Sunday, June 30, 2013

That Which Cannot Be Said

We started the day with a few little tasks checked off my list, and then headed into town where Carm dropped my off at my parents, while he continued on to his mothers. I had a lovely visit with Mom & Dad, and my brother Graham was there as well. We passed the time visiting and eating home-made chicken soup until Carm returned to pick me up. We had brought the chainsaw with us to take down a tree - I hate the chainsaw... but it made short work of the job.

We headed home where we checked off a few more little tasks off the list. One of the things we did was add a metal bar on an angle across the bottom of the screen door. Our old camper had a piece there, and it made it so easy to control the door going in and out of the camper. It was a good "mod"! I've already used it several times.

I can't forget to mention that I saw a pair of swallows checking out the barn this morning. In past years the barn has been full of swallow nests, and by the end of June I wouldn't be able to walk down there without getting bombarded by anxious parents. Last summer I wrote about watching a bunch of fledglings learn how to fly. This year they just haven't been around. I haven't seen them around since one day in the spring. Where have they all gone? I miss watching their aerial acrobatics and hope they are returning.

Kabira was happy to relax tonight after a warm bath this afternoon. All the dogs got a quick shampoo (baby of course) under the hose this afternoon. When we built the house one of the features that we designed was a laundry tub in the garage with hot and cold water. For bath time we attach the hose to the laundry tub facet for a comfortably warm water wash.




FYI - I'm watching an episode of "Hillbilly Handfishin'" before bed tonight. Yup. Them thar fish are caught by hand... I've never watched before, and now that I have, and the novelty has worn off I'm not likely to ever watch it again!


Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.
Victor Hugo