It didn't last long, but we had a bird event yesterday.
I'm guessing the forward observers for the swallows came to check out the housing situation.
They came. They saw. Five minutes later, they flew off.
I'm sure they'll be back because if housing for birds around this area is anything like it is for peeps, the swallows will probably decide that our bird houses look pretty good.
And, they won't have to pay a high pricetag like what we're seeing here for peep houses and acreages here in the neighborhood.
Here at the Lovestead it's low-income aka free housing for swallows or for pretty much any other birds that want to live on the place.
Plus, there are good eats in the feeders, and for the swallows, lots of flies sticking like velcro on the sunny side of the house in the afternoons.
During the swallow interlude, Bill and I stood near the barn, watching as the little white birds with blue coats performed various aerial maneuvers, sometimes cruising no more than foot from where I was standing.
One stopped long enough to inspect the inside of the brown bird house opposite the barn.
They soon moved down the lane, and the last time we saw them, they were performing down at the far shed.
I'm looking forward to their return. The little black flies on the house probably are not so anxious to see them return.
The day also included some work in the dirt----garden dirt that is. After Bill pulled the cord on the little rototiller, I spent about 15 minutes working up the dirt.
I'll do another run today, and then the garden should be ready for seeds in a couple of weeks.
In other news, it was a three-dog event with pieces of horse hooves last night. The treats were left behind last week when John Fuller trimmed the horses.
And, at one time, all three dogs were chewing with gusto on pieces they found in the yard.
To Liam, Foster and Kiwi, the horse hooves are almost better than their daily helpings of horse apples from the manure pile.
Lots of little spring things happened around the place yesterday, including some more seeds going into flower planters and pouring more sunflower seeds into the bird feeders.
I took my usual drive around the countryside yesterday. This time I turned off HWY 95 and drove into the bucolic little nook of Baileyville at Colburn.
Turns out that, unlike most of the neighborhood, the striking yellow house among the willow trees doesn't belong to a member of the Bailey family.
I met a very nice lady crossing the quiet road with her cat. She rents from the owners of the yellow house.
During a very pleasant get-acquainted she told me that the owners are very interesting people who travel the world on missionary work.
When we said good bye, and I was on my exit from Baileyville, I met another nice lady who had stopped her car to let me pass by.
The moment we exchanged greetings through our open car windows, I said, "It's obvious you didn't grow up in Colburn."
Nope, for sure. Her hometown of Melbourne, Australia, is a long, long way from Colburn, but she has moved to this area and proudly told me she's American.
Quite an interlude of two new acquaintances in a short stretch of a peaceful country road and one that made my day.
Today, I've included a video from an upbeat song I heard for the first time on the Country Music Awards Sunday evening.
Once again, it struck a chord, especially because its lyrics ring SO true for every small town in America. And, of course, there's an added benefit: a Border Collie appears in the video.
Fame is relative; in fact, it's what you or others make it.
Which brings up a fun question for reflection.
Who are the famous people in your hometown?
And, why?
That's all.
Happy Wednesday. It's another beautiful spring day here in the country, and I'm lovin' where I live.
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