sigh...

 

Oh goodness...

Dad is doing good, and his voice is coming back, which is turning into a double edged sword.

"Sis, (he calls me Sis, among other things) go get me a card, a big box of chocolates, and twelve daffodil bulbs for WWW, and make sure your drill is charged."

It seems I didn't hop to it fast enough... So he gets in his car, and roars off to get them himself. He returns with the goodies, but no bulbs.

I hear grinding in the workshop, in the house Dad comes with a big bit he has ground the shank off of so it will fit the chuck on my drill.  "Got an idea, this can make the holes for the bulbs!" he says.

"Dad, we've had a lot of rain, the ground shouldn't be that hard, but we can take it, just in case."

"Good, now go get me twelve daffodil bulbs." 

"Might I ask what you need the bulbs for, it's the wrong time of year to get daffy bulbs, though I should be able to find potted daffodils."

"We are going to plant them on WWW's  husband's grave up in the mountains."

And so another adventure with Dad & WWW began...

I found the potted daffodils. Loaded twelve pots of daffodils, a drill, a big bit, a spade, a trowel, a jug of water, gloves, Dad, his cowboy hat, and his walker up and headed out to pickup WWW.

On the way down I asked Dad if he knew where the little cemetery was. "No, but she does."  I managed to find it in spite of WWW's "Oh goodness, nothing looks the same" directions.

A nice little cemetery, tucked in the pines. As in most cases these days, we drove past a few nice places and a lot of really sketchy looking growers/cookers places.  

Unloaded WWW, Dad, both walkers, and all the rest of the plants and gear.  Got the Elders seated in their respective walkers, the better to give advice from, and went to work on cleaning up the grave site. I borrowed a rake from a gentleman carpenter's grave across the way. Being careful not to disturb his hard hat, claw hammer, nails, and six packs of beer. I planted the daffies with the spade, and returned the gentleman's rake. Heard a few gun shots while I was tending the grave. Dad told WWW not to worry, he hadn't heard any bullets whizzing by. I politely didn't mention that he can't hear worth a damn.  Loaded every thing back up, and drove the Elders down the mountain to town so they could have a late lunch date.

We passed a gas station they both knew the owner of, and WWW says she has never pumped her own gas and doesn't know how to change a tire. Dad laughs and thumps the back of my seat "Sis, can do that without batting an eye."  

"Oh goodness, well I'm an indoor person," says WWW. I smile and nod, not touching that one with a ten foot pole.

They wanted to eat Mexican food at a little restaurant, so that's where I took them.  Dad kept asking me the Spanish word for things, so he could holler them at the waiter, while WWW says, "Oh goodness, I just love a cowboy that can speak a foreign language." 

  

famously bitter...

a bit more on wormwood (Artemisia)... 

 "In Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, the first thing Snape asks Harry in Potions class is, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

According to the Victorian Language of Flowers, asphodel is a type of lily meaning "my regrets follow you to the grave," and wormwood symbolizes bitterness and sorrow.  The entire question has a hidden meaning of "I bitterly regret Lily's death.""

Ancient sage...

My introduction to Artemisia 'Powis Castle' was by way of a plant ID class in my landscape design curriculum way back when.  I like this tough, drought tolerant perennial.

When we where propagating in the greenhouses, I started a few cuttings just for the heck of it.  They did well, and I ended up packing those tough little mother plants around with me from ranch to ranch.

When they got big enough I would plant them out in the garden to use as a cover for tulips to grow up through.  Gophers don't like Artemisia.  Which is nice when you have previously watched expensive tulips suddenly disappear into the soil with a swoosh. The color/texture contrasts between tulips and the fine silvery leafed Artemisia 'Powis Castle' adds interest  to the landscape as well.

One of the ranches we lived on had lots of deer, and elk.  Overnight they could strip the garden. But, if I planted a scattering of Artemisia they would leave the garden alone.

Insects don't like it either, so I take clippings and throw them in boxes of clothes, books, and linens going into storage.  At one time we had a rental storage unit for six months while waiting for the house to be built. I put clippings of it in all the boxes, and had no problems with mice or bugs. 

I also put a clipping in each bag of sunflower seeds that I buy to feed the birds. No bugs in the bags or the feeders.

An ancient plant, with many attributes, often over looked today. 

It will be fine...

This week sorta got away from me, none of the chores got done til today. All the normal stuff was put on hold cause the rain let up for a day, the girls called, and we were gone to the range.

rant on: If you are going to have a big beautiful multi venue range (20 miles from much of anything) you should have first aid kits strategically placed around the facility. (I have a fairly complete FA kit in my range bag.)  I asked the gals about the ranges FA kits, as they are members. They said there might be one in the locked building, with a few band aides in it, haha. Not damn funny! rant off. 

Still have trouble with the Walther being super picky about what you feed it. I'm keeping a tally book, so I don't buy ammo it doesn't like. On the other hand, you could probably put rocks in the Sig and it would shoot. 
Gal Hint: If you don't normally paint your fingernails, and you paint them bright red before going to shoot, don't, it's damn distracting.

Next day was a 5K training day. There were things to do for Dad and it was pouring rain so that precluded my running in the AM. No worries I thought, I will go watch them sift the geldings at the Red Bluff Bull & Gelding Sale indoor arena and train in the evening. Picked up a friend and she and I slogged through a fair amount of rain, mud and horse manure to get to the bleachers.  All the usual characters were present. It was almost as much fun to listen in on the talk around us as watch the horses.

 Met a nice older ranching couple from Oregon, that were seated in front of us. She and I swapped ranch horse stories when there was a break in the action. The specific horse we had come to watch was far back in the query, so three and a half hours later we watched it work, and we are out of there. I had not moved from that cold metal bleacher in all that time.  I know better then to set in one position that long, I also know that actions have consequences, or in this case inaction. Got up, grabbed the hand rail, walked down the bleachers, turned the corner, took one step down the stairs and went flying. It must have been something to see!  I made a darn near perfect four point landing on the concrete below with palms and knees. Got up, dusted myself off, thanked the gentlemen that asked me if I was OK.  Proud that I didn't even cuss, and we left the building.  My friend kept saying are you alright, there's blood on your wranglers. Well yes, that's because most of the skin on my knees is missing. 
It will be fine, and it will be, but now I'm off a day in training. Speed walked and jogged in the mist this morning, cause the knees are a tad sore. It will be fine...