Monday June 15 2009

This is Mary, Judi's high school friend, Lynn and Judi. We ate lunch together on Monday at Rendezvous Pointe - spaghetti dinner.

Joe Walking Back to the House After Irrigating

Contentment - Antelope chewing his cud

Grasshopper Sparrow


.

Today I went to the Arrowhead House in Pinedale. I'll spiff the place up a little for Betty and Nancy's visit. They should arrive on Friday. At 2 p.m. Got vacuuming and some dusting done. Takes a while to get everything turned on and back off. So found right away that the phone wasn't working, dead as a door nail. Called Sandy at Centurytel several times. Tried unplugging and resetting, but still dead Neither was the internet working right, but after resetting that it did download some messages, then got stuck with no internet. Gave that up. No TV either, finally found that I needed to plug the receiver back in - duh! Thought I could watch a movie on the DVD player, and never could get power going to it. Gave up that too. I had a haircut appointment in the afternoon. She really cut it short so it's spiky again. Bought a baked chicken breast for dinner and a couple other things to stick in the fridge. Then at 3 p.m. Mike came and installed the sliding door shade. We had also ordered a shade for the very small mud room window. Now all the windows have shades. Called both the kids. I stayed overnight there because tomorrow Bonnie and I will go to Jackson for my blood work and a doctor checkup. That way the day won't be so long. Joe says he will stay at the ranch with the dogs.

WHEN DEATH COMES
.
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes
and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes

like the measle-pox
when death comes like an iceberg
between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity,
wondering: what is it going to be like,
that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage,
and something precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life

something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

Mary Oliver