Bok Bok & Woof

Oh, it was a grand day yesterday to go play with the grand-pets, sunny and cold and not windy.  Well, I would have liked it better if it hadn't been cold but what can you do?  You deal with what you've got.  Porter actually listened to me when I told her to sit and stay while I opened her crate and then she waited to come out until I said "okay."  DIL1 told me that she makes her wait and I thought I should model good granny behavior so that I have lots of practice for when there's a human grand-pet, uh, grand-baby to play with in the snow.  (I hope they won't make it sleep in a crate when they're at work... nah, they wouldn't)  Porter was so glad to see me and to go out to play in the snow that she didn't eat her breakfast.  I put some food in her bowl and gave her fresh water and she ignored both in favor of pleading with me to take her outside.  Okay.  Durwood had kept a nice bag of peels for Henny & Penny so I let myself into the coop to spread them around.  H&P were still in the roost (well, who wouldn't be with those naked little feet?) but as soon as the peels hit the snow out they came clucking and chirring their thanks.  They don't let me pet them like the first Henny did but I know that they are grateful for the yummy veggie peels.  (I wonder if we gave them onion peels if the eggs would taste onion-y.  I'll have to ask DIL1, she knows chicken lore.)  Porter and I found 3 tennis balls masquerading as ice balls that we played with for a while and of course when I turned on the video on my camera she sat down in the snow and just looked at me.  Tsk.  I threw the balls and talked baby talk to her (so embarrassing to hear on the video scrap) but she just gave me that "are you nuts?" look so I gave up, turned it off, and then she came frolicking toward me.  She's a princess.  When we went back inside she went right into her crate (good, Porter) so I clanged the door shut, gave her a little treat through the bars, and went out to continue my errands.  But then I saw their discarded Xmas tree at the curb so I nabbed it to lean against the honeysuckle out back to be the birdie tree for this winter.  It's a good thing that I have what car makers classify as a station wagon because I flopped down half of the backseat and pulled the butt of the tree up to touch the back of the front passenger seat (hey, I'm not knocking myself in the head if I have to stop fast) and it fit.  Yay recycling!  I had to stop at Copps anyway so I picked up a big jar of house-brand peanut butter to spread on the branches to make the birdseed stick.  There's lots of fat in cheap PB and fat's something that wintering birds need.  I'm also going to melt some suet to drizzle on the boughs since if I put chunks of suet cake out the squirrels gnaw it off and take it away, the hogs.  Getting the tree into the backyard was fun.  I had my snowshoes in the car so I snapped them on, promptly crossed the backs and fell right down.  Tsk.  But like a good little Weeble I popped right back up, remembered to toe-in so that didn't happen again, and tromped around the house dragging my prize.  In the process I learned that I've been fooling myself that I'm in any kind of shape other than "terrible," at least when it comes to outdoor exertion.  Terrible.  So I'll be back on the Exercycle today and I think I'll tromp around the house on my snowshoes a few times.  Or maybe I'll just wear them to fill the feeders and decorate the birdie tree.  Yeah, that'd be good since I intend to say yes the next time KW calls and wants to play snowshoes in the park between our houses for an hour.  *nods confidently*

January 5--Thomas Cole, The Titan's Goblet.  Clara woke that Wednesday morning and felt extra small.  It seemed to take her hours to scoot to the edge of her bed and it looked very far down to the floor where her red slippers rested.  She held tight to the blanket so that she wouldn't fall as she eased herself over the side, pointing her toes to touch the floor before letting go.  Her mama wished her a good morning and didn't notice that she'd shrunk to nearly mouse-size overnight.  Papa swung her over his head and gave her a whiskery kiss before gently setting her in her chair.  She peered over the edge of the table at her Peter Rabbit cereal bowl that was the size of a wading pool and the Cheerios that Mama was pouring sounded like falling boulders as they hit the china dish.  How would she manage to eat when a single oatey oh was big enough for her to wear like a life preserver around her middle?

Well, that was fun to write.  It came screaming out so fast I could barely move my pencil to keep up.  Whew.  Hey, Durwood's off having breakfast with a few Census 2000 pals so I'm off to have my solitary breakfast and revel in the solitude.  Toodles.
--Barbara Sue