eight miniblogs

  1. Yesterday was a typically crazy day for Beau.  In the morning he hosted a “safety advisor” from Montana State Fund, the outfit that handles workers’ compensation claims.  Beau said the gal from State Fund nearly fainted when he toured her through the shop here at the PV, so overwhelmed she was by all the safety issues!  State Fund departed about noon, and within minutes the “stream reclamation expert” from the ranch’s corporate office showed up.  He and Beau ate lunch here, then spent the rest of the day touring waterways of concern on the PV.  (I believe they may also have been scouting for turkeys, since the guys from the corporate office love to come down here to hunt turkeys.)  Along about a quarter after eight in the evening, still no word from Beau, and I got to thinking of the blog I wrote a couple years ago, when we lived at the VX:  When to panic?.  (Beau and the fella did make it in by 9 p.m.)  In my humble opinion this ranch has bigger issues to deal with than stream reclamation, but probably nobody cares what I think.  Sigh.  It’s so tough being the straw boss.


2.  Sweet, creamy coffee continues to be my poison.  Sometimes I think to myself, Tami Jo, this is ridiculous.  How do you think you’re going to lose that baby weight if you’re sucking down cream and sugar?  So occasionally I refuse to buy cream at the grocery store, thinking that if there’s none in the house I won’t be so tempted.  But then I have no incentive for getting out of the bed in the morning!  So, as of yesterday, I have officially allowed/limited myself to one (very large) cup of sweet, creamy coffee per day, and only because I need it to comfort myself in the earliest hour.  We recommend French presses, by the way — unless you’re feeding a crew of cowboys, and then I recommend a church urn.



3.  I got my hair cut short yesterday, while my mom stayed with the kids.  It’s a relief.  It means I have only two unruly manes to tame today:



4.  Speaking of these Blake kids, some of my girlfriends admire my patience and/or believe I’m totally quacky because I let my kids cook with me.  But you know, I have to keep them busy somehow while I’m flitting about the kitchen… and they can actually be a lot of help.  I figure they can’t make any bigger mess than I would all by myself, seeing as how I’m known in some circles as the world’s messiest cook.  (On this day, below, we made chicken fried steak and gravy with mashed potatoes for the crew, only because I could only find cube steaks in the freezer, but the gravy was actually a home run, and I can say hands-down that the men appreciated this meal more than anything else I’ve cooked in the last six months.  Make this stuff for a man in your life today.  Be sure to get flour all over the kitchen.)



5.  They say moisture begets moisture.  Must be the explanation for these thunder-boomers we’ve been getting every evening?



6.  A couple days ago we received a graduation announcement from the young man who was the ring-bearer in our wedding, which was 15 years ago.  The previous sentence is full of impossibilities.  Wish we could teleport; if so, we’d be in Greensboro, Alabama later this month.



7.  He rolls over now.  He is growing before our eyes.



8.  The bums say howdy.  (I have observed that babies of any species really aren’t so different one from another.)


© Tami Blake

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