THE DUST WILL WAIT

Our grandson was born at 1:59 pm today. Big feet, big toes, big fingers. 8 pounds 10 ounces. Update : Photo Buttercup and Baby Brother

This is last year's post for Memorial Day. I just wanted to revisit it. (Fun Monday is below this We drove through the foothills today into the Blue Mountains . The gusting wind rolled like waves through the lush wheat fields and crested in the sun light. As the mountain road changes from paved to gravel it ascends into switchbacks that slice through rock-filled ravines and open meadows. The blustery air followed us up the crooked path. The tamaracks and pine trees whispered and moaned. The aromatic scents of wildflowers mixed with pollen and dust to tickle our noses. Our original goal for this afternoon jaunt was to utilize our permit to harvest rocks that have rolled into the roadway. The landscape around our pond and the waterfall feature has yet to be completed. One of those ‘always in progress’ tasks. However, my attention kept drifting from rock viewing to the symphony of sounds and smells. The blessings of living in a beautiful place and sharing it wi...

RDH Mom, as todays host, says : Vacations...this is the time of year when most of us go on vacations. Show us and/or tell us about your favorite vacation - where you went, what you did, etc. Pictures would be great. Let's all take a trip aro und a the world via our FM friends!! One of my favorite weekends - EVER - found us with all three of our girls and their families at the Oregon Coast. This is where we stayed - an Inn built on the cliffs with an elevator to the beach. (Click on the photo, which is from their website, to get more information - or make reservations!) Below is the view from our deck. This photograph reminds me how the breeze teased our lovely daughters hair and tickled our noses with the aromatic scents of the beach. The grandkids couldn't wait to ride the elevators down and get their shovels in the sand. Cooking was not our responsibility -- so we got to enjoy each other without worrying about who was on the clean up crew. I had a broken leg. Buttercup ...

Sometimes I forget when people tag me with MeMes. Sometimes I forget to put the half-n-half back in the fridge before I leave for work. Eventually I spit out both. Like today. (Yes, it was sour.) Back in time Burnett's Urban Etiquette tagged me to write my memoirs in six words or les s . I've waited so long to respond that James has moved away... to a blog that is a more "formal" part of the newspaper. He writes for The Miami Herald. (He's a great writer, too!) So -- my life story in six words. "I think I can do it." Not really. That was my response when he handed me this assignment. Here is the real one: "I want to do it over." Everything. This stems from a lifelong dissatisfaction with all my first attempts. Possibly originating with my order of birth. As the youngest of eight, I always knew someone older and wiser would respond to my pleas for help or advice. My older siblings came along and cleaned up my messes or took ...

Canon Rebel XTI Wordless Wednesday Universal Headquarters right H ER E

Mariposa is todays Fun Monday hostess with the mostest (collections.) Visit her HERE . Canon Rebel May 18, 2008 What I would LIKE to collect.

Squeaky noises emitted from the huge maple trees that shade our back yard. I knew early last week that it was the same sounds heard three years ago when two screech owls raised their tiny duo in the tree tops. One parent appeared at dusk in recent weeks. My neighbor, Myrna, joined me on Friday night to watch the small owl glide between the branches, calling in muted tooo - tooo - tooo -toots. We saw a dead rodent dangle from its beak, and heard the delighted response of a little one as it received an evening meal. Saturday afternoon the distressed cries of the baby drew me to the fence. It may have fallen from the protection of its nest. (I put up an owl box last year - but it was claimed early on by the rascally starlings.) There it was - the baby--at the base of the 100 plus year old maple tree. I ran for my camera and hoped that there were no cats, crows, or magpies also attracted by its distress. When I returned, the fledgling was climbing the tree. I appointed myself ph...