Anyway this morning he asked if I wanted to ride along to the barn. . . . and sweep the flies out of the office and write down a list of things needed to streamline the whole process for laundry. The barn where he used to work all those eons ago had a washer and dryer right there to wash the coveralls, towels, etc.
I got done sweeping flies and Ellis was still inside whooping and hollering at the pigs. (There were three that were being picked on so he had to separate them out of the pens and find a new place for them. He rescued them from certain death.)
Think about the hog farmers the next time you eat pork chops or Spam. =}
Anyway I went out to the suburban and settled down to read a book about how to lower stress in my life. I looked out the window and saw a field lane and thought, "If I take a walk that would lower stress." There was even a jacket in the back seat -- so I set off.
There was a beautiful tree and a rock pile under it. A blue sky -- not quite like MT -- but almost. I found three or four unique rocks in the gravel on the lane, but I exercised great restraint and did not bring them home. Only held them and memorized how they looked. One was black with sparkles, one was red and black with sparkles . . . the sun was shining -- can you tell? There was a cream colored rock with a dark band through the center. I can't remember the other one that caught my eye.
Last fall I found a piece of petrified wood on 290th ST -- the road that goes by our house. It is a gravel road -- not pavement. All during my childhood I searched for petrified wood every time we went to Graceton Beach on Lake of the Woods. I never found anything and now I find a small piece on my doorstep in southern MN.
That reminds me of the walleye Dad caught in one of the mud puddles (small lakes) here in southern MN. When we lived up north we fished on Lake of the Woods every summer. We caught some awesome fish . . . at least they were big and put up a fight before we got them in the boat. There were some walleye and lots of northern pike. The biggest walleye was landed by my dad at St. Olaf Lake -- or was it Cedar Lake? We have a picture of Dad, Hans and Jeremy on the dock with the fish held high . . . pleased expressions all around.