Posted tagged ‘clearing the deck’

“It’s just the most amazing thing to love a dog, isn’t it? It makes our relationships with people seem as boring as a bowl of oatmeal.”

November 3, 2017

Today is cloudy but still quite warm. It is 64˚ without the sun and will get warmer by the afternoon. I have given up on fall despite the wonderful weather. Skip, my factotum, is readying the deck for winter. He is putting the decorations and candles in boxes, taking up the rug and covering the furniture and umbrellas. He has done it for so many years he just moseys along from one task to another. He’s already cleared the backyard of branches including a couple big enough to be called limbs. He has removed the fallen post from my front fence which had been broken this winter when the huge pine limb fell on the lawn. He’ll replace it. He has some inside stuff as well. Yesterday my house cleaners came and today I have Skip. Life is good.

Gracie and I will be going to the vet’s today. She has a one o’clock appointment. My friend reminded me to ask if acupuncture will help. Last night was not a good night for either of us. Gracie started panting and woke me up several times. At 3, I took her outside hoping that’s what she wanted. It wasn’t though she did take the opportunity to squat. At 4, I fed her some treats. That didn’t work so I helped her off the couch to the bathroom where the water dish is kept. She ignored it and wanted back on the couch where she continued to pant. I finally got up and brought the water dish to her. She drank and drank then settled down to sleep. We were both exhausted. I’m beginning to think she has decided our roles need to be reversed. She will be pampered. I will respond to wishes and commands. She’ll find I am good with Sit!

When I woke up last night, I thought I’d left outside lights lit. Through the back window, I could see so much light the trees had shadows. It was the moon, big and bright and gorgeous on its way to being a full moon tomorrow night. This full moon is called the beaver moon by some as at this time of year beavers are building their winter dams in preparation for the cold season. Because beavers are mainly nocturnal, they will keep working under the light of the full moon. I suppose busy as a beaver would work here but would be just cause for groans.

I lament the closing of my deck.

“The three little kittens, they lost their mittens, And they began to cry…”

November 3, 2014

The wind has stopped. Today is cold but sunny. I went to the deck to fill the bird feeders and noticed the table had been blown as had all the chairs. They were flush against the deck rail, and the chairs were lined up in a row. The whole deck is covered in leaves and pine needles. I checked the yard but only one small limb didn’t survive the wind which reached 60 miles per hour. Some parts of the cape had snow but we had all rain. It was a mighty storm.

My guys are here to close down the deck. Soon it will resemble a deserted house with the furniture all covered. All the candles are off the tree limbs, the umbrellas closed and covered and the clay pots put away. The only things left are the bird feeders swinging from the branches. This is one of the sad days, the day I start to hunker down, the day I admit that winter is coming.

I don’t remember complaining about the weather when I was a kid. It was just part of the day and had to be tolerated. My mother made sure we dressed accordingly. If left to our own devices, we would have gotten soaked or frozen to death. Nothing is worse than wearing pounds of clothing during the winter. I never admitted to being cold even if my lips were blue.

Mittens and socks have a lot in common. Both cover digits and both seem to get misplaced, lost. Even now I have one sock downstairs on the washing machine waiting for its mate. I’m hoping it will appear when next I do laundry. Mittens too seemed to get lost one at a time, never in pairs. I didn’t ever understand that. The mittens were always together either on my hands, in my pockets or up my sleeves in my coat hanging in the cloak room. Maybe it was a borrower or a mitten elf or some creature from a different dimension. I had no explanation and my mother was never happy when a mitten went lost. By the middle of the winter, we were wearing unmatched mittens, but that was no big deal to us. At least our hands were warm until the next one disappeared.