I Can't Believe...

I couldn't believe how long Bessie Anne held a grudge yesterday.  She couldn't believe I'd actually thrown away her very own bone that she had dug up and taken such care with and protected from predatory cats.  She went out into the storm (and it was a real storm all day) to look again several times, and then stayed out on the porch to sulk and make her point, turning her head away and ignoring me when I'd open the door to invite her in.  By afternoon, she was over her snit and finally forgave me.

After days of fussing with Stove with little success, I couldn't believe how quickly the logs lit yesterday (did that really happen?) and how fast the house heated.  Stove's timing couldn't have been better because I came back from the barn totally soaked and cold.  In addition to regular chores, I'd had to extend the ditch in front of the play yard to keep the yard from flooding.  It's meant to be a dry haven for the girls, not a pool party.

I also had to do more fence work on the chicken pen.  I can't believe I didn't do a beak count the night before, but was horrified when I went into the pen and a sodden, pitiful hen came around the corner to meet me.  "How did you get out, sweetheart?  You poor little girl."  No, the small door hadn't come down as I'd feared.  There was another opening under the fence on another side.  Crum.  The saying is "Mad as a wet hen," but this soggy chicken was just grateful to rejoin the flock, get some breakfast, and get inside.  I blocked the hole as best I could, so I was dripping wet before I even got to the barn.

I had a long talk with Pete, my middle son.  After years of living away from his siblings and me, he'll be moving to the Sacramento area in February and that makes me unbelievably happy.  I like having all my chicks "in the nest," so to speak.

Something I can believe in is Santa Claus.  I got into a fight at school when I was a child and some of the other kids were saying he wasn't real.  When I told my mother, she explained that he was real, but when children get too old for toys, Santa's yearly gift was the Christmas spirit.  Didn't I see the smiles on everyone's face and hear the holiday wishes?  Didn't we plan our presents for each other?  That was the real Santa Claus.

I do believe.