In the moment

Friday. The end of the work week. A chance to get caught up. Or a chance to review what got done and reset for next week what didn’t. 

Friday afternoon. The start of the weekend; a shift in routine for two days. A lull…a moment in time to be deliberate…to just breathe. Experience. Be.  

Got home from work, had dinner, then headed out to the field, to the strategically located dirt pile (yeah, it’s a thing) to fill a pot to plant the snap peas. 

Filled the pot with dirt, then went off to admire daffies….

    

…and tulips…

   

…and the rock garden….  
    

…picked up a few sticks on the way back to the ATV, and evaluated the situation…

    
   

…for which the only logical solution is a quick trip to the creek, that no one protested. 

Obviously. 

  

  

My girl dog is a big fan of big sticks. 

“I have my stick.”

  

“And I can let it go…”

 

“…and bring it back again…”

  

…and again and again. 

This look. It’s the on I get when I tell them it’s time to go.  
    
 

Srsly. I have to impersonate a blackjack dealer: show them my hands are completely empty … “No more sticks!” … before they reluctantly come out. 

  

  
And then insist. “E’rybody’s go home now.”

But SCHWIMMING!! 

 

Have you tried reasoning with a Hairy Beast lately? Especially one with *that face* …

In the end, I prevailed. Bribed them, if I’m honest, with another run. To be rewarded with a lovely late afternoon perspective. 

 
Well done, Friday. Well done.   

Wet Beast Season

So. However wistfully I may wish for it, there is no such thing as Dry Dog Days. 

In the spring, and fall, and winter, and sometimes early summer, too, it rains the proverbial cats and dogs. 

Most of summer proper there is water in the creek. This year, we had an unusually long window of nothing running, but that just means the wading pool is out and the sprinklers are on. 

{sigh}

But now it’s November and the rains are back. And my #babybeast can hardly contain herself.  

 

Because rain means {shudder} the creek is running!!

  

And that means SCHWIMMING!!!  

    
    
 

SCHWIMMING is her favorite. 

   
 Zeke, he likes the water, but he’s only good for a lunge or two. 

But SCHWIMMING. And diving!
     

   

We’ve just discovered how much fun is diving. 

   
 
A wet dog is a happy dog. Long live Wet Dog Season. 

  

How to be a Hairy Beast: Greg Louganis style

When the water in the creek is now stagnant, and only about two inches deep, what’s a dog to do?

Move to the pool, of course.


Schwimming and diving! SQWEE! Woof! Whatevs. Happy beast.

Oh, and for the record… it is Wet Dog season all.year.long.

{sigh}

How to be a Hairy Beast: #beastmode

The kids are so So SO happy the hay is done and they have their field back. 

   
Run the Beasties, run the Beasties…

 

… run the hairy, Hairy Beasts….

So, my girl dog learned a new trick. 

  
Yup, that’s the ATV her shadow is perched on. Riding. How #babybeast rolls. 

Adventures in Haying: day 5

Today was a little cooler, and that was lovely. Isn’t it something when 80-whatever-it-was feels cool? 

  
The hot weather’s been such a blessing though. My field is drying out so nicely. And (SQWEE!) my baler comes tomorrow. 

So….raking. I’m getting better at it. The old side-deliver rake takes some getting used to. #trueconfessions I prettied up one or two corners by hand. 

It was a good day in the field today. I had some QT with the Old Man discussing the rules to raking. Yeah, there aren’t any. Read the field, it’s different every year, make it up as you go. 

I had a few share-worthy thoughts, out in the field. But it’s late, and I’m tired, and tomorrow is another full day. 

So. Gratuitous #hairybeasts pics.