Eddy and Tensing were faster climbing Everest than we are getting the turbine up.  But up it is going.  One small step at a time.  I am giving odds on any bets.  Mind you, for the sake of disclosure I have to add that Sal said, “We’ll have to bring the whole thing down to put the turbine on.  I am NOT going up any further!” 

Of course we have already decided on the forty foot height versus the 5-section 50-foot height.  I compromised, if you know what I mean?  So, from my point of view (staring up into the sun listening to Sally swear) it is already a bit short.  But, hey!  It’s not the size that counts.  It’s how it……………never mind.

The garden passed muster.  A few comments here and there but the basic evaluation was, ‘we done good!’  Everyone is in agreement that the squash has to go (it is either it or us) but, otherwise, it was an encouraging inspection.   And we learned some things.  Seems planting peas is good for the garden.  Who knew?  And we can cut back the tomato foliage earlier to accelerate the ripening process somewhat.  Wahoo!  Does it get any better?  “Don’t underestimate the value of good compost!” 

Duly noted.

But, by then my attention was on Aayla (3) and Ruby Mae (1), the two little cuties from the homestead just south.  Aayla wanted to play so Sal got out some toys we keep around for visiting children and husbands waiting for their wives at bookclub.  Poker chips are always well-received by both groups and Aayla took to them like Maverick in a Tombstone saloon. 

After we had played with them…….. (two white chips in the eye sockets make Aayla look exactly like Little Orphan Annie.  Seems I look like a hairy freak so I stopped doing it but she kept it up making some kind of fashion statement.  Effectively, I might add.  She looked good.)………anyway, afterwards Aayla got to putting the chips away.  “We have to clean these up.  C’mon.  Let’s do it!”    Ruby Mae remained unimpressed but I got to it.  After a bit, I slowed down.  “Hey!  C’mon.  These have to be put away!”

“You are three!” I said.  “You  are not the boss of me!” She just looked at me the way Sally (and, it seems, all women do.  You know…….?  That look!? ) and said, “Just do it!”

So, I cleaned them up.  Quickly.

What the hell is that?  How do those ‘the look’ genes get passed on?