Cabin Crafted

Category: family

  • Celebrations

    The U.S. Independence Day would have been my Mom’s 97th birthday. It was also the adopted birthday of the Patriarch of the Greek extended family that shared our rural neighborhood as I grew up. It was always celebrated with a pool party at the home of one of his sons with a spitted lamb, burgers, hotdogs, sides of every description all provided by neighbors, swimming, chasing, eating, and in the end of the night, a 21 gun salute over the woods to end the day. She has been gone 33 years, Pappous for many more than that and the son that had the pool, passed away shortly after the last one of those parties I remember at too young an age.

    When our children were small and we lived on the coast of Virginia, we went to one of several different events over the years. Harborfest was one, a street festival with food vendors, music, tall ships, culminating with the symphonie or one of the Military bands playing, ending their show with the 1812 Overture that started the fireworks over the river. We watched them from city parks, the oceanfront once in awhile, but always crowds and so much traffic.

    Once here, we often would go to the town park in Blacksburg and watch them there, still crowds, but not as much, some food vendors, and usually a 5 or more block walk to get from parking on a neighborhood street of the nearest large parking lot to see them.

    On Friday, I messaged daughter and asked if she had plans for the 4th and she said she wasn’t sure yet. I asked when Christiansburg’s fireworks were as the rest of their activities were yesterday on the 3rd. Many of the towns up here had their celebrations on the 2nd, 3rd, or planned for the 5th since today is Sunday. Christiansburg’s fireworks were on the 3rd. She and I put together a quick get together with some of her friends, us, and Grandson 1 in her back yard with a cookout, cornhole, and a front row unobstructed view of the town’s firework show from her front lawn, followed by a box of backyard fountain type fireworks for the 16 year old to enjoy (I think at least a couple of the older than 16 year olds might have had as much fun as he did). It was a surprisingly chilly evening for July and the firepit was lit, S’mores made over the fire by those who wanted them and the warmth enjoyed by the rest of us. It was a very nice, enjoyable evening.

    Before it got dark, she tried to take a selfie with the young one and he wouldn’t cooperate. I had her walk up behind him and caught a picture for her. She is not short, he is tall, but the perspective made it look even more extreme.

    He will be returning home on Tuesday morning to attend a residential gaming/coding camp. We will miss having him here. He has been very helpful with chores, we have had some play time, too. Yesterday before going to daughter’s, we took our two bikes, rented one of the e-bikes in town and went for an hour ride on the Huckleberry Trail. My knees didn’t take kindly to it, but there was no residual pain once we were done. He has taken walks with us, played basketball, gone to the pool, and whooped his granddad repeatedly in Ping Pong. We look forward to his return near the end of the month for a bit more time here to go to basketball camp and a bit more play and work time with us. So we have had work days, play days, and quality time with a grandson. We are so grateful that he is allowed to come stay with us for extended periods in the summer, knowing that this could possibly be the last one makes it bittersweet. He is of an age where he wants to be with his friends, wants to get a parttime job, and coming here to hang out becoming less of a draw. We are grateful the years he has come.

  • They came, they went

    And now Grandson 1 and I are sifting fist sized rocks from the dirt pile created by clearing out the top of the tank, refilling the parts that don’t have to be accessed again using that same soil, moving the rocks behind the larger stones of the rock wall. When we are done, the oval left over the observation port and the clean out top will be filled with bagged soil that has no rock or gravel in it and marked with an edging of some sort. Annual flowers or a couple of half barrels of flowers that can be moved will be placed there to mark the spot and so digging next time will be an easier task. Because of the slope of our property, the high side is 2-2.5 feet and the low side about 15- 18″.

    The leaky galvanized tub is protecting the lid so we don’t dump rock and subsoil on it. The plywood is providing a baffle to build a firm soil wall behind it. Grandson 1 worked hard without complaint as we worked for about an hour. There is more to do, but it was time to prepare dinner, blanch and prepare peas for the freezer, and get the table set.

    The peas planted in the corner of the onion bed did not do well. Actually, most of the veggies I planted in bagged soil used to fill some of the new beds aren’t doing very well. I pulled those pea plants today and tucked in the edge of the onions, and behind the peas, I found a ground nest with two eggs and two baby birds. I quietly left the area so Mom bird could return. I will steer clear of them for a couple of weeks and hope that a raccoon, skunk, or neighbor cat doesn’t get into the garden and find them.

    The other bed of peas produced a basket full, along with the last spears of asparagus that will be harvested this year, and the hens provided some protein. The pullet that layed her first egg yesterday, layed a perfect little blue egg today.

    With the scaffolding down on the east side of the garage, you can finally see some of the Day lilies in bloom.

    Two different cultivars of red, one with much larger blooms, both with yellow throats.

    The yellow Stellas have taken a beating from the placement of the scaffolding and for some reason the chickens prefer to dig there. They will recover next year if I protect them for the rest of this season. The very tall yellow one is among the last to bloom and the ones under the scaffolding on the south side of the garage haven’t opened yet.

    This never got posted last night, so today Grandson 1 and I will try to finish the work around the septic tank. Yesterday and today are cool enough that the work isn’t too onerous. The rest of the scaffolding comes down today and is going out to help some friends with a job they have.

    After our dinner last night, the three of us drove to town and took a cool late evening walk on the Huckleberry and the Stadium Woods trail back to the car. We arrived back at the car at exactly the minute the weather app said the sun set.

    We love having our grandkids visit and this guy is a great helper, willing to do just about anything I need him to do as long as I still give him time to plant his face in his phone.

  • Olio- 6/22/2021

    Olio: a miscellaneous collection of things

    Son 1 and Grandson 1 arrived on the weekend for some work and some play. Son 1 and I did some staining, trying to get parts of the log house stained that didn’t get done year before last and that the pandemic prevented from getting done last year. We also needed to have our septic tank pumped and hubby and I were unable to dig down through our rocky soil to get to the tank top, so a couple weeks ago when Son 1 was also here working, we used the site map to try to locate it, used a metal detector to confirm the location based on a length of buried rebar, and attempted to hire someone to come dig it out.

    Now mind you, we live near a University town and there are Help needed signs posted everywhere. There aren’t many students here in the summer and I guess the ones that are either are struggling to stay in school or trying to get ahead and don’t want jobs. I posted a paid gig on Craigslist and one guy said he would come out, but wanted $25 more than we offered. We agreed, he showed up almost at dark, dug for 5 minutes with our tools, said he would be back the next morning at 8 a.m. with a helper and “more equipment” and we never saw him again. The second inquiry also was a no show. Son 1 upon his afternoon arrival went to work and the tank top lid and observation port were uncovered, working together, we freed the lid yesterday afternoon, and the pumping crew came and did their stinky job this morning. Grandson 1 and I will pick rocks from the soil pile and refill the hole and we are going to put in a small flower bed of annuals on topsoil right over the lid and port so it will be easy to find and easier to dig in a couple years when we have to have a repeat pumping session. The lid is about 28″ down. Son 1 us a gem to leave his home, his own tasks, and come on his weekends, away from his job to help us get these tasks done. It is a shame that we can’t get people locally to come out for pay to do them.

    Grandson 1 will stay with us for a couple weeks to help me with some other tasks, but Son 1 headed home this morning.

    For fun, after we worked on Sunday with staining, we cleaned up and with Daughter, took a couple hour kayak trip on the New River.

    After we were back at Daughter’s house with the kayaks and they were rehung, Son 1 and I went out and bought all the fixings for a fantastic Father’s Day meal for hubby and Son 1 that we prepared and ate at Daughter’s house.

    Grandson 1 on his first afternoon here used the riding mower to finish mowing our lawn that I had barely begun the day before and yesterday, mowed Daughter’s lawn with her AWD lawnmower, a necessity as her lawn has a steep hill in the front and a serious though not too steep slope in the back.

    Last night at egg collection time, I found the first pullet egg from the littles. It was from an Easter egger and will be blue when she figures it all out.

    Her first attempt is kind of green, blue, and gray speckled, but it had a nice hard shell and it did have a yolk. A couple more of the pullets look like they are about ready too, but most look like they may still need a few more weeks.

    I had gotten frustrated with Ms. Houdini’s escape and attempts to get under or on the porch and caught her, putting her in the enclosed run with the pullets. That lasted only 24 hours until she managed to escape from there too and spent the day yesterday again trying to get on or under the porch, then all of the free rangers got into the walled garden yesterday afternoon and started digging up my flowers. They were treated with a hose spraying to send them into and over the mesh fence to get out and away from the jet of water. It is raining today, but when it ends, I will have to repair their damage to the bed and restring the mesh. I really like for them to wander the grounds eating bugs and ticks, but hate for them to get into the gardens and wreck havoc, and also when they are unrestricted free ranging, they hide their eggs and I may or may not find them. Yesterday there was only 1 from them, 1 hen and 1 pullet from the coop and penned ones. Maybe I need to use electric fence around the orchard and both coops and have controlled free range time. Soon the two roosters and the old hens will find their way to freezer camp. They are farm birds after all, not pets.

  • Whew, I needed today

    We were very fortunate to have Son 1 and Grandson 1 come to visit us this past weekend, but mostly to work at outside house maintenance that hubby and I just can’t do anymore. They powerwashed about half the house, caulked, attacked carpenter bee damage, and started re staining the logs. They worked far harder than I possibly could while I gardened some, stayed nearby to be a helper with scaffolding or ladder moving, gofer of items needed while they were up high, and to keep them fed and hydrated. It was hot! I had to wear long sleeves, long pants, and a big floppy hat whenever I was outside with them because I had 11 more pre cancerous lesions cryosurgeried off last week and they weren’t healed enough to slather on sunscreen over them. By the end of the first day, in spite of the heat, Son 1 was shivering as he was up close and personal with the power washing spray on the upper dormers and the water was coming from our well, so it was cold.

    On Sunday, Daughter and her two kiddos came over to have homemade pizza with us and have a brief visit with her older brother while he took a break to eat.

    After a final dinner last evening, once the weekend’s work was done, they headed back home for Grandson’s school week. There will be other weekends to finish what can be done on the ground and at least one with a cherry picker so the upper areas can be stained.

    We were able to enjoy a large salad with lettuce from our garden last night, fresh garlic scapes from a friend on the pizza and tonight in stir fry as mine aren’t as far along as her’s were. The various gardens are producing flowers as well. There are lots of volunteer sunflowers coming up in beds, thanks to the birds. The bearded and Dutch Iris are glorious this year. One of my peonies actually bloomed this year. They are more than a decade old, but I don’t think they like their location. I love the flowers that look like a cross between a rose and a carnation.

    Year before last for our February anniversary, hubby gave me a tiny rose bush in a thimble sized pot tucked into a little lady bug planter. When it finished blooming, I moved it to a larger pot and when the walled garden was completed last summer, the rose was planted in it. The deer found it to my dismay, so I put an upside down tomato cage over it to deter them and the rose has thrived. If purchased now, it would take at least a one gallon pot, though it is a miniature type rose and it is full of blooms and buds for more. When I was in younger, I used to keep a bowl with a bloom in it when I could, a camillia, a rose, a magnolia, whatever was available. This morning, I plucked 5 of the tiny roses and floated them in a small pottery bowl to help brighten the house.

    Last week’s appointments and the weekend’s work slowed my spinning considerably, but I got a new Carob wood spindle in the mail and started on the last quarter of the month’s fiber for the May “I love this color” challenge. I selected Shades of Turquoise in Falkland wool to spin, a total of 4 ounces. I hope I am able to finish it in the next 7 days, but there is no requirement that I must. I don’t know what I will knit from it, but have a couple of shawl patterns in mind.

    Though the temperature today was similar to the weekend, it has been overcast and since I wasn’t in and out all day, I was back to my above the knee skirt and short sleeves. I did put on sunscreen to take our walk and wore my big deep floppy brimmed hat that hubby says reminds him of “Dumb Donald’s” hat in Fat Albert comics. He says I should put eye holes in it. It isn’t really that bad, but it does protect my face and shoulders.

  • Farm Progress

    A couple of days ago, our neighbor to the east had a part of his herd escape into our tall hayfields. I heard mooing and bellowing and looked out to find a black bull in our west side yard. Going out on the porch, then the back deck, it became apparent that he wasn’t alone. He had brought his harem of 7 or 8 cows and about that many calves that you could barely see in the hay, just see the hay moving as they followed the others. Neighbor was on his tractor in the field to the east, planting corn. I messaged him of his escapees and they eventually wandered back toward home and he could see them. I guess his corn planting was interrupted by some fence maintenance. Soon the hay will come down and the fields will be shorn and available for wandering and looking for berries.

    The new asparagus raised bed arrived early. I had hauled the bags of raised bed soil across the garden and stacked them near where the bed was to be assembled and to await it arrival. Not expecting it until today or tomorrow, I was surpised to find it waiting on the front porch. After dinner last night, the box it came in and two other boxes were spread over a freshly weeded area where I had dug out the comfrey last weekend. A few more sprouts of comfrey had already come up. The raised bed was assembled, a layer of soil placed over the cardboard, the dozen crowns spaced in the bed and covered with more soil and a layer of straw. Part of a bag of the wood chip mulch was then spread around the outside over the cardboard and between the beds.

    As the crowns emerge, more soil will be added on top until the foot deep bed is full to the top. As soon as the old bed stops producing decent spears, it will be dug up, more cardboard put down, the half barrels for more berries placed where it was, but the berries will have to wait until next spring, I think. I can no longer find them for sale except online.

    I’m waiting for the garlic to finish off so it can be pulled and the box build without the upper end can be finished. The lower end of that box was planted with Tomatillos, ground cherries, cucumbers, and cilantro. The first three will have to be trellised as they grow. I still haven’t planted any sunflowers, just the volunteers that have come up in various flower beds thanks to the birds. I think the edge above the existing asparagus and garlic will have a row of them as soon as I get the grass from under the fence.

    The apprentice was the only hen to escape yesterday and it took her quite a while, I think she went under the fence this time, so lengths of firewood were placed along the lower edge where the fence had a bit of space under it to help hold it down. We will see if she finds another way out. She seems determined to not lay her eggs in the coop, but though I hear her egg song and come running, I can not find her stash.

    As the pullets continue to grow and look more like small hens, their markings are true. The older oliver eggers are black with gold feathers intersperced at their necks, with green legs and feet. The young oliver eggers are less attractive to me.

    This one is the least attractive one, and I wouldn’t know she was an Olive egger except for her green legs and feet.

    The pullet with her back to the camera at the top of the shot is the other one. She looks more like a Welsummer except she has green legs and feet. The Marans look more like the older Olive eggers, but they have black legs and feet, they are really pretty birds. The Buff Orpingtons vary in shade from pale to butterscotch, the two NH Reds don’t look like the adult ones I have (one of them is above the Buff on the left edge of the photo. The variety of Easter eggers are all attractive but each one is marked differently. I have never had a flock that were so distinctive that I could tell them apart, except for the Marans unless they are together and two are smaller. We should start seeing pullet eggs in about a month. Some of them are already developing real combs that are reddening.

    Today, more prep for the weekend with Son 1 and Grandson 1 here to get some exterior house maintenance done. First up is to go get the basement dusted and vacuumed and the beds made with fresh sheets.

    Off to work.

  • A Most Wonderful Day

    Midweek, Son 1 asked if we had Mother’s Day plans which we did not. He suggested a halfway meet up for a picnic with Grandson 1 and DIL. I asked if Daughter and her two kiddos should be included and got a resounding, “YES!” back, so she was asked. We divvied up the picnic goodies, and in a “I don’t ever want to own one of these” rental SUV, headed 2 hours East, they headed 2 hours Southeast and we met up at a picnic ground on the Blue Ridge Parkway north end. It was wonderful to have two of my children, 3 of my grandchildren, and 1 of my DIL’s there to share an afternoon of food and social visitation. We had a slight adventure getting there because I used Google Maps to take the “shortcut” through Stuart’s Draft to get on the parkway and it led us up a narrow gravel road for about 3 miles before intersecting with the parkway. Daughter said it was reminiscent of childhood auto adventures, her daughter thought is was kind of cool out in the middle of nowhere woods, but the teenager wasn’t so sure about it. The woods at the picnic ground were full of Mayapples in bloom. Ours are up but not blooming yet. There are one of my favorites in the mountain woods.

    Before we headed out, Daughter presented me with a gift bag and card. The card was adorable and it is funny that her son picked the same card for her. The gift bag had two much needed new kitchen towels. In spite of the photo, they really are the same color and match my tea kettle.

    DIL is an multi-talented artist and she presented Daughter and me with hand thrown planter pots with saucers. That was perfect too as I love the one she gave me for Christmas and was looking for another pot for a bathroom plant.

    Son had on a hat that I was admiring and he said, “it is your yarn, but you didn’t make it” and followed with an explanation that one of his co-workers had made it for him. A further explanation was that through another co-worker, she had discovered my blog and has twice purchased some of my handspun yarn which she in turn made part of into a hat for Son. I thought that was such a neat crossing of paths. She and son knew the connection, but I didn’t until today.

    Before we all said goodbye today, the tallest scrunched down after arranging us and took a group selfie. Back left is Grandson 1, Hubby, Grandson 3, me, DIL, Daughter, Granddaughter 2, and Son 1 wearing “the hat.”

    What a great day. Now I want to see Son 2 and his family too.

    Happy Mother’s Day!

  • We Survived

    The two cold days and frigid nights are in our past. Hopefully, the last of the season, but it is still 5 weeks to last frost date. The covered young plants all survived, though I need to made the fence tunnels for the two 4 foot square beds so I can drape plastic over them to make a mini hoop houses. The plastic shower curtain liners wouldn’t stay taut enough to not droop down on top of some of the seedlings. Yesterday I pulled them back tight and this morning they were droopy again.

    The chicks in the garage did fine, though they are so very crowded in the big water trough. I do want to power wash the inside of the coop before I put fresh straw in it to move them. Three are still smaller than the others, but all have feathers and I think they will be fine with the warmer nights upcoming.

    Saturdays are Farmer’s Market days and this was the first week the opening changed from 10 a.m. to 8 a.m. and I didn’t want to be there that early, so I feared it would be mobbed. It was so cold, it was mostly vendors out there, bundled up and standing out in the sun in front of or behind their stalls. The weeks goodies were purchased and we went down to Tractor Supply to get chick feed and some poultry fence so I could build a temporary pen for the big hens. They have been cooped in the Palace for a week, it is dark in there with no windows except some hardware cloth high on the south end and a hardware cloth door on the north end. Once home, a small 64 square foot pen was erected and they were allowed out into the grass to peck and scratch. If they return into the Palace on their own for the next few nights, I will remove the pen and give them free range time again.

    I don’t really want to have to set real fence posts and erect a wire fence to give them more room if they balk at using the Palace as their new home. I have the posts and the old fence wire available if I have to take that route.

    Tomorrow I will have daughter and her kiddos here for Easter dinner. I have hidden some eggs with trinkets and coins in them for an Easter Egg hunt, though I suspect grandson will find it childish as a young teen. Granddaughter will enjoy it. There are six different colors of eggs and I have assigned 3 colors to each, plus a small Chocolate bunny each, so it will be fair and no arguments (I hope). At the Farmer’s Market I bought Hot Cross buns for the bread for dinner to go with the ham, au gratin potatoes with local cheese, and a green salad or cooked vegetable. I wish the asparagus were up, but not yet. Daughter will bring deviled eggs and we will enjoy some time togther. I found out this week that both sons have had at least one vaccine, so maybe we will be able to see all of our family again soon.

  • We Won’t Need April Showers, Thank you

    In ski country, when the snow pack melts, they call it mud season. There are parts of the country that could use rain, snow, or the other YUK we have been receiving.

    Mornings and evenings require donning the thick ugly pink barn coat, a hat or the coat hood, muck boots (sometimes ice cleats would be nice), either leather or thick fleece gloves depending on what task needs to be done. Boldly opening the door to the garage, gathering feed and water bucket, tentatively opening the door to the outside and assessing my safety on the stoop there. Is it wet, coated with ice, or deep in snow. At this point, I actually prefer the snow, at least I can safely walk in it. Some days when looking out, the grass and trees glisten with tiny icicles hanging from the limbs and fences. Those mornings are treacherous, the stoop and other surfaces, including the grass are like stepping on a kitchen floor where cooking oil was spilled, but for the past week or so, even though surfaces resemble the ice palace in Dr. Zhivago, the surface below is mud, thick, goopy, slimy mud. If one surface doesn’t get you, the other one will.

    I keep a good thick layer of hay in the chicken run, which as I have mentioned before, is sloped, highest at the end away from the pop door. After opening, or chipping the ice off the gate to pry it open so I can get to the pop door, the first step is always a challenge. For some reason, the preferred scratching place in the run is right in front of the gate, thus all the hay gets piled deep at the other end in front of the coop. Of course, the rain, freezing rain, snow haven’t helped as they make the hay itself slick once compacted. Every few days, a new layer is put down and every evening when I lock them in for the night, I drag hay back uphill to the gate for my evening and next morning safety.

    Each morning for the past couple of weeks have looked like the above pictures. The top one was this morning with freezing rain forecast, but it is pouring down not frozen rain as I write. We are in full blown mud season.

    The daylilies have sprouted tender green tips which will get burned by the next onslaught of bitter cold, which is sure to come. The mud will freeze again and thaw again before the grass and trees sprout to drink up the spring showers. After two warm winters, my plans to get more cardboard down in the garden and build up a couple of new beds have been foiled by real winter this year. Maybe it is good that I can’t garden year round, this winter is giving my body the needed rest.

    Yesterday, on our Anniversary, we drove into town and got drive thru breakfast, it was too icy on Saturday when we usually do it, so we missed the Farmer’s Market, but so did many of the vendors. We picked up curbside delivery of grocery items and came home, sitting near each other as I spun on my new spindle, a gift from my love, and some on my wheel as one of the fibers I purchased for my blanket, though enough was spun on spindles to fulfill the one block requirement (actually there will be two), I don’t like spinning that particular fiber on spindles, so the remainder of the braid is being done on the wheel.

    Late in the day, we picked up the Valentine’s Day special from the local BBQ restaurant and drove down to the river to eat. We arrived to pick up our 5:15 p.m. order at 5:10 and it was already sitting packed on the counter, so it wasn’t hot. Packed in styrofoam clamshell contains, several each, cutting and eating from them was a challenge in the car. We should have brought it home and put it on real plates, rewarming what could be warmed. It was not the fancy anniversary dinner of the past, but it was shared together, watching the river flow by in the drizzly gloom. It was a very uneventful day, but a day spent with each other. Another tick off on the calendar of our lives together and another to look forward to.

  • Forty Three Years

    We started later in life than many couples and married quickly after meeting. We were introduced less than a year prior and so very different, but it worked. After Christmas we had gone skiing in Vermont, my first real ski trip and I promptly separated my shoulder, but managed to bundle up enough to restrict it and skied anyway. We got home on New Year’s Eve and went to have my shoulder checked out at the E.R., leaving after X-rays with a sling and instructions for follow up. Early in the evening, we went out for a drink then home to avoid New Year’s Eve amateur night and as the ball dropped, he proposed. He later said that my continuing to ski though injured was the clincher. The family was gathering on New Year’s Day at my grandparent’s house for black eyed peas, collards, and ham (he doesn’t like the peas or collards) and we made our announcement.

    Discussing wedding dates, he picked Valentine’s Day, 6 short weeks away, stating that if he ever forgot it, he was in double trouble. He has never forgotten it, has feigned feeling fine to go out for a dinner at a fine restaurant only to crash and burn as soon as we got home. There have been overnights away from the kids when they were small, nicer dinners at home when our budget wouldn’t allow, B&B weekends when the kids were old enough to be left alone, a ski trip to Colorado with cousin his wife, and a cruise for number 40 with celebrations on two nights on the ship and horseback riding on the beach in the Honduras 3 years ago today.

    Our wedding was small and simple, an off the rack Gunny Sack dress for me. We did rent the ugliest tuxes for the men, my matron of honor kindly made her own long skirt and blouse. A simple long stem rose for a bouquet, a halo of rose buds and baby’s breath on my hair. A simple gold band of connected hearts for my ring, and a reception at my parent’s home of punch, nuts, and a cake given to us by my grandmother.

    We have had a good 43 years together. This past year with COVID restrictions has been enough to test any relationship and we have come through it together. Tomorrow, we will celebrate 43, but we won’t be going to a fancy restaurant, on a cruise, or away to a B&B, we will celebrate quietly together. Maybe next year we will again be allowed to travel and we will celebrate 44 away.

    Who are those young folks.

  • The pups

    Nine years ago the end of February or early March, we drove to Lancaster area of Pennsylvania to pick up a puppy. DH wanted an English Mastiff. I had no clue what they looked like, their temperament, their size. The puppies that were left from the litter were in a pen in a shed. The mom had a huge litter during a bitter freeze and they lost part of the litter of pups. When we got there, Ranger and only a couple of his siblings were left. DH was in love with a 22 pound ball of skin and fur. He asked if we could see the parents who were up a hill in the welding shop on the household’s property so the owner called up and told them to let the dogs out. They came bounding down the hill like a couple of freight trains and though I’m not afraid of dogs, I was frightened at the sight of these two huge beasts with jowls flapping, racing down the hill. I wondered what we were getting into.

    Eight week old Ranger and DH

    When we were headed home, the frightened pup let loose from both ends, requiring a stop at the nearest store for paper towels, gallon jug of water, and a serious clean up of the crate and the pup. I had put a towel in the crate and it was fouled, so we purchased a fleece blanket to line the crate. Once home, he wouldn’t climb the stairs or go back down them. Daughter told us not to carry him up or he would never learn and we wouldn’t be able to deal with him grown. How true that is as he grew over the next two years to a 200 pound gentle giant.

    Here he is, about a year old with eldest grandson using him as a pillow. They are still buddies when grandson comes to visit. Ranger has ridden to Florida when daughter lived there with his head in Grandson’s lap as he was travelling with us that summer.

    When he was a younger dog, he would play soccer with a rigid horse ball, kicking it around the yard with his feet until it would roll down the back field to the fence. He couldn’t get it back up himself, requiring one of us to go get it, but we would have to put the ball in a canvas sack so he couldn’t see it or he would spend the entire walk back up the hill trying to get it from us. Now his energy level lasts only a few short minutes, he no longer plays with the horse ball, but will pick up a large softer ball on a rope, fling it around dangerously, and bring it for you to hold the other end. He never caught on to tug of war, thank goodness, as he could pull me across the house.

    Two weeks after we got him, we drove back to Pennsylvania to get a German Shepherd pup. She was a beautiful, dark, long haired shepherd and I fell in love instantly. Unfortunately, she only lived with us for 8 weeks before a serious neurological defect required us to have her euthanized. Later in the summer, on our way to Florida, we picked up a 16 week old German Shepherd that has had recurrent health issues, is very, very needy, but afraid of her own shadow.

    My little gal Meeko before she failed.
    Put you phone down and pay attention to me, says Shadow as soon as you sit down.

    When they were younger, they would go on hikes with us, but the German Shepherd never wanted to walk where there were crowds, bicycles, skateboards, or people with walking sticks, so we would go to the woods. Ranger wanted the attention of people at the Farmer’s Market and on the rail grade trail, but didn’t like loading in the car. He loves rides, but getting in and out has been an issue for years.

    DH with Shadow and Ranger on the War Spur Trail overlook.

    They are both 9 years old now. He is an old man that is so fearful of going down the steps that he is limited to only coming up to the loft at night. There is no way we could get him down if he didn’t eventually do it on his own. She, because of her various ailments is old for her age as a German Shepherd. Unfortunately, the two of them never bonded like the Ranger and Meeko did in their short time together. Shadow tries to herd Ranger, he tolerates her most of the time, but will rebuke her occasionally.

    Tiny Ranger and Meeko playing tug of war.

    The big guy is a sweet, chill, gentle giant that loves most people (especially kids), cats, but not other strange dogs after he was bitten by a Pit Bull at the dog park, the last time we ever went there.

    What do yo mean, “relax, I am relaxed.”

    And for size reference, this is Ranger at about 2 years old, so mostly full grown, sitting in DH’s lap in the old “Chair.”