Ice Bound.

 Ice Bound.

 

Yes, it was an ice storm first before this lovely layer of fluffy snow fell. Dear Hearts, it is slippery out there. For that reason, this old woman is inside, heaters going, dogs snuggling, and being tempted to go get under the electric blanket again.

 

Sharon Dickerson said that Jim is on her computer working on their taxes and does not even have all the forms from his job, etc. Oh, the Dickerson men are all of a kind—well, mostly.

 

Sterling called last night to check on me and to tell me to stay inside out of this mess. I agreed, especially after he assured me that my hens would be fine despite not being able to get out and roam around. One of them managed to get out yesterday morning while the door was opened. Didn’t see the sneaky little hen until late in the day. Had to bring the dogs back in so she would go inside again. Getting back up on the stairs to the deck was a bit scary, but the hen is in and all should be well out there—even if we lose power.

 

The mailman left something from the government in my box out by the street. And it will stay there until this mess thaws enough to be safe for boots and jeans. Can’t imagine it will be very important information. Most things from the government aren’t.

 

Sharon told me she had just made brownies that were very good. She made me feel pretty inadequate when thinking about the tamales taken out of a can for my own din-upper. But then, this morning dog food was prepared for the rest of this week and into the next. Two packages of liver, rice, broccoli/cauliflower, sweet potatoes all cooked and mixed together. Thompson would have preferred just liver, but such is life with an old woman.

Opening the curtain near the couch produces cold air and dog TV. These drapes that Michelle Malay gave me do a good job of keeping the cold air out of the living room. Some day someone will invent better windows that have built in blinds that adjust to let one see out without others seeing inside. In fact, those probably already exist. We have come a long way since the days of the cave. Mostly.

 

Lay down earlier to take a short nap along with two big dogs that have been adjusting to not being allowed on the bed. Today they left the adjusting behind and cuddled up to me. Sylvia kept my feet warm, and Thompson had my back. Good dogs.

 

Have put some ground up almonds and some packaged oatmeal out on the front bench for the birds. Hope it is good for them. Personally, the oatmeal is a major bust even though it is flavored with maple and brown sugar. Just bleah. It is not the kind Mother made, ya know. Will buy a box of the real thing once things can be delivered again. Have to send off and get some more dog kibble, too. It seems the dogs go through the stuff rather quickly even though they are getting real food on top of it. Maybe they will like oatmeal, too. Our dogs liked it when we were kids and Mom was insisting that we eat every bite. You KNOW what we were doing, of course. She figured it out and made the dog stay outside until we had finished out meal.

 

Even though the curtain is drawn, the songs of the birds out front tell me their species. Sparrows, of course, but also cardinals, starlings, a meadowlark, and some kind of brown thrush. Have some chicken treat stuff that could be put out, but not sure if that is a good idea. These birds have been making it a long time before folks started putting out bird seed.

 

Daughter-in-law sent me a text: Had a hen who could count her own eggs. She was a mathmachicken. Yes, you have my permission to roll your eyes now. But it made me smile.

 

Other than hoping the electricity does not fail, my knowledge of what is going on in the world is not worth anything at all. Counting sparrows and starlings on the front porch might not make the breaking news, ya know.

 

Let us pray for those who have to be out in this mess, the critters who must bear the brunt of the storm, and those who don’t have sense enough to sit still until it is safe to go out again. Rest, read, enjoy the stillness. You are loved.