I forgot to mention something that struck me as hilarious that I saw along my route home Friday afternoon. Near the edge of one small town that I visit at least once a year, I passed a large Victorian home that had been added to in a big way many years ago (in an industrial sort of way). It’s now a bed and breakfast. I called my mom and she said that it was a hospital when she was a kid. As for me, I can vouch for the fact that for at least 40 years, it was a FUNERAL HOME! I have to wonder if they mention that fact to their guests.
For some reason, today, I got to wondering about the background of an old iron kettle I have. I remember Mom planting flowers in it every year out by the dinner bell post. (I have the bell, too.) Amazingly, it never rusted through or froze and cracked. So, I cabbaged it many years ago and it now sits in my basement, should I ever decide to make some lye soap or a REALLY big batch of stew. It turns out that it came from my dad’s side of the family, but she doesn’t know any more than that. That places it to at least my grandparents, but I don’t know if it was from earlier. It has a folding handle to go with it.
The Mighty Dachshund has long hair, but she’s still been shivering in the extreme cold when I take her outside to relieve her bowels. As a result, she’s decided to wait until spring to poop. When I take her out for anything more than just a quick drain, she sniffs the breeze, listens to any distant dog baying, looks for squirrels in the treetops, or does anything else to keep her mind off the subject that I keep encouraging her to consider. It’s not a complete success for her, though. Every two or three days, the pressure has to be relieved and she prances back into the house a colder, but much lighter dog.
Driving around back of the Chinese Emporium today to avoid traffic, I spotted a single Canada goose standing by the railroad tracks, turning his (her?) head and looking skyward. I had to wonder about the lone goose, since no other geese were anywhere in sight. Most of the geese are still in flocks, but I notice a few pairs starting to separate from the group. I’m sure they aren’t nesting in this horrible weather, though. The goose seemed to walk okay when it moved and I saw no ruffled wing to indicate injury, so hoping for the best, I drove on. Perhaps it’s lost its mate since last year or, maybe, it’s just waiting on its mate to return from a short excursion. I hope the latter.
For some reason though, as I looked at the lone goose, the sixth and seventh verses of the 102nd Psalm came to mind: “I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am like an owl of the desert. I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.” © 2015