We kids?

Sat., February 6, 1937 - I baked a cake and fried a chicken to take to Clara's tomorrow.
Sun., February 7, 1937 - We went to Jensen's this morning.  From there Mike, Jo, Helen, Raymond & we kids went in the bobsled to Clara's for her birthday.
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Fri., February 12, 1937 - Baked cakes today to serve at lodge tonite.  Helen, Raymond, & we kids went to lodge with Mike & Jo in their car.

Is Grandma referring to her and Grandpa as "we kids"?  If so, I'm loving it.

Birthday celebration, and what I hope was a lovely bobsled ride aside, I must share the "fun" I had this morning.

I should have been soundly sleeping at 4:00 a.m. but that was not the case because the one dog was barking incessantly starting at about that same time.  Normally I would go out and see what the problem was, but the smell of skunk spray was already in the house, so I knew what was making the hound bark.  Our closest neighbors are far enough away that the barking wouldn't be bothering them so I wasn't being inconsiderate.  I figured I would not have to go out and deal with the skunk at all as it certainly would soon tire of the noise and wander off.  Wrong. 

I opted to pass on my second hitting of the snooze button around 5:40 a.m. and instead wandered out in the dark with my headlamp for light.  Turns out the poor skunk got itself into the dog's pen and could not get itself out.  So, Roscoe had it in a corner of the pen, barking in its face.  Thankfully it was in a corner with a gate.  Unfortunately, the gate is rarely used and the grass has grown up around the bottom a bit, making it unclear to me if I can even get it open with the speed I am hoping for.

Here's a mental picture --- me, in my nightgown, light strapped to my forehead, at the corner of the fence.  I am trying to get the dog to stop being so excited about its treasure to let me grab his collar on one side of the corner while I'm stretched against the fence trying to keep myself as far from the skunk as possible while reaching for the latch just around the corner on the adjoining side of the pen so the stinky thing can find its way out. 

Remarkably, luck was on my side and the dog let me hold him, the gate did open somewhat, and the confused and likely tired skunk pushed itself right out and wandered off.  Instant silence, but the fog of skunk perfume was still in the air so I have no idea if the dog got himself sprayed or not. 

Don't let anyone tell you I don't live a fascinating life.  I should also mention the female dog was wisely hid inside the garage, as far away as she could get from the noise and smell.  Smart dog. 

Photo from abcwildlife.com