The gift of another day

An aspect of our cross country travels that has continued to be a gift here at home

 is seeing each new morning just as though we were on the road.

Stepping out into the backyard to find a new spider's web on the bird house

and to really look at the horse skull, to see how much calcium those squirrels have chewed off in just a few months

We put up my Christmas houses, but Leslie added this funky old light I found at a garage sale years ago.  She saw that it reminded her of the Aurora Borealis, and all agree it's quite brilliant!

Our pond in the early morning light

With koi swimming in the branches and blue sky

The inscrutable Miss Anna, ever watchful.

And even more watchful, our early morning visitor:  a Cooper's Hawk

We were eating breakfast, and there he was, waiting for his breakfast.  '

He had his eyes on our neighbor's chickens.  

The next morning they were still clucking, so he was out of luck, it seems.  

This time, anyway.

Among many of the things I love about California are the trees.

                         Redwoods and oaks grow next to palm trees.  It's so random!

There were lots of hours in the day, and I can't say exactly what we did during the day.  But it was a very good day.  

And ended with the walk to the park with the dogs, and just a beautiful a sunset in our own neighborhood as we'd seen in Michigan and Vermont and Texas. No ancient pictographs, but some graffiti.   And no moose or alligators, but that's really ok.

There is a kind of bliss for me in this appreciation of random moments, even in every day life. 

 Especially in every day life.

                       

This day was a great gift!                 RJ

“Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

Heeeeeerrrrrrreeeeeeee's Mikey!

Along the way around the country, Leslie and I each fell in love with a few other dogs, and acknowledged each time it would be unfulfilled love, and regretful goodbyes, 'for the best'.....
Little Mo in Pennsylvania, the thankfully one-headed puppy of questionable parentage in North Carolina, Toby in Arkansas (who had a fine home and life already, thank you very much, but I dreamed, nonetheless, of Anna and Toby romping their way through life in San Jose. )  Anna continued to revel in her life as 'the only dog', with our undivided attention and treat bags.

Till this week.

And here's the newest member of our family:   MIKEY!
Leslie found this ad on Petfinders:
http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/21719103

We went, we saw, he conquered!  Conquered us, with cuteness, that is.

Here's the story:  Mikey began his life in Idaho four years ago, and sadly his owner recently died.
The  owner's  daughter in Auburn, CA couldn't care for him, so she placed him in a foster home
with the group in Santa Rosa, and they posted the ad.

The beginning was tentative.  Anna was a bit cranky, but she adjusted.

He has good 'ground manners', easy to bathe, not a barker.  

And what a cuddler he is!

In the meantime, tasks still had to be done.  We hung the Christmas lights outside one afternoon, and from inside we heard a crash.  I feared some argument between the dogs.  No, it was the crash and breaking of the glass butter dish from the counter.  Anna did her best to look innocent, but the butter on her nose gave her away!

Leslie, the Dog Whisperer of Hudson Drive.  The magic is in the liver treats!

Mikey went off for an official grooming, and came back a new man!

We could not take the chance to love him, though, till Trish the dog trainer/behaviorist

came over to assist with the introduction to the cats.

Let's just say, the cats still rule, no question, paws down.  

George still sleeps wherever he wants, and everyone else adapts.

Grace can look and sound like a prehistoric saber-tooth cat.

Mikey does not argue.  He walks away.  Carefully.

There is peace again in our home, after just seven days.

Ok, admit it, isn't he ADORABLE?!

It's official.

Mikey's ours!

He's a keeper!

Lucky us.

RJ

75 degrees of separation

The morning we left Fairbanks it was -20 degrees.  

On our arrival in San Jose, it was 55 degrees above zero.  

We were once again back in autumn, back in our lovely San Jose life.

It's quite different. 

 No more blown tires, fire ants, hair dryer heater systems, bald eagles, far fewer Norwegians and Inuits.  The "Land O' Lakes" is only the butter in the dish on the kitchen counter.

No $2.89 gasoline.

.  No sand burrs, wild ponies, piney woods, pictographs, pronghorns, or  jack rabbits.

I only need to wear one layer of polypro under my exercise clothes, and only thin gloves, not those beaver mittens I wore while mushing the dogs.  The bathroom's indoors.  

It's an interesting transition.

But I've been baking.

The bowl is from North Carolina.

The sourdough starter from Alaska.

The stone ground corn meal from the Cullen Baker Country Fair in Cass County, TX

And the cast iron pan is from the estate sale of Dorothy Moreno, my first supervisor at O'Connor.  She was an  'old school' Italian Catholic  no nonsense kind of RN.  I love using her pan.

And I must say, the sourdough cornbread was quite good!

As were the sourdough pancakes!  The maple syrup is from Stowe, Vermont.

And the sourdough oatmeal muffins!  Delicious, as evidenced by half of them being eaten fairly quickly.  After all, the oatmeal makes them healthy, right?

It's possible I've baked more in two weeks than in two years.

No, probable.

The sourdough still bubbles away, waiting for the next recipe.

Along with the baking, we're doing furniture restoring:  

an old table that belonged to Art's mother Pat, and now belongs to Bryan and Marlena.

  Some 0000 steel wool and Restore-A-Finish

and some old-fashioned elbow grease

and it's quite lovely again!

Then there's the lovely Leslie baking her mom's Christmas cookies, with smiling Santa faces

 It's a huge project!

Still in process.

And quilting for the Linus project going on...............

No problem keeping busy.

And I leave you tonight with this photo of sweet innocent George.  Just look at that face, and the fetching way he has as he relaxes.........He has no problem relaxing.

and says, 

"Who me?  

I don't know what you're talking about. 

 I have no idea who ate all that cat food from the new bag. 

 It must have been Anna.  That's it.  It was Anna. 

 I was framed!"

Life is good, eh?

RJ

The Beat Goes On........

So.  We're home.
I started on an inhaler on Day 9 of the URI I caught on the plane to Fairbanks.
Antibiotics on Day 11.  Much better now.
Leslie is sick, but has lungs of sturdier stock.
 Sure do wish we had gotten our flu shots in Galveston when we had the chance!

That's water under the proverbial bridge, eh?

To blog, or not to blog?

 If you read it, we will blog.

                                                        Home.
                         And the four-leggeds are settling in to having us back.
The Divine Miss Grace lost a pound while we were gone!  Thank you, Marlena and Bryan.

And they are settling in to being together...........

George took up with Anna as though she had not been gone for three months.

And she is more tolerant than ever of him.  

We do keep an eye on them.  But healthy signs show, like they sniff each others bottoms, ( aren't you glad to know that!) and Anna waits patiently while the cats eat their wet food, only moving in for her final licks of the bowls when they've gone to the garage for the second course, of kibble.

We had high winds the other night, and many trees dropped their entire autumn color display in one fell swoop.  Like our neighbor's ginko tree across the street.  

Ok, this next part is serious. 

 I'm going to cook stuff.

I bought sourdough starter (it comes dried on the spoon, purchased in Alaska).

The pottery bowl is from that day in North Carolina on the Pottery Highway, from Daniel, the guy with the dogs, puppy, goat, and cat.  

I'll let you know how it goes.

The hot tub is a welcome pleasure, whether at dawn, or after a day's work here, to relax into the evening.

And I'd like you to meet our worms.  Red worms.  Who make compost out of garbage.

This is their worm home, three tiers, and a place at the bottom for collecting worm water, great for fertilizing plants.

They are thriving, reproducing, and making beautiful soil!

Here are a couple of the youngest.  

Having worms is ordinarily not a good thing, but these worms are good to have!

So, no mountains, near disasters on car or trailer, no border patrol, or funny signs.

Just life at home.

It's a good thing.

Being ordinary.

In gratitude.       

RJ