Our little Subaru refused to start Friday. I was due in to work, where all new-logo hell was breaking loose. Not good. I called Em and Richard and they came out and saved me. Bless their hearts. What lovely people. R. had been up since 3, worked most of the day, then came up and wrangled the car. At one point he drove 30 miles back to town and swapped the wrong part for the right one (does Napa ever give you the right part the first time?). He finished up near midnight. C., being a tiny person, crawled under the car to undo some bolts. My contribution during all of this was to hold a flashlight, fetch a tool or two, and play with the baby. The baby was sweet, funny and charming. As usual. And horribly cute in his moo-cow jammies.
Man, I hate being without the car. Freaks me out as much as breaking my glasses. (You'd have to be familiar with a certain episode of the Twilight Zone, with Burgess Meredith, to understand.)
We're probably past the point of cranking the windows and doors open in the evening to cool the place off. I guess I'll start buttoning things up for winter. Getting wood is the next big thing, along with hauling everything in from the garden as it ripens. We've had quite a few smallish tomatoes, but none of the big meaty ones have reddened yet. Not a great tomato year, but not a terrible tomato year, I hope.
Three eggs today. And I'm heading up the hill soon to buy milk and eggs from Rose (two gallons of milk, one dozen eggs).
We brought Crystal in for a good brushing and a little plucking. What a sweet rabbit. Then C. got out the vacuum and chased little parachutes of bunny fuzz through the air.
The chicks are thriving. The Hairdos, Dovey's spring chicks, are turning out to be mostly roosters, dammit. Big, striped gay roosters with helmet hair.
OK, I'm off to start the annual wood ritual with the Gathering of the Kindling.