Really?!

I mentioned the other day that I'd not been able to find nondairy whipped topping and so had bought whipping cream, or what I thought was whipping cream.  Checking supplies, to my surprise I found what I'd picked up was half and half, decadent on cereal and in coffee, but useless for the Jell-O dish for Easter.  Crum.  Nothing for it but to go to the grocery store...again.  Shopping twice in a week could do a person in.  This time I did find the nondairy stuff (different store) so I won't harm the lactose-intolerant Kid, but realize that now the one who reads labels and eats pretty much au naturel food will probably turn away.  Didn't I say that cooking nowadays is a challenge?

Busy with one thing and another yesterday, I began to feel uncomfortable and hoped I wasn't coming down with something.  Then I began perspiring.  Oh no, bad timing for sure.  Silly me, it seems so long since it's been in the 70s that I'd left my heavy vest on after barn chores and what I was feeling was just plain hot!

In 1957, Jimmie Rodgers came out with a song called "Honeycomb," in which he sang, "...a hank o' hair and a piece o' bone."  Well, that's all that is left of Missy's toy.  I guess you take your fun where you find it.

The blue moon is flooding the early morning darkness with light.  It's so warm (relatively speaking) that a robe isn't necessary.  It's going to be a good day.

Blue Moon

"Blue Moon," was written in 1934 by Rodgers and Hart, resurfaced in 1949, Elvis Presley recorded the ballad in 1954, and the Marcels turned it into doo-wop in 1961. In other words, it's been around a long time.

That song was playing in my head last evening as I finished putting the girls to bed because the moon rising is, in fact, a "blue moon," the second full moon in a calendar month.  This moon is just a fingernail breadth shy of being truly full.  That won't happen until tomorrow, the 31st, and a blue moon won't occur again until 2020.  "Once in a blue moon" refers to a rare occurrence, like me dusting.

Trudging on with housework, I took a break to go into the Black Hole again to find more beads and patterns for Deb.  What started as a trial project has turned into an obsession for her.  That apple didn't fall far from the tree.  I think I've pulled out all of the beading supplies, now I need to find someone for all the boxes of yarn and chests of material.  Then I can start on the closet in the spare bedroom where I put other craft supplies.  They say that admission is the start of recovery.  Okay, I'm an addict.  (I'm not ready to give up my paints and brushes.)

It was a good day.

Switcheroo

Nature has had a sudden change of heart.  There is still firewood at Stove's side, ready for action because it's been so cold, and yesterday it was so warm I had the living room door open all day.  How pleasant it was not to have to gear up like Nanook of the North to go to the barn.  The girls spent the day grazing or lazing in their sunny pen.  They'd best get to work; the grass is already ankle high.

Missy has either won over the girls or they've just become used to her constant presence.  They no longer snort and stamp, and that's a good thing because she is totally comfortable around them and me.  Instead of staying in her room, she now follows me in the hallway as I tend to one or the other of the goats, and walks or sits on top of the stall gates.  Missy has a very tiny meow, but a very loud purr when I put down her food; much louder than Ralph or Celeste.  She is going to have a veritable feast soon because the ground squirrels are coming out to play after a winter under ground..

Most of yesterday was spent in household drudgery.  Aarrgh.  I would much rather have preferred to be out in the sunshine, tootling around on John Dear.  Company coming is the spur that gets my housework horse going.  Bess and I made a hit-and-run trip late in the day for birdseed (and two cookies).  I'd forgotten until the last minute that the barrel was empty.

A golden sunset was my reward for sticking to the job(s) at hand.

It's A Challenge

I went shopping yesterday for a few things for Easter dinner.  It's the easiest of holiday meals, or should be.  As I've mentioned before, my family are hidebound traditionalists and holiday menus never change.  We can be as inventive and experimental as we choose throughout the rest of the year, but not at Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc.  One thing I do try to do is work within certain dietary restrictions that have cropped up over time with health issues.  I certainly don't want to be the cause of doing someone in.

A mandatory dish at Easter is Jell-O folded into a cloud of whipped cream.   Easy peasy, right?  Except that one of the Kids is lactose intolerant.  I searched for some nondairy substitute for cream without success.  All I could do was warn the Kid to bring the pills that would forestall discomfort.

It got me to thinking.  Back in the day, no one questioned ingredients in anything.  We ate everything.  The only warning I can remember was to cook pork until done, done, done, because trichinosis was still a possibility then; thankfully, no longer.  The thing is, there were no chemicals in anything.  We shelled peas, baked cakes from scratch, and "fast food" was a freshly prepared sandwich at the drugstore lunch counter.  There was no need to read labels because almost everything canned was in water with maybe a little salt and no other additives.  Now you need a degree in chemistry (and good glasses) to know what you're eating.

I was discussing this with a friend the other day and the subject of bread came up.  I mentioned that one year I had bought a cheap brand of bread to make stuffing for the Thanksgiving turkey because I make a lot of stuffing, six or eight loaves worth.  One slice of this bread was missed and sat out on the counter.  I went to pitch it and noted it hadn't dried out.  As an experiment, I left that slice of bread out for six months!  In all that time, it had not gone stale or moldy.  What the heck had I fed my family?!  The upside is, we'll be well preserved.

Easter is the only time I mix boiled potatoes and peas together, and add a lot of butter.  Why?  Because that's how my mother did it.  One of the Kids has an aversion, not an allergy, to peas, but I can't help that.  The Kid can pick around them.  He's a grownup now and I'm not in charge.

Cooking nowadays is certainly a challenge.

Big Points

I really racked up points for the Mean Mother Of The Year award (another story for another day) yesterday, starting down in the barn.  Missy's squirrel has been moved from here to there.  I don't know if she's finishing up leftovers or, because her mean mom doesn't provide any toys, she uses the hide to toss around like Celeste flips her piglets.  Now I don't know if I'd be taking away her only amusement if I threw the thing away.

I got more points up at the house.  When your mean mom won't light a fire on a cold day, a cat has to find warmth where s/he can.  Ralph and Celeste had to make do with a windowsill and a sunny patch on the floor.

Someone else who got big points, but the good kind, was Clint Bowyer, who broke a long losing streak by winning the race at Martinsville.  It was touch and go as his opponent was closing in when Clint crossed the finish line and I was holding my breath.  "Hold on, kid, hold on!"  Woohoo!  That man was filled with pure joy (and I was pretty happy, too).

My only real accomplishment for the day was paying bills and that wasn't to get points, but rather the avoidance of penalties.

I did light a fire at sundown and can only hope for the cats' forgiveness.  I'm pretty sure they're keeping score.

False Alarm

Not only was the weatherman wrong about the snow, we didn't even get any rain yesterday.  The sun came up bright and shiny and, with the exception of a couple of short-lived cloud covers, the sky stayed blue all day.  Go figure.

That wasn't the case in Virginia, however, and the NASCAR race at Martinsville was postponed until today.  It's hard enough to keep track of what day it is without that kind of monkey wrench getting thrown at me.

I did connect with the Kids and we're on for Easter!  Family gatherings are not quite the same without Clay and Larry, but events to look forward to just the same.  Cam will probably join us, Craig's parents have been invited, and Dave may bring Jester.  I can always throw another potato in the pot.

Sunshine did not mean warm, and I was grateful for the extra wood on the porch.  Stove was well fed all day.  It was such a pleasure to look out the kitchen window and not see that huge brush pile anymore.  I sent Beau and his crew a text to say thank you again.

Company coming means another trip to town, but I'm ahead in the dusting game.  Ta da!

It's All About Timing

While Missy hasn't (or wouldn't) go after the big rat, her killer instincts are still intact.  Yesterday there were the remains of a ground squirrel in her room.  She had to have good timing to catch one of those speedy boogers.  To the victor go the spoils, so I didn't remove it just then.

Rain and hail off and on all day and the temperature dropped like a rock, a good twenty-plus degrees below the day before.  Beau and his band of munchkins couldn't have chosen a better time to split those cedar rounds and I had a good supply of wood on the porch.   Since Helper Dude had cleared Stove's throat, I luxuriated in a warm house all day.  It was, after all, my "day off."

Had I not happened to flip the page on the calendar for a quick look-see, I would have missed the fact that Easter this year falls on April 1 (no April Fool joke), just one week away.  Yikes!  Needless to say, I'm not prepared.  I was able to contact Pete, who, weather permitting, will come up.  I left messages for Deb, Craig and Dave, and got a text back from Clay, who has to work, dang it.  It's pretty safe to say that Larry will not fly back for a ham dinner.  When I find out how many might be here, I'll go shopping, but not today as snow is in the forecast.  However, sunny days with temps up in the low 70s are predicted for the next week.  John Dear is finally going to come out of winter retirement when everything dries out.  It's about time!

Busy, Busy

It might have been a mistake to start feeding Missy.  She may have lost the incentive to hunt, or perhaps she's just smart.  I was down in the barn early yesterday and when I opened the grain bucket to set out breakfast for the first girl, a humongous rat jumped out, the first I've seen since Missy moved in.  This rat was easily half the size of the cat.  Were I her, I wouldn't want to tackle a monster like that, either.  I can do without a jump start like that.  I can also do without rats of any size, thank you very much.

Helper Dude was right on time and the first order of business was the chimney.  When he was done, he said it hadn't been too bad, but when I cleaned out the creosote later, there was a full ashcan of that dirty black stuff.  No wonder poor Stove had been choking.  Next, Dude trimmed Bessie Anne's nails, a long-overdue pedicure.  She's not happy to have this done, but she's been slipping on hard surfaces and better a momentary discomfort than a dislocated hip.

Shortly after HD left, Beau stopped by to say he'd come back in the afternoon to light and tend the burn pile.  Yay!  I was desperate to get this done before the birds started nesting in that mountain of brush.

Stove and the brush weren't the only ones fired up yesterday.  I finally got to work on those boxes of apples that had been sitting in the round room, which, in my house, is like being in cold storage.  I had just taken the first two 9x13" pans of Apple Hill Cake out of the oven when Beau and nine kids (four were his and five were his sister's) showed up on the porch.  They all were willing taste testers and the cake was deemed a success.  Most of the crew set to work on the burn pile while two of the girls stayed to watch me in the kitchen as I set about making more cake batter.  They were fascinated with the old-fashioned apple peeler, corer, slicer, especially when they got to turn the crank.  "My goodness, you have a lot of pig stuff!," and they started to count.  They came up with 188, but that doesn't include those in rooms they couldn't go in nor those out in the front yard.

Not only did Beau and his crew of willing (or not) kids get the burn pile down to ashes, they got out the splitter and chunked up a good portion of the cedar rounds, and stocked up the porch rack for me.  Well worth the price of a few slices of cake.

When they were leaving, it was time to put the girls to bed.  Sometimes the reverse sunset is as lovely as the one in the west.  It's unfortunate that the pines that show up as gold are dead, killed by the infestation of bark beetles last year.  Camille has removed 17 such trees from her properties (these are not hers).

I needed to get back to the house to take the last two cakes out of the oven, four in all, but the sunset demanded equal time.  The cakes will go in the freezer.  I still have a lot of apples left.  Hmmm.

Not long after I finally sat down, Beau called.  "Would it be possible to get another slice of that cake?  The kids and I were telling Katie (his wife) how good it was and she was disappointed she didn't get any."  It's not like I didn't have enough to share, so bagged up the remains of the first one for the family.

When they came by, Beau asked if he could show Katie the downstairs.  I always have to laugh because the first response from anyone who sees that room with the big bar and fireplace for the first time is, "Wow!"  Katie didn't disappoint.

It had been a busy, busy, very productive day.

What A Day!

Another rainy morning, but not cold.  Cam had put a different lid on the birdseed barrel to keep the rats out temporarily because the bobcat rescue lady wasn't going to be available for a couple of days, so the little birds that had gathered (no sign of the turkeys) got a good helping of breakfast.  The girls were cranky and less than cooperative in the barn, nothing new on a wet day.

It was a day I'd been looking forward to for some time.  My friend Kit was flying up to visit her aunt, my buddy Tinka, and we were going to meet for lunch.  Because of the weather, we'd changed the plan to go into P'ville and decided to stick closer to home and go down to Plymouth.  The morning news had shown several mudslides in the area, and why take a chance?  The rain had slowed to a drizzle when we met and it was an easy drive to the restaurant.  I could get used to this being a passenger business.  I get to watch the scenery and not the road.  Every stream we passed was a raging torrent and every pond was filled to capacity.  While we were enjoying each other's company and a hearty lunch, the skies opened up and rain thundered down, to the point that the electricity went out briefly.  It was the storm's last hurrah, because it was over by the time we left the restaurant.  That was a good thing because, naturally, the ladies had left their umbrellas in the car.  We got to spend more time together because Tinka's cat had had surgery and was ready to come home, so we went down to Sutter Creek.  I hadn't been there in years; it used to be a favorite spot for antique shopping.  Poor Frank was wearing the cone of shame and he loudly voiced his displeasure all the way back.  That wasn't the only way he let us know how unhappy he was, but we could open the windows for that.  It was a grand Ladies Day outing, full of laughter, chatter, and good food.

In the afternoon I received a call from a beloved cousin.  Our weather had made the news up north and she called to make sure we hadn't washed away.  She is another friend with a big heart and an easy laugh, the best kind.

By sundown, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  It was hard to believe how stormy the day had been.  I'd had a hard time getting a fire going all day.  No rain is predicted today and that's a good thing.  Helper Dude is coming to clean the chimney this morning.  The next storm is due tomorrow, this one coming down from Alaska, possibly bringing snow, and Stove needs to be on his best behavior.  If my luck holds, Beau will come to light the burn pile, too.

Animal House

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a version of the 1978 movie "Animal House," but my script is written with (mostly) real live animals.

Yesterday morning, still half asleep in the semi-dark kitchen, I kicked what I was afraid was a body.  Flipping the switch, I thought, "Now how the heck did that thing get in here?!"  It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing.

It was the head/hat part of a skunk costume Deb and Craig had given Bessie Anne years ago.  That was the year Bess had gotten skunked seven times.  From the look on her face, it's pretty obvious that Bess did not appreciate the gift or the reminder.  I only made her wear it the once and put it away.  Evidently I'd left the cupboard door ajar and I'm assuming it was Ralph had pulled this new toy out.  I put it back.

For the first time ever, I did not put out food for the birds yesterday.  (It was raining and no birds were waiting, anyhow.)  When I took the lid off the barrel, there were eight rats at the bottom; two adults and six ratletts.  No way was I going to reach my hand in among those jumping, racing critters to get the birdseed.  I could imagine them running up my arm.  I'm just not that brave.  I tended the goats and then called Camille, the SOS lady.  She came up later and took the bountiful breakfast to the bobcat rescue person.  When she brought the barrel back, she said that one of the adults had given birth to seven infants that were hidden in the grain.  That was a total of fifteen rodents gone in just one day.  Yay!  (I put out a late lunch for the birds.)

I watch a lot of PBS Nature documentaries, and particularly like the "Spy In The Wild" programs.  Ralph was enjoying this episode with penguins last night and moved in for a closer look.

There was another floater in the bathroom this morning.  Oh joy.

I could never say I lead a dull life.

Bits And Pieces

Missy was feeling her oats yesterday and instead of staying in her room for breakfast, followed me into the hall when I let Inga out.  I wasn't sure how that would go over.  Inga came out, saw Missy, made one halfhearted lunge at the cat and went on out and around to the feeding room.  Whew.  I guess the girls have gotten used to the little cat's presence in the barn.

There was light rain off and on all day and I was able to bring more firewood up to the porch between showers.  It wasn't nearly as cold as it had been (they're calling this one a Pineapple Express, coming from Hawaii instead of Alaska), but the dampness put a chill in the house.  Stove was happy to get a good meal.

Later in the day, Camille called.  My good neighbor was shopping at Costco, and did I need anything?  Yes, please!  When I was in town, I'd forgotten cat litter.  Aarrgh.  That's as bad as running out of toilet paper.  I was considering going up to Holiday, but was procrastinating.  "What kind do you want?"  The brand didn't matter to me, but asked for the large size.  I'd forgotten where Cam was calling from.  She came up later with a fifty-pound bag!  I managed to get it from her truck to the porch and there it will sit.  I'll scoop from the bag until it's light enough to bring in the house.

I made my version of colcannon for dinner, frying the leftover potatoes, carrots, and cabbage together and chopping them fine, almost mashed.  Gosh, it was good.  (I'd already eaten the corned beef in sandwiches.)

It waited until after the goats were in for the night to start raining in earnest, for which I was grateful.  I gave Stove another helping and called it a good day.

Inevitable

I knew it.  I just knew it would happen one day, and yesterday it did.  Waldo and the other piglets are scattered throughout the house, as are bald hamster and many, many others.  Yesterday morning one of the piglets was floating face up or maybe doing the backstroke in the toilet (who knew pigs could float?).  With pets in the house, the commode is always flushed, so it wasn't as gross as it might have been.  Celeste must have been perfecting her jump shot because later in the day, there was another piglet in the pot.  Well rinsed, they are laid out on the counter to dry.

Where there's one rat, there are bound to be more.  Camille came to take away three ratletts in the morning, and there were two more in the barrel last night.  Cam has business in town today, so I'll probably release them somewhere in the woods away from houses.  It isn't going to solve the problem, but catching them this way at least reduces the resident population.

Yesterday was absolutely beautiful, warm and sunny.  Knowing that at least five days of rain are due, it seemed prudent to make a run to town for supplies.  Bess and the cats were getting low on snacks and it wouldn't do to run out.  They could make my life pretty miserable were that to happen.  The drive was actually pretty nice.  Peach and plum trees are starting to bloom along the road.  I wonder if there are still ice cream parlors that might serve old-fashioned sodas with syrup, ice cream or sherbet, and carbonated water.  My favorite was crushed pineapple at the bottom with strawberry ice cream.  My mother preferred a "Black Cow," which was chocolate syrup and chocolate ice cream.  The fruit trees always remind me of the pink and white froth on sodas back in the day.

Sunset last night was probably the last we'll see for awhile.  Even so, the clouds were closing in.  The rain isn't due until tonight, but we know how capricious Nature is.  I'm hoping it will stay dry so I can get more wood to the house.  It was so warm yesterday that a fire wasn't necessary, but I can hear Stove's stomach rumbling.

Even with a trip to town, it was a good day.

Bottom Of The Barrel

Most of the hail had melted by the time I went out to feed yesterday.  There were still pockets of ice in divots, squirrel holes, and in the shade, but it wasn't like walking on a skating rink.  The first order of the day always is to feed the birds.  The breakfast brigade was already waiting, the males of the tribe puffed up and strutting.  I had a surprise coming.

I've known for some time that critters had moved into the shed.  At first it was ground squirrels, but the last time Go-To Guy had been here he'd plugged the hole in the wall where they'd been getting in.  From all the destruction and the hole chewed in the birdseed lid, I figure the rats had moved from the feed barn to the condo, although I hadn't seen even one...until yesterday.  Removing the lid, I started to reach in for the scoop and there in the bottom of the barrel were two youngsters.  I don't know which of us was more startled.  I didn't have time to deal with them just then as I didn't want a turkey insurrection.  I got the birdseed, reaching cautiously past the panicked ratletts, and fed the birds.  I put the lid back on the barrel and went to do chores.

Crunching through the still-frozen grass to the barn, I fed the girls, noting that I was nearly at the bottom of the barrel for their chow and put that on the To-Do list for the afternoon (it was, after all, NASCAR Sunday).  I haven't seen evidence of moles (those barely subterranean tunnels) for years, but Missy had caught one of those tunneling machines, probably out in the pasture, and brought it into her room.  Evidently moles don't taste good because she'd left it there for a day.  I discussed this with Camille and Harold and we agreed; their cats don't eat moles, either.  Go figure.  I threw the little thing out in the field as an appetizer for the vultures.

Back at the house, I called Cam regarding the trapped ratletts.  She contacted the bobcat rescue lady, then came up and took barrel and all for a drop-off.  Hey, life on a farm isn't always pretty, but at least these little guys joined the circle of life, and I've got to do something about this infestation of destruction.

Later in the day, Two-Cookie Bess and I went down to Mt. Aukum for goat chow to fill the barrel and another salt block.  It was a rather eventful day.

Plans Awry

St. Patrick's Day didn't go exactly as planned, but very much the way I thought it might.  The corned beef was in the crock pot by 4:30 in the morning (one can always hope).  It was a big one and I knew it would need a long time.  Man, it was cold, cold, cold down in the barn and there were a couple of flurries of hail pinging on the metal roof.  The girls prolonged their breakfast, nibbling every last grain and nosing around for more, not because they were so hungry; they were delaying going outside for even that brief time before I opened the big room.

Harold called.  He'd caught some bug or other and was feeling punk.  As much as I enjoy his company, he needed to stay under the blankets and I appreciated him not "sharing."  I waited to see what the weather would do, and then called Pete and rescinded my invitation, to his relief, I'm sure.  As we discussed, not only could the roads be treacherous, St. Patrick's Day is one of the four heaviest drinking days in America.  The parties had started at 6 a.m. in Sacramento.  Slainte!  Cam needed to go into town, weather or no, and wasn't sure she'd make it back at the planned time for dinner.  Some days are like that.

The photo was taken after the second hail storm of the day, just about the time the guys would have been on the road.  That white stuff is all hail, no snow, and it's been so cold that it still hasn't melted this morning.  I was putting the girls to bed just as Camille drove up.  I'd already eaten, but as I said, corned beef makes good leftovers, so I reheated the meat, potatoes, carrots, and cabbage for her.  A hot meal after a day running errands was welcome.

The saying goes, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade."  Me?  I make corned beef.

Off My Duff

It was another one of those mornings that had me wishing I raised hamsters instead of having goats to tend.  Cold?  I hope to shout it was cold, and pouring down rain, to boot.  The girls have the routine down pat by now and dashed around the barn into the big room when they'd finished breakfast.  I hurried back to the house to throw another chunk of wood to Stove.

After a day at the movies, it was time to get something done.  Laundry, dusting (yes, dusting), and general pick up to get ready for company today.  I fear, given the weather, that two thirds of my guests won't be coming.  We haven't yet gotten the predicted snow (yet), but I don't think Pete's low-slung muscle car is built for muddy, slushy roads, and I'm not sure Harold should be out in the cold, either.  I'd rather have them home safe and dry than taking chances.  Cam lives just a half-mile down and, unless it does snow, will probably brave it.  One thing about corned beef, it's every bit as good as leftovers.

Most of the wind had died down by daybreak yesterday, but it continued to rain all day, and there was one spell when hail battered the house.  So far, so good with the trees.  Nature does love to play tricks.  There was a break about sundown and I made it to the barn still dry.  With perfect timing, I was headed back to the house when she turned on the faucet.  "Ha ha, gotcha!"

Stove worked hard all day, and once I got off my duff, I got things done.  I'd say that was a good day.

It's A Pattern

After a couple of days of company, yesterday was a day of R&R.  I caught a break in the rain to get barn chores done, and then got sucked into watching old movies while trying to warm up.  When Arden was here last, I had mentioned "The Painted Veil," and there it was on the Classic Movie channel.  It was the original 1934 version with Greta Garbo, Herbert Marshall, and George Brent.  Perhaps more than a little melodramatic, but still a good story.  The remake in 2006 with Naomi Watts, Edward Norton, and Liev Schreiber is, in my opinion, better (not always the case with a remake) and probably closer to Somerset Maugham's book.

Not a particular fan of Elizabeth Taylor (don't throw rocks at me), I had never seen "BUtterfield 8," the 2006 film for which she won an Oscar.  What the heck, Stove was warming the house, hot cocoa was warming me, and I knew I was going to blow off the day anyhow.  I was surprised to see Eddie Fisher in a bit part.  Laurence Harvey had the male lead.  I will say that the movie wasn't a complete waste of time.

I wasn't so lucky when it came time to put the girls to bed and got soaked.  My barn shoes are ready for retirement, and I squelched up and down the hill.  There is a pair of replacements in the closet.  It poured buckets of rain all night, and wind battered the house.  It's the combination that always has me worried for the trees.  I won't know until daylight if they're all still standing.  Fingers crossed.

Leftover chili, old movies, warm stove:  it was a good day.

Success

The day began with a snap yesterday.  The day before, Cam had brought up a trash barrel with just a little chicken scratch at the bottom to hopefully trap rats in the feed shed.  Orphaned bobcats at the animal sanctuary are getting big and need to catch and kill live rats if they're going to survive when they're released in April, and I certainly have enough "product" for them.  Coming back from the barn, I went in the shed to check.  There were none in the barrel, but, after months of sitting open and useless, the trap I'd set had snapped on a big, pregnant female, still alive.  I picked her up by the tail, put her in the barrel for safekeeping, and called Cam.  She came immediately, bringing Sammi, her rat killer, because the rat was injured.  Sammi was disappointed because in that brief period, the rat had died.  It would still feed the bobcats, and I'm down not just one rat in the shed, but a whole litter of ratletts, too.

It rained off and on all morning, and Clay had a wet trip up the hill.  The chili was ready when he got here, but he'd had lunch in the valley, so we had time to sit and catch up before dinner.  And then the rain turned to snow!  It was Clay's first time to see snow up here, and it was beautiful, big fluffy flakes floating down.  It didn't last long and there wasn't enough to stick, but candy for the eyes, all the same.

Camille called, done with her chores for the day, and I invited her to join us for dinner.  She arrived just as Clay and I were almost done unloading a pickup load of wonderful, already-split oak firewood.  Of course I brought a wagon load to the porch and threw a couple of pieces to Stove right away.  It was like giving him the main course after days of appetizers.

Coming in from the cold (I had to put my hands under running hot water to thaw), we were all ready for bowls of thick, rich, and spicy white chili with chicken, hominy, cannellini beans, broth, and herbs, finished with sour cream.

A snack for the bobcats, a visit from my Kid, firewood piled up, and my friend's company.  That's what I'd call a successful day.

Good Luck

It was a lucky happenstance when Camille called and said she was going to Lockeford Meat & Sausage and did I need anything.  Need, no; want, yes!  Lockeford sausages are known far and wide up here as being the very best.  I'd seen a recipe on TV for Italian sausage and artichoke hearts in wine sauce that I thought sounded good, so asked for a half-pound of meat, and did she want to come for dinner.  It was a cold, really rainy day.  I had a fire going and did as much prep work ahead of time when Cam and Honey came in out of the wet.  Nick Stellino's recipe (he's one of my favorite TV chefs) was easy and quick, and it wasn't long before we sat down to eat a hot and hearty meal.  I think the sauce could have used a little more reduction, but that was my fault.  Since no measurements or times were given, it was guess and by-golly cooking, and good luck that it turned out well.  I'm so glad that Camille is a willing guinea pig and happy to try something new with me.

It rained throughout the night (again).  I hope it lets up today because Clay is bringing a load of firewood.  I'm desperate for the oak he brings as I'm down to only cedar in the woodpile.  Cedar is great for getting a fire going.  It burns hot and fast and doesn't leave much ash, but it doesn't last long for sustained heat.  Stove gobbles it up like candy.

The other Kids would say that Clay is racking up the "Good Son" points, and I'm happy to put a gold star by his name.  His only reward is a hot meal, and I'll be making White Chili for him.  It's a recipe I love and have been hungry for.  This is my lucky week, for sure.  Cam last night, Clay today, and Pete, Camille, and Harold are coming for corned beef and cabbage (no green beer) on Saturday.  I'm in cook's heaven.

Tease

Dust ruffles are such a useful household decor item.  They're not just for hiding dust under the sofa or chair in this house.  In rainy weather (like today), when Bessie Anne comes in with a damp coat, she rubs along the ruffle, first one way and then the other, using it like a self-serve towel.  It was a busy day yesterday.  I needed to go into town while the roads were still dry and stock up on supplies for Clay's visit and St. Patrick's Day on Saturday.  Knowing that we were due for another wet week (thankfully with a break on Wednesday), bring more wood to the porch was on the list.  All that done, there was still time to fit in some reading.

While I was turning pages, I kept hearing little cat sounds.  Celeste was sitting quietly over by the pig- and book-filled chest, so it wasn't her.  Hmmm.  Then I saw the flick of a tail from under the dust ruffle.  Ralph was teasing, trying to get Celeste to join in a game of hide-and-seek, but not doing a very good job of hiding.  He reminded me of when the Kids were little and we'd play.  "Where's [Debbie]?  I can't find her (knowing exactly where she was)."  "Here I am, Mama.  I'm right here!"  Celeste ignored Ralph for a while and then succumbed, pouncing on the ruffle and making him jump.  She'd wait for him to move, then pounce again.  Having gotten his playmate involved, he came out and started a wrestling match.  Celeste outweighs Ralph by more than a couple of pounds and he rarely comes out on top, but the game is more important than winning.

Trip to town over and done, food in the cupboards and fridge, and wood on the porch.  It was a good day.  And I don't have to worry about entertaining the furry kids on a rainy day today.

Back On Track

Turns out my confusion yesterday was caused by my sleepyhead computer.  It doesn't like the time change, either, and was slow making  the conversion.  It was nice to know I'd actually done the right thing at the right time the night before.

The girls had barely rubbed the sleep out of their eyes and Missy was still curled up in her little bed when I arrived at the barn.  If I'd used new time, chores would have cut well into the morning, so I went down an hour early, old/new time.  Whatever.  Aarrgh!

Thank goodness for DVR and the pause button.  I didn't miss any of the race and still got a lovely, much-needed nap.  Bowyer had a pretty good day and came in with the top ten.

Having shot most of the day anyhow, I decided to clean off some of the many programs I'd put on DVR instead of being productive.  What I watched were educational, but disheartening.  An in-depth investigation into Second Amendment radicals and what led up to the bombing in Oklahoma City in 1995 and the prior tragedy at Ruby Ridge had me in tears.  Another documentary about the bombing of Wall Street in 1920, starting with the deportation of many hundreds of innocent immigrants and hatred for the supposed Communist threat had me thinking that, in a way, history is being repeated.  I finished a depressing day with an hours-long look at the war in Vietnam, including interviews with a large number of surviving members of the military, with their photos from their time in country.  Old men now, many could not help crying as they recounted the horrors they had witnessed.  As I said, educational, but disheartening.

On a brighter note, I got a text from Clay, who said he's coming up on Wednesday!  Now that's something to look forward to.

Sundown has slowly been getting later anyhow; with the time change, it was nearly 7 o'clock when I put the girls to bed.  I'd been used to fixing dinner after their bedtime.  As it was, it was really too late for that so I scrambled an egg (thanks, Camille) and called it good.

Missy had been waiting for her bowl, and she behaved beautifully.  How does one train a cat not to bite, you ask?  I've found that petting while they are "good," but removing the hand at the first change in body language works.  They seem to understand that they will lose that which they like and want immediately if they misbehave.  It has worked with cats in the past, but it would never work with Deb and Craig's cat Clyde.  Clyde, as they will admit, has a screw loose.  Cats are funny that way.

New Versus Old

Oh crum.  Once again I'm out of step with the world.  It's not enough that I can't keep track of what day it is, now I don't know what time it is, either.  Going to bed last night (Saturday), I had it firmly fixed in my mind that the time change was on Sunday.  Tomorrow (today) was Sunday, so I moved the bedside clock ahead an hour.  Consequently, I got up at 3:30 this morning (my clock said 4:30).  Ha ha, World!  I've already lost my hour of sleep.  Nanner, nanner!  I'm so confused.  All I know for sure is that it is going to be a lo-o-ong day.

There is a new version of the old me.  I recognized that my hair had gotten out of control, so Candy, my friend and itinerant hairdresser, came yesterday and gave me a different, easy-to-care-for cut.  I think I frustrate her.  "Do you ever use a blow dryer?"  "No.  I think I might have one somewhere."  "Do you use hair products?"  "What?  No."  My style is wash-and-wear, period.  I run a brush through it in the morning and then avoid mirrors for the rest of the day.  Works for me.

For some reason, for the past two weeks all the cooking shows that I so enjoyed on Saturdays have disappeared.  Last week I thought it might have been a temporary aberration, but no.  Where am I going to get inspiration now?  The replacement programs hold no interest for me.  Thank goodness for good old, reliable NASCAR.  I'm already looking forward to the obligatory NASCAR nap this afternoon, whenever after noon is.

The Book Club

I understand a movie will be coming out soon, "The Book Club," with a bevy of leading ladies of a certain age.  I very much want to see it, but, of course, will wait until it comes to television.  The last time I was in a theater was in the summer of 2005 ("March Of The Penguins"), and then only because it had air conditioning.  The much-touted surround sound hurt my ears.  Now, they proudly advertise reclining seats.  What better guarantee I'd fall asleep?

Where was I going with this?  Oh, yes.  (Pardon the train-of-thought derailment.)  I mentioned that Arden had invited me to join her book club.  It isn't necessary, as Arden and I are a club of two.  Despite my protests, she brought me another book yesterday.  It was okay because I'd at least gotten a grip on housework.  We had a lively discussion regarding "Beneath A Scarlet Sky" while munching potstickers and popcorn.  Arden has very eclectic tastes in books, and I've never been disappointed in her recommendations.  I did, however, warn her that I was reading a book of my own now and it would be awhile before I would get to "Doc."  It was an entertaining afternoon.

Even though it had risen to 60(!), I lit a fire before Arden arrived.  I was down to shirtsleeves, but recognized the house might be chilly to another.  It didn't work.  My friend still needed her quilted jacket for comfort.

This up-and-down weather has me dizzy.  Nature is having a heyday, throwing it all at us.  Oh, aarrgh, I just remembered that the time changes tonight.  Ratchafratch.  I am laughing up my sleeve, though.  I didn't convert the time on the one kitchen clock at the last change.  I rather enjoyed the challenge of mentally converting to "real" time, whatever that is, and I don't have to get the darned clock off the wall to switch to daylight savings time now.  Heh heh heh.  (Hey, I'll take my triumphs whenever they come, small though they be.)

Close One

Whew!  I was this close yesterday morning when I picked up a book after chores.  "I'll just read a few pages and then get busy on the housework."  Where have we heard that one before?  This might be hard to believe, but that's exactly what I did!  Let me tell you, it wasn't easy, and it may be the first time it's ever happened.  Falling into a book for me is easier than sliding between satin sheets and I get lost in the written word.  Setting the book aside, I vacuumed and dusted in a cloud of self-righteous glory, only glancing now and then at the abandoned story.

There is no drama and little to no humor in housework.  I'll settle for the short-lived satisfaction of getting it done, and give myself a gold star for avoiding temptation.  This time.

Sleepy Time Gal

("Sleepy Time Gal," 1925 song, Manhattan Dance Makers)

There was a big gap between the plan and the deed yesterday.  While there was much that needed doing, what did I do?  I slept.  Responsible to no one, it is certainly not uncommon for me to take a nap at any time during the day, usually for a half hour.  It's one of the luxuries of being retired.  What was unusual this time was that I didn't wake up until after 5 p.m.!  Bessie Anne must have needed a long rest, too, because she normally tells me several times a day when she wants to go out, regardless of what I'm doing.  This was the sky as I dashed out the door to put the goats to bed and feed Missy.  She's getting very good about not biting, by the way.

You'd have to be of a certain age to remember the early days of television when there were "rabbit ears" antennae, sometimes wrapped with aluminum foil, that had to be positioned just so to get reception for all three channels that were available then.  I was reminded of them last evening when I saw the cat ears perfectly tuned to the TV.

Ralph stayed on duty, but Celeste curled up for a nap.  I couldn't see them, but I rather think that Ralph's eyes were closed, too.

After a day-long snooze, I thought I'd be up all night.  Nope.

I guess it was a good day.  I wouldn't know.  I was sleeping.

And Another Thing...

I'm starting to feel like one of the characters in "The Cat In The Hat."  Thing One lives in the feed barn, It burrowed under the shed porch, and now Thing Two has shown up.  That mountain of dark-colored dirt appeared in the barn yesterday.  I can find no tunnel from where all this dirt was dug, and there are no footprints to help identify whatever did the excavation.  With all the ground squirrel, gopher, and mouse tunnels and mounds I've seen, I've never seen this much loose dirt thrown up, so this Thing must be pretty big.  Too big, I fear, for tiny little Missy to take on.  There is a difference between a mouser and a mooser.  I like a mystery, but I prefer one in the pages of a book.

Speaking of books, I finished "Beneath A Scarlet Sky," all 514 pages, yesterday in time to take Bess down to the cookie store for birdseed.  I'd finished my transaction, but had to go back in because I'd forgotten to pick up two (always two) cookies for my girl.  The look on her face!

I called Arden to tell her thanks for the loan, and she said she had another book she wanted me to read.  "NO!  I have to get something done around here!  Maybe soon, though."  No time spent reading is wasted, but even I have my limits.  The next best thing to turning pages for a reader is to discuss the book with someone.  Arden belongs to a book club, but I'm not a joiner and have declined her invitation.  I do enjoy talking books, however.

All the rain followed by warm days has really brought out the frogs.  Last evening I let Bessie out for a potty run and the frog chorus was in full voice.  We're due for more rain and I hope it doesn't dampen their spirits.

Ambushed

Stalls in the barn were built with just half walls.  Steve added hog wire panels on top of the walls later when we discovered that goats could and did jump over.  I can see in, the girls can look out, and the panels keep the barn from looking like the catacombs.  Yesterday as I was going down the aisle in the back, suddenly Missy leaped at me from Tessie's room.  I was the one who jumped then.

When it's cold, Ralph and Celeste cuddle together on the bed and spend most of their time sleeping.  They are definitely more active on nice days.  Yesterday they took turns hiding around corners, in the stairwell, and behind doors to wait for the other to come by.  Then they'd race around the house, and that always ended in a tussle.  Goofy cats.

There were things I could and should have done, but I was ambushed by a book Arden had loaned me a week or two ago that I hadn't even opened.  She'd asked me several times how I liked it, and I had to confess I'd not started it yet.  After chores, guilt and a warm, sunny morning without any wind sent me out to the deck, book in hand.  Moving from outdoors to in, two hundred-plus pages later, I had to put the girls to bed.  "Beneath A Scarlet Sky" by Mark Sullivan is a docudrama set in Italy during WWII, a terrible time in history.  Like Ken Follett, Mr. Sullivan obviously researched the facts and then wove a fascinating story around them.  I don't imagine I'm going to get much done today, either.

It was still quite light when I went down to the barn.  I never hear the neighbors' big dogs during the day, but they do come to the fence to bark at sundown.  Tessie did her thing again and it was nearly dark when she finally decided to come in.  The photo doesn't really show the highlighted red and gold contrails. Drat.

It was a good day.

Cold Start

There is a saying, "Cold hands, warm heart."  Perhaps that applies to Nature, as she's giving us mornings down in the 20s. but then relents and afternoons are close to 50.  That's doable.  It allows me to conserve firewood.  When low temps are sustained, Stove can gobble up a wagon load a day.  It's always a race to see if winter or wood is going to win.

By the time the girls had had their breakfast, nearly all the snow had melted away.  When the race started (NASCAR Sunday) there wasn't a vestige left.  It was too nice a day, but when you're a committed fan, you're stuck inside.  Sigh.

Missy and I are going to have a talk.  She so wants petting and purrs loudly, but then turns to grab and nip my hand.  Unfortunately, biting to show affection is a cat trait.  Being winter, I've got gloves on and she does no harm, but come warmer days I won't have that protection.  We're having training sessions now.

We're in the process of changing seasons.  Sunrise is earlier and sundown is later.  One of these days whoever is in charge is going to change to Daylight Savings Time and the goats and I will get thrown into a tizzy.  Aarrgh.

Slow Going

Even though the sun had been up for a couple of hours, there was a pretty good ice crust on top of the snow and it was slow trip to the barn yesterday.  Opening doors, once again I was surprised (shocked, is more like it) at the ability of rain or melting ice drops from the roof to unerringly hit the margin of bare skin between my collar and my hat.  Talk about a waker-upper!

The photos are from the night before last.  All the snow was gone and the ground was clear when I put the girls to bed.  In the five minutes or so that chore took, it began to hail, and I mean it came down hard.  The top shot is as I was leaving the pen.  The other was as I approached the house.  It felt like getting hit with shotgun pellets (not that I've ever been hit with shotgun pellets).

By 10:00 yesterday, nearly all the overnight snow had melted, the sun shone brightly, and it was a beautiful morning.  When my friend Arden mentioned she needed supplies from Holiday, I offered to drive.  My truck has 4WD and her little car does not.  Even though the ground was clear here, I wasn't sure how the roads would be and it's better to be safe than sorry.  I knew it could be slow going.  We agreed to go in a couple of hours, but then I looked at the dark clouds to the west and moved the time up.  They can close in fast and it wouldn't do to get caught in a storm, rain or snow.  It's always good to spend time with my friend, we ran into no ice slicks, and we were home again, home again, jiggity jig.

In the afternoon, there was a rerun of the day before.  Hail pounded down and covered everything just as before.  What's up with that?  I brushed the pellets off the goats as they went into their stalls, imagining how it would feel when they melted.  Brrr!

There was just a light snowfall last night.  I think we're due for a couple of nice days before the next storm comes in.  I'll take 'em.

Night Life

Five a.m.  There is a full moon, and moonlight on fresh-fallen snow is lovely.  No snow on the satellite dishes is better!  There was actually more snow in the afternoon and evening yesterday than the day before, but no wind.  Regardless, Bessie's trip outside was brief today.  Not that anyone is paying attention, but if they noticed I wonder what people would think about the lady on the hill who turns her porch light on then quickly off in the early morning hours.  Is she signaling in the dark, and to whom?

Going down to the barn on a snowy morning is educational.  Not all creatures go to bed when it gets dark.  Tracks in the snow tell an interesting story.  Deer had jumped the fence to have an alfalfa snack and maybe get a drink of water.  Rabbits went back and forth on the driveway, going about whatever rabbits do.  The goats and I may not, but many others seem to have a very active nightlife.

Stove has developed a voracious appetite and I had to bring up a couple more loads of firewood to keep him happy.  When Stove is the only source of heat, his satisfaction is a primary goal.  If I couldn't tell the house was warm myself, I know we're up to temp when the cats and Bess stretch out by the hearth stone to soak up the heat.  They abandon my lap in favor of the warmer spot.

So far, so good with power.  We're not out of those woods yet, but fingers crossed.  I try to keep ahead of those things that need electricity, just in case.  It's a bit like knowing company is coming; do the dishes and run the vacuum while there's time.  Dusting can wait.  (Dusting is always last on my list.)

We're due for more snow today.  I'm glad I don't have to go anywhere...except to the barn.

Country Life

Oh man, we had some hellacious wind yesterday.  What started out in the dark o' morn as bad turned into worse.  Up here on the top of the hill, we got battered.  My sit-on-the-deck bench got moved here, there, and everywhere.  Rain blew sideways onto the porch and soaked the pile of firewood.  Sigh.  It rained, but snow held off until after dark and I'd put the kids to bed.

And then it snowed.  As far as snow goes, it wasn't a lot, but the wind packed the satellite dishes to the TV and computer and it didn't melt off until 10 this morning so I was without either.  The couple of icy inches on the ground made for an exciting slip-and-slide trip to the barn.  Missy had gotten tired of waiting and was on the lookout in the milking (feeding) room.  She spooked Tessie big-time when she made her way through Tessie's room back to "her" stall.  "Where were you?  Don't you know we're starving down here?"  No one can give you grief like a cat.

Bless my Kids for checking in with me this morning.  "Yes, I'm fine.  It's all good."  It's nice to know they've got my back just in case.

What are ya gonna do?  That's country life.

Three Little Pigs

Waldo is currently just chillin' in the bathroom, completely ignored and probably feeling sorry for himself.  Al hasn't been seen for days.  What I did find in the wastebasket yesterday was not one, but three little pigs!  One might have been an accident, but three?!  I envision Celeste hitting her mark and yelling, "Score!," and possibly doing a little touchdown dance at the goal line.

Since my main work in the barn is with the goats, Missy sometimes gets short shrift.  I had a little extra time yesterday and picked her up.  She seems to crave affection, loves to be petted, and would follow me if I allowed it.  What I found when I had a chance to really look at her was that she has a "tipped" ear, indicating that she was possibly a member of a feral "care colony" who had been taken to a vet and spayed.  The very tip of one ear is removed during that procedure.  The bad news is that she probably belongs elsewhere and is just freeloading here.  The good news is that she has been spayed.  I'd been worried about how I was going to get that done.  Wherever she actually lives, she's got my schedule down to the minute and is ready and waiting for me to fill her bowl.  Oh well, she earns her keep.

In addition to other prep work, I got the laundry done and ran the dishwasher.  Lack of water in a power outage is a prime concern.  Stove has a good supply of fuel, and bills got paid while I still have electricity.  The cellphone is charged.  The timing of the storm's arrival was somewhat delayed and the wind didn't kick in until after dark last night.  It's blowing big time this morning with just sporadic rain.  I'm about as ready as I can get (she said hopefully).