Hummingbird moth

How can I get so old and have never heard of a hummingbird moth?  Three people recently have mentioned them, and then as I was cleaning up on the patio at dusk tonight, I saw one in the petunia/annuals pots.  I thought it was a real hummingbird at first but it was too small and the hummers left this area to go higher up the mountains in July.  

                                   

I have been away from blogger again for a while for several reasons.  Now I will try a quick ? catch-up for the last half of August and into some of September.  

We left Fountain Lake and a delightful camping time with fun friends.  I even tried kayaking.  Old Man fell in the bushes again trying to break off a branch on a stump that the fender got caught on.  That was just as his tail-bone was reviving from the sit-down in the cedar hedge a few weeks before.

  

Then we travelled over Pavilion Mtn. heading to ' Rent-A-Daughter's ' ranch.  Old Man was raised up on the flats on Pavilion Mtn.  He rode a horse, with his brother and sister, 5 miles to school then back uphill every day.  He had a pinto pony.

They rode across this flat then down a steep trail to the schoolhouse in the valley you see beyond the horse.  This drive was a nostalgia trip for him but we will probably never go that way again as it is beautiful but the road is rough gravel, twisty and narrow.  Imagine people today letting their children wander off to school for 10 miles a day, all by themselves, and with no helmets either.  Near Clinton we camped for a night at Kelly Lake and met an old friend named 'Cactus' who was fishing but who also writes books about his youth cowboying and guiding hunters.  He came from Malta of all places, wanting to be a cowboy, but the first time he rode a horse he got bucked off into a prickly pear patch.  The name "Cactus" has stuck with him for 50 years.  We had a good two hour chat.  He has also trained a pair of eagles with young in a tree, to fly by his boat and take fish he caught, from his hand.  They come to his whistle.

We arrived at the ranch in time for the "END OF HAYING" party.  Except that they still had some more haying to do.  They have an interesting BBQ that looks like a motor and the smoke comes out the stacks.

The neighbouring ranchers came with their children in their RVs and stayed to have a campfire gathering until the wee hours, and then sleep overnight in the driveway in their own units.  It is always a relief to get the hay baled and ready to store for winter cattle feeding. They were all ready for a 'blow-out'.  Breakfast was large but the eaters were a little subdued, while we oldsters were in great form. (Hee hee.... as we went to bed at 10 while they called  us 'party-poopers'.)  We just can't cut the mustard anymore.

 The barrel racing horses

have to be worked every day.  They have a new farrier, a girl named Monica, who trained in California.  She does therapeutic work on their feet and legs too.  It is hard, sweaty work.

That is my old mare, Hooch, below, swishing her tail, waiting to be worked on.  She is old and so am I and I don't ride anymore, but the kids like to ride her as she is pretty but gentle and she feels safe to them.

Old Man and I spent most of a day canning peaches and catching up with our laundry.  They were so good and we ate tooooooo many while peeling and packing them into jars. 

 Then the next day Old Man got sick.  Three weeks later he is just starting to perk up.  We thought he had the flu.  I took him away from the ranch to camp at Greeny Lake and let him rest but he just didn't seem to be reviving.  

My friend, Rhonda, came to stay with us for a few days.  We also met a couple I called Punch and Judy, as they were from England, Devon actually.  He was Judy, she was Punch.  I never did catch their real names, so my nicknames just stuck to them.  They were a jolly, easy-going pair.  They have been coming to this area of Canada to camp and explore for 25 years.  They knew about the wonderful walking trails in Derbyshire.  This is their last year and then they are going to concentrate on walking the English shorelines.  He is 76.

They offered to take Old Man to the clinic but he felt a bit better that day.  

We finally decided to go the 2 hours to our own village and settle in at the house we were booked to house-sit for two weeks.  When we went to Emergency it turned out he had a kidney infection and had become dehydrated and needed IVs and antibiotics. 

The IVs worked and the antibiotics slowly cleared things up.  He had hardly eaten anything for 3 weeks and has a poor appetite still.  He is not up to snuff but on the mend, and can walk further every day.  He is just happy to be back where he was born, and can't wait to move into the retirement suite where we will be permanently living, after the end of September.  

.........  to be continued regarding the last weeks as he healed and rested as I was out and about.