Consistent

True to form, after the hoopla of Saturday, yesterday was a day off, a day to reheat the chile verde, watch football, and keep the fire stoked.   Once upon a time I would have written a flurry of thank-you notes to send in the mail.  Having moved into the "modern day," (how modern can you be with a wood stove and a well?) I sent thank-you texts to the Kids.  Some habits are hard to break, and many are worth keeping.

On the subject of consistency, I make no pretense of liking to leave home on any given day, but today, New Year's Eve, is going to be a real bummer.  I have to go down to Cameron Park to meet with a new oncologist.  The very last thing I want to do is be on the road today.  Admittedly, the appointment is in the early afternoon and the nutsos will probably not be out in force, but still....  Sigh.

Might as well stick with the program and finish today's entry and the last for this year with a photo of last evening's sundown.

Happy New Year from Bessie Anne, Ralph, Celeste, Sheila, Tessie, Stanley and his girls, and me!

It's Been Said

I've said it before and will undoubtedly say it again...it's not the when one celebrates, it's with whom that creates a holiday.  Yesterday was Christmas for the clan regardless of the date.  The Kids arrived early and they all set to work stacking the wood rack to the top.  It was in their best interest, as well as mine.  I'd been busy in the kitchen most of the morning and hadn't lit Stove before they arrived.  As is the norm with us, it wasn't long before the poker chips and cards came out.  It's what we do.  One doesn't start out to make traditions, they evolve with time.

When the chile verde had simmered long enough, we took a break to fill up and warm our insides.  Thankfully, Stove had gotten over his snit and was doing a good job of heating the house yesterday.  After the meal, it was time for presents.  With no little children in the family, we set a minimal limit on gifts, although I will say that the Kids don't always follow the guidelines when it comes to their Mom.

Back to the poker games!  My stacks of chips grew and I'm happy to report I was the big winner for the day.  That doesn't happen all that often, and I'll take my $5.50 and gloat for awhile.

As the sun was setting, it was time for the Kids to get out of the hills before dark, and I needed to put the girls and chickens to bed.  Hugs and "Love you's" all around, and Christmas was over.  It was a good day.

Time Warp

I seem to have gotten myself into a time situation in which I keep moving but not going anywhere and definitely not forward.  I'll catch up after "my" holiday.

Waiting

My mother would say I'm "moving as slow as winter molasses," and she'd be right.  I see what needs to be done, I make lists of things that need doing, I fret about what hasn't been done, and do I do 'em?  I do not.  Today is the deadline and I'm right up against it.  Talk about being your own worst enemy.  Maybe I just need a challenge in my life.  It will be interesting to see if I can move fast enough to pull the fat out of the fire before the Kids get here tomorrow.

Yesterday was just as cold as the day before, and today we're predicted not to reach mid-forties.  As my son would say, yippee skippy.  I see wagons of wood in my future.

Celeste seems to have learned her lesson from her adventure in the great outdoors.  Now she runs away down the hall if I even open the door.  Just as well.  We wouldn't want a repeat of that outing.

I'm waiting for daylight and a bolt of lightning to get me started, whichever comes first.

Frozen

No, I'm not talking about the movie "Frozen"...I mean it was freezing all day yesterday.  By the time I had crunched through the thick layer of frost to let the chickens and goats out in the morning, I literally could not feel my face.  Stove picked a heck of a day to get cranky.  Ordinarily I give him one block of fire starter and he lights right up.  Yesterday he gobbled three and still gave off just a feeble heat.  I was not happy.  I needed to warm the house for the kids in the house as I had to go to town and it wouldn't have been kind to leave them in an igloo.

Going to town wasn't the odious task I anticipated.  Truck has a good heater and it was the first time I was warm all day.  Stamps were on the "must get" list.  With my usual exquisite timing, I missed the window of time.  Our little rural post office closes for lunch between one and two and I hit right in the middle.  Drat.  Of course I forgot that errand on the way home.  Double drat.

Back home, I was doing this, that, and the other thing when I noticed that the kitchen door hadn't shut completely, and I was another kind of frozen.  Oh no!  Where were the cats?!  For a minute, I couldn't move.  A wave of relief swept over me when I saw Ralph, but where was Celeste?  I raced through the house calling her name, but no Celeste.  Oh, please.  If I was afraid for her, she must be terrified.  I went out on the deck to look and said a prayer of gratitude when she came racing, as my dad would say, like she had turpentine under her tail.  She beat me back to the door, and the look I got.  She stuck to me like a limpet the rest of the day.

The evening sky might look like it was on fire, but it was a cold flame.  Before putting the kids to bed, I needed to take the trash down to the road.  Bessie usually gets excited when I gather the bags.  Next to a trip to the cookie store, taking the trash away is her favorite outing.  Yesterday, she came when I opened the door, stuck her nose out, and said, "Thanks, Mom.  It's too cold out there and I think I'll pass."  I tried to tell her about the heater in the truck, but she wasn't having any of that.

I'm hoping for a bit of a thaw today.

Magical

Twenty-one years later (how time flies) and this place can still take my breath away.  After the rain and heavy cloud cover had cleared, the moon shone last night like a glowing pearl, so bright it dimmed the stars.  If you want to see stars, wait until the dark of the moon when the stars sparkle and shimmer like diamonds.  I've posted more photos of sunrise and sunset than is reasonable.  I can't help myself.

It's not just the sky that gets to me.  Give me a glimpse of an antlered stag or a doe with her fawn and I'm struck dumb.  Even a predator fascinates me, although I'll yell and stomp to send them on their way.  The ever-changing bird life is a better indicator of the seasons than the calendar.  The trees, omigosh the trees.  Who knew there were so many shades of green.  The maintenance crew of turkey vultures left behind during the winter migration is evidently a group of immature birds.  Their heads are dark and won't turn red until they grow up.  I'm kind of glad they aren't the true black vultures, who aren't patient enough to wait for road kill but will go out and do their own dirty work.  There was almost a collision yesterday with a small group of turkeys who wanted to cross the driveway as I was going past.  They really wanted to go first, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor and waited.

It's not just the wildlife, the domestic critters provide their own entertainment.  Even the dud chickens tickle me.  Stanley would very much like to intimidate, but he just doesn't have the moxie.  The best he can do is a halfhearted sneak attack from the rear, but doesn't try to quiet his footsteps.and if I turn around, he pretends he was just going for a tasty snack in my direction.  Um-hmm.  As frustrating as the goats can be, I've never fallen out of love with them since Lucy and Ruth arrived in 1998.  Missy might not qualify as domesticated, but seeing her little face of a morning and hearing her purr of thanks delights me.  She earns her keep.  There is a squirrel tail on my front step right now that she brought up and left for me.  Lucky me.

I don't need a wizard's wand to make magic...this place makes its own magic every day.

Deck The Halls

Give me an hour and I'll take a day...another day in which to do nothing.  I'm really good at that.  It's not that I have holiday depression, it's more like a case of holiday blahs.  That, and the fact that with the extended deadline, I haven't hit the panic button yet.  That seems to be my best incentive.  Deck the halls?  Heck, I haven't even put an ornament on the tree.  Once upon a time this house dripped Christmas.  Two huge trees upstairs and down, one formal, one fun, smaller tabletop trees in every other room, garlands on the banister, wreaths in every window, stockings hung, even the bathroom was decorated, and there were twinky lights all around the deck and eaves.  Santa would have had no problem finding this house.  It's not that I've gone bah-humbug, it's more like it's a lot easier to remember how is was than do the work to do it again.  It's unfortunate that you can't see what I see.

When the rain came in the afternoon, Nature didn't use the garden hose, she went straight for the fire hose and turned it on full blast.  Wicked woman.  There was a brief break and I made a dash out to put all the critters to bed.  She waited until I was down in the pen before opening the faucets again and I got a thorough soaking.  The girls were pushing and shoving to get into their rooms.  The chickens were sensible enough to stay under cover in their coop and all I had to do was shut their doors.  By the time I got back to the house, my shoes were squelching and my britches were wet to the thigh.  Ho ho ho.

Over an inch of rain had been predicted and I'll bet we beat that.  It was a deluge!  And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over sometime well after dark.  The sky appears to be clear this morning...at least I can see stars.  Maybe tonight will come upon a midnight clear.

Pedal To The Metal

Okay, football Sunday is out of the way and our Christmas is approaching.  It's time to stop all the folderol and lollygagging, put the pedal to the metal, and get serious about prep work.  With the threat of rain looming, I was grateful for the pause button so I could bring up more firewood, stay dry, and not miss the games.  I also used the leaf blower to clear a couple of inches of leaves off the front porch (it's a leaf magnet) and a massive amount off the deck.  There were so many that the battery on the blower went dead (it's rechargeable) before I could finish.  That's just the tip of the chore-list iceberg, but at least something got done.  No, there are no ornaments on the tree as yet, but I'm thinking about it.

Actually, putting the tree up in stages has its advantages.  Ralph has had enough time to inspect each addition, get used to it, and get bored.  He doesn't give it a passing glance now.  Unless food is involved, Celeste doesn't care.  Both cats have had a good time playing hide-and-seek in the empty box.

I will have to go to town this week, but fortunately I can wait until the rest of the world is hopefully done with pre-Christmas madness.  Having our celebration after the fact gives the Kids in the valley a chance to share the holiday with other family and friends, pretty much a win-win situation.

I could see when Bessie went out for her early morning piddle today that we did get some rain during the night.  More is predicted for today, a good excuse to stay inside and get something done.  Stop that!  I can hear you laughing, you know.

According to the calendar, tonight is Christmas Eve.  I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

Progress

Making progress here is like wading through jello, but I am forging ahead slowly.  At least there is some resemblance to a tree now instead of a stick with twigs.  It takes more time, but not too bad for a $5 tree.  Who knows, I might get ambitious and inspired (the two rarely occur together) and put some ornaments up.  To be honest, it will probably depend on how well the Steelers and Vikings are playing today.

The goats were still feisty in the morning, but had cooled off enough to go to bed last evening.  While they come into season once a month, I think we're all glad those spells last only a couple or three days.  They must be exhausted.

I put in a call to Helper Dude to check on his availability.  There's nothing urgent, but I do need his help with a myriad of chores around here.  I'm tired of the place looking so run down.  It's a hard reality that I can no longer do a lot of what I used to do, but there it is.  He likes machinery, and maybe I can sweet talk him into taking John Not-So-Dear out for a spin in the west field.  It is in bad need of mowing, and John and I have a strained relationship.  John has made it very clear that he prefers a man at the wheel.  Dude will be here after the first of the year.  That's progress.

A Beginning

As I've said, guilt is a motivator.  Sometimes it works and sometimes not.  Yesterday it pushed me to get the Christmas tree out of the box and each ferschluggen branch put on the trunk...and this before barn chores!  Unfortunately, I ran out of incentive and time before fluffing out the branches, so there the thing stands in the middle of the room, looking like a Charlie Brown reject.  I'll have to do something about it one of these days, but it sort of amuses me for the time being.  At least it was a beginning.

The girls were still caught in the "heat" of the moment, as it were.  Being left out all night hadn't fazed them, and they were still playing kissy-face, huggy-bear in the morning.  It seems that the older they get, the more intense their emotions.  They were still at it at nightfall so they spent another night outside.  Their choice.

In all the twenty-one years I've lived here, a rising full moon has never failed to take my breath away.  Yesterday was the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year and the beginning of winter.  How's this for a spotlight, perfectly framed in the living room window.  Ralph, on the back of the couch,  was not impressed.

Baby Steps

Just a couple of dinky birds at the feeding station for breakfast yesterday, not a sign of a turkey.  It didn't hurt my feelings, but I did wonder where the big guys had gone.  1) Feed the birds, 2) let the chickens out and put down their feed, 3) tend to the goats:  that's the routine every single morning.  It was when I got to #3 that I saw where the turkeys were.  En masse in the goat pen, there was the pedestrian herd.  This time they didn't bother to fly away.  Feeding this bunch is the reason Bess and I had to make a trip to Mt. Aukum later.  They're eating me out of house and home!

Oh good grief, it's that time again for the girls.  One thing about goats, they are not subtle.  Tails going like whirligigs, they had but one thing on their mind in the morning and it didn't get any better.  Sheila and Tessie were so intent on each other that I couldn't get them into the barn last evening.  Maybe the brief rain that came in the night cooled their ardor.  Or not.  They did have shelter.

It was a day for piddly chores:  more wood to the porch, unload bags of birdseed, do a load of laundry...and bring the Christmas tree into the house.  I'm taking baby steps toward Christmas, you see.  By dark, I ran out of steam so there the tree sits.  Maybe I can stick a bow on the picture on the box and call it good.  Or not.

Cat In The Hat

How's this for an overdose of cuteness?  I'm so glad I adopted both of these two.  Each has a separate personality, but they love and seem to need each other.  When I walked back into the bedroom yesterday, it was hard to tell which head went with which body.  Ralph and Celeste usually sleep together like spoons.

Over the span of time, I've had many cats, usually one at a time.  When the Kids were young, there was Smoky, then Tag-Along Toolu.  Sarah then Annie followed later, and then came Victor.  Victor liked being an only child and ruled the house for a long time, but Larry was moving and his new apartment would not accept his cat Patty.  Could she room with me until he found a better place?  Well, what're ya gonna do?  Patty was an indoor-outdoor cat, Victor was strictly indoors.  She and Victor tolerated each other and Patty tolerated me.  She never quit reminding me that she was Larry's cat and was only with me temporarily.  "Temporarily" lasted the rest of her life.  Victor made the move up here and lived a full nineteen years.  It wasn't long before a friend called and asked if I could take one of a couple of stray kittens that showed up at her house.  One...hmmm.  That's how Frank and Pearl came to live here, and the plan was that they would be barn cats.  (Tell God your plans and hear him laugh.)  Watching those two together made me realize there was no substitute for feline togetherness.  Not long after Frank disappeared, Pearl died, I'm guessing of loneliness.  There were several months without a cat in the house, and then Larry sent me a photo of the cat who turned out to be Ralph.  Again, I couldn't break up a brother-sister act and took Celeste, too.

I don't keep a cat in a hat (apologies to Dr. Seuss), but I can't imagine a house without a cat...or two.

Yes, Please

I'll take another helping of a sunny, bright day anytime.  Even though the house was chill, I could still feel my cheeks so Stove had another day of rest.  Following Bess's lead, we went out to sit at the end of the deck.  It seems forever since I've done that, and it was grand.  Soaking in the warmth, listening to birds and the normal sounds of the mountain, watching the remaining fluttering leaves...ahhh.  The goats seemed to be enjoying the day, also.  They lay in in the grass, chewing their cuds and dozing.  As always, I wondered what was going through their minds.

Dozing seemed like a good idea, so I was inside napping when my neighbor Beau stopped by later.  Nothing like a hostess who has to brush the cobwebs of sleep from her mind to have a conversation.

Celeste is relocating one of her piglets (as she does daily), crooning all the way.  She does this at least once, and sometimes twice a day.  I don't know if she's singing lullabies or songs of reassurance, but a move seems to require music.

I didn't get a lot done (so what else is new?), but I'll take another day like it anytime, yes, please.

That's The Way

The rain continued until just before sunrise yesterday and it turned into an absolutely gorgeous day.  The song on my mental jukebox was "That's The Way, Uh-huh Uh-huh, I Like It" (KC and The Sunshine Band, 1975) from back in the disco days.  I'd been thinking about where I could put down feed for the chickens so they wouldn't get soaked and how to deal with goats that wouldn't want to come out at all.  Not to worry, by chore time it was sunny, bright, and dry.  That's one thing about our decomposed granite soil, rain filters through dirt like water through coffee grounds.

As for the chickens, when Craig installed the two-door system on the coop, I'd left the temporary single panel that Clay had cut leaning between the coop and the fence.  It gives shade, and would provide a relatively dry place for Stanley and the little girls in wet weather.  The goats couldn't wait to get outside into the sunshine (and I shut the play yard gate!).

Ralph and Celeste spent the day moving from one sunny spot to another for the warmth, and Bessie Anne went outside any number of times to lie on the deck.  Rain had filled the birdbath and big and little birds were fluttering and having fun.  Evidently they prefer a bath to a shower.  The Steller's jays are back, flashing their brilliant blue and yelling.  I wonder where they go in the summer.

Rain is so much easier to deal with when it comes and goes in the night.  That's the way I like it.

Back To Back

It's a given that on any/every Sunday morning you will find me watching two back-to-back bipartisan political news programs.  I can't abide the ranters and ravers on either side, but prefer a more realistic approach to the weekly news in politics from across the country.

That done, I start checking the guide to see what football teams will be playing and when.  I am more partisan when it comes to football than I am in politics.  Oh joy, the Steelers were playing back-to-back games with the Vikings!  Heaven help me if these two play each other.

The rain held off (again) and there was just enough time to run up to the grocery store for a couple of forgotten items for the Christmas menu before the first game.  Priorities, ya know.  I succumbed to temptation and picked up sesame crackers and a container of blue cheese.  I have a penchant for stinky, strong-flavored cheese, and blue cheese or gorgonzola are a semi-satisfactory substitute for Limburger, which is my favorite but almost impossible to find anymore.

Snack in hand, I was ready to watch football!  A good fire was going, the living room was warm, and there were two cats on my lap and a dog on my feet.  How could it get any better?  Easy...both the Steelers and the Vikings won their games!  Color me happy.

The last game was over just in time to put the critters to bed at sundown and the day had stayed dry.  The promised rain blew in after dark, and I do mean blew.  The wind stopped and it's still raining this morning.  That's okay, we need it.

It was a very good day.

In Cahoots

I think it is possible that the weather forecasters have colluded with Nature in a plot to get me off my duff and getting things done.  They keep dangling the threat of rain, moving its arrival back a day, and then another day.  Aarrgh.  There is a portion of the woodpile that is not under tarp.  Wet wood doesn't burn, it smokes.  Smoke makes creosote in the chimney, and that is to be avoided.  Day after day I've brought wagons of firewood to the porch to keep it dry.  The rack is nearly up to the top now, and I've got the sore muscles to show for it.  And no rain.

If it stays dry today, I've promised myself to bring in the Christmas tree and some decorations.  I'm starting to feel like Scrooge or the Grinch, and guilt is a great motivator.  Television is playing a big part in this as all the traditional Christmas movies are playing...over and over and over.  Even the cooking shows are showcasing holiday menus.  It's a plot, I tell you.

The goats are getting confused and probably are losing confidence in me.  They used to know that if I left the play yard open in the morning, they could expect rain sometime during the day.  Listening to the forecasters and wanting to do good by the girls, I keep leaving the gate open for them.  And no rain.

Part of my lack of enthusiasm, I know, is because, due to one health issue or another in the family, I can't do all the holiday baking that I used to.  Nothing like day after day of the aroma of cookies, cakes, and breads in the house to get into the spirit.

Oh well.  Like it or not and regardless of the reasons, I'm getting things done.  And that's a good thing.

Keep 'Em Coming

It was a busy day, starting as always with the livestock.  Missy met me as soon as I entered the barn.  I get such a kick out of that little girl.  She leads me to her bowl, "Put the food in here, lady, right here."  Busily stuffing her face, she purrs loudly, but turns her head to look for my petting hand.  I don't know if she's indicating that I'm allowed to pet her now, or is showing gratitude.  Either way, I'm good with that.

Tessie and Sheila were anxious to get out into the sunshine.  Yes, we had sunshine in spite of the strong winds that had begun in the night and continued to blow.  Sheila had veered off the path while walking up to the gate, but remembered just in time and came running after me for her morning head rub.  It's a ritual now.

Arden was coming over so some housework was in order.  There was feed to haul out of the truck, and firewood to be brought to the porch.  I'd lit Stove early in the morning in an attempt to get the house warm for my guest.  I'm used to the chill, Arden is not.  By afternoon, I didn't even need a jacket.  As I've said, though, heat does not turn corners.  When my friend arrived, we went into the kitchen, the gathering place in my house.  It wasn't long before Arden asked to borrow a sweater.  Oh well, Stove tried.

Arden had just gotten settled when Beau drove up unexpectedly.  It's been quite awhile since he's dropped by.  He stayed for a bit and we three had a lively discussion.

Beau left and soon Bess and I walked Arden to her car.  We couldn't help but comment on the sunset.  It would be difficult to pick a favorite shot, they just keep coming.  I put all the kids to bed and called it a day, a good day, for sure.

Camping In

Back in the day, I was a stay-at-home mom while the Kids were young.  There were no such things as day-care centers and the cost of a babysitter for four little ones would have taken my entire salary; wages weren't much in those days.  Most of our vacations were camping trips, again because of finances.  I'll have to admit that I took full advantage of the word "vacation," not because I didn't love being with "The Group," as the Kids were known to one and all, but it was nice once a year to have time to myself.  How did I accomplish that?  I would plan at least one meal a day that would take time to cook on a two-burner camp stove, which would excuse me from joining in other activities.  The Kids' dad would take The Group on a lengthy hike and I would sit and enjoy the quiet, stirring the pot now and then.

I was thinking back to those times yesterday when I made Chunky Corn Chowder, a vacation staple.  It's such a simple soup:  potatoes, onions, creamed and whole kernel corn, evaporated milk, and Spam cut into bite-size pieces and fried crispy.  All easily transported ingredients, and a welcome meal for hungry, tired campers.

I live in the middle of a forest, I could pretend the Kids were out hiking, and that soup for dinner was just like camping in.

It was a good day.

Bright Spot

Take my advice.  If you have to drive into P'ville from Fair Play, go by one o'clock and come back by three if you want to miss the traffic, traffic being a relative term.  I came from southern California and the valley and well remember being stuck in bumper-to-bumper capital-T Traffic, but five cars going in the same direction up here is little-t traffic as far as I'm concerned now.  I hit that sweet spot between the lunch crowd and the after-work people, and it was lovely to have the roads (almost) to myself on the way to visit the vampire.

I've always had lab work done at the hospital, so it was a surprise when the nice lady told me I should have gone to "The Lab" in town.  Well, I would have had someone told me.  "Oh, well.  As long as you're here."  Then she couldn't find the doctor's order on the computer.  Crum.  The gal who was so insistent on having the work done by today had not sent it in.  Did I say I had a problem with communication in that office?  After a lengthy phone call, it all got straightened out and I was sent upstairs.

Those who work in the laboratory must feel like the Forgotten People, stuck away in the farthest reaches of the building.  Even the elevator is well hidden down long corridors and around many corners.  I hadn't been given a road map and was wending my way when a doctor passed and asked, "Are you lost?"  "No, I always look this way."  Upstairs wasn't any better, but I really felt I should have left a trail of breadcrumbs so I could get back out again.  Finally at my destination, there was a short wait for the phlebotomist (Vampira) to call me in.  "Can you tell me your name and birthdate?"  "Yes."  There was a pause while I enjoyed the look on her face and then told her.  She was very good at her job and had vial after vial filled in no time.

I had a couple of other stops planned so as not to waste a trip to town, but I was so happy to get back to Truck, on his own he headed home as soon as I started the engine.  Well, who was I to say he was wrong?

There are always a few bright spots.  I was home again, and then received a call from Larry...always a joy.  Sunset was undeniably a bright spot.  And the day was done.

Again?

Having "just" been to town, true to form, yesterday was a day off.  For the past couple of weeks I've been negotiating a change of oncologists because of lack of communication.  There has been no followup for a year.  Yesterday a nice lady called and told me I'd been assigned to a new doctor, and I thanked her.  Then she called back...she'd checked my chart and saw that I needed to have blood work done and it had to be done either yesterday or today or I'd have to start all over again.  Why?!  Do lab reports have a warranty or expiration dates?  Start all over with what?  Yesterday was out, so I must go to town again today.  I thought I'd dodged that bullet.  Sigh.

There is an oak tree in my direct line of sight when I'm sitting in the living room.  It's my up-close indicator of the changing seasons.  All the leaves at present have changed color, and more are dropping daily.  There is one leaf, however, that really doesn't want to go.  With the slightest breeze, this determined leaf twirls and spins, but hangs on for dear life.  She's an inspiration to not give in or give up.  Inevitably, one of these days she'll be gone, but for the time being I'll just enjoy her dance.

Celeste walked by while I was doing my daily weigh-in yesterday and I picked her up out of curiosity.  Celeste is not a "fat cat," but she weighs a little over fifteen pounds!  Because at times I've lifted her up to the counter I knew she was a chunk, but fifteen pounds?!  That's one solid cat.  I wanted to know what Ralph weighs, but he wasn't available.

Well, like it or not, I'm off to visit the vampire today.  Goody.

Trickster

Dark grey sky, dampness in the air...of course I left the play yard open for the girls yesterday morning.  Two more loads of wood to the house.  A quick hit-and-run trip with Bess to the feed store (closer than Holiday) for cat supplies.  And it never rained.  I could hear Nature chortling as she said, "Gotcha!"

Oh well, those things needed doing anyway.  I might have chosen a slower pace, however.

Why so much wood, you ask.  Depending on when I light the fire, Stove can eat up close to half a wagon's worth in a day.  A lot has to do with the kind of wood he's fed.  I have cedar, which burns hot and fast and leaves fewer ashes, and oak, which is harder to start, burns slow and steady, and leaves a lot of ash.  I don't burn pine because it creates more creosote in the chimney.  Sometimes when burning oak, I have to empty the ash tray during the day to keep a good air supply.  I have a welder's glove for that job.  Those ashes and the tray are hot!  There is a small metal trash bucket with a lid on the porch to put the ashes in to cool.  Every year there are warnings and every year somebody starts a house fire because they put their hot ashes in a plastic garbage can.  Common sense is not so common.

The cats are very happy with fresh litter.  They don't know how close they came to being put on a diet.

Now the forecasters are saying it won't rain until next week.  I won't take that as gospel because one never knows what tricks Nature has up her sleeve.

Racing The Rain

Need overcame reluctance and I went to town yesterday.  The morning had been sunny and bright, but with rain predicted, another wagon of wood on the porch seemed prudent.  I wanted to do the shopping as quickly as possible because I had bags of chicken feed and birdseed in the back of the truck   There hadn't been time to unload when Bess and I got back from Mt. Aukum earlier.  It was a two-trip day.  Bess gets two outings:  to the feed store or to the vet.  One she likes, the other not s'much.  I won't take her to town because other than for the ten minutes at Mt. Aukum where I can keep an eye on her, I won't leave her in the truck

Once on the road, the skies darkened and threatened rain.  Oh good grief.  Soggy feed was something I didn't need.  Okay, how to pare down my lists...maybe the little grocery store right by my other two stops would have the few things I needed and I wouldn't have to go to Wally World at the far end of town.  I was in luck!  It wasn't til I was headed home, trying to beat the rain, that I realized one reason to go to WW was to get cat food and litter.  Oh crum.  The rain held off.

Once home, the priority was to bring a couple more loads of firewood to the house.  One never knows, and it was getting colder.

Nature had been playing games again, because by sundown she broke up the clouds and gave us this spectacular sunset.

I certainly can't ask the cats to "hold it," so a trip up to Holiday is on my dance card today.  Nature will probably let go of the rain when I'm on the road again.  She does that.

That's Okay

I almost exclusively wear white work socks (aka athletic socks).  They go so well with my extensive wardrobe of four sets of bibbies.  I buy them in large packages.  Usually I buy the brand that has grey toes and heels, but evidently Wally World was out one time or perhaps I was feeling adventurous because along with the others I have a set of six with pink, aqua, or purple accents.  Since I wear the same thing day after day, I don't have to waste time picking out my outfits, and half the time it's barely light when I get dressed anyhow.  Living alone, I don't sort socks after laundering, but keep them in a large basket, aligned by tops and toes.  The elastic on old socks wears out first and that's usually my criterion for picking out two for the day.  The other evening when I kicked off my shoes, I was surprised to see that I was wearing one pink toe and one aqua toe.  That's okay, I have another pair just like them.

If practice makes perfect, I am close to the heights in the art of procrastination.  I really should have gone to town yesterday, but dawdled around while thinking up one excuse and another why I couldn't go just then (Ralph was on my lap, the dishwasher needed emptying, I could eke out dwindling supplies, etc., etc., etc.).  Important stuff like that.  Enough excuses and time runs out and I can't leave and get back before sundown.  Whew!  That's okay, I'll go today.  Or not.

Poor Timing

It was a case of poor timing on all our parts yesterday from start to finish.  Missy was at the feeding station in the morning, hoping for a feathered snack.  Her problem was that I had not yet put out birdseed and deer had come in the night to clean up the leftovers, so no birds for Missy.  (Yay.)

I obviously waited too long to light a fire as far as Celeste was concerned.  She couldn't have curled up any tighter if she tried.  Even her little nose is covered.

Camille called in the morning to tell me what was on the lunch menu at the Senior Center.  Chicken cordon bleu sounded pretty darned good and I told her I'd try to make it.  Of course I fell asleep and missed my chance.

Ralph has the worst timing on a daily basis.  He knows that morning treats are passed out just before I head out for chores.  If Ralph is late or doesn't show up, period, he loses out completely.  I can't leave a little pile of tidbits for him because Celeste would say, "Oh, goody, more for me."

My lap is a cat magnet for Celeste.  She rarely misses an opportunity.  Ralph is off running amok.  I have a mental checklist and will think, "Okay, I will wait until the next commercial or whatever and then get up and do such-and-such.  Ralph will pop up just before my self-imposed deadline and want to settle in.  A lot of house chores don't get done because I can't bring myself to shove him off.  Besides, he needs to floss his teeth daily.

I'll have to try harder to stay on schedule today.  Or not.

The Darndest Thing

Ralph takes dental care very seriously.  There are mini-blinds in many of the windows, and ever since he came here he has used the pull cords as dental floss.  I was worried at first that he would chew through them, but no, he just runs them through his teeth.  With the onset of cold weather, I dug out a heavy, hooded, sweatshirt jacket.  The hoodie has the added benefit of keeping rain drips from the barn roofs from going down my neck.  Ralph likes it because the "floss" has a different flavor.

As I was going down to the barn the other day, I noted a large number of big birds in the pen and up in the dead tree.  Unless they're getting a drink of water from the trough, vultures aren't usually pedestrians.  These were turkeys and by count there were over fifty!  It was the darndest thing because of so many turkeys in the tree.  Just as vultures don't walk around, turkeys only fly when alarmed.  I guess I was alarming because the entire flock took off at once when I entered the pen.  Unlike the whump-whump of vulture wings, turkeys kind of clatter when they fly.

Grass in the goat pen is up an inch now.  If we get another sunny day like yesterday, I think I'll be able to get John Not-So-Dear out and put him to work on the star thistle in the west field.  One can hope.

Two

What is better on a chilly day than one cat on your lap?  Why, two of course.  Get a dog to lay her head on your feet and you're set.  We were all in our places to watch the funeral for the 41st President.  The respect, caring and humor shown by the eulogists was very touching.  Having seen a number of state funerals, which are sad in themselves, I am always struck by the servicemen who carry the casket from here to there.  It obviously is a great honor to serve, but everything military is done in slow motion and their burden must be so very heavy.  Throw in all those stairs up and down at the capitol and the cathedral, whew!  Those guys must have muscles of iron.

Later, stepping out on the deck I saw a large cat sitting by the feeding station.  Looking closer, it wasn't a house cat.  I yelled and clapped my hands and a second cat joined the first and they ran down into the woods.  One bobcat is not good, two are worse.  I was so very glad the chickens were in a secure pen.

Ralph has developed his own morning routine.  It involves sitting on my lap while I'm at the computer, and he won't take no for an answer.  The things I do for these critters.

It's Final

Wow!  It's never happened before that the family reached a consensus in just one day about when to have Christmas, but it happened yesterday, for real.  Our jingle bells will ring on December 29, which gives me another week to procrastinate.  I've given a thought or two to putting the Christmas tree together, but haven't followed through yet.  It could happen.

The property directly across the road has been for sale for some time now.  In the last week someone has been taking advantage of the wet ground to clear and burn some of the underbrush.  I worried when I first heard a chainsaw that another of my trees had gone down, but realized it was farther away.  A guy was working there yesterday, so when Bess and I were taking the trash down I pulled across the road to say hi.  It turned not to be a new owner, but a fellow hired to clean up the property so the realtor could show it.  There might be some flat ground over the crest, but it's pretty much a steep hill on this side.  Grant is a retired firefighter, hence the care in lighting a burn pile.  He took the job because retirement can be boring for an active guy.  I told him that if he got bored again, I could use some help with my woods and he said he'd come take a look one day.  Nice guy.

Rain held off and the heavy cloud cover actually made the day warmer, warm being a relative term.  Stove didn't have to work so hard and I could conserve firewood.

Deb and Craig are back from Hawaii and it was so good to talk with her again.  They got to do all of the touristy things like going to a luau and touring the U.S.S. Missouri (the Arizona was temporarily closed).  They also had several meetings with Larry and his girlfriend and meet a number of Larry's friends.  He threw them a lavish barbecue on the beach.  It must have been hard to leave the beautiful Hawaiian weather and come back to cold and grey skies.

Sheila and Tess are almost back to normal.  At least Sheila wanted to have her head rubbed again.  That's her new thing when we're walking up to the gate in the morning.  She won't let me close it until she gets her ears scratched.  She's been too distracted lately.

In The Moment

Those silly girls were still in the heat of the moment (that's a joke) even after having been left out in the cold all night.  There was no interest in breakfast or alfalfa while they talked sweet talk and nuzzled necks.  Made me feel like a voyeur.  I didn't stay long.  They had turned the burners down by bedtime and each went to her room.  Whew.

It was definitely a hot cocoa day and Stove worked overtime.  I heated the beanbag and Celeste discovered the joy of sitting on that on my lap.  "Where has this been all my life, Mom?!"  Ralph tried to crowd in, but she wasn't about to give up her spot.  Warm at last, I took a well-earned nap, waking in time to watch the proceedings for President G. H. W. Bush in Washington, D.C..  It was a solemn, dignified moment in what has become a contentious government.

The cloud cover came back in the afternoon.  With another couple of days of rain predicted, Bessie and I took advantage while we could to bring three wagons of wood to the porch.  I'm usually good for only two, but not knowing when I'd get another dry day, it seemed prudent to stock up more.  If it stays as cold as it has been, I'll need it.

Evidently my outburst of the night before had some effect on the cats.  They both slept on the same side last night and I had the luxury of being able to stretch and turn at will.  I didn't wake up until nearly six today.

Wish Granted

I asked for, and received, a full day of beautiful, bright sunshine.  There was one small hitch.  It stayed so cold that the thin layer of snow-turned-to-ice was still on the ground at 2 in the afternoon.  It made the walk down to the barn pretty treacherous in the morning.

Sheila made it clear why she'd been so rebellious the night before.  I'd missed the signs that she and Tessie were in heat again.  Tess was frantic to get outside with Sheila.  The pheromones were so strong I was surprised I couldn't see them.  They were still going at it at bedtime and neither one would go to their room.  I know what you want, girls, but that is one wish that will not be granted.

You know how it is when you get a hankering for something?  My craving for egg foo yung got so strong that I went to the store for mung bean sprouts for dinner last night.  Sometimes you have to make your own wish come true.  Yum!

The cats, those immovable objects, drove me to distraction last night.  All I wanted was to turn over.  "Nope, not gonna happen."  Do you know how silly it feels to be yelling in the middle of the night, feet flailing like a two-year-old in a temper tantrum, at a couple of animals who couldn't care less?  I was the one who capitulated.  Wide awake, I got up at 3:30 this morning.

It's going to be a long day.

Playing Games

Nature is playing a game.  The layout was basically the same yesterday, and then she tweaked the rules.  Rain and wind, yes, but it rained harder and the wind was stronger and lasted longer.  Sunshine in the afternoon, yes, but briefly.  Rain again at night, but guess what I found on the deck this morning.  If you said a dusting of snow, you're a winner.

Normally, I wait until after barn chores to light a fire on chilly days, but it was so cold yesterday morning that it was first on the list.  Now, I realize I'm talking California cold, not New England cold, but it never got into the 40s and this morning we're in the 20s.  To this born-and-bred Californian, that's cold.  Stove struggled valiantly to heat the house, but wasn't as effective as one could hope.  The wood rack supply was dwindling and I was getting worried, waiting for the rain to stop so I could replenish.  Finally!  Bess and I dashed out to bring a couple more wagon loads to the porch so I could keep Stove fed.  Bessie stood on the doorstep, wondering why I was taking so long...she wanted back in the house.  Now!

I had dug ditches down at the barn to let the pools of water drain.  The play yard stayed dry and of course I left the gate open so the girls could shelter during the day.  Sheila is usually the first one in at night, but last evening she got stubborn.  Tessie was more than happy to go to her room, but Sheila was playing a waiting game.  I coaxed, I threatened, I waited.  I waited until I couldn't wait any longer.  "Okay, girlie, you aren't going to like it, but you leave me no choice."  I left the play yard gate open for her, said goodnight, and went to put the chickens to bed.  Unfortunately, one of the Delaware hens had died, whether of age or the cold, or a combination, I don't know.  Stanley's harem is dwindling.

Ralph is sitting on my lap, warming his toes, making typing difficult and Celeste is wandering the hall, crooning to a piglet.  She found the pink piglet I'd been saving for her and it's her new favorite.  Bessie Anne is asleep on the bed, snoring softly.  All's right in my world.  (But a full day of sunshine wouldn't hurt.)

Ditto Days

If one day seems just like another lately, it's because they are.  Rain and wind at night, drizzle in the morning, and sunshine in the afternoon.  Hey, it works.  The birdbath and water trough are kept full and I don't have to do a thing.  Outdoor chores get done during the dry hours.  I even have the same thing over and over for dinner.  Hmmm.  Getting a little tired of that.

There was one surprise yesterday.  I stepped out onto the covered section of the deck in the morning rain and there was Missy, curled up on the one upholstered chair.  "Well, hello there, little girl.  You know you're not supposed to be up here.  The dog lives here and if she sees you, it isn't going to go well."  Missy gave a big yawn and shut her eyes again.  So much for my good advice.  I saw her finally leave about ll, and Bess didn't.  Unfortunately, she snuck back later unnoticed.  When Bessie goes outside, she has a number of doors to choose from and rarely picks the one from which she left on the return.  (We all need a little adventure in our lives.)  After an outing, I saw Bess going around to the dining room doors, and then I saw a small cat go tearing past with a dog hot on its heels.  Drat!  Bessie Anne loves her cats, but all others are the enemy.  I wasn't worried that Bess would catch and hurt Missy.  My concern was for my old girl.  She certainly doesn't get as much exercise anymore and there was real danger of a muscle strain or a heart attack.  Because she's stone deaf, there was no point in yelling "Stop!"  After a token show of force, Bess came back huffing and puffing, winded and tired.

She spent most of the rest of the day like this.  For Celeste, it was just another day.

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?