Monday

Happy Father's Day: How to Have One

Last year Glenn brought his father-in-law Harry to spend Father's Day with us because it being Sunday, Charla could spend the day with her mother who was in the hospital and Harry could get a break.

This year, Charla asked her Dad, "Do you want to go to the Farm with Glenn? His response was, "Not just Yes but Hell, Yes!"

So we have a new tradition. Harry spends Father's Day with the Campbells and after Church, we go eat prime rib and other seriously delicious food at Ricky's. 

What he said about Ricky's when we left there was that he enjoyed it, but not as much as he did last year when he wasn't expecting it to be so good. Ricky's is an old Golden Corral that defranchised and the manager stayed on. Much of the staff has been there for more than 20 years. It doesn't look like much but it sure is good.

Harry left behind 3 adult children, 8 grandchildren, a couple of Bonus Grands and too many great-grands for me to count to come spend a relaxed day. When we got home from town after a driving tour of the Boat Basin and the banks of the Flint River, he took a long nap in a recliner while Lane watched NASCAR beside him in another recliner. 

Glenn and I explored the yard and found a Hognosed Snake. We didn't bother him so he turned and slithered into the shrubbery trying his best to puff out his cheeks to look like a black cobra with white stripes. "Spreaking Adder" is what I've heard them called. Harry called it a 'puff adder' when we told about it.

They left with Father's Day mugs full of sugared peanuts cooked by Mrs. Willine for the fathers who came to
Church, and a quart of frozen blueberries. Supper was waiting for them when they got home to Florida and more love for PaPa and Daddy Glenn.

Saturday

Buffalo Checks Are In, Steampunk Is Out

Buffalo Checks Are In, Steampunk Is Out this fall.

I've never been a fan of Buffalo Checks. I believe a buffalo checked garment will be oh, so Last Year in winter of 2017.

While I was looking at photos from past years' garden shows, I realized that we're no longer seeing much steampunk, either. Steampunk started up about 10 years ago. Steampunk Magazine closed down after 9 issues.

What is Steampunk? Nineteenth century science fiction.

I need to see what else is In or Out.

Thursday

Goodbye, Ike

Ike the Cat is gone. No poems to make us sadder than we need be, no requiem, no photo.
He's been in a decline: thinning fur, taking longer to eat, losing weight, not quite his old self. He began to hide:in the tractor shop, up high on a stack of boxes refusing to answer my calls. Then one day he hid behind the freezer, reluctant to answer me. It got worse. Lane found him in the engine compartment of the Kubota RTV.

He left his favorite places to sleep, no longer taking up residence an a new cardboard box with a towel put out for his amusement, or spreading out in the dog hut as if he owned it.
When I finally called him up at noon in hopes of finding him in time for his 3pm appointment, he appeared from behind the roses as if he'd just now heard me. I went to the mule barn and went inside. He came in under the big door we'd left cracked just room for him.

 As soon as he was inside, he went over behind the air compressor and generator to find a place to hide. He came out when I brought food and water. I think he had stopped drinking water, his water bowl had stopped being sucked down quickly the way it used to.

The vet offered lab tests as little tufts of Ike's fur swirled around the exam room. I agreed. He showed me results. One line across the little blood smear meant NO Feline Leukemia. Two Lines across the smear below it meant positive for Feline Immunosuppresive Virus, the Kitty equivelent of HIV. Not a threat to people or dogs. Probably passed to him through a bite a few months ago when he lost the skin off his ear and had a deep puncture wound on his head. No immunization, no FIV drugs or antibiotics for it.
Eight years old, not a long life for a cat. He was named for the Hurricane that blew in about the time he turned up here, homeless rolling over to show what a cute kitty he was. We had him neutered, gave him all those exotic kitty shots every year, bought cat treats and gave him a heated cat hut for his winter bed.  He aspired to be a house cat but could not resist disgracing himself in a closet.

Sometimes he caught a mouse or two, or a squirrel. The last rat I saw him with, he let the dog take it away from him.

We'll miss him. He was a good kitty.

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