Ramblings

Most years it's the same thing:  After a bitter winter, all of us long for spring, and usually, at some point in March, there might be a day or two with highs in the 60's.  Or it may get up to 80 in February.  See, that's the thing; almost anything can happen, weather-wise, in Missouri.  We do have four seasons that are usually well-defined, but those seasons are never quite the same.  But we like to complain, don't we?  So every year we all forget that there is no "same" weather pattern in the midwest and whine about it.  It might snow a lot in winter, but maybe not.  Last year we hardly had any spring; we went right into 90 degree temperatures in May, with little rain.  This year, typical for Missouri springtime, it'll be warm for awhile, then cold... sometimes all that in one day.

So I wash a lot of clothes when it's like this.  It's been up to 80 a few times already this year:  I will get out of bed, keep my flannel pajamas on, slip on a fluffy housecoat, and enjoy my "me time" with the dog until Cliff gets up at 7.  At some point I get dressed, and maybe it's 60 degrees by then, so I put on appropriate-for-the-weather sweatshirt and jeans.  By noon I have the windows open and have changed into shorts and a t-shirt because it's 75.  If it's still warm at bedtime, I dig out a light summer nightgown for bed and toss the flannel pajamas in the dirty clothes.  I have now changed clothes three times, but wait!  If we go anywhere during the day that requires my getting out of the car and going inside a place where I'll see people, that's another change, because I only wear shorts at home these days.  My legs look like a road map of Georgia with all the veins showing.  Unless I've been outside gardening, none of these clothes really gets all that dirty.  But I can't keep piling them in the floor for use the next day.  So eventually I do laundry, even though half of the articles of clothing were only worn two to four hours.  I don't like to hang clothes I've worn back in the closet, and there aren't that many other places to put lightly-worn clothes.  

We did have a nice weekend before the rain started again this week.  It has rained a little every day, with us receiving over an inch in three days.  Today there was only a morning sprinkle, but it is cold.  The furnace has been kicking on from time to time.  It's 50 now at 4 PM, and heading down to around 40 tonight.  What a roller coaster!  I'll tell you, though, it's great for the morel mushrooms!  They like things cool and damp.    

Since this appeared to be the first day we've had without rain for awhile... and since I had four loads of clothes to wash... I decided to hang some clothes on the line.  Yes, even with the temperature at 50.  Since there's a brisk wind, the clothes are almost all dry already.  

While I was at the clothesline, I took a trip down memory lane, remembering how women of my mother's generation took great pride in their clean clothes hanging on the line.  They wanted their whites to be almost blinding, no matter what it took, and their colored clothes had to be bright and lovely.  They didn't just hang the clothes up willy-nilly; all whites hung together, towels together, jeans and overalls together.  You get the picture.  I don't really make an effort to hang anything a certain way; I just pick up whatever my hand touches.  I'm not creating art here, I'm just trying to get my clothes dried in a frugal manner.  Besides, the clothesline is in my back yard, which faces the pasture.  It's a very rare occasion when anybody is there to see anything; I like that about my back yard.  But when I was a kid, women liked to admire the neighbor's wash and comment on the bright whites (and perhaps judge people by their laundry).  I remember Cliff's mom saying, as we were together going someplace in the car, "Oh, look at that pretty wash!"  When my sister and her husband used to be winter Texans she told about riding down into Mexico on a train, seeing lots of poor people living in shacks.  She said some of them had laundry hanging out on a line, and even in their poverty, their white clothes were practically blinding, they were so clean.  

If you drive through Amish country on a Monday you will see clothes on lines everywhere, weather permitting, hung more or less the way my mom and her friends did them.  Orderly,  bright, neat, and sorted according to kind.  

Here's a picture of my two children playing in the soapy water of my wringer washer.  Before my daughter was born we invested in a dryer, which was kept in the basement of that old house.  I was SO happy, knowing I wouldn't be freezing my hands off hanging out diapers in winter again.  

We could have gotten an automatic washer at the same time, but I was stubborn and really hated to get rid of my old wringer washer.  I don't know why it's hard for me to let go of old things.  I get so attached to them.  It's a trait my mother passed on to me.  

Enough musings for today.

Yours truly, 
Donna

Such lovely weather

Because the moles, and all the freezing/thawing over the past year, completely ruined our yard, we decided to tear it up and reseed it.  (I just went to flush a tick that was crawling up my neck... I'm back now.)  Anyhow, the reseeding did not turn out well.  We know spring isn't the proper time to plant grass, but it was such a mess!  Well, we should have saved our money and Cliff's efforts and done it this fall.  There were several factors involved in the failure including poor equipment, weather, and other factors; but what we have now is a yard that's about one-third grass and two-thirds weeds.  We shall plant again in the fall and hope for the best.  I'm sure it will do fine then; we'll be using a different method, too.

I try never to complain about rainfall, especially in spring when you expect plenty of rain.  I will say, though, that when it's been raining for several days straight, a few sunny days sure make me happy.  Our weekend was glorious.

This morning after breakfast I asked Alexa the temperature; she said it was 56.  I stepped onto the porch and knew it wasn't that cold, but I grabbed a jean jacket and put it on; then Gabe and I went and got Apollo the Great Dane and headed out toward the pasture and I was shedding the jacket almost as soon as we got started.  Cliff and the grandson mowed a lot of the pasture yesterday, for which Gabe and I are grateful.  Apollo, however, seems to prefer the tall grass.  When we got to the un-mowed patch where Arick planted a wildlife plot, Titan dived in and had a blast.  You will notice Gabe growling at him at some point, and I will address that after you watch the video.



My little dog has almost totally stopped barking like an idiot at people he sees out the window.  He will still let out a growl and sometimes a little bark or two, but I say "no" and he's done.  I don't use the stinger much now.  It isn't necessary.  The big surprise with using this little training tool is how many bad behaviors it is fixing in my dog.  "Come" means something to Gabe now, and if he's running away from me, he turns and comes back on command.  I try not to over-use the thing, because even though it doesn't shock, it makes a sound that hurts a dog's ears.  We don't hear a thing when I use it, although the grandson does... which makes me wonder about him.  I guess I should google "people who hear dog whistles" and see if he has a problem.  

There is another behavior of Gabe's I thought needed correcting:  When I turn Apollo loose, or if we take Gabe with us to the grandson's house, Apollo tries to play with him;  then Gabe growls and grabs the big dog's jowls viciously.  So yesterday I tried zapping Gabe when he attacked Apollo.  The poor boy came cowering to me and got to a place where I was between the two, even trying to climb up my leg at one point.  That's when I realized he wasn't being mean:  He was terrified of being hurt.  I have that feeling every time I'm outside when Apollo comes running toward me, because Great Danes are clumsy.  If they come running at you from behind, it sounds like a horse coming at you.  I usually stand completely still if he's running toward me, in hopes he won't end up running into my artificial knee... or my other one, for that matter, because I don't like pain.  Titan, the grandson's Great Dane that died, ran into my artificial knee about two weeks after the surgery and it worried me to death, it hurt so much.  Evidently no permanent damage was done.  Anyhow, back to Gabe:  I thought he was fighting Apollo out of jealousy.  I was wrong.  He was afraid he was going to get hurt.  Apollo has no ill will toward any dogs, as far as I know, and he is very sweet to me.  Still, he's big and clumsy and plays rough, not realizing his own strength.  So I'm letting Gabe growl at him now, if that's what he needs to do.   

I ordered two tomato plants from Gurney's.  Plants, not seeds.  Nobody had a particular variety I wanted to try (Defiant), and I've ordered various flowers before as plants; they did fine.  However, I received notice these tomato plants were shipped a week ago and I still don't have them.  They sent it FedEx, and FedEx was to deliver it to the post office.  Well, I think it arrived at the post office Friday.  I'll probably receive it today.  Those plants had better be alive, or the company is going to hear from me.  Costs a fortune to buy and ship live plants in that manner.

I had better start dinner.  It always takes longer to do a blog entry than I expect it to, and then I'm behind in my meal preparation.  

Bye-bye.  

Here are the boys after one of their big bursts of speed: