And no matter—- if one is sick or not. We have to keep warm! (And to be honest with you, I think a little physical activity is a good thing—it pushes a body to want to recover—of course, don’t ever overdo it.)
“To keep a warm heart in winter is the real victory.”–Marty Rubin
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
We still have some green leaves hanging around here and there. I’ll look one day and they will all be on the ground. It will be sudden…no turning brown—just done! Dropped.
And, of course, there are all the leaves on the ground I need to clean up.
Which probably won’t happen now until March. 🙂
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
And while we have Pink light for evening–fat, full wonderful Pink light.
In the very thin air, as the sun starts to think about getting out of bed. Our world turns blue.
The Thin time.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Chapter Seven
I have been helping Mom and Dad. They are cutting and hauling wood.
I go out and hang around while Dad runs that LOUD thing that cuts the logs.
Sometimes I jump on the big woodpile to see if any mice run out.
They don’t.
Then Mom and Dad haul the wood and I stay in the corrals. There ARE mice in the corrals.
I was hanging out in the corrals searching here and there after Mom and Dad stopped for the day.
It was growing dark
I forgot about growing dark time.
When SUDDENLY out of nowhere
THE OWL CAME gliding down and lit right in front of me!
I FROZE
“STOP RIGHT THERE, CAT!!! NOW!”
I stopped.
I was already stopped.
I was frozen.
There was no way I was going to move.
I was trying to move, but I couldn’t.
“I am not going to hurt you. Get that through your head. I just want information.”
The owl fluffed her feathers this way and that, settling down right beside me.
“My name is Ruth!” the owl announced. “Boomer was my very best dog friend. We had lots of adventures together. I want to know if the rumors I am hearing are true.”
I just stared at the Owl, Ruth. My eyes must have been bigger than my face, my tongue was frozen in my mouth, I couldn’t talk.
“Come on, Cat. As soon as you tell me, I’m out of here.”
Yeah, right, and you grab me on the way out. I thought to myself.
I just stared at—-Ruth.
“I WILL NOT EAT YOU!” Ruth yelled at me. “I WILL NOT!”
I squatted down, trying to make myself tiny. Oh, maybe that isn’t a good idea. I FLUFFED myself up, trying to make myself big.
“Stop it,” Ruth tiredly commanded. “Just tell me about Boomer.”
She glared at me with her big round eyes.
I started to shake and shiver.
“Okay, here is a deal. You tell me. I continue to sit right here, I won’t move. You run as fast as you can away from me and hide. Then I will fly away. And only then.”
“You can’t leave, you know,” Ruth announced. “I can get you before you even think about moving your paws. So, tell me about Boomer. Once I know the truth, you can run off and I will let you go. You really don’t have a choice.” Ruth stated flatly. “You have NO CHOICE!” She emphasized.
I stared and stared. Ruth was right. I didn’t have a choice.
So, I told her. Everything. The whole sad story.
I was very shocked to see big tears rolling down Ruth’s face.
“You really did care about our Beaglie?” I asked.
“Yes. He was the most special mutt. He really cared about the farm and all the animals on the farm. He was my friend.”
“Where is his grave, cat?” Ruth asked sadly.
I told her.
She lifted herself up and silently flapped away.
She didn’t even try to eat me.
She didn’t even let me get away.
She just left.
Off I ran!
Later on, that night, as I sat on Mom’s lap; Mom told Dad that she (Mom) saw a marvelous wonder. An owl was sitting on the giant tree stumps covering Boomer’s gravesite.
Ruth, I thought. She really is an owl of her word.
We still have a few drifts of the last snow we had…sitting all frozen and windswept waiting for either a warm day to melt away, or to gain more snow to smooth out the wrinkles left by the wind
The shadows seem to dance and rustle in the icy air
Our lives are such tiny little seconds in the eternal cycle of life.
I believe in God, belief in the stars, in the infinity of the World, the beauty of the earth, everything we have in each day by day our lives.
Yes, I believe in God and the gift of being alive.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Shannon has done a marvelous job with the much abused Lady the mule.
In the beginning no one could get close to her.
No one.
And for sure someone wearing flannel.
But gradually, over-time, lots of carrots and apples and loves and pets she has come to trust again.
Daily brushing are not tolerated but (actually) enjoyed. Putting on the saddle is not a sign of something ‘wicked about to happen’ but an adventure with a much loved human.
Romeo and Lady are best of friends…if one goes somewhere the other is close behind. They sometimes have little squabbles and then they make up. Alway, always they are close together.
Lady even lets Terry and I pet and love on her. She has learned…it’s all about love here and she is finally safe.
Which is a very good thing.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
After days and days of thick gloomy clouds the sky parted and the sun shone through giving us a December
Rainbow! And it was just at the end of the alfalfa field shining on the road sign!
What a wonderful, unusual, and perfect gift for this time of year!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
It is raining here. It’s also snowing…the flakes are huge and beautiful and wet. We are warm for a snow storm so when the flakes make contact with something they burst into a wet drop.
KageDog a long-time blog reader, lover of Sandhill Cranes and all things Australia lives at the base of Grand Mesa in Cedaredge, Colorado. She sent me a beautiful photo from her deck showing the clouds covering all the basins between Cedaredge and Delta.
Among all the wonderful Christmas cards Terry and I have received, we also got this pretty cool
Black Guillemot in winter plumage at Bangor from Margaret Adamson.
Thank you each and everyone of you for all of your Christmas Cards and Good Wishes. We feel very lucky to have such wonderful blog friends in our lives!
Your friends on a Western Colorado Farm,
Linda
I love the moon! I love when the moon is full — spreading sliver and crystal and blue lights upon the land.
The dogs and I go for a walk, just to be showered in the lovely glow
We go just as it’s just coming up and we go again just before nine at night
I always try to wake-up sometime during the night, just to take the dogs and go walking down the lane…oh, sometime around one or so in the morning. The dogs know the second I start putting on my Carhart we are going for a walk.
I don’t walk out into the fields late at night…too many coyotes and other critters I don’t want to meet, but in the evening we do.
In the evening we are surrounded in the glow of the winter sunset
With the air full of winter bird calls…the Canadian Geese and the Sandhill Cranes…later after mid-night the owls will hoo-hoo -hoo , we will hear a fox barking and the coyotes yipping as the moon light and the star light fills the shinning clear air.
We will walk along, the dogs sniffing out news and I watching stars fall from a million years ago.
The neighbor’s dog (who lives outside, no matter the temperatures) will hear us crunching along in the snow, or hear me calling to Boomer to not go off too far…he adds his warning bark to the other sounds. His people, either don’t care nor never hear, I call to him…’It’s okay…it’s just us walking in the moonlight. It’s okay…’ He stops. Then calls out again…”GOOD NIGHT” I call back…’Sleep Well, little dog! Sleep Well.” Then the dogs and I go in to the warmth of the wood stove and snugly blankets.
By five in the morning the moon has made it’s way to shine into the bedroom windows, lighting up Sammy the cat as he sleeps on the edge of the bed. Sam puts a paw over his eyes and keeps on sleeping. Monkey jumps into the window to watch the world from the warmth and safety of the house. I too watch the world as the moon slowly sinks and the day begins.
Good Morning everyone!
Your friend,
Linda
Life on a Colorado Farm 