The Winter of No Sun, More Pinkness and the Adventures of the Baby Hippo

This has been the gloomiest winter in memory.  On Sunday, January 22, there was 15 minutes of sun.  I dropped everything and hustled outside so that I could sit on the deck steps, close my eyes and soak it in.  All 15 minutes and no seconds of it.  Then it was gone.


It may surprise some of you that I wrestle with depression.  Yes, yes, that positive, chirpy exterior sometimes is a brittle façade.  It does not help me one little bit when there is no sun for days, weeks and weeks.  I pump up the D3 during winter and eat as much dark green, leafy vege as I can shovel in, but we're barely breaking even this year.  Then there was the loss of my 'boy', Scrappy.  Even though I knew it was coming and had been bracing myself, the reality is a whole other plane of heartbreak.  Still, I am the poster girl for stiff upper lips, so - one foot in front of the other.  I manage to keep an even keel by focusing on all the good things - and there are plenty.  There are my family and friends.  There are my dogs and cats, chickens and ducks, sheep and llama.  There is the faith I have that kindness, compassion and honesty will overcome all the anti-light-giving crap that we are currently experiencing.  When I need an extra boost, I don my bright pink PussyHat.

(Pardon the blurry pic.)  The plaster cast of one
of my father's sculptures proudly holds the
pinkest of PussyHats until it is needed.

Speaking of pink... Although I have come to embrace the power of Pink, there is only so much of it that I am willing to clasp.  After knitting three hats, I still had quite a bit left of the skein of bubblegum pink yarn - what to do....  We all know that I am adamantly against waste, so it must be used!  I think I've come up with a plan.  And it involves a giveaway...details to come when it's finished.

Bertie continues to make progress.  He is a tater tot of a baby hippo, with the most endearing folds and wrinkles under his chin.  Gah.  I do have to keep reminding myself that he is still a puppy, even though he has an old man's face.  Lovey was also two when she came to me, but she was a whole nuther banana.  This one is very self-confident, has extremely limited focus and was born to chew.  I managed to rescue an ill-placed hiking boot before it was unwearable, and I have been finding most all of my mittens, ear warmers and scarves outside.  Until he gets the house rules under his belt/collar, Bertie is crated when I am not around him.  It works well, as he needs to be kept quiet for a while until his kennel cough is better.


Bertie is gradually meeting the rest of the inhabitants - he met Linden through the fence, nose-to-nose.  It's Linden's duty, as Head Sheepie, to check out all newcomers.  He took a sniff, snorted and did a hasty retreat.  Bertie barked his head off.  There are crows and squirrels.  There are chickens.  There are ducks.  There are crunchy treats.  As we work him into our routine, there have been some 'bumps'.  When I get home from work it is dark (surprise...not).  I let everyone out of various crates, put my boots on (careful to put my work shoes on the table), then we all pile out of the back door and out into the chicken yard.  While Lovey was never brave enough to squeeze through a dark, open chicken door, Bertie has no such qualms.  I managed to snag him before he was totally inside.  I left them to run around while I went in the person door and checked for eggs.  There is no light in the coop, with the exception of my headlamp.  I left the coop, shut the door and headed over to the duck house and closed them in.  As I walked toward the deck, I heard some kerfuffle from the coop - nothing new there.  I called Bertie.  And called.  And called.  No Bertie.  (Sound of the other shoe dropping)  Coop!!!  I beat a hasty path to the coop and there he was - having silently slipped in behind me - with chicken in mouth and one on the floor.  OMG.  I shooed him out and checked the hens - both were alive but damp and more than a bit traumatized.  I put one hen in a nesting box so she could recover and the other hopped onto the roost, apparently no worse for wear.   In the morning, both were fine.  He is not a vicious dog, but he is very BUSY.


While there is definitely more work involved, now that Bertie is one of us (the hall rug must be scrubbed this weekend, shoes and boots are no longer handy by the door), he is definitely worth it.  I am hoping to get a video (then garner enough technical skills to upload it to the blog - haha) of the two dogs playing.  It's like watching a baby hippo on a mad trot, chasing a gazelle.


Potato Leek Soup is on this weekend's menu - leeks were sliced and frozen from my organic bonanza at the best farmers market EVER in South Portland, ME.  I'm having a friend over for dinner on Sunday, so I am fishing out a small turkey breast, making mashed potatoes from my stores, and creamed corn from my frozen corn.  I've got lots of bits and bobs in the freezer that I need to use up, so this week's meal planning should be fusion at its weirdest!