Book'n it...

What are you reading this summer? 

So far I've read: The Epic of Gilgamesh by Kovacs (thanks to Cheri for pointing me to that version), Rimworld, The Sympathizer, Just Mercy, War in Val D'Orcia, Brings the Lightning, and Absolution.  I'm presently reading:  the latest Sunset Western Garden Book, The Art of the Biscuit, Joe Pickett: Off the Grid, Stick & Rudder (1944), the weed eater manual, and In Delorean's Shadow.

What is your favorite genre? 

I like a variety of sorts, which changes with the wind, the tide, and the season...  History, Classics, Bios, Anthologies, DIY, etc.

Do you listen to books, or read them?

  

I comprehend more if I read, probably because I have the attention span of a nat, and multi tasking is not part of my skill set. 

Do you consider yourself well read?

By whose standards is this decided... But, no I don't.

  

Fish'n & Fry'n...

Monday morning, loaded up Dad and headed to Lake Shasta to spend the day on the Oregon brother & sis-in-law's houseboat. Another BIL & SIL where staying with them, so plenty of help with Dad.

The BILs met us at the marina and away we went to a beautiful cove they had tied up the houseboat in.  

It has been awhile since I've been on the lake when it was this high. There weren't many other boats in the area, and the water was perfect. 

While the guys got the poles rigged, I slathered Dad in sunscreen and had him cinch down his lucky fish'n hat. I really need to find a new feather for his hat, cause the mangy look'n goose feather it has does not befit a fisherman of Dad's caliber.

Away they went to fish the day away. All my BIL's are super about taking Dad fishing, they like having him along. He has stories.

two of my six SILs

While the guys where fishing, my SILs and I put together the makings for an early dinner, filled our wine glasses, blew up the floats, and hit the water. None of us are as young as we used to be... I got catywampus on the boat ladder, and had to swim for my float, didn't spill a drop of wine.  Getting on the float in open water, holding a glass of wine was a tiny bit dicey, berserker skills were called into play.  No wine was lost, and we spent most of the day floating around the wine cooler, laughing and telling stories about, well never mind...
 I got a tad sunburned, but I'm old enough to know better, so no excuses.

The guys came in for dinner. Dad was a little tired, but in good spirits as he had caught fish! 

After a great dinner of BBQ'd tri-tip, salad, tomatoes,  & sweet corn, and a few tall tales, we hugged goodbyes. The guys took us back to the marina, helped me load up Dad, and we were on our way home.

It was a perfect day on the water, with family. 

Today, I'm taking Dad to Sunday breakfast at the airport cafe so we can eat pancakes and drool over planes.

A goal...

metal sculptures in a pasture,  Sisters, OR

I got to test out one of the fixits today, I finished installing six new Bull Ring tie downs on Hank, the pickup.

Do you think there might be something anal about a berserker that notices that the screw head slots are not in perfect alignment. Tested the bull rings out with a huge load of brush to the landfill. The guy with a very pricey dump trailer next to me, looked a little startled when I flipped the netting off the top of Hank's load, let down the tailgate, got back in Hank, popped the clutch, and unloaded in one fell swoop.   I wish you could have seen his face! Obviously not raised in the country.

 

Dad has WWW (wealth wider woman) visiting for the weekend.  She has great stories to tell of flying with her late husband. Stories of throwing a knife at a map, and wherever it stuck is where they would fly to. It's too bad she remembers a few of my inglorious daring do's from high school.
 

 A little time in a meadow, in the mountains, just a tent, a horse, a trout stream, and no one else's schedule would sure be nice.

 A goal...

One done...

There are days when you have to do the fixits. You can make them chores, or you can make them done.

reversed cabinet door

Dad and I had no sooner walked in the door from the Simple loop and the ice maker in the one year old frig quit. 
 

frig brain

 Read the manual, twice, pushed all the places on the touch pad, no ice. Called the service center: push the little tiny button inside the ice maker, wait 24 hours, and it will reset it's self. Waiting 24 hours for ice for Dad's ice tea when it's 110 out is no simple matter. Done. No ice.  Touched the touch pad on the front. Waited an hour and wallah, ice.

One done.

We have a two car garage. Hank has the big side cause he's big and has the kayaks for company, Rav has the smaller side. I pushed the button to open the side Rav is parked in. Clunk, clank, spit, and it stops a few feet up. A screw holding the armature from the top rail to the door had worked it's way out. Dad said it was an easy fix, get the ladder and he would do it.  Don't think so, his is strictly a supervisory position.

I flipped the switch to manual, pulled the door back down, and measured for bolt size while the supervisor was going through his vast collection of antique bolts, washers, and nuts.  Not finding the one needed, I headed off to HD. Found what I wanted, and came home to find the supervisor engrossed in a Giants game. Taking the initiative in my unsupervised hands, I drilled through the door, put the bolt with washers in and snubbed it down with the nut. Looked at it and thought, just how much damage can that armature do if it falls onto the Rav's sunroof. No Fear, flipped the switch back to auto, and pushed the damn opener button. And wallah, open and close.

One done.

Happy Independence Day, July 4th

Have a safe and Happy 4th of July. 

Remember those brave men who made it possible...

 

 Independence Day

 

 

h/t WD

 

 

 

Stopp'n by...

On the way North to the family reunion and the Simple loop, I asked Dad if he minded if I stopped by to have a few moments with the Cowman & Maxwell, the wonder cowdog.

"Do what you gotta do, sis," was Dad's reply.

The view is every bit as beautiful as the day we scattered their ashes.

When we got there, Dad told me to go on without him, he would stay in the car. "Take as long as you need," was his only admonition.

 With just a gentle breeze through the pines, the scent of cedar heavy in the air, and clear spring water around me, I could talk to the Cowman. It was hard to start, I needed to speak out loud, to hear the words echo across the river and over the meadow. Sure I silently talk to him every so often, but that is not in this place, here where his spirit resides. 

I'm not much of a crier, I shed no tears the day we scattered his ashes, probably because I was so angry with him for not fighting harder to live. This day I did, not with anger or sadness mind, but with the prayer that he is at peace.

 

It's a special place, a place to renew the soul, a place to look back, and a place to go forward from.