Hello, I know, I’m late. I spent the morning making cookies to satisfy the cookie monsters we happily call our WOOFERs ! Since I don’t do anything too fast ( In fact I really don’t do much of anything if I really think about it ) I do need to keep my brain working in a daily routine that dictates ( and Greg, the back police enforces) how little I am allowed to do. The cookies are apparently pretty good….there were no complaints as the eating team vacuumed up even the crumbs and then woefully complained about the several thousand calories they had inhaled.
The old Ford, our beaten up, sadly dented farm truck is happily over laden with seasonal firewood. . Quatre Ginger and Greg had taken a field trip ( literally !) and our reserve team were re introduced to the big, the bigger and the BIGGEST chain saws. Little Ginger challenged but undaunted took up the biggest and quickly recognised that it was nearly as big as her, perhaps the mini model might be more size appropriate ? For Quatre, the bigger the challenge the more fun she will have. The heavier the task, the bigger her smile…. and it wasn’t long before chainsaws were whirring, sawdust was flying, and the intrepid team were loading little branches and hefty logs into the bed of the waiting farm truck. Thankfully there will be wood smoke curling into the sky and we’ll be snug and dry through the Winter months…but there was some aching muscles and pain fuelled grimaces as the reserve team surfaced for breakfast. Thanks team, we are glad you are around.
The rusting yellow dinosaur has resurrected itself and all without the anticipated new ignition switch ! Forever after to be affectionately known as Lazarus, the backhoe that came back from the backhoe graveyard shuddered growled into life…and then died again…it’s only a guess but instinct tells me that words unused in the dictionary and worthy of the 25 cent tax on swearing were muttered…but no one is telling… now what ? Thankfully there isn’t much that Greg can’t fix, alive and sick or mechanical and dead ; Greg realized that there was no hydraulic oil in the new hose that he had installed and poor ugly Lazarus was thirsty. Without oil, that rusty yellow backhoe was going nowhere and it wasn’t long, (after an infusion of Biblical proportions) before Lazarus was almost as good as (nearly) new. ….and, thankfully, out of my horse yard.
Ginger got a virtual scalping yesterday! A beautiful 18 inch black braid in a Ziploc baggie was her trophy as she returned after a visit to our local hairdresser. Her worthy intention is to donate the contents of the baggie to Locks of Love, a charitable concern that creates wigs for cancer patients. Ginger, minus her flowing braid became the ranch diva as she posed for photographs to commemorate her scalping. Her makeover is clearly going to take a little time to become “the norm”, I’m confident for both us and her !
Well, another day and it’s time I brought this diary entry to a close…..Take care, keep safe and keep us in your thoughts. M
The old Ford, our beaten up, sadly dented farm truck is happily over laden with seasonal firewood. . Quatre Ginger and Greg had taken a field trip ( literally !) and our reserve team were re introduced to the big, the bigger and the BIGGEST chain saws. Little Ginger challenged but undaunted took up the biggest and quickly recognised that it was nearly as big as her, perhaps the mini model might be more size appropriate ? For Quatre, the bigger the challenge the more fun she will have. The heavier the task, the bigger her smile…. and it wasn’t long before chainsaws were whirring, sawdust was flying, and the intrepid team were loading little branches and hefty logs into the bed of the waiting farm truck. Thankfully there will be wood smoke curling into the sky and we’ll be snug and dry through the Winter months…but there was some aching muscles and pain fuelled grimaces as the reserve team surfaced for breakfast. Thanks team, we are glad you are around.
The rusting yellow dinosaur has resurrected itself and all without the anticipated new ignition switch ! Forever after to be affectionately known as Lazarus, the backhoe that came back from the backhoe graveyard shuddered growled into life…and then died again…it’s only a guess but instinct tells me that words unused in the dictionary and worthy of the 25 cent tax on swearing were muttered…but no one is telling… now what ? Thankfully there isn’t much that Greg can’t fix, alive and sick or mechanical and dead ; Greg realized that there was no hydraulic oil in the new hose that he had installed and poor ugly Lazarus was thirsty. Without oil, that rusty yellow backhoe was going nowhere and it wasn’t long, (after an infusion of Biblical proportions) before Lazarus was almost as good as (nearly) new. ….and, thankfully, out of my horse yard.
Ginger got a virtual scalping yesterday! A beautiful 18 inch black braid in a Ziploc baggie was her trophy as she returned after a visit to our local hairdresser. Her worthy intention is to donate the contents of the baggie to Locks of Love, a charitable concern that creates wigs for cancer patients. Ginger, minus her flowing braid became the ranch diva as she posed for photographs to commemorate her scalping. Her makeover is clearly going to take a little time to become “the norm”, I’m confident for both us and her !
Well, another day and it’s time I brought this diary entry to a close…..Take care, keep safe and keep us in your thoughts. M
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