Did I Mention...?

Caught a break in the rain when I went out for morning chores yesterday.  Bess declined to join me; what a surprise.  Did I mention that there was an east wind?  Trying to fill the pot for the wild things was a challenge with the water blowing sideways.

One member of the Mouse Pack was unhappy that I had not mentioned him in the list of new players.  China is an undersized kid with almond-shaped eyes.  He is rather shy and only takes grain from the edge of the pile, then ducks back into the burrow.  The others will pick through to get the best goodies.  China takes whatever is closest.  I didn't mean to leave him off the roster, but hadn't seen him for a day or two until yesterday and he reminded me.  Gomenasai.

I've been immersed in World War II for a week or so.  I reread the second in Ken Follett's latest historic trilogy, "Winter Of The World."  Fascinating stuff for someone who grew up in that era (and anyone else).  Having turned the last page and shut the cover, I looked for something else to read on a stormy day and picked up a book loaned to me by Arden some time ago.  It took two days to finish "The World At Night" by Alan Furst.  Again about WWII, but from a different viewpoint.  Fascinating material and also so well written.  Immediately, I chose to start "Red Gold," sequel to "The World At Night."  It is so enjoyable to be introduced to new-to-me authors and find treasures.

Listening to love songs from the '50s and then a concert by Willie Nelson, trying to keep the wood stove up to speed, reading good books, heating leftovers from the night before, warmed by lap cats and dog, did I mention it was a good day?

East Wind

One upon a time, long, long ago, I was on a cotton farm in Arizona, staying with friends.  I didn't understand at that time why they turned on the weather channel even before starting the coffee.  Now I do.  I may not know what's going on elsewhere in the outside world, but, by golly, I try not to miss a weather report every morning.  Regardless of the season, hot or cold, dry or wet, weather significantly affects daily life here.  Rain had been predicted for the next week, but I didn't hear the part about the wind.  The storm hit about 1 a.m., and I mean hit like a freight train.

Trying to stay ahead of the game, Bess and I went to Mt. Aukum yesterday to fill the truck's gas tank and stock up on feed.  Later, I brought load after load of firewood up to the porch.  The wind is out of the east, so perhaps the rain won't get blown onto the wood rack on the west side.  Wind chimes on the east deck are almost straight out, clanging, not tinkling.

Bessie Anne normally makes a potty run while I'm at the computer and began whining on the bed; her signal request to go outside.  I got up and Celeste immediately jumped onto my chair.  Great.  I turned on the porch light and opened the door for Bess.  "No, thanks, but I'm not going out in that."  She led the way to the front door.  Repeat:  light, door, "No."  Okay, so we went to the covered-deck door in the dining room.  Semi-repeat:  light, door, "No," and I pushed her out.  Two steps into the wind and she came back and barked, "Let me in!  I can hold it!"  I relented.  Back to the computer and I pushed Celeste off the chair.  Ask my Kids about the Mean Mother Of The Year award.  When they were too young to know better, I used to tell them I had to say no to some requests because I needed points and I wanted to win that award.  (Hey, it's my story and I'm sticking to it.)  Bess and Celeste are going to nominate me, for sure.

Rain is pounding against the windows and I can hear the east wind pushing lawn furniture around outside.  It's going to be one of those days.

New Players

There are a couple of new regulars in the Mouse Pack (just as entertaining as Sinatra's Rat Pack, but smaller) in the milking room.  When Kinks was alive (the little guy with the broken tail), I started putting down a separate bit of grain for him because the other kids would bully him.  I continued to put grain there just in case he came back, but he never did.  Pal has taken Kinks' place.  Pal doesn't have any particular physical attribute to make him stand out; it's his attitude.  That little pile of feed is just a foot or two from my side when I'm milking.  The other mice duck for cover if I move, but Pal sits quietly and politely eats his breakfast, regardless.  He watches me with calm eyes.  It's as if he knows I'm a friend.  I enjoy his company.

Twitchy comes every morning, too.  The other mice are cautious, but Twitchy carries it to the extreme.  He appears out of the burrow hole in the corner, some distance from the buffet.  He may poke his head out three or four times like a Jack-in-the-box before he gathers enough courage to actually come into the room.  He then takes a few steps (mouse steps) in and then pops back down.  This is repeated I don't know how many times, gaining a little ground each time before he finally gets to the grain.  He disappears in a heartbeat if I even turn my head in his direction so I watch out of the corner of my eye.  He never stops to eat like most of the others, but grabs a kernel and dashes for home.  I don't know if he stashes his hoard or gobbles it in safety, but he makes trip after trip each day.  I applaud his reluctant bravery.

It seems the Mouse Pack feels the same way about rainy days as the goats.  When it's very stormy, few to none of them come out of their burrows even for breakfast.  I envision them tucked in their underground nests, snuggled warmly in blankets of stolen diaper wipes.  They must draw straws to see who is going to go for take-out because the grain is gone by next day.  With this short stretch of sunny days, they've been coming in hoards to eat their fill and slurp up some milk.

It's always nice to see new players on stage. 

Light And Dark

Light and dark, up and down, to and fro...take your pick.  It was one of those days.  A bright, beautiful, almost warm morning, and the girls all went to lie in the sun after their stint on the stand.  It was a perfect day to be outside; however, the Minnesota Vikings were playing in the Superbowl wild-card game against the Seattle Seahawks and I couldn't miss that.  One point.  We (Vikings) lost by one point.  Sigh?  No, cry.  As my Kids say, "And then depression sets in."  Now I've got to pin my sights on the Pittsburgh Steelers.  Hope springs eternal.

Suitable to my mood, by the time the game was over the gloomy cloud cover was also overhead.  Crum.  Another lost opportunity.

At sundown, the dark cloud bank had moved over to the west, leaving a sliver of light at the horizon and brightening the the trailers above.  The temperature dropped significantly and I hurried through chores to get back in the house to fire up the wood stove.

Somewhere in the 4 a.m. time frame, Ralph leaves his customary place in bed behind my knees and puts a soft paw against my face.  He's done it often enough that I know the routine.  I lift the covers and my redheaded cuddlebug goes into the blanket cave to snuggle against my chest and we both go back to sleep.  There are worse ways to start the day.

Wandering Mind

The sound track in my mind started playing "Sweet and Low (Wind of the Western Sea)" in the barn.  It was one of the few true lullabies I sang to my babies.  More often, I opted for less traditional songs like "St. Louis Blues."  Poor Kids, they never stood a chance.  In an all-girls high school, only one other gal and I had true alto voices so we were assured of being in the glee club and I got the starring male roles in all our plays.  I have a heck of a time with "The Star-Spangled Banner," and have to drop it a couple of octaves.  My dad had a lovely tenor voice, so I don't know what happened.  By now, I'm used to answering the phone and hearing, "Hello, sir."

Instead of true rain, yesterday was just drizzly and cold.  Unfortunately, one piece of mail thrown into the creek was a seed catalog from Sheepers and it hasn't dried out yet.  It was the kind of day I would have loved to sit and turn pages of their beautiful catalog and dream of spring.  Sigh.  Sheepers has enticed me in the past to invest in such "exotics" as amaranth (Love Lies Bleeding), an unusual, gorgeous plant with edible seeds, and bullseye (chiogga) beets.  Recipes are often included.

Beau, a neighbor, came by to look at the tractor implements.  Sadly, amongst the harrows, discs, and drag blades sitting unused in the yard, the one thing he wanted was an auger, and it was the one piece I'd sold.  Sigh.  Beau noted the large number of turkeys in residence.  We're coming up on breeding season.  The boys are strutting their stuff and fights break out.  A couple of toms were getting it on as Beau and I were walking out to the tractor, twining their necks in battle as the crowd around them cheered.  Beau and his wife Katie are recent arrivals from the Bay Area and are enthralled by the wildlife here.  I hope they never lose that feeling.

Bored by house arrest, it was a day to let the mind wander.  And dust.  And that's how bored I was.

And You Thought...

It might be thought that I exaggerate.  I do not.  This is the obstacle course as laid out by, could it be Ralph?  The living and dining rooms are equally littered.  Let's just say I get my exercise when vacuuming.  The house perpetually looks like a daycare center.

Back on December 23, I posted a picture when the ceiling and acorns fell in the shed.  It's taken awhile, shoving a bucket of acorns out every day, but progress is being made to empty the room.  At the rate I'm going, who knows how long it will take.  I'm very close to being able to lift out that section of drywall.  What to do with it then, I have no idea.  I hope the squirrels don't lose their taste for acorns.

Glory be, we had a full day of sunshine yesterday!  Rain is forecast again today.  Crum.  Bess and I went out twice to sit and bask on the deck.  There are things I could have and should have been doing, but I wasn't going to waste a minute.  As I cleaned stalls and hauled out buckets of poo, I noticed Esther lying down dozing with her head resting on the barn wall, eyes half shut.  She evidently feels the same way about sunshine as I.

It was a good day.

Just Ask

It might be a case of "the squeaky wheel gets the grease," but just yesterday I was complaining about too many rainy days in succession and wouldn't you know the sun came out later in the morning?  Admittedly, it was weak and without much warmth, but there it was, regardless.  One good thing about the local DCG soil (decomposed granite), it drains quickly, and by afternoon the mud had mostly solidified again.

For the first time in days, the house eventually got warm.  I'd been worried about the catalytic converter in the wood stove (a big-ticket item), but I think I've found the current problem.  It's very possible that Helper Dude loaded the porch rack with green (unseasoned) wood.  He should have known better, because he's the one who cut and split oak from that huge branch that fell late last year.  Hey, he's only 15, so he gets a pass.  I figured it out only when I got down to previously stacked wood (thanks, Dave and Clay) and the stove got hot immediately.

I use the cellphone quite a bit for texting, but make and receive very few actual calls.  When I do get a call, I'm almost guaranteed to hang up instead of answering.  What can I say?  The little red button on the left has a phone on it and I push that instead of the green one on the right.  I did it again yesterday when Milk Guy called to change his pick-up day next week.  Sorry, it's not personal.

I received a letter from the Postmaster General's office; a form to report stolen mail.  One of the questions was, "Describe material stolen."  I've a bit of a problem with that because while I can describe what was found, I have no way of knowing what else might have been stolen and kept.  Another question was, "Was a police report made?"  Well, no.  I called the Sheriff's Office immediately and was told an officer would contact me as soon as one was available.  That was last Sunday and I've seen neither hide nor hair of any deputy to date.  I'm getting the same feeling as when I call PG&E on the landline (the only working phone when there is no electricity) to report a power outage and the recorded voice tells me I can make the report online.  Hmmm, if I had power, I wouldn't be calling.

Walking through the living room is like traveling through an obstacle course.  Ralph and Celeste have found a new trove of treasure.  They've figured out how to open the louvered doors to the guest room closet where I stash Taylor's favorite stuffed toys.  I never know what new surprise is in store when I go out in the morning nor what I'll have to step over or kick out of my way.

Sunset last night was cold and cloud covered.  This morning is cold, but, guess what, the sun is coming up bright and clear.  I just had to ask.  Ta da!

Happy birthday to my son Larry!