New Life Old Farmers

These are barn cats.  They are supposed to live in the barn.  They prefer the house.  There is currently a very active skunk living under the barn, so now the barn cats really prefer the house and smell faintly like skunk.  I would normally say that we have too many cats living in the house (numbered at 1), but as The Damn Cat caught a mouse in the kitchen the other night while we were watching TV in the family room 6 feet away, she is currently not a bad cat.  However, we do not need any more cats in the house, especially ones that smell faintly of skunk.

The dogs have a room of their own.  The dog room opens to the pantry and the pantry opens to the kitchen.  The dog room lost their door flap when the Grand Dogs were visiting.  Replacing the door flap is on the list.  The barn cats have figured out that they can come into the house from the dog room, if they make a run for it while the dogs are eating their breakfast.  Yesterday morning My Loving Spouse was fetching the second round of coffee to find the kitchen full of barn cats with one stuck behind the refrigerator yowling.

Replacing the dog door flap is moving up on the list.

A hunting expedition is being planned for the skunk in the barn, want to come?

My oldest friend came for a quick visit.  We were born 2 days apart, next door to each other.  I, the youngest of 5, she the youngest of 6.  You could say we had some things in common!  How lucky was I to have a built-in playmate, best friend just next door.  We learned to roller-skate in her back yard as it was smooth cement.  We played kickball, baseball and all other sorts of games in the cul-de-sac we shared.  We spent most summer days in our pool, where some how once we could swim parents left us to ‘watch each other’…parents didn’t worry that we wouldn’t drown or drown each other…that might not have been a great idea, but still we did manage to survive.My mother sewed us matching dresses…..and I was devastated when at 12 they moved away.  We stayed in touch, but still it was not next door.

When she was visiting Portland this weekend, they swung by Ellensburg for a visit.  (You gotta love Californians…who are not afraid to drive!)  It was quick, but it was sweet…to see someone who so truly knows your history….the shenanigans one might have possibly gotten up to when one was a child.

The visit was much too short…but hopefully…my friend, my first friend…will be back…and I am blessed.

We have elk steaks in the freezer.  They are beautifully packaged.  It is after all hunting season and so a lot of people around here have fresh game in their freezer.  Except no one in our household has gone hunting.  My Loving Spouse has inquired of all his hunting friends,

“Did you leave elk steaks in our freezer?”

They all claim ‘no, nope, not me’….

As My Loving Spouse says,

“Only in Ellensburg, does someone break into your freezer and leave you meat.”

I work in an elementary school.  I have a lot of kids.  They are my kids and I know all of their names.

There are…

Isabella, Lilly, Abbi, Piper, and Henry.

Caidon, Caiden, Kaden, Cayden and Colt.

Aiden, Ayden, Aedon and Bertha.

Tabitha and Thomas.

Donnie, David and Diego.

Ashyln, Ashton, Alison and Abetzie.

There are an awful lot of kids whose names are Sweetie and Buddy.  Strange, but it is just how it works.  When they check out in the library I have their card, so I can call them by name.  When I see them around the school and around town there is the possibility, that I might not actually have learned their other name, the one their parents give them and so I use the one I give them…Sweetie and Buddy.

“Hi Miss Ellen!” comes with a wave and a smile…

which warms my heart and I return with a wave and a smile…

“Hi Buddy” or “Hi Sweetie”...there are a lot of kids with that name.

My schedule has changed.  Yesterday I was introducing myself to a class of kindergarteners.

‘Can you guess my name?  I will give you a hint?  What town do we live in?’

“Ellensburg!” they shouted.

‘Okay, well, my name is not Miss Berg.’

NOTHING but blank faces, until one little girl raised her hand.

“Cookie?”

See…they do know me!

THE Grandson has got some really amazing grandparents!  I am not talking about those that might possibly live on a farm.  I am talking about The Grands that read this blog and take my predicaments with great seriousness.

Pony Express to the rescue!  They found the creamer in Spokane, drove it to Seattle where they went for a football game and then swung by Ellensburg for the delivery!

We brewed up a pot of coffee and shared some pumpkin spice creamer.  Of course I gave them a pumpkin and we talked about THE Grandson.  We all agreed that he is smart, fun and delightful.  Oh, we love him so….

THE Grandson’s got some great Grandparents, which I appreciate on all kinds of levels!

I love living right where I am.

I may not miss much from my home of 50 plus years, but the few things I do miss, I miss intensely.  I will never stop missing them.  Those few folks, that helped you wrangle the wayward child at soccer games, church, and all those other outings, that shared in the fun and joy of little people’s life’s, that offered you a non-stop supply of Kleenex when your parents died and your marriage disintegrated, that could see that you were trying (as in struggling daily) to do your best in an unbest world.

Sometimes they come…and the hug that is given, gotten, received the nano-second they get out of the car on the driveway of our home is a balm to my soul…

One of the prettiest places to enjoy the fall is right here in Kittitas Valley.  The leaves are showing off their colors, the sky is blue, filled with clouds and the air feels like a gentle caress on your cheek.  It is the perfect time of year to enjoy an afternoon cup of coffee with pumpkin spice creamer.  Oh, yum!

Except…and this is a big EXCEPT, this is the second year where I cannot find any pumpkin spice creamer.  It is not like we do not have regular grocery stores here.  We have two major chains, one independent and one knock off store.  We frequent them all…we’ve found NO pumpkin spice creamer!  None, zilch, nada, nothing.  I’ve even broken down and asked the manager type looking guy at the stores.  The first manager was really well informed,

“Ah…we don’t have any?”

The second one was equally well informed with at least a better sense of humor.

“Really?”

‘Nope, none…does it take a special handshake to get some?  If so, I need to find out what it is.  I’ve lived here 3 years…isn’t that long enough to be let into the secret Pumpkin Spice Creamer Group?’

“Well, one would think so wouldn’t they.”

My Librarian and I discussed how you can buy anything on Amazon.com, so I attempted to find my creamer there.  I was actually amazed at how many pumpkin spice items are available this time of year.  I wouldn’t ever actually order any of these things, but I did quickly look to see if our store carried them.

Nope, not in Ellensburg, but I’d be willing to try them…after all…chocolate and pumpkin what could go wrong?

These actually looked sort of yucky to me, but then I do not need to try them, as they too are not available in Ellensburg.

Twinkies!  Twinkies even has pumpkin spice!  That just sounds gross, but I don’t have to worry as they are also not available in Ellensburg.

The really weirdest one of all…chapstick!!!I did in fact find the creamer I was looking for…yippee and yee-haw (country speak for cool’, which is Hippie speak for ‘great’)!  Great, excellent, my afternoon warmed up left over coffee delightfully accented with pumpkin spice creamer was just a click away, until I saw the price!  Are you kidding me?I’m afraid, I will remain…spice-less.

The pumpkin harvest is a neighborhood kind of thing.  After all, if I did not have people to share the pumpkins with, what would be the point?Our Friend the Farmer has 12 grandchildren big enough to help pull down calves for branding.  He also has one new little one.  So it has been a few years for him to enjoy the fun of having a baby around.  He organized a trip to the pumpkin patch for the Little Cattleman’s first pumpkin outing.The Little Cattleman promptly tasted a few pumpkin leaves and banged on a few pumpkins to test their bongo vibe.The Little Cattleman is 10 months old and surrounded by my mid-sized pumpkins to give you an idea of the pumpkins awesomeness this year.  I loved their visit to the pumpkin patch!  On the other end of the human size spectrum, I reminded Number Four Son to come by and pick up a pumpkin.I was thrilled that my Big Mama Pumpkin went home with Number Four.  I’ve told you before that he is strong, he went home and weighed that Mama…52 pounds!  Wowsers!

Pumpkin photo bomb by the Damn Cat…

I realized that I had no small pumpkins and needed/wanted a few for decorating inside.  Time for a swap with My Sweet Neighbor Sue…who stated that she didn’t want too big a pumpkin…  Off I went…Back I came…I love Fall.  I placed three pumpkins that the chickens had attacked out on our garden bench.  The pumpkins catch our eye through the many windows of the house.  …and it makes us smile.  The cobwebs in the window were added there by the hard-working spiders who live here and “NO, I cannot keep this place clean!”…

But…we are blessed!

If you live nearby and want a pumpkin, come on by!

Words do not always mean the same thing here in the country.  There is a long, rich history of men and women in the country, who have given of themselves in service to this country.  They are deeply respected, as they should be for their sacrifice.  My Loving Spouse keeps muttering about how he needs to service the tractor before the winter comes.  I honestly do not know what he plans to do to it, but I am pretty sure it will include stuff like oil and grease.  Believe it or not, but my cow Agnes also needed to be serviced.  This sort of ‘tune up’ involves a bull.  Luckily for me, Our Friend the Farmer had taken his bulls off the fields where his cows are and offered their ‘services‘ for Agnes.

Step one was getting Agnes loaded up.  Our Friend the Farmer can move 180 head of cattle with about 4 people.  You’d think we could move one cow and two calves with the same number.  Our plan was to run Agnes into the loading chute and then hold her there while we encouraged/ran/pushed/chased the two little calves in behind her.  Number One Son, Number One Wife and THE Grandson were here to help.  THE Grandson didn’t really help all that much, but in fairness to him, he’s only been walking for a little while now.  Agnes was pretty sure she did not want to go, where I wanted her to go, so if you are wondering how fast a cow can run, it is actually pretty fast.  I had the bike to move her with until it ran out of gas and My Loving Spouse and Number One Son were my cow ‘encouragers’, attempting to keep her going in the direction I wanted.  I wouldn’t exactly call it a three-ring circus, but it might have looked like three clowns attempting to outsmart one cow.  Eventually, we got her in and then mostly had to stand out of the way, as the little girls ran into the chute to be with their Mama.

With the herd loaded in the trailer, we drove a mile down the road to Our Friend the Farmer’s winter field for bulls.  In this field are 4 big, brawny, beautiful specimens of male cattle and one old horse (which is a different story).  In the nano second it took Agnes to exit the trailer, those bulls were perked up and strutting their stuff, attempting to sniff out the new babe in the field faster than any other bull.  A few bulls started sparring with each other, you’d think we had just dropped a Playboy model onto a deserted island full of drunken Frat boys.  Our Friend the Farmer says, sometimes the two strongest bulls start sparring and arguing with each other and while they are not looking the smarter bull moves in and services the cow.

We have been driving by and keeping an eye and Agnes and the girls.  All seems well in the winter field.  Sometimes when we go by, Agnes has been hanging out with this big old black bull…but recently we noticed that no one is paying any attention to her anymore.  We can only assume she got serviced and is no longer interesting or we might have missed her service window.  We’re not sure and no one is talking….I guess what goes on in the winter field stays in the winter field.