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July 29, 2020: Making the Best of the Best

Well, today I was on my own. Last night Pete got a phone call from our friend Terri’s husband Bob, asking him if he’d like to do some fly in fishing. Of course Pete jumped at the chance. And of course, I encouraged him to go. I know of just one other time in which he got to fly in someplace; this was when he was an Iditarod volunteer – he was flown to Rohn, one of the early checkpoints.

So off he went – he had to be at the Wasilla Airport at 7:00 a.m. So he got up at some ungodly hour. I got up too, and also ate blueberry pancakes. He headed out and I went back to bed. I got up an hour later. I had this dream – I was explaining to a couple I knew that I was

Bob fishing next to his Super Cub

going on a long bicycle trip. The place, I’ve been there in my head before. It was very far north. We then got to talking and agreed that the solution to the word’s problem was to inject salt into the earth. The salt would come from Utah, which might not be all that great.

I did my horse chores, saddled up Hrimfara, and rode down to the Moose Meadows. There, for a short while, I picked blueberries. Alas, between yesterday and today someone else had been out there, also getting their share. I made note of the four-wheeler tracks. This was a reminder to me that we live in a residential area – because it’s heavily wooded, it appears as though there are fewer households than there actually are.

Hrimmi was an excellent companion. I began picking and she started to wander off, so I tied her to a nearby tree. She stood patiently while I picked. I was not long. I got half a container full, then untied her, and hopped back on. We searched around some but were unable to find any more patches. We got misdirected a few times, but Hrimmi, when I gave her permission, got us right back on track. Smart horse.

Yes, I was disappointed about my meager haul because I was hoping to get enough berries to tide us over until spring. Then again, I was uplifted by the fact that I rode my own horse to the berry patch. How many people can say they’ve done this? And how many people get to pick berries in what is one of the most beautiful areas of the world?

We made it back home in short order because Hrimmi, finally having her druthers, most wanted to be back with her herd. I got back just in time – the afternoon humidity was starting to settle in, along with the malaise that accompanies it.

Perhaps in a few days Pete will want to go pick in an area where there are more berries. This, though, is going to require us to go further afield. And I doubt that he’s going to want to take the horses and dogs who are a distraction from the task at hand.

It’s now mid-day. There’s plenty left to do. I need to monitor the hoop house, feed the animals, and take the remaining animals on outings. I might, later today, take one of the horses and return to what I’m calling the Moose Wallow Blueberry Patch.

Next: 210. 7/30/20:Ho Hum

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