Slight Detour: Weekend Album

It's a Monday morning when I'm really glad to have a camera.

After all, when you meet yourself coming and going for three straight days because of people to see, places to go and things to do, the mind gets a little muddled in trying to remember the highlights.

That's where the cameras come in handy. This weekend was jam-packed full of all the above.

We drove to Spokane and attended a ZAGS game. Afterward, we had a bite to eat at a restaurant in the Spokane Valley Mall: first burger of the weekend.

Second burger (pictured below) at Burger Dock topped off the weekend.

In between burgers, we attended a company party/retirement dinner where I met Clyde.

For me, Clyde has always been a mysterious figure who gets talked about at company parties but never seen.

Well, he decided to show up Saturday night, and I even got to sit by him. There is no real way to explain Clyde. One has to meet him.

He's definitely a one-of-a-kind, fun, smart, quick-witted kind of a guy who came on with the company in its infant stages three decades ago.

During the party, Dick and Karen Bradetich, partners in the company, were roasted as retirees. When my and everyone else's friend and local logger/trucker Cliff Irish, "the Wild Irishman," is in the crowd, anyone gets a proper roast.

Twas a fun gathering Saturday night, with lots of good visiting.

Some of the ongoing banter led to another project at the Lovestead yesterday afternoon.

When Fred and Patty Omodt at the table next to us were recognized by emcee Mike Wolcott---like my friend Cliff---I had to add a factoid.

It dealt with my blueberry bushes.

"About a year and a half ago," I began, "Fred came into our driveway, pursuing the Schwan's man [who was at our place at the time]. Fred wanted some ice cream bars.

"While waiting for his order, he looked over at my blueberry bushes and suggested that I needed some guidance on pruning them.

"Fred has yet to show up," I announced to the dinner crowd.

Fred, a retired forester, and his wife have spent the past several years developing a popular blueberry farm on Shingle Mill Road in the Selle Valley.

As the party ended, Fred came up to me and asked, "Will you be home tomorrow afternoon? I'll come and take care of your blueberries"

"Yes," I responded, "but I've gotta watch the Seahawks game."

The Seahawks won (9-2, YAY), and Fred called ten minutes later, telling Bill he'd be swinging by with his pruning tools.

Turns out Fred was fresh off a blueberry pruning clinic in Prosser, Wash.

So, in addition to taking care of our dozen blueberry bushes, we received a tutorial, which also included a reminder of what NOT to do, as Fred zeroed in on the one bush I had attacked with the shears a week or so ago.

Ya don't prune blueberry bushes like you do apple trees. The straight up canes are vital to a blueberry bush and the "twiggies" and old branches with no new growth have to go.

I'd say this morning that my bushes now look a bit like hot pink skeletons in comparison to their usual appearance, but that's the way they're supposed to look.

We thoroughly enjoyed Fred's visit, as he has kids the same age as our kids, so while enjoying the beautiful late fall afternoon, we got caught up on our respective families.

Thank you, Fred, for taking the time to come over. We learned a lot, and we appreciate your willingness to help our bushes along.

Besides all the scheduled activities, I was able to button up the last of the winterizing projects and just plain enjoy my animals.

It's a good time here at the Lovestead, with the barrage of fall stuff to be done finally done AND we have nice, crisp, mostly dry days ahead.

After a weekend like this past one, again we are once again reminded by the people we encounter, the picturesque neighborhood scenes and the overall opportunity to live the simple, busy and good life on our lovely little farm---that we are so blessed.

Happy Monday. Enjoy the photos.