Becky greeted me at the door with a chore to do. The men are coming tomorrow to deliver the new cabinets for the kitchen remodel, and I needed to clear a path along the side of the house so that they’ll be able to fit the big boxes down the path and into the shed for storage until the contractors start next week.
So I moved a few armfuls of firewood, some bought and some scavenged from various pruning jobs, back to the compost area. Found a couple shovels underneath it all: so that’s where they went! And with each load, I took care not to disturb the beautiful girl who’d built her web just above where I was stacking cordwood.
Again, in the slight dark under the live oak and with a breeze ruffling the web, I had to use a shorter shutter speed than I would have liked. I will get the hang of this depth of field thing yet. Some day, I hope, my photos will be one tenth as good as Annie’s. If I’m lucky.
Tomorrow the oil gets changed in the truck. Thursday I have coffee with Roxanne, if luck breaks my way. Friday I head for the Mojave to look at the Hackberry fire complex. I’ll be back Monday, unless I’m not.
In the meantime, this blog will be left under the loving care of a frequent commenter. This guest blogger will be identified as soon as she decides for sure whether she’s going to be pseudonymous or not. Stephanie.
You know, because it’d be a shame if there wasn’t enough to read on the Internet while I’m away.
I may poke my head in if Matthew and I retreat from the triple-digit temperatures into a wi-fi cafe. It hit 124 degrees in Needles last week. Ahhhh. Sweet, sweet hyponatremia.
Tell me if coffee with Roxanne is as hot as I think it is. I love that woman.
Stay cool, Chris, and if you get a chance, please post the final numbers for the canine contest. Having voted for both Zeke and Cody, I’m confident that I supported the winner. Which is more than I can say for the last couple presidential elections.
By the way, my check, and Molly’s, will be in the mail to you tomorrow. I hope that everyone else who voted will follow through on their pledges, small or large — it’s for a hell of a good cause.
Numbers, Schmumbers. Right now it’s Cody in a landslide.
That’s a pretty spider. It looks like it’s fairly large, which must make it easier to get a good picture of. At Chateau Chaos, all of the big spiders vanished about 30 seconds after I got a camera with a macro lens, so I’ve been taking pictures of itty bitty spiders, and depth of field is just as ridiculous with the little spiders as it is with the large ones.
This spider was about a third of an inch in length, front feet to back feet.
What? Cody’s winning? I demand a recount!!
Cody stuffed the ballot box. Now, if my four or five or eight votes for Zeke had been counted properly…
Two things have become clear over the last couple weeks. Number don’t lie (unless you live in Florida or Ohio). And it never pays to talk shit on golden retrievers.
The truly impressive thing was that, despite giving up a huge home court advantage, Cody never even had to hit the speed dial button for the Golden Retriever Club of America.
None of this, of course, takes away from the fact that Zeke is a total stud, and far superior to your average canine.
By the way, Allison, Cody is looking for a house sitter at the end of August. He promises that if you’ll come to Montana and take care of him for a week, he’ll forgive your extra votes for Zeke.