We should be running some sort of a pool featuring everyone’s best guess as to what season we’re REAAaaaaaLLY in and what the weather is going to be like for the next hour-and-a-half. The prize could be a set of mukluks and/or a half-gallon of suntan lotion.
The ?Old Farmer’s Almanac ?wasn’t real helpful in maintaining a positive attitude : It had a small sidebar article on The Great New England Ice Storm of December 11-12, 2008. Told about being without power for more than a week, power lines down, trees and branches snapping, a church wedding lit by candles and vows marked by puffs of fog. One snippet I could sympathize with was the hardship of going for a week without a shower–that’s hard–on everyone. There was also a comforting list of examples of people taking care of their neighbors and reminders of preventive measures to be taken. It also mentions that the GNEIS came 12 years after the previous big freezing event and opines that we’re (us too?) due for another. Let us devoutly hope not!
Also duly noted, St. Nicholas’ Day on the 6th, St. Ambrose’s Day on the 7th, St. Eulalia on the 10th and St.Lucia on the 13th. St. Nicholas and St. Lucia have got some undoubtedly well-deserved recognition, what with the distribution of gifts and young girls wearing crowns of candles and all, but what’s the rap on St. Eulalia and St Ambrose? St.Eulalia (both of them, actually, from Barcelona and from Merida) was one of the virgin martyrs who refused to renounce her faith, suffering horrendous torture and death. Ambrose got off much more easily (except, perhaps, the swarm of bees that landed on his face as an infant, according to legend) being one of the four original Doctors of the Church, and a promoter of antiphonal chant in worship (Don’t hear much of that around either). No Ho-Ho-Ho-ing for that lot.
So…anyway…the porch kitties are, once again, appreciative of their frost-free water dish and they are nothing if not adaptive. I came out to feed them on one of those beyond-chilly mornings recently and found that somebody–either them or the transients that show up for the free lunch (midnight snack is more like it)–had emptied the water bowl. O.K., the bowl has no water in it, but it’s NOT empty; there’s a cat sitting in it. It’s Ghost, the gray guy with a whisp of white on his chest, getting a homemade hot seat. Took his time about getting out, too. Apparently, the kitty condo that he’d been allotted for the previous evening was not to his liking, so he’d improvised. Ha!
I’ve finally got the birdfeeders out and filled. The squirrels have taken at least one down, at last check. For some reason, the niger seed doesn’t seem to be very popular this year. Sunflower seed is another thing altogether. They’re wolfing that down. Got some dried mealworms again, which seem to be pretty popular.
Good grief! I’m sitting here slaving away over a smokin’ keyboard and there’s thunder outside. Past sundown; can’t be an announcement of Chanukkah. Anyone who isn’t getting the whole climate change thing isn’t paying attention. It’s sixty degrees out there! On December 2. You’d better be battening down the hatches for all of the Advent and Christmas and end-of-year activities on the calendar. This weekend features the “Sounds of the Season” by the Hiram Community Chorus on Friday in the Hiram Christian Church, “The Glory of Christmas” on Sunday in the Garrettsville United Methodist Church, featuring the adult Chancel Choir and a children’s choir, Jesu Chimes, Chancel I & II bell choirs. Music and then some! (Sorry, I didn’t get the memo on the St. Ambrose program***This just in : Sunday, the 16th at 3:00 p.m.) And then there are the usual club and organization parties
Bulletin : Bats are also celebrating. Warmer spells during the winter always do this. One errant party-goer showed up at the house here on Sunday evening. He/she was ratted out by the cats, who were up on the bookshelf–with all of the detritus that usually winds up there–looking intently for something and there was that tell-tale squeaking and scrabbling of some creature that wanted to be someplace–anyplace–else. For a few moments I thought it was just the cat bell collars, but, no, it was entirely different and it persisted even after I shooed the cats away. So, at that point, I had had it, and after sticking something on top of the area where the noise was coming from, I gave up the fight and called the landscaper dude to take a turn as a wildlife manager. When he got here, the d—-d beast had disappeared, noise and all. Santa Claus is definitely going to get a report on that naughty little bugger. Lumps of coal for sure!
