We Labored for Larbor Day

For Dave's birthday I got myself a gas fire table. (I got him the Uof O letterman's jacket I earned and he coveted.) I have really wanted a fire table for years but they are expensive and not really something on Dave's capital budget (or want) list. Recently, I actually gathered the materials and have been planning how to make a funky one out of re-claimed redwood from the old yacht club docks. A trip to the high end patio furniture summer sale relieved me of the construction task (disaster). Though it is a bit fancy for our place, the price was right.
I did almost catch my hair on fire the first time I lit the fire table. The ignition switch is now up wind of the prevailing evening winds. Thursday, I made a "do before winter" list of chores to get done. We spent the weekend checking off items on the list and now we are exhausted.
Some of the things we accomplished: my dog rig now has breaks that work and a basket; we dug a 12" deep x 300' long ditch to hopefully decrease the standing water in the garden (Dave with backhoe -me with shovel); about 1/4 mile of our drive has been weed-eated by Dave; the tractor runs again; I canned 60 lbs of peaches (yum!) and picked 2 gallons of blueberries; the dogs got pedicures; the entire lawn is mowed; the sprinkler system for the gardens is almost working; we even threw in a trip to Costco and the local True Value. The to-do list is still long but some of the biggies are now behind us - and I have breaks!
Drinking a glass of fine wine while sitting by my new fire table was the prefect way to relax after three days of hard work.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to the most wonderful husband in the world.

Green Beans

While I love the idea that I am somewhat self sufficient and that I am providing delicious and nutritious food, I wonder if green beans pencil out.

Plant the beans. Grow the beans.

Get the pressure cooker and other canning supplies from the attic. Sterilize jars. Pick the beans. Wash the beans. Snap ends of each bean. Cut beans into 1" lengths. Fill caner with water, boil and cook beans for 5 minutes. Put jars in boiling water bath. Drain beans. Pack beans into hot jar. Cover with boiling water. Put on two part lid. Put into pressure cooker. Add boiling water. Vent for 10 minutes. Add weight. Cook with weight rocking for 20 minutes. Wash, snap and cut next batch of beans. Let pressure cooker depressurize. Put jars out to cool. Fill more jars and start second batch. Read paper while second batch is rocking away. Special in grocery ad: Green Beans 3 can/$1.

Clean up mess. Take stuff back to attic.

All this before 3 p.m. so no wine to make the process more entertaining.

Critter Taxi

When I entered the garden today, I heard a new-to-me bird call - "pur-chirp" - in my berry patch. I thought a wayward bird brought in by our strange summer weather was feasting on my blueberries. I was excited to see it and pissed at the same time.

I now know what a raccoon sounds like when it is not hissing and growling.

Around here raccoons wreck vegetative havoc on par with a herd of deer. Perhaps more. They can raid the garden. Raccoons have an uncanny knack of knowing exactly when fruit is ripe. They wait until the night before my planned harvest to feast leaving me only colorful, pit filled poop. They can strip a fruit tree before the sun rises.

This girl was really pissed watching me pick the blueberries she had her eyes on. She actually bent the bars on the trap. Hopefully a noisy, bouncing ride in my quad trailer, aka Critter Taxi, was enough to dissuade her from ever again coming to the garden side of the ridge.
Calliope Hine Up-Date:

Calliope lives in New England and experienced her first hurricane. Her grandmother sent me this post:
"We just spent two days with a droopy dog, two kids and three grown-ups with no running water and no power...Nonna"
I think Nonna and Gwyn have topped me. I can't imagine caring for a new born during and post hurricane. I will never again whine about a litter of puppies with no power and water.

Dad

Yesterday was a day of agonizing misery. I had about 20 hours of migraines, complete with repeated auras, nausea, unequaled pain... I could not get on top of them. My wonderful Chinooks knew I did not feel good. They would not leave my side even with the doors open and the ability to roam as far as they wanted. They did not bug me - just stayed near. My plans had been to visit my dad but I hid in the dark.
Today I felt well enough to don dark sunglasses and drive to Salem. It has been far too long since I have spent time with dad and Iris. Only McKenzie went with me. She is so mellow and Iris really loves to sit by and pet her. Calm as they are, I was afraid three big dogs might overwhelm and possibly trip Dad or Iris. They are in their 90's after all.
I learned more about dad's childhood. He never really talked about it with us while we were growing up. He told a great story about when he and his brother Hector got into trouble at his grandfather's farm. A cousin had told them about the "wild" chickens that roost in the trees. Wanting some money, that night after a day of plowing the field behind the horses, they rigged a snare on a pole and caught some chickens. The next day they sold them to the store keeper only to end up paying his grandfather back for the chickens and having to plow a few more acres.

Stranded

Every Thursday my niece writes "Awkward Thursday" on her blog about awkward events from the previous week. This week I am joining her. After missing several weeks, I finally was able to flee to the lake for Wednesday night dingy racing. Heading out to the race course I realized I did not have any kind of wind indicator on my Laser and the wind was variable direction, 1K to zero speed. It was 92 degrees out and I really wanted to be on the water and make the most of racing so I drifted back to the dock and headed to our trailer to get a piece of mylar cassette tape for the boom. The door was locked! The keys were inside along with my purse, car keys and cell phone.
The door on our trailer has not locked for about 10 years. Heck, it hasn't even completely closed for about 5. But after paying different pros to fix it over the years, Dave and I took it apart this spring and totally rebuilt it. Our coercing into shape, adding braces and hammering of the door must have somehow jolted the lock mechanism. AARG!
I went to the yacht club caretaker to see if she had a key. She did not have mine (we haven't needed one for a door that did not even close) but we grabbed keys from the other trailers to see if one might just work. Nope. I then called Dave from the caretakers trailer. He was teaching a Ski Patrol Outdoor Emergency Care (EMT) course to patrol candidates and really could not get away. The drive from the classroom to our house to get keys then out to the lake is about 2 hours anyway.
Plan B. The caretaker and I took her truck to a trailer junkyard to see if they had a master key. (I owe her big time). No master key but we gathered all the keys they had accumulated over several years and headed back to the lake. I tried every key. While many fit, none opened the door. Usually I can get myself out of whatever situation I find myself in but I was stranded. I called Dave again. He had found a replacement and was on his way home.
It was getting dark by now with lightening and threatening rain. Everyone had gone home. I was still wet from rigging my boat. My dollar hamburger dinner was in the locked trailer. On the bright side, I had a warm Mike's lemonade from my non-sail and it was still in the high 70's.
Dave showed up as I was searching a comfortable place, out of the rain, to hang out. He had not found his set of trailer keys (they were locked in the trailer) but he had grabbed our motorhome keys along with my car keys. The motorhome key worked! I gave him a kiss; put on dry clothes; threw my lifejacket into the trailer; grabbed my horrible tasting dinner and purse and headed home as it started to pour. I got here in time to catch the nightly news.
When we got home, Dave told me his Plan B: call the county Chief Sheriff. He lives near the lake and surely has ways of getting through locked doors other than breaking them down - doesn't he?

Welcome Calliope Hine

Gwyneth was in my Camp Fire group and her mother was my co-leader. Her mother sent me this message about the birth of Gwyn's second child:

"Calliope Hine made her appearance in the shower at her home on Wednesday, her due date. We were just thinking of getting Gwyneth to the hospital, in a leisurely manner, and while we were sorting out dogs and toddlers, Gwyneth shouted for help to wrap a baby!! The emergency services were called, and arrived within minutes, and we had five or six people wandering around with emergency packs, plus an ambulance outside the house. The dog (huge Great Dane) loved the big guys with uniforms, and the toddler (big brother Luther) was impressed, too. Ted (husband) headed for the hospital with Gwyn, a nice neighbour took Luther to have supper with her family, and I mopped up. Gwyn and baby are home now, and baby was declared vigorous at her post-hospital check-up. The story had preceded us to the clinic, and we were asked ' Is this the Hine baby?'. Muse of epic poetry seems a suitable name choice!"
KLB note: Gwyn herself had an amusing birth on Halloween. Her mother was at a party, dressed as a pregnant witch when her water broke. She was rushed to the delivery room still wearing her black gown and tall pointed hat.