The Days Of Wyrd

Which it was.  Yesterday it rained briefly for the first time in FOREVER.  Which was good. 

I was busy all week.  Busy taking care of a family member who has become ill.  Busy setting up for my summerly garage sale.  Busy getting yet another rental ready. Busy watering plants, cooking mass amounts of food for the weekend, (nine loaves of bread, two kinds of cookies, macaroni salad, and a partridge in a pear treeeee).

Too busy to post to you about the  4.2 earthquake that Oregon had the day before yesterday.  Or the 5.4 earthquake that occured in L.A., California yesterday (among several somewhat smaller others). Or about the forked horn, still in the velvet that greeted my husband at the mail box.  Or about the young doe I saw trapsing about libby.

Yet not too busy to take a picture of this young granny smith in my backyard.  I probably should have been doing something constructive instead, like washing the wall to wall dirty dishes that had accumulated.  Or putting up the groceries so you could walk through the kitchen.  I'll have to think about it a little longer before I jump to any hasty conclusions.

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There are at least 12 different kinds of lillies here at the Wyrd Ranch, and each blooms at a different time.  Pretty much one kind right after the other.  These particular ones are trumpet lillies.  We have 5 different kinds of just these.  The rest are Asiatics and Orientals.  Which are different.  Or so they tell me.  And Easter Lillies.  Which probably belong to the above families of lillies.  I really don't remember now.  All of these beauties get together and stink up my area quite wonderously.

I have a few tiger lillies and daylillies as well.  These don't make me as happy as the others.  So I shall be sending them away by the end of the summer.  The look.  Scraggly.

In other earth shaking news:  we had a 4.1 earthquake 300 miles WNW of Barview, Oregon today.

Posted by Wyrd at 04:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

That the Federal Government owns most of Oregon?  (53.1% to be exact)

That the King of Jordan ate a mushroom, swiss cheese burger and onion rings at the Kozy Kitchen in Myrtle Point?  I went through there a month ago and I had THE EXACT SAME THING.  I hope his food was better.  *Ahem*.  He was riding a Harley, btw.  I should send him a  S&M Barbie.

And most importantly, that our Coos County Icon, Crazy Theresa was spotted (bye me) hanging outside of McDonald's last week?  

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Two earthquakes last night, off the coast of Oregon, a 5.7 and a 5.5, approx. 260 miles WNW of Barview.

Wow.

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Two earthquakes right in a row, so far.  A 4.1 magnitude that is 305 miles WNW of Coos Bay, Oregon and a 4.4 magnitude 260 miles West of Waldport, Oregon.

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It's hot folks.  H-O-T.  My middle name is now, water-the-garden.  And the garden thanks me.  With tons of smelly, pretty flowers.  Carnations, Oswego Tea, snapdragons that smell like jolly ranchers, roses, lillies, lobelia, crimson mullien.  Everything is blooming, even the little hostas. And herbs galore.  Greens.  Mint for my juleps.  If I had juleps.  Is juleps a body part?  Wait.  Am I missing something?

 I worked on transplanting my lemon cucumbers yesterday.  They are my cucumber favorite.  My husband requested they be grown in our garden last year, because his paternal grandfather always grew them.  So I did, thinking they wouldn't amount to much.  NOT TRUE.  They were huge little globes of delightfully fresh, crisp watery cucumberness that grew wonderfully, even when I stuck them in too-little of pots.   One of the nice things about transplanting these cukes is that as you repot them you smell this wonderful fresh cucumber fragrance.  And it will make you happy.  Honest.

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It could be a week long beach event.  One that has been, on second thought, changed from "blast" to "fest".  To defer from it's true meaning, which is a description of the weather at this point in the summer.  SAND.  BLAST.  Ninety something temperatures and gusts of about 80.  And not short, cool bursts, more like big, hot sustained bellows.

I did not go myself, having participated in the past I regard it as not fun but more like "days in a hellish environment".  Days with tons of drunken 4-wheeler riding tourists and blowing hot sand just really aren't the kinds of things that make me happy.

And don't even think of making a trip to the emergency room if you want back out this year.  The hospital is full of 4-wheeler drivers.  Mostly kids.

No Sirreee, I shall stay at the farm, watch my jalapenos grow, perfect my chai tea popsicle recipe and entertain my visitors.

Posted by Wyrd at 08:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Instead of going camping around in the State in search of beautiful scenery and fireworks (which in Coos County and along the coast are staggered so that onlookers may participate in several gatherings), we opted to stay close to home and celebrate. 

We ventured over to the parental home for a nice family gathering and huge fire-pit barbeque.  Where else could we enjoy a private party with a view of Charleston, the bay, the bar, and south slough.  Plus the family is rich with wonderful cooks who bring many fine ass-fattening dishes.  I myself was instructed to bring "something chocolate".  And so I did.  Chocolate cheesecake with an oreo crust.  I melted a bag of caramels with a half a cup of heavy cream, added a cup of chopped walnuts, and poured it over the crust.  On top of that went the cheesecake.  Frosted with a dark chocolate ganache.  Had I been blessed with more time and a higher pan I would have added more layers.  Which was unnecessary.  Totally.

Also, Mr Wyrd took a few days extra off to work on the new greenhouse he is building me.  So in between planting more beans and peas outside and watering, I was repotting my greenhouse babies for the trip to their new house.  

On the actual day of the 4th, there were not as many people around and about as is usual.  Also, local neighborhood firework activity was down by about 90%.  It could be because our drunken neighbor has left for Alaska for work for several months.  Or it could be the $600 something fine that has been layed upon those who have fireworks that shoot more than 3 feet off the ground, (like all of them).  Which the police insisted they were going to inforce. 

Whatever.

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