Cat of a different color...

I actually do remember to do follow-up posts, from time to time.

The stray kitty is now called "Dandelion". She has been spayed, up to date on shots, and in very good health.
She has gone from her light-as-fluff 4 pounds, to almost 8 pounds. And grew a few inches, also. She is still a fairly small cat.

Dandelion spent most of the past two months living in a large dog crate, and seemed happy to just sleep and heal. I would take her out a few times a day, for some socialization and brushing (her coat sheds copiously and continuously - vet says nutrition will take care of that, in time). She spends an hour or so every evening on my lap, as I catch up with computer things like blogs. Try typing on a laptop with a cat on your lap...

Yes, she has toys. Catnip filled mice and other things. About two weeks ago she decided it was time to debut. She now wanders in and out of the crate, and has started to explore the cabin in small increments. If anything startles her, she hurtles back into the crate, and then peeks out to see what was so scary.

She has been a bit worried about other people coming around, but now lets the punks hold and pet her. She doesn't come voluntarily to them yet. She is just now coming to me, with encouragement. It's hard to develop trust, when a kitty has been abused.

She and Jetta have been sparring though the door grid all along, with a lot of hissing and growling. Mostly on Jetta's part. Now they have met whisker to whisker, with no fireworks. At least only some low growls and huffy tail switches from Jetta, and pretty much nonchalance from Dandelion. I keep an eye on the action, but let them set their own pace.

It's good to see Dandelion progressing in health and social skills. And she is a primo fly and beetle catcher! I'm thinking she had to really scrounge while on her own outdoors, which will make her a good mouser, too. The plan is still for her to transition to another home, but we're not in a hurry. She needs more people exposure, and I'd like to see her coming up to me on her own. She's getting there, slowly but surely. Dandelion has a sweet temperment, is playful, and loves lap time. She is well on the way to being a lovely companion.

Oops. She just discovered the stairs, and top of the beams. Just like a two-year old. And mom has to go check to make sure house rules are being learned...

Pussy Toes

I put this basket on top of the pantry cupboard just in case a cat might like it for napping. Or sleeping all day, as usually happens. Had nothing to do with being a cabiny decorative sort of item. Or because I wanted a basket just that size, with a handle, available for foraging. Nope, it was all about being a cat basket.


Jetta loves high snoozing places. This was as high as she could get, downstairs, without actually going UPstairs.

I keep looking at this and wondering just how she is lying in there - on her back with all four feet up??

And look at the tail twining going on...if that other cat falls off, Jetta is going to be yanked right out of her nest...and I don't want to be around when that happens. She gets very testy when something embarrassingly un-catlike happens to her.

Tag Team

Summer-time transportation has added a new fashion statement: brilliant neon green safety vests. Replacing the brilliant neon orange vests...which Than said were a safety hazard because they were a bit (a LOT) oversize, and billowed out like sails. I think he was just peeved because the sail-like action slowed him down...
The team had come over to tackle the mowing one last time before their trip.

Lee, in the background, mows the large flat area. We are all rejoicing that he is big enough to handle being on TEAM MOW now. Than does the trickier maneuvering around the garden and strawberry and herb beds. Sadly, those lily white legs sporting brand new shorts were also sporting a bright red layer of sensitive skin by the end of the day. Somebody forgot to use the sunblock...a common hazard with donning the first pair of shorts for the season.

Collin is in the front yard..."NO, Collin, NO!! Not the bush! You can't mow the bush..."

Oh my, that was close. And it didn't do a bit of good to holler at him, because...he has his "ears" on. That music just takes over. He was belting out a jolly good rendition of The Star Spangled Banner...Francis would be proud.

"Thank ya, thank ya, thank ya ver'a much..."

I wrote this down a bit ago, don't recall the incident but I remember bursting into laughter. I think one of his brothers had said something about gloating. A direct quote from Collin:

"It's not gloating when you're THAT GOOD. You can't hide the truth."

Out of the mouth of babes. Or punks, as the case may be.

On the road again...

They left. Without the gramma...

Traveling together, Carrie and I have put a lot of miles on the punks over the years; we've had some great road trips, and wonderful memories. This time, it was an especially exciting trip, because daddy was riding shotgun instead of gramma, and they were headed for Utah for a Wright Reunion - over the 4th of July. Yep, a really fun time!

I had to at least document the departure. Here's the empty 'Burb, ready to load. Five punks, two parents, road food, entertainment, pillows...0h yeah, and clothes.

Carrie has travel gear down to an art. The punks all have matching orange back packs (you should have seen us lined up in the airport security one trip), holding a minimal amount of clothing and other necessities pertinant to each kid.

There are always new sandals, some new toys and books...

and plenty of road food. Here is the first day's worth, in indivual snack sacks for everyone along with refills. A cooler also travels along, which is helpful for lunch and breakfast menus.

Carrie could have been a five-star general, she is an outstanding organizer, list-maker, and director-of-action. "Take the food box out now..."

I had to ask, if that was a bottle of Tylenol by her list. I figured her brain was on overdrive by this time. It actually was Tylenol - for punks. Somehow that didn't seem right...

The list is almost done. Lee's finishing off the dish washing. Chef J is jiggling and talking and singing non-stop. He's anxious to hit the pavement. Mostly because that means he gets to play with those new Legos!

The soft car-top carrier has been wondering if it was ever going to be used again. "Hey, I'm still needed! Thank you, thank you, that shelf in the garage was getting way dusty! Stuff me, stuff me, I'm here for ya!"

Happy, on the other hand is NOT thrilled. Dogs can make you feel like a heel for leaving them. He is wondering if he might fit in that carrier...

All in. Note the skate board, Lee's birthday gift from a buddy.

"Crimenently, they can fit in a lousy SKATEBOARD, but they don't have room for ME. Of COURSE not, I'm only man's best friend, not a lousy SKATEBOARD, that can break bones..."

Yes, Collin, the food is in there...

She can still climb on the roof! Five punks haven't slowed her down yet!

The final zip. That soft carrier is a dandy invention, it is easy to handle and strap on top. And it holds a LOT. Stuff that leaves more room inside. Like for passengers.

Collin and Lee get the blankets and pillows arranged. It's beginning to look packed. Only a few more minutes to lift-off, now.

Each of the punks have a critter. A beany-baby animal. All different. To fit different personalities. Some of those critters have traveled to the east coast, and the west coast, and survived to tell the story. This particular animal has already traveled from Tennessee, which is where Collin got it for Lee when he and Than helped neighbor Jolene with showing her sheep at the National show last year. "Chewy", as this little goat is known by, is about to experience her first road trip west of the Mississippi. You never know where they will ride, usually on a shoulder, or a hat, or a pocket. They go everywhere with the punks.

A rule: you have to have on the right clothes for the occasion. "YOU! You go in and change. No dirty shirts, or holey pants, are getting in this car!"

"Hey, I have my best collar on...does that count?"

"Everybody load up!" As soon as the seat belts were buckled, out came the new stuff...the wheels hadn't even turned yet, but they were already on the road as far as they were concerned!

Seven backpacks: check. Seven pillows: check. Five entertainment bags: check. Five punks: check. Snack bags: checks. Every list made the past two weeks: check.
Two parents: MIA...

"Well, we can't leave with out a DRIVOH..."

Oblivious to missing parent/driver....

Brent just found his goody bag!

Now that's one happy woman...she managed to create packing lists, animal care lists, label everything in the barns that wasn't moving, train a farm-sitter, nurse everyone through five days of an unknown bug during the week of packing and last minute snafus, and got out the driveway 90 minutes ahead of schedule.

Without the gramma.

I know just how you feel, Happy.

I'm sorry Nikki, even though you would have fit just fine, the weather was going to be too hot for little old ladies.

At least that was the excuse they gave ME...

What a difference a day makes

Actually, it has been 28 days - four weeks.
Here's the beginning of the garden season...
and here we are mid-season.

This lush growth happened in spite of having three of those four weeks dealing out temperatures barely in the fifties. The plants were pretty much in a state of suspended animation - only the radishes kept plugging away.

Then, last week, in a glorious burst of 80's and even 90's a few times, with a good soaking storm passing through, the plants exploded into growth.

Now it's going to be a race to beat the midwest bug population to the harvest.

The same weather that nourishes and promotes the rapid plant growth, does the same thing for a multitude of BUGS. Bugs I've never seen before. Bugs that thumb their collective noses at any sort of spay, powder, traps or predator aimed at them. Bugs that unerringly hit the veggies on the very day they are ready to pick.

I love the garden. I don't mind the labor, I can work around the heat (although 5 a.m. is NOT my favorite time of day...), I can haul mulch by the truck load if that's what my garden needs. I can out-maneuver the rabbits, I can keep the deer at an acceptable distance (such as in the freezer), and I can "harvest" weeds.

But the bugs. When the bugs show up...IT'S WAR.

Stay tuned for reports from the frontlines of the battlefield....

Snack Cake Addendum

After doing some tweaking with the Banana Chocolate Chip Snack Cake (the original recipe called for SUGAR - good grief), I have one more addition:

if you have any TOASTED WHEAT GERM in your freezer (yes, along with the nuts - don't want those good oils going rancid,now, do we?), please add about 1/4 c. wheat germ to the dry ingredients.

I asked nicely.

You won't regret it.

It's time...

Summer is only days old, and it's harvest time already. This relatively short-season climate means that our growing season telescopes into a few intense months.
When the first hay fields go down, we know that summer is almost done... even if it's only June 20th. I know, that's way skewed, but rapid heat buildup combined with a few good thunderstorms dropping a couple inches of rain is the formula for the lush rampant growth of hay fields, gardens - and punks.
I swear, they've all grown at least two inches in the past few weeks... sunshine and dirt well-watered in a swimming pool, will do it everytime.


Anyway, our hay is done as of today. Just needs to be hauled to the barn.

The strawberries are Rubenesque and unable to hide their glory beneath the leaves any longer. Some voted for naked on a cookie sheet in the freezer, others are holding out for the jam pot.
Herbs donated from various gardens and foraged from our fields are making their way to my overflowing kitchen. Two dehyrators are now running 24/7,

while the popular "hang'em high" technique takes care of some of the bounty.

The counter top is becoming crowded with quart jars of herbs steeping in apple cider vinegar or basking in golden olive oil. More on those projects to come.

Preserving the gifts of the land is an honor.

And with winter hovering in the wings, I'll be even more grateful.

The days are getting shorter, ya know.

Front to back...or back to front?

My neighbors smile when I scurry home to grab my camera. "She wants a picture of THIS??" I keep telling them, I'm documenting cultural differences...because frequently another state can seem like another world. I shoulda been an anthropologist, that's what!

Anyway, daily life on the farms here are a never-ending source of educational entertainment for a displaced NW girl. And of photo ops, naturally. Large or small, farms demand a huge commitment of time. And it's almost always a family operation, all hands on deck (excuse me for mixing my metaphors...).

Haying time is a scramble: of watching the morning sky (most farmers aren't real believers in the TV weatherman - they find the Old Farmer's Almanac more accurate, give or take a few clouds), of equipment breaking down right in the middle of a bale, of calling the neighbor kid to come help buck hay into the barn because a rain storm is bearing down out of the west, of hot humid days, towering clouds and work-by-headlight nights - to get that precious crop safely undercover.

Neighbor Jolene, as with every farmer's wife I've met so far, pitches in with the task on hand. You can tell about how long a couple has been married, by who drives the tractor.

A guy has to really trust his woman when she's behind the trailer load of hay, using the tractor to push the load into the barn. And that guy is at the other end of the load...on foot...virtually invisible....


Tom has the trailer tongue under control, he steers while the tractor lady pushes. Notice the black dog? That's Brutus. He's the third important hand in this operation. You'll see why in a moment...

Also notice - the people at either end of the trailer load of hay can not see each other. Trust, people...trust. It's essential for life long happiness.

If you think this procedure is done in silent cooperation - you are correct. They have been doing this for many years; this farm team is like a well-oiled watch, each tick is important and doesn't miss a beat. Besides, it doesn't do any good to holler at the (invisible) person at the other end, can't hear a thing over that tractor noise.

Here's one of the critical parts - clearing the barn doors. It looks...it looks...

OK! Now observe, the open door on the tractor...this is important.

Because there is another hay-laden trailer already parked in there. And that tractor is a noisy old thing. Slowly....slowly....REALLY slowly now....

and here's where Brutus earns his kibble n' bits: on command from Tom to "BARK!!", Brutus sounds off, a real roof raiser of a bark, which Jolene can hear over the tractor engine, and she STOPS PUSHING! Whew.

One of these days, I'm going to do a whole post just on Brutus. He's a remarkable dog.

Right now I'm going to take a nap...I'm all worn out, reliving the tension and anticipation of getting that load of hay in the barn.