tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91334920744893974062024-03-13T11:41:20.830-05:00Grits & GraffitiCountry strong and City savvy...Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-45191137937335562012012-05-24T19:02:00.000-05:002012-05-24T19:02:24.962-05:00Rural Thursday: Early Fawns...Usually we collect the game camera cards every week, but we were a little tardy this week. We wanted to get them all cleared off in time for the fawns to start showing up. They're usually born anytime during the last week of May or the first week of June, depending on exact breeding dates. Imagine our surprise to find that there are already at least two little ones who were born by May 15th.<br />
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The following pictures were all captured by the same game camera situated in a persimmon grove (behind the camera) that is the deer's favorite feeding place, both day and night. From here they can watch the open pasture or escape pretty quickly into the deep woods.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1igt9_WlGTI/T768ZjPGkSI/AAAAAAAAAd0/8zxCjEFziXo/s1600/SUNP0095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1igt9_WlGTI/T768ZjPGkSI/AAAAAAAAAd0/8zxCjEFziXo/s400/SUNP0095.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little guy is probably at least a couple days old.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HA7pkq2tpLM/T768ZvKt9AI/AAAAAAAAAd4/kvjFHGcRdGU/s1600/SUNP0098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HA7pkq2tpLM/T768ZvKt9AI/AAAAAAAAAd4/kvjFHGcRdGU/s400/SUNP0098.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this little guy is a little less steady on his feet, possibly <br />having been born the previous night.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iXRvtVbPKXA/T769Cz_Y8CI/AAAAAAAAAeU/X7O8tjHILCE/s1600/SUNP0237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iXRvtVbPKXA/T769Cz_Y8CI/AAAAAAAAAeU/X7O8tjHILCE/s400/SUNP0237.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't he just too precious?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KyBQu3QqeIA/T768_hw-_3I/AAAAAAAAAeM/fyfMkfRVdro/s1600/SUNP0362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KyBQu3QqeIA/T768_hw-_3I/AAAAAAAAAeM/fyfMkfRVdro/s400/SUNP0362.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The shot immediately following this one on the camera card shows this one nursing, <br />but he's mostly blocked by his mama's legs, so I didn't include it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jMsGeRrwgCM/T769D1Ze5vI/AAAAAAAAAec/jND4YR35g6A/s1600/SUNP0461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jMsGeRrwgCM/T769D1Ze5vI/AAAAAAAAAec/jND4YR35g6A/s400/SUNP0461.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm sure his mama told him to stay hidden while she ran some errands, <br />but he decided to be brave and get a better view of the pasture anyway.</td></tr>
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We know that there are at least two fawns with two separate mothers, because the does have very different coloring in their face and tail areas, and the fawns have a different distribution of 'dots' along their necks.<br />
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And even though these two are early, we know there are more to come.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T88-MR8cNZw/T768eCINuQI/AAAAAAAAAeE/fpGu7_MY1rI/s1600/SUNP0080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T88-MR8cNZw/T768eCINuQI/AAAAAAAAAeE/fpGu7_MY1rI/s400/SUNP0080.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This doe appears pregnant, although she's still tending to her yearling.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dGZ9l8wYkMI/T77Gqof6UUI/AAAAAAAAAe0/AAED2FocX2g/s1600/SUNP0144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dGZ9l8wYkMI/T77Gqof6UUI/AAAAAAAAAe0/AAED2FocX2g/s400/SUNP0144.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This doe is obviously pregnant, too, and looks like she'll deliver twins. <br />Last year we had several sets of twins born at Le Rustique.</td></tr>
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I love the game cameras and the little window they give us onto the natural world of a whole bunch of critters. One thing we've learned from them is that deer are much more actively foraging during daylight hours than we used to think. Another thing that surprised us is that raccoons, opossums and deer will eat side-by-side in the dark of night. We haven't seen a single raccoon or opossum, though, on any of the game cameras since the bobcat meandered through. I do hope he's long gone from Le Rustique now and doesn't come back looking for a little fawn for breakfast.<br />
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If you like stories of rural life, head on over to the <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/05/rural-thursday-blog-hop-18.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank"><b>RURAL THURSDAY</b></a> blog hop and read many more.<br />
<br />Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-50142310726674424322012-05-22T22:06:00.000-05:002012-05-22T22:06:08.218-05:00Barn Charm: The Rest Of The Story...Omigosh! I got so busy outside all day that I nearly forgot it's Tuesday and time for Tricia's Barn Charm. I've been so excited to tell you this story that I can't believe I nearly forgot to post it. If it weren't for the chigger bites, I'd probably still be out there - so I guess I'm thankful for chigger bites???<br />
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Maybe you remember when I posted <a href="http://gritsandgraffiti.blogspot.com/2012/03/open-air-barn.html" target="_blank">this open air barn</a> to Barn Charm sometime in March.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-zY_IHsvQNwLLug58JbuYCMG6ZnzjtPyN3rdz5kvDe4jj186iNI8oyu9_ytaKG-t89v11oy-M33XgslQ6JnJDMD9n_m-tglLu5VZzUe0-Nfa-RvuEhd_dhtMYMxKXc_uOP1JeulPk7w/s1600/DSCF6314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-zY_IHsvQNwLLug58JbuYCMG6ZnzjtPyN3rdz5kvDe4jj186iNI8oyu9_ytaKG-t89v11oy-M33XgslQ6JnJDMD9n_m-tglLu5VZzUe0-Nfa-RvuEhd_dhtMYMxKXc_uOP1JeulPk7w/s400/DSCF6314.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A majestic old barn not far from Le Rustique in the heart of<br />
Smallville, between Rosebud & Owensville.</td></tr>
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Well a couple weeks ago, Big Daddy made his tractor decision and purchased a New Holland from Rosebud Tractor Company, owned by brothers John and Matt Estes. When Matt delivered the tractor and the all-important implements Big Daddy couldn't live without, he spent a few hours with us talking Tractor 101 and the virtues of brush hogging. And how can you have that conversation without talking about farms? John and Matt both live within minutes of us where, in addition to running their tractor business, they also raise cattle with their dad on the original family farm.<br />
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As soon as Matt described how they can watch 4th of July fireworks from four different towns up on the big hill <i>where the power line runs behind their old abandoned barn,</i> my brain clicked into gear. "That's your barn?" I squealed. [Well, I'm not really a squealer, but I was pretty excited just the same.]<br />
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Big Daddy and I told him about Missouri BARN Alliance and Tricia's Barn Charm. And then - Sweet Serendipity, How I Love You! - he invited us to "go on up there and take all the old wood you want, just be careful it doesn't fall down on you, and call John at the store ahead of time so he can alert Dad so he won't have to get off his new toy [a bulldozer] to come check on you."<br />
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And of course we took him up on his offer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pGvIJ8Tn0u0/T7u_wUK8c_I/AAAAAAAAAcg/ZqU5gY_iyJI/s1600/DSCF7153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pGvIJ8Tn0u0/T7u_wUK8c_I/AAAAAAAAAcg/ZqU5gY_iyJI/s400/DSCF7153.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We drove up from behind and realized it's even more air-conditioned than we thought.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pm16K-3afaw/T7u_wjEz3cI/AAAAAAAAAck/NRFsiL6XIs8/s1600/DSCF7158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pm16K-3afaw/T7u_wjEz3cI/AAAAAAAAAck/NRFsiL6XIs8/s400/DSCF7158.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This door immediately caught my eye, and my mind <br />began racing for ways to use it fully intact.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AdMlnuQ_FAs/T7u_wLBiqDI/AAAAAAAAAcY/BHKCkVTmss0/s1600/DSCF7161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AdMlnuQ_FAs/T7u_wLBiqDI/AAAAAAAAAcY/BHKCkVTmss0/s400/DSCF7161.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's Big Daddy assessing access to the hayloft.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_zc89BmGnAM/T7vAY9B99lI/AAAAAAAAAcw/PLpXX4c2WYc/s1600/DSCF7167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_zc89BmGnAM/T7vAY9B99lI/AAAAAAAAAcw/PLpXX4c2WYc/s400/DSCF7167.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And here's the hay loft, complete with collapsed hay bales and growing grass.<br />But still, the structure is beautiful to me.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez3WMkffJsA/T7vAZwfkvUI/AAAAAAAAAc4/fZ5hDicPKGU/s1600/DSCF7171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez3WMkffJsA/T7vAZwfkvUI/AAAAAAAAAc4/fZ5hDicPKGU/s400/DSCF7171.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All those reachable gorgeous weathered planks are still pretty <br />well-protected beneath tightly secured tin panels.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vXd7b52OKvE/T7vAaFqq0kI/AAAAAAAAAc8/_79gk7J1eVo/s1600/DSCF7173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vXd7b52OKvE/T7vAaFqq0kI/AAAAAAAAAc8/_79gk7J1eVo/s400/DSCF7173.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another door, more tin panels - and aren't those panels interesting?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ONWgUXL45yY/T7vBC284QHI/AAAAAAAAAdI/WMC5apdoEZY/s1600/DSCF7174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ONWgUXL45yY/T7vBC284QHI/AAAAAAAAAdI/WMC5apdoEZY/s400/DSCF7174.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And here is why it wasn't possible to start dismantling <br />tin panels to retrieve those upper planks - the <br />whole thing might have collapsed on us.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WZXk4XK34hM/T7vBDE8s1-I/AAAAAAAAAdM/_QReST3WKGQ/s1600/DSCF7182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WZXk4XK34hM/T7vBDE8s1-I/AAAAAAAAAdM/_QReST3WKGQ/s400/DSCF7182.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is the sum of what we took. There are five doors with rotted <br />bottoms and a handful of odd-sized pieces of loose wood.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3dqdL6CSVuI/T7vBDr6WSAI/AAAAAAAAAdY/9_rjWuuDmlI/s1600/DSCF7185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3dqdL6CSVuI/T7vBDr6WSAI/AAAAAAAAAdY/9_rjWuuDmlI/s400/DSCF7185.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The haul is stacked in our barn. I love, love, love <br />the color of weathered barn wood.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8klkhQDPlN4/T7vBRdyuQFI/AAAAAAAAAdg/kiGO7MBaoJo/s1600/DSCF7191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8klkhQDPlN4/T7vBRdyuQFI/AAAAAAAAAdg/kiGO7MBaoJo/s400/DSCF7191.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five doors awaiting a new purpose.</td></tr>
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Of course I had to ask Matt why they stopped using that old barn and why so many Missouri barns like it have been left to deteriorate. His explanations made sense, so I did a little historical research - and to keep this blog from becoming the size of <i>War and Peace</i>, I'll write about in the next day or two.<br />
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When I sent my thank-you note, I told John & Matt to call us as soon as the wind takes it down so Big Daddy and I can come help them clean up, stack wood and, of course, get a few of those long straight planks. As exciting as that would be, in my heart I hope the old barn stands in defiance forever.<br />
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Linking up with Tricia's<br />
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<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="background-color: white; color: #e33e3e; font-family: Unkempt; font-size: 24px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
<a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/05/barn-charm-86.html" target="_blank">Barn Charm ♥86♥</a></h3>
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<br />Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-55284134321752611062012-05-17T14:24:00.000-05:002012-05-17T14:24:02.517-05:00Parsley In A Pear Tree...If you've been following my blog for a while, you've probably figured out that Big Daddy is a bit of a character. And for those of you who are less frequent visitors here, I'll just clue you in right now - the man of the house is a study in contrasts. On the one hand, he's a serious guy working hard to provide for his family, his engineering partners, their clients and employees. On the other hand, he's a goofball whose humor can come at you from various angles - sometimes simultaneously, and sometimes when you least expect it.<br />
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He can lay the groundwork for a practical joke knowing full well that it might take months to bring it to fruition, but that's part of the fun for him. When we gather as a family, he always figures out some oddball challenge to keep us busy and entertained (like the recent wife-carry race or blow-dart competition). He sometimes says about himself, "If I had more money, I'd admit to being eccentric," but he's living proof that wealth has nothing to do with eccentricity.<br />
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And he loves to put his own words to well-known music. As he did the other morning when I gathered a big bundle of parsley that had survived the winter, but bolted early. As I brought the bundle into the kitchen to wash and chop, he started singing, "And some parsley in a pear tree..." to the tune of <i>Twelve Days of Christmas</i>, adding other words and phrases throughout the day. Because he sang it every time he walked into the kitchen, and because I couldn't get the tune out of my head, I decided to make it reality.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DVqAnu1OiWc/T7UKoG3qSUI/AAAAAAAAAbM/DqfNdJRCeZk/s1600/DSCF6952.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DVqAnu1OiWc/T7UKoG3qSUI/AAAAAAAAAbM/DqfNdJRCeZk/s320/DSCF6952.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And some pars-le-e-e in a pear tree."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_2cSPmqbuxM/T7UKoc5eTKI/AAAAAAAAAbU/H4xOdTEpQMg/s1600/DSCF6959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_2cSPmqbuxM/T7UKoc5eTKI/AAAAAAAAAbU/H4xOdTEpQMg/s400/DSCF6959.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ground is so dry under this tree that we've been hauling water to it<br />
in hope that it 's enough to keep the pears growing.</td></tr>
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The first summer we owned Le Rustique, we got a bumper crop of pears from this tree. The previous owners took some, we gave a few boxes away, I made a lot of pear pies (sometimes with onions, sometimes with ginger), and I froze bags of them to use in smoothies all winter long. Last year the tree was even heavier with fruit, but the week before we were going to harvest the pears, someone stole every last pear off the tree. This tree was nearly forty-feet high, loaded from top to bottom (except where the deer could reach in the middle of the night), and suddenly there wasn't a single pear left on it.<br />
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After I got over being furious that someone would do that - and could do it out in the open and so close to our house without being caught - I wanted to cry, but I'm too pragmatic for that. Instead, we took advantage of there being no fruit on the tree to give it a long-overdue haircut.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U4g67cctFQs/T7UQmLT6MwI/AAAAAAAAAbw/ewfMQarAmVY/s1600/DSCF4290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U4g67cctFQs/T7UQmLT6MwI/AAAAAAAAAbw/ewfMQarAmVY/s400/DSCF4290.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By the time I ran to get my camera, this guy was nearly done giving <br />the pear tree a good thinning and topping off.</td></tr>
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Sometime this summer, we're installing security cameras, and Big Daddy is going to put a sign next to the tree saying, "DON'T STEAL OUR PEARS! SECURITY CAMERAS IN USE." Can you believe the gall of some people? And how in the world did they manage to pull if off? In the city they steal your lawn mower, in the country they steal your pears???<br />
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Linking to <b><a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/05/rural-thursday-blog-hop-17-diy.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank">Rural Thursday</a></b>, where the stories and photos from rural folk everywhere are worth a look.<br />
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<a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/05/rural-thursday-blog-hop-17-diy.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNndm-CVi_IIre1vUQT2HRDHCmJKPWdMtjXsqd356WkUN05slkatjNWTPWAzEznudnEJdkjfmPQ7k9ismGqPdu9epEKZfiJrPu4a5Huj-EDUnBZQek1HzYQclLiyjknupePCMfn-Rlcs/s1600/RuralThursday.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-77548811678887417642012-05-16T00:41:00.000-05:002012-05-16T00:41:27.826-05:00Barn Charm: A Little Help From My Friends...Okay, I've missed the last two weeks of Barn Charm, but I've had good intentions and even better excuses. So, rather than miss out again this week because I'm having trouble sorting photos for a very special barn post, I'm relying on a little help from Big Daddy. Last week he was driving through Kentucky on a business trip with a couple of his partners, and they were kind enough to gather some barn shots for me.<br />
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I love this barn, because it still has evidence of the advertising painted on the end facing the road. And because the advertising is for tobacco - something that is no longer legal to promote in this country, even on the side of your own barn.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UjEv-zLThK8/T7M0eqRrCFI/AAAAAAAAAaI/-EOBve32KvE/s1600/DSC00386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UjEv-zLThK8/T7M0eqRrCFI/AAAAAAAAAaI/-EOBve32KvE/s400/DSC00386.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another old barn ready to fall in the next windstorm that blows through Kentucky.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zvYhrr3lc18/T7M3weZb-6I/AAAAAAAAAag/R1K9-w045nk/s1600/DSC00387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zvYhrr3lc18/T7M3weZb-6I/AAAAAAAAAag/R1K9-w045nk/s400/DSC00387.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An historical piece of Americana.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aBEMRBG9QIE/T7M0NJmacSI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/yYtgcvI2_Es/s1600/378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aBEMRBG9QIE/T7M0NJmacSI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/yYtgcvI2_Es/s400/378.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe they were thinking, "Let's document the documentarian." Or maybe<br />they were bored with stopping to let Big Daddy get another shot of another barn.</td></tr>
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Linking up with Tricia's<br />
<a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/05/barn-charm-85.html" style="font-family: Unkempt; font-size: 24px;" target="_blank"><i>Barn Charm 85</i></a><br />
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Be sure to stop by there for some great shots of more charming barns.</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-60138365875730216452012-05-06T18:26:00.000-05:002012-05-06T18:26:29.633-05:00Hello Kitty...Big Daddy made his weekly rounds of the game cameras we keep in the woods of Le Rustique, and we were stunned to find this shot among the more typical ones of deer and turkey. There appears to be a little more wildlife around here than we first thought.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z_IqX4OGl68b_aoLCCAyBQuusmyRYK7ufzwOvTxlmtZYoxAC5QUzLvfVDcpz-ja4tMscAH3u6fMHjVV-O2aXIbFdK16GG-_FH1uyE6le6XkFO6YOsk_L9Ek8rhl7KHkonGbqKcnlzM0/s1600/PICT0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z_IqX4OGl68b_aoLCCAyBQuusmyRYK7ufzwOvTxlmtZYoxAC5QUzLvfVDcpz-ja4tMscAH3u6fMHjVV-O2aXIbFdK16GG-_FH1uyE6le6XkFO6YOsk_L9Ek8rhl7KHkonGbqKcnlzM0/s400/PICT0012.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well - Hello Kitty! You're up and about quite early at just after 5:00 a.m.</td></tr>
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At first we thought this was a juvenile mountain lion, because of the distinctive shape of the head and ears, but the shorter tail, foreleg markings and tufting under the chin make it more likely a mature bobcat. We did send the photo to Missouri Department of Conservation for verification, but we haven't heard anything yet. Anyone else have an opinion?<br />
<br />Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-88184705108525608432012-04-29T10:56:00.000-05:002012-04-29T10:56:56.136-05:00Great Horned Owl - RIP...The air in the house felt a little stuffy, but the temperature outside was dropping. A perfect night to open the windows, turn on the ceiling fan, crawl under the covers and get a good night's sleep with both dogs snuggling right in there, too.<br />
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Sometime in the middle of the night Big Daddy awoke and thought, "Oh, no. That ceiling fan finally bit the dust, and now I've got one more thing to add to my to-do list." And he went back to sleep.<br />
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A while later I awoke and thought, "I wonder why Big Daddy turned off the ceiling fan. It's not like him to get chilled in the middle of the night." And I went back to sleep.<br />
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When I got up early in the morning to let the dogs out, I realized we had no electricity. Strange, since the only time we might normally lose electricity is in the midst of a dangerous wind and thunder storm, but the previous night had been dry and calm.<br />
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So I used my cell phone to call the power company, anticipating a recording telling me they are aware of the problem and expecting it to be repaired by a certain time. Instead, I learned I was the first to report an outage in my area. And less than half an hour later, a power company lineman was at our house resetting the breaker on the transformer and showing us the reason behind the outage, which was limited to our house - a Great Horned Owl had been electrocuted when he decided to perch right next to that transformer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vfFH1Fefeic/T51M30CYcwI/AAAAAAAAAYc/MvruDrNETeA/s1600/DSCF6907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vfFH1Fefeic/T51M30CYcwI/AAAAAAAAAYc/MvruDrNETeA/s400/DSCF6907.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was such a majestic bird. Note the feathering on the right upper side<br />
of his head, which gives the "horned" appearance.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-04uqdfIgLPg/T51M4CBsZxI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/6Sfeh0zOLVU/s1600/DSCF6908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-04uqdfIgLPg/T51M4CBsZxI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/6Sfeh0zOLVU/s400/DSCF6908.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The coloring on his underside was quite intricate. Note how the foot on the left appears drawn in.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eS11XkXiGac/T51M3hTBEeI/AAAAAAAAAYU/9vVvV7scyFA/s1600/DSCF6914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eS11XkXiGac/T51M3hTBEeI/AAAAAAAAAYU/9vVvV7scyFA/s400/DSCF6914.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His talons show how he was able to grab and hold onto his prey.<br />
Note the zapped talon on the left where mega volts of electricity entered his body.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tA6yhXHqwDE/T51NgXt7__I/AAAAAAAAAYs/x2_AppQDFt4/s1600/DSCF6915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tA6yhXHqwDE/T51NgXt7__I/AAAAAAAAAYs/x2_AppQDFt4/s400/DSCF6915.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is what he would have looked like in flight. Again, the "horns" over the eyes and the white band under his head verify that he was a Great Horned Owl.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MeplRyvUv_c/T51Nh1x18lI/AAAAAAAAAY0/eROVQzt02KY/s1600/DSCF6919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MeplRyvUv_c/T51Nh1x18lI/AAAAAAAAAY0/eROVQzt02KY/s400/DSCF6919.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is another view of that zapped talon.</td></tr>
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This is not the first owl to meet his demise at Le Rustique, but the other incident is a whole different story (saved for another day). Of course we would have liked to keep this owl, but it's against federal law to do so. Since this owl was so freshly dead and also intact (except for one talon), I was certain our local office of Missouri Department of Conservation would want to come and get it. It would make a great educational specimen. Instead, as they did with the other owl, they told us just to take it into the woods for disposal. And so, with a prayer for the spirit of the owl and a hope that he had not been the only one here, we took him into the woods.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_rcAWFyTi8Q/T51NiDbexpI/AAAAAAAAAY4/6gwSFiUE1qo/s1600/DSCF6925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_rcAWFyTi8Q/T51NiDbexpI/AAAAAAAAAY4/6gwSFiUE1qo/s400/DSCF6925.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We chose a spot deep in the woods, but not in the densest area, and <br />we laid his body inconspicuously at the base of an old dying cedar tree.</td></tr>
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The good news is that later that same day and throughout the night, we heard more owls sounding their beautiful hoots all around Le Rustique. We can only hope that those sounds are wafting the spirit of our owl to some hallowed land.<br />
<br />
One of my favorite books of all time is<span style="color: magenta;"> </span><b><i>I Heard The Owl Call My Name</i></b>, a small novel by Margaret Craven (Copyright 1973). It was out of print for several years, but it's available again <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_14?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=i+heard+the+owl+call+my+name&sprefix=i+heard+the+ow%2Caps%2C181" target="_blank">HERE</a>. It's a beautiful read if you're interested.<br />Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-12424251968601917322012-04-28T09:48:00.000-05:002012-04-28T09:52:42.445-05:00Flowers for Leontien...To Leontien: As you bravely face each day, please know that you are not alone. I add my flowers and my prayers to hundreds more - just for you.<br />
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You can follow Leontien's story in her own words at <a href="http://www.fourleafcloverdairy.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Four Leaf Clover Diary</a>. And please add your flowers for her through the link below as she finds the strength to conquer breast cancer once again.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/p/flowers-for-leontien.html" target="_blank"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7058/6970972788_7d4f0d8d87_o.png" /></a>
</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-57008295974875555322012-04-26T09:33:00.000-05:002012-04-26T09:33:00.405-05:00A Walk In The Woods: Lewis And Clark Expedition...Sometimes if you can just get a kid into the woods and let him do the talking, he amazes you. BumperT did just that recently. When #1Daughter's family last visited, we all went for a walk in the woods as soon as the rain let up. We headed straight to the waterfall, because it's at its showiest after a rain.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIjXuej8f2LOwiVUWOwywJKV2pncWLGUO1kBIdtcw4bwVZJjAw0JXb2HUIvHQI5jIvpPPt3OhFrcfHDdOhCUJIEtTWLONJl9KxyFWB2kX_Ey1WvtEC28k9tiy8GJUbezP_WBJl5SLzEU/s1600/DSCF6843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIjXuej8f2LOwiVUWOwywJKV2pncWLGUO1kBIdtcw4bwVZJjAw0JXb2HUIvHQI5jIvpPPt3OhFrcfHDdOhCUJIEtTWLONJl9KxyFWB2kX_Ey1WvtEC28k9tiy8GJUbezP_WBJl5SLzEU/s320/DSCF6843.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our waterfall. The day before, it was flowing over the rock on the left as well.</td></tr>
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By the time this next shot was taken BumperT had announced that we were all going to pretend we were part of the Lewis & Clark Corps of Discovery Expedition that left St. Louis in 1804 shortly after ceremonies transferring the Louisiana Territory to the United States.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcCFpgWBs7kjPzPhxjuWau8HiHsvSjF72pEl2rh0GGwO8YDZH2Lx6qO0H-0dRzFd9SrloIH2i8Fu4uNHoN6RH74iMI-5H7DvnOuaHTQXtVDmn85sRQDRLEaKFSjzKpm0wnjXO_l9KhPg/s1600/DSCF6853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcCFpgWBs7kjPzPhxjuWau8HiHsvSjF72pEl2rh0GGwO8YDZH2Lx6qO0H-0dRzFd9SrloIH2i8Fu4uNHoN6RH74iMI-5H7DvnOuaHTQXtVDmn85sRQDRLEaKFSjzKpm0wnjXO_l9KhPg/s320/DSCF6853.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BumperT, who had declared himself to be William Clark, casually informs BumperK that, as Meriwether Lewis, she was only going to live to be 35. He appointed her the primary scribe documenting the Expedition.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnMnJDucuEXBR1ed4tQHL885qadpWSbBs2RNpOuY7PBaaVQEvCLZOJWmLJvgdxvIPOCYxR9oQ-5_SwGFRh4XBiYtd9fj6X6lZnxXlqQMM2P27u7m6lEgrtwYZKrer-6ao5_hHwrRbvZh4/s1600/DSCF6856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnMnJDucuEXBR1ed4tQHL885qadpWSbBs2RNpOuY7PBaaVQEvCLZOJWmLJvgdxvIPOCYxR9oQ-5_SwGFRh4XBiYtd9fj6X6lZnxXlqQMM2P27u7m6lEgrtwYZKrer-6ao5_hHwrRbvZh4/s320/DSCF6856.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While Clark contemplates the dangerous and swift rapids of the Missouri River, his mother says she wants to play, too. He assigns her the role of Sakakawea and entertains us with tales of controversy over the spelling and pronunciation of her name, for many years thought to be Sakajawea or Sacagewea.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcbPyEQwLQcuW02KnrEOJbFxQSUza-i_s-izoN0HnGn8jiegm4dDtXjPXGRlSP03jVfdcBo4-UB8KgZBmlnuPQFrTHVF4IGfwke3iSt-x2FHiVERkDpKaMwLAqFkV5dCqtLfKISBPKeM/s1600/DSCF6861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcbPyEQwLQcuW02KnrEOJbFxQSUza-i_s-izoN0HnGn8jiegm4dDtXjPXGRlSP03jVfdcBo4-UB8KgZBmlnuPQFrTHVF4IGfwke3iSt-x2FHiVERkDpKaMwLAqFkV5dCqtLfKISBPKeM/s320/DSCF6861.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By now I've been assigned the role of Charbonneau, husband of Sakakawea, close friend of Meriwether Lewis, and
experienced water traveler. Due to the latter, I am invited to accompany Clark on an exploration of a major fork in the Missouri River.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEcP5ijoV2j6vTxJ-S92ZTXrNhyphenhyphenxhguqI8djNQe7jYfz_MSXzOZ9pWoK6C2WwQjHfYLKVSJzFP0Wuhjg9ixHAWNpQWsrWDuiWOHf_clHj3MwVKZyDERXnVtqAx4gvgLeuFeQFit7mMKM/s1600/DSCF6863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEcP5ijoV2j6vTxJ-S92ZTXrNhyphenhyphenxhguqI8djNQe7jYfz_MSXzOZ9pWoK6C2WwQjHfYLKVSJzFP0Wuhjg9ixHAWNpQWsrWDuiWOHf_clHj3MwVKZyDERXnVtqAx4gvgLeuFeQFit7mMKM/s320/DSCF6863.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All forks lead back to the main passageway, and detailed exploration slows down forward progress. FaveSIL didn't bring his boots along, so the only logical role for him was as Thomas Jefferson overseeing the Expedition from afar.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDjDh_w7AyDclOOE-YjWi-PZoGx5NpC3nrjto0SU11fUaO7FC3pk1In0bmPaCTBkkvaN93scZ23W195HswcM0_xCA-IjtRLmWz_pv-SYZBiM2mxoSv47KpQplsXcM9rQw-N2NPNdpp6s/s1600/DSCF6867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDjDh_w7AyDclOOE-YjWi-PZoGx5NpC3nrjto0SU11fUaO7FC3pk1In0bmPaCTBkkvaN93scZ23W195HswcM0_xCA-IjtRLmWz_pv-SYZBiM2mxoSv47KpQplsXcM9rQw-N2NPNdpp6s/s320/DSCF6867.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As the group senses that they are getting closer to their goal of reaching the Pacific Ocean, members of the Expedition often step away to privately contemplate how this trip has changed them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhZELPPPO_nugV5uOO2x2JCxSv1FvPXmx6npmzYbi5eAIg53vur9YoYkQvTQbBGOqjO1XxcfJG8ROmojzXxLi_OXeFieZT-hry97S17yLP_YrSAOHjlSI_VQyaRRCxFEWj1yYFaXP6sI/s1600/DSCF6870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhZELPPPO_nugV5uOO2x2JCxSv1FvPXmx6npmzYbi5eAIg53vur9YoYkQvTQbBGOqjO1XxcfJG8ROmojzXxLi_OXeFieZT-hry97S17yLP_YrSAOHjlSI_VQyaRRCxFEWj1yYFaXP6sI/s320/DSCF6870.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Success! We have reached the Pacific Ocean and opened a means of travel across this vast nation.</td></tr>
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We know we are at the end because we have reached the barbed wire fence along the property line separating Le Rustique from the grass-fed cattle next to us. And besides that, PapaJ (aka Big Daddy) has managed to portage the boat (aka the UTV) across perilous territory to pick up the crew and continue the overland portion of our tour.</div>
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The next morning, BumperT declared that he wanted to recreate the Expedition once again, because during the night he had remembered other important milestones he could teach us about. And more importantly, he wanted to see if we could find the opposite side of the big deer shed we found the day before (a side story for another blog.)</div>
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A smaller crew repeated the fun, but the return trip didn't go so well. Clark brought back a little more of the river this time, and we lost a member of the Expedition to a minor meltdown because we inadvertently laughed when she, too, filled her boots. Ah, the perils of the Corps of Discovery.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDUbza3cyU-IJ07loLB8UnekMOv0KtxumxRnOFSNr6DnaA_wYv_B3LYq7qIVIBp2BMsusaA4a8AIw5YpN5MZeV26nUflVOHE1bVpj-uKyLquvkjfI6gEFISj2wQ2Km0Bha4rE-0X4NrQ/s1600/DSCF6898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDUbza3cyU-IJ07loLB8UnekMOv0KtxumxRnOFSNr6DnaA_wYv_B3LYq7qIVIBp2BMsusaA4a8AIw5YpN5MZeV26nUflVOHE1bVpj-uKyLquvkjfI6gEFISj2wQ2Km0Bha4rE-0X4NrQ/s320/DSCF6898.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
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If you are ever in the St. Louis area or just want more information, <a href="http://www.campdubois.com/index.html" target="_blank">HERE</a> is a great place to visit.<br />
<br />
And I'm linking up to <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 22px;"><a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/04/rural-thursday-14-easy-pineapple-u-d.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank">Rural Thursday #14</a></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Old Standard TT';">It's a great place to read a lot of other rural stories and see some great rural photos.</span>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-51847749189638688692012-04-24T17:05:00.000-05:002012-04-24T17:05:26.735-05:00Barn Charm: On A Parking Lot...This barn sits on the back side of the parking lot for a local auction place. The man who drove up in his pickup to see what I wanted didn't appear to be very friendly, and his dogs were barking at me as they came from around the corner of the barn, so I didn't stay to chat and ask questions. Auctions are held next door to this barn twice a month, so maybe I'll stop by then and see if I can sneak a peek inside - with my camera in my pocket.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F-aRf8WPEeY/T5cecdHm61I/AAAAAAAAAWo/APp6A9WLl74/s1600/DSCF6822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F-aRf8WPEeY/T5cecdHm61I/AAAAAAAAAWo/APp6A9WLl74/s400/DSCF6822.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm always intrigued by this barn whenever I drive past, so I finally drove right in to snap a photo.<br />And that's all I got - just one photo.</td></tr>
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<br />
Linking up with<br />
<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Dancing Script'; font-size: 22px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; position: relative;">
<a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/04/barn-charm-82.html" target="_blank">Barn Charm ♥82♥</a></h3>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-70262629724060437722012-04-20T12:33:00.000-05:002012-04-20T12:33:38.645-05:00Setting Phoebe Free...Two years ago, amid the cleanup of the big Gulf oil spill, #1Daughter took Bumpers K & T to New Orleans for a wedding celebration. One souvenir BumperK brought home was a water turtle that had been rescued, cleaned up and placed in a big tank with a gajillion others in need of a home.<br />
<br />
The man in charge of the tank must have felt sorry for the little girl who has always wanted a dog, but whose mother is inexplicably "pet-free and proud." And he gambled that the mean momma who would deny her precious children a dog probably wouldn't object to the opportunity to do one little thing to help out the wildlife rescued from the oil spill. He gave BumperK a turtle, and she named it Phoebe.<br />
<br />
Phoebe made a lot of friends at her new home in St. Louis, but when it came time for fun stuff like soccer and scooters, she got left behind. At some point the little girl who finally had a pet-even-if-it-wasn't-a-dog began to think that Phoebe might be better off having friends a little more like herself. So a plan was hatched to set Phoebe free in Pondorie at Le Rustique.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4lvW-050XldXVL5Ck1x_KKu1oLbGvDcgwSuRFsPxJj9wt4MiO8NMOe11y89kWTEfFHWyKsNGtkYXlScSJS3_jMsSVKOZMve4EpRmnK5-Xi8BNF015i_va-axip9pTRsMHJMqJX6ltKE/s1600/DSCF6832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4lvW-050XldXVL5Ck1x_KKu1oLbGvDcgwSuRFsPxJj9wt4MiO8NMOe11y89kWTEfFHWyKsNGtkYXlScSJS3_jMsSVKOZMve4EpRmnK5-Xi8BNF015i_va-axip9pTRsMHJMqJX6ltKE/s400/DSCF6832.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BumperK and Phoebe</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7VAcD7K2GYPEc6zSQeqXnmVMTgJ8T3JHtpJ_WWr61jVdIugDtQT-0iXaySwnSfpBHjihpm__aaKLU-w3oX9zabYIxtssi-x-eORwlOaiHwjOEyCkcrcIgUNR9yZgXJ_0BkujAWPJ81c/s1600/DSCF6835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7VAcD7K2GYPEc6zSQeqXnmVMTgJ8T3JHtpJ_WWr61jVdIugDtQT-0iXaySwnSfpBHjihpm__aaKLU-w3oX9zabYIxtssi-x-eORwlOaiHwjOEyCkcrcIgUNR9yZgXJ_0BkujAWPJ81c/s400/DSCF6835.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phoebe contemplates her new home at Pondorie.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDHVEsupbLonL_y1jeY5u6wmkTGJ_8-b0BeZpZ2hopE5acroM13PACGakVXGy9zMt56fufSFZ0-vJPAwQla0HboFF-RuBPfejqNG496ittOTQ1sBBXB1XFV9bGrtTkdnUtds70tYCqXU/s1600/DSCF6837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDHVEsupbLonL_y1jeY5u6wmkTGJ_8-b0BeZpZ2hopE5acroM13PACGakVXGy9zMt56fufSFZ0-vJPAwQla0HboFF-RuBPfejqNG496ittOTQ1sBBXB1XFV9bGrtTkdnUtds70tYCqXU/s400/DSCF6837.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And before I could switch to video mode, Phoebe jumped right in.</td></tr>
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Oh, joy. Mission accomplished. And believe it or not, the mean momma is contemplating a dog once a big remodeling project now in progress at their house is completed. All's well that ends well, right?<br />
<br />
Okay, I know it's already Friday, but I'm still linking to<span style="font-size: large;"><b> <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/04/rural-thursday-blog-hop-14-bacon.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank">Rural Thursday</a></b></span>. I had a lot of trouble uploading these photos. I thought it would be better to post a day late than present pictures that were oriented both sideways and upside down. Be sure to check out all the other posts there - you know, the ones that were posted on time. There are always such a variety of interesting photos and stories.<br />
<br />Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-33318486768761552392012-04-09T22:32:00.000-05:002012-04-09T22:32:15.249-05:00Barn Charm: Rusty Roof and Rotting WoodI'm beginning to worry about the state of many old barns in Smallville. Already one I photographed has collapsed, and most of the others I've found close enough to the road to photograph (without getting yelled at, as in <a href="http://itsallaboutpurple-debbie.blogspot.com/2012/04/busted.html" target="_blank">Debbie</a>'s case) are either in dire need of repair or are probably too far gone to benefit from repair. Like this one.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkZq_WIzftgChyQKeAJM628d3HrIMiFDm-rPyurCOsEr6hrSzvk9hyWK3j_K_Kk6hs8Xm9lljihLwshWR3D_TnWZ5kufEuFdmEyWTK0veHdsNi8rq88XVkJAbJmpJ3V77lBK6V4EMMTU/s1600/DSCF6784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkZq_WIzftgChyQKeAJM628d3HrIMiFDm-rPyurCOsEr6hrSzvk9hyWK3j_K_Kk6hs8Xm9lljihLwshWR3D_TnWZ5kufEuFdmEyWTK0veHdsNi8rq88XVkJAbJmpJ3V77lBK6V4EMMTU/s640/DSCF6784.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every building (and car, for that matter) on this property is in similar shape, but the folks who <br />live there have a number of horses that appear well-fed.</td></tr>
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Can't we all come up with a list of a hundred adaptive re-uses for a barn? Maybe we could mail the list to the barn owner whenever we see one that is starting to slip - before it gets to this stage. Got any ideas?<br />
<br />
Linking to<br />
<a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/04/barn-charm-80.html" style="font-family: 'Dancing Script'; font-size: 30px;" target="_blank">Barn Charm ♥80♥</a><br />
<div>
I recommend you take a little time to browse some of the other sites linked up with Barn Charm - </div>
<div>
You'll see a lot of great barns (and some great shots of some no-longer-great barns).</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-72934323987703970562012-04-05T06:29:00.000-05:002012-04-05T06:29:03.986-05:00A Walk In The Woods: Turtles And MushroomsThe Missouri box turtles are on the move in our woods, and you can hardly go for a walk anywhere on the property without seeing them right now.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZPm88MYSLc1ikf_43rSfKXTaD6cxQZx3zRB7UYpVQhAYdz3tsaV69oiTmgkUDjT3v4ZRnasdGD0cM-Xweb2JV3-nwmxdtfW0MFvhNM1bZmPv9GWHPYH3A4goLaMkElzlU_h0o3ICIIR4/s1600/DSCF6624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZPm88MYSLc1ikf_43rSfKXTaD6cxQZx3zRB7UYpVQhAYdz3tsaV69oiTmgkUDjT3v4ZRnasdGD0cM-Xweb2JV3-nwmxdtfW0MFvhNM1bZmPv9GWHPYH3A4goLaMkElzlU_h0o3ICIIR4/s400/DSCF6624.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy is more out in the open than he'd like, but a turtle has to take a few risks <br />
in order to move from his winter grounds to his summer hideout.</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrf3aYMHA1_PdS4iL3zZG2EAlwb2IG-DPbjLd3Zj4DYOcVzj6kieTd_FXbVmKFq41DuBCw72j5HKktyCSss9C32YGh_UvLgg_GuFFDOvqHzQI2aySYKRf-oqxlNPe6s3PbvReMQRGZNg/s1600/DSCF6628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><br /><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrf3aYMHA1_PdS4iL3zZG2EAlwb2IG-DPbjLd3Zj4DYOcVzj6kieTd_FXbVmKFq41DuBCw72j5HKktyCSss9C32YGh_UvLgg_GuFFDOvqHzQI2aySYKRf-oqxlNPe6s3PbvReMQRGZNg/s400/DSCF6628.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He stood perfectly still while I walked around him and knelt down real <br />
close to his face for this shot. His shell is still dusty, meaning he recently <br />
came out of hibernation in one of our more distant creek beds.</td></tr>
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According to <a href="http://mdc.mo.gov/discover-nature/outdoor-recreation/nature-viewing/amphibians-and-reptiles/turtles/box-turtles" target="_blank">Missouri Department of Conservation</a> this particular turtle is a mature male, hence the brighter coloring on his head and forelegs. (And for the more observant, note the piece of <a href="http://gritsandgraffiti.blogspot.com/2012/02/walk-in-woods-mozarkite.html" target="_blank">Mozarkite</a> at about 2:00 from the turtle.<br />
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">The wet-weather or intermittent creeks are running just enough to keep parts of the forest floor damp, a prime condition for mushrooms to form amidst all the decay.</span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUF5lUhrseHs78glIMjSkcKoNXCoEMeq8wzJ0fcVrWqx2dx5dnQ1lgJOwh6dgcORG_8hjr9FBVRF0IgR6OJlEmxRzC94QCl8HVjF4zVmiB9N9RgBRDZ0WSlfp9dTulbRvBsPaA7KzDWI/s1600/DSCF6632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUF5lUhrseHs78glIMjSkcKoNXCoEMeq8wzJ0fcVrWqx2dx5dnQ1lgJOwh6dgcORG_8hjr9FBVRF0IgR6OJlEmxRzC94QCl8HVjF4zVmiB9N9RgBRDZ0WSlfp9dTulbRvBsPaA7KzDWI/s400/DSCF6632.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devil's Urn or Devil's Cup popping up in an area we burned last month. Obviously these <br />
leaves just got around to dropping recently, or they couldn't be there in that condition now.</td></tr>
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I'm excited now, because according to the <a href="http://www.mushroomexpert.com/urnula_craterium.html" target="_blank">Mushroom Expert</a> the emergence of Devil's Urn mushrooms may be a precursor to the emergence of morels - which we have yet to discover at Le Rustique even using techniques my grandpa taught me as a kid while spending time with him in Michigan.<br />
<br />
<br />
When I left the woods and made my way to our yard (Ha! - that's what we call it, because we mow it, but it ain't no real yard - just greener than dirt), I ran across another turtle - this time a young snapper.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheM_934-zAr9ZT0nSd3tlhY2JkanwTFxU2Lfu_OonRNXewGIf660L7RNn5RqCoz8oQMO3_p_I09rwHOAeouftPGfYQHn3s7HxeOxSIxmRuDfHTp5BOs8wm-Wnb6L7dD03rNQlmMjPPIYc/s1600/DSCF6677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheM_934-zAr9ZT0nSd3tlhY2JkanwTFxU2Lfu_OonRNXewGIf660L7RNn5RqCoz8oQMO3_p_I09rwHOAeouftPGfYQHn3s7HxeOxSIxmRuDfHTp5BOs8wm-Wnb6L7dD03rNQlmMjPPIYc/s400/DSCF6677.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This snapper was sassy. No sitting still for him. Every time I tried to pick him up out of the fourteen blades <br />
of grass we own to get a better shot of his armored shell, he hissed and lunged with his mouth wide open.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I was a kid, my uncle killed a snapping turtle that was "running" after us kids as we played in the backyard with hoses and a kiddie pool. His armor was at least 16" long, and he bit right through a broomstick my uncle used as bait. This little guy wasn't quite 3" long, but he wanted my finger to be his broomstick!<br />
<br />
Linking to <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/04/rural-thursday-11.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank">Rural Thursday</a>...<br />
Be sure to check out a diverse group of rural bloggers<br />
who always have something interesting to offer.<br />
<a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/04/rural-thursday-11.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank"><img alt="Rural Thursday Blog Hop" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6767202883_a67c982368_o.jpg" /></a>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-73348608217617514392012-04-04T04:30:00.000-05:002012-04-04T04:30:00.661-05:00Dammit: A Mouse Ate My...It was never my intention to swear on my blog. Not that I'm opposed to a well-deserved, well-placed salty word, I just figured I'd never be blogging about anything that bugged me enough to swear here. But dammit, a mouse ate my checkbook cover.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBX4xMY0ShdTITGLNWN8yulezYmuueZiC9chviXepAYTtaHnvWlImAW9-eRFZUluR36xfa-kFaa0YpCd8xcXxBtki1BJC0AMGV0iStE_xOTv80nSBWG_pJYYQF-vsjgdfQgcq4VRqQ-3c/s1600/DSCF6512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBX4xMY0ShdTITGLNWN8yulezYmuueZiC9chviXepAYTtaHnvWlImAW9-eRFZUluR36xfa-kFaa0YpCd8xcXxBtki1BJC0AMGV0iStE_xOTv80nSBWG_pJYYQF-vsjgdfQgcq4VRqQ-3c/s400/DSCF6512.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a polite nibble, but a thorough job of ruination.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And the reason that crazy, inconsequential act is worthy of a little swearing is because this particular checkbook cover has a story behind it. (You already knew that, right, because my favorite thing is always the story behind the story.) So here are the highlights:<br />
<ul>
<li>Summer of 1998 we hosted an exchange student from Japan at our house in the city.</li>
<li>She brought gifts of silk and food - the former because it is a symbol of great respect and appreciation; the latter because she wanted us to know the simple pleasures of her life in her home country.</li>
<li>She gave me this silk checkbook cover and insisted I use it and think about her, rather than store it away as a keepsake.</li>
<li>She loves potatoes, something she had never eaten in Japan. Big Daddy made it his mission to introduce her to as many ways of preparing potatoes as possible, although we seldom eat them ourselves. We made a list of every potato dish we could think of, and she checked them off one-by-one as we worked our way down the list. (Okay, that was a digression that has nothing to do with the checkbook cover, I know, but I just had to tell you what simple pleasure excited her most about America - that and steak.)</li>
<li>We spent a wonderful summer together and shared many experiences, including motorcycle rides along the Great River Road, para-sailing behind a huge jet boat on the Illinois River, chats with my dad about some of the places we lived in Japan when I was a child, and on and on.</li>
<li>Over the years we've kept in touch less frequently all the time, but we reserved very special places in each other's hearts. I knew I could always track her down through her parent's home in Fukushima, Japan.</li>
<li>And then just over a year ago a horrific tsunami hit the city of Fukushima, in her home prefecture, unleashing a dreadful nuclear disaster. And I've been unable to find her or her parents since.</li>
<li>But each time I pulled that checkbook cover out of my purse, I said a silent prayer for her safety as well as that of her sister and parents.</li>
<li>And now, dammit, a mouse ate that checkbook cover and the silk-like lining in my purse (along with a snack baggie of mixed nuts, which I carry should I ever be stranded without food). And the fact that Big Daddy came to my rescue (as always) and caught the little interloper in a peanut-butter baited trap doesn't make this loss any easier on me.</li>
</ul>
<div>
So, Mutsumi Kanno, should you ever do a Google search on yourself and run across this blog, please contact us and let us know that you and your family are recovering from your terrible losses as you pass that one-year anniversary of life-changing devastation.</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-55745255161540716032012-04-03T08:59:00.000-05:002012-04-09T22:03:40.363-05:00Barn Charm: Ominous Sky...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xH9QiKDozxFRa0kRzRjNhWaictAlmJJ8A73FwfaxeGNzrE5KlEc7ejAbhjYpGzXUPZWCVkxNWt0UYPW8NHscv83DYj-sT-cVGpvcYddXNi_DV0otq8wit9AGxH3FkkzhA7UjeQAakoI/s1600/DSCF6306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xH9QiKDozxFRa0kRzRjNhWaictAlmJJ8A73FwfaxeGNzrE5KlEc7ejAbhjYpGzXUPZWCVkxNWt0UYPW8NHscv83DYj-sT-cVGpvcYddXNi_DV0otq8wit9AGxH3FkkzhA7UjeQAakoI/s640/DSCF6306.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That barbed wire fence kept me from getting any closer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I loved how this white barn stood out against the ominous gray sky. I wish I could have gotten it from another angle or two, but that barbed wire fence looked a little ominous, too. I can see that I need to invest in a powerful telephoto lens, as this is as good as I could get this without distorting it.<br />
<br />
Linking up with<br />
<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="background-color: white; color: #ff9425; font-family: 'Dancing Script'; font-size: 30px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; position: relative;">
<a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/04/barn-charm-79.html" target="_blank">Barn Charm ♥79♥</a></h3>
<div>
Be sure to check out all the great posts with so many interesting barns from across the country.</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-31537909581367927802012-03-26T22:37:00.000-05:002012-05-22T11:51:36.996-05:00Barn Charm: Open-Air Barn...Big Daddy and I were running some errands and driving around Smallville on Friday when we spotted this open-air barn not far from our place. It was quite a ways up the hill from the road, on the other side of a fence and a creek, so it wasn't possible to get any closer.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-zY_IHsvQNwLLug58JbuYCMG6ZnzjtPyN3rdz5kvDe4jj186iNI8oyu9_ytaKG-t89v11oy-M33XgslQ6JnJDMD9n_m-tglLu5VZzUe0-Nfa-RvuEhd_dhtMYMxKXc_uOP1JeulPk7w/s1600/DSCF6314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-zY_IHsvQNwLLug58JbuYCMG6ZnzjtPyN3rdz5kvDe4jj186iNI8oyu9_ytaKG-t89v11oy-M33XgslQ6JnJDMD9n_m-tglLu5VZzUe0-Nfa-RvuEhd_dhtMYMxKXc_uOP1JeulPk7w/s640/DSCF6314.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Daddy took this shot for me, as it was on his side of the road and starting to rain.<br />
I love the little window Mother Nature left for us to peek through. Note the big power line running behind it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This is another one I'm going to have to keep checking on, as it looks like it's only a windstorm or two away from falling down. I hate that there are so many opportunities for 'before' and 'after' shots where the 'after' is nothing more than a pile of old barn wood.<br />
<br />
Linking up with<br />
<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="font-family: 'Dancing Script'; font-size: 36px;"><a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/03/barn-charm-78.html" target="_blank">Barn Charm ♥78♥</a> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">over at Bluff Area Daily</span></h3>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-67604243042489887812012-03-24T05:30:00.000-05:002012-03-24T07:57:07.358-05:00Hail The Martini...When it hails, we pour!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1MyX4W0AOGa4YoMJHCDirrgAfxz4imD1vkxRhtspmFtKDYKxkqv6BT4FIPpAWBgGpRqzClrV4SJK0hLwMMxGQl3oG82jrHeT_9hIyez06_A3qqSGCnualmKcycEpspeZwHr2u02BxMs/s1600/CIMG3176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1MyX4W0AOGa4YoMJHCDirrgAfxz4imD1vkxRhtspmFtKDYKxkqv6BT4FIPpAWBgGpRqzClrV4SJK0hLwMMxGQl3oG82jrHeT_9hIyez06_A3qqSGCnualmKcycEpspeZwHr2u02BxMs/s400/CIMG3176.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gather hail. Rinse. Dump into chilled glass. Pour vodka or gin in desired amount.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWx1p-fWyMtUxuOfwYu3DBbBVU_Zg2bsDxbKSOR_OWSjuy7T-nFGws29amWr11mAYxU0tmKErSOjYRXSOYO9b7B1lKV-B_UQSNcQZmW9RYp4m34CWxvLVTyj-I0YLOYdyvTIhuAyhj0Ww/s1600/CIMG3177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWx1p-fWyMtUxuOfwYu3DBbBVU_Zg2bsDxbKSOR_OWSjuy7T-nFGws29amWr11mAYxU0tmKErSOjYRXSOYO9b7B1lKV-B_UQSNcQZmW9RYp4m34CWxvLVTyj-I0YLOYdyvTIhuAyhj0Ww/s400/CIMG3177.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add vermouth, or not.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3F2R2oyKjn23CJOVX3Nh-JCctH07tktCLfpm-md-IoSeC_V-ZDEucvp2pE6B8KB_IyasCaIZ3n48jw6dsyj-usyyIRmOaJkfYeg-n7Fu7MQk8FXve1ityr__iBZa_m6SnU4j7vt3L8DE/s1600/CIMG3183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3F2R2oyKjn23CJOVX3Nh-JCctH07tktCLfpm-md-IoSeC_V-ZDEucvp2pE6B8KB_IyasCaIZ3n48jw6dsyj-usyyIRmOaJkfYeg-n7Fu7MQk8FXve1ityr__iBZa_m6SnU4j7vt3L8DE/s400/CIMG3183.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add preferred garnish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
CHEERS! Because now you're fortified to cope with the shock of finding all those hail dents on your car's hood as well as the damage to your roof.Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-14002637014516168792012-03-22T22:55:00.000-05:002012-03-22T22:55:53.940-05:00Smallville Town Talk: The Roller Mill...Our place, which we've named Le Rustique, is situated between the two small towns of Owensville and Rosebud, about three miles from the first and about five miles from the latter. The whole area, which I fondly call <b>Smallville</b>, has a combined population of 3000 to 3500. In other words, just right.<br />
<br />
Most folks around here are friendly as can be<b> [</b>someday I may tell you about the two I've met who are not<b>]</b> and very hard workers. Many of the locally-owned businesses are run by people who either also farm or have another job - or both. The Owensville Roller Mill is one such place.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizf-sr95OTXLaOR1QCmcfH51khBTgEBl_qzRo5F3CPJRRg6kZUjA0oAXr-EqbWg1xvsyO3b9ACXRhSy_wuYAb5lO4sDxITWGDeAUeMciIVeILwiUFLS4nIULcZsAZBJameXGr0IfcpW4k/s1600/RollerMillFacebookLineDrawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizf-sr95OTXLaOR1QCmcfH51khBTgEBl_qzRo5F3CPJRRg6kZUjA0oAXr-EqbWg1xvsyO3b9ACXRhSy_wuYAb5lO4sDxITWGDeAUeMciIVeILwiUFLS4nIULcZsAZBJameXGr0IfcpW4k/s400/RollerMillFacebookLineDrawing.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A line drawing from the perspective of the back parking lot, the entrance most used by locals.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Built by two brothers in 1897 and using a steam engine to power the milling process, the state-of-the-art German technology allowed the flour and grain mill to operate quite a distance from the usually requisite stream or river. The mill has stayed in the same family for years, even surviving the Great Depression. The owners patented their own brand of Good Goods Flour, and one of the surviving original flour sacks hangs on the wall inside. One of the old mills stands as permanent greeter at the front door.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31GrvVGPWRUFFIELaWks1GRRrqxNO-6PJrJ21IokUzIEgWbYweRl4Kwj_inNtM-_4-hcfWkknau-hAsCmYGPObSdJBNS38HAiNVQNJ7vljzP4wdofEW41sraSbKl4GwLhawwdxbuJBrA/s1600/DSCF5526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31GrvVGPWRUFFIELaWks1GRRrqxNO-6PJrJ21IokUzIEgWbYweRl4Kwj_inNtM-_4-hcfWkknau-hAsCmYGPObSdJBNS38HAiNVQNJ7vljzP4wdofEW41sraSbKl4GwLhawwdxbuJBrA/s400/DSCF5526.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old roller mill, retired from active duty, but still front-and-center.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'm not certain when the roller mill ceased regular activity, but the building is still owned by a direct descendant of the original founders who now operates it as a very popular family restaurant. The scale that used to weigh out grain and flour is still in the same spot in the main room, and nearly everybody raised around these parts has weighed themselves on that scale, whether as a kid to document their growth spurts or as an adult to see if they'd put on a few pounds.<br />
<br />
Mike, the owner, has plenty of support and assistance running the restaurant from his entire family. The night we first ate there, the eldest of his six children, his daughter MissA, was our highly capable waitress. The place was busy - very busy - but little MissA wasn't the least bit rattled.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtWdrPP7wbnQJmaNt63-vh4ez2ZXJ-y-Yw7EH0AJx_3JpE9MoXutk6H6UIuRqV-6kW1n9VET4PvXfsWjjNiUuaMCE5xC0IKjzB98AULdReeiDGtKrM3uIzPWShYKMQbtPH8mR8WEiMHw/s1600/DSCF5523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtWdrPP7wbnQJmaNt63-vh4ez2ZXJ-y-Yw7EH0AJx_3JpE9MoXutk6H6UIuRqV-6kW1n9VET4PvXfsWjjNiUuaMCE5xC0IKjzB98AULdReeiDGtKrM3uIzPWShYKMQbtPH8mR8WEiMHw/s400/DSCF5523.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MissA standing on the original scale installed by her ancestors.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>She showed us to our table and explained every menu item on the big chalkboard hanging on the wall with barely a glance at it. She also pointed out all the family members helping that night. Her grandmother was tending bar, greeting new arrivals and quietly at the ready to help her granddaughter if called upon. Her grandfather was helping to wash dishes just to keep up with the big crowd. Her dad was a little bit everywhere, helping where needed and keeping his watchful eye on the well-being of the four of his children who were there that night. MissA's two younger sisters were double-teaming the entertainment for one large table of regulars with plenty of raucous laughter coming from that direction, and their little brother was acting as self-appointed game director at the basketball hoop set up just for kids.<br />
<br />
Big Daddy and I both had the NY strip steak special, and I gotta tell ya, that's the tastiest and most tender steak I've had this side of the Rocky Mountains. But even more special than the steak was the concept that, in 2012, a man and his parents and his young kids can have so much fun working side by side in a demanding service business, make it successful, and still go back to their day jobs or schools the next day, smiling all the while.<br />
<br />
And, as we're finding is often the case in Smallville, there is a connection between the Owensville Roller Mill and Le Rustique. Mike's ancestors who established and operated the Roller Mill for all those generations were the same ancestors of the man who built our farm house and from whose children we bought Le Rustique. So Smallville means more than just our little piece of rural America, to me it proves it's a small world out there, too.<br />
<br />
If you're ever on Highways 19, 28 or even this section of 50 on a Tuesday through Saturday, take a side trip to the Owensville Roller Mill. Tell them you want to weigh yourself - before you eat!<br />
<br />
Linking up with <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/03/rural-thursday-blog-hop-7.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank">Rural Thursday</a> Blog Hop.<br />
Be sure to check out some of the blogs posted there.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/03/rural-thursday-blog-hop-7.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank"><img alt="Rural Thursday Blog Hop" height="200" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6767202883_a67c982368_o.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-78699477916362159822012-03-20T00:17:00.001-05:002012-04-09T22:04:15.171-05:00Barn Charm: I'll Huff, And I'll Puff......And I'll blow your barn down.<br />
<br />
Not long after we acquired Le Rustique two years ago, we discovered these standing ruins of an old homestead on the country road that runs south of our road. I took a bunch of pictures of the buildings, because I was sure they would topple over momentarily.<b><span style="font-size: x-small;"> [Side Note: Only about a mile away as the crow flies, this terrain is nothing like the terrain of our property. I guess that's the nature of the Ozark Plateau.]</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTyjZ4xL9ZkQBu8K0Vd6Mc4sFtXVW3ueL881ppv9DSiqay01SRQD4abEthwHFikILKVNJLC7zO9Y6tFS65RvlvFVxjMC8npuzWxNonodS67p_Nj39CbgrnkXcin6SMdR7d2OzMem0X1s/s1600/CIMG1307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTyjZ4xL9ZkQBu8K0Vd6Mc4sFtXVW3ueL881ppv9DSiqay01SRQD4abEthwHFikILKVNJLC7zO9Y6tFS65RvlvFVxjMC8npuzWxNonodS67p_Nj39CbgrnkXcin6SMdR7d2OzMem0X1s/s400/CIMG1307.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An old homestead. The land is brushed and fenced, but there appears <br />
to be no other activity anywhere near it.</td></tr>
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I love the old barn, but it definitely looks precarious.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6o6BujZjFji6v0T2EdbNXbB6N5BQAitJgHazfpy2iSpbuw3Vhn8T6S32Gx6kKN4zLmVXZFgJVM0NmOxvXA4ghyphenhyphenLWHZx9nKNRYyX40PREQDYzS7t0aY73niD3gnDD7K_sXM5gKEClN0w/s1600/CIMG1312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6o6BujZjFji6v0T2EdbNXbB6N5BQAitJgHazfpy2iSpbuw3Vhn8T6S32Gx6kKN4zLmVXZFgJVM0NmOxvXA4ghyphenhyphenLWHZx9nKNRYyX40PREQDYzS7t0aY73niD3gnDD7K_sXM5gKEClN0w/s400/CIMG1312.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think it's square on its rock foundation, but the main structure is a little askew.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBHXzTwzGXNO_8sn9yHprd1Obj8P5MeHai-U8Sk2lsTqstaptlsJeCe0ZwES-zmAX9zUu_G-0OAsE4CWTmnvKVNjqsloLEJSUbJbOID6SIBjDoViT6i2EPxWjOe-egqA4TAFQ1_Y02UkM/s1600/CIMG1315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBHXzTwzGXNO_8sn9yHprd1Obj8P5MeHai-U8Sk2lsTqstaptlsJeCe0ZwES-zmAX9zUu_G-0OAsE4CWTmnvKVNjqsloLEJSUbJbOID6SIBjDoViT6i2EPxWjOe-egqA4TAFQ1_Y02UkM/s400/CIMG1315.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the old tin roof looks like it was hit by a meteorite, but I guess it just collapsed <br />
as its underpinnings lost the battle to neglect.</td></tr>
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Last year we experienced some very windy days, a couple of tornado warnings and a night of straight-line winds in excess of 100 mph. In spite of all that huffing and puffing, though, the three structures continued to stand. All my photos following those storms look exactly like these.<br />
<br />
Off and on this month the March winds have lived up to their bad-ass hype, though, and the inevitable finally happened.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeVKJyUvbDTXDfbs8PahCk_mvRADqh17aBUN9K0zuGeeNUzFhSK3Oq_JpkTY3EMsOKUPFff1KMtKwezO9hL4Yyx0IKiomHYHWg_J8q6KU8lrCxiObFhn-es7kQ6HY-8yQ_KR6fh2CZmg/s1600/DSCF6164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeVKJyUvbDTXDfbs8PahCk_mvRADqh17aBUN9K0zuGeeNUzFhSK3Oq_JpkTY3EMsOKUPFff1KMtKwezO9hL4Yyx0IKiomHYHWg_J8q6KU8lrCxiObFhn-es7kQ6HY-8yQ_KR6fh2CZmg/s400/DSCF6164.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old barn stands no more.</td></tr>
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It appears that someone has cleared away the tin siding and roof sections, leaving the stone piers and decaying wood to attest that a barn used to live there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhagIvYKu7w_QOlJZ3hNW1m0-x6pb92eEtNWYx_zhvTQ1e_qX12MXCldgveKIDKEI2GBGs94Wtin1BWYuis7qhUdk2ztNvUD1_WEFsbXV2dtUa2HfqVs1F4vlCyvqgc9UME1ifYjlWTi08/s1600/DSCF6176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhagIvYKu7w_QOlJZ3hNW1m0-x6pb92eEtNWYx_zhvTQ1e_qX12MXCldgveKIDKEI2GBGs94Wtin1BWYuis7qhUdk2ztNvUD1_WEFsbXV2dtUa2HfqVs1F4vlCyvqgc9UME1ifYjlWTi08/s400/DSCF6176.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Missouri loses another barn and a bit of its heritage.</td></tr>
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We've been told that this old homestead belonged to the maternal ancestors of the family from whom we bought Le Rustique. That's probably true, because the old dirt road that passes by this land carries their name. I can only wonder how many wind storms it will take to demolish the old house, and eventually the shed.<br />
<br />
Linking up with<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="background-color: white; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="font-family: 'Dancing Script'; font-size: 36px;"><a href="http://bluffareadaily.blogspot.com/2012/03/barn-charm-77.html" target="_blank">Barn Charm ♥77♥</a> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">over at Bluff Area Daily</span></h3>
<div>
Be sure to check out some of the plethora of barns there, many of which are presented by "real" photographers, as opposed to my point-and-shoot method.</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-54380599047205979312012-03-19T16:02:00.000-05:002012-03-19T16:02:19.488-05:00Spring Fever Is Not Just For Humans...We have a whole bunch of bricks left over from our city courtyard project, and whenever we have the time or space to transport some to Le Rustique, we haul them out. The idea is to eventually use them to build an outdoor fireplace/grill in the back yard.<br />
<br />
Until then, they're just stacked up along the south side of the house collecting heat. Which is apparently just fine with that particular species that needs heat the most when spring fever arrives.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwl_y_u1dyQtVS7eY5-BdqM5cz8Ulg9NKNK-cWUsV298OUniivdxxJuD5ZgW6ghfYnkjyM9wP-ab0lSBsIHTUpuPUMwNT7ojMhCxyzK5QWIO3sv2sI5DJ4GXbH4ZcLyeAsJt2e1yXE8_M/s1600/DSCF6152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwl_y_u1dyQtVS7eY5-BdqM5cz8Ulg9NKNK-cWUsV298OUniivdxxJuD5ZgW6ghfYnkjyM9wP-ab0lSBsIHTUpuPUMwNT7ojMhCxyzK5QWIO3sv2sI5DJ4GXbH4ZcLyeAsJt2e1yXE8_M/s640/DSCF6152.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little guy figured the stack of bricks was put there just for him. Can you believe he <br />
waited for me to run back into the house for my camera?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>He looks like a ribbon garter snake, except that his belly is cream-colored instead of green. I think his striping is just a little different than an eastern garter, too, but he's definitely some type of garter snake.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2jYVstk2C7D93C5ZhRjAcx-Ea8RpmbhePpRb17sqeFvZYLfUKylVs68T3UwWM7z6uQQGJK8YoEWSHwXGBUugrumZ2o_ousi_-HM5jGDboVYlJQq7_vd_a8SqbOofnQejQASLSP82zqo/s1600/DSCF6146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2jYVstk2C7D93C5ZhRjAcx-Ea8RpmbhePpRb17sqeFvZYLfUKylVs68T3UwWM7z6uQQGJK8YoEWSHwXGBUugrumZ2o_ousi_-HM5jGDboVYlJQq7_vd_a8SqbOofnQejQASLSP82zqo/s640/DSCF6146.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember when garden hoses were striped like this? I'm glad they're mostly bright green now.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwTBg5ZkaGTLvlUdOKWLr-nljr2JqmsefvPc5_Uh77ksXhm-xX1UwNQ7xdWSVvAAXHzJTwiA-gbfLalExOG4SOaAilcjfcLf3g1fB32WgSLEqo3K5GBJ5gjld-S5I9tg0VZBO7JN0p8QE/s1600/DSCF6150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwTBg5ZkaGTLvlUdOKWLr-nljr2JqmsefvPc5_Uh77ksXhm-xX1UwNQ7xdWSVvAAXHzJTwiA-gbfLalExOG4SOaAilcjfcLf3g1fB32WgSLEqo3K5GBJ5gjld-S5I9tg0VZBO7JN0p8QE/s640/DSCF6150.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the best picture, but you can see that he's much longer than I originally thought. <br />
His tail drifts off under the first course of bricks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>There has been a small hawk hanging around the back yard for the past couple days, so this little snake better watch out or he'll be a spring fever snack for a very fast bird. I'm also being cautious when I let out my pure white, three-pound Maltese for her potty breaks so she doesn't get mistaken for a rabbit.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-70799401052574874612012-03-14T15:36:00.000-05:002012-03-14T15:36:12.810-05:00A Walk In The Woods: Pine Cones...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jHKQ_oaiRX0/T2D-fZHpPKI/AAAAAAAAAR0/LV-xO2WgkN0/s1600/Spring_CorrectRotation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jHKQ_oaiRX0/T2D-fZHpPKI/AAAAAAAAAR0/LV-xO2WgkN0/s400/Spring_CorrectRotation.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It's spring. Or at least the weather is acting like it's already spring. So no one should be excited about pine cones at this time of year, right? Except for me, of course.<br />
<br />
When we bought Le Rustique nearly two years ago, the property had been unoccupied for over five years. The adult children of the original owners had moved away years before, scattering in different directions to earn their livings and establish their own families. Then after the passing of both parents, they hung on to the property they inherited, paying someone to maintain the house and it's surrounding yard, and visiting whenever they could. They walked the wooded acreage they all loved, but with so little time and so much distance, they eventually lost the battle in the forest to the local invaders: red cedar, honeysuckle and floribunda.<br />
<br />
<b>[Coming soon: a preview of our attempts to rid that forest of these invaders.]</b><br />
<br />
But back to the pine cones.<br />
<br />
There are supposedly around a hundred species of trees in our forest, and we've identified quite a few of them, but we've never found any pine trees. The children of the previous owners told us at closing that they had recently located two pine trees one of them had planted from seedlings as a Boy Scout project - and they are now about forty feet high.<br />
<br />
Since I like to decorate with pine boughs and pine cone wreaths for the holidays, I've been on the lookout for those two trees, always wondering, "Is it possible the invasive cedars have already choked them out?" Well, luckily the answer is, "No!"<br />
<br />
While Big Daddy and I were walking in the woods, we decided to follow our fence line as it bisects the creek in a thicket behind our pasture. There, on a little chunk of land that is kind of like an island of privacy, we found the two pine trees - still holding on to their pine cones this late in the season, as if waiting for me to get my act together. And since I didn't have my camera on that particular walk, you'll have to trust me that these came from those two trees.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6XicWbG1Dlu3w4iRZ8ShmZp_4Ofvhg_DV8Lp3x1b5fNlWLFXzbu2qKtZojE9Sf0seFaXzpNOErz8Wu_yFM_OYHm_JQ7-T8dEdPBT7cg8L2BDaSqJW-AQQ8ZhwV0IGqNrdtLJt_uKFkA/s1600/DSCF5540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6XicWbG1Dlu3w4iRZ8ShmZp_4Ofvhg_DV8Lp3x1b5fNlWLFXzbu2qKtZojE9Sf0seFaXzpNOErz8Wu_yFM_OYHm_JQ7-T8dEdPBT7cg8L2BDaSqJW-AQQ8ZhwV0IGqNrdtLJt_uKFkA/s400/DSCF5540.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pine cones still clinging to their branches in spring.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And since it's too spring-like for hanging a pine cone wreath, this is what I decided to do with them. Pardon the photo quality - I've never figured out how to properly shoot glass, especially indoors.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnIVpk-LjZTvPDj6mLRTggzpFblYFQdCyBiJ-dO65Pa1t6FpMIhUQiGgBHTQRf7vwBH57T2DLk20g5UyrWoBG82s5a_EXC6T2NNYK1xlGyRNPDduiCaeK0ypjF6ROrq4DJUW62givCkI/s1600/DSCF5983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnIVpk-LjZTvPDj6mLRTggzpFblYFQdCyBiJ-dO65Pa1t6FpMIhUQiGgBHTQRf7vwBH57T2DLk20g5UyrWoBG82s5a_EXC6T2NNYK1xlGyRNPDduiCaeK0ypjF6ROrq4DJUW62givCkI/s640/DSCF5983.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cowboy roper is an art piece made of horseshoe nails by the late John Kuchera of<br />
Sheridan, Wyoming. The three bird nests were all found abandoned and on the ground at <br />
LeRustique - one had even been blown onto the doorstep during a terrific wind storm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This project was inspired by <a href="http://hopestudios.blogspot.com/2008/10/birds-nest-home-decor.html" target="_blank">Hope Studios</a> as originally linked by Yvonne at <a href="http://inkspillersattic.blogspot.com/2012/02/birds-nests.html" target="_blank">Ink Spillers Attic</a>. Isn't the blog-o-sphere just perfect?Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-51581973824433345472012-02-23T17:05:00.000-06:002012-02-23T17:05:15.972-06:00Miss Elizabeth Is 91 Today...Miss Elizabeth, our friend and the<i> grande dame</i> of our city block, is 91 today. Originally from Oklahoma, she took a circuitous route to St. Louis, and her stories about her life are always interesting. She's still active in her church, involved in her charities and clubs, and thriving in her oversized Victorian home. Her large flower garden often contributes new starts for mine at Le Rustique.<br />
<br />
Yesterday Big Daddy and I took her to lunch on The Hill - noted for the best Italian markets and restaurants west of the Mississippi, as well as being the childhood home of baseball stars Joe Garagiola and Yogi Berra.<br />
<br />
Since Big Daddy and I are listening to Timothy Egan's audio book <span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-left;"><span class="GoldBldText" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.nationalbook.org/nba2006_nf_egan.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange;">The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl</span></a><span style="color: #cc9900;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="GoldBldText">and since Miss Elizabeth lived through it in Oklahoma, we asked her to tell us a little about growing up then. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="GoldBldText"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<span class="GoldBldText" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; text-align: -webkit-left;">As you can see from the picture, we laughed some in spite of the rough life she had then and the harshness of the times she was talking about. I think she had just remembered the time she failed to kill the chicken for Sunday dinner, because she just couldn't get the hang o</span><span class="GoldBldText" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; text-align: -webkit-left;">f it.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFXjwaqJC9jdqf3-enxk7fqlneojwJ9uxw_EjKxRTsueUgOPcTFWCmI6ii6aO1rZjdJHpSnlhu4uCNaGQzRu55u5XQs-_fVHfM0XudcvV7kFMKDuA2q9DFGYZVrgJuERK2SP1C4gi24M/s1600/DSCF5455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFXjwaqJC9jdqf3-enxk7fqlneojwJ9uxw_EjKxRTsueUgOPcTFWCmI6ii6aO1rZjdJHpSnlhu4uCNaGQzRu55u5XQs-_fVHfM0XudcvV7kFMKDuA2q9DFGYZVrgJuERK2SP1C4gi24M/s640/DSCF5455.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still laughing after all these years.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><span style="font-size: large;">Miss Elizabeth, Here's to many more years of listening to your stories about rural living at a different time. We love having you in our lives. Happy Birthday!!</span> <span style="font-size: 14px;"></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Linking up with <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/02/rural-thursday-blog-hop-4.html" target="_blank">Rural Thursday</a> </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Check out some of the others blogging about the rural life.</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/02/rural-thursday-blog-hop-4.html" target="_blank"><img alt="Rural Thursday Blog Hop" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6767202883_a67c982368_o.jpg" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-8232723940246710452012-02-20T23:35:00.000-06:002012-02-20T23:35:38.934-06:00A Walk In The Park: Early Bloomers...When we're not walking in the woods at Le Rustique, we live on a typical city lot with just a postage stamp for a backyard. Years ago we converted what little grass we had back there into an all-brick courtyard reminiscent of the French Quarter in New Orleans. (That project is a story in itself, and maybe someday I can share it with you here.)<br />
<br />
When we crave a little more terra than firma, we head to historic <a href="http://www.towergrovepark.org/" target="_blank">Tower Grove Park</a> - this country's most beautiful wooded Victorian walking park, just a block away from our city house<br />
<br />
Just like most places this winter, the weather has been unseasonably mild in St. Louis. My magnolia tree in our back yard is in full bud, but some of the magnolia trees in Tower Grove Park are even farther along - way too early.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkCBk3tODl4Qv7i1N49wjtxznEE9NkS0uAWOE8vlI43BpE6mmFJmV8K5DGIjT8Ddvrq5jtAEe8oxfCP0SvPFLMwqnbWnRXbGpa9qGluLvwUSYU4QNlLhgSY2jxvrLr65HS9XTbZ4lv7tw/s1600/CIMG2630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkCBk3tODl4Qv7i1N49wjtxznEE9NkS0uAWOE8vlI43BpE6mmFJmV8K5DGIjT8Ddvrq5jtAEe8oxfCP0SvPFLMwqnbWnRXbGpa9qGluLvwUSYU4QNlLhgSY2jxvrLr65HS9XTbZ4lv7tw/s400/CIMG2630.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Though this was taken early last spring, this same tree is already showing its colors - way too early for this <br />
part of the country. It will surely get nipped and deprive us of a full season of beautiful big flowers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chances are pretty good that we'll have another frost, and maybe even a hard freeze. If that happens, I sure hope these early bloomers can regroup and become late bloomers for a showy encore.Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-87389030409911572292012-02-18T14:33:00.001-06:002012-02-20T16:46:44.824-06:00A Walk In The Woods: Mozarkite...Some people drag home stray animals. I don't have to do that, because they always seem to find us. Instead, I'm always dragging home stray rocks - even the ones Big Daddy calls leverites, which in case you missed it here before are rocks about which he says, "leave 'er right there." After washing off the dirt and grime, I usually toss them into the front garden or into one of several baskets of rocks worked into the "decor" (term used very loosely)...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ4idsK2yaImCQfAcrszNnz7T87IxFpUoyI5OjLSMKNxXVflcQHzgvLYZ6kygxmOX7yThBU6jNqcTVjxk8ZriPyA5vZvlWXaHDPUX9Mvw30ELyH8nQRaQmdovPiNM9XKFoffdH-bNY-I/s1600/DSCF4852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ4idsK2yaImCQfAcrszNnz7T87IxFpUoyI5OjLSMKNxXVflcQHzgvLYZ6kygxmOX7yThBU6jNqcTVjxk8ZriPyA5vZvlWXaHDPUX9Mvw30ELyH8nQRaQmdovPiNM9XKFoffdH-bNY-I/s400/DSCF4852.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the smaller baskets of rocks lying around the house - already much fuller than when this was taken.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Or they get <strike>crammed</strike> carefully and thoughtfully added ;-) to the built-in shelves at Le Rustique where the previous owners displayed precious fragile antique heirlooms...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uEAsE74KOxUXk7zGjaxxR3VypyNPrA8nuNJnYix5ZANSECVlsfcQI12qv7o9_nbvBmKSxDyhwV8SzhG_O-FF8LfuU6Pc_YNAQRA1P6PvXBVuZV_Ibx_vJJi-Q1Xtog2ZR_QTPRMvKHw/s1600/DSCF4849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uEAsE74KOxUXk7zGjaxxR3VypyNPrA8nuNJnYix5ZANSECVlsfcQI12qv7o9_nbvBmKSxDyhwV8SzhG_O-FF8LfuU6Pc_YNAQRA1P6PvXBVuZV_Ibx_vJJi-Q1Xtog2ZR_QTPRMvKHw/s400/DSCF4849.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Built-in shelves at Le Rustique (glass doors permanently removed) - also already much fuller than when <br />
this was taken. I know, I really need to paint the old wood panel in the back, but there's always <br />
something else higher on the priority list.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>On our last walk in the woods, Big Daddy found the rock on the right and gave it to me to bring back. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it wasn't a leverite. After a little poking around the web, I think it (and the other two in the picture found on previous walks) are mozarkite.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9AU4NfO7hD1NUHsbXfxuSBmB-kCGuqaAGcMk0uC_nQJ1zXaWCY70Ipftl0WWmOoPJ2xRA3SUkWe7QGqlh9HTnIFcoRRFI9VIQZ8h4oZvhAtWe3L1dVuXhbzWhs22MLvhn8ItAVq2_Co/s1600/DSCF5445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9AU4NfO7hD1NUHsbXfxuSBmB-kCGuqaAGcMk0uC_nQJ1zXaWCY70Ipftl0WWmOoPJ2xRA3SUkWe7QGqlh9HTnIFcoRRFI9VIQZ8h4oZvhAtWe3L1dVuXhbzWhs22MLvhn8ItAVq2_Co/s400/DSCF5445.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm no geologist, but I think all three of these are mozarkite. I wish the big one weren't cracked, as I'm <br />
afraid it won't hold together forever. And I have no idea why the one is so polished already.<b><br />
</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Aside:</b> I've just finished staining the new wood window and sill (which you can see in the photo above) in the kitchen, and I'm ready to seal it. One smaller window down, ten bigger ones to go. Who knew wood windows come with unfinished interiors - presumably so you can choose whether to paint or stain? Just one more thing on my to-do list. I'll report back in about a year.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>If you're a rock hound, you probably know more than I do about these rocks. I'm open to hearing whatever you have to add. Following are the primary sites I used to make my guess.</div><div><br />
</div><div><a href="http://www.ruralmissouri.org/09pages/09JanMozarkite.html" target="_blank">An interesting article on MO's rock</a> ...</div><div><br />
</div><div><a href="http://thegemshop.com/osc/product_info.php?products_id=2807&osCsid=fgdqdjsnqmhmvvcv" target="_blank">The first image of a pile of rocks looks like many at Le Rustique</a> ...</div><div><br />
</div><div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mozarkite.jpg" target="_blank">An image of mozarkite in a similar color configuration</a> ...</div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-87473129486532743222012-02-16T13:24:00.001-06:002012-02-20T16:59:24.350-06:00The Rural Toy Store...<b>THE SETUP:</b><br />
Normally in early February we spend a week to ten days in Key West. By that time, we're weary of the drudgery of winter, the gray days and lack of color, and we're more than ready for sun, sand and ocean waves. Here are a few shots of what it was like last year.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzRF78h5_B62STQEeX8tSYsvZbpd7yoJPntwhf1mWUcuN_k1ZG0Rf9y3SBV8oBjyIA-DsCo2P4FTRpyttsKnE0IiMHahBsNbno-nVfXI_K8eiDI1P4KjAszzemNdl0Q-QT2bbFO6hum18/s1600/CIMG2093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzRF78h5_B62STQEeX8tSYsvZbpd7yoJPntwhf1mWUcuN_k1ZG0Rf9y3SBV8oBjyIA-DsCo2P4FTRpyttsKnE0IiMHahBsNbno-nVfXI_K8eiDI1P4KjAszzemNdl0Q-QT2bbFO6hum18/s400/CIMG2093.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mornings can be a little chilly, but the flora is still tropical.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBL3DepRgKv-LiWf1geTfsWxqYu8EjZL2CLKOJpUDaSI8PRMIdoFBnwIqakUuGEsdViizvzP6NksVhckhDci8hvTtOnRwAwuSMF72o9l9xQA3r7dRkMfuPC20a8ku_h9ZFRd_XT9T8CpA/s1600/CIMG2090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBL3DepRgKv-LiWf1geTfsWxqYu8EjZL2CLKOJpUDaSI8PRMIdoFBnwIqakUuGEsdViizvzP6NksVhckhDci8hvTtOnRwAwuSMF72o9l9xQA3r7dRkMfuPC20a8ku_h9ZFRd_XT9T8CpA/s400/CIMG2090.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everywhere you look you find something, often exotic, in bloom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVi1rjjwNOn35-HyYDDd7OY4y_dO4AOxIIvnpWvBBsuG6WZjU8G2zvoBtbvmBFVCtV08ILDgEYKgJAfzNO7NSm5VxDDi2oa9io95eByM62cY1Hvw9A4c5SkQv_-A7LkNDHlYIKYs7cac/s1600/CIMG2092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVi1rjjwNOn35-HyYDDd7OY4y_dO4AOxIIvnpWvBBsuG6WZjU8G2zvoBtbvmBFVCtV08ILDgEYKgJAfzNO7NSm5VxDDi2oa9io95eByM62cY1Hvw9A4c5SkQv_-A7LkNDHlYIKYs7cac/s400/CIMG2092.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every morning we start our day with a bicycle ride around the island, choosing a new place for <br />
breakfast each time, then head to the beach for the rest of the day. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBcEUDYzTulywtryiCMy9py65XiNUELx0v9RjAjb1sZ7fVvO9VSeSVop0M-rJXjul5EwRgPIejH4VOAINlpTTQTBwUuTM4_sBZNKcoN3krXJU-2it2UJzR8GHtf3xTfN0G0UzZ-9Fqzk/s1600/CIMG2122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBcEUDYzTulywtryiCMy9py65XiNUELx0v9RjAjb1sZ7fVvO9VSeSVop0M-rJXjul5EwRgPIejH4VOAINlpTTQTBwUuTM4_sBZNKcoN3krXJU-2it2UJzR8GHtf3xTfN0G0UzZ-9Fqzk/s400/CIMG2122.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once Big Daddy returns from another bike ride to our favorite Cuban restaurant to pick up grouper sandwiches for <br />
our lunch, the wildlife gathers on the beach to wait patiently for the bread pieces we toss them.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>NOW THE REST OF THE STORY:</b><br />
This year we decided to forego Key West and take a "stay-cation" at Le Rustique. There were a whole lot of reasons it made sense:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Our winter has been mild and not as miserably cold as usual. </li>
<li>We've had more sunny days than normal for this time of year, and we planned to sit on the deck and get a Rocky Mountain tan. (In case you're wondering, I made up that term when I lived in Colorado and Wyoming. It's where you put on your bathing suit and warm boots, recline in the sun on a lounge chair and cover yourself with a couple down comforters. Then you peel back the comforters as the heat of the sun allows. When you get too cold, you cover up again until you're warm, and you repeat the process. It works better in the Rockies, because you're at least a mile closer to the sun and the air is dry. But hey, we're game.)</li>
<li>We added insulated siding to the farm house, replaced an old wood stove, added energy-efficient wood windows throughout - and it seemed like a good time to test how much cozier those things would make the old house.</li>
<li>And most importantly, it would give us a chance to see how we'll manage living there together full-time.</li>
</ul><div><b><br />
</b></div><div><b>Well, you know what they say about best-laid plans.</b> </div><div><br />
</div><div>While all those vacationers in Key West were enjoying beautiful warm days and calm waters, mid-Missouri was getting rain, snow, and more rain. I gotta tell ya, the weather was miserable, but we had no trouble co-existing or finding ways to stay entertained. </div><div><br />
</div><div>And how do you keep a man entertained? No, you're wrong. I'm talking about a man our age. You take him to as many<b> toy stores</b> as you can. We started out at this one.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHp-fOgAxFvI69PSBpb-Gn9vFKTlp_bVaDy5pmyLbLMiW__P5rIy563yt6kh7LOqD1birXFxNNIC8wjhXSCWQmH73bVNpEcSlmAyv1ITKevCQi5xlsiWhXz_CSZdaaR1eEymeaQAoyos/s1600/DSCF5432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHp-fOgAxFvI69PSBpb-Gn9vFKTlp_bVaDy5pmyLbLMiW__P5rIy563yt6kh7LOqD1birXFxNNIC8wjhXSCWQmH73bVNpEcSlmAyv1ITKevCQi5xlsiWhXz_CSZdaaR1eEymeaQAoyos/s400/DSCF5432.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't tell it's raining, but I assure you I'm using my backside to dry off this seat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimJjE4tjL3W_b9SsHzJTYwYFs5bSabvI7qtwTTFVqjICT6xA7F-PSHJw5bGIKpLpOnLKQBsh1B0ACEbA9EX7bMR9frwfrPCoGdTeU9jbCGVVrCgbxb0K0eZiw8VtrGu4zxOems_3ntvQ/s1600/DSCF5433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimJjE4tjL3W_b9SsHzJTYwYFs5bSabvI7qtwTTFVqjICT6xA7F-PSHJw5bGIKpLpOnLKQBsh1B0ACEbA9EX7bMR9frwfrPCoGdTeU9jbCGVVrCgbxb0K0eZiw8VtrGu4zxOems_3ntvQ/s400/DSCF5433.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Daddy opts to forego the seat I dried off in order to try out the fit of a bigger one. Naturally.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>From here we were off to the Kubota store, because we're not just kicking tires. We're in the market for a tractor so we can get more jobs done at Le Rustique. We decided to skip the John Deere store once we found out that you pay a considerable premium for all that pretty green paint.</div><div><br />
</div><div>We've been hiring local experts to do our brush hogging, food plot planting and mowing, but they have full-time jobs or their own farm obligations before they can come help us out. If we have our own tractor, we can get most of our chores done in a timely manner as weather permits. And we can still hire the experts for the bigger jobs. This video shows our go-to guy for the big jobs the first time he came to help us expand the size of our back yard. He's got the big-boy toy and is a green-paint guy all the way.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzr74sJ_uKhq4EyVTUyy0L8INbLwSFC4KKENaVoOukbTWaSmYEJ57wlYCHJ0OpumOXJiwfTEC4yf3TKv4OS3A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><br />
</div><div>Do you have a favorite brand of tractor? Do you want to give us any advice? We're listening!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><br />
</div><div>Linking up with <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/02/rural-thursday-blog-hop-3-parmesan.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank">Rural Thursday</a>. </div><div>Be sure to check out some of the other blogs listed there at the end of the post.</div><div><a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/02/rural-thursday-blog-hop-3-parmesan.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2FHloo+%28A+Rural+Journal%29" target="_blank"><img alt="Rural Thursday Blog Hop" height="200" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6767202883_a67c982368_o.jpg" width="200" /></a> </div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9133492074489397406.post-11271235622862443602012-02-09T17:31:00.001-06:002012-02-20T16:58:57.231-06:00Barn Scrapping...We've been wanting to clean out the old homestead barn at Le Rustique since we bought the place nearly two years ago. And when better to get started than on a cold, damp winter day with the ground too wet to do much else? And today is that day.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg41cVQMsgyqUvJqiT5GkPPXE1hvpLRQAxZwpB0fte_jetQb_8T0LIRD2cHxkyNSPyp2kKP5WfVFPEn2azhwNUNrWrleDTelFaV04QICVd93hhGRBcqCXJ_2cTm7709lmaMlfhA46vfhw4/s1600/DSCF5406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg41cVQMsgyqUvJqiT5GkPPXE1hvpLRQAxZwpB0fte_jetQb_8T0LIRD2cHxkyNSPyp2kKP5WfVFPEn2azhwNUNrWrleDTelFaV04QICVd93hhGRBcqCXJ_2cTm7709lmaMlfhA46vfhw4/s400/DSCF5406.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scrappers only brought a pickup truck, but they got the job done.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We were a little surprised to see the scrappers show up in a pickup truck, because we had told them ahead of time the volume of stuff we expected to get out of the old barn. But they know their business, and a pickup is more efficient for the way they work. They are an older husband & wife team who have been doing this for thirty years. He's got a hurt back, unable to lift a lot, but she's got the energy of a teenager - and they brought their young neighbor along to help them.<br />
<br />
The previous owner of our property used to raise feeder calves, and he had installed what seemed like miles and miles of 5-strand barbed wire cross fencing, some with added sheep fence for good measure, throughout the woods. Big Daddy spent a good deal of the last two years taking it down. Here is just some of what he has to show for his efforts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyB_XmhaVyovK7gDnDgT-bbt5aoU_Uorui5mO2bqdgfAqAIH24BcmWJKs88pNjoXNjA5TWYMhuiNG9rrYmKAXSf5UbdKkaAEJapkaVYus8PVDojzTWQGHEvYbTIsKWl4YXbFZBqT9xEmU/s1600/DSCF5372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyB_XmhaVyovK7gDnDgT-bbt5aoU_Uorui5mO2bqdgfAqAIH24BcmWJKs88pNjoXNjA5TWYMhuiNG9rrYmKAXSf5UbdKkaAEJapkaVYus8PVDojzTWQGHEvYbTIsKWl4YXbFZBqT9xEmU/s400/DSCF5372.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rolls and rolls of barbed wire from the fences Big Daddy took down. <br />
The ones leaning against the wall are what he's keeping.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The scrappers told us that not too long ago the scrap yards wouldn't even take barbed wire because it ate up their steel grinders. But now, with newer grinding technology and the weakened economy, they are happy to have it. But probably not as happy as we are that they are taking it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDg4iNpz2f7uCFP7gpwSZCgBCuTP4RkrP-iKvVSBusTMHjzasHUNcb1e-6l33Y6bQUpmW8PGPWIjLxZyHvBeKaZOOWF7RrnTXlmOIfZ6EZMLQaAS3ctVWOk13-uAm802KxSYHpNzRvOIY/s1600/DSCF5389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDg4iNpz2f7uCFP7gpwSZCgBCuTP4RkrP-iKvVSBusTMHjzasHUNcb1e-6l33Y6bQUpmW8PGPWIjLxZyHvBeKaZOOWF7RrnTXlmOIfZ6EZMLQaAS3ctVWOk13-uAm802KxSYHpNzRvOIY/s400/DSCF5389.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the first load ready to head out. Don't worry - that galvanized steel tub is <br />
split down one side with several holes in the bottom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>One load was mostly fencing and went to the steel scrap yard. The next load was heavier steel items destined for another area of the same scrap yard, as well as old paint cans that went to a third area for specialized waste disposal. The final load consisted of aluminum and glass heading to an aluminum scrap yard in the other direction on their way home, plus all the things they were going to take to their own barn for special sorting and possible resale.<br />
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Here is a sampling of items they take home with them for sorting when they aren't working. They also took an old TV, and they'll separate out the electronics and any other usable components. They took several 100-ft or more extension cords that were cracked and taped, and they'll strip those for the various wires inside them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4fPVXdDLADc7wopuRBa71JMRIoRXPoUKTeBUiNvC_E_fuBkM425Z0xNR1SRlA1UbskBZN6OVNgm5nsCCNBKCoh6GxrGOXSxBAfhwQu7yvmX0iz776-_1vKkbcjCsTGU467nnwD0fb20/s1600/DSCF5420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4fPVXdDLADc7wopuRBa71JMRIoRXPoUKTeBUiNvC_E_fuBkM425Z0xNR1SRlA1UbskBZN6OVNgm5nsCCNBKCoh6GxrGOXSxBAfhwQu7yvmX0iz776-_1vKkbcjCsTGU467nnwD0fb20/s400/DSCF5420.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scrappers will look at each of these small items and sort out any copper, steel or aluminum, <br />
and she'll be looking for items that might interest any collectors she knows. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Once they had their final load and were ready to head out, we helped hoist the old pickup truck shell on top. It's the one from the dump cleanup I wrote about earlier:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://gritsandgraffiti.blogspot.com/2012/01/dumpster-diving-vs-dump-diving.html">Dumpster Diving vs. Dump Diving...</a></b></div>And I'm tellin' ya, were we ever glad to finally see it go. They promised not to let it fall off until they were long gone from Le Rustique!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5abQtJTCaCRZWCVcKApaza2FOv5dhyphenhyphen8_mvWe9lQEqzgun_vREerHgsg0CXrmaLEsZ8M8Ajd6FdOanHDNdJnPaV-Umkcy8i8Lzx0Iqqo-qnSI_hNA8BovY7-MmXY9GfEWnLpplDUyPe4/s1600/DSCF5423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5abQtJTCaCRZWCVcKApaza2FOv5dhyphenhyphen8_mvWe9lQEqzgun_vREerHgsg0CXrmaLEsZ8M8Ajd6FdOanHDNdJnPaV-Umkcy8i8Lzx0Iqqo-qnSI_hNA8BovY7-MmXY9GfEWnLpplDUyPe4/s400/DSCF5423.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, we bid <i>adieu</i> to the pickup truck shell that used to mark the location of The Old Dump.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Joining <a href="http://www.aruraljournal.com/2012/02/rural-thursday-blog-hop-2.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ARuralJournal+%28A+Rural+Journal%29">Rural Thursday</a> Blog Hop #2. Jump on over and check out some of the other participating sites.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6767202883_a67c982368_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Rural Thursday Blog Hop" border="0" height="200" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6767202883_a67c982368_o.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Charadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16461603001722068211noreply@blogger.com16