January has given way to February.
Valentines isn’t far away and before you know it, it will be Christmas and 2017!
Okay, that may be rushing things a little, but the older I get, the faster time goes by and 2016 is steadily marching on.
On Monday Mike was outside, I was inside. It was mid-morning and I was getting some things around for an early lunch. It’s been a long time since we’ve had tuna, let’s have tuna, I thought and opened the cupboard door for a can.
Do you guys do that too? Do you go in cycles with your food? We might have tuna, for instance, for lunch a couple of times a week for months, then it might be months until we have tuna again. Does that happen to you?
I set the tuna can on the counter and dug in the drawer for the can opener. I’ve been using an old can opener that Momma gave me when she moved to Arizona and not only do I think of Momma every time I pull it out of the drawer, I love that thing too. It’s not like the new kind that wear out. I bet you could pick up this can opener in a hundred years and it would still work just fine.
Molly, our thirteen-year-old calico, used to come running whenever she heard the can opener. She loves tuna water and there have been times I’ve had to apologize because I wasn’t opening tuna and she’d tell me about it too!
I put the opener on the can, squeezed the handles together and started tuning the crank. No Molly. Had it been so long since we’d had it that she’s forgotten about tuna water? Was she too far away to hear it? Maybe this can opener doesn’t make the same sound as the other ones and she doesn’t recognize it. Whatever the reason I didn’t want her to miss out. “MOLLY!” I called. Crank-crank on the crank and the can goes round. “MOLLY YOU WANT SOME TUNA WATER!”
“MEOW?” I looked up and there was Molly on the steps of the RV. She had been inside. “MEOW?” she says again.
I was shocked. I know I called her, but I never expected her to answer. “You want some tuna water?” I asked again and finished opening the can. Molly came running, talking to me the whole time. I got a saucer from the cupboard, drained the water and set it down for her. Now it was survival of the fittest. Ginger and Itsy like tuna water too.
My phone rang. I fished it from my pocket and looked at the ID. It was Mike.
“Yeah, babe.”
“You should come out and see this moon.”
“Okay,” I said and hung up. I left the tuna on the counter with the lid on it and went out to look. The moon was beautiful and the birds were gliding on the currents and when I saw them together, I went back in and grabbed my camera. And that my loves, is how I came to get this photo which is my current desktop photo.
One more note about Molly before we move on.
Since the death of Baby Blue a month ago Molly has been yowling. I was hoping she would get over it but it continues. I don’t know what to do for her.
<<<<<>>>>>
We had another mild week here in mid Missouri. Lots of 50’s and 60’s and I’ve be enjoying afternoon walks with the girls.
Sometimes my winter flowers aren’t flowers at all but a dried leaf draped over a vine.
The ducks heard us coming and took flight.
Not this Canadian goose, though. He got up from where he was sunning himself and waddled into the shallows but he refused to fly away. Honestly, I tried not to scare him. We went past as quickly and quietly as we could and looking over my shoulder I saw him go back up on the shore.
Even the turtles were taking advantage of the warm temps and basking in the sun.
I heard this red-headed woodpecker long before I spotted him.
I know where the dumping ground is for our city when they have to pick up and dispose of dead critters. There have been two recent deer additions and nature’s cleaners are working on them.
Another day I made the trip out to the old schoolhouse, looking for antlers.
I didn’t find any.
At this point I usually turn around and go back out to Valley Road and the campground below the dam but I haven’t had any luck with eagles lately. Either there haven’t been any there at all or they weren’t in a good spot for me to photograph.
So on this beautiful day, deep blue skies overhead, I decide to follow the road and go past the old schoolhouse.
I don’t go this way very often and never in the spring or summer. One spring day a couple of years ago, I took this route and half way through I had ticks crawling all over me! But at that point what could I do but press on. What a nightmare! Never again!
And poor Ginger! I worked a long time picking ticks off of her.
“What about Itsy?” you ask.
She doesn’t walk much so I was carrying her.
But this day I wasn’t in danger of picking up any hitchhikers and I was enjoying the day and the walk, so I went on.
There are a couple of ponds back in this area that I knew where there but had never seen. “I used to fish in those ponds,” a neighbor told me. “Pulled some big ones out too!”
Yeah. I want to see the ponds, I decided. “Ginger!” I called. She stopped. “Let’s go this way.” She came trotting back and when her nose picked up the deer path I was standing in front of, she happily wound her way through.
She’s short and things like overhanging branches and brambles don’t bother her much, nor the deer either, I guess. I had to bully my way through or stoop under them.
Once in a while Ginger will take a path that I can’t and I have to call her back. She obediently follows her lead back to me and I direct her on a new path. “Go that way,” and she seems to know what I want her to do. She really is a good little dog. Funny too. We get to the waters edge and she never slows down as she walks right in and gets her feet wet. I’m surprised at that size of this pond.
I let Ginger wade around a little as I listen to the sounds around me and check the trees for birds.
Nothing that I could spot but I took a picture for you anyway.
I call Ginger. “Com’on. Let’s go,” and we follow the trail back to the old, seldom-used road.
We walked on for a little ways and I see the other pond through the trees. As I walk along I look for another deer path but didn’t see anything. I spot what looks like a way through the underbrush and I call Ginger. She always walks ahead of me. She came back and we picked our way to the edge of the pond and this time Ginger didn’t go in.
This pond was much smaller than the other one but I was happy to get to see it anyway.
I turned to go and see these berries hanging. I was surprised because I didn’t think there were any left. I thought the birds had already gotten them all. I haven’t seen any berries in months.
We didn’t stay at this pond very long and went back out to the road. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of steps when I spot this.
A round rock? A cannon ball? I wonder. I was half right. On closer inspection I discovered it was a child’s old rubber ball!
We are nearing the end of the road. Up ahead is an old abandoned house, one an Indian used to live in, I was told. I start to notice that I’m seeing a lot of vultures. One in a tree here. Two in a tree over there. Here comes one in for a landing. Then I see the roof of the old house is covered with a whole herd of vultures just basking in the sunshine. I tried to get a picture but because of all the trees it didn’t work out. I knew it wouldn’t but it didn’t stop me from trying. I was hoping as I got closer I would get a better shot.
We keep walking and the vultures stir, then take flight. There goes one, then another and then three and four and it was like an avalanche gaining momentum as half the herd took off. In the next breath they were all gone. I never got a worthwhile shot.
Up ahead, where the road curves to the right and goes up to School Road I see an old tree with an old boat underneath. I was far enough away that the vultures there weren’t yet alarmed and I had a clear shot. I snapped a couple of pictures. I hadn’t gone more than a few more steps when, by one’s and two’s, they started to take flight.
And that was it.
They were all gone and the sky was full of black faced vultures.
Next time I’ll come down from School Road, I think. I know if I come that way, I’ll have a clear, treeless shot of the rooftop.
I round the corner and head up the rain-rutted nearly non-existent driveway. At the top and on School Road, I see a frog in the opposing yard.
Cute, I think and snap a picture.
Mid-week Kathryn comes and we make owls together.
This is only the second time Kathryn has made anything. The first time there was only one piece and her lesson was in cutting and foiling. This time she would have to solder pieces together and make pretty seams. To make it a little easier we glued the eyes and nose on hers. At the end she was pleased with her creation. “Next time we will tackle a dragonfly,” I tell her.
“That’ll be good, my mom likes dragonflies.”
Late week I made the walk to the old schoolhouse again, this time going in from School Road in hopes of catching the vultures congregated on the rooftop of the old house.
Hey! There’s a pinecone!
Last fall I saw a project on the computer that used pinecones and the very next time I walked down Valley Road I looked at all the pine trees looking for cones and there was NOT.
ONE.
SINGLE.
PINECONE!
Lots of pine trees! No cones!
Oh. Wait. I guess that means they weren’t pine trees doesn’t it.
I never dreamed pinecones could be so hard to find and now I don’t remember what the project was.
Lots of people live on School Road and since it was nice out they had their dogs tied out.
This handsome young guy barked and barked as we walked past.
The neighbor lady climbed up on a log and added her voice to his.
I turned down the old driveway and I was prepared to take a photo had the vultures been there.
They weren’t.
We go on down the road and I don’t bother going to the ponds this time.
The old schoolhouse comes into view.
It looks different, I think and snap a few pictures but we don’t pause for long.
We get to the field with Valley Road just on the other side and rather than continue on the dirt road, we take a shortcut through the field.
Ginger alerts on an armadillo but doesn’t bark. Itsy doesn’t see it or she would have. The dillo doesn’t see us as he roots around for bugs and he’s zigzagging back and forth coming closer and closer to us. I stop and wonder how close he’ll come before he notices us.
Ginger sits and intently watches but doesn’t lunge or bark.
Itsy finally notices him and barks. I quickly shush her and she is wound up tighter than an eight day clock. She sits on my arm and vibrates with excitement. I knew she couldn’t control herself for long and she doesn’t. She barks again and the dillo, hearing her, heads off. That was fine by me, I was tired of watching him anyway. It was late enough by then that we didn’t even go into the campground. We call it a day and head for home.
And with that we will call these adventures - and this letter - done.
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