Friday, February 12, 2016

A good day

We don't feed the deer during the season because we'd prefer not to coax them out of the shadows with the promise of food and into the crosshairs of a high-powered rifle. 

But beginning in February, when their food source gets scarce, we feed them under the apple tree down in the field between the house and barn. They are still too skittish to come out in daylight by summer, they're almost eating out of our hands.

This evening when I walked down, Caillou almost knocked me down as he scooted through the back gate between my legs. He weighs close to 80 pounds now and he's a lump.

After dumping the corn, I leaned against the apple tree and watched the sun dip ever lower. A few feet from the tree, a shaft of sunlight fell on a patch of moss the size of a basketball. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I snapped a few shots for grins and giggles. 

When I started back toward the house, Caillou was watching me expectantly. I hurled the plastic feed bucket as far as I could throw it. He was off like a shot and almost caught it before it hit the ground. Snarling and growling, he gave that plastic bucket a piece of his mind before bringing it back to me for another toss.

The cooler weather suits him and he will fetch until my arm is weary.
Jilda is feeling much better and she called us in for supper from the back deck. All in all, it's been a good day.


Thursday, February 11, 2016

Yard Art

I got around early this morning because I had to be in West Alabama for a meeting which meant road time.

I think the chickens were still sleeping when I eased in the pen and dumped the feed in the feeder and swished out the waterer.

A pike of sunlight pierced through the underbrush and highlighted a piece of yard art Jilda had placed on a stand in the corner of the back deck.

The light wasn't that good, but I snapped a photo anyhow because I knew I wouldn't have an opportunity to get many pictures today.

It was a productive day, but tonight I am one tired camper. I hope your Friday is the gateway to a remarkable weekend.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016


I started this morning off with a bang...literally. I moved a magazine to place coffee on the coffee table and I heard something hit the floor. It was a keepsake. I didn't recall the significance of the knick-knack, but when Jilda reminded me, it triggered a thread of memory.

The only good to come out of it was that I got a column from the experience. That's one of the upsides of writing. Even when things go wrong, something good can come from it. I'll post the column next Monday.

Today was beautiful here, but cold. When I drove to town to pick up Jilda's meds at the drug store, the bank blinking sign said 39 degrees at 2 p.m. That's not that bad, but the 15 mph wind out of the north made the windchill if felt much colder. When I got back home, windburn on my face made it look as if I'd been slapped.

Tuesday, February 09, 2016

Flurry day

I've had no flu symptoms so I decided to work in the office today and let Jilda rest. No appointments were on the calendar, just phone work.

As I walked to the car, the scarf Jilda had wrapped around my neck to protect against the cold, flapped in the north wind.  Flakes of snow tickled my nose. I stood for a moment listen to the wind aloft. It sounded like a distant train or a jet flying too low.

Once in the truck, I cranked the engine to let it warm a moment before backing out of the driveway. I called Jilda inside on my cell phone to make sure she'd see the falling snow.

Just before lunch, the clouds scattered a little letting a spoke of sun fall on the lone plant in my office. I thought I saw it smile.

I left at lunch which was a few hours early and headed home. Normally I stay until 2 p.m. but the local news network wanted to interview me at 6 p.m. about the BTW 50+ program that I'm working with and that would take a couple hours.

When I got home, Jilda said that one of our friends had called to say they were bringing us something. They weren't coming to visit because they'd seen on Facebook that Jilda wasn't feeling well, but wanted to bring us something.

He arrived a few moments later and I stepped outside to greet him so he wouldn't be exposed to the flu. He and his wife had picked up lunch at the local Mexican Restaurant. They chose chicken tortilla soup with chips and salsa. It tasted incredible. We were both moved by their gesture.

After lunch, I suited up and went out to get in my steps. I'd missed my goal the last few days, so today was catch up day.

After a few laps, I sat for a moment on the bail of hay at the edge of the garden and watched the clouds. The sun peeped in now and then. I shot a time-lapse photograph but I'm not sure if it will work here.

Jilda is still quite sick, but she is feeling better. There's a good chance I won't have to put her down:)

Monday, February 08, 2016

Let is snow (a little)

I took Jilda to the doctor this morning without much of a fight. She said that if I preferred, I could simply shoot her, but this could have been problematic with the authorities, and to be honest, I'm quite fond of her cooking when she's not afflicted and what not.

We were the first few in the urgent care doctor's office, and it didn't take long to get the scoop – even though she had a flu shot in October, took vitamins, exercised, and avoided sneezing people as if they were lepers with oozing sores, she caught the flu. They swabbed me to be on the safe side, but my results came back negative. I got the shots and the meds anyhow because the doc said even if I didn't have the flu now, I would get it before Jilda stopped being contagious. I didn't whine, but it did feel as if she'd used a screwdriver instead of a syringe.

It was 49 degrees this morning, and the temps have dropped all day. The weatherman has said all day that we could get a little snow today and tonight.

Even with Jilda sick as a rooky sailor, she's still longingly looked out the front windows and asked, "Where's the snow?"

Last year when we got some of the white stuff, Jilda and our great nephew Jordan (and his mom) were beside themselves. In reality, I have fun with that crew too when we get a little white stuff. I did a long-armed selfie that almost cut Jilda from the picture, but you get the idea.

So, Jilda and I say –  Let it snow (a little.)

Sunday, February 07, 2016

Burning boxes

We had a pile of boxes in the laundry room awaiting disposal. We don't put our cardboard in the landfill because there's enough stuff going in there. We would recycle it, but the closest place that recycles cardboard is 35 miles away so we choose to burn our boxes. I know there are arguments against this but currently, that's the way we roll.

I went into the laundry room this evening to get a cleaning cloth and tripped over the boxes so I decided it was time for them to go. 

The wind out of the west had calmed to an infrequent whisper so I hauled the cardboard out and fired 'em up.

The temps dropped after the sun went down, and I'd worn a short-sleeve shirt out. Once the cardboard caught, the warmth of the fire felt good on my bare arms. 

I promise I'm not a pyromaniac, but standing there this evening as the flames licked at the night sky and the gentle roar was hypnotic.

I snapped a photo because I liked the colour.  

My spouse is a sick puppy. She's been on the couch for most of the weekend. I'm taking her to the doctor in the morning.

Saturday, February 06, 2016


I finished the first draft of the profile I'm writing for the paper before lunch today. Afterwards, I decided to jump into the next thing on my to-do list that I've been dreading...TAXES.

After about four hours sifting through drawers, online records, and filling out spreadsheets, I had to take a break. The wind was cool but the sun was warm so it was a cinch getting my 10k steps. At one point, the sun highlighted a broken limb with fungi the color of porcelain.

Afterwards, I made myself a cup of hot peppermint tea and headed back to the office into hell.  Jilda called to me from the kitchen after 6 P.M. saying dinner was served. Those words were like a song to me because I was about three decimal places away from jabbing a #2 pencil  into my temple and twisting it.

Why can't the government simply take my word for it. Hey dude, I think I owe you about 25 bucks, do you take checks?

But NO, they want proof. Receipts that I trip over in December, but become completely invisible when it's time to do the taxes.

I tell you I'd rather have a wisdom tooth gouged out with a Phillips-head screwdriver while donating a kidney than work on taxes...!@#$$#$%^^&!!!&&&&&.

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