Sherlock Boomer—-What Mom Doesn’t Know, Chapter Two, Friday, June 19, 2020

Chapter Two


Okay, enough is enough!

I’ve slept the sleep of the dead. I’ve slept on the kitchen floor where I can keep cool.

I’ve slept in my warm Boomer Sofa where I can stay warm.

I’ve slept out in my bedroom where I can stretch out and roll around.


I’m tired of sleeping.

Just say’n


I pushed the back door open, picked up my bum leg, and hopped outside!

There is news out here just I know!

Let’s see check this out.

Now check this out

What’s over here.

OKAY!  That’s enough.  Time to move off the step.

Into the Garden, I go

Look this way

And That


Raccoon…during the night.

Always. RACCOON in the Garden!  BAYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Oh! Hi Mom!

Raccoon in your garden

Go figure.  Mom doesn’t understand Beaglie talk.

Oh, Well…I’ve known that for years.

Oh! Here comes Dad!

“Come on Boomer!  Let’s go!” Mom called me.

You Bet!

Fat Man’s Misery —- Wednesday, June 19, 2019

My oldest daughter took her dogs and went for a walk at the canyon a short ways from us

It one of those magic places where the gentlest of soughing winds play down the canyon floors

And graffiti is slashed and cut and painted onto the canyon walls

But in spite of the human’s destruction.  The area still feels like the desert faeries live there in the warm Earth and celebrate life.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,





Thoughts on the ‘Art of Making Choices’—-Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Have you ever thought on the art of making choices?

Yesterday, while I worked in my yard,

In the huffing and blowing in the very warm late spring—nearly summer— wind

That silly little thought kept running around in my mind….. ‘what is the art of making choices’?  I pondered from one garden bed to another

The wind flipped my hair here and there and everywhere, little bits of soil flying into my eyes

By the time I made it to the west side of the yard, I could hear the wind in the trees down at the other house.

Gradually, the wind slowed enough I could hear the bird’s singing in the rosebushes, and high in the tops of the trees in our yard

Still, I wondered: what is the art of making choices?

Finally, I decided…there is no art.  You do the best you can do.

Every once in awhile you will make a wrong choice.  Everyone does.

But no choice is never a good thing.  With choosing ‘no choice’ we are choosing to not live, to experience, to be full and present in our lives.

From my world to your heart,



Watching Very Hard—-Monday, June 19, 2017

For two days and two nights we got to have our youngest granddaughter.

She is amazing help.

Always willing to do something; whatever we are doing.  Always asking:  “is there anything I can do to help you—or can I help you Grandpa”?

She goes with us braving the mosquitoes and deer fly, plus those nasty biting little horse flies.

Taking her little red shovel— helping move the water down the rows– making that big warm farmer’s heart in her grandpa swell with pride.

Jumping carefully over the just sprouting pinto beans, we hear her laughing delightedly.

Then just before the dark closes  in completely she and grandpa would go for a fast, breath-catching four-wheeler ride, me following along behind….way behind so Boomer and I didn’t eat dust.  Clear to the Rocky Point, then home again.

Today we are back to just ‘ourselves’ and our normal routines.

For a little while, we were young once more filling our days with work and play that only a 9 year can bring.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,


It’s Good Fences Thursday— June 19, 2014

(The white roses in my yard are beautiful right now)

I know this is weird, but I like cemeteries.  I love the feeling of peace and calm that prevails. If our town would have ever hired a woman as a caretaker for the cemetery I would have liked to be that person.

I like cemeteries so much I do research for people interested in getting a photo of a headstone in their family.  I also help find people who have lost the knowledge they have an empty plot in a local cemetery.

My children have grown up waling around with me looking for this headstone or that.  They have also grown up reading the headstones…some are very sad.

Delta is a fairly young town —established in 1883, so our stones only go back that far.

Every month I go to the two in our town, refreshing the the faded silks flowers I placed upon the many graves of family.


On my last visit I realized that the corner fences would work perfectly for The Run*A*Round Ranch’s Good Fences and Gates Thursday.

I felt that these corner fences do a nice job of keeping people off the grass and corralling the stone…:)  Just a joke…please don’t send hate email!

If you would like to visit Theresa and her many blogging friends and there fences (and gates) head over here.  While you are there post a fence or two of your own!  Good fences always make good neighbors; in this case neighbors from around the globe!

Your friend,



June 19, 2013

Since it has been so hot we drove up to Lee’s Reservoir for a morning of relaxation.


The dogs loved the swim and everyone loved the break.

Sometimes you just have to get away for a couple of hours.  In this case we took three hours out of the day.  When we got back the wind was blowing with gusts up to 30 m.p.h.

The weather people are saying we can expect the same again today.  The wind should help in clearing out all the smoke which came in over-night from the fire in Utah.


Fire is such a sad part of summer.