Scaresly made any stops on the way north. Instead of the scads of wild Dwarf and/or Roosevelt Elk, there was only this one Rooseveldt stag, traveling - well, he was traveling stag (his pun, not mine).
He was mowing his way across someone's front yard; a BIG boy he was too.
Crescent City is just a hair short of the Oregon Border. I picked up some Thai food and dashed over to my friend Inez. We had a chatty picnic in her back yard - I'm talking Olympic quality chatting here - and when the sun dipped below the pines we were tucked into our sleeping bags (seen the background of the photo below), watching bats flittering around as they chased moths and other bat dinner selections.
Inez having a rest
Believe it or not, in Olympic chatting, Inez would take the gold and I'd be slinking home with a bronze, at best. Inez is a teller of tales and this go-round she told me what has happened to her since she left her last job - a stunning and facinating story that I asked, no, demanded she write down for a book. Honestly, chatting doesn't get any better than a chat with Inez. She writes Gopher Gulch for Crescent City's paper, the Triplicate. I added her nook to my links list.
Next morning we ate creamy rice pudding for breakfast, watching the wild birds squabbling over birdseed on her front lawn. Then I was off south to Eureka.
In the Eureka area, in the eensie little hilltop town of Kneeland I visited my friends the Aggelers; Jennifer & Rick, daughter Carolanne (home from the University of Utah for the summer). She's working the summer as her Mom's 'girl Friday'. Jennifer is a lucky duck who works out of her home doing captioning and such, while Carolann is her brilliant technical 'nerd' and I mean that at the highest level of the meaning. While I was visiting, daddy Rick was bulldozing, flattening a slope behind Carolann's cabin where one day Jennifer tells me she hopes to house yaks! I'm pretty excited about those future additions to their critters.
It was a nice visit and I got to meet the newest, unexpected member of the clan, who hasn't even got a name just yet. Jennifer spins & knits and has angora rabbits who generously supply her with nice soft angora wools in several lovely colors. Anyway, Jen's oldest bunny is 9 years old and that is VERY old for a bunny. Just about the time Jennifer was expecting the old gal to give up the ghost, what did the old hunny-bunny do? She dug a nursery den, lined it with straw and bunny wool and had a kit, that is, a baby bun-bun.
You can see the little darling in sitting in his favorite spot, right on his mama's back. He is all black checkers on a field of white. Isn't hims cute? I'm voting for him to be named Checkers.
While at Jennifer's I picked up my long abandoned Baby Wolf loom. I've missed it and have high hopes this winter of producing a scarf or two or even something more daring. What would that be - a placemat?