May 31, 2022 May Play Days

Mattie in the high mountains on our day of exploring

Sometimes a month simply flies by because so much is happening. Other times a month merely slips by with everyday life, and I have to review calendars, photos, Google TimeLine, and anything else I can come up with to figure out, "What in the world did we do this month?" Mo and I are sitting at our desks in the office, drinking Sunday morning coffee and looking forward to daughter Deborah visiting later for omelets and conversation. It is raining. Hard. It has been raining for two full days now. I stepped outside at 6 and reveled in the dampness, the birds singing, everything wet and green the way outsiders picture the "real" Oregon. It is beautiful and so refreshing. After years of drought and the lower part of our non–irrigated property turning brown in early May, it is a wonder to still have green grass growing in early June.

When we both look back over May, what comes to mind most is mowing, weeding, raking, hauling, and more mowing. We brought up other activities as we were talking, but somehow the pleasure of the green yard and all the growing things seems to supersede anything else at the moment.

Yes, the deer are always trying to figure out how to eat whatever is growing on our property.  Sometimes I can stay ahead of them with Deer-Out, other times they win.

We began our month with a rather exciting kerfuffle. Home from our most recent trip to Silver Falls, we parked the rig in the yard for a few days so Mo could wash it and I could get the interior cleaned up. Once it was clean, I did the typical backing maneuver we use to put the MoHo safely in her shed. Mo had the door open. I am backing watching her in the mirrors to get the rig lined up perfectly. I can't see much in the camera at this moment. The inside of the RV shed is dark, and the sun usually reflects so that I can only see Mo in the mirrors. She carefully directs me in, just far enough to let me miss the mirrors and far enough right that I miss the kayaks hanging on the wall.

CRUNCH>!!!

 

WTH happened? I holler, and Mo says it must be the air conditioner. We both look at the RV Shed door, raised as usual but just not as high as usual. Neither of us saw it. So much for the fancy double domed skylight over the shower. At least it wasn't the air conditioner. So, in addition to mowing, Mo spent much of the month obtaining the replacement, removing the old skylight, and replacing it. The only good thing about the entire process is that the rig was in the shed with plenty of room for her to work in a sheltered space.

While Mo spent her days dealing with the skylight, I dinked around in the yard for a few hours each day. I do love dinking in the yard. We knew that getting the drip system that we installed last year up to speed again was a priority. But with the heavy rains we had all month, at least the gardens weren't drying out with the usual spring desiccation that happens almost instantly as winter ends. We have fresh gravel to spread in the areas of the yard covered with decomposed granite to bury the red clay that would destroy everything if exposed. That rock pile has been around for a few weeks and is still waiting. We will get it done eventually. The DG gets thin over time, and with limited water, we need to have areas of the property that aren't dirty but don't require water.

Happily, the sprinklers are now working, almost 100 percent updated, and joy of all joys, the well seems to be recharging at a fantastic rate. I have a geology mindset that groundwater will recharge quickly with good rains, but our deep bedrock groundwater aquifer will take decades to recharge after a long drought cycle. With only 2.5 GPM, this matters. Hence the areas of our property are either unirrigated or covered with gravel. Yes, there is a lot of green in the good parts, and I have a postage stamp green lawn that my eco-conscious grandchild chides me about.

But back to May. Looking at the calendar, I suddenly remember Cinco de Mayo. A holiday that I have never really celebrated, and I have read that it isn't even celebrated much in Mexico. But what better excuse to have friends over for Mexican food and margaritas?

Mother’s Day was simple and sweet.  I received beautiful flowers from each of my daughters and Deborah treated Mo and I and her son Matthew to lunch at Red Robin.  She asked if I wanted to go somewhere nicer, but no, I was in the mood for a fat blue cheese burger and no fancy crowds.  It was a lovely afternoon.

Mo and I fiddled with my puzzle addiction and went to the Downton Abbey movie in between mowing and hauling debris. It was fun for me as an old DA fan who has watched the entire series. I could see how it would be utterly dull for someone who didn't care about the people in the movie. Mo didn't know any of them, and a lot of the film is spent with long stills of large groups of faces of people the fans know and love. It was a reunion of sorts. Mo slept through most of it.

Maryruth and I went to the Farmer's Market, thrilled by the gorgeous displays of early spring produce and coming home with huge fat radishes and fresh strawberries.

I enjoyed a great book group meeting in our founder's front yard, complete with California poppies on the table. Sarah was so tickled that she could actually pick the poppies because, in California, where she lived before her move here, it was illegal to do so. The poppies are growing like crazy at our place after years of babying the one plant that made it through our home construction. They finally took over the rocky slope of fill that supports the RV shed.

Everything is later this year. Blooms are showing up at least 3 to 4 weeks later than usual, and I have lots of photos to remind me of that. Obsessively I cruise through my yard photos of the previous years, wondering when the roses will show or when the rhodies will bloom.

I decided that May truly is the best month here in Grants Pass. The rhodies are in full bloom, the magnificent iris are everywhere, the pink dogwoods are still blooming, and the leaves on the trees are still bright green without that dark olive color that takes over when the heat comes. I love May, and it is my favorite month. Mo says, "You said that about October last year too. You are fickle." Maybe so.

Toward the end of the month, we actually did something unrelated to the yard. We loaded up the kayaks for a day trip to our old world near Rocky Point. Long-time readers have undoubtedly seen a bazillion photos of Recreation Creek and Malone Springs, but here we are again, kayaking in our favorite place to kayak. Even better than Florida. There isn't as much wildlife compared to verdant, rich Florida, but there are no alligators, and we don't have to drive 6,000 miles to kayak here.

We ended our lovely day of kayaking with a visit with good friends from our Rocky Point days.  Mata and Jim Rust have lived there for decades and know all the ins and outs of that small, somewhat tightly knit community.  It was wonderful to sit on the porch with a good glass of wine enjoying their magnificent view and great conversation.  We hadn’t seen Mata and Jim since they visited us at our Rogue River boondock site a couple of years ago.

Memorial Day is a big deal in Grants Pass. For 62 years, a non-profit foundation has put on a huge celebration called "Boatnik." The big draw is the boat races on the Rogue River, but the parade and the fireworks are also big draws. I had plans to go to the fireworks, but at ten at night, with cold weather and clouds, we decided to stay home for the Friday night festivities. Saturday morning, it dawned cold and rainy, and once again, we decided to skip the fun hometown Memorial Day parade. I just couldn't get excited about sitting in the rain. A friend who went said it didn't actually rain, but the parade was so long that after two hours, she finally gave up and took her kids to the carnival. Once again, we talked about going to the second night of fireworks on Sunday night. Instead, we listened to them from our balcony with tiny flashes of light over the river showing through the big, fully leafed oak trees to the north of the property. We are so lucky that Mattie could care less about fireworks and barely notices them.

Finally, on Monday, we decided that we really wanted to at least attend some of the festivities. The weather had turned nicely with some gorgeous blue skies and puffy whites. We drove to Riverside Park, and I reveled in the very best benefit of all from my disability. That blue parking tag gets us through all the gates and closed roads to the handicapped parking zone right at the park's edge. From where we parked the car, it was about 100 yards to the midway and all the delightful carnival noises of happy kids. I celebrated with my favorite fair food, a giant, perfectly lightly crisped corn dog.

Walking to the river's edge, we could barely hear the choir singing for the Memorial Day Ceremony. Still, I did manage to stand in a perfect place to take a video of the flag being unfurled over the Caveman Bridge as the Star-Spangled Banner sounded over the loudspeakers. I cried like I used to when I was a kid in school in the mornings before class when they played the anthem and raised the flag. Sometimes that old memory of patriotism and love for my country will surface. There were no politics to think about on that gorgeous Monday in the park.

The big event we came to see was the flyover of the fighter jets from Klamath Falls, doing their rounds over southern Oregon all the way to Gold Beach and back, flying low over the Rogue River here in Grants Pass. I stood in an area along the river, hoping for a great shot. There was a zoom, loud and instantaneous. Only one plane flew over, and it was much too fast for me to catch it, even in a video. A bit of a disappointment, actually. Others said there were two planes over Medford, and some said there were two over Grants Pass, but others said only one. Either way, it was fun to be there. Maybe next time, instead of being right in the park, we will attempt to be on a bridge. There are three that cross the river in this town.

That was the end of May, but we began the month of June with an exploration that we had talked about for a long time. Readers and friends know how much we love the Applegate Valley, filled with farms and wineries and gorgeous views. One of the views from the valley is of the magnificent mountains to the west and south, part of the Siskiyous. Few roads penetrate those mountains, but a few weeks ago, Mo said, "We need to explore the mountains above the Applegate." Instead of simply saying, "We sure do!" I put it on the calendar, and June 1 was the day.

I did a bit of research, traveled the roads as best I could with google maps, and figured out a route for us to attempt to get to a high point in the range closest to the Applegate Valley .Our goal was the Whiskey Ridge Viewpoint, technically in California just south of the state line. Once we left the main road through the Applegate and headed up Thompson Creek, the road turned narrow and twisty. Turning onto FS Road 1035, we began our ascent to the high country. I was so happy that I had researched and downloaded our route and the maps for offline viewing. I printed a map, and we took the Oregon Gazetteer but would have needed an actual quad sheet to actually be able to navigate that road and all the side roads. With the offline google map, we had no trouble knowing exactly where we were and exactly which turn we needed to take to get to our destination.

It was a gorgeous day, with lots of sun and some clouds. We made it as far as the Whiskey Peak Trailhead, but just a few hundred yards beyond that point, we were stopped by snow deep enough that we didn't feel like tackling it in the Tracker. Maybe another day. The wildflowers were beautiful at that elevation and I saw two that we had never seen before. The first photo is Calochortus tolmei, sometimes called white cats ears.  The second is a flower familiar to many of my California friends, but not to me, Silene hookeri, Hooker’s Indian Pink, although a few of those friends had to guess at the exact variety.  We all know it is impossible to key out a flower with a photo.

The fun part of this ride for me was the quiet. Mo drove much of the way, and I spent long moments in mental solitude reminiscing about all the wild mountain dirt roads I navigated as part of my work as a soil scientist in many backcountry mountains for soil survey. I had enough time to mentally attempt to figure out just how many dirt roads like this one I had driven over my career and came up with something like 300,000 miles over 30 years. As Mo drove down that mountain, it was like a crazy deja vu where every road I had traveled in every survey in four states rolled by in my mind. I remembered enjoyable times when I would tease my grandsons by driving as fast down those dirt roads backward as I could go forward.

As we continued back down the mountain, there were a few overlooks where it was possible to see Mt Shasta to the east and Mt McLoughlin to the north, both at the same time, with Applegate Lake, the source of the beautiful Applegate River, a tributary of the Rogue.

It was a precious day in the mountains, with gorgeous views into the Red Butte Wilderness just south of the Oregon border. Even though it was actually June, I still think of it as a fitting end to the play days of May.

08-03 through 08-06-2021 August Reunion at the Beach

I was suddenly awakened from my blogging slumber when I read Janna’s blog this afternoon, Restoration Cowboy Style.  Blogging has become a chore for her and she is no longer going to blog about their great ranch life in Montana and Arizona.  After so many years, Janna’s blog remains one of the few that I still read and I am sad to see it go. 

I know that with my commitment to very little more than a post or two for each month my own readership has waned.  At least I suspect that it has, although the counters on the blog dashboard pages insist there are thousands of folks reading every time I post some mundane thing about every day life.  Bots, I am sure…not real people.

Still, I am not ready to give it up, in spite of the fact that it can sometimes be a chore.  For me, it is only a chore when I am thinking about doing it, but after I begin, most of the time it becomes a sweet delight.  Sad to say, I enjoy my own writing!  Is that embarrassing or what?  I write as I think.  My grammar and syntax aren’t always by the rules.  Incomplete sentences.  Incorrect punctuation.  Too many or too few commas.  Mo tries to keep me in line, reviewing the blog and making suggestions.  I usually edit accordingly but not always.  Hence, you get what you get.  But the better story is that I get what I want.  I get stories that remind me of how it felt to be doing whatever we were doing at the time.  So it is, my faithful handful of readers, that you still get my stories, and I have something fun to print in a book and read again as the years pass by.

We are in the deepest of the “dog days of summer”, with August burning holes in my brain with heat and smoke.  I check the fire and smoke maps on a daily basis, hoping for a hint of some relief.  Once again, Grants Pass is thick with smoke from the many fires in California, in addition to the chain of fires ignited by lightning along the Cascade crest to our east.  Winds are predicted to come to help clear the smoke, but they have yet to appear. 

Most of the time there is a nice view of mountains in the distance beyond the trees when the smoke clears.

I walk around the property, the ground beneath my feet cracked and hard as cement except for the small patches of green grass that we tend carefully.  I know about xeri-scaping, planting drought tolerant species instead of water hungry lawns. We don’t water half of our property in the summer. 

I also know that when it is 105 degrees or so for days on end, those small patches of green make stepping outside the front door almost tolerable, a bit of an oasis.

I spend the mornings checking the well and the cistern levels, and calculating our water budget for the day.  With extended days of triple digit temperatures, everything suffers.  I ease my frustrations by going to the computer and looking at the photos of summers past, and hunting for the images that reflect that a change is in the air.  Maybe by mid-September?  Most certainly by the first of October, although rain may not appear until November and hopefully by then the fires will be snuffed out completely.

Such is life in the heat of summer in Southern Oregon.  Such is life in summers that each year break records for the hottest temperatures and the highest number of acres burned in the fires.

The big gravel driveway on the side of the property is great for getting in and out with the Motorhome, and for hosting guests occasionally.  It does capture a LOT of debris from our ancient black oaks. It is too hot to rake, even in the early mornings.

Still, there is a silver lining, or maybe I should call it a silvery gray fog lining.  Just a short distance west, the Oregon Coast waits with cool temperatures, foggy days, and only rare hints of the smoke that lies to the east. 

The Oukrop Family gathering had been planned for several months.  Roger, Mo’s brother, passed away just four years ago, but his wife Nancy took it upon herself to make reservations for the extended family at South Beach State Park once again, a favorite of Roger’s. 

Family members came from Oregon, Washington, Illinois, and Colorado to gather at the beach.  We stayed in a mixture of motorhomes, trailers, yurts and local hotels.  A few members of the family couldn’t make it this time, including Mo’s sister Edna and her youngest brother Don and his extended family.  We missed them all.  I think we tried to count a few times and got up to 33 before losing count once again because it was hard to get everyone in the same place at the same time.

South Beach State Park is about 5 hours north from Grants Pass.  There are several options for crossing the coast range between I-5 and the beach, and this time we chose to travel north to Sutherlin and follow the Umpqua River Highway 138 toward Reedsport, turning north towards Newport on Highway 101. South Beach is just two miles or so south of the lovely coastal city of Newport, famous for the Newport Aquarium and one of the prettiest bridges on the Oregon Coast.

When we arrived Monday afternoon, the skies were surprisingly clear and surprisingly chilly at 59 degrees F.  A big difference from what we left behind at home!  I was surprised that even though I was craving cooler temperatures I had a bit of a time adjusting to the chill on that first evening.

Left to right: Rachel, Mike, Mo, Sue, Chere, Dan

Since much of the family was still in transit, Mo and I decided to go out to eat in Newport with brother Dan and wife Chere and their daughter Rachel and son-in-law Mike. Many of the restaurant choices in Newport were closed, with several reasons posted on websites.  Some said they couldn’t get employees, some said they couldn’t get enough food, some were closed completely due to the limitations of the past year of COVID.  We did finally find an open restaurant, The Taphouse Brewery at Nye Creek.  The wait to be seated was over an hour and with a chill wind blowing we were at a bit of a loss as to what to do during the wait.  The beach was just down the block, so we braved the wind and wandered down to watch the waves and the few people who were doing the same.

Our dinner was a mixed bag of not so good and absolutely delicious.  We were seated at a large table, with plenty of social distance between tables, but still had another hour or so wait for our food to arrive.  The ordered appetizers didn’t show up until after the main courses were delivered and seemed a bit redundant by then.  The sweet potato fries and french fries on some of the meals were literally cold.  Who knows my luck, but my sweet potato fries and fish tacos were hot and some of the best fish tacos with the most interesting condiments I have ever tasted!

“Semolina crusted NW Pacific cod, Taphouse slaw, chipotle aioli, pomegranate chili molasses syrup, avocado, lime, smoky tomato salsa and house made tortilla chips.”

I was in heaven.  In fairness, the server found some hot fries for the rest of the people at our table and took the cost of the appetizers off the final bill.  The entire evening was just a taste of what small towns are experiencing during this time of COVID shortages with food and personnel. Sad.

We settled in quietly that first evening, and slept well with the distant sound of waves and the foghorn on the jetty just north of the beach.  Tuesday morning dawned surprisingly clear.  I had somehow expected fog.  I offered to take Mattie for her morning walk and ended up following the path to the beach.  We were camped in the A loop, a choice I learned to love because the beach walk was just 1/4 mile from our site.  When we have camped in the loops to the north the walks to the beach aren’t paved all the way and are 1/3 and 1/2 mile respectively from the campsites to the beach.

That first morning was gorgeous.  I wasn’t up to slogging down the sandy slope that morning and with an empty beach it was easy to let Mattie off-leash to run in the sand.  If you have read this blog much in the past, you know that running in soft beach sand it Mattie’s favorite thing.

Look closely (click on the photo above to enlarge) and you can see Mattie running freely on the empty beach and my shadow at the top of the dune taking her photo

By the time I returned and Mo and I had coffee and a bit of breakfast, family members were gathering at Dan and Chere’s campsite with discussions of what might happen during the day.  Our choice was to walk back to the beach once again with one group while another group chose to visit Newport. 

Left to right:  Rachel, Susan, Danny, Marci, and her husband Jon, with Dan and his dog Sophie on the low far right in the distance.

Jon, Sue, Mo, Sophie, and Brother Dan

The wind was blowing and the temps were quite chilly, but the dogs and kids didn’t mind in the least.  I discovered that it was much warmer sitting in the sand and I realized that I could actually enjoy sitting at the beach rather than walking along the shore for miles and miles.  Learning to sit and enjoy and be quiet rather than having to be on the move all the time is quite a lesson for me.  I had to have help getting up, but it was worth it to just relax and enjoy with Mo’s nieces, Susan, Rachel, and Marci, and watching the younger kids play.

Rachel, Susan, and Marci

The afternoon slid by with a bit of reading and napping for Mo and I before we walked across the campground road from our place to Dan’s place.  Most of the family gathered for a meal with some folks bringing their own food in addition to the spaghetti that Chere provided. 

Mo’s niece Juli and her husband Hallie on the right, with another niece Angi in the blue hat.  Angie’s daughter Ashli and her beau Evan facing the camera.

We enjoyed watching Dan and Jon teach Mo’s great-nephews, Danny and David, how to chop wood and build a fire.  We didn’t last long that evening thanks to the chill but the fire was nice.

Mo with her great nephew, Susan’s youngest son, David

The next morning again dawned bright and sunny with no fog in sight.  That is rather unusual for the Oregon Coast in summer where a chilly marine layer often hangs over the beaches. The plan for the day featured some kayak time on Beaver Creek, a wildlife area where we have kayaked in the past when visiting South Beach.

We offered our kayaks to Susan and Danny , and Dan took the younger David on his inflatable kayak.  The group only had about 90 minutes on the water because it was important for them to get back to camp in time for the next exciting activity. 

Mo’s nieces Juli and Susan trying to get David into his wetsuit.  Right: David, Kalli, and Danny

Kalli,  (Mo’s great-niece), had arranged to rent skip boards and wet suits for ocean play.  The best entertainment of the day was watching the kids try to get the wet suits on and the biggest laugh of the trip was the moment when Danny suddenly realized that his wetsuit had a space for boobs.  He and Kalli had somehow managed to put on each other’s suits.

We all walked to the beach once again to watch the kids play.  This time however, I chose to remain high on the dunes and watch from a distance.  My rubber IBM legs were complaining a bit with all the walking I had been doing and deep, soft sand isn’t easy even when everything is working properly.

After a wonderful afternoon watching the kids play in the waves we meandered back home to relax a bit before supper.  Several of us thought it would be nice to get everyone together, so made a plan to meet at 5 at Dan and Chere’s place.  With folks arriving at different times, we did finally manage to have some time with the entire family together for a meal and a campfire.  Dan brought out an antique corn popper that Mo had given him years ago and the boys were delighted to try some real campfire popcorn, not something out of a microwave.

Different groups managed to enjoy some of the other sights along the coast, with side trips made by some to the Newport Aquarium, the Tillamook Cheese Factory, Depot Bay, and portside shopping in Newport.  Mo and I skipped the excursions since we have spent lots of time seeing the Oregon Coast.

Our last full day at the beach dawned foggy and cool. Once again the plan was to spend time on Beaver Creek with the kayaks. We left camp around 11, with the tides turning around noon.  It is helpful to go with the tides in the coastal waterways so that you aren’t fighting the tides in addition to the natural current. We timed our paddle so that we would be going upstream with the tide, and downstream when the tide turned back toward the ocean.

Dan took Kalli in his kayak and the four of us paddled about 3.5 miles up Beaver Creek toward the end of the wildlife area.  Even with the overcast, it was a beautiful morning with very little wind to trouble us on the trip back down the river toward the ocean.  We saw two eagles in the same area where yesterday’s group had seen them in the firs near the creek.  We also saw otters and many ducks. We enjoyed several displays of “duck-butts”, with ducks face down in the water with the butts sticking up as they feed in the creek.

When we have kayaked in the past, it was earlier in the season.  This time there were many blooming flowers and beautiful reflections of partially submerged logs.  Once again I had an opportunity to exit my kayak without much difficulty in knee deep water at an easy launch without any current to fight and a smooth bottom.  Every year at the beginning of the kayak season I worry, and yet so far so good and I am grateful.

The rest of the day was quiet, with a walk to the beach and a quiet afternoon in camp. Some of the family played horseshoes and some folks gathered at Dan and Chere’s place with others at Mo’s niece Juli’s yurt.  Mo and I  gave up on visiting and hung out at home watching one of our TV series on Netflix cast on to the MoHo TV.  It is wonderful to have the opportunity to spend time with family, but all the visiting, talking, and fun times wore us out.

The evening rain that was predicted never showed up, but the next morning Mo and I were still happy that we had packed up the outside rug and chairs the night before.  Breakfast was easy, and we spent a bit of time visiting with everyone before each group began the process of packing up and heading out.  The skies were gray with threatening rain that never materialized as we hooked up the Tracker and headed south on Highway 101 toward Florence.

Many years ago I discovered a wonderful quilt shop in Florence, Joy of Quilting.  Sadly, it was sold and I thought the owners went out of business.  Just recently on a Facebook quilt group I heard that they had opened a new store in Florence down in the old port area where the cute shops are located.  We arrived in Florence right at 11 when the shop opened and I delighted in the new shop.  It wasn’t as extensive as the old store, but they still had beautiful floral quilt fabrics that are sometimes hard to find elsewhere.

The drive home from Florence was easy.  We enjoyed the brilliant clear skies along the route beside the Umpqua River, savoring the 80 degree temperatures and the lack of smoke or haze.  It wasn’t until we gassed up the rig at Seven Feathers on I-5 that hints of the smoky conditions south of the Umpqua Divide appeared.  By the time we reached Sexton Mountain Pass, north of Grants Pass, it was apparent that we were returning from our cool, smoke-free, idyllic time on the coast to the heat and smoke has been plaguing our part of Oregon for so many days. 

It was nearly 100 degrees when we arrived at home. Mo and I decided it wasn’t necessary to empty the MoHo completely right away.  We got out the food and our night bags and escaped into the blessedly cool house.

That was ten days ago, and I have no idea how time has passed so quickly.  I have been completing the binding on the king sized quilt I made for daughter Deanna.  I also was under a deadline to complete a small lap quilt for daughter Melody’s birthday on August 12th.  Sadly, I didn’t make it in time, so her birthday present will be a bit late.  Lucky for me, she had somewhere to go for her long 4 day birthday weekend so a late present isn’t quite as awful as it could have been.

The rest of the time we have been managing the well, hand watering mornings when the cistern is full, and scheduling laundry loads between weekly shrub waterings.  As I write, at this very moment, a slight breeze is beginning to blow some of the smoke from our valley. I just stepped outside and I can see Mt Pittman, the peak Mo and I lovingly call “Pointy Mountain”.  I haven’t seen that peak in at least two weeks.  It is a good sign that maybe we get a bit of relief from the smoke and heat. 

It is easy for me to get down in the dumps with the heat and smoke.  Sometimes Facebook does good things, even though I usually just scroll past all the memes.  Recently a meme came up on Facebook from my youngest daughter asking what you do that makes you want to get up in the morning that feeds your soul each day.  I was especially shaky the morning that message showed up and I had to think about it a bit.  But each day since, I have paid more attention to the things that bring me delight.

One of those things is watching Mattie wake up.  Every single morning she sleeps till 8, and when we let her out of her crate she does big long stretches on the rug before tearing down the hallway to the back door.  I love the rat-a-tat-tat of her paws on the hardwood and am glad it doesn’t damage the wood! She does little doggie dances waiting for us to catch up and let her out.  She then races around the property for a few minutes, doing her business as far away as possible along the fenceline, and then races back up the stairs. 

She waits till we tell her she can come in, races past the kitchen island, does a two circle dance on the Turkish rug before racing down the hallway away for her breakfast.  Her tiny portion of breakfast finished, she races to the rug again for her morning treats, each trick is rewarded with a treat:  lie down, sit up, roll over.  Next on the agenda is a run to my lap, making sure that I have the appropriate quilt over my legs where she can snuggle.  I can’t tell you how wonderful this little morning routine feels.  Such a lesson in joy that isn’t dependent on a single thing except life itself.

Part 2 is a bit longer.  Not especially worth the time unless you love Mattie. I am a complete amateur without a clue how to actually edit a video, so this one is about 4 minutes long.  Mo and I laughed a lot when watching it. So Silly.  The talking in the background is goofy.

If you feel like it, here is the longer video