As The World Turns

I think I can say with honesty that I've never in my life watched a soap opera, but the title of a well-known old one (As The World Turns, 1956-2010) came to me last evening.  It was so apparent that the earth had turned on its axis.  I made sure to stand close to where I've taken so many other photos to show why the days are shorter now.

For comparison purposes, this shot was taken months ago, before the cellphone tower was erected.  It certainly shows how the sun is going down from right to left of the trees on the horizon.  With a shortened arc, it's obvious why we have fewer hours of daylight.

We head into a new decade tomorrow.  The world turns and time flies.  I don't usually make New Year's resolutions, but I'm going to try this year...See It, Do It...and, yes, that includes dusting.  This has been a do-nothing year and I'm tired of it.

Ohmigosh, I just looked back and realized I've been writing almost daily (power outages notwithstanding) since January 2010!  Sheila and Tessie were pregnant with their first kids; they're old ladies now.  I had lots of chickens then and no Rotten Stanley.  I hated dusting then, too.  Some things don't change.  I started with a photo of sunset, so it's fitting to end this year the same way.

Happy New Year!

Ho Hum

Nothing if not true to form, yesterday was a do-nothing day for me after all the festivities.  Ralph and Celeste, on the other hand, had their own holiday, opening boxes and bags and finding, oh joy, tissue paper!  Celeste was worn out from getting the box open and then pulling it out and/or making confetti.  Ralph got the paper out of the box and Michael chimed in by lying on it.  I don't know whether he liked doing that or was saying nanner-nanner to the cats.  Anyway, they all had fun.

I've learned over time not to put the See's box next to my chair.  Showing admirable restraint, I left it in the kitchen and only went in there, oh, four or five times.  At this rate, I may make the box last four or five days.  Or not.

Leftover KFC potatoes, gravy, and my favorite coleslaw for lunch.  (I'm saving the chicken for last.)  Deb and Craig had also given me packets of chickpea masala.  One minute in the microwave and they're hot and ready to eat.  A warm, spicy, filling dinner on a cold, cold day.

The predicted storm didn't materialize so I brought more wood to the porch and promptly stuffed Stove and lit it.  On our last walk of the day, Michael and I were surprised to see a young, maybe a yearling, horse trotting across our path and heading down the drive.  "Do you want me to do something about that, Mom?"  "No, Michael.  Just let him be."  I couldn't readily locate Bruce and Annie's phone number, so called Arden to let her know the horses had found a way out.  Just as Bruce called back, another one came into my yard, maybe the kid's mama looking for him, and I let Bruce know that there was a major breakout.  It was nearly dark, so all I could do was wish them luck.

That was the most excitement to be had on an otherwise ho-hum day.  Unless you're a cat.

I Needed That!

Rushing around yesterday, I came across the box of costumes that Michael came with.  Thinking to get a little holiday spirit going, I chose the Santa hat.  Is this the face of a happy dog?

No, it is not.  "Mom, you make me look like a fool!"

I told him that I'd take it off if he'd let me get just one good picture.  To be honest, this looks a lot more like "Bah humbug," than "Ho Ho Ho."  (He doesn't know about the Halloween witch hat with the orange wig.  Shhh.)

The Kids started showing up midday.  There is nothing like the gathering of the clan to cure the blahs, and I got a healthy dose yesterday.  They came bearing gifts and KFC!  This was the first year I haven't cooked, but with KFC on the table, I couldn't/wouldn't complain.  We may have started a new tradition.

Then came a flurry of tissue and wrapping paper as we opened presents.  Clyde, Deb and Craig's cat, was very generous to Michael and the cats, gifting them with bags and jars of treats.  No, they're not spoiled.  Dave is a big believer in toys for Christmas and gave everyone a small drone, controlled (or not) by the waving of hands.  It was an episode of Star Wars, and I was attacked several times.  For nearly forty years, Deb picked up where my father left off and gave me a box of See's candy, his every-year present.  I promptly put it in a cupboard like any respectable hoarder, not willing to share.

The Kids were very impressed with the new, improved deck.  Being a sunny day, they spent time out there.  Dave, a foreman on a multi-million project, sent kudos to Mike.

Deb has a fancy-dancy phone that will take a photo on a timer and got a good shot of all of us together.  She sent it to my phone and I will share it when I figure out how to transfer it to the computer.

All to soon, it was time for Deb, Craig, Dave, Clay, and Jester to get out of the hills before dusk when the deer come out.  It was a good day and a merry, Merry Christmas.  I needed that.

Win Some...

Anybody out there who could loan me some leftover holiday spirit?  I seem to have lost or misplaced mine.  Good intentions didn't get me far this year and I still haven't put up so much as a wreath for Christmas.  I am definitely looking forward to seeing the Kids who are coming up today, but just wish I were more prepared.  Sigh.

I usually see one flicker per season.  This year there is a whole flock of this unusual woodpecker.  They are much larger than their rowdy redheaded cousins, and they're a pretty bird, dressed in tan with a black collar and polka dots on the chest.  They come to sit on the deck rail and look in the window, so I get a good look at them, too.  The passing parade of migrating birds is such a pleasure.

Well, it's 6 a.m. and still dark outside.  Maybe there's time to do something yet.  I don't know what, but something.  Just muttering ho ho ho isn't going to cut it.

Ho Ho Ho!  (I'm trying.)

The Last Drop

I'm in a rut.  It's a comfortable rut and I'm not complaining.  Every morning starts in exactly the same way...every single day of the week.  Wake up, get up, make one cup of coffee and, while the pot is doing its thing, make sure there is food in the little kids' bowls.  Bring the coffee back to the bedroom and write the day's entry.  Some days the blog nearly writes itself, other days I struggle.  So many times I listen to the music in my head; that's nice.  This morning I woke up reciting a poem I learned long, long ago.  The opening lines are "Backward, turn backward, O Time in thy flight.  Make me a child again just for tonight" (Elizabeth Akers Allen, 1800s).  Now where the heck did that come from?  Maybe I'm just a bit tired of doing Grownup.  (Can you tell that dusting is on the agenda for today?)

The thing is, it doesn't take a cup of coffee long to go cold.  I don't much care for cold coffee, so I'm constantly checking the mug, even when I know I've finished it (just in case, you know).  A problem arises when I've used a black mug,as I did today.  Writing in a dark room, I check the cup and can't tell if it's empty.  Many's the time I've raised the mug and get hit with a slurp of iced coffee.  Oh well, it's still good to the last drop.

I was admiring Michael's coloring last evening while he was posing like a library lion.  He has perfect counterpoints to accent his thick black fur coat.  We'll go out for a walk later (Michael's in a rut, too), and I guarantee he'll go for the last drop.

Sitting Pretty

"You are smart.  You are handsome.  You are as soft as a cloud.  You are a good, good boy."  Michael hears this mantra every day.  Because of the dark background it's a little hard to see Michael's ears.  They go out to the side Baby Yoda style like this when he's relaxed, but let me take down the leash or reach in my pocket for a treat and those ears go up on high alert.  I also tell him he's funny, but he, so serious, rejects that idea.  Look at those eyes and tell me he's not a sentient being.

I received a call from Glenn and Jerri, my other brother- and sister-in-law, with an invitation to join a family dinner.  I declined, but certainly appreciated the thought.

It was a quiet, peaceful Christmas Day.  Because of the holiday the trash man's schedule was off, so Michael got his truck ride yesterday.  (Try to keep up here, it's an event in our week!)  A neighbor who is out of town asked me to pick up a package that UPS was to leave by his gate.  There are so many porch thieves in the news these days and he didn't want to be a victim.  I hoped I wouldn't be mistaken for one.

I take it back about it being a quiet day.  It's never hard to tell who got a new gun for Christmas.  Gunshots of different calibers ring out all over the hills.  It was a bit startling the first year.  Now it's expected.

I did eat the other apple cake for dinner, but still have some fruit cake left.  I believe in prolonging a holiday as much as I can.  After all, Christmas isn't for two more days.

Oh Joy!

I wasn't the only one gifted yesterday.  It being Christmas Eve and all, I decided to open the packages I'd received.  I'd been bemoaning the lack of holiday baking this year due to dietary restraints in the family, so imagine my delight when I found apple cakes from Stan and Lynne.

Having no self-control, I promptly ate one (gobbled is more like it).  Ahh, the taste of cinnamon and ginger, the moistness of the apples.

I had dared to hope for what might be in the box from Kathy V.  I had seen on FB that she'd been baking fruit cakes, a lot of fruitcakes.  Could it be she'd sent one to me?  She had!  Not waiting for a knife, I gnawed off one end.  (I did say I have no self-control).

Cherries and nuts and all the other fruits found in fruit cake.  Nom nom nom!  It was a mouthful of Christmas.

Ralph, in the meantime, had found his own gift.  Give a cat a box and you have a happy cat.  They need no directions.  What do you do with a box?  You get in!  Ralph was having such a good time until his sister batted him on the butt (all that was sticking out) and demanded her turn.  Sisters, what're ya gonna do?

I spent a good portion of the day and into the evening connecting with friends and family.  I've stayed in contact with my 90-year-old cousin on my dad's side.  She and I are nearly the only two left, and she's the only one with whom I can share memories of our past.  "Do you remember when Grandpa did such and such?" And we laugh.

George had kicked off the holiday season with his gift of pecan cookies.  Stan, Lynne, and Kathy V topped it off.  Pure joy!

Merry Christmas, everyone!