38 years ago today, Dad and I were married in the Provo temple. For our anniversary, we’re going to climb Ensign Peak tonight, when I finish teaching my piano lessons. With Dad’s birthday, our anniversary, and Fathers Day all within three weeks of each other, we have lots of celebrating to do.
Dad’s birthday present, which I mentioned in my last letter, was a great success. The two magpies were getting bolder and bolder, and Oreo was looking more and more ragged. Saturday night, he was running along the top of the fence, with the magpies chasing him and pecking his tail. He hopped down and gazed at us, saying “Can’t you do something?” We did. Sunday morning I put out the cat food and left the patio door wide open. Dad crouched down by the refrigerator with his new birthday present. Those bold magpies hopped down to eat the cat food, turning their big bellies broadside to Dad’s sights. He plugged one of them, and it fell over dead. He tried to get the other one, but he couldn’t reload fast enough. All this time, Oreo was hiding in the basement. But when the gunfire was over, he strode out proud as he could be. I carried the magpie carcass out beyond the tower, with Oreo following me, his ears up and his tail up. We threw it in the dirt, as a warning to other magpies. End of story? Not quite. Later I heard more squawking, and I saw Oreo out in the dirt, tossing around the carcass, batting it with his paws, and rolling in the dirt, while the mate screeched at him from the top of the fence. Now other magpies have come around, and Oreo openly taunts them while they squawk at him. I’m sure there will be another chapter to this story.
We had a great Memorial Day weekend. When Dad and I got to the cabin Sunday night, every bed was taken, so we had an opportunity to sleep in the agricultural shed. The “shelves” were very comfortable. The next day we had a great barbecue. Thanks to everyone who planned it!
I’ll be cooking Sunday dinner again on June 13th, and we’ll eat at 5:00 pm. Let me know if you’re coming.
Lots of Love, Mom