Saturday Slightly Accentuating

"You've got to accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, latch on to the affirmative.  Don't mess with Mr. In-Between."

I don't even know Mr. In-Between, so I'm not gonna talk about him this morning.  

I shall accentuate, eliminate and latch on to, if at all possible.  The aim is to refrain from cynicism on this pleasantly wet and muddy and slop-filled morning. 

Let's see if I can succeed.

I really like my Seattle Sombrero, and I'm thinking that I  look pretty trendy wearing it with my barn coat over three layers of tops, including a fleece AND my snow pants.  It's definitely THE look for North Idaho in times of interminably wet and muddy weather.  

The hat keeps the rain off my head.  The coat protects the tops underneath.  The snowpants keep my pants cuffs from getting wet up to the calves.  And, by the way,  I'm referring to my legs---not cow babies.  Cow babies would disappear in the muck here at the Lovestead. 

The barn boots have held out through this winter.  No holes.  Feet dry most of the time. 

On another positive note, today Lefty at least changed sides when he rubbed another raw, hot spot on his neck overnight.  At least he's distributing the battle scars.  That's a plus, for sure. 

He's an equal-opportunity horse when it comes to his masochistic ways.  I'm glad to have instilled that in him. 

 My lawn is almost completely fertilized.  For some odd reason, we had several hours of dry weather yesterday.  

It wasn't in the cards, but I took it anyway, walking and walking and walking with my little fertilizer spreader, hurrying to get it all done before those dark clouds came over the mountain and started us on our latest deluge.

While I was out in the front yard with the spreader, my friend and competitor for beautiful neighborhood yards, Janice, pulled over to the driveway.  She saw me out there pushing something and was afraid I'd already started mowing my lawn.  

Of course, Janice, being married to a heavy-equipment operator,  knows that anything heavier than a few pounds would decimate a lawn in these moist times.  So, when she saw the fertilizer spreader, she was relieved to know I had not lost my mind---just yet, anyway.

I knew I could count on the rain to do its thing with my fertilizer.  So, that makes me happy.  

Yesterday, I also stuck two lettuce plants in the garden plot around the dog kennel,  and they're still alive this morning. Didn't even float away.

So, this morning, I latched on to the affirmative and planted four more. I planted them in the same place where I thought I was planting lettuce about a week ago when I so foolishly thought it was safe to plant lettuce starts outside.

Later, when it froze that night and those little plants wilted all over the soil, I also realized some further foolishness.  They were NOT lettuce plants; they were from my limited supply of baby petunias, started from seed.  

Don't plant baby petunia starts outside in North Idaho in April---ever.  I'm feeling positive this morning because I have now learned that lesson.  

Lettuce plants do much better, and it's especially good to have a critical, trained eye when you select those little green things out of the greenhouse pots to put them in the ground. 

On another positive front, I must say that my record with my grandpuppy Brooke this week is much better than that of the Seattle Mariners.  

So far, since Willie and Debbie headed off for Los Angeles Wednesday night, Brooke has not sneaked off to the neighbor's even once.

And, I'm keeping score.  Brooke has attempted to sneak off to the neighbor's four times, but I have closely watched her strategy of acting rather nonchalant while other dogs look upward at a squirrel in a tree or when other dogs play with the blue ball out in the hay field.

Brooke waits until she thinks I'm out of sight.  What she does not know or hasn't learned yet is that I AM WATCHING her, hidden from sight.  

My strategy is to make sure that Brooke is fully committed to disappearing, allowing her to get to the gate from the hayfield into the woods or halfway down the pathway through the woods.  

At that point the loudest, most vicious sound echoes through the Selle Valley, waking up all chickens and ducks and sleeping dogs:   BROOKE, YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!

Yup, I've caught her four times, and she has not succeeded in sneaking off once in the last three days.   So, that's a positive. 

On another positive note, I saw on Facebook that Willie, Debbie, Barbara and the local journalism students got to listen to journalist Lisa Ling and her sister yesterday at the convention.  

Willie tweeted that she had shared some inspiring stories with the students. So, that's pretty cool. 

Finally, the birds are singing up a storm out there----oops, why did I say that?  I should instead say that the birds are singing through the clean, moist morning air and doing their very best to accentuate the positive.  

With their inspiration,  I'm going to latch on to the affirmative and make the most of this day, especially when I'm slogging around in my trendy outdoor ensemble.  

Happy Saturday.