The cats' tree house.

With Mickey and Sweet Pea in mind, we drove into College Station today to look at those carpeted 'tree houses' made for indoor cats.  I had seen one at our neighbor's house over the weekend.... she swore that her cat loved it, and if I were a cat, I could understand the attraction. Poles to climb, baskets to nap in, places to hide.... and everything covered in soft carpeting.

I had looked at some on the Internet that looked interesting (and offered free shipping), but the buyer-feedback on a lot of those said that they weren't sturdy enough for adult cats but would be fine for kittens.  We don't have kittens, and (as I keep saying) we don't want another cat (or kitten).

PetCo and PetsMart.... they both had the carpeted tree houses.  PetsMart had the best selection, plus they were on floor-level display shelves so you could see how they were made.  The ones in PetCo were up top on high shelves and you could barely see the price, let alone the construction.  Back to PetsMart we went, and my husband thought the tallest one with the most levels would be the best bet.

"And what will we do with this thing if the cats don't like it?"  I'll save the receipt and we'll just bring it back.    "And what will we do with it when we no longer have Mickey and Sweet Pea, because we don't want to get any more cats, you know."   We can sell this one on Craig'sList.   The PetsMart guy carried it to the register, then carried it out to our car.  Of course, the tree house didn't fit into the trunk.  And it was too long to lay across the back seat, even though we have a full-size car. 

When I suggested that we just bring this large tree house back into the store and exchange it for one of the smaller ones, the PetsMart guy got creative..... he turned it upside down, put the top end on the floor in front of the passenger seat, put that seat all the way back into the 'recline' setting, and managed to get that "Cat Yard" tree house into the car while asking me if I would mind sitting in the back seat for the drive home.  As we drove back from College Station, my husband said it was like that movie "Driving Miss Daisy."

We pulled into our driveway and J&J up the road were on the way home with their new toy (a brand-spanking-new riding lawn mower--- they don't have cats, so their toys are much different than ours).  My husband recruited J to help him get the tree house out of the car and into the house, which probably saved at least two of my fingernails.  (Never getting on a riding lawn mower will save the other eight nails.)

I put the cats into 'their' bathroom while I got out the vacuum and ran it over the carpeting in the TV room (which is more "the cats' room" than our TV room these days.  While the cats were behind the closed door of the bathroom, I set up the tree house in front of the windows, along with their other cat-sized furniture.  Surely, any indoor cat would just love to explore the little wicker house, the wicker table, and now (the star attraction in the center) a carpeted tree house that put a $150 dent on my credit card.

My husband and I stood in the TV room watching as the cats explored their surprise. Mickey was the first one to jump onto the second-level, Sweet Pea climbed to the third level, and when I put Mickey up into the very top sleeping-basket, Sweet Pea tried to get him out of there with a couple of paw-swipes on Mickey's nose.  Mickey didn't budge.... he was six feet from the floor and looking out of the top half of the windows.  Now the cats have a room with a view.

The book I'm reading now is by Julia Child--- "My Life in France."  The French have a saying about their beloved cats (who freely roam around the inside of village restaurants)..... "A house without a cat is like a life without sunshine."  So say the French.  I will have to remember that the next time either Mickey or Sweet Pea do something so thoroughly stupid, so thoroughly un-cat-like, something that makes us go out to buy a $150 conglomeration of wood and PVC pipe and carpeting that probably cost about $35 to make.

Daddy and Marlene Dietrich.

An envelope came in today's mail from my cousin R....... after much searching, he found an old black/white World War II photo of my dad, taken in Germany after a USO Show in 1945.  Daddy was sitting on a bench outside a large concrete and stone building, and right next to him was the actress Marlene Dietrich.  She had been part of the USO Show and had offered to have her picture taken with any of the soldiers who wanted to sit there next to her. (As if any of the soldiers would have refused?)

My dad and my Aunt Dolly had talked about that photo with Marlene Dietrich over the years, but I had never seen it.  Aunt Dolly kept important papers and keepsake items either in the family safe or tucked up in the attic.   If something was in the safe, she would tell you that she didn't have time 'right now' to open the safe.  If the item was up in the attic (the third floor of the house, actually) she would tell you that she didn't have time to go through 'all of those rooms' to look for it. (There were just three rooms up in the attic.)

But every time Marlene Dietrich was in an old movie on Channel 9 years ago, Aunt Dolly would start talking about 'that time in Germany when your father had his picture taken with Marlene Dietrich and we all couldn't believe it until he finally sent us the photograph.'

Well, thanks to cousin R, now I have seen the photo, and I've already put it into a picture frame, and it's sitting on one of the tables in the living room.  Daddy has the biggest smile on his face as he sits there with his arm around Marlene Dietrich....... he's looking at the camera, Marlene is looking at him and holding his army helmet against her knee.  As my cousin R said, it looks like my dad's shoulders are going up and down as he laughs and smiles into the camera.  When daddy laughed very hard at something, his shoulders seemed to take on a life of their own, and that's just how it looks in the photo. She was smiling, he was laughing.... if you didn't know the history of the picture, you would never guess there was a war (a War) going on around them.

I have quite a few old family pictures in the living room, mostly black & whites.... wedding pictures of my parents and my husband's parents, daddy in his Army uniform, my husband when he was a toddler, me when I was a baby, my aunts and uncles at my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary party, and now, daddy and Marlene Dietrich.

It's better to have the family history out in the open, not tucked in a safe, or up in the attic. You are who you are because of that family....

Peachy keen.

We got out early today and went to a peach farm in Hempstead....... you can pick your own peaches there, as well as blackberries. My husband found the farm, called to ask if a city girl like me would be able to pick peaches without walking through knee-high grass or climbing on a ladder....... so off we went, first thing this morning.

The peach farm was tucked away in the woods, but easy to find with good directions.  Nicely kept property, with mowed fields, perfectly lined-up peach trees and blackberry vines. They had boxes and little red wagons for everyone...... the box goes into the red wagon, they point you in the direction of the trees ready for picking, and off you go.  Some flies and bees around the few peaches that had fallen to the ground, but other than that, everything was super-clean and the peach-picking was a lot of fun.

We filled up a box, enough for us, and for our friends up the road....... back to the peach-counting shed we went with the little red wagon, with a short stop near the blackberry vines for a look-see.  We don't like blackberries, and we didn't get a small basket to pick those, but they really did look pretty and good enough to eat right off the vine.  The blackberries also looked easy to pick because of the neat rows of the vines, and they had black cloth tacked down along the rows so you weren't standing in the dirt as you picked the berries.

After we paid for our peaches, we transferred them into our own bucket, then we looked up and saw the little sign that said "Fresh Peach Ice Cream."   Well, how can you resist that?  It was just about nine o'clock in the morning, but I only had time for a banana before we left the house....... so fresh peach ice cream for breakfast sounded good to me. Sometimes you just have to break the rules.

The good, the bad, the ugly........

The good.............. there was a peacock in the yard yesterday... beautiful male with the bright blue and green coloring and feathers...... he started out by the pond, made his way up through the front field, and when my husband took his picture, the peacock was walking around our gazebo. Gorgeous bird.... don't know where he came from, and don't know where he was heading (probably on the look-out for a mate).  I looked around the property today, but didn't see him.

The bad...... this morning, I let Sweet Pea out into the yard. I've been doing that from time to time, letting him out for about half an hour every morning so he doesn't get too crazy in the house.  Usually, Sweet Pea walks around the house and the cottage for a little while, realizes that the barn swallows don't like him and start dive-bombing his little cat self, and then I will call his name and he comes running up to the back door and is very happy to come back inside to a never-ending supply of fresh water and cat food.

This morning, however.... Sweet Pea didn't come back when I called him.  I walked all around the property from the house to the cottage, I looked inside the garage, inside the barn...... I went upstairs to the balconies and looked out over the fields. No sign of that cat.  Back outside and I started to call him again.... I heard the tiniest of meows coming from underneath the porch steps out back by the deck.  I called his name again, and the same little meow came out. Definitely Sweet Pea, but why wasn't he coming out?

That's when I heard the distinct sound of a snake moving in the crispy leaves under there. Sweet Pea must have heard the snake, gone under the steps to investigate, and either the snake had him cornered or he was just too afraid to move.  Snake or no snake, I wanted Sweet Pea out of there. I stood there and called him again, and again, and again, to let him know I was right there.  Wonder of wonders, out he came, very slowly at first, and then he lunged and ended up practically wrapped around my ankles.

Gatsby was right there next to me, and as Sweet Pea came out, Gatsby went under the steps and he must have scared the snake into moving because I heard the slithering-through-the-leaves sound again, so the snake must have gone out the other side of the steps. By that time, I had Sweet Pea up in my arms and I was carrying him back to the house while he was trying to bury his head into my neck.

From now on, Sweet Pea stays in the house with Mickey.  No more look-sees out into the yard for that cat.

The ugly......  we sat down for lunch in the breakfast room today and what's on the window behind me? A tarantula. Big, black, hairy, ugly.  It had crawled up underneath the wooden frame of the screen, and was suspended between the mesh of the screen and the glass of the window pane.  Not as big as other ones I've seen on the porch, but big enough. And ugly enough to make your skin crawl.  And I know they eat mosquitoes... but I don't care. I'd rather see the mosquitoes.

My husband unscrewed the window screen and got the tarantula to move off into the garden....... last we saw it, the spider-on-steroids was sitting on a sage plant. Hopefully, it won't find its way back onto the porch and back underneath the frame of the window screen.

We're living in a zoo, I swear...... an endless array of creatures and critters, none of which I want to see. Except for the peacock--- that one was okay. And if he had stayed around the property and made himself at home by our gazebo, my husband said we would have named him "NBC."

Houdini and BlueBell.

The little yellow and green parakeet that I found in the backyard last year must have escaped from his cage...... we named him Houdini when he flew into a little cage I had put up under the rose arbor.  I just knew he had been someone's pet bird, just because he would stay close to me when I was out in the yard.  So the cage in the arbor, complete with fresh birdseed and water, became his new home.  I brought the cage into the house, of course, and we went to PetCo and bought another parakeet (blue and white) to keep Houdini company.  (My husband was joking last year that the 'free bird' ended up costing us fifty dollars.)

During this past year, both Houdini and BlueBell became the best of friends, chirping and singing and tossing birdseed out of their cage so my 'dust-buster' thing could get some use. 

Being that we were away for a week, I thought the parakeets would like an hour or two on the balcony.... it was a very pretty day, the balcony was in the shade, no breeze, and the birds were used to getting fresh air out there at least two or three times a week.   I put the cage on the little table that I keep out there just for the cage.

Less than an hour later, I went back out to the balcony to bring the cage inside before the sun got to that part of the balcony.  I stood there in total disbelief........... the cage was fine, still on the little table, but the door to the cage was open and of course the birds weren't in there.  I stood there, just staring at the cage, and I could hear both Houdini and BlueBell up in the pecan trees, singing and chirping very happily.  I called out to Houdini, and he chirped back at me, just like he always did when he was in his cage.  I didn't expect him to fly back.......... which would you pick--- a bird cage or a pecan tree?

I paced around the house, telling my husband what happened, and also telling him that I knew that the door to the cage was closed when I put it out there. I checked that little door every time I walked past the cage, so I know the birds didn't open that door.  If they were able to do that, they would have opened it a long time ago.  We left the cage right where it was, with the door open, hoping the parakeets would fly back into it.  My husband started singing "Fly, robin, fly...."

My husband and I had lunch on the front porch that day. Every once in a while, I would hear the parakeets, way up in the pecan trees.  Halfway through lunch, I heard a slight rattling of the cage up on the balcony.  I ran down the front steps and looked up.... and there was a squirrel, with half of his body inside the bird cage, his head probably in the little dish with the birdseed.  I think I screamed out "What the hell?!"  and the squirrel backed out of the cage, jumped on the railing of the balcony, then he jumped up to the roof and ran under an eave.

So there was our answer.... that's how the door to the cage got opened, and that's how the parakeets flew out.  Stupid squirrel.  I was so mad that I told my husband to set up a trap, to shoot the squirrel, to do something to get rid of that stupid squirrel.   I know that squirrels are very clever, and I know how they can get into just about every bird-feeder known to man, but never in a million years would I have thought a squirrel would even try to open up a bird cage.

We kept two cages outside for three days.... one on the balcony, one in the pecan tree.... the little doors were open so the parakeets could fly into them, and I was going up and down the stairs every fifteen minutes, hoping to see either Houdini or BlueBell inside the cages.   Each cage had fresh water and birdseed, but the only creature that was enjoying both was the squirrel.  

I finally gave up. I brought the cages inside.  I haven't heard the parakeets up in the pecan trees since late Sunday afternoon.  My husband thinks they have moved on, and he's probably right.  He offered to go and buy two more parakeets, one green and yellow, one blue and white.  I told him I didn't want to replace the birds.  If they come back, fine. If not, that's fine too.  They're birds, and they're probably having the time of their life.... and I hope they stayed together.

But just in case Houdini does remember the bird feeder out under the rose arbor, I've been filling it up with birdseed every morning.  When I go out into the yard or out by the coop, I look up in the rose arbor to see if his green and yellow feathers are peeking out like they did last year.  If I see him, I will put his cage out under the arbor........ like I did last year when it took him all of three seconds to fly into the cage and jump on the little swing.

It just gets me so mad to know that I was out-smarted by a stupid squirrel. I was always so careful with those birds... never did I think that putting the cage out on the balcony or the porch would be an invitation to a squirrel.  Stupid squirrel.  Stupid me.

Settling back in....

We have now seen both Yellowstone and Yosemite.  If I had to choose my favorite, I couldn't. It would be like comparing apples and oranges, as that old saying goes.

Yosemite had beautiful waterfalls, and unbelievable granite cliffs--- how does anyone climb way up to the top of Half Dome or El Capitan?  While we were in Yosemite, the only hiking we did was on nice and smooth paved paths.... more like walking than hiking.  And if it hadn't been for the four days of a head-cold that I had there, the walking wouldn't have bothered me.  As it was, I never did get to the top of the path to see Vernal Falls, but my husband did.  Even if I had felt well enough to get all the way to the top, I don't think I would have walked out on the bridge that was up there.... I don't need to get wet from a waterfall to appreciate its beauty.

I think everyone in this country should see at least one of our national parks.  When you're in the middle of all of that unbelievable post-card scenery, you realize just how minuscule we all are in the workings of the world.  All the petty complaints and grudges and judgments really don't matter at all in this world.  Places like Yellowstone and Yosemite.... they'll continue on long after anyone reading this (or writing this) is gone. Unless, of course, mankind becomes totally stupid and careless and decides that the national parks need to be shopping malls instead of preserved green-space.

San Diego was a lot of fun, between the famous zoo and Sea World.  "Old Town San Diego" was beautiful, and as authentically Mexican as you can get without crossing the border.  Sacramento was a nice little town, but everything there seemed to cater to either government workers or 20-somethings.  The B&B that we stayed at the night before we flew home was beautiful, but our own hundred-yr-old Victorian is better, in my humble opinion.

The Cedar Lodge was great, the Yosemite Lodge was so-so.  I'd go back to the first, but wouldn't stay again at the second.  If money were no object, I'd stay at The Ahwahnee. I just can't justify spending that much money on a hotel room when we're out of it all day long and just use the room at night when our eyes are closed.  Lunch or dinner at The Ahwahnee shouldn't be missed, though.

We were away for our 17th anniversary, in San Diego that night..... my husband found a Greek restaurant not far from the hotel where we were staying.  Delicious Greek food, wonderful family-owned restaurant.  We talked about our wedding dinner we had in the little NY cafe, owned by a Greek family, a very nice man who is no longer with us, who kept telling me "Will you get married already?  Get married and I will cook your wedding dinner for your friends and family."  And that's exactly what Lou did...... we think of him often, especially on every anniversary.

We flew Southwest..... from Austin to El Pasoo to San Diego, then from San Diego to Sacramento where we picked up the rental car that my husband drove to Yosemite.  Same flight-plan on the way home, without the San Diego stop.  No problems with Southwest.... no delays, no bumps, no surprises.  Thank you, Southwest, for the safe flights.

One funny thing during the flight home--- the flight attendants were going through the list of safety precautions, which we've all heard a thousand times and don't really listen to anymore.  At the end of the safety talk, the flight attendant said this: "To those passengers who paid attention to us just now, we thank you.... and to those of you who didn't even look up... good luck!"   Everyone on the plane just burst out laughing.

No matter where we go, no matter how beautiful the trip is, and we have been to some gorgeous places over the years.... it's always nice to put the key in our own back door and go to sleep in our own bed.

Back to Sacramento.... and then home.

We left Yosemite and headed once more for Sacramento... stopped at the little fruit market along the way (prices on the pistachio nuts were still over the moon but we bought a small package).  Stopped for lunch at Giusti's again.... still crowded there... not with a Mother's Day crowd, but with men of all ages, trying to out-talk each other as they waited for their lunch.  I was the only female in the place, besides the waitresses.

Our last night in Sacramento was at Amber House Bed & Breakfast not far from The Capital building.  The B&B was a restored Victorian, built in 1895.  The stained glass windows and original wood floors and the stairways... similar to our own..... but the rooms weren't as large.  I read the Guests' Comment Book that was in our room..... read it from cover to cover while my husband took a nap after all that driving.  The B&B's guests were overwhelmed by all of the Victorian touches around the house... how sleeping there was a luxury they wanted to repeat.... the quaintness of the B&B was something they wished they could have on a daily basis.  Reading that book, and adding my own comments, made me want to be home.... and also reminded me how lucky we are to be living in this type of historic home. (That lucky feeling usually goes away when I see a snake out by the chicken coop.)

We walked around Sacramento that afternoon, stopping at a cafe for dinner..... and walked through a very pretty park near the Capital building.  Not much to do there for us (after all we did in San Diego and Yosemite) but our time was limited, my husband was tired from the driving, and I was tired from dealing with a cold for the past five days.  And after walking through the B&B rooms, I was just ready to be home in our own hundred-yr-old Victorian.

Two more silver charms for my 'travel charm bracelet'--- a tiny panda bear from the San Diego Zoo, and a charm of Yosemite Falls. 

Yosemite National Park

Our first stop was the Cedar Lodge, not quite inside Yosemite, but close enough on the way in the Sierra National Forest.  A really nice play to stay, with huge carved bears all over the property that seemed to have been carved out of the giant sequoia trees.  The Lodge's restaurant was excellent.... delicious fish, great desserts, a really nice menu.  Only downside there was one of the other guests in the dining room had a very bad cold... and the next day, that cold was mine also.  I woke up in the middle of the night with a cough.... my husband went to the lobby and they opened up the little store so he could get me orange juice and cough drops.

We took a tram ride into the Mariposa Sequoia Grove... giant sequoia trees wherever you looked...... so massive that your neck started to hurt because you had to look up so high.  And if you remembered to look down on the ground, you would find the most beautiful red flowers called SnowPlants.... they come up after the snow melts, and only last a month or so. 

We had lunch at the Wawona Hotel.... huge white 1879 Victorian hotel with a wrap-around porch.  Beautiful grounds, very peaceful... reminded me of our own home and property. All you needed to enjoy yourself there would be a stack of books and a comfortable chair.  Lunch was delicious, dining room was beautiful, and the views were postcard-perfect.

We also ate one day at The Ahwahnee.... another huge hundred-yr-old hotel with massive stone work and Indian motifs from floor to ceiling. Yet another four-star menu, great service, delicious food.... and if you have yet another stack of un-read books, this is the place to read them. (You also need a stack of money to stay there overnight.)

After two nights at Cedar Lodge, we stayed two nights at the Yosemite Lodge, right in the center of the park.  A little sad and tired, not as nice as Cedar Lodge, but more convenient to all the waterfalls and granite mountains.  We took gentle, sane walks to see the falls and the postcard-worthy views, nothing strenuous (especially since I was still popping cough drops and using tissues by the handfuls).  I'm sure the cold germs that I had were passed on to some of the other visitors in the park. My apologies.

Two surprises in Yosemite--- all the dogwood trees, wherever you looked... all of them blooming and beautiful and looking so delicate and out-of-place next to the giant trees and cliffs.  And blue jays--- large blue jays, called Stellar's Jays...... black-capped heads, midnight-blue bodies.... gorgeous birds that seemed to be comfortable getting close to the park's visitors.

Funny thing about the squirrels in Yosemite..... the squirrels along the walking trails looked to be in excellent condition, lean and lithe and jumping from branch to branch.  The squirrels near the lodges and hotels, however--- very hefty, soft little bellies that touched the pavement as they walked slowly from one park visitor to the next, silently begging for food. There's a $250 fine for feeding the squirrels.... not to mention a $5000 fine for trying to feed the bears. (Are people that stupid?)

We saw Mirror Lake, The Swinging Bridge, Upper & Lower Yosemite Falls, Vernal Falls (my husband hiked closer to that one that I did), Bridalveil Falls, Half Dome, El Capitan. I bought postcards of all the famous sites within the park.... kept some for me and mailed some out to my cousins.  My husband takes pictures when we travel, I buy postcards.

We left Yosemite Lodge right after breakfast after the second night there. We were due to leave that day anyway, but they had some sort of 'pre-planned power outage' that was set to begin at 7:00 in the morning and last till 5:00 that afternoon.   We weren't happy about that, nor were other guests of the Lodge.  It seems to me that if the power outage had been pre-planned, then the Lodge should have told their guests about that when the reservations were made.  Not nice.

Sacramento and Merced

We left San Diego after three days, flying into Sacramento where we picked up a rental car. No more cabs... we had a drive ahead of us, going to Yosemite National Park.  We never did adjust to California time.... waking up at 5:00 or 6:00 every morning.  It always felt like we were two or three hours ahead of everyone around us.

Another Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives restaurant was near Sacramento--- "Giusti's."  Tiny little place on a boat canal in an even tinier town called Walnut Grove.  Without a map, you wouldn't even know the place was there, but the crowds inside were mostly local residents who seemed to know just about everyone in the place.  Hundreds of baseball-style caps line the ceiling over the front room of the restaurant, and the daily menu is written on white-boards hanging on all of the walls.

We got to Giusti's on Mother's Day.... my husband had called ahead to make reservations, telling the owner that we were coming right from the airport and could they possibly squeeze us in on such a busy day?  They could, and they did.  Busy, busy, busy place........... not the fanciest of restaurants (definitely in the "Dive" category) but the food was good, the service was better, and we ate there twice..... the first time after landing in Sacramento, and the second time during the drive back to the airport after Yosemite.

The town of Merced was between Sacramento and Yosemite.  They call Merced "The Gateway to Yosemite" and the main part of the town has small shops and cafes and stores.  We didn't stop there in the center of Merced, but we did stop for home made ice cream at a really nice fruit market on the outskirts of the town.  Lots of tour buses there, but the staff at the market didn't seem flustered or overwhelmed by 48 bus riders walking into their store at the same time.

The fruit market also sold pistachio nuts..... there were pistachio trees growing on acres and acres of land between Sacramento and Yosemite.  Now you would think the nuts in that market would have been a great price, being that they're picked within a mile or two of the store, but the prices were off the charts. (As were all the prices of everything in that state, from nuts to gas, from soda to a slice of apple pie.)

When we were in California, we heard the news about the enormous amount of the state's deficit.  They could make an awful lot of money selling pistachio nuts, if only they'd lower the darn prices.

San Diego

 We flew out of Austin last week, heading first to El Paso, then flying into San Diego.  Just about every third person in the Austin airport was wearing a "Keep Austin Weird" tee-shirt, and every fifth person had a piece of metal stuck into parts of their head that were never meant to have holes.

Our first full day in San Diego was a day-long hike around the Zoo.  Huge place, beautifully landscaped, with very natural enclosures for the animals.  As natural a habitat as an animal can have in a zoo, I guess.  We also spent half of the next day at Sea World..... the dolphins and the whales were expected, but the surprise was a show with cats and dogs, all of them running from one side of the stage to the other in a well-choreographed display of talents most likely discovered by their extremely patient trainers.

My husband found the Blue Water Fish Market & Grill, one of the restaurants featured on "Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives," and we had dinner there one night.  Down the street from the restaurant was a British Tea Garden and Bakery..... we were too late for tea in their garden, but the shop was open and everything in it was imported from Britain.  We also ate at Hob Nob Hill -- another "Triple D" featured restaurant.  The food was good at both places, but Blue Water Grill was our favorite.

San Diego is also home to Balboa Park.... beautiful grounds filled with hundred-year-old buildings from a turn-of-the-century Exposition.  I thought of my Uncle Mino as I stood there looking up at the intricate architecture.... he used to walk around Manhattan, looking up at all the vintage architectural designs.  He would suggest that I go into The City and "Look up! Look up!"  So there, in Balboa Park, I looked up for you, Uncle Mino.

We didn't rent a car in San Diego... for the few days we were there, we took cabs--- not one of the cab drivers was U.S.-born.  They came from Persia, Ethiopia, Lebanon, Russia, Afghanistan.  The Russian cab driver told us that his only regret was not coming to the U.S. sooner. When I commented that the California winters were certainly nicer than Russian winters, he very seriously told me "It isn't the weather... it's this country."  He said those last three words with such conviction and feeling that I apologized for taking 'this country' for granted.  The cab driver said that it was just human nature, to overlook such freedoms that one is born with.

We were in San Diego for our 17th anniversary, and my husband found a Greek restaurant just two blocks from our hotel. We walked there for dinner that night, and had more or less the same menu choices that we had for our wedding dinner.  We talked of the wedding and the dinner afterwards, and of friends who celebrated with us that are no longer here.

We spent some time in Old Town San Diego.... filled with Mexican restaurants and markets and shops..... and we stopped in an old Mission church that was quiet and peaceful. Living in Texas, we have our fill of Mexican food and merchandise, so we didn't eat or shop there, but it was nice to walk around and listen to the Mexican music.

While we were sitting in the Mission church, there was an old man in the last pew. He had rosary beads in one hand and his lips moved in silent prayer as his fingers counted off the beads.  The old man looked like a street person, very frail and tired.  Within minutes of sitting down in the church, we saw a waitress from one of the restaurants come into the church with a plastic bag filled with a to-go dinner. She was looking for the person who ordered the meal.... apparently, they told her to bring it to the church, but she couldn't find the customer.  The old man with the rosary saw the waitress holding the bag of food and he patted his stomach as if to say "I'm hungry.... I can eat that."  The waitress asked the old man if he had ordered it, but he shook his head no, and patted his empty pockets. He went back to his rosary beads, the waitress went back to asking every person in the church if they had ordered the food.

When we were leaving the church, the waitress asked us if the to-go order was ours. I said no, but suggested to her that she give the food to the old man.  She told me that she had to find the customer who ordered it. I told her that if she didn't find the customer, to just give the food to the old man with the rosary beads.  I don't know what happened.... we left the church and went on our way. 

For the next couple of hours, though, I kept seeing the face of that old man as he patted his stomach and then patted his empty pockets. It made me wish that I had just paid the waitress for that to-go dinner, then given the bag of food to the old man.  There are times in this life that you should just do what comes to mind, and that was one of the times that I wish I had listened to the little voice in my head.

Why did the snake cross the road?

To get to the other side, of course....

We all have snakes on the brain these days.  Being that the pastures are filled with waist-high grass and wildflowers (soon to be cut down for hay) the snakes have many places to hide.  Yesterday while we were doing our morning walk, I told J and J about Scarlett and the fake egg and the snake that was in the chicken coop.  After our walk, I was in the house and JS had just said good-bye and continued on up the hill towards her house..... and I heard the door bell ringing..... and it was J--- she told me that there was a huge snake in the middle of the road, up past our barn. (This all sounds so calm. Trust me--- we're not calm when we're talking about snakes. Even when we see car-flattened baby snakes in the roadway, we're tip-toeing past them as we walk.)

So there was yet another snake in the middle of the road.... right where she had to walk to get past our property and on up to hers.  Who in their right mind would walk past such a large snake? So of course J turned around and walked back to our house. (She might have been running, come to think of it.)  I opened up the kitchen door and all I heard was "Huge snake. Middle of the road. Up there by the barn."  My husband was just coming down the stairs at that moment, and I repeated some of the same words J had said: "Snake. In the road. The barn."  He grabbed the rifle, grabbed the bullets, and out we all went.

I walked with them as far the end of our driveway.  Did I want to go further and see another big snake? After seeing the huge snake that killed Scarlett just the day before?  I looked down at my feet. I was wearing my flat-heeled ballerina-type shoes that I just wear in the house. Not exactly snake-sighting shoes. (Plus, with snakes, any excuse for keeping my distance will do.)  As I stopped in my ballerina shoes at the end of the driveway, my husband put the rifle over his shoulder and started to whistle the theme song from "Bridge Over the River Kwai" and off they went.

I never did hear a shot fired.... the snake apparently did cross the road (he had been heading towards our side of the road, of course, when JS saw him)..... and heaven only knows where he went. Needless to say, I was overly cautious when I went into the coop yesterday. 

I didn't really expect Audrey or PittyPat to lay eggs yesterday, after what happened to Scarlett the day before, but PittyPat did lay an egg in the afternoon.  She usually lays her eggs in the bottom right nesting box,  next to the nesting box where Scarlett had been sitting on her fake egg.  PittyPat chose the upper left box for her egg-laying yesterday.  There's no doubt that both PittyPat and Audrey were witnesses to the snake-biting of Scarlett, so I guess the higher nesting boxes are going to be the favorite egg-laying spots for the last two hens.

The last two hens. No more chickens after these last two are gone. The thrill of finding fresh just-laid eggs out in the coop has long been replaced by a fear of egg-hunting snakes and chicken-hunting coyotes and hawks. Fresh eggs definitely taste better, but does it really matter? All I know is this.... it's taking me too damn long to walk into the coop these days--- my eyes search every corner, every plank, every inch of that coop before I set foot into it.  And then I have to turn around and check the nesting boxes, hoping and praying there isn't a snake between me and the gate of the coop.           

Who was it that said country life is serene and quiet? Chicken feathers to that.

Scarlett

And now we have two chickens, not three.  It has not been a good morning so far.

I went to the coop to let the chickens out this morning, and it was very quiet--- which should have been my first clue that something was wrong in the coop.   I woke up late, so I got to the coop later than usual, and the chickens would normally have been screeching their disappointment at being left in the coop later than seven o'clock.

When I unlocked the gate of the coop, both Audrey and PittyPat were standing there waiting to walk out--- still not a peep out of the them. Very quiet.  I looked into Scarlett's nesting box, where she's been sitting on that fake egg for the last three weeks, and poor Scarlett was on her side, dead in the box. At that point, I wasn't upset...  I thought she had just died in her sleep, which has happened to the hens before.  I left Scarlett where she was because I knew I had to go back to the house for a plastic bag to put her in, but before doing that, I figured I may as well clean up the coop floor.

I picked up the little shovel and dust-pan, and I was bent down towards the floor and that's when I saw the damn snake.... curled up in the basket that was in the corner of the coop.  The chickens liked that basket and would sit in it from time to time.  This morning, that damn snake was in there, curled up and resting, with a huge bulge in his body. Clearly, he had eaten something and then curled up in the basket to digest his meal.

I'm typing this so calmly, but I wasn't calm at the time. I got out of the coop and closed the gate behind me, then got myself back to the house and up the stairs and somehow got the words out to my husband that there was a snake in the coop and Scarlett was dead...  he was out of bed and down the stairs before I had finished two sentences.

My husband went out there with the rifle and shot the snake.  I stayed up on the porch, holding a big black Hefty bag and calling out to my husband to leave the snake in the basket, that I wasn't going to keep that stupid basket anymore and he could just pick up the basket and throw it away with the snake still in it. (I wonder if that would make  good advertising for the Hefty Company?  "Look at this, folks... our bags are strong enough to hold dead snakes that measure four feet long....")

Into the Hefty bag went the basket and the snake.... and then I asked my husband to take Scarlett out of her nesting box and put her in the Hefty bag also.  ("Not only do our Hefty bags hold heavy baskets and dead snakes, but you can toss in a dead chicken and the bag won't break.")  When Scarlett's body was out of the nesting box, that's when we saw that the fake egg was gone. The stupid snake must have killed Scarlett to get to that egg. Even though it was just a fake stone egg to satisfy her broody-stage self, the egg would have taken on Scarlett's odor and the snake wouldn't have known it wasn't real.

I'm guessing that the snake crawled up into the nesting box, Scarlett pecked at him to protect her egg, and then the snake bit her on the neck till she was dead, and then proceeded to swallow that egg.  The snake could have crawled under the gate to get to the nesting boxes, but once the fake egg was inside him, he couldn't have gotten himself back out.  Where to go.... what to do.....  Into the basket he went to digest a stone egg (which wouldn't have been possible anyway and would have killed him eventually if my husband hadn't shot him).

Once again. the hen that was lost was the one who was the friendliest... the most pet-like. Scarlett would let me pick her up and carry her to the coop, and if I didn't remember to do that, she would come out of the coop when she heard me coming to lock the gate and she would plop herself down by my feet so I could pick her up and carry her Royal Henness back to the coop.  She would come up to the kitchen door and just stand there looking in from time to time during the day, as if to remind me that she was out there and needed some attention. And once again, I'm telling my husband No More Chickens. No More Chickens. We'll just buy eggs from the store like everyone else.

So that was the morning....... two quiet chickens who watched from the roosting bar as a snake killed Scarlett and ate a stone egg...... and then me finding the curled-up snake in the basket and somehow getting myself back to the house without screaming all the way from the coop to the back door.  I guess I'm not a screamer...... my throat just closes up and my hands start to shake and I ask myself what in the world are we doing out here in the hills in the first damn place?!

A snake in the grass.....

.... and it found its way into one of the bird houses. Damn.

My husband and I were on our way into town the other day, and we drove up towards the barn first to look at the wildflowers.  As my husband drove the car slowly up the road, I saw six or seven sparrows on the fence near the barn. The birds were just sitting there, looking at the bird house, which is usually occupied by a bluebird.

That particular house had been claimed by a sparrow a couple of weeks ago, and my husband had just recently taken a photo of the nest filled with five or six brown-speckled eggs.  So there were the sparrows the other day, sitting quietly and staring at the little wood bird house.  My eye followed the birds' line of vision, and there at the bird house, wrapped around the roof of the little house, was a brown snake. Of course, the snake's head was inside the bird house. Damn.

I told my husband what I saw (and I was surprised that I wasn't screaming in the car)..... Actually, I was whispering (so the snake wouldn't hear me?)....... and my husband backed up the car all the way to the driveway and went inside to get the rifle.  Needless to say, I didn't go back to the barn with him.  I heard the shots from the house... three shots.  The first shot got the back of the snake's body... the second shot got the front of the snake as he turned towards my husband.... and the third shot was just to 'make sure.'  (My husband told me all of that when it was all over.)  I was standing in the courtyard listening to the shots, then my husband came walking towards the house with thedead body of the snake wrapped around the tip of the rifle.

Thankfully, the snake got into the bird house while the eggs were still eggs, not hatchlings.  Either way, it's a loss for the birds.  And yes, we know there are thousands upon thousands of sparrows.... but there could have been bluebird eggs in that box, and those birds are protected by Texas because it's the 'state bird.'

Protected?  How in the world do you 'protect' these birds --- or any birds --- from snakes?  Our friends J&J have also found snakes in their bird houses... and have now gone to extreme measures to try and keep them out.  J bought some strips of wood with tacks sticking out (wood strips that carpet-layers use) and those are now fastened around the poles supporting the bird houses.  We don't know yet if that's going to work, but you would think that a snake wouldn't want to be impaled on hundreds of carpet-tacks. (And can you imagine walking on your property and tripping over a rock and landing against one of those tacked-up bird house poles?)

It's sometimes hard to walk around your own property here.  You have to keep one eye on the ground to watch for slithering snakes, and the other eye up in the trees to watch for hanging snakes, which leaves no eye left to search for spider webs that can be strung up overnight under rose arbors and low branches of mesquite trees.

Western boots and jeans are helpful for walking the property, but one of those air-tight astronaut suits might even be a better idea.