With processing the replacement heifers behind us, irrigation water off and the ranch in the capable hands of Terri Drewry Blanke and Allie Fry, Robbin and I slipped off to the 70° weather of Cambria for a couple of days. Mid-week on Moonstone Beach was relatively quiet, sparsely occupied for the most part by old people and their dogs with only a couple of gangs of unobtrusive city urchins learning a little about the beach and the unpredictable habits of waves.
It seems the only chance I get to read much beyond a long poem is when we get away from home. Though I’d seen the movie “Cold Mountain” years back, I began the written version while were there, enthralled with Charles Frazier’s prosaic style, chuck-a-block full of similes and metaphor à la the vernacular of the Civil War period. I ought to finish the book this weekend and catch the movie one more time on HBO.
We also managed to over-satisfy our ambitious quest for of seafood that ought to last us for quite a while. We’re glad to be back home, rested and ready to get back into our ranch routines.
drycrikjournal 