"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society." - Mark Twain

This morning on the way in to church we recalled last Sunday's sermon and the reference to "terrestrial carnivores." Pam had asked what that meant because, as I discovered, she'd confused terrestrial with celestial. That got me to thinking early this morning about celestial carnivores, as in the zodiac, so on the drive in we tried to identify those signs by that criterion. We had trouble because neither of us knows all those signs (I've never understood people who put stock in that system), but I pose to you the question: how many of the 12 signs are carnivores, how many are herbivores, and how many are omnivores?
Go!

And in that conversation I thought of the word, ungulate. I thought it meant an animal with multiple stomachs, but it doesn't. (I looked it up.) Do you know what it means?

Pam's dog has the intellect and instincts of a rock and the drive to match. He doesn't do anything except lie down - preferably in her lap - and eat. The latter activity often involves eating anything, including poop. His own, the chickens', the horse manure I got from across the road for my compost pile.... You'd think that when he pukes massive amounts of grossness all over the floor he'd reconsider his culinary decisions, but he's not bright enough for even that.
The one good thing about having a really stupid dog is that he falls for the same ruse every time. Open the bag with the dog treats in it and he'll run at top speed (slow) back to his crate. He does not like to be left alone (OK, he's fine with me being gone, but Pam...). But since he will never figure out the connection between getting a treat and us walking out the door it's a piece of cake to get him in his crate.

Charles came this afternoon, and his wife Carrie was with him. He's a timber guy and will be doing a sizable job at the lower end of Baker Rd, about 3/4 of a mile away. They've very nice, probably in their late 60's or early 70's, and he's been doing timber all his adult life. I'm guessing that's how he lost that finger on his left hand. Pam and Carrie talked about ??? while Charles and I walked around and talked about trees. He now has a good handle on our problem and the issues involved in solving it - problems like getting their big logging trucks in and out.
He's going to make some phone calls to see what he can get for the White Fir, which are the majority, and for the Douglas Fir that are worth quite a bit more. He said White Fir bring "$100 less per thousand." I asked what that meant but his answer came in logging-speak and it doesn't really matter.
While he's doing his research I'll get information from the State of OR entomologist who will be down from Salem to look things over Thursday morning. Then we'll share results and go from there.
He said it would be late July or early August before he could get in here, but that's OK. I just want it done before fall so I can get the place ready for planting (fruit?) trees in late winter.

Because our cell phones don't work here on the property and long distance calls are crazy expensive on our land line I'm going to drive down the hill to call my dad for a late Father's Day conversation. Then there's a cup of coffee and some fresh brownies waiting for me.