Well, you can’t say it’s been dull.
First, to get this out of the way, because I’ve never learned to be comfortable with this kind of thing: There’s a big “Everything on Sale!” bonanza going on at patriciamcconnell.com. I’m posting this earlier than usual because the sale is over at midnight (eastern) on Monday.
I hope that’s helpful information.
Things at the farm are a little too dramatic. We’ve had biblical rain and wind, over and over again. Frogs have yet to fall from the sky, but at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised. We had two huge, beautiful oaks come down, one creating a pick-up-stick jumble 15 feet in the air:
They don’t call them “widow-makers” for nothing. We were at a funeral just a few weeks ago for pretty much the nicest man in the world who died chain sawing when a upper limb fell on him. Jim has been chain sawing like crazy, and you can imagine how relieved I was when he came back from the one above and said “We need to call in the pro’s.” Sweeter words have never been spoken.
But we had three other less complicated trees come down, and now this, a California Highway 101 mudslide:
For scale, it’s probably 15 feet from bottom to top. It’s between the county road and our farm road that leads to all the pastures up the hill. It’s considerably worse than what you see, because it downpoured AGAIN a few days ago after I took the photo. We are trying to find someone to help repair it, but no luck so far (the county is mum so far). It’s just going to get worse and worse, taking out the fence that keeps the sheep safe, and our farm road to the pastures. Never a dull moment.
The mudslide, of course, is related to the insane amount of rains we have gotten, reflected in this local cornfield.
Last sad and somewhat grumpy note: Poor Maggie. I took the dogs out to pee on Thursday July 4th, early afternoon, and wouldn’t you know it, our closest neighbor (maybe 1/4 a mile away?) decided to set off the loudest, most earth-shattering firecracker I’ve ever heard. Thus, this:
Maggie had run to the house. I let her in, turned around to round up Skip and found Maggie hiding under a bunch of jackets by the door to the garage. She’s usually been only mildly concerned about thunder and firecrackers, easily handled with “Thunder Treats” and jolly talk. Later in the day, when our country neighbors went full-bore with their firework “celebration,” Maggie was so frightened she refused treats. (Which is like saying that I refused to be with dogs or look at flowers.) I stayed up until late in the night with her until it quieted and she relaxed, but I’m still spluttering about it like a sparkler with no sparkles. A few days before I wrote a Facebook post (I think July 2nd, scroll down below the sale videos!) encouraging people to write community leaders to make only “low noise fireworks” legal. Maybe some day? (I read recently that someone said banning noisy fireworks made one a communist. For the record: I am not a communist.)
And, of course, our world has also been full of joy. The day lily garden is coming into its own, and the hydrangeas I planted in the background decided they like it there.
Last night we had a perfect evening with our veterinarian, John Dally (of the Spring Green Animal Hospital), and his equally wonderful wife and partner (also a vet), Ann Vetter. They recently adopted three mustangs from the west, and moved heaven and earth to create a safe but healthy environment for them. This is John and Buttercup, who I am officially now in love with (the horse, not John, although, he is the best vet in the world):
The last words today are from Maggie, who is on leash restriction for a bum rear leg or lumbar/sacral troubles: “I love Dr. Sarah Grenslit, but you should know that I am being tortured–no play, no running, no working sheep. And Skip gets to go to a clinic tomorrow. Please rescue me from this nightmare. Or, send chicken. Yeah, that’s it, lots and lots of chicken.” Here she is with Dr. Sarah, getting chiropractic treatment.
Whoops, not quite last words! I couldn’t resist letting you know about an event on July 3oth in Madison, WI that I’m participating in–a fund raiser for one of my favorite authors, friend, and all-round truly good guy, Nickolas Butler, who is running for the WI Assembly, 93rd District. I volunteered (what was I thinking?) to be the auctioneer for the evening, which I have no idea how to do, so it should be, at the very least, truly amusing. (One item is a visit to the farm to get to work Skip, aka, Mr. Wonderful.) There is no entry fee required, although, of course, his campaign manager would be so happy to receive a donation. You can RSVP here if you can come!
Okay, I’m off to do Maggie’s twice-daily massages, give Skip his optimmune for his Pannus, work Skip before it rains again, and see how little house cleaning I can get away with before friends come to brunch tomorrow.
Which means, I get to work Skippy Dip and pick flowers! So, life is good! I hope parts of yours are too, tell us about what’s good, and not good, at your place, we’d love to hear.
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