This Bud's for you.

When I drove into town today, I noticed that there was a dead armadillo along the side of our road that goes up towards the main highway.  On any given week, there could be something on that road that has been either been hit by a car or killed by other animals.  We've seen rabbits, squirrels, snakes, a wild hog, birds, chickens, a cat, possums, a raccoon, and the very unlucky armadillos which seem to get hit most of all.

During the weekday mornings, my friends and I walk from our homes all the way down the winding road to the main highway. Along the way, we give snacks to the neighbors' horses and also look for discarded trash that we pick up with a long clippy-thing. It's such a pretty road and none of us understand why people would want to toss anything out of their windows and have it land in the wildflowers.

So when I saw that armadillo today, I figured that during tomorrow's walk, we would have to move it off of the road edge so it's covered up in the brush. Within a day or so, the vultures will find it and begin their feast. (Right now, about a dozen vultures are busy with a deer that was hit on the main highway... I saw that poor thing while I was driving back from town today.)

But getting to the "Bud" and to the texting that went up and down this road tonight---

This evening, the following texts went back and forth from my phone to a friend's phone:

"Are we walking tomorrow?"
Yes, said I.
"Someone put a beer can in the paws of that dead armadillo. For the record, it was not I."
Me neither.  But should we bring him some chips?
"Leave it to you to think of that... such a good hostess."
Not that good... I forgot the salsa.

To continue along with the story, another friend (also in the walking group) had taken a photo of the dead armadillo clutching the beer can, and she forwarded that photo to us, with the caption "Here lies Erma Dillo."
Within seconds, the first friend texted back: "She had a beer, but nary a pillow."

My final text to my walking friends was this: "If I die on the road, please don't give me a beer can."
To which one texted back: "How about a teapot with lots of sparkles?"
My reply to that was: "Perfect, but no photos."
The first friend texted: "No promises... it may be hard to restrain you-know-who."

I think all the texting is done for the night.... and we'll be laughing about it in the morning. (To protect everyone involved, I didn't even type their initials.)

Honestly.... I couldn't make up this stuff if I tried.

I could just scream...

And  no, I haven't seen another snake.  It's these blasted handymen (an oxymoron if ever there was one).

We are spoiled because our first handyman, W, was here on time every time, without fail. He worked hard, took half an hour for lunch, and was unfailingly polite and trustworthy. The one and only reason we can't get him back here now.... he has gone on to bigger jobs, not handyman-type work. Great for him, horrible for us. The W days are over.

After W, we had a few men working here from time to time, none of whom we were pleased with...... we never asked them to come back a second time. There were also a few handymen who seemed to want to do the jobs, but then didn't show up.  When that happens, I don't call them to ask if we're still on their to-do list.... I just toss out their phone numbers and forget them.

After those guys, we found JP and his son. They got here on time, worked hard, unfailingly polite and trustworthy. How could we have been so lucky twice?  We thought we'd hit pay-dirt. However..... JP is very well-known around this town, and he has a waiting list of work.  We're on his list, but it will be a while before he can get to us. Fine. Except last week, JP called and asked if he could send his son over here to do the handyman-type jobs, saving the large jobs for himself. Also fine.

Or so I thought. Give me a blessed break.

On the first day that JP's son was supposed to be here, he couldn't make it..... he lives and works on a farm, and that's his first priority. If something happens on the farm, he has to be there to fix it, do it,whatever it takes. And that's what happened.  "I will see you tomorrow," he told me.

The next morning, he was here......but  he worked for just three hours, then he wanted to be paid so he could go home. Apparently, he was up all night taking care of whatever broke at the farm job. Fine, fine, fine. "I will see you tomorrow," he told me. Fine.

And that was this morning. No sign of him, no phone call.  An hour past the time he should have been here, he sent me a text: "Having problems on the farm. Have to fix it. I will most likely see you tomorrow."  Most likely???  Is that really fine?  No, it certainly isn't.  Because now we've got the job half-done, and the wood needs to be primed and painted.

My husband and I went to the barn to look at the project. On the way there, my husband said to me "How about if you and I do this?"   My first thought was Sure, we could do this.

Then I looked at the barn.... and saw how high up some of that wood was that would need to be painted. Plus all the steps up to the guest rooms, plus the railings, the spindles... give me a blessed country break. Definitely not my kind of painting.  I've done painting inside the house... one wall a day with a brush (I'm too messy with a roller). I did three bedrooms that way, and they all look beautiful, and I was happy to do them and very satisfied with the results.

But let me repeat..... that painting was inside the house.  I didn't have to deal with the wind, the bugs, the wasps, the bees, the fire ants, and all I needed was a three-step ladder, not a ladder that's taller than I am.  Add to that the fact that my husband paints slower than I do.... he may be a whole lot neater, but we're not matched in speed, and I'd end up doing more of that painting than he would...... and I'd be so ticked off with the whole process that I'd be cranky as soon as I saw the first wasp or bee.

No. No. No. I am not painting the outside of that blessed barn.  We'll see if JP's son shows up tomorrow morning. And if he doesn't, then we'll find another person to do it. Or we will just wait till JP has time to finish the job that his son started. Funny thing is that when the son works with JP, they get the job done, they do it right, and everything is just fine. Without the father, the son is just not wanting to work.                            

To paraphrase that old saying..... This particular apple did indeed fall very far from the tree. In fact, this apple fell off the tree and rolled all the way down the hill and landed in another county.

"You are freaking kidding me!"

And those were the words I said out loud as I walked into the bathroom of the guest cottage this afternoon.  And as soon as those words came out of my mouth, my throat closed up and I started to run out of the cottage and back towards the house.

Into the kitchen I went, through the hallway towards the front door, and I yelled upstairs to my husband: "There's a snake in the cottage!!!"   Next thing I heard was his footsteps as he came rushing down the staircase, asking me where it was exactly.

"In the bathroom," I told him.
"Did you shut the door so he couldn't get out of there?"
"I didn't think of that... I just ran out."
"How big is the snake?" my husband wanted to know.
"Maybe two feet long."
"What color?"
"Brown."  (I resisted the urge to tell him that the snake was red, white and blue and what difference did it make what color it was.)

 I had gone into the cottage to let the water run, which I do every week to keep the water fresh and clear.... as I turned away from the sink, my eye caught a long brown rope that shouldn't have been there on the white porcelain tub.  After living out here for five years, I knew right away what that damn rope thing was, which was why I said "You are freaking kidding me!" to no one in particular.  Or maybe I was directing that comment to the snake itself.

When we got to the cottage, I stayed by the front door while my husband walked into the bathroom. Thankfully, the snake was still there in the same place. Now it was my turn to ask the questions.
"Is it moving?"
"No."
"How big is it?"
"Your assessment of its size was correct... it's about two feet long."  (My assessment of its size? How can he be so blasted technical in that type of situation?)

I asked my husband how he was going to get him out of there.  "The shop vac," he said.  "I'll use that to suck him up from that ledge, take the shop vac outside, and then I'll shoot him."

While my husband kept an eye on the snake, I went to get the gun, then I rolled the shop vac out of the garage and towards the cottage.  The snake just stayed where it was even as I made all that racket with the shop vac.  We put the gun on the porch of the cottage, but my husband brought the shop vac into the cottage bathroom. As my husband got everything plugged in and set up, he told me to hit the 'start' button on the count of three.

Honestly, you can't make this stuff up.

So there we were..... my husband trying to suck up a two-foot long brown snake into the shop vac while I had my arm stretched out as far as it could go while keeping myself away from the door of that bathroom.

The snake, however, had no intention of getting vacuumed up by that long black hose connected to that noisy machine.  As my husband held the shop vac hose near the snake, it started wriggling and fighting and backing away, and eventually found a slice of space around the ridge of the tub, which sits up on a tiled platform.  Apparently, whoever installed that tub left just enough space for a small snake to slither through once it found its way underneath the cottage itself.

Well, now what?  There's still a snake in the cottage, even though it's not in plain sight.  We got those glue-trap things that we use for mice..... my husband put two of those near that thin opening by the tub, which is probably how the snake got up there on the ledge in the first place.  Then we shut the bathroom door, and my husband used duct tape to seal off the space underneath the bathroom door.  If the snake does get up through that opening around the tub again, he will get caught on the glue traps, and if the glue traps don't get him, at least he won't be able to slither out underneath the bathroom door and go into hiding underneath the bed or the sofa.

Give me a blessed break........ there is just always, always, always something out here in the hills that gets my heart racing and my head spinning, and my peace of mind just shot all to hell and back.

And you can count on this certain fact:  I will not be the one pulling that duct tape off of that bathroom door to see if the snake has gotten caught on those glue traps.

And then there were two...

After weeks of hearing the peacock down the road calling out for a mate, there are now two peacocks roaming around the property here.  The one from the neighbor's down the road, and another one with shorter feathers that I've never seen before. Only problem for that male peacock who has been searching for a mate--- the second peacock is also a male. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

The two peacocks were strutting their feathers in our side yard the other day.... around and around they went, stopping for a drink of water from the fountain in front of the house, and then they continued their promenade around the lawn and then decided to visit other neighbors further up the hill.  I called up friend S and told her to look out her front windows and she would see the peacock parade headed her way. (It doesn't take much to get our attention out here in the hills, let me tell you.)

That second peacock has very short tail-feathers, and S told us that it takes a good three years for those long and beautiful tail feathers to fully grow out on a male peacock.  The original peacock has those very long feathers, and the weight of all that colorful finery doesn't seem to bother him at all.  We've seen that male up on the roof of his owner's house, and up in the trees of their yard, and even perched on their children's trampoline in the backyard.

I haven't seen either of those peacocks today, nor have I heard their mating calls. I'm wondering if they've gone off into the woods to explore more secluded areas... on the hunt for peahens that want to settle down and start a family.  (As I said... it doesn't take much....)

Why did the peacock cross the road?

..... To get to the other side, of course.

This afternoon as I was putting groceries away after a trip into town, I noticed that both Mickey and Gatsby were out on the side porch with their heads and whiskers peeking through the slats of the porch railing.  Before I could get out there to see what was in the yard (and muttering "Now what?!" as I walked towards the door), our inside cat Sweet Pea jumped up to the kitchen window, wide-eyed and staring out of the glass towards the lawn near the pecan trees.

I was hoping that the neighbor's cows hadn't gotten out again..... last time that happened, they were all over the front yard and heading towards the picket fence, which they could have easily trampled.  I got out on the porch, and there wasn't a cow in sight..... but there was a peacock.  Gorgeous, full-grown, full-feathered, glorious peacock, which belongs to our neighbors down the road. This is the same peacock that we can hear day-in and day-out as he calls out for a mate.  I don't think he's found one yet..... otherwise, why would he have walked all the way up our hill and around our yard.  That's a long walk for a peacock, and I'm guessing that all those beautiful tail-feathers must be a heavy burden to drag around.

Earlier today on our morning walk, S and I happened to see that peacock up on the roof of the neighbor's house.  I had no idea that a peacock could fly that high, but S owned peacocks years ago and she said they also used to sleep on the roof of her house.  I guess the higher he goes, the safer the peacock feels, and he doesn't have to worry about predators in the night.

During the day, however, any predator around can probably find that peacock easily... his loud mating call wouldn't be missed for miles around. Makes me wonder.. if a peahen is indeed around in the woods somewhere, will she come out of there and follow the sounds of this peacock?  And if the neighbor's peacock mates with a peahen from the woods......... would we call the hatchlings "pea-babies" until we knew if they were males or females?

Easter Sunday

Our fields are still bursting with wildflowers.... they look like small oceans of mostly bluebonnets, with red and yellow flowers sprinkled in here and there.  This has been the best Spring for wildflowers in a few years now.  Gorgeous days again.... warm and sunny, bright blue skies... not hot enough to put the air-conditioning on, but warm enough to make you forget the cold snaps of this past winter.

We stayed at home today.... I made crab-cakes for dinner with lump crab meat that my husband brought home from the Gulf fish markets in Clear Lake.  I truly miss those just-caught ocean treasures from those fish markets, but now our freezer is filled with huge Gulf shrimp for us to enjoy over the summer months.

I spent part of this afternoon making another batch of Hummingbird Cupcakes. The first batch was for the tea party with J and J's granddaughters last week.  The cupcakes are all gone, but I had some creamcheese frosting left over, so I made more cupcakes. Love that recipe! And this time I added less chopped bananas and more chopped strawberries. (When you do that, you can cut down on the amount of sugar the recipe calls for.)

The barn swallows continue to build their nests on the back porch. One particular nest has been progressing to the size of a bird-condo.  An over-achieving swallow just doesn't know when to quit building.  When she lays her eggs and the babies hatch, they're going to have a hard time getting out of that nest. I hope the mama bird has also built a little ladder.

That big hole by the front steps.... whatever was digging out the dirt there has given up. I haven't had to re-fill that hole for three or four days now, so I'm hoping that the critter that was trying to make a home there has moved elsewhere.

Orange Kitty continues to come by for his Meow Mix.  First thing every morning, as soon as I wake up, I go downstairs to the back door and there he is, sitting quietly on the door mat..... he sees me through the window and gives me a hungry meow.... I put out the cat food, he waits till I pat his head a few times, and then he enjoys his breakfast in peace before I let Gatsby outside for the day.  It never fails...... cats have such patience... they just wait and wait till you have followed through with their training plan.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you glad you finally gave in to me?

Creatures and critters...

That mysterious pile of dirt by the front steps.... I've shoveled that dirt back into the hole at least half a dozen times now.  An animal cannot be trapped inside the hole because the pile of dirt is always tossed up from in front of the hole, not pushed out from within. (A little Nancy Drew deduction there.)  Whatever animal uses that hole as its hiding place is just as stubborn as I am..... I keep filling up the hole, he keeps digging the dirt out again.

The back porch buffet.... to date, the Meow Mix has been enjoyed by three raccoons, two foxes, our own Gatsby and Mickey, sort of our own Orange Kitty, a small beige cat with a brown tail, and one possum.  I also saw an armadillo out in the yard but I don't think it would have been able to climb up the porch steps to get to the cat food. The barn swallows who have made their nests above the porch columns have also made use of the bowl of water that I keep out there for the cats. I've seen the birds perched on the rim of the water bowl, taking a sip now and again when the cats are sleeping.  I think Gatsby watches the birds through sleepy eyes.... that cat usually doesn't expend energy chasing after something he's not likely to catch.

The little beige cat with the brown tail.... he's a feral cat who has been around here from time to time. As soon as he sees one of the other cats, or me, he takes off across the yard. Definitely doesn't want either feline or human company, and that's fine with me.  Orange Kitty still meows his way up the porch steps, and is trying his best to make friends with Gatsby.  In Gatsby's world, he's King of the Cat Kingdom here, and he howls his displeasure at every stray cat that comes along.  Mickey, on the other hand, doesn't seem to mind other cats coming around.... he'll hiss and carry on the first time he sees a stray cat, but if that cat comes by again and again, then Mickey is more than willing to share the Meow Mix.

Orange Kitty has definitely forgiven us for the air horn my husband used to scare him from the porch.  That orange/white cat is out by our back door before the sun comes up every morning, and he waits there patiently till either me or my husband puts out a bowl of Meow Mix. (We don't leave food out there at night anymore, to discourage the foxes, raccoons, and possums.)  When I put the dish of cat food on the porch in the morning, Orange Kitty will sit there and wait to be petted before he starts eating, which is a huge improvement over his non-involvement with us.  When he first started coming up on the porch, he made it clear that all he wanted was to be fed, not to be touched or even spoken to. (Which is when the air horn came out of the closet.)  Since we stopped with the air horn noises, Orange Kitty has been trying to make friends with Gatsby, and has made it clear to us that he's comfortable here.

In my mind, we still have three cats.... Gatsby and Mickey outside, and Sweet Pea inside.  Orange Kitty belongs to the pastures, and to the barn.... he just lets us feed him and pet his head every day, but he's clearly a cat of the hills.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you ever going to let me in the house?

(No. No. No.)

Stupid weather, once again.

We thought Spring had really begun here, but the stupid weather was out there hiding, waiting for all of us to get into that warm-weather mode of beautifully sunny and breezy days. The weather gods have once again proven just who's in charge.

The weekend was warm and mild..... Saturday being the most beautiful day, with bright sun and very warm temperatures. Everyone was out taking photos in the wildflower fields. (A must-do thing for Texans when the bluebonnets are blooming in the Hill Country.)  Yesterday's weather was over-cast and very humid, and we knew that rain was on its way.

However, the rain we got this morning was over-the-top and uncalled for at this time of the year, especially since the temperature dropped at least thirty degrees in less than two hours.  Along with the rain, we had thunder and lightning. (Translation:  The weather gods were saying Take that! And that!!!!)

It is supposed to be very cold tonight, around 38 degrees with a very stiff wind.  We are in the middle of April, with Easter just about three heart-beats away.  The weather gods need to get a new calender. I think the ones they have are stuck in February.

Speaking of stuck..... that hole by the front steps definitely has been a favorite home to some sort of night-time creature. I've filled up that hole with dirt at least four times now, and all I get for my trouble is another pile of dirt that has been dug back out of the hole by whoever/whatever is trying to claim that spot as its own.

For all I know, there may be an armadillo or a raccoon or a possum under all that dirt. I filled the hole back up this morning and even took the shovel and tamped it down some.  As I type, there might be an animal deep down in that hole... he may be able to dig himself out later on tonight, and he may be stuck there for all eternity.  And today, as I sit here typing and listening to the wind and the rain outside, I don't much care what happens down underneath all that dirt.

Digging to..... where?

It's always something, honestly.  And since there's no way to put a huge bubble over our property, it's just easier to watch carefully, walk slowly, listen, and learn. (And if all else fails, get the gun.)

There was a huge pile of dirt near the front steps last week. I have no idea how long it's been there because the dirt pile was hidden behind the bushes in front of the house. Now that the weather has turned very warm and very Texas-like, I've been using the garden hose near the front steps on a regular basis..... and that's how I discovered the dirt pile.

At first glance, I thought it was a massive ant hill. But fire ants tend to build their mounds neatly, and they're more of a round and wide shape, not a blessed hill that's nearly 18 inches high. Plus, the dirt on top of that pile was tossed on top, not pushed up from underneath the ground.  Looking closely at that dirt pile, I could see that a tunnel had been dug near the pile, right under the paving stones surrounding the front steps.  Clearly, some wildlife critter had been digging himself a very nice (and deep) tunnel under the steps.

We set out the trap one night, and baited it with a hard-boiled egg. Surely a raccoon or an armadillo would have feasted on that egg had it come out of its hiding place after dark.... and my husband made sure to set the catch/release trap right at the entrance to that hole... no way could anything have gotten out of there and not ended up in the trap.

The next morning, the trap was empty and the egg was still there. Fine. We came to the conclusion that both the dirt pile and the tunnel had been there a while and was now abandoned.  Out came the shovel and the rake, and I got most of the dirt back into that hole, and we put the trap back into the garage. The egg, needless to say, went into the trash.

And what did I find this afternoon when I turned on that garden hose by the front steps?  All of that dirt that I had pushed back into that hole was now piled up in a careless mountain right by the water faucet. Give me a blessed break.  I am not going to boil another egg and put it out there in that stupid trap. Every time I touch that blasted trap, I leave a broken fingernail inside of it, and I just put on a fresh coat of nail polish this morning.

Instead of going into the garage and getting the trap, I got the rake and the shovel.  Back into that hole went the dirt. Not all of it, because part of that dirt pile is now behind one of the sago palms and those branches aren't exactly soft when they brush against your skin.  I didn't pack the dirt down very tightly because if there is an animal in that tunnel right now, I don't want to trap him under there for the rest of his sorry life.  If anything is hiding in there as I type, it will dig itself out of the hole tonight, and then tomorrow morning I will find another dirt pile by the steps.

And then what?  Fill up the hole with the dirt again?  Or just get the garden hose, push it into that tunnel as far as I can, and then turn on the water and create an indoor swimming pool for whatever blessed creature is underneath those paving stones.

I repeat: It's always something.

Fur and feathers....

The fur........   The fox was back on the porch this evening, just before it got dark outside.  Our inside cat Sweet Pea heard him on the porch and he ran from the TV room to the kitchen to get a better look from the window. I hadn't heard a thing, but Sweet Pea's feline warning system is hardly ever wrong, so I looked out the door and there was the fox, about to have a taste of the Meow Mix that I'd left out there for Orange Kitty.

As soon as I opened the door, the fox ran towards the back of the porch and just looked at me...... when he saw me go out on the porch, he ran off into the yard.  Just what we need here, a fox who's brave enough to come right up to the back door.  The fox didn't come back tonight, but Orange Kitty did, meowing loudly because there was no Meow Mix out there for him.  I went out on the porch and put the food bowl there for him, and left it till he seemed to have had enough.  I guess I can't leave cat food out there anymore because I'll have every fox in the hills waiting on line for Meow Mix.


The feathers....... One of the neighbors has a peacock....... beautiful male with the usual bright display of colors. Problem with the peacock is that he doesn't have a peahen for company. So every hour of every day this past week, he's been calling out his loneliness in hopes that a peahen might hear him and heed his pleas for companionship.  The peacock's calls are extremely loud, and at the very beginning of his vocal efforts, he sounds like a very loud cat.  The first meow syllable quickly dissolves into a high-pitched cry of angst, however, which probably scares every cat within hearing distance.

Perhaps the peacock needs to post an ad in the local paper:  "Male peacock looking for companionship, with possibility of life-long commitment.... must like long walks in the woods, sleeping in pecan trees, and dining al fresco."

Bye, Bye Birdie...

I found one of the female barn swallows in the flower bed this afternoon... she was just laying there in the mulch, looking very pretty, but also very dead.  The nest that's above that corner of the flowerbed is now without the female of the pair. The male is still sitting there, but I'm sure he's not going to be sitting on the tiny eggs that the female has left behind. My guess is that the bird flew into one of the porch columns... they fly around the porch so fast at times that it's a wonder there aren't more dead birds out there every day.

I picked up the dead bird and showed it to my husband....... the colors of the bird's feathers are an iridescent blue with white and black markings.... very very pretty, and it's such a delicate bird.  My husband asked me if I was sure that it was dead.  Well, she had been laying motionless in the dust-pan for about twenty minutes before I showed it to him, so that's about as dead as the poor bird can get.

"Well," said my husband, "she's in a better place."

Oh. Does that mean all dead female birds go to SteinMart?

Guess Who's Coming for Meow Mix?

Well, let's see... it's been getting a little crowded on the back porch this past weekend.  Along with Orange Kitty, there is now a small white-ish cat with a dark brown tail who has been munching on the Meow Mix. I don't know how long he's been out there, but I saw him just the other day. He was walking around the yard as if he knew his way around the property, then he walked around the garage, and then he made his way to the back porch for the cat food.  I just watched him and let him eat.... he's very small, and seems to be a young cat.

Later that same day, I heard a noise on the back porch and there was the little white cat again... time for more Meow Mix. I was at the window and just watching him, trying to see the markings on his face, but he never did turn towards the window. Definitely a 'new' cat around here, though. Is Orange Kitty telling his friends about the cat food buffet?

After the white cat finished eating, he sat underneath one of the chairs and started to clean his paws. As I was watching him, a fox came up onto the porch...... a huge fox. So big that I thought it was a dog at first, but that pointed nose and the long bushy tail was beyond a doubt... it was a brown fox. As the fox sniffed the door mat, the white cat continued to clean his paws.  Would the fox attack the small cat? I had no idea but didn't intend to find out.  I turned the door knob and at the first clicking sound, that fox ran (flew!) off the porch, down the steps and out into the yard. The movement of the fox scared the white cat and he ran off as well, but he ran in the same direction as the fox......... I have no idea what happened to either one of them, but I'm hoping that they both kept running till they were miles away.

In the front of the house, behind the bushes near the outdoor faucet for the water hose, I found a huge mound of dirt that had been dug out from under the paving stones around the steps. Something has definitely made a home underneath those stones, and possibly dug far enough to make a tunnel underneath the front steps.  The small mountain of dirt that they moved as that tunnel was dug is over twelve inches tall.... what on earth could dig that much?  Certainly not a cute little bunny.  We're thinking it's a raccoon, or now that fox is also a good possibility.  My husband is going to set the catch/release trap out there tonight..... whatever scampers out of that tunnel tonight is going to be caught inside that cage.

Always an adventure out here..... and not often a good one.

Hide and seek.

Mickey Kitty has discovered new hiding places around the yard these past few weeks. When the days were colder, he was sleeping right on the back porch chairs, and I made sure to put warm pillow-beds there so he wouldn't get a chill. (No, my cats are not spoiled.)

Now that the weather has turned warmer (close to 80 degrees) Mickey has decided to go into hiding.  He's either taking his naps under the porch steps or he's squished in under the rose bushes and the wild blackberries near the coop. Why he chooses to lay in the dirt in that particular flower bed is just beyond me..... I'm hoping that he doesn't come out covered in ants one day. Or worse, fire ants.

This morning before I went into town, I looked around for Mickey and couldn't find him in his usual spots, so I walked over to the barn to see if he had found yet another hiding spot.  Once I got into the barn, I started calling him, but the meow that came back to me was definitely not Mickey. (Each cat has a distinctive meow, and if you know your cats well, you can recognize them by the sounds they make.)

I called out to Mickey again, and that same high-pitched meow came floating down from somewhere above my head.... and that particular meow was Orange Kitty.  I know that meow very well because it's the same meow he uses to announce his visits to our back porch. I followed the sound of Orange Kitty's meows and I could see where he's been spending his days..... on top of the laundry room that's on the first floor of that barn.  We don't use that room, but the water heater is in there for the barn's guest rooms, and when they enclosed that little room, they didn't go all the way up to the higher ceiling of the barn...... there's a ten-foot ceiling in the laundry room, and Orange Kitty must have climbed up the wood siding inside that barn and found himself a nice cozy spot up there.  So that's where he's been hiding all of these weeks....... sleeping during the day, then coming to the back porch around dinner time to get his Meow Mix.

While I was in the barn, I saw some fluffs of gray and white fur..... my guess is that those tufts of fur once belonged to mice.  Orange Kitty must be earning his Meow Mix by hunting down the field mice that no doubt go in and out of the barn on a daily basis.  As I looked up at that flat wood ceiling, I saw two little orange ears sticking up over the trim.... and a teeny tiny meow came from up there... but Orange Kitty never raised his head enough to let me see the rest of his face. Protecting his hiding spot, no doubt.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you glad I'm catching all those mice?

Waiting.... and waiting...

.... for these handymen to return a blessed phone call.  I just don't get it.... they put ads in the local paper, saying they "do it all," and then they list everything from cleaning out barns to power-washing to digging up weeds.

The ads sound so promising..... so of course I call.  No answer, so I leave a message.  Let's see.... how many hours ago was that?  At least eight or nine, but who's counting.

Then there was the handyman whose voice message said "I won't be able to return your calls between March 11th and March 23rd, but if you leave a message I'll get back to you right after/"   And my question is "Right after what?  After the end of the world?  Or after fishing season is over?"

There are days when I'm so tempted to put on my oldest clothes, wear a heavy pair of gloves, learn how to use power tools, and just go outside and get everything done that's been on my to-do list for the past 27 months.

And then two seconds after that thought comes to mind, I come to my senses.