My day job...a tiny part

I help find rescue groups with puppies for adoption, coast to coast. Aren't they cute?

Don't forget to watch the Puppy Bowl!

Yes, I got to help with that, too. :) So technically, if you watch the Puppy Bowl, you help support Wildrun cats. How about that. So grab some chips and dip, sit down with your family or friends, and support Wildrun. Ha!

All the puppies in this year's Puppy Bowl are shelter pets from these organizations.

Yes indeed. I am a professional puppy pusher.

Damn you, Cary!

Got this in my email just now:



I haven't laughed that hard in months. OK, if Murphy is still there after I get back from travel next week, and some other senior-dog-sucker hasn't adopted him, I'll go visit.

He's gotta like cats, though.

Morning post-note: I cannot get a dog. I canNOT get a dog. I CANNOT get a dog. I must have some sense here. Sigh.

Am I really, hopelessly, cat-centric?

I'm the first to admit I love cats more than dogs. I especially love kittens more than puppies. I expect some of that is that any four-week old kitten can use a litterbox, but it's going to be quite a bit longer before a puppy figures it out.

I have a great appreciation for dogs. Having a dog is like having a seven-year-old son on a good day. They want to be with you, they appreciate every good thing you say about them, they have boundless energy, are smart as a whip, they love life, their eyes just SHINE, and they want nothing more than your approval.

Like I said, a seven-year-old son on a good day.

Sadie was Mark's dog. She like me well enough, but it was Mark she loved. I've often wondered what having a dog of my own would be like. Given my travel schedule, I know better than to adopt one now. When thinking about "The Future Dog," I waver.

A shelter dog? (Note: bad move, I've met Murphy, nearly adopted him, and didn't know he would be on Stray Haven's pet list) or a breed rescue dog? More to the point, a Great Pyr

I grit my teeth and remind myself over and over and over that I sometimes am traveling twice a month, and I don't want to kennel a dog. It's just not a good time to adopt.

So today, when I was visiting the Kitschen Sink, I experienced one of my other great weaknesses. Secondhand stuffed pets. Yes, seriously. An art garage was not a place I expected to have to confront this weakness of mine. And a stuffed dog, no less. I kept coming around to look at him sitting there on the floor. Surely he would be too expensive...

Not. That's the problem with secondhand stuffed pets. Cheap as hell. Damn!

So, we now have a dog. The older cats are seriously freaked. I had to move him off the bed but Ditzy still won't come in the room. The Terrorist kittens think he's pretty cool.



Unfortunately, now I've visited Murphy's pet note. Damn again! And Cary is IMing me to say she'll gladly dog-sit. Of course, she's in Pennsylvania, not exactly around the block.

Oh yes, I did buy some art at the art garage, although it was a wee little thing, given my commitment to buy a bigger piece. And here it is:

Wrapping yourself in things that make you smile

This photo of Tinker snoozing on the ottoman was supposed to go in the post below. As I was resizing it, I realized she was sleeping on a Native American rug that my college roommate Leslie had gifted me...oh, perhaps 27 years ago.

I have so many lovely things around my home that make me smile. I'd like to think I'm not a possessions-based person (I was happy enough in a beat-up old trailer as long as it was in the country with good neighbors), but as life goes on, you accumulate things and cannot help but treasure them when they come from people you love and from friends who care. It is one of the benefits of life passing, this gathering of memories in both mental and physical form.

And it's not even February

I promised myself today there was no leaving the house until certain chores were finished.

The Christmas Tree, for one. I would like to report it is safely out in the back yard, and the great room has been thoroughly vacuumed. Pine needles will, of course, continue to edge out from magical hiding places until approximately next September.

I also put on my boots and gathered up the bows from the fence and the barn. Ah, farewell Christmas.





I stopped beside the bird feeder to revel in chickadees...nearly 20 of them. I have a variety of additional visitors: doves, Downey and Hairy woodpeckers, tufted titmice, blue jays, cardinals, both red and grey squirrels, and of course the deer. The feeders are alongside the path to my porch, and the birds are quite bold. I believe the soft rapid-fire flutter of chickadee wings may be one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

I tried to take some photographs but alas, my 4 year old digital camera is becoming pixel-challenged, and darting chickadees are beyond its capability.

However, it can still handle a zonked cat basking in front of the fire.

Friday!

What a week. I'd love to fill you in on my work this work, but as I handle complaints, that part of my job is something I can't go into in detail despite how fascinating the tales would be.

After four years of dealing with mostly lovely people, but unfortunately quite a few not-so-lovely people, it has finally begun to stop cutting me to the heart. I have finally come to comprehend that there are people who are not mortified by their inhumane or unethical behavior. I can talk to them until they are blue in the face, and they will still tell me what an unfair horrible person I am, and how I am DISCRIMINATING again them when there are people out there who are doing much, much worse than they.

Yes, really. They will even send me lists of people who are doing just what they are doing, or worse. And I say, "Thank you, I'll look into these." If you are pulled over for driving 88 in a 55 mph zone, do you think the cop is going to let you off because other people are doing 100? "Here's your ticket, ma'am, and now I'm off to go catch that 100 mph driver, have a nice day and see you in court."

I have talked to people with dead animals in their home who have told me that they are not guilty of cruelty...not because there weren't dead animals in their home, but because the court papers said the floor under the dead animal was carpeted when in fact it was wood.

Not kidding.

This week, the lessons I tried to teach included one that I'm having to repeat more and more often: That if you put an adoption fee of $200-$400 on a pet, it damned well better be fixed.

If you are confused by why I would even have to write the statement above, then you might understand why this has been a tough week.

Needless to say, even though I often answer email and make phone calls on the weekends, I am glad when Friday rolls around. While many nights I may work a couple hours over quitting time, on Friday I snap the laptop closed, grab a cat, and dance a little happy dance.

No more farm critters in Norwich.

The City of Norwich has banned farm animals.

I lived next to a llama and a sheep on Tillman Ave in Norwich. Yes, there are better places for farm animals than on a quarter-acre back yard. However, I'm never sure about banning hens. There seems to be something positively unAmerican about not being to have two hens and fresh eggs anywhere you live in the United States.

Roosters, now that's another matter.

A new start

I have to say, I'm facing the next few years with both hope and dread. I remember the hope I experienced after 9/11--that at least, out of an incredible tragedy, a vast opportunity had arisen. The majority of the world was sudden behind the United States, and how we proceeded could change how we were viewed. Of course, we know what path we chose. Same old, same old America the Imperialist. Oh, and let's throw in torturer, too, just to push the envelope.

Yesterday, the vp pinged me and said "are you watching the Inauguration? You can if you want to, you know" so I winged over to CNN.com and got in the queue. Ten minutes later, I was watching Obama sworn in, and then the festivities throughout the day and night (while working, I will add). I tuned in with a "well, yeah, this is something I OUGHT to watch"--something like going to the dentist--but found myself checking back at the open screen throughout the day, right up until bedtime.

I was not embarrassed. It was like being cleansed of a disease I didn't know I had had. Even when they muffed the swearing-in, I was thinking "Ah, that's a bummer, they are going to remember THAT flub forever!" The poet I thought could have worked a bit on cadence. But I was not constantly dealing with twinges of "oh my god, did he/she really say that?" or switching off the sound in mortification. It was like watching an average person speak. And Michelle Obama, ah! She was NORMAL. She did not stand like a china doll next to her man. How did she do that? What is the difference? What about her made them look like a couple (a family?) rather than a man with a family in the shadows. Might it be her attitude toward the people watching her? Her attitude toward life? Who knows.

Anyway, my dread arises from how it might all fall, as my hope fell after 9/11. Perhaps this administration will fall victim to the same hubris and corruption that they all seem to fall victim to. Clinton has his intern, Bush his war...all humans have their weakness. I can only hope that Obama's is something merely mortal that won't cripple a country.

I wish them the very best. I look around me and think "How can I participate in all this hope, to keep it alive, to keep it going?"

We are a frightening society

In the search for snacks that aren't entire crap, I brought home some corn nuts from the bulk section as well. When I did an internet search to find out the nutritional value this is what I got.

Spicy mango/orange tofu with Japanese noodles

I have a problem with making good food at home.

Except for periodic exceptions, I have not been enthusiastic about cooking. I have certainly thrown out more food than I have ingested, and eat out far more often than my budget can afford. Recently, I have resorted to eating some pretty nasty and fattening box stuff, and I can see the result on the scale and in my general everyday well-being.

I expect that at some point I shall take some enjoyment out of cooking again, but I think it will take another half-year before the association of it with my ex wears off entirely.

So when I faced grocery shopping this week, I was determined to try and find food I could eat that would taste good, i.e. GOOD!, but that did not require measuring, or any sort of creative attention during the cooking process. Because when my "I Don't Give A Damn" kicks in, it really kicks in.

I spent a scary two hours in Wegmans. On Saturday, at 1pm. What was I thinking! However, I still am in my zen mode ("This is nothing compared to what I've been through...I'll just wait until the cattle move out of the chute, and then I can move my cart again"), so it wasn't as maddening as I used to find it.

I scoured every aisle and every freezer, looking for food I might have missed, that I might use as throw-together ingredients for food that I could get the satisfaction of pretend-cooking, and good taste, as well as reasonable nutrition.

Tonight I ventured into my newly stocked cupboards with trepidation...but, SUCCESS!


Spicy Mango/Orange Tofu with Japanese Noodles

One pack (of the two included in the main package) of Pete's Tofu2Go Thai Tango "ready to eat tofu snacks." The idea of eating this stuff cold gives me the shudders, but what we have here is already spiced SMALL packages (two!) of tofu that can also be stir-fried! It's not as huge as a whole block of tofu, and it's already browned. How about that?

Udon Instant Japanese Style Noodles, plain. Mine are a different brand and were only .69 a package. You boil them 3 minutes to warm them up, then throw them in the stir fry. No worrying about whether or not they are done.

Maggi Sweet Chili Sauce, MILD. I have purchased probably ten different bottles of "sauce" and have tossed most of them, after opening and discovering they were entirely too spicy. This sauce is sweet and spicy without being overpowering. That said, it IS spicy. The sweetness is also not cloying. It is sit-down restaurant sweet, not Chinese Buffet sweet.

Delmonte Fruit-to-Go mandarin oranges, four pack.

I cut up one of the packages of Tofu2Go into smaller pieces, and threw it in the stir fry pan with some olive oil, powdered garlic, and about a tablespoon of tamari/soy sauce. I heated it on medium.

I put the noodles on to boil.

When the noodles had been on boil for two minutes, I threw one individual plastic cup of mandarin oranges (drained) in with the tofu, as well as the two mango sauce packages that came with the Tofu2Go. One may have been enough...I'll try next time. I shook in about two tablespoons of the sweet chili sauce and heated it all up on high for one minute (try not to beat up the oranges too much). When the noodles had been boiling 3 minutes (as directed on the package), I drained them and threw them in with the tofu. I heated all for another minute on high (or until hot).

That's it. It made more than enough for me. It is perhaps enough for two people as a side dish, but probably not enough for two as a main dish. I guess I'll toss the remainder in the fridge to see how it warms up the next day for the sake of this blog post, although I'm not a fan of instant leftovers.

It was really, really good, if you like spicy-sweet food. It did not taste "fake" at all. It was almost restaurant-good. The noodles were wonderful. I've never used them before.

In the interest of more healthful eating, I think a handful of frozen broccoli tops (or fresh, of course) would not have been out of place in this, as long as they weren't freezer burned. You know what I mean...a perfectly good recipe ruined by frozen veggies that taste like a locker room.

I have another pack of tofu, three mandarin orange cups, and of course the whole bottle of sweet chili sauce left. Out of those particular ingredient purchases, not one was a flop.

Of course, "real" ingredients could replace some of these things (an actual orange or tangerine instead of a plastic single serving cup, etc.).

Cost, about four bucks rounded up.

The pariah fawn...

..is missing today. Perhaps the coyote have done their job. I keep looking out the window, hoping little #5 will appear.

I have a game I play...

....where I think of a web address for a blog I might like to start, and plug it into the search window, to see who already has it, and what they have to say.

Sometimes it is something very simple, but to the point.

Be sure to read the web address I typed in, and I'll assume you know the lyrics. You have to wonder what the blogger was thinking when they parked that address, with that short message...with no further posts.

Idle leg-hair blogging

I was shaving my legs today, and as leg-shaving requires very few brain cells, I got to thinking about age-appropriate permission-based rites of passage that girls experience. Like ear-piercing, wearing make-up etc., that our mothers may or may not have expressed an opinion on. A la "You can't wear make-up until you are 16" or "you can wear eye shadow but not lipstick," etc.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why leg-shaving was piled there in my memories as something I had had to ask permission to do. I could see why mom might weigh in on certain female ornamentation, but I couldn't think why I would have felt I had to ask permission to shave my legs. I distinctly remember my mother saying something like "Your leg hair isn't even noticeable, don't worry about it," so I must have actively asked.

Of course I DID worry about it, because I was a pre-teen and pre-teens obsess about everything. Heck, I worried that my arm hair was too dark! So why didn't I just go off and buy a plastic razor or get one from a friend? I had an allowance to spend. It's not like my mom really would have cared if I actually shaved my legs or not.

Was I really so shy that I thought I'd get in trouble? I mulled this over for quite awhile, wondering what kind of emotional cripple I'd been if I was cowed by something so simple as that.

It wasn't until I was half-way through my second leg when the proverbial light bulb went on. Did they even HAVE twin-blade disposable razors for women readily available when I was a kid? If they existed, they probably weren't hanging in cheap 4 packs in every checkout lane. To shave my legs I would have had to borrow my mom's electric razor. Electric razors, back then, were the kind of equipment that was A) pricey, and B) more likely to wear out with increased use, so a Mom was not likely to say to her pre-teen kid, sure, go ahead and play with my electric razor. And there's no sneaking something that buzzes like a 17-year cicada.

I contemplated the disposable piece of plastic in my hand, amazed. One more rite of passage dispersed by cheap mass production. Huh.

I wonder what I'll think about the next time I shave my legs.

Landscaping with deer

My deer are denuding my rhododendrons and I could care less. Every year I obsess over winter damage on those plants, and this year I'm going to let the deer eat them, and cut them back to nothing. If they come back, fine. If they don't, oh well. The only thing I'll regret is that there's less for the deer to eat next year. Well, and yes, I do think about the person who planted them once. Were they placed there just because they looked pretty? Were they planted in someone's memory, or moved from some loved other-home? I feel badly destroying the product of someone's hard work. But nonetheless, away they go.

I've resolved that things that produce unnecessary stress need to go, unless the stress is offset by the utility or beauty that it produces. And it occurred to me that, while I enjoy driving by other people's houses and seeing their rhodies in bloom, I seldom pay attention to mine. Just "oh look, they are blooming" and then suddenly they are gone.

Chomp away, dear deer. They are all yours.

On the other hand, I've netted the two Canadian hemlocks planted in the cat garden, which were intended to replace the white pines that will one day need to be cut down. I hope they weren't damaged too much to recover.

I don't want to be at war with my wildlife. I do realize that I'm going to have to do some serious fence work this spring if I wish to be a serious farmer. There is no sense in applying sprays, etc. The only thing that really addresses the deer situation is a damned good fence (improved, perhaps by a good dog).

Sprays are worthwhile for ornamentals, like hostas, that are not practical to fence. However if you are going to put in a veggie garden in central NYS, don't think a few metal posts and some chicken wire are going to protect your hard work.

Goal for next spring: A) put two strands of electric wire on the uphill fenced vegetable garden, and put hardware cloth around the bottom two feet to keep the small critters out as they can get through the current 2"x3" wire, and B) fence in a "small" (compared to the entire field) area on the flat for a public cutting garden.

I'll have the remaining flat plowed, and I'll likely plant some crop for the fun of it, realizing that I'll have a great deal of deer damage. Sweet corn? Sunflowers? Then I'll look toward a wire fence for the field down the road.

There is water constantly running out of a spring pipe on the OPPOSITE side of the road, a good twenty feet higher than my field below. Perfect for gravity-fed irrigation. I intend to talk to the town about what it would cost for me to put a pipe under the road. I'm sure it will be prohibitive, but it will be good to know should they ever decide to do drainage work on the road and are digging things up anyway.

There is also the future option of putting in terraces on the hill below the spring, and allowing the spring to irrigate a damp-ground plant garden, or even a natural water garden. Why pay money for electricity to drive a pump, when water is coming right out of the hillside?

I also have a steep hill on the field-side of the road. Is there a single spring on that hillside on my property? Of course not. Are there springs just sixty feet down across the neighbor's property line? Of course.

Lopi insert - not for primary heating

I'm a bit disappointed in the new stove. I noticed that the embers didn't seem to burn down. They heaped up and up until you couldn't get more wood in the stove, and had to let all the wood burn down, and turn the pile of embers until they turned to ash.

This is more labor intensive than I was expecting. The previous insert burned right down to ash without a problem, even as you added more wood. If you kept up with loading wood, you never had to let the fire burn out until the ash built up -- up to two weeks, if you neglected it.

I have to let this insert burn down every 2 or 3 days. I thought perhaps it was me not using the stove properly, but a visit to the place I bought it confirmed...they have the same issue with the stove (an actual stove, not an insert) in their store.

Well, hell and fishes, why didn't they tell me that when they were pitching the stove to me?

Oh well, it's here now. I would highly recommend this stove if you want something very pretty for a toasty fire, and let your fire go out quite often. If you want a stove to keep piled full of wood day in and day out, the Lopi is not for you.

I will not get this stove for the great room, when the day comes to deal with that fireplace.

However I do love being able to see the fire, and when it's burning, it puts off much more heat than the previous insert.

Still, $3,200 with the chimney liner and installation, and by the time I get home from a six-hour trip to town, it's burned down to embers. And when I go to bed, I have to get up when I hear the furnace kick in because the fire has died. No, I am not-so-happy.

Long, cold winter for everyone

I am bored to tears. Not to say I don't have things to do. I simply am not motivated to do them. And it's still January. Sigh. I comfort myself knowing I, at least, am warm inside.

This is my first winter without a dog. Let me tell you, while a shotgun may provide security, it doesn't have the other benefits of dog company. For example, there is a plate on the floor before me that I set down late last night...leftover pot roast. The cats licked it clean AROUND the potatoes. Well, mostly Bear did, as he's the most dog-like.

My old dog Sadie would have made short work of those potatoes. Now they are compost. I can't believe the food I throw out. Cats are picky. Half the time when you give them a bit of something, they stick up their noses, leaving you to stoop and pick up the now-cold-and-sticky offering. Or you fail to notice it until you step on what was once a perfectly good piece of provolone cheese.

This simply isn't an issue with a dog. With a dog, it's gone before she even tastes it.

I also have been astounded by the varieties of wildlife I see now. At first I thought it was the loss of Nicki-the-cat, who made short work of red squirrels and chipmunks. Then I thought it was the addition of woodpiles (which we have always had to some extent, but not so large as this year). Yet Nicki didn't eat deer and possums. The deer are showing up in daylight, cleaning up under the bird feeders, and I have not one but three possums visiting nightly.

Then it struck me---no Sadie on patrol. She couldn't see or hear worth a damn, but she was a big black dog exuding Big Black Dogginess. She sat on the porch for hours, staring out over her domain.

I enjoy the wildlife, and am slowly patching holes in the house to prevent squirrelly disasters, but it does bring their plight closer to home. I feed only black oil sunflower seed, but recently added cracked corn for the doves and jays. I am tempted to put out food for the deer, but I know better than to do so. Already, one smaller fawn is beat up by the others. Encouraging more to come means increasing conflict. The pariahs stand shivering while the others spend more time eating in my yard, and less time out in browse where the pariahs could get something to eat. Of course, they are too shy to wander off on their own, so stay with the crowd and starve. I have, however, taken to scattering the cracked corn widely rather than in a pile under the feeders, so the birds eat it more quickly and when the deer come, the little one gets a chance, and they all leave more quickly for more traditional browse. I haven't increased the food. I remind myself..."bad, bad, bad to feed the deer." How many calls did I get when I did nuisance wildlife control, from people with deer dying in their front yards? Yet a person is tempted, seeing them out there in the cold.

Don't they die out in the hills, too? Yes, they do, but out in the hills, when they go down, coyotes make short work of them. This may sound brutal, but it's important to remember there are no easy deaths for wildlife--not a single one of them--and better a fast death than a long lingering one, if an animal isn't going to make it to spring. This is why I don't permit coyote hunting on my property. There is a good reason they are there, and this is one of them. They are winter's grim reapers, and prevent a lot of suffering by filling their bellies.

However, to turn from such dark thoughts, it is a bright winter day, somewhat warmer than yesterday, with lots of opportunities to get things done. So off I go...

Not yet, please.

Got this in my email yesterday.

Economic Twilight Zone

Do you ever feel like everyone else lives in a different universe than you? The economy for example. Are there any other people besides myself who, four years ago, were thinking "You know, our economy is going to tank in short order." Yes, there were/are. Lots of you.

For example, there was the housing bubble that the media kept assuring us wasn't going to burst. Ummmm...how could it not when couples making $75,000 combined were buying $300,000 houses?

And then there is Office Depot in Ithaca, which is going out of business.

Office Depot parked itself in the exact same building that previously housed Office Max--which went out of business before it--in a plaza hidden behind other buildings, directly across the highway from the highly visible Staples.

Please, tell me, why would anyone sink hundreds of thousands of dollars into such a venture?

Our outgoing administration says "no one could have forseen the current economic crisis" while thousands of average Americans (not enough of them) were thinking years ago, "Damn, better get these credit cards under control before the crap hits the fan." They were the smart ones. Mark and I used to talk about keeping the farm just because we might actually need it to feed ourselves and our neighbors.

Everyone was not clueless. We wanted to be wrong, of course. Because, after all, we aren't the experts.

And, by the way auto industry, you might try marketing a small, affordable two-wheel drive truck for working America, like the Chevy S-10 and Ford Ranger used to be? Like, is this not a no-brainer? Apparently so, because while Detroit is currently swearing they'll build more economical gas-wise CARS, they still haven't addressed an affordable TRUCK...the lifeblood of the good old U.S.A. They wonder why people like myself hang onto two old beater S-10s rather than buy a new truck?

Maybe this is why. The "value model" has foglamps and Onstar? And maybe I should buy a $300,000 house to go with it.

Again...we average folk aren't the experts, and it seems rather obvious to us. The Geo drivers of America are wondering where their 45 mpg cars have gone and why we are being told over a decade later that 29 mpg is "excellent."

When it's cold out, I get crazy

I've been following the progress of my teapot on Gary's blog. If you look, you can see it in the background of this photo, drying, with its little kitty next to it.

I have become a teapot lurker!

Fireplace works too well

I went to flush my toilet this morning and noticed that toilet paper hadn't gone down from the previous flush. Hmmmmmmm....

I made sure I had the plunger at hand before I flushed again, and sure enough, the water started to rise. It went down when I attended to it with the plunger, but once again, toilet paper emerged. Hmmmmmmm...

I opened the door to the cellar, which, conveniently, is located in the bathroom, and BRRRRRRRRrrrr! It was cold down there! Because, of course, the furnace in the cellar has not been running because the fireplace has been keeping it plenty warm upstairs near the thermostat. My toilet was having issues with icy pipes, probably where it left the house and met the ground.

So I turned on the furnace, boiled some water, flushed that down the toilet, and resolved that I won't wake up to rebuild the fire at 4:00 am when it normally goes out, and will just let it die down and have the furnace kick in for about 4 hours. Then I'll crank the furnace for a nice warm shower in the a.m. and revert back to the fireplace after that.

Nothing is simple.

One chore leads to another...

And if you want the rewards, you gotta do the chores. I got up this morning and, of course, would like a cup of coffee and to read the Sunday paper. But the fire has died down. To build the fire, I need to empty ashes, but the ash bucket is full. To dump the ashes, I need to shovel, because it's a waste to throw ashes on top of 4" of snow (I already shoveled the previous 4" last night). So I shoveled, dispersed ashes on my slippery walk and driveway, cleaned the fireplace into the ash bucket, built a fire, and Ah! now have my coffee and paper.

But the cartoon section was missing this week. :( Oh well, there are worse things in life.

Damned snow

I'm supposed to be heading out for Eliza and Kagan's baby shower (in a bowling alley in Syracuse no less - what a hoot!) and I'm looking at storm arriving on my doorstep now.



If I outrun it now, I still have to drive back through it.

Damn!

I may be buying a shower gift online.

And we had fire

Yesterday the new fireplace insert arrived. And the furnace has only kicked in twice since then--once at 4:00 am when the fire had died down, and once when I was washing dishes and it started up to heat the water. We are officially a wood-burning home once again.

They had the new chimney liner and the stove in, and the old stove out, in short order. I had hoped the old insert might fit in the great room fireplace, but no go--the fireplace is too small. In fact, they felt that I might better get rid of the mantle, put in a nice hearth, fill in the wall, and put in a stand-alone woodstove. But that's for another year. I can't even imagine how much that would cost.

So the great room is now closed down for the rest of the winter, and I've moved into the den. Of course I had to move the ottoman in here for the cats. Ivan is pleased to have a fire again, and Norma, the upstairs cat, surely is as well, because the fireplace heats the room above, and she's no longer living in a chilly winter wonderland.

So I am now back into the Frugality Zone. I had my little two months of luxury but now its time to save money and be sensible.

This is why there is poetry

Thank you to May, for sending this, and Vikki for sharing it:

AFTER A WHILE
by Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while, you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises,
And you begin to accept defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you begin to build all your roads on today
Because tomorow's ground is too uncertain for plans.
And future have a way of falling in mid-flight.
After a while, you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong.
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn...
With every goodbye, you learn.

"So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers."

Thank you, May.

Happy New Year!

If you aren't reading about our cats on the Wildrun blog, perhaps you were watching the Towers change at Ithaca College.



I used to help the flip the switches to change the year on the Towers at midnight. They turn on the fire alarms at midnight so everyone can flip their switch at once (just in case you local were wondering how it's done). In the old days, it really was one person per room, but now they are able to string a whole floor on one switch. I haven't done it for two years, so they may have rigged it differently. But it sure was fun.

Thanks, IC, for sending this photo to me tonight! And Happy New Year to you all.