Sept 3, 2012 Babysitting



Cutting down trees



Not a good year for carrots!




















Ahhh, September. Orange has become the dominant color on much of the forest floor. Fire weed has begun to change to its brilliant Autumn red. And morning temperatures are usually in the high 30's or low 40's. It feels good, but I wonder where the summer went.

I was going to clean the chimney on Saturday, but we got a late start and by the time we sprayed the three wasp nests that were being built in the eaves near where I had to climb up on the roof, it was just too hot. Will try again on Tuesday.

Saturday evening Jesse came in the house smelling of skunk. He was smart enough this time not to get too close, but he was certainly in the near proximity. So it was bath time for him, which is definitely not his favorite activity, nor mine as I usually end up spraying myself, even with JB's help. This morning there is only the occasional hint of skunk about him, but I think that is from his collar. It should be gone in a few days.

I am taking care of Larry and Elsie’s place while they are gone for a long weekend at the lake. Sunday morning’s temperature was 42 when I left at 8:15 to drive down, so I layered on the clothes. I saw rabbits, chipmunks and grouse on my way down and back up. Larry is the one who sees the big game - deer, elk and bear - when he is out on his four-wheeler. I think his aura calls to them. When I am on Elsie’s four-wheeler, my aura just screams, "Woo Hoo! Having fun now!"

When I returned, JB had the German pancakes ready to go into the oven. Yummm. We spent the rest of the day cutting down four trees that were in and around the woodshed. JB cuts them down. I trim the branches, then we carry the tree to the pile near the splitter. I use the wheelbarrow to haul all the branches to the chipper pile.

I have a nagging feeling that those "bites" on my side are actually shingles. Guess I better make an appointment to see the doctor this week.

When I wrote of our Grandparents’ propensity for nipping at the bottle, my Aunt Nene sent me an e-mail saying that my Grandpa Herb (her Father) would always have a bottle of Tequila with the worm in it and would offer a swig to guests.  He spent a couple of years working on a ranch in Mexico and developed quite a relationship with those worms. . .

Thought for the day: Every man desires to live long, but no man would be old. Jonathan Swift.