Too Much Of A Good Thing

When I lived down in the valley, my home was in a triangle bordered by the Yolo causeway, the deep-water channel, and the Sacramento river.  I lived there in what was called the 100-year flood and it got pretty hairy, watching the waters rise and waiting to see if the levees would hold.  They did.  Flood insurance is one thing I don't need up here on the crest of the hill, but I'm a little tired of being wet.  El Nino (sorry, can't type the tilde) has arrived and we are getting wave after wave of storms, seemingly for days on end.  Turkeys flock together under the oaks, shoulders hunched and wet feathers dark.  No offense to either profession, but they make me think of solemn, morose clergymen or undertakers as they slowly pace in groups.  We have been on rainy-day routine down at the barn.  I leave the girls in their stalls until they need to come into the milking room instead of turning them out, all but one, to go up for alfalfa and a stretch of the legs to wait their turn.  The wind has been out of the east, blowing rain halfway into the sheltered play yard.  There is plenty of room for them to stay dry during the day, but the space is limited.  Mud is two inches deep in front of the barn, making footing a challenge, and I don't even want to talk about the chicken pen.  I open the little door and ramp to the coop, the hens cluster in the doorway and say, "Nuh uh, we're not going out in that!"  After making sure they've got food and water, I close the big door and make my way carefully out of their pen.

Dogs have phenomenal bladder control.  Given several opportunities, Bessie Anne declined to go out in the wind (really heavy yesterday) and rain.  There is no litter box for dogs and I was beginning to worry about how long she could hold it.  Linda dropped by unexpectedly in early afternoon and only then could I push Bess out the door.  Linda and I goth a laugh when Bessie came back in.  Obviously feeling lighter than air, she raced around, found one of the cats' toys and tossed it like a puppy, getting Linda to chase her (her favorite game).  "Oh, what a relief it is!"

Having shown remarkable restraint, I waited until last night to try the coconut-ginger simmering sauce with chicken (thighs this time), chunked up potatoes and carrots, and a sprinkling of peas.  Really, really good, but I like the vindaloo more.  I'm going to ask my personal shoppers to put these sauces on the list for their next visit.

My weather app tells me we'll get showers today and maybe, just maybe, sunshine tomorrow.  Some rain is good, but it is possible to get too much of a good thing.

Cuddlebugs

Cuddlebugs, snuggle-bunnies, whatever term is used, I've got 'em.  I cannot sit down anywhere without an immediate response from Ralph and Celeste, and sometimes Bessie Anne.  Boots may be made for walking, but laps are definitely made for cuddling.  I've explained that I may only be sitting for a minute, but it matters not.  I've tried perching on the edge of the chair, elbows on knees to hide the lap, but Celeste will stretch across my forearms.  Any port in a storm, she says.  Ralph headbutts his way to where he wants to be, regardless.  Bessie sits by my feet and whimpers piteously, "What about me?," until I lift her up.  I'm a sucker for puppy eyes.

Bedtime is a group activity.  Bessie's stumpy legs won't get her up on the bed so she is given a boost.  She lies down on my pillow until she gets a back and shoulder massage.  I often wish she could return the favor.  Relaxed, she moves over to her pillow and only then can I slip in.  As soon as the lights are out, Celeste and Ralph sneak up and plant themselves firmly cuddled up together against my legs.  Do they honestly think I won't notice them?  Ten- to thirteen-pound cats suddenly become the weight of boulders, immovable objects, and the blankets are nailed down.  I cling to my allotted space on the edge of the bed, and so goes the night.

The goats huddle rather than cuddle together in wet weather, and they did a lot of huddling again yesterday.  I know we need the rain, but I'd much prefer smaller doses.  Four or five days in a row is a bit much, and my jackets and bibbies aren't getting dried out between feedings.  The wood stove is struggling to keep the dampness out.  I think I might need to replace the catalytic converter because it's hard to keep a fire going up into the "burn zone."  The converter has a secondary air inlet vent and I've got that sucker nearly wide open, to no avail.  A low burn creates more creosote in the chimney.  Crum.

Even with the rain all day, the morning offering of acorns was gone by nightfall.  This plan is working!

I'm having to make a lot of corrections today.  Ralph put a paw gently on my shoulder and when I turned in the chair, he jumped from the bed to my lap.  He is lying across my forearms and I'm peeking across his back to the screen.  As someone or other said, "A cat is a cat and that is that."  Cats are cuddlebugs. 

One Ringy-Dingy

Most of yesterday was spent on the telephone trying to locate people whose mail had been stolen along with mine, speaking with a couple and leaving messages where I could for others.  A call to the local post office had resulted in a call to to the Postmaster General's office and a transfer to the Investigation Division.  The ID stressed the importance of notifying everyone affected because it wasn't the found material, it was what the thieves may have kept for identity theft that was most important.  I've done what I can.

It wasn't a bad day to stay inside as it rained most of the day.  I caught a break in the morning and evening, but don't think I'll be that lucky today.  Awoke to a real howler of a storm and it hasn't let up.  Another day of cranky goats and soggy chickens.  Ah well.

My daughter had gifted me with two simmering sauces:  Indian vindaloo and a coconut curry, neither of which I'd tried.  Ohmigosh!  The night before, I cut up and browned a chicken breast, added onion, mixed vegetables, and the vindaloo sauce to bubble away.  I'm not ashamed to say I gorged at dinner.  I was planning to save the remainder for last night's dinner, but it kept calling my name and I ate it for lunch.  (And I don't usually eat lunch.)  Spicy, tangy, without a lot of heat, vindaloo was so satisfying on a rainy day.  Hmmm, is it too soon to try the coconut curry tonight?

The acorn situation seems to be resolving.  Every morning, I push out about a bucketful into the yard.  Every night, all those acorns are gone.  Squirrels, turkeys, deer?  I don't know, but the tide is turning and there are some happy, well-fed critters out there.  It will take months and I'll have to do something about the downed ceiling one of these days, but at least I can get to the birdseed without losing my footing.  There is a second problem, however.  Yesterday I noted woodpeckers still banking their bounty through the soffit automatic teller.  I hope they're not just redepositing.

Lost And Found

Well, yesterday was interesting.  Thanks to the internet, a notice was put up on a local website regarding a box of stolen mail found in a nearby creek, and Linda and Cam both called (at the same time) to tell me some of my mail was included.  I met Cam down at the big road and we went down to the creek.  A good Samaritan had brought the soggy mess up to the road and Cam was able to get down the bank and retrieve some still floating in the water.  It's not unusual for my mailbox to be empty, and not much besides junk mail and bills when it's not.  The waste disposal bill comes every other month, so I wasn't looking for it, but sure enough, there it was, as well as some other important stuff.  Postmarks indicated everything went through the post office on December 29, so the theft had to occur recently.  There was mail and a package for ten nearby addresses.  I sorted by name and set everything out to drip dry on the porch, then contacted the Sheriff's Dept.  Of course I forgot that it was Sunday and wondered why the post office didn't answer the phone.  Duh.  I recognized a neighbor's name and was able to let her know, and they came to retrieve her envelopes.  We live in interesting times.

Another loss occurred in early evening when the power went out.  Drat!  The Vikings-Green Bay Packers game had just started when the world went dark.  Thankfully, Dave kept me up on the score and, even better, let me know that the Minnesota Vikings won!!  I'd been waiting and waiting for the new season of Downton Abbey to start.  No power, no DVR, no Downton Abbey.  Crum.  Hours later when the lights came back on and I could blow out the oil lamp, I did a search and found DA will show again on Thursday.  That made me a lot happier than find a soggy bill.

Win some, lose some, win again.

Taste Of Summer

In addition to the Christmas fruitcake, Kathy V. sent three little pots of homemade jam:  raspberry, blueberry, and apricot.  I try not to be prejudiced, but I will admit to a preference for apricot anything.  Toast and apricot jam last night put the taste of summer in my mouth.  Now she's got me thinking about fresh sweet corn and watermelon.  Back in the day, before so much produce was imported, we were all seasonal eaters.  Spring was rhubarb and baby asparagus.  Summer was, as I said, sweet corn and watermelon.  Fall brought butternut squash, and in winter we went to dried lima beans and ham hocks, soups and homemade bread.  Now it's difficult to tell the seasons because fresh produce of all types is available all year round.

I know it's officially winter and the thermometer proves it, but the days are almost imperceptibly getting longer.  Daybreak is a few minutes earlier and I don't have to put the girls to bed until 5 p.m. now.  For awhile there, I had to head out at 4.  The last few days have been rain free, but the next four are predicted to be wet again.

Bessie Anne lazed around all day yesterday.  I think she's over whatever ailed her, for which we're both grateful.  I've had a bit of a wonky hip lately, so was also thankful that Helper Dude could come over to unload the feed bags from the truck and haul the 75-pounder down to the barn, climb up on a step stool to change an overhead light bulb, and restock the wood rack.  If I can't do the work myself, I'm a great supervisor.

It will take awhile to get out of the California drought, but with the rain we've gotten of late, I think there'll be enough ground water to risk a garden this year.  Sitting on the porch on a summer's day shelling fresh peas sounds heavenly.  I can taste them now.

Dirty Business

No two ways about it, wood stoves are dirty.  There are always bits of bark and leaves on the logs and they end up on the hearth.  I've traded the dust of summer for the film of ash that is inevitable from stirring the coals and emptying the ash pan from under the grate.  Ah well, small price to pay for the heat.

Being from Texas, my dad loved the traditional black-eyed peas on New Year's, said to bring good luck for the year.  Farther south, I guess it is Hoppin' John, also made with black-eyed peas but with other veggies and rice.  I was never able to develop a taste for those peas, so yesterday I went a little farther afield.  My daughter reminded me yesterday of Craig's family favorite for their traditional Japanese holiday meal.  I had all the fixings, so made miso soup with mochi.  Miso is a fermented bean paste with wonderful, rich flavor.  Mochi are little cakes made from pounded rice, slightly sweet and definitely chewy whether baked or boiled.  Together, the dish is called ozoni.  Green onions are better, but I made do with paper-thin sliced white onion cooked in the broth.  Piping hot and hearty, it was my good luck last night.

Cam called to tell me of her morning's adventure.  She was headed up toward Grizzly Flat, turned on to a road and slid out on black ice.  Fortunately, she didn't hit anything, but was good and stuck, not able to move forward nor reverse.  The only tool she had was a rake and used that to try to chip enough of the ice away from the tires until the rake broke.  There are many dead zones for cellphones up here, but luckily she was able to make a call out to Triple-A.  She only had to wait 45 minutes for the truck to arrive, and it took 3 minutes for him to tow her to safety.  She abandoned her plans for the day.  This is the first morning I've awakened to more than 32 degrees (it's 34).  There are still chunks of frozen hail here and there in the yards and the birdbath remains an ice rink after a week of freezing temperatures.

I should have served some ozoni to Bessie Anne so as to share the luck.  I'll be washing the comforter today because she's thrown up twice on the bed this morning.  Talk about dirty business.

2016

Like millions of others, I will be watching the Pasadena Rose Parade today.  As a kid, before television (yes, children, once upon a time there was no television), we lived in a small town near Pasadena.  Only once did we brave the crowds to attend the parade in person.  Colorado Boulevard was a sea of faces and, being little, a forest of knees.  Once was enough for our family.  What we did do was go to Pasadena on New Year's Day in the afternoon.  All the floats were parked in a specific area and we could walk around to see the real thing up close.   As I recall, some of the flowers were a little tattered from wind and contact, but they were amazing, just the same.  Later, I was privileged to go to a boarding high school in the hills above Pasadena, overlooking the Rose Bowl.  Pasadena remains close to my heart.

Country living being what it is, we had an early, brief New Year's celebration yesterday.  December 31 is also Cam's birthday, another reason to party!  Linda and Camille came in the afternoon and Linda brought a quiche and some nibbles.  I had the cheese to go with her crackers.  A quick drink, a munch, and a toast to the New Year was the extent of the festivities at Farview.  Cam was going down to The Pub and needed to be there before 4 p.m.  It's an English pub and celebrates New Year on London time.  Linda needed to be home before dark as the roads are still slick with ice.

It was nice to ring out the old year and usher in 2016 with friends.  Happy New Year!