A Raid on the Farm! Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter One

stuff-to-doIt was a busy day yesterday!  Mom and I had lots and lots of stuff to do.

fixing-a-tireSo did Dad.  FIrst there was a flat tire needing fixed

greenThen Mom and I had to follow Dad over to the wire trailer

helpMom and I had to clean out the pick-up and give it a good wash

rideIt seemed liked we worked and worked all day long.  I only got to take a nap when I was on the back of the four-wheeler heading here or there, as Mom drove.

tummy-rubWe all went to be early…8 o’clock.  Well, I did anyway. I was so tired I kept trying to sleep wherever I could.  Finally Mom opened the back door;  I jumped into the house, headed right to my padded bed, scratched up my covers and flopped right down.

Mom says I snore.  Dad says I really snore.

I don’t think so, but for the sake of this story…I fell right to sleep!  Maybe I snored; I guess I will never know.

in-the-sunNext morning I padded my way out to the bridge over the canal…let’s see—

the-samSam was guarding the place for a spell.  That’s okay by me.  He’s a light sleeper wakes Mom up every night around one or two in the morning to be let outside.  Of course when he wakes Mom up he wakes me up.  That’s when Mom and I go outside for nice little walk.

I don’t go with Sam.  Although, he sometimes goes with us.  Most of the time he doesn’t even when invited.  Just looks at us and heads off to dig a hole or something.  I don’t go with him either…when a cat digs a hole it to ‘do his business’ and I’m not interested in that.

ALTHOUGH!  I do know dogs who are VERY interested in eating …

Shake, shake, rattle my head, and flap my long, soft beagle ears—“BOOMER!  That’s enough!”  I could just hear Mom admonish me.  (But you know what I’m talking about, I’m sure.)


Then I headed into the farm yard to sniff and snuffle my way through every little nook and cranny.


Yep, Min-Min Lou Dad’s shop cat has been here.

OH! Snuff, snuffle…seems like she saw something that alarmed her.

I guess I’ll just follow her tracks and see what she found out.

busyThose ring-tailed bandits have been walking through the farm yard!


Oh…they were heading to canal to wash their food.  Those creatures are the cleanest critters around.  They wash everything…ever give a raccoon a slice of bread…off to the canal, an irrigation ditch, even my dog water bowl and wash the bread. Of course the bread just dissolves—nothing left.

They fall for it every time…EVERY TIME!

I sure get a kick out the look on their faces when the bread is there and then just GONE!  TEE HEE HAHAHAH BAHAHAHAH!







I picked up my paws and loped to where she was.  When Mom calls like that it means we have STUFF TO DO!

Sorry I am Late—Thursday, September 29, 2016

fall-sunset-001It’s trying to rain here.


The combine is broke down and I spent the morning in ER.

I guess I am hurt…the fall bruised my ribs, pushed my ribs into my lung –on one side and caused my lung to fold in on itself. It has a long fancy name.  At least my heart is okay, and no compound fractures on the ribs…they may have hair cracks–I just have to careful for a spell.

Heavy drugs, but hope to be back able to breathe again, maybe Sunday.

Sorry, just can’t focus to really write anything.




A Silence Most Deafening—Wednesday, September 28, 2016

aspen-leavesMy brother and I grew up on an orchard, I think I’ve told you that before.  It was within the the orchard I learned to love solitude– of being surrounded by things called nature.

jagged-mountainsOften times I would take myself out into the orchards and lay down (sometimes in the ditches), totally oblivious of getting weeds and leaves in my hair or stuck to my clothes;  stare up into the leaves of the trees–the sight more beautiful than any photograph could ever be.

owl-creek-pass-023Spring, winter, summer, fall I was washed with sunlight, starlight and the beams of the moon.

owl-creek-pass-near-ridgwayI told you this story, because I guess I need to confess, I’m tired anymore.  I’ve taken two rather bad tumbles lately, one on the ditch bank, where I actually fell quiet flat on my back and probably would have made a great clip for America’s Funniest Home Videos.   And yesterday, when I slid sideways, throwing myself completely flat on my right side, my head hanging down into the little creek at the bottom of the slight hill.

I was on a trail in the Old Apricot Orchard— checking fences, so Romeo (Shannon’s) horse couldn’t get out.   I laid there looking up at the sky, weeds and grasses way over my head–fat bees buzzed nearby, a drove of  gnats swarmed overhead, and a ladybug stopped dead in her tracks, on a blade of grass, to see what fell into her perfect little world.

owl-creek-pass-036Laying there caused me to remember those carefree days of willfully lying down amongst the plant life as a child.

silver-jack-reservoirThis morning Terry confessed he was very tired also. “We are getting old,” he sadly said. “We just can’t work like we use to do.” 

on-the-silver-jack-reservoi“Maybe we ARE old”, I replied.  “But, maybe, just maybe, what we really need is a break from work.  Maybe what we need is to do something so different our minds and bodies can rest.”

“A min-vacation!” Terry exclaimed.  “But first—there is the pinto bean harvest to get through!”  Which gave us a good laugh.

Work first…always.

Your friend on a western Colorado Farm






We Begin Again—Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Finally, after too much rain for harvest time.  We were able to begin again yesterday!


If the weather holds (crossed fingers and toes) we should be done late Wednesday night. with the last load to the Beanery Thursday morning.

last-bean-field-2Bearing NO breakdowns or too long of lines at the Beanery.

going-back-for-another-load(Trucks are empty heading back for more.)

bean-harvestWish us luck!


Your friend on a western Colorado farm,



Fall’s Cooling Touch—-Monday, September 26, 2016


The summer air has been cooled; then cooled again, from rain storms, which either move gently over us, or violent with thrashing winds and wicked electric storms.

owl-creek-pass-1Saturday we went with jeeping friends on a leisure ride, to Silverjack Reservoir and over Owl Creek Pass.

owl-creek-pass-021The magic light of the forest mingling, with the rain, did not diminish the colors

forrestThe aspens, scrub oak and dark green of the pines glowed, lighting up the drizzly day

silver-jackSilverjack Reservoir area was just beautiful

walking-on-goldOur pathway lined with gold

snow-on-owl-creekWe met the purity of snow, on the top of Owl Creek Pass


Then down we went to the other side.  The brilliant colors a joy to our eyes

owl-creek-pass-near-ridgwayThe last bit of wonder, before we turned toward home.

From my world to your heart!


A Rainbow and a Different Bit of Fun—Sunday, September 25, 2016


Two rainbows!  Very faint, but still I saw them!!!  :)

One day in August I got an email from a blog friend, Katie, writing to me about a series of books:  The Betsy-Tacy books, these are a series of semi-autobiographical novels by American novelist and short-story writer Maud Hart Lovelace (1892-1980).

I had used a quote from one of the books on a blog post, which prompted Katie to write me.

I didn’t realize there is so many wonderful things about Betsy-Tacy and her books.  A huge following of men and women have created a Betsy-Tacy society, helped purchase the houses Betsy-Tacy grew up in  and other tireless good works.

(This is the photo of one of the books, featured on Amazon.com)

They work to spread the word about these delightful books–even donating them to local libraries.

Betsy-Tacy are true stories written at the turn of the 20th Century—1900 — set in Mankato, Minnesota , similar to the Little House on the Prairie books, only in 1900, not 1871.

Please take some time out of your busy day to visit these sites I have marked in blue you just might like these special little books!  I have only read the first four for far.

I hope you enjoy them!






The Adventures of Boomer on Friday—-Re-arranging the Ditch

Mom told me years and years ago she always liked to clean the house by re-arranging the furniture.  Move the sofa here, place the dining room table there…you know…shake it up a little.

Gradually over time she stopped that nonsense, finding just the perfect spot for the piano, the lazy-boy chairs, the beds in the bedrooms…they fit perfectly, so there they have stayed forever.

I told you this little story, because now Dad has taken to rearranging the ditches.

Well, really only one ditch—it’s slightly crooked, you see.  And he wants to ‘square up’ the field.

It’s the MUD ditch!  Mom’s least favorite ditch to work from.   But in order to have the Mud ditch moved a few feet we had to get the ditch ready to move come March.


First we had to pick up all the syphon tubes, remove the gated pipe and the dams.

Then we had to move the one stick of gated pipe…hard job.  It’s still out there waiting for Mom and Dad to go get it.


But nothing was as hard as removing the culvert between the cement ditch and the gated pipe.


The carefully cemented in culvert had to be chopped-out.  One smack at a time.

I hung around while they did the syphon tubes, but that cement stuff seemed to take forever.  Therefore, I checked out the deer, the pheasants, all the Quail…rabbits….you understand.  NEWS!


When I got back they were ready to haul two loads of the broken cement up to the head gate. (Dad is trying to shore-up the banks so they don’t keep washing away.


Up we went —  back we came, and up we went again.

I didn’t jump off; just waited there guarding the four-wheeler and the cement chunks from angry badgers or something.


Boomer…the best Guard dog on the farm!



The Last Lovely Smile—Thursday, September 22, 2016

“Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.”–William Cullen Bryant

corn-drying-downThe farm is exploding with the simple joy of Fall.  The scents are an intoxicating mix of drying corn leaves, dusty weeds; the air so buoyant it feels like a carnival.

fall-flowersFall has it’s own mix of flowers; washing over the land to collide with the changing of the leaves upon the trees


A walk, or ride, or to work on the land is like staring into a world being created by Picasso or Dr. Seuss.

fall-on-the-farm-roadThe nights are cool, with morning bordering on cold

golden-hairThe golden corn sings and sighs in the breezes and protests mighty in heavy winds

storms-coming-inA storm came in on Wednesday the air hazy with the promise of moisture. The clouds brooding and sullen, dropping rain in the canyons. Not a good thing with harvest.

weed-seedsStill the weeds, the grasses, and all the plants and flowers sing out HOPE!  Hope for the coming of Spring.  Hope for the new dawn of awaking, after a long rest in winter.

After all Hope never dies out.

From my world to your heart,



A Prairie Rainbow—-Wednesday, September 21, 2016

A most stunning— wide and full —  rainbow filled the prairie at Wardlow, Alberta, Canada


Linda Pierson, from Just Another Day on the Prairie was the photographer of this stunning rainbow on her ranch.

What an amazing rainbow this is!  Thank you, Linda, for letting me share this will my readers!

Your friend on a Western Colorado farm,


Summer’s Ghost—-Tuesday, September 20, 2016


The bees are very busy now…flying back to the hives, their bodies covered with pollen; the droning sound they make so much a part of the landscape one must pay attention to hear it.

fushiaThe company of the plants are still soothing to the eyes and the soul

seedsBut the signs are there; spangling the edges, hurrying the plants along, pushing and a nudging–to set seeds — prepare for that long sleep called winter

zinniaThe autumn winds will soon arrive, rustling across the plateau, through the canyons and bursting forth upon our mesa—flinging dry leaves across the land, stripping the trees bare

dotsFor now the rooted silence is a sort of balm to my spirit and to the earth

more-dotsBut the hint of fall is still there….a flicker out the corner of your eye, a tingle at the back your neck

leavesYellow leaves


Float quick and light, reflecting back to the wind, the earth and the sky the soon to be ghost of Summer.

From my world to your heart,