Quiet Morning

Bill and I have already had the discussion this morning about weather scientists, forecasters, etc. and how well paid they are to tell us what's gonna happen tomorrow, the next day and the next.

I might have to get a hearing check because I could have sworn Tom Sherry told us last night that today was going to be the dry day of the weekend. 

Not so.  

A semi-raging river from a full night of rain is headed south across the front yard where I avoided part of the French drain yesterday while mowing.  

It was pretty squishy out there even on higher ground, but the mower did fine.  I chose not to take a chance on getting it stuck in the middle of our front lawn and having to tear up the place with the 4-wheeler to get it out.

So, that portion of grass can keep growing.  Otherwise, yesterday's mowing experience turned out to be quite delightful.  With the new zero-turn machine, the difficult part of past mowings has turned into the easy, fun part. 

That's the part where we trim as close as possible to trees or garden beds.  Once I figured out the sensitivities of those steering arms, no bricks went flying, and most stuff around the yard stayed intact.

With the first major lawn mowing almost finished, I set my sights toward some horseback riding today.  After all, the main yard work would be done, and it would be that dry day of the weekend that Tom promised us on his weather forecast. 

There are some pluses to this soggy situation, though, as I listen to continual drip, drip, drips. 

Because I mowed yesterday, the grass won't be nearly so tall next time I mow as it could have been had I not.

Tom was right: today IS the good day of the weekend.  

Tomorrow's forecast calls for snow. 

That means for us humans, the forecasts also call for more patience.  I'm working at it, thinking about alternative plans for the day ahead.  

I might go into town and shock the heck out of the coffee cult.  Haven't seen some of them in months.

I do have grocery shopping to do.  And, I can pay my bills. 

I can also continue to look for some journals belonging to students which I kept for them about 14 years ago. The idea was for them to reclaim them ten years later. 

Well, I heard from one of the students this week, requesting her notebook. 

Well, in that time, I've moved 30 years' worth of stuff from our Great Northern Road to Selle.  

The storage shed where I kept several boxes of my school stuff caved in about five years ago, with winter snow destroying most of the contents.  

Also, dozens of moving boxes still sit in stacks in various parts of the house, some in hard-to-get-to places.

I have begun the search and have not yet found the journals.   

Other treasures, though, have appeared.  

In one box yesterday, I found a package of cigarette papers and a box of "roll-yer-own" tobacco. These items had been in a sack retrieved from my dad's pickup, probably set for his use before he died 11 years ago. 

I figured the set is definitely a keeper, since most of us who knew Harold would list his cigarette rolling habits as one of the most vivid memories of our time with him. 

In that same sack I found three small boxes of .22 bullets.  Having heard how hard it is to get into stores fast enough to purchase .22 ammunition before it disappears from the shelves, I pulled those out and will keep them in a safe place.  

After all, those $1.29 boxes are worth gold these days. 

I found one of Mother's water color notecards of the horse-drawn trolley which used to take tourists and locals for rides around Sandpoint.  Never did ride the trolley, and I always likened my negligence to people living in New York City who've never gone to the Statue of Liberty.

I also found three class photos from Lincoln School and once again found myself in all three. Seems I didn't ALWAYS have to stand in the top row cuz of my height. I was even standing in the middle, smack dab almost, next to Maria Sanner who was standing next to Mrs. Hazel Lunn. 

That was second grade. On the other side of Mrs. Lunn was JoAnn Levering, and once again, as I did a few years ago, I wondered what the heck ever happened to her. 

So, I got off task and did some Googling, with no success.   If anyone knows JoAnn Levering or her whereabouts, do contact me.  I'm pretty sure she left town before we even hit junior high.  

Anyway, I did some looking and found no journals, so if this rain keeps up today, maybe I could look some more. But then again, if we have snow tomorrow, maybe I'd better put off the indoor search, dress up in rain gear one more day this week and go take pictures of ducks.

I'll bet I could even feed some of them some bread if I'd go back to Bayview.

Happy Saturday.