As I type, the tree guy is out by the barn taking down that 'bodunk' tree whose roots lifted up the pipe going to the septic system out there. The pipe itself was replaced by the septic company who had been recommended by the plumber who did a temporary fix on that pipe so our handyman would have full use of running water going into (and out of) the barn apartment.
The plumber was the first one to tell me "Y'all better get rid of that there bodunk tree because all they do is give you a little bit of shade but destroy everythin' else around it." I don't know if bodunk is the actual name of that tree or if it's Texas slang for a 'trash tree.'
When the septic guys got here, they took one look at the way the pipe had been lifted out of the ground by the tree roots and then practically repeated the words of the plumber: "That there bodunk is pullin' up your pipes and makin' that there fence higgedly-wiggedly to boot." The septic guy offered to put a chain around the tree and pull it up (roots and all) with the bull-dozer thing that was on a trailer hitched up to his truck... but he thought that the pulling-down of the tree would also pull down the wood fence. "Better off gettin' a tree man to do that job right," he told me.
Which is what I did.... called the tree guy we found last year who did a great job trimming the huge pecans by the gazebo. And right now, I can hear the buzz-saws going as that big tree is taken down bit by bit.... and I made sure the tree guy knew where the new septic pipe had been installed so it wouldn't be disturbed or destroyed in the process.
One thing always leads to another out here... but this time, the plumber and the septic guy and the tree guy have all shown up when they said they would, taken care of the problems, and didn't over-charge for their services because they had to drive "all the way out yonder."
There is a Country God after all.........
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Is it Spring yet?!
Yet another cold snap... and to add insult to injury, this latest cold wave hit us right after we enjoyed very warm and sunny days. I can't stand it. Can't stand the cold, can't stand the bundling-up, can't stand the dreariness of cloudy days. Oh well. I also can't change the weather, so I'll have to just deal with it. And, as my cousins in New York keep telling me: "At least you don't have to shovel snow and scrape ice."
What I do have is that blasted orange cat. So cold out there on some of the nights this week that I put a blanket over his little bed. The square-shape of that cat bed holds up the weight of the blanket, which makes the bed even warmer than it was. Heaven forbid that stupid cat should be cold in the middle of the night.
As our young friend Miss C told me on her last visit: "No wonder that orange cat hasn't left this porch--- he's too comfy right where he is!" Well, of course she's right, but even though I don't like the bad manners of that stupid cat, I don't want him to be cold and hungry while he's on our porch.
We had rain all day yesterday, which made it impossible for the septic company to come out here and do the work over at the barn as they had planned. Everything is still wet and soggy today, with not a drop of sunlight anywhere, so now the plan is for the septic guy to come out here tomorrow. I'm hoping that they don't have to re-schedule again. I'd like the work over there done and finished, with a septic system that will hold up against the encroaching roots of that blasted tree out by the barn. Not that I'm trying to save the tree.... everyone says it's a "trash tree" that will take everything down with it. If the septic guy tells me that the tree has to go, I'll be on the phone with the tree guy who was here last year. As always... one things leads to another....
Heaven help me....... I certainly hope that the orange cat doesn't bring another ill-mannered cat up on that porch with him.
What I do have is that blasted orange cat. So cold out there on some of the nights this week that I put a blanket over his little bed. The square-shape of that cat bed holds up the weight of the blanket, which makes the bed even warmer than it was. Heaven forbid that stupid cat should be cold in the middle of the night.
As our young friend Miss C told me on her last visit: "No wonder that orange cat hasn't left this porch--- he's too comfy right where he is!" Well, of course she's right, but even though I don't like the bad manners of that stupid cat, I don't want him to be cold and hungry while he's on our porch.
We had rain all day yesterday, which made it impossible for the septic company to come out here and do the work over at the barn as they had planned. Everything is still wet and soggy today, with not a drop of sunlight anywhere, so now the plan is for the septic guy to come out here tomorrow. I'm hoping that they don't have to re-schedule again. I'd like the work over there done and finished, with a septic system that will hold up against the encroaching roots of that blasted tree out by the barn. Not that I'm trying to save the tree.... everyone says it's a "trash tree" that will take everything down with it. If the septic guy tells me that the tree has to go, I'll be on the phone with the tree guy who was here last year. As always... one things leads to another....
Heaven help me....... I certainly hope that the orange cat doesn't bring another ill-mannered cat up on that porch with him.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Septic happens...
It's always something. Oh well. But why does 'something' always happen when my husband isn't here?
Our handyman called me early yesterday morning to tell me that there were problems with the plumbing in the barn apartment. The water in the bathroom, which of course should be draining down from the fixtures in there, was draining up. Up? Give me a blessed break. I told M to run over to the house and get the plunger that we had.... which he did... but that didn't help. The water was still going up instead of down.
M went to his job in town, and I told him that I'd be calling local plumbers to see who could get out here the quickest. Fortunately, the water had found a level that was way below both the sink and the commode, with not a drop going over the edges and onto the floor. And, wonder of wonders.... I had a business card from a local plumbing company that we had used when we first moved out here. Not only were they fairly close-by, but they were honest and reliable. They were here in less than an hour's time.
Turns out that the plumbing in the barn wasn't the problem at all. (Which my husband would be happy about, being that he had re-constructed practically all that plumbing in the barn.)
"Your problem," said the plumber, "is that there septic tank and that dang bodunk tree sittin' right there near the golldarn tank." (I have no idea if bodunk is the actual name of a tree, or Texas slang for a worthless tree whose roots can tear into a septic system.)
The plumber suggested that we have that tree taken out as soon as we could, then he called the septic tank company in town that they're affiliated with, told them the problem, and asked when they could "get over to this here property."
As with all things in small towns, there aren't many choices in service companies, so you have to be careful with the ones you pick. My feeling is that if this plumber was recommending this particular septic tank repairman, then that's the one I should use. (Because if you don't take their suggestion, then not only will they not be recommending anyone in the future, you'll be lucky if they'll come out to your house the next time you call them.)
The plumber and his helper re-configured the septic line so the handyman could use the fixtures in the kitchen and the bathroom of the barn. Unfortunately, the septic tank guy can't be here till Monday morning, being that he's only one of a few companies in this area who do that sort of work, and everyone around here agrees that he's the best there is.
Looking back, the septic surprise went along fairly well.... the plumber was here in less than an hour, he found the problem in the first ten minutes, he re-set the drainage pipe so our handyman wouldn't have to deal with water draining up rather than down, and he arranged for the septic guy to get out here first thing on Monday.
When the plumber was packing up to leave, I went out to the barn with my checkbook in hand, expecting to pay for his work. "No need for that," said the man... "the office sends out statements at the end of the month so y'all will get the bill in that there mailbox... and you can send us the check when you're ready."
I asked the plumber if they ever had customers who didn't pay their bills... and wouldn't it be easier to just take payments on the spot. "No ma'am.... we don't have problems with people who try and stiff us. And if they do... it's just as easy for us to drive out to their properties and un-fix the problems we fixed for them in the first place... and when they see us doin' that, you'd be surprised at how fast they can write out a golldarn check."
Life in the country.....
Our handyman called me early yesterday morning to tell me that there were problems with the plumbing in the barn apartment. The water in the bathroom, which of course should be draining down from the fixtures in there, was draining up. Up? Give me a blessed break. I told M to run over to the house and get the plunger that we had.... which he did... but that didn't help. The water was still going up instead of down.
M went to his job in town, and I told him that I'd be calling local plumbers to see who could get out here the quickest. Fortunately, the water had found a level that was way below both the sink and the commode, with not a drop going over the edges and onto the floor. And, wonder of wonders.... I had a business card from a local plumbing company that we had used when we first moved out here. Not only were they fairly close-by, but they were honest and reliable. They were here in less than an hour's time.
Turns out that the plumbing in the barn wasn't the problem at all. (Which my husband would be happy about, being that he had re-constructed practically all that plumbing in the barn.)
"Your problem," said the plumber, "is that there septic tank and that dang bodunk tree sittin' right there near the golldarn tank." (I have no idea if bodunk is the actual name of a tree, or Texas slang for a worthless tree whose roots can tear into a septic system.)
The plumber suggested that we have that tree taken out as soon as we could, then he called the septic tank company in town that they're affiliated with, told them the problem, and asked when they could "get over to this here property."
As with all things in small towns, there aren't many choices in service companies, so you have to be careful with the ones you pick. My feeling is that if this plumber was recommending this particular septic tank repairman, then that's the one I should use. (Because if you don't take their suggestion, then not only will they not be recommending anyone in the future, you'll be lucky if they'll come out to your house the next time you call them.)
The plumber and his helper re-configured the septic line so the handyman could use the fixtures in the kitchen and the bathroom of the barn. Unfortunately, the septic tank guy can't be here till Monday morning, being that he's only one of a few companies in this area who do that sort of work, and everyone around here agrees that he's the best there is.
Looking back, the septic surprise went along fairly well.... the plumber was here in less than an hour, he found the problem in the first ten minutes, he re-set the drainage pipe so our handyman wouldn't have to deal with water draining up rather than down, and he arranged for the septic guy to get out here first thing on Monday.
When the plumber was packing up to leave, I went out to the barn with my checkbook in hand, expecting to pay for his work. "No need for that," said the man... "the office sends out statements at the end of the month so y'all will get the bill in that there mailbox... and you can send us the check when you're ready."
I asked the plumber if they ever had customers who didn't pay their bills... and wouldn't it be easier to just take payments on the spot. "No ma'am.... we don't have problems with people who try and stiff us. And if they do... it's just as easy for us to drive out to their properties and un-fix the problems we fixed for them in the first place... and when they see us doin' that, you'd be surprised at how fast they can write out a golldarn check."
Life in the country.....
Monday, February 16, 2015
Rain, rain, more rain....
... but at least it isn't snow and ice.
One of my cousins eMails me every day with the latest weather report for Long Island... horrible up there at the moment, and although I keep suggesting that my cousins are living in the wrong zip codes, none of them seem at all eager to move south.
The temperatures on the Island are below zero... they have mountains of snow, glaciers of ice, and everyone has just about had it with winter. So, here we are in the Hill Country with a day of rain. I promise not to complain too much.
After a few days of sun and summery temperatures, it's much cooler outside today than it has been over the weekend. And the wind has also kicked up, making it seem colder than the numbers on the thermometer. I'm sitting here with two sweaters on.... it's a game I play with the thermostat. Just how uncomfortable can I feel before turning on the heat?
Haven't heard the peacock in a couple of days... his mating-call screeches are just a memory now. The other night, however, we did hear what sounded like a cannon-shot going off on the other side of the hills. Our friends further up the hill heard the noise also, but we have no idea where it came from. Loud noise travels around these hills in a whirlwind pattern simply because there's not much to absorb the sound.... so a rifle shot from the next-door neighbor can sound as if it came from two miles away. That boom the other night.... definitely louder than a gun shot. One of the property owners way back over the other hill has a vintage cannon... he fires it every once in a while to keep it in good working order. So my guess is that the cannon made that loud sound the other night. Either that, or the country is at war and we just haven't heard the news yet up here in the hills.
The orange cat is back, after being absent from the porch for two days. He was meowing by the back door yesterday morning, purring and contrite, and hungry. Of course I put out some Meow Mix for that blasted cat. In thanks, he put one of his paws on my wrist as I placed the bowl on the porch... and wonder of wonders, he did not attempt to mark me with his claws.
A neighbor on the other side of the hill was driving around in her truck the other day, searching for her white pit bull. This isn't the first time her dog has escaped their property, but this is the first time she has told us all that the dog isn't friendly. Wonderful.... a huge pit bull with an attitude. Just what everyone needs. We were all very lucky this time... her pit bull was found up the hill on J&J's property.... they told the owner, who drove up there and claimed her unfriendly dog.
One of the other neighbor's chickens was found dead on the road last week.... not run over by a car because the hen was de-feathered but not squashed. Makes me wonder if that unfriendly pit bull tried to make a meal out of that particular chicken. Not exactly a happy meal....
One of my cousins eMails me every day with the latest weather report for Long Island... horrible up there at the moment, and although I keep suggesting that my cousins are living in the wrong zip codes, none of them seem at all eager to move south.
The temperatures on the Island are below zero... they have mountains of snow, glaciers of ice, and everyone has just about had it with winter. So, here we are in the Hill Country with a day of rain. I promise not to complain too much.
After a few days of sun and summery temperatures, it's much cooler outside today than it has been over the weekend. And the wind has also kicked up, making it seem colder than the numbers on the thermometer. I'm sitting here with two sweaters on.... it's a game I play with the thermostat. Just how uncomfortable can I feel before turning on the heat?
Haven't heard the peacock in a couple of days... his mating-call screeches are just a memory now. The other night, however, we did hear what sounded like a cannon-shot going off on the other side of the hills. Our friends further up the hill heard the noise also, but we have no idea where it came from. Loud noise travels around these hills in a whirlwind pattern simply because there's not much to absorb the sound.... so a rifle shot from the next-door neighbor can sound as if it came from two miles away. That boom the other night.... definitely louder than a gun shot. One of the property owners way back over the other hill has a vintage cannon... he fires it every once in a while to keep it in good working order. So my guess is that the cannon made that loud sound the other night. Either that, or the country is at war and we just haven't heard the news yet up here in the hills.
The orange cat is back, after being absent from the porch for two days. He was meowing by the back door yesterday morning, purring and contrite, and hungry. Of course I put out some Meow Mix for that blasted cat. In thanks, he put one of his paws on my wrist as I placed the bowl on the porch... and wonder of wonders, he did not attempt to mark me with his claws.
A neighbor on the other side of the hill was driving around in her truck the other day, searching for her white pit bull. This isn't the first time her dog has escaped their property, but this is the first time she has told us all that the dog isn't friendly. Wonderful.... a huge pit bull with an attitude. Just what everyone needs. We were all very lucky this time... her pit bull was found up the hill on J&J's property.... they told the owner, who drove up there and claimed her unfriendly dog.
One of the other neighbor's chickens was found dead on the road last week.... not run over by a car because the hen was de-feathered but not squashed. Makes me wonder if that unfriendly pit bull tried to make a meal out of that particular chicken. Not exactly a happy meal....
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Peacock screams.....
....and other things that go bump in the night.
As I type, the peacock down the road is screaming. I believe they do that when they're looking for a mate. That particular peacock is a male, and his tail feathers have grown out long and luxurious. Surely, if there was a peahen within a few miles of here, she would be flying to the neighbor's property to check out that screaming bird. My guess is that no one around here has a peahen... which means that the neighbor's peacock will continue to scream his feathers off until he finds a mate. Oh goodie.
The orange cat.... he wrapped his soft little orange and white paws around my leg the other day, looked up into my eyes, and then tried to bite me. Thankfully, his teeth ended up caught in the leg of my slacks rather than the skin of my leg. And that cat is lucky I wasn't wearing my best go-into-town jeans, because I swear I would have taken the broom I was holding and smacked him into the next county. That cat is just so exasperating.... one would need the patience of the proverbial saint in order to put up with his bad cat-manners.
The raccoon.... he doesn't have his midnight snacks on our back porch anymore, for the simple reason that I no longer leave food out there at night for the orange cat. As soon as it gets dark, I bring the bowl of Meow Mix in the house. If the orange cat comes by, he'll stand by the back door and meow for all he's worth, getting not only my attention, but a dish of cat food as well. But when he's finished eating, I bring the bowl back into the house. Which means that the orange cat isn't able to have a midnight snack, either. (Which may account for him trying to bite me the other day.)
The neighbor's goats.... they've been jumping the fence surrounding their pasture lately. And the first property they come to is ours... so we've had goats munching the grass in our yard and by the gazebo. My husband went out there the other day with an air-horn... one blast of that had the goats running back down the hill and jumping over the fence to get into their own pasture. The air-horn, however, sent both Mickey and Gatsby flying under the guest cottage and I didn't see their whiskered faces till dinner-time.
And why do we have an air-horn way out here in the country? Because my husband uses that to scare away the dozens of huge crows which fly into our yard to feast on the nuts which drop from the pecan trees on our property. Let's see... which would I rather listen to.... the caw-caw-caw of the crows, or the insistent ear-splitting blast of an air-horn.... (I'll let you guess).
As I type, the peacock down the road is screaming. I believe they do that when they're looking for a mate. That particular peacock is a male, and his tail feathers have grown out long and luxurious. Surely, if there was a peahen within a few miles of here, she would be flying to the neighbor's property to check out that screaming bird. My guess is that no one around here has a peahen... which means that the neighbor's peacock will continue to scream his feathers off until he finds a mate. Oh goodie.
The orange cat.... he wrapped his soft little orange and white paws around my leg the other day, looked up into my eyes, and then tried to bite me. Thankfully, his teeth ended up caught in the leg of my slacks rather than the skin of my leg. And that cat is lucky I wasn't wearing my best go-into-town jeans, because I swear I would have taken the broom I was holding and smacked him into the next county. That cat is just so exasperating.... one would need the patience of the proverbial saint in order to put up with his bad cat-manners.
The raccoon.... he doesn't have his midnight snacks on our back porch anymore, for the simple reason that I no longer leave food out there at night for the orange cat. As soon as it gets dark, I bring the bowl of Meow Mix in the house. If the orange cat comes by, he'll stand by the back door and meow for all he's worth, getting not only my attention, but a dish of cat food as well. But when he's finished eating, I bring the bowl back into the house. Which means that the orange cat isn't able to have a midnight snack, either. (Which may account for him trying to bite me the other day.)
The neighbor's goats.... they've been jumping the fence surrounding their pasture lately. And the first property they come to is ours... so we've had goats munching the grass in our yard and by the gazebo. My husband went out there the other day with an air-horn... one blast of that had the goats running back down the hill and jumping over the fence to get into their own pasture. The air-horn, however, sent both Mickey and Gatsby flying under the guest cottage and I didn't see their whiskered faces till dinner-time.
And why do we have an air-horn way out here in the country? Because my husband uses that to scare away the dozens of huge crows which fly into our yard to feast on the nuts which drop from the pecan trees on our property. Let's see... which would I rather listen to.... the caw-caw-caw of the crows, or the insistent ear-splitting blast of an air-horn.... (I'll let you guess).
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Dinner for two...
Well, so much for thinking that the orange cat was doing his best to keep the wildlife off the porch. And indeed he did, at least for a while. Now he's sharing his Meow Mix with the local raccoon population.
When that orange/white stray took up residence on our porch, we could hear him chasing any and all animals off the porch... he would meow loudly and then start running towards whatever was out there... mostly raccoons, but sometimes possums. We figured that if the orange cat couldn't be nice to us, then at least he was 'earning his keep' out there by chasing away unwanted critters.
So, what did I find out on the porch tonight? The orange cat, sitting within 12 inches of a raccoon, watching that masked bandit munching on the Meow Mix. Stupid me, for leaving the food out there after dark in the first place. In order to cut down on the wildlife porch-feedings, I had been bringing the food dish inside the house when it got dark, and then putting out a bowl of cat food for the orange cat when I heard him meowing out there.
I forgot all about the food dish tonight, and there it was, filled with Meow Mix and waiting for that raccoon. I opened the back door about an inch to shoo the raccoon away, and he just sat there in front of the dish, chewing on that cat food and looking at me with the sweetest eyes.... "Lady, will you just let me finish this and I'll be on my way, okay?"
I was not about to go out on the porch and take that food dish away... plus the orange cat was sitting right in front of the back door so I couldn't open it too wide anyway. I just gave up, closed the door, and let the raccoon eat the cat food. When he walked off the porch, I put a small bowl out there for the orange cat.... and I told him to eat quickly because I wasn't leaving the leftovers out there for a midnight snack for either him or his buddy.
So now that stupid orange cat has made friends with a raccoon. Give me a blessed break.
When that orange/white stray took up residence on our porch, we could hear him chasing any and all animals off the porch... he would meow loudly and then start running towards whatever was out there... mostly raccoons, but sometimes possums. We figured that if the orange cat couldn't be nice to us, then at least he was 'earning his keep' out there by chasing away unwanted critters.
So, what did I find out on the porch tonight? The orange cat, sitting within 12 inches of a raccoon, watching that masked bandit munching on the Meow Mix. Stupid me, for leaving the food out there after dark in the first place. In order to cut down on the wildlife porch-feedings, I had been bringing the food dish inside the house when it got dark, and then putting out a bowl of cat food for the orange cat when I heard him meowing out there.
I forgot all about the food dish tonight, and there it was, filled with Meow Mix and waiting for that raccoon. I opened the back door about an inch to shoo the raccoon away, and he just sat there in front of the dish, chewing on that cat food and looking at me with the sweetest eyes.... "Lady, will you just let me finish this and I'll be on my way, okay?"
I was not about to go out on the porch and take that food dish away... plus the orange cat was sitting right in front of the back door so I couldn't open it too wide anyway. I just gave up, closed the door, and let the raccoon eat the cat food. When he walked off the porch, I put a small bowl out there for the orange cat.... and I told him to eat quickly because I wasn't leaving the leftovers out there for a midnight snack for either him or his buddy.
So now that stupid orange cat has made friends with a raccoon. Give me a blessed break.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
I have no idea, but she didn't make it to the other side.
When I drove down the hill today, there was a dead chicken near the side of the road... way down at the bottom of our hill and near the little house that's across the road from our pond. That neighbor has a lot of chickens and roosters, and they're always in the road, on the road, and pecking in the grass growing on both sides of the pavement.
One of them was either in the road and got hit by a car, or one of the other neighbors' dogs caught the chicken for lunch... not a pretty sight down there for that poor black- and white-feathered chicken. The vultures were up in the sky making their slow flying circles, looking down to make sure the chicken was really dead, I guess. One vulture had landed on the grass and tentatively pulled out some feathers... so by tomorrow, that poor chicken will not only be dead, but naked as well.
One of the other neighbors called me yesterday to ask if I knew anyone who had lost a black cat. She knows that one of our cats is all black, so I assured her that Mickey was safely tucked into his heated spot in the garage, not wanting to come out till the sun started to shine again. G breathed a sigh of relief at that.... because the black cat she found was dead at the side of the road near her property.
On any given day, there is some sort of catastrophe with a feathered or furry animal... at least I think it's a catastrophe... for those who have lived up here in the hills for decades, they seem to believe it's just another day on the ranch.
When I drove down the hill today, there was a dead chicken near the side of the road... way down at the bottom of our hill and near the little house that's across the road from our pond. That neighbor has a lot of chickens and roosters, and they're always in the road, on the road, and pecking in the grass growing on both sides of the pavement.
One of them was either in the road and got hit by a car, or one of the other neighbors' dogs caught the chicken for lunch... not a pretty sight down there for that poor black- and white-feathered chicken. The vultures were up in the sky making their slow flying circles, looking down to make sure the chicken was really dead, I guess. One vulture had landed on the grass and tentatively pulled out some feathers... so by tomorrow, that poor chicken will not only be dead, but naked as well.
One of the other neighbors called me yesterday to ask if I knew anyone who had lost a black cat. She knows that one of our cats is all black, so I assured her that Mickey was safely tucked into his heated spot in the garage, not wanting to come out till the sun started to shine again. G breathed a sigh of relief at that.... because the black cat she found was dead at the side of the road near her property.
On any given day, there is some sort of catastrophe with a feathered or furry animal... at least I think it's a catastrophe... for those who have lived up here in the hills for decades, they seem to believe it's just another day on the ranch.
Monday, February 2, 2015
Another cold snap...
Welcome to February... and we begin this shortest month of the year with frigid weather. Especially hard to take being that we were just enjoying somewhat normal temperatures in the high 70s. Just who is in charge of the weather.... I would like to file a complaint.
My cousin R called me a few days ago to wish me a Happy Birthday, and he was asking me about the weather during the winter months in Texas. On the day of the phone call, it was 77 degrees here... and rather than brag, I just stated that as fact. On the other end of the phone line, R and his wife D had just finished shoveling the snow in their driveway. Their house is up for sale now, and they plan to move from their two-story Long Island home into a small townhouse or condo that doesn't have many steps and hopefully doesn't have a long driveway that needs shoveling when it snows.
R also asked me about the local livestock and wildlife... "What sort of animals do you see every week?" (I resisted the urge to ask him how much time he had to listen to such a list.)
I told R about the horses and the cows and the goats... about the neighbor's chickens and roosters, and the peacock that sometimes comes up to our property. I mentioned the armadillos that make holes in the lawn, the raccoons that eat the cat food on the porch, snakes that hide in tall grass and in the flowerbeds, the foxes that find their way into our barn to protect their babies, the deer that drink from our pond and eat the food that my husband puts out near the woods. I told R about the stray dogs that find their way to the properties here after their owners have abandoned them at the end of the road... I gave my cousin the on-going saga of the orange cat and his inability to learn proper kitty-manners.
We talked about the local game-farm and the exotic animals that are kept there, but are sometimes killed for sport.... as if 'sport' meant shooting at animals that cannot escape the eight-foot fence around that property. As I spoke, my cousin R heard the symphony of birdsong out in the yard... hundreds of sparrows and cardinals and bluebirds and yellow-breasted larks and tiny chickadees and brown-speckled grackles, and sometimes there are blue jays and mockingbirds.
"Listen to all those birds," said R. "It sounds like you're in the middle of a bird sanctuary." I do admit that the birds are a joy... and I freely admit that I do miss having chickens. I like watching the cows across the road, but at times their poignant sounds when the calves are taken away are just heart-breaking. And the goats are fun to watch because they play like puppies, but there again... some of those little goats are killed for that property-owner's dinner. The deer are graceful and beautiful, the baby foxes are adorable but I certainly don't need them in the barn. As for the others, I can do without all of them, especially the snakes.
"Do you know how lucky you are to be living out there on all of that property?" said my cousin R. Well... that got me to thinking. I told R that yes, I was indeed lucky..... at least there was no snow here to shovel.
"You have your dad's sense of humor," said my cousin.
My cousin R called me a few days ago to wish me a Happy Birthday, and he was asking me about the weather during the winter months in Texas. On the day of the phone call, it was 77 degrees here... and rather than brag, I just stated that as fact. On the other end of the phone line, R and his wife D had just finished shoveling the snow in their driveway. Their house is up for sale now, and they plan to move from their two-story Long Island home into a small townhouse or condo that doesn't have many steps and hopefully doesn't have a long driveway that needs shoveling when it snows.
R also asked me about the local livestock and wildlife... "What sort of animals do you see every week?" (I resisted the urge to ask him how much time he had to listen to such a list.)
I told R about the horses and the cows and the goats... about the neighbor's chickens and roosters, and the peacock that sometimes comes up to our property. I mentioned the armadillos that make holes in the lawn, the raccoons that eat the cat food on the porch, snakes that hide in tall grass and in the flowerbeds, the foxes that find their way into our barn to protect their babies, the deer that drink from our pond and eat the food that my husband puts out near the woods. I told R about the stray dogs that find their way to the properties here after their owners have abandoned them at the end of the road... I gave my cousin the on-going saga of the orange cat and his inability to learn proper kitty-manners.
We talked about the local game-farm and the exotic animals that are kept there, but are sometimes killed for sport.... as if 'sport' meant shooting at animals that cannot escape the eight-foot fence around that property. As I spoke, my cousin R heard the symphony of birdsong out in the yard... hundreds of sparrows and cardinals and bluebirds and yellow-breasted larks and tiny chickadees and brown-speckled grackles, and sometimes there are blue jays and mockingbirds.
"Listen to all those birds," said R. "It sounds like you're in the middle of a bird sanctuary." I do admit that the birds are a joy... and I freely admit that I do miss having chickens. I like watching the cows across the road, but at times their poignant sounds when the calves are taken away are just heart-breaking. And the goats are fun to watch because they play like puppies, but there again... some of those little goats are killed for that property-owner's dinner. The deer are graceful and beautiful, the baby foxes are adorable but I certainly don't need them in the barn. As for the others, I can do without all of them, especially the snakes.
"Do you know how lucky you are to be living out there on all of that property?" said my cousin R. Well... that got me to thinking. I told R that yes, I was indeed lucky..... at least there was no snow here to shovel.
"You have your dad's sense of humor," said my cousin.
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