Confessions of a Grandma

It appears that the woodchuck has moved on.  It did survive the interest of the hunting poodles.  We saw it the next morning, but it did look all there goes the neighborhood.   A skunk has moved in under the shed to take its place. Incidentally, the neighbors were very gracious about fixing the shed and offering to replace some dug up plants.  They have an electric fence for their dogs, but the dogs apparently think it is worth a zap to run in the meadow. I don't think that they are irresponsible owners.   The dogs, when not digging up around my shed, were very friendly and quite good looking. We had a raccoon visit the deck on Thursday night.  It managed to work the hummingbird feeder down its hanging pole and emptied that out completely.  We have also seen a red squirrel swinging away on the bird feeder. Feeders that can keep out grey squirrels don't always keep out the smaller red squirrels.  We have never had grey squirrels bother the ...

I, on purpose, had very few plans for today. I usually like to make a real breakfast on Sunday mornings, read the paper, clean up the dishes and go for a walk. I figured I would spend the rest of the day just relaxing--alternating between the book I'm reading at the moment ( The Monster of Templeton ) and my latest knitting project, maybe sitting out on the deck if it warmed up enough. Well, I was just getting back from my walk when I heard my neighbor across the street calling my name. She was working in her amazing flower gardens and had just dug up some perennials that she wanted to give to me--some verbascum and some borage plants. I took the plants home and took a tour around the yard to decide where I would plant them. I noticed that the flower beds needed edging quite badly. So I spent several hours digging and weeding and then planting my new plants. It was too cool to sit and read on the deck anyway, but it was perfect for working in the yard. Maybe I'll relax tomorro...

These guys are looking for hand outs, not shells or fossilized sharks' teeth.

The picture is our grandson (#4 of 8 grand children between the two of us) in South Carolina yesterday. Wow, while I was lost in my own little world, I missed (until the evening news) the fact that it is snowing again throughout the south. They said all fifty states had snow on the ground yesterday. I guess we should be good neighbors and lend economic aid to Canada by sending truckloads of all this snow to Vancouver. My brother and sister-in-law live for six months at their home in North Carolina. They were frantic to pack up and be out of Vermont by the first of November to avoid the snow--no small task since they travel with two miniature donkeys, twelve exotic chickens, two Italian greyhounds, a Jack Russell terrier , and a bird. My brother's goal was to never shovel snow again and my sister-in-law's goal was to never see snow again. That has not worked out for them for the past two years.

We always told him he was the pick of the litter. He was a singleton. His mother was a purebred, very petite Siamese. His father, obviously, was not. I brought him home telling a skeptical Mike, "He just followed me home. What could I do?" That night, he jumped up on our bed and slept on Mike's feet. He was Mike's cat form that moment on. Notice in the picture he is rolling around next to Mike's (and trust me on this) very stinky sandal. Obviously some kind of chemical/olfactory bond took place that first night. Mike could hold that cat in his lap for hours. If I tried to pick him up or pet him for any length of time he would stalk off in a huff. His preference was so distinct and so well communicated that any cat person could immediately "read" his nonverbal communication--"I LOVE him, but her job is to feed us so I tolerate her presence in our house." Because it was my job to feed him (even though Mike often did), he would only wake me up in...

My step daughter has four active children. About ten years ago they decided they all needed a puppy and they found Gracie, a female boxer. She was a great choice as their family dog. Boxers, as a breed, seem to genuinely like children and enjoy being active and playful. They require little in the way of grooming, but they need a lot of exercise, something four active kids who really wanted a puppy could easily accomplish. Gracie has grown into quite the gentle lady--quiet, obedient, well-behaved, intelligent, sweet, gentle, loving, loyal, and trust worthy. Then there is their second boxer, Buckwheat. Buckwheat is a male boxer the family took on in his adolescence five or six years ago. He'd belonged to a couple with a new baby. They just did not have the time or energy to give him the attention and activity that he needed. I don't believe he was physically abused, but his emotional needs were definitely neglected. Buckwheat is playful, loving, gentle and sweet. He can act dumb,...

I like dogs in theory. In reality, however, they are way too much work and responsibility so I have never owned one myself. I am quite content to experience dogs vicariously, which I'm able to do through three of our four grown children and the five dogs they have owned over the years. As soon as my daughter, Amy, got married and moved into a house she got a puppy--a Rottweiler puppy that she named Ziggy. He was incredibly cute as a pup--playful, affectionate, smart, and very fast growing. My dog education had begun. The American Kennel Club (http://www.akc.org/breeds/rottweiler/index.cfm) describes the Rottweiler as "robust and powerful" and as a "self-confident" animal that "responds quietly and with a wait-and-see attitude to influences in the environment." Originally bred in Germany as cattle-herding dogs, they are meant to be strong, calm and intelligent. They are workers who want a job to do. By nature they are protectors and make good police dog...

Five years ago the neighbors' cat killed a female blue bird under the lilac bush. Mike ran to get the bird away and started blowing on it (bird CPR?), but it was really mortally wounded and died within the hour. It was crushingly sad. The male hung around for several weeks but it was forlornly mateless. We didn't have another pair of blue birds nesting in the yard again until this year. They're back! We have been watching a pair that appears to be nesting over by the shed. They seem to like the deck and make a trip there in the evening as we are cleaning up the supper dishes and in the morning as we are having coffee. from the kitchen sink and from the dining table, we have a great vantage on their deck time activities. They like to plop a fat worm or a bug on the railing and have a bit of a picnic. They are very keen on perching on the metal hanger for the hummingbird feeder and take turns doing that--sitting there surveying the yard. The hummingbirds do not like this deve...

A woman in New Jersey is being prosecuted for animal cruelty. She is the owner of a business called Critter Ridder , hired to get rid of a pesky squirrel. Oddly enough, the squirrel died in a trap on the roof of a building. She was charged with animal cruelty, including failure to provide adequate food. Nothing against squirrels--they're fun to watch--but if I had one living in or around my attic, I would try to get rid of it I guess. I've heard they can become quite pest like . On the other hand, I would hope this could be dispatched humanely, maybe through a relocation program. Although if you really stop to think about it, sending your average city dwelling squirrel out to fend for itself in the woods amidst the owls and foxes that might want to eat it has its cruel side as well. Still, who knew you had to offer that last meal. At the same time, officials in Alaska plan to prosecute a man for actually feeding bears. Apparently he is quite friendly with the neighborhood bear ...

I'm a little anxious about canoe travel. I've been known to dump a fully loaded canoe. Our trip across the reservoir where we camped this week started out on a less than auspicious note, too. It was windy, a warm wind blowing dirctly out of the south, but it made the water choppy. No mishap on the way to the camp site, though. On Friday we took a couple paddles out and around looking for signs of spring and possible wildlife activity. We've seen, in the past, a snapping turtle, an eagle, loons, otter, deer, beaver, a moose, camp site marauding bands of ducks. This time it was something new--at least I'd never seen a sight quite like it--hundreds and hundreds of toads in a marshy area in the farthest corner of the pond. It might have been mating season. Or, they might have all been on a toad holiday and were playing rousing games of horse-back rides. Oh, and then there were the dozens of butterflies floating around the little beach at our camp site. So, I guess...

In the winter of 2007, a pair of mourning doves nested in the overhang on the breezeway of the Fiesole Street house. We saw the parents in and out for several weeks. Stray bits of pine needle and bark stuck out in the free-form approximation of a nest. Mister Dove seemed to be doing most of the work and it really was quite haphazard, but Missus Dove was nevertheless suitably impressed and the couple moved in. Apparently, mourning doves are not the most house proud among birds. There followed a period of time when Mister was seen leaving each morning and returning in late afternoon. Missus then had an opportunity to stretch her wings and take care of any female bird business that needed doing but she was usually back within the hour. We don’t know how they sectioned up the night time, but some how I’m inclined to think Mister felt his work was substantially over after building the nest. This coming and going went on for a few weeks. Obviously eggs were being tended. Then there was a per...

Our cat--sprawled out in a sunny spot on a winter day. He was big. He was playfully wild or wildly playful in his youth. He was slow and cranky in his dotage. He had tons of personality--most of it bad. He ruled our house and we loved him beyond all reason. He left for cat heaven, 09/04/2005, and we miss him still. There can never be another.