A Walk On The Farm
Took a walk around the property today with delphine85 and looked at the Cowpasture River to check out the scene. Lovely day out, with mild breezes and a nice, cool 52F. Chester the world's greatest dog, Penny and Dudley joined us as we walked down around the hangar and through the fields. Ran into Mimi, delphine85 's grandmother while walking (which is when Dudley the wonder dog joined us) and talked to her a bit as she walked to the mailbox. Her Samoyid, Snowball, was running everywhere. Penny also scared up a rabbit, and tried to chase it. But she's not exactly young anymore, and gave up after about twenty yards. Rabbits are quick...
On our way back up the drive we spotted quite a few groundhog holes. Guh. Damn things are everywhere. Need to go out and plant flags into the ground to mark where they are. Not my job, though. The holes are, however, hell on the farming equipment and frankly nobody can really afford to eat the kind of costs hay balers can rack up if damaged.
Then we spotted the hole that some wild creature dug over where Ginger, the old golden retriever, was buried. You could faintly see the her ribs poking up from the ground, so I grabbed a log and rolled it on top for a temporary solution until 'delphine85 s dad figures out what he wants to do. Personally, I'd lime the area and throw some big rocks on top, but that's my unprofessional opinion.
Job interview tonight at the art gallery in Roanoke. I'm nervous/excited, because apparently the owner wants someone who is snarky enough to come back at the artists when they get too cocky. Given my past history destroying the wills of children with my thespian talents, I'm certain I will look forward to this.
(Yes, I liberally stole that line from a Mad Mike book...)
That's me, the ego buster.
On our way back up the drive we spotted quite a few groundhog holes. Guh. Damn things are everywhere. Need to go out and plant flags into the ground to mark where they are. Not my job, though. The holes are, however, hell on the farming equipment and frankly nobody can really afford to eat the kind of costs hay balers can rack up if damaged.
Then we spotted the hole that some wild creature dug over where Ginger, the old golden retriever, was buried. You could faintly see the her ribs poking up from the ground, so I grabbed a log and rolled it on top for a temporary solution until 'delphine85 s dad figures out what he wants to do. Personally, I'd lime the area and throw some big rocks on top, but that's my unprofessional opinion.
Job interview tonight at the art gallery in Roanoke. I'm nervous/excited, because apparently the owner wants someone who is snarky enough to come back at the artists when they get too cocky. Given my past history destroying the wills of children with my thespian talents, I'm certain I will look forward to this.
(Yes, I liberally stole that line from a Mad Mike book...)
That's me, the ego buster.