It's May, It's May

I still can't tell if strawberries will be ready by Saturday, but there's a lot going on here anyway. We'll have some new horse trainers lunging Winston, Q-Tip, and Burrito. It's a pretty sight to behold. David Thomas will be singing in the Hawk's Head Public House--and, if you haven't purchased your tickets for the Night Before Mother's Day Ball, do it now. The two farm stores are full of historical souvenirs,books, and Riley's Farm gear as well--so if you can't stay busy here this Saturday, it's your fault.

Last night we had a little drama here as Luis stumbled up the stairs to our house and explained he had driven the Kawasaki mule off the side of the road on the "Widowmaker" trail to the Mile High Ranch. His friend, Craig, was having breathing problems, so we called 911 and the boys went off to the hospital. They are in good shape, if a little banged up. "How many of these trips across the farm have Luis and Craig been involved in?" I asked Mary. (It seems to me I remember Craig getting a car stuck back there.) Mary couldn't remember. "They were getting hay for Scott," she said. "Well," I said, "we need to put an end to these Luis and Craig expeditions." I paused for a moment and considered that phrasing. "Heah," I repeated. "That's a joke. Luis and and Craig Expeditions. The Luis and Craig Expedition. Get it?"

"Yes, dear," Mary said. "I get it. I get it."

We had some close friends over for dinner last night and they told us a story which deserves to be included in a major feature film, but I can't do it justice here. I was applauding my brother, Scott, for giving my father a life completely at home, around his family, during his declining years. Scott helped him dress, helped him eat, helped him go to the bathroom, and Scott was there when dad passed on. Our close friends had a similar story of taking care of their father at home, during the last month of his life, but there was a bizarre twist to the final chapter. On the very last day of the old man's life, our friends septic system backed up and they were told by the pumping company to begin unearthing the manhole covers before they arrived. As they were digging out the septic system, (at least two feet of earth), their father passed away in the bedroom, just as the hospice worker arrived, to see the whole family digging a hole in the back yard. The hospice worker looked from our grieving friend, to the old man in his final rest, to the mounds of the earth getting larger in the back yard, and said, "you aren't planning on.."

Just as we were hearing this story, Luis stumbled in, with news of the Luis and Craig Expedition.

Life beats fiction--most of the time.