Saturday Slight

Ducks getting into a row at the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge yesterday. 

It's been an ominous start to Derby Day here at the Lovestead.  When I went outside to do chores this morning, I felt like I was walking through a scene from a Shakespeare tragedy---you know that ones where weird events "portend" bad things a-coming. 

My greenhouse door was wide open and the lower plastic panel, which I keep duct taping back into place, was hanging loose and at an angle. I walked further and saw the shop door wide open.

Then, I turned toward the barnyard and saw a top fence board clinging to a post on one end and stuck in the muck on the other. 

"What the heck?" I said out loud.  

Twas as if someone had come in on a mission to disrupt all sense of normalcy on our farm.  
Horses had chosen to spend the night standing in the barn stalls as we definitely had some storms come through. So, they were doing okay. 

Later, while walking through the north lawn, I saw a series of large branches that had blown off from the poplar grove next to the driveway, one with such force that its three-inch branch end had pierced the ground about four inches or so.  

At first, it looked like a new fruit tree had appeared overnight---that gives you a size of the branch.  I had to tug at it a few times to get it out of the ground.

I'm guessing all this fury must have happened when we drove to the restaurant for dinner last night and saw masses of huge black clouds, loaded down with a huge supply of wet ammo waiting for a good rain dump somewhere.  We also saw lightning striking and wind blowing with a bluster. 

On the way home, we noticed limbs and debris scattered across Selle Road, but by the time we pulled into the driveway,  it was getting dark, so we failed to notice anything out of the ordinary at our house. 

This morning, however, hints of an intense stormy moment or two greeted me all around the yard.  Glad we missed it all while sitting safely in the restaurant where lights did flicker a time or two. 

We were supposed to have a fairly bad day weatherwise yesterday, but it must have saved up for a grand finale.  

Happily, that meant I could get a start on my garden tilling AND round up enough hoses around the place to be ready for when we actually need to water.  My coil hoses, if connected so that the weak spots are far away from where I'm holding them, will work at least for a while. 

So, I was happy to not have to spend any more money on hoses---at least for now. 

I thought yesterday was the day Debbie and her volunteers were planting the garden at the Food Bank.  She had asked me to take some photos.  Turns out that's next Friday afternoon, so I switched gears and decided to head up to Bonners Ferry where Bill was working with the fishing day activities for Clark Fork students. 

When I pulled into the Lions Club park, the kids were all loaded on the bus and ready to head back to their school.  No photos there.  

I moved on to the Wildlife Refuge classroom, where the bus had pulled up ahead of me and most kids from there were already loaded on the bus.  The students learned from several adult volunteers how to tie their own flies for fishing.  One even showed me his finished product before climbing on to the bus. 

All in all, the best laid plans didn't exactly pan out, but there were still a few nice photo opportunities along the way. 

On this rainy Derby Day, some family members are planning to have our own in-home Derby party, complete with hats.  

Bizarre Bazaar's inventory shrank considerably on Thursday when I purchased several hats on Thursday.  At the time, I did kinda wonder if any of those lovely, gently used hats had ever belonged to Mary Faux, Sandpoint's beloved "Hat Lady."  I doubt that Mary parts with her hats, but then again, how much storage does she have?

I do not believe that in all the years I've known her (about 50-plus), that I've ever seen Mary NOT wearing a hat. 

Anyway, I bought hats and handed them out, so all guests today will be properly attired (at least their heads will be) for the Derby festivities. 

And, yes, the one below is mine, and, yes, Jet Pilot won the Derby the year I was born. According to his biography, he took of from the gates ahead of the pack and led to the finish line. 

This year, nearly 70 years later, I'm sticking to my Irish roots and pulling for Irish War Cry, a son of big money winner Curlen.  I don't think this horse came from Ireland, but I like his name, and from what I've heard, this year's race is pretty much a toss-up among the pundits.  

So, I'll go with "what's in a name."  His name sounds good to me. Plus, this morning's paper shows him as the favorite.   

Go, Irish!

Happy Saturday.  Stay dry.  Enjoy the Derby if you're a racing buff.