But We Clean Up Pretty Good

It was cool and overcast when we got home Saturday afternoon, so Bruce and I went out to take a look at our yard.  Then we grabbed some tools and got to work.

These are those nasty milkweed/dandelion-type weeds, happily growing next to the fence.

And here they are again, lying mostly dead on the ground. 

That's me hacking at the weeds with a tree-trimmer.  For one thing, our garden-shears are not working; for another, the stems of the weeds are as thick and tough as tree branches.

Now I am admiring my work in trimming back the Virginia Creeper, which had crept over the fence and across our lawn.

When Ryan came out and saw what Bruce and I were doing, he got out the lawn-mower and mowed down the weeds in the middle of the yard.

And here's what our yard looked like on Sunday morning.  Wow!

Now, I understand that simply chopping down the weeds doesn't get rid of them entirely.  But Wow!  Our yard looks pretty good.  Maybe we are not total rednecks (or just white-trash) after all.  And when we are finished with camp—and can keep an eye on the yard and the watering—we will get some broad-leaf plant killer and fertilizer (and maybe bug killer too) for the lawn.  There may be some hope here after all. :-)

Oh Deer!

I was finally able to take a good picture of a deer this past week.

I was on a commissary delivery when I saw her. You can see the passenger-side mirror of the commissary van, so you know that I took the picture and didn't just find it on the internet. ;-)

And this deer decided to do tricks for the camera, too.

Oh what a great photographer I am! ;-)

I Hate EVERYTHING!

That's just how it is sometimes.  Like today.  I have hated--well, barely tolerated--this summer and this camp, and I really hate this day.

Last night Brandon showed me that his only pair of uniform pants had a leg about to come off.  So I mended it the best I could, but the fabric is really weak; I didn't feel too hopeful for them lasting even a couple days longer.  But, I thought, I could go into Evanston and pick some up for him after my work was done today.

This morning I asked Bruce if there was any possibility that he could have this evening off and come with me.  He asked, and by 4 p.m. I discovered that the answer was . . . "Yes!"

Yay!

I finished work at 4:00, but he didn't finish until 5:30.  I drove down to the rifle range to pick him up and guess what?  He couldn't come after all.  Well, isn't that nice?  So I was very disappointed, but Brandon still needed the pants.

So, fine.  I will go by myself. At 6:30--two-and-a-half hours later than it would have been had I gone as soon as I was finished with my work.  And I would hurry off without having had dinner.  At least I can grab a bite of real food in town.  

Nearly 40 miles and almost an hour later I am in Evanston and the store I wanted to go to for Brandon's pants is closed.  I will hope against hope that Wal-Mart has the color and size he needs.

They do!  Hallelujah!

I pick up a few groceries that might be nice to have, the pants, and some fuses for the van.  I go to the checkout and guess what?  My debit card is denied.  I know I have the money in the account, but no go.  And I bet I know what happened:  We made our house payment three weeks ago on one of our fleeting weekends home, but the payment never went through.  So we talked to the mortgage company and the bank and "fixed" it.  How much do you want to bet that the payment finally went through twice?

So here I sit in the Wendy's parking lot in Evanston (an 80-ish mile round trip when all is said and done, at 10 miles per gallon in our van--not cheap).  I am hungry, and I can smell food, but I can't get any.  Brandon is still without pants and my mending job is tearing through even as I type.  I have to figure out how to talk to the bank and the mortgage company again tomorrow with extremely limited and sketchy internet access and no phone.  And we probably don't have enough gas left in the van to get home this weekend, and won't be able to buy enough unless the "insufficient funds" mess gets cleared up immediately.  Now it's time to make the drive back to camp, by myself, as it gets dark.  And besides all that, this morning my old granny came to visit.

Yes, I really hate everything!

Rednecks

I'm afraid it's true.

 Yes, yes . . .

. . . that is one of the benches from our van, doubling as a couch in our concrete-floored living room. It's real nice, don't ya think? And the camp chair too.

Now, I'll own up that we are not great gardeners at the best of times, but being gone for the entire summer is wreaking havoc . . .

(I wouldn't be heartbroken if some kindly soul came and weed-whacked our jungle. Or just poisoned the whole yard.)

Still, we might jest get some good peaches from yonder tree (if'n the weeds don't kill it first).

On the upside, I have a great excuse to tear out the ugly rocks . . . 

. . . and redo the fireplace with tile like I've been wanting to.

(In fact, I wouldn't be heartbroken to come home one weekend and find out that all the ugly rocks were beaten out either. No, really . . . if you have extra time on your hands . . .)

Well, I guess we will be home in three more weeks.

Llamas, and Cattle, and Bears! Oh My!

We saw all kinds of animals in camp this week.

The Forest Service brought these llamas, Button and Mutton, up.  I don't really know why.

On Thursday, as I was making my rounds this herd of cattle was crossing our road.  Cows sound funny!

And we really have had a couple run-ins with bears, too.  Well, not me personally.  When we got back last Sunday we found out that a man who had stayed in camp had an interlude with a bear.  Even though he didn't have any food or nice-smelling things (like shampoo or deodorant) stored in his tent, he had been grilling steaks that evening and was still wearing the same T-shirt when he retired.  The bear could smell his delicious shirt and was clawing its way into his tent, so he punched the bear in the nose (through the tent wall) and it ran away.

Then on Wednesday we had another bear incident—but this one didn't have a happy ending.  A visiting scout troop did not mind the rules and left their campsite a mess:  candy-bars, food, and trash all over the place.  A bear got into their area and wouldn't leave, and it had to be shot. :-(

We saw other wildlife, too.

This little bird got into the truck.  The previous day another bird was flying all around the commissary.

We see deer all the time, but I haven't been able to get a good picture of one yet—including this one, taken at Camp Sunrise (one of the camps I deliver food to).

And yesterday my road was blocked by a herd of sheep for about 25 minutes—although I guess the sheep are not really wild life.. (Sheep sound funny too!)   It's just a laugh a minute up at camp. ;-)

Antaeus

Hercules, of Greek mythology, came across a giant named Antaeus during his wanderings. This giant was huge, ugly, either stupid or evil (depending on who tells the story), and had only one eye.  Antaeus challenged Hercules to a wrestling match—maybe so Hercules could pass through his territory or something; I don't remember exactly.

Hercules took Antaeus' challenge; they struggled and clashed and grappled until the ground shook.  Antaeus' strength was almost too great even for Hercules.  Hercules would wrestle him to the earth, but every time he fell Antaeus came up again even stronger.

You see, Antaeus was born of Mother Earth and so when he touched the earth his strength was renewed and increased.  When Hercules lifted Antaeus he could feel Antaeus' strength—even his very breath leaving him. Then, thinking he had won, Hercules would throw Antaeus down to the ground or into the river, but Antaeus would spring back up completely invigorated.  After some time Hercules realized what was going on, so he held Antaeus up, away from the earth until all of Antaeus' strength and finally his very life left him.

Every now and then I need to touch my home too.  It has been good to be here for a week before I go back into battle.

I am Antaeus.

Except for the huge, ugly, stupid/evil, and one-eyed, part.