Changed the hay in the chicken house. The hay is kept in Dean's shop, which he made quite plain when we put up the shop ten years ago that nothing but his tools would go in there...well, that was before the chickens and before the guy next door was going to burn some older hay...Dean made the decision that we'd take some of those bales off his hands and so well, he also made the decision, which was the only one where they would go. So now every time he heads over to the shop he's trailing at least half a dozen chickens who know where the hay is kept and love climbing up on the bales and having a good chat at the same time. Oh, the difference things are when they are our own ideas instead of ideas put upon us. And I understand this I really do...I mean if I would have said, Dean we have to have that hay and it has to go in your shop it would have been like swimming up stream in the Columbia with the snow melt of winter with an outgoing tide.
It's a sunny warm day and we are out mowing and trimming and things. I love days like this; I can think my life is almost perfect on day like this, which is a good thing but then I don't like feeling like I'm like the weather, changeable to the extent on not being rooted. Now having said that I'm thinking of the bamboo that we transplanted today; it was a small stand of bamboo, taken from a large, one of the large stands of bamboo and so the roots wouldn't wander Dean surrounded the roots of the bamboo with metal sheeting so the roots couldn't spread but oh it was not a happy bamboo it was bamboo in bondage and last summer it wilted and I'd water it. Today we moved it and it's a happy bamboo stand now and will grow so my point is the bamboo in wind; it bends over a lot; I mean like almost parallel to the ground so what I'm getting at is maybe what I'm calling 'changeable' is really flexible. Now if I were an old oak or one of the ancient sequoias (one almost three thousand years old by the way) I wouldn't bend at all; not my trunk, oh my branches could sway and my leaves make wonderful sounds rustling against on another but I'd be standing straight and unmoving and I have to say that is a reason I like old trees; they're sold they well rooted. So, I'm thinking maybe I'm like bamboo, which is not a tree but really a grass....so I'm tall grass that sways in the wind and doesn't break. Now bamboo that is not well rooted will die off if not watered in a dry summer. It would seem them that I'm talking about roots; being well rooted is a good thing. I do believe it is. Of course you could be a tree in a contained and then way you could be moved about without possibility of root damage but then you'd be contained, but not well grounded. Oh, the thought that tumbled through you mind on a day like this with cut grass between your toes and a little sun burn going on. Love to all who dared to have read this long!