SNOW PLOWING

 The road ends here.  As you can see, the township plowed my road again this week.  I commend them on keeping this narrow, dead end road clear this winter. 

 There is no room to turn the monster plow around, so Terry has to back the truck down the road. Often, at 3:00 am or so, I hear the beep, beep, beep of the snowplow as it backs down the hill.  The yellow caution lights flashing through my curtains.  Sometimes, if I am awake when Terry comes by, I turn on the porch light to signal a big THANK YOU.  

 The sun rising in the east.

 The long hill Terry backs down.

A glimpse of the back yard, and lots of dog prints.

 

Th front yard, which is the bird feeding station.

 

The Tally Ho Tahoe has not moved in a month.  

 

As Johnny Cash said, "the piles got higher" or was it "the ring of fire", or was it hire the elderly, or did he hear the snow plow a comin' round the bend, near the prison.  Or all of the above?

Or....

 

 ,,,,was it "Lex-us entertain you".

Or maybe it was "Daddy sang base while Momma sang with Ben-Hur"

You know I could do this for hours don't you?

Zip it.

OUR WILD CATS

When I bought Rustynail Garden, in 2005, there was one wild kitty living here.  A female.  She had several litters of kittens before I could trap her and have her, and her offspring, altered.  Momma and two of her kitties still live here, but two of the three are wild.

Scaredy Cat has become a very friendly fellow.  His brother Doobie is quite the opposite.  All the cats come home to eat morning and night, but only Scaredy Cat craves attention and a good scratch.  The other two keep their distance.....until recently. 

I was not going to leave them outside during these recent blizzards.  When very hungry, the cats will come up to the spot I set the food.  I get one chance to grab, and I better not miss.  I managed to grab Momma.  At the next meal I grabbed Doobie.  I put all three in the heated garage with food, water, litter, and some pillows.

Doobie was frantic.  He yowled, dug at the door, and hissed.  Momma hid.  They had not been confined inside with three dogs before this.  Jazz is harmless inside her kennel, but she does bark to greet everyone.


Scaredy did not mind the nice warm garage at all.  After a day inside at 60 degrees, with the wind howling outside at zero degrees, they all seemed much happier.  I took pictures as I talked to them.   Doobie acts like an old farm cat (he is the grey cat).  I am shocked at the difference in him.

Here is Doobie first inside, hiding under the work bench in the litter box, wide eyed.

 

 Then I set the food on the work bench and he came out of hiding.

Then he posed for this picture; but those wide eyes are a sign he is on alert.

Full tummy, soft blanket, nice warm shelter.  He is beginning to like this!

Animals just seem to know when your are helping them. 

                                                 Scaredy Cat.  Relaxed, purring, happy eyes.

 

 Please turn the light off, we are trying to take a cat nap.

Goodnight.

 

ABOMINABLE OR ADORABLE?

 

 Would you let this man in your house to get warm?  Neither would our dogs!

Jessie and Jamie bounced off the couch when this man walked in the door.  Jazz knew who it was so she just wagged her tail in excitement. I did too - knew who it was I mean.  I did not wag my tail.

It is so flipping, dipping cold that we have to bundle up so no skin is exposed.  Central Illinois is closed.  Almost every office, school, business, non-business, and monkey business is closed.  Kroger is open.  So is Walgreens.  The high temperature as I write this is -9. 

Can you believe Dennis is on his way to the nursing home to visit his mom dressed like this?

I wonder if his mother will let him inside to get warm?

 

OUR CHRISTMAS TREE IS STILL UP

There have been many years when I packed up the Christmas decorations by New Years day.

However, this year was crazy busy.  We were decorating our tree at 3 a.m. Christmas morning. 

It has only been up 13 days, so I am not ready to take it down yet.  Maybe next week.

 

I did find some wonderful decorations Christmas Eve at Hobby Lobby - 66% off!

I got some deals! 

 

This little basket is a family piece, still being enjoyed after many years. 

 

My friend, Evon, gave me this table decoration.  I love the ribbon! 

 

The red hutch was decorated with snowmen, and a dog! 

The snowflake picture was made by artist Ann Prichard.

 

I had to wrap some garland around the light.

 

The wreath was hand made by the ladies at the Red Barn Tree Shop in Morton.

They are so talented.  

 

What's this?  Who is this?  It is Dennis and his granddaughter!

Nice feet!

 

Evie got a new zebra sweater from Santa.

 

"Ok fine, I'll wear it for awhile." 

 

Merry Christmas to all.

 

THE MIDWESTERN SOCK EATER

Somewhere tonight, there is a bird with one very cold leg and one warm leg.  Let me explain.

Saturday morning we woke up to the most beautiful snow covered landscape.  It was a live version of a Terry Redlin limited edition. I jumped out of bed and grabbed the camera.  Oh, and I pulled on my jeans.  This was the day I had been waiting for.  Our first snow.  The earth was quiet and still.  At least until everyone started shoveling and getting their cars and bicycles out of the snowdrifts. 













I let the dogs out and snapped photos of them playing in the snow.  As I walked around, I took pictures of the snow covered branches, including this little birdhouse in the Dogwood tree.



This evening I poured a hot coff of cuppy..........cup of coffee and reviewed the photos on the laptop.  I noticed something unusual in the picture of the birdhouse.  Do you see it?

The birdhouse has a tail.

 

 

 I zoomed in.

Is that a sock?  Is Dennis playing tricks on me?  I did not pull my jeans on, but again I ran outside in my pj's, in the dark, and stuck my hand under the birdhouse.  It felt like a sock.  I pulled.

 

Yep.  A sock. 

 

Dennis said the Midwestern Sockeater must have tried to make a nest in the birdhouse.

I ran through a checklist in my head trying to figure this out.

 

a. How long has it hung in the tree?

b.  Where did the birdhouse come from?

c. Did I buy the birdhouse at Goodwill or did Myrtle give it to me?

d.  Does someone need their sock back?

e. Dennis said it is not his sock.

f.  It is not my sock.

g. There is a bird out there tonight with a cold leg.

The heel was worn thin.  I googled "birds that eat socks" and sure enough I found it.....google it yourself if you don't believe me.  This came from the Urban Dictionary.

"Sock Eater

A mythical creature that lives only to eat socks, and leaves a trail of odd pairs in its wake. Sightings of this elusive creature are rare and unsubstantiated. It's habitat is thought to be somewhere between the sock drawer and the washing machine. Other theories place the sock eater closer to the tumble drier, but this is thought unlikely, as socks can go missing even when left hanging to dry."

 

I guess Dennis was right. 

Do you have holes in your socks?  No?  Then how do you get your feet in? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

COOKIE EXCHANGE AND TEA PARTY

I would like to show you the beautiful holiday table my friend created. 

Good china set on silver chargers!  Salt and pepper shaker ornaments.  Fine linens.

This chick loves glass, glitter and giggles.  She is lots of fun.

 

Floating candles and cranberries in a fluted bowl.

 

Ah, the tea and cookie station.  Mercy Me. 

 

Decorations galore. 

Three Wise Men?  Oh I get it, they are our blind dates for the party.

 

This is the last year for this vintage, white Christmas tree.  But don't worry, it is spoken for already! 

By Me!

I love this tree.  I might leave it up all year long. 

My friend's mother hand painted this Nativity.  The detail work is beautiful.
I admire her skill and patience.  I don't have the skill to paint my toes!

I was not kidding you!  Every brush stroke was carefully placed. 

Frosty, go outside before you melt!  Are you trashed again?

 

 

 An angel collection...except for the dogs and birds.

 

 I see you!

Clever.

 

 This red scarf accents another pretty setting.  It also does something else, can you guess?
You might want to try this at your cookie exchange....it is hiding a pile of papers and stuff!
I never would have guessed!  However, I would need a tarp to cover up my piles.

 

 John Wayne loves cookie exchanges.   Would you like some tea John?  Please take off your spurs.

Have yourself a Merry Christmas Little Lady.  See you back at the ranch.

 

MODERATELY EVENTFUL

This week has not been very exciting but it has been eventful.
Not eventful as in making newspaper headlines.  More like "stuff happened."

Let's see.  We went to our favorite, local Red BarnTree Farm in Morton, IL.  These ladies make bows and boughs fit for the Queen.  However, the pet reindeer they have had for years....died last year.

Theme Trees!


When we returned home, I  lifted the hatch on the van to get the wreath and smacked my noggin on the hatch.  My head is mighty sore.

I did attend the most wonderful cookie exchange Saturday with Princess Jan, and her royal court Duchess Deb and Countess Doris.  We sipped tea from fine china, lifted our pinky, and took pictures using the timer on my camera.  A girly day.

The pantry door, which I have been building, was supposed to end up funky.  Instead it is too darn nice to turn it into funky.  In fact.  It's really nice.  DARN it.  So Dennis made me stain it, and put a nice knob on it.  DARN it.

The dog may have broken her tail.  We find out tomorrow when she sees Dr. Peterson.  We just got over the anal gland episode last week.  Before that it was something more personal and I would embarras her if I told you. 

Oh, the mice.  We had a mouse under the sink.  I cleaned all the kitchen cabinets and bleached everything.  I remember a funny story about a mouse in the kitchen 30 years ago.  I was a debutante at the time.  The bread board in the kitchen slid out from under the counter.  We would cut our toast on it daily.  One day I looked closer at the dark toast crumbs.  They were not crumbs.  They were mouse turds.  OH MY GOSH!  I lived through it.

That is my week in nut shell,
 or in a mouse turd, or in a dog's life.
How was yours?