The Bracelet Maker

Yesterday I had to go to South Sacramento Kaiser and Costco. When I was through I stopped by to see the Bambinos. Baby boy was asleep because he's just 1 yr. 6mos old and he is into naps. Big boy, the "A" man was so excited to see me and sometimes he skips a nap because he has other things to do...., like show Noni his new bike; his DIEGO bike,... and his new helmet; his GREEN helmet...., and his new hair cut( that makes him look a lot older. No, no you can't grow up too fast little one.)

Mommy took them to Pixey Woods in Lodi. They "Rode in a train and saw a tunnel." and they had "...so much fun." and " Noni you should come too; you would like it."

" Can we go outside. I will ride my new bike.

It has 'taining wheels."

"Is that so you can learn to ride without falling?"

"I won't fall, Noni. I a big boy."

"Of course you are, sweetie. Just be careful."

"I be careful"

"Can you put your helmet on so I can take your picture?"

"Ok."

"Smile"



Baby bambino woke up and then it was snack time. After we had a snack "A" showed me how to make a bracelet like Mommy's. He had made one for her and wanted to know if I would like one. He wanted mom to give me her's. We explained that he needed to make one just for me. So he did.
This is the bracelet that "A" made just for his Noni. He had a kit with lots of beads and stretchy plastic string.

"What colors would you like, Noni?"

"Anything but orange."

"No orange?"

"Not today."

Just one orange?"

"No, I don't think so. Maybe in the Fall, around Halloween."

" Here. One orange ." He picks one orange bead up and looks at me.

"Ok, just one."

So I have a wonderful ,one of a kind, bracelet made by my grandson, and I love it. There is one bead in it that reminds me of Halloween and in my grandson's infinite wisdom, he has placed this orange bead among the others to express his own creativity and to remind me that I must not look at the world with old eyes and that I can wear orange in summer and live to tell about it.

Garden Speak

The garden is doing rather well this year. Maybe it is the chicken manure and the mulch. The gourds(below) are always so beautiful. I think they're one of the easiest plants to grow. Something is nibbling at the new growth though. I think I'll try some reflective tape first because I think the culprits are birds and they don't like shiny ribbon flaping in they faces. It has worked before. I'm willing to share a leaf or two with them, but they have been known to get carried away. So I will decorate the wire fencing with ribbon, then maybe some whirl-i-gigs or noisy wind things. That last one I made up, but they would be something that would let the wind blow through and make noise..., you know, something like a whistle? I have to look around for this one. The whole effect should really frighten the birds away. I hope. "Hope is a thing with feathers...", but not in my garden.

This is the shot I didn't want to show anyone but I'm thinking that someone might have an idea about what is eating ( I mean DEVOURING) my Sunflowers. I can't find any bugs. If it was a gopher the whole plant would be gone. Again, I'm thinking it might be birds, but look at the way something has chewed the stems and even though the plants keeps putting off new growth, the leaves below are being eating to pieces. Does anyone have any ideas?

Wordless Wednesday: Freckles, the lovely.

Baby birds for a friend

My friend Karen needs more prayers.


















Even though she hangs in there with all the tests and hospital visits, each day is a struggle.























On Thursday she goes in for a kidney biopsy and an ultrasound.


















Please keep her in your prayers. She is trying to be brave, but it's hard.

The baby birds are for you, Karen. I hope you can smile at them, because they are saying hello to you.

Always an open door..., with dogs.

This is my sister's home...., isn't it beautiful?

She has a gift for decorating and there are always delightful places, here and there, that reflect her talents. Then, of course, there are the dogs. They greet you at the door as if you were the only person in the world. The cacophony of barks, yips, small growls and kisses always makes me feel like I'm at home. This is a relaxed "chicken in your lap" kind of home, only without the chickens. Someday, though, I might find a couple of goats in the backyard. Oh no, wait! This is Lafayette, California. They don't allow goats here. But...., you never know.

I stay with Mom when I go down to see her. There is always lots to do and I feel like there won't be a lot more time to just be with her. (I would love to stay with my sister; but she's close by and we always get together while I'm there.)
I woke up to blue sky this morning. The wind has finally come and blown the smoke away for a while. There are still many fires burning all over California and many people have lost their homes. It's very sad. We have been lucky so far, but you're never safe. Fire is the "beast" here and always a threat.

Mom is doing well and I got to spend some time with her, talking about her childhood. I wrote down a lot of information; some that I had not known before. She was born in Berkeley , Ca. in 1918. When she was 5 yrs old her father died, so her mother took she and her brother and sister up to Napa, where her mom was raised. She lived in Napa until she married my dad. They live on her grandpa and grandma's ranch. Lots of great stories. Must write all this down. It's important. It's a connection to the past, but it's also a gift to your children; especially the stories.

I drove home this afternoon. The valley was clear and blue with a few whispy clouds and so were the foothills. The prospector and the dogs were here to greet me and the goats seem happy too. It feels so wonderful to be home. As I hear the "youngsters" say: It's all good.

Sunrise and Smoke

This was the sunrise yesterday. It makes for an interesting photo but not when you live in it. I'm leaving for the weekend. I'm going to the Bay Area to see my mother. Hopefully the smoke will not be so thick there. I'll be back on Monday.

Worth remembering

I said that I wouldn't make a big thing of my dad's passing, one year ago today, but I have altered my thinking about this just a bit.

My youngest son gave me a poem about the day we spread Dad's ashes in San Francisco Bay and I thought that I would honor him today with his grandson's poem.



THE SPREADING
As we wait on a wall of sea breeze,
pelicans fly in formation above the water,
and mother remembers that, when in Aptos,
they called these pelicans The Mafia.


All the while, families wait with guarded cargo,
wait, squinting through the blanched acrylic windows.
at the bridge that paints a ruddy-orange matrix,
stroked against the grey morning sky, and

carnations in hand to shed as stirring crops,
we shore up our own exact, tender words
-flowers with which the barren is faced-
as we wait on a wall of sea breeze,

to release his "request" into the water;
a fixture of colors in the many-eyed sea,
like trillions of glimmering peacock feathers.
A bodily belonging on the slopes of the bay.

Wordless Wednesday; Porch frog

Alpacas and Lunch on the Cosumnes

This is what not working and being retired is all about. I shouldn't say this too loud or too often because I have good friends that are still working and I don't want comments that I might have to take the swear words out of before I post them. But...., this spur of the moment , "Lets take a drive and eat lunch somewhere." kind of day is what we all look forward to in our retired years. I recommend doing this on the weekends, now and then, while your working so the fun of it all doesn't send you into a "Who needs this job?" mode. That might be a mistake, because there is "Work" and there's "work". Some of this "work" can look like fun ( Ok, it was fun.), but it's fun with a purpose.
Which brings me to: Looking for guard animals and checking out gold claims.
We are having an area below the house and garden fenced in a couple of weeks. The goats will have more room to roam and will keep the grass down for us, which is a big deal here in fire season. California is on fire right now. I'm sure you've heard. It's so scary to imagine this beautiful place going up in smoke but I only have to turn on the news to understand that it can happen anytime, anywhere. I see the burnt homes and the folks looking at their ruins. It's so sad. So, we are widening our defensible space every year.

As with every solution, there always seems to be another problem. Now we have these 4 sweet goats that have become "pets" as well as weedeaters, and because we have coyotes and mountain lions in the area, we need to protect these new members of our farm family. So, we are building a predator-proof shelter for them and looking for a guard animal to let us know when there's trouble out there. Yesterday we got up really early to water. Watering in the summer, here, is a big, big deal. After we finished our chores we decided to take a drive to the Alpaca farm in Fairplay and then go check out a claim on the Cosumnes River.
First we drove through Plymouth and the Shenandoah Valley. This is the "new" wine country in Northern California. It's was beautiful but very smoky from all the fires. Then we went north on hiway 16 and east to Fairplay to see the alpacas. We were greated by Paige Romine who owns the Alpaca farm and she gave us a tour of her place. It was lots of fun. Alpacas are sweet, quiet and a bit leery of strangers. They had all been sheared ( which you have to do once a year). The babies were charming. Paige had a small store and I bought a knit cap for winter. Seemed odd to buy an alpaca wool hat on a 100 degree day, but it was so cute and I'll use it when it gets cold, sometime around November.
We said thank you and goodby. We will keep looking for a guard animal. I think what we really want is a donkey or two.
Then we drove down to the Cosumnes River , going east on Slug Gulch Rd. (Can you believe that name? Delightful!) The claim was too inaccessable, without the truck, so we found a camping spot near a bridge and ate lunch. It was beautiful and I found some great rocks to bring home. We'll come back in the truck to find the claim. It looks like a good "gold" area.

These butterflies must have been mating. I can't find them in my NAS field guide. There were lovely and very docile, as you can see. I'm going to start calling myself the "butterfly whisperer". What a kick it is to reach down and have one climb onto your finger. It stayed until I put it back down on the rock. I did find the small blue one in the guide. Its a Spring Azure, or common blue. It's beautiful name is Celastrina Argiolus. ( I love these latin names.) It's a gossamer-winged butterfly. I was lucky to get this one, still shot with my camera because these littles guys never stopped moving.

Must go. Need to close up the house. The smoke is getting awful. It will be 100 degrees today. The valley is filled with smoke and visibilty is not good. Oh Winter, where art thou?

One Star Fell and Another..., By Conrad Aiken

One star fell and another as we walked.
Lifting his hand towards the west, he said----
How prodigal that sky is of its stars!
They fall and fall, and still the sky is sky.
Two more have gone,
but heaven is heaven still.

Then let us not be precious of our thought,
Nor of our words,
nor hoard them up as though
We thought our minds a heaven which might change
And lose its virtue,
when the word had fallen.
Let us be prodigal, as heaven is:
Lose what we lose,
and give what we may give,
--Ourselves are still the same.
Lost you a planet--?Is Saturn gone
Then let him take his rings
Into the Limbo of forgotten things.

O little foplings of the pride of mind,
Who wrap the phrase in lavender,and keep it
In order to display it: and you, who save our loves
As if we had not worlds of love enough--!

Let us be reckless of our words and worlds,
And spend them freely as the tree his leaves;
And give them where the giving is most blest.
What should we save them for,--a night of frost?
. . .All lost for nothing, and ourselves a ghost.

A poem by Conrad Aikens

Bird of a Feather

This is a tribute to someone I admire. Her name was Tasha. She was an artist, illustrator, gardener, collector, lover of animals and children. She was independent and believed that when she died she would be reborn in the 1830's. I hope so because she died yesterday.
She was 92 years old.

A dear friend of mine who lives in Montana gave me a book a few years back.: The Private World of Tasha Tudor. My friend believed in the philosophy and the way of life that Tasha Tudor represented. Independence was a main factor; but her dedication to animals and plants, her "old school" living, and a simpler way of life were a large portion in her affinity to this determined spirit.
I hope you read this, Donna, because I see you in this woman. Proud, determined, independent and living a life of choice , in a place made of your own intent and purpose.



We will all leave this world sooner or later. I hope that we do this with the dignity that says, ".... I''m not even afraid of dying. I think it must be quite exciting."

I knew that Tasha Tudor was a very special lady when I read some of the books that she illustrated. Then I found out that she loved gathering eggs and that she owned goats...., Nubian goats. It was then that I was sure that this was a fine person .
I would liked to have met her and ,maybe, have some tea . We would have talked about all the beautiful things in this world and how wonderful it is to find a warm egg under a chicken and talk to a goat. Maybe my friend, Donna could have joined us. What a grand time that would have been.



She believed the world was a beautiful place and even though we didn't know each other,
I will miss her.









( Credit to Richard Brown of the Associated Press for photos ; Douglas Martin of the International Herald Tribune for the obituary and tashatudor.legacy.com )

Lavender Buzz on a Warm Summer Evening.

Sometimes you see something so beautiful that you stand in wonder staring at the ability of nature to continuiously outdo itself.

As I finished my walk and came back up to the house last night, I stopped to look at the lavender planted a few years ago in the parking area. There were 5 or 6 big black bumble bees flying around , doing their "bee" thing and moving from one flower to another. Their legs were covered with pollen. Their fuzzy blackness with this bright orange pollen was so striking against the blue lavender that I had to try and take a few photos with my trusty camera (Canon PowerShot) which I carry with me, everywhere. I never leave the house, for a walk ,without a walking stick, my camera and bug spray all over me. It standard issue for hikes or walks around here.The light was beautiful. The sun was gone from our side of the mountain and was making it's last stand on the hills to the east. When this happens the hills produce this amazing ambient lighting that gives everything around it a warm, clear color. A lady I knew once, in a photo club I belonged to, said that the best time to take pictures is early morning and late evening She was right. Middle of the day sunlight tend to take color and defused it so it's not as distinct and true. I don't understand why this happens but mornings and evenings are the best photo shoots. The bees were moving faster than my camera could shoot and none of the pictures were any good. I need a better camera.

While I was making my futile attempt to photograph bees in motion I spotted this bright yellow beauty flying from one flower to another and the contrast was even more striking that with the black bumblebees. This bee was a loner. No others like it were flying around. I must have taken 20 or 30 shots of it, following it in and out of the lavender bush. Bumblebees don't seem to mind my upclose and personal camera and I have never gotton stung. So I dogged this bee and out of all those shots only four were sharp enough to use. The last one was the best.
This is a Golden Northern Bumble Bee: Probably a female because of more yellow color on her abdominal segments and her thorax. I sound like I know what I'm talking about, don't I? Good old National Audubon Society field guides. I couldn't survive without them. Another great set of books for "information junkies".

Some day I'll have a camera that will catch these little dudes in mid air. Untill then , I will continue to take lots of photos hoping that one or two will be really good. One thing that's great about a digital camera is : Delete..., delete..., delete. The other is Picasa2, my photo storage and "photo fix" program. I love it .

By the way: On my walk, I went down the road to the switchback and the Rattlesnake has taken his business elsewhere. He's gone. This doesn't mean another one won't arrive (or that he won't be back) but for now he (or she) has decided not to tempt his fate. Good choice, rattletail!

Immortalizing Murphy

Murphy has been honored with his own art work. Terry from 'Songs from the Garden" has created a collage of felt and fabric that was inspired by my story of Murphy dancing during the cycle of the full moon on June 16. Go to her site (terrybusse.blogspot.com) and at the bottom right side of the page click on Murphy's Midnight Dance. You will love what she does. Her art work will be in a children's art show at the Davis Art Center, here in Northern Ca. in August. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. Thank you, Terry.













Brownie?

How did you get your face in this post? This is all about Murphy today.
We know you're cute. Now scoot.

I will be going out this evening to tell Murphy about the wonderful results of his mysterious behavior story. I'm sure he will be very pleased. We may not be able to live with him for a while...., but maybe he'll do a dance for us.

Wordless Wednesday: Down by the River

"Let sleeping dogs lie"

To lie: to be in, stay at rest in, or assume a horizontal position. Does this definition fit these photos of Moke and Maggie. Oh yes! Can a dog show you how to relax and be at one with the rug. Oh yes. They are masters of relaxation and possessors of of peaceful passivity.

They like the extra bedroom because it's quiet and , except for me, no one goes in there much unless we have visitors. My computer and desk are in this room. I spend way too much time here writing, blogging and ( information "junky" that I am) using the internet. This is , most of the time, a very peaceful place for them to take a nap and since they are both getting so old, they take lots of naps. I understand this.
Just look at Moke, though. The over head fan is on and he doesn't like the air on his face( I'm guessing), so there he is with his head under the bed. How do I know he's not dead? Because he rivals the Prospector for loud snoring and if you could hear the audio for this photo you would know he's still got a lot of life left. If there is a noise of any kind he will be up and out of here, like a shot. We laugh and say that Moke will go to his maker in mid-air. He has a cruising speed that's astounding. He can cover the whole hillside in record time, stopping only for a long sniff in his favorite holes. His back legs are getting weaker and he can't jump up onto our bed in the morning anymore to snuggle with us. But he's still a mover and a shaker outside and loves to flush anything out of anywhere. I wrote a post about how we found Moke in the mountains. Please go back and read it. His life with us was meant to be. He knows it and we are forever grateful that we found him.

Maggie, on the other hand, can be so still, for so long, that I have to go touch her once in a while to be sure she is just sleeping. When she was a puppy we lived up in a town called Volcano, Ca. The Prospector brought her home in his work truck one day and that puppy jumped out , ran into the house and immediately organized our other two dogs into a posse. She would take them on adventures around the hillsides and leave them in the dust. She'd be back first. Then our black lab would come lopeing in and finally our old dachshund would short-leg his way into the yard and sleep the rest of the day. Maggie was a wild thing. Now, she is old and has arthritis. She doesn't move very fast anymore. She's become a wonderful old ,dog friend that just wants her breakfast, dinner, dog treats and a place to lay in the garden; and , of course, a soft place next to our bed at night.

We will always have a dog. They teach you unconditional love and patience. They are smart; each having they own skills and talents. They warn you when there is danger and bark, sometimes, for no reason at all. They can be stubborn and get into trouble that astounds the imagination. When you are ready to lock them in the garage because they have been so "bad"; chewing up a borrowed book or digging up your prize plants in the garden just to get a gopher, they give you "the look". You know what I mean if you have dogs. It's almost a smile but with a sad, "I didn't mean to do this" look. The tail is down low and wagging slightly. Their whole demeanor is sorry that they have made you unhappy....., and then they forget. A cat would walk away, tail in the air, with a "darn, I got caught" attitude. I've had cats and I loved them all but dogs are where my heart lies.

I will always have a dog!

Murphy and the mysterious rite of passage.

"And (he) danced by the light of the moon"

Murphy is up to something. He's been practicing in the evenings just before dark. A few nights ago I went out , with my camera, and caught him trying to jump up on his sleeping quarters. He always goes between the container and the fence because he can get better traction with the wire fence behind him. I don't think he's trying to escape, because he jumps as high as he can and them he prances on his back legs. He doesn't try to climb the fence or go over it.







I just realized that these two photos are not Murphy. What the heck? I can't even keep four goats straight. Murphy was doing all this too but guess who got in there and joined the dance practice. Yep! It's Brownie. My little show off. It was getting so dark that I thought I...., I don't know what I was doing. I should have been in bed.




(Yes, this is Brownie too.)








Look at that sweet face. He seems to be having fun and when he's gets tired he leans against the container and looks up at the sky for a while .













Then he rubs his head on the fence like he's thinking about something. Hope it's not freedom that he yearns for.

Last night I came out, with my camera, again and I snuck around the garage to see if I could get a photo without the goats knowing I was there.
Well, guess who was dancing around on his hind feet intertaining the other three goats. Yes, Murphy was dancing. Dancing, I tell you! and...., looking at the full moon. I find this all kind of spooky, but wonderful.
When he saw me, he stopped and came over for a neck rub, but he still had a glassy look in his eyes.
Do you suppose that goats have some kind of magical rite of passage that only they know about?: Some ancient custom for the changing of seasons?

There will be a full moon on Wednesday night. I will watch them carefully. I suspect that this is all just silly goats behavior but...., then again........