Monday-Morning Minutiae

 

It did not rain yesterday or the day before, but the daily watering process does create some magnificent images among the flowers and their greenery. 

And, there's much more to come because the hose will be busy for the next several dry days.  

Plus, more color, of the summer variety, will continue to add lovely touches to the landscape. 

And, have I possibly mentioned how much I love our paved road.  This county infrastructure improvement has allowed me to enjoy the brilliance of roadside flowers, which, in past years, have been covered with several layers of dust. 

Actually, until this year, I have never noticed most of the colorful flowers and shrubs which are adding so much enjoyment to the overall scene. 

Once again, thank you county workers for this much appreciated improvement.  More color.  Less noise from rattling trucks and trailers and a generally cleaner landscape. 

Love it. 

Willie met ND Okafor yesterday at WSU's summer basketball camp. 

And, ND was definitely pleased when Willie pulled out some pictures of a coach and a facility that ND knew well while growing up in Dundalk, Ireland.

It's one of those full-circle neat stories. 

Summer league for the Sandpoint Bulldogs boys squad ended yesterday with a 10-4 season record.  Many of those wins came against strong programs around the region. 

Good job, Bulldogs, and Happy Summer Vacation for Willie. 

 

Meanwhile, William Love, Jr. and Bridie spent time involved in their usual work out in the woods. 

Bill has been hauling up loads of wood for winter from the areas where he has been working. 

While Foster and I walked to the woods to talk to Bill yesterday, we scared up a family of turkeys.  The little ones are growing enough to launch into flight and find safe spots and blend in among the tree limbs. 

Happily, the corn in the garden will be knee high by the Fourth of July, but the big question is, "Will there be corn to nibble from "them there" stalks?  

That answer will come later in the summer. 

The story behind this poignant memorial photo should not have happened. 

We used to be a nation better than to experience such senseless, often perverted tragedy with regularity. 

Slowly, gradually, the soul of this nation appears to be diminishing, one hateful act at a time. 

Sometimes the acts are with guns, or other weapons. 

Sometimes they evolve from the lips of those filled with disdain, fueling the minds of those looking for an excuse or permission to commit heinous, unspeakable crimes. 

Hateful acts where people die needlessly are getting more creative in their strategy.

Firemen should be armed, I read on Facebook yesterday. 

Add one more public servant or student or church goer or grocery store shopper or concert fan or airline passenger and so on.

  Should we all be armed every moment of every day to protect ourselves from the demented hate and evil within our own citizenry? 

I think and wish not. 

I don't know the answer to the question of what has brought us to this place in our country's history, but I know that we see plenty of signs of what and why every day. 

Will it stop?  I think not but I wish so. 

Slowly, gradually, we all need to do whatever we can to refresh and rebuild the soul of this once proud nation---one kind or courageous act at a time.

It's time to turn the page and change the story line.

Stories like yesterday's tragedy in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, need to go back to being the exception rather than the rule. Or, not at all. 

Blessings for the souls of those lost as well as for their grieving families and friends.  

So sad.  So senseless.  

The morning light on the horses was especially pleasing this morning as I walked out the door.

 

Sunday Musings

 

Before the next heat wave, we're enjoying some pleasantly cool nights (49 overnight) and their airy aftermath. 

Lots of low fog in the area this morning, and it made for some pretty scenes. 

I doubt that we'll see the fog for a while with overnight temps for the next ten days averaging in the high 50s and low 60s.  

Ugh!  

I can deal with heat when it cools off at night, but the 60s throughout the night are a bit too warm for me. 

Then again, we're almost to July so we have to deal with it. 

It's the little things of life that usually give me the biggest thrills. 

I was thrilled big time yesterday when I looked out the living room window and saw this little guy sitting on the bird feeder platform. 

I had resigned myself to the fact that we may not get to enjoy our Western flycatchers this year. 

A couple of weeks ago, I thought I had heard the characteristic tweet of the flycatcher but never had a sighting . . . until yesterday. 

Then, I saw the little bird or its partner twice. 

So, we should have some pleasant entertainment for a while as they nest and raise their young. 

They are very social birds and seem to like to show up and watch gatherings of people, and that will happen on the deck this Friday. 

Knowing the little birds are around after all made my day. 

I was also excited to hear that Willie's boys varsity basketball team continues to have a successful summer season.  So far, at a WSU camp, the team has won three out of four games.

After today's two games, the summer season ends, and Willie will get a break. 

He's pretty excited to have the opportunity today to meet Ndonwawanne aka ND Okafor, a WSU player from Dundalk, Ireland.

We stayed in Dundalk in early April, and Willie helped coach a practice with one of their girls basketball teams. 

So, it will be fun for the two to talk basketball along with sharing some Ireland stories. 

Plus, we'll probably follow Okafor when the college basketball season starts. 

In other news, I'm doing my best to get ahead of the game for our Fourth of July barbecue on the deck. 

One boneless pork roast down and turned into pulled pork and another will go in the slow cooker today. 

Since my garden chard is thriving, I'm also hoping to make some quiche today. 

Fence painting and weed eating continue as does the endless planning and cleaning for hosting the holiday fun. 

  

By late afternoon yesterday, my beautiful sunflower had turned into a pathetic looking, ruthlessly ravaged wallflower.

The petal thief operated throughout the day, methodically removing the glorious yellow petals from the plant.  

Overnight, nothing happened.  I suppose some guilt may have set in.  

Twould be nice to have a sighting of the thief in action. 

This tiny blue flower opened up yesterday in a north lawn flower box.  

It's a wildflower of some sort, and I must say that I've never seen this variety before. 

Any species suggestions?

BTW:  many thanks to a couple of FB friends who identified my neat orange flower as a Mexican sunflower. 

Thankfully, the unknown petal thief has left it alone, and it sits right next to the birthday sunflower. 

My manure-pile pumpkin is beginning its quick expansion and downward journey from the top of the pile. 

There's a big potato plant in its pathway so I'm hoping it has the decency to get in the passing lane and leave the potato alone. 

Once pumpkin plants get going, one could almost sit in a chair on a hot afternoon and watch them grow and move down the manure pile. 

Maybe I'll have time after the Fourth.  For now, I've got enough other distractions.  

Happy Sunday. 

Saturday Slight

 

We strive for posey perfection.  

Perfection, it ain't. 

This poor sunflower, which was really pretty when Bill brought it home for me earlier this week, is losing at least a petal a day.  

I suspect that some critter has singled it out for strategic petal harvest.  Who knows if it's for a meal or material for a nest. 

All I know is that every morning when I go outside, there are fewer an fewer petals on the sunflower.  I was happy to see that the plant has different heads, so all is not lost. 

In other news, my phone fell out of my pocket when I was trying my darndest to make my way to feed the horses. 

All along the way, I encountered people who wanted to visit.  Soon I realized that it was two hours after feeding time and those horses were probably whinnying, so I left the last crowd and began walking toward the barn with my friend Michelle.  She's a local veterinarian. 

Off we went, and the next thing I knew Michelle was no longer with me, and I was sitting on a bus which was not bound for the barn and the hungry horses. 

As I looked out the bus window, I could see tall buildings, bigger than any in Sandpoint.  So I knew that I was now a long way from the horses. 

I quickly concluded that it would be important to get off the bus and did not look forward to the long walk to wherever home was to feed the horses. 

Then, I realized that my iPhone had fallen out of my pocket.  It was nowhere to be found.  

That's when panic began to set in:  how was I going to let anyone know that I had not fed the horses and that I was somewhere in some city? 

Talk about losing your mind---that's pretty much how it is if you've lost your iPhone. 

Then, I awakened, feeling very very relieved to know that it was only a dream and that my phone was in the house and that it was also too early to feed the horses their breakfast. 

BUT it was 20 minutes later than I usually wake up, so the morning exercises went quickly, as did the shower and dressign, but I did make up for lost time. 

Since then, the horses have gone to pasture, and my watering is done and, by golly, my phone is in my pocket. 

That lavender spray from the Flower Farm does enhance my dreaming, but I'd prefer not to have another dream quite like that one.  

Finches finally arrived and stayed a while at the bird feeder yesterday, probably while the squirrels were napping.  

Seems like our resident squirrels have dominated the feeders. 

Squirrels are cute, but I'd prefer to see more birds. 

One never has to worry about oregano crops or  Virginia Creepers.  

Regardless of weather, they come on strong every summer. 

It's Saturday, so I decided to include some fillers. It's a bit ironic what Ernest wrote in this piece, especially because he didn't exactly "hold on" at the end.  He committed suicide. 

Still, I find the words in this piece pretty typical of life at this or any stage.  I also like the simple advice in the piece below.  

Ernest Hemingway once wrote: The hardest lesson I have had to learn as an adult is the relentless need to keep going, no matter how broken I feel inside.

This truth is raw, unfiltered, and painfully universal. Life doesn’t stop when we are exhausted, when our hearts are shattered, or when our spirits feel threadbare. It keeps moving—unyielding, indifferent—demanding that we keep pace.

 There is no pause button for grief, no intermission for healing, no moment where the world gently steps aside and allows us to mend. Life expects us to carry our burdens in silence, to push forward despite the weight of all we carry inside.

The cruelest part? 

No one really prepares us for this. As children, we are fed stories of resilience wrapped in neat, hopeful endings—tales where pain has purpose and every storm clears to reveal a bright horizon.

 But adulthood strips away those comforting illusions. It teaches us that survival is rarely poetic. More often than not, it’s about showing up when you’d rather disappear, smiling through pain no one sees, and carrying on despite feeling like you're unraveling from the inside out.

And yet, somehow, we persevere. That’s the quiet miracle of being human. Even when life is relentless, even when hope feels distant, we keep moving. We stumble, we break, we fall to our knees—but we get up. And in doing so, we uncover a strength we never knew we had. 

We learn to comfort ourselves in the ways we wish others would. We become the voice of reassurance we once searched for. Slowly, we realize that resilience isn’t always about grand acts of bravery; sometimes, it’s just a whisper—“Keep going.”

Yes, it’s exhausting. Yes, it’s unfair. And yes, there are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable. But every small step forward is proof that we haven’t given up.

 That we are still fighting, still holding on, still refusing to let the darkness consume us. That quiet defiance—choosing to exist, to try, to hope—is the bravest thing we can do.

The clouds were fascinating through most of the day yesterday.  Ominous but empty vessels. 

Another filler.  

What word is most beautiful to you?

I would welcome some petrichor myself.