Scurrying to and fro between the piles at the landfill site were half-a-dozen cats.
“Poor things. I feel sorry for them.”
“Why?” said Scott. “They’ve got a house and the attendant feeds them.”
On top of that, think of all the fresh meat the good hunters must get. It’d be a rodent smorgasbord, wouldn’t it?
I didn’t even get out of the truck to help Scott unload it. I had on my work clothes but forgot to wear a work jacket, and couldn’t risk my good parka. How to wangle out of dump duties without even trying.
We spent three hours on Saturday removing a border of vinyl wallpaper from beneath the ceiling of Emil’s room. (People who wallpaper were roundly cursed.) Yesterday I washed the walls while Scott patched holes, then painted the textured ceiling. (People who paint improperly were roundly cursed.) Today I’d guess we’ll get the walls primed, if not painted.
But first, Scott has been up doing some paperwork, taking care of some business via phone, and eating cold leftover Spanish Beans (recipe) for breakfast. He’s just left to “do chores.” Something about putting out bales? Or it could have been:
“Check the water bowls”
And the most frequent, the daily eyeballing just to see what’s what, so that intervention (if required) is early.
The cattle will be glad of this melty break from the cold snap.
Speaking of breaks from the cold, this just in from Cancun:
Before he left, he was remembering a similar scenario when he got a plane ride from Edmonton to Calgary for his sixth birthday. It was one of the many thrills of his life so far. There have been quite a few. People are ridiculously good to Emil.