stills feel like Saturday even though any day can be Saturday in retirement. Honey doesn't "do" days of the week. She is the only one that earned her salt today. She casts a benign eye on the birds as they feed unless the Grackles start to squabble. Then Deppitty Dawg gives a rush and they scatter. It is not that she loves tranquillity. It has more to do with if there is going to be a murder, she wants in on it. She did manage that today too. A big fat Prairie Dog came scouting for a new colony site. She had it trapped between the swamp cooler and the house. Through persistence she dragged it out and then had it cornered for a good 40 minutes. I wince at it but they are really
rodents non-grata and she gets to be a dog once in awhile. She got a nip in the process but carried on. I went into the house. I came out later and she was just hanging around, though energized. Then she waltzed past me with a little head and little feet sticking out of her mouth. Having captured a prize, she thought I was going to take it away so she was off to stash it. She came back with a dirty nose.
Thayne told me he went to Bill Frank's funeral Friday. His boys, Tom and Ron, are out here a lot helping with brandings and are just great cowboys (men). Bill was 70. He and the boys were out driving their cattle near Bonneville last Monday. The neighbor's bull got in with their cattle. He told the boys to head on with the cattle and he would load the bull to take it to its home and catch up to them. Ron noticed the pickup hadn't moved and rode back to see if there was a problem. The bull had killed Bill.
I took a few photographs of the cropduster and farted around all day-literally. I made a pot of bodacious pea soup last night, enjoyed it for lunch and was expansive in the extreme. I was in triple thunderblast territory. Ah, the happy life of a hermit!
