Berries, Gender-Confused Deer, and Bikes

Last week I FINALLY totally and completely finished work in the house with the installation of those final folding closet doors, installing base and door trim in and around said closet, and cutting/painting/installing new exterior trim for the back door. Neither job was even half as simple as it sounds, but oh so rewarding to proclaim, "It is DONE!" to nobody in particular.

Since hubby was at his weekend National Guard drill, I pointed my evil SUV toward my folk's for a little break. Naturally, since I like to think of myself as an accomplished multi-tasker, I also chose this visit to coincide with blackberry-picking time. Mom and Dad have some nice, productive bushes which were starts from Grandpa's bushes, and so far I've just got sprigs. I did manage to pick four blackberries this year. Not four cups...four berries. And, since moving is in our hopefully near future, the bushes will once again be uprooted and relocated (no way in heck I'm leaving them! This includes 5 blackberry and 10 gooesberry bushes.), and even next year four berries is likely all I can hope for.

Not that berries were my only motivation. Of course I wanted to visit, and I also wanted to see "Daisy", the fawn they've been raising for a few weeks now. Daisy showed up one day stuck in the fence, after being chased by a dog, with no mother doe in sight. Since it had been chased, needed doctoring from it's collision with the fence, and the folks with the neighboring farm had heard it hollering the day before, it was assumed that this was definately an occasion for intervention. It was a pet-peeve of mine as a Park Ranger that many well-meaning people would mistakenly kidnap fawns from mama deer every year, but in this case I'm certain the fawn needed the help.

Mom and Dad nursed it back to health, gave it antibiotic shots for an infected lip, and now it's growing like a weed. It's nose and mouth are still a little boogered up, but on the mend. He does seem to have a very prominent overbite, which could either be from injury or birth defect. However, it doesn't seemt to affect his eating. The only problem I spotted was the name "Daisy." They took for granted that the fawn was female, not having really investigated the very furry nether regions. And of course, I really have to know these things, so I made the discovery that "she" was really "he", and the name was promptly changed to "Davy."

Davy spends most of his time laying in the tall weeds down close to the creek or out in the blackberry bushes, only coming when he's called for to take a bottle. And he does come running, nearly barrelling over the bottle-holder. He's pretty spooky of people, which is a good thing, but he did get used to me enough to keep me company while berry picking (along with Dixie and Toby the cat), and he came over for a head-scratch from time to time before wandering off.

Aside from picking berries and determining fawn gender, I also went with Dad on a motorcycle ride. Dad's a "Prospect" for a local motorcycle club, and they were participating in a huge area fund raiser for Muscular Dystrophy. This is us heading to Joplin with a group of club riders. The rally was pretty cool - lots of cool bikes, and lots of bikers. I like looking at bikes, and the bikers were no less interesting. Not that I'm bashing bikers at all. Bikers are some of the nicest people out there, who do immeasurable good for various charities - it's just that if I were to become a biker, I'm not sure I'd fit in with appearance. I DID find out, though, that a great place to keep cigarettes is in your bra strap. I assume this provides for easy access and hands-free storage.

Unfortunately the mullet-hunting wasn't very productive at this event. Bikers and bike fans don't seem to sport mullets, instead favoring more normal and likely helmet-friendly hairdos, ranging from shaved heads, to normal hair (Dad fits into this category), to overall long hair pulled into a ponytail. We still haven't quite talked Dad into the clip-on ponytail, but I think it would look dashing, and it might make him feel more like a biker.

The most eye-catching item I spotted was a very prominently displayed belly. This guy was incredibly proud of his rotund appendage, showcasing the roundness for all to enjoy with a inadequate t-shirt and shortie-shorts. It's not certain how this belly was attained. My assumption is years of hard work with beer cans and hot dogs, but one can never be sure with a specemin of this magnitude.