17th October, 2018 Wednesday
I am somewhere that is a very ancient city. The streets are so very very broad. I wonder what went on in them so very long ago. We have come home and some strangers have been in our home making it their own. There is a remote controlled curtain across the hallway to the bedrooms that spreads across to close and then opens in three parts. Husband and me, we sit to dinner with children and he gets up to find something out in the car. It is a pad in which he stored our licenses while we traveled. I notice that his has torn a little at the plastic edge and wonder if it still is viable. He wants a chip card reader to test it and one appears from somewhere. It reads the card but says its torn.
And that’s where the Kite Tale floated away.
Tea was green and the day opened with me being tasked with letting out the chickens. It was freezing so the temperature said. I dressed for being out before I let the puppies out. They all released to the front yard and I turned on the faucet for the chicken water. It was not frozen which it had been the morning before. I went inside and left the pups out front so I wouldn’t have to fight them for the gate and went down to the bottom floor and walked out to the big field and out the east side gate. I walked into the fowl territory and the geese went loud with their announcing their hunger and their thirst and most of all their desire for their oh so precious Flock of Five.
I opened up the door to the tractor and the parade waddled happily one by one past me, all feathered five of them. They are quite wonderful and the geese were making so much noise oh they wanted their pool dumped and refilled and their water bowl dumped and rinsed and most of all their feed. So I went over to the hose and picked it up and shook it for there on its nozzle nob was a nice fat goose poop. So while paying attention to the perfect goose poo and its swift flight off the nob to ground, I had not noticed Fierce Chicken had come to say hello. As I released the water stream from the hose’s nozzle, it damn near shot Fierce Chicken right in the tuckus. Needless to say, she did not take at all kindly to the rush of water as she rushed ahead of it and managed to stay dry. I turned off the stream and dropped the hose and walked after my Fierce Friend who walked the way only chickens can as fast as she could muster to the weeds of copse. She wanted nothing to do with my apologetic uttering. Oh well.
Meanwhile, Thanksgiving and Christmas were honking up a storm so I did empty their green plastic wading pool and filled it up again. Then dumped their dirty water bowl and rinsed it clean and filled it too. And then I filled the bucket of their feed and that was what they really needed.
Meanwhile the day broke gold and cold along the bottom field and its fringe of shimmering trees. Cloudless once again and the promise of the temperature arc from 32 to 70 in six short hours makes this about as close to a perfect California day. But this is Oregon.
Rain should be here now. Clouds should be the majority of sky. This string of crystal blue 40 degree swing luminescent pearl days are not the norm. My Volcano to the North has donned its brown bare patches once again having lost the film of white from the too few days of rain we had two weeks ago. That cap of white is what feeds the rivers in the spring and summer. We need the rain.
SFAM said that water is abounding down in Austin way in such a plethora of flow Lake Travis is to crest the dam which no one ever thought it would.
And that damn big Hurricane called Michael slamming into Florida. How can we say that climate change is fake news.
But back to Zoi, I had a reason to chat with Goddess Roamer who was doing laundry in South Dakota in that oh so sacred country. It gave me chills. We talked of when my sweet sweet Zoi is going in the Ring. In order to prepare her she suggested we take her to a dog show next weekend right around the corner. We will do it.
Ta.
Tea With Me 