rancherwriterpoet

Poetry, musings, reflections, life

Archive for the tag “winter”

IT’S COLD OUTSIDE

“Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, so sang Johnny Mercer and Margaret Whiting.  Other artists have recorded this song over the years. It is a Christmas song written by Frank Loesser in 1944. It is an interesting song and delightful to hear.  However, the message is concerning.

I awoke this morning to a chilly 39° out here on “The Fuzzy Chicken Farm.” Wasn’t expecting that. Yesterday it was near 80° and me out there sweating away while mowing the yard. But this is what you get in North Texas. After this past week at a Physicians Cardiology Symposium, for which the “Rancherette and the RancherWriterPoet” were the subjects of the focus group, I fell far behind in my yardly duties. It is amazing how quickly grass grows. With a rear view mirror on my riding mower, I could actually witness grass growing. The evening before the vicious return of the bitter winter, it rained. The grass sucked it all up. You know what that means.

So, on this cold morning, the baby fuzzy chickens, not used to this arctic condition (well, it feels Artic-y {new word}), were conveniently clustered together for warmth, like football players huddle.

baby chicks

These very young fowl have been hatched in an incubator and have no identity with a mother chicken. The “Rancherette” fulfills that role with much enthusiasm. She is the heroine on the Farm. Occasionally, her birthing skills are required to help the little chick crack open their egg and arrive in this new world right on schedule. Peering into the incubator is like choosing a pastry from a bakery window, so many choices. It is a smorgasbord of different breeds, sizes and shapes.  The “Rancherette” tends to each and every one personally and quite surprisingly, they respond. So on this cold morning, she is certainly like a mother chicken, protecting, hovering and cajoling her flock.

Not being sled dogs from Alaska, the kennel dogs weren’t too keen about racing into the cold air; however, the geese have no fear of such weather. After being released from their nightly quarters, they made a beeline (or is that geeseline?) straight to the pond.

heading for the pond Geese 1

 

Braving the elements, honking and squealing, they wasted no time diving into the icy water as though it was the middle of summer in Puerto Rico.

I, being the bus driver and handyman on The Fuzzy Chicken Farm, spend part of my daily time watering and feeding the flocks. And on this chilly morning, I feel much like those baby chicks. When the quarterback breaks the huddle, everyone scatters to their assignments. Me, I just wanted to stay in the huddle.

Monday will be in the 80’s and the grass will have grown to new heights. mowing the grass

 I need gasoline for the mower but, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”.

I have it on good authority that the Physician’s Cardiology Symposium Report will be forthcoming this next week. Sure hope that doesn’t give me a chill.53321-Its-Cold-Outside

Stay warm, wherever you are.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR

I awoke this morning to a dastardly chill in the air. When I went to bed last night (long before the New Year arrived) it was 24° and expected to drop even further. Now my friends in the Northeast may be saying, “What’s your problem with 24°?” Well, I live in Texas where it is possible for one to experience four seasons all in the same day, depending upon which part of the state you reside. Me, I’m in North Texas and I can tell you we are in the winter season. It is cold at 24°.

So, when I did finally awake at the distasteful hour of seven a.m., the temperature had dropped to 18°. The weather prognosticators have this saying, “remember the five P’s. Protect People, Pets, Pipes, and Plants. Sounds like good advice to me.

Since out here on the Fuzzy Chicken Farm, we have a motley, hodgepodge, eclectic order of a pack of dogs, a gaggle of geese, and a flock of chickens, we must prepare them for a cold winter’s night.

Now the CEO of the Fuzzy Chicken Farm, i.e., “the Rancherette” , has some significant notions about the feathered friends. Of course these poultry participants are grouped according to their gender, (illegal) the color of their feathers, (illegal) their nationality, (illegal) and the number of toes, (I think illegal)). Because of the grouping, some (those that have crests that cover their eyes), require more attention than do others. (Probably illegal). Me, I just call them chickens and run the dogs.

The dogs are protected from the elements with indoor kennels and radiator type heaters. Earlier this week I wrapped all the outside pipes and placed the fragile plants in the garage, (except the pineapple plant, lost it to the freeze) and prepared all the coops with windbreaks so as to protect the birds from the wind chill. Inside the coop buildings are radiator type heaters that will keep the temperature above freezing. We have outdoor pens as well. These birds are of the more hardy breeds and require less maintenance. Their pens also received windbreaks.

So this morning, at 18°, the “Rancherette” and “the “Rancherwriterpoet” ventured out in the frigid temperature to soothe the birds, calm the dogs and appease the geese. Did I fail to mention the first two P’s in the order of P’s, was to Protect People? I wore long Johns (where did that name come from?), layered my clothing, put on my gloves, and set out to the task at hand, with the “Rancherette” tagging along behind me, saying, “It’s not too bad out here”. She is not native to Texas, she comes from a distant land, Memphis, I think. Tennessee not Egypt. They think differently in Tennessee.

Calming the dogs is a more difficult task. They run freely each day outside their pens and they like it when it is cold. They don’t want to come back to their inside pens, preferring to romp wildly about the back spaces. Of course, it takes them longer and I get colder. The geese are quite adapted to cold weather. They like to swim in the pond even at this cold temperature. I could not appease them this morning. They could not swim today, so they ice skated. But, I was cold. The outdoor chickens did not seem to mind the cold either. However, it was impossible for any outdoor animal to drink water this morning. I had to change out all the waterers due to frozen conditions. That made me even colder. I suppose if I had feathers or fur I might not be so cold.

The temp is expected to stay in the middle twenties until the latter part of this week and people will ask, “what’s going on at your place,” . To which I will say, “Oh, nothing much, I am cold.” To which my friends in South Florida will be agreeing with me. I can say, unequivocally, I am ready for the next season to enter North Texas. Winter has lasted long enough. In the meantime I will be lounging around in my long johns in the warmth of my recliner. It is a New Year, the sun is out this morning, and I hope each of you have a healthy, prosperous and A Happy year ahead.

The Day of the Storm

This winter of 2015/2016 has been one for the record books. I do not believe I have ever experienced the ups and downs, twists and turns and such variable temperatures as the season has brought us so far this year. I believe that you, the reader, no matter where you live, may have gone through much of the same.

I felt a little poem coming on to support my assumption. This week, in Texas, and especially North Texas where I live, has been very wet and stormy, with high winds, tornadoes and flash flooding. Thus far, it has been as described.                                         My poem illustrates only one day. I simply called it,

The Day of the Storm

The morning breaks silently
with a formidable mist in the air.
Still, the forthcoming day
will bring unenviable clamor.
lightning will flaunt the heavens
Thunder will roar across the sky.

As the morning comes to a close
the orderliness of routine
will inconveniently cease to exist.
marauding winds will subdue the calm.
Unforgiving and intolerant
The rage in the air will angrily erupt.

Midday illustrates fearfulness
Yet it is serene calmness that
Placates a few, alarms several,
Even concerns many, for
the disarray will have its day
And the rains will stalk the stillness.

The night will bring more turmoil
Darkness and storms convey fear
Anxiety will increasingly intensify
As the hours, dwindle away
We search for reassurance
That will put our minds at ease.

and the annual seasonal events
will share the tranquility with
the turbulence and the tension.
Yet the serenity of composure
Will abide in the comfort of
knowing Who is in control.

Pete Robertson
March 2016

A Bit Like Texas

I cannot remember a winter like the one of 2015/2016. Warm and dry and wet and cold and windy. Fortunately, where I live, we have not yet seen any snow, however the season is still upon us and each new day brings us another repeat of the entire process.

The cold has not been completely unbearable, the dry only lasted so long, and the wet filled the pond until the dry took over again. Yesterday, the temp was hovering around 40 degrees and the wind was blowing from the north about 20 miles an hour. I do not know the formula for determining the wind chill; I will guess it is cold! Today, the sun is shining, the temp is still around 40 this morning, however the wind is not blowing. It will make for a great day.

But, that is how it is when you live in Texas and apparently other places as well. Mark Twain once said, “If you don’t like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes.” People of numerous other states have obviously plagiarized that idiom. Thanks Mark Twain, for your input.

I have traveled to various parts of the world, thanks, in part to the United States Navy. I have visited some of the most beautiful places on this earth through my tours with Uncle Sam and I loved every one of them.

I have lived in other parts of this great United States. Everywhere I chose to live was a great place. Some had lofty mountains, some had great sandy beaches, and some had deep towering forests. I have lived in large cities and small rural communities, on major interstate highways, on dusty county roads and I loved them all.

Each place I have ever visited or lived has its own peculiar idiosyncrasies. Some are quirky, others sophisticated, many quaint or contemporary, and complicated or simple, maybe elegant or primitive.  The one thing they all have in common is the weather. Some days hot, some cold, some windy, some calm, some wet, some dry.

Sounds a bit like Texas. A place I dearly love. My condolences to those of you who must live elsewhere.

Grendel, My Hero

In my post “A Brutal Winter” Round 2”, I talked about  the “Snow Chicken” built yesterday by the “rancherette” during her morning play-time. I posted a video on FB of her actually building that “snow chicken”. There were several responses to that post. One in particular came from two-year-old John Paul Delagarza, who called her a “snow chicken lady”. I thought that was very intuitive for such a young person. It is obvious that young minds think alike.

Yesterday, all the after-school programs for the dogs was not cancelled, besides they had already decided they were not postponing any afternoon free time, anyway, so I let them loose from their pens for their usual run around. We usually let them take turns getting out to avoid any altercations between them.

Watching each one was hilarious as they discovered the “Snow Chicken” The first one to do so was our little male Cairn Terrier, Grendel. He is the Alpha dog in our kennels or at least he thinks he is. He has absolutely no regard for his limited size when compared with his Poodle counterparts. I recall once when he accidently got loose while Denali, a large male Poodle was enjoying his free time. Grendel thought he could bolster his manhood by defeating Denali. Unfortunately, I was the one defeated as Denali bit my hand, thinking it was Grendel. I am very careful, now, when I let the dogs run.

Anyway, Grendel’s first move was from about 30 feet away. Cautiously he approached the odd-looking monster with the funny-looking neck and fluffy head. He barked. He moved ever so slowly,  closer and closer. Then, another bark, a ferociously sounding bark. He raced around the creature, daring the unknown beast to make a move; even a slight twitch could set him off at any moment.

In the meantime, the other dogs in the kennels were cheering him on. Grendel was feeling his oats by now, strutting nonchalantly around this thing. He was playing it cool. He pawed the ground as he eyed this thing.  The thing just stared back, not making a move. Again, Grendel dared the creature to go away or at least react. And again, no movement. Grendel moved a bit closer, still cautious, however, more confident he could handle anything that came his way.

By this time, the Standard poodles were in full voice, egging him on. They (the poodles) have no shame, they were ready to watch a fight. Grendel unashamedly was ready to go into battle, to attack this obvious adversary if need be. But he was getting nowhere, fast. The unknown critter was silent.

And, then it happened. I’m only guessing, because I have no way of knowing what goes on in the mind of Grendel, but I believe he decided that if this thing was not going to engage him in any sort of combat, then he had only one recourse,

to pee on it. 

First one side then the other, up high and down low. In the front and at the rear. Thus, the “Snow Chicken” began to melt and Grendel had accomplished his part at protecting the back yard from monsters. Feeling ‘relieved” he sauntered back to his pen declaring himself to be the victor.

The other male Poodles were more than capable of helping Grendel when it came time for their run around. However, Grendel, my hero, had already conquered the beast of the backyard. It is nice to know our backyard is protected from “monsters” (and Snow Chickens).

Grendel the Snow Chicken Killer

 

 

 

 

 

The sun is now shining and all is well that ends well. Have a happy day.

A “Brutal” Winter, Round 2

In my previous post, A “Brutal” Winter, it seems I was a bit premature with my assessment of “Brutal”. Being a dutiful Texan, I am always subservient to the whims of tall tales. Not that there was any exaggeration with that post, however, as I said, “That was then, this is now.”

Accordingly, I am providing an update.

The winds blew, the temperature was dropping, all the way down to 33 degrees and the snow began to fall. This happened after I rose from bed this morning.

My first thought, after listening to the list of school and government closings and the urging of officials to stay home, was to call the television station and ask them to add http://www.fuzzychickens.com

Fuzzy Chickens dot com 4

 

 

 

 

 

 

and JPR Kennels to their lists of closures.JPR Kennels

For my part I was paying attention to the stay-at-home stuff.

 

 

 

 

 

Should I call, I would respectfully ask that all Silkie chickens and Standard Poodles at these locations to stay inside today. I am cancelling all their activities and rescheduling their feedings until tomorrow. The hens do not have to lay eggs today. Besides, this is the first time any of our chickens have ever seen the delicate white stuff. They would be quite hesitant to venture out into this stuff, anyway. The hens could lay their eggs in the snow and I would be unable to find them. They have a tendency to drop their eggs wherever they happen to be at that particular time. Silkies are funny that way.

Now the dogs, on the other hand, consider this white stuff to be old hat. But for the caretaker, not so much. So they can just postpone their sniffing wherewithal until tomorrow. Everyone may as well reschedule their morning events. They can all just have the day off. I am not offended that they think otherwise.

After my suggestion about calling the TV station, the “rancherette” decided, for whatever unnerving reason, to build a “snow chicken” in the backyard. The local television station is always asking for viewers to send in their pictures. She said this would be a great picture for TV and she could put her website in the snow as well. What a great marketing tool, she said. And it would be fun, she said. I can put it on Facebook, she said. And it is very cold, I said.

They say that when one reaches a certain age, one has a tendency to revert back to their childhood. I can attest to that.

Being the artist, she is, and with her blank “canvas” before her, like a “phoenix” rising from the snow, a creature comes forth with a funny little beak, a fluffy head and a cedar bough for a tail. It looks just like a chicken. A Silkie chicken! Fuzzy 7

 

 

 

 

 

What with the temperature hovering near freezing, my solution would have been to just set one of the chickens out in the snow and wait a few minutes. Voila, instant “Snow Chicken”.  That did not go over very well.

nice chicken

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That was this morning, now it is afternoon. The sun is beginning to come out, the temperature is rising and the snow is melting. The ‘snow chicken” is shrinking. The day is just about gone. The dogs and chickens did not pay any attention to the cancellations anyway. I should have known better. It is too late to call the station back and remove my closures from their lists. And I was pretty sure we were in for a blizzard. Just shows you how much I know about Texas weather.

With the temperature the way it is, I have a hankering for a bowl of chicken and dumplings or chicken noodle soup. That would really hit the spot. Chicken sounds good about now.

Stay Warm!

A “Brutal” Winter

So, it has been a few days since my last post. Been busy around this “ranch”. Had new pens to build for the “rancherette’s chickens and what with the weather being nice, I just could not bear to sit myself down inside.
I decided to close in the carport where I keep my mowers. Much of my lawn equipment is currently stored in the garage and we house our brooder pens there as well. Forget about parking a car inside, that will never happen.

New eggs arrived from Oregon and Georgia last week so we need the covered room outside for all my “stuff”. This will give us a bit more room for the brooder chicks when they hatch.
I made a trip to the “big box” lumber center to pick up a load of material for the carport project. You will notice that I mentioned earlier the weather was nice, in the mid sixties near seventy degrees.
I managed to lay the block foundation for the wall on the north side and frame the wall with high hopes of completing the job by early next week.

Well, that was then and this is now.

The temperature has plummeted all the way down to 28 degrees, expecting to hit 24 by Tuesday morning. The wind chill hovers near 18 degrees. We have almost a half inch of sleet that has practically covered the back yard and now it is snowing a bit. I have on two layers of clothing with a third on standby for when I venture outside. The furnace is working overtime, (not to mention the electric meter). And did I mention that it is very difficult to type this article wearing insulated gloves?

Each day, we let the kennel dogs out for their morning constitutional. Have you ever seen dogs tiptoe? Most took one look outside their pens and made a beeline back inside. I can’t know for sure what they were thinking but I’m guessing  the question they were asking me is, “What were you thinking? I’m NOT leaving the comfortable warmth of my inside pen!” Yeah, well, guess what dogs, I’m not rushing out for your afternoon pleasure either.

Before storm

Kennels

After Storm

Backyard kennels

This kind of weather keeps them inside on days like today. Their heaters keep them at a constant 60 degrees. Aah, such is a dog’s life. I noticed this morning a coyote in the pasture across the road and he was high tailing it towards the woods. He apparently does not like this weather either.

However, there are some animals who enjoy a cold snap. Such as the Silkie chickens. At least the four adults do. They thrive on the rush of adrenaline. However, there are some young birds we call “juvies” (short for juveniles) who are not as well versed as the adults. They have a heat lamp and readily stay near the warmth. These are the residents of the “Chicken Condo”.

Chicken Condos

On the hill, over looking the pond, we have a “High Rise” where eleven adolescents, four “juvies”, one blind hen, one broody hen and one smashing rooster reside. There temperature is also at 60 degrees. The only problem I see, is the hens are not laying eggs.Must be too cold.

 

High Rise

Yet, all the animals are in their comfort zone, including the geese.

Snow coverd geese

I, on the other hand, am dismayed at this weather.
But I am not too worried. By Thursday, the temperature will be back in the low to middle sixties, maybe even seventy, I will be back, hammer in hand, working on my carport, the dogs will be barking to be let out, the chickens will be laying eggs again and winter in North Texas will be back to what we call normal.

I realize my friends in New York and Atlanta and other places with “real” winters will scoff at my account of our latest winter barrage, nevertheless..,

Hmmmmm, Are those snow clouds I see on the horizon?

I Feel a Little Poem Coming On

I thought I would post my last entry for the year, 2014, with a poem. I ask this question; What is it about the seasonal changes that seem to affect our psyche? I do not know, maybe you do.
The title of this poem has absolutely nothing to do with the contents; I simply liked the wording. So, with apologies to the gospel group “Three Bridges”, I borrowed the title from their song, “I Feel A Little Song Coming On.
Anyway,

I Feel a Little Poem Coming On

On this cold and gloomy morning,
The last few days of the year,
I stand gazing pensively,
from my front door across the pasture.
I see a few cows milling about,
Seemingly, with nothing on their mind
except eating the grass beneath their feet.

Brown grass withering amid patches of green
that sprang up after the fire,
like emeralds leaping from a lifeless painting.
Four hedge apples remain on the leafless branches
of the grand old Bois D’ Arc tree.
Three clustered together, one hanging alone, pitifully.
It is a lonely tree, standing dejected, sadly.

In the distance, the waters of a pond
Shimmer languidly from the wind.
Oblivious to its shrinking circumference
Unaware it is on the brink of disaster.
The drought has taken its toll.
Passing from summer to autumn to winter,
leaving spring far behind.

Outside my window a handful of Cardinals
flutter about pilfering from one another
any tidbit or crumb they find on the ground.
A murder of crows sit atop the Bois D’ Arc tree,
Omnivorous creatures, their eyes darting back and forth.
A Red Tail Hawk soars in the sunless currents above,
while his keen eyesight focuses sharply below.

The creatures of the insect world
Have long since relented to hereditary instincts
It is the changing of the guard.
As I stand before my window of opportunity
I witness the inevitable transformation
That once more rises to the forefront of life
And I am in awe.

Pete Robertson
© December 2014

To_Do or not To-do,

It is December 27, 2014. This may be the last time I write that date, for 2015 is standing around the back corner of the garage on the north side just waiting to pounce onto the scene. The temperature is about 40 degrees and the prevailing north wind is whirling about, at 30+ miles per hour, thereby giving us a wind chill of 20+ degrees. The pond lost much of its water in the summer due to the drought however, what remains has white caps. I realize that some live in much colder places, but this is Texas and we do things a bit differently. All seven Standard Poodles are reclining inside their warm kennel buildings. The Silkie Chickens, on the other hand, are wandering about outside their pens, scratching and pecking as if it were 80 degrees. But what do they know? Pea-brained fowl, such as they are. So, that part of 2014 I am anxious to leave behind.

As 2015 approaches, everyone should be thinking about the coming year and what they hope to accomplish. If that means a resolution list, then for those of you who do such a thing, now is the time. Me, I never make a resolution list. Why make such a list only to fail at keeping even the hint of whatever you thought needed to be on such a list in the first place. But I leave that up to you.

However, I did make a to-do list. Or, should I say, the list is made for me. For the novice, or unmarried, a to-do list is not the same as a resolution list. A to-do list is simply a plan of action conceived by a superior authority, while a resolution list is make-believe stuff. Such as, “I probably should resolve to cut back on my sugar”, but I am not putting that on any such list. The doctor does it for me.

This past year, I had so many things on my to-do list that I lost count way back in February. I did remember Valentine’s Day. That bought me a little time. But not to fret, I will eventually catch up.

I have also noticed that if something on the to-do list is not accomplished for that particular year, it doesn’t just disappear, it reappears onto the next year’s list. I do not think that is fair. Just because a certain someone has such an excellent memory does not mean that everyone does. If for some reason, (a really, good reason and not just an excuse) something cannot be completed,  then all should be forgiven, don’t you think. Fair is fair.

I foresee with some certainty, that anything to do with Silkie Chickens will be on that to-do list for 2015. Or, some type of remodel, or any number of ways to keep me current and up-to-date with the latest contraption that we need around our place.  The “rancherette” is very proficient at discovering new things for us “to-do” together.

I look forward to learning what lies in store for me on the new to-do list, as long as it does not contain any reference to my eating habits. I can’t wait, I am so excited.

In the meantime, I may give in and make one resolution for 2015. I may resolve to read the to-do list in its entirety, this year. If I do, then that’s progress. You, on the other hand, should pay attention to whatever list you come across.

Christmas Morning

It is Christmas Morning. The agonizing wait is over. The house has a different air about it. Yesterday, there was so much anticipation and this morning that anticipation has been replaced with an attitude of joy. Smiling faces with tussled hair and sleepy eyes that are just now starting to focus, grip the morning with varying squeals of delight.

The first thing I noticed this morning was a white residue in the milk glass beside the empty cookie plate. Something or someone removed those contents during the night. Then I saw the stockings full to the brim, bulging with stuff inside. There were candy canes sticking out over the edge of each. And the Christmas Tree was loaded with wrapped gifts that were not there yesterday. Santa has come and gone. He really knows how to impress a person.

So breakfast will have to wait. There are gifts to be opened and those stockings so full to the brim, well, they must be pulled off the shelf and emptied on the floor. That is the best way to see what is in there. But I must be careful, Santa has been known to put breakable stuff in those stockings. Fortunately, this morning, that was not the case.

I peered into my stocking to see a variety of male toiletries, which I might add, I love, then a wonderful box of chocolate covered Cherries, really my favorite, and a Christmas tradition in my house for many years. I also got a couple of toothpaste Squeeze-It devices. These are designed to get every bit of the toothpaste from the tube before you throw it away. That is ingenious. Wish I had thought of that. Sure beats pushing and squeezing the tube in the middle. I bet the inventor of that device celebrates Christmas in a big way.

I opened a wrapped gift next. The tag said it was from Santa. I think this Santa looks a lot like my wife. I don’t know how Santa knew I needed a new pair of pajamas. I will wear them tonight. Maybe that will impress “someone”. Santa outdid himself this year.

I must admit, it is fun to open gifts. But my enjoyment really comes from watching the “Rancherette” open her stocking and gifts. Of course, in her case, Santa knows what she likes and is happy to contribute to her desires.

I am undecided as to which gift she likes the most. I can tell you, she adores her Silkie chicken calendar. And then, Santa filled her stocking with traditional stuff.  She opened the stocking to discover an apple, an orange, candy canes, nuts, (assorted, of course), and chocolate candy, Ghirardelli’s chocolate candy! Another gift she received was a sweet-smelling bottle of Burberry perfume. I helped Santa think of that.

However, sometimes, a gift goes awry. Such is the case with the Silkie Chicken Clock. It does not work and must be returned. I don’t think Santa takes return gifts even if he did not get it right. It probably is the problem of one of his suppliers. I will locate the business address of that firm and do the return for him. I will inform Santa of that particular supplier so that he doesn’t use them next year.

I noticed after I took a shower this morning that Santa forgot one of the items on my wish list. This is the umpteenth time he has forgotten. Every year, I ask for a new birthday suit and every year he forgets. I’m telling you, the birthday suit I have now is wrinkled and really beginning to wear out. Oh, well, I tend to be somewhat of a pack rat and keep everything much longer than it was designed to be kept. At least, this one still works for me, but, I’ll keep putting that wish on my Christmas list.

But I don’t despair, it is still a wonderful Christmas, the “rancher” and the “rancherette” sharing with each other. We share gifts with each other during the course of the year, but it seems that Christmas brings out the true meaning of giving, at least for me. I realize that others do not share the same Christmas celebrations that we as Christians do. For those who do not, I sincerely hope you find something (or someone) in your life to celebrate and when you do, make it special to the one you love. If it happens at this particular time of year, then, that’s just icing on the cake.

Well, it is time to begin the overindulging. I helped the “rancherette” in the kitchen by chopping onions and celery. That will pay off in the form of dressing later today. I love dressing, too. The “rancherette” is an expert at discussing with Santa what gifts to bring me, but she is also an expert at cooking and baking.. But in the meantime, I think I will start with the chocolate covered cherries. That is a tradition each year as well

I hope each of you have a very Merry Christmas.

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