A Visitor

          We had a visitor!

          A masked visitor!

          I went out to feed the cats one morning and this guy was lazing in the lap of luxury. There probably aren't a lot of blankets out there in the wild.

          "Hey buddy," I cooed softly when I spotted him.

          He just looked at me and didn't seem concerned at all. I went about feeding the cats and changing their drinking water then I left.

          Later in the day I checked on him. I approached quietly but he must've heard me because he was looking at me as I peeked in on him. I wasn't surprised he was still there. Raccoons are nocturnal so he'll sleep all day. But if he'd have been there the next morning I would've gotten the broom and shooed him out. More than one night and his welcome would've been worn out.

          "MOM!" I hear my beautiful daughter Kat exclaim. "Raccoons carry diseases! You shouldn't let them around your animals!"

          Kat was studying to be a Vet Tech and she did scold me. It's been several years ago now. We lived on the Strip in Lake Ozark and had one of these little bandits climbing over the fence, up the stairs, and eating the leftover cat food I had there for the ferals. I know she's right. They can carry rabies and roundworms. I just don't have the heart to do anything other than let him have a meal and a day's rest. Besides, I can't stop them coming and going in the night. They, and the opossums, come right in the cat door. I do try to limit the food I put out to just what the cats will eat during the day — with maybe just a tiny bit leftover.

          "Peg, you could close the cat door at night," you suggest.

          Yes. Yes, I could. But I'm afraid of one of the cats being on the wrong side when it's locked then not being able to escape a fox. That and I have two feral toms that come and go as they please. Mr. Mister and Jerry. And for the same reason, I don't want to lock them out. One of these days they'll be gone, our two outside girls will be gone, and I won't have to worry about it anymore.

          "Peg, I've seen all your other cats but I've never seen Jerry," my friend Jody told me.

          This is Jerry, on the left. He wheezes when he breathes. He's had his leg broken to where it was sideways and healed with no medical care. Jerry does not want to be touched. I respect his space and gave up trying to touch him years ago.

          Callie and Sugar are on the right. These two girls often times sleep one on top of the other. The shelf where they're laying, about eye level, stays around 40 degrees, even on the coldest of winter days. Mike ran a furnace run into the cat room.

          It seems like we did a lot of running this week. I think we went someplace every day which is unusual for us. A lot of weeks we may never go beyond a single trip to town for milk. So I did get some road pictures for you.

  

          Taking pictures of emergency vehicles we pass is just something I do. Don't ask me why.

          "Why, Peg?" you ask anyway.

          I don't know.

          What is this cop doing? Measuring the distance the tire sticks out? Is there a law for that?

          All of Mike's years in trucking has left him no love of the DOT. "A trash truck! Really!"

          They seem to sit here, in Wyalusing at the old mill site, quite a lot on nice days.

          What is Quillo? I Googled it but didn't find out anything useful. I can't read the sign beyond the word 'great'.

          A toy, sitting all alone, in the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere.

          This is Spring Lake. Back in 1983 they found the skeleton of a woolly mammoth here. Carnegie Museum headed up the dig and later it was dubbed the most important excavation in Pennsylvania history.

          They found many parts of the skeleton but only bits and pieces of a broken tusk. It wasn't until they were ready to close the dig that the other tusk was found — in perfect shape and ten foot long!

  

          I don't know if they raise deer here or rehab them. It was empty the last time I went past but I see they have a few deer now.

  

             Not much left of the cab of this truck.

          Wendy's has rolled out a new breakfast sandwich, have you heard? Mike did. "I'd like to try it," he told me.

          We had an early appointment to see the tax guy and that was the perfect chance for us to try one. Mike got the Baconator on a bun.

            I got sausage egg on a croissant.

          "How's yours?" I asked.

          "Good. How's yours?"

          "Good. Here have a bite," I offered. I thought he might like the croissant better than the bun he had.

          "No. Have a bite of mine," and he shoved his sandwich at me.

          "You take a bite of mine, and I'll take a bite of yours."

          Mike took a tiny little sissy bite. "Oh no!" I called him out on it. "You gotta take a real bite!"

          "After you," he said. I knew how that would go. I'd take a bite then he wouldn't.

          "Nope. After you."

          I know, right! We fight about the silliest things!

          We exchanged bites — regular size bites, and he liked his better and I liked mine better.

  

          Speaking of food, I made something this week that I don't make very often.

          "What's that?" you ask.

          That would be a pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and celery.

          "Peg, I don't see any celery there," you say.

          I know, right! I only put two stalks in and I made Mike eat them. I don't like cooked celery.

          We like pot roast but chuck roast has gotten so expensive. We found it on sale and we'll get four meals out of it so it's not too bad that way. But the thing I want to tell you is pot roast always makes me think of my beautiful mother. I would always invite her to come over for pot roast — I'd even go get her, because she loved it too. Slow cooking the roast for eight hours made it nice and fork-tender. Momma'd use the broth from the roast as gravy for her potato. I can still see her getting her plate ready, taking a bite of beef, closing her eyes, lifting her chin, and saying, "Mmmmm" as she savored it.

          I guess what I'm really trying to say is, I still miss my mother — and my daughter! I still miss her too.

          On a recent trip to Towanda I spot this eagle on the corner of a building. If I ever knew it was there, I'd forgotten.

          Speaking of birds, the Chickadees are a brave little bird. I have two feeders I fill and put out every morning. The Chickadees are on the feeder almost as soon as my hands are off of it.

          I wouldn't care if the coons ate the leftover seeds at the end of the day, the birds don't leave much, but they drop the feeders to the ground and break them. So I bring them in every night. Plus, if there are any seeds at all left in the feeders I end up dropping a few on the back patio — no matter how careful I am — and that feeds the mouse family living under a board out there.

          Gotta spread the wealth, don'cha know.

          A crow.

          The finches are starting to get their color.

          Oh my gosh! Look at this beautiful and special lady. Making wreaths is something Karen likes to do just like making suncatchers is something I like to do. I gave her a suncatcher and she made a wreath special for me! I think I got the better end of that deal! I owe her like ten suncatchers now!

          And with that, let's call this one...

          "Wait! Waitwait! Peg, you didn't talk about the bridge at all this week," you say.

          I know, right! We did go down and check out the progress and the day we were there they were driving piles. As the branches in the foreground of this picture attests to, there just isn't anyplace for us to sit and watch where we're out of the work zone. So basically, I had to sneak a peek from the trees!

          Remember — you are all in my heart.

          Let's call this one done!