There are days when little things to write to you pop into my head and I come sit here in the office and rattle off an entry.
Other days, nothing. Yesterday was one of those, and so far today too. However, the antidote to that is to sit here and write something anyway. Start with Hello and see what comes.
Something always does.
I’ve been picking zucchini off the one plant in the garden for the past two weeks. I pick them small, just the right size to be sliced and pan-fried/steamed with butter, onion, green pepper, carrot, mushrooms — whatever’s on hand — for a single meal. There haven’t been any big enough for the past few days but if we just get a bit of heat and sun now, there will be dozens ready to eat.
Their flowers are huge and glorious.
Secret Agent Woman, yes for sure we were concerned about the cat. The black one, Kizzy, is quite large so I didn’t imagine the owl could pick him up. Scott thought it might. It didn’t. Kizzy was still here yesterday.
Scott also worries about Duckie Doodle, who weighs 11 pounds. I can see a bald eagle nabbing him, but not an owl. Hope I’m correct. One doesn’t generally see bald eagles right above our yard, mind you, let alone on the other side of the living room window.
Something has killed all the kittens, though, it seems (unless the few remaining have been elsewhere for the past couple days). They’ll appear healthy and growing, about two months old or three, and then I find them laying dead in the barn. They don’t look wounded in any way. Scott goes and picks up the bodies with a shovel and gets rid of them, as I haven’t the stomach. Bless him for doing it; I will have to do something particularly “womanly” in return, like sew on a button. Hee! (My knots don’t hold. Buttons I sew on fall off anyway, no matter how many double knots I tie in the thread. Maybe I’ll rub his shoulders instead. Alex, keep quiet; I can imagine what your suggestion might be.) He’s going to put a camera out there to see what we can see, if anything. The raccoons are probably still around but one would think if they were killing kittens, they’d eat them. Or that you’d see damage on the bodies.
Maybe a virus has gone through them, like the vet suggested was possible when I took that dying kitten in for treatment a couple months ago. “Keep an eye on them,” she said. None of these others looked sick though, so … dunno.
See? Something always presents itself.