Take My Advice

Good advice is useless unless it's taken, and I deplore waste.  After writing and rereading yesterday's bit, I answered my own question and decided I could make do with what I had for another day or two and delay the dreaded trip to town.  Remember the Procrastinator's Creed:  Never do today that which can be put off until tomorrow.  In response to Kit's comment:  Yes, waiting until the last minute makes a challenge out of a chore.

Most of Michael's walks are utilitarian, but he has added an outing strictly for pleasure.  At a certain time in the afternoon on a good day, he gives me the signal.  I grab his leash while he waits.  We go out the front door, but walk no farther than the end of the deck.  We have our assigned places to sit in the warmth of the sun, listen to the birds, watch clouds drift overhead.  When, and only when, he's satisfied, we come back into the house through the bedroom door.  Celeste, Michael's BFF, is always waiting just inside to welcome him back.  It's a nice routine.

Would that the end of the calendar year meant the real end of all that 2020 wreaked, but I fear there will be leftovers or hangovers for some time.  Take my advice and look for the good.  It might be minuscule, but there's some in every day.

Happy New Year!

Stay safe.  Be well.

Ask Yourself

In order to become a master procrastinator (that's fun to say), there are important questions to ask yourself, and I, procrastinator extraordinaire, am willing to share.  Obviously, I have thought about this for some time, some long time, before deciding to do this piece.  The following are in no particular order and not all will apply to every situation.  When you get around to it, feel free to pick and choose at will.

Can it wait?  (Top of the list, and is mandatory.)

Do I need it right now?

Will anyone or thing be hurt, deprived, or starve if I do it later?

Do I have to have/do it at all?

Is there a substitute that will save me?

Is the weather propitious?  Too hot, cold, wet, dry?

Is company coming?  (Applies to dusting only.)

Will it disturb sleeping cats?

Will one more day really matter?  (Can be asked several days in a row.)

This is the beginner's list.  Add to it as more and better questions occur.  I wouldn't want to overwhelm you all at once.

Obviously, I didn't go to town yesterday.  I'm out of excuses.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Not Cricket

Chirp, chirp, chirp...it goes on and on and, for the time being, there's nothing I can do about it.  I don't need to go on a cricket hunt because it's not a cricket.  The downstairs smoke detector is telling me it would like a new battery.  The detector is in the shop section, the room with an unfinished 10-foot ceiling.  If I had trouble with a two-step step stool in the kitchen, you can bet your bottom dollar I'm not going up on a ladder (the Kids' threats not withstanding).  Under the circumstances, it's not all bad.  Downstairs, behind closed doors, that repetitive chirp is low key, there, but not driving me to distraction.  No one goes down there anymore, so the chances of a fire are nil.  Living out here, I keep a supply of batteries of all shapes and sizes on hand.  And, best of all, Cameron is coming soon.  I know what will be numero uno on Helper Dude's list.

Yesterday was chill, but nothing Stove couldn't deal with.  However, the sky at sundown was a possible portent of what may come today.  Of course it will.  I have to go to town today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Speechless

Other than walking with Michael, yesterday was pretty much a sit-stay day, leaving me with not much to say.  After a less than spectacular start, the Steelers won their game with the Colts, not by much, but enough.  That took a chunk of time.  Before, after, and well into the night, I was glued to the TV playing catch-up with a series, "Yellowstone," recommended by my daughter.  As it happens, the channel was playing all episodes from three seasons.  Having rather eclectic tastes, I have no problem going from "The Bishop's Wife" to a modern-day cowboy "Sopranos" on horseback, full of double-dealing, gun play, and family intrigue.  The cats were happy as they were seldom displaced from my lap.  Michael got his outings and I got some exercise and fresh air.  That was about it for the day.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Good Taste

 

Look into this face and tell me Michael is not a sentient being.  Intelligence just shines out of those eyes.  This is not a dog to whom one would talk baby talk.  Can you imagine his disdain if I were to ask him, "Does Babykins want nummies?"  I would slink away in shame at his response.

Michael is a dog of discriminating taste.  Carrots, no.  Yams, yes.  Green beans, no.  Spinach, yes.  Color has nothing to do with his likes and dislikes, and he does like veggies.  He is definite, but not effusive.  There is no bouncing up and down, no begging for food.  Even when eating from his bowl of kibble, there is great restraint.  If he had a napkin, he would carefully place it before beginning.  As it is, he lies down by his bowl and politely eats one piece at a time.

If Michael is lacking anything, it is a sense of humor.  He does not play.  There is a basket of toys that goes untouched.  We do not chase or tease.  I can only imagine the look I'd get if I were so inclined.  There is no other dog like Michael.

This last weather front has been a relatively warm one, but, of course, it is winter.  I was speaking with Tinka yesterday and I mentioned that I had not yet lit a fire so far, not wanting to deplete the woodpile and waste the Kids' work.  Tinka said, "Light a fire!  They did all that work because they wanted you to be warm.  They'll get you more wood."  Never let it be said that I won't take good advice.  I put Stove to work last night.  Ahhh.

Stay safe.  Be warm.

PS:  Did you notice that I got the picture and text to line up?!

That Was Different

"Normal" is a relative term, subject to interpretation and circumstance.  If yesterday was an example of the new normal, put me down as not very happy (or merry).  It wasn't a bad day...just blah.  I heard, via phone and texts, from family and friends, but it was far different this year.  No hugs, no laughing, no Dave with a bagful of silly games and toys for the now-grownup Kids.  (He loves/ed to play Santa!)  A bowl of Thai rice and veggies instead of the gallons of chili verde that was always Craig's favorite Christmas Day meal.  Whether through disappointment or frustration, I did something I rarely-to-never do...I grazed.  I didn't count how many times I drifted into the kitchen, opening cupboards, refrigerator, and freezer, looking for something, anything, to fill that empty spot.  The rain that came early in the day suited my mood perfectly, as did the endless machinations in reruns of "The Good Wife."

Any Christmas spirit I had was a gift from my daughter.  Her holiday tree and decorations put Macy's window displays to shame, and she shared via photos.

Enough of the boo-hoo-hoos.  There is much in my life for which to be thankful.  All my family and friends are well, as am I.  There is a January 20 on the calendar.  As I have said so many times in the past, the one thing you can count on is change.  I'm ready for that.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Country Style

As you can see, I'm still having trouble tweaking photos and photo placement, but I'm working on it.

Needs must, and I had to go to the store yesterday.  Michael was disappointed because Holiday is the one store to which he cannot go, but he accepts "I'll be back" quite well, sighs, and lies down.  The little cabin across the road had put up Christmas lights and I was enjoying them when I caught sight of my own decoration hanging on the barbed wire fence.  Not quite believing what I was seeing, I stopped and backed up to get a better look.  Yup, it was a skull.  Whether from a long-dead goat or deer, I do not know...could be either one, they are so similar.  Now the question was, how did it come to hang on my fence?  I'm guessing it was a coyote trying to jump over with a trophy, but who knows.  I'll settle for holiday decorations, country style.

Loving shopping as I do, as long as I was there, I went on a major spree, scooping up one-dish frozen meals and salads.  For a single person, they're just as economical as meals prepared at home and I'm not stuck with a week's worth of leftovers, a la the whatever it was the last time I made a big pot of something or other.

My nod to the holiday was watching the original "The Bishop's Wife" (1947, Cary Grant, David Niven, Loretta Young), such a great feel-good Christmas movie.

The new year is almost upon us.  Let's hope it's a better one.

Stay safe.  Be well.  Ho ho ho!

Record Setting

They just kept coming and coming!  Michael and I stepped out in the morning and a few turkeys were walking across the front yard.  We stopped out of courtesy to give them the right of way, and then more came.  And more.  It was a parade of thirty-four! and there were no stragglers.  These guys were in close-order march formation.  My jaw dropped.  I've never seen a flock (rafter) so large ever.  Where did they come from?  Where were they going?  What was the plan?  The 13 or so vultures present were pretty interested, too, and Michael stood stock-still.

It's Christmas Eve, and, like Scrooge, I am visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past.  I am happy to see this wraith because he will be my only visitor this year, this damnable year.  Waiting for the coffeemaker to do its thing this morning, I remembered holidays when the Kids were little and those more recent Christmases when we were all together.  I have a feeling these memories will rush in all day, and welcome they will be.

Coffee in a mug doesn't stay hot long in a frigid room.  The sun is just lighting the sky and it's time to get moving.  Merry Christmas, however it is for you this year.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Frustration!

OMG!  Save me from "updates"!!  That which had been so easy has become so blankety-blank hard since the unseen powers that be decided that easy was too easy and they did an update.  Inserting a photo used to take a click here or there and now takes multiple steps with left and right mouse buttons and I still can't edit as I used to.  Bear with me while I find my way (or try to) in this strange new world.  I gave up yesterday in utter frustration and decided I'd best quit while I had what was left of my patience and my mind, thus no entry at all.

The photo is of what I found an unusual sight.  Not the vultures, of course.  There are at least twenty of the big guys hanging out here daily on posts and wires.  However, finding pedestrian vultures is highly unusual.  What was up with that?  "My" vultures are so used to Michael and I walking the drive that they wait until we are within a few feet before takeoff.  Even the birds on foot weren't in any big hurry to leave.  Go figure.

I don't know what the blog will look like in the future.  Fingers crossed.

Stay well.  Be safe.

Bingeing

My DVR is put to good use, saving multiple episodes of some program or other to watch consecutively.  Last evening American Experience was the choice.  I always learn something about American history...not always fun, sometimes sad, but always interesting and educational.

The Dust Bowl in the 1930s was unbelievable, and the devastation to people and the land lasted for years.  The film of enough dust and dirt to black out the sun coming in rolling clouds was terrifying.  Imagine having to use a shovel to get it out of your house.

Does anyone remember or even know (I didn't) that it took sixty (60!) years of active participation by suffragettes to accomplish getting women the basic right to vote in 1920?  Women were ridiculed, beaten, and jailed for thinking they were equal and able.  Amazing.

The similarities between the influenza epidemic of 1918 and Covid-19 are eerily similar, except that the influenza killed people of all ages in a matter of hours instead of agonizing months.  People were a little smarter then and wore masks voluntarily.  Doctors and scientists didn't even know what a virus was and had no idea how to fight, cure, or prevent the invisible enemy.

The Chinese Exclusion was a dark period of history, one which unfortunately repeats itself with those who do not look like "us."  I do not and cannot understand the concept of white supremacy, nor do I want to.  I credit my parents for raising me to be racially and religiously tolerant.  Prejudice is taught.

I highly recommend American Experience.  It's on PBS, my go-to channel.  I think I'll watch "It's A Wonderful Life" tonight.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Boxed In

Not too long ago, a package was delivered.  As one does, I inspected the contents in the packing box and set the box aside.  I wasn't the only one gifted that day.  The empty box was the perfect size for one cat and Celeste immediately took possession and moved in.  Ralph tried his darndest to evict her, but she stood him off with hisses and claws.  He tried ambushing her, but had to wait until she got bored before he got his chance.  The box became the bone of contention for days...until by chance I received another delivery.  Dr. Seuss may have had a Cat In A Hat, I have a set of cats in boxes.  My living room looks like a trash bin, but Ralph and Celeste are happy.  Of course, each one thinks the other's cave is better, so every day is moving day.

The cats may be boxed in, but the dog is wrapped up.  I didn't light a fire last night, but that didn't mean I let Michael get cold.  When he gets all comfy like this, if I get up for some reason all he does is open one eye, hoping I don't need him for anything.  Heaven help me if I should disturb the dog.

With a little help this morning, I am finally able to post a photo.  It still needs a little tweaking, but at least I'm able to share.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Moving Parts

I need a major overhaul.  I need a jump start in the morning, every morning.  All moving parts could do with a good squirt of oil.  The main engine sputters in fits and starts as I try to remember the name of that long-time actor whose face is as familiar as my own.  Well, that's not exactly true.  My face is unfamiliar to me now, and a paint job wouldn't help.  There's not a body shop on earth that could smooth out all the wrinkles, bumps and kinks.  I'll say this...as long as I keep putting in fuel and don't take her out too often, the old gal keeps on truckin'.

That danged Missy is tormenting the inside cats again, leaping up to hang on the screens and scaring them silly.  Having led such a sheltered life, Ralph and Celeste are the original scaredy cats.  Missy sure isn't doing my screens any good, no matter how much fun she's having.

When Michael needs to go outside after dark, he knows we can only go as far as the circle of light from the porch.  I'm not risking another face plant.  Last night he stopped and stared intently at the front yard.  He never barks or makes a sound of alarm, so it wasn't until I heard the boink, boink, boink in the leaves that I knew he'd smelled a deer who didn't want to share our company.

On our afternoon walk, there was a cacophony of cawing from a multitude of crows in an oak in the north field.  I mean, it was loud!  The turkeys below took it as long as they could and then yelled as a group, "Shut up!"  And the crows did.

The coffee is gone and the sun is rising...time to get revved up and moving, albeit slowly at best.

Stay safe.  Be well.

The Place To Be

There was rather a stunned silence when I announced to my son that the UPS driver would probably be moving in with me.  When I quit laughing, I explained.  When Stan came up, he did not come empty handed.  He put a case of beer and a large bottle of high-end whiskey on the porch.  Not wanting to appear overeager, I left it there.  Since the weather has been nearly as cold as the inside of the refrigerator, I wasn't in any hurry to move it.  Yesterday when Michael and I went out for our afternoon walk, there, tucked by the beer and whiskey, was a large box of assorted candy from my niece.  In my mind, I could hear the deliveryman saying, "Man, these people know how to live!"  (All items are in the house now.)

Yesterday's rain had let up by morning and it was a lovely day.  That's the way to get rain...overnight and then dry.  Unless you work the night shift, there's no inconvenience and all of the benefits.

While the holidays are going to be quiet this year, I'm enjoying making and receiving phone calls from family and friends.  I'm not the only one missing being with loved ones.  I considered putting up a Christmas tree, but then Ralph raced by and I thought the better of it.  Who knows when I'd get around to taking it down again or, more likely, picking up the broken pieces.

Stay safe.  Be well.  Cheers!

Rewards

I really didn't want to go to town yesterday.  I mean, twice in one week?!  Needs must, however, so Michael loaded up and off we went.  Our timing was right and there was very little traffic on the road.  It's a pretty drive as long as someone isn't crawling up your tailpipe and I'm not looking for a safe place to pull over.

Crossing the parking lot at the bank, two older women, masks on, were just sort of standing there.  Michael, always the gardener, was headed for the shrubbery.  It's his self-imposed duty to water every plant planted.  The women commented on Michael, how handsome, etc., and I noticed that one woman was holding a teeny-tiny poodle.  She allowed as how her dog wouldn't even make an appetizer for Michael, and she was right, if Michael had been that sort of fellow.

We went on in to tend to business.  The line grew behind us, including the women and their dog.  With the two dogs in there, clients started chatting as they waited.  "What kind of dog is he?"  "What's his name?"  And, of course, there were comments about how handsome he is.  The poodle was anxious to play, and finally the woman, after asking, set the little thing down.  The dogs went nose to nose before adopting that elbows-on-the-floor stance that indicates playtime.  My transaction was concluded and so we had to leave Michael's new friend, but I think he really enjoyed this outing.

I stopped on the way home to pick up Chinese food for dinner.  After all, a lady needs a reward for doing double duty in a week.

A rainstorm blew in during the night.  Stove is going to earn his keep today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Time Out

During the Vietnam War (can you believe now that they called it a 'conflict'?), newspapers published the names of the casualties daily, more and more each day.  As the mother of young sons, these unending lists tore my heart out.  Finally I couldn't take it anymore and quit.  I quit reading newspapers and quit watching news on TV.  There was nothing I could do about the war, so decided I would put all my energies into my family.

When the towers were hit on 9/11, I never left the television for two weeks solid, crying night and day for all the many affected.  And then I couldn't.  I didn't stop caring, but I did quit watching.

Between politics and Covid-19 this year, I was watching the news in mounting horror for four and five hours a day.  It wasn't healthy.  I knew it, and I knew how I was reacting.  I quit.  Sometimes, when faced with a situation over which there is no control, it's best to take a time out.

And that's where I am these days.  I walk with Michael.  We sit on the deck or porch in companionable silence.  We listen to the birds and watch leaves flutter in the breeze.  I laugh at Ralph as he runs zoomies through the house, and stroke Celeste as she claims her spot on my lap.  I catch a glimpse of local news only and watch old reruns.  Sometimes a time out is a good thing.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Lucky Day

The fog burned off here pretty early, and Stan found his way out of the grey, dismal valley by 10 a.m.  I'd given up any expectations, so it was a grand surprise when he drove up.  The porch in shade had all the appeal of an icebox, so we, including Michael, went out to the deck to sit in the sunshine and chat.  Michael, isolated here with a woman, makes it obvious that he really enjoys the company of men and went to lie by Stan.  Stan is the contact man for the family and caught me up on the news.  He has never had a harsh word to say about anyone and always brings good tidings.  Our conversation ranged far and wide.  Stan is a talker by nature, and after months in isolation I was so happy to have someone to talk with.  Michael just drowsed in the sun.

We packed a lot into the few hours before Stan had to head back.  It was my lucky day.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Disappointed

Stan, my brother-in-law, had said he'd be coming up this morning.  I don't think that's going to happen.  My world is shrouded in fog and I am told it's even worse down in the valley.  It's just not safe.

We caught a few breaks in the rain yesterday.  Michael took care of business and we hurried back inside.  Stove sends out a rush of warmth when I open the door..."Welcome home!"  A shared yam again for dinner.  Whoopi Goldberg might take on "The Color Purple" (1985 film, Danny Glover, Oprah Winfrey), but Michael and I will be the color orange before the yams run out.  Hot from the oven and buttery on a cold day, they never disappoint.

It's nice to know that Stan is planning a visit, even if it's not today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Sleepyhead

"A birdie with a yellow bill, hopped up on my windowsill.  Cocked his shining eye and said, "Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepyhead?"  Another one of my mother's numerous ditties.  This one actually came from a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson.

If the sun was going to come out today, it would have beat me.  I have an excuse for my tardy rising, but it's not worth mentioning.  As it is, the day began without me, and it's rainy and cold.  Michael is wise to sleep in even later because it's pouring outside now and the wind is howling.  One thing about living on top of the hill, we get the brunt of whatever weather comes our way.

We lucked out yesterday.  The rain had stopped by our morning walk, drifted in and out throughout the day, and there was even a dab of sunshine in the afternoon.  Michael needed one more outing after dark, and it was eerie.  We were in the middle of a cloud and it was as if the world were wrapped in cotton batting...absolutely silent.  Michael felt it, too, and didn't dawdle so we could head back to the house and the welcome warmth of Stove.  I see another fire in our future today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Mission Accomplished

AKA 'Mission Impossible,' (1966, 7 seasons, 1988, 2 seasons) TV series with Steven Hill, Barbara Bain, Peter Graves, Jon Voigt, Martin Landau, Leonard Nimoy, and Sam Elliott...how's that for early all-star casting?!

Yesterday did not have a propitious start.  Power outages, not once, but twice!  I'm developing a personal relationship with PG&E.  I called the first time at dawn's early light.  "Yes, there is an outage in your area affecting 500-and-something residences."  They got it fixed pretty fast (relatively speaking).  Not an hour later, boop!, it went out again.  I called again.  "Ma'am, power has been restored in that area."  "Umm, no."  She checked, came back on the line, "I'm so sorry...yes, it's out and affecting over 700 now."  I guess somebody remembered to put the plug in because we had electricity PDQ.

Shopping is a different experience now.  Back in the day (like last year), you went to the store and your only difficulty was making a selection among the many, many choices offered...twenty kinds of bread, every brand and kind of soup produced, all sizes of each product provided.  It was mind boggling.  Now, not s'much.  I got the last jar of mayonnaise on the shelf and it wasn't the brand I wanted.  (Don't let anybody tell you all mayonnaise is the same.)  I left without a couple of things I wanted.  Oh, they had them, but were on shelves above my reach and there were no tall people around to ask for help.  It really was Mission Impossible.

Mission accomplished, both Michael and I were glad to get home.  Me, just because, and Michael so he could get a drink of water...he'd peed on every bush in P'ville (Peeville!).

It had been chill and overcast all day and the house was freezing.  I broke down and lit a fire.  Gosh, it felt good.  The rain started just after dark...a nice, gentle rain.  All's well that ends well.

Stay safe.  Be well.

The Eyes Have It

Ever get that feeling you're being watched?  I should be used to it after all these years, but it's always a little unnerving when I feel eyes on me and glance up and see a turkey on the deck rail looking in at me.  It's the season, I guess.  This turk walked the rail, looking in all the windows like he was casing the joint.  I don't know about these things, but I'm thinking he was looking at his reflection and perhaps thinking there was a rival, because he paused in front of one window and started that "tok, tok, tok" sound of challenge.  Ralph and Celeste were riveted.  Challenge not met, turk finally walked away, feeling he was the winnah, I'm sure.  Such are the dramas of my day.

Do I really need that today?  Can it wait a little longer?  Can I put it off one more day?  These are my procrastination favorites when I think about going to town.  I love it when the answer is yes.  I guess I don't need to tell you I didn't go yesterday.  I fear today is the day of reckoning.  Sigh.

Stay safe.  Be well.

PS:  The neighs come from next door.

Take A Deep Breath

Alternate title:  'All's Well That Ends Well.'

Okay, panic time is over.  The auto shop called yesterday and said the problem was the alternator, fixable, and at a cost that wouldn't send me to the Poor House.  Truck is a 1998, so these things are to be expected.  He's a good old work horse.  Had the circumstances been different, I might not have pushed the panic button so hard, but I'm not ashamed to admit I was shaken to the core.  I'll get him back today.  Whew!  Thanks for all the good wishes and offers of help...very much appreciated.

Given that I had time to calm down, yesterday was a pretty good day.  It was a little cooler, and sitting out on the deck in the sunshine at Michael's request felt good.  Doing nothing felt good.  I binge watched episodes of NYPD Blue.  That series came out in 1993, and, boy, the changes that have been made.  All the telephones were on cords.  There might have been one computer in the department, but all reports were handwritten.  They used walkie-talkies to communicate when out in the field.  It's like watching a time capsule.

Michael and I weren't the only ones appreciating the weather.  Eighteen vultures were on posts lining the goat pen, wings spread in that wonderful heraldic pose.  There were youngsters with black heads and the elders whose heads had turned red.  Even ornithologists have trouble determining gender.  They are huge, magnificent birds.  Knowing that we are no threat, they will let us get within a few feet before taking off, only to move to another post.  They call Farview home.

Among the goodies that Deb and Craig brought up was a bag (a bag!) of yams.  I sure don't want them to go to waste, so have had a baked yam every day this week.  Michael, who doesn't care for carrots, likes yams also, and he gets a few bites of my dinner.  Who knew?

After imagining the worst, and I did, and after the terrifying events of the day before, it was good to take a deep breath and spend a day calming down.  It was a good day.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Lady In Waiting

Alternate title:  'It Could Have Been Worse.'

It was a beautiful day.  Michael, anticipating all those wonderful piddle spots in town, was eager to "Load up!"  I even got an early start, wow.  Down at the big road, a neighbor was about to take his trash across and I stopped to say hi.  I had a little trouble getting the passenger window to roll down...that was strange.  Conversation over, we went on our ways.  That's when Truck began to misbehave, with brief surges and then hesitation, not like good Old Reliable at all.  Coming to the Fair Play corner, I decided I'd best head toward the auto shop in Mt. Aukum instead of town, and headed in that direction.  Yeah, well.  I didn't get far.  Just after rounding the worst blind curve on that road, Truck died.  Died deader than a doornail.  I was terrified.  The first of yesterday's guardian angels, a young man working on a nearby house, appeared out of nowhere.  "Honk your horn!  Traffic is coming!"  Truck didn't have a beep left in him.  Aarrgh!  This gentleman pushed Truck over to the side of the road, not an easy task with no power steering, but he got it done, bless him, and while stuck, we were safe.  Then the second miracle, I had cellphone service, always iffy in these hills!

Still shaking badly and near tears, I called AAA.  "What city are you in?"  "There is no city."  "Ma'am, I need to know what city you're in."  "Listen carefully, there is NO city!  Mt. Aukum is a feed store and an auto shop.  Fair Play is a pub and a winery.  Somerset is a little store, the post office, and a defunct cafe.  I'm miles from all three...there is NO CITY!"  Ms. Helpful finally picked Somerset.  "I'm alone and I have my dog with me.  I'll need a ride."  "Ma'am, due to Covid, no passengers are allowed to ride in the tow trucks."  "What are you going to do with me?  I'm 80 years old and I have my dog.  Are you just going to leave us on the side of the road?  I have a mask!"  "Let me see if I can find a company that will allow you to ride along."  Long minutes later, she called me back, having found a company down below Amador that would accept a passenger, but it would be another couple of hours before they could get to me.  Turned out to be over three.  I took Michael on several walks, poor thing.  If I couldn't understand what was happening, he was really confused.

When the second angel finally appeared, he said, "Boy, you're really in a bad spot," like I didn't know that.  He figured out the logistics of getting Truck up on his slide bed, but it would take up all of the narrow road to do so.  When he'd decided how to get it done, I went to the curve to wave down traffic, and there was a line of cars going home by the time Truck was loaded.  Those people were not happy.  You'd laugh to see me struggling to climb up into his enormous vehicle and he had to lift Michael in, but we were safe.  We got to the auto shop within minutes of closing.  Whew!  Truck was safe.  Michael and I were safe, and Scott had his helper, the third angel of the day, drive us home.

It's not a day I'd want to repeat.  However, it could have been worse.  We weren't smashed into on that blind curve.  Angels appeared as needed.  The shop was still open.  We got home safe and sound.  Yep, given the circumstances it was, if not a good day, over at last.  It only took four hours.

Stay safe.  Be well.

The Gang's All Here

(Hail, Hail, The Gang's All Here, song from 1917,)

Like teenage boys, a gang of nine young-ish male turkeys has been cruising through the yard twice a day for some time now.  They don't bother anything or anyone.  We give and get respect, and leave each other space.  Lacking a corner to hang out on, they congregate under the oak by the woodpile in the afternoon, maybe hoping for some 'chicks' to pass by.  Yesterday, the original nine was joined by another nine recruits.  That's quite a group.  I wonder what the initiation process was like and if they're getting ready for the turkey wars.

That early morning wind came back about dawn yesterday, strong enough that it could have justified cutting the power (they didn't), and lasted all morning.  It blew all the leaves off the walkway and put them on the porch.  Oh goody.  At least I can see and avoid all the potholes on the way to the truck now.

A word of caution.  Before I could figure out a safe place to put the poinsettia, Ralph chomped on one of those beautiful red leaves.  He's okay because he immediately barfed it up.  Poinsettias are poisonous to cats!  The plant is out of reach now.

We have to go to town today.  Maybe someday I can get my meds coordinated so I can avoid some of these trips for refills.  This is me, who used to take maybe one aspirin a year.  Sigh.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Reprieve

The powers that be at PG&E (that's a joke, son) decided yesterday that they would not perform an outage today.  Yay!  They may have doubted that decision this morning because there's a pretty stiff wind blowing.  Falling dry leaves sound like rain pattering on the deck in the dark.  No...wait.  It suddenly seems to have died down.  Goody!  It would have been such a shame to lose electricity just after getting all that wonderful bright light in the kitchen.  The coffee got made and I've got the computer.  These hours before dawn go quickly when I'm occupied, but dr-a-ag in the dark, waiting for sunrise.  So far, so good.

I'm going to gain ten pounds after Deb and Craig's visit and delivery service.  Yakisoba the first day and chickpea masala yesterday.  I'd forgotten how wonderfully spicy and filling that Indian dish is, and it takes only a minute in the microwave.  That's one reason I had it yesterday, anticipating no power today.  It pays to plan ahead for these events.

Once is a habit with Michael (if it's something he likes or likes to do).  During the heat of summer, I stopped going out to sit on the end of the deck.  This fall weather has been so mild, that bench in the sunshine started looking good again, especially when the house gets so cold.  He wasn't too sure about it the first time, but now he asks to go out and heads right for the steps.  This isn't a potty run, it's sit or lie down, listen to the birds, and get warm time.  Hey, I'm for it.

Stay safe.  Be well.  And may the (power) force be with you.

My Cup Runneth Over

A couple of hours can make your whole day, and my day yesterday was better than great.  The Kids arrived midmorning and I think Michael was as excited as I to see their truck drive up.  The cats, of course, ducked into the bedroom, not to be seen again for the duration.  Deb and Craig, masked and gloved, started unloading supplies and this time brought them into the house.  They were coming in anyhow for light bulb duty.  Not only did they replace the burned-out bulbs, they changed others that were growing dim.  Holy cow!  What a difference.  Let there be light!  The new ones are LEDs and the kitchen is now so bright I could perform surgery in there.  It actually startled me the first time I flipped a switch.  As I told Deb, airplanes could use them as runway lights.  The rest of their too-short visit took place on the porch.  Craig, dear man that he is, filled the rack with wagon after wagonload of firewood.  I'm darned near set for the winter.

I'm greedy and wanted more of their company, but coming up took a big chunk of their weekend.  They both work and time is precious.  I'm just grateful for what they could spare.  No goodbye hugs, but lots of 'I love you's' as they drove away.

After they'd gone, I came in to see what all they'd brought.  Staples like toilet paper, yes, and canned goods, yes, but also a beautiful poinsettia for the holidays (my only decoration).  I'll have to find a place for it out of Ralph's reach.  Deb is such a traditionalist.  She'd included a box of See's candy "from Grandpa and me."  My dad has been dead for forty years, and never once has my daughter forgotten.  The virus wasn't going to change that.  I put the box in the cupboard and won't bring it out until Christmas.

That's the only self-control of which I was capable.  I'd thought to have the yakisoba for dinner, but knowing it was in the freezer was too much and it was lunchtime, after all.  Oh man, it hit the spot.  The Kids had included a carton of chickpea masala, also delicious, and I'll save that for another day.

I'm not looking forward to the power outage tomorrow.  I am glad for the warning as it gives me time to make sure all bowls and troughs are filled with water.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Just Ask

Didn't I say I needed a deadline?  Well, I got one.  Deb and Craig are coming up today!  What with the virus situation, all I'd normally have to do for company would be to sweep the porch.  I can't remember the last time anyone was in my house and Michael and the cats aren't judgemental when it comes to dust.  However, on this visit the Kids are going to replace all those burned-out light bulbs in the kitchen, the ones I'm about 2" too short to reach.  I got quite a bit done yesterday, but not everything.  Deb promised they wouldn't look at anything but the light bulbs.  They're pretty trustworthy, but still....

Yesterday, Friday, I got a deadline of another sort.  PG&E sent notice that, because of weather, they're going to shut down power on Monday through Tuesday!  Their weatherman must be a whole lot better than most to gauge the weather four days out.  The last few times, we've only gotten a puff of breeze, if that, instead of the predicted high winds.  Sigh.

Knowing that my personal shoppers were going to Costco, the one thing I did ask for was yakisoba.  The Kids got me hooked on the stuff and I've been craving it.  Deb said Craig had found it and they'd be bringing some.  I know what I'll be having for dinner!

Stay safe.  Be well.

Deadline

I have to find a way to put some structure back in my life.  Without some sort of deadline, everything has just gone higgledy-piggledy around here.  Lists of chores are fine, but pretty much 'when I get around to it.'  Every morning, Steve would start the day with, "What's the plan?"  I need a plan, not my usual 'Well, I should do this, or I could do that,' and end up not doing much of anything.  I don't know what I'd do without the animals.  They all get fed and Michael gets his walks.  I need them as much as or more than they need me.  Maybe I'll get a day-planner.  Or not.  (See what I mean?)  There was an old song we sang at Girl Scout camp..."Today is Monday.  Monday's wash day, Tuesday's ironing, etc."  Maybe I'll try that.  Not that I'll be doing any ironing.  When Linda was staying here, I couldn't even find the ironing board for her.  That's one of the benefits of wearing bibbies and tee-shirts.

Wish me luck.  The sun will be up soon, and that means my computer time is over...my one deadline for the day.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Odds And Ends

That red lentil and rice jambalaya I made?  It was really good the first day...and the second...and the third.  By yesterday, the sixth day, let me tell you I was glad to see the end of it!  Another example of there can be too much of a good thing.  That's what happens when you live alone and a recipe makes a lot and doesn't freeze well.  Some time back, George brought me a huge frozen bag of black bean soup, must be a gallon of it, and I'm afraid to thaw it out in case of a repeat of the jambalaya experience.  This 'no company' business is really getting old.

Michael and I had to make a couple of local stops yesterday.  I was having anxiety attacks because I'd let the gas get low in the truck.  Any kind of emergency and I'd be dead in the water here with no way out.  It really struck me at both Mt. Aukum and Gray's Corner that evidently grey hair is the only requirement for wearing a mask, all other faces were bare, smiling, but bare.  Only those of us with 'snow on the roof' were protecting ourselves and others.  I don't like wearing a mask, either, but it's only common sense to me.  I watch the news, I see the numbers, I hear the pleas, and listen to those weary, tearful, worn-out health-care workers begging people to take this small precaution.  Who cannot be affected by the sight of refrigerated semi trucks called 'temporary morgues' lined up at hospitals because too many are dying too fast.  I try to keep my soapbox in the closet, but this is so important, too important.  Wear the damned mask.  If you wait until you have grey hair, it may be too late.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Carded

No, I haven't started hanging out in bars, and if a bartender asked to see my ID at my age, I'd have to recommend he get his eyes checked, but I was carded yesterday.  I got a Christmas card!  I hope Cousin Sandy has stock in Hallmark.  Because of her, they stay in business.  (I got a card at Thanksgiving, too.)  I start smiling when I see her name on the envelope at the mailbox, and grin when I open the card at home.  It's like getting a long-distance hug.

Once upon a time, long, long ago, before texts, emails and IMs, Christmas cards announced the season and were a way to send greetings and love, sometimes to those we contacted only once a year.  I would buy a couple boxes of 50 each and start signing and addressing the day after Thanksgiving, usually adding a letter or note, too.  When I started this tradition, stamps were a whopping 4 cents.  Now they're up to 55 cents each and I don't send cards anymore.  Received cards have always been taped to the kitchen cupboard doors, giving a festive touch to a room that's difficult to decorate otherwise.  There were years when I'd run out of space, now...well, I fear Sandy's card may be pretty lonely.  As with so many things, that was then, this is now.

Christmas is coming early to Farview!  I got a text from Deb yesterday, saying that Craig was going shopping at Costco and did I need anything.  I did a quick inventory and decided there wasn't anything I couldn't do without, saving them over an hour's drive to get here.  "How about such-and-such?  Couldn't you use some of this or that?"  "Wel-l-l, maybe one or two of those."  I had an ulterior motive...I've only seen my dear ones for a half-hour this entire year.  Hey, they offered!  Regardless of the date, I'll celebrate Christmas this weekend, outside and at a distance.

Stay safe.  Be well.

It's Coming

I don't need to look at the calendar to know that winter is coming.  As with every season, Farview tells me; no surprises here.  With just that little dab of rain we had, there is a green blush to the pastures and fields already, not tall enough to do the goats much good yet, but soon enough.  I'm seeing more deer in the girls' pen.  It's always a little startling.  There's Sheila, there's Tessie...and who is that?!

The powers that be have declared some recent burn days and it looks very much like smoke signals are being sent across the hills.  I'm waiting for Cameron to come and set off my burn piles.  I hate to evict whatever birds have made homes there, but it really has to be done and it's not a job I'd ever take on on my own.  I don't move fast enough should an ember escape, and that's not a danger I'm ready to face.

The cats are prepping in their own way.  That swinging belly fat pad on both Ralph and Celeste is big enough now, bigger than I've ever seen, to hold a litter of kittens.  I know that Missy is scarfing down a full bowl of food every day, but I don't see her often enough to know if she's keeping pace.  These cats never miss a meal, but it looks like they're storing up, just in case.

I've been making do with the beanbag and jacket, but mornings are getting down to freezing and I can see putting Stove to work in the near future.  It's like some kind of challenge to see how long I can put off lighting a fire.  I know, I know...no comments from the peanut gallery, please.

Among the goodies in Cameron's contribution box, there was a packet of dry red-lentil and rice jambalaya.  I'll have to admit that after the sun goes down and the chill sets in, a hot bowl of something filling has tasted pretty darn good.

Speaking of boxes, my cats are in seventh heaven, or at least one is.  There is nothing my silly kids like better than an empty box.  Celeste, as Big Sister In Charge, immediately took possession, leaving Ralph to beg for a turn.  He gets to play house only when she comes out to go potty or get a snack.

December.  If Thanksgiving was bad, I don't even want to think about Christmas.  It will be a whole year since we were all together.  Nope, not gonna go there.

Yesterday was Pay Bills Day.  That was enough for one day...all other chores took the hindmost.

Gear up, it's coming.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Toot Toot!

Yesterday was a day of accomplishments.  In the morning I usually make a list of what needs to be done on any given day, and I consider it a good day if I can cross off one by dark.  Yesterday, I got everything on the list done, and then went over the top and did more.  How did that happen?!  Probably because I turned off the news and tuned in to some '50s-60's music...the music of my era.  I remember cruising Colorado Blvd. and learning/practicing new dance steps with girlfriends, starting with Bill Hayley and the Comets playing Rock Around The Clock.  Good times with good people.

I may try it again today.  Or not.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Drat!

As much as I hate to and as much as it goes against my grain, I'm going to have to ask for help from the computer nerds (and I mean that in a good way).  On our afternoon walk yesterday, the sun was hitting the hill across the road in a spectacular way, highlighting the golds and shades of green, and I really wanted to share that view.  I got a great shot and sent it to the computer, and that's where everything came to a screeching halt.  Ever since the last "update," I simply cannot figure out how to share a photo to the blog.  It either gets deleted or sent off to some never-neverland, never to be seen again.  It's maddening!  You'll have to take my word, it was a picture worth sharing.  This place isn't called Farview for nothing; there are daily photo-ops and I've taken literally hundreds and hundreds of shots.  I'd like to share pictures of Michael now that he's grown back his beautiful thick coat after his self-created summer butch-haircut.  Yeah, good luck with that.  Drat!

Remember once upon a time when I said I wasn't going to share a meal with Michael?  He knows me better than I know myself, and has me well trained.  Whenever I bring in a plate or bowl for a meal or snack, Michael appears from nowhere, sometimes from a deep sleep.  "What are we having today?" (emphasis on we).  "Why, yes, I do like Cheerios, and that yam is pretty tasty, too.  I'll have another bite, please."  Michael is nothing if not well mannered.  The one reject is carrots, neither cooked nor raw.  He's very polite and doesn't refuse the offer, but I find the pieces later tucked under his blanket.  Everyone to his own taste.

We are having a spell of absolutely perfect fall weather.  Remind me of this when we're in the depths of winter.

Guess what I'm hearing right now...a flock of geese just flew over, headed south for the season.  What a terrific sight.  I'd take a picture, but no.  Drat.

Stay safe.  Be well.

What's Left?

I discovered the antidote to Thursday's pity party.  What remains after a big Thanksgiving dinner?  What do you send  home with every guest?  Leftovers!  On Thursday, I would have cried in my gravy if I'd heated that TV dinner.  Yesterday, I plunked it in the microwave and hoped for the best.  Well, it was great!  It was just like having a plate of leftovers, which I would have eaten alone after Thanksgiving anyhow.  I'm not above playing tricks on my mind, especially when they have such a good outcome.  I might add that TV dinners have come a long way from those I remember from the '50s.  This one was actually delicious.

More leftovers came my way in the afternoon.  Cameron's church had held a big food drive, planning to serve those in need in the area.  Down in the valley, the news has been showing miles of cars and maybe thousands of people waiting in line for donated food, and the church wanted to help the community up here.  For whatever reason, not many showed up, and many well-packed boxes of nonperishable food were left.  Cameron and his friends were driving around, giving to those they thought could use it.  Cameron is aware of my aversion to shopping, and he thought of me.  We talked a bit while I thanked him, and he was off and away.  Omigosh, the box wasn't big, but so heavy I had to drag it into the house, packed with rice and pasta, cans of sauces, beans and soups, even canned fruit.  I hope Cameron knows that nothing will go to waste.

It was a good day.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Big Baby

I hate to admit it, but I fell into a blue funk full of the poor-pitiful-me's yesterday.  I had thought the turkey TV dinner would give some sense of the holiday, but couldn't bring myself to heat it.  It would have been a sham at best.  I took refuge in my usual way...I slept, waking up to take Michael out.  I don't plan these somnolent events, but they're my way of coping.  That's what big babies do.

If nothing else, I'm well rested today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Different

Almost 7 a.m. and here I sit at the computer.  On any other Thanksgiving in the past, the turkey, stuffed to the gills, would already be in the oven and I'd be moving on to other traditional dishes.  Three kinds of homemade cranberry sauce would have been made yesterday, and that's not counting the canned cranberry jelly that Craig always wanted.  Last year we broke the norm with KFC.  That was okay because we were all together.

This year is different.  No hugs, no kisses, no Kids, and that's because the love for each other is there.  They live out in the world and I do not, but no one is safe from the virus and none of us could bear to be the source of infection.  I had very satisfying calls from Deb and Dave yesterday.  It wasn't the same, but the sound of their voices was like touching their hands.  It will have to do.

TV dinners originated in 1953.  They were all the rage back then, and everybody had TV trays so we didn't have to miss an episode of 'The Life Of Riley' (William Bendix), Milton Berle, or 'Amos And Andy.'  I haven't had a TV dinner in decades, probably not since the '50s, but I'm having one today.  I sure wasn't going to roast a turkey just for me, but it's my nod to the holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  It will be different, but the tradition will go on.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Not One Thing

It was another beautiful morning.  Lately I've been a little wary as we walk out, wondering if the legs could make it the long way around or if we'd need to take a shortcut.  Yesterday I rejoiced, and I'm sure Michael did, too, as we made the full circuit.  We were on the home stretch when Michael wanted to make a little side trip down to the chickenless pen.  The fallen leaves are about ankle deep on the slope, but we were going slow, crunching as we went.  I'm guessing it was one of those hidden slender, twiggy bits that tripped me up and I went down for a three-point landing...two knees and a nose.  I think they call that a faceplant.  Michael was appropriately concerned at my unusual behavior.  Getting up is always a struggle these days, but I made it and we went to the house, me back to hobbling, without further delay.  The nose isn't broken, but swollen.  I look like I'd gone a round or two with Primo Carnera or Max Baer (champion boxers from the '30s).

If it's not one thing, it's another.

Stay safe.  Be well.

On The Mend

I once worked for a doctor who, when asked if he needed anything, invariably answered, "Time and a kind word."  That would be me, although I will say that I need a little more time than I used to these days.  I might add that I have appreciated the kind words, but find it funny that the word 'stubborn' seemed to work its way into every conversation.  I don't know where people get that impression; couldn't be farther from the truth, trust me.

Since I'm not quite ready to jump on a trampoline, not much got done yesterday but the essentials.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Time And Motion

I'm not going to be leaving a dust trail or set any records for speed, but given enough time, I'm at least back in motion.  Michael walks at a sedate pace, so he doesn't seem to mind that we walk in first gear (you'd have to remember stick-shift cars to get that one).  It gives him time to survey his territory, pick the best piddle spots, and bury acorns.  While he may look askance at my current hunched-over posture, he has the decency not to laugh as we creep along.  Regardless, we get the job done.  I have high hopes for today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Time Out

It was one of those days when the mind says, "Yes, you can," and the body replies, "Just try it!"  Michael got short shrift with a few brief walks because I was pretty much chair-bound.  He showed his pique last night by sleeping in the other bedroom.  Who says dogs can't communicate?   The cats were quick to take advantage of my sedentary situation by forming one furry lump in my lap for the duration.

I'm hoping a one-day time out was enough.  Things to do, and fortunately no place to go.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Not Too Bad

As far as these things go, the trip to town yesterday was not too bad.  Having put it off as long as possible, I would have had to go, regardless.  The cold snap we had caused the trees along the roads to change into their fall finery...flaming reds, polished golds, and a hundred shades of green.  Every curve and hill in the road brought another spectacular scene, and the traffic wasn't too bad, either.

Our first stop was at the far end of town, not Michael's favorite watering hole because there are no shrubs or bushes, but he made do.  He never met a post he didn't like.  To get to Wally World, we had to get on the freeway and go through P'ville to the west.  I'll never understand why P'ville bothered to put up 40 mph signs through town because no one (but me) pays attention.  I think people see the Hwy. 50 signs and take that as the speed limit, and push that, even then.

I had a bit of shopping to do at Wally World and as we cruised the aisles, I found myself humming "Star Of The Show" (Thomas Rhett, 2016).  If Michael could wave, it would be like those of the reserved Queen of England as he receives praise and accolades from his fans, young and old.  A girl with Down syndrome spent a good while gently petting and loving on him.  He was equally gentle with her.

Done with shopping at last and eager to make our getaway, I trundled the cart out to the truck, and waited while a gentleman pulled into the parking spot next to mine.  He got out of his car and said, "May I unload that for you?"  "Well, maybe just that bag of cat food, if you have time."  (Why do they keep adding 'bonus' pounds?  I'm looking for something I can lift!)  Nice Man insisted on packing everything into the truck, keeping up a humorous chatter all the while.  There are good people in the world.

One more brief stop, then it was back through the woods.  Michael understands, "Let's go home!"

All in all, for a trip to town, I can honestly say it was not too bad.

Stay safe.  Be well.

What Are You Doing?

We did, indeed, get a break yesterday and had beautiful, warm(ish) weather for our walks.  Michael, without meaning to be, is such a funny, quirky dog.  It's perfectly normal for him to stop and sniff any recent scat on the drive, be it rabbit, deer, possibly coyote, or, heaven help us, some nighttime traveling dog.  I'm used to these pauses, but lately, on the nice days, he is making a different kind of stop.  I'd see him nosing the ground, scuffling the dirt around.  "What are you doing, Michael?"  I finally realized he's burying acorns.  Is he part squirrel or a conservationist?  There are a ton of dropped acorns so our outings take a little longer now.  Being Michael, he is selective and only picks special ones to save.  Go figure.

I mentioned that I've started watching reruns of NYPD Blue.  It started in the '90s. I watched the series then and it's like seeing old friends now.  It's fun to see a very young Nicholas Turturro as a rookie detective.  He has risen through the ranks and today is a sergeant on Blue Bloods, mentoring other newbies.  Nice to see he stayed with the force.

I'm trying to get the Kids to tell me how they're going to spend Thanksgiving, thinking we could share the holiday vicariously.  Clay says he's probably going to spend the day napping, and Dave went off on a riff about fast-food restaurants.  I long for the good old days.

Stay safe.  Be well.

About Time

I'm going to blame it on Michael.  He has lousy timing, for sure.  Either that, or Nature was getting her kicks yesterday.  Every single time he asked to go out, the rain would have stopped or lessened.  Okay, jacket, hat, gloves, leash, and out we'd go.  Every single time as soon as we stepped off the porch, Nature turned on the shower and we'd get soaked.  Michael had needs, so it wasn't like we could turn around, go back in the house and wait it out.  He may have a favorite spot for the big job, but a piddle place is more like a treasure hunt.  Here?  No.  Okay, maybe over here.  No.  And it's not like one hike of the leg will do.  Michael is an equal-opportunity dog with an endless supply and he shares the wealth here, there, and everywhere.  I was running out of jackets and the living room was draped with those waiting to dry by the time he called it quits for the day.  Michael rather liked the massage he'd get with a towel when we'd come in.  For him, that was pleasure.  For me, it was a necessity.  His very thick fur holds water like a sponge and would soak carpet and his bed(s) and blankets.

From what I can see of the sky this morning, it looks like we might get a break from the rain today...or maybe it's just waiting until we go for a walk.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Snake In The Grass

Well, that was interesting.  We were on our first walk of the day and nearing Michael's favorite big-business site.  He was looking for just the right spot and I was looking for treacherous squirrel holes when a three-foot snake claimed the right of way and slithered past, headed for a patch of tall weeds.  Fortunately, I am not afraid of snakes and I'm not sure Michael even saw it.  I'd been able to see the head and will admit I was relieved that it was narrow and rounded and not diamond shaped so I knew it was not venomous.  The coloring told me it was a common garter snake, and they are welcome in my yard.  This guy (an assumption because I can't tell male from female) was close to three feet long, so I guess he's been around for a while.  It's just rare to see them.

That hellacious wind of the night died down shortly after sunrise, and it seems all trees are intact.  It wasn't even very cold.  Clouds were big and puffy until early afternoon, when they got organized and the rain began.  This was serious rain, but on the steady, gentle side, not a deluge, and very welcome.  Hopefully, it will put an end to fire season.

After dark, the fun began.  With the first soaked ground, the big, bumbling rain beetles emerged to bang against the windows.  There are a lot of them this year.  The bugs would hit the glass from the outside and Ralph nearly lost it while he would bat at them from inside.  He evidently thought we were under attack and would be our protector.

It was quite a day, start to finish.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Yesterday And Today

Yesterday was such a pleasant day.  The weather was as nice as it's been since the chill hit.  I didn't need my puffy jacket in the afternoon and even left the front door open.  Michael asked to go outside, but not for serious business.  He just wanted to lie on the front porch and soak in the sunshine.  I was happy to comply.

We made a quick trip up to Gray's Corner.  There's something about Michael that draws people to him, and thus to me.  "May I pet your dog?"  "What kind of dog is he?," etc., etc., and then they will inevitably tell me about their dog or dogs they've had.  A gentleman yesterday was close to tears as he told me about Thelma and Louise (another film reference), his long-haired doxies who had died.  We agreed that as hard as it is to lose a dog, it's harder to live without one.  Michael likes to go to Gray's corner.  Not only does he get attention, they have a nice selection of shrubbery.

And then there's today.  A howling wind blew in during the night and it's still going full bore.  No rain yet, but it's been predicted, and I believe them.  A flock of nine turkeys hung out here all day yesterday.  I doubt I'll see hide nor hair (or feather) of them today.

Ralph is such a brat.  Celeste, like Michael, like to sleep in of a morning.  Ralph, like me, gets up early.  He roams around alone in the dark for a bit, but gets bored with his own company and starts to pick on Celeste.  She wakes up cranky and a cat fight ensues.  She chases him through the house and gives him what-for, then she goes back to sleep and he starts to pester me.  And a good morning to you, too.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Update

The computer did another update this morning.  I have yet to find out what pitfalls and traps await, but I'm sure they're there, they always are.

Being Sunday, and no football games with either Steelers or Vikings, I binge-watched episodes of 'The West Wing.'  This was a series that ran from 1999 to 2006 (Martin Sheen, Rob Lowe, Allison Janney), but it could have been taken from yesterday's news, given that 'The West Wing' had Democrats in office at that time.  The corollary to my statement that change is inevitable is that 'the more things change, the more they stay the same.'  World problems twenty years ago could have been taken from today's headlines; we were fighting the same enemies then that we are now.  Missile threats were happening then, too.  There was, however, a respect and dignity that is sadly missing today.  It's an old series worth watching.

Not so long ago, Michael and I would head out the door hoping for a cool breeze on a hot day.  Now we both look for patches of sunlight to warm us, and I don't take a breather at the picnic table in the shade.  Today's chore will be to bring more firewood to the porch.  Stove always reminds me of the voracious flower in 'Little Shop Of Horrors' (1986, Rick Moranis, Ellen Greene, Steve Martin), bellowing, "FEED ME!"  Everything at Farview demands to be fed.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Adapting

Michael is having as much trouble adapting to the time change as I am.  He seems to run on clock time rather than the position of the sun.  We go out several times a day, but now he asks to go out after dark, too.  I don't do well walking in the dark, so he's limited to the area where the porch light reaches.  It's also pretty darned cold, so we don't stay out long.  He seems to be okay with that, thank goodness.

The virus is causing all kinds of lifestyle changes.  I'm not looking forward to the holidays this year.  All family gatherings have been postponed for the duration.  I'm trying to decide whether to go down to town for KFC for a reprise of last Thanksgiving, or to get a TV dinner and save myself the trip.  Porch visits, rare as they are, have become the new norm, but when the real rainy weather gets here, those will also come to an end.

I've said for years that the only thing we can count on is change.  It's up to us to accept and adapt.  I'm trying.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Freaky Friday

(Freaky Friday, 2003, Jamie Lee Curtis, Lindsay Lohan.)  I'd rather use 'Freaky Friday' instead of 'Friday the Thirteenth' as a reference film because nothing gory happened yesterday, it was just weird.

I was going about my morning computer routine:  write the blog, check FB, play a few games of solitaire until it's light out.  I'd just posted yesterday's entry and was moving on when, blink!, the power went out.  Oh great.  With trusty flashlight in hand, I went to call PG&E.  "We are aware of your outage and power has been restored."  Umm, no.  I called back and worked my way through the robo-buttons until I was connected to a real live person.  The nice lady gave me the same info and I assured her that I was still sitting in the dark.  "Hmm, let me check a little further."  She was a little embarrassed when she came back and told me that 718 houses were affected (in the dark) and that the problem should be fixed in about 3 hours.  That put the kibosh on whatever plans I might have had for the morning.

Cat on lap, we watched the sun struggle to rise behind a bank of black clouds over the mountains in the east.  About the time power was restored, we gained full sunshine.  Then Nature pulled her routine and moved the clouds overhead and a cold, drizzly rain began.  Michael needed his walk, regardless, so we went out.  We didn't stay out long.  I brought in firewood and put Stove to work.

Oh well, what did I expect on Friday the 13th?

Stay safe.  Be well.

Pity

I feel very sorry for the next people to live at Farview Farm if they have not used a wood stove.  It's not like flipping a switch or turning a dial, and it's not like a fireplace.  It takes planning and time.  For starters, there are two doors.  The one in front has a glass insert; that's to watch the fire and to reach in to get the creosote out of the cold chimney after a sweep.  It's too small to insert wood.  That's for the second door on the side, easy peasy, given the logs are the right length and chunks are not too big, and to shovel out the ashes.  There are two vents on the side, both of which must be opened before starting a fire.  The bottom one stays open, but the top one gets closed when the blaze is going, don't forget or there's the possibility of a chimney fire...not good!  If Stove is cranky and slow to light, there's a little door in front for a tray for ashes that fall through the grate that will darn near guarantee to get him started.  Don't leave that one open, either.  There is a little knob on the side to adjust the blaze.  I got it set after some trial and error and have never needed to turn it again.

I find that a few pieces of kindling on the bottom, then maybe a piece or two of pine if I have any, topped with three oak logs is the recipe for success.  An all-pine fire will build up creosote faster than you can say Jack Robinson.  Then comes the waiting.  Don't leave the room.  There is a magnetic temperature gauge on the chimney that must be watched.  It needs to get up to 300-degrees (takes awhile), but never go over 600.  Six hundred is the danger level and calls for an immediate shutdown.  Three hundred, great, then shut the top vent and you're good to go about the business of the day or are set for the evening...or until you need to add more wood.  If more wood is needed, be sure to open the top side vent again before opening the door, then shut it when the deed is done.  Very important.

Yes, I pity the newcomers to wood-stove heat.  It's a process.  When I finish on the computer this morning, I will spend a little time heating the living room again.  It's another cold day.  (Yes, sometimes I dream of thermostats.)

Stay safe.  Be well.

Supervisors

The cats are in charge.  They make sure I get my morning workout...every single day!  As I've said, by some cat magic Ralph and Celeste become 50-lb, immovable objects when they come to bed.  I sleep on my right side and both felines curl up in the curve behind my knees.  Michael is over on his pillow.  None of us moves during the night, that's the agreement, the pact, and it works.  The thing is, I wake up before any of the others.  Just turning over is hard enough because those two furry boulders will not move!  The contortions I have to go through to get my legs out from the covers would make a saint cuss.  Yelling doesn't help...I've tried that.  No, I struggle my way out with my knees to my chin, and end up laughing.  My supervisors make sure I get my exercise and start every day with a smile.  Once I'm up and at the computer, their work is done and they both go out to the kitchen for breakfast.  Aaargh!

Stay safe.  Be well.

More Of The Same

It's cold, just about the same as yesterday.  I'm slurping down my coffee in the hope of drinking the mug before it gets cool.  Hot coffee on a cold dark morning is my way to start the day.  Not much I can do for frigid fingers.  When I get out of bed, Michael moves over to my spot, I'm guessing to get whatever residual warmth I might have left.  He is not a snuggler like the cats.

It's getting to be a regular sight these days.  Another deer in/by the chickenless pen yesterday.  This was a forked-horn nonchalantly strolling, stopped to check us out, and then did that sort of rabbit-hop bounding thing when he left.  Michael just takes it in stride.

He does get minimally excited on trash day.  He knows he's going for a ride.  I don't know why he reacts this way because he never rides up front.  As soon as he's in the truck, he gets behind the seats and lies down.  Every other dog I've had wanted to sit up front and see what's going on.  Not Michael.

Since I go grocery shopping only once or twice a month, I buy as many fresh vegetables as I think I can eat before they wilt or go bad.  I get so hungry for vegetables.  Last night's dinner was homemade egg foo young...nummy, and there's always enough for two meals.  There's an eggplant waiting for next time.  I never fix eggplant without thinking of my son-in-law, Craig.  He also loves them.  My daughter absolutely hates the purple globes, but it's a sign of her devotion that she fixes them for her husband.  (I don't know what she eats on those nights, but it sure ain't eggplant!)

I did not light Stove yesterday, but made do with a cozy lap robe, the heated beanbag, and two cats.  The problem is that when I get warm, I fall asleep.  Thank goodness for the DVR so I can go back and check on what I missed.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Another Day

Well, heck!  I took a photo of last evening's most beautiful sunset to share, but the computer gods won't let me.  I hate it when they take a process that had been so easy and make it impossible.  Take my word for it, the sky was stunning.

We're up to almost 30 outside this morning and a balmy 48 in the house.  That's because I broke down and lit a fire yesterday.  I knew I had to when I could no longer feel my face or fingers.  One of my sons chastised me soundly in a text when I mentioned that I was thinking about putting Stove back in service, but didn't want to deplete the woodpile.  "Light the blankety-blank fire, Mom!"  Given such orders, I'm gonna do it again today.

I'm still getting used to the new/old Standard Time.  Six o'clock and it's already starting to get light outside.  That's not the problem, it's that it also gets dark about six.  Michael also has trouble with that one because he's ready for his last walk of the day about that time.  His needs are a little more urgent than mine.

Michael is, if you haven't guessed, one of the best dogs ever, but one thing he is not is a guard dog.  If I'm not paying attention, the only way he tells me something is going on is to watch him constantly.  Yesterday we were on one of our walks when his ears pricked up and he focused on the chicken(less) pen.  I followed his stare and sure enough, a buck casually walked out of the pen.  He might have been looking for some leftover chicken feed, or perhaps was just curious.  At any rate, we stood and gave him time to make his getaway.

Today's chores will include going around and turning off the water to some of the outlying pipes.  Should have done it sooner, but never anticipated freezing weather this early in the year.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Oh Hail!

Yesterday's weather ran the gamut, well, all except heat.  It was sunny for a short bit before rain clouds rolled in, and then all hail broke loose.  There were even a few flurries of snow, enough that there were some leftover patches when Michael and I took a brisk morning walk.  He's wearing his thick winter coat, but I had to pull out the gloves and hat with ear flaps.  The sun did come out for our later walks, but the east wind did not encourage dawdling.  In the evening, I had my first cup of hot cider of the season.  Just holding the mug was warming.

It was a pretty good preview of what was coming.  It's 25 outside this morning, and a steamy 43 in the house.  My hot coffee was barely warm by the time I brought it from the kitchen to the bedroom.  Ralph has decided my lap is the warmest place to be, leaving Celeste to fend for herself in the cold.

Stove is looking better and better.  Wood conservation is one thing, frostbite is another.

Stay safe.  Be well.

What She Said

Emmy commented yesterday that happy days are here again.  That was one of FDR's campaign songs.  He served four terms in office and that led to the 22nd Amendment that limits a president to only two terms by law.  I know I'm happy that the stress of waiting for election results is over.  What a relief!  I have valued friends on both sides of the political fence, some with whom we discuss politics and some with whom the subject is never broached.  I respect their opinions.  Regardless, we all had to be glad to see Americans dancing in the streets...it's been a long time since there have been laughing and singing crowds instead of protest marches and the need for police presence.

Michael and I went on five or six walks during the day.  It was good to be out in the sunshine instead of glued to the television.  I even went grocery shopping 'up the road a piece,' as we say.  The good mood was contagious.  Even with masks in place (and I saw few to none without one for a change), customers were smiling and chatting.

What Emmy said, "Happy days are here again."

A pretty hefty storm blew in overnight.  It's calm now, but still too dark to see if there was rain.  Changing times.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Changes

Nature pulled one of her quick-change tricks again.  Temps had been in the low 80s-high 70s for quite awhile...nice fall weather.  Yesterday morning while it was still dark, I heard a pretty good wind blowing and robe and slippers felt good.  When it was light enough, I saw the deck was wet (I knew I should have blown off all those leaves last week).  It turned out to be the warning shot over the bow, as it never did truly rain...just a heavy mist sort of day.  The real stuff is due today or tomorrow, and they're saying it could snow as low as Pollock Pines.  I looked at Stove, but decided just to keep my puffy jacket on and maybe heat up the bean bag.  Celeste did her part as a lap warmer.  Stove will be called to duty soon enough.

Watching daily election results has been exhausting.  My sleep patterns have been thrown completely out of whack and I hardly know whether I'm coming or going.  I've participated in every presidential election since I turned 21, the legal coming of age back in the day.  I've voted for, and I've voted against, and we woke up the next day and went on with our lives.  This time is different.  This time is scary.  Riots, shootings, threats, lies.  It's politics, for crying out loud!  We are a democracy!  We are Americans!  We need to act like it.

Morning and evening, the deer are on the move.  It's rut season and the bucks are strutting their stuff, following the does or even the scent of the females.  I've seen forked horns, three-pointers, and one grand fellow with a full rack.  When the wire gate to the hay barn was breached, I knew that some had decided to help themselves to the alfalfa.  Gotta keep up their strength, ya know.

Politics, weather, whatever comes next, have me thinking about the Bette Davis line in All About Eve (1950), "Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy night."

Stay safe.  Be well.

Manna

Michael is a dog of discerning taste, especially when it comes to treats.  There are at least five different kinds of treats in the kitchen, one of which will stay there, stamped Reject.  Every dog I've ever known in the past was happy to take whatever was offered, no questions asked.  Michael, not s'much.  First comes the sniff test.  "Hmmm, that has possibilities.  We'll see."  Michael has impeccable manners, gently taking the offering from my fingers.  He's not a snatch-and-grab kind of guy.  If the tidbit meets his high standards, he'll lie down to eat it right then and there.  (He also lies down to eat a meal from his bowl.  Go figure.)  Failing the first test, I get, "Um, no.  I don't think so."  If urged, he will politely take it and then poot! he spits it out.  I made the mistake yesterday of not paying attention.  My mind was elsewhere when I gave him what I thought was a goodie.  It's still on the floor by the door this morning.  Maybe some wandering minstrel dog will come by and think that bag is manna from heaven.  Or not.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Breathe

I was no more capable of writing a coherent sentence yesterday than I could fly without wings.  Time has restored a little of my equilibrium.  We have no choice but to go on, so might as well get on with it.

As Michael and I were on our morning walk, headed for the garden area, a doe had the same destination in mind.  We must have been downwind from her because we saw her before she was aware of us.  There was that special moment when we all stopped and just looked at each other.  I love living here.

Missy must be gearing up for winter.  It usually takes her a couple of days to empty her food dish, but lately it's a one-day meal.  I put a nice bed out on the deck for her, but have never seen a sign that she's ever used it.  Funny little girl.  Michael and I see her out and about in the yard, usually in the afternoon.  She has no fear whatsoever of the dog, and Michael might just hum a few bars as he watches her (about as vocal as he gets).

The weather guys have been saying there's the possibility of rain in the next couple of days, and wouldn't that be welcome?

I really must reset the clocks.  Getting up at what turned out to be 3 a.m. is ridiculous, even for me.  It's going to be a long day.

Breathe, just breathe.  This, too, shall pass.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Waiting

In limbo.  On tenterhooks.  Holding my breath.  Fingers (eyes and toes) crossed.  Words are rocketing around in my head and I'm speechless.

God save America.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Transition

Change is inevitable.  It's up to us to try to keep up and cope the best we can.  I was fortunate yesterday to have a friend who allowed me to rant and rave (she did a little of that on her own) regarding the current political situation.  We had done our bit by voting, but there's naught we can do about the outcome, so....

After all these years (over 35), Steve's extensive family has become my own, and they and I reach out now and then to keep in touch.  Yesterday's news regarding one of the cousins wasn't so good, in fact it was downright dire.  I've not seen her for years and years, but I'll hold on to the memory of a chubby, laughing woman who was a nonstop talker.  She could talk the leg off a table, and never an unkind word ever.  She will be sorely missed by her family when her troubles are ended.

It was full daylight when I awoke this morning.  After my evening nap in the chair, I'd awakened to a late-night PBS special with music from the '50s...my coming-of-age era, and I watched and listened until the end.  I remembered cruising Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena, CA, with the radio playing, and practicing new dance steps with roommates at school.  The beat was steady and the words were clear.  Ah yes, things change.

Unlike days of yore when we would sit up all night to learn the outcome of an election, we probably won't know for awhile what our fate will be from today's vote, but...we'll cope.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Back In The Day

One thing about getting older and not much is happening in your life, there are plenty of file drawers in your mind to open and pull out a memory or two.  On one of my many cooking shows, the chef recently made a batch of beignets.  Oh gosh, the memories those brought back.  Once upon a time and what now seems long. long ago, we had company...lots of company, and they stayed for days.  Upstairs and down, this house would sleep 17 people, and in case there was overflow, there were air mattresses to pull out.  I'm not a breakfast eater, but, oh man, I could make breakfast for a crowd.  You can't make just a few beignets and they are only good when fresh and hot, but they sure are nummy and a crowd pleaser!  I developed a recipe for baked French toast, sprinkled with dried cranberries; a lot easier than standing and frying each order, and just as crispy and browned.  I had a lot of producing chickens then and had a seemingly endless supply of eggs.  I never minded being a short-order cook in case of stragglers.  Everyone was on their own for lunch as I was busy with the animals and planning dinner.  We played games, everything from poker to Parcheesi.  There are cabinets downstairs jampacked with board games, now long unused.

A number of those dear friends are long gone now, but I can see their faces just as clearly as I can taste the beignets.  That was a good memory drawer to open.

Stay safe.  Be well.

What A Way To Start The Day

I awoke in the wee dark hours of the morning to the faint beep and sigh of the electricity shutting down.  Yes, again.  What had we done to offend the power gods this time?  With no clock, no telling what time it was.  I went back to sleep.  With last night's huge, bright Harvest Moon, it was hard to tell if it was still moonlight or a rising sun (turned out to be the sun) when I woke up for real, thanks to the time change.  It evidently was a pole down or a blown transformer because they'd fixed it in about four hours.  I get a satirical kick out of the mechanical voice at PG&E:  "You may contact us at www.etc., and your wireless phone will not work during an outage."  Duh.  If I don't have electricity, I can't use the computer, and if I didn't have a landline, I wouldn't be calling.  I got the last laugh because I hadn't yet reset the clocks!

Michael and I made a trip to town yesterday.  I had several stops planned, but derailed for something I rarely to never do.  We stopped for a fish-and-chips lunch that took much longer than I'd thought.  The gentleman behind the counter was evidently the clerk, cook, and bottle-washer, ie, the only one there.  Michael likes fish.  It took hours to get the feel of grease out of my mouth, so it will probably be a long time before we do that again.

On our way out yesterday, I stopped to drop off my ballot.  Turned out I was just the second voter that day.  However, I was told that our little community has one of the highest numbers per capita in the county.  Others were coming in as we were leaving.  El Dorado is politically active!

It being Hallowe'en, I bought a bag of candy at one of our stops.  Not for trick-or-treaters (we've never had any), but for me.  I OD'd, and that was dinner.  Back on track today.

It being November first, ordinarily I'd start planning for Thanksgiving dinner.  Not this year.  Fingers crossed for 2021.

Stay safe.  Be well.