Carl, the Strawberry Bandit

Yes, there is a small problem in the garden. For some reason, Carl, our older Corgi, has discovered that Strawberries are delicious little morsels that magically appear on some plants and now he is rooting for them everywhere, like a little Javalina... only he's smarter than the average pig... and he's sly.

If you click on the photo above, you will see him PRETENDING he is just cruising around looking for a bug or a leaf. He acts like he's not interested in much of anything but this is just a ploy... He's really heading for THE STRAWBERRY PLANT.
It's the same routine everyday. He has mastered the fine art of deception.

He, nonchalantly, walks over to the pot with the strawberry plants. He sniffs the leaves. He checks to see if anyone is watching.... and then.. in goes the nose. He roots around, finds a strawberry and runs with the stolen goods. Lately, he hasn't even been running away. He just eats the strawberry and sashays away like it's no big deal.
"Hey, little man. Where are you going. I want to talk to you. What's with eating my strawberries?"

"Oh!' Farmlady. I didn't see you." He turns and walks back toward me...

Look at that expression. He is looking at the Strawberries.
"I hope Farmlady didn't see me eat those a minute ago. If I just walk past without stopping, maybe she won't notice that they are gone."
He walked right by them...

That must have taken a lot of self control, thought Farmlady. Then he walked around the container and got a drink of water.

"Carl? Are you eating my strawberries again?" He didn't turn around or look at me. He was acting like he didn't know what Farmlady was talking about. "Carl? Are you bla..bla..bla..blaing my blaberries again?"
Then he fuzzy butts over to Cutter who is barking at the turkey in the drive way.

"Hi Carl. Wanna help me bark at those big birds?"
Carl wasn't too interested. HIS TUMMY WAS FULL!
"No cutter. I just ate the last of the strawberries that Farmlady was going to eat. I'm trying to act like I didn't do it."
"Oh. Strawberries? Where?" as he forgets about the Turkey...

"I want some strawberries too!"
"It's too late. I ate them all" Carl says.
"YOU ATE THEM ALL?" Cutter ran over to Carl and sniffed Carl's mouth.
"Yes, I did."
"You're 'spose to share."
"It was a spur of the moment thing." said Carl, "You have to get them when you can. I can't be saving them for you Cut'. You're big now.You have to get your own."
Cutter looked at Carl and then he decided that this was more than he could take. After a day of going to the vets for shots in the morning and then having the turkey ignore his barks, he was not going to take this "dump on the puppy" stuff anymore. He walked slowly around Carl and then he jumped on Carl's back. They wrestled and ran around the yard until they were exhausted and then they both laid down on the porch and went to sleep.
. Farmlady decided that she would move the strawberries to another place outside the reach of Carl as she had done to another pot of strawberries. If she didn't, she would never have any ripe red strawberries because Carl had even taken to eating them before they turned red. He didn't care if they were unripe. He liked them even when they were white with a little pink on them.She moved the plant and started for the house. Carl and Cutter were laying on the porch.
Farmlady wondered, for a few minutes, about having dogs in her life. She decided that a few strawberries were a small price to pay for the joy of living with these two little Corgis and, as she walked into the house, she heard them both get up and follow her.
Later, after dinner, Farmlady thawed and sweetened some frozen peaches to put on ice cream. Fresh strawberries would have been lovely.... but, as Carl curled up in her lap, watching her eat and waited for the "licking of the ice cream bowl", she decided that life was much more about THIS DOG LYING IN HER LAP than not having fresh strawberries for dessert.  Life was about two little dogs that love their people, think the garden is theirs and sometimes take advantage.... but she wouldn't have it any other way.
Farmlady finished her ice cream, let Carl and Cutter share the little bit of ice cream that was left and curled up on the couch with one dog on each side of her.
She fell asleep  and dreamed about a lovely strawberry field, long and filled with thousands of red berries. She was there with two Corgis running ahead of her, They were jumping into the air and looking back at her as they ran. It was a beautiful dream.

Wordless Wednesday: Dig, breath, Dig, breath, Dig some more...Rest.

Click on photo to enlarge.                                                                                                                                              

The Beach at Linda Mar

Have you ever, slowly, learned to love something that you were afraid of?
As if you woke up from a scary dream and realized that the fear in the dream was gone and the reality of being awake was  beautiful?

... and when you walk closer to the edge of the relentless, noisy tide of this fear someone runs passed you and dives into the waters as if their life was determined to destroy itself...

and they disappear into the unfathomable water.

And you say, "How could they do that?"
****************************
Beaches always bring me thoughts of mortality.
It happen one summer. I was on vacation with my aunt and cousin, in the late 50's, in southern Calilfornia. There was  a diving platform that was held by a rope out beyond the surf at the La Jolla Beach and Country Club that some wealthy relative belonged to. It was a hot day and the water looked so good. My cousin, being older and a much stronger swimmer decided that we should swim out to this platform so that we could mingle with the rich kids.
She reached the platform before I did. I was swimming slowly out over the waves and into the depths of the Pacific Ocean, knowing full well that I shouldn't be out there. I had never swam in the ocean before and was not a good swimmer at all. I was a floater in swimming pools, a pretender... a dive down and swim under the water, with goggles on, and see the bottom of the pool kind of swimmer. I didn't know how to breath properly or use the right kind of strokes. I should not have been swimming in the ocean.
This was not a swimming pool and there was no "bottom" that I could see or feel. My mind played this game of watery vertigo with me. The warm and cold currents clutched my fear like fish touching my body as I tried to keep swimming into the waves of water that would sometimes block my view of the platform ahead.
Then I saw my cousin swimming past me in the opposite direction toward the beach. She said something about a dead seagull floating in the water, blood and the attraction of sharks for that sort of thing.  I froze.
I knew, at any moment, a shark was going to find me flailing about like that dead bird and I would feel this huge monster grab my leg.
I turned around and with all the effort that my thirteen year old body could muster, I swam for shore but my breathing was impaired and my strokes were immature. I was "in over my head". The old saying  finally took on an urgent and stark reality I had never understood before.
As I tried to swim.. as my face went into the water and filled my nose with salty liquid, I noticed, for the first time,  that I was swimming right next to the heavy rope that was tethering the diving platform. I grabbed the rope and pulled myself into shore with the certainty that if that rope had not been there I would have been eaten by this unseen shark or drowned from fear alone.
I will never forget the feeling of sand under my feet and the warmth of the sun when I reached the beach and lay there shaking from panic and the horror of being so hopelessly left to fend for myself in an ocean so vast that there was no hope of anyone finding my body until it was swepted onto a distant beach and someone would be running to me screaming "Oh my God!".... Flipping me over, as in the movies, they would find me missing a leg and covered with seaweed. The awful phone call that would have been made to my parents... the cousin who would have been blamed for letting me swim out there.. because she was older... because she was suppose to be with me. It was a  tragedy that never happen, of course, because of a ROPE.... but the memory has never left me.
I NEVER WENT INTO THE OCEAN AGAIN.
**********************************

So when, on this beach, last week, I watched my sister pick up a stranded crab

, walk out to the serf and return it to the water...

and how the crab greatfully seemed to move into the ebb and flow of the surf and become a part of this vast sea. It's home...

.. and how beautiful it looked in it's marine environment.
I looked at the delicate flowers that grow in the sand dunes...

and felt the winds that shape the trees...

I watched my sister stand for long periods of time and looks out toward the horizon... smiling, relaxing, rejuvinating... and walking too close to the foamy water.

I wanted to tell her not to go in too far, but I didn't.  I even walked down closer to the sand that holds reflections... the sand that is so filled with water that it mirrored her feet and the sky above. This is what I needed to see. Not the ocean of fear that almost took my life so many years ago. I needed to see the ocean that reflects the sky and the life that lives around it. I think I'm coming closer to seeing this vast childhood monster as a life giving sea of endless resources, not only for the creatures that live in it, but the beings that come to find solace beside it.
I have never been close enough to see my reflection in the wet sand. It's a reflection of life that I hope to see someday. Maybe I will stand there the next time I'm at the beach and see my own likeness in the mirrored sand.... and maybe I will let the white foam move over my bare feet and once again feel that strange sensation I remember as a child, of going backwards and forward at the same time.... being pulled into and away from the shore....and have no fear.
I'm still afraid of the ocean.... but I'm learning that not all monsters are bad. Some are just misunderstood. If you watch someone who loves something long enough, as my sister loves the ocean, you understand what William Wordsworth said when he wrote....

"...Thanks to the Human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

Ode~intimations of immortality from recollections of early childhood~

A Busy Weekend and a Memorial Day Moment

FRIDAY: 
My friend "J" and I went to Placerville. We hit one of the biggest Thrift stores in Placerville.

 Snowline Hospice is the biggest Thrift store I've think I have ever been in. It's clean and well organized with very reasonable prices. We were in THRIFT STORE HEAVEN for hours.
Then we got hungry. I don't know Placerville very well and "J" does, so I asked her to pick a nice place for lunch. It would be my treat for her birthday and we were celebrating. So we went to
THE SEQUOIA.

This is a beautiful restaurant. It's a very old house that has been restored. If you like ghost stories you can read about this mansion and its strange happenings here. 
The food was delicious. After lunch we hit another thrift store. 
This is what you will need....

These were all my wonderful "finds".

The LEATHER purse, the wool sweater and the shirt were $3.50, $3.00 & $3.00. All the other things were $1.00 each. Oh, sorry.... the little frame with a hand painted picture in it was only $.50 
I looked up that cup on an antique site and found it for sale. They were asking $25.00 for it. I just love it when that happens. My thrifty heart just starts pumping more blood and I get a warm fuzzy feeling all over. Do bargains do that to you too?
We had a great day. The weather was beautiful and cool. The drive on highway 49 was wonderful. Everything was green and the rivers were full.
*********************
SATURDAY:
This was my "yucky" day. The day of eating cookie dough and seeing angry Gerbera Daisys. Maybe I "thrifted" too much the day before.
The grand babies were suppose to come up here. They were bringing Mommy and Daddy with them and staying overnight but they called and said that they had a change of plans.  Too much work and not enough time. We understood... Boo hoo! We made plans to go to Micky's Grove in a couple of weeks. Life gets busy when you have kids, jobs and a house to take care of. I remember this well. It's OK. I will see them next weekend. I'm going down to my sister's tomorrow and I will be there until  next Sunday.
So Saturday was a bust. The only good thing was that I finished knitting my "Andalusian" wool scarf and went to bed early. 
**************** 
SUNDAY:
I slept until 9:00 a.m. This is just strange. Got up and had some coffee. Took a shower and The Prospector says, " Did you remember that we are going to Ione?' 
I kind of thought that he might change his mind. I should know better. When it comes to TRAINS, TRACTORS,AUTOMOBILES or the acquisition of GOLD I should never ASS/U/ME that he will forget or change his plans. We were going to take the kids to see the train show in Ione. This show is called the Ione Railfair and Vintage Motorfest. It's sponsored by the Historic Amador Central Railroad Assoc.
The Prospector still wanted to go,so we got in the car and drove down to Ione, about a 20 minute drive west of Jackson. to see the show.
This was a bigger show than I expected. You can see the website here. There were all kinds of antique farm machinery, a few classic autos like a great old fire truck.

...and a model train exhibit.

A beautiful Wells Fargo Wagon that I got to sit in and someone took my picture in it. 

I'm waving from the window. It was very elegant. Wish it had been hitched to some horses. What fun it would have been to really ride in it. There were no windows... just canvas rolls that could be lowered to protect you from the elements. I imagine that this was not enough to keep the hot, cold , dusty and windy weather from making the trip unpleasant but it was better than nothing and, back in the day, folks probably thought this was innovative . Still, what an experience it would have been and it sure would have beat walking.
We found out that the tickets for the Speeders, the individual rail cars that give rides, were sold out. This is a 20 mile trip in one of these motorcars that travels on the old railway back up toward Jackson. This was the first time that they had ever been SOLD OUT. Now I was glad that the grand boys weren't with us. They would have been so disappointed.
 We decided to go on the Skagit Motorcar. This is a 30 minute ride for $3.00  This was like a taste of the longer trip so we boarded the SKAGIT. 

This was fun. We had a very informative engineer who told us a lot about these rail cars. This motorcar transported the railroad workers to jobs on the rail lines. It was very noisy and clickity clackity, but the scenery was beautiful and I saw parts of Ione that I hadn't seen before. When we came to one of the highways, two of the men got out and stopped traffic so we could cross the highway safely.
The driver reversed the car and we returned to the "station", which was really the Ione Junior High School.
We had lunch and bought some Kettle Corn to take home. 

Then we looked at all the old farm and railroad machinery. 

The Prospector found just what he was looking for but it wasn't for sale. Darn! He's been talking tractors every since.

Here are some prices for travel in that fancy Wells Fargo buggy in 1867.

Which one is the model and which is real.? Top left is a little tiny model of a lumber hauler. I thought that was a cool way to show how detailed the models are. The "logs" are small branches.
Finally the "Speeders" came back from the morning trip. We watched them all come into the "Station". 

Each one was unique. Each one is privately owned. They all belong to a club that does these trips on many different tracks that aren't being used by Railroad companies anymore. They maintain the tracks and clean up the litter along the line. Everyone looked like they were having a great time.
We watched them arrive and then we drove home.
Did you know this?

Next year we will bring the Beans (our grand kids) and get here early. I just know they would love going for a ride on these "Speeders".... and the "big kids" too. That would be their Daddy and Papa. This is like" riding the rails" without all the danger... just fun.
We got home and the dogs joined us in the living room for a nap.
Later in the evening we went over, with some cookies, to met our new neighbors. Actually not "new" but this is another story for another time.

Monday:
Today I stayed home. 
The Prospector drove up to met his brother in Pine Crest, to check out their campsite for their big week this summer. It's tradition. They always go up there to see where the site is that they have reserved..... to see how many vehicles, boats, trailers and tents they can squeeze into the space. 
They said that it was cold today. There was snow on the ground up in Pine Crest.... and  I think there will be snow there all summer. It's never going to stop this year. The fish will be frozen to the bottom of the lake all year. 
But, Oh the excitement. It's something to look forward to. It's tradition. 
I stayed home and cleaned the house, or should I say, the dog hair. Are your animals shedding. OMG! The hair is everywhere. 
Then I felted my "Andalusian" scarf. I bought this old wash board and it has come in so handy for felting.
Rub, rub, rub!! This took about 20 mins. of hot soapy water and rubbing with my hands, another 15 mins. of scrubbing on the washboard and then a few more minutes of hand rubbing. I rinsed it in cool water until all the soap was gone. 
I could feel it tightening up.  I love the feeling of the yarn going from limp and loose to heavy and strong. It's so satisfying. There's something so organic and magical about this process.

It turned out great. I stretched it, shaped it and left it to dry out on the porch.  Now I have to put some buttons on it or crochet some flowers.... or embellish it somehow.

 All day I was thinking about a boy named Barney Boyer. He was a year behind me in High School.  He was killed in the Viet Nam War in 1965. I don't know why I thought of him. I didn't know him well, but he was someone I knew who died in a war.... fighting for our country.... no wait.... not for his country. He was fighting to help the South Vietnamese against the NVC.  We were there to support South Vietnam. To fight the spread of Communism.
  Barney was probably about 20 years old. Do you think he really understood all the political implications?. I wonder...
What is a life worth? I want to say that he died in a "just" war, but I still don't think that we did the right thing over there in Viet Nam. We left the country too soon..... or maybe we should never have gone over their in the first place. But , I know one thing for sure. Barney Boyer died and he was just a boy.


I wore my POW bracelet today. It reads Maj. Henry Serex- 4/2/72.  I was 29 years old. I was pregnant with my second child.  This bracelet was my effort to support a war that I really didn't understand. When I look at this bracelet it reminds me that war is Hell on Earth and that there has got to be a better way. Don't you think so too?

Click on any of these photos to enlarge them. 
Talk to you in a week or so..... 

 

Flowers As Children..as Flowers.

I bought a Gerbera Daisy the other day. A real beauty with one flower opened and a few smaller ones ready to open up. I bought a yellow one for a friend and this pale coral one for myself.

I was going to plant the Daisy in the garden but I got too busy with my lemon bar meltdown during the week.. Today I repeated my bad behavior. This time I made "everything but the kitchen sink " cookies and ate most of the dough before it was cooked. I may need some serious intervention soon. I have been running amok in the kitchen. I've lost my ability to "just say no" to myself.
So the flower sat on the table waiting for good soil and a refreshing relocation. I just ignored it.
I was going into the kitchen to retrieve cookies from the oven when I noticed the Daisy on the table.
Oh my gosh, I thought, I have forgotten to water that poor plant and it's looking a bit pale.
I picked it up and set it on the sink... then I got the cookies out of the oven, put some more in, set the timer for another ten minutes, ate some cookie dough and walked back to the sink.
That's when I noticed the OTHER FLOWER IN THE POT.

IT was starring at me .....

And it seemed angry.... I thought I heard it say something and growl at me.
I lifted up the container and took a closer look.  Thinking that this odd flower was really two flowers pushed together, I check the stem.

It didn't look as angry from the backside. It was then that I realized  I was looking at was a very upset flower that had just wanted to be on its own, but it was born different, somehow attached, and not very happy about it. I watered the plant immediately and set the pot down in the sink to drain. 

 Poor thing. No wonder you're are so upset. You expected to stand on your own with a gorgeous array of petals, only to find another flower attached to your stem....vying for attention too.
It's true. You are different.. but you are interesting and unusual. Each flower has it's own personality. Be who you are: A magnificent anomaly.



One flower turns out "perfect".... What is perfect anyway? I'm partial to imperfection.

Another is born "different".... troublesome, not as easy to get along with. But it's just as worthy. 
It's still a perennial. It is of the same family as its siblings. Its petals might be brighter, noisier... you can feel the intensity of its personality. It's just a different "hybrid" soul.
Each flower is unique.... one of a kind.
We need to love them all, even if they are a little more difficult to grow.

Think how we started. We were all new and unformed. Life was filled with possibilities. 
Imagine you're a beginner... always a beginner, and have strength... and bloom.


Gerbera jamesonii.... the Transvaal Daisy:
Just give them partial shade and regular watering and they will thrive.

Looking for a Rainbow

For all the folks that have lost loved ones and their homes in the Tornadoes...

 and prayers  for Joplin, Missouri.

Do you ever have a day like this?

I knew when I woke up, yesterday, that it was going to be one of those days. I ate white bread for breakfast. I was cranky.  I felt fat...
So what did my lame and misguided ego do?

 It made lemon bars. I had no shame. I made them and I ate them before they even cooled off.

Did the Vinca stop growing through the rocks? No.

Did my body image improve ? I don't think so...

Did I find solace in "Nineteen ways to clear the clutter for good"?

Or, in the cute card that I bought to make someone else feel good?
Not really...

Did I feel like this all day? Pretty much...

Did anyone care?
@#$%^&*@#$%^&**************

Have you ever done this?
Does any of it make sense?
Did I eat half of those lemon bars without even taking them out of the cake pan?....
Yes, I did.


Do I feel better today?...... kind of.
But, I'm not looking into another mirror or weighing myself until that little black beetle
turns around and says,
 "Get a grip girl. Life is ups and downs... and sometimes, when you least expect it, someone is not careful about where they are stepping,  and it's all over with. So... LIGHTEN UP!....and thanks for watching where you walk."
Not likely you say?
Then I think I'll have another lemon bar......