And There's More

           I tuckered out on ya last time and didn’t say everything I wanted to say, didn’t show you all the pictures I wanted to show you, didn’t finish the story I’d started about the boatload of cookies I’d made. I was gonna circle back around and pick it up again.

But, I didn’t. I got tired and it got late.

Luckily, and by the grace of God, we get to spend some more time with each other!

So! Let’s finish the cookie story.

Besides making cookies for game night with those fabulous Robinsons and besides making cookies and cheesecake for my oldest and much-adored sister’s visit —which, by the way, Patti didn’t eat a single bite of any of it! — I wanted to have cookies to send to my best old friend in West Virginia.

Trish and I have been friends since 1982; that’s about a hundred years ago, if my math is correct.

“Mom!” our handsome youngest son exclaims. “I was born in 1982!”

I know, right! That’s how I know how long Trish and I have been friends. We met shortly after your birth and you’re getting to be an old man now! Never mind how old that makes me!

This is an old picture that I dug out of Trish with all our youngins.

Anyway, Trish had a birthday and I wanted to make her a flamingo book box. Her birthday came and went almost two months ago and I didn’t get the box done until last week!

I couldn’t get as many cookies in her box as I would’ve liked so I still had a bunch in the freezer.

Friday night we had a movie night at our church. I thought to get rid of more cookies then so I took three containers full.

As you can imagine, putting my cookies up against pizza and a well-stocked candy bar didn’t go well for the cookies and I brought most of them home with me.

Sigh.

Back in the freezer they went.

Never fear. I still have plans for some of the cookies. I’m gonna re-home some of them with the Kipps and a few more might find themselves with a one-way ticket to Minnesota!

Something else I didn’t get around to telling you last time was that we made the dog run bigger.

Mike has a big heart for our critters, no matter what he tells you.

“Raini can’t see around the end of the wall,” Mike said.

We picked — he picked, a fairly warm day, I put my crafts aside, and we moved the dog fence.

At this end, it’s only moved out a few feet. I put a white line in the picture to show you where it used to be.

We got sprinkled on, then a little sleet, or maybe it’s graupel. It never got bad enough for us to quit working. 

We took the dogleg out and moved the fence over nine feet in this section.

The fence used to be attached right to the end of the wall. We added a panel on the end so now Raini has full view of the back forty.

Then I mowed the old fence line. 

I’ll tell you what! The first five minutes of mowing is a challenge. Both Raini and Bondi bark at the mower but Raini dashes in and grabs a tire, or the grass chute if I’m using the other mower.

And it’s the same thing with the weedeater. They both bark but Raini tries to grab it. I’m afraid she’ll get hurt. I released the button that makes the head spin and I smacked her with it. I tried to smack her with it, she’s too fast for me.

After a few minutes that seems like forever, they give up and leave me to the job.

Speaking of jobs...

I hate it when the township takes their big brush hog and mutilates the trees. It leaves them splintered and twisted and ugly, not to mention the debris it throws all over the road.

Mike talked with the guy for a while, then asked me to help him pick up the bigger pieces that landed on the road in front of our place. 

It was while I was standing there waiting for him to pass, avoiding pieces of flying wood, that I turned around and looked at a drain pipe that runs under our bank.

“What is that in there?” you ask.

I know, right! I wondered the same thing. At first, I thought it was a disposable plastic fruit basket turned upside down, but then I got closer and saw it was a suet cage I’d lost a couple of years ago. I always suspected a coon carried it off and even though I looked for it, I never found it — until now! 

And last time I was talking about all the hawks I’d seen. This was another one I was going to circle around and pick up. I was going to tell you that when I spotted him, I tried to take a picture through the front window of the car but my camera wouldn’t focus. I got this picture out of my side window as we zoomed past and I was lucky to get him at all.

Another thing I was going to tell you last time was the tower is down at the well pad and they were doing whatever it is they’re doing here. Capping it, maybe?

The next day we went back up and watched for quite a while. These guys look like they’re assembling something.

These guys are moving sections of pipe into place. 

Bolting sections together? 

Attaching something to the well? I can see he has a big wrench that he’s turning.  

Hooking up the electric?

Taking soil samples? 

We went back up later in the day and went up on top of the hill for an overview.

“I bet they put something around those pipes to keep people from driving into them,” Mike said.

We’ve had rain and it turned cold again so we didn’t go up much this past week. When we did, we saw one guy vacuuming the water puddles and they were indeed putting concrete barriers all along the pipes.

“What is it with taking everything out and bringing everything back in?” I know you wanna know.

One of the guys that attends our church works for one of the gas companies.

Nick, with his son NJ (short for Nick Junior) are these two handsome guys in a picture I took for the church directory a few months ago.

Mike has me print pictures and he takes them to church and asks Nick what the stuff is and what it’s used for.

I asked Nick about taking everything out and bringing it all back in.

“There are like nine companies that are contracted for the various stages in well drilling and they all have their own equipment,” Nick told me. “Not only that, but the equipment is very job specific, too, so they just can’t mix ‘em.”

Nick even listed the jobs for me but I can’t remember what he said.

The only other thing I would’ve told you last time was my Forsythia...

 ...and Rhodies are blooming — much later than others.

My twenty-pager of last time would’ve been a twenty-five pager had I not gotten worn out.

This week my Quince bush is blooming.

Violets are all over the place. 

And the yard is a veritable carpet of Dandelions!

I don’t care what anyone says! Dandelions are a pretty flower and in many cases it’s the first food of the year for the bees. 

One morning I was out to the kitchen and snapping the light on ahead of Raini. So, she missed it.

“Missed what?” you ask.

 Missed snagging this jumping mouse before I could get a picture of him. I’m guessing this was a gift from one of the cats and since Spitfire was lurking nearby, I’m guessing I had him to thank.

Look at the length of the tail and the really long back feet! I hadn’t noticed the fur being yellow so I don’t know if it was my lack of observation skills or a trick of the camera.

I didn’t let Raini have him but tossed him over the fence instead.

There’s a new place opening in Wysox. It’s called Shores Sisters. It’s not new-new. The family started with a tent on a lot and sold produce. They grew and got into a building. I knew their business was doing well because every time we passed by, the parking lot was always full. I had no idea just how well until they bought land next door and built a brand spankin’ new million-dollar store — maybe more than one million! What do I know?

Mike looked online at the menu for the café and saw they had burgers and cheesesteaks.

“Let’s go for lunch,” he said.

We’ve never patronized the business much because I always thought they were high-priced. But being in a new store, we had to check it out.

Crossing the beautiful Susquehanna.

This person is sitting beside the road. I don’t know which direction they were heading since their back was to us but when I turned around to look, he (or she) was holding a sign in front.

How silly, I thought. We can’t read it and I doubt traffic coming the other direction can read it either.

They weren’t there when we came back through.

Coming into Wysox, there was a little Sheltie trailing a leash, coming across a yard. There wasn’t anyone chasing it. “Watch out,” I told Mike. “He’s coming right out into the road.”

The dog did come out into the road. Mike honked the horn and he turned and trotted up the side of the road.

“Want me to stop?” Mike asked. He knew what was on my heart.

“Yeah. Let’s get him so he doesn’t get hit.”

Mike pulled into a parking lot ahead of the dog. The dog saw us, turned, and headed down between two businesses, away from the road. By the time I got unhooked and got out, he had a good head start on me. He was trotting, I was walking so when I got to where I could see him again, he was a couple of hundred yards away.

“Come here boy!” I called.

He stopped and looked at me.

“Come here!”

He stood there another moment then turned and trotted away. At least he was headed away from the highway and it looked like there might be houses in the direction he was headed, so I let him go.

These old buildings were behind the businesses that lined the highway.

The old Shores Sisters with the new building in the background. 

They have so much stuff! Fresh produce, farm raised meats, plants, a flower shop, and home décor.

The café had its own little section. You had to order at a counter and they have a three percent upcharge on credit cards.

To me, upcharging for the use of credit cards is petty. In our world, most people use a credit or debit card and don’t carry cash. Taking credit cards brings you much more business!

It almost encourages you to use cash, which is easier to hide than credit cards, if you were so inclined to be dishonest on your taxes. And having had our own businesses and knowing other business owners, that’s what they did.

“Every fifty-dollar bill that comes in goes right in my pocket,” one business owner told us.

Another time Mike walked into a store and the lady was sorting receipts. Anything paid with cash, the receipt went in the trash, and not declared.

On our twenty-three-dollar lunch, there was an eighty-cent upcharge.

“They could spread it out by adding a couple of pennies on everything they sold and it wouldn’t alienate the customers,” I told Miss Rosie later. She wanted me to let her know how the food was.

Once you ordered, they gave you a number and one of those square things that vibrate when your food is ready. You have to order at one counter and pick up at another counter when your food was ready.

Everything was disposable.

They didn’t have hamburgers or cheesesteaks on the menu. They only had sandwiches, paninis, wraps, and salads.

Mike got a BLT and I had a chicken salad wrap. You get one free side with your sandwich. The food was good, even if Mike’s side of mac and cheese was small, and there was an upcharge on my side salad, which I didn’t know until I looked at my receipt.

Mike only drinks water and they do have complimentary water — in cups that hold maybe half a cup! Tiny! I got him two cups.

“But would you go back again?” Miss Rosie wanted to know.

“Maybe. But Mike and I are cheapskates. We can eat at McDonald’s for less than five dollars,” I told her. And most of the time, that’s where we do eat. Don’t judge.

I took a few pictures on the way home.

Pipes stacked beside the rail line for the gas wells. I can’t get a picture to show you the tons of pipes stacked in this yard.

“What’s going on here?” Mike asked when a slow-moving semi on a hill moved to the passing lane. Then we saw what it was. An oversize load, heading for a well site no doubt.

There was another one up ahead and I took a picture as he made a left turn. 

And with that, let’s call this one done. 

Done!