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........

Let sleeping serpents lie ?

Well, I took a short walk this morning. It's going to be another hot day and it's always so nice to walk before the heat "swarms" down upon us. A blog friend used that word to describe how heat accumulates during the day in one of her poems. I like the expression because that's exactly how it feels.

I got to the big turn in our road where we have accumulated a few junky things. Our hauling trailer and various pieces of metal, fencing and wood that....,"we may need some day". I always walk over there carefully and my eyes are ALWAYS on the ground. I walk EVERYWHERE carefully, especially in the summer and it's a good thing because, when they're sleeping, rattlesnakes don't always rattle.
This one was sunning itself and didn't move a muscle until I took the picture. Then it came to life. For those of you who have never heard a Rattler rattle; there is no sound quite like it. It's like a well oiled motor that is running smoothly. It's a warning that you can't ignore. This snake was very good sized. It got into strike mode and it's tongue started moving in and out, tasting the air for the sorry two- legged invader who dared to wake it up. Then , as most snakes will do if you give them plenty of room, it retreated back underneath the pile of wood. It was still rattling loudly as I carefully backed away and returned to the house.
When I told the Prospector, he left with his shotgun in hand, to kill the poor thing. The dogs and I waited, inside. I never heard a shot. Finally the Prospector returned. It seems that he could hear the snake but could not get a good shot at it and, of course, didn't want to miss. I think I have said this before: We don't like to kill snakes but last year a very small rattler bit both of our dogs and the vet bill was enormous. Our German Shorthair thinks snakes are lizards and he will not leave them alone. So we don't let the Rattlers get anywhere near the house if we can help it. Now, with the goats, it's even another reason not to let snakes roam around here. We have a king snake that lives up near the chicken coop under the straw bales. It's beautiful! They kill rattlers. He is welcome here. We'll wait until this afternoon or evening and go down to the switchback again. It has to be done. It's about survival of the fittest. Sometimes I'm not so sure who the "fittest" is. This was the snakes territory before it was ours. Something I always like to keep in mind.

Gourds, goats and good food

I hosted our gourd club's annual potluck yesterday. It was so much fun and everyone had a great time. With everything that was going on I can't believe I actually did this; but I never picked up the camera and so I have no photos of all the delicious food , or the interaction with the goats, and all the creativity that was going on.
I did a mini workshop on how to make gourd pins and was amazed at the beautiful and creative results. We sat outside under the trees and everyone worked on one or two pins that they could take home with them.
At our next meeting I will take some photos of some of the wonderful results. I shouldn't be surprised at the art work that was created. These ladies and gent (Don, you were a brave man among all those women) are very talented people.






This morning I was greeted by this beautiful bouquet of Gladiolus. My friend Sylvia brought them yesterday. Look at them! Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous? She has a lovely garden in the valley and grows lots of vegetables, flowers and ......, gourds. Thanks Sylvia.


Now, I want to talk about the food that came with the flowers. The best thing about a potluck is the delicious food that everyone brings. We had a chicken mushroom casserole that was really wonderful, a pasta salad with string beans, fresh bread, rosemary chicken, fruit, fresh lemonade and ......desserts: How about fresh homemade lemon meringue pie, brownies, chocolate ranger cookies (with big chunks of chocolate pieces), and a creampuff dessert with custard, whipped cream and chocolate sauce? Oh my gosh!! We all died on desserts. What a feast it was!

For intertainment we had the goats do what they do best. ( Now I really wish I had gotten the camera). They were so cute and greeted everyone with joy. I even found two of the ladies inside the goat enclosure having a "moment" with the boys. I'm so glad that they were comfortable being around goats. Janice, one of the ladies, has goats of her own so I knew she was fine with them. All in all, we had a wonderful day.

Today it's very hot, but yesterday it was as if we had put our order in for absolutely perfect weather.
As I said goodby to everyone I thought, to myself ,how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place and be able to share it with my friends and family. Sometimes you've just got to step back and say a quiet "Thank you" to whom ever is listening.

Wordless Wednesday: Bambino Art

My heat loving, chicken dusting garden; reborn

I think of Squeeky, in her next life as a chichen hawk, and it makes me laugh. Maybe she will be there to defend my garden from her nemeses hens. In the meantime, I have replanted and mulched. Of course, the hens will not be out and about for a while. I want to enjoy the garden a bit . I think I will need a fence around this area. It's the one place that they head for every time.

This is the Hollyhocks second year. Look at the color of this one. It's so yummy you want to taste it. Sherbet anyone?

...., and this one; the Gerbera or Transvaal Daisy. This is a beautiful perennial for hot climates. It's native to South Africa. What color!! This one should be called rainbow sherbet. Don't you just want one bite?

When I was young I had little interest in gardening. My mother was the gardener in our family. She knew all the plants and their latin names. She nurtured everything; the garden, me, my sister, baby birds , stray cats and lost dogs. It was her nature and I reveled in the fact that I was a part of all this love and care. We took hot water to the birdbath,in winter to thaw the frozen water so the birds could drink and bathe. We kept a baby bird in a shoebox and fed it with a medicine dropper until it was strong enough to fly away. We let big garden spiders make their huge webs in the garden because mom said they were "good luck" and they caught lots of bad bugs. But when it came to the garden I would let Mom do the planting. I guess playing with friends had priority. The garden was always beautiful and there for us to enjoy. Dad took care of the lawn ,and some prunning, but Mom did the rest. I think, now, that all the care that was given to that garden was like the care that she gave us. It came with great love. So, it found a place deep inside of me and stayed there for many years.
Then something happened a few years ago. I started to remember the names of things. I could even remember the"diabrotica". That's probably not how it's spelled but it's phonetically close. The diabrotica was a bad little lady bug. Instead of being red with black spots, it was green with black spots and ate plants instead of other bugs. I started remembering names like Escallonia, Lonicera japonica (honeysuckle) and Aquilegia (the lovely farie in the shade; the Columbine). Beautiful names. Names that make poetry when you say them. Buddleia davidii....., and one of Mom's favorites that still climbs on our old patio that Dad built in 1951......, Campsis radicans, the lovely Trumpet Vine. I look at these names and I remember my childhood. I may not remember the names to tell you, in a conversation, but they are familiar sounds from my childhood, and some are in my garden now. It was a gift from my mother that I didn't open until I was a middle aged woman. What a lovely surprise to find that when your life is built on a good foundation, like a garden with good soil, it can produce a bounty of wonderful memories.

"Coop" de grace

I know I'm not suppose to be here. I just can't help myself. I see an egg and I have to sit on it. I wait in here until the others lay their eggs and leave. That's when it happens. I get this irresistable compulsion. Sometimes I find myself sitting on 3 or4 at a time and I don't even remember how I got there.

My friend, Henny Penny, says it's PMS. I don't know what this is but she knows about a lot of things. She's very smart. The old lady must have it too. She gets so upset when she sees me on the eggs. Yesterday she picked me up and held me....., and shes always sticking this little silver box in my face. Sometimes it makes a big flash of light and I don't like that. All these things can be so annoying when I'm sitting quietly, minding my own business.

I do feel kind of cranky. Henny Penny says it's the beginning of old age and that I will experience a lot of moodiness and, sometimes, paranoia. I don't know what paranoia means but my friend says that I might get "evil thoughts" in my head.

Just look at those hens hanging around Napoleon. They think they're such big shots. I'll bet they're talking about me.
Here's something to think about big shots: In my next life I'm going to be a chicken hawk. My name will be "Coop" de grace. Then all of you big, fancy hens better watch out when you're free ranging in the old lady's garden.

Bambino Blog; guest post

We had fun today. Daddy took us to Noni and Papa's. Mommy had to work so she didn't come but Uncle Matt was there. We played in the water. We had lunch at a yummy place. I had chicken pieces, french fries and fruit. My little brother had fruit and some of daddy's lunch. Then we went to a park and played on the slide and the see-saw, and walked across a big bridge that Papa called a "foot" bridge. That's funny. Then we came back to Noni's and sang Happy Birthday to Papa: really loud. I helped Papa blow out the candles on his cake. Noni gave me a blue bowl with cake and ice cream. I ate all of it with milk. It was good. Happy Birthday Papa!