The M/W Homestead, aka the Old Dobson Place |
It was fortuitous – fortuitous, I say – that I did not remove the electric blanket from the bed. It was 57 this morning, and it felt cold. In fact, the last several days have been cooler, but the forecast promises warmer days.
Speculation abounds as to whether or not we’ll have triple-digit days this summer. People always talk about the weather. It used to be a safe topic of conversation. Not sure any more.
At 2:30 a.m., I was awakened by coyotes yodeling nearby. At 4:30, a flicker ratta-tat-tatted on the house. At 6:30, the crop duster began work in this region. Who says country life is quiet? Well, it is much of the time.
Taken from the north end of the ridge |
Mike took a spill on his bicycle the other day, and yesterday morning he decided a dip in the Jacuzzi would be just the thing to quiet his aches. I guess I failed to tell him that it wasn’t working. (We don’t use it often.) Fixing and cleaning it became an immediate priority. I felt like we had done a day’s work by 8:00 a.m., but at least we were successful.
Taken from the canyon rim behind farmhouse |
Later in the morning, we rode the 4-wheeler to the end of the ridge. We rode out on the road and returned across the fields, but when we came to the dip onto Plank’s old place, it appeared to be a mud hole, so we decided not to chance it and backtracked to the road.
Well,
I must get started with the day’s weeding. KW
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