by dishpantheism

been visiting father nearly every day. i may be wearing out my welcome with all of my comings and goings. but there are so many chores need doing. my father is by no means helpless but he certainly doesn’t need to be trudging the hills in 105 degree heat trying to mow the needle grass down. this morning before i went into the cabin to say hello i walked up one of the draws a ways. a few mountain garlands have bloomed. shrunken petals. the bird’s eye gilia and chinese houses have fared better on the north slope. found a freakishly dark gilia all on its lonesome. watched a pair of butterflies turn into a trio. flew in and out of elderflower umbels. cow-killers at my feet. heard a commotion and peered over my left shoulder. a jay on a low oak bough behind me read me the riot act. when i turned back the trio of butterflies was inches from my nose. could hear the clashing of their wings. could see very clearly the checks of black and yellow. pocketed sage. blow-wives and woolly bear chaff. some of the mature sargent cypress mom and dad grew from seed are dying for lack of water. 

acquired forty suffolk cross fleeces. they aren’t prime fibers but they were free and plentiful and the rancher was extremely pleased to give them to me. told me to come back next year and take those too. last time he burned them. seems such a waste. i should have taken photos of his amazing barns all covered with skulls and baby doll heads. but i didn’t. spent most of the afternoon loading fleeces on pallets and then skirting four of them on bedsheets in the shade. i don’t know how i’ll ever process them all on my own. i suppose like with any other large task i’ll just have to keep plugging away. hopefully the weather cools a bit. hopefully the bath remedies my odor of sheep grease and suint and horehound.