Interesting People

          July.

          It's July.

          And it's hot here in the mountains of Pennsylvania, at least today and for most of next week. Just a very few days ago it was 61 in the middle of the afternoon and now it's almost 100!  What a difference a few days make! I have to brag on my husband a little bit here now. Mike's insulated our house well and we only put a few windows in. It stays about 20 degrees cooler than outside — without running any air conditioning. I wear a sweatshirt in the house and have to take it off when I go outside.

          Mike got his mower stuck when he was mowing down at the pond's edge. But only this one time in the last couple of weeks, so you know what that means, don't you. It means the ground is drying up after all the rain we've had.

          "There's that little yellow fawn and a rabbit," Mike says.

          "Where!" I ask all excited. I love the baby deer.

          "Right there by the pond."

          I zoom in with my camera and it's not a fawn at all. "It's Rascal!"

          Mike grinned. He got me.

          But we've been seeing a doe with her fawn quite a lot on our little section of Robinson Road.

          Pulling into the Kipp's driveway last Sunday afternoon, the doe and her fawn were beside the creek. The fawn took off,

but Mama turned her head and looked over her back at us. Is this something most deer do, or is it unique to this one deer?

          I love the daisies against the battered and bruised milk can that holds the Kipp's mailbox. They've had to replace the mailbox countless times, but they still have the same holder.

          After visiting with Rosie and Lamar for a bit, our conversation continued to the back door.

          "You know, if you had a pitchfork, you two would look like American Gothic standing there," I told them.

          "I think I have a shovel," Lamar said and went to get it. He's such a good sport. "I couldn't find it but I found a broom," he said when he got back.

          I love these two people.

          Now, as long as we're talking about the Kipps, I have a couple of more pictures from visits with them this past week.

          I was given a bunch of rhubarb. I spent some time on Google searching through rhubarb pie recipes that didn't involve strawberries and I found one that sounded interesting. It used a crumb mixture pressed in the pan for a crust with more crumbs on top. 

          Then I got the rhubarb out of the fridge. As I looked it over, it looked to me like the tender upper portion of the stalk was taken and it was just the thick lower portion of the stalks that were given away. Not only that but whoever took the top part didn't use a knife. The stalks were twisted and ragged. I called Rosie. "Can I still use them?"

          "Sure. But you might need to string them like you do celery when it gets too big."

          So I did. I peeled it. Then I sliced it with my food processor. It took me like thirty seconds to slice up enough rhubarb for a pie. The slices were thin but I figured that would be better so they wouldn't be tough — or stringy if I missed any strings.

          Once my pie was done and had cooled for a few minutes, we took it down and shared it with the Kipps.

          "How was it?" you wonder.

          I thought it was just okay. As you may already have guessed, there was no texture to my rhubarb. No, that's not right. It did have a texture. Mushy is a texture. Being sliced so thin made it more like a pudding. There wasn't anything wrong with the flavor though.

          Another day, Miss Rosie called me. "Peg, the bridge is closed. If you need to go anywhere, you'll have to go the long way around."

          "Let's go check it out," Mike said after I told him. We got on the golf cart and drove down to our single-lane open-grate bridge.

          "What are they doing?" you wonder.

          They're drilling to find bedrock in which to anchor the new bridge to.

          "Since we're here we might just as well pop in and say hello to the Kipps, don't you think?" Mike asked.

          Mike drove around to the back door like he usually does and Lamar is on the back porch. "What's he doing?" I asked Mike like he would know.

          "I don't know. It looks like he's working on something."

          And Mike was right. Lamar was cleaning out the drawers of Rosie's new jewelry box for her.

          We visited for a while. Conversation with the Kipps is always easy and there is no end to the topics discussed around the kitchen table.

          "Before you leave, I found a treasure for you when I was cleaning out the basement," Lamar said.

          A treasure? I love treasures! Found in the basement? That means old, right! For me — I mean, for us? What could it be? "Really?"

          "Yeah. It's out on the porch. But you don't have to take it if you don't want it."

          Lamar found an old grinding wheel. I have no idea what we'll do with it, but we have one now.

          Speaking of finds, we did a little yard sale'n and made a few finds of our own. I found some old peanut butter jars just like Rosie's. "The girls have seen them at flea markets for as much as ten dollars apiece," she told me.

          When I talked about them a few weeks ago, I'd Googled it and found out it came in two sizes, although Rosie only had the small size. Then, at a flea market, I was digging in a box that had clothes on top. Underneath I found these. There was a third tall one but it was chipped so I didn't take it. My bargain price? I know you want to know. Fifty-cents each.

          "What are you going to do with them?" Mike asked.

          I hadn't thought of that. "I don't know."

          "We use ours all the time," Miss Rosie told me. "It's just the right size for jello or a little ice cream."

          If that beautiful daughter-in-law of mine is interested in them, maybe I'll ship them to her, one at a time, in Andrew's Goodie Boxes. Stuff like this is fun when you have kids to make memories with. Ask the Kipp girls.

          At the same flea market, we found an old bell. Crystal Metal made this 15-inch one and I believe it's a dinner bell. The guy said it was old, but he wanted to sell it to us. It brings back memories for Mike because his grandparents used one to call them in from summertime play. And me? I always thought it would be cool to have a bell. I'm not sure what we're going to do with it, but I trust Mike will find the perfect place for it.

          At another yard sale, the lady had a lot of antique stuff, but we didn't buy anything. Her yard was full of stuff, everywhere I looked.

          "May I walk around?" I asked.

          "Sure!" she didn't even hesitate. I'm sure she was proud of her landscaping — I would be — and it's nice to have your hard work appreciated. I've narrowed down the more than one hundred pictures I'd taken to just ten.

          Once I was done wandering around the yard, I headed back to where Mike was standing talking to her.

           They were talking about school buses. Did you know that here, all the bus drivers are independent contractors? They don't work for a company and they own and maintain their own buses. Mike didn't know that and found it all very fascinating. 

          As they talked I wandered a little more and snapped a few more pictures, including this one of her front porch this time, 

then I stood waiting for the conversation to spark an interest in me.

          It didn't happen.

          I waited for a break in the conversation and I jumped right in.

          "Who gets to take care of all this stuff?" I asked.

          "I do," she answered. "I tell my husband all the time that I want a bitch," and she laughed.

          "I know, right!" I told her. "Me too! I hate housework."

          "In my next life, I want to come back as a man, because I want to pee on a tree."

          It sounded like something she may have said a hundred times before and I don't know the back-story but it tickled me and I thought it would be a good addition to my people's page.

          "I'd love to put you on my page with that quote," I told her.

          "You have a page?"

          "I do. When I meet interesting people I put them on my page along with a quote. I'll get you a card." I went back to the Jeep and got out a special, made-with-love, homemade business card.

          "Humans I Meet," she read. "I like that."

          "What's your name?" I asked just for my own information.

          "Tina Pickett," she answered.

          Our State Representative has the same name. Mike and I've met her before and knew that this wasn't her, yet Mike couldn't resist. "Not the State Representative Tina Pickett?" he asked.

          Tina laughed. "No. Not the State Representative Tina Pickett. Boy, wouldn't that be something to have her on there with that quote!" Then you could almost see the devil come out in her as she said, "Here!" and she got right up next to Mike as if to kiss him.

          I snapped away. Boy, Mike sure looks like he's hating this, doesn't he? "Your husband might not like this picture," I told her.

          "Pfft. He's used to it."

          Her husband does stonework and on the way out I took a picture of his barn... shed? Workshop!

          Speaking of interesting people, Mike and I met a nice young couple last week.

           Y'all have heard me say more than once that we have too much stuff.

          "Peg! If you have too much stuff, what are ya doin' yard sale'n?" you ask.

          I know, right! It's the thrill of the hunt. Most times we leave without buying anything but you just never know when a memory will jump up and grab you, like an old dinner bell does. Or you find things for other people. I do that a lot because the people I love are never far from my heart. I found a Rack-O game to give to the kids if they ever come and visit. I love Rack-O. I found a new card game for us to play with the neighbors on game night called Water Works. And I found an amazing deal on three big boxes of yarn. My Miss Rosie is a knitter and I know when her wrist is healed, she'll knit again. It was an amazing deal and I know what a skein of yarn costs.

          I called her. "Rosie, would you have Lamar drive you up to my house? I got something for you today."

          "All right," she said.

          By the time she got here, I had the yarn all sorted out on the table. "Take as much as you want," I told her. "In fact, you can have it all."

          Rosie laughed. "I don't know about that. I don't like pink."

          There were five or six skeins of pink. "You make baby blankets as gifts, don't you?" I asked.

          "Yeah, but I don't like pink," she reiterated.

          "What do you think would be a good price for all of this yarn," I asked.

          Rosie thought about it for a minute. "Even the cheapest yarn is like three bucks a skein and there must be 30 skeins here, many of them new. I'd say $50."

          "So if I told you I got it all for, say, ten dollars, would you say that was a good deal?"

          "Yeah!"

          "If I told you I got all of this yarn," and I made a dramatic sweep of my hand across the tableful of yarn, "for five bucks, you'd say that was a good deal?"

          "Well, yeah!"

          "What if I told you I got all of this yarn," and I made another dramatic sweep, "for three dollars?"

          "I'd say that was a really good deal."

          I had to twist Rosie's good arm to make her take it all. "You really won't use it?" she asked.

          "Nope. The only thing I make are dishrags and they have to be 100% cotton."

          "I'll keep what I want and pass the rest on to other people who can use it."

          That suited me just fine. Pass the love. And speaking of my dishrags — oh my gosh! I got so sidetracked here, but I have to tell you this one more thing then we'll get on with the 'interesting people' story.

          My homemade dishrags are only good to use for a day. They get stinky overnight. So the next day I'll take the previous day's dishrag to the laundry room and hang it on the side of the basket to finish drying.

          Smudge! That cat! Smudge loves those old stinky dishrags and can often be found canoodling with them! Most times, I'll find my dishrag out in the middle of the floor and I'll know he was playing with it and sometimes I hear him in there tossing it about, catching it, and lovin' on it.

          So, back to my 'interesting people' story. One of the things we decided to sell was a 60" Swisher finish mower. You can offset it, pull it behind your riding mower, and cut a lot of yard at once. We brought it down from the barn, washed it up, put a new battery in, new gas filter and lines, and started it up. Mike hooked it behind his Gravely Zero Turn and mowed some of the yard that way but it was more of a hindrance to him than it was worth. He couldn't turn his Gravely very sharp while pulling it so he couldn't get close to trees, and Mike doesn't have enough open space to mow to make it worth his while to hook this up, so we decided to sell it.

          I listed it on FaceBook Yard Sale and within the hour, I had several offers. We accepted an offer from Frank and after chatting back and forth, finalizing the deal and arranging for him to pick it up, it was all set. He'd be down the next day.

          Frank did a great job of keeping me updated on when he expected to be here. I'm guessing some people agree to hold stuff for people then get stood up because quite often I'll see No Holds on the postings. But Frank said he'd be here, and I was willing to give him the chance. Other people let me know that if Frank didn't take it, they wanted it. These mowers can be anywhere up to $2,200. Even though we've taken good care of ours, it wasn't new by any means and judging by the offers I got, I think Frank got a really good deal.

          "I should have asked for more," Mike lamented when the deal was done.

          "Stop!" I scold him. "You got what you wanted out of it and Frank's happy."

          But I'm a little ahead of myself and now you know how the story ends.

          Frank brought his wife Ashley and his little girl Harper Rose with him. 

Harper Rose was happy to ride the carousel as long as Ashley stood by and kept starting it for her.

          Frank, in the meantime, checked the mower out and made sure he knew how to operate it.

          "I'll take it," Frank said and handed me the money. Now the problem was to get it into the back of his truck. Frank lifted it to feel its weight. As strong as he was he knew there was no way he and Mike could put it into the back of the truck.

          "We could hook a chain to it, use the tractor to lift it up and set it in the back of your truck," Mike said.       

          "What if we strap it to the bucket and you use your tractor like a forklift?" Frank suggested.

          Mike thought about it for a minute and realized it was a much better plan than the one he came up with.

          I'd normally take a million pictures during this kind of operation but I was assigned to watch one side of the truck while Frank watched the other, and Mike operated the tractor. It worked so well that we never got to use our middle name, Mike and Peg, the do-it-again Luby's.

          Ashley was tired of watching Harper on the Merry-Go-Round and listening to that cheesy music so she joined us. Harper let us know how she felt about it too.

           While Mike and Frank talked, Ashley distracted her little girl with a game of dodge. 

           Just when Harper thought she'd tag Mom, Ashley would kick her leg up over her head, eliciting a giggle from Harper.

          Tired of dodge we moved on to songs. "Can you do Ring Around The Rosie?" Ashley asked and started the song. Don't you love the wide-eyed wonder and love on this little girl's face as she listened to her mom sing to her? 

           Then she got to a part that Harper Rose knew.

          Speaking of knowing, here's something I didn't know. Did you know that Ring Around The Rosie has a second verse? Ashley knew it.

          First verse:

          Ring around the rosie, (hold hands in a circle and skip around)

          A pocket full of posies,

          Ashes, ashes, we all fall down! (Sit or fall down)

          Second verse:

          The cows are in the meadow,

          Eating buttercups,

          Thunder (slap the floor), lightning (clap), we all stand up!

          Then it was I'm A Little Teapot and Harper could do the part where you tip over. She's so stinkin' cute, isn't she.

          It was almost time for them to leave. "How are you going to get that off the truck?" I asked.

          "Don't worry," Frank replied. "I'm a sergeant with the sheriff's department. I'll get a couple of the guys over and we'll get it off."

          We really enjoyed our visit with this young couple.

           The Elderberry is blooming. 

           So is the sumac.

          Daylilies. 

           I don't know. A wild rose of some kind.

           A damselfly. 

           A Silver-spotted Skipper

           I'm not sure what's going on here. I think one bee is killing the other.

    
           On the other hand, I do know what's going on here.

           Beardtongue

           Great Spangled Fritillary

           AnOxeye Daisy with a stink bug nymph.

           My desktop picture—a whole flock of daisies!

           St. John's Wort

           Crown Vetch

           Black-eyed Susan

     
           Pokeweed

           I followed this Tiger Swallowtail around the Milkweed one day. 

           I was tickled when he landed next to a Monarch.

           How about some road pictures. We stopped outside of Ulster and looked at the baby eagles. There was another birdwatcher there and he told one of the babies left the nest last week and they expected the other two would be gone within a week.

          Believe it or not, there are more pictures left in the file to show you. We'll save them for next time.

          Until then, remember, you are all in my heart.

          Let's call this one done.