Herbalicious

Think Simon and Garfunkle's "Scarborough Fair" (1966). "Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme" immediately popped into my head on our first walk of the day and I saw the now-enormous rosemary bush in full bloom.  It's hard to remember when this was a sprig in a two-inch pot to be planted in the front garden.

Oh, I had such plans.  I fairly haunted the few local nurseries looking for different herbs.  At one time there were a couple of varieties of (you guessed it) thyme, marjoram, betony...I can't even remember now how many different herbs there were.  I bought books on growing and using these kitchen staples.  There is sage down in the back yard, but I don't go there much anymore.  It also has a lovely purple flower.  Over time the deer laid waste to the herb garden, and what they didn't eat, drought years decimated.  All that is left now is the rosemary bush, some straggly marjoram plants, and what has to be called pitiful, persistent thyme.  Oh well.

Mike came by yesterday to replace a couple of defective boards on the deck.  It's a good thing he came when he did because rain is predicted for tonight, and that is also a good thing.  This month was the driest February in history up here.  We need the water.

Control Issues

The thing about self-control is, you have to have some for it to do any good...and I have little to none.  Two days of snacking and the brie is gone.  Three meals and the tub of potato salad (I forgot to mention the potato and red onion salad) is empty, and a big hunk is gone from the Princess Cake.  What can I say?  I can claim a modicum of restraint because I have yet to open the packet of pate, only because I know that when I do it will go the way of the brie and then I won't have it to look forward to.  Gosh darn, everything was so good!

The other day I watched "Waterloo Bridge" again for the umpteenth time.  I guess it falls in the 'chick flick' category.  This version was made in 1940 (the original was made in 1931), and was Vivien Leigh's first film after "Gone With The Wind."  Robert Taylor played a rather hokey WWI soldier, Leigh's love interest.  Small but grand parts were filled by character actors C. Aubrey Smith and Maria Ouspenskaya, two of my favorites.

Speaking of control, my remote is always close at hand.  The two most used buttons are the mute and the fast forward.  They save me a lot of time and irritation during the ever-present commercials.

Arden has been found.  There was evidently some confusion as to which day we were to get together.

Maybe if I stay out of the kitchen I'll be able to resist the pate.  Or not.

A New Face

George isn't really a new face as I've known him for years, but he's not been here before so he's a new and most welcome face at Farview...and he brought goodies!  A whole basket of treats included brie cheese and pate (two of my favorite decadent guilty pleasures), a baguette to go with, and a Princess Cake.  I've seen Princess Cake made on cooking shows, but never thought to have one.  Layers of sponge cake spread with raspberry jam, filled with vanilla cream, and covered with marzipan.  It's like eating a cloud and I'm gaining weight just thinking about it.

I was happy to introduce George to Camille when she arrived (I don't know what happened to Arden).  Both of my friends are good conversationalists and we had a lively discussion.  I'm not ashamed to say I selfishly did not offer to share any of George's bounty.  That stuff doesn't come my way often, hostess or no.

After George left for home, Cam and I watched the rather rowdy debate.  We're pretty much in agreement on who we're for, and definitely who we're against.

It was a good day.

Travelers

I've been hearing honkers in ones and twos for maybe a week now.  Yesterday was at least a part of the great goose migration back to the north.  The air was filled with their communication, not honking, but a constant wheeting as the mass of birds stayed in contact high in the sky.  It may be warm here in California, I hope they're as lucky when they get where they're going.

Michael and I also traveled.  It was our semi-monthly trip to town.  Going with Michael makes it almost pleasant.  He makes people smile, and many stop to talk to him (and me).  It makes me feel less curmudgeonly.  Most of the traffic was coming from the opposite direction, and I'd timed it so as to avoid the strobe effect of sunlight through the trees.  Plum and apple trees were in lacy bloom along the road.  Our trip could have been worse.

I guess you could say I took a pre-nap nap this morning, not waking until the sun was up.  In a way, that's a good thing because the ladies are coming over this afternoon to watch the South Carolina debate.  I'm so conditioned to napping that I dozed off briefly the last time they were here.  That will not get me the Good Hostess award.

Re-markable

It's a good thing that yesterday was a lovely day.  Our walks took twice as long every single time because Michael had to mark, mark, and re-mark every single spot Tiny had been, had thought of going, or might go in the future.  I'm sure he depleted his reservoir.  For good measure, he kicked dirt over most of the spots.  I'd always thought dogs did that to cover their scent.  Turns out they do it to "spread the word" about dominion.  This is not a good photo, but it was hard to get a better shot because Tiny was always on the move, and Michael was busy following along and re-marking, just in case Dinky Dog got ideas bigger than himself.

Michael hasn't got an aggressive bone in his body, but that doesn't mean he's not top dog at Farview.

Lumpy Potatoes

Mike, his friend Leonard, and Dinky Dog (named Tiny for the most obvious reason) arrived early and the guys went right to work on Truck.  Tiny also went to work.  He is so low to the ground that I hadn't seen that he is a boy dog before, but when he hiked a leg to piddle I saw my error.  There is a term for the competition that Michael and Tiny entered, each one trying to out-piddle the other.  It's a boy thing.  Mike hit a snag when he realized he'd bought the wrong oil filter and he sent Leonard off to get the right one.  It being Sunday, Leonard had to go several places to find an open store with the right filter.  Mike kept working, but I could tell he was getting antsy.

In the meantime, I went in to watch a Martha Stewart rerun while waiting for NASCAR to start.  In the current vernacular, OMG!  You never saw such a production on how to make mashed potatoes, of all things, passing the steamed (not boiled) potatoes through a series of graded sieves because, lord knows, any sign of a lump is not acceptable.  She stressed that one should never, ever, use a food processor or even an electric mixer.

Money was scarce in the '60s when my four Kids were little.  It was actually cheaper to buy a box of the then-new instant mashed potatoes than to get the real deal.  At least they got the potatoes, sort of.  The point of this tale is that my Kids were thrilled when they were served less than pureed, lumpy mashed potatoes.  Those spuds came out of the ground, not a box.  Take that, Martha.

Truck was up and running and the guys took off.  Michael darn near dehydrated himself re-marking everywhere Tiny had been.  There would be no mistaking whose property this was, Michael made sure of that.

Safety First

Mike and a friend came with the needed part for Truck and installed it.  Whew!  Then, while he was under the hood, he started really looking at the engine.  "When was the last time you had this checked?  When was the last time you filled this or that fluid?  When did you...and on and on."  To my chagrin, the answer to everything was, "Probably never."  (Okay, never.)  Because I leave home so seldom and drive so few miles, Truck gets an oil change once a year, well within the recommended limit.  Truck never complains and keeps on truckin'.  He always passes his smog tests.  It would never occur to me to lift the hood because I wouldn't know what I was looking at in the first place.  I guess I go by the adage 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it.'

Mike was horrified.  "Okay.  I'm going to go to the parts store and I'm going to get this, that, and the other thing, and I'm going to fix this!"  Oh goody.  All I could see was a dwindling bank account.  The thing is, I'm smart enough to know that safety comes first and I can't afford to get stuck on the side of the road somewhere in No Man's Land if Truck broke down for lack of care.  It was bad enough to get stuck here at home.  "Okay, Mike.  Go for it," and waved goodbye to some up-front money.

Mike's friend had brought his dog along, the teeniest tiny full-grown dog I've ever seen, perky as all get out and full of herself.  I've got stuffed toys bigger than she.  Michael took one look at her and said, "Phfft.  Not even worth a sniff greeting," and took the opportunity to take off down the drive.  Sigh.

Bright Spot

I didn't have to look hard for this bright spot yesterday.  The daffodils, replanted by the squirrels, fairly burst out of the ground in full bloom on the north slope.

They were close to the only bright spot on an otherwise discouraging day.  In the morning, I wanted to keep up the momentum on housework and then tended to some outdoor chores that had been giving me the stink-eye for being neglected.  Michael got a couple of laps on the driveway track.  So far, so good.  The goats had had their last licks on the salt block, so about three I decided to take Michael for a jaunt and go down to Mt. Aukum and get another.  Goats do like and need their salt.

That's when the hammer of doom came down.  Michael gets excited (I can tell because he dances) when I get my purse, keys, and his leash.  "Yes, we're going to the cookie store.  Load up!"  Turn the key for ignition.  Rrrrr, rrrrr, nothing.  Again.  Nothing.  Dead battery?  "Come on, Michael, get out now."  "But we didn't go anywhere!"  The local auto shop closed in an hour and is not open on weekends.  Okay, call Triple A.  "The truck will be there in 75 minutes."  "Not to worry.  I'm not going anywhere."

Might as well get a start on the deck stuff while waiting (yes, I'd been procrastinating again).  I managed to get a heavy wrought-iron plant stand up the steps and was moving it into position when I noticed that one of the new boards had splintered.  Oh crum (or something like that).  I put in a text to Mike and went in the house to sulk.  Mike said he'd be here after work.

Tow-Truck Guy showed up, and I left him alone to do whatever it was that needed doing.  The trouble was that nothing worked.  Rrrr, rrrr, and no engine action.  I'll give him credit, he tried everything he could think of.  Just about then, Mike arrived.  Show me a guy who sees an open truck hood and I'll show you a guy who has to stick his head in there.  And what a good thing it was he did.  TTG got in the cab and turned the key while Mike watched the engine.  "STOP!"  Turned out to be a broken spark plug wire that was throwing out a shower of sparks every time.  I'm sure I blanched when I thought how easily there could have been an engine fire that would have destroyed Truck.  Mike said he could replace the wiring today, saving a tow and who knows how many days without a vehicle.  TTG packed up his stuff and left.

I showed Mike the damage to the deck, another thing for his To-Do list.

Mike left and I went in the house, closed the door, and sat down to contemplate the turn of events.  I'm glad there was one bright spot to look back on.

Debatable

We are an eclectic group, we Fair Play ladies, and it makes for some interesting conversation.  We are diverse in religion, politics, and life experience, pretty much covering all of the bases.  I spent most of the morning spiffing up the house in readiness for a "meeting."  Camille doesn't own a television and Arden's is out of commission, but we all wanted to watch the Nevada debate that I had recorded from the night before.  It was, to say the least, lively.  We're none of us adverse to yelling at the TV.

It is well known in this circle of friends that my house is cold.  I'm so used to it that I didn't even wear a jacket as I passed out a lap robe (Cam brought her own), tea and coffee.  Michael was his usual hospitable self, finally curling up next to Camille on the couch.  Nothing like a cloud-soft dog to keep a lady warm.

Having dusted yesterday, that leaves today free to get stuff back on the deck.  How much I'll get done is debatable.

Knock, Knock

Plonk.  Thump.  Crash.  Ralph is at it again.  He's very adept at pushing things off shelves and tables or simply knocking stuff over.  He was doing it right in front of me in the kitchen this morning while I was waiting on the coffeemaker to do its thing.  Today it was a fork on the counter.  Leave a pencil on the table and you'll find it on the floor.  Rolly things are best, but it really doesn't matter.  A piece of paper will do.  Either Celeste doesn't have the same urges or she is good at pointing a paw at Ralph as the culprit.  The consensus seems to be that cats do it just for the fun of it.  When I say I'm picking up after Ralph, that's exactly what I'm doing.  One of us is having a good time.

There is a current meme that says, "If the earth were flat, cats would have pushed everything off by now."  Too true, and his name is Ralph.

Devil Or Angel

("Devil Or Angel," song by The Clovers, 1956.)

Michael is, as the old Ivory soap ad said, 99.44 pure angel.  I took this picture yesterday just because of the intelligence beaming in his eyes.  I was telling him, as I do every day, how handsome, funny, smart, soft, and good he is.  You can tell he is in full agreement.

Maybe he is too smart for his own good.  There is that .56 percent that says Michael is his own man.  We went for the last walk of the day just before taking the trash to the big road.  My plan was to put him in the house while I loaded the truck and then we'd go for a ride.  Yeah, well.  I slipped off his leash so he could make his dash for the porch.  He took off like a shot, veered to the right, and said, "Buh-bye!"  "Michael, don't you do it!  Come back here right now!"  Michael said, "Lalala, I can't hear you," as he headed down the driveway.  I didn't have time for this, so I went down to the road alone.

He must have heard the truck drive off, because he was waiting for me at the top of the drive when I got back.  I'm sure he thought I''d never leave without him.  Roll down the window and bellow, "Michael, go to the house NOW!"  That little devil tucked tail and raced to the porch of what was now the doghouse.  He's certainly not used to being chastised, and I'm not used to yelling at him.  We're back to being best buddies now.

Too Early

It's only February, way too early for the enthusiastic almond tree to burst into bloom, but there it is.  Mistletoe is a plague up here.  It's everywhere on the oaks.  The tree in the photo is on my neighbors' property, but there is one by my driveway that is just as burdened.  That's the one where the vultures sun themselves when they're not on the posts around the goat pen.  Oh!  I forgot to mention that the other morning as I was finishing up on the computer I caught movement out on the deck rail.  Not too unusual, the turkeys really are peeping toms.  This time, however, it was a vulture!  Right outside my bedroom window.  That's not something you see every day.

Florence and Dan came over, laden with goodies from George (I ate well last night).  Their mission was to pick up the last of the leftover lumber from the deck job.  Michael was overjoyed to see them.  I fear his happiness has a hidden agenda, though.  Yes, he's very glad to greet his friends, but he knows he'll be off leash and he takes the opportunity to make a trip down the the road as he did yesterday...twice.  As Florence told him, "Put your tongue back in your panting mouth, it's a dead giveaway," on his return.  It was nice to spend time with my longtime friends, sitting on the porch in the warm sunshine.

Pick It Up

Putting something, anything, down where it doesn't belong in the first place is a big mistake for me.  Walking past it, whatever it might be, I'll think, "Oh, I need to put that away," but obviously I'm on my way to do something else and forbid the thought I should be distracted.  By the time I go past again, I hardly give it a thought, and the by the next or umpteenth time I don't even see it.  If I put it there, it must belong there.

I'm in the process of trying to declutter.  It's not easy and certainly not fast.  Pick up that empty envelope and throw it away, sounds simple, right?  Wait!  I might have grabbed that convenient paper to write a phone number down.  Yes, there's a number.  But whose?  These things take time, and it's just easier to put the envelope down where it was while I try to figure it out.  And so on.

Michael and I are picking up the pace on our walks, not because of cold or wind, but just for the exercise.  He doesn't get the chance to run free anymore due to his proclivity toward wandering on the road.  He seems content to stay by my side, but I know he needs to go faster.  He does get to sprint on the last leg of our journey up to the porch, and he wins every time.  Ta da!

The crows are back on duty this morning.

Time

As sometimes happens, I was flipping channels and ran across Antiques Roadshow.  "Oh, I have one of those," or, "I wish I had one of those!"  Some of those dusty hidden treasures are incalculably valuable.  An item that caught my eye was a stereoscope.  When I was a little girl, we would visit my formidable Great-aunt Kate in Pomona.  I was thoroughly briefed on best behavior (every time).  After Great-aunt Kate (in my mind, that was all one word) was convinced I wasn't one of those kids, she allowed me to pick up a gorgeous conch shell to listen to the ocean, and let me look through her stereoscope.  I wonder how many now even know what a stereoscope is.  It was a piece of wooden equipment in which two identical photographs were placed side by side and produced what would now be called a 3D effect.  Don't ask me how it was done, I have no idea, but it was marvelous at the time.  Much later, when I had kids of my own, they came out with a small but similar "toy" called a View Master.  All TVs were black-and-white then, and my children were as fascinated by 3D as I had been.  Now, even the View Masters are antiques.  Time flies.

Evidently Nature gives the crows Sunday off.  I've been noting that the crows have the early shift, sounding off loudly like an alarm clock at first light (Wake up!  Get up!), then the turkeys take the evening duty, speaking in low tones when it's time (their time) to go to sleep at dusk.  This morning it was Team Turkey that gave the wake-up call and the crows were silent.  Ours is not to wonder why...but I do.

See Something, Say Something

Obviously, my coffee had not yet kicked in yesterday because there was/is a glaring error in the first sentence.  I have left it as is for illustration (I could edit it and you'd never know), and it is said that confession is good for the soul.  I meant to give tribute to the old-time comedy team of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, but the brain slipped a cog and it came out "Oliver and Hardy."  Not a good way to start the day (but the spelling was correct).

It was Arden Friday.  What to serve?  What to serve?  I haven't made bread in eons.  Back in the day, I made bread of all kinds, even developing homemade sourdough yeast.  I made bread by hand for years.  Kneading dough is very therapeutic, and good exercise.  I wasn't sure what to expect when I bought a bread machine years later, but found it's another servant who works quickly and takes very little effort on my part, right up there with the dishwasher and the washing machine.

With next to nothing in the house and knowing Arden does little-to-no cooking these days, maybe a loaf of warm bread might suffice.  I dragged the machine out of retirement and stood there trying to decide what kind of bread to make.  Cheese bread is good, but I had no cheese.  Same with olives.  Checking the recipe, I found I did have all the ingredients for pumpernickel, one of my favorites.  It would have to do.  Even with the bread maker, pumpernickel takes a bit of doing because there so many little this's and that's that go into the dough.  Handy hint for the day:  spray the cup with vegetable spray before measuring molasses and the syrup will just pour out.

With the machine whirring, I went in to catch up on dusting.  Arden is pre-punctual (she comes early).  If an error in the blog is noted, say something.  If you see dust in my house, say nothing.  The bread went over big-time.

Leave 'Em Laughing

Leave 'Em Laughing (Oliver and Hardy, 1928 silent film).

The trip to town wasn't too bad, due in part, I'm sure, to Michael's calming effect.  He was his usual polite, personable self, charming men, women, and children alike as we traversed the aisles.  I swear he thrives on the attention.

I did something I rarely do (and I mean rarely),  After shopping, I went across the road from Wally World to a Chinese restaurant.  I'd gotten a craving for Beef Chow Fun and as common a dish as it is, not a lot of restaurants in the area make it up here.  More years ago than I'd care to count, I worked for a full-blooded Chinese gentleman from Thailand, and with his employees from Cambodia, Laos, and Hong Kong.  It wasn't uncommon for the boss to send me out to a little hole-in-the-wall place in Sacramento to pick up lunch, always Beef Chow Fun:  stir fried thin-sliced beef, wide rice noodles (think tagliatelle), bean sprouts, and scallions in a savory sauce.  Yum.  I picked up my order to go, and Michael and I did not dawdle on the way home, almost drooling from the aroma.

PG&E finally called and I'm to have a meeting with a supervisor at some point.

I have said that Michael likes a routine.  Evidently sitting on me at bedtime has been added to his repertoire.  It cracks me up every night.  When you're left laughing in the dark before going to sleep, it pretty much assures happy dreams.

Guests

The girls, Sheila and Tessie, had company over for a meal yesterday.  When I saw movement in the south pasture, my first thought was that there must be a break in the fence and Sheila was going walkabout.  No, there's Sheila in the shade of the oak in the pen...and there's Tessie.  Then, boop...boop, two more deer said their goodbyes and jumped the fence to go home.  As more and more people move into the area, there is less and less free territory for the wildlife.  It was not unusual twenty years ago to have large herds of deer grazing on my property.  Now it's rare to see as many as these three at one time.  Steve's family were/are avid hunters, but we made a pact when we moved here not to kill anything on Farview.  I never put out food for the critters, but they could help themselves and say thanks by keeping the weeds down.

Locals on FB are posting frequent sightings of mountain lions lately.  I'm not sure that I'd be as welcoming if one of the big cats showed up here for dinner.  I can only imagine what would be on the menu.  The bear that was right outside Tinka's kitchen window not long ago evidently found slim pickings and has not, to my knowledge, returned.  Moonlight or no, I just don't go out after dark anymore.

PG&E guy did not call as he said he would.  Rats.  I wasted the day (so?) waiting for him, which means the postponed trip to town is mandatory today.  Ah, well, Michael will be pleased.

Silvery Moon

"By The Light Of The Silvery Moon" (song written in 1909, recorded by many).

The current super Snow Moon is a doozie.  It isn't really dark when I wake up in the dark because of the moonshine (and I'm not talking liquor here).  It first appeared on February 5, and it still lights the night sky a week later.  Watching the full moon rise behind the pines on the hill across the road is an experience.

There appears to be some confusion.  I got a call from PG&E yesterday.  The gentleman said they had inspected our road and needed to cut down one of my trees, fearing it might fall on one of their power lines if it dropped.  I won't like it, but I won't fight it.  I want to be safe just like the next guy.  The thing is, he said they'd put a yellow ribbon on the tree (another song in there) and had painted the number 12 on the trunk.  I said I'd like to know exactly which tree, hoping it wasn't one of the beautiful big pines in the front pasture.  He told me he'd call back today, giving me time to check it out.  I had to take the trash to the big road, so it was no big deal to drive by my property line, and I did, twice.  That confused Michael because I rarely to never turn left out of my driveway.  He is a dog who thrives on routine.  We checked the fence line twice and were not able to find a marked tree.  Maybe the PG&E guy was wrong, I don't know, but I sure don't want them cutting down a tree willy-nilly and apologizing later.  Stay tuned.

Sunrise is eclipsing moon glow.

Quick Change

Nature played the old switcheroo again.  After the bluster of the day before, yesterday was downright pleasant, warm enough to keep the front door open.  Instead of the puffy jacket I'd been wearing indoors and out, all I needed was a sweatshirt.  Instead of double-timing it, Michael and I walked our route at a leisurely pace in the sunshine.  I was inspired to take on some chores that had been hanging fire, like putting some of the deck stuff back on the deck and even pulling the chair out of the juniper bushes.  It was lovely to take a break to sit on the bench again.  Activated at last, some household things also got done.  Not everything, of course, must leave something for another day.  No need to go overboard.

I heard Nature sniggering as she kicked up the wind again last night after dark.  I wonder where I'll find the deck chairs this morning.  Sigh.

I'm beginning to feel like Michael's bench at bedtime.

Wrong Again

I was overly optimistic when I said the wind had died down yesterday morning.  It did, in fact, calm for awhile, but kicked up again before Michael's first walk.  "Come on, Michael, don't dawdle.  It's cold!"  Fortunately he agreed and took care of business posthaste.  By the time of his afternoon walk, it was gusting so strongly that it almost literally knocked me off my feet.  Michael looked like he was standing on the bow of the Titanic as he faced into the wind with his hair blown back.  Camille asked how I was coming with the deck project.  I wasn't.  There wasn't much sense in replacing the furniture and pots, etc., just to have everything blown about again.

I huddled under the lap robe to watch The Picture Of Dorian Gray (1945, Hurd Hatfield, George Sanders, Angela Lansbury, Donna Reed, Peter Lawford).  It's a Gothic morality play written by Oscar Wilde in 1890.  The movie won a number of Academy Awards, and it's worth watching (even for the umpteenth time).

The wind wasn't quite so strong by the last walk of the day, but it was still chill and Michael, bless him, stepped up the pace.  It's blowing again today.

Crows wake up at the crack of dawn.  It's barely light and they're yelling their heads off.  It's time to get moving, but I can't...Ralph is on my lap.

Snitville

Hey, it happens.  When people or animals live in close proximity, sometimes there are disagreements and they get into a tiff.  I can always tell when the goats are in a snit.  Normally, Sheila and Tessie graze and rest within a few yards of each other.  Where I find one, the other is close by.  When they've had a falling out, they stay on opposite sides of the fence between the two pens, I suppose until one apologizes.  The funny thing is that they still stay close and it's a wire fence.  It's not like leaving the room and slamming the door.

Ralph has been bugging Celeste and driving her to distraction.  She'll be sleeping peacefully or just looking out the window and minding her own business and Ralph will come up and slap her or jump on her.  He makes me think of the Glenn Close line from Fatal Attraction (1987, with Michael Douglas), "I will not be ignored."  When Celeste has had enough, she gets up and gives him some serious what for.  This ends up with her chasing him throughout the house, which is what he wanted in the first place.  Like the goats, they always make up.

Wind was predicted, and wind we got last night.  It was a real howler, but seems to have calmed down by daylight.

Michael sat on me again.  What's up with that?

Packing Up

"Well, if that's what she wants."  Michael tries so hard to fit in, even when he doesn't understand the why of things.  He must have noted that the cats come to bed and fit themselves on and by me and decided that must be the thing to do.  He has his own pillow, but the last few times I've actually gone to bed he's come over to sit on me before snuggling up by my side.  We are definitely a pack now.  It's a good thing I'm not a restless sleeper or I'd be tossing animals left and right.  As it is, I can't even turn over.  It's very cozy in the winter, but we'll have to make other arrangements come summer, for sure.

Sleep Tight

"Good night, sleep tight.  Don't let the bedbugs bite.  Wake up bright with the morning light to do what's right.  Good night."  I heard that almost every bedtime as a child just before my mother turned out the light.

Going to town took more out of me than I thought.  I fell asleep in the chair in the late afternoon and didn't wake up until five this morning.  Talk about sleep tight!

Kathy V. messaged me yesterday.  She'd looked up that ratcheting sound the crows make on a website called Quora.  It's called a rattle call and told me it's used when a crow is interested in something or someone but is uneasy about approaching it.  Ask, and you get the answer!

It sure saves time when you wake up fully dressed.

Light And Shadow

Michael did get his trip to town yesterday, but not until afternoon.  No, I wasn't procrastinating again, there was a valid reason.  Unless the sun is at a certain point, the trees along the road create a strobe effect, light/shadow, light/shadow, that is deleterious when driving.  For a change, I timed it right and the trip was uneventful.  There wasn't even a lot of traffic on the road.

I had forgotten to dress Michael in his official ESA vest and was concerned about taking him into the two stores that we frequent.  I needn't have worried.  He was his usual gentlemanly self, and by now the clerks call him by name.  He does like the attention.

The bird population changes all the time.  Right now a large flock of crows has moved in.  Whoever thought to call it a "murder"?  Golly, they are noisy birds, and they lack volume control.  I wish I spoke bird because I'd like to know what that ratcheting sound they sometimes make means.  In contrast, the vultures, also here in numbers, are silent.  They're actually better neighbors.  The bold jays are helping themselves to Missy's food again.  That little girl has made herself right at home on the deck, although I don't think she's ever used the bed I put out for her.  She comes a couple of times a day, maybe for breakfast and lunch, and spends some time looking in the doors at the house cats.

With any luck it'll be a couple of weeks before we have to go to town again.  One can hope.

Will And Way

The saying goes, "If there's a will, there's a way."  For the most part it's true, and it is a two-edge sword.  If there's something I really don't want to do, I'll find a way not to do it.  I've got excuses I haven't even used yet.  Of course, there are the old standbys:  Oh, I couldn't do that, the cat was asleep on my lap; I was going to do that, but couldn't find the whatchamacallit; I fell asleep and then it was too late (that one is usually true).  Truth be told, I mostly find ways to postpone the inevitable, like going to town yesterday.  After all, it was trash day and heaven knows I didn't want to leave the house twice.  It was easy to decide I could take the bins across the road and make do with a quick trip to Gray's Corner (Michael has them trained to give cookies there, as well) and put off going to P'ville one more day.

The cat (Ralph) is asleep on my lap.  I'd like to get up and get going...but I can't.  You understand.

Pretty In Pink

(Pretty In Pink, 1986, Molly Ringwald, Annie Potts, Jon Cryer.)

Not all sunsets light the sky on fire, some are beautiful painted in pastels.  I never tire of the sight.

Michael got his trip to the Cookie Store yesterday and made out like a bandit.  There was a line at the register and I gave him one of the little treats I keep in my pocket while we waited.  Michael's effect on people, men and women, never ceases to amaze me.  A lady next to me lavished him with praise.  Chris, behind the counter, reminded me to get one of the freebie biscuits for Michael (like I'd forget).  Two gentlemen behind me began talking about Michael's decorous manners, and one asked if he could also give him a treat.  Let's face it, Michael is a charmer.

He's getting a two-fer because we're going to town today.  (Oh goody.)  At least the truck has a heater.

All About Timing

Boy, I am ever so glad that Mike cleaned the chimney when he did.  The temperature started dropping yesterday afternoon and I was able to (safely) light a fire.  Just so you know, it's twenty-seven degrees this morning, so I'm not exaggerating.

Back in the day when the SF 49ers were an up and coming team, they were so doggone cocky that I couldn't get on their side.  I bet against them every game...and I lost.  I was delighted yesterday to find that Dave was also rooting for the KC Chiefs (don't be haters) so I had somebody to text with during the game.  It came down to the last six minutes of the game for the Chiefs to score for the win.  That's okay...they won!

Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow yesterday, indicating an early spring this year.  Given how cold it is this morning, I have my doubts.  Bill Murray's car ad, reprising his role in Groundhog Day during the Super Bowl, was great, one of the few good ads I saw.

My mother would say I'm moving as slow as winter molasses this morning.  I'll admit I'm not anxious to get going, but it's time.

Let's Make A Deal

(Apologies to the TV show, originated in 1963.)

Mike came yesterday morning, showing up with a clipboard under his arm.  "I'll make you a deal," he said.  "I'll sweep your chimney for no charge if you'll do some typing for me."  Well, hey, that sounded pretty good to me and I agreed.  Then he showed me what he wanted typed and told me he needed it in maybe forty minutes.  Yikes!  Three pages of an estimate for a job he was bidding, with columns of materials and prices.

Some time back, I'd been switched from Windows 7 to Windows 10.  There were many functions where the only thing they had in common is the word Windows.  I've learned to cope, but had not had occasion to use Word, the word processor, since the change.  First I had to find the file, and I knew I was in trouble.  Believe it or not, I got it all typed up neatly, with columns and everything, and only five minutes over limit.  Mike rushed off to his appointment.

While he was gone, Helper Dude rode up on his motorcycle.  I haven't seen him in ages.  Seeing him was a nice surprise, but even better when he opened his wallet.  Maybe three years ago, HD had said, "I'll make you a deal.  I'll get the old Ford tractor running, sell it, and we'll split the profit."  "Heck of a deal," said I, "and a lot better than watching it rust away in my yard."  True to his word, HD had found a buyer and had come to give me my share (insert big smiley face here).

Mike came back positively beaming.  "I got it!  I got the job!"  "Congratulation, kiddo!"  Mike had swept the chimney in less time than it took me to type the estimate, so he got a good deal.  I mentioned to him that Ratso had killed the refrigerator.  "Let me take a look."  He opened the door, worked some kind of magic, and ta da! the fridge was running.  "How did you do that?!"  He was a little embarrassed to admit he'd turned off the refrigerator and had forgotten to turn it back on.  Duh, I didn't know a fridge could be turned off.  The things I don't know are legion.

All in all, I'd say that the day was a good deal for everyone.

That Can't Be Right

Instead of dragging into the day, I was full of enthusiasm yesterday.  The sun was shining and I was going to work on the deck stuff, clean the fridge, etc., etc., etc.  I had a plan!  As is my wont, I sat down to watch a bit of morning news before Michael's first walk.  "Good Friday morning!," chirped the newscaster.  Surely she must be mistaken, it couldn't possibly be Friday already.  Just to be sure, I checked my cellphone.  Nooo!  It most definitely was Friday.  I had yet to move appointments, et cetera, onto the new calendar, and thought I'd best check to see what else I'd missed, and it's a good thing I did.  Not only had I not realized it was Arden Friday already, I'd also forgotten I'd made an appointment with Candy, the traveling hairdresser, for the same time.  Mike had let me know he couldn't make it re. the chimney.  So much for my ambitious plans.

First things first.  I put the bench back where it belongs on the deck.  One of these days I might actually get to sit on it.  Michael and I went for walk #2, and I was able to get a few more things placed before my guests arrived.  One reason for Arden's visit is that she can catch up on MSNBC newscasts, a channel she doesn't get.  I had barely plonked Arden in front of the TV before Candy was at the door.  Candy worked her magic and gave me a little style instead of looking like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket.  Arden, I fear, got short shrift.

Company gone, Michael got walk #3 (believe me, he can count).  Later, I went to get something from the outside freezer, only to find it had completely melted.  I should have known that Ratso wouldn't be satisfied with a couple of cans of Mountain Dew.  Either that or he was wreaking revenge for having blocked his way to more.  I don't think I'll be replacing the fridge.

So much for Friday.