Volume 8, Week 43, June 14-20, 2015
So, to pick-up where we left off, there are probably a few things you could do that would be a bit smarter than going on a 40 mile bike ride when its 106, 2 weeks into your training regimen. We cut it back to 30 miles and still could’ve died. Carol felt the need to expound on the intelligence of this activity at great length.
I’ve done it before on hot days; in fact, hot air over sweat feels cool, but I must’ve been in better shape then.
The next day I opted for 5:00 a.m. and can tell you that it’s an entirely different experience. Dark gets chased off by the sun, the world’s taking in breath, anticipating a new adventure. Thirty miles, you’re back by 6:30 and off to work by 7:00. Yeah, it’s an hour or so late, but the boss is getting up there, he doesn’t get out like he used to.
At the end of the day, I have a little ritual of bringing home a half dozen boxes of cull fruit and dumping them over the fence to the critters. Let me tell you about them. We have a Barbie dream pony named Wild Fire that rules his domain in regal fashion, 2 geese that are always on high alert like homeland security, there’s no sneakin’ up on this pair.
Now, the juvenile delinquents on our farm are the blue jays. I’ve never been too sure what their contribution to creation is; they eat my fruit, play tag and make a ruckus. But out in the pasture, the bad boys are the goats. We have 3 siblings that eat and butt heads viciously all day for no apparent reason; wake up, butt heads, eat, butt heads, take a nap.
The ducks are fun. Everyone needs a couple ducks at home to lighten the day. Ducks laugh at their own jokes in true Red Skelton fashion. The joke wasn’t so funny, but after 30 seconds of watching him laugh at it, you can hardly breathe from laughing yourself.
The duck’s love fruit, but they’re dentally challenged. The geese have a pointy beak and can generally get things going—while the other one stands watch of course—ducks not so much.
Fortunately, the ducks have an ally in Doug the Orange County pot bellied pig. Doug thinks the next nectarine is probably going to be even better than this one, so he grunts along in a most annoyed manner; seemingly irritated that his nap has been disturbed, swishing his tail like Pumba and taking a bite out of each one he comes to; letting the juice run down his jaw. Our grandson Micah uses the same technique:
Well, once a fruit is started like that, the ducks can follow behind chortling at how funny Doug is and get their fill.
Doug has a built in stop eating mechanism. He eats until his pot belly touches the ground and then goes back to his nap on the cool earth in the shade by the pond.
Regardless how things are in the world, feeding the animals is sanity restoration.