I don't care and I don't know! But I am sure it will be back with temps in the 90's or so. Man on man, this weather is so mild it has me "waxing poetic" as they say. Seriously, this weather is more like late September. It was an incredibly perfect day today. Mild temps, partly cloudy skies, and whispery breezes all the day long. The MOTH got quite a bit done toward leveling the old homeplace and I worked in the room that will be our library/office space. It is now ready to start priming and painting. I don't know what kind of stuff the previous owner was into hanging on the walls in this particular room, but I pulled out at least 40 nails and there are probably another 40 or so nail holes to be spackled. That's a lot of holes in the wall, even by my standards. Later in the day, our neighbors, Stan and Mary came up to visit us. We love Stan and Mary. They are the epitome of good neighbor's. They have their fingers on the pulse of everyone in our little rural community. They know everyone's schedule and who should be where at any given moment. If things should vary by the least bit, they are on it. Case in point. When the youngest left a few weeks ago to get married, I was driving her car because mine was in the shop. One morning during that time, Isabella (who we were watching while her mom was away gettin' hitched), and I headed to the farm to gather eggs. We did our thing, walked around checked things out and then jumped back in her mother's car. As we pulled out of the drive-way and rounded the curve, we met Stan, sitting military straight in his beloved Kubota, very concerned, and very stern looking. I couldn't imagine what he was so concerned about, so I pulled over and gave him a big, "Hey Stan, how's it goin?" His countenance immediately relaxed as he explained that he had never seen this particular vehicle in the yard of our little farm before. He said that it looked decidedly suspicious. The trunk was up (my chicken coop shoes were stowed away there) and the car was missing its hubcaps. I guess by country standards, that is a very ghetto look. Anyway, he was glad it was just me there collecting eggs and I was extremely glad I was not a somebody with nefarious reasons to be at our little farm because Stan was on it! And Stan is usually packin' if you get my drift.
So back to my point, Stan and Mary came rambling up the road in their Kubota. They come up at least once on the week-end to check on us and our progress. They can't wait for us to get moved in. Eventually conversation steered toward another family that was building a farm/homestead on the mountain. The next thing you know, the MOTH and I were perched in the back of the the Kubota and we were headed up English Mountain to see the new homestead. This was the best ride up the mountain we have ever had. It wasn't on paved roads, but up two-laned paths. It was spectacular. English Mountain is about 11 miles long not including all the nooks and crannies that any mountain worth its salt lays claim to. Stan took every little path that a 4x4 could possibly take. He knows something about every path he takes too. Mary rides beside him and she knows just about as much as he does. It reminded me of those golden days when Uncle Carl would pile all of us kids in the back of the pink Jeep that Uncle Kelly had donated to the family compound in the Ozarks. There was no road or no creek that Uncle Carl would not cross if he thought it would give us kids a thrill. So there was the MOTH and me, grinning ear to ear and bouncing along in the back of Stan and Mary's Kubota and I don't think either of us has been that happy and content in a long while. The only reason Mary cut the ride short was because, A. the Kubota's gas tank was almost empty and B. they weren't packing. I can understand both points because let me tell you, the places we were could definitely have bears and wild boars at every corner.By the time the MOTH and I were deposited back at the farm, we were wondering if maybe a Kubota just might be in our future?