The summer days melt into one another. We have had an uncommonly humid July, even by Missouri standards. When we moved here in the 1960s, the British consulate was paid tropical wages for the summer. We grew up without air conditioning, but we were surrounded by trees, which offered welcome shade, and as children, we were fed salt tablets, since we were not acclimated to such heat.

Now, I work in the heat and sweat profusely, salting my food freely to compensate. I really have developed hyperhydrosis (excessive sweating), in old age, which is far preferable to anhydrosis (failure to sweat), a terrifying condition that can occur in horses, and in humans.

So much for today’s health lesson, onward, which is to say, backward to the beginning of this busy week.

Erosion control took up considerable time and energy after a much appreciated heavy rain. It is hard work for an old lady, shoveling limestone screenings. Harlan works in all weather, and always takes time for a visit when I am around.

The cats keep advising me to take it easy in this weather, so I did take a break to get some cat pictures.

You know who is working harder than I am this week? Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird. They have brought 4 more bluebirds of happiness into the world and are feeding them plenty of bugs. It is hard work. Just look at poor, bedraggled Mrs. Bluebird!

A fellow art teacher, Mary Beth, from Harry’s time at MICDS in 2004/2005 came for a visit. She brought a lovely pot of basil she had grown from seed and we had a delightful time with her. Some people grow bitter with misfortune. Mary Beth has had some difficult troubles (brain cancer being a big one) but she is optimistic and kind. We and the animals enjoyed the day.

I had lunch this week with our friend Jane McClaren, who lives in St. Louis. Her partner, Barry, took some incredible pictures of hawks in their back yard. I think they are broad winged hawks. Jane was concerned for them in the heat, but when she took water out, they flew away. They appear to be a pair with a juvenile.

Wednesday evening, I saw Eddy with a Labrador. I assumed it was Roy, but it was not. He was an older and very hot dog, with two collars on, but no tags. We put him in the pen with water to keep him safe while we tried to find his owner. Without success around here, we resorted to calling the Warren County sheriff . Deputy Justin Wade came by and took a picture. At 9:00 PM, there was a knock on the front door, and the owners of Ruger, who, it turns out is 14 years old, arrived to pick him up. They had also thought to call the sheriff! Ruger had wandered off at 1 PM, so he had been gone for over four hours when he showed up here. A happy reunion and a good night’s sleep…

The rain and the heat have produced a bumper crop of chanterelles. Nathan came out and I helped him harvest two bags. Alas, I got a terrible case of oak mites! I thought they arrived in August, so this was a nasty surprise.

Less horrifying is the beauty around us, and seeing much of it from Bart, as we get legged up, just in case…

Yesterday, we drove to Columbia to attend a memorial for Deb Booker, a legendary horsewoman in Missouri. Her daughter, Sarah, is a fixture at horse shows all over the nation as a judge and announcer. We have known Sarah since she was a child. Now she is a grandmother of Deb’s great grandson, Tate, whose first birthday was recently celebrated by Mrs. Booker before she left us.

Known as Mrs. Booker to many of us, as Deb or just Booker to friends, she taught at Stephens College and at William Woods. My first encounter with her was in 1975, when she provided me a horse to ride for my U.S. Pony Club A Test. I failed, but I was grateful and in awe of Mrs. Booker from then on. I didn’t know her well, but I aspired to work as hard as she did and to be as tough and kind as she was.

There is a saying that “if you want to have a big funeral, die young”. Mrs. Booker proved that wrong. She lived and worked for 88 years and a big crowd turned up to say goodbye. Linda and Ted drove all the way from Michigan. There was a sharing of memories, in which the microphone was passed to many and various people whose lives were shaped in one way or another by Mrs. Booker. She was a horsewoman, a mother to three, a collector of rocks (!) and insulators (!!). She was interested in history, politically active and she was an irreplaceable, one of a kind character. She truly “lived until she died”.

Mrs. Booker had asked that in lieu of flowers people should register to vote and vote for their choice. Many memories shared were concerned with horses, but one woman stood up and said that Mrs. Booker taught her to be a Democrat. There were laughs and tears, and it was a special day and a good send off indeed.

Be safe, be well, cherish friends. Slava Ukraini! Peace.