Yesterday was National Soup Day, so my company had anyone
who was willing to do so prepare their favorite soup to share at a luncheon for
all who were in the office. There were eleven soups on the table, and I am sure
all of them were delicious, but I was not able to sample each one. I did manage
to sample six of the offerings and enjoyed each one I did taste. It was a potluck
lunch that was right down my alley. I love soups. I sampled chicken chili, minestrone,
broccoli and cheese soup, tomato soup, seaweed soup, and of course, I tasted the
soup I had taken to make sure it was okay.
I made the chicken and dumpling soup that Mama and I enjoy.
I was pleased when I went to get my crock pot at the end of the day and found
it completely empty. I was told a few minutes later that three ladies had had a
spirited discussion about who would get to take what was left of the soup home
for dinner. I do not know who won the argument, but it was made easy to collect
because I used a crock pot protector bag when I put the soup into the crock pot
after I had prepared it in another pot on the stovetop. To get the remaining contents
to take home, the lucky winner simply gathered the plastic liner like a bag and
knotted it. Mama was hoping for leftovers of the soup but that did not happen.
Twice now, Grandma has witnessed the outside dogs chasing
cows in the field across the road. I do not doubt what she has seen but I had
not, to date, witnessed it myself. However, this afternoon at lunch I saw the cows
coming into the far corner of the field where there had been chased by the dogs
and the dogs, Gemma first, began to bark and move toward the field. I yelled to
the both of them and thankfully they stopped immediately. Dolly came to me in a
very submissive way so I fussed at her and fussed over her for a few minutes. A
few minutes later, a truck towing a field feeder came down the road to spread
cubes out for the cows in the quarry area. Again, I stopped Gemma and Dolly
from responding and waited outside as the bull – last in line of the cattle returning
across the field – lumbered up to and then followed the truck back onto the larger
property. I do not know if I made any difference in the dogs newly discovered
game of cow running, but I tried.
It is not allowable for dogs to run cows for fun. So far,
the two of them have been tolerated by the landowner and the lease holders, but
chasing cows will be so poorly viewed that we might lose both of the dogs if
Mama and I cannot stop them from continuing to do so. I myself have shot dogs
that were running cattle on my own property back in West Virginia so I would
not have protested if one of my own dogs was shot when engaged in the same bad
practice. I hope we can win this little skirmish with our dogs, but I am not
overly confident.
Mama had to take Grandma and Grandpa out for their monthly ritual
of getting money orders to pay bills as well as doing some banking that is
carried out every month after payday, the third Wednesday of every month. It is
the one-time Grandpa has to be stern with Grandma. They have only one check
coming per month and they have many little bills to cover with that fixed
amount, so even though there is money in the bank, there is not enough to blow
on little shiny things that catch Grandma’s eyes. Most of Grandma’s trinkets
are things that can be given to others – cards, knick-knacks, mementos. The challenge
is that there is not the required money to cover all of her requests as well as
the postage needed to send those items to their recipients, so they work out
how much they can do this month and leave the rest undone until next month. It
is amusing to watch the interactions each month when the two of them are
dealing with their limited money income.
I am continuously surprised by how much Grandpa is able to
do with that little income.
0 comments:
Post a Comment