Sanosuke caught a second mouse. I grabbed the camera, but the lighting is very dark. Sorry!
What you didn’t see, was when I tried to take it from him. When I finally got the courage to try and take it away, Sano flipped the mouse right at me.
The mouse theme has ended, for a while at least! Unless I find one waiting for me in my bed..
Surrounded by farm land, and
Open fields of untouched soil
Winter is cold wet and frozen
Spring brings a thaw of rains, and
Flood waters and open creeks
Those swell to streams
And then…they come into the house
One mouse in the house Two mice in the garage Three mice in the barnHow tempting a treat to a cat
Hawk or coyote
In a pet shop
You are worth a couple of dollars
To me your cost is closer to a thousand
To fix the damage, when
You, you tiny rodent
built a condo inside my car
Within the air ducts and around the engine
One mouse in the house Two mice in the garage Three mice in the barnTime for Feisty Sanosuke, Kenshin, and PJ
To play with those Sweet little mice
In the garage,
Furry and fat scamper off my walls
I hear your nails scratching, and
your teeth gnawing
Your days are numbered
One mouse in the house Two mice in the garage Three mice in the barnI have to insist, give up your license
To my car, and my house
Your cash is shredded in this years nest
And plastic is not accepted
So run, run little furry mouse
Sanosuke, Kenshin and PJ want to play,
Tomoe just wants to watch
I will set out sticky traps
And search in every corner
One mouse in the house Two mice in the garage Three mice in the barnAre just one too many mice in my life…
Picture from clip art;The past few days the weather has been up and down, sideways and in circles.
Last night we had pouring rain, thunder and dangerous lightening. During the first part of that storm I was outside, walking as close to the house as I could get, while I tried to encourage Uriah to do his business in a hurry. Nothing hurries Uriah. I stood back and watched the dark sky light up emphasizing the jagged edges of the high Cumulonimbus clouds. A rolling rumble vibrated underneath my feet and still Uriah sniffed at the edge of the Blue Spruce, unperturbed. It was only when I told him to get in the house that he started to whine. He hates thunderstorms, but Uriah’s idea of safety during a storm is to stand out in the open and stare up into the electrified sky.
On Sunday, when the path was still a path, severe winds blew over a tree. Fortunately I wasn’t out there when it happened. I never made it though the back yard, even attempting to make my way to the back path was impossible. The winds were irritatingly loud! I couldn’t see past my hair, no matter how hard I tried, and at one point I thought I saw Miss Gulch pedaling over head, followed closely by that Pheasant, and That Rat. With each step I fought to move forward. I could have tied a rope to Uriah and flew him like a kite. Alright, a fat, pudgy unhappy kite…
Today the path is underwater and the air is so heavy I was feeling out of sorts, dizzy, sneezing, and hard to breathe I am moving very, very slow. On the bright side the toads are croaking loudly and the mosquitoes are out and biting. Hmmm!
Back to the tree! In order for me to remove that tree I will need to use the tractor, and ‘she’ is still asleep covered in blankets in the barn.
I stood back and paced out the distance from the beginning of the path to the downed tree, sixty steps. Not good! Last year we had a tree fall over and it was only a fraction of the distance, and a forth the size. Taking the tractor in that area would set me up for disaster with all that soft wet mud under the large wheels. If I stood in the mud I would sink in. If I add a tractor with spinning wheels and an idiot driving (me) … Well, the tractor will sink deep in the mud, and at that point I will need to call someone in to pull it out.
Still I stood there and thought about it…
If I used the tractor I will need a very long chain that I can connect to the tree, and the tractor. All the while crossing my fingers, that both will hold on the first attempt. They never do! One side or both will slip off and have to be reconnected, while I’m left standing in the thick black, oozing mud.
I considered leaving the tree and cutting a path around it..hmmm! I have a chain saw, sort of. Michael hid it somewhere, so that idea might not work.
Today isn’t the day to work out the technicalities, too much water and a lack of diesel, and a hidden chainsaw.
Last resort… Woodpeckers! Eventually they would pound holes in that tree allowing it to fall apart. I’m voting for the birds.
In the meantime, Uriah walked around the tree…
Yesterday and this morning I took my walk looking up. The trees are just starting to bud. And the flowers are just beginning to show their colors.
The ground is littered with dried left over leaves, brittle and grayish brown, crunching under foot. Even as the grass makes an attempt to turn green, as the moss pulls on its most brilliant lime green coat of the season. The main show is taking place above ground; branches are turning colors as spring moves through them. Don’t miss the show!
“In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours.” ~Mark Twain
Within the past two hours, I have seen heavy fog, thick dark grey clouds, and a bright blue sky, that shifted to a pale whitish-blue.
A bellowing cloud of smoke passed through my house as the farmer burned off the dried grass around the creek bed. The thick heavy smoke made it a little uncomfortable to breathe. So Uriah and I headed off to the mail box and I took pictures of the blooming, Pussy Willow as Uriah disappeared to wade in the pond.
Uriah came back out of the cold pond and pulled his fat tummy across the grass, this is his way of toweling himself off…
I was a perfect stuffed monkey 
Reddish fur with a beige tummy
face and feet
Until an animal got to me
Now, I lie here without arms, legs or ears
Even my tail was chewed off…
Maybe it was coyote
A raccoon
A fox
or possibly… a skunk
Could have been that rat
That rat
That steals Uriah’s food and rawhide bones
That rat
that digs the holes around the kennel
under the garden, and
tunnels alongside the horseradish plant
One day the hawk will come by, and sit
Quietly on the railing
waiting for that rat to make a mistake
when he is dancing
on the top of the kennel
Just under the floor boards of the deck
He will scramble up
to look in the kitchen window
at that point, the hawk will strike…
And that rat will be no more
To late for me, I lie here without arms,
or legs, and ears… even my tail is gone
I have all the time in the world
To wonder
Now what..?
Check out everyone at Jingles Thursday poets rally-
http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/03/24/thursday-poets-rally-week-11-march-24-30-2010/
Yesterday I opened my curtains to a heavy snow storm. I stood at the window for a second, then turned away to make a cup of coffee. When I came back the hallucination was still out there.
The day before it was in the middle sixties, warm sunshine, trees budding, birds singing out ,”Spring! Spring!”
This was a big surprise; I knew the temperatures were dropping. When I took Uriah out for his nightly walk I had felt the cold air moving in. But I didn’t expect this! Three to four inches of snow on the deck and a beautiful holiday scene cascaded down in front of me.
I needed another cup of coffee.
Uriah ran outside happy. Very happy! He loves the snow. I pulled on my boots and zipped up my coat. Grumbling, I grabbed my knit hat, shoved it on my head and walked outside.
The snow was perfect for snowmen, snow angels and snowball fights. None I planned on making or getting into.
The birds were silent in the heavy snowfall. The water on the path had drained off. With the coating of snow, my boots never touched the mud.
Directly in front of me a mole popped out of the snow. He was very surprised to see me; even more so when Uriah grabbed him and tossed him up like a squeaky toy. Ouch! Quickly, Uriah stepped back afraid that the mole was going to bite. The mole never got back up…
Today- the sun came out and started melting the snow on the deck. Water poured into the outside dog kennel. Uriah sat out in the yard in the sun and watched the snow disappear over the chipmunk holes.
I shuffled over to the garden and pointed at the large hole next to the dog kennel. “Stare at this hole!” I poked the soft dirt with my ski pole. “And when he comes out, toss him up in the air!”
Uriah glanced at the rat hole. With a heavy sigh he walked back to the chipmunk hole and sat down and waited.
This bird
now featherless
its coat dropped carelessly
in a pile, under a leafless tree
on a patch of washed-out grey leaves
one could hope he forgot where he left them
if not, their velvety softness will be reused in a nest
for warmth, and comfort with instructions on hunting
This bird…
posted for:
http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/03/17/thursday-poets-rally-week-10-march-18-march-24-2010/
This happened two nights ago…
It was only eight o’clock at night. I needed to bring Uriah inside. He was still outside in his kennel.
A couple hours earlier I tried to coax Uriah in the house. But he wanted to sit outside. With the sun setting, coyotes would be coming closer to the house, so I locked him inside his kennel.
It was time to bring him inside. I flicked on the outside light and without waiting for the light to come on I stepped out the garage door. I was met by a wall of darkness. I looked down at my hands and could barely see them. A heavy fog had settled in close to the ground, which caused a curtain of blackness to fall over everything. Silence assaulted my senses. For a second I contemplated going back into he house until the lights came on. I shook off the uneasy feeling and clutched my ski pole.
I walked forward, then turned to the right and headed around the back of the house towards the dog kennel. I hesitated again! The silence was over powering! I called to Uriah. He didn’t answer. I looked up at the light; it was taking its time turning on. Maybe the dampness or the cold air was the reason. Or maybe I was being paranoid! It takes time for that light to heat up. I couldn’t hear anything moving around out there in the dark. But something felt wrong.
I laughed off a trickle of fear and called to Uriah. He didn’t make a sound. Something else did in that heavy darkness! An odd, growl and movement, then the sound of a branch breaking came from the direction of the apple trees.
I stopped and peered into the foggy blackness. Silence! A deep heavy silence!
I told myself, if there was something out there I should be able to hear it again and there wasn’t a sound anywhere around me.
“Hey Uriah! I really think I should have waited for the light to come on.” He didn’t answer me. I knew he was alright, I was talking to him through the window earlier; as it got colder I closed the window and watched him as he stared out into the yard.
I shuffled to the kennel door, opened it. Uriah stood there watching me but didn’t make a move to leave.
I stood at the open door and waved at him to leave. “Come on! You have to come inside!”
Uriah turned away from me and stared out into the yard towards the apple trees. He was pacing in place.
I turned and looked out over the wall of blackness. A chill ran up my spine and I fought the urge to step into the kennel with Uriah and close the door. Not a smart move! I would be locked outside, not inside the house.
Then I just made a bad mistake! I allowed fear to creep around me…
Animals can smell fear. Uriah came up to me and leaned against my leg. Great! He was nervous too…
“Ok, here’s the plan. We walk out of here. You pee! We get into the house fast! Just pretend we don’t think anyone is watching us.”
Brave Uriah whimpered and looked out towards the apple trees, again..
I muttered. “That’s not helping!”
I coaxed Uriah out of the kennel. He stayed as close to me as he could get -behind me and under my coat. I didn’t like this situation…
Then I got mad…
“Alright! Whoever is out there, get the hell out of my yard!” Uriah perked up immediately and walked in front of me and wagged his tail.
Then I heard a clinking sound, similar to tags on a dog collar. I thought I was imagining that sound. But Uriah’s head turned to the sound as fast as I had. It came from the apple trees…
I yelled out into the darkness and stepped forward. “Uriah are you going to pee now?” Then I turned towards the driveway and started to walk.
Uriah followed. I stopped, he urinated and we slowly waked back to the garage.
I kept thinking. “I am not afraid!” Still, I could feel that tickle of fear creep up again. Fear is one scent I really didn’t want to send that out into the yard. Once an animal catches a whiff of fear, he will attack. I was so glad there wasn’t a wind and we were nearly in the house. And I wasn’t sure what type of animal was out there watching..
Uriah pushed past me and was inside before I had the door fully open.
This morning was gorgeous, humid, but a beautiful day. Every bird bellowed out a tune. The rains had stopped for now and I could see clouds moving in from the west, not the heavy menacing dark clouds, just a soft grey over cast type, the ones that will defuse the bright sunshine and hold in warm air.
I walked over to the path, hoping to be able to take a longer walk. I had my camera out I took some pictures of moss, melting snow and water. I was able to get a lot of pictures of water. The path was overflowing. I could see the line of water running through the neighboring fields.
I headed back to the house.
All three of my male cats were sitting by the kitchen door. The screen was keeping them inside, as they sat and stared out at me in my bright orange coat.
I have small red garden shed that had seen better days. The roof is leaking and with the past few years of flood waters pouring though it, the walls are rotting. I moved the square paver stone that held the door closed and I pulled the door open. A rush of rodent odor over powered me, and I stepped back and took a deep breath, then went in looking for a rake. I untangled the old red rake from the garden hose and quickly shut the door and pushed the rock back into place.
Uriah followed me as I scraped around the flower beds that bordered the front of the house. Three sections set in-between each five foot evergreen bush.
I had cleared a lot of the leaves out in fall, so I only had a sprinkling of dried leaves from the Tiger Lily’s and Catnip. As I cut away last years died leaves from the Lily of the Valley, I was surprised it hadn’t disengrated into the soil.
Uriah always helpful laid in the flower bed right on what I was clearing off. He wanted a biscuit from my pocket. I know! I was training him to be in the way, because every time I told him to move I would toss his milk bone over my shoulder. I quickly ran out of treats, at that point he fell asleep and I worked around him.
From between the soil and rocks tiny black spiders poured out over my hands, as a large black ant raced away from me. I was near the old bird bath, the top section sits right on the ground, I have to remember to bring out a pan of warm water and rinse it out. Right now it has dark water from the leaves that sat in it all winter. A black toad, the size of my hand slowly pulled himself out of my pile of grass and leaves, and lumbered back into the garden to the bird bath…
The rain poured down this morning, an attempt by Mother Nature to clean off the winters sludge from the roads, buildings and ground. Most of the snow surrounding the house melted off this morning. Before this winter will be official over it will take a few heavy rains, then some sunny days to bake everything clean.
I walked over to the Bog Willows and peered inside their tangled branches, I saw where the snow was hiding. Every bit of ground in the shadows was snow covered. White and icy, refusing to let go of winters bite.
Uriah was very disappointed when I refused to walk in the cold water, which covered the low end of the path. He carefully inched along the un-melted ice and drank from the water.
The skies above us were heavy with moisture. The clouds were a deep soft grey, they moved quickly overhead. I looked up at the motionless tree tops. All the wind was high up in the clouds, the winds pushed them into rolling mountains that swiftly changed shape every second.
With our walking path blocked I turned my attention to the vegetable garden. This past October I had covered it with a tarp and wooden fencing, and an occasional pizza box. I had stuffed a large plastic garbage bag full of autumn leaves and set it in the garden. My intention was to dig those leaves into the newly turned soil and pile them around tomato plants. Right now that bag sat, bloated, in the middle of the garden waiting for me, and spring.
I walked around the covered area. Stopped and called for Uriah.
Uriah came over and sat next to me and stared at the garbage bag like I had commanded him to, and then looked up at me waiting for a biscuit.
I pointed to one of the tarps. “You think we can uncover one part and set up a cold frame?”
Uriah actually looked as though he were thinking. He stood up and stepped into a section that was not covered and slowly tried to dig in the dirt. Then he looked up at me with mud stuck to his paws.
“Okay! I get it too mushy to play in, maybe next week!”
Uriah looked at me, sighed, then walked over to a hole and stuck his nose in it, and then he stood back and sneezed.
“Right! That last rat has to go!” I backed away. I am not crazy about rodents! “You get right on that!” I raised my eyebrows and kept inching backwards.
Uriah isn’t fond of rats! This rat has taken his biscuits, food and chew toys over the past few months. Whenever I mention that fact, I am told rats bite, hard! Uriah gave me a look and went into the kennel and slipped into his dog igloo and left me standing there, alone.
I looked up into the sky, I could hear the high pitch scream of the Red Tail Hawk.
“Hey, Uriah maybe the hawk will get that last rat for us!”
I turned my attention to the birds. I could hear Blue Jays screaming. The Black birds were congregating in the tree tops and a Robin chattered angrily at me from a Mulberry tree. Cardinals flitted in and out the branches of the leafless Crab Apple trees. Somewhere on top of the barn, Doves cooed in a rolling Scottish accent:-)
I pulled my camera out, fully intent on capturing a picture of that Robin. I haven’t seen one since December. I started snapping pictures of the clouds and the lack of snow.
Uriah decided he was bored and followed me to find that Robin. Except every time I pointed the camera he decided to bark at the birds. I gave him a biscuit, or three. He was trying to protect me from the, big mean Robins. How dare they chatter at me…
