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We’ve had a busy week around here. Tuesday evening there was the volleyball game in which the Rebels thumped the Herford Whitefaces, or the “Herd” as they call themselves. Our favorite Lady Rebel put on a show, including a kill shot that closed out the win in the first game for her team. She was wreaking such havoc on the visiting team that the coach, in her infinite wisdom, chose not to play her in the third and final game.
Thursday evening we attended the Palo Duro-Tascosa football game. Joyce wore her PD t-shirt, the one she got for their 50th reunion, but we sat on the Tascosa side of the field. When I was in high school, Palo Duro was no match for Tascosa in football and that hasn’t changed, apparently. We stayed through the third quarter and by then were rooting for PD to at least score. They did but there was no more scoring in the fourth quarter we learned the next day so the final was 36-7.
Friday and Saturday evening we attended the 70th birthday of Tascosa High School class of 66. We attended the one for Joyce’s class in July so that seems to be the thing these days, birthday parties for high school classes. Maybe it has been for a while. It’s as good an excuse to get together for food and drink as any and does no harm. Friday evening’s function was at the Tascosa Golf Club. The room we were in overlooked the golf course built on the rolling terrain there on the north part of town. Saturday evening’s affair was held at one of our classmate’s house. Both evenings there were something like 30 or 40 people, most of which live here in town although there were a number who came from out-of-town. It was a nice group of relics. I found if I studied a person long enough I would see the teenage version I knew back in the day. Name tags helped, too. Joyce and I enjoyed ourselves. It’s good for us to get out once in a while.
It is hummingbird migration time and the little devils have been entertaining us as they squabble over the feeders we have out. I say feeders plural because we’ve put two more out besides our normal one in response to the number of hummers around. The selfish little buggers are as territorial as all get out. One will claim the feeder and try to defend it against all comers. There is plenty of opportunity for usurpers to help themselves while the claimant is away, maybe chasing a rival, and of course we don’t let the feeders run out so they would save themselves a lot of trouble by just learning to share, but where would be the fun in that.
There is still mowing to do but even if it rains there may not be much more. Along about this time of year the grass just stops growing whereas the weeds grow year around, it seems.
It appears a condor mistook our little outpost for a bed & breakfast recently on its way home to the Andies from its summer vacation in Nova Scotia and roosted in our pecan tree. Our patio looks like someone knocked over a bucket of white paint. The neighborhood squirrels did their best to hide the evidence by littering the area with pecan shells and broken twigs. Don’t you just love nature?
In 2007 about this time we were in northern California touring the redwoods. That was a pleasant trip, one I might be willing to repeat if there weren’t so many other places we haven’t visited and would like to.