Wordless Wednesday

I'm Dreaming of a White New Year

It's been one mild fall in these parts, let me tell you. Mother Nature has provided a couple little snowfalls - enough to turn the ground white but not enough for excited kids to run a toboggan down a hill. Until Tuesday. 

We did wake up to a barely white Christmas and then the snow melted through the day. Tuesday made up for it all. The snow started around lunchtime and continued through the day and night. By Wednesday we were looking at about half a foot of the white stuff.

Paul pulled the sleds down from the rafters in the garage yesterday and the kids finally got to have their fun. Down the hill they'd slide then up the hill they'd climb. Over and over as dogs ran excitedly about them.

Come on; throw the frisbee, throw the frisbee...

We've had an extra dog in our midst lately. Genny, a German short-haired pointer, is with us for a few weeks while her people bask in the warmth of the Sunshine State and hang out with a mouse called Mickey. Not a bad way to spend Christmas. 'Though, I still think I'll take the snow over the sand this time of year.

With all those missing teeth, the wind tends to whistle through the gaps.

I'm happy to report that we had a very local side of beef delivered this morning. Usually we get the year's supply around August and were beginning to worry that they had reduced the size of the herd and we may not make the cut, so to speak. Turns out some people wanted to give beef as gifts for Christmas so they went into the butcher in December. We're well stocked once again. Amazing what you can find in the bottom of the freezer when you're forced to go through it. "Hey! I remember that sale!"

Right now bread is baking and I think I see an Apple Betty in our future. Brother Enos is coming over today along with Dad and Elizabeth. Wouldn't want to disappoint Enos.

Carrots!

Growing up, I loved the story of Anne of Green Gables. Dad bought the first three books in the series for me the year of our trip down east. I was going into grade 6 that summer. I finished the first Anne with an 'e' book before we left and absolutely loved our day spent at Green Gables in Cavendish. Years later, the movies captivated me.

"Carrots. Hey. Carrots."

Do you remember that? Gilbert, calling to Anne in the schoolroom and Anne yelling at him, "How dare you!" while breaking the slate over his head. Good times.

Speaking of carrots, I had a few of the past-their-prime variety to go out to the chickens today. I placed them and their basket ever-so precisely on the front porch to take out later. Within a few minutes, I saw Rosie, through the window, standing with the basket by her side, eating a wee carrot on the grass. Awww, our little red riding hood. When she came in, I gave her one from the fridge. She took it to the livingroom, dropped it, turned her nose up and strutted away. Moments later, Cooter wandered along and absconded with the treasure. (He had probably just peed in the kitchen, too.) Finding a safe spot between his crate and the back wall, he gnawed away. Carrots!

Eh, what's up, Doc?

Happy Thanksgiving!

(Yep, that's shorts they're wearing! Beauty weather!!)

Dig In

When I started thinking about the garden back in the spring, I decided I would pick one vegetable and concentrate on it. So, while I planted a variety of things, I'm keeping records on the potatoes. My goal is to grow enough to see us through a good portion of the year, maybe even having enough left over to plant again the following year. You've gotta dream big. So, in May, I picked up three bags of seed potatoes - two Yukon Gold and one Chieftain - both mid-season potatoes with good storability. Cookie and hubby were also good enough to give me a bunch of blue potatoes (can't remember the name on those) so they went in too.

We've been eating spuds here and there, through the summer but today the shovels came out and the boys and I dug in. Yesterday was a hot humid day but today was overcast and windy. Whether we were seeing the outer limits of hurricane Irene or not, I don't know, but it made for a perfect working day. With gloves on and shovels in hand, we all worked toward the same goal early on, pulling out Yukons, big and small. At some point...I'm not sure exactly when...the digging moved from potato hills to a newly spud-free spot and soon there was a fairly large, deep hole. Cameron declared that this was Rosie's own 'room' where she could lie down and relax. Nolan noted that there wasn't a roof and she would get wet if it rained. They look after her.

Rosie helped with the digging and apparently got in the way too.

The boys and Rosalita left a short while later, apparently bored of the new earthen room while I continued digging. When my back could handle no more, I called it a day and loaded the freshly dug crop onto the wagon. There's still a few rows to go but it was a good afternoon's work. We'll see how far we get with these and make adjustments next year. One day, we'll grow enough to see us through. That will be a mighty fine day.

Guess what we had for supper tonight.

Summer Chillin'

Recipe: take one old sandbox, a hot day, add water and voila...happy dog

Tell me this dog hasn't got it made...

There's A New Sheriff In Town And His Name Is Liz

There was a time in this little backward kingdom that chickens roamed free. Free from repression, prison bars, shackles...and golden retrievers. The warmer seasons were spent foraging in the lush green grass and hanging out on the porch. Winter came and the poultry retired to the coop, enjoying slightly mushy apples in the comfort of their cozy little home. The season was long and cold with a fair bit of snow, but eventually spring came, the snow melted and the hens were free to roam again in their little backward kingdom. Yet something was different. There was a horrible beast about. A muddy, red four-legged creature who sometimes answered to 'Rosie' but more likely to 'ball' or 'bickie'. She ruled the roost with an iron paw and the chickens were not happy. One by one, over a few weeks, they disappeared. Until there were none.

That was when I named myself Sheriff and took back the kingdom. First, we got our hands on some electric netting, not so much to keep birds in, as to keep dogs out. Deputy Paul and I set it up yesterday.

Note it also keeps juvenile delinquents where you can see them

Then, while my deputy was in town with the court reporter (Ri went to the movie with her friend Julie), I whitewashed the coop, in preparation of the new arrivals.

A fresh coat of whitewash and she's just about ready

And today after work, Deputy Paul picked up our four new charges at the Co-op. They'll spend the first day or so inside the coop getting used to their new surroundings. Tomorrow we're going to clip their wings so they can't fly over (you really can find instructions for anything on the internet...with video to boot) and into the waiting paws of the outlaw, Rosie Wagshertail.

Betcha can't wait to hear their names! Poor girls.

The Water's Fine

Do you remember this time last year? No? Well, take a look here. No doubt about it, last April was exceptional. Warm, warm, warm. Fast forward to 2011 and Environment Canada has predicted a cooler than normal spring. They definitely called that right. It may not be warm enough for swimsuits, but that's not gonna keep winter-weary kids and their dogs from playing in the water.

Snow's almost gone

Where's the ball?

Basking in the sun

Yep, life is good.

These Golden Days

Rosie's been with us for a month now. When she first arrived out here in the sticks, she didn't know quite what to make of us. Paul is a little weird, so I could kind of understand her apprehension, but I'm pretty awesome to hang around with. Yet, she ran away from me when I came in the door. She loved to play ball but as soon as the lacrosse sticks came out, she cowered. Poor girl was scared of every little thing. But now, ever so slowly, she's coming along. The other evening, she finally braved the upstairs hallway to explore our bedroom. That night, while we slept, she joined us on the bed. Rosie's home.

Walking to the village

"Come on, throw the ball, throw the ball!"

"You can't catch me, Wosie."

Longer days means more time to play

Yes?

This Is Embarrassing

"As long as they don't start calling me 'Flash'..."  *rolls eyes*  "People."

...Kitchener

Once home from the ski hill, everyone went to the bathroom, donned their coats and boots and got comfortable in the van. We had a good two hour drive ahead of us and something very special waiting at our destination.

Way back in November, I'd received a picture from Marian of a litter of wee golden retriever pups down in Kingston. Turns out, their mother had been turned into an organization called Golden Rescue and soon was found to have a belly full of puppies. Well, it doesn't take much to get our full attention when pups are involved, especially when they're of the retriever variety. Within a day or two of seeing the picture, we had filled out the online application and waited to see what might happen. 

Some time went by and we were told that the foster parents thought it best that the pups go to homes where someone was around most of the time. We didn't qualify. No big deal, though. It was only a short time since we'd said goodbye to Kokanee and our plan had been to wait for spring before we started looking for pups.

Shortly after this, we heard about a couple of dogs, both male and a little older. They, too, were placed elsewhere. Then, a few weeks ago, we heard about Rosie. 

Rosie, we were told, was a year-and-a-half old, red, golden retriever...just like our girl Chimo had been. She had been living with her foster mom for a few months in Kitchener and was ready to placed in a 'forever home'. 

Last week, a gentleman from Peterborough who is with Golden Rescue, came out to our place to check us out. We were interviewed, asked lots of questions and then, later that weekend, received the phone call. We passed.

Yesterday, we brought Rosie home. She's a quiet, shy, beautiful girl and we're so happy to have her. I can't tell you how nice it is to have a four-legged creature in the house again.  Slowly, she's exploring, checking things out and learning to trust us. We're smitten.

Rosie and her family

Turns out, Rosie's foster mom also has a one year old male in her care who took quite a shine to Riley. But that's all I'm gonna say about that right now.  ;-)