December Retrospective

We woke to a light skim of snow on December 2nd. Temperatures in mid 30's all day.

Thimble-cat to vet clinic for treatment of a persistent respiratory issue.

We opted for a time-released antibiotic injection. She improved over several days but began snuffling again by Dec. 10th. Back to the clinic on the 12th and a course of oral meds prescribed which, thankfully, she consumed each morning with a dollop of 'gourmet entree.'

Off the meds on the 21st and thus far symptom free. 

Jim drove us to the clinic for the second visit. On the return trip Thimble became quite vocal so I took her out of the cat carrier and set her on my lap. She balanced with her front paws against the side window, very intent on the passing scenery. 

As we drove slowly past the pond near the top of the lane several dozen birds flew up, over the fence and settled in the adjoining field. Thimble was enthralled, and we were surprised to see that it was a flock of kildeers, unusual in such numbers and at this season.

Dec. 9

Cold but sunny, a fitting day to peg sheets on the back porch lines. 

A glowing sunrise, but as on many days this month the sunny promise was not sustained through the day.

 Jim felled a leaning beech which had the real potential of coming down on the power lines.

Prior owners of this property had a house tucked down where the land narrows into the western boundary. The house was destroyed in a [suspicious] fire several years before we bought the acreage. Nearby trees were fire-damaged, several have toppled. Jim keeps an eye on them now planning to harvest any that aren't sturdy. I liked the little beech, bent and leaning, watching each autumn for the appearance of the small beech nuts.

The stump of the tree showing the interior rot that was causing its instability.

A flock of pigeons settled beyond my car in the TSC parking lot.

We don't make a thing of Christmas shopping now that children and grandchildren are grown, however I was inspired to shop at TSC for gifts of dog and cat food. I got well acquainted with the cats at Howard's house when we fed them daily during his absence. Shannon brought 2 dogs with her when she moved to be with her Dad, making a household of four dogs. While I don't want a dog of our own again, I enjoy these 'grand-dogs' when they stop by, and it amused me to buy food for 'the friendly beasts.' I collected cat kibble and tinned food at TSC, then a quick visit to Kroger for a big bag of carrots to treat the horse, Dixie, and on to the Amish feed store at South Fork for dog food. 

That venture became a bit dicey when, burdened with the very slippery 30 lb bag of kibble, I found that two people were standing to chat, blocking the narrow walkway above the steep metal stairs that lead from the loading platform to the parking area below. I suppose I should have loudly exclaimed, 'Excuse me, please,' or 'Could I get by you?' but I kept thinking the chatty pair would realize I was trapped behind them. By the time they moved on, the sack of kibble was sliding onto my knees and I was thankful to get off the stairs without landing on my face.

This sassafras tree near the top of the lane has delighted me in all seasons. 

Early in autumn the power company sent tree trimming crews throughout the county lopping limbs that encroached on the overhead lines. I understand why these measures are taken; we've learned that power outages occur with any severe storm of wind and rain.

Still, I am mourning the mutilation of this tree, its shapely upper branches gnawed off, its symmetry spoiled. 

Throughout November a parade of four turkeys was an almost daily event. I hadn't seen them in December, but as I was making my bed on the morning of December 22, Thimble, who was 'assisting' me, suddenly leaped to the windowsill, tail twitching. There were six turkeys processing majestically down the path beneath the hickories. They turned by the little barn and paced across the open ground to disappear over the edge of the south ravine. 

A hasty photo aimed through the screened window serves to record their visit. 

On a particularly dark afternoon I rummaged through a stash of 3 1/2" squares lingering from long ago projects. On a whim I made hot dish mats for Howard and Shannon's kitchen.

Howard's birthday was the 22nd and I prepared a supper of lasagna and meatballs with a tossed salad and green beans, pineapple upside-down cake for dessert. 

As usual, I forgot to record the event with photos.

Shannon shared this one of Howard with her Siberian Husky, Layla Jane--who has now decided that 'Grampy Howard' is a soft touch.

I was ready to toss this planter of African Violets raised from cuttings several years ago. 

I refreshed the potting soil and kept them downstairs under lights and they have rewarded me with exuberant winter bloom.

Our Christmas celebration was low-key but enjoyable. Instead of a traditional feast with all the trimmings we decided on something simple. Howard brought his specialty of turkey cooked in a 'fryer,' Matt and Gina arrived laden with Waldorf salad, strawberry/chocolate chip bread, a variety of dips, chips and sauces; I provided a big pot of lentil soup, a tray with cheeses, crackers, and raw veg. Jim's cousin's daughter and her daughters drove up from Tennessee bringing a big tray of delectable fresh fruit and an offering of homemade cookies. Dessert was the two pies I made on Christmas Eve, lemon meringue and lemon icebox. 

With everything cleared away and the company dispersing just before the early dusk, I had time to make a quick loop around the meadow, the outdoor cats, Willis and Shelby, trailing behind.

December has felt a bit blurred--the weather hasn't been memorably pleasant.

My doctor ordered a three week course of double the usual dose of blood thinner I've taken since the DVT episode in 2021. There were several side effects to this--increased fatigue made me feel heavy and stupid, and I've learned the hard way that the meds must be taken in careful timing with food or the resulting stomach pain is a misery.

In a lifetime with few serious illnesses and no long term reliance on meds [prior to the DVT] I find that I'm not very patient with the things that are probably going to increasingly plague me in old age. 

My discomfort [and some worrying] hasn't been visible to others; I've bumbled through whatever needed done. I do sometimes wonder: if I resorted to bleating and feeling loudly sorry for myself, would I really appreciate any sympathy I might gain? Probably not! 

I think of January as a time to regroup, to finish projects started and to consider new ones. The long dark evenings are conducive to reading, both for pleasure and instruction. I'll be noting the incremental return of daylight, hoping for mild afternoons to finish the pruning that was curtailed by inclement weather in November and December. 

There are always the desultory tasks of keeping house, errands, unexpected demands on time and energy. In a world of uncertainties, where so many are lacking in the simplest of creature needs, I want to be mindful of my many blessings and the choices that each new day offers.