Sunday, May 3, 2020

A Country Morning




I took a selfie the other day to send to Joyce to show her how nice her Christmas present shirt looks. It came out a bit fuzzy, but at my age, that's not a problem. 


Samson has stomach problems often and he's getting old, so when he does number 2, he sort of walks around and it drips. Mark put up this barrier between the dog run and where I sit on my patio and my space has been clean ever since. 


I always loved to sit in this chair on Joyce's veranda, so one day she just gave it to me. Months later, I after I told her how nice my space on the patio is turning out, I mentioned that all I need now is a little table. So, yes, she had one she didn't need and insisted I take it. 


I feel so blessed to have a neighbor like Joyce, helpers like Mark and Ronica, and friends here in the canyon, like Jeanne, who this past week called in a large order of a lot of veggies, fruit, and berries and some other things to one of our grocery stores and then picked it up and delivered it to me

I thought my table needed something on it that the dogs couldn't knock off and break. So I decorated with some rocks. I love to sit out here and have my morning coffee. Afternoon coffee too, fika, as we call it in Sweden. Maybe I should say "they" call it, since I haven't been there for 15 years now.



When Samson comes over to get petted or to interact with me, there's Faith in-between. She rushes over at top speed and muscles her way to get closest to me. This never fails. It's just the kind of dog she is, I've never known another one like her. Lucky for her that Samson is such a kind and patient dog.


Yesterday morning, I drove up to Joyce's barnyard to see the new baby calf. The calf and her mom were in one of the barn-sheds. So I didn't see her. Instead two of the horses came over, looking for a treat. I didn't have any treats, just a lot of pets on their pretty faces and soft muzzles. 




While I was talking to Joyce, her herd showed up and began to work on the weeds in front of her house.


This is the big bull, papa to all the young ones. Except one, which we believe was fathered by the Guernsey bull. Her milk is so different from these, American Milking Devon cows, so much richer and creamier. 


When I came home, I saw something in my lilac bush and drove over to check it out. And there were blooms. This bush didn't bloom at all during the five or six years of our drought. Then, last year, it did and now it's blooming again. I quickly picked a few branches with flowers and drove back up to Joyce's place and gave them to her. 


In my kitchen I was greeted by a cute little house finch sitting outside my window for the longest time, looking straight back at me. They come back every year and I love to listen to them twittering away, happily.











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