As Much Time

          As much time as I put into taking pictures during the week. As much time as it takes to sort through all the hundreds of photographs I’ve taken during the week. As much time as it takes to make those pictures ready for my letter blog. And lastly, as much time as it takes to write the letter blog. I have to say, I love it. I love it all. It appeals to my sense of creativity as much as any of my other endeavors do.

Speaking of endeavors…

I tried something new. I alluded to it in my morning love note one morning this week, so I know some of you are waiting to see what I’ve been up to.

Those kind, beautiful, thoughtful neighbors of ours, the Kipps, gifted us with two shoeboxes of miscellaneous hardware.  

Miss Rosie was out antiquing and picked up someone’s old hardware cabinet to repurpose as her jewelry box. The drawers were fully loaded with nuts and bolts, screws and fasteners, nails and hangers, and Lamar had no use for any of that stuff. He offered it to us and we accepted.

So, this week I brought the boxes in from the garage and put together a little dog.

I used a mixture of metals and thought it might look better if it was all one color so I broke out the copper patina. Unfortunately, that wasn’t all I broke. I broke his head off and had to re-solder it. I washed and re-patinaed him. Unfortunately, unfortunately, while wiping off the excess patina, I broke his leg off.

Sigh.

All of the soldering and re-soldering left him looking less than neat but here he is.

He needs a coat of polish but I’m afraid of breaking him again.

Don’t judge. It was my first one.

My last Monarch was born this week. A male. This time I put him in a tree and hoped the cats wouldn’t get him. When I checked on him later he was gone. I searched the ground, just in case, but didn’t find him. I hope he can find food. There isn’t much left around here. And I hope he makes it to Mexico.

I went back through my letter blogs and took a count. I had nineteen Monarchs emerge from chrysalises. Eight males and eleven females. I didn’t count the failures.

A late-blooming knapweed with a bumbler on it.

Some weeks we don’t go anywhere. This week was not one of them. Early in the week we took a ride over to Towanda to drop off our ballots.

Going through the rocks.

Claverack pond. Claverack’s our electric company and the place my beautiful cousin Stacey works.

The Red Rose Diner. We only ate there once and it’s a cool place. But Mike didn’t really care to watch him cook our burgers, there at the grill, behind the counter. It’s been closed for a while now.

Someone in the courthouse has a toy collection on display.

“Those are all solar-powered bobbleheads,” my beautiful friend Jody said when I showed her the picture on my camera.

I hadn’t realized that.

“How did you happen to come to be showing Jody the pictures on your camera?” you ask.

Patience, my love. I’ll get to that.

While in Towanda we stopped at the Area Agency on Aging to review Mike’s Medicare plan.

“We’re not doing in-office interviews,” the lady told us. “We’re taking appointments for phone interviews only.”

“Okay,” Mike replied. “Can I get an appointment?”

The lady left the window and came back with her appointment book and a sheaf of papers. “October 30^th is the first opening I have.”

“I’ll take it,” Mike said.

She wrote his name in the book, his appointment date and time on the papers and slid them through a slot under the window. “Fill these out and get them back to us before your appointment. It’ll help us find the best plan for you.”

We thanked her and left.

Crossing the Rainbow Bridge, heading home.

Mike parked in the garage. My arms were full as we headed for the door and he opened it for me, pushing it in and turning on the light. I went past him, through the dining room, and what do I see?

“Tiger has a mouse!” I exclaimed.

I dumped my armload of stuff on the table and took a picture.

Tiger.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger!

There must be a learning curve to catching and keeping your prey, that’s all I can say!

Tiger set the mouse down, releasing him from his jaws, and the mouse took off.

A paw slapped on his tail stops him. The mouse waits for an opportunity to escape and as soon Tiger eases his hold, he took off again.

Tiger.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger!

“GET HIM TIGER!” I scream. Not scream like EEK! THERE’S A MOUSE! scream. But definitely with some urgency. I could see where that mouse was going and Tiger just watched him go. At the last second, just before the mouse slipped behind my rolltop desk, Tiger took off after him. Needless to say, it was too late. He’d made a clean getaway.

“Tiger probably put some holes in him,” Mike said when I told him the mouse had gotten away.

Anywho, we live in the country. I don’t think it’s possible to make a house totally mouse proof. Even if you could, they’d just chew their own little doorways in.

“Peg, why don’t you set traps?” you wanna know.

Normally I do. But Tiger was small enough that he got into the places where I’d set the traps and I worried he’d break a paw. But he’s getting big enough now that I can set my traps again. That’s on my list of stuff to do this coming week.

While we’re on the subject of Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, he regularly patrols the kitchen patio for mice. He’s trying to wait one out here.

And birds.

Tiger makes the birds work for whatever seeds they get. I don’t know if he’s ever gotten a bird this way. Most of the birds are smart enough to fly away before he gets very close.

One of the roots we’d dug from the yard had a natural crook in it. Mike put it up as a bird perch for me. Well, for the birds. They often like to land someplace before making their way to the feeder.

I looked out my kitchen window and saw Tiger up on the perch. He thinks that’s the perfect place to wait for birds. The birds, however, won’t land when he’s there.

Every morning, when I’m making food for the cats…

“You make food for the cats!” you exclaim.

I do. I buy two flavors of dry cat food. One is for the free-food bowl. The other is what I use to make breakfast with. What I do is heat up a cup of water in the microwave and pour it over a scoop of dry food. Once it’s soaked for a little while I’ll mix in a can of soft cat food. That’s how you feed nine cats on one five-and-a-half-ounce can of wet food — even though we only have six cats now.

Tiger.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.

He thinks it’s special food. So, when he hears me scooping it out, he comes running, stops in front of me, and looks up with expectant eyes.

“You want some of this?” I asked and set a dish down for him.

And now it’s a habit. He’s usually done by the time I come back through from feeding the outside cats, so I’ll pick up the bowl and toss it back in the bag.

One morning I bent down to pick it up and something white and gleaming catches my eye.

What in the world? I thought. A piece of bone?

Upon further inspection I see it’s a baby tooth. Tiger lost a baby tooth. I don’t know that I’ve ever found one of these before.

Look at these soulful eyes, would ya!

Some weeks back, when it was especially nice outside, I left the kitchen door and screen open as I worked on my computer.

Mr. Mister came in the house, got past me, went through the dining room, around the corner, through the bedroom, around another corner, and into the bathroom.

“Peg!” Mike yelled. “Mr. Mister’s on my sink!”

It was the third time he’d come into the house but the other times I caught him before he’d gotten very far. Now he sits and stares at me through the kitchen door.

“Why don’t you let him in?” you ask.

Heck no! He’s not fixed and the last thing I want is for him to claim my stuff as his own, aka, spray. Besides, he fights with Smudge and this is Smudge’s house.

 A walk around here nets you only two photos this week. This one of a leaf.

And the door to the exercise studio. Mike painted it this week. He’s been working inside, taking boards off and getting it cleaned up and ready to insulate. But I’m afraid it’s going to be a long time till it’s ready.

We made a second trip to Towanda to return the completed paperwork to the Area Agency on Aging. Mike took the back roads so I could make pictures for you.

The school kids painted the windows along the main street for Halloween. I took a bunch of pictures but I’ll spare you and only show two.

And two more I took on the way home.

My biggest adventure this week came in the form of a girl’s trip with my best girl Jody.

“I have to take Mick to Cornell. You wanna go with me?” she asked.

Mick is her German Short Hair Pointer and he’s been suffering with allergies for a few months now. His poor feet get so swollen and tender he won’t even allow Jody to touch them. He gets skin rashes and infected ears too. The local vets are at their wits end as to how to treat him so they suggested she take him to Cornell University.

“You can take road pictures.”

Does she know me or what! I was in.

Is this what you do with old tires? Make a fence? 

We saw the red roof of this barn a mile away. It really stood out.

We chatted quite a lot on the way up to Cornell in New York. Actually, I think I did most of the chatting and Jody did the most listening. She’s a good friend.

Mick is a vocal dog and talked quite a lot on the trip too. Mostly I treated him as white noise and he didn’t bother me. Once in a while I’d reach back and stroke his face or scratch his chest. When I tried to pull my hand away, he’d grab my arm with his paw. I smiled. He didn’t want me to stop. Then he’d stick his head over my shoulder so I took a selfie with him. He’s such a handsome guy.

We arrived a half hour ahead of the appointed time. You take one of the numbered parking spots, call them on the phone and tell them which spot you’re in. When it’s your turn, they come and get your pet, take him in for the examination, call you with the results, exact payment over the phone, then bring your pet back out.

While waiting I was showing Jody some of the pictures from my camera and that’s when the toy collection had come up.

“I should give Mick a drink,” Jody said and looked around for a cup.

“Here,” I said. “You can use the lid from my Thermos.”

“Thermos?” you say.

Yep. I like my own coffee and often take a Thermos of it with me on road trips. Since I pour my coffee into my travel mug and never use the cup, it was available for Mick to use. Otherwise, Jody would’ve poured water into her cupped palm and given him a drink that way.

Speaking of coffee… “I could really pee,” I told Jody. “Think they’d let me use the restroom?”

“I doubt it but you could ask.”

When the vet-tech came to take Mick in, I did ask. “Can I, by any chance, use your restroom?”

“I’m sorry. You can’t.”

“It took us almost two hours to get here and I drank too much coffee. Have mercy on this old woman, won’t you?” I begged.

She laughed a little. “I’d really like to but I’d get fired. I can tell you where you can go though.”

She gave us directions and while Mick was seeing the doc, we did a little sight seeing of our own.

“Look at that building,” Jody said and pointed.

“I see it.” I said as I clicked away. “I wonder what it is.” I’m thinking old church.

The light changed and Jody moved with the traffic. Her blinker said we were making a right, passing in front of whatever this is.

A tire and restroom sign gave me a clue. “It’s an old gas station!” The canopy where the pumps used to be was a better indicator but I only had eyes for the building.

“I hope that cop doesn’t think I was taking pictures of him,” I told Jody.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright,” she assured me.

We found our way onto the university campus and gawked at the amazing architecture. Both new…

 And old.

 “I wonder how much it costs to go here.” I mused.

“A lot!” Jody said.

Then I remembered that with today’s technology, I could find out. I pulled out my phone and asked Google. “Seventy-six thousand two hundred fifty-eight dollars!” I read Google’s answer.

The clouds were moving in as we made our way back to the small-animal clinic on a different corner of campus. This place is huge! Two thousand three hundred acres!

“We need to talk,” I told Jody as we waited for them to be finished with Mick.

“Okay,” Jody said. I don’t think she was too worried about what I might have to say.

“We’re good friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are,” she agreed.

“As such, we can always tell each other the truth, can’t we?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I made you something. If you don’t like ‘em or don’t want ‘em, for heaven’s sake, just say so. I’ll give them to someone else who does want them.” Then, out of my bag, I pulled a face mask.

A beautiful smile graced her face. “I love it!” she said.

Then, to her astonishment, I pulled out another and another until I’d given her all five I’d made for her — ten if you take into consideration that they’re reversible.

“We’re going to say this rainbow is God’s promise to never flood the world again,” I said after handing it to her, “and not the symbol of the LGBTQ movement.”

“I love them all,” Jody said.

“Good. Now here’s the part where you gotta be honest with me. I pulled a matching ear saver from my bag. “I made matching ear savers. I figured your ears might get sore if you have to wear a mask all day at work.” I made ten ear savers. Originally, I thought to make them reversible too but it doesn’t work. Two buttons back-to-back are so tight you can’t put the elastic behind them. “And I used some of the buttons you’d given me.”

I don’t know how good my ear savers’ll work. I only have to wear a mask long enough to go shopping so I don’t need one. And right now, Jody’s working from home but she expects to be called back to work in the plant before long. She’ll have to let me know if they work or need to be redesigned.

The call came and Jody went to collect Mick. He’s doing much better than the first time she had him here and they’re pleased with his progress. She has to keep him on his meds and special diet and go back in a month.

We headed for home and I took more pictures.

“There’s a doorway just inside that gate,” I told Jody. “Do you think it’s the caretakers shack?”

Jody slowed and went around the block so we could check it out. “I think it’s a crypt.”

Between the impending storm and dusk, it was almost too dark to take pictures. Did it stop me from trying?

NO!

It lightened somewhat as we left the storm behind in New York.

Some of the hillsides in Pennsylvania were absolutely gorgeous.

“As beautiful as that hillside is,” I said to Jody as I took a picture. “It doesn’t mean much if there’s nothing in it for perspective.” That’s just my opinion anyway.

 “Even a house would work,” I said and one came into view.

 “But a barn would be better,” I amended.

“Or a shed?” Jody asked as one came into my viewfinder.

“Or a shed,” I agreed.

I like the next three shots I took as we passed but I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with just one.

More road pictures.

You might recognize some of the same buildings from the trip up, or you may not. Things often look different coming from the other direction.

We passed a building before I knew I wanted a picture of it. “Jody, would you mind turning around, please?”

          “The place with the lights?” she guessed, slowed, whipped a u-ey, and back we went.

          I smiled. “Yep.”

          I took six hundred ninety-nine pictures on my road trip with Jody. Not all of them were good.

          I took another eighty-one shots of a beautiful sunrise and narrowed it down to two to show you, but sadly, I’m out of room. Twenty pages is plenty enough for one week. I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.

Next time I’ll start with them. 

Let’s call this one done!