The early bird gets the most beautiful view

We were already awake, so I stuck my head outside.
It was a really nice morning, so Badger and I laced up our sneakers and headed out.
I think around 8:30 in the morning in spring is the best time to take a walk.
There’s very little traffic, even with the school right there.
It’s not hot yet, but it’s also not so chilly you can’t stand being outside.
There’s just a real peace to the morning.

We started walking without any real plans, and going all the way to Creek Church wasn’t even on our minds.
It’s about half a mile from home, so a mile there and back.
Still, we ended up down there watching squirrels.
There just weren’t as many squirrels as usual that time of morning.

On the walk down, I looked up at the power line and saw two squirrels just sitting there, frozen, staring at me.
 I told Badger we should just stop and let them be. 
I did not want a squirrel falling on my head.
I can’t imagine Cowboy’s reaction if we had to call him to take us to the hospital because we got a mad squirrel dropping on our heads.

The bigger squirrel slowly inched his way across the power line stretching over the road.
He made it to the other side and disappeared, probably hopping down toward the barn.
The smaller one just sat up there on top of the pole watching big’un go.
I guess he figured he wasn’t that brave, or maybe not that nuts, so he said nope and scrambled right back into the trees.

I looked up and, holy cow, there were a good ten squirrels running around on the roof of that abandoned house.
Little’un just went right up and joined them.

Badger and I stood there watching them for a bit.
No one was around to wonder why we were standing on the sidewalk in front of an abandoned house, staring at what looked like nothing at all.
Squirrels are a lot better at blending in than you’d expect.

Nanny cams, those small security cameras, do come in handy sometimes.
Cowboy woke up at 9:41 a.m. to an empty house, scratched his head, opened the front door, gave a shrug, and went on into the kitchen.

We got home just a minute after he’d wandered off into the kitchen.
He heard the door open, stuck his head out, saw it was only us, and went right back to fixing his breakfast.
At this point I think he’s just accepted he married a weird woman who raised weird kids who do weird things and sometimes just disappear for a while.
At least Lady was glad to see us.

Cowboy finished his breakfast and then settled in for a nap.

Badger and I rested for a little while, then she went outside to finish my yard sign.
I stayed out there with her, mostly just keeping her company.
She got the post set into the ground, but the pizza pan kept trying to fall right back off.
She worked on it forever, and I think she finally got it to stay put as long as nobody bumps it or breathes on it too hard.

Cowboy got up and went out to take care of the chickens.
He didn’t say a word about the sign, which surprised me a little.
Usually he’s the one who complains he can’t mow around things like that.

The day went on as usual, maybe even a little faster than normal.
It didn’t feel like long at all before Cowboy was heading off to work.

After Cowboy went to work, Badger and I found something for dinner.
She didn’t feel like cooking today, so I took over and ended up burning the chicken.
Cowboy said he mostly just ate green beans because he couldn’t eat the chicken.
I couldn’t eat the chicken either.
Badger didn’t want any of it, burnt or not.

Badger and I are fine with frozen pizza, ramen noodles, or even peanut butter and jelly if it comes down to it. 
Cowboy doesn’t think it counts as a real meal unless it’s something home-cooked with meat and two sides.

More than anything, I think that just shows the difference in how we grew up.
He came from a big, traditional nuclear family with a stay-at-home mom.
I was raised as an only child by a divorced working mom.

During summer breaks, when I wasn’t getting school lunch, I’d open a can of Chef Boyardee straight from the shelf and just eat it right out of the can.
That’s probably why I’m not too picky about what counts as a meal.

I grew up in the ’70s and into the early ’80s.
He grew up in the ’60s and into the early ’70s.

He turned 18 in 1978.
I turned 18 in 1988.

Moooving on.

We’ve mostly just been watching TV.
Badger still says she’s not feeling great.
She ended up doing the cat litter boxes anyway. 
She didn’t want to, but it had to be done.
With my back, I can scoop, but I can’t handle all the bending and lifting a full clean takes.
And today, they were definitely due for it.

Once she was done and had a shower, she went back to the couch to watch TV.

Heron came home from work early.
He disappeared into the backyard, then texted us while Badger and I were watching TV.
He’d gone down and started burning brush.
We’re under fire restrictions right now, and they aren’t giving out burn permits.
It was really windy today on top of that.
Luckily no one called the fire department, and he managed to keep it under control.

I told him there were birds nesting in that brush pile and he’d probably just committed a mass murder.
He said nothing flew out of it.
I was going to say they probably didn’t even have time to get out and were likely baby birds anyway.
But at that point, done was done.

Several people at the plant Cowboy works at shared a news article on Facebook about an employee at the Texas plant.
The details were pretty vague, but basically he went missing during his shift.
They started looking for him and eventually found human bones and pieces of clothing.
The plant makes bone meal for pet and poultry feed.

I know Cowboy’s work is a dangerous place.
There’s boiling grease there that’s well above the actual boiling point.
Even the water hoses they use run at or above boiling temperature, and Cowboy has gotten second-degree burns from them before.
The boiler can explode.
Boilers at other plants in different states have exploded before.
They use chemicals there as well.
Maintenance has to go into tight spaces sometimes, and they have to shut down moving equipment to do it.
There’s also a risk of electrocution.

In all the years we’ve been married, I never thought of the pit as something dangerous.
I always thought it was just a hole in the ground where they dumped carcasses.
I didn’t realize it was an entire system with moving parts that carry everything to the bone grinder and then on to the boilers or cookers.
I never realized you could trip, fall in, and, if you were lucky, smother before being pulled down the line to the grinder and the cookers.

That’s apparently what happened to that man.
Cowboy says once you’re in, there’s no way to get you out.
The system can’t be shut down, or at least that’s what I heard.

Cowboy’s brother-in-law got second- and third-degree burns from boiling grease splashing on him.
He ended up with scars from above his knees all the way up to his face.
We’ve been really lucky that Cowboy has never had any serious injuries.
You try not to think about it, but you do worry every time he goes to work.
It’s worse when he’s working those 16- and 17-hour shifts.
You know he’s tired and not as alert as he should be.

Tomorrow is store day, so I’m getting off here and heading to bed.