Lughnasa Lugnasa Moon
Not a great image, I admit. But as you can see, the land-beaver remains high in the tree where we assume he (or she) spent the night. This fact occasioned much barking this morning when the dogs discovered their playmate had hung around (groan) for another round.
BTW: Whistle-pig comes from the distress call, a high pitched squeak which we heard several times yesterday.
Lughnasa Lughnasa Moon
Hot times outside this afternoon.
What does Rigel see?
It appears she (and the other three) have treed a woodchuck. Yes, it is, as Wikipedia says a groundhog, a land-beaver, or a whistle pig. They’re a member of the Marmot family.
The dogs seem to think that if they bark loud enough and long enough the land-beaver will drop out of the tree into their mouths. Doubtful.
Summer Lughnasa Moon
Just finished a BBC series, Life on Mars, recommended by sister Mary. Thanks, Mary. This series is a real mind bender. I can’t say why without giving away a lot of the plot, but if you enjoy mystery with a dose of science fiction, this British drama will appeal to you.
We selected a realtor today, a woman who believes the grounds, the vegetable garden and the orchard are selling points. She’s the daughter of Mary Thorpe, Margaret, and works with Mary at Coldwell-Banker in Minneapolis.
Mary Thorpe brought her Portuguese Water Dog with her, a small black dog with a soft curly coat. Mary took her to a friends who lived on a lake. Minnie, the dog, was in the water a lot. The next day her tail was between her legs even though she seemed happy. At the dog park another dog owner diagnosed the problem, swimmer’s tail. Turns out Portuguese Water Dogs use their tail as a rudder when they swim and when they’re in the water for extended periods the the muscle where the tail joins the body gets over used.
Summit Most Heat Moon
I don’t do many of these, mostly because I rarely get up before 7:30 or so and that means dawn has come and gone. Today though, with a dog needing to go outside, I’m up. Once a certain amount of wakefulness crosses the barrier of consciousness, going back to sleep right away is a lost cause.
Mary and I are going out to breakfast, then up to the Green Barn for woodchips to finish off the deck. Beisswinger’s surprised me by not having much in the way of mulch, just some more expensive shredded bark, which was not what I needed.
Summer Most Heat Moon
Another bookshelf packed up and about a third of another. Kate called with more news from Colorado, visits to Golden and Idaho Springs, another realtor whom she liked even more than the last one. Tomorrow she plans a trip between Boulder and Golden on the advice of Ann Beck, today’s realtor.
Mary and I tried to eat at that Gasthof in Northeast, but it was closed for some reason. The parking at the Red Stag was impossible. So we ended up at the Aster in St. Anthony Main. After the meal, we walked out to St. Anthony Falls and watched the power of the Upper Mississippi express itself in churning foam and water spilling, fast and powerful.
Kepler has begun to settle in, not even barking at Mary. It seems Ruth and Jon’s visit made him aware that we get visitors and that he doesn’t need to announce each one. He spent time downstairs with me today, helping me pack. Tonight he’ll sleep on the bed with me since Kate’s not in her place.
These nocturnes will, I imagine, have a different flavor with mountains around and, possibly, a night sky clear of light pollution. May it be so.
Summer Most Heat Moon
Took myself out to breakfast this morning at Pappy’s Cafe. This is an authentic small town gathering place just off Round Lake Boulevard. When I walked in this morning at 9 am, the heads turned to see the new arrival and they were all gray. It was like coming down to breakfast at Andover Independent Living (AILing).
The bacon and cheese omelette was not beautiful, but it was tasty. As you would expect. The waitress called me baby and touched my shoulder each time she came to fill the coffee cup. This is small town service and I liked it.
Bought a few groceries at Festival Foods, but our coupon shopper is out of state, so I stayed to the list. Mary’s coming tomorrow and we’ll pick up a few things for her then.
Ace Hardware for oil for the lawn mower. All this on a sunny October morning, it’s 65 here so far this a.m. The dogs are playful, smiling, running with toys in their mouths, nipping and dipping as dogs do when life is good. I feel the same way.
Summer Most Heat Moon
Jon and his friend, Max, worked together years ago as the “monkey boys” of Dave Schlegel’s house renovation crew. They did this and that, both learning a lot about how to do various necessary household work. Today they’re putting those skills to work replacing our deck surface and a fence. Right now the deck is naked, wearing only its braces under the hot July sun.
Gertie wanted to go out, so I let her outside through the garage and into the orchard. But when it came time for her to come back in she crawled between two braces and followed the space between them to the back door where she leaped up and came in the kitchen. She wasn’t going to let a few missing boards get in the way of her usual route back inside.
This is a wonderful gift they’re giving us.
Summer Most Heat Moon
The good, no, great news. Jon’s heart is fine. No pulmonary hypertension. An electrocardiogram.
The good news. Jon and Ruth are here for the weekend while Jon resurfaces our deck and puts up a new fence between the deck and the perennial garden.
The not so good news. July 4th is a nightmare of astraphobic dogs and their owners. Us, for example. Plus tonight we also added two new humans to the mix. So Kepler, the Akita, usually calm and quiet, barked and barked. Then Gertie barks. When we put the dogs in their crates, both Gertie and Vega, calm methodical Vega, broke out of their crates, something neither one ever does, never even tries to do. This was during the fireworks part of the evening.
So things are, as Elvis used to say, all shook up. Hopefully by tomorrow they’ll calm down. Of course, Jon will be working on the deck, which is the main way the dogs get in and out of the house. Ah, maybe Sunday or Monday?
Summer Most Heat Moon
The last few days have been cool, more late September than early July. Kate worked 
outside a long time yesterday, clearing weeds out of the third tier of our garden and it looks great. It’s pleasant to work outside when it’s cool, much less so when it’s hot. I sprayed the orchard and the garden, mounded soil around the leeks to blanch them and moved much of what Kate had thrown over the fence.
Jon and Ruthie are on the road right now, headed toward Kansas City (on purpose), then north to Andover. It will be fun to have them here.
Jon’s going to put in a new deck for us. This was arranged long ago, but it will be good for selling the house.
These nights leading up to the 4th of July and the 4th itself are a problem for our thunderphobic (astraphobic) dogs. They inspire those neighbors who like to shoot off fireworks, one batch (not the usual suspects) who set them off around 10 p.m. each night lately. That’s just enough to launch Gertie (our German shorthair) out of her crate.
Click on the poster for its full effect.
Beltane Summer Moon
It’s night time in the exurbs. The full summer moon lights up the neighbors lighting up the sky. With fireworks. Yes, our neighbors have a fascination with fireworks, a fascination that seems to strike them most often around 10 pm. And no, I don’t know why.
We have two dogs with mild thunder phobias and the fireworks often set them whining. I don’t blame them. They make me whine, too. The dogs though can’t know that the neighbors are, for the most part, peaceable and friendly. The other part being the 10 pm fireworks, of course.
They seem to have gone silent. Nope. Another one. Gertie’s upset. The nights around the 4th and the night of the 4th itself are the worst.
Just let Gertie in the bedroom. That’s her safe place when there’s thunder or fireworks. Rigel’s ok if she’s with her sis, Vega. If not, she heads for the small hallway coming in from the garage. Enclosed and dark.
It would be nice to find a place without even these signs of human habitation. Out there. You know. Colorado.