The Adventures of TLC Cai-Cai on Friday—-Farm Life Series Chapter 11, The Third Season, SUMMER Rain, or, Friday, February 18, 2020

Or the lack-there-of RAIN!  Usually, the weather people say scattered thunderstorms or rain showers are expected.

Which means, in the mountains, not right here on the farm.

Each and every day Mom goes about with a huge smile on her face…’ it’s Summer, TLC My Cai-Cai…the very best time of the year’! She says to me.

She has GOT to be kidding!

Sometimes the temperatures run right up and over 100*f. Even the shade melts.

I know. I’ve tried sitting in it.

Dad, says ‘it’s so hot it is hard to DO ANYTHING.’

Boy, do I ever agree!!!

Mom is crazy…

she goes about SINGING!

Mom is crazy.

Yes, she is.

Pant, pant, puff, puff

TLC Cai-Cai

Grey Day, Grey Clouds, Grey Everything —- Thursday, February 18, 20221

All-day Tuesday the grey sky hung dark and threatening.

(Taken December 2015, but very much current anyway)   

Splatters of snow and sleet–then melt — then repeat.

But, if you are Min-Min—you know how to stay warm and dry.

HUGE SMILE here when I found her in the project car!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,


A Heavy Swooshing Sound — Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Standing on the Rocky Point, Beaglie and I saw masses of Sandhill Cranes resting on our neighbor’s farm–when they saw us several lifted off, causing the air to swoosh with the flapping of their wings.

Back on our farm, we came across a giant flock resting, waiting, resting.

The sounds are majestic and powerful!

Big birds…they rather brighten the long winter days!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,



Today I Have Been Remembering My Beloved Dead—-Monday, February 18, 2019

In particular my maternal grandparents, Bill and Ruth Thomas

My memories have made that wee curtain into a thin and frayed veil

Although my grandparents are now shadows in my memory, they are still with me as more than whispers in my heart and soul

I welcome them — these gifts from beyond

When my mother was growing up (in the Great Depression) my grandparents had a home and a business in Corona, New Mexico.  Which at the time had a railroad station and was a throughway onto bigger places.

Granddad’s business was a gas station and garage.

Will built it with his own hands, and he built the house they lived in.

  Grandma planted Heavenly Blue morning glories on either side of the front porch and they put a white picket fence in front of the house.

The back yard was just fenced in.

Anyway…one of the stories I keep remembering fondly is the tramps would ride the rails into town jump off and then look for places to eat or live or just hang out until jumping back on the train.

Or the people moving from the Dust Bowl broken and frequently so discouraged to almost seem dead, having to stop because of vehicle problems.

My grandfather never believed in giving a man a hand-out or credit.  If you couldn’t pay or were desperate he always had you work — sweep the floor, help to do ‘something’.  He would tell Danny (my brother) and I:  “A hand-out never gives a person self-respect.  Always, always give them self-respect THEN help them out.  And when you help them out, it’s okay to give the shirt off your back, because it always, always comes back to you in a different way.”

Now, back at the house, just up the road a short way, and not far from the railroad tracks, Grandma always kept a big pot of soup on the wood stove.  If a person came hallooing at the front gate, either she or Momma would ask the person in, dish up a big bowl of soup sit it in front of the person with a hunk of buttered cornbread.

Then the person would doff their hat (for almost always the person was a man) say: “Thankee, Ma’am, sure is a fine meal.) And move on out the back gate heading toward the gas station to see Mister Will.

Now, since most activities were in the back of the house and through the iron gate back there Momma and her family never really went to the front of the house. But one day Momma had walked down to the garage and decided to come back to the house through the front picket fence gate.

When she got there she was surprised to see lines scratched into the pickets next to the front gate line which looked like this IIII  IIII  IIII

Running into the house she brought her mother back out who just stood there non-plussed.  Not knowing why or what it meant she sent Momma down to the Garage to get Will.

When Will got back and looked at the fence he broke out in laughter.  “Well, I’ll be,” he declared…”Now I understand why we get so many folks eating soup.”  The drifters marked the fence letting folks know here is a good place to eat and where to get a small job.

Memories…a small tear in the veil from beyond,

From my heart to your world,


The Nicest Word There is—-Sunday, February 18, 2018

“Home is the nicest word there is.”–Laura Ingalls Wilder

We are back!  🙂  With wonderful suntans, lots of blue sunshine and exciting adventures in our memories.

Our sunrises and sunsets are much, much different.

And our time with our grandchildren

In warp speed

We got back, justin time to take in two of Blade’s last basketball games and Linkin’s very last game of the year.

Our vacation was wonderful, watching the grandkids special, hanging out with MIndy Cat and Boomer Beaglie Brown, perfect…

In two weeks farming starts.  Life is good.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,


Popping Up all Over—-Thursday, February 18, 2016

It’s trying to rain here.  Breezy and cold with scattered showers.

Cold-front-coming-inI saw a very weak sundog yesterday… which, usually, means cooler to even down-right-cold weather within three days.

Still all in all Spring is coming.  The Red-Winged Blackbirds are back, I’ve been seeing flocks of Blue Birds and then yesterday, when out counting calves, there  was a pair of Western Meadow Larks sitting on the fence as I passed by.  YAY!

OneWe have 80 soon-to-be-momma’s here on the Maternity Ward.  🙂   Yesterday evening I had only counted five new little ones.

TwoBut this morning, as the cows woke-up and started walking toward our house, I counted 9 baby calves.  I’m pretty sure there are more, but I haven’t walked over the whole farm to see how many there really are.

ThreeOh the joy of Spring and new little critters!  Soon we won’t be a Maternity Ward but a NURSERY!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,