But now I have a pine branch, covered in freshly fallen snow up on there right now.
I spent a good part of my free time this week making copper bracelets.
When I posted a picture of the first one I made on Facebook, my cute little red haired sister (who just turned another year older — happy birthday again sister dear) commented, “You made this?”
I know right! She said that with a tone of disbelief in her voice; did you hear it that way too? But I was flattered, not offended. I posted that I had. She called me later that evening and told me how beautiful she thought it was. She never asked for me to make her one, but I totally knew I wanted to.
The next morning in my daily love note from my beautiful little sister Phyllis, she commented, “The wire work you did was beautiful and interesting.”
I smiled. The only way she could have seen it was on Facebook. “Play your cards right and I may make you one…if you want one that is.”
“I’d love one,” she responded. “But I’m a lousy card player.”
On our weekly shopping trip last week, Mike bought me some copper in the proper gauges. I made this one for Diane. The copper I used for the center braid is a little more red than the rest of the copper in the bracelet. As you can see, it is more dainty than the first one I made.
I kind of like the clunkier one better, I thought. I wonder if they would too. So I emailed them. “As long as I’m making you one, it might just as well be one you want. Do you want dainty or clunky?”
They both picked dainty. Go figure.
I found some permanently colored copper wire in a purple to make the center braid for Phyllis’s bracelet.
And it was while making this one that I ran into a problem.
I don’t have a lot of tools for working with something as delicate as permanently colored copper wire. I think you must need to have at least one pair of pliers with nylon covered jaws because my pliers took some of the color off the permanently colored copper wire.
Hmmm.
Now what?
Purple nail polish?
Remake Phyllis one with a plain copper center?
Let me ask her…
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
She may change her mind when she gets it…
Just sayin’.
<<<<<>>>>>
We did just a few small jobs in our renovation project this past week. We installed recess lighting and diffusers for the furnace. We are drawing our cold air from the floor so the diffusers are in the ceiling. Besides, it was just easier to install our furnace runs in the ceiling.Mike also trimmed around the transom window. We’ll put the bottom trim on after the floor is done.
We also put in my kitchen over-the-sink window too.
The back of the mill has a nice courtyard area where I can put in a few flowers and maybe some herbs too; a wrought iron patio table and chairs will make it the perfect place to have morning coffee — in the summer.
Right now it is cold here.
The days continue to get shorter until the winter solstice on December 21st — the shortest day of the year.
Did you know that the winter solstice is actually a specific point in time and not a day?
No?
It’s when the sun is exactly overhead the Tropic of Capricorn and for us, here in eastern time, it will be at 5:44 AM.
Something I hadn’t known is that this event can happen on December 20th, 21st, 22nd or the 23rd. I thought it was always on the 21st! The web page I’m looking at says that December 20th or 23rd solstices are rare and the last December 23rd solstice was in 1903 and will not happen again until 2303. I’m probably not going to be around for that one, however, with God, anything is possible. I’d only be 344 years old. LOL.
How about one more interesting fact before we move on?
Did you know (and I didn’t), that the term solstice comes from the Latin word solstitium, meaning ‘the sun stands still’? This is because on this day the sun reaches it’s southern-most position as seen from the earth. The sun seems to stand still and then reverses it’s direction. It is also common to call it the day the sun turns around.
And the winter solstice is also the first day of astronomical winter.
Okay, that was two more things but I bet you knew that last little tidbit because I did.
Boy, did I ever take a detour there! Not at all what I had intended to write about. I was going to say that because the days are shorter, many times when I take the girls out for their morning constitution, it’s still dark out. But one morning, after some newly fallen snow, it was light enough that I took my camera with me, intending to get some pictures for you.
This is our Mountain Home with the sunrise in the background.
I walked Itsy and Ginger down around the pond and the kittens, as usual, followed us. I was the whole way on the other side of the pond when I look up and see Spitfire coming across the pond to me.
Sigh.
I was scared for him. I didn’t know how thick the ice was and I didn’t want to see him fall through. Maybe if I get back around to the other side he’ll come back off the ice, I thought.
I hurried on.
Spitfire meowed when he lost sight of me.
If he falls in, would I go in and rescue him? I wondered. He’s a cat; in some people’s eyes, they have no value. But in my eyes, all life has value — even a cat! Why risk your life for an animal? No risk here folks. The biggest risk to me would be I’d get my feet wet and cold. Our pond isn’t very deep.
I doubled back and Spitfire was in the middle of the pond. “Com’on kitty,” I called in a sing-songy voice.
“Meow,” Spitfire answered.
As he approached my side of the pond, I could finally breathe again.
Ginger sees him coming and goes down the bank to greet him. I wasn’t worried if she broke through the ice here at the edge; it would probably only go up to her ankles here, but she was on a leash anyway and I could haul her out.
Itsy, wondering what was going on, made her way down to the ice too and gave Spitfire a little talkin’ to! Yeah, she growled at him.
Spitfire, used to Itsy’s attitude, ignored her, turned and found a piece of cattail to bat around on the ice. I watched him chase it for a while.
I love all of our kittens. I love them in all their uniqueness and quirkiness.
Rascal rubs on my legs and if I don’t pet him, he’ll nip me.
Feisty is more reticent but occasionally wants me to pick her up and love on her.
And Cleo, Smudge’s sister and cousin to the other three, is a bit standoffish too, but lets me pick her up and love on her. One odd thing about Cleo though is I’ve never heard her purr. Never. Not once.
But Spitfire is my favorite.
When I took Itsy and Ginger out for our pre-bedtime walk one night last week, the kittens heard me and came through the cat flap in the side of the garage, just like they almost always do. I can’t say always because if it is especially cold, they won’t come out. But on this night, great big, fat, fluffy flakes of snow were lazily drifting from the sky in the quietness of the night. The outside light made it a beautiful sight and I walked the girls a little way into the yard, the snow crunching under my feet. As I stood there waiting for Ginger to find just the right spot, Spitfire started chasing snowflakes. It tickled me and I laughed right out loud. Have you ever watched a kitten chase snowflakes?
No?
I highly recommend it.
The weirdest thing happened to me that night. When I went to come back inside, the door was locked. For just a split second I wondered why Mike would lock me out, then I realized he wouldn’t. He didn’t. I locked myself out. I couldn’t believe it. I actually tried the door a couple of times before I determined it wasn’t just stuck. Even locked the door will open just a crack. I peaked in. Yep, there was the hook in the eye.
I know. That’s quite a secure locking system we have on that door, but it’s just the lock on the breezeway. We have another lock on our inner door — but that wasn’t getting me back inside!
“How do you lock yourself out when it’s just a hook and an eye?” you wonder.
I know right! Weird. And what makes it all the more strange is the hook and eye don’t line up quite right. If the door is shut the whole way, you can’t lock it. You have to unlatch it, lock it, then give it a tug to latch.
When I went out, I flipped the hook out of the eye and it must have landed straight up against the door frame and it came down at just the right second that it slipped into the eye before I had the door latched.
Never — in a million years! — would I ever have believed I could lock myself out of that door. Never.
“How did you get back in?” you ask.
I contemplated knocking on the door until Mike came out to investigate; I didn’t have my phone with me to call him. Then it hit me. Go in through the overhead garage door! I punched the code in and the door opened.
“Why are you coming in the back door?” Mike asked.
“I locked myself out!”
The very next day Mike and I were going out together and as I was in the lead, I flipped the hook out of the eye and went out the door first.
“You can’t leave it like that Peg,” Mike said.
I turned to see what he was talking about and he was pointing at the hook. It did indeed land in a straight up position so I guess it’s just a wonder I haven’t locked myself out long before this!
Now, speaking of weird things and strange occurrences…
I went out one morning to feed my kitties and there in the cat room were chicken bones. It’s been a couple of weeks since I put chicken bones out for the cats but maybe they found some in a corner someplace that I missed picking up.
Then a few days later a ham bone shows up.
A ham bone!
“Mike, there’s a ham bone out in the cat room. Where do you think it came from?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
I know I didn’t put it out for them. “Do you think they drug it across the road from Charlie and Sally’s?” I asked but he didn’t know that either.
Then I got to thinking that maybe Lamar Kipp brought it up for them, so I asked Lamar the next time I saw him.
“No. It wasn’t me. Maybe it was the Robinson’s?” he suggested.
“Uh-uh. They toss their scraps in the yard for their critters.”
So now I’m back to thinking one of them drug it home from the neighbors across the road.
But a ham bone! I guess if they can carry a rabbit, they can carry a ham bone.
>>>>><<<<<
That cat!
That darn cat!
Yeah! We’re talkin’ bout that Smudge!
We have steps in front of the couch for the girls to get on and off the couch with. These little dogs can blow out their knees by jumping.
Smudge took a nap while sitting on the top step.
Crazy kitty!
A couple of you have suggested a water bottle to help me with my problem of him getting up on the table but I don’t want to be squirting water around the computers and papers that live there. We have found that Smudge has a healthy respect for a fly swatter though. All he had to do was see me reach for it and he was off like a shot!
Now don’t go getting like all, “ANIMAL ABUSE!” on me. I’d never hurt an animal. In fact, just the thought repulses me. I would just swat around him, hitting the table top or counter top and never really hitting him.
Smudge.
He’s just too smart for me.
It only took him about two weeks to figure this out then he decided he wasn’t so afraid of the fly swatter after all. Instead of getting off the table, he climbed up inside the lamp. I couldn’t help but smile despite myself.
“Mike, Smudge has worn me out. I give up. Let’s just clean the table off and not worry about it anymore.”
And now Smudge has discovered my trash can. Even though I give him every single butter wrapper or pizza box to lick clean before I toss them, he had to get in there and check it out for himself. And if I know Smudge, I know that no matter how many times I yell at him, chase him with the swatter or physically remove him, he won’t stay out of it now.
Smudge is just like an unruly teen. If he thinks you don’t want him to do something — he wants to do it all the more!
So now, thanks to Smudge, my trash can has a lid on it, albeit a homemade one. My roasting pan now lives on top of my trash can and if I want to use it, I get to wash it twice — once before and then again after.
Thanks Smudge!
And with that, we shall call this one done!
No comments:
Post a Comment