What A Difference a Day Makes!

By the time I arrived home yesterday afternoon, the raging river twinning our road was now reduced to this.

After taking this photo, I headed back to the house, and there on the far side of the pond was our summer resident, the blue heron. He's very cool. He's also very shy. I went up on the deck to try and get a decent photo of him, without the willow tree blocking the view. A nature photographer I will not make; I was distracted for a moment and when I turned around, he had disappeared into thin air.

What could possibly distract me while there is a majestic bird in my backyard, you ask? It was this.

Not just one, mind you, but hundreds or more. The western wall of the old farmhouse was covered with loudly buzzing flies basking in the warm sun. Me no like this very much. The Artist shrugged his shoulders, and said something about getting lots of flies when you live in the country. Whoa!!! I didn't sign up for this! I signed up for quiet, lazy Sunday afternoons, getting dirty in the garden, tapping the maples, raising chickens, and other 'country stuff'' like that. Nobody told me becoming a country girl would include fly breeding. Up to now, I thought I had this thing licked, a real piece of cake becoming a country girl and all. Boy was I wrong.

And then, I really showed just how much of the city girl is still left in me. 

We went for a walk along the rail trail and looped back through a small village nearby. As we were rounding a corner, I heard a clicking noise. It sounded like a film projector. That seemed sorta, kinda odd but then I looked over to the barn down the opposite lane way and there smack dab on the side of the barn was this blue and white flashing light and I realized what it was! I shouted out to the Artist and the male twin, 'they're playing a movie on the side of that barn over there!' 

You can see it in the photo below underneath the word HERE. The barn makes a pretty cool outdoor screen don't you think?

No sooner had I put that out there for the whole village to hear, when the Artist looked at me, let out a small sigh with a delicate slump of the shoulders and said, "that's an arc welder!" and then began to laugh so hard I thought I might have to carry him home. And if you really must know, no, I was not wearing my glasses.

What can I say? I may be able to spell lots of farm related words, but when it comes to living in the country, that Artist guy has me beat.

Be well friends!