Goodbye Joe

Neighbors met on the tarmac tonight to bid goodbye to Joe Daly, who has sold his home and will return to California. His daughter, Patty, has been here for a few weeks, packing him up, running an estate sale, shipping the car, and so many other things to prepare for the move. We'll miss Joe, 87, and wish him all the luck in his new place in Santa Rosa, CA.

Jam time

The annual Strawberry/Rhubarb jam fest is under way. Marcy grabbed some rhubarb stalks at the Farmer's Market and now Mom is hard at it, chopping, simmering down, adding ingredients, pouring,etc. And soon there will be eight mason jar pints filled with the coveted product and passed out to family and friends.

Now. . . who gets 'em?

What's he got in there?

Bargain seekers showed up at 7:30 this morning for Joe's Estate Sale. The sale didn't start until 9. The crowd filled the cul-de-sac with their cars and patiently waited for the doors to go up on the big event.(I bet this crowd has garages in their backyard for the stuff they get) A sunny day made the wait a lot nicer!

Busy, busy

He does snow too.

Lots of action in the 'hood today. Joe's pod arrived from The Packrat and was plopped in front of his garage. There will be a big estate sale over the weekend, the pros have been organizing it all week long. Everything must go... including Joe. We're sad to see him return to his home state of California, but at age 87, it was time. His daughter Patty is here from Seattle to make sure everything goes right, and then our new neighbors will move in.
Meanwhile the grass is growing like crazy and our contractor Chris is busy making his rounds.
Just around the corner a summer deck is being rebuilt including new black spindles.
Lots of action in the 'hood.

You never know. . .

No. It's not Emily from years ago. Today Missy stopped by with some of her daycare kids and
this little sweetheart had her picture taken with the birthday girl. (May 24)

You know by now that when a man sits alone in the booth nearby and looks like he’s talking to himself, he’s probably just on a phone, doing the rude thing.

Or…

Today we were at our favorite rib place for Kathleen’s annual birthday slab. We were distracted by a gentleman, sitting alone, talking to himself. We looked for a phone, saw none.

Really. Turns out, our waiter later explained, the unfortunate customer comes in at exactly the same time each week and orders the same thing (two cokes, two plates of fries).

He’s a nice polite man, but sadly afflicted with Obsessive-compulsive behavior.

As we finished our birthday treats, we reminded ourselves how lucky we are.

Bogie on No. 16?

It's going to be alright.
Golfers stayed off the course this cold and rainy day, giving the stroke guy a chance to work on his golf stroke, sneaking on in winter coat and hat.
Using a seven-iron, winter gloves and a handful of balls, he did okay on 14 and 15, then, ta da, got to the flag in four strokes on the diminutive Stonebrooke No. 16 par 4. He couldn't finish the bogie because he had no putter, but he didn't care.
It's going to be alright.

History

Now you see it, now you don't. The flowering crab made its annual performance Sunday for all the Mothers, then the fragile blooms succumbed to 1) wind 2) a grandchild shaking down a rainstorm of blossoms and 3) a deluge today that gave a much-needed drenching to the premises. Kathleen got caught coming home from Macy's but made the garage safely.

Rose-breasted Grosbeak

This bird showed up for breakfast this morning with a red bib. We've never seen one like it here before. While awaiting response from our personal birder, Greg "Mayo" Johnson, Kathleen googled "red breasted bird" and we figured it out ourselves, Rose-breasted Grosbeak. It's a male, prefers sunflower seeds to the stuff at our finch feeder, but we hope he'll come back often and bring the family.

More fake news

You've seen this photo before on this blog. It's Grace, a great egret, in our backyard. Hai Dang,  who introduced us to Photoshop at the newspaper years ago, thought this would look better.

Happy eleventh, Emily!

Emily, reacting to an $ll cash gift from her Godfather Marcus.

Mom, with her friend, Diane

 She's 11 years old. We had a birthday party in the sunshine today. Lots of gifts for a much-loved pre-teen. She had her other birthday party earlier, with her young friends. Grandma, grandpa, godfather and aunt were not invited then. :).Today we made up for it. Missy threw a brunch at her place.
Aunt Marcy couldn't make it. She's in Denver, in charge of the punch at a friend's wedding.

Power tools?

Occupational therapy. The right hand is the hardest because
it does so much. Strength is returning thanks to daily
work at the Dakotah. It's a gym where beautiful bodies are
built. And me.

Every spring for 15 years we have taken down the storms and screwed in the screens on our summer porch. The window boxes are filled with petunias and such and we sit back to admire the result of a few hours work. Today’s fabulous weather and optimistic forecast got us itching. Andrew said he’d do the heavy work, but got tied up on another job. 

What the heck, we said, let's go ahead. And so it was today, stroke be damned, that we got the porch done -- the earliest ever, May 5. And what’s more, we used a power tool to tighten the screws on the hinges so the plants can be watered. “Stay away from power tools,” therapists would rightly warn. We were slow, we were careful, we got ‘er done. Stan is eyeing a chainsaw now. :)

Knock, knock; let us in! Open up. It's nasty out here.

It was too ugly today (39 with rain) for even the ducks. Mr. and Mrs. Mallard, two wild ducks looking for nesting hereabouts stopped by the back door today, pecking insistently on the window pane. We didn't offer any assistance however, and they soon waddled on to the pond, where they belong, even on such a gray day in May.