Both the girls spent the night last Saturday with the 4 grandchildren (8, 5, 3, 2) and one rather large young pup Bruno, a doberman pincher. For a youngster, he is rather well behaved. Our old dog Max gets along well with other dogs and likes to play, but at 13 he has bad hips and while he can roam the yard and make an effort at chasing the cotton tails, he just isn't up to playing with a big pup, so Bruno spend some time in his crate, whining about it all the while.
Jen's Barbie Doll house was retrieved from storage. The little girls had fun cleaning it up and then it made its way to the basement. I went through a phase as a doll collector rescuing Barbies from Good Will so there is a tub full of old Barbies and all of the doll house accessories that they had fun playing with. Actually, I don't know who had more fun, mom or the girls.
Heather, a certified arborist, brought her chain saw to help dad trim up our broken Russian Olive tree that was badly damaged during our first winter storm. The trained professional gave her father strict instructions on how to handle the chain saw.
Safety classes, waders, and chain saw: a dangerous combo?
The trained professional, by the looks on her face, has some concern that dad isn't doing things the way that she recommends.
We were laughing. Who wears waders to climb a tree?
The broken branches were finally trimmed away. No accidents. It is doubtful that we will save the tree.
One foggy morning I took a picture of the grain elevator across the way. It is on the main highway at the corner of the highways 85 and 14. Virtually abandoned, the ailing building really is an eye sore, but on this morning obscured by the by the fog and with the sun shining through the fog reflecting on the old metal the elevator took on a more ethereal image. I took a dozen photos trying to get just the right image as the fog moved about, and finally cleared away.
Once brimming with agricultural business, the Farr elevator was the center of activity in our small town on the cross roads of a busy intersection, now it is home for too many pigeons and an occasional horned owl.
Finally, several days ago, I noticed that I had lost a follower. It took me several days to figure out who it was. I am sad. I will miss her. She lives in England, so her blog was full of beautiful photos that she took as she and her husband traveled about their home land. She always left the nicest comments. She had hinted at shutting down her blog, which I completely understand how the charm and excitement can wear off and how something that was once fun becomes tedious and burdensome. Blogging requires a lot of to work to cultivate a following and to keep the blog lively and interesting. I know with my own group of followers, several don't post much or at all and some have never commented, but I like my little group of friends who entertain, encourage, and inspire me. I hope that you all hang around for good while longer. I rather like your company. Have a good week.