Vic’s Mom sent him the wonderful fishing hat he’s wearing here, our first day out fishing since his birthday. I think it’s dashing. We caught no fish in either the Snake or Clearwater Rivers, but we always love being out fishing, regardless of whether we catch any fish.
I’m dreaming of a grey Christmas. . .
A grey and cloudy vista can be morale boosting or demoralizing. Personally I have no real preference. I like clouds. I can’t imagine a bright sunny Christmas day in the northwestern prairie where I live.
Saturday chores accomplished, my husband and I decided to go fishing in the Snake River beyond Asotin. We wanted to stand on a beach this time, instead of taking our boat. The fish were not biting, but a few jumped up from the water so we could know they were there, but they had no interest in coming home with us. We’ve had lots of fishing excursions like this, and we also have lots of freezer space occupied by cleaned, wrapped fish we’ve caught on several other occasions.
My husband loves fishing and fish. I love fishing and I am extremely allergic to fish and I never eat it. Fish are wonderful creatures. They can be beautiful, elusive, and eager to grab onto a lure, all within a few minutes or a full day. Sometimes I think I’m just there for the scenery. We can’t rule a fish’s instincts or choices; only fish can do that. We’re really just along for the ride. Fish have amazing skills we know nothing about.
I walked up to our chickens’ house yesterday with their usual daily apple core treat and to check for any eggs. It wasn’t a usual day. There were four hens. There should have been five. They had never before left the confines of their relatively large chicken house. I walked around the chicken house, seeking clues. A mass of feathers ten feet or so to the west lay on the damp ground. My impulse was to put some of my blood in a kettle to boil.
I assumed a neighbor’s dog had killed one of our hens. They bark constantly and enter our property presuming dominion.
My husband knows far more about farming than I do. He grew up on a farm and, like his father, became a lawyer with a heart for farming. He thought a skunk was a more likely candidate for a chicken killer than a dog. I Googled “do skunks kill chickens?” and discovered that skunks are notorious killers of chickens. Good. There are no residences close enough to our chicken hutch to make it illegal to shoot a chicken-menacing skunk.
Thanks go to Ellen Pilch of the https://15andmeowing.com blog for reminding me I hadn’t posted in a month. I appreciate you, Ellen!
A very small baby Gopher snake (center, looks like a brown cord between Effie’s and Paladin’s paws) fended its way through Effieland yesterday. Effie, a veteran of carrying a full grown Garter snake around in her mouth, and Paladin, treating the Gopher snake as a living toy, took turns carrying the snake in their mouths and playing harmlessly with it on the ground. Eventually they freed the tiny reptile, which slithered its way to the fence. Paladin laid on top of the snake. Somehow the snake made it out of Effieland.
Filed under Animals, Animals, Nature, Gardens, Cats, Effie, Effieland, Nature, Paladin, Photos, Rural life
M’lady Doe has no tea, but she has a lawn good for a brief rest.
Wild turkey Mom and kids
While having breakfast, we noticed these wild turkeys joining us as we watched them through our dining room window. It’s early for Thanksgiving, but not too early for wild turkeys making rounds. They come through our yard every year, and they are always welcome to enhance our scenery. My husband Vic dashed out with his SLR and took these photos.