That Year End Wrap Up Post

2016 started out hopeful... kind of went straight to hell from there but ended on a decent note.  I gained many experiences.  I'm going to trust that the ones I didn't enjoy and don't see the reason for are truly needful in some plan bigger than me.

So just what did I do?

I started saying "YES" to the adventures that presented themselves.  I went out and explored myself instead of waiting for a human companion.  I took more pictures because this world is an icredibly beautiful place.  I talked to strangers and listened to their stories of how life led them from where they were to where they are now.  I healed my soul a bit more and got a little closer to actually being me again.

I experienced some firsts. Even at my age there are lots of first times left!

• visited 13 states - AL, SC, VA, MD, WV, and PA for the first time
• tasted hominy, sauerkraut, bok choy, fish sauce and persimmon
• tried some new combinations of food - kidney beans and potatoes fried together, turnips cooked with beef, potatoes, onion, celery and carrots in a pressure cooker (I'd always eaten them raw from my Dad's garden before), a Pennsylvania Dutch dish called Slippery Pot Pie, and Vinegar Cake
• lived without running water or electricity for 3 months in a semi-remote mountain setting
• showered at a truck stop (I didn't even know you could before this experience!)
• drove a box (moving) truck
• had to ask for a jump when I ran my car battery out
• gave a jump to a stranger who was stranded alongside the road having done the same
• made blueberry jam (never lived where a bush grew in the yard before and I'm too cheap to buy them!)
• got the car stuck, and luckily unstuck, in the mud a few times
• learned to clip the dog's nails by myself

I also did some things again that I hadn't for a long long time...

• bathed in a creek
• pooped in an outhouse
• shot a pistol
• observed wildlife up close - mostly deer, wild turkey and a variety of other birds
• blogged a bit more regularly (at least toward the end of the year)
• picked enough wild blackberries and black raspberries to make jam
• experienced a Ward/Stake split/reorganization at Church
• took a course where I struggled hard to learn the material (thinking I will go out of  my way to avoid using it forever more - it was that hateful!)
• read the Book of Mormon
• forgave someone who was very hard to forgive

And I even did one thing that I'd sworn never again... moved to a place where winters are cold and snowy.

I've marveled repeatedly at just how adaptable, accepting, and forgiving my dogs are... troopers through thick and thin. They amaze and inspire me daily to try harder and do better and grow up to have their attitude about just taking life as it comes.

I failed friends.  Circumstances changed suddenly and I didn't/couldn't do what I promised and I'm still scrambling to get that set right. And friends failed me. Different ones in different ways. It hurts but I still love them and want them in my life so I'll get over it.

I've been scared. And sad, And lonely at times. I've had people worry about me. And I've wondered myself if I'm ever going to get me put back together and rebuild an entire life and future.

I've also felt peace and love and hope and connection.

And, again, declared the coming year to be THE YEAR OF ME!

This Place is Trying to Kill Me!

I swear it is!

Let me tell you about the string of mishaps this past week.  First off, we've had about 10 days of mostly wet weather so the ground is quite soft and mushy. Again.  Mud is my constant companion.  And enemy.  I've decided I dislike mud almost as much as snow... slimy, slippery, oozing over the top of my shoes mud everywhere.  I don't have a single kind word to say about it and after it introduced itself to my bottom (clad in clean pants no less!) a couple of times I refuse to even try to find kind words about it!

It's made the main drive into what I now refer to as Deathtrap #1.  There's a part of it where one side is a steep 4 or 5-foot embankment, the other drops off 10-12 feet to a tributary creek, and the part where your car needs to be is... mud.  It's only that way for a few yards but a few yards is plenty!  My back wheels find absolutely nothing to grip through here so I fishtail wildly.  Usually falling short of making the top, I slide backwards down the hill until  my tires can grab on some stray bits of grass convinced that if that drop off doesn't kill me I will be injured badly enough to wish it had.  By the time I make several tries and fling enough mud to crest that little rise and roll on up to the cabin, my hands are shaking and I've screamed a rather creative string of profanities.

As an alternative, Jason showed me where to turn off by one of the natural gas wells and come up the back way through a pasture.  A couple of days ago, that presented itself as Deathtrap #2.  There's a specific spot where the car is tipped so far to the side that I'm scared I will roll so I've been going around it, just a few feet lower around some young trees. I spun out there and slid backward down the hill.  By the time I got the slide under control, my back wheels were about 6 inches from the edge of the high creek bank.  It took 45 minutes of inching forward and back and desperately trying to convince God this was not a good day for me to die to get the car turned sideways so I could back up enough to find a different angle to get up and around that corner of the fence. I did it!  Mud put up a heck of a battle that day, but I won!!  And when I got to my parking spot next to the cabin, I sat there for a few minutes shaking and saying a prayer of thanksgiving.

I also have to tell you about Gizmo's new habit.  He has taken to grunting when he wants something.  It's a deep, gravely, irritating sort of grunt and then he raises his little eyebrows and stares off into space with a coyly innocent expression while I try to devine what it is he wants.  Outside, food, water, a treat, a R-I-D-E to the P-A-R-K... it all gets the exact same grunt.  He woke me up with the grunt a few nights ago.  I figured out that he was going to barf pretty quickly and struggled to get Jack and Lightning off me so I could jump up and open the door.  The doorknob fell off in my hand.  And Gizmo did not get out in time...  Is there anything more disgusting than cleaning up a giant dog barf in the middle of the night?  Unfortunately, yes.  There's the part about fighting him back from eating it, as if round 2 is going to sit any better in his tummy, while you clean it up.

After a half hour of fidgeting around I did get the knob to slide into place but it's still coming off about every third time I need to open the door.  Mostly that's just a nuisance but it has potential to make a real problem into something even worse.

Like last night.

I was feeling rather pleased with myself for beating mud at its own game 2 days in a row and wanted to sit down and peacefully sip a cup of cocoa before bed... I put a pan with some water on the Coleman burner and proceeded to put the hot chocolate mix in my cup.  I've said before that thing ain't right... but Jason can't find a problem and dismisses my discomfort with using that flaming little burner.  So I grit my teeth and so far have managed to cook a few meals on it. I still say that thing ain't right!  I think it might be possessed and whatever is in there sure as heck doesn't answer to "Genie!"  It flamed out. Again.  This time worse than ever before... It spit up fuel like a fussy baby which caught fire all over the top of the dry sink and nearly lit up my sleeve while I tried to shut it off and smother the flames with a damp towel. The flames jumped to the floor this time so I did a little dance stomping them out. And I managed to burn a dishcloth, too.  Not just a little singe on the edge either... half the dishcloth is a gaping black hole.  And the cabin is filled with the acrid and ever attractive scent of Eau de Ashes.  Or is it Charcoal #5?

I think it's time for a new adventure.  And this next one really must include a hot shower, a real indoor toilet, and a fully functioning kitchen!  I've proved I can survive an off-grid prepper sort of existence.  Maybe not thrive in it, but I can survive.  And that's good enough for  me.

5 Minutes You'll Never Get Back

Last night as we were getting settled in bed Gizmo decided he needed to snuggle. He may be all sorts of wonderful but a snuggle dog Gizmo is not... He just doesn't have that soft, squishy, comfortable-to-cuddle-on-your-lap kind of body and he doesn't usually even try but every now and then he decides you are in desperate need of a dose of his kind of lovin' and heaven help you, there's not a darn thing you can do about it. You will be Gizzered!

Gizmo, November 11, 2016

Last night was my lucky night...

He took a mighty leap at my side and ended up clinging for dear life with his front legs wrapped over the top of my head and the rest of his body hanging down past my shoulder. His embrace felt more like being trapped in the clenches of a love sick baboon than something pleasant, but I love my little dude so I endured it. Jack was sound asleep and snoring by my other knee already folded into as neat a little ball as a 100-lb Doberman can get which is, actually, surprisingly compact. And in that moment, for no apparent reason whatsoever, I got the giggles. Like out of control, could not stop, shrieking-at-the-top-of-my-lungs kind of giggles proving once again that I am awfully easy to keep entertained. Anyway, I laughed so hard there were tears running down my face. I was gasping for breath and probably turning blue from lack of oxygen. I laughed so hard I almost threw up. Lightning was so worried! He kept stomping round and round and over the top of me, crushing a lung in the process, and sniffing at my face. His expression was utter confusion about what was wrong with me. I guess I don't indulge in a good hard laugh often enough... I guess that needs to change!

Jack, November 11, 2016

After I finally got myself under control, and Gizmo off of me, I decided I was hungry and deserved a snack for surviving such a most excellent workout. I've been very good and didn't even buy any easy-grab-and-snack-junky stuff on the last grocery run so I had to resort to one of my Mom's standby munchies: buttered saltines. Yeah, I know. Ew! Could there be a food that tastes more like cardboard? And butter "just greases it up so it slides better," as she used to say. My Mom buttered everything. Everything. Even pepperoni pizza. But I digress... We were snacking on crackers (which I don't even like except with chili and then it's more like I have a little chili with my bowl of crushed up crackers) and Lightning burps like a third grader in a school yard contest. I swear if he knew how, that was a burp where he could have got the whole alphabet out. He looked as surprised by it as I was!

Lightning, November 11, 2016

To celebrate his utter lack of good manners and top the evening off, I took on the challenge of getting all 3 boys to howl at the moon with me. Not an easy fete! It's like they know howling is a talent that they missed the heavenly line up to get for this lifetime so it takes some serious effort to get an "owoooooo" going. And they still sound more like strangling goats than anything... Is it sad that I have a better howl than my dog? True story!

If you're still reading you've either laughed with me at least once or I just succeeded in wasting 5 minutes of your life that you've got no chance of ever getting back.  Either way...

Thanks for sharing in my bit of ridiculousness!!

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Several nights ago I was having a hard time going to sleep, and then staying asleep once I found my dreamland, so I spent some of the dark hours looking at the stars.  They are so bright and clear here in Ellenboro!  Even brighter and bigger than I remember from childhood when my Dad would try, with unending patience... even as I'm sure I unendingly tried his patience with just not getting it, to show me how to find the constellations of Idaho's night sky.  During my gazings, and trying to equate what I saw in the sky to what the Sky Map app on my phone told me I was looking at, I started to wonder at the imagination of whoever anciently decided which stars go together in that cosmic scale dot-to-dot we call constellations.  These are the stars of Capricornus.  You don't see that astrological goat the zodiac uses to symbolically describe the attributes of people like me who are born between mid-December and mid-January either?

Now?  Having the lines drawn in sure makes it easier to see...  My mind is still in awe at the idea that another human brain came up with this.  How did they pick one star over another, that our finite earthly sight, looks close enough to keep the same shape? And what inspired them to look for patterns among the stars?  What keeps us looking today?

I fully admit that any time I go outside at night, I look up.  And I can usually spot the Big Dipper, a part of the Ursa Major constellation, and sometimes even its smaller counterpart that features the North Star, Polaris, as the bright jewel of its handle.

That, sadly, is about the extent of my ability without the help of some sort of chart or map or more experienced star gazer.  I fear wouldn't get far if I had to navigate a trip using the stars... Thank goodness today our cells phone offer an app for that!

I was still star gazing at 1:00 am when the dogs decided they just had to go out.  With the door open to slip the lead onto Lightning's collar, I noticed one really bright star just over the top of the hill this little cabin faces.  I took a guess that it might be Sirius.  I was right!!  How appropriate to be greeted by the "dog star" on that particular errand!

When we were all settled under the blankets again, I noticed on my app how many planets were lined up on or next to the line identified as the ecliptic.  I don't know that this kind of planetary alignment has any special meaning or not, or that the planets were even all lined up anywhere but on my phone app, but it reminded me how big and very ordered this universe we call home really is.  And what a small bit of dust I am in it.  And yet my Bible and my experience tells me that I am important enough that the very God who created all this takes thought of me.  Even when I'm questioning and don't really feel like I've got much of His attention lately... Maybe that's the best reminder of all that I could draw from a night spent looking at the stars and wondering about what's really out there.

See how the Moon, Neptune, Mars, and Pluto are lined up?  Uranus was on the
same line beyond this screen capture beyond the Moon on the one side and
both Venus and Mercury were beyond Pluto on the other.  That faint line is noted
as the Ecliptic and points to the Sun.

And how amazing is it that we can see (maybe with the help of a telescope) so many strange and different worlds?  Wouldn't visiting them be an adventure to blog about?

(All photos in this post are screen captures from the Sky Map app for Androids.)

My Prepper Potty

My tolerance point with the outhouse was met during the rainstorm last week. I don't really like it at its very best and I especially dislike the nighttime mad runs to go pee. And I outright hate it when rain has turned the trail into slippery, slimy, sink-to-your-ankles, slurping, sucking mud where you get "stuck" and dirty yourself in the attempt to avoid dirtying yourself all while trying to keep your cell phone dry and clean because it also functions as your only flashlight.  Yeah... the experience was all that, with a cherry on top!

For years I've seen various prepper potties on Facebook, Pinterest, Blogs and other places and I've intended to add one to my own camping/emergency provisions but, honestly, it took this wilderness adventure to motivate me into action.  I was planning on spending around $10 on it.  I spent more. If you take the time to shop around you can probably find the pieces well inside that budget but, as noted, I had met my utmost point of tolerance with the available bathroom facilities so price wasn't my #1 concern.

$12.97 at Walmart.

To make your own prepper potty you need just 2 things: a 5-gallon bucket and a special lid. I'm using it only for nighttime needs and will be dumping it in the outhouse and rinsing it out the next morning.  And I'll rinse it with bleach water periodically, too.

$3 at Home Depot.

If you're going to use it in the traditional camping, or apocalypse, setting there are additional sanitation issues you'll need to consider. Since other bloggers have covered that in varying degrees of graphic detail, I'm just going to give you a few links to check out and not include that part here.

http://preparednessnibblesandbits.blogspot.com/search/label/Emergency%20Toilet

http://momwithaprep.com/potty/

http://www.cheaprvliving.com/bathroom/go-bathroom-van/

http://www.foodstoragemoms.com/2014/09/emergency-toilet-set/

So... you went shopping and you've got your bucket and lid.  What to do with them?

Start by taking your lid out of its cardboard packaging.  Then snap it on the bucket pretty much the same way you'd snap the seal on your favorite Tupperware bowl.  That's about it... Congrats!  You are now the proud owner of your very own prepper potty!!

Lid up.                            Lid down.                           Lid up.

I think Home Depot's tag line is really appropriate for this project!

Using your prepper potty is interesting the first time or two.  It's not exactly ideal height... so getting yourself positioned can be a bit of a challenge.  (If you can find it, opt for a 6-gallon bucket and it's a little better!  Those extra two inches make a lot of difference!!)  Put an old towel under it if you're using it indoors just in case, you know, you don't "do this" in a straight stream.  Hey, sometimes it happens. TMI?  I sort of thought so, too, but decided since we are all friends I'd be safe sharing that sort of weird intimate personal detail.  This prepper potty is not a perfect substitute for indoor plumbing but it sure beats the outhouse! I highly suggest one for your tent camping/emergency equipment.

If you subscribe to any apocalyptic theories - End of the World, disaster bug outs, civil unrest pending the outcome of next month's Presidential election (all well within the realm of possibility) - I have an additional bit of advice.  Make your prepper potty NOW!!  And practice using it a few times so that it's familiar, especially if you have kids.  When the world around you is in a state of utter chaos is not the time to be perfecting your technique to squat!!

Adventures of the Canine Kind

Lest you think I’m the one having all the fun…  The boys have been having some adventures all their own.

Despite their firm resolution that water is meant for drinking, they’ve been ‘swimming’ in the creek a couple of times.  Shhh… don’t tell them it was a bath.  Swimming sounds so much more adventurous!  Jack is an especially good swimmer.  He can cover the width of the swimming hole in just a couple of strokes.  Lightning stands on the bottom with his back legs and paddles furiously with his front paws – basically going nowhere but splashing an amazing amount of water.  And like nearly everything else in life, Gizmo just plods along at slow and steady pace, unruffled and happy to be with you.

And here’s photographic proof taken this morning that they are here and healthy.  These are the expectant faces trying to convey the message that they like strawberry pop tarts, too, and that they really truly deserve a bite off mine.  The looks were more intense until I grabbed the camera. I guess it just doesn’t rattle the same as that silvery pastry wrapper.

We were here, at the cabin, for a few days at the beginning of the month and then down in the Hagerstown MD area for about 2 weeks.  I came back up this past Wednesday.  Lightning remembered.  And coming down the lane that would unnerve a less intrepid woman, he started his “we are at the dog park” yowling.  The closer to the cabin we got, the louder he got.  And you know it… the other two couldn’t stand being out-yowled so they joined in, each upping the intensity of their carrying on. Pretty soon I didn’t know if I was bouncing and tipping back and forth from their dances or from the road!!  I think it’s safe to say they are happy up here.

Each has made some escape attempts, though.  I keep trying to tell them that we are only pretend country and this is real country up here and they just don’t have the knowledge and skills to survive like country dogs.  They look at me like I’m saying some awful purty-toned “blah blah blah… blah blah blah blah.” And then they haul butt to explore.  Every weed and tree and fence post is new and the scents are simply intoxicating to their canine sensibilities and must be sniffed out.  And marked as their own. They don’t grasp that I’d be really sad if they became some black bear’s midnight snack!

And I know they wouldn’t have the sense to back down and run the other way if they saw a bear...

Or leave the snakes alone…

Or stay off the highway if they happened to wander that far…

Or away from another house where they could be shot as an unwanted stray...

Or out of trash cans and away from assorted dead rodents…

See what I mean by pretend country?  We may have been in a semi-rural looking area in Georgia, but we lived like we were in the city.  My guys are basically dumbed-down, pampered, house dogs.

Last night was Gizmo’s shot at being the evil bad dawg… He ran off.  That boy hauled himself down to the creek, over the bridge and up the other lane on our turnoff to chase chickens.  There’s a house painted a striking shade of sky blue not far up that little road.  And there are hundreds of chickens and guineas wandering around there.  (I may be exaggerating again, but there are a lot!) I’m going to guess that the birds have turned mostly wild because of the number free ranging along the road and each hen is herding a good sized brood of chicks.  I wouldn’t expect the number or all those hatchlings in a domestic flock, especially at this time of year.  I wanted to knock him right into next month for that stunt.  I didn’t.  But I sure wanted to in those moments I was dragging him back to the car away from “Squawkfest 2016.”

Correction

I don’t traverse a submersible bridge.  It’s really called a low-water crossing or sometimes an Irish bridge.  A submersible bridge, which is really a thing, is something else entirely.  Who knew?  Well, I’m sure somewhere someone who knows a bit about architecture, engineering or bridge building would know but I didn’t. Until now.

So… let’s talk about this way to cross the creek that I actually do have.

Picture this:  A couple of pieces of big culvert pipe are laid in the creek so that the water flows through them on its way downstream.  Then slabs of cement are fitted to them on the one side and smoothed flat on the other and placed on top.  When the water is low, all of it is able to move through the pipes and on its merry way.  If there’s an abundance of water, say because the pipes have become blocked with leaves and debris or there’s a big rain storm, the water will back up.  And when it’s deeper than the bridge is high, the design will let water start to flow over the top.

Here’s the low-water crossing I use.  Yes, it’s taken some damage from logs that have escaped from an operation somewhere upstream crashing into it.  (And now there's a guy who's pulling them out above here and processing them for sale.  I guess there are quite a few run away logs?)  Hypothetically, it could be repaired.  But because there are safety concerns with this type of crossing, the County (who’s in charge of zoning and permits and things like that) says it needs to be replaced with a structural bridge in a different location.  I understand their reasoning.  People worldwide die on this kind of crossing every year because their vehicle is swept away or they get out of it when it stalls because of water getting into the engine and are sucked under in the current or bashed into other debris. It’s a horrible and painful way to die!

At the same time, a new bridge is a huge expense and headache for my friend to take on.  And this is far from the only low-water crossing in the County.  In just my few days exploring I’ve seen several and even a few places with nothing at all – they drive right through their creek to get from the road to their house.  Maybe these low-water crossings are a relic of the past, but they seem to do their job pretty well.  And just like people, just because it’s old doesn’t mean it has no value.  I would hope there’s some balancing point where safety and pragmatism meet but I guess we’ll have to wait to see how this gets resolved.

Here’s more examples of this type of ‘bridge’ from around the world.

I believe this is in Australia.
Photo from: http://www.strangeracer.com/content/item/157882.html

And here's an example from Montgomery County, NC.
Photo from: http://www.learnnc.org/lp/multimedia/8330

And to illustrate just how dangerous these types of bridges can be... here's one
from Arnoldsburg, WV showing a 2011 rescue effort.
Photo from: http://www.hurherald.com/cgi-bin/db_scripts/articles?Action=user_
view&db=hurheral_articles&id=43991

Venomous Snakes of WV That Swim… Really Well

Don’t even try to act surprised!  You knew I’d Google it to find out what kind of snake I saw.

First, let’s make a distinction between poisonous and venomous.  I made that mistake at first and asked my friend about poisonous snakes…  Poisonous means you get sick or die if you eat them.  Venomous means they inject venom when they bite you and you might get sick or die from the reaction to it.   I have zero intention of eating a snake.  Maybe someday I’ll be that kind of brave.  But that day is not today!  So poisonous is a moot point.  I’m worried about getting bit, or one of the dog’s getting bit, and needing medical care to survive.  Venomous snakes are my concern.

Photo from Encyclopedia Britannica Kids. 

According to this brochure from the state agency that manages wildlife, there are only two kinds of venomous snakes found in all of West Virginia:  Northern Copperheads and Timber Rattlesnakes.

And...gulp!

They can both swim.

Swim quite well, in fact.

Photo from Encyclopedia Britannica Kids.

Of course, there are 20 or so perfectly harmless varieties of snakes around these parts, too.  And lots of them can swim.  I guess that's supposed to give me a sense of help or comfort...

Yeah.  Not so much!

After comparing lots of pictures to my memory of what this one looked like, it was either a Copperhead or some sort of water snake.  While WVDNR says the Copperheads are shy and pretty non-aggressive and will only bite if threatened, I'm going to just go with a water snake.  That makes it a little easier to be brave!

A New Adventure

Toward the middle of July, I had an old friend pay a visit.  We had a great time together and decided I needed to venture north and visit him.  And then we decided that maybe my life could do with a real shakeup and I should just move.  So in the spirit of saying ‘yes’ to adventure, I said ok.  And that, folks, is how I ended up in West Virginia.

The hillside I see looking out the front
door of the cabin.  Makes me think of the
opening credits of Little House on the
Prarie!

Ellenboro is a tiny little town.  Their Wikipedia page says there are just over 360 residents, but I’m not so sure they didn’t count a few cats and dogs to get up to that number.  There’s a couple of little fast food restaurants, a convenience store/gas station, an insurance agent, a couple of other small businesses and a window factory.  The nearest grocery store is about 5 miles down the road and, while I’ve been getting by quite well, it does not have the selection of the big city grocers I am accustomed to shopping.  To find those kinds of stores, it’s 27 miles in one direction or 42 in the other.  Let’s just say those special purchases take some effort…

Part of the drive to the cabin after you
turn off Highway 50 and cross the creek.

I am staying in my friend’s hunting cabin on a burned out old farmstead that’s a couple of miles out of town.  The property, which is mostly leased out for natural gas wells, is primitive.  Power could be brought in fairly easily, but it hasn’t been done.  Right now anything electrical would require a generator.  And there isn’t one on site.  So, long story short:  there is no electricity.

Or indoor plumbing.

Or refrigeration.  Or a washer and dryer.  Or any of those other modern inventions we think we need to live.  

We don’t.  Think about camping.  There flashlights and lanterns to light your way.  And camp stoves to cook your food.  Or that nice big BBQ grill we moved with me.  Or the fire pit I’m currently assembling.

There’s a scary old outhouse. It’s functional, just frightening.  And next trip into a city, I am stopping at Home Depot or Lowes and getting the stuff to make a camping potty out of a 5-gallon bucket to shortcut some of those urgent and oh so inconvenient runs in the black of night.  Actually… I’m getting several buckets.  One for the potty, one for a clothes washer, 2-3 or whatever the plan says for a clothes wringer, and one to rig a shower.  You can go search Pinterest now or just stay tuned and I’ll post my misstep-by-misstep instructions, hints for using and a review of how well they work (or don’t) here over the next couple of weeks.

Ha!  I got all excited about 5-gallon buckets there and jumped ahead in the story.

Looking off one side of the submersible
bridge.  I'll do a whole post on it later.

There’s a creek.  The water is ice cold and pretty clear.  It's nowhere as muddy and brown as it looks in my photo... Not perfect but drinking it hasn’t hurt the dogs.  I’ve used some to rinse out a few clothes between laundromat visits.  And it’s been the site of more than one rather invigorating bath.  You have to cross the creek coming into the property by traversing a submersible bridge.  My friend calls it a submarine bridge… Which might be a good description after a storm or in the spring when there’s a lot of runoff.  A submersible bridge is made for water to flow across when it gets high enough.  Yes, you read that right.  Water flows over the top of the bridge.  On purpose.  And yes, the thought of driving across it when there’s water flowing over it kind of freaks me out. I think I could summon the bravery for it if there were only a few inches but from what I understand a few feet is not beyond the realm of possibility.  And that’s just plain scary!

The first few times down there, I saw minnows from ½ inch to 2 or so inches long.  I keep looking but so far nothing bigger for me to try catching for dinner.  Yesterday there was snake swimming for the far shore.  I didn’t scream.  Or cry.  Or jump and down.  I didn’t do much of anything but observe and try to get a good look at the shape of its head.  And then I dipped dog water as calm as you please.  And turned up an old brown glass medicine bottle.  I don’t have it cleaned up enough yet to make out more than “Vick’s” on the bottom but I think it’s a pretty cool find!