Fencing

I am hoping no crisis occurs today (it has been an entire week in crisis mode it seems) to stop Liz, Alan and me from getting at the heifer pasture fence today. The boss is going bargain hunting over at McFadden's spring auction today so he won't be here. Wish he was handy with the camera so he could take some pics of the marvel that is that sale. It is one amazing farm machinery auction with hundreds of tractors and implements and probably thousands of people. Quite a sight to see, although not at all my cup of tea.

And I was wondering and pondering this morning as I made my first cup of coffee and looked into Grandpa Lachmayer's eyes in his photo by the stove.....do he and Grandma and Great Aunt Lulu and Uncle Mack play pinochle in Heaven? Do they sit around a small, square table, laughing and slapping cards together and talking about the huge McGivern/Lachmayer clan? They used to get a real bang out of playing cards at camp when we were kids. Although the game still makes no sense at all to me and certainly didn't then, we felt secure hanging around under the card table with our toys or petting Great Aunt Lulu's funny little Boston terriers and pugs. Can you remember back when somebody else was the grown up and you could rely on them to take care of the hard decisions for you? And make lunch (even if you hated egg salad)? And keep an eye that you didn't go astray? I can remember always being desperate to get outside and catch frogs in the tiny rivulet that flowed across in front of the camp.....they must have hated to see me coming.
Sometimes I miss that sense of being cared for.