As The Butter Churns

November 23rd My Deer Friend Francine

(the early bird)

    Today was Thanksgiving – well, our Thanksgiving since Tom won’t be with us on Thursday. I roasted a small 12lb turkey, did an apple, cornbread, mushroom, onion and sage stuffing, whipped up some garlic potatoes and steamed some not so traditional but always yummy edamame from Trader Joes™ for good luck.

  (Alexis spearheads the concrete pad project for the soon-to-be-necessary generator)

 (Tom and Henry assist)

(Tom starts the long-awaited painting)

     In the late afternoon, I tented the turkey with aluminum foil and went out to grain the cows as we were expecting a cold night.
(grain and mouse - must remember to snap lid on tightly - had to lower a shovel inside to let him climb out)

   Grain is important in the winter because the cows need the extra calories on cold nights to keep them warm. After feeding the animals in the barn, I walked down to the pasture with a bucket of grain in one hand and the now requisite cougar-deterring air horn in the other. I was just about to climb over the fence and fetch the black flat-bottomed rubber bowls I divide the grain into when I saw her. A doe. She was the same doe from the night of the cougar sighting a couple of weeks ago; the same doe that appeared at the beaver pond unafraid last night. The same doe Quinn and I have seen on occasion. We both thought her so vulnerable all by herself. Was she destined to be Karen’s cougar chow? Quinn and I plotted to round her up and put her in the barn at night to keep her safe. My practical sister’s reaction to this idea was ”Great, Denise, one more mouth to feed.”   And, of course, there was the little detail that she was a wild animal. I am not the sort who would jump in a panda enclosure to get a hug. Or place my child on the back of a buffalo for a picture. So, as much as I worried about the doe, I’d have to accept the situation- Que sera sera.
(All alone)

    Here she was alone. Again. The moment I saw her I was prepared for her to run away, but she didn’t. She walked toward me, ears turning around the way Miracle’s do when she’s listening intently. As she got closer I stood statue still. I was unprepared for what happened next. She copped a squat. Peed right in front of me. Deer urination is a really ridiculous reason to lovingly remember your mother who has passed away, but it was exactly what happened. My mom, the teacher, the woman amused by second grade humor, felt that nature shows omitted wild animals urination and defecation. As a result, she brought back pictures from her safari of cheetahs pooping. Now, here in front of me was a little doe. I never knew they squatted. The cattle just stand and pee. Now, the goats do squat. Interesting. Thinking of my mother I snapped a picture.
  (Like mother, like daughter)

    Abe was making quite a ruckus as I had yet to hand over the grain, while Anna and Andy stood idly by. He about went berserk when he saw me scoop out some of his precious grain and put it on the ground for the doe. Afterward, I went about my business and she walked over beyond some trees.

   After graining the Devons and, inspired by the doe, I walked on toward the beaver pond hoping for a glimpse of Wally. On the way I disturbed two more doe nibbling their dinner. I said, “Good evening ladies, lovely weather we’re having. All this sunshine is wonderful, isn’t it? I hope you’re not afraid; I’m just walking through here. Don’t worry about me.” Once again, I was stunned they didn’t scamper away.

(Light growing dim - one of a pair)

   Perhaps they found my voice friendly, or perhaps I don’t look menacing. Whatever it was they let me walk within 30 feet or so of them as they occasionally looked up at me and continued eating. Wally was not en casa, and the light was fading dramatically, so I began to head back. When, suddenly, my little doe appeared again. She’d been watching me from under a tree. And, as I made my way back, she continued to walk toward me. Closer and closer and closer we came to each other. I kept walking and talking, “Francine, I think your name might be Francine.” I babbled. “Well, Francine, I’m quite happy to make your acquaintance. But I want you to be careful; there are lots of predators around. Do you know Karen? I don’t suppose you do or we wouldn’t be chatting. I wonder, why don’t you meet up with those other two does? Don’t you like them? Or don’t they like you? Are they the mean girls? Little Francine, are you hungry? I’ll get you some deer food at the store so you’re not hungry this winter. I think you would like one of those deer blocks.”  I rambled until she was only about eight feet away. We studied each other. I felt so blessed to be standing there so close to her. I’d idolized Jane Goodall growing up and for a nanosecond I felt the thrill she must have felt for 45 years.  And then it was over and she bounced away.
(Henry's heavenly chocolate)

    Soon after, Alexis came over, chocolate ganache in hand ready for - what else? - “Lethal Weapon 3”.  We skipped the fancy-dancy dinner table, as we’ll do that later in the week. I took a bite of turkey. I had so much to be thankful for. I finally made a new friend I could talk to. And this was the best turkey I’d ever made.

November 21st Wait 'Til Your Father Gets Home

(Fairhaven Middle School - early in the morning - on a band rehearsal day)

    When I got home after taking Henry to school, I got a call. “Hey, what’s for dinner tomorrow?” Tom asked strangely .

    “Whyyyyy?” I responded, hopeful.   

    “I thought you sounded down lately and so I cashed in some Alaska miles to surprise you and Henry.”

    “Seriously?” I asked, knowing he was completely serious.

    This wasn’t my first surprise like that. I thought back to a phone call I got years ago in Minneapolis. It was the anniversary of my assault and I was feeling alone. I was at a photo shoot when the photographer’s assistant said there was a call for me.

    “For me?” She nodded, and handed me the phone.

    “Hello?” I answered, completely bewildered.

    “Hey, what’s cookin’, good-lookin’?” Tom answered in a cheerful voice.

    “Hey. I’m just at a photo shoot,” I answered, figuring he had no idea what day it was.

    “What are you doing later?” Tom asked.

    “Going home. Nothing special," I said, feeling sorry for myself.

    “Well, I thought I’d take you to dinner,” he said with a smile in his voice.

    “WHAT? How is that possible? You’re in Santa Monica and I’m here.”

    “Ahh, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m at the airport and will be there in a few hours - if you don’t mind picking me up. I have to be at work tomorrow, so we can go to dinner and I’ll fly back in the morning. With the time change it’ll work out fine.”

    “Do you know what day it is?”

    “Of course..”

    Back to today and this surprise:

    I asked for details.

    “I’ll be there at 8:00PM,” Tom informed me.

    “Drat. I’ll be in Burlington with Henry, finishing gymnastics. Do you mind if Alexis picks you up?” I asked. I hoped it didn’t sound like I didn’t want to pick him up.

    “Sounds great; he’ll probably be on time.”

    “You think you’re funny.” He knows how to shoot the zingers.

    “It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other.”

    “I’m so excited. I can’t believe you're coming.”

   
(transformation begins)

    (no more salon for me)

    I didn't say a word to Henry, but I had less than a day to transform myself back into a girl. I colored my hair and bought lipstick and a bottle of "Out the Door" topcoat at the beauty supply - just in case I had time for a pedi. Knowing I needed a new outfit, I went to "Whistle Work" with Lisa and picked up a brand new pair of navy coveralls. She said they looked like they could be my Sunday dress coveralls. When we were just about ready to walk out the door for Burlington, Henry looked me over carefully.

    “Mama, you look awfully nice to go to gymnastics.”

    “I just thought it would be a nice change from my farm-wife look.”

    “Oh.”

    Alexis offered to feed the animals, and I took him up on it as it was raining and I didn’t want to ruin my hair graining the cows.

    Bursting with excitement while driving to gymnastics, I had to stop myself from dropping hints.I was  barely able to contain myself and almost blurted it out a couple of times. But I knew it would completely distract Henry from his workout and, with competition only weeks away at this point, I tried to be maternally selfless. I ran some errands and tried to keep myself busy.

    Henry watched “Baby Boom” with Diane Keaton in the car on the way home. I’d forgotten how funny the movie was and how much I’d relate to it at this point. Diane Keaton’s character loses her big job because her long-lost cousin leaves her a baby and abrupt motherhood interferes with her “Tiger Lady” reputation. So she purchases a place out in the country. The workman at her 62-acre Vermont home  keeps telling “J.C.” that "it will be just another $7,000 dollars." Her well goes dry, her roof leaks and she goes from loving to loathing the place as her bank account dwindles, all of which helped keep my mind off the surprise and my mouth shut.

    I called Tom from the road and found out his plane was a little delayed, so I knew we’d beat them home.

    When we arrived, I tried to tidy up a bit and get the dogs fed. When I heard the dogs barking, I called Henry downstairs. I imagined the wonderful moment when Tom would walk in and Henry would see his daddy. What I got instead was:

    “God damn it! IRISH! DOWN! God damn it! What the. . .,”  erupted from the pitch-black game room. Tom continued his tirade in complete frustration, ignored by an anxious, overgrown puppy who kept leaping in the air, trying to lick the long-lost daddy and managing to knock off his glasses.

    Tom was home.

    “Daddy! You sound like Grandpa. Mom, Daddy’s here! Mama?” Henry shouted, and then he turned to me in sudden realization. “Wait a second; you wanted to look nice for gymnastics?  I don’t think so. Mama, you bought that new cranberry lipstick for this guy?”
(guilty as charged)

September 29th A Frightening Note

 (the fall pasture)

    Dry hot sun and crackling crunchy leaves. What better time to patch the barn roof? Ready or not the rain will come again. Tom got out the caulking gun and snipped the end of the epoxy. Just as he was about to climb on the metal roof he realized it might not be sturdy enough. Henry and I were called in to finish the job.
  (while we're working, Tom and his girlfriend are fooling around) (more shenanagans)

(Miracle can't resist Tom's beard)

    The roof was wobbly and very slippery so we took off our boots and socks to get a better grip. Tired of the buckets and drips every time it rains we moved seam by seam across the sides of the roof meticulously sealing every one.
( a little of my waning gecko tatto) (farm-boy Henry patching the barn rooff)

    Afterward, Tom and Henry went in the house to clean up as they both had things to do for work and school.  The unemployed freeloader in the family, I stayed to put the animals up for the night. While I was doling out hay, I heard a terrible cry. It sounded like one of the cows was in distress. I rushed outside to see if I could identify which one. I heard it again. It sounded painful. I ran farther worried I was going to see a cow on the ground covered in cougar. As I got to the top of the hill that overlooks the pasture I heard the cry again. This time I could tell it was coming from the house not the field. I stood there shaking with laughter as I realized it was Henry practicing the cornet. (not your grandfather's cornet)

September 27th When You Get To The Fork In The Road

    (from our apple trees)

    While the morning coffee was brewing, Toby hopped in her van still in her fuzzy socks and pajamas. She made a quick run to the lady down the road who sells Aracuana eggs so Pea could have a big farm breakfast. Toby's a good wife. She does my laundry she makes breakfast, I don't think she should ever leave.

    After all tummies were full, we dispersed. Everyone had work to do. Dean, Henry and Tom began the morning with the barn. They worked tirelessly to clean the barn. Every mat was scraped, every piece of donkey dung removed every goat gooberlet taken to the compost and replaced with warm clean straw. The boys tried to cut corners, but were inspected by the “Do it right” man at every turn. Dean complained Henry wasn’t working hard enough when Henry went in the house to get a snack. Naturally, the moment he got back Dean left leaving Henry to sing the same sad song. Tom continued to crack the whip. The barn has never been cleaner.

    Tom and Henry moved on to another project. Dean completely lost interest and went inside to see if he could help Toby with the pies she was making from the apples she’d picked off our badly tended to trees. I promise to get to them this year.

\ (apple pie in the making)

    While they were tending to my regular chores, I scraped the third floor windows free of paint. Renewing my trapeze career by doing a backbend out the third story window so I could do the black trim. I wanted things to be as nice as possible today as my friend, Laurie was visiting from California. She was my mentor teacher, Realtor and friend. Coincidentaly, she was visiting friends up here and was going to stop by for the full tour, chili and of course margaritas.

    I spoke to Laurie about 2:00PM. She said they would be here around 4:00PM as they were leaving Bellingham around 3:30PM. I told Tom and Toby we’d be lucky to see them by 5 o’clock. I know people around here and they don’t believe anyone lives farther out than six or seven miles. Sure enough about 4:30PM I got a call. That she was in cell range meant I still had time to run the vacuum. Once again, I gave the directions:

“Yes, pass the casino, keep going about three miles. When you think you’ve gone too far, keep going. Like I told you when you get to the. . ”

“OK. I remember.” Came the shaky reply.

    Now Laurie is the manicured sort who wears skirts and high-heeled sandals everywhere. I felt it prudent to warn her about the potential for snakes and mud between her toes. Over and over I stressed sturdy footwear.

(Little Chris Donaldson delivers round bales and goes riding with his friend)

When it was just about 5 o’clock the phone rang again.

    “We can’t find you.”

    “If you’re in cell range you haven’t gone far enough.”
“We’re not in cell range. I’m at somebody’s house.”

“What?”

“We stopped and knocked on someone’s door. There’s a big barking dog.”

“OK, have you gone over the one lane bridge?”

“Yes. That was a little scary.”

“Scary? I think it’s charming. Whatever, turn around and look for the GIANT wooden entrance and the BIG WHITE HOUSE.” Seriously, I don’t know how they missed it and personally, I wouldn’t knock on anyone’s house here. This is the county, they are all armed and they’re fine until you step on their property. Two miles away we call it – The “Deliverance” Compound.

“Can you walk down to the end of the driveway and wave us in?”

“Sure.”

    A few minutes later they arrived safely. I quickly glanced at her feet. They were fashion boots with a chunky heel, but they’d do. We laughed, hugged and giggled through a tour of the place, cornbread, chili, the apple pie Toby made and a few pitchers of margaritas. It felt like a real home. Here I was with my friend from high school, Tom, and Laurie. Henry of course, chimed in and Laurie, a Henry fan, egged him on. Henry not needing much encouragement launched pell-mell into his stand-up routine and one-liners about our old principal and various other topics. Laurie has an infectious laugh and howled at his antics with abandon. (feeding the cows some cookies)

Laurie’s friend, not particularly an animal person was being fairly tolerant of having his crotch sniffed on numerous occasions. He was interested in Fort Flashback and the principles behind it. He looked at the business plan, the coffee house proposal, and excited to hear about Tom portraying William Bradford in schools as he is on the school board in Bellingham. (Bruno in the round bale feeder)

(Laurie & Abe)

“This is a terrific idea, why doesn’t it get done?”  He asked as so many have before.

Our new benefactor said he was going to speak to some principals about getting Tom into to some more of the local schools. He was hopeful that this might generate some local support. He suggested starting small and just doing farm tours. The problem I explained is - free or not, you must have a certain amount of bathrooms per child and appropriate hand-washing facilities, parking, as well as handicap parking. You must have permits and liability insurance to cover any problems. These things aren’t negotiable when it comes to servicing children. And these things cost money. Money we don’t any longer have due to the funds we’ve spent on engineering, architectural plans, septic, geological studies, septic permits, wetlands delineations, land surveys enhancements, well water etc. (a few fall leaves on the pond)

    Just as they were about to leave, Irish, Deli, Luther, Vivian, Bruno and Luther came unglued. Racing to the windows they barked with a ferocious intensity I hadn’t seem the use in quite some time. Tom and I went outside with our super duper light up the world flashlight, my friend Teresa had insisted we purchase. But we saw nothing. The barking abated. And the two city dwellers walked nervously to their car.

September 26th Send In the Clown

 (Phoebe lounges with her "spa" birthday party avocado & oatmeal mask)

(Facial Fun)

(BELOW -Tom puts peanuts on Phoebe- when told of her ridiculous appearance, she just shrugged - "that's my uncle")

     Tom is the birthday party king. Not that the rest of us (Lisa, Chris and I) are any slouches when it comes to making refrigerator mazes for toddlers and safari excursions for rough and tumble kindergartners, but every year he does something to make the kids’ parties special – if he can. One year he made a sixteen-foot wooden elaborately painted she-dragon with eyelashes to stand in the Donaldson’s yard for Quinn’s “princess party”. Another time he created a 10-foot long python cake, face painting became a staple, caricatures and anything else the kids could dream up. As Quinn and Phoebe discussed who'd had better birthday parties because of Tom, they suggested that if he got tired of advertising and Fort Flashback didn't work out, perhaps he could make a lot of money as a birthday party clown. (Pea - as tattoo Ernie) (getting ready for a swirly tattoo)

This year, he didn’t really think he’d be involved, as Phoebe had decided for her eighth birthday party to have a “spa” theme. This meant soak in the Jacuzzi, manicures, facials and sundry other spa related activities. Little did he realize he would become “Ernie” the airbrush tattoo artist specializing in butterflies, ladybugs and the occasional gecko (my Peabrain and Quinnderella with her new geko tattoo)

(close up - with sparkles)

Quinn takes to these parties like a duck to water dancing around, clapping "I want all my butterflies to lie down now"as she snaps. "I'm talking, I'm talking, are you listening? Clap if you're listening."

    She and Lisa were fabulous as the manicurists.
I heard Lisa asking questions like "Are you married?"
    "Ahh no. I'm eight."
    "Is there someone special?"
    "Ahh no. I'm eight, but there is. . ."

I handled the warm avocado masks (avocado, oatmeal, lemon juice and honey) which I applied liberally with a basting  brush. I was told it was ewy, gooey and very relaxing. Luckily, I wasn't at the rinsing station.

Chris handled the service end of the party - batting clean-up.  His birthday is next. Hmm?

By the end of the party, Pea had that airbrush cranking which meant Lisa and I got crazy great tattoos. Lisa got a tortoise on her chest while I chose the snappy looking tri-color gecko

(Lisa presents the party cake - strawberry shortcake  ala' Nana) (Quinn indulges)

August 15th Rolling On De River

    The day had finally arrived to go tubing! To make sure we were there on time, Tom and I made our requisite run to Lowes™ early in the day.  We also had bills to mail, taco fix'ns to buy and so we hurried. The minute we got home, we jumped in our suits, grabbed our tubes and sped down to Acme to wait for the Donaldsons.

    We blew up the tubes, got some snacks and waited. We drove to Strand Road the drop off place for the car and called them. They were going to be even later – they went a different way and got lost. We played games like “Going On a Picnic” It seems there was a miscommunication. We waited for two hours. (Tom, Henry, Sam and Kimona kill time playing games)

    By the time the properly apologetic Donaldsons arrived it was simply too late to go. We couldn’t risk being on the river after dark. And because Lisa was working at the Emergency Clinic and Chris had a business trip to New York, we didn’t think we could go on Sunday. I felt terrible. After all that preparation,  Sam and Kimona were going to miss going.

Like every Hollywood ending - All was darkest before a lady told Chris  there was a short 1/2 mile run we could do. Something was better than nothing. We hopped in. The sun was hot and the water cool. The snowy mountains peered at us from the distance as we bobbed along with the current. (Kimona give it the thumbs up)

(Henry and Sam go head first)

(Quinn trying out the boy's method)

    A few minutes into the float there was a flurry of rescheduling. We’re all going again tomorrow – except Lisa (you just can’t blow off the Emergency Clinic)

(Tired but happy Sam)

(Packing in the Pheeb)

August 5th An "Oink Oink" Here?

   

I woke up to a quiet house. Every one of the dogs, cats and kids were asleep so I stealthily brewed a pot of coffee and lounged around sipping my elixir in my green flannels on the porch watching the mist rise off the valley as the God rays streamed over the hills. The grass was laden with heavy dew; the cows lay in the pasture chewing their cud. The only movements were the robins hopping around looking for worms.

    I wasn’t alone long. Miss Phoebe came creeping out wearing her flannel nightgown backward. It looked familiar the pocket draped over her left shoulder, and then I realized it was my mother’s. My mother would be pleased to know she has created generations of women wearing flannels with tennis shoes or work boots well into the day.

    Phoebe and I began to discuss our latest acquisitions and mergers. How did we feel about the sheep now that they arrived? Was Bruno fitting in? Do the goats have enough space? What did she think of my new compound idea? We thoughtfully discussed these topics and my eventual plans for chickens and turkeys to really round out the barnyard.

    “Why don’t you get a pig?” Phoebe asked with her big blue eyes blinking at me. "Farms are supposed to have pigs."

    “Well, I really don’t want a pig. Maryruth has told me horror stories about pigs and how vicious they can be. And Phoebe, you know how big they get. Really I don’t think a pig is for me.”

    “Have you looked at Heritage pigs?” She ingeniously asked. “I mean didn’t farmers have lots of pigs back then? Maybe there’s a nice little piggy that doesn’t get too big. After all Tante (German for aunt) you have a pig pen in the barn all ready.” So much for the whole dumb blonde thing I’ve reflexively subscribed to being brunette. This little cherub is shrewd.

    The next thing you know we’re snuggled up in front of the computer on the American Breeds Livestock Conservancy website checking out rare, heritage, and colonial pigs. Sure enough we find one Thomas Jefferson documented as a breed  by 1804. They existed prior to that, but 1804 is when they were recognized as The American Guinea Hog. – I guess they couldn’t call them Guinea Pigs. They’re black, stand about 30” tall and get between 100 and 300 pounds. They’re known for their ability to forage and their gentle nature. It seems they ran wild in the forests and swamps until farmers would simply catch them and use them for bacon, ham, sausage and pork chops  of course, but every part of the pig would be used including the hair to make brushes etc.

    The next thing you know, she’s dialing the number to cascademeadowsfarm.com in Oregon. They have rare, heritage breeds, but not necessarily dating as far back as ours. They have Dexter cattle, Pilgrim Geese, Alpine goats, Icelandic sheep and Guinea Hogs. Clearly a gaping hole in our farm is the absence of swine.
(American Guinea Hog Piglet)
    I called Pea and informed him of my new pig discovery.

    “Well, don’t go get one today.”

    “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not getting a pig now, I’m simply researching animals for Fort Flashback in a responsible way.”

    'Did you say my thinking you might get a pig today was being ridiculous? Me thinking you might run out with the kids in your mobile Honda barn and come home with a piglet or two is ridiculous?”

    “OK, you’re right. It’s not ridiculous.” I conceded. “My sister thinks I need a Shick Program.”

    “A Shit program?”

    “Well, maybe that’s how it might work. No. She said Shick animal program.”

    “Oh.”

    

(Phoebe directs traffic)
(the kids "encourage" the goslings to try the pond)
(They don't want to stay in - at first)
(Mabel, Alfred, Clara, Lloyd, Ruthie, Matilda, Cleveland and Quackmire all start to like the pond)
(But only for a short time) (Then they need to go home and rinse off all that nature in the baby swimming pool)

    The rest of the day was filled with scooping donkey poop, picking flowers, mixing cement, plotting fences shooting arrows and vacuuming the house, ambushing the girls with water balloons, (The boys see payback- the water balloon war begins) (Henry has great aim Phoebe gets it) (Quinn gets it) (Sam pelts Kimona)
 teaching the geese to swim in the pond, snuggling Bruno, reassuring Luther he's still loved and making homemade pumpkin pie ice cream with hot caramel sauce.

August 3rd The Eyes Have It

(Wayne working in the attic)

    This morning I woke up and realized I was out of coffee. OUT OF COFFEE. How could something like this happen? I scrounged around and found half a cup left over in the thermos™ from yesterday. I zapped it and went and fed the animals. Everyone was still snug as a bug. Miracle was peering into the sheep pen and gave me a loud bray of good morning. I spent some time trying to get the sheep to eat out of my hand and fed Miracle some extra treats.

    Luckily, Wayne was arriving when I returned. He remembered I was low on coffee and showed up to work on the attic bearing coffee beans and a grinder – just in case. Bless his heart. While I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, I spoke to Phoebe who told me NO NAME PUPPY was now officially, Charlie Donaldson. Full cup of coffee in hand I went about the day.

(Abbey with Vivian's toy)

    The kids and I were going to work on the sheep pen today, but Andrea had shown me how to clip the lamb’s feet yesterday afternoon and I began to worry about my goats. So Kimona, Henry and Sam helped me get Rachel up on the milking station. Sam held her head and fed her treats while Henry and I tried to clip her feet. I was a nervous wreck. I worried about wear to clip and how much to clip. I didn’t want to hurt her, and I yet I knew it had to be done. Frantic, I called Marcia at St. Johns Creamery. I was embarrassed, but I was more concerned about the goat so I swallowed hard and asked if I should take them to a vet, but she just laughed. Marcia explained what to do and said if I wanted to come up for a lesson next week she'd show me on a few of her goats. I thanked her and went back to the barn to try again. One by one we went through the goats, but Henry and I both knew I’d done a poor job.

    I suggested to Henry we should just take the goats to Marcia. He didn’t want to because he was afraid she’d take them away because we were bad goat owners. I told her this when I spoke to her and she said “Throw them in the van and bring them here. We’ll get them fixed up.” She reminded me she killed two of her first four.

(St. John Creamery)

(Marcia has a heard of 125)

    An hour later, the four of us and the four goats were arriving in Everett in my mobile barn. I knew Marcia had heritage chickens, Dominiques- so in the back of my mind, I thought we might end up with another passenger on the way home.

     When we arrived, I remembered how much I envied Marcia’s compound. She has a gate and a fence that surround her property so goats and chickens simply wander about. There are pens as she has different groups of goats, but others roam at will. – Mental note mention to Pea we need a gate at the entrance. As we stood there waiting for Marcia we met a nasty billy goat named Hans that drank our goats urine. So gross. He walked around with his lewd tongue hanging out and curling his lips back. Kimona was traumatized.

(Hans- the billy goat- complete with full beard)
(Christina getting her medication)
(Irish's sister by another mister)

    (Rachel, Christina, Riley and Alexander waiting to go)

I sent Henry to look for Marcia. The moment she came in to view I felt better. She wormed them, gave them their minerals and finished their feet. I felt as though I’d done my taxes. All was well. And then, Henry came up holding one of Marcia’s dogs, a rat terrier. He was three months old. Henry cried and Henry begged and I stood there feeling nothing. I did not want another dog. There was no way in this world I was going to give in and get yet another animal. And then we started talking about our mouse problem in the barn and the constant problem Kristi is facing in the shop and my resolve started waning. (Henry and Bruno)
  (Kimona, Henry, Sam and Bruno pour on the pressure)

Tom had talked of barn cats, but I’m terrified of feral cats and I really don’t want any animal that isn’t socialized. I called Tom, he was indifferent – he said it was up to me, he’s not by any means a small dog person, but he agreed the mouse and rat problem needed a solution. I took a long deep look into Bruno's eyes and then into Henry's and thoughts of Wilma, the puppy my mom bought and returned came flooding back to me - moments later; the chicken with her head cut off was driving away with a Rat Terrier.
(The backseat boys)

July 29th One Ringy Dingy - Two Ringy Dingy

(Henry & Sam - after they created facial hair with Sharpee™ and make-up - they say they are Paris Street musicians - hmm Dad?)

    Well, the boys did get made up in their sleep, and they did get alfalfa in their cereal and were just rinsing it out when the phone rang. Quinn answered it because she’s twelve and a girl of that age has supernatural phone answering abilities.

    “It’s your husband!”
(The culprits- unprepared for revenge?)
  

    “How does she always answer the phone? Does she stand there all day?” Pea asked like man who can’t fathom answering the phone at all. “I don’t have much time, we just had an earthquake it shook us pretty good. They want us in the conference room, we might have to get out of the building - you can Google™ it. I’m OK, I’ve got to go.” And he hung up.

    We did find out it was a 5.8 and looked at the map, the epicenter etc. We called the kids’ mom, but couldn’t reach her.

    Not too long later, the phone rang again. Quinn was at the pond building a "frog hotel" so the phone answering was up to me.

    “I’m OK. Everyone’s OK.” Began my sister. “We, Phoebe, Nana and I have been in a pretty significant car accident. The airbags deployed. An eighteen-year old suddenly turned in front of me in an intersection. The police are here and have already given him a ticket for not yielding to traffic. I’ve got to go.” And she hung up.

    We waited – every time the phone rang we all looked at each other. What next? It usually comes in threes. Or was Toby getting kicked out of Canada the third thing?

    The phone rang. Quinn answered it.

    “Mom! No! Ahhh, Ohhhh,” Quinn almost whimpered. And she hung up.

    “What!? What?” We all demanded.

    “We got approved for our new puppy.” She said smiling gleefully.

July 22nd Fly Away Home

    "Life isn’t fair" - my mother's mantra.  I learned it's true meaning, I mean really learned about life's cruel insjustice it as a little girl when I first realized I couldn’t drink chocolate malts whenever I wanted and still fit in my jeans.  I learn it again and again every time Tom goes home.

    Monday was the appointed day and 3:00PM was the appointed hour for clean up, in order to get to the plane on time. So reluctantly everyone did as they were programmed to do without tears.

    "It's funny, no matter how long I stay, four days or ten, I always wish for one more day." Tom said quietly.

    "I know." There wasn't much else to say.

    Per usual the ride to the airport was sullen and silent. Craig being exactly like his father was asleep in the backseat before we hit the first turn in the road on Mosquito Lake. Tom occasionally made idle conversation about things I should take care of. He reminded me to put a second coat of paint on his fence. He briefly held my hand as I drove. We discussed cutting the tops of the posts next time and finding some decorative tops to really finish it off. We talked of dentists, payments and all the things we accomplished while he was here like the closing in of the mudroom, hanging the medicine cabinet, and the garden gate finally getting a latch.
  (Starting on the mudroom) (Plywood dividing open jacuzzi area and mudroom)

    As we said good-bye at the airport, my eyes started to well up and I got in the car where I proceeded to sob. Henry patted my hand and said soothingly,” Mama, he’ll be back. He’ll be back.”

    “I know you’re right, Honey. It just hit me hard this time. I’ll be ok.” And we drove away.

    Tears dried, busy chatting about going to Lisa’s and running errands, we barely heard the phone ring. Henry glanced at the missed call and said, “It’s Daddy.”

    “Well, call him back. Maybe he forgot something.”

    “Daddy? Did you call us?” Silence. “What?” Silence. “Daddy says, they’re not going.”

“Are you sure that’s what he said? He wasn’t kidding? Call him back.”

“OK.” – “Daddy, Mama wants to know if you’re kidding? No. He's not kidding. There is technical difficulty, come and get ‘em.” Henry relayed.
(new gate and fence boards - door to left goes to mudroom. - windows on left are the game room)

    And so, Tom and I worked on the fence boards one more evening while the boys played darts, cleaned the kitchen like angels and made tacos. After dinner in the dining room under the chandelier with lights as bright as Dodger Stadium - Craig opened a can of whoop-ass and kicked our butts at the food-chain card game “Predator”. It was nice having that If-you-could-just-please-stay-just-a-little-bit-longer-time

July 20th Our Big Backyard

(Craig heads out to the field)

   

More work and more trips to Lowes™ and Wayne back for more made this day seem like any other day except for when the entertainment committee arrived, our neighbors Kristi and Stan. They came roaring up in their big shiny truck with food. For no particular reason, they sat on the edge of their truck as we worked and chatted. NASCAR, drag racing, tubing (down the river) and guns were mainstays of the conversation. We’re talking serious county. I asked Stan if he wanted a beer and he said “No. I have one in the truck.” (Stan)

(Craig gone native)

    These are two are salt of the Earth. The type of people you call in an emergency and you know, no matter what time it is, they’ll be there. Kristi and Stan laugh easily, feel as comfortable as an old pair of work boots and you don’t have to fuss. They’re people who know who they are, in fact they knew each other only eight weeks when they got married. When it’s right it’s right.

   

Unfortunately they had other plans and couldn’t stay for our barbecue out by the pond. Just as they were about to leave, Annie, Quinn, Phoebe and Winifred showed up. Tom whipped up his father’s chicken recipe that’s being handed down through the family and we didn't dally getting our party going -"shee-it"

 after all it's Saturday Night. (Tom, Annie, Craig and Wayne - seated)

Our last but not least important guests didn’t travel far, for our barbecue at the pond. Kristi (another one) and Olie (short for Olerud- Kristi is a baseball fan) her dog a Katrina Rescue walked over from their new home in Grandpa Horn’s old place, which means I finally have a neighbor lady – like on Califa Street when I had Anice and Nona.
(Annie watches the meal being prepared by the menfolk)
    We gorged on chicken, corn, watermelon (ala ‘Big Lu” with Pico de Gallo and lemon), potato salad and fresh crab Wayne caught out of the bay the other day. While the kids fished, the pack of dogs played and we sat enjoying the day turn into evening.
  (Wayne's dog - Abbey showing all the other pups how it's done) (Phoebe & Henry go fishing)
  (Perplexed Henry actually catches a fish as vegetarian Quinn screams "throw it back before you kill it's little trout spirit" and Phoebe shrieks for no real reason other than it seems called for)

    Annie and I noticed smoke. We were all amused to find out it was a campsite. Our pond is close to one of our property lines and there were campers on the adjoining vacant land. It felt absurd to be in your backyard and  see people really camping not just kids pitching a tent in the neighbors yard, but really truly “getting away from it all”.  I feel extremely lucky.

(There is so much stuff and so many dogs - Wayne drives the food back to the house with Craig and Quinn following behind)

July 19th Getting It Together

(Craig is a one man jungle gym)

Saturday started slowly and out of sorts. Everyone crawled out of bed and padded around the house in different directions with heavy blinks and loud yawns. Coffee wafted through the house and cups followed us around most of the day.

(Deli inspecting her new place of encarceration)

Tom led the way and we all set to work. Gates were built, fence posts painted and wire rolled. The screw gun battery was changed and charged hourly. (Tom and his- rather my new gate)  (other people worked too - except Lu)

    Our friend new friend, Wayne came out with his tool belt and happily joined in. Like the answer to a prayer he spearheaded the drywall in the bathroom, knocking down the header over the bathtub we all agreed looked ridiculous and served no purpose.

We took Miracle out and let her loll around eating grass, flirting with Tom, when suddenly she went berzerk. She started carrying on and running away. It was a doe and buck. She suddenly was at war. She came running back stomping the ground like a flamenco dancer and braying like a bandit. She looked fierce and regal with her fly mask on – a like a Thoroughbred in a jousting match.

About 8:00PM the whistle blew and Wayne took over the grill as he barbecued steaks and salmon loaded with garlic. Many beers and games of darts later Wayne and his trusty companion, Abbey (the golden lab) went home and, most of us went to bed. However, amped on root beer, daddy adrenaline and jonesing for a bit of bro Henry was still wide awake at 4:30AM when he came dancing in our room asking if he could have some more chocolate cake he’d made and use the computer.

“GO TO BED!” we cried in unison.

July 18th Sunrise - Sunset

(seagull on point)

We all got up early and fed the animals, had coffee and showed Craig around. Instead of jumping right into our usual project mode, we decided we should take a day to just be a family. We stopped at the new café on Mt. Baker Highway (that used to be “Carol’s Coffee Cup” and then “Carol’s Girls”) for lunch, sat out on the patio enjoying the sunshine and Pellegrino™. Afterward we headed into to do some kayaking off Chuckanut Hwy, the PCH.

Lisa and Chris bought a sea kayak and its just a short jaunt from their house to Larrabee State Park where there is a small boat ramp. Craig and Tom donned their life vests on and hoisted the kayak on Chris’s Honda™ Element and in two shakes of a lamb’s tail they were off on their sea adventure. Henry and I too were off - to his eleven-year-old routine physical. I’d waited a month for this appointment and I wasn’t going to give it up for love or money. So we looked on the bright side and thought this would give Tom and Craig to have some father/son time before we returned. Not that they needed it as they drive to and from work together an hour and a half each way every day, but a rationalization is a rationalization and it was working for me. And Henry.

The physical went like most do, a cough here a shot there, but there was one notable exception. A frustrated nurse complained while taking Henry’s blood pressure that the sleeve was too small for his muscle, she’d have to get an adult-sized one. A sly smile crossed Henry’s face and hung there for a long time. He was so proud.

(Self Portrait)

We called when we were on our way back. Tom and Craig were having a great time tooling around the bay watching all the crabbers empty their pots.
(Craig, Henry & Proud Pea)

It was then the brothers went out together while Tom and I sat on the beach enjoying the sand, squirrels, seagulls and constant boat traffic. The boat dock wasn’t empty once while we sat there. Tom said it was busier than SeaTac. The crabbers would pull in set their traps and leave for a while and then come back and pick up their traps. It’s a wonder there is any crab left in Bellingham Bay.

(Henry & Craig) (more brotherly love)

Our next stop was Quinn and Phoebe’s Broadway Extravaganza. A grand finale for the singing camp the girls attended - given by BAAY (Bellingham Arts Academy for Youth) on State Street. We were a little late and Lisa text me there was limited seating so Craig and Henry went on a walk around town headed in the direction of Mallard’s Ice Cream while Tom and I went in expecting to endure the performance. Instead, we were bowled over by some of the performances. Not all were fabulous, but all were wonderful. The very idea the kids had the confidence to get up in front of an audience and sing. I can tell you right now I lip sync in church.

(Quinn -12 and Phoebe 7)

(Quinn & Phoebe with David Post)
The director, David Post is certainly teaching kids confidence and stage presence. Neither Tom nor I could believe seven-year-old Phoebe standing on stage singing a solo. Quinn! Well, she doesn’t look twelve in my old sequin dress leftover from a bazillion years ago. She was frustrated because she didn’t have time to memorize the lyrics to one of her songs, “Hear the Bells” and so she was rushed and didn’t feel she did at all well on that song.  I was frustrated I couldn’t get any good camera angles. (may Caleb Deschanel  forgive me - my camera and editing work film is far below par, but the girls are sweet).

The girls pestered me at intermission about where Henry was and why he was missing their show, but they were happy he was spending time with Craig.

When we finally got home, the evening proved to be just beginning as Craig came prepared with “Talladega Nights”. Henry popped it in the DVD and we all sat down for family movie night. Imagine my surprise when Karen roared on the screen – a wild  cougar.

I may have forgotten to mention but our doorbell has about 50 different “rings” and one of them is a cougar snarl. Henry has found it great fun to “ring” the doorbell when he feels I’m at my most vulnerable.

July 17th Wait 'Til Your Father Gets Home

   

(baby barn swallows on the fan in the mud room - no windows - yet)

     Henry and I spent the day doing laundry, (my least favorite task in the world),  going to the market (a close second) and in general getting ready for Tom and Craig’s arrival. Craig is Tom’s eldest son (25) and in the eyes of an eleven-year-old he is synonymous with a comic book hero come to life. An evil mother, I used this to my advantage. I learned I could get Henry to do just about anything including clean his room and even the cat box if I said, “You know, Craig’s going to come in here and I don’t know what he’s going to think if he finds (fill in the blank) dirty like this.” Suddenly, his German emerged and my little “pig-boy” temporarily turned into Mr. Clean™.

    After a day of tidying up and waiting almost two lifetimes to go to the airport I found Henry sitting in the car like a basset hound willing the car to go . Seeing this pathetic sight, I figured we might as well leave really early and kill sometime in town running errands before running out to the airport. It was then we discovered the car battery was dead. Dead as a doornail dead. Henry was almost hysterical wondering what we would do. I simply called AAA™.

   

“Hi. I live out in the middle of nowhere and my car battery is dead,”

   

“Oh. I’m sure there’s someone around. Don’t worry, what’s your address.” I told him and waited the obligatory few minutes before hearing the inevitable.

“Hmm. You’re right. You are out in the middle of nowhere. I can’t get anyone there for almost three hours.”

    “Three hours. Yikes. I was supposed to pick up some people at the airport. I guess I’ll have to make some calls. Thanks.”

    “I’m really sorry.”

    “Thanks, I appreciate your help. It’s beautiful once you get to the middle of nowhere, but it does have its disadvantages.

    “No. I know I’ve been meaning to get up there now that the sun is shining.”

    “Don’t blink.” (That’s a joke sure to evoke camaraderie from the local population.)

    “No kidding. Good luck.”

I called Lisa and Annie and somehow we’d get Craig and Tom picked up. I’d just explained the situation to a very downtrodden face half hidden in a Quicksilver™ knit cap when the phone rang.
(everything got washed - even the down comforters)

    “Hello?”

    “Triple A™ again Ma’am I found someone to come and start your battery so you can make it to the airport almost on time.”

    “That is so nice of you thank you for continuing to check for me. I really appreciate it. Oh, I grew up on a farm. It’s wonderful. Have a great day.” Things were looking up as I saw Henry begin jumping in the air like a kangaroo.

    “We’re going to see Dadddddy! And Craiiiig!!!!!”

    I know the time apart from Tom is hard on all of us, but when I saw Henry’s raw excitement and sheer joy it really hit home how much he craves his father. I hope we’ve done the right thing and made the right decisions. Of course, there are kids whose fathers work fishing in Alaska or go on location shooting a movie or even are serving in Iraq so he is not alone- but I don’t know that these instances are any more effective than my mother telling me there were starving children in China that would love to eat my cauliflower.
(Henry getting a ride on Craig through downtown - with a stop at Mallard's Ice Cream)

July 10th The Sounds of Silence

(Henry trying to teach the geese to fly) (Henry explains the finer points of flying - A little "Fly Away Home")