How in the world do white horses enter into this blog? Well, white horses are rare, like shooting stars. The next time you see one, make a wish. Wishing, dreaming, pursuing is the first step toward achieving your heart's desire.
What will you find on these pages? Talk about life. I'm “The Scout,” as in the covered wagon days, when a rider went out to search the terrain for danger, or for the best water, or the safest camping place.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Iris and Bubbles and Weenies, Oh My
We're going that-a-way across the Upland Prairie, across the iris field and into the woods--aka forests of Oregon.
An Upland Prairie will be claimed by the forest--or blackberries, if not kept open as my son-in-law has done by keeping it mowed.
A Trunk Sprout. This Madrone tree was caught in the forest fire last year, and look, it is making a baby.
When son-in-law builds a weenie-roasting fire, he goes all out.
Too hot to handle.
Roasting a weenie from beneath a space blanket.
Blowing Snake Bubbles
This is so cool. Cut the bottom off a water bottle, cover with a sock, duck tape it securely, dip sock in a solution of 2 parts water 1 part #Dial Dishwashing Soap, blow into drinking spout of bottle. Viola' bubbles, strong enduring bubbles. Be sure to blow, not inhale.
Catching the fire updraft.
Bubbles flying high
And bubbles on the ground.
Doggie gets a weenie too.
This was my most relaxing mother's day ever. I hope your's was glorious. Joyce