|I had just shoveled. Then it snowed|
again. A lot.
|Back deck - I'm running out of|
room to toss the snow.
|From deck to coop. You can see the |
little 'present' the dogs left me. In
the middle of the path.
|Front deck to carport. Guess there's|
no chance of the carport blowing
This week looks to be another repeat of the past three. Hopefully, without the snow. I had my friend, Lisa, over for dinner yesterday and the snow piled on either side of the path was almost as high as she was. She cheerfully noted that, should she fall, she wouldn't go far if she fell sideways. I ushered her in and we tucked into scalloped potatoes, roasted herbed chicken thighs with cranberry infused sauce, steamed broccoli and apple/peach crisp for dessert. Then we discussed long underwear, skunks in cellars, egg freezing, milking difficulties in below-zero temps, the price of milk, knitting, families, dogs, and fracking pros and cons. Actually, there were no 'pros' to the fracking part of the conversation. I would love to say that my dogs were wonderfully behaved, but that would be a bald-faced lie. While they do not overtly beg at the table when I'm dining solo, add a guest and there is no getting rid of them. Pepper little noggin pops up between ones knees. Lovey rests her little chin on one's thigh and casts worried, starving looks your way. Scrappy leans heavily, large, sorrowful brown eyes inevitably directed at me - wasting away from hunger by the second. It is embarrassing. The best that I can muster is to get them out of physical contact - and then they circle the table like benign sharks.
However, once the guests leave, they do an amazingly thorough job on the greasy pots and pans. I was thinking of renaming Pepper, "Brillo".