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Yep, I’m traveling again. A very short trip. A trip by car.
Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to determine where.
None of you friends or family who know the location are allowed to play. That simply wouldn’t be fair.
Here are the clues:
1) It is within a three to six hour driving range from L’Anse, Michigan, our fair home.
2) You can see one of the Great Lakes from the hotel.
3) This place was once home to more millionaires (per capita) than any other city in the world.
4) If you are eating any grain today, it probably visited this city.
5) It has very little smog pollution.
6) 3.5 million tourists visit per year. And I guess that means I’m one of them.
7) The average snowfall is 77.6 inches. That’s not much.
8) The first European to visit the area was supposedly from France. (ha ha, that’s not much of a clue!) You can’t know his name, because you would be able to google it too easily. He was lured by stories told by the natives of the Western Sea. Probably the Great Salt Lake in Utah. No, I’m not that far from home.
9) I’ll be home Sunday.
10) The town really has lovely hotels, restaurants, coffee shops!, book stores and places to explore the Great Outdoors.
You’ll see photos tomorrow! And maybe the next day! Good luck with the guessing game.
The garden
This morning I was minding my own business in the garden. Weeding the carrots. Checking on the progress of the plants. Watering. You know, the usual garden chores at the beginning of July.
When suddenly it seemed like you could hear the plants murmuring, “thank you, thank you for watering us, thank you for weeding us” in some sort of plant-language that comes without words or sentences or paragraphs or exclamation points.
Of course that led to the next idea. Why not let the plants write this blog? I am going to step out of the way and attempt to let the plants utilize these typing fingers. Let’s see if this works.
Rounding curves of tiny carrots
Carrots: Oh! We feel so good this morning. Even though that hose water felt so icy pounding against our green tops. Water feels so good as it swims down to our roots. Even though we’re lying flattened to the ground now from the deluge, we’re pulling in that lovely moisture and pretty soon we’ll be standing straight up and growing growing growing toward that sun. It is hard to grow underneath that spruce tree though. That’s why we never get very big. The spruce sucks up the water and shades us and it’s hard to grow as big as we could. But we like our sweet little selves. We’re orange fingerlings. Thank you for the water.
Squash (buttercup, butternut or acorn)
Squash: You’re dreaming of late December when you gather me from your food room in basement, bring me upstairs, split me wide open, scoop out the baby-seeds and roast me in your oven, aren’t you? It’s a long long time until then. A whole lifetime. Don’t let those taste buds get too impatient. I’m gathering sunlight and moisture, ready to send out runners in all directions. Ready to ripen from tiny green nubs to light green squash and finally harden into a ready-to-eat squash in the early September harvest.
Pea jungle
Peas: We’re racing, racing, racing toward the top of the pea fence! We’re five feet in the sky! We’re heading up! We’re blooming! We’re excited! We have so much energy we can’t contain it! We’re happy! We can’t talk any more! The sky is calling!
Brussels sprouts
Brussels sprouts: Hello. I don’t know about those peas. This is a slow world. We’re moving slowly. The roots are what is important. We’re pushing fingers of roots deep into the soil. We like the moonlight. Our roots grow up and down. The upper root sprouts nubs that grow into small round balls. I know you enjoy us. We are glad. Please do not wait to pick us until it’s 35 degrees, as we do not like your impatience and frozen fingers. We do not mind frost. But we do not like bitching. Thank you.
Peppers put a little oo-la-la! in our lives
Peppers: Hola! Que pasa, bebe? What’s happening? You like the spice and the heat of our people, si? You like the way your tongue and lips and mouth sizzle when you bite into our amigo cayenne, eh? We add the dash of flame to heaten up you northerners. You’re way too far from the equator, bebe. Come down and see us growing in Mexico and we’ll show you a good time. Ole!
A magnificent collard row
Collards: Ahhhm so glad you eat collards here in the Upper Peninsula. Why don’t your neighbors like us? Why don’t most people like us here? They simply don’t know what they’re missing! We’re delectable greens, aren’t we? Don’t you just adore us with black eyed peas? Don’t we grow admirably? The folks down in the deep south looooooove us to death. Literally.
Looking down into a tomato-caged world
Tomatoes: Thank goodness for your husband. That’s all we can say. He cares about us. We’ve been suffering with that die-back fungus the last few years where our lower branches simply die off early. And look at all the effort he put into finding some help for us! That organic copper spray recommended by your greenhouse friend is a good try. We’re sorry the rain washed it off too soon and you couldn’t re-apply it immediately. But he keeps following the directions and spritzing us every 7-10 days. And look how diligently he waters us. (Unlike some people we know, who shall remain nameless, who would probably allow us to wilt over in the heat thoughtlessly.) I suppose it’s because he loves us so much.
We tomatoes shall share a secret. This Pico de Gallo recipe comes via Sudha. Chop the veggies as fine or chunky as you prefer. Use as many of the peppers, onions and other ingredients as you like.
Tomatoes (start with 2-3)
Green and/or red peppers
1 avocado
diced onion (it may seem strong at first, but it mellows in the frig)
cilantro
fresh lime
jalapeno or chili pepper (don’t use too much. just some to “hotten” it up)
garlic
pinch of salt
Mix in advance so the flavors have time to mingle. Serve over rice and beans, or with chips, or in any Mexican recipe.
Enjoy! (Also hope you enjoyed the Veggie Speak. Maybe they should get another Guest Blog some time?)
No time for sunning lazily on a Lake Superior rock, watching the waves lap in and out, in and out. No time for enthusiastically snapping photos, attempting to capture ordinary every day objects at odd angles and views.
No. Because of this perceived lack of time, this qualifies as semi-cheating blog. Even though the outdoor commitment has been accomplished for today (walked a mile or two with my friend Lyn, picked spinach and lettuce in the garden, ate dinner outside on the deck tonight as the temperatures have unexpectedly soared back to the upper 70′s) there are no new photos to post from today’s activities.
Our cold and ripply Lake Superior
These pictures were taken a couple days ago, in Baraga, on the way to Cindy’s house. I parked the car next to the lake and sat along her shore feeling the cool wind blowing while simultaneously soaking up the warm sun.
It’s a peaceful feeling sitting by the lake, admiring the ancient stones.
Glistening rock
But sometimes we have no idle minutes to dangle our fingers into the cold lake. Sometimes we need to scurry from errand to appointment to visit to commitment. At times like this, when we think there’s too much to accomplish, we need to murmur to our energized thoughts, “Slow down. Don’t worry. We’ll get everything done. Everything that needs to get done will get done.”
The umbrella of a tree reaches out to almost touch the waves
So today has been a deep breathing type of day in between “doings”. Deep breathing was especially required when I backed up a little close to a parked SUV behind my car. The almost-hit happened because I was staring riveted at two perfectly matched sandals sitting in someone’s driveway. My mind was occupied trying to figure out why the sandals were positioned just so. There was a story behind those sandals. There had to be. Or at least a photo opportunity. My reverie was rudely interrupted upon noticing the SUV a foot from my tail lights.
But no time for any more reverie on this blog. A half dozen things still need to be done before the moon rises in the night sky. May all of you enjoy peaceful moments with nature in between the business of your days. May you practice deep breathing if things get too hectic. Breathe in your memory of that day of the lake; breathe out your feelings of too many things to check off your list.
Raspberries in a row (ok, they're from the store. Wild raspberries aren't yet ripe.)
Yesterday the full moon glowed round and white in the night sky. I’m assuming it did. Probably some of you might verify this. The calendar announced it was the full moon. But I haven’t even glimpsed Ms. Raspberry Moon since maybe last weekend.
The Anishinabe (Ojibway) call this July moon “The Raspberry Moon”. Last month was the Strawberry Moon. And next month is simply “The Berry Moon.” As we discussed last month, I think the berry ripening seasons have shifted over the years. Or else the moon-namers came from more southern climates.
We Upper Peninsula folks have been experiencing ripening wild strawberries for a couple weeks now. The cultivated berries are ready to be picked on local farms. The red raspberries won’t stain our fingers and lips and tongues until late July or early August. And the wild blueberries and huckleberries burst into peak flavor some time next month.
Nonetheless, in an attempt to honor the “Raspberry Moon” I happily discovered some raspberries in the refrigerator and decided to photograph them outside yesterday. Does this qualify as “playing with your food”?
Does this look like a Raspberry Moon?
OK, moving on to today’s outdoor adventure. I enjoyed another day outside with friends! This time my friend Jennifer (and one of her twin daughters) and I sat outside her house by the Ravine River. We sipped coffee brewed with freshly ground beans and made with a french press. It was another awesome magical time.
Doesn't it look like a peaceful scene sipping coffee by the river?
We haven’t sipped coffee together since maybe last Thanksgiving, so this felt like precious time together. Her daughters are growing up so quickly it’s hard to believe they will start 8th grade next fall. One of the twins opted to stay inside, but Winter and her mom posed for this photo inside the screened-in tent when the mosquitoes started lunching on the coffee drinkers.
Jen and Winter
It’s always strange this time of year. It always feels like sometime in early July the energy gets much more intense. Old friends start coming out of the woodwork, so to speak. People you haven’t seen in the previous months suddenly call and want to get together. It happens every year. Suddenly you don’t have enough hours in the day. The weeks start to fast-forward really fast, propelling rapidly through summer. Before you know it, the August Berry Moon will be rising.
I’m still hoping to glimpse the Raspberry Moon. However, if you have to stay up until past 10:30 when it gets dark to glimpse her…it probably won’t happen. It’s 9:30 p.m. and I’m already thinking bedtime.
Kenzie having an outdoor adventure
Oh what a lovely outdoor time today! The best kind. The kind where you sit outside with old friends and catch up on years which are sailing by on the waves of time.
Even before I reached the outdoor visit, the day brought many old friends into contact. First Mary and John, then Nancy, followed by Sonya, TJ, Evey, Susan and Chrissie. Faces from the near and distant past kept beaming in with beautiful smiles.
Then it was time to drive to Cindy’s house. Some of you blog readers (especially the readers of comments) may already know Cindy Lou. She comments quite regularly. However, we haven’t even seen each other face-to-face in months and months. Certainly not since the beginning of this blog. Even though we live across the bay from one another and we drive by her house every time we travel to Houghton, we rarely run into one another.
- Kenzie, Jen and Cindy
My daughter, Kiah, and Cindy’s daughter, Jen met in Junior High band. They became close friends in junior high, doing so many different things together. So of course I met Cindy during those years of transporting Kiah in and out of town. However, in the last several years since the girls graduated and moved away to the big cities, we’ve rarely seen one another. It’s been one of the joys of this blog to be connecting again.
Happy rock face with plants growing in its head
AND…as you’ve already gathered by looking at this pictures…Jen has married and had a little girl in the ensuing years. Isn’t Kenzie adorable? Her blond curls are so cute. And just look at the following photo:
Kenzie just plopped briefly on her patient doggie
We chatted and caught up on dozens of stories and happenings during our time together. Kenzie kept running off in one direction or another with Mom Jen (or sometimes Grandma Cindy) in hot pursuit. She fell–plop!–into a big silver canning pot at one point and screwed up her face to protest. Grandma rescued her immediately, but not until after we all laughed at her antics.
Piled rock garden wall
Besides chatting, we needed to look at Cindy’s gardens. She’s another great gardener. There are treasures spread out all around her house and property. Don’t you like this piled rock garden wall? Doesn’t it look soothing? I am wondering how she keeps her dogs from knocking them down…
Cindy's garden with wagon wheels in the back
And finally, just because we can, another close-up photo of a flower. I forget the name. If Cindy shares the name in a comment, you’ll see it beneath the beautiful garden flower. Love the delicate purple strands.
Ode to purple (Cindy says it is a Bachelor Button)
Before weeding. Isn't it a mess?
To weed or not to weed. That is the question.
I’m sure many of you are raising your eyebrows and thinking, “What’s she talking about now? Of course you must weed your garden! Otherwise the weeds will take over the vegetables and pretty soon there will be a terrible mess.”
Yes, yes. Those facts are known. It is the truth. The garden must generally be weeded. (Plus, our garden sits squarely in front of our house. It has to look respectable for visitors.)
But I have experienced moral pondering for many years. How can we simply, randomly and brutally pull up certain plants in order to make room for other plants? Who are we to determine that something like this delicious and precious wood sorrel shouldn’t exist in our soil?
Ahhh, lovely sour-tasting wood sorrel growing in between the beets and kale!
Each plant (or weed) growing in the garden soil contains beauty of some sort. Some have medicinal value; others nutritional punch. Some bloom with pretty wildflowers. Others, like the quack grass, probably have some sort of value that I can’t fathom right now. Perhaps their roots work up the soil, breaking up dense clods. (Just a guess!)
Some years I’ve grumbled about the morals and ethics of weeding the entire summer while diligently pulling up the weeds.
Not any more! Instead this is the new view: in creating a painting you choose certain colors from your palette and refuse others. In writing, you cull your words and edit to express just the right sentiment. (Well, ideally we edit. Sometimes we just create a garden of words, weeds and all.) Creation generally demands we choose some things and reject others.
Therefore, the garden is an act of cultivated creation and weeding simply enhances that which we choose to plant. Hope that makes sense to the readers, who probably knew this without thinking philosophically about it at all. In other words, the beautiful wood sorrel can be appreciated and admired and loved growing along the shed. It is not allowed in the creation of the garden. Unless we plan to add it to our tossed salads. Then it can remain growing helter-skelter between the more “civilized” crops like peas and carrots. The same goes for lambs-quarter. It shall not be plucked!
The weeded garden! (OK, I left that lambs-quarter in. Dinner this week.)
Not only do we have vegetables growing in the garden, we also have three flowering plants. These were gifts to us from a friend who owns a greenhouse. They are looking over all the vegetables to make sure everything is growing properly.
Tenderly blooming open
I haven’t posted hardly any flower photos in more than a week, so it’s time so get up close and personal with one today. This variety is called Rudbeckia. It is the blooming season, you know!
Blooming wide open
Sunset over the Keweenaw Bay on the 4th of July
Before we even get to the subject of fireworks (human or ant) let’s enjoy a peaceful moment. Look at that sunset in the photo above. Isn’t it beautiful? Calming? Lovely?
We drove over to Baraga about 9:30 p.m. last night. I had a yogurt strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone which dripped ice cream all over the hands while trying to take the following photo. It’s a wonder there’s not smears of frozen strawberry yogurt all over the image.
Family after family, campfire after campfire, as folks line up along the bay to watch the fireworks
Hundreds of people milled everywhere, waiting for the fireworks. Along the Keweenaw Bay in every imaginable spot. By the park. Over behind the marina. On Sand Point. Half the community turned out to watch the firework display.
It didn’t start until 11 p.m. We were yawning in the car, but our cameras were ready. A family from Chassell (a town to the north of us) with relatives from Tennessee surrounded our car. We were entertained. Dozens and dozens of private pre-show fireworks boomed off everywhere. We live on a Native American reservation, so fireworks are readily available. Big ones. At one point we sat surrounded by smoke and fireworks, waiting for the main attraction.
Are you ready for the lovely firework photos? Yes?
Well you’re not going to see any here.
You may see something that vaguely resembles a “light show in the sky” but it would be a stretch to call them “fireworks”. My camera simply wouldn’t register anything other than a blur. So let’s call the following images “art” instead.
Here are some “art” shots.
Musical notes on the horizon (quarter notes?)
Modern art dots in the black sky
My personal favorite 
Can anyone else see Tinker Bell? or have I lost it?
Oh, OK. You’re wondering if there is anything half-way resembling “real” fireworks. Not really. But here’s a shot that almost captures the essence of the light show that entertained hundreds of us during the 4th of July celebration in Baraga last night:
Fireworks!
And now it’s time to share about the Ant Fireworks.
This morning we were splitting up a truckload of firewood, as usual. We are really roaring through that huge pile of wood with, maybe, only four truckloads left to split and haul and stack. We decided to split some cedar kindling today. Easy, right? Cedar cuts like a knife through butter. It’s a breeze to split.
We split maybe a half dozen. Then hauled another log onto the splitter…and…broke it open…and hundreds of ants burst out of that log. Red ants. Fire ants. Biting ants.
You should be glad you don’t have any pictures of what happened next. The ants started crawling up our jeans, in our shirts, under our sleeves. We (well, mostly me) started jumping and swatting and trying to kill the fiercely biting red ants which were attempting to bite and sting and attach to our skin.
Between the noise of our yelps as the ants bit and the streaming ants scattering all over it looked like massive fireworks! And yes, I had to take my jeans off in the driveway, hoping to high heaven that no one would choose this particular moment to come visit. Off came the jeans! Off came the shoes! Off came the socks!
And finally the Ant Fireworks stopped.
I’m hoping never to personally experience ant fireworks of that nature again. As for firework “art”…or maybe real firework photos!…we’ll try again next 4th of July.
Hope everyone enjoyed their holiday weekend.
Lined up along the curb to watch the parade
It’s a big exciting day in the county. Time for the Lumberjack Days Parade in Baraga. Barry had to take pictures for the local newspaper, so I tagged along. I usually tag along.
There’s often old friends with whom to chat, sometimes people you haven’t seen for ten years. There’s fire engines screaming and children covering their ears, hot sun beating down on the sidewalks, free popcorn, and pink and blue cotton candy for sale.
In front of the American Legion, a crowd gathers to drink beer and enjoy a cook-out. The smells are so enticing. It’s the Upper Peninsula’s version of Norman Rockwell Americana. Baraga’s population, as of the 2000 census, is 1,285. The larger Baraga County encompasses about 8,500 folks.
A horse's nose
Before the parade starts Barry needs to get pictures of the line-up. Close-ups of the people on floats. Queen candidate shots. Usually I stand around and feel somewhat awkward, but today there was a mission. The blog. What pictures to take?
“I want a picture of a horse’s nose,” I announced to Barry. He probably rolled his eyes but politely replied, “There’s sure to be horses around!” Immediately following that statement, a horse appeared. It’s owner was feeding it hay. The horse’s name is Misty.
The Little Mermaid on her float
The theme of this year’s parade was “Movies, Movies, Movies…the Baraga County Oscars”. At least a half dozen movie-themed floats laden with dressed-up characters passed by. Isn’t the Little Mermaid cute?
Our friend, John, insisted I take a picture of the red fancy fire trucks. He said, “The blog readers will want to see pictures of fire trucks!” He nudged me out in front as the first engines rolled by. Unfortunately, they all came out blurry. Sorry.
American Legion Honor Guard
Are we down far enough in the blog that I can complain a little bit? The parade was lovely. But I got a tad bit grouchy. Shhh, you’re not suppose to say that on the 4th of July.
Here was the problem: It’s relatively easy to take photos out in nature. You peer quietly into the core of a wildflower or into the eyes of a dog or at a seaweed dangling precociously over a sand bank.
In a crowd of screaming, laughing, jostling, happy parade-goers it’s another story. I’m way too shy about asking up-front, “Can I take your picture?” like Barry does. He’s doing it for the newspaper, and has done it for three decades. So I had to sneak photos. Or indirectly attempt to find the perfect in-focus shot. It was so challenging.
Little girl with arms wide open for candy. "More, more!"
You know how sometimes you’re in a big crowd of people and everything flows beautifully and you feel like you fit in? And how other times you feel maybe a bit more shy or quiet or nervous or reclusive? Today was one of those days.
I don’t think anyone else in all of Baraga was feeling shy or quiet.
A member of the Baraga County Gymnastic Club flips backwards into a tumbling routine
Fireworks start about 10:30. We’re debating whether to drive all the way back into town for the spectacular light show over the bay. Should we stay home or should we go? Stay tuned tomorrow to find out!
Beautiful green of the creek in the ravine
Shhh….there’s no dogs around today, are there? Since they’re back at home, I’ll tell you about what we saw in the ravine yesterday. First of all, I LOVE this ravine. It’s such a special place. It looks like a green wide expansive park through which flows a beautiful moving stream. In mid-summer, it often almost dries up. Right now, after all this rain, it’s a roaring little river with mini-waterfalls.
Fascinating inner circle of Fern
Tall ferns grow majestically here. So do giant mosquitoes. Here’s the secret to walking in the woods at this time of year: Walk. You’re safe if you’re walking. If you stop to, say, scratch, or take a photo, or pet a dog, you’re in trouble. The mosquitoes dive-bomb in with their radar-like accuracy for a blood-feast. Just keep walking at a steady pace, and they generally stay at bay.
Across the road from the ravine grows a massive thimbleberry patch. About four or five years ago the blossoms multiplied beyond imagination and grew fat red berries. Enough to make jam. Imagine that! It takes so many thimbleberries to cook up jam that you need an active patch. I became blissed-out picking maybe two or three quarts of lovely berries, lost in thimbleberry plants which grew over the head. Do you think these plants will produce much this year?
Hmmm...doesn't look like too many blossoms in the patch, does it?
I promised you a slug photo, right? The picture of the tentacled fellow still isn’t ideal, but it shows you the creatures which have appeared all over the woods in the aftermath of the days of rain. There are slugs on the trees, slugs on the plants, slugs on the wildflowers, slugs on the car…well, you get the idea. This slug was crossing the road yesterday, aiming for the other side. Hope no crazed driver (like myself, trying to get the dog home yesterday) ran it over.
Slug
Very odd ant hills
Perhaps some naturalists can share with us why the ants suddenly began constructing skyscrapers. Instead of their usual ground-level rounded hill condominiums. It probably had something to do with the rain. This morning, upon going outside, I noticed dozens of upward-built ant hills. Perhaps, sodden by the many days of rain, they determined to save the queen by building upward. (In a sudden moment of absolute memory loss, I googled “Do ants have queens?” and learned that, yes, of course, indeed they do. They also don’t have lungs. Want to read more about ants? Try this website.)
Today’s outdoor activity consisted of a) a ten minute wander outside this morning, b) a lovely chat on the telephone on the deck for a half hour with an friend from gaia.com. His name is Ben and we’ve never chatted before. He was also sitting outside on his deck. Very satisfying. And c) unloading the truck and stacking the wood in the wood pile this evening.
But in between my friends, Jan and Joanne, and I enjoyed a thoroughly lovely tea party! Yes! I know it’s not an outdoor adventure, but we did have to open the door and walk outside to get to our car in order to drive up to Houghton. We went to the Four Seasons Tea Shop and experienced the most delicious tea, salads, croissants, wraps, soups and sweets. Oh luscious. We all ordered something different and divvied up the food into thirds so we could all sample each of the offerings. We’ve been trying to arrange this trip for more than a year. Thank goodness it worked out today!
Jan, Joanne and Kathy with their little fingers up in the air like proper tea drinkers
I had some unexpected company today on my walk. You know how you’re kind of meandering down the road, thinking about where you might go and what you might photograph…when suddenly…two half-way large dogs are barrelling toward you barking feisty with a gleam in their eyes and jumping all around.
Meet two of the neighbors. Let's call them Brownie & Whitey.
Not only do they leap up onto your rain pants, they also lick and nuzzle and prance. Then they proceed to follow you wherever you go.
You, of course, are not sure you want the two dogs to accompany you. At least not in the beginning. You think they should stay in their own front lawn, thank you. You have big plans to travel waaaaay up the ravine in the woods. These plans do not include panting galloping dogs.
Meet Brownie. Oh look at that face.
You say sternly, “Sit! Stay home! Go home!” and wave your arms wildly in the direction of their little house, but they blithely ignore you. So along they come, jumping and panting wildly and joyous to be exploring the woods.
The first time you try to take a picture of…say…a delicate wildflower…forget it! One dog nuzzles and jars your camera. The other knocks your arm and almost sends you sprawling. Guess it’s not a day for taking pics of wildflowers. It’s a day for the dogs.
Awww, doesn't he look calm and obedient? Don't be deceived!
You vary in between wishing they would just go home, please, and isn’t this a novel experience? You point out interesting sights to them, but they leap into the pond and splash water in all directions.
Isn't Whitey having fun?
We wandered for a good hour through the ravines (maybe those photos shall be posted tomorrow, including the elusive slug). It was interesting. The quieter I got, just meandering without much mental thought, the quieter the dogs became. We all became reflective. Enjoying the afternoon. Happy that the rain ceased to fall. Although, seriously, perhaps the dogs wouldn’t care two whits if it was raining or dry.
Brownie in a more reflective pose
Do you wonder their “real” names? It’s been so many years since we’ve had dogs. Our first dog, actually our first “child”, was a black lab back in the late ’70′s. It’s name was Buck, or Bucky, if you felt endeared to him. He was a “chowder-head” like these two, galloping around with too-big feet, licking crazily, jumping up in all the wrong places. Our second dog may have been half-coyote. She was a brown and white beauty named Tasha who howled when the moon was full. My grandma was so horrified by the thought of part-coyote lineage she suggested we get rid of Tasha when our baby was born. We, of course, felt hurt by the mere suggestion of such indignity. We were only in our 20′s. Our kids better not have any half-coyotes around any future grandchildren.
Whitey gnaws on a branch, just for fun
Back to today’s story. I started up the road toward our house. The dogs followed. No, this behavior needed to stop, now. I knocked on the neighbor’s door. No answer. Knocked again. No answer. The dogs were apparently coming home with me.
I must admit to getting a little bit grouchy at this point. Dogs, go home! NOW! They jumped up and licked happily. I decided to ignore them, in hopes they would turn around toward their own happy front yard.
Eventually, Brownie did. Sigh of relief. But Whitey was coming home to live. No turning that one around.
I hatched up a brilliant plan upon arriving in the driveway. The keys were in the car. So I jumped in the car, turned around and sped back down the road. Whitey ran in hot pursuit. Until…finally…he ran out of steam and collapsed in the woods.
I turned around and came home, smiling happily, thinking: Ah ha! What an outdoor adventure! “This blog is going to the dogs…”
