Ducks!

 Yes, we have more rain, but that is probably not the reason the ducks were in the back yard. They had discovered "free food" where the hens were picking up scratch. And Thompson said, "Oh, hello no!" He chased them into the air and out of the yard. But both dogs would really like to get into the front yard to chase those stinkin' cottontail rabbits! They sit on the back of the couch and whine, bark, and otherwise indicate their frustration at not being able to get out there and chase those critters. Sigh. We all have disappointments in life, huh.

Reading the JP (Jerusalem Post) this morning and saw a recipe for potato salad. Lance could not believe his mother would actually put SWEET pickles in potato salad, but this house is without dill pickles currently. And someone even forgot to put in onion! Not that Lance would eat anything with onion in it. He feels about onions about the same way as Jennifer feels about liver---not happening!

While we were discussing recipes, he asked about making gravy. It is not possible to make gravy with less than two cups of milk if that is the way a person has always made it. Lewis liked gravy--lots of gravy. And biscuits. How does one make half a pan of biscuits. Lance suggested making up a batch and putting half in a freezer bag. That would work, maybe. Ah, adapting to life and eating alone. You would think that by now it would have not been a consideration.

Sitting here listening to Google play music from the 70s. It is more cheerful than most things from many other sources. Can't listen to Willie Nelson any longer. Too sad for words. Too many country western songs are about loss and sad situations. And any of the more "modern" music is just too out there to be sensible enough for an old woman. Picky, picky, picky--right?

The two broody hens are still locked up in a separate coop to keep them out of the nests. Think they will spend the night out there a couple of days. Maybe that will take care of their attitudes. Can't understand why they became broody at this young age! Usually they are at least two before they get this way. Maybe it is because they are such high production hens. Who knows. 

Reading a book on my Kindle about an Irishman who moved to Australia--on purpose. He took up the care and running of a museum in a little backwater town. The folks who owned the land did not believe he could make it work, but with the help of a couple of old codgers, he made it work and made a profit. Meanwhile he discovered that the owners were running a human smuggling ring taking men from Tasmania to places where they could find work. Sounds a bit like the mess that they discovered in Houston yesterday--90 men huddled inside one house. Someone needs to be kicked--hard--for that mess. Makes life look sad from the outside. How can that many men find jobs when so many jobs have been lost to this stupid pandemic? And do they even speak English? Shaking my head here.

Walked out to check the rain gauge and discovered that some of the micro-clover seeds had produced plants! YaY! Put out to freaking bags of that stuff to try to get clover to cover that entire lot. Didn't happen. Not sure if wild birds ate the seeds or what, but at least a little came up to make plants with blooms. That means that they will make seeds for this year. Planted some in the front yard as well, but have not seen even one tiny clover plant. But the east lot is also covered in those little yellow flowers--a carpet of yellow at this point. Have never seen that many flowers that close together. Kinda neat.

The Seven Sisters Rose is drooping over with so many blooms on it. And the ground under it is pink with petals that have fallen off. Took a picture and posted it on FB earlier. Sylvia posed for me. Then looking out the front windows is the cheerful sight of poppies moving in the wind. Found some seed pods already making on the ones in the walkway. Will have to keep watch for the early brown shell so the seeds can be harvested. Know that Jennifer likes flowers--Bluebonnets, bachelor buttons, and poppies will make their pasture look great. She said they were having the Bradford pears taken down and hauled away. They are a hazard in the high winds when they are that big. Could take out a section of roof and windows below. Hope my Bradford pear stays where it is without blowing up against the house in a storm. One thing about this one--it houses scissortail flycatchers, mockingbirds, and assorted wrens--all in the same tree. Have never seen that before. They may not have nests up there, but they certainly are using it as their favorite singing pew. Guess that is about like the choir at the Baptist church--the singers get there early.

Think there is a package down at the mailbox. Wish it were not such a hassle to go get the mail, but it is not a walking situation. The family across from the mailbox have a big German Shepherd that can--and does--jump the fence. She bit Jerry before the woman could get to her. He did not turn her in to the city, so the dog is still there. So, will drive down and get the mail in a bit. Lazy ol' woman does not like to drive some days.

Got tickled at my son today when we were talking about my "High" bed. He couldn't imagine why Jennifer would be concerned about me falling out or off of it--especially since he said she would be the one to take care of me! Yep, stinkin' kid! He was trying to be funny. But we both know that Jennifer is a take-charge person. And we both love her very much!

Really don't know much again. Some days are just like that--not much happening--or if it is, who would want to know?

Let's practice an attitude of gratitude. We are so blessed. Rest well, my friends. You are loved.