I love this card, given to me after my good news (lowering tumor markers) from a recent blood test.
Two special “rocks” were included in the gift. Healing rocks. And I do so love rocks! I will hold them close, as I do a special, very old arrowhead. My talismans.
They will accompany me to my future scans.
The phrase at the bottom of the card always makes me smile. Isn’t it great?
The weather here is gorgeous. Every day is beautiful. The smoke is no longer blowing across the lake and the sun is shining.
My Texas family members are back in the classrooms–and the library–now. Yes, they start early but they’re finished by Memorial Day weekend.
When I was a mom with kids of all ages at home all summer long, the first day of school was my favorite day of the year after Christmas and Thanksgiving (which required cooking).
The first day of school only required a loud sigh of relief and celebratory coffee with my buddy Harley Chick.
We discovered this little gem last week and we were so glad we did! We had to rent it, as it’s not available on our streaming subscriptions yet, but it was worth it.
The story–an eccentric man hires his favorite band to come to his remote island to reunite his favorite folk duo–is a sweet one. One critic described the movie’s theme as “learning to let go”.
I don’t want to say anything else for fear of spoiling the story for you, but if you like quiet little movies with endearing characters, this one is for you.
I love sweet corn even more than I love pie. Maybe I should rename the blog.
What you see in this photo is the best corn in the world, grown by Dancing Mandolin Player and her Boyfriend Bob. Decades ago, when we were all young and frisky, DMP and Bob would throw massive “corn parties”. Everyone brought food, but the highlight was the freshly picked corn from the garden.
My personal record is six ears of corn. Believe it or not, this is true.
Those days are long gone, as is most of our energy. But Friday night I devoured four ears. I didn’t want to be piggy.
Boyfriend Bob and Banjo Man hard at work.
I’ve been buying sweet corn this month at Walmart, The Peach Man and Yokes (a northwest grocery chain). None of their corn measured up to what is grown here across the bay. Some of it wasn’t really all that edible and ended up with Dorothy, who wasn’t remotely as fussy about corn as I am.
I will stop buying corn now. I’ve had the best and nothing else will compare. I will wait patiently (sort of) until next summer.
And here’s a little corn music on this summer Monday morning:
The last nine days of our ongoing duck rescue attempts have finally resulted in Dorothy the Duck finding a new home.
It wasn’t easy.
After approximately sixty-seven texts, the lovely Duck Lady arrived Thursday morning with a portable “fence”. The plan was to set it up and tempt her inside with her favorite food. She would have a couple of days of going in and out of the pen before we would capture her.
Look closely and you will see the pen. Dorothy was definitely suspicious the first time, but once Banjo Man sprinkled a handful of canned corn inside she waddled right in for a tasty meal.
The second part of the plan was to lure her inside Saturday morning, the day that she was going to be rehomed. Sure enough, Banjo Man sprinkled the corn in the middle of the pen and, once our duck had waddled toward the corn, he shut the gate.
I was standing by, hiding in the house so she wouldn’t see me. Two people feeding her makes her skittish and we couldn’t risk her scurrying down the hill to the beach. Once she was trapped I came down to help, but I slipped on wet rocks (it was raining) and fell down to my knees under the deck. My pride and my right foot were injured, but I was in Duck Rescue Mode and kept heading to the pen. Thank goodness I had my trusty driftwood walking stick with me!
Dorothy went crazy for a few minutes and we were afraid she would try to fly out. I grabbed one of my Amazon wildlife nets and waved it around.
Right at that moment the sweet Duck Lady arrived. She’d brought a duck to lure lonely Dorothy into a crate, but she’d left the duck and the crate in her car for now.
“I can pick her up,” she announced after surveying the situation. Dorothy was pacing and quacking nervously. This wasn’t the way she wanted to spend her morning.
Pick her up? Huh?
I stood by with my net. Because anything could go wrong, right?
Nothing went wrong.
Dorothy even seemed to enjoy being held.
And check out this picture. Dorothy and the other duck were thrilled to see each other and quacked up a happy storm inside that crate.
I swear Dorothy is smiling.
Three adults and two ducks were very, very happy. Dorothy has gone to a little farm a few miles east of here. She will have three duck friends and a flock of chickens to hang out with.
While I was icing my foot I received a text saying that Dorothy and the other ducks were very happy together and settled in.
All’s well that ends well.
But…this morning I did limp to the front window to make sure that Dorothy hadn’t acted like a homing pigeon and found her way back to us.
The beach was empty. We’ll miss her–a little–but we’re so glad we don’t have to worry about her anymore.
Dorothy has settled into a routine quite nicely, though little does she know how hard I’m working to rehome her.
There are schemes afoot.
She won’t go near the dog crate we borrowed from the local animal shelter, though after five days she has almost touched it with her beak. We feed her in front of it, but she acts like something evil is going to jump out at her. I’d optimistically hoped she would think of it as a safe little bed and waddle in and out.
Not a chance. Not yet. How I am going to drop my new wildlife net (thank you, Amazon) over her is a mystery.
The Duck Lady is going to bring one of her ducks along on Catching Dorothy Day, but we have not yet set a date.
In the meantime, we tempt our funny visitor with duck food. She always quacks her thanks, letting me get within two feet of her twice a day (mealtimes). When she hears the back door open she hurries along the beach and waddles up the hill as fast as her little legs can take her. Comical!
I took a break from farm chores Wednesday to visit with two friends on the other side of the bay. We drank sun tea, ate blackberry-topped cheesecake bars, admired the masses of flowers in beautiful pots and told each other hilarious stories. I really hope another “Porch Session” is in my future, though my own porch has no flowers.
I will have to buy some.
I couldn’t resist taking a picture of “Henry’s Roses”, named after the elderly gentleman who grew them for decades.
Alas, I was not born with the gardening gene. But every single one of my friends has it.
Dorothy shows no signs of going anywhere. She likes to keep me company when I am sitting down at the beach.
Here’s something else that kept me company yesterday.
He was under the umbrella when I opened it and almost fell on my head when he fell down. Is it a toad? A frog? Whatever it is, I don’t want it falling on me.
What I didn’t know was that there was a smaller one clinging to the pole as I sat underneath the umbrella for a couple of hours. I’m glad I wore my hat.
Just in case.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t need frogs in my hair.
Back to the duck…
I have found a lovely, duck-filled home for her. The “duck lady” and I have been trying to find a good day for catching Dorothy and transporting her to her new life with other duck friends.
Catching her is not going to be easy. I’ve googled “how to catch a duck” and am quite intimidated. I even ordered a long-handled wildlife net on Amazon (to be delivered Wednesday). This process could take more energy than Banjo Man and I are capable of mustering, so we’re counting on the duck lady’s skills.
She is also bringing one of her ducks to attract Dorothy into net-wielding distance.
In the meantime we’ve taught “our” duck to come up the hill to eat her dinner on the flat area in front of the house. She waddles up the slope when she hears the lower porch door open and Banjo Man bangs on a metal cup. Hopefully that is where the duck-catching-extravaganza will take place, on flat land and away from the lake.
She clearly belongs in a barnyard. How did she get here? No idea, unless someone dumped her by boat.
Will always urges us into the kayaks for an annual trip around the point to peaceful Forest Service waters. There is so much construction going on east of us and I was anxious to gawk at all the changes. Neighbors are doing a massive remodel. Other neighbors have blasted a beach out of a rock cliff and have erected stone walls.
Gawking is a lot easier from the water. Just ask the people on the pontoon boats who slowly cruise past our house and point.
I used to wave.
We had a lovely time on the water until dark clouds and the sound of distant thunder made us paddle faster towards home.
Yesterday was Banjo Man’s birthday! We celebrated on Tuesday by going out to lunch with special friends. Afterwards we stopped to run an errand and then the car wouldn’t start back up. Dead battery! Dealing with AAA was a two-hour nightmare, so Banjo Man called an auto repair place to come jump our battery. They had closed ten minutes before our call, but a nice young man drove over and helped us anyway.
There would be no more errands done after that. According to the sign at the grocery store, it was 98 degrees outside, plus we didn’t dare turn off the car.
Our trip home was detoured into a maze of farm country roads due to a semi and its metal cargo completely blocking Highway 200. It would not be open until after 10 PM, I learned the next day.
Despite everything, Banjo Man loved his birthday trip to town, his birthday burger and Patty’s chocolate chip cookies for dessert. He wouldn’t let us sing to him.
Yesterday the car started right up, so we headed to Clark Fork to visit the Post Office, get gas, drop books off at the library and take our garbage to the dump.
I defrosted peaches, baked an angel food cake and took a nap. A long nap.
And now it’s August. We are alone, except for our beachfront guest. Dorothy the Duck is still here, though I have found a good home for her. We’re just waiting for Dorothy’s new owner to tell us when she is coming to pick her up.
Well, the last of the kids has returned to Texas. After six weeks of fun and family time, Banjo Man and I are now alone.
With a duck.
More about that tomorrow.
Summer weather has kicked in, as of Monday evening, with temps of 90 and higher. Will the water warm up enough so I will actually swim?
Maybe.
No promises.
Banjo Man’s birthday is tomorrow. Today we’re going to celebrate with friends by having lunch in town. We haven’t seen them yet this summer, so we are so looking forward to catching up! Tomorrow I will bake an angel food cake (haven’t done that yet this summer either) and will serve it with sliced peaches as I sing “Happy Birthday” on the dock.
With a duck.
Dorothy has become rather attached to Banjo Man, so maybe she’ll even quack along.
is there any more pie? 