Tuesday Twitterdeedum

Transformational Attitudes

Today:  Transition

A few days from now:  Autumn Glory

Two weeks from now:  Yuck, yuck, yuck - rake, rake, rake,

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Yup, those leaves will arouse the emotions, ranging from absolute ecstasy to endless monotony. 

I love the fall but learn to hate the leaves, especially when they take their time dropping from the trees.

As usual, in this country, the window of opportunity for raking them up when they die can be limited.

So, it seems like I rake day in, day out until the snow flies.  I do have a lawn sweeper, which picks up a percentage of them, but good ol' fashioned raking takes up a goodly amount of time during the "Hurry, let's get ready for winter" season around here.

For now, I'm just going to enjoy the brilliant color show as it unfolds. 

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Yesterday before the torrents of rain, accented by wild and woolly thunder in the night, I managed to finish off hauling sod from the newly excavated patch of garden and cover the spot with some rich barnyard dirt.

I'm rather proud of my dirt pile on the west side of the barn, and I think Bill's somewhat impressed too.  

It's fun to see the black results of so many hours and years of hauling green horse apples and tan shavings from the barn to the outdoors.

Age has taken its toll on the originals, and the deep, steamy innards of the pile have led to impressive decay.  

What was a huge pile of grass clippings, poop and shavings has turned to wonderful garden dirt.
Now, unlike those fall leaves above,  there's a transformation I appreciate. 

When I see that pile and haul load after load to the garden, I figure those horses have done their share to help out around here.  

Not just hayburners, but producers of garden gold. 

The only drawback is that this reward does not fit in the realm of instant gratification, which our society has come to expect and enjoy so much.

Seems like our society is learning the hard way, though,  that time is an important element in many dimensions of success. 

My manure pile has served as a good reminder for me.

And, as I develop the extended garden area, I do thank time and those ever-producing horses. 

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Dennis Warren came yesterday with a dump truck full  of three-quarter-minus gravel.  He owns Red Owl Construction at Gold Creek, and I've enjoyed calling him each year to replenish our pile for projects around the place. 

Before the snow flies, we hope to have more gravel spread in front of the barn doors and more in the lane.  In addition, we'll build up the area near the house where we park the cars. 

Each year we find areas around the place where a little gravel will save us a lot of walking through slop, and the overnight heavy rains give me plenty of clues of just where to dump it. 

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This week is Homecoming Week at Sandpoint High School.  Last month I mentioned a free barbecue for alumni, staff and students.

Turns out the date they originally gave me was not possible--the Friday did not match the actual calendar date. 

So, today, if you're local and interested, take note:  It's this Friday, Oct. 14 from 3:30-5:30 p.m. in front of Sandpoint High School.

Alumni simply need to show up, hopefully wearing red-and-white, and plan to eat, visit and maybe even engage in some of the activities, coordinated by SHS Student Council.  

Later, the group will head to Barlow Stadium at Memorial Field for the football game between Sandpoint and Lakeland.

~~~~

On a final note, I must mention yet another reminder of how much I appreciate my neighbors.  

They know that I'm occasionally on the search for grandpuppies who decide to sneak off from the Lovestead.

Yesterday, within 60 seconds of each other, I received two telephone calls, first from Janice up the road, then, from Geneva next door.

They had seen a black and white dog roaming through their places.  Both wasted no time letting me know just in case one of ours was missing.

I went out and counted noses.  Three of the four Border Collies were just outside the garage door, so I invited them inside. 

Kea was missing, but I didn't worry about her cuz she never leaves home.

Just to make sure, however, I called for her, several times.

She never responded.

"Maybe that is our dog," I thought.  So, I went to Meserve's and asked them which way the dog had run.  I told them that maybe Kea had crawled into Bill's pickup as a stowaway and had gone to town with him.

Kea loves to go for rides, so much so that she has been sneaking into cars.  Only problem is that sometimes we're not going anywhere, just opening the doors to get stuff out of the cars.
So, the little gal could go for hours undetected. 

On my way home, from Meserve's, I remembered that Bill had just driven the bigger truck up from his wood pile to the house and had parked it by the shop.

Sure enough, when I walked to the truck, there was Kea curled up and hiding in the back seat . . . waiting for that truck ride. 

Happy ending, indeed, and a great feeling to know that the neighbors are watching out in our behalf.

Thanks, Johnsons and Meserves!