Down the Road with Smooch ~ August 2011

"Down the Road with Smooch" is a post that chronicles for posterity the who-what-where-when of our daily walk, on or about the first of every month. We're late again. No surprise there.

Date: August 10, 2011
Route: To the northwest corner of the ranch and back, with a detour through the pasture to remove fly masks.
Distance: 2 miles, more or less
Time: 7ish to 8ish pm
Temperature: 88 degrees
Humidity: 12 percent
Wind: Not a bit.
On the iPod: The Thornbirds by Colleen McCullough. I remember reading this book originally in the late seventies, while sitting in the waiting room of a Midas Muffler in Alexandria, Virginia. They could have worked on my car all day for all I cared because the story was that good. Thirtysome years later, it's still a great story.
Attire: Shorts, tank top, socks, sneakers, baseball cap. If you follow these Down the Road with Smooch posts, you're probably wondering if I ever wear anything else. I don't. At least not in the summertime.

Three inches of rain have fallen since the July edition of Down the Road with Smooch. It's possible to sit and watch the grass grow.

Smooch: You make a better door than a window, mom. How am I supposed to see who's coming down the road?

Me: Smooch, when was the last time you saw somebody coming down this road?

Smooch: February? But you never know. I must remain ever vigilant. It's my job.

Smooch: You've been stepping out on me. I can tell.

Me: Yes, I have. Those are Lucy's hoofprints. If you'd promise not to run away, you'd be able to join us.

Smooch: I promise!

Me: You lie.

There's a story behind these tire tracks. Here's the condensed version: I saw smoke Tuesday afternoon. Hopped in Ranger to investigate. Drove down road. Saw flames. Turned around. Went home to get truck (it goes faster). Drove to flames.
17 slash piles were on fire, obviously an intentional burn, but the yahoo who set them didn't stick around to keep an eye on them.
Lucky for him, the wind didn't kick up, but I'm still burning with rage.

 Anyway, back to our walk. Rain does the most interesting things to the parched ground.

 It also brings out the wildflowers and mushrooms. Mushrooms in the desert! Who knew?
Must be all that cow poop natural fertilizer.

Have I told you that Smooch wants to be a paw model when she grows up?

The grass is always greener at the low spot in the road.

Home on the range...in the dusk...in August...after it finally rains. Sigh.

 Smooch: This is the part of the post where it ceases to be about me, isn't it?

Me: Sorry, hon', but we've got to go take off those fly masks.

 Lucy: It's about damned time. The flies went to sleep a half hour ago.

Smooch's ears may be short, but she can point them in any direction. 

 Hank: Where have you been? And what's up with the dog? Since when does she get pasture privileges?

Me: Come on, Smooch. Mission accomplished. Let's walk on home.