As I said in last week’s picture parade, “A friend from Payson, Arizona, Lew Levenson, recently sent across a set of 38 astounding photographs, all on the theme of perfectly timed shots.” Despite the fact that they had previously appeared in this place, your responses were do delightful that I have no problem in staying with these pictures over the next few Sundays.
Each picture gives one such a warm and cuddly feeling!
Then less than a day later, Rob from Transition Town Payson, sent me a link to the following essay. Regulars will recall that Jean and I lived in Payson for a while before moving to Oregon; indeed were married in Payson.
The Place Where Water Runs Through Rock
Antelope Canyon located in Northern Arizona is well known around the world!
Just outside of Page, Arizona lies Antelope Canyon. Located on the Navajo Indian Reservation. The Dine (The People as the Navajos call themselves), manage the use of the canyon as a Navajo Nation National Park. Antelope Canyon is broken into two sections, Upper Antelope is known as Tse bighanilini which means “The place where water runs through rocks” (aka The Crack), and lower Antelope Canyon is Hasdestwazi or “spiral rock arches” (aka The Corkscrew). Both of these canyons are an awesome display of natural forces at work. Carved by flash floods that are common to the area, this Navajo National Park has been accessible only by Navajo Permits since 1997. The permit system came after 11 tourists from around the world were killed by a flash flood in Lower Antelope Canyon!
For more information on these Canyons go to the following links;
The Navajo language is very descriptive and their words often describe things that they see in the natural world. Hence the name for Upper Antelope Canyon “The Place Where Water Runs Through Rocks”. The language was one that was used by a few heroic Navajo veterans to help win World War II. For example, a Battleship was translated into the Navajo word Lo-Tso which means “Whale”, while a Cruiser was Lo-Tso-Yazzie which meant “Small Whale”.
See the following link for the dictionary they used;
The use of Code Talkers was kept secret for many years!
The Code Talkers were kept secret for 23 years after the end of WWII. President Ronald Reagan gave them a Certificate of Recognition and made August 14, 1982, National Code Talkers Day. On December 21, 2000, President Bill Clinton awarded the surviving Code Talkers Congressional Gold Medals and Silver Medals to the approximate 329 surviving heroes.
A few weeks ago Jean and I were invited to a social gathering with a couple who live about a mile further along Hugo Road. We couldn’t help admiring their young dog; a delightful puppy by the name of Smokey. Smokey appeared to be about ten weeks old and, despite being very puppy-like was, nevertheless, a sweet, friendly, young male dog. Apparently, a mix of a Labrador and a Bordie Collie.
Anyway, last week there was a call from them to say that they were finding the puppy to be too much of a handful and were looking to find Smokey a new home: Did we want first refusal?
Thus it came about that yesterday morning Jean and I drove the short distance to collect Smokey and introduce him to the dog’s circus that is home for us all!
Naturally, the key question would be how would Pharaoh take to Smokey.
A few pictures to tell the tale.
Hello Smokey, I’m Jean and we are hoping you will come home with us and be part of our family.
Well, you certainly seem like a friendly little chap. Let me carry you across to the car.
That’s Paul, your new Daddy! Hold on tight; it’s only for ten minutes.
And here we are at your new home. Going to pop you into a dog crate so Pharaoh can come out and meet you.
So what do we have here? I’m Pharaoh and despite my age, I’m still the boss around here! M’mm, you seem to pick things up quickly!
Ah, that’s good my little friend. You may be young but you seem like a smart puppy. Welcome to the clan!
Many more pictures of Smokey successfully meeting the rest of Pharaoh’s ‘team’ but I will make those a special ‘Smokey’ set of pictures for this coming Sunday.
Let me close this by saying that as I write this post at 2pm yesterday afternoon, Jean is reading a book and about her, in perfect silence and contentment, are Pharaoh, Hazel, Cleo, Sweeny ….. and Smokey!
Then yesterday, around 2pm, we dropped everything to race up to a farmer at Wolf Creek, just a dozen miles North of us, to inspect some hay that was for sale. It was great quality and at $5 a bale the deal of the century. So by the time we had loaded up some bales onto the trailer and returned, unloaded them into the hay loft, organised a bigger trailer from neighbours Dordie and Bill, and I had recuperated under a shower, there was no time at all for today’s post.
Well that larger flatbed trailer was borrowed on Monday evening and early yesterday morning we set off again to Wolf Creek to purchase more bales of hay.
This time we had room for 60 bales, the equivalent of 4,200 lbs in weight. Each bale had to be lifted onto the trailer and stacked carefully.
But at last it was all done, great thanks to Robert who was up at Wolf Creek, and then it was time to head for home.
Impossible not to ignore the beautiful countryside that is so typical of this part of Southern Oregon. (Wolf Creek is less than 15 miles from home.)
Anyway, once back home somehow Jean and I managed to unload and stack all 60 bales, by which time my creative juices were no longer to be found.