First item of business today is an update on the heathen cats. I've not been able to catch Scout still enough to get a new photo, but Boo was more cooperative. They are scheduled to go in for their "fixes" on Tuesday, which I hope will cause an attitude adjustment, but I'm not holding my breath. They've been intrigued by all this ice business, but are content to nap the day away on their kitty tower until it's all over.
My brilliant idea for a temporary greenhouse was working until late yesterday. It's still working, but is crippled. The cupola on the arbor collapsed under the weight of ice and it's too cold for me to figure out how to cure the problem. I peeked inside to be sure the plants were not crushed, but I've decided to let it be until all this cold and ice is over.
The other arbor is holding its own. So far.
The red-tipped photina in the front yard is bowed over with ice and the water hose that I decided to leave out may never recover.
While I am enjoying the time off, I'm about ready for things to dry up already. I still haven't finished putting away Christmas stuff because it's been too cold to work in the garage. I still have several boxes out there that need to be taken to the thrift store. Until it warms up I'm stuck with extra clutter.
Finally, a story that I haven't thought about for years and can't say why it suddenly sprang to mind. Except that I got to wondering how the deer are faring through all this cold and ice.
Back when I was about 5 years old and we were living in San Gabriel, we were headed out to the house of one of our church members for dinner. This was out in the country back then and most of the roads were your basic washboard gravel. Along the way, a young deer sprang out in front of the car and the collision knocked him unconscious. Thanks to the rough road, I guess our speed was slow enough to keep from doing him any serious damage.
The deer was young - not a fawn, but definitely a youngster. My parents pondered the situation and decided that they would carry him along to our destination. The children of the family we were to visit had raised other young strays and would probably welcome the chance to rehabilitate a deer. (I believe this may have been the same family that took on a nest of orphaned baby skunks, one of which we adopted. But that's another story.)
So my mother moved into the back seat with me and my father loaded the unconscious deer into the front seat. Just about the time he had him in the car and was getting ready to close the doors and get on our way, the deer woke up. Totally disoriented, he immediately panicked and started looking for an escape route. This involved jumping over the seat into the back with me (mother was still outside the car at that point), then jumping back over into the front seat and out the door. And poof, he was gone into the night.
Sometimes you get proof that the Lord protects fools and little children. My parents, both of whom grew up in the country, should have had better sense than to try such a stunt. But having come from a long line of folks who revere animals, it was probably inevitable that they would try to rescue an injured one, even though it was wild. I would probably have done the same thing when I was their age (about 27 years). So the Lord protected two fools. And then, during the mad scramble to find an exit, the deer could have done me serious damage with a misplaced hoof. So the Lord protected a child. I don't think we even sustained any damage to the car.
I will always be thankful that my early years gave me exposure to such things. I may not have been a true country child, like my aunts and uncles, but I had some unique experiences because my father took on small churches in little towns bordering the country and my grandparents lived on a real farm where I visited regularly. I got to milk a cow, churn butter, watch a real cream separator at work, walk through fields of watermelons and peanuts, adopt a skunk, and share a ride with a deer. Not everybody can say that.