It's snowing out this morning, enough to completely cover the same ground where I spent a couple of hours raking dead grass, leaves, weeds, etc. yesterday.
My yard clean-up is almost complete, save for those winding ridge-like trails of dirt the mice worked up over the winter.
So, maybe no raking today, but probably some time spent in the greenhouse, filling pots with soil in readiment for youthful plants---tomatoes, marigolds, African daisies, petunias and maybe some pansies.
I also have some lettuce starts which I'll separate and put into a planter. Hopefully, some of those can go outside in their spring/summer growing spots soon.
Yesterday, I also called John Fuller and Tony Bitton, who know my horses and lawn equipment better than I do.
It's been nearly 30 years with John, who cares for the horses' hooves and at least 15 with Tony, who knows he'll always have guaranteed work with Marianne and her lawnmowers.
Horses hooves grow and soon the grass will be doing the same.
These friends are fortunate enough to have chosen careers where they can work outside and where there will always be needs.
So, John will come Friday and trim a dozen hooves. Plus, we'll have plenty of catching up to do.
We both lamented over the phone last night about our trips that did/will not happen.
We also agreed that we are fortunate to live where we do.
Fingers crossed, only one North Idaho county (Kootenai) has reported cases of coronavirus.
If we're all careful, maybe we can keep those statistics constant.
Tony will come when he can to give the two riding mowers their spring maintenance and change the oil in the 4-wheeler.
As I told Bill, these things must happen because the lawn will need mowing and the horses cannot be ridden safely with long hooves.
Throwing dirt into pots must happen, probably more than ever this year because of the uncertainty.
It's always nice to create one's own beauty for the yard and to be able to go outside and snip off some lettuce for a salad.
I did one crazy thing, never tried before, at least consciously.
I cut up a bunch of potatoes with protruding eyes and stuck them in the berms of this years stall cleanings.
Shavings and manure stay warm AND I have found huge potatoes in the spring when rearranging my manure pile. They stayed cozy for months and just kept growing.
Since people plant veggies and stuff in bales of hay or straw, it seems like my experiment may work.
If it does, that could mean new potatoes early in the summer.
In the midst of times like this, I am always reminded of one constant that, at the time, didn't seem that great.
We lived a rather simple, work-oriented, life, which helped us see in real time so many times that, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going."
My other mantra at times like this---one which Bill has heard hundreds of times during our 45-plus years of marriage: we can always plant more potatoes.
Somehow coming from an Irish person, that may sound a bit strange, but potatoes are comfort food and having plenty around provides a sense of calm.
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| Cousin Rich has arrived back in the United States from Ethiopia. He is self isolating in a cabin in the Arkansas woods. It didn't take him long to learn the new protocol at the grocery stores. ~~~~~~ |
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| John Fuller, longtime farrier and philosopher, extraordinaire. |
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| Tony Bitton, Pac West Parts, mechanical wizard. |
~~~~~~~
Remembering our friend, Vicki.
Many of us in the Sandpoint area and beyond lost a true friend when Vicki Dolsby passed away.
It's hard for me to adequately summarize what Vicki has meant to our community, school district and especially to our family.
To begin, I must tell a tale on Vicki.
One day, Vicki and her husband Gale (who provided both of my children Willie and Annie an opportunity to learn about videography while filming sports events) came to our house with a group of former students.
It was after the funeral of our beloved friend Jenny, and these students, along with Vicki and Gale, had come to join our Lodgepole Society.
While the rest of the group walked to the far pasture where the huge lodgepole stood, I told Gale and Vicki to take our 4-wheeler.
Gale took the wheel while Vicki rode shotgun.
I must say it was probably fortunate that Vicki did not HAVE a shotgun because, from the start, Gale's driving was basically scaring the Hell out of Vicki.
"Gale, slow down," she began calmly.
Several feet later, "GALE, SLOW DOWN!"
I do know that Gale might have been hard of hearing and that might be why he remained oblivious as he directed that 4-wheeler at a good clip through the woods.
After several appeals from Vicki to Gale, I heard, "DAMMIT, GALE, SLOW DOWN!!!
And, maybe a few other expletives.
Fortunately, all turned out well and Mr. and Mrs. Dolsby made it to the Lodgepole tree unscathed.
BTW: I was fortunate enough to teach all three of Vicki and Gale's children---Regan, Craig and Clint.
Ma and Pa Dolsby did well as parents.
Actually, after reading Vicki's obituary, I must say that the author provided a masterful job at portraying this wonderful woman.
I would simply punctuate her story with a personal observation: Vicki, you always cared about us, and that meant so much.
Thank you, dear friend.
You will be missed.
Many of us in the Sandpoint area and beyond lost a true friend when Vicki Dolsby passed away.
It's hard for me to adequately summarize what Vicki has meant to our community, school district and especially to our family.
To begin, I must tell a tale on Vicki.
One day, Vicki and her husband Gale (who provided both of my children Willie and Annie an opportunity to learn about videography while filming sports events) came to our house with a group of former students.
It was after the funeral of our beloved friend Jenny, and these students, along with Vicki and Gale, had come to join our Lodgepole Society.
While the rest of the group walked to the far pasture where the huge lodgepole stood, I told Gale and Vicki to take our 4-wheeler.
Gale took the wheel while Vicki rode shotgun.
I must say it was probably fortunate that Vicki did not HAVE a shotgun because, from the start, Gale's driving was basically scaring the Hell out of Vicki.
"Gale, slow down," she began calmly.
Several feet later, "GALE, SLOW DOWN!"
I do know that Gale might have been hard of hearing and that might be why he remained oblivious as he directed that 4-wheeler at a good clip through the woods.
After several appeals from Vicki to Gale, I heard, "DAMMIT, GALE, SLOW DOWN!!!
And, maybe a few other expletives.
Fortunately, all turned out well and Mr. and Mrs. Dolsby made it to the Lodgepole tree unscathed.
BTW: I was fortunate enough to teach all three of Vicki and Gale's children---Regan, Craig and Clint.
Ma and Pa Dolsby did well as parents.
Actually, after reading Vicki's obituary, I must say that the author provided a masterful job at portraying this wonderful woman.
I would simply punctuate her story with a personal observation: Vicki, you always cared about us, and that meant so much.
Thank you, dear friend.
You will be missed.
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| Willie, Vicki and Bill |
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