All quiet on the ranch.....

Today is a drippy, dreary, cold, windy, rainy day. But on the bright side-- there isn't a scorpion or a bat in the house. Actually, we haven't had a problem with scorpions since we've had the pest-control company coming out here on a regular basis to spray their magic potion around the perimeter of the house. Plus, my husband put screening in all the air-conditioning vents, so scorpions aren't dropping out of the ceiling these days.

We had a huge thunderstorm last night... lightning, thunder, pouring rain-- the works. All the cats ran up the stairs at the first crack of thunder. I don't know who started the stampede, but within seconds, they were all up here and either hiding under the bed or under the chairs. I was keeping my fingers crossed that we wouldn't lose power in the storm, and we didn't. I have calmed down considerably since the bat was in the house the other night, but I don't know how calm I would have been in a pitch-black house in the middle of a raging thunder and lightning storm.

Sweet Pea, the newest cat who doesn't know that he isn't a she, has discovered the television set. He will sit and stare at whatever program is on... last night, he watched "House Hunters" with me. It was an international episode from Turkey, and Sweet Pea was particularly interested in the huge swimming pools and lush gardens. (Who knew such beautiful outdoor spaces would be in Turkey?)

In his journey through the house, Sweet Pea has also discovered that there is a cat-sized ledge in the dining room, just underneath the stained glass window. I caught him up there last night, peeking out of the clear-glass leaf pattern at the bottom of the amber-colored stained glass. How he got up there isn't a mystery-- he just jumped up on the serving table below that window, then jumped up to the ledge from there. As soon as I saw him, I walked over to him and took him down, explaining that if he wanted to be an inside cat, then he needed to keep his little murmuring heart away from certain places in this house. I got a meow in return-- which could have been either "I'm so sorry but the window is just so pretty!" or "You're kidding me, right? You're telling me what to do?"

The temperature has dropped down once again...... it was 60-something yesterday, and today is barely 50 degrees. I shouldn't complain, since my cousin F in NY eMailed me this morning to say it was minus one degree up there, thanks to the wind chill factor that the weathermen always toss into their announcement. "Today's high will be 57 degrees, but with the wind chill factor, you'll need to bundle up because it will feel like minus one out there." I wonder how many layers of clothing I would need to feel warm in those northern temperatures...

One of our neighbors' cows found its way onto our property the day before yesterday. I looked out the front window, and there she was, grazing in the grass near our pond. It was a pretty large cow, and for the most part, the cows that we've seen on neighboring properties have either been friendly (eating grass from my husband's hand) or stand-offish (walking away from the fence if we get too close). I draw the line at cows, though. I don't think they're cute, I don't want to hand-feed them, I don't want them on our property, so I wasn't going to go out into the field and shoo the cow back to her own pasture. My husband did just that, however. He walked way out there, got himself behind the cow and just started moving towards it, and the cow kept walking away from him and towards her own home.

Every once in a while, one of that neighbor's cows will be in our field, munching on the grass there. All of his cows look alike (big and brown, coffee-colored) and for all we know, it's been the same cow every time we see one on our property. We used to call the neighbor every time one of his cows came over here, but now, my husband just goes out there and gets the cow back with the others, on their own side of the fence. That particular neighbor joked with me once, telling me that his cows were his pets, "just like those chickens of yours," he said. I resisted the urge to tell him to make sure and call me if he found one of my chickens in his field and I'd come over and get her right quick. (NY sarcasm just doesn't work up here in the hills.)