A Mouseful Week

           We had such an interesting week this week, at least I did!

          Sunday and Monday we had snow flurries but nothing stuck.

          Then Tuesday and a big snowstorm struck overnight. We woke up to about seven inches of a very wet and heavy snow.

          The power went out and was out for seven or eight hours, according to my beautiful neighbor Steph.

          I called my feisty, redheaded neighbor. “How long was the power out?” I asked, expecting Miss Rosie to pin it down a little closer.

          “It went out sometime in the middle of the night, like one-thirty or two o’clock, because Tux barked when the generator came on. I’d say it was a good twelve hours or so.”

          I was surprised. “Mike and I were already out of bed when ours went out. I’m thinking it was six-thirty or seven.”

          So, we have conflicting stories and in the end it doesn’t matter anyway.

          This snow brought down a lot of trees, branches, power lines, and power poles. Besides the electric going out, phone lines were down, too. Even though we don’t have a landline we get our internet from one. We were three days without it. I survived.

          On the morning of the storm, seventeen thousand plus were without power. Electric companies from other areas sent their linemen — err, linepeople in to help restore power. Susquehanna County was by far the hardest hit in our area with fourteen inches of snow, one-hundred-twenty broken poles, and two miles of downed wires.

          We didn’t go out to check out the damage, but Wednesday we had to go out for milk and passed a line of utility trucks.

          The snow was melting fast and the ornamental trees in town are blooming! It’ll be another week or so until ours bloom.

By Friday the weather was beautiful! I hung out my first load of wash of the year. There’s nothing like the smell of sunshine and wind on your sheets.

Sometimes the wind was a little much-too-much; my clothespins gave up and let my sheets fall to the ground.

          Something that’s been on my mind lately is "stronger together."

          I noticed on our recent trip to Danville that a lot of trees were being held up by other trees. I thought about getting a picture and captioning it something like, When storms blow through life, be a tree. You get it? Help hold someone up when life is hard for them? Let them lean on you? But it didn’t happen.

With "stronger together" still echoing in my mind, I added a second clothespin. Two are better than one. Stronger together. And it worked. Despite the strong wind gusts, and my sheets whipping around like crazy, they stayed on the line.

          With all the snowmelt, our pond is super full.

          And my Forsythia is starting to bloom! I took a couple of pictures and lucked into having a bee in the photos. I didn’t know he was there until I saw him on my ‘puter.

          I spent most of the week inside, but Friday afternoon was spent on the patio, pricking my finger and bleeding all over the place.

          Most of the time, when making tin can flowers, I’m mindful of the sharp edges and needles that often occur during cutting. But this guy! I’m tellin’ ya! He was born out of a blood bath! I pricked my finger so many times! Bondi smelled it but couldn’t figure out where the hamburger was — not that somebody gives her raw hamburger! Okay, okay! That was a lie. I do give her bits of hamburger and every time I do, I hear Kat in my head.

          “Mom! Raw hamburger isn’t good for you and it’s not good for your dogs either!”

          “Peg, what’s on your craft table this week?” you ask.

          This week I’m working on a couple of commissioned pieces.

          I got out my cardboard and cutting mat and measured for two boxes. I’m cutting along the lines with my box knife as straight as I can, but no matter how careful I am, it always seems to go a little wonky. I’ll call it character but I’d prefer if it were straight.

          Then, in my mind’s eye, I’m putting my vacuum sweeper away when I glance down on the floor of the closet and see my paper cutter propped up against the wall.

          Aye-yi-yi! Why didn’t I think of this sooner! I got up, got the paper cutter out and I have ta tell ya! It’s a game-changer folks! I can cut straight and fast!

          I’ve wanted to try a chest-style box for a while now so while I had all my cutting stuff out, I decided to try one. With no pattern to follow, I tried to work it out for myself and it’s bad. I didn’t even finish it. I threw it away and went with a flat lid for the box.

         This one will have actual store-bought hardware on it. Hinges and a clasp. Although, I have to tell ya. I did try to make a hinge. With the internet down, I had to figure it out for myself. I was feeling pretty proud until I put the two sides together. There’s no way to put a pin in because the pin holes don’t line up. He now lives in the scrap bin. But just because I failed this time, doesn’t mean I won’t try again.

          I’m working these boxes through a little at a time. I don’t want to do all the steps on all the boxes all at the same time because then I’ve got nothing to do while they’re drying.

          One is naked, no plaster of Paris, one is half plastered, and the chest-style box is fully plastered but not sanded.

          While waiting for the plaster to dry, I made molds of my crochet hooks for one of the boxes.

          I’ve been anxious to see how the cheap silicone compares to the more expensive stuff and now I know. I didn’t have nearly the working time with the expensive stuff and lost half a batch of molding material. It set before I could use it.

C’est la vie.  

Besides the fast dry time, it stuck to my hands way more than the cheap stuff did. Silicone is very sticky in and of itself, but if you keep a layer of powder between you and it, and keep working it in, you won’t get much on you. I didn’t have any problem with the cheap stuff but with the expensive stuff I had all of this stuck to my hands even after two washings. I sat and picked at it for a while but figured at that rate it would take me a hundred years to pick it all off. I decided to try a dry Scotch-Brite pad and it worked really, really well! I might’ve lost a layer of skin but that was a fair trade off.

        

          I am so proud of my family. My brothers and sisters and I all have a good relationship but beyond that, they are beautiful and smart and clever and resourceful people, too!

          Case in point.

          My younger sister Phyllis got two Dachshund pups this week.

          Nimueh (nim-way) is a nine-week-old female mini weenie.

          Arthur, Artie for short, is another miniature Dachsie, an eighteen-week-old male.

          They are just adorbs and I’m a little bit jelly!

          Since the pups are so little, Phyllis needed steps and decided to make her own.

          “How did you make them?” I wanted to know.

          “I bought 3 blocks of foam 5" thick. The top is 8" wide, the middle is 16", and the base is 24". I glued the pieces together and used some brown fuzzy fabric and fake leather left over from previous projects. Not perfect but these were the first — and I hope the last — steps I ever make. Rachel reports that it works well and the puppies have no trouble using them. Yay! I'll take that as a win.”

          See what I mean! Clever and ingenious! Phyllis, the steps are awesome! You did good!

          Bondi loves her chewies. Well, I say that but really what she loves is the stuff wrapped around the chewie. After the good stuff is gone, she’s done with them. I used to throw them away but discovered she’ll often go back for the rest of the chewie another time so I’ve gotten in the habit of tossing them in her kennel.

          I heard her barking and went to see what was bothering her. Here Spitfire is laying on her stash of chew sticks. She managed to pull a few out but couldn’t bully Spitfire into leaving. I refused to help her.

          Speaking of Spitfire…

          He didn’t come home last night but he came home for breakfast. Checking him out I see he’s got a bite on his shoulder. It’s not fresh. It’s starting to scab over and doesn’t look pusy. I’ll keep an eye on it.

          And now, knowing I’ve titled this A Mouseful Week, I bet you can’t wait to hear what that’s all about!

          So, this week has been a very, very mouseful kinda week. Since the snow left, the cats have been bringing mice in left and right!

          Tiger brought one in. He’d already killed it so I didn’t need to sic Bondi on it. I never, never, no never, have to put up with cats torturing mice ever again since Bondi will quickly dispatch them — and I’m not afraid to use her either!

          I was really surprised when I saw Tiger playing with his dead mouse. He’d toss it in the air and perform acrobatics catching it.

          Bondi, Blackie, and I watched from inside the dog run until curiosity got the best of Blackie. He climbed the chain-link, balancing on top for a moment, then went to investigate.

          If Tiger let him have the mouse or not, I didn’t care. I went inside.

          The next time I look out, I see Blackie playing with a dead mouse. I’m guessing Tiger let him have it. I doubt he’s big enough to just take it from Tiger.

          But where’s Bondi, I wondered and opened the door.

          There she was, on the patio rug, consuming a mouse of her own. Where this mouse came from, I don’t know. And since there’s not much besides a tail left, I’m guessing she ate the rest of it.

          “Ewwww! Gross!” you say.

          I know, right! I’m right there with ya on that! I didn’t let her finish, tossing the rest over the fence.

          Then I Google it.

If a dog eats an already dead mouse, chances are it was sick or poisoned so it could potentially make your dog sick. But if your country dog is catching and killing country mice, it’s actually a pretty well-balanced diet for him. The biggest issue could be worms but we worm Bondi every month so that’s not an issue.

Bondi hates dog food and only eats it when she’s really hungry. She survives mostly on treats and cat food. If she likes mice and they’re good for her, I’m gonna let her eat them — and if I gotta clean up puke, I’ll clean up puke.

She didn’t puke this one up and I didn’t let her have the one Blackie was playing with. I think one mouse a day is enough until I see how well she digests them.

Sunday morning Blackie brings in a live one. He doesn’t come over the fence well yet so I picked Bondi up, opened the gate, and tried to coax him in.

          He wasn’t understanding. He went to the edge of the yard and put his mouse down. The mouse looked at him for a moment and made a break for the weeds.

          Blackie went after him as he went down over the bank.

          Caught him and brought him back.

          Blackie kept torturing this poor critter but I was hesitant to put Bondi down, leashless, outside of the fence. I didn’t know if she’d take off on me or not.

          After watching for a few minutes, I had enough. I decided to chance it and put Bondi down. She grabbed the mouse and shook the stuffing out of it. She dropped it and checked for signs of life. She’d done a good job.

          I picked Bondi up, she picked up the mouse, I carried her back inside the run, put her down, and went in the house. What happened after that, I can’t say.

          Sunday afternoon, Mike and I are playing cards and Bondi’s on the patio barking her fool head off. I couldn’t get her to be quiet so I went to see what was wrong. There on the rug was a small snake. She didn’t try to kill it and I don’t know why that is. A natural fear of snakes maybe?

          I took him out in the weeds and shook him free.

          I’d originally intended to end this week’s letter blog with the mouse stories but since I’ve got some room left and some time, I think I’ll keep going with an update and some tidbits.

          I wrote about Merl Edison last week. Remember?

          I was writing this week’s blog when I got a message from his brother. He was not happy. “Why would I want you to blog about my dead brother?”

          Even though it was written, it made my heart skip a beat and I was embarrassed. I could read the anger and upset in his words. I tried to explain. “I saw his marker and wanted to take a moment to be sad and mourn for a life lost too young. I lost my daughter and wasn't able to put a marker up. I'm so very sorry for your loss.”

         After I sent it, I thought of lots better ways I could’ve put it. Rather than compound my faux pas, I left it alone.

          I guess I was projecting. Given the opportunity to show a picture of my beautiful daughter or tell you something about her, I’d relish it. I guess not everyone would.

           I felt horrible. I couldn't concentrate on writing anymore. I left the computer and baked up a storm. Our church was having a potluck for a special guest, one of the missions we support, and I made baked beans, Dream Bars, and Lemon Bars.

          One step and then the next gets you where you’re going.

          This is something said over and over by Sister in the book Swan Song. Tired, starving, freezing cold, or injured, she bolstered herself with this mantra. It amazes me how people in books and movies can get shot or busted up and keep on going. Me? A tummy ache can put me in bed all day! But nonetheless, I appreciate the sentiment and it’s very similar to the longest journey begins with one step. Sometimes we need to remember that and just take the first step.    

          Speaking of movies...

          I’ve seen two in the past few weeks I wanted to tell you about.

          Do you know, or have you heard, about Rubin "Hurricane" Carter? He was an American-Canadian middleweight boxer, wrongfully convicted of murder and later released following a petition of habeas corpus after serving almost twenty years in prison. Twenty years!

          Mike and I watched the movie and if it aligns with the true facts (I know that’s superfluous but couldn’t help but say it) but if it’s anywhere close to the truth, I’m shocked and horrified at the miscarriage of justice perpetrated on this man.

          Lastly, the Newsy channel showed The Hidden Life of Trees. I think there’s a second part playing tonight. It’s amazing! Astonishing, even!

          Did you know that trees share nutrients through their root system? Including with their competitors. The system is to everyone’s advantage, because a grouping of trees creates an ecosystem that, among other things, can regulate temperature, store water, and generate humidity.

Or that they get together and decide whether or not to bloom? It was focused mainly on the beeches and oaks. The deer, wild pigs, birds, and squirrels can eat a lot of nuts and wipe out a year’s worth of seeds. By not blooming every year, the critters can’t count on them for a food supply. When the trees do bloom, the lower critter population, and abundance of nuts makes for more baby trees.

Trees feel pain. When a caterpillar takes a bite out of a leaf, the leaf sends electrical signals back (to where, I don’t know) and the tree will send out a chemical to spoil the caterpillar’s meal. But trees live in the slow lane. The pain signal only travels at a third of an inch per minute and it can be an hour or more for the tree’s defensive compound to reach the leaves and spoil the pest’s meal.

It was fascinating. There’s more, but I won’t go on. 

In fact, let’s call this one done!

Done!