Yesterday was a very warm and muggy morning.  I woke up at my normal time of around 4 a.m. Not that I have to, but I am very much a creature of habit.  Vacation time or not my clock doesn’t change much.  Coffee, check the weather on the puter, skim the news and look to see what y’all are doing on your blogs and bookface; generally that is the order of business.  Then out for a morning walk around the house, garden and barn with coffee in hand. Occasionally I’ll pack the camera for updates on garden progress and critter culture.

After church we hit a breakfast buffet to visit with some folk from our little congregation and catch up on what’s going on around their lives.  I love to be able to share a meal with my mom and these people.  They are a huge part of what makes our little corner of the world so special to us.

Having promised an older widower neighbor that I would cut a trio of dead oaks from her yard, I reluctantly grabbed my chainsaw and pulled the trailer down the hill.  It was already hot and getting hotter.  Not my idea of wood cutting weather.  I made as quick a work of it as I could dropping all three across each other so sizing up firewood lengths would be easier.  Dropping them together is like having saw bucks.  Start at one side and work my way across the pile, tossing the logs onto the trailer as I go.

I finished up pretty quick and cleaned up the yard so she doesn’t mess up her shiny John Deere mower.  She turns into a Nascar driver when she gets on that ride.

Hauled the load up to my wood pile and thanked God and my friend for use of his dump trailer.  I was wore slick!  Came in the house to cool off and rehydrate.  I swear I left twenty pounds of sweat in my socks, jeans and shirt. I was just about ready to hit the couch and watch me a baseball game when my lovely reminded me we still had 70 bales of hay left to pick up and put up in the barn.  Damn it!  Rain was in the forecast for early evening, so off we ran.

The two of us made short work of loading the trailer, but putting it up in the loft is my least favorite.  I just can’t swing a bale like I did in my teens and twenties.  I haven’t had too in a very long time.  After I tossed what I could we switched stations and I dropped a rope with a length of short chain and a carabiner in the center with a pair of S hooks on each end of the chain.  The rope ran through the carabiner with an overhand knot on the end to keep it all together.  Theresa hooked the baling twine with the S hooks and up the bales went.  We were both dripping with humidity and sweat. The last bale went in and ten minutes and a glass of ice water later the rains came.  And I mean they came!

We both stripped down to our drawers…hers can’t really be described as drawers; and showered right off the front porch.  Hell!  I hadn’t stood out in my skivvies in a rain storm since I was five.  It felt so good to let the raindrops peel the dust off of me and cool me down.

I love moments like these.



  1. Ed said,

    July 20, 2015 at 3:17 PM

    I can’t remember the last time I had a rain shower. I’m guessing my neighbors probably think that is a good thing.

    • Woody said,

      July 21, 2015 at 5:59 AM

      That’s the wonderful thing about neighbors at a distance.

  2. Ed said,

    July 21, 2015 at 7:49 AM

    Reminds me of back on the farm where our nearest neighbor is about a half mile through the fields. You can’t see the house but only during the winter and spring when the crops are not tall. Being a farmboy, we often answered the call of nature and often downwind which was most often towards the east and the neighbor a half mile away. One day I was visiting them and noticed that the lady of the house had a pair of high powered binoculars next to her sitting chair by the west facing windows. It got me to wondering. On a related note, she was also known to use a dented up bread pan and a rubber band to monitor the party line.

    • Woody said,

      July 27, 2015 at 3:11 PM

      I really can’t imagine my neighbors wanting to view what I have to offer.

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