Shows and No-shows

Who knew that beetles dress in pinstripe suits?  This slow-moving fellow seemed in no hurry to get to his business meeting, so Pete and Jake had a chance to get a good look at him while they were here.  The turkey moms and their kids also put in an appearance every day, but Pete was disappointed that no bats showed up at dusk.  I wish they had, not just to show them off, but because the mosquitoes are out again and the bats would have had a feast.  I'd told Pete of the turkey wars of the past, males doing battle, urged on by the females.  No toms had come by during his visit, but yesterday I heard the war cries and there were the boys going at it, spurs flashing and feathers flying.  Pete will just have to take my word.

The day after company leaves is pretty much a do-nothing day for me.  Right now, with temps on the rise again, I can use the heat as an excuse, but I would sit on my duff even if it were the middle of winter.  The most ambitious tasks accomplished were keeping the feeders filled for the hummers and watering the deck plants.  Snacking on leftovers, watching DVR'd programs, napping off and on, I looked around at all the things that need doing and put them on the list for "tomorrow."  Well, it's now "tomorrow" and time to start crossing stuff off that list.

It was a good day.

Helping Hands

It began early.  Tessie got spooked just after I'd gotten her into the milking room.  She made a mad scramble for the nearest exit, which happened to be the hole in the door (that I hadn't fixed on purpose because of the air flow).  Somehow, Tess got herself through, ripping the door off its bottom hinge in the process.  Pete didn't say anything, but I could hear him thinking, "Oh, no!  Not another thing to fix."  Tessie, the silly goose, after wreaking havoc, turned right around, came in and got up on the stand as if nothing had happened.  That's a goat for you.  I finished with the milking line up and locked the girls into the other pen.  A guy doesn't need six supervisors on a job.  (Poppy couldn't have cared less.)

Fortunately, I already had the replacement panel cut to size, but it took time to dismantle the door, find new nails and screws (it had taken me five years to find where Steve, with his convoluted storage system, had put nails in the first place), and realign the frame.  After days of great weather, yesterday was hot, of course.  Pete and Jake had planned to head for home about one, but this unexpected setback certainly delayed their departure.  Working as a team, they got the repaired door back in place, a job well done.  Anyone who knows Pete will look at this photo and wonder what it is that is different.  After a lifetime of hair that was curlier than mine, his hair has gone straight (and nearly white)!

Showered, fed, and rehydrated, the guys finally drove down the drive about three-thirty, facing a long drive after a long day.  It was hard to see them go.  The house was unnaturally quiet.  Bessie and Frank went into a blue funk; Jake had become their special friend and they missed him as much as I.

I walked around the property at sundown before putting the critters to bed.  Everything looks so neat and tidy, evidence of all the hard work the boys did on their "vacation."  There are times when chores get ahead of me and I'm overwhelmed.  With their help, Pete and Jake got me back to square one where now it will be a matter of just keeping up.  I am so grateful for their helping hands.

It was a good visit.  It was a good day.

Day Off

The rolling weed-whacker had been giving Pete fits from the git-go, starting or not, running or not, seemingly possessed by some perverse gremlin.  Some machines are just like that.  I'd been telling him to just leave it be, he and Jake had done enough the day before, but it's hard to get a grown man to mind when a task has become a challenge.  While I milked, I could hear the whacker running for a bit, and then silence.  It wasn't until a small piece broke in front of his eyes that Pete finally threw in the towel and could leave the field of battle with honor.  (Did I say that competitiveness is a strong family trait?)  That meant we could honestly take the rest of the day off without guilt.

I'd recorded the first two episodes of "The Newsroom," a series that just began and that I wanted the boys to see.  The theme is integrity in the media (or lack thereof) and the need for an informed electorate.  It's a subject that Pete and I have discussed, and Jake is old enough to vote this year and needs to start questioning his sources.  Unless it's a race day, I don't usually push television on my guests, but we had the day off and had time for a little TV before moving on to the main event back at the card table.

I took a break to make some tartlets filled with caramelized onions, topped with a mixture of homemade goat cheese, egg, and fresh thyme and baked, to be eaten while still warm.  The cook took the rest of the day off, too.  With enough leftovers in the fridge to feed Cox's army, it was a fend-for-yourself night for dinner.

Calling it quits at eleven last night, I slunk off to bed, a disappointed loser.  Dang, I hate when that happens!

It was a good day, even so.

Men (Still) at Work

I'd say there was no rest for the wicked, but they've been such good boys.  We awoke to fog yesterday and it was cold enough to put on jackets...in July!  Given such perfect weather conditions, Pete and Jake got a few instructions on lawn tractor and rolling weed-whacker and, while I went on with my morning chores, they started mowing and whacking all over the place.  Like Energizer Bunnies, they just kept going and going until they had this place looking like Farm Beautiful.  (I think they really liked the little tractor, and took turns on it!)  They certainly earned a hearty lunch and then, what a surprise, we played cards for the rest of the afternoon.  I won, and then left the arena to fix dinner.

At sundown, Jake came along with his dad in hopes of seeing the Wallendas put on their show, and the mice didn't fail to delight.  One tiny little one became ring shy and didn't want to make the final leap for freedom, staying in the bucket until urged out and then hanging around on the stand.  He finally made an awkward jump and a terrible landing before scurrying off after the others.  Cheap entertainment.

The guys discovered an "antique" X-Box (from when they first came out) and a stack of games.  Technology has swiftly moved on, but it's still strange to hear an eighteen-year-old say, "Remember when...."  I begged off for early(er) bedtime and left them happily blowing up tanks and firing missiles.

It was a good day.

Workin' Men

"Oh, goody!  A vacation at Mom's!"  Not.  I recognize an opportunity when I see one, and wasn't about to turn down an offer of help.  We got a break in the weather, so while I milked, the boys (I know they're men, but I'm the Mom/Grandma and they'll always be my boys) cleaned the barn like it hasn't been in ages.  We still had the opportunity to keep talking across the stalls, so it wasn't lost time.

Kellan and Wil stopped by for milk and brought a supply of fresh vegetables and salad greens.  How's that for perfect timing?  I'm always so proud to introduce my Kids to my friends, and vice versa.

It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows us that we broke out the cards in the afternoon, and there went the rest of the day.  Taking on all comers, I emerged as Champion of the Day!  (It's a ritual we've had for years that humbles the losers and exalts the winner.  It's good to be queen!)

Not through for the day, into the kitchen we went and I made the boys work for their dinner.  Making homemade pasta was a new experience for them (come to think of it, so was cleaning a barn).  Pete and Jake took turns being the handler and manning the crank.  In no time at all they were working like pros and the fettuccine was perfect.  I made a spicy Cajun shrimp sauce to pour over it and that with the fresh salad greens was a yummy meal.

During the barn chores in the morning, a few squirrels and mice did make brief appearances, but they tend to be shy around strangers.  Pete went with me to put the girls to bed.  I heard rustling in the hanging feed bucket and told Pete to "come see."  Taking the lid off the bucket, I'm not kidding when I say that a minimum of fifteen mice raced in circles and sprang out like popcorn, running for their hidey-holes.  Pete cracked up laughing at his introduction to the Flying Wallendas.  Welcome to farm life!

I put on a movie for the guys...and went to bed.

It was a good day.

Taste of Home

The apricot pie did it for me; my own little time machine.  From picking fruit in our orchard to fish fries at the beach with pie for dessert, I was a kid again in summertime.  For my son Pete, it was the potato salad.  He started exclaiming at first bite that it was just as he remembered it.  A certain taste, a smell, a few notes of a forgotten song and memories come flooding back.

It was a long drive for Pete and Jake and they arrived just before it was time to put the critters to bed.  If I miss curfew, the chickens will tuck themselves in, just waiting for me to close their doors.  Jake came with me down to the barn where there were a few moments of chaos because the goats were spooked at going into dark stalls.  Smoke from the wildfires burning to the north made spectacular striations against the last of the sunlight.  After dinner we sat at the table and talked until after midnight.  It's been two years since I've seen these guys and we barely scratched the surface of catching up.

My furry little alarm clocks made sure I didn't oversleep this morning, even though I begged for five minutes more.  They take their job seriously.  The boys are still asleep.

No Cooperation

I've been trying to get a photo of Huey and Dewey, those moosey, overgrown scrub jay adolescents down at the barn, but by the time I get the cell phone-camera out of my bibbies while milking one-handed, a parent will bring a tidbit and the boys get so excited they darned near fall off the perch and the pictures show just a blur of wings and open mouths.

Sheila pulled an "Inga" yesterday and refused to come in to be milked, preferring to stay up with the alfalfa and looking at me like she'd never heard the word 'Sheila' before in her life.  After schlepping a big bag of grain to the barn, milking the others, and cleaning the stalls, I was disinclined to chase her the length of the pen in the heat.  I gave her fair warning and plenty of time to change her mind, but no, so I picked up the buckets and went home.  We'll both pay for that today.

My guys are due in tonight, and that meant a major shopping trip yesterday.  A trip to the grocery store plus an errand or two took almost five hours, including travel time.  No wonder I go only once a month.  I'd planned on getting apples for a pie, but when I found ripe apricots at a decent price, I changed that plan immediately.  Usually the stores carry rock-hard, green, flavorless apricots, but these were at the peak of perfection and I couldn't resist.  Going back again to my childhood, apricot pie epitomizes the flavor of summer for me, more than sweet corn, more than watermelon.  I could say this pie will be for Pete and Jake, but if truth were told, this one is for me!

Well, as Frost wrote, "I have miles to go before I sleep."  There's a lot more than baking pies to do today.  I'll bet Sheila is the first one in the door this morning!