have you planted a bowling ball today?

what are you waiting for?...they don't whine for water or pester for food...never need pruning and subside well in any soil.

My garden is a sulky thing...despite my loving care, it keeps its fists clenched, refusing to thrive, invites rowdy friends in...keeps bad company...disappears with the flimsiest of excuses....so I'll happily take care of anyone who wants to stay and behave themselves.

a little trip down memory lane....and a lizard

This is Laura Marlow today....a new high school graduate...ranch girl....barrel racer from Eastern Oregon....once a neighbor of mine.  I haven't seen her nor been in contact since she was in the second grade.  Her mom sent me her picture and graduation notice. 

.... here are pictures I did of her  ...a colored pencil of her feeding a chicken, and a watercolor of her wearing Jack's hat.

This is a watercolor of chaps her grandfather made for her.  They were adorable...for trim, he cut pieces from a basket ball, so they had a pebbled design.

These are some pictures of Laura wearing the chaps. posing in our chicken house door.

and below she is eating lunch on a cattle drive break...the subject of a poem I wrote, but won't bore you with.

Now, I'm getting nostalgic and am going to add another picture or two.

The printing under the picture came from a calendar the family had made of one of their brandings.  Laura is tending the Rocky Mountain oysters....the first, and last time I ever tasted them.  They're ok if you're on your fifth day of no food.  These came straight from the cow to the fire...tended by a 7 year old with suspect fingers....maybe that's how you're supposed to savor them...I just figured the temperature would do any sterilizing.

This was during the branding...She was all over any horse left standing by himself....she'd shinny up somehow.  One of my favorite pictures of  her.

I was fascinated by Laura's life, because it's exactly what I asked God for, and he dumped me in the mean streets of Detroit.  What on earth was that all about?....I'd have made an amazing cowgirl.

Ok...change of subject.

Out on the left hand corner of my fishpond...northwest corner if you have a directional gene, there is a little gray lizard.  He lives down under the rocks....has been there for a number of years, so I imagine it's pretty nice by now.  Anyway, you aren't going to believe this since you are so well grounded, but I think he's an evolving lizard.  He's not afraid of me, or my voice, or my shadow crossing over him......he sits on his roof and tips his head and looks me straight in the eye.  Obviously I'm supposed to say something, but I become tongue tied.  It's embarrassing, .....I feel like I'm letting humans down, or something.  I wind up stuttering...H..H..Hi, there...it's a nice morning, isn't it?...when I'm sure I'm supposed to say something important enough to be written on the moon.  Well, I just thought I'd mention it.

Mr. Avacado awaits ripening in style....(never make friends with what you will eat...it's so sad)

wow...I've accessed my blog!  amazing...After a year, and a change of passwords, I luckily found where I'd written the new password down.  Blogger was no help...wouldn't just verify me...or better yet, let me make a new password, they simply kept sending info I didn't understand.  They don't seem to realize some people don't speak Blogger.  Finally, when I reached the last step of their tango, they insisted I have "another" email they could use for verification...aaggghhh
moral of this dilemma....keep track of your passwords.  OK...I'm through venting..and anyway, it really was all my fault.

It's been a year since I played around with this blog, and I was struck by how much my great granddaughter has grown....some of her baby pix run down the right hand side of the blog....I'll have to add some current ones.

Here's What I Read

Watermark by Vanitha Sankaran A novel of the middle ages....interesting in the way people lived...touches of the Inquisition. The father in the story is a papermaker in the days when paper was considered, maybe not an evil exactly, but certainly un-necessary.

The Worst Hard Times by Timothy Egan...non-fiction...about the dust storms of the '30s. Unlike Steinbeck's book centered in Oklahoma, this is more to the heart of where these storms did their worst...the Texas area. The devestation was so horrific it's hard to believe I hadn't heard about it before. I started skimming toward the end...enuf is enuf...but the beginning was fascinating.

The duo...The Glass Castle and Half Broke Horses, both by Jeannette Walls Bios of her family....and what a family! Guarnteed to keep you reading.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot non-fiction...gives you something to think about....the ethics of what's yours and what's not. Almost positive you'll learn something you didn't know.

The Kings of the Earth by Jon Clinch story of up state New York....poor, bleak hardluck farm with three bachelor brothers....good reading

Little Bee by Chris Cleeve story of a young Nigerian girl in danger of her life, escaping to London. Again, I learned things and that always makes it a good story for me.

It's perfect spring weather...blue sky, puffy white clouds...cool breeze...sprinkles...no sprinkles...and lots of yellow flowers.

I started this blog two years ago...then took a year off last year....When I tuned in just now...(barely remembering its name) I discovered a written but unpublished post...the one just before this....can't imagine why I didn't publish it. I finished it up just now, adding a picture of the gray squirrel.

I can't stand killing spiders. I just hate breaking their delicate legs, but we both can't live in this house, and we pay the bills.

Some one sent me a list of cute things making the rounds on the internet. One of my favorites is

Dear Noah, We could have sworn you said the ark wasn't leaving until 6. Sincerely, Unicorns

Now doesn't that just break your heart?

Kingdom: Animalia

Class: Mammalia

Order: Rodentia

Family: Sciuridae ....is that not the perfect name for a little squirrel?...scurri-day...well, close enough

walk out back of the dog kennels, down the wooded incline to the path....

make your way through the umkempt, overgrown woods to the tree where the turkeys roost....

turn left, make your way over and around the downed pine...through the marshy spot and on to the big sugar pines.

Look waaaaay up at the top of the one closest to the path and you'll see a large, loosely knit ball of sticks and brush ....looks about three foot across.

It's a gray squirrel nest....many years old. This one has a domed roof and is used to raise babies....although I've seen simpler stick platforms...probably not to raise babies in

When our rain pours down and the chill winds blow I like to think of the little scurri-days all curled up together in their roofted home lined with soft mosses and hair and lichen.

their nests are called dreys....I have no idea why...I'll have to look that up.

We have a scurry of these Western gray tree squirrels... I love to watch them. I've read they are the largest of the tree squrrels, and I think the prettiest....

Their tails are as long or longer than their bodies and banded white, black and gray. The tails on the largest and most furry are beautiful....the mamas use the hair to line their nests.

These squirrels are being displaced in California...our border state some other type of squirrel.....In Washington state grey squirrels are considered "threatened" and in Oregon, "sensitive".....I guess these are warnings on the continuum that leads to endangered.

We have dozens of them in our yard, scurrying around, busily getting food and burying it....chasing each other through the spring sun and the bright yellow forsythia.