When It's Time

Because I know how much work it is for the Kids to bring up and split firewood, I'm pretty frugal with it (I get yelled at for that).  If a jacket in the house works, Stove sits empty.  My personal barometer is my face.  If my cheeks are icy, it's time to bring in a load of wood and put Stove to work.  Yesterday was such a day, and it wasn't just that the storm of the night continued into the morning.  The rain came on and off and the wind was fierce and the house got cold.

I was spared a soaking during chores, catching a moment of drizzle instead of a downpour.  It's all in the timing.  So far, so good with the trees.

It wasn't just me who appreciated Stove.  Celeste finally detached herself from my lap to stretch out in the luxurious heat.  Ralph was busy doing Ralph things and Bessie Anne took advantage of having her dog bed to herself.

I've been playing refrigerator roulette.  I am a compulsive saver of plastic containers and the fridge was packed with Thanksgiving leftovers in yogurt, cottage cheese, and sour cream cups.  Looking for the yams, I find the gravy, etc.  Pulling out the right thing on the first try is like winning the lottery.  A solid week of eating turkey every day is about enough.  I made a tetrazzini last night with the last of the bird and a lot of vegetables and will share it with Camille.  That will save me from eating tetrazzini for another week.  No wonder I fix turkey only once a year. 

O Say, Can You See?

It happens every year, and every year I am surprised at how little rain it takes to activate the waiting seeds.  There, under the dry grasses of summer, you can see the tiny sprouts of next year's supply.  There are just enough to give a green blush to the goat pen, a promise of more to come.

Even after the fellas showed me a third trap on the new vacuum and me following directions, I continued to have the same problem.  I gave up yesterday and called the help line for the company.  I had to laugh when the nice lady named the few places in California where I could take it for service, none closer than two hundred miles away.  I felt doomed.  There was a pause before she said, "Do you see the little red gizzy (she used a more technical term) on the front of the thingie?"  "Yes, I do."  "Try moving it to the left and then the right.  I'll wait."  Ta da!  She said she had the same model and had the same problem and she didn't discover that trick for a year.  I didn't feel so bad.  By the way, that little red gizzy wasn't covered in the instruction manual.

The rain came and went all day.  Bess and I caught a break between showers any time we had to go outside.  But, boy, did a howler come blowing in after dark!  Nonstop winds and pounding rain.  It is the kind of storm that puts me on edge because rain-softened dirt and strong wind is the perfect setup to fell a tree.  Fingers crossed.

Bessie made a quick potty run this morning without getting soaked before the rain started coming down again in buckets.  We're both grateful for the small things.

Two's Company

"Two's company, three's a crowd," so the saying goes.  That may be so, unless there are two cats on one crowded lap.  It's a scientific fact that a sleeping cat immediately gains twenty-five pounds and becomes an immovable object.  Two cats equal fifty pounds.  I begin to lose feeling in my legs and would like to reposition, but no.

The same thing happens at night.  I must get comfortable as soon as I lie down because almost immediately Ralph curls up on one side of my legs and Celeste takes the other and I am effectively pinned under the blanket for the duration by the heavyweights.  There will be no tossing and turning, or even turning over, for me.

Grey and overcast, the rain held off during the day and allowed me to bring another couple of wagon loads of wood to the porch.  I'm in the process of negotiating with a different propane company and a gentleman came to inspect and decide the best way to put in a new tank when the time comes.  We were both pleased not to get drenched.  Bess and I took the trash down to the big road in early afternoon while the rain continued to hold off.  (It came sometime during the night.)

I just felt Ralph's light touch on my shoulder.  I swiveled around and he stepped onto my overworked lap.  It matters not to him that typing with a cat in my arms is difficult.  I think of it as my lap.  Ralph and Celeste know it is theirs.  Sigh.

The Breakfast Club

(The Breakfast Club,"1985, Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwald.)

The sky was just light yesterday when I heard a commotion down at the feeding station.  I kid you not (shades of Jack Paar!), I counted over fifty turkeys, toms and hens, all yelling, "Hey, lady, how about a little service here!  We're waiting, don'tcha know."  The photo didn't capture all of this unruly bunch as some were running back and forth down to the woods.  I think it's important to teach a little self-discipline and explained that I am perfectly willing to provide the food, but the timing is on my terms and they'd just have to wait until sunup and I at least had my clothes on.  You haven't lived until you've been flipped the bird by a bird.

Something set Stanley off.  For a rooster who is normally so silent, he started crowing as soon as I left the pen, and kept it up the whole while I was getting alfalfa and taking it down to the girls.  Go figure.

Tessie's limp has returned, not bad, but there, same foot.  Since it seems to come with the onset of cold or wet weather, I wonder if it isn't caused by arthritis.  There is no swelling and no obvious injury.  It was better by nightfall so maybe she was able to walk it off during the day.

Rain has been forecast for the next five days and it looked imminent when I was going down to the barn last evening.  Because the sky was darkening, I went down a little early, too early it seems.  The Bonzos ("Bedtime For Bonzo," 1951, Ronald Reagan, Diana Lynn) were not ready, and when a goat is not ready, well...you wait.  A couple of does were also too early.  They came casually walking up the driveway, undoubtedly planning to jump the fence and have a little snack of leftover alfalfa, but caught sight of the goats and me still in the yard and changed their mind.

The sky had changed drastically by the time the girls decided that they really didn't want to spend the night outside.  Another pretty picture to end the day.

Morning To Night

The view from Farview is always changing and, in my opinion, always spectacular.  Fall is particularly colorful.  Even the dry grasses in the goat pen provide a layer of contrast next to the fading vines in my neighbor's vineyard.  Beyond the grapes are the oaks down by the big road and behind are the pines on the hill overlooking Fair Play Road to the south.  This photo was taken on the way down to the barn yesterday morning.

While waiting for the Steelers game to start in the early afternoon, I started watching a game I really had no interest in, but it turned into a tight contest and I got hooked.  Thank goodness for halftime so I could bring more firewood to the porch and clean up the kitchen.  Bess and I shared (another) half of a turkey sandwich.  A few more days of a steady turkey diet and we're both going to sprout feathers.

The Steelers couldn't get it together and lost to the Denver Broncos.  Sigh.  Immediately after that game, the Vikings against the Packers came on.  I can always count on exchanging texts with Clay when the Steelers play and with Dave during a Vikings game.  Vikings won!  Another all-day stint of football and I'm going to need a helmet.

The sun caught and highlighted the bright red-yellow of oaks in my yard to the east in the afternoon, too pretty to pass up the opportunity of a snapshot.

Sundown in the west was splashed with its own colors last evening while I was again going down to the barn.

Look in any direction, morning to night, and there is beauty everywhere.

Another Break

After another night of rain, the sun came out yesterday, which was good for me because I needed to (make that had to) make a trip to town.  There hadn't been time before Thanksgiving and I certainly was not going shopping on Black Friday!  After paring the list to bare essentials, I only had stops at two small stores in the "newer" section at the east end of Old Town.  There was very little traffic getting there; it was on the way back that I hit the wall.  That same little stretch of road was jam-packed with bumper-to-bumper cars.  Where did they all come from?  When you're in it, you're in it and there's nothing to do about it.  If a car coming from a side street was foolish enough to want to join the train, I let 'em in.  What was another car going to hurt?  Evidently these people were leftovers from the Black Friday mania epidemic.

With all the shoppers in town, there was very little traffic on Cedar Ravine and Bucks Bar.  There was time to enjoy the beauty of the changing colors in the forest.  Politics aside, looking at the three or more inches of fallen leaves and needles blanketing the ground, I thought it would take an army with rakes to clear the floor, and then what could be done with the mountains of leaves?  I'm not sure that's a feasible plan.

With just the few days of rain, the creeks and river were flowing again.  They'd dried to just a trickle.  If we get another day or two of sunshine, I might be able to mow again without fear of striking a rock and sparking a fire.  I also need to bring more wood to the porch.  After gorging on Friday, Stove's appetite diminished, but he ate up a good amount yesterday, too.

I did not wear the pig hat in the evening and the chickens went calmly to bed.

Town notwithstanding, it was a good day.

True To Form

After that lovely break on Thursday, yesterday we we were right back back to wind and rain and the house was cold.  The goats let me know that they were not happy with conditions and what was I going to do about that?  Being in charge does not give me super powers, regardless of what they think.

There were at least thirty turkeys gathered at the feeding station in the morning, celebrating their own Thanksgiving, thankful that they had survived.  They'd been pretty scarce the couple of days before.

Since I'd not lit a fire the day before, Stove was starving.  He gobbled up wood like he'd never get fed again.  True to form, after a day of activity I had no plans to do anything, but I got my exercise getting up to fetch another helping for Stove, just the same.  I honestly think I slept more than I was awake all day.  Ralph was a permanent fixture on my lap.  Celeste came and went.

Tinka had called in the morning to laughingly ask if I was going to join the hordes of shoppers on Black Friday.  Gahh!!  No, no, and no again!  She knows how eager I am to go shopping on any given day.

Come sundown (I guessed it was sundown as we hadn't seen the sun all day), I got ready to put the kids to bed.  Deb and Craig had given me the great fleece-lined jacket and, true to form, Dave had just presented me with the fleece-lined hat.  I can count on him for at least one pig item a year.  I can't think of anything more ridiculous than an old lady with a pig on her head, but it was cold outside and the hat was warm!  There was a drawback, however.  Ralph thought I'd been taken over by an alien and ran away to hide.  The goats didn't care about anything but getting into their rooms, but the chickens sided with Ralph and scattered instead of going into their coop, rain or no rain.  I had to take the hat off to calm them so I could shut their doors for the night.

I look forward to Saturdays because I usually get an early morning call from Deb.  Today I got a text at 4:30, saying she and Craig were at the airport and waiting to check in for a flight to Hawaii.  It will be their first real vacation together and her excitement was clear even in a text.  They'll have an opportunity to meet up with Larry, too.  Bon voyage, Kids!

Thankful

As promised, the wind died down and the rain stopped.  By the time the Kids started arriving, the sun was shining.  That was a good thing because Craig wanted to get the doors he'd built for the Taj put on right away.  Deb stood guard in case Stanley pulled a sneak attack.  The hens put on a show when one caught a tiny frog and they all played keep-away.  The doors, by the way, make my job so much easier 

I'd been having a problem with the new vacuum cleaner and Jester and Craig figured it out.  There was a place I didn't know about and had not cleaned out.  Another reason to be thankful.

The thing about Thanksgiving dinner is that everything on the menu has to be prepared the same day, nothing can be made ahead.  That pretty much keeps me in the kitchen all day.  I'm not as fast as I used to be and ended up running behind.  Deb stepped up and made the mashed potatoes.  Craig always volunteers to baste the turkey and whatever else is needed to help.  Dave, Clay and Jester started the traditional poker game.  Dave is the official family carver when called on.  Bessie Anne did her part while Dave was cutting the turkey, cruising the floor and cleaning up whatever bits had fallen.  She may not see or hear well, but her nose works just fine.

I couldn't have done it without the Kids' help.  They are such a good team.  The cards and chips were set aside and finally dinner was on the table.  Then when plates were full and forks picked up, there was the sound that every cook wants to hear...the silence that comes when guests are simply enjoying the meal.

After dinner, the crew went to work clearing the table, portioning out leftovers, and Deb and Craig filled the dishwasher and washed and dried all the inevitable pots and pans while I sat like Lady Astor's horse, thankful for their help and just to sit down.  When there was nothing else to do, and I do mean nothing, the cards and chips came out again.  I'd hoped to get the Kids out of the hills before the rain started, but when you're late, you're late.  Tryptophan kicked in and Craig had a good nap, waking in time for the pecan pie made in celebration of his upcoming birthday (it's his favorite).

About 7, everyone loaded up their care packages, gave kisses and hugs all around, and headed home in the light rain, calling out, "Love you!"

They don't call it Thanksgiving for nothing.

Early Bird

This will be short today as I've got to get the bird (turkey) in the oven and I didn't wake up until 4:30.  That said, nothing, but nothing gets done until I finish my coffee.  So there.

Didn't get much rain yesterday, but, wow, a lot of strong wind all day.  It was surprisingly warm.  That took one of the chores off the To Do list.  Not much sense in clearing off the deck when leaves were falling in a veritable blizzard.  The wind is howling again this morning and there's a pretty good rainfall.  I hope the forecasters are right.  They said most of the day should be dry today, with rain again about nightfall.  That would let the Kids get up and back down without a problem.

Thanksgiving dinner isn't particularly difficult, but there's a lot of fussy prep work, chopping and dicing, etc.  Trying to cut back, tearing up just three loaves of bread instead of the usual six or so for the stuffing hardly seemed worth the effort.  Almost everything on the To Do list got done...whew.

Turkey to stuff, pies to bake (I have double ovens), cranberry sauce to make...and there goes the last of the coffee.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Territory

It's funny how we are all so territorial.  I noted in school years ago that where a student sat on the first day of class became "their" desk and they sat there for the rest of the semester.  Rarely were there disputes because everyone else had staked out their own territory, too.

The loveseat is Bessie's spot to nap.  The slipcover always looks like this (unless company is coming).  I leave it this way because my old girl can't jump up anymore.  It's hard to watch her struggle and it takes awhile, but finally she gets it done.  She'll get her forefeet up on the cushion, and one hind leg.  Then, with great effort, she gets the other hind foot up as far as the folds and uses them as a sort of ladder step to push/pull herself up on the couch.  No wonder she sleeps well when the deed is done.

There is a dog bed beside "my" chair that is Bess's other spot.  She gets discombobulated when Celeste, who thinks the whole house is her territory, lies down on the dog bed.  Bessie stands and looks at the cat and the mental telepathy is almost audible.  "But that's my spot.  You're in my spot!"  The cat doesn't care.

We all have our self-assigned places on the bed at night.  Lucky for me, they leave me just enough room to lie down on "my" side.

Countdown

As our late friend Dan would say before we were all to go camping, "Two more days and a wake-up!"  Thanksgiving is just around the corner and, as usual, I'm not ready.  Like a deer in the headlights, I look at the To Do list and get stunned into immobility.  I'm old enough to know there's no magic wand I can wave and make it happen, drat it, and still....  With everything there is to accomplish in the house, there are other priorities, too.  Literally scraping the bottom of the barrel and with rain due tomorrow, I had to go to the feed store for chicken scratch.  They can't eat excuses.  The new owners have taken over at Mt. Aukum.  It was very strange; I've been dealing there with Dave for over twenty years.  The new gentleman was very pleasant, but completely unknowledgeable about livestock feed.  I was able to show him on his lists what it was I needed and we got the deed done.  Patrick hoisted the fifty-pound sack of scratch to his shoulder like it was a bag of potato chips.  It was not the same with me when I got it home.  Even with the help of the wagon, the effort of getting it inside wiped me out.

So much for housework.  Like Scarlett O'Hara, I live by the motto, "Tomorrow is another day."  The problem now is, tomorrow has become today.

Beauty And The Beast

Helper Dude came early in the day and gave Bessie Anne's nails a much-needed trim.  Time slips by and I didn't realize how long her nails had gotten until I heard her tick-tick-ticking across the kitchen floor.  HD is always so very gentle with her, but Bess is not a fan of pedicures.  He uses a very quiet Dremel tool to smooth rough surfaces after clipping and I think she doesn't like the vibration.  Being flipped on her back doesn't thrill her, either.  She doesn't fight the indignity, but, oh, the look in her eyes.  HD is well-practiced and the whole procedure takes less than ten minutes.  Ta da!  Bess gets up, shakes herself off, and looks to me for the treat she knows I'll have for her.  That, and lots of reassurances that she looks beautiful.  I'm sure she must be more comfortable now.

Later on, it came to me that the house was not warming up, even though the sun was shining.  I weakened and decided to light a fire.  Where I go, Bess goes, and we went out on the porch to get wood.  She showed particular interest in a spot in the corner by the rack.  Hmmm.  There was a splotch of blood and the one organ (I think it was the stomach) that predators will not eat.  I've found such squirrel remains before, but never so close to the house.  Whatever beast it was had been pretty darned bold.

The Seahawks played a tight game, the Steelers came from behind to win, Bowyer made the top ten in Stage 3, but the Vikings were just miserable.

Larry called from Hawaii, the house was warm, it was a good day.

Bird Brain

Turkeys are just plain weird.  How can birds smart enough to elude hunters and most predators and fly 50-60 feet up to roost in a tree at night suddenly forget how to get out of the goat pen?  I've seen it happen time and time again.  Yesterday morning a group of toms had gone into the pen.  All but one flew out when I approached.  The one saw them fly out!  Distraught, he started walking the fence line, calling all the while, "Hey, fellas, don't leave me!  Come back!  I'm all alone!  Help, I'm stuck here!"  I thought his memory might come back when I entered the pen, but no.  Back and forth, back and forth.  This went on the whole time I was tending to the girls and Missy.  "Help!  Help!"  I think it might have gotten on Sheila's nerves because when I let the goats out, she went up for a closer look and almost nosed him.  That didn't stop him, he just walked a little faster, still crying.

His tribe was gathered in the front yard.  "Oh man, Wilbur has done it again.  He never learns.  Fly in, fly out.  It's so simple.  I guess we'll hang out here until he figures it out.  Again."  Maybe the gang coached him or his bird brain started functioning, but he wasn't in the pen later in the day.  Go figure.

Wouldn't You Know?

Nature is about as perverse as they come.  After such a prolonged dry spell, wouldn't you just know that rain is predicted for Thursday next week?  Couldn't she wait another day or two and let company come and go on a dusty, dry dirt road instead of slushy mud?  Ratchafratch.  I'm certainly not complaining about the prospect of long-awaited, much needed rain, only the timing.  She does love to play dirty tricks.

I did get the hole(s) in the chicken pen filled yesterday.  In addition to the cavern in the yard, there was a smaller one inside the coop.  If any of the girls had laid an egg, if would have rolled down that chute right into a waiting mouth.  I put an end to that curb service.

Missy is filling out nicely.  She'll probably never be plump as she's a busy, busy girl, but at least her ribs aren't sticking out anymore.  She comes running up the path to meet me every morning and, boy, does she know the routine.  She leads the way to the barn and we go into the milking (now feeding) room.  She jumps up on the stand while I fill Sheila's bowl with cereal that she won't eat and Li'l Miss goes in circles until she gets a good petting.  The she leads the way back to her stall (in case I forget) so I can fill her dish.  Her mission accomplished, she purrs loudly while she chows down on breakfast.  At night when the goats are out, she just waits in her room for dinner.  There's no guaranty she'll stick around, but I think she's here for the winter.

True to form, after the stress of shopping yesterday was a day off.  I've got to get off my rusty-dusty today and get ready for guests next week, including bringing firewood to the porch.  Flatlanders don't tolerate cold very well.

Shop Till You Drop

Another look at the calendar sent me into a panic.  Thanksgiving is next week!  It was a case of go shopping yesterday or lock the doors and hide when company comes on Thursday.  Okay, fine...I went shopping.  Knowing that I could find everything needed at the market in Cameron Park, I headed down the hill.  Good grief!  There was certainly smoke up at my place, but dropping farther down was like driving into a fog bank, the smoke was that thick.  The sun was obscured and I could feel it in my eyes and throat, but still I knew it was worse in the valley and up north.  Yuck.

Steve, and later my friend Doris, and I used to go to this market once a week and I knew the aisles like the back of my hand.  Now I go there once a year to buy supplies for Thanksgiving.  They always have a great deal on turkeys and carry a lot of specialty items.  My problem was I didn't have a road map and spent a lot of time cruising up and down and back and forth.  Whoever planned the layout and I differ on what items should be grouped on shelves together.  When the signpost says "Nuts," why were the large bags of pecans across the store next to syrup?  I am not an impulse buyer on the best of days so their plan was for naught.

Deb and I had talked, not about the menu (which never changes), but quantity.  I like to send home large care packages of leftovers so the working crowd is set for lunches and dinners, and cook accordingly.  This year Deb and Craig are leaving on vacation that weekend, Dave usually gets a bonus turkey from work, and Jester always declines, so that leaves Clay and me.  I bought a 20-pound turkey, the smallest bird I've ever gotten, and plan on five instead of ten pounds of potatoes.  I feel like a piker.

I was ahead of most of the after-work traffic and was never so glad to get home.  The turkey will have time to thaw and the breakfast room table is the staging area and stocked with supplies.  All in all, shopping notwithstanding, it was a good day.

Not The Only One

It wasn't just me who appreciated Stove a couple of nights ago.  Celeste staked out her favorite cold-weather spot in front of the hearth.  "What took you so long, Mom?"  The house critters are very democratic.  When they've toasted both sides, they move away and let another take the warm place.

Yesterday was a keep-your-jacket-on day, but not cold enough to call Stove to duty.  I will say, however, that in the evening two cats on the lap were better than one.  What's a little crowding among friends?

For the last week I've been engaged in battle with another unknown Thing.  It's probably a ground squirrel, but the size of the crater it makes in the little chicken pen is big enough for a badger.  I fill it in every morning, and every night the hole is there again.  I'm going to have to pull out the big guns.  The only effective way I've found to permanently plug a tunnel is (don't judge me) to empty the cats' litter box in the opening and cover it with dirt.

Tessie gets better every day.  Yesterday she actually ran up the hill, and by bedtime she had no hint of a limp.  Whew!  Both goats' tails have stopped whirling.  The period in heat never lasts long.

'Tis The Season

It's not just the deer that have mating on the mind.  Both goats came into season at the same time and their tails are whirring so fast I really expect to see their hind ends lift up and hover.  I'm happy to report that whatever was wrong with Tessie's foot seems to have healed or, as I suspect, what was probably a rock was dislodged.  If she had let me, I could have helped her days ago.  Silly girl.

My shirts are a pretty good indicator of the changing weather.  I've gone from tank tops to tee-shirts and now I'm in long sleeves.  Yesterday I put on gloves to go down to the barn.  I know it's still in the 40s, but the house was colder inside than outdoors.  Sitting outside on the deck didn't help much as the sunshine was weak, trying to get through the smoke from the valley.  Coming back in and shivering, I thought to myself, "Self, this is ridiculous.  The Kids split all that wood for just this reason," and I lit up Stove for the first time this season.  Good old Stove.  He fired up right away and the house was warm in no time.  I didn't want to get caught making another midnight trash run again, so Bess and I went down to the big road in the afternoon.  Omigosh, coming back to a warm house was pure bliss.

I've really got to keep a closer eye on the calendar.  Thanksgiving is coming faster than a freight train and I'm not ready (but I'll be vacuumed!).  The menu never changes, so making a shopping list is a breeze, but it does require that I go shopping.  Aarrgh.  And then will come Christmas....

Yup, the holiday season is upon us.

Haute Couture

I made a quick trip up to Holiday yesterday.  I needed just a few things and it wasn't worth going into town.  As I approached the store from the parking lot, a little old man who had been sitting outside hurriedly came toward me pushing a grocery cart.  "Here ya go, ma'am."  Turns out he had a table set up to hopefully collect donations for veterans.  He, himself, had on a veterans cap and a VFW jacket.  From his age, he probably was in Vietnam or earlier.  There are two funds to which I will drop a bill in the can or bucket:  Veterans and the Salvation Army.  This gentleman insisted I have one of the VFW Buddy Poppies and showed me where he thought it would look best.  I'd have loved to talk with him, but another shopper was approaching and he took his self-imposed duty of providing a cart seriously.

I am definitely starting a fashion trend.  The last time I was shopping in town, I was stopped by a lady who wanted to know where I got my bibbies.  She wanted a set for gardening.  They are surprisingly hard to find.  The same thing happened yesterday at Holiday.  Again I explained I go online to shop.  (Dickies should give me a discount for advertising.)  Later, a man stopped me, saying he hadn't seen anyone wearing bibbies in over twenty years.  It's a trend, I tell you!

Finished shopping, I put my groceries in the truck and started to return my cart to the store.  (I'm one of those who always walks the cart back; it's so irritating when they're left in the parking lot.)  Before I could get there, that gentleman again came hurrying to me to take the cart back himself.  What can you say but thank you?

As Luck Would Have It

If I seem to wax rhapsodic about something as mundane as a vacuum cleaner, it's because this thing is amazing.  For someone who grew up with an effective but heavy and clumsy Electrolux canister that had to be dragged around, the advancements in technology leave me gobsmacked.  I thought when the cyclonic cleaners that didn't need replacement bags were as good as it was going to get.  This new one swivels so it can get into crevices and has such a low profile that it could go under the armoires where no other vacuum could reach.  Aren't I the lucky one that the Kids made exactly the right choice for me?

As for Clint Bowyer, if it weren't for bad luck, he'd have no luck at all.  He started the race yesterday toward the back of the pack and had worked his way up to seventh place in the last stage and then his car was wrecked and he got a DNF (did not finish).  That put him out of contention for the big-money race this year.  Phooey.

My heart breaks for the thousands of people displaced and the devastation of the Camp Fire up north.  Entire towns and hundreds of thousands of acres have been burnt to ash.  For the second season, family members have lost their homes, but luckily escaped with their lives.  First responders in all departments deserve all the support and gratitude we have.  Once again, California, north and south, is under attack by fire.  I try to stay apolitical, but when POTUS declares it is our own fault and threatens to withhold aid, I find that despicable.  We're not exactly in charge of climate change and years of drought have left us vulnerable.

Let's hope the forecasters are right.  With any luck we could get some rain by next week.  Fingers crossed.

Holiday Season

I don't care what the calendar said, yesterday was Christmas at my house.  Deb and Craig arrived and they came bearing gifts.  Yes, Santa has helpers.  Seeing the Kids was the best present, but then they started unloading their truck.  Good grief!  There were Meyer lemons from their tree and treat after treat from Costco, including a big bag of pistachios (I'm addicted).  I'm set for cold weather with a bright-red plaid flannel jacket with fleece lining; how luxurious is that?  In keeping with the out-of-season holiday, there was even a bottle of boozy eggnog!  I immediately turned on some appropriate music to help the spirit.  They also brought KFC, which they said they only have when they come up here, and the same goes for me.  I never want to take the time to stop to eat anywhere on a trip to town; I just want to get home.  Gosh, everything tasted so good, and I'm sure the company had a big part in that.

And then...and then came the biggie, a new, high-end vacuum cleaner!!  The last one I'd bought was still standing in the living room, abandoned due to my frustration with its inefficiency.  Craig put the new one together (he'd heard about my two-day episode with the old one) and we gave it a trial run.  As Willie Nelson would say, it could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch!  It is cordless, how do they do that?, so I'll be saved having to plug and unplug when going from room to room.  If I saw the Kids any oftener, I'd have told them to enjoy themselves while I finished cleaning.  Who knew vacuuming could be fun?  NASCAR or no NASCAR, I know what I'll be doing today.

Craig traditionally takes a nap when they come up, and Deb and I played catch up.  That in itself is a gift.  Later, we all went out so I could introduce the Delawares, especially since they're now living in the Taj that Craig built.  The door that Clay cut is, as he knew it would be, fine as a makeshift cover, and Craig immediately started planning how he'd make permanent doors.  That will be great if and when we get rainy weather.

The deer are in rut now and oblivious to traffic, so it was important for the Kids to get out of the hills before dark, but it was hard to say goodbye, even with "Love You" echoing down the drive.  I put the critters to bed and went in the house to relive a truly great day.

Some while later the phone rang.  It was Deb saying they'd be back shortly as she'd left her wallet on the table.  Those poor Kids, it's a long enough trip as it is, and having to double back just made it longer.  Sure enough, they'd seen a number of deer roaming around on the roads, including three bucks, one in my yard.  It did give me another chance to say thank you and "Love you!"  Christmas doesn't get any better.

On The Horizon

The view from Farview got a change recently.  There was a lot of activity on my neighbor's property with heavy equipment, but it all went on just over the hill so I couldn't satisfy my curiosity.  The only reason I know for sure what the enormously tall pole is for is because a couple of workers bringing more equipment got lost and ended up in my driveway asking for directions.  It's some kind of newfangled telephone pole!  I can't say it's a thing of beauty or that it adds to the view of the horizon, but I am grateful that it's not directly in my line of sight and somewhat off to the side.  Oh well.

Without going to the store, I was trying to come up with a little something, anything, to serve to Arden as an appetizer, using ingredients on hand.  Rummaging through the pantry and freezer, I came across a package of frozen pie dough left over from baking a single-crust pie in the past.  (I always make a double batch.)  Hmmm.  It came to me that I've not made an onion-and-bacon pie in years and that would be perfect, good at room temperature if our visit was delayed, which it was.  Since my friend arrived closer to the dinner hour, I threw in some roasted Brussels sprouts and we called it a meal.  I always enjoy Arden's visits, not least because we have such wide-ranging conversations.

And what's on my horizon today?  A confirmed visit from Deb and Craig!  Whoopee!!

Erratum:  I shortchanged the Panthers yesterday.  They actually got 21 points, not the 14 I stated.  (They still lost big time.)

Mystery

Sometimes a thing occurs so gradually that you don't know it's happening until it's done.  The ground squirrels have gone missing.  Oh, there's a token gang of five to nine still hanging around in the front yard, but I don't hear Shaddup yipping anymore and, come to think of it, I can't remember the last time I saw Robert the Raider on the deck.  Turk doesn't come to sit on the bird feeder in the morning.  The pens that teemed with the furry critters are empty.  Believe me, I'm not complaining, but where did they go, and why?

Did I mention the leaves?  The wind that sprang up yesterday did not clear the deck for me, but generously piled up this mess by and on the front porch, nearly burying the garden pigs.  Raking now would be an exercise in futility because the oaks haven't dropped their full load.  Sigh.

I don't see Missy on every trip to the barn, but she's not missing a meal.  Her bowl is empty every time.  I wonder where she went for so long and why, another mystery.

The Steelers/Panthers game last night was a rout:  52-21!  The Steelers were virtually unstoppable.  Yay!  The Vikings are doing well, too.

Arden is coming over this afternoon and (shhh, I don't want to jinx it) Deb and Craig are planning to come up tomorrow.  I don't mind dusting when there's a real reason for it.

Over And Done

Whew!  I, for one, am so glad to see the end of the many, many political campaign ads on TV.  The mute button got a real workout because of all the rancor and down-and-dirty mud slinging.  There's enough meanness in the world without having it in my living room.  Hopefully it will be two years without any more.

Tessie has been limping for two days now.  She won't let me touch her leg so I can't tell the cause.  It could be something as simple as a stone or sticker between her toes, but I can't look if she won't get up on the stand.  I have liniment if it's a strained muscle.

Sheila, on the other hand, has developed a bad case of the needies.  She's waiting when I come out of the barn to rub against me and then won't move until I scratch her head and talk sweet talk to her.  Then she walks beside me up to the gate, preferably with my hand on her back.  I guess we're besties now.

The hens have not laid an egg since the move.  I don't know enough about their reproductive systems, but I hope they're not stacking eggs inside.  How uncomfortable would that be?

What a difference the comforter made last night.  My niece in New Hampshire gave a hoot when I told her yesterday that we're down in the 40s at night.  Yeah, it's all relative.

A pretty good wind has sprung up.  With any luck it will blow a lot of those leaves off the deck and save me some work.  Odds are, though, that it will just bring more.  Oh well, they don't call it fall for nothing.

Comfort

It was good to see the little front parking lot full at the voting place yesterday and every booth (all four) was occupied.  I had to chuckle about all the fancy electronic voting devices on the news when I saw we had to provide our own pen to darken the ovals on the ballot.  Yup, we're country.

Having skipped a nap (I'm trying hard to get with the new time), it was inevitable that I'd fall asleep in the chair last night and not wake up until midnight.  What a time to remember that I'd not taken the trash down to the big road.  Bessie Anne must have thought I'd slipped a cog, but a trip in the truck is a trip in the truck, so she went out in the dark, too.  I didn't know if it would be better to try to be quiet and be thought a prowler or let people think there was a crazy person emptying trash in the middle of the night.  I opted not to prowl.

Even with a jacket on, it was darned cold out there.  I heated the bean bag to take to bed and couldn't wait for the cats to take their self-assigned places on my feet.  It still took forever to get (back) to sleep and I overslept this morning.  The comforter is going back on the bed tonight.

I haven't seen any election results yet, and am taking comfort in my ignorance for the time being.

Her Brother's Keeper

"Oh, he's done it again."  Celeste must get so irritated with Ralph.  Ralph is very good about using the litter box, but somewhat lax when it comes to the after business.  Instead of hiding his contribution with litter, he'll give a few token scratches outside the box, call it good, and wander off.  Celeste comes along afterward and I can almost hear her harrumph of disgust before she covers her brother's mess herself.  I've considered getting his and hers litter boxes, but there's no guarantee Ralph would confine himself to one.

I doubt Missy has put in a change-of address card, but she was there for both meals again yesterday.  After feeding well for just a couple of days, her ribs aren't nearly so visible.  For a cat, she shows her gratitude well by rubbing up and purring before diving into her dish.  She may take off again one of these days, but I'm awfully glad she showed up again.

I pared down my list so that I could confine my shopping to the east end of town.  Getting to the west side at this time of year takes for-ev-er due to traffic from the many Apple Hill visitors.  There is a section of Hwy50 that runs past old Placerville and it is a bottleneck at the best of times and terrible during apple season...and ski season.

Once the time changes, I have to get to town earlier because I have to get home before the earlier sundown to put the kids to bed.  I did wish on the way home that there were places to pull over on Cedar Ravine so I could take a picture of the light shining on all the colors of the trees:  reds, gold, and different shades of green.  There are pullouts on Bucks Bar, but the trees along there are mostly pine, and they stay green in the fall.

Today is Election Day, and it is up to the voters to be America's keeper.  I have never been as emotionally vested in an election ever before.  Voting is a privilege and a duty, and I hope the nation's electorate takes it seriously.  Count me in.

Whacked

Turns out "whack/ed" is one of those multiple-meaning words that happens to fit my reaction to the time change, which, in my opinion, is whacky (crazy).  It has definitely thrown my system out of whack (order), and I know for sure that I'm whacked (exhausted), probably because I'm up and drinking coffee at the new 2 a.m.  And that's all I'm going to say about that.

I don't know when Missy had her last good meal, but she was in the barn morning and night and emptied her bowl at breakfast and dinner yesterday.  Poor little waif.  She makes me think of Wheeler, the orphan boy in "The Mudlark" (1950, Irene Dunn, Alec Guinness, Andrew Ray), sitting under the table stuffing food into his mouth.

Another feline visitor was not so welcome.  Twice yesterday I heard the chickens go into a panic.  For birds who are normally silent, they were screaming at the top of their lungs.  I know their new cage is secure, but still.  The first time, Bess and I went out to investigate, and a cat (not Missy) took off running.  It's pretty ambitious for a house cat to look at a full-size bird and think "chicken dinner."  Bessie caught the scent and charged off to war.  It was a mistake on my part to let her come with me because my old girl could hardly make it back up the hill.  Back at the house, she flopped down and was nearly comatose the rest of the day.  It scared me that she might have a heart attack   The second time the chickens fired off, I was careful not to let the dog come with.  Fortunately, she never heard the birds.  It was even hard to wake her up at bedtime.  She was whacked.

Can't Help Myself

I'm so predictable.  I swore I would not launch into criticism of the time change this year, my semiannual rant.  It's not working.  Where's that extra hour of sleep they kept promising?  I dutifully turned my clocks back last night...what had been the reasonable bedtime of 11 p.m. became the way-too-early 10 o'clock.  I'm at that stage in life where five hours is a good night's sleep and boink! when the eyes open, I'm awake.  That's why I'm drinking coffee and sitting at the computer at 3:15 a.m.  It's going to be a long, cranky day.  There is a measure on the ballot to allow California to join Arizona in stopping time change.  Want to guess which way I'll be voting?  Yup, you'd be right.

I had plans to do this, that, and the other thing yesterday, forgetting that Saturday is the day to watch back-to-back cooking shows.  That's okay, there'd still be time after the last one to get stuff done.  Maybe not the trip to town, but some stuff.  Then I made the mistake of doing a quick channel flip and discovered that the Breeder's Cup races at Churchill Downs were coming on.  Even more than NASCAR, I love horse racing.  I was pretty lucky with my imaginary bets, especially in picking the winner of the last race of the day.

Guess who showed up to meet me at the barn yesterday?  After such a long time gone, there was Missy again.  I don't know where she's been or why she stopped coming here, but the poor little girl was so skinny it hurt my heart.  Since I quit taking food down for an absentee cat, all I could do was apologize for being empty handed.  Before bringing the goats out, I sat on the stand with her and she climbed right onto my lap, purring loudly.  I hope she gives me another chance today because I will come bearing breakfast, for sure.

NASCAR is running in Texas today.  So much for getting anything done.  Oh well.

Work It Out

As one does given a new situation, it takes a while to adapt and work things out.  Yesterday I figured a way to cut at least one back-and-forth trip while tending to the chickens .  Stanley likes the new pen.  He doesn't have to run as far to catch the girls to get his morning jollies.  I'm not sure the ladies feel the same.

The servants got a workout yesterday.  They washed clothes and did dishes.  I just can't convince them to do the followup.  I still have to hang the laundry and fill the cupboards.  As my father would say, "You'd complain if they hanged you with a new rope."  Sigh.

I have mechanical servants; Bess has me.  Since she has lost her hearing, there's no such thing as an "indoor voice."  If I'm not paying attention or moving too slow to suit her highness, she gives a short, loud bark.  If my mind is elsewhere (and it usually is), it can scare the snot out of me.  "Open the door NOW."  "I want my cookie NOW."  "Boost me up on the bed NOW."  Of course, I rush to do her bidding.  I do what the cats want, too, but they don't yell at me.

For whatever reason, the wild things are slurping up water like crazy.  Their big water pot (several gallons) is nearly empty every morning  That's not unusual in the heat of summer, but it is in this cool weather.  Ah, well, mine is not to wonder why, my job is to keep them hydrated.

Get Used To It

The Delawares seem to be getting used to living in an apartment instead of a big house and having a much more confined yard.  I guess it's one thing when they decided to huddle up together in the coop at night and another when they don't have a choice.  Let's just say they were quite ready to jump out of the Taj in the morning and spent the day outside inspecting their new playground.  They even went in without an argument at sundown.  I'd been worried about that.

I'm still working on a new routine to care for the little kids.  Everything was close at hand in the big coop:  the feed barrels were right there inside and the feeder for the lay pellets hung from a rafter, the gate was just a few steps from the alfalfa, and the water faucet was right outside the pen.  The Taj is at the back of the building down the long side, so it takes quite a few trips to get the chickens set for the day.  Oh well, they say walking is good for you and I might as well get used to it.

It was a couple of degrees warmer yesterday, a really pleasant day, and I took advantage to hang some laundry on the line and even sat out on the deck for awhile.  Bess was in no hurry to come back in the house, either.  The temperature dropped after dark and Ralph climbed into the cat cave at bedtime, something he hasn't done for a long time.

It was a good day.

Make Your Move

A day of company (or a trip to town) followed by a day of rest; that seems to be the pattern anymore, and not much got done yesterday.  The girls had let me know from the beginning that they did not like the dry cob feed.  I did tell them that the sooner they finished the bag, the sooner I could go get them the sweet cob they prefer, but they don't listen to me.  Now we just go through the motions because Sheila might crunch a mouthful or two in the morning before saying she's full and Tessie won't even get up on the stand.  I understand, but there is a problem:  I have real trouble with the weight of the bags, and there is a lack of space in the barrel.  Maybe the chickens would eat dry cob, but it is still in the now-opened sack, which would make it more difficult to move back up the hill.  The goats aren't going hungry because they can fill up on alfalfa and the dry grasses in the pen, but still.

The day-to-day tragedies of late, the political news and constant mud-slinging by candidates for office is depressing.  Looking for some lighthearted relief, I sorted through recorded programs and came across "Goodbye Christopher Robin."  A movie about Winnie the Pooh...that should do it!  Wrong.  It is a beautifully filmed, heart-wrenching biographical story about parents unable to express emotions and the little boy desperate for affection.  Spoiler alert: it did have a satisfactory ending.

I waited until well after dark before putting on my lighted hardhat to go out and move the chickens to their new home.  I was a bit worried about possibly waking and picking up Stanley.  That boy has some wicked spurs that could do some real damage.  Moving the first three went without incident, the chickens hardly opening their eyes.  The fourth had realized she was alone and was the only one who protested being picked up.  I explained it was for her own good and would keep her safe from the wild things, but, like the goats, she didn't listen.  I got them tucked in and put the door in place.  Whew.  All's well that ends well.

It hadn't gotten even into the 70s yesterday and the temperature drops heavily at night.  Doors are shut and the jacket stays on.  Hey, I'm not complaining!

It sure made for a spectacular sunset...a good day.