Coffee and an old friend

I'm trying to clear out my comics folder. And found this one.

I'm with you on this one Jeremy. I love coffee. If it's strong. And if it's sweet. I just don't like it just plain. And I don't like it weak. When I first went to WI, way back in '97, I spent a lot of time with a lady in her '70's who cracked me up on a regular basis. And never ceased to amaze me. For one thing- when we had to get somewhere and were running late... she drove. Western WI has a lot of hills, valleys (coulees) and curvaceous roads. I never had spent a lot of time driving on roads like that. Well- ok- there was the time that Dad took me to test drive a car some guy had advertised. We're peddling down the road and I'm driving, Dad's in the back seat, Owner's beside me. A curve and I suddenly realize we're heading into that thing a bit fast. And.... I closed my eyes. I did. Truly. Momentary panic. heh.

Anyway- what's that got to do with coffee? Oh yeah- Lillian. Well she drove fast (but only drove when we were in a hurry. That's when I closed my eyes). And she had a coffee joke repertoire. That included.
Standing by the window holding her coffee gazing up at the sky: Looks like rain.... Smells like coffee.
And: Oh careful there- get the coffee away from the edge of the table... it might fall off, it's so weak.
(canned laughter)
I liked hearing her repeat those.
When I was home 6 years ago I had a little time with L. But there were no more coffee stories, no more witticisms of any kind. Oh she could chuckle and rub her hands together at the same time just like always and look delighted. But there was nothing there. Lights on but no one home. It made me ache inside. And this time? There won't be any time with her. At all. Two months ago she was mercifully released from life. I'll miss seeing her in WI this fall but I'm thankful at the same time. Her smile was still there and a tidy 'house' but it was empty.
My Grandma J was the same way. The last time I saw her, she was 'home' if Grandpa was there; if he wasn't, she said over and over- I think it's time we were getting home. Shouldn't we be going home? 'Home' was Grandpa. It was sweet. But sad, too. She, too, has been released from that shell. Thankfully.
I recently saw another Dear Old Friend- my friend's father- with whom there will be no more chats, no more shared experiences, no more shared precious things that make the heart glad. His smile is beautiful and heart warming and ready. His spirit is gentle. And I'm so thankful for the very special time 11 years ago at Shoals. I'd not seen him for a few years and in that time he'd made a decision that lit him up from the inside out. I'd heard about it but couldn't really picture it. And then we ran into each other at Shoals. Every time he saw me he wanted to visit. Every time. He was my friend's father, my very good friend's father-in-law. And because of that he knew about me. And he wanted to share and visit. I'm thankful now for that very precious memory. Seeing him recently it all came back to me and I was glad beyond words that I had that special memory.

All that from a coffee comic. 

Dogs

I'd saved these comics quite awhile ago and just now found them again. I know I've been licked by dogs. Lots of them. And by a few cats, too. Cat tongues are a lot rougher than a dog's in case you didn't know an were actually wondering. I don't know if I ever liked it. I suppose I didn't mind it once long ago in an earlier version of me. I don't really like it anymore. I found that out when I met my sisters' 2 dogs. Princess and Baby. Baby's not so into licking. But Princess is. Yup. Just quietly sitting at the table minding my own business, eating or working or just yakking. And- eeep! Really Dog- I don't mind you but I don't like having my feet licked. Nope, not at all. It tickles. And besides all that- it's been quite awhile since I was ignorant of what all a dog does lick with that tongue. I.Just.Don't.Like.It. But thanks all the same. 

I'm sorry I 'nged' at you...

What? you ask. 'Nged' at you?

Yes. 

What's that?

Good question. But it's something a 5 year old can do to her 6 year old sister and make her cry. 

And there are 1001 other ways to make a 6 year old sister cry. Or a 5 year old sister. Or an 8 year old brother. Amazing. 

And you know what? I enjoyed it. OK, not the 'make them cry' bit but being with them! They're such little bundles of personality and imagination and creativity. Everything is part of The Game. Everything. Every day they played The Game. The details varied from day to day. Once a witch came and turned them into stones (but if you are tortured while you're a stone it doesn't hurt at all... because a stone, after all, doesn't feel a thing!); often they were all horses. And had to whinny while talking. (You try keeping a straight face while your 5 year old niece chats with you and whinnies every 4th or 5th word.) Sometimes they were gorilla monster toads. (I've never really figured out what a gorilla monster toad does but I guess it's terribly scary.)

And of course, the standard 'He's in my space', 'She touched me', 'He's laughing at me', 'She's looking at me'. Really- the crimes that were committed here every day are staggering and horrifying in nature. And the tears! A heart can be broken and healed a hundred times a day. With the 'tears' to 'prove' it... crocodile tears do count Don't they???
I'm trying to remember if we were like that. I reckon we were. I've just conveniently forgotten it. Thankfully. 

We did figure out one solution. Every night someone had to/got to sleep on the love seat in Aunt Nita's room. It didn't seem to matter that it was too short to stretch out on. And Aunt Nita was pretty happy with that arrangement, too. I sort of missed seeing that sweetheart on the love seat last night. 

In spite of the tears and squabbling and broken hearts- these kids are little darlings. They're brilliant. They're Aunties little angels. And they give good-night kisses (well- the girls do!)- and who wouldn't love that?!

My Boys

I have some pix to eventually post but they're still being held hostage on my phone!
I wrote about seeing my sister's kids for the first time. I have a brother who has 2 boys. And I've seen them, too!

The first thing I always notice about those 2 boys is how blonde they are. Especially the little guy. We've had some blondies in our family (my sis, in fact, does) but none are quite as blonde as Owen. And his white-blonde hair and gorgeous eye lashes punched me in the heart yet again. He's tall for his age and very quiet for the most part. But he's a little clown and loves to make you laugh. And then there's Forrest, the big brother. And his cow lick. Honestly, it's the most amazingly beautiful cow lick. And if ever there was the perfectly placed cow lick, his is that one. Just off center in his hairline high on his forehead. I had to make myself not touch it constantly. I mean- who wants Auntie constantly caressing their hairline? No one, likely.
When Ken and Miss arrived that first Sat am, I was blown away by their tall 'little' boys. They were quiet at first but got down to the business of roughhousing playing with their cousins fast enough. But they had big hugs for Auntie first!
I just spent the weekend with them.
Owen's voice is this soft low gravelly sound. He sounds older than he is. He's a sweet boy. He reminds me of a little hobbit- bravely following the big people but not quite sure he's ready to be where they are but very sure he doesn't want to be left behind so on he goes! And those eyelashes. Oh My Goodness. (Did I already mention them?) You've not seen eyelashes quite that long and gorgeous in a long time, I'm pretty sure!
Forrest loves Elvis, has a bit of a twang when he talks (not exactly but there's this 'something' in his voice- it cracks me up).
O & F have a cousin whom I've known since he was born. He's always been a big kid. When he was 3 1/2, he was working back in the salads with us at Menomonie and people thought he was 6. In the 2nd grade maybe. (He's 16 now and everyone still thinks he's older than he is but that's beside the point!) Well... 'my' little Forrest. My little nephew. The very first there was (for me). My Forrest is taller at the age he is now than his cousin was at the same age. Gulp. I'm not really ready for this. These are my babies. My little brother's kids. And I don't want people to think they're 21 when they're just barely 16. I don't want them to look 5 years older than the little kid that they are. I want them to be little kids for a lot longer yet, thank-you-very-much. Ok. 'Nuff of that. 
It was soooo nice to be with these 2 again. To see them play hard and get dirty and dusty and in need of a bath-y. To laugh with and at them. To smother them in chocolate and hot cinnamon! :) And I'm hoping to do it all again very soon!! xo

home

I'm home. At my folks'.
My oldest brother was in the yard playing with my sister's kids when we pulled in last night. Dad came strolling out of the house. Mom, Gina and I spilled out of the car. I headed for the kids. How could I not?
JM was in the swing being pushed (far too high, I'm sure) by Uncle Paul. She was loving it, of course. Touching leaves with your bare toes as you soar up into the tree- that's fun when you're 6. She was happy for a hug and to give a hug. She kept swinging, twisting around to look at me. I haven't seen you since... Well, I don't remember, she confessed (in her fairly deep and sober voice). I laughed. I had to. I mean- she was 18 months old when I left for Ukr the last time. But she was trying to be all grown-up about this 'My It's Been a Long Time' thing...
Miki came tumbling out of Uncle P's tent in the garden. With a hug. And a sober look up at me. You were a baby when I saw you last, I said. I guess you're 5 now (Auntie is the queen of clever comments, for sure.) Yes, she says. Madi is my twin; she's 5, too. She has a new bandanna from *Momy. It's purple- her favorite color- but apparently not the right shade. It makes her scowl a bit. But- she's stunning in it. Truly. I tied it around her head in typical Ukr village woman style and she's a knockout in that color. I don't think she believed me, though. She gave me a 'Yeah Right' look.
J-boy was in the tent, too. He roared around in embarrassed 8 year old boy fashion for awhile, charged me like a bull but stopped for a hug, too. Then caught fireflies, a frog and 'flew' the fly (rain cover) from Uncle P's tent like a kite... sort of. It involved a lot of running around and hanging on of anchor ropes... a job for 2 people, of course. Ask him a direct question and he shyly ignores it or runs away. But then he comes flying up with a treasured bit of J-boy trivia in his soft voice. He's not too big, either, for some serious pushing on the swing. Uncle P can really get them into the tree leaves. I hope that rope's strong, I said. Don't worry, he said. I've done this before and gone higher. It's not the first time. (heh. No more worries. For sure.)
Madi came zipping out of the house to whisper into her momma's ear, give Auntie a hug and then zip back in again. She'd been in the swing, too, but doesn't quite have the love of flying that her siblings do. She got swoopy feelings in her tummy and then got cold and quit. Apparently one can only convey these things to one's mother in a tiny whisper. ;) Later she came back out with a yellow sweatshirt Momy had found for her (and told her it was 'just the thing for her'- it's funny what registers and becomes Very Important Stuff in a 5 year old's mind).
Oh my- they've grown, these babies. All gangly legs and arms and bare feet, flying everywhere at the speed of light. And their voices. Much lower pitched than I'd imagined (I have, after all, had lots of skype chats with them. Maybe skype doesn't always convey everything like it is?).
My brother and his family come up tomorrow. I reckon their 2 boys will be a surprise, too.
But how sweet to be with them! And how sweet to be here for a bit. I'm going to just soak them up! Little Sweethearts!!

*Momy is my mom, the kids' grandma; it's the typical title among Amish and our family still uses it. Grandpa is 'Dawdy'.

or bathing suits. Afraid of them. They are scary. Ever noticed?

Missed this. Too bad. A nice healthy howl would have been just the thing... ;)

Just checking in. How are you? We're happily howling at the moon here, thanks, even though we (I) did miss the eclipse. Did you see it?

Fits and starts

It's been awhile (again) and it's late so...
We had great days last week. Lots of sun, some rain, some clouds. Lots of blankets and pillows aired. Lots of blankets re-folded and put away again. Lots of steps back and forth and so on.
This morning, a kid and I (ok, she's a young lady; she's a university student; she can hook up and run an IV and even ask all the right questions, do all the right things. When will I ever get used to these kids growing up on me? Never, that's when.) So, Irina and I got up bright and early and trekked across the road to the bus station. Bus was (supposed to be) at 8.40. At 8.35, no bus and I went to ask the dispatcher. She looked personally offended and assured me it would definitely be there. 10 min later, no bus. I go back, this time to the ticket counter, not wanting to risk offending the dispatcher completely. Ticket lady assured me it would come. Roam around looking and feeling doubtful. No bus. Then an announcement- our bus broke down and has been cancelled. All passengers should sell back their tickets. Great. I was first in line because I already was in hover mode. Get tickets for 9.50- an hour's wait. Too much baggage and too many steps to drag it all back to the apt so we find a spot and wait. Along about 9.45, with no bus in sight, I'm getting antsy again. At 10.00, in I go. To the dispatcher. Our bus hasn't come. She nods her head. It was supposed to be at 9.50. She nods her head. It's not coming, is it? She nods her head. Take your tickets and get on the 11.00 bus, she says. This time, we go up the hill a bit to a café for coffee and an early lunch. We have, after all, approximately an 8 hour bus ride.
About 15 min before bus time, back we go. The bus is there. Hurray!! Heh. And it's full. To capacity. No seats. Groan. Now this could get to be a long day. Sigh.
Dispatcher scurries over, looking for me. I have to buy your tickets back and sell you new ones, she gasps. Tickets on the earlier bus were more expensive than on this one. I hurry off after her and then mournfully explain what the morning's been like. And, I say plaintively, there are no seats. Nothing but standing room.
How is that possible, she asks. You have tickets. You don't stand when you have a ticket. Come on, I'll sell you places on the bus. There are just a bunch of people on that bus with no tickets (a common scenario, I might add. They simply buy them from the driver, generally at a lower price).
And you know what, she sold us tickets. With places 15 and 16. Now go out there and tell those people to give you your seats. And make the driver help you.
I scurried back out. There were a couple of teenagers in them. Umm, I say. Umm, we have tickets for those seats. (I felt bad...but we had a long way to go and, as it turned out, they didn't.) they looked like they'd been expecting that very thing for awhile already and quickly got up and moved to the aisle. I thanked them profusely and we sat.
The bus was crowded most of the way. People standing for hours. I asked one lady why she hadn't gone and gotten a ticket like we did. She said she'd tried at the last minute but couldn't. Had been told to come talk to the driver. And it dawned on me that, since we'd had tickets all along, they were good to us. And I decided then and there that no matter how much some drivers fuss at you for getting tickets inside, I'm going to cont doing it. Today, it was completely worth every hassle I've ever had in the past.
And today? Today, I met the nicest bus station lady/dispatcher ever. I had no idea they could be like that. She was sort of ouchy at first but totally came through for us. I could have hugged her. :)
And now...we're in. And it's late. We're far enough north here that this time of year is deceiving. Summer solstice. Gets dark late. 9.30 PM and you can see just fine out there. 10.00- it's twilight. So, it's high time to be in bed. But it's great to be here!
:)

Mr Tiny

Grandma has roses. Lots of them. Mr Tiny lives in the front part of the house.

Mr Tiny's Mom brought him down the hall to see us

Grandma makes tea out of the rose petals. Mr Tiny saw them.

And loved them. (hard to miss them strawberries there, eh? Seriously the best berries I've ever eaten. Ever)

Pick them up

Smell them. He was having so much fun, being so dramatic... but my phone camera is too slow to really capture all his drama. He followed this sniff motion up with a dramatic sweep up and away from his nose and by saying 'Ahhhh'. It was too cute.

Grandma was getting concerned for her potential tea. But really- you pour boiling water over it, right? So, it's gotta be clean, right? Right! ;)

Gone... to the dogs!

well- first to the cats. These guys are so sweet I can't stand it. Bend over to get laundry out of the basket and one of them will jump on your shoulder. Sit down- One's in your lap. They rub on your legs. They love to be loved. And they're so polite to boot. :)

This is Pirate. He's a mess. Underfed, underfat and wired to move. He loves company, he loves attention. 

He loves to have his ears rubbed (probably full of mites...) But- I've been feeding him table scraps off and on for 6 years now and he just grows on you. I think I'll bring him home with me, Ok? 

Blackie on the left (surprised you, didn't I?) All 4 of her feet are spring loaded and she goes 5 feet in the air if you even think about moving her direction. She's yappy. She's bouncy. But... she's cute. Choppa's on the right. She's another story. 

Blackie trying to hold still. No idea how that happened. 

Yes- so Choppa. She's a master escape artist. A regular Houdini. Slips her collar just because she can. So- Mr Man-Who-Lives-There had had enough. He fixed her wagon. Rigged up a collar that goes in front of AND behind her legs, encloses her chest. She was Put Out. Completely. So embarrassed she would hardly look at me. And so mad she snapped at and bit the other dogs if they got at all close to her. She was properly ticked off at having her wings clipped. Poor Baby. And...  she'd been puppied. There should be baby pups there any day now... oh joy.  

And then there's Lyustra (which means light- as in light bulb or chandelier). She's a biter by instinct. She's the one that has to be shut into her dog house when someone she doesn't know is working nearby. And she's scared. Of everything. And if you change direction suddenly and move towards her, she's gone so fast you're wondering if there was a dog there at all. She was a stray and apparently her former life wasn't a nice one. 

But there was something so short and cute and brown about her that I kept going back (low to the ground and slowly) and talking to her. And feeding her. 

She's actually starved for attention. I won her trust and had a new best friend. Give her half a chance and she's in my lap. She'd bury her whole head in my arms, my skirt, my shirt- whatever was handy. Just press herself right in. And then stay. This is the doggie I miss. What a Sweetie when you get to know her. This is the one I'd really like to bring home with me. Little Light Bulb! ;)

It was a month...

of good and special times.
Earlier this week, I came back north after a month in the south. A special month. I've been a lot of places the past 11 years, covered a lot of ground here. But it seemed like wherever I was, I usually ended up back in the South for a stretch. And- not being someone who really likes HOT weather all that well- huh. I really like it down there. A lot. There are a lot of special people down there. This time, though, the good-byes were just that. Good-Bye. sniff.

He's right between my 2 oldest nephews in age. I babysat him some when he was tiny. His parents are deaf. The joke was that this kid would learn Russian with a N Amer accent since it was what he heard most. No worries- he didn't! When he was 3, I hadn't seen him in awhile- months, as I recall. 'Lyosh, I said. Can I kiss you? It's a little early for that, he said. Some time later, a friend was at his house. His dad (or mom) signed a question to him. He answered. And then turned his head and said- I lied, haha, I lied. Forgetting he had a hearing audience for a change. heh. He's normal. But a sweet sweet little thing so far. I'll miss you Alyosha. You and your shy slow smile.

Nastia and me looking our best! haha N's mama always wanted another baby. Daddy wanted a new car. 20 years later Mama got her baby and Daddy did not get his car! She's a keeper. Daddy agrees, too. In fact, I caught him doing the ironing while Mama was taking care of Baby! ;)

Alyosha's baby brother. as seen previously here and here. He's a first class truck sound maker. heh.

 Some people get into your heart and stay there. Not because they do everything right but because. Because that's where they belong. Because of all the things that draw you out heart-first. I've known M since she was about 12. I wrote about her mother's fun'l here. Here she is with Baby Veronika, named for the grandma she'll never meet.

M's oldest dau, Nastia. She's a pistol. And a cutie. And Sat, Grandpa was home for the weekend and she was Queen of the May. She is Grandpa's Girl! And when Grandpa took me back to the bus stop on the back of his motorcycle, N went, too. She loves motorcycle rides! Sits up front prim and proper and holds perfectly still. And she even told me good-bye and waved- but not for long. She was in a hurry to get going again! N and her mommy a few years ago.

oh. oh yes. And there's Rikki. Rikki- even though you shed ALL Over the Place, you are one of my all-time favorite Cat People. I'm glad I know you, Rikki! 

I'm really looking forward to being back in the States (anybody actually not got that figured out yet??) BUT I'm going to miss those folks. 

smile!

I love peonies. I've posted pix about them before. I've been loving them down here this past month. Some people remember lots and lots of details from their childhood. They remember specifics. Lots of them. I remember some, too. I remember that Saturday night supper was usually (to me it seems like it was always but there must have been some variation) cornbread and pork-n-beans. I love cornbread and I love pork-n-beans to this day. Tonight I made cornbread and pork-n-beans. Added some spicy salsa to the beans to give them some zip. But it was just like home. Just like Saturday night supper. Yum. 

Anyway- back to the peonies. 

It's been great to watch the peonies pop open. The air along the path to the back fence is heavy with their scent. And here is a link to a pic on my rss feed tonight.. posted because I like the little factoid blurb under the pic. Enjoy! ;)

The botanical gardens post in which I documented seeing this flower that turned out to be a tree peony. 

I want to get pix of the dogs here. There are too many... but I've always loved dogs and these are such little sweethearts. Especially since they wiggle with joy when I go see them. How can you help but love something like that?! 

And there was this flower post the other day. What I meant to say there and forgot: One day, the acacia tree (top pic) bloomed while I was hanging out laundry. The lines are directly underneath the tree- not the greatest arrangement... think BIRDS. But this day- it was a treat- it literally burst into bloom from morning till evening and I watched and smelled it all day long- was great! And then the next day, the peonies on the other side of the path (right beside the laundry lines) did the same thing- I watched them pop open as I hung up the laundry. Now that's a smiler!!! 

For good people everywhere...

But especially for Marv and Minnie and Will and the rest of their family who are bringing up the babies in the good old fashioned chocolate milk way! Needed a little something at the end of the day...and remembered the Nesquik in the cookie box! :-)

Thai Chicken Curry

Someone had a Thai peanut seasoning pack that they sent out awhile ago. I found 500 ml of coconut milk in town and stretched the whole thing to feed 15. It actually turned out pretty well and since I’ve never done a curry dish before (except by relying completely on a seasoning pack), I wanted to write this up while it’s fresh on my mind.

I looked around at various Thai Chicken recipes which seemed to love ginger and garlic so I started by marinating 2 kg of bite-size chicken in about ½ cup oil, ½ cup milk, 3 cloves of finely grated garlic, a chopped onion, about a TBS of finely grated fresh ginger, TBS salt, TBS red pepper and a dab of Worcestershire sauce (since we had no soy sauce- would be ok without this). Cooked the meat in about 2 TBS very hot oil and added 300 g of peanuts (less would be ok) at the very end. Set aside.

Sauce: Sauteed another 4 or 5 cloves of garlic and (a lot of) finely ground fresh ginger in about 2 TBS very hot oil; added the seasoning pack (which was chili, lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves and onion), liberal amount of basil, liberal amount of red curry powder, coconut milk. To bring the liquid up to what I’d need for 15 people, I added milk and water- about 2 to 1 milk to water. Was aiming for enough liquid to use as sauce over rice. Heated it up well but did not bring to a boil. Poured over the meat. Served over rice with stir fried peppers, onions, carrots. This is mostly for my own purposes… wanted a record of it.

ants

Made a big batch of granola last week. Let it cool and then snapped the lids on, left them on the cabinet top and went off to bed. The next am, chatting to someone by the cabinet and idly glance over at the window... eyes stray to the granola.
...WHOA...
A whole battalion of ants. I mean- the advance guard and scouts have returned and brought in the troops and they're moving out the goods. No joke. Heaps and swarms of tiny black ants.
Now- honey is expensive, nuts are expensive, wheat germ can be next to impossible to find, brown sugar is hauled over from North America.
Are you getting this? This granola is just not on the list to toss without a really REALLY REALLY good reason. I made very quick work of the hordes outside the container that was being raided. Moved the box and made a RAID of my own. Then scooped off the top inch or so of granola.
And then picked individual ants for quite awhile.
A Very Nice Lady walks by. Do I want to know what you're doing? She asks.
I pause and consider (thoughts in head at time: NiceLadyIsFromAmericaProbablyHasReallyNiceVeryCleanHouseWithNaryAMouseNeverAnAntAlwaysHasVeryCleanFoodAndHands)- No I say.
She grins and walks on.
I discovered that if you put the container of granola on a light colored surface and walk away the ants surface on their own. Then you come back every 5 min (at first) and clean up black bodies. And then at 10 min intervals. And then less and less frequently over the next 3 or 4 hours.
And Very Nice Lady was spotted a few times picking ants and unceremoniously and very heartlessly killing them.
And Very Nice Lady had granola for breakfast Sun am. She asked for it. And she fed it to her husband. And her cousin. And his wife.
And I'm eating it, too.
And we haven't seen it move for days.
;)

ps- How would you feel if you were the Ant Commander and had sent out your best battalion on a raid only to have them all wiped out? Half the hill- GONE. How Sad.

Smile!

Awhile ago now, I came down to the far south to help feed and do laundry for a work crew. The laundry part- :). The cook part- well that's ok but a bit more nerve wracking. 

 

Spring was late here and cold so the flowers are a bit behind…which is ok with me. The lady who lives here is an agronomist and loves flowers. She’s had more time this spring to work with her own flowers and gardens, so the place is looking quite nice.

 

Here’s what it looked like tonight! ;)

 

Honey!

We stopped on the way back into town the other day to talk to a bee-keeper. A whole slew of wagons on the edge of a field with a small shack nearby (like a ‘sugar shack’ only with a centrifuge and other honey paraphernalia) and a roadside display. The guy was quite friendly and happy to sell a small jar of honey still in the honey comb. On our way back out to the road, he informed us the display is nothing more than water because people steal those jars… I’ll have to remember that if I ever get the urge to pick it up on the cheap… ;)

Poofy

Once there was a small black and white dog, beloved of all… extra beloved, in fact. She originally belonged to the youngest child, a darling smiling blonde girl-child—since grown up and moved ‘way up north where she’s going to university. The dog, Poofy, has had umpteen litters of pups (don’t ask me what’s happened to them) and seems to be pg again. She’s also developed a cough… like a goose. She sounds like a honking goose. Since consultation with a vet pal in Australia, she’s been on 20mg of prednisolone a day- nothing fancy but no dog on this property has ever gotten daily steroids before! The cough is some better- she only honks about half as often…and now sometimes sounds like a child’s squeak-toy being stepped on! So- Poofy gets a spoonful of butter or lard or some such goody J every day with her magic meds hidden inside. And Poofy has led the kind of life that leads her to quickly swallow- without ever questioning what she’s swallowing- in one gulp AFAP (as fast as possible), wagging her tail and quickly looking up for more. She’s not young anymore- has grey hair possibly the start of a cataract. She gets excited and starts to hack and squeak and carry on… so part of the daily routine is to sit with her and comfort her. Help her calm down and breathe you know.

It’s a tough life, I’ll tell you.

pic catch up

downpour from the inside... 

then there was hail

there's a cat here. Here he is a year ago! :)

someone made bread!

a flock of pelicans flew overhead

the guys removed an old cane roof

Cat's bro

best friends, brothers and Oh So Sweet. Loved by all... at least by the women-type

шашлик or shish kebab. Really- a smashingly-yummy success. Marinaded in: Mayo, wine, lemon juice, onions, salt and pepper. (lots of salt)

super yummy cheesecake!

oooo- babies! Sons and daughter of the 2 dogs in this post. Momma is a bit inexperienced and flighty and it will be a miracle if the babies all survive.

Still- Pretty sweet, eh? ;)

More bread :)

bread and crepes!

the smell of baked beans!

Ah yes- it's a good place to be! :)