Waking Up From A Long Winter's Nap

So I've skipped some time here.  Let's call it seasonal affective disorder - those short, dark days take their toll.  But that's over, and here's what I've missed -

April 8th was Fritz's 31st birthday.  Way to go, Fritzy!  Unfortunately at this time of year his winter coat is starting to shed out and he looks pretty mangy.  But for the record, here he is today, playing Wild Horse on the Range, standing in mud and drinking from puddles.  Because trudging back to the clean water in the barn would just be too much trouble.

That scruffy coat gets brushed out every day, most efficiently with the shedding blade, littering the stall floor with crescents of horse hair.  If he looks muddy in that close up, that's because he is.  All that loose hair is itchy, and he rolls every day.  I'm just glad he can get up and down easily, and flip himself over.  He can get as muddy as he wants.




















And on a smaller scale, you might remember our little cat Harley who likes to kill inanimate objects.  She finally found the ultimate prey at my granddaughter's second birthday party:

Think you're tough, T-Rex? 

You're going down!





Guarding her kill:



Trees In A Box!

LOOK WHAT I GOT!




What do you mean, you can't see anything?  There are 140 trees in that box! 
 
Literally, in the box.  The corrogations in the cardboard contain approximately 70 tree seeds (and beneficial mycorrhizal fungi) per square foot, which means all parts of the box.  Yup, we're planting an empty box.

Life Box Company is not only concerned with perpetuating life on our plantet, but also with doing it without creating waste products.  In fact, they made the packaging beneficial to growth.  Basic instructions are right on the box - two boxes, in this photo:

 

I haven't started it yet, but that soak and chill part is interesting.  Soak for 10 minutes, and chill in the refrigerator for 6-12 weeks.  I think this simulates the dormant period of winter, because if you plant in the fall, you skip the refrigeration step.

 

I don't expect to have a forest - many seedlings don't survive in nature, and I imagine deer, rabbits, and assorted others will make a tasty snack of some of my baby trees.  But as a prospective parent, I am looking forward to some or all of the following native species:

 

 

Douglas fir                                                     river birch

Arizona cypress                                             water birch

Blue spruce                                                    paper birch

Lodgepole pine                                              desert willow

pitch pine                                                       American sweetgum

Eastern white pine                                         American sycamore

Virginia pine                                                  American elm

mountain hemlock

white cedar

                                                                                                               

Stay tuned for the next twenty or thirty years and watch my babies grow up!

 

 



Writing Technique

My granddaughter took over my office.  She may be a future novelist because I swear this is the same technique I use!  Maybe I should try a pacifier, too.

Deer Friends

I never fed the deer before this year, but with a lack of apples and crab apples and God knows what else after our weird weather, I figured they needed some help.  I get a regular crowd of 9 does every morning, with a few others straggling through after them.  These three are my favorite - a mom and her twin babies - because I've watched the little ones since last last spring when they were tiny spotted fawns, all legs and curiosity.  They are far too used to humans, which worries me, but they're only copying mom, who is also used to living close to people.  The whole herd now recognizes my whistle for calling the horses in, and they come trotting across the neighboring hay field, knowing corn and sunflower seeds will be out soon.

Neither Snow, Nor Rain, Nor Heat, Nor Gloom Of Night...

Aha, but what about ice?  Gotcha there, Post Office.

 Last night, after several inches of hard-packed snow on frozen ground met a good hard rain, all the dirt roads turned into sheets of ice.  Cars were luge sleds.  This was my road this afternoon, after several hours of 50+ degress started melting some of the ice.

 

And right in front of my driveway:

 

 

The mail lady didn't come today.  I don't blame her.

A Pep Talk In Every Drop!

Feeling down?  Need to know someone's in your corner?  Have a cough drop.

But it has to be a Halls cough drop, because they have "A pep talk in every drop!"

Who knew?  I didn't, not until my recent sore throat when I looked down at the wrapper of my Halls tropical fruit flavored drops, and saw, "Buckle down and push forth!"  Huh?  I smoothed out the paper and there was more.  "Nothing you can't handle."  "Don't waste a precious minute."

That's a lot of advice from one cough drop.  So I yanked the two previous wrappers from the waste basket.

"You can do it and you know it."
"Get through it."
"Put your game face on."
"Flex your can-do muscle."
"Let's hear your battle cry."
"Seize the day."

All that advice on one wrapper!  Better than a fortune cookie!  On to the next:
"Be resilient."
"Fire up those engines!"
"Go for it."
"Get back in there champ!"

All right!  I feel so much better!  I may start carrying these things around with me as my own personal trainer/coach.  The Halls advantage.  Watch out world, I'm pumped!

Lessons From A Toddler

I don't normally post things about my immediate family members, but I may have to start doing that because it turns out I'm learning some interesting things from my grandaughter.  She may hate me for talking about her on the internet someday, but for now she's only 21 months old, and I figure it'll be at least another three years before she can spit in my eye with any accuracy, so there's nothing to stop me.

So, here's her latest coping mechanism.  When life gets too frustrating, or plain boring, and pitching a screaming fit would be too much of a bother, she throws herself on the floor and lies there.  Perfectly still.  Like a chalk outline from a murder scene.  And expressionless, because there is no known facial expression for the depth of her ennui.

Since grandmothers are genetically wired to fix any sign of despair in their grandchildren (unlike parents, who might see this as an opportunity for a quick nap), I kneel beside her prone body with concern.  "Oh no!  Is she broken?" I ask. 

No response from the victim.  I tenderly lift one floppy arm and move it around.  "Nothing wrong here.  How about this one?"  I flex the other limp arm.  "No, not here either." 

By now I'm getting an interested blink or two.  I move on.  "How about this leg?  No, it looks fine.  How about the other one?  Nope, that's okay, too." 

Is that little facial twitch a smile?  "How about her head?"  I gently stroke her whispy hair, checking for giant fissures in her skull.  "No, thank goodness!  How about her back?"

By now she's ready to smile at the probing fingers that tickle her back and creep around to her tummy.  And presto, she's all better.  Seconds later, she's on her feet, grinning with delight, showing me that she wasn't broken after all.

And you know what?  I think I want someone to do that for me every once in a while.  Not literally, but figuratively sounds good, doesn't it?

I need to start paying closer attention to that kid, because she might know way more  about life than I thought she did.

My First Love

Me:   Hey, The Voyage Home is on the Scy-fy channel now!
My husband:  You can't see that one too many times.

The best part - he was totally serious.  This explains why our marriage has lasted so many years.

Just Add Drugs

This scratching post sat on our landing for the past three months, sadly ignored by all 9 cats who are in and out of the house. 








Today I sprinkled dried catnip on it.  Two minutes later:

 "Where did this thing come from?  It's SO MUCH FUN!"

Writing Dirty Books

I know several people who write erotic romance, both straight and gay stories.  Their sex scenes are, um, let's say explicit.  Terminology is raw, with lots of oportunities to make use of it.  Nudge, nudge.

By comparison, my sex scenes are tame.  You might have to read 100 pages before you find one.  Maybe 200!  I'll tell you what happens, but the emphasis will be on their emotions.  Romance, you know?  Then again, if you're used to reading Dan Brown or Sue Grimshaw, the scenes are a bit lively.  So let's say I write sexy romance.

But that's winthin the romance writing community.  Outside of it, definitions are a bit less exact.

Scene:  I am introduced to my neighbor's adult son, who is visiting.

Neighbor:  This is our neighbor, Starr.
Me: (shaking his hand)  Hi.
Neighbor:  Starr's the one who writes the dirty books.
Me:  Well, they're not really...
Son:   Oh, you're the one!

Sigh.  I guess that's me - the one who writes dirty books.