Deep Doodah

Oh good grief.  I was in it up to my knees yesterday when I needed to use the computer and found that I'd been invaded by PUPs (whatever they are).  These evil PUPs had destroyed my connection to Mozilla Firefox, the browser I've used for years.  Aaarrgh!  Mozilla "support" is virtually nonexistent.  What to do?  I contacted a nice young man at HughesNet, who hooked me up with Chrome, another browser, but a bunch of my stuff has been lost.  It was an adventure this morning to try to find my way around Chrome just so I could write today's entry.  Any typist will tell you that using the keyboard is as much memory motion as thought, and now I've got to really concentrate on where I'm going and what I'm doing.  Ratchafratch.

Before the PUPs appeared, I'd spent several hours on the DMV website, taking all 17 of their sample tests in preparation for the biggie, the real test to renew my license (having gotten clearance from the eye doc).  You know what threw me for a loop?  The blasted road signs.  I've been driving for 64 years.  I see a road sign and obey whatever it says.  "What signs are blue with white letters?  What shape is a stop sign?  Is a Yield sign an upside down triangle or right side up?"  Heck, I don't know.  If it says yield, I give oncoming traffic the right of way.  In all those 64 years, I've never received even a parking ticket (knocking on wood here) and I've logged a bajillion miles over time. 

Okay, enough of the ranting.  Nature, quick-change artist that she is, brought the temperature up to nearly 80 yesterday.  I can't remember the last time I opened the door to go out for barn chores and left it open all day, or the last time I popped a sweat while weeding.  After Beau's work with the mower, I was feeling pretty guilty about the raggedy herb garden, so stop to pull a patch every time I walk by.  No sense overdoing it.  The chickens are reaping the benefits because I toss them a handful of fresh greens every day now, just opening the gate and throwing it in because of Stanley and his rotten attitude.  How I miss Pick Me Up Peggy, Tattletale Tessie, and gentle Leonard, those long-gone affectionate chickens from the past.

My friend Arden is coming by today and, joy!, Deb texted that she, Craig, and Craig's brother Randy are coming up on Saturday to do some yard work.  Am I blessed or what?!  The preeminent job at hand is propping up the board fence along the driveway.  The posts have rotted out at the base and the darned thing is threatening to fall over and block the drive, and wouldn't that be a mess.  What would I do without my worker bees?

It's light enough now to see it's going to be another good day, unless Nature changes her mind later.  With company coming, I'd better dust.

That Was Then

It wasn't just me inspecting the mown yards yesterday.  I think the vulture and I were both surprised that there is so little green left in the front yard.

(Umm, Beau, ya missed a spot in the west field.)  I am just so thankful that I can walk down to the goat pen now without getting paranoid about rattlers hiding in the weeds.  The timing was great because the whirly-gigs were just starting to bloom.  Maybe there will be fewer of those dreadful seeds that bore into everything with the flowers gone.

I was watching an episode of MasterChef and Gordon Ramsey was laughingly showing an old-time rotary beater.  That's what I grew up with.  I remember cranking away, taking turns with my mother when she'd make Divinity candy at Christmas time, and it took for-ev-er.  It wasn't until I was married that I got an electric hand mixer and thought that was big time.  Much later there was a stand mixer, and now I've got the star of the show, a KitchenAid!  I was fourteen when my mother got an automatic washer and dryer.  Before that, she and I used a tub washer with a wringer and a clothesline.  It was good training, because when I got married I was right back to the tub and wringer, doing daily loads of handmade flannel diapers.

I was slow moving into the 20th century.  I had all four Kids before I got an automatic coffee maker, having gotten used to perking the coffeepot on the stove.  It wasn't until we'd moved to Sacramento that I got a microwave, even then not sure why I needed one, and didn't get a food processor until I was up here.  A good knife was all I'd ever needed to slice and dice.  Computers, cellphones, wireless phones...wow.

That was then, this is now.  All the marvelous modern conveniences that I can't imagine being without.  Most of the millennials would think I came out of the Dark Ages.  They might be right.

Could It Be?

Regardless of this green view, it could be that we're out of the woods as far as the seemingly endless days of rain are concerned.  Oh sure, there are still some wet days in the forecast, but sporadic and not constant.  That's okay, it'll save me watering.

Obviously I was not the only one happy to see sunshine yesterday.  Ralph and Celeste soaked it up like furry sponges in the morning.  A cloud cover came and went, but it never got cold enough to call on Stove.

I had just finished paying bills (aarrgh!) in the afternoon when I heard and then saw a small tractor coming up the driveway.  ???  It was Beau, who had just finished working on the machine and wanted to see if it would run well.  Hey, I was happy to provide a testing ground.  He tootled around the west field, but then got serious and mowed down the front yard, the side yard where the clothesline is, and the slope down to the backyard.  Coming up and going back later, he cut the median strip on the driveway and whacked down the weeds by the fence line in front of the east meadow.  I had a cold beer and a couple of bucks waiting for him when he was done, in addition to my profuse gratitude.

You know you're not in the city anymore when you make a quick trip to the convenience store and you find yourself slowing to about five mph behind a tractor going down the road (he pulled off to let me pass).  I'd been laughing to myself when Beau and his tractor came up my drive, because it's not the "normal" mode of transportation, but then when I was up at Gray's Corner, another tractor pulled in to fill up with gas.  Up here, it is the norm.

Sunshine, the perfume of newly mown grass, yards I could actually walk through...hey, it was a good day!

The Lion's Den

Stanley's name really should be Leo and mine should be Clyde Beatty (lion tamer in the 1930s-'40s).  My heart starts racing before I open the gate.  Where is he?  Most of the time he and his ladies are waiting just inside, but sometimes he hides behind the coop.  I use a fairly large, shallow plastic flowerpot to carry the two kinds of feed for the chickens and I use it as a shield, carrying it low in front of me until I can toss out the scratch and pellets, watching Stanley all the while.  I've learned the hard way never to turn my back on him.  He's sneaky.  He'll pretend like all he's interested in is breakfast, and then he'll make a run at me as I'm backing away, and he is fast!  I take a swing at him with the flowerpot and he'll back off and I back out.  My most perilous moments are when I'm replacing the filled waterer.  It's large and heavy and takes two hands and I can't defend myself while setting it on the ground, and believe me, Stanley is watching for an opportunity to strike.  I could try out for a soccer team, I'm getting so good at kicking.  Every morning, it's like going into the lion's den.  He has me thinking potpie.

Sheila is now the self-proclaimed queen of the herd, if you can call two goats a herd.  I'd thrown down the alfalfa for the girls, who immediately started munching, and headed down to the barn.  Missy came out to meet me and I was bending down to pet her when she suddenly dashed away and I heard running hooves behind me.  Sheila evidently decided that the cat was a threat to her mom, and she would have none of that.  She stood between us, nostrils flared, until Missy was out of sight in the barn before she'd let me past.  Then she turned and ran up to get her share before Tessie ate it all.  Missy got her breakfast and a good petting, so all's well that ended well.

Sadly, I did not fly the flag yesterday.  It never rained, but the skies were threatening all day and I didn't want to chance it.  Joe and his daughter Alex picked another good day to work on the fallen oak as it was cool while they were sweating, I'm sure.  As before, they worked a good, solid six hours.  It was a big tree.  Even sharing the firewood three ways (Alex is getting a third), we should all be set for awhile.

Having been brought to tears by Memorial tributes and movies, I switched and watched back-to-back reruns of Blue Bloods.

Oh, I should mention that Kathryn (Kit, to me), who frequently posts a comment here, was interviewed for TV while at a Memorial Park in Idaho and gave a most fitting tribute to our fallen heroes.

Stove Back At Work

("I Surrender, Dear," Bing Crosby's first solo hit, 1931)

Stove had been enjoying a short vacation when the days were sunny, but giving only the illusion of warmth.  What with the return of rain yesterday and getting drenched going down to the barn, I gave up and put him back on duty after feeding him well.  Stove seemed happy to be called upon and fired right up.  Better still, he didn't gobble his log lunch, but savored it slowly.  Just as well because the porch rack has been depleted by the many damp days.  The cats abandoned my lap in favor of Stove's luxurious warmth, stretching out by the hearth, turning over once in awhile to toast the other side.

NASCAR has always had an affinity for the military, and all stops were pulled out yesterday at the 600-mile race at Charlotte.  Each of the 40 cars carried the name of a warrior who did not come home, and during the race a brief history of each was presented.  I was reminded of FDR's quote, "War is young men dying and old men talking."  Members of the present military were well represented in numbers.

Memorial Day is always a sad day.  I hope the sun comes out so I can fly the flag.  Thinking about it yesterday, I realized that many of my relatives, by blood or marriage, had served our country in branches of the military and that all...all...had come safely home.  It wasn't just Stove that warmed me yesterday.

Light And Dark

A lot of game playing was going on yesterday.  Big, fluffy white clouds played tag while the sun played peekaboo as the clouds passed by.  Outside the living room window, it was as if someone was sending Morse code with a spotlight...dit dah dit (SOS), constantly changing from light to dark, and it went on all day.

Joe and his daughter Alex certainly picked the right day to start chainsawing on the fallen oak down by the road.  That tree fell more than a year ago and some time back Joe had asked about the possibility of sharing the firewood if he did the cutting and splitting (using my splitter).  Oh heck yeah!  It would save Joe a trip up into the National Forest where it is permissible to cut wood from slash piles left by the foresters for a nominal fee (firewood is expensive), and it would clear up some fire danger here on my property.  I could hear the saws going nearly all day long.  Joe and Alex slept well last night, I'm sure, worn down to the nub.

She with the log splitter is queen in this country.  In the afternoon, Beau called asking if he could borrow mine.  I told him he'd have to ask Joe because Joe had priority.  Evidently they both decided to put that chore off for awhile, as neither came to take the splitter out.

Just as well, because we're back in the rain again this morning, with no sign of let up.

Start To Finish

"I love coffee, I love tea.  I love the java jive and it loves me." (Ink Spots, 1940)

My parents were big fans of the Ink Spots and I grew up listening to their music.  Since there was no television and no photos, there were discussions on whether the lead singer was male or female.  (Bill Kenny was a male with a sweet tenor-soprano.)  I laugh at myself every morning.  I know darned well I drank the last slurp of coffee in my mug, but inevitably I pick up the cup to check if there might not be just one last sip.  Sigh.

It was sunny (yay!) and I took advantage to get a photo of the single peony in bloom before heading to the barn.  Poor thing was hanging head down after being drenched for days.  The delicate singles are so much different from the showy doubles.

Missy was waiting for her breakfast.  Whether I see her or not, I know she eats well as her bowl is empty every morning, but it's such a treat for me when she does appear.  She's a cheery little girl.

Feeling very much like The Shaggy Dog (1959 movie, Fred MacMurray, Tommy Kirk), I was so glad to see my personal groomer, Candy, in early afternoon when she came to clip my overgrown locks.  (Why didn't I wait to get my picture taken for my driver's license!)  Candy is my friend as well as my hairdresser, and we had a nice visit.  It being Friday, there was a brief cross-over when Arden arrived.  Candy left and Arden and I settled in to watch our TV shows.  It's become a weekly ritual.

While it wasn't raining here in the evening, it was a bit alarming to see the warning banners on TV telling of possible large hail storms and flooding over in Plumas and Yolo counties, and I could see near-constant flashes of lightning over the hills toward Yosemite.  Nature is on a rampage.

Give me a lapful of cats any time and I'm happy.

It was a good day, start to finish.

Yup, my mug is empty.  I just checked.

I Can See Clearly Now

"I Can See Clearly Now" (song by Johnny Nash, 1970)

The rain didn't start yesterday until I was on my way to P'ville to see the eye doc.  I knew it had been a while since I'd been to his office, thinking it could have been three or four years.  Turns out it was seven.  How time flies.  Since I'd only been to his new (guess it's not so new anymore) office only once, I gave myself plenty of time to get lost, but found my way like a homing pigeon so I had time to sit and read for a bit before my appointment.  Silly DMV; I had the exam with Dr.'s fancy-dancey machines, including the one that puffs air at your eye, and it turns out I can see fine for DMV and general purposes.  I wasn't even prescribed glasses, and can make do with the Dollar Store cheaters for reading.  There is a cataract forming on (in?) one eye, but it isn't "ripe" enough for surgery yet.  Dr. filled out the necessary form and I was out of there, ta da!

The office was just around the corner from the Hong Kong Inn, my favorite Chinese restaurant, and I weakened.  I didn't even look at the menu.  "I just want something with a lot of vegetables and maybe some beef, please."  I took it "to go," and the aroma from the mystery meal made me salivate on the way home.  It was exactly what I'd asked for and it was a grand reward for having made the unwanted trip to town.

Now I just have to gear up to go back to DMV with proof positive I can see clearly now.

Comfort Cat

Celeste seems to realize how much I miss Bessie Anne and has taken it upon herself to become my support cat.  Just as Bess followed me from room to room, now I am accompanied by Celeste...everywhere.  She talks a lot more now, and I get frequent headbutts.  Seldom do I sit down that my lap is not filled with a grey lump of cat.  Sometimes I'll tell her that I'm going to get up again in just a minute, but she says she doesn't care and jumps up anyway.  The litter box is in the bathroom and we use our facilities together (oh joy).  When I came home from the grocery store yesterday, I found one of her piglets in my chair.  Maybe she thought I needed it there for company.  Celeste has always shown affection and attention, but she's ramped up her game.  She's my comfort cat.

We did get a welcome break from the rain yesterday.  Food supplies for all the outside animals were getting pretty low so I called Mt. Aukum to ask about a delivery on the next dry day.  I've known Chris for many years.  He's a good guy with a great sense of humor.  I was afraid he might leave when the new owners took over and was relieved when he stayed on.  He took my order and said the supplies might even be delivered the same day.  Really?!!  He said he tried to take care of his VIPs first.  Imagine that, I'm a VIP!  Sure enough, it wasn't even two hours before Patrick drove up, loaded with alfalfa, scratch and pellets for the chickens, 40 pounds of seed for the wild birds, and a block of trace mineral salt for the goats.  That ought to keep the critters happy and well fed for awhile.

I've an appointment with the optometrist today.  I'm not ready for a white cane yet, but I did flunk the eye test at DMV and it's imperative that I get the problem fixed.  It's been years since I've needed full-time glasses, making do with "cheaters" for reading, but it appears that time has taken its toll.  Ah well.  There are some things Celeste can't fix.

A Doozy

We were back to the same-old, same-old yesterday.  After the oh-so-welcome break of the day before, it rained all day.  I'm back to humming that children's ditty, "Rain, rain.  Go away!"  (The exclamation point is mine.)  Watching the news as I do, I've seen the flooding and devastation elsewhere and realize how really lucky we are here, but it doesn't stop me from complaining.  It's my second hobby.  Coming back from the barn, I heard water dripping where there should be no water dripping.  Seems one or perhaps cumulative downpours had been too much and pulled a downspout away from the gutter.  Since climbing ladders is verboten to me, it's going to stay that way until one of the Kids comes up.  Oh well.

Mid morning, I had some unexpected work on the computer involving a process I've done before, but maybe only once a year.  It took me a while to remember and execute the steps.  I was just finishing up when the first rumble of thunder came, perfect timing.  I unplugged the computer and put the cellphone on the charger (not my first rodeo).  I didn't keep track of the time, but the thunder came closer and closer and went on and on and on.  It was take-the-trash-down day, and I kept putting it off, thinking it would surely stop, but close to dark I had no choice.  It was still rumbling when I hauled my contribution cross the road.  As storms go, it was a doozy.

I only pick up my mail when there's a reason to leave the house, so there was a stack of stuff in the mailbox.  To my delight and surprise, there were a number of birthday and Mother's Day cards from family and dear friends.  There was even a gift card for KFC.  Talk about extending a holiday!

It's still raining this morning.  Aarrgh.

For A Change

How different it was doing barn chores yesterday.  Clouds, yes, but the white fluffy kind instead of the gloomy grey that have become the norm.  The girls were feeling frisky and ran and bucked ahead of me on the path.  Sheila enjoyed her alfalfa, while Tessie evidently goes by "the grass is greener on the other side" theory.

I can't remember the last time I sat out on the deck to soak up some sunshine.  Yes, I can.  It was while Bessie Anne was in her declining days; not going to dwell on that.  The front pasture and the slope down to the woods are blanketed with bright yellow patches of wild mustard, as if they'd been splashed with sunshine.

Some of the damage done by the winds.  The pine just off the deck took the brunt of it this time.  This is only one of the branches torn off.  Honestly, since this is all, I consider myself lucky.

There is a small garden patch in the back yard (front, actually, because the house faces away from the road) where I planted herbs, etc., years ago.  The sage is in bloom now.  That's green santolina next to it.  There is also a grey santolina down there.  In time they will be filled with yellow flowers.  Purely by chance, I chose plants the deer do not eat.  I certainly wasn't so lucky with the multitudinous flowers and bulbs I've planted over the years with nary a one to show for my efforts.  I can't see wasting money buying plants for the pots on the deck because Robert the Raider comes hunting every day, accompanied by a gang of youngsters,  all Bobbys, I guess.

I'm glad I took pictures of a sunny day because we're back to rain today, with more snow predicted in the mountains.  You'd sure never know we're so close to summer 'cause it sure feels like winter.

Start 'Em Laughing

I know the saying is "Always leave 'em laughing," but it's good to start your day with a giggle.  I got mine yesterday.  There is a drawback to buying the same style of shoe in different colors.  I prefer black, but all that was offered last time was brown...barn shoes brown, go-to-town shoes black, same shoe.  It wasn't until I got out to the living room that I saw I was wearing one of each.  This isn't the first time this has happened to me.  I was working in an office, wearing suits and high heels.  It had seemed to me one day that I was walking a little off-kilter, but didn't think too much of it, not until I was alone in the elevator and realized I had two slightly different shoes on.  When the doors opened, the man waiting to get on was a little startled to find this woman (me) laughing like a loon all by herself.  I've also found myself wearing one red and one black.  I could start a new fashion trend.

Did I mention that Nature is a litterbug?  I got a good soaking doing barn chores yesterday.  Coming back up, the driveway and yards were covered in those tender branches blown off by fierce winds.  I can hear flatlanders saying, "That's a driveway?"  Yes, my dears, it is.

The old girl pulled out all the stops yesterday.  Rain, wind, sun, and at one time, snow!  Stove was crabby and it took hours to get the house even halfway warm.  It had calmed down somewhat in the afternoon when I got a text from my daughter, warning that a terrific thunderstorm was heading my way and suggesting I put my phone and that super-duper lantern on the charger in case of a power outage, which I did.  We got another bout of rain, but were spared the light show.

Feeling the need of some comfort food, I made potato pancakes for dinner.  Call them what you will:  latkes, draniki, raggmunk, they are down-home cooking.  These days I use the food processor to grate the potatoes and only needed two spuds.  When the Kids were growing up, I'd need five pounds of potatoes and had to grate them by hand.  Regardless, the taste was just as comforting.

By the way, I changed my shoes.

Bloop!

Nature was a little irritating yesterday.  When the oaks are putting out new growth on their branches, the tips are very tender.  When the old girl throws a tizzy and sends big wind, those tips break off and literally litter my yard.  If she ever stops with the dadratted rain, I'll have a major cleanup on the list.

There I was, happily watching the first of the Saturday cooking shows and anticipating the running of the Preakness (second of the triple crown races), when Bloop! the power went out.  Seriously?!  To add insult to injury, when I called to report the outage, all I got was a recording that said they were having "issues" and couldn't take any calls.  Sure glad it wasn't an emergency.  The power came back before I could work up a good froth, yay!  The kicker to this tale is that within minutes of the TV coming on, PG&E  called to tell me that the power had been restored.  Duh.

After that, the day went pretty much as planned.  My horse, Bourbon War (surprise, surprise), came in eighth.  Sigh.  Deb cleaned up on her bet with Craig and came away with seventy-five cents!

I finally succumbed and lit a fire.  It was the dampness more than the cold that drove me to it.  Stove didn't seem to mind.  I may call him into service again today as it is still raining!  Enough already.

Worn out by his predawn shenanigans, Ralph slept most of the day.  I made an early night of it, too.  As I'd thought, it was a long day.

Front And Center

Ralph, in a rarely seen contemplative moment on a rainy, windy day.  Not racing up and down the hall or up and down the stairs, not tussling with Celeste, not sliding across the kitchen floor, not batting piglets back and forth, just sitting quietly.  It didn't last long.

I could have batted him this morning.  Admittedly, I get up unnecessarily early, but I like to do it on my terms, and 4:30 is where I draw the line.  Three-thirty a.m., and Ralph is going around the bedroom knocking things over and off the bureaus, plink, plonk, plop.  He comes up on my pillow and wants to get into the cat cave.  I lift the cover, he crawls in to snuggle, but before I could get back to sleep, he leaves.  He left to start a hiss-and-bite fight with Celeste, who had also been trying to sleep on the bed by my feet.  Okay, all right, I'm up!  Ralph certainly knows how to get attention.

It's going to be a long day.

Where Did It Go?

Spring was here.  I know...I saw it, but we are back in the throes of winter now.  Rain on Wednesday, rain yesterday, rain today, and rain predicted for another week!  Snow is falling up on the mountain, enough to cause road closures.  I'd been down to wearing short-sleeve tee-shirts, now I'm back to thick sweatshirts, and the comforter is back on the bed.  I've been giving Stove a thoughtful eye, but make do with a jacket and an afghan (so far).  I heaped more blessings on Stan's head when I came back up from the barn with dry britches and socks after strolling down the freeway in the pen.

My mother-in-law is 94 now and in assisted living.  Lynne, Stan's wife, had reduced MIL's belongings to accommodate her new quarters and came across this picture and Stan delivered it.  I'd made it years and years ago for Steve and Stan's parents' anniversary.  It is of the teeny-tiniest cross-stitch imaginable.  I had to put on my glasses and get in a good light now to see if it was cross-stitch or petit point.  Once upon a time I did every craft that came down the pike...no more.  Like spring, I wonder where that enthusiasm went.

Dear Hearts And Gentle People

"Dear Hearts And Gentle People," 1949 song, Bing Crosby.

I am surrounded by kindness, dear hearts, and the best people walking.  Stan showed up in the misty morning about 7:30 or so.  Given the weather, I wouldn't have blamed him if he'd begged off, but no, he said he'd be here and he is a man of his word.  A quick chat and, "Let's get this done!"

I led the way to the barn to put food down for Missy and to give Stan an idea where the hidden path might be.  Keep in mind he was working with a weed-eater on three-foot high tough grasses.  This is what it looked like when he started at the top .

It misted, it rained, and misted again.  All I could do was stand and offer moral support and keep the girls out of the way.  Stan had worked his way down to the barn, and wouldn't quit.  As if the path wasn't enough, I'd asked him to detour and cut close to the pile of cut wood as we're coming into snake season and the woodpile and cavern underneath would be a perfect haven for reptiles.

Along about here, Stan needed to go back to his truck for something or other and the girls, who had been quivering in fear in the barn, came out of hiding.  Oooh, something new!  They both had to sniff and taste the weed-eater, and it was my job (at last I had something to do) to chase them away.  It was rented equipment and I didn't want it to go back looking like it had been attacked by beavers.

Not satisfied with the first pass, Stan refined and widened the path on the way back up.  I'm not sure you can see his satisfied grin at the top.  As I've said, I'd hoped for a path and ended up with a freeway.

Not sure when he'd get here, I'd thrown together an unsatisfactory lunch.  The best I can say is that it was hot and filled up an empty spot.  Stan deserved better.  We did have time to sit and talk for awhile before he needed to head back down to the valley.  He's such good company.  How do you say thank you for all he'd done?

It was an on-again, off-again wet day, so it was a great surprised when Beau came by unannounced to get a start on the mowing.  JNSD, who had just gotten a new battery, was cranky and wouldn't start.  What the heck?!  Don't laugh...Beau figured out that he had to smack the steering wheel while turning the key to get the blankety-blank machine to go.  He mowed the back yard before it started to rain in earnest.

Dear hearts and gentle people.  What else  can I say?

Feelin' It

There were so many calls, texts, cards and FB cards yesterday that I most certainly felt the affection and love from family and friends.  I appreciate each and every one of you.

On any given day, I don't feel my years (of course, there are the others).  The mirror tells me my days of turning cartwheels are over.  The trick there is not to look in the mirror, and just don't do cartwheels.  I'm neither proud nor dismayed at my age.  I got here simply by keepin' on keepin' on.  I haven't yet gotten to the stage where my father was.  I was filling out some form or another for him:  "Okay, Daddy, you're 83, right?"  "No I'm not."  "Well, how old are you?"  "I'm 183!"  Man, it was hard to keep a straight face.  (I put down 83.)

Did I mention the weeds are out of control?  That's my knee disappearing into the greenery.  Also, those are foxtails in abundance.  Just two goats can't keep up with the mowing.  When the herd was bigger, they kept the weeds at bay in the pen.  My brother-in-law is coming up today to weed-eat around the property.  I just hope he beats the predicted rain.  It would be awful to come all this way for naught, except he is such good company I'd be a winner either way.

After all the foofah of the day before, yesterday the cats and I spent quiet time together.  I was feelin' that, too.

One Small Hitch

Yesterday was such a productive day.  I got so much done on a trip to town.  A couple of errands before a doctor's appointment were crossed off the list first and didn't take as long as I'd thought, getting me to the office early enough to sit and read for a bit (never leave home without a book).  The exam went well except for the fact I've been prescribed another pill.  Me, who has never taken more than two pain pills a year!  Now I feel like I rattle when I walk after gulping six or seven a day.

I mentioned I'd be spending today at DMV, hoping it wouldn't take the entire day.  "Oh, no, go today!"  She said she'd heard that it was easier and quicker to go to DMV in the afternoon, around four if possible.  "Once you're signed in, they have to process you even if it's after hours, no matter how many are waiting."  Hmmm.  I had to wait for the prescription to be filled anyhow, might as well give it a go.

I got a clue when there were some empty parking spots in the lot at DMV, unheard of.  Going in, I was third in line to sign in!  After a very short wait, I was called to give information, etc, and there was an open computer to apply to take the test.  After that and before taking the test, I was sent back to the first gal to take an eye exam, and that was where I hit a small hitch in the git along.  I couldn't pass.  Aarrgh!!  It's been probably over four years since I've seen the optometrist.  I see fine for distance and use cheaters for reading; it's the middle ground where I seem to have a wonky eye.  I was given a temporary license until I see the eye man, and I'll be calling for an appointment today.  They'll be sending the men in white coats after me next.  Regardless, the nice lady sent me down the line to have my photo taken.  No!  Not having planned this part of the outing, my hair looked like I'd gone through a wind tunnel and I wore no makeup.  I sure didn't want to be recorded for posterity like this, but in for a penny, in for a pound (and I didn't have a choice).  I held off taking the test until I return.  I want to say this, and I said it to the nice man who took the picture, DMV gets a bad rap:  zombie-like employees and waiting times that stretch for hours. I've been going to the Placerville office for over twenty years and have never had to wait all that long and have never been helped by anyone who wasn't smiling and accommodating.  I will be filling out the "How Are We Doing" card and saying they're doing fine.  I picked up my prescription and beat feet home.

On the way into town on any given day, my focus is on getting there.  It's on the way back that I have a chance to take a breath and see what's around me.  The iris farm is blooming in a variety of colors and open for sales.  The hills are covered in fields of bright yellow wild mustard, and there are banks of blue lupine along the road.  And, believe it or not, regardless of what DMV says, I could see it all.

Given that one hitch, it was a good day.

Let The Good Times Roll

"Let The Good Times Roll" (Louis Jordan and his Timpani Five, 1946)

Wow, what a weekend!  Deb and Craig's visit on Saturday was such a good day.  I hadn't heard from Dave or Clay; they are both busy and working hard so I hadn't expected to see either of them  Dave sent a nice text and Larry called in the morning and I was a happy camper.  I was getting ready to make a run up to Holiday when there was another, rather confusing, text from Dave, followed by a call.  Seems he was in Mt. Aukum and was coming here and bringing friends.  Panic!  And then I remembered I'd already spiffed up the house and was actually ready for company for a change.  Whew.

The group arrived in no time.  Dave was on his bike (motorcycle), no surprise as it was a beautiful day for a ride, followed by one of his club members and his wife in a car.  I'd not met them before; such a congenial couple.  Poor Dave, he is violently allergic to cats and the symptoms began immediately.  It's a sign of devotion that he comes here at all.  Even though Ralph and Celeste stayed out of sight, their fur lingers everywhere.  Dave and Rick took time to measure for that blown-off piece of flashing and fixed a stuck laundry room door.  Rick also discovered that the toilet in the guest bathroom was leaking (I hadn't seen it) and he fixed that.  Good guys.  That gave me time to get acquainted with Cherie (spelling?).  It was another afternoon of talk and laughter and seeing another of my Kids; doesn't get much better than that.  Clay called later from work and made it even better, just when I thought it couldn't.

The good times sure were rollin' this weekend!

Great Gettin' Up Mornin'

Once again I am "borrowing," this time from the title of a spiritual song I remember Harry Belafonte singing back in the '50-'60s.  Any time my Kids are coming up is a great getting up morning for me, and yesterday was just such a day.  Due to a stop to pick up KFC (oh yum!) for our lunch and slow traffic on our country roads, Deb and Craig didn't get here until one o'clock or so.  That was perfect because it gave me time to dust, clean up the front porch, and other sundry chores I'd let slide.  Oh, those smiling faces when they got out of the truck!  We had a long, leisurely meal with lots of talk and laughing.  In addition to the KFC, they brought a box of macarons for dessert, something I'd seen on TV but never had...good stuff!

It's become almost a tradition for Craig to stretch out in the recliner for a nap in the afternoon when they come up.  (He's not the only one this place has that effect on.  It's so peaceful here.)  That gave Deb and me time to talk girl talk and catch up.  Ralph, oh Ralph!  Just as Bess Anne flirted with any male who walked in, Ralph is getting a reputation as a ladies' man.  He'd made a pest of himself with Arden, but ohmigosh, he was the next best thing to obnoxious with Deb.  He absolutely would not leave her alone, pulling out all the "cute" tricks in his bag to get her attention.  Fortunately, she has Clyde, her cat at home, so she could accept and laugh at Ralph.

We rejoined Craig when he woke up for more talk.  All too soon it was time for the Kids to leave, with "Love you!" echoing down the drive.  I'd no more than walked back into the house when the invisible Celeste appeared.  Celeste is not a people person.

It was a very good day.

Give A Hoot

Don't you just love the internet?  A wealth of information right there at your fingertips.  Considering the multitudinous hours I spent in libraries when younger researching this, that, and the other thing, I'm absolutely gobsmacked at the instant answers to darned near anything.

There's been an owl working the neighborhood morning and night in the dark, hooting almost constantly.  It always seemed counterproductive to me to announce one's presence when hunting prey.  Owls are built for silent flight, so why keep yelling?  This morning, hearing the owl again, I asked the internet.  Seems it's a territorial thing to keep other owls away from a claimed hunting ground.  Okay, it makes sense now to give a hoot.

Arden came over yesterday bringing nibbles.  We take turns on Fridays, it's becoming a regular thing.  We watch TV together as she doesn't get some channels at home.  The two most used buttons on my remote are mute and fast forward.  I love not hearing commercials, and also halting a program should we wish to talk.

There's nothing quite like waking up to the sound of a cat yarking in the dark o' morn.  Anyone with a cat will tell you that the best way to find that hairball is with bare feet.  Thanks, Ralph.

I am so looking forward to today.  Deb and Craig are coming up!

Rolling Thunder

I'm stealing again.  Rolling Thunder is the name given to a massive group of veteran motorcyclists who have gathered together since 1987.  The group raises money and awareness for veterans, POWs, and MIAs.  They hold a rally every year in Washington, D.C., however this year will be the last.

Arden came over for a visit in the morning on a perfectly lovely day.  Ralph recognizes a friend when he sees one and actually made a pest of himself, demanding attention from Arden.  Celeste was under the bed as usual.

It was in the afternoon that the show started.  At first there were a few intermittent booms of distant thunder.  They started coming nearer and closer together and loud!  It sounded like Rolling Thunder was riding though the hills and it went on and on.  I never saw any lightning.  Then the rain came, just a spattering at first, and then a downpour.  It didn't last long.  Well, Truck got a good bath.

Assistants

The cats have decided I need some help in the decorating department and have been busy lately rearranging the couch, moving pillows almost daily and, for some unknown reason, tugging the slipcover out.  Celeste seemed satisfied or worn out and took a rest.  Ralph takes his turn, too.

Helper Dude came in the afternoon and did a bunch of much-needed weed-eating.  He's such a good dude.  Stan, my brother-in-law, is another one.  We talked yesterday and he insisted he would come up to mow, so we will reschedule for next week.  Heaven knows I need the help so I wasn't going to refuse assistance when it's offered.  With all these assistants, one of these days this place may look good again.

Oh Well

One of those days.  Didn't get as much done as I'd hoped yesterday.  Watched the weather forecast and saw that rain or thunderstorms are due for Thursday so I left a message for Stan and let him off the hook for coming to mow on Friday.  No sense in making the trek for nothing.  I did catch up with Helper Dude and he said he'd come over after work someday and whittle away at what needs to be done.  I'm good with that.  HD has been my guy for six years now, responsible, hard working, and reliable.  I wish there were more like him.

Ralph and Celeste are trying hard to fill the gap in our lives.  I'm rarely without one or the other in my lap.  Ralph is sitting on my legs right now.  I have to swivel sideways so he can be there, making it difficult to type, yes, but it's worth it for his company.  I get such a kick out of these two.  They are so different.  Like the Kids, related, but such individuals.  Ralph likes to be stroked and Celeste prefers a kind of scrubbing when she wants to be petted, which is most of the time.  Celeste is a couch potato (where did that term come from?) and Ralph runs around like he's lost his mind, racing up and down the stairs and the hallway.

What didn't get done still needs doing.  It's getting light outside and I need to get moving.  Oh well.

Charge!

Okay, all systems are GO!  Batteries are new, air conditioning is blowing cold air, and the blinkety-blink tail light is blinking again!  I learned a long time ago never to ask "what next," but I think I'm pretty well set for the moment, equipment-wise.

The gal who owns the auto shop gave me a ride home when Truck needed a prolonged stay yesterday.  She was driving a rock-crawler Jeep vehicle that was so high off the ground that I really needed a crane to get in.  I'm glad I wasn't watching or I'd have fallen down laughing at my struggles.  Her regular car had been smooshed when she hit one of those deer I keep warning my Kids about.  When she picked me up, I had a milk crate here to use as a step stool.  After reclaiming Truck, I filled him up with gas before it hit $4 a gallon.  Jeez Louise, I haven't seen prices like this for decades.

It's the time of year when we live the wild life (party on!).  I am seeing more and more jackrabbits and quail, and when I go out on the deck I startle deer grazing below.  On FB I see postings of sightings of mountain lions in the area nearly every day.  Thankfully, I've not seen any of those.  My own little wild cat, Missy, is waiting in the barn for her breakfast nearly every day.  She has set her own routine:  I am to put the food in her dish and then she expects to be petted and stroked, turning her head to show me what I should do.  And I do.

I did reschedule with Stan for mowing as the grass is still so wet.  His namesake, Stanley, made an attempt at another attack in the morning, but I heard him coming and was able to ward him off.  I'm begining to feel like a lion tamer as I use the feed dish like a shield when I go in the pen.

Now I need to charge ahead with housekeeping as the Kids are coming up this weekend.

Whine Country

We're not as big or well known as Napa, but more and more vineyards are gong in around Fair Play.  Vineyards mean wineries and wineries mean more traffic on our little country roads.  Sigh.  My neighbor's vines are starting to leaf out.  I will admit they're a pretty crop.

Beau came to see if John Not-So-Dear would start.  Not surprisingly, stubborn John wouldn't, even after Beau put him on a charger.  Well, wasn't that just great.  Beau said he was going down to Mt. Aukum anyhow and would I like him to buy a new battery.  Yes, please.  Between Truck and John, it's an epidemic!

Beau said he'd be back later in the afternoon.  While waiting, I made a run up to Holiday, driving with crossed fingers because of the one nonfunctioning taillight.  I was in the frozen food aisle when I saw a small package of creamed chipped beef.  Ohmigosh!  I was transported back in time.  Creamed chipped beef (known to servicemen as SOS-ask one to explain) was a staple on the menu when I was a kid, and I made it for my Kids, too.  I haven't had it for years, so put the package in my cart.  Gosh, it was good.

Beau came back with the new battery and installed it.  In the few minutes it took, I started feeling raindrops.  It had been such a lovely day.  Yes, there were some clouds overhead, but nothing that would portend rain.  Once again, the hills are hidden behind a bank of fog this morning.  If it rains today, I'll have to call my brother-in-law who was going to come up to mow and tell him not to come.  Can't mow tall wet grass.  Whine.

Take The Fifth

How is it, I wonder, that America came to celebrate the fifth of May (Cinco de Mayo).  It is, after all, a commemorative celebration of a Mexican victory of an 1862 battle with the French.  Since we are a nation of immigrants, I guess it makes sense that we take any and every opportunity to celebrate each and every nationality.  Aren't we all Irish on St. Patrick's Day?  Regardless, take the Fifth and have a taco!

Knowing I'd be glued to the television yesterday, I put the servants to work to do a lot of laundry and the dishes to ease my conscience.  It is said that Derby Day is four hours of waiting for two minutes of racing.  There are, of course, other races before The Big One, but everyone looks forward to the Kentucky Derby, the last race of the day.  I actually did pretty well with my picks, coming in no lower than "show," third place.  No one expected the end of the Derby, though, when the winner was disqualified for interfering with other horses, the first time in history.  Another horse was stripped of the winner's title in 1968 because of drugs, but that was days after the fact and had none of the drama of yesterday.  The decked-out crowd of hundreds of thousands in attendance were silent, waiting for the stewards' decision, and then broke out in pandemonium when the new winner was announced.  My sympathy went to the owner of the disqualified horse; he is an older man who was in tears of happiness when he thought his horse had won.  I can't imagine his sorrow now.  Now we wait for the Preakness in a couple of weeks.  Because Country House was such a long shot, I doubt we'll see a Triple Crown winner this year, but hey, that's horse racing and it could happen.

Remember When

In 2003, Alan Jackson wrote a great country/western song "Remember When."  The lyrics are not relevant here, but I'm stealing the title.

Remember when bottle and jar caps could be removed without a screwdriver and pliers?  When brown paper bags were all that were offered in the grocery store and they were free?  And we recycled them ourselves into book covers and to wrap packages.  Remember when dancing was a good excuse to hold your partner close?  When kids could play outside all day and parents didn't worry if they were out of sight?  Remember when Sunday drives were a real form of entertainment for the whole family?  We always stopped for an Orange Julius before heading home.  (Of course, that was before freeways.)  Remember when cars had individual characteristics and you could tell a Chrysler from a Chevy or a high-class Cadillac?  I could fill a page with all that has gone...just gone.

I avoided a visit to Vampire Hall yesterday as my numbers have improved.  Doc seemed pleased and has extended my trips from every three weeks to every three months, and that certainly pleases me.  I'd noticed on the way into town that a turn signal was acting wonky, so on the way home I stopped to have it looked at.  Light bulbs and a fuse were replaced, to no avail.  Turns out that brake light was also nonfunctioning.  Oh crum.  Back to "remember when."  I wasn't sure if there were any drivers out there who understood hand signals for turning.  They probably thought I was some crazy lady waving her arm out the window.  I have an appointment at the shop on Monday.  I'll get the air-conditioner repaired at the same time.  It got really hot yesterday and summer is just around the corner, and I'm a lady who likes her comfort.

The Kentucky Derby runs today, so I know what I'll be doing.  I remember when Derby Day was a good reason for a party.  Of course, we never needed a reason back then.

PS:  I was playing "remember when" with a cousin yesterday and she said, "Remember when there used to be large jars of huge, crunchy, sour dill pickles on store counters and they were a nickel each?  When's the last time you saw one of those?"  It's a good game for those of us of a certain age.  Feel free, as Emmy did, to join in!

Sleep

"Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care" (Shakespeare), "Sleepy Time Gal" (Song 1925).  Both applied to me yesterday.  Took a nap.  Woke up in time for Arden's visit and make a plate of nibbles.  It's a good thing she was coming to watch a program or two because I fell asleep while she was here and didn't wake up when she left.  Some hostess I am.  Woke up for a phone call.  Back to sleep.  Repeat.  Slept all night in the chair and didn't wake up until just a little while ago. It was as if I'd been poleaxed.  Guess I must have needed it.

Look what else burst into bloom while I wasn't watching, the Spanish lavender by the first shed.  It doesn't have the same perfume as the French, but it sure is pretty (and the ground squirrels don't eat it!).

Obviously not much to say about yesterday.  Oh well.

Good Grief

My sister used to quote a Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times," although she personalized it to "...live an interesting life."  Well, regardless of which side of the political fence one stands, we are certainly living in interesting times worldwide.  Only a few piddly chores got done yesterday because I got hooked watching the Senate hearing for Attorney General Barr.  Fascinating, irritating, educational stuff.  It's just as well the AG is refusing to meet with the Representatives today because I have things to do.

Ohmigosh, I miss Bessie Anne.  I am reminded of her at every turn, thankful for such happy memories, but I'd rather have my friend.  Washing and putting her food bowl away hurt.  Seeing her treats and thinking of our morning ritual, ouch.  Waiting for her to catch up on the way back from the barn, forgetting for a moment that she won't be coming.  Bess was a friend who never let me down.  If there is such a thing, I'm in the throes of good grief.  It's going to take a while to quit being so emotional, but I won't forget my girl.

The weather is lovely, the days are longer, and Arden is coming over today...all good stuff.

Fresh Start

"What A Difference A day Makes" (Dinah Washington), "A Foggy Day In London Town" (Frank Sinatra & others)...some of the music in my head yesterday.

Same view of the wisteria, just to give an idea of the change in the weather in one day.

Looking to the east, the fog was worse.  Goofy goats, with all that lush green grass, they still go for the dry alfalfa.  Go figure.

It hadn't rained, but the tall grasses were wet with dew or fog water and I was soaked to the knee by the time I got back from the barn.  Not just damp, I'm talking wring-'em-out wet, and my shoes were squelching.  I had to break out a new pair of bibbies I'd been saving for dress up and change to my go-to-town shoes.

At least I was presentable when I had to take Truck to the local garage to get a new battery.  He'd been a little slow to start lately and the gauge was to the left of midline.  I'd had it briefly checked at Wally World, but it was inconclusive and they said they'd need more time than I had then to do it right.  I noted the sticker on the battery that showed it was four years old.  I live so far out in the boonies and can't take a chance on being without a vehicle.  New battery installed, Truck was raring to go.  I paid the nice man and off we went.  I'd barely turned onto Omo Ranch Road, just a hop, skip, and jump away from the shop when I turned around and went right back.  "What now?" asked the nice man.  I'd forgotten that when the battery is detached all the dash electronics lock up and have to be reactivated.  I could do without the clock, but the radio is a necessity.  Nice Man figured out how to make it happen and we left again, happy to have a fresh start.

The sun isn't up yet, but it's light enough to see the hills to the east.  Looks like it's going to be a good day.