  Let's just say I didn't dawdle with the girls.

PBS is on track on Saturdays again with cooking shows back to back.  Even if I know I wouldn't care for a particular recipe, I feel I can always learn something new about procedure or technique.  It was years and years ago that I learned how to bang a head of lettuce on the counter to remove the core and not leave the edges to turn brown from a knife cut; something as simple as that.

It was a good day to stay inside.  I'd thought to perhaps get another yard mowed, but that chill wind made me rethink that plan.  The lowering sky at sundown was a pretty good portent of what today will be like.  Today's race will be at Talladega, famous for "the big one," so I have a ready-made excuse to stay indoors again.

Bad Hair Day

Bessie Anne was dejected because she wanted to go out and I didn't jump up to do her bidding.  I'm not the only one in the house who says, "Sigh."

It has been said that the longer they live together, people and their dogs start to look alike.  It is true that Bessie and I are both pretty grey around the muzzle and we definitely have bad hair days.  We move a little slower, but have outbursts of enthusiasm and ambition now and again.  We like naps and treats and back rubs.  Since Bess was a sleek, short-haired, dark brown chocolate Lab-mix puppy when I picked her out at the animal shelter all those years ago, I guess it's she who did the morphing.

The delta breeze, wind coming in off the ocean that we long for in summer, kicked in yesterday and dropped the temperature to downright chilly.  I'll take it without complaint whenever the deltas blow, but I'll say they don't do much for one's hairdo.

Magic

By mentioning Missy yesterday, it was as if I'd conjured her out of the ether because there she was at the barn.  It was difficult to get a picture with perspective because she was constantly moving, rubbing on my feet, rolling in the dirt, rushing here and there.  This shot doesn't show what a tiny little thing she is, not even as big as skinny Ralph, but it does show her unusual tortoise-shell coloring.  She raced ahead into her room for breakfast, and that was that.  Nice that she dropped in for a visit.

It's not enough that I support turkeys, ground and grey squirrels, goats, multitudinous wild birds, and a stray cat, I glanced out the front door in the morning to see a jackrabbit go fearlessly tootling past in the driveway right in front of the house.  I hesitate to ask what next.

Cats weren't the only magic trick showing up yesterday.  The lilac bushes exploded into bloom almost overnight.  Ohmigosh, the wave of perfume when stepping out the door is heavenly.  It's not just this lilac, either.  I made a quick-as-possible trip to town and the hills are dotted with blue and white wild lilacs.  Scotch broom add punctuation marks with brilliant yellow.  It's such a pretty drive (when I'm forced to go).

With the fluctuating temperatures, Nature reminds my of my parents.  Most of our time was spent in the den.  The thermostat (I dream of thermostats) was in the seldom-used living room.  My dad was always cold and Mother was generally too warm.  One or the other was always sneaking around through the hall and turning the thermostat up or down.  Nature must have been watching.

Drat.  I thought I might have solved Bessie's problem with the deck stairs by putting down a large, flat slab of too-big firewood for her to use as a helper step yesterday.  Either she didn't see it in the dark or it isn't going to work because she came around to the front door again this morning.  Oh well.

A First

Darius Rucker, one of my favorite C/W singers, has a song out "When Was The Last Time (you did something for the first time)" that I really enjoy.  Those occasions get farther and farther apart these days, but the song came to mind last evening when I turned on the living room ceiling fan for the first time since last summer.  Am I crazy (don't answer that!) or was it only a week ago that I had Stove fired up?  When Camille and I were sitting on the porch that lovely afternoon, we both wished out loud that the weather could stay just as it was that day.  Well, it didn't last long.  Of course, this heat spell isn't supposed to last long, either, because a big drop in temperature and possible rain are forecast for this weekend.  It was a portent of what is to come, though, and I'm not happy.  Sigh.

I wish I had a magic wand to wave over the goats to make them get along better.  Sheila and Tessie are so darned mean to Inga, and Inga has the sweetest disposition of the group.  It's happened before to the oldest of the herd; Esther caught the worst of it when she was the deposed queen, and Ruth took her licks, too.  Bedtime is chaotic.  Inga is desperate to get to her room, but unless she has a clear shot, she has to run the gauntlet and the other two give her a good bash as she goes by.  I try to change up the order and get Sheila in first to even the odds for Inga, but it doesn't always work.

I don't see much of Missy these days.  I know she's around because I put down food morning and night for her and all or mostly all is gone.  She shows up now and then to say hi and get a good petting.  I assume (hope) she's out hunting.  She's done a good job of keeping the barn clear of rodents.

Daybreak and sundown are about an hour earlier/later now and, yes, the seasons are changing and we're just along for the ride.  Wahoo.

Catching Up

No matter how young you are in your mind, age has a way of catching up, tapping you on the shoulder and saying, "Unh, unh, unh."  Bessie, in people years, is even older than I, and we've run into a bit of a situation.  Both of us are creatures of habit and we're set in our ways.  The morning routine goes like this:  while the coffee machine does its thing, I put food in the kids' dishes and give Bess her first treat (she gets three).  Coffee in hand, we all four wander back to the bedroom where the computer has been warming up, or whatever it is that computers do.  Bess goes to the outside bedroom door, asking to go out for a potty run.  I turn on the porch light and let her out.  So far, so good.  Normally, when she's done, she yips at the door, I open it, she comes in and I boost her up on the bed.  This last week, however, she yips, but it's not at the door.  There are two steps up to the deck, on probably eight-to-ten-inch risers, and her poor old legs can't make the jump anymore.  I completely understand because I have trouble with stairs, too, and even with the porch light, I'm not going out in the dark to lift her up.  Our compromise is for me to go back through the house to open the front door for my girl.

It's taken a few days for her to get with the program.  The problem is that Bess is almost completely deaf and doesn't hear if I call her.  We communicate mostly by hand signals and those don't work well in the dark.  I finally figured out that if I turn off the deck light and turn on the front porch light, she'll come around to that door, and our day can go on as usual.  Where there's a will, there's a way.

Perfection

I was reminded of a song I first heard in the 1950s by Harry Belafonte, "Great Gettin' Up Morning," yesterday, because it surely was just that.  Even before barn chores, Beau and his nephew brought John Dear home.  Turns out John's problem was a dead battery (whew!); one always anticipates the worst.  Beau had put him on a charger overnight and he was running fine.  I know this because we watched Nephew tootle around in the field "just to make sure."  I'm guessing Nephew is about 11 or so and he was having a grand time until he dropped a wheel in a squirrel hole and got himself stuck.  It's not like it hasn't happened to me.  The guys took off and I went about the business of the day.

After tending to the girls I took a break, but the thought of John sitting out there alone got to me.  It's not like the yards didn't need mowing and it was sunny with a light breeze, perfection, and nothing in the house couldn't wait another day (or two).  John was raring to go, so I gave him a healthy slurp of gas and off we went.  The first mow of the season always takes longer because of the tall grass, and it took two hours just to cut down the west field.  I thought I'd get more done, but after jouncing and bouncing around, bruising my knees on the cowling and toasting in the sun, I called it quits after finishing that section; only four or five more yards to go, but it was a start.  I was pretty proud of myself for remembering what all the buttons, levers and pedals were for and John and I got along fine.

Camille came up in the afternoon with Sammi and Honey.  She hadn't planned to bring Honey, but when she started to leave, Honey said, "You're not gonna leave without me this time!" and snuck in the back of her camper shell.  The dogs played and inspected the yards while Cam and I sat on the porch to enjoy the light filtering through the new oak leaves and a truly gorgeous day.

 It doesn't get much better.

Visiting Day

I didn't see the sign when I got up, but yesterday was Visiting Day.  The phone rang all day long and into the evening (I almost titled this "Can you hear me now?") with most welcome calls from family and friends near and far.  At one point I had three in a holding pattern!  I talked to a niece in New Hampshire and a friend in Sacramento; she and I talk maybe once a year or so, among others.  I enjoy the convenience of wireless phones, but there is one place I will not take the phone and it was hard to squeeze in a potty break.  It was grand to catch up on everyone's news, and I didn't have to dust to enjoy their company.

The only things that got done yesterday, I didn't do.  Cam came up in the afternoon to set rat traps in the feed room.  These are the old-fashioned kind with an enormously strong bar and I don't have the hand strength anymore to set the lever without losing a finger in the process.  Rats have completely destroyed that room and everything in it.  Camille brought, not Honey, but Sammi, a younger German Shepherd.  Sammi is such a happy dog with a constantly grinning face.  She and Bessie played for a bit until Sammi went to work digging for ground squirrels.  She was a dog on a mission.  Bess pooped out after awhile and just watched "the kid."

Not long after Camille left, Beau drove up unexpectedly on his big tractor.  He'd gotten my message asking for help with John Dear and had come riding to the rescue.  It seems the problem was a bit more involved than I'd thought and sundown was coming on, so he decided to take John to his house to take a closer look.  Because, of course, John wouldn't start, Beau left to get his nephew to help haul JD up the road.  I had just enough time to put the girls to bed and get back to the house (where the phone was ringing) before Beau came back.  Since I'd only be in the way, I left him to it and answered the call.  By this time, I felt like Lily Tomlin in Laugh-In as Ernestine, the telephone operator ("One ringy-dingy").

It was a good day.

That Time Of Year

We've once again rolled around to "that time of year" when Nature really busts her buttons, pulling out all the spring stops.  Red-tailed hawks are screeching in the sky and perching on poles as they look for a furry take-out meal.  Mourning doves are crying in the trees now, but will soon be replaced by the larger collared doves who takes off with a loud clatter of wings.  Hummers are back in full force and slurping up juice like there's no tomorrow.  They're drinking nearly two quarts every day

 I saw some of the first wasps (dreadful creatures) floating around looking for nesting spots on the deck yesterday.  It won't be long until I won't go out of the house without a can of spray to try to keep them under control.  They aren't the only spring insects:  clouds of gnats and pesky midges have a person's arms flailing trying to keep them away from their face.

There are big patches of Baby Blue Eyes here and there all over the property.  I'm almost glad John Dear isn't running yet because I hate running them over and swerve around like a drunken sailor (apologies to the navy) trying to avoid those happy little faces.  I saw the first California poppy yesterday.  Long ago I planted so many seeds for the poppies, but they were evidently a favorite of the birds and not too many sprouted.

John Dear really has to come out of winter retirement because weeds are shooting up faster than Kansas corn with these warmer days and sunshine from 7 to 7 now.  The girls are enjoying grazing and snoozing all day.  I've cut way back on their alfalfa because they abandon the flakes in favor of fresh greens.

NASCAR season is in full swing, and it was a good excuse to knock off early yesterday (one of those dadratted Saturday afternoon-evening races).  Bowyer didn't win, but it was one of his better races and he was in the top ten after an exciting finish.

It was a good day.

Affirmation

My mother had a saying for nearly every situation, as did many of her generation.  If asked to repeat something, her response was, "I don't chew my cabbage twice."  On an extremely hot day, she'd say, "Whew!  Think I'll take off my skin and dance around in my bones."  Some of them were nonsensical and others were full of sage advice.  One particular affirmation I remember is, "Every day, in every way, I'm getting better and better."  That worked pretty well on most things except when she tried to teach me mathematics.  I could read before I started kindergarten, but math might still as well be written in Sanskrit.

While not ready for a full-court press yesterday, I was, in fact, getting better and tended to a few piddly chores with a lot of sit-down time between.  I think Arden understood, however, when I excused myself from what would have been a most welcome visit.  I sure didn't want to share this contagious cold, and she didn't want it, either.  (I'm holding the good thought for the young couple who were here earlier in the week.)

Celeste is going to be bereft when I'm done with R&R (military slang for rest and recuperation) and she no longer has a constant lap available.  She's come to think of it as "her" lap and hers alone.  When Ralph needs a bit of a cuddle, he has to squeeze into whatever space is left.

The weather, too, is getting better and better.  It was in the high sixties yesterday.  I left a message for the neighborhood mechanic, Beau, asking if he could get John Dear running again before the yards and fields are totally overrun.  That doesn't take long once the weather warms up.

All's well that ends well.  Mother said.

Drat

Evidently expecting company was a great incentive to ignore having a cold and getting something done.  Lacking that yesterday, all the symptoms returned.  What a shame because it was a gorgeous, sunny day.  The best I could do was take Bess out to sit on the deck and bask like a lizard to get warm, come back in the house for a nap, and repeat.  Certainly nothing I'd consider blog fodder.  Drat.  I'll try to do better today.

Give And Take

The day I wasn't feeling well, my live lap warmers took their places and I was grateful.  I was also happy that I have a camera phone to catch moments like this:  Celeste washing her brother's face.

And then, in the spirit of sibling love, Ralph returned the favor.  I love that he is hugging her.  It's nice when the kids get along.

It's good that the worst effects of my cold abated yesterday.  During Larry's call, he mentioned that a friend in Hawaii was visiting her boyfriend in Somerset and that she was a "goataholic" and really wanted to come visit my girls.  Any friend of Larry's....  He said she would call me.  Okay.  With the possibility of guests and not sure when, I couldn't sit on my duff and so got moving on housework, cold or no cold.  Marty (Martie, Marti, Marte; whatever happened to "common spelling"?) called sometime after twelve and said she and Levi would be over in an hour or so.  "Will you have had lunch?"  "Well, no."  It was a challenge to scramble through the freezer to find something to make a hot meal in an hour.  The rain had held off, but it was a cold, cold day.

Everything was ready to come out of the oven when Marty and Levi arrived so we were able to get acquainted at the table.  They were a very amiable couple and there was no "first meeting" strangeness.

And then we got to the purpose of their visit and went down to the goat pen.  The girls didn't disappoint and came right up to their guests.  As always, Tessie, the unicorn, needed an explanation.  Curious, the girls came to sniff the strangers and get petted.  They were particularly interested in Levi, probably because they don't see many males around here.

I'm happy that Marty got her goat fix and that I met new friends.  Runny nose and all, it was a good day.

More Weather

What with daily changes lately, it's not surprising that Nature finally got around to me and put me under the weather yesterday.  It was probably slogging through shin-high wet grass down to the barn and back and staying damp that gave me a doozy of a cold.  I so rarely get sick that at first I didn't recognize the feeling.  I gave myself the day off and spent most of it napping.

There were two very bright spots:  I got a lovely long chat with Larry, my Kid in Hawaii, and a photo text from Dave showing a truckload of oak rounds he'd been given from his job site.  They'll need to age a year, but it's a good start for next winter.

The old girl isn't done with us yet.  She's giving us a break today, but another storm is predicted for tomorrow.  Phooey.

Minute To Minute

Maybe Nature was having a tantrum yesterday, I don't know, but she pulled out darned near everything from her bag of tricks.  The rain had stopped by the time I went down to the barn, that was a good thing.  The NASCAR race in Tennessee had been stopped on Sunday because of rain and started again on Monday (that always messes me up), so whatever I'd planned went up in smoke.  Bess asked to go out about the time I'd decided it was cold enough to light a fire, so I opened the door for her and gasped.  There were six deer grazing in the front pasture!  It's been a long time since I've seen so many at once.

I had no more fed Stove than it started hailing, a lot of hail, and the nuggets were as large as big peas.  When that stopped, it started snowing.  Big puffy flakes drifted down for more than an hour, covering the deck and the yards on top of the hail.  Shortly after that stopped, she washed it all away with another outburst of rain.  By the girls' bedtime, all that had stopped and the sun came out just in time to sink behind the horizon.  It was a cold, soggy walk down to the barn.

The sun is out this morning, but it's way down to freezing.  Nature changes her mind minute by minute.  Oh well.

Kerthunk

Ralph is one of those cats about whom it has been said that if the world was flat, he'd knock everything on it over the edge.  Celeste is not so inclined, but Ralph can't help himself.  I hear plops and kerthunks daily, and even if I don't hear them, I find the results in nearly every room.  Pencils, pieces of paper, lids I forgot to put back on, you name it.  If it's not nailed down, over it goes.  Anything that rolls is best, but he doesn't discriminate.  There is a small ceramic swan in the guest room that used to be filled with potpourri, "used to" being the definitive term here.  Luckily, the swan, now empty, didn't break when it hit the floor.  It's very much like living with a three-year-old child, a redheaded one, at that (no offense to the gingers of the world).

Cam doesn't have a TV and now her computer has gone wonky.  She's been calling in the morning to get a weather report so she could plan her workday.  She won't need to call today because it started raining after dark last night and it's still raining.  Oh goody.

Temptation

I had a heart-stopping experience yesterday.  While having a sit down after barn chores, I glanced over to see a cat walking along the deck.  "My goodness, that looks just like Celeste."  I quickly got up and went outside to check.  Since I rarely do anything quickly, that set Bess off and shutting her inside made her anxiety level even higher.  So the dog is barking and I'm going back and forth on the deck, out to the front yard, around the house, calling Celeste's name just in case.  The cat had vanished, no sign anywhere.  I absolutely knew I had seen a grey cat heading toward the hummingbird feeders and that it hadn't passed me when I went outside.  If it had been Celeste, where did she go and how did she get out and did she go alone? 

Evidently when I'd gone out to fill the hummers' feeders before going to the barn, the kitchen door hadn't latched completely when I came back in and the wind had blown it slightly open.  After having written just a couple of days ago that the cats were strictly house cats and why, I was truly heartsick.  The temptation of the open door was just too great.  I went to the bedroom to look, afraid I'd find nothing, and there was Ralph, looking guilty, wide-eyed and hiding under one of the bedside tables.  "Oh, Ralph, I'm so happy to see you!  Where is your sister?"  I can't describe my relief when Celeste came out from under the bed.  Both cats were safe, having come in the way they'd gone out.

Like little kids who knew they'd been naughty, they stayed in the bedroom all day in self-imposed exile.  No running up and down the hall, no crooning to the piglets, no coming to sit on my lap.  I think they'd been scared silly after their outing.  I know I was.

My little runaways stuck as tight as limpets in bed last night.

Busted

When the cats are away, the squirrels will play.  That doesn't mean the cats don't keep a close eye on their activities.  Ralph's and Celeste's heads were on swivels yesterday.    I had my own laugh, too.  After a quite chilly morning, the day warmed up nicely and, for a change, I took Bessie and a book out to sit on the deck.  Reading doesn't take much physical activity and Bess was napping in the sunshine when I caught motion out of the corner of my eye.  A squirrel was sneaking up on the deck on the ledge just outside the railing.  When I moved, the squirrel froze.  Busted!  It stayed still for the longest time before deciding to make a fast retreat.  It doesn't take much to amuse me.

Dress Code

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there were strict dress codes for girls in school, especially in high school; dresses and skirts only, definitely no trousers, jeans, or shorts.  In my last two years in boarding school, we all wore uniforms, the great equalizer.  One of my first roommates, Manena, thought I was bonkers because I'd go into the big walk-in closet we shared and say,  "Hmmm, I wonder what I shall wear today."

These days, I say the same thing.  Bibbies are de rigueur, my uniform, as it were, but what to wear with them is the question.  Weather is the dictator.  In the past week alone, I've gone from a long-sleeved cotton shirt to a turtleneck sweater, then adding a fleece vest, and yesterday it was sweater, quilted jacket, and gloves.  It didn't reach into the 50s all day.  I think Nature spins some giant wheel and we get what we get when the wheel stops.  She must get bored in summer when the wheel gets stuck on seemingly endless days of heat.

Given that it is just above freezing this morning, today will be another full-gear day.  Oh well, I won't have to ask what I'll wear.

Rowdy Kids

For their own safety, Ralph and Celeste are strictly indoor cats.  For instance, right now a great horned owl is hooting and working the neighborhood.  Frank went out one night and never came back and I don't want to go through that again.  That being said, if these cats were kids I would have sent them outside to play yesterday.  It was as if they both had a bad case of cabin fever.  It's usually Ralph who is the nutter, but Celeste was also infected.  They raced through the house, roughhoused and wrestled, and hid in ambush.  One couldn't walk past the other without giving a slap.  Celeste came crooning up the hall with a piglet in her mouth.  When she put it down, Ralph snatched it up and wouldn't give it back.  They've rarely been so boisterous at the same time or for so long.  This went on all day.

They slept well last night.

Ralph In Charge

Why Celeste left one of the piglets in Ralph's care, I don't know.  He's a rather irresponsible babysitter, it seems.  Talk about falling asleep on the job.

The "Do Not Call" list does not appear to be in effect anymore.  Those dang robocalls are so annoying and are becoming more frequent.  I so appreciate caller ID on my phones; if I don't recognize the number, I don't answer.  Sometimes they leave a message, sometimes not.  I've received two disturbing messages in the last week, each slightly different but from the same man.  It's obviously a recording, but the caller refers to my stepson by name (I haven't seen him in 25 years), saying there are papers that, by law, he must sign and that he (the caller) is on his way.  The last I knew, Steve's son was living in Oregon.  He has never even been to Farview, so I can't imagine how his name became connected to my phone number.  Because of the vaguely threatening nature of these calls, I contacted the Sheriff's office simply to make them aware.  They actually sent a deputy out to listen to the message.  There is really nothing that can be done to stop these calls.  I would put Ralph on guard duty, but....

Other than that one burst of excitement, it was an uneventful day.  The rain that had been predicted was nothing more than a smattering on the windshield when Bess and I took the trash down to the big road.  Nothing left but clouds by the time the girls went to bed.

Nice to see you back, Kit.

Keep On Truckin'

Good old Truck.  It was time for his smog check so I called the place where he'd undergone his "physical" after he'd been hit.  "Come in at four today."  Oh crum.  I hadn't planned on going to town so soon, but it wasn't raining and I'm not one to miss an opportunity for something I'd already put off too long.

It seemed incongruous to me that the heavy-duty, waterproof cover Craig had purchased to protect my cellphone had started to crumble.  I hadn't dropped the phone, nor left it go through the washing machine (okay, I did that twice with Phone's predecessor, but I learned).  As long as I was leaving home anyhow, I decided to get a new cover and run a couple of other errands so as not to waste the trip and not have to go into town again soon.  Phone's first cover was an easy-to-see aqua blue, but all the store could offer was black, so black it was to be.  It will just be a little harder to find on those occasions when it is not in my pocket.

Truck passed his smog check with flying colors, bless his oily heart.  He might be banged up and bruised, but he and I will keep on truckin'.  Good old Truck.

Getting Squirrely

The grey squirrel is back at the bird feeder again.  It must be the same one because he has the breakfast routine down pat and needs no coaxing to come.  He's already waiting when I put down the seed.  I got a kick out of him when it was raining.  He wasn't going to miss a meal and cleverly put his tail over his head like an umbrella.  The turkeys must have wished they could do the same.

Ground squirrels are out in full force and there are lots of youngsters.  Missy is doing her best and caught and ate another one.  Yesterday was warm and sunny all day, and all day young squirrels ran back and forth on the deck.  Ralph and Celeste are getting a lot of exercise going from the windows in the bedroom to the front room, trying to keep an eye on the pesky teenagers.  With ten acres to romp and play, I'll never understand why they need to come up to the house.  If it is just to irritate me, they're doing a good job.

Hopeful

Seemingly overnight, the kitchen lilacs and all the oaks have new leaves.  Anemones are bright bursts of color in a few pots on the deck.  Plum trees in the front orchard are covered in frothy white blossoms.  The grey sky that poured rain most of yesterday is clear this morning.  It makes one hopeful.

Rain, Rain...

This touch of spring was a welcome sight on another dreary rainy day yesterday.  It never really rained hard, but it was constant and more than enough to wash Truck.  The girls immediately fell into rainy day routine; however, I think Tessie is pulling rank and keeps the big room all to herself (she is the one with the weapon and it is "her" room at night, after all).  That leaves just the play yard and Louie's shed for the other two, but at least they don't have to stand out in the yard getting wet when Tess pulls her Greta Garbo "I vant to be alone" act.

That big meaty ham bone from Easter has been calling me and yesterday was a perfect day for dried lima beans and ham, true comfort food in my book.  Buttery cornbread fresh from the oven finished the menu.


Ralph has taken to slipping into the cat cave under the blanket again the last few nights.  That soft, warm body cuddled up next to me is so reminiscent of long ago when one of the Kids would climb into bed with me.

It began to rain in earnest during the night and it's pounding on the roof and windows this morning.  It's a tossup whether to sing, "It's raining, it's pouring.  The old man is snoring," or "Rain, rain, go away."  As much as we need them, wet days also dampen the spirits.  Guess I'll go sniff the hyacinths.

Over The Fence

Walking down to the barn yesterday, I noticed a lone man working in the vineyard next door.  Usually there is a big crew pruning, tying, or whatever else grape vines need, so just one guy was out of the norm.  When he looked up, I said hi and kept going, so it surprised me when he stopped what he was doing and came to the fence, obviously wanting to talk.  Okay, I veered off the path to meet him.  We made some small talk and I mentioned I had met the owners, the young family with the big dogs.  "No, I.  I am the owner!  The family is renting the log house."  Introductions followed and he had a lot of questions, including why was there a gate in the fence between our properties.  I explained that the prior owner of the vineyard used to come over with his brush hog (a huge piece of equipment) to cut down weeds in my south pasture.  It turns out that Sasi is one of five friends in the Bay Area who purchased the vineyard together and that one or the other tries to come on the weekends.  No wonder I've not seen him before and had never seen the family tending the grapes.  It was a nice happenstance meeting.

As the rain held off, I decided to make a run up to Holiday to stock up on some incidentals.  It was to be a quick, in-and-out trip so I didn't bother with makeup, but the thought occurred that, of course, this would almost guarantee that I'd run into someone I knew.  Nah, that wouldn't happen.  I was walking across the parking lot when Arden and another friend I knew pulled in.  Busted!

On the way back to Four Corners (the local term for the only four-way stop on Mt. Aukum Road), a truck was following fairly close.  This is never a good idea up here (or ever, really).  The point was made when a pedestrian turkey broke out of the brush to run across in front of me and I had to either hit the brakes or hit the bird.  Fortunately, Truck Guy had his eyes on the road and didn't hit me, and the turkey lived to be stupid again another day.

The predicted rain began during the night.  There will be no meeting neighbors across the fence today.

Missed

Sometimes I miss simple, uncomplicated, gut-busting Fu Manchu.  I missed an opportunity to mow yesterday because John Dear would not cooperate.  Either I need a remedial course in how to get the yard tractor going or he needs a spring overhaul after a winter of disuse.  John has any number of buttons and levers that need to be pushed, pulled, raised or lowered to get him started.  I thought I had the sequence right, particularly remembering to push the brake pedal farther down than I'd previously thought necessary, but John didn't even cough.  There also wasn't a hopeful click, so it could be something as simple as a dead battery.  Sigh.  I trudged back to the house to consider options.  I'd waited until late afternoon to let the grasses (i.e., weeds) dry after a heavy morning dew, so it was a bit late to call Beau, the neighborhood single woman's savior.  Heavy rain is predicted for a couple of days beginning this afternoon, up to 2-1/2 inches in this area, so I think I'll just let John sit there and sulk, or gloat, as the case may be, and I'll have another go at him once we dry out again.

I'm used to seeing Missy morning and night now and I miss her on those occasions when she's out doing whatever it is she does during the day.  She seems happy to see me, too, purring loudly and twisting this way and that to get petted while I put down her food.  While she certainly has a good appetite, Missy remains petite.

Celeste is off her game lately.  I'm finding piglets all over the bathroom so I know she's been working on her slam-dunk and hook shots.  I do not, however, miss finding floaters.

Win some, lose some.  It was that kind of day.

Compulsion

Yesterday was what would have been my mother's 114th birthday.  She was on my mind, more so because I watched a documentary on the Richard Loeb-Nathan Leopold crime and trial.  That might seem incongruous, but you'd have to know Mother's history and habits.  She was raised in Chicago and, in 1920, was sixteen years old.  Even in what was then called The Crime Capitol of America with mobsters, bootleggers, and the Roaring 20s just hitting its stride, the senseless thrill killing of a young boy by two wealthy nineteen-year-olds made the nation gasp.  That, and the trial five years later, made a big impression on Mother.

Fast forward to 1956.  Meyer Levin wrote a book, "Compulsion," a fictionalized account of the grisly murder and, of course, Mother was anxious to read it.  When she brought the book home from the library, she told me what she remembered of the time, and I wanted to read it, too.  It got to the point where we hung about like vultures, waiting for the reader to put the book down so we could pounce and grab it up.  I remember that as much as the book itself.  That's probably when I learned to read quickly so I could cram as many pages into my turn before Mother would claim seniority and take the book back.

Happy birthday, Mother.

Waldo II

It tickles me to think of my big biker boy, Dave, shopping for tiny little piglets for his mama.  He has given me many, many pigs over the years, in every conceivable medium and ranging from beautiful to bizarre.  On Sunday, he presented me with another pink piglet and I explained it was really a gift to Celeste.  Dave already knew the story of Waldo, so he was okay with that.

Waldo, at the top, once was as pristine as Waldo II, but, like "The Velveteen Rabbit," has obviously been much loved.  He looks like he's been through the wringer.  A few of the black-and-white piglets are missing some of their detail stitching, but none have been mauled like Waldo.  Knowing I wanted a comparison photo, I was fortunate to find him in the hallway and didn't have to launch a full-scale search party.

Dogie, Bessie Anne's predecessor, had a pet (stuffed) hedgehog.  It was her main plaything, and I would sew up rips and put back stuffing, but I also bought her a replacement for the day when Hedgehog was no longer repairable.  I am going to put Waldo II away for safekeeping for the time being for just the same reason.  Celeste would be bereft without a Waldo in her life.  They talk about "a boy and his dog."  I have a cat and her pig.

Easter Parade

Prep work for the day didn't go quite as planned.  Vacuuming is always the last thing before company arrives and I was halfway through the living room when the fershluggen machine quit (again).  I was cutting it close to the wire and was still cussing when Mary, a longtime friend and coworker from years past, drove up.  Oh well, nothing for it but to put on a brave face and fake it.

Deb and Craig arrived next, bearing a just-ready-to-bloom hyacinth plant and this "box" of goodies Craig had created.  It's no secret that licorice is my favorite, and he glued boxes of the good stuff together and filled it with hollow eggs full of licorice jelly beans.  Seventh heaven!  I graciously did not hide it in a cupboard, but silently begrudged every patty-paw that tried to save me from myself.  Mary had brought a cute ceramic bunny that became the table centerpiece.

Dave rode up on his "new" Harley.  He's had it for a year, but this was the first time I'd seen it.  This big road cruiser has all the bells and whistles a guy could wish for and it's a beauty.  The weather was perfect for a ride in the hills.

It wasn't long before Pete and Cam arrived and the party was complete.  The guys went out to the deck to talk guy stuff while Deb painstakingly gilded each of the eggs with a tiny brush and the ladies chatted.  What a shame that I'd screwed up and the Easter eggs weren't quite hard boiled (there's a first time for everything).  All that work for naught, but they sure were pretty.  Camille brought a basket of fresh eggs to share, but there was no time to start over.

For me, the day went by way too fast, but I'd emphasized to everyone that they needed to get out of the hills before the deer became active at dusk.  Fawns are starting to arrive and they have no street smarts.  Too soon, "Love you's," were called out as my family drove off.

Not one person went into the living room all day so I was spared embarrassment.  Larry and Clay had sent Happy Easter texts to the gathering of family and friends.  All in all, I'd call it it a good day.

Big Day

I get a kick out of animal idiosyncrasies.  I've said that each of the goats has a different style.  Sheila is a head rubber, Inga likes a butt scratch, and Tessie...well, Tessie remains aloof.   Likewise, the cats have a preferred method of being petted.  Rambunctious Ralph surprisingly likes a soft, long stroke while Couch Potato Celeste wants to be "scrubbed."  Missy just wants to be touched, period.  I'm careful to use a light touch and a gentle hand with her because if she gets excited, she turns to nip.

Li'l Miss has claimed the barn as her own, and the girls will just have to deal with it.  Yesterday I was finishing chores in the back stalls and heard loud purring.  Everyone had finished breakfast.  I looked around for the cat but couldn't see her.  Missy was high up on a girder supervising and evidently pleased with my work.  (We all need approval.)

Good weather is holding on and I'm so glad.  The Kids won't have bad roads for their travels and I'll be able to leave the doors open.  Stove tells me he is starving, but he needs this temporary diet.  More rain is predicted for the end of the week so he won't go without for long.

There are always last minute tasks when company is coming, and I've got to get hopping (pardon the bunny reference).

Happy Easter!