Walkin' the dog... down and back... kind of like a yoyo trick.

When we say, "Do the dogs want to go for a walk with us?", we better we darn sure that we are ready to go, because they know what this means.
We harness and leash them. Then off we go.

 They're are so conditioned. First they stick together, looking up the hill and watching for the deer... a little trepidation about the huge outdoors beyond the garden gate.

They start to pick up smells... deer poop, bird feathers, coyote scat, fox fur, turkey, rodents underground, snakes and so many other critters that only they can picked up with their amazing olfactory senses.

And then, they both have to leave their own mark... and so on we continued, down the road.

 This a ritual that they love. I haven't been taking them with me because they pull hard at the beginning of the downhill walk. Since the foot operation, I haven't been able to move at their speed. So, when the Prospector said... you know... those words that the Corgi boys understand... we all went together and the dogs thought they were in DOG HEAVEN. They consider this a great adventure.

The Poison Oak is in its end of the summer doldrums like everything else around here. But, it's pretty when it changes color and the leaves start to fall.

I'm fascinated by this hardy, invasive plant that looms everywhere around here, climbing into the oak trees and spreading into every nook and cranny that it finds. It is a force to be reckoned with. It's just like the rattlesnakes and insects that have a built in survival instinct. It's beautiful but powerful, like so many things in the woods. I have a healthy respect for this plant. It has "bitten" me before.

We continued past the clinging poison oak and walked down to the switch back. We decided to turn around because it was getting darker.
 The dogs found the gopher condos on the side of the road.

They went nose to ground... and sniffed deeply into each hole.  I'm sure that the snakes use these tunnels too, so I always worry about the dogs noses. We moved on.
 The sun was setting making huge thunderheads pink in the distance, as the rain clouds slow moved to the east and disappeared. No more rain for a while...

It wasn't a long walk. Just enough for us to stretch our legs and to let the dogs make their joyful noise.

When we returned to the yard, they wanted to run around the garden for a while. This is their domain, their "familiar".
Cutter was tired. He sat on the steps with the Prospector and waited...

... for the front door to magically open.  He was still hearing animal sounds in the hills. These are fearful sounds to Cutter. His bravery was gone.

He was ready to lay down in the safety of his house. "Can we go inside please?"

Carl, on the other hand, wasn't finished with "outside". He thought he was at first, but then...

He went to chase a lizard who had to audacity to run across the rocks within the corner of Carl's peripheral vision. He didn't catch it and within a few minutes he was back.

"I'm really ready now." and he was.

We all went into the house. The Prospector to read a little, the dogs to rest and dream of their great adventure and myself to spend some time at the computer ( way too much time...). 

It was a good walk. The dogs were happy. 

We stretched our legs and we will sleep better for it.

Outside... it was dark now. 

What a difference a few minutes makes.

We were safe inside our home.

Life is good.

Easter Morning

"Twas Easter-Sunday. The full-blossomed trees
Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy."

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~

The hunt began...

There was no getting dressed first, even though it was 7:00 a.m. and quite cold outside. 

The sun was just coming up. The eggs were hidden everywhere.

 The excitement was palpable.

 

The Bean... the wild man with wild hair.

 We even got an email from the Easter Bunny.

 Amazing technology!

 There was no doubt that Easter had arrived.

Later, after Breakfast, they settled in for some quiet time.

I even got Little Bean to pose for a formal portrait.

And The Bean settled into a Lego induced relaxation mode.

I took the boys outside for a while to give mommy, daddy and Papa a rest.  

We went out back and decorated the concrete with chalk.

 When Noni asked them if they wanted to go for a hike, they took a few seconds to decide...

(Oh, that hair.)

And then...

Off they ran, up the road, leaving Noni to catch up.

"Hey! Wait for me." I called out... and they did.

We went to the Manzanita grove on the next knoll beyond the old orchard.

 Where the fox live in dens around the trunks of trees.

It's were the wild things live. 

This is a magical place. 

 We learned about poison oak and what it looked like.

How a plant can be so small that you will step on it and not notice... or it can grow into the oak trees, become like a huge vine and makes the oak tree unclimbable.

 They learned that it is beautiful, has three leaves and the new leaves are shiny and tinged with red.

By the time we left, the Beans were able to tell me what poison oak looks like and could show it to me.

Yea, Beans!!

We talked about wild things and where they go when we humans arrive. How they are watching us and keep their distance until we leave. 

We collected special rocks and "cool" things. 

As we walked back down to the house, Little Bean spotted some holes in the hillside. He said that this was were the Rattlesnakes sleep until Summertime. 

Another good lesson learned.

They all left after lunch. 

The dogs, Papa and Noni took a long nap. 

We miss you, Beans. 

We love you all.

Come back soon.

This is all I have to say...

Getting Poison Oak is sort of like a tick bite: You don't notice until it starts itching and swelling. This is hard for me to write about. I have a personal history with this plant, so I feel I owe some folks , that don't know about P.O., a fair warning. Take a good look at the second photo below. This is P.O.'s finest hour( or month, or season). Here in California we have the oak version. In the east, I believe it's poison ivy or poison sumac. What's in a name, anyway...., it's all nasty stuff.

There's a story, on my husbands side of the family, about friends who came to visit my husband's grandmother. She lived on a ranch in Mariposa, Ca. when she was a child . Now, if you know anything about the Sierra Foothills, you know that what survived after the Gold Rush wasn't the miners. The miners didn't leave because the gold ran out. History has it all wrong. The real reason they left was the rattlesnakes and ( yes, you guessed it ) poison oak. Anyway, his grandma's family had friends visit from the "City". They loved being in the country and decided to take a walk. Later, they arrive back at the ranch with a lovely bouquet of wildflowers and ( you guessed it, again) poison oak. Needless to say, they all came down with horrible rashes and they didn't come up to visit again.

My personal history dates back to childhood summers in the Napa valley, where my parent's families lived. I grew up in one of the first housing tracks in the Pleasant Hill- Walnut Creek area of California . We had lots of walnut trees and mustard grass and sometimes a wayward possum or raccoon, but at my grandma's house up on Atlas Peak, in Napa, there were rocks, rattlesnakes and scorpions the color of dirt... and ( that's right) poison oak all over the place. I loved my grandma's place. It was the complete opposite of where I lived with my parents. This dusty wonderful realm was my retreat from the perfection of my regular childhood. Summer's up there were free and wild. The dogs and I (and sometimes grandma when she was feeling good) would hike all over the property and down to the creek where I could pretend I was Princess of the hills. It was a magic place that still lives in my memories. I couldn't wait for Mom, Dad and Sis to come and get me, though, and I'd be so glad to see them. I loved coming home to a clean house and good food, and friends..., and my family. Then, when I was home for less than a week, I would start itching. How I got this stuff practically every year of my young life was a mystery. Grandma always showed me what it looked like and how to avoid it like the plague, but every summer I would come home and break out with a case of P.O..... just before school started. I can still smell the calamine lotion. It was always my number one fashion accessory during the first weeks of school. So, my long history with P.O. makes me an expert and I always like to warn people when they visit us...before they pick a bouquet for our dinner table. Looking back, I think it was the grandma's dogs. I played with them all the time. They would run all over the place and surely through the P.O. bushes, as dogs will do.

After Marrying the Prospector, I was always trying to prove I could be the outdoor partner that he love. So, P.O. became a part of my life. I have ended up in the hospital because of reactions to this plant. Prednisone is on my list of favorite drugs for fast results. You would think I'd learn my lesson: But do you know where some of the best gold is? In the tree roots next to streams and rivers. ...; and can you tell the difference between any old tree root and a P.O. tree root?...., No!
Such is life.

Still.... take a good long look at the photo below. Avoid this plant at all cost. Next time we discuss Rattlesnakes.