With apologies to those of you who are suffering from the excesses of weather throughout the rest of the world, it is a fairly sunny morning in Northern California, with an almost-warm breeze wafting through the soft air. It's not an ideal day to view the Sierra Nevada mountains, I had to outline the tops of them in blue to separate them from the hazy sky in this picture, but I wanted to show you the view of the mountains from my window. With the horse shed smack in the way.
I also love the view of the oaks along the riparian area, and the plowed fields. That solid green area just below the bare dirt is the neighbors crop. Lawn. (Let them eat lawn!) I don't love the view of that.
It's a lovely day, I want to be out in it, planting flowers, playing with the fuzzbutt chickens, watching the pigeons. But I'm being good. I'm just sitting here with my foot on the counter, looking wistfully out the window instead.
This experience is giving me a glimpse of what happens after you die. Life just goes on without you. The weeds and the animals don't care if I'm here or not, they just toodle along and do what they need to do. It's hard to accept, when you're the sort of person who thinks that nothing can happen unless you are personally responsible for assuring that it does. Very humbling. I might even learn something from this. I've already learned that if you sit around in frustration, chewing the inside of your cheeks, it makes your facial wrinkles look worse. OK, so that's not very deep. I've been reading other people's brilliant philosophical thoughts to make up for my own lack of them, though. Cut me some slack.
My brother and sister-in-law are in Corvallis, checking to make sure their granddaughter is being raised properly. Or maybe they just went to see this sunny smile.
I'm proud to report that even though her Polish genes are somewhat watered down, Miss Tessa is carrying on for the Blawat family. Is this not true Polish fashion sense?
When my brother and I were young and lived in the mountains for a while, our neighbor dressed just like this. I think she was Ukrainian, though, and she wore a paper bag over her knitted cap. Jerry, do you remember Amelia? She used to sit out in the late spring and shoot the birds out of her cherry tree. She always wore a dress over her jeans in the winter.
3 comments:
Great pic, and yes, very Polish (LOL).
By the way, I am glad January has come and gone as well!
--CS
You're right, that shed has to go - or be moved somewhere. Bob! Bob! Where's momma's dynamite - you gotta blow that s.o.b. to Sacramento! As for the cute little girl, I am sure I can find more fashionable kiddy clothes down at our local charity shop. Shall I send a bundle? Poor little thing. Imagine her checking that picture out when she is older!
Tessa will be such a cutie, it won't matter what she wears. Also, she's the only baby in a family that adores her, so there's no way she'll have an inferiority complex. I do have to chuckle, though, because her momma was telling us at Thanksgiving that she has no cute pictures of herself as a child because her parents dressed her like a boy.
We're very practical in our family. I bought a coat for Bob for about 45 cents at the Gerber Dump when he was 4. It was big and he wore it for several years. It was bright yellow, so I could always see him when he was out in the fields. And I never told him it was a girl's coat.
Momma's dynamite was hauled off about 20 years ago when she said to Bob's dad, "If you don't move that stinking yellow truck out of the driveway (where it sat for 4 years) I'm going to get some dynamite and blow it to h---!" The horse shed has a function, though, I don't want to eliminate it, just move it. It's my fault it got put in the wrong spot.
One of my dear old friends is in her 80s now. She has been married maybe 5 times that I know of. Husband 4 was trying to get rid of a tree trunk in their yard (on a ranch) by blasting it out with dynamite. He didn't want pieces of the trunk to break a window, so he parked his old truck over the top of it. I love that story. I mean, if you'd already been married 3 times, surely you'd be wise enough to pick someone who wasn't so stupid.
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