Fun and Frolic!

The squirrel and I are feuding.

We have three bird feeders hanging from the pergola / gazebo structure on our back deck. One holds suet in a little cage; another has a little bowl for fruit jelly (for orioles and wasps) or sugar-syrup (for hummingbirds); and the third is a regular bird-feeder that looks like a miniature barn. For months we've been entertained by the huge variety of birds that come down out of the trees to share in this bounty; we have binoculars and a bird-watching book so that we can figure out what varieties inhabit our neighborhood. We've seen robins, wrens, chickadees, blue jays, cardinals, finches, grosbeaks, juncos, titmice, and swallows, but what we really enjoy are the woodpeckers because they're not a bird we've seen a lot of around here. Kind of like seeing a bald eagle back in Washington; there were a pair living near Lake Stevens we used to see every once in a while, and it was always a thrill. Now that we've been stocking the bird feeders all winter, the woodpeckers make a daily appearance and we've gotten used to seeing them. They really love the suet cakes. The male is large with a red head, and every time he lands on the suet feeder, it swings and sways; his mate (whom we call Beaky) has an oddly curved-up beak which makes it somewhat difficult for her to get to the food, but she makes do by twisting her head all around to get it past the cage.

There are also three or four squirrels living in the green belt behind our house but up til now they haven't done much more than scavenge the ground underneath the feeders for loose seeds and nuts. 

Lately one of them has decided to be a little bit bolder.

A suet cake generally last a couple of weeks; I normally replace it when the remnant has gotten almost small enough to fall out between the bars. I had noticed mid-week that it was getting close to replacement time, so was planning on changing it out on Saturday. But on Friday, we found that the largest of the squirrels (as yet unnamed) had figured out how to open the suet feeder all by himself, and stolen the remaining cake. In fact, Adam and I happened to be glancing out the kitchen window right after the event and saw him sitting on the top rail of the deck, greedily devouring the whole thing. In response, we re-stocked the suet cage and I tied  an extra piece of strong wire around the little door of the cage it so it could not be opened by any small animal. And waited. Sure enough, in another hour or so, he came sauntering down from the tree, determined to get some of this new treat we'd just provided.

He failed. And he was angry. Oh, you should've seen the glare he gave us from his little spot on the railing! He was staring right at us through the sliding glass door, his tail twitching angrily, looking like he wanted to come right into the house and give us the what-for. We couldn't help laughing.

I know we shouldn't have laughed, but we were so cocky and self-assured that we had defeated the thieving rodent. We should've guessed that he had more tricks up his sleeve! 

This afternoon, we happened to be watching the birds again and the pesky squirrel appeared again, looking rather sure of himself. We continued to watch as he climbed upon the steel rod that holds the big feeder out away from the deck -- specifically to prevent the squirrels and chipmunks from access -- and stretched his lithe little body all the way across until his little paws just reached the perch where the birds normally sit. And he pulled and pulled on that little perch because he had figured out that it was the bar that opened the floodgate of birdseed and sent it cascading into the tray, and the tray was tipped just enough to send those seeds into his waiting mouth.

And then he turned around and looked at us with a triumphant grin (or was it a sneer?) before dashing down to the ground to snatch up the rest of his haul before all the other squirrels (or birds) figured out what was going on.

My blood pressure immediately shot up. I wasn't going to let that silly squirrel steal from the birds! So I walked right out on the deck and turned the feeder around so that there was no way for him to trip the bar, no matter how far out he stretched. And I knew there was no way he could maintain any kind of grip on the slick, steel surface of the feeder in order to perch on it himself.

Sure enough, another hour later he was back for more. But he had not counted on my deviltry, and the reversal took him by surprise. He sat for a few minutes staring at the feeder as if trying to figure out why it had suddenly altered its appearance, and then he started crawling across the steel rod as he had done before, reaching, stretching, trying to gain purchase -- but to no avail. After several vain attempts, he gave up. And then ... he climbed up to the top of the gazebo, turned around, and stared at me with the most menacing glare, and this time his tail was perfectly still. I could feel his seething frustration.

He's plotting his revenge. I don't know what it is, or when it will be, but I know it's coming. So now when I step out onto the back deck to refill the bird feeders, I'm going to be watching my back ... and the trees. He's always watching from the trees.

==

In other news, we discovered this morning that our furnace had stopped working at some point during the night. The house was still relatively warm (63 degrees) but the thermostat was set to 67 and the furnace did not kick on. I went down to the furnace room to investigate, but found nothing amiss. I checked the filter and it was a little bit dirty, but nothing serious. I replaced it anyway, just because. Mary had already checked the breaker, which had not tripped. So then I opened the furnace cover door and stared at the innards for a while, looking for anything obvious. There was none. So I flicked the switch on the wall that provides power to the furnace, off and then back on again. And it started right up.

I stared at it for quite a while, waiting for it to suddenly kick off. I read the instructions on the cover door panel to see if there was anything helpful. It mentioned that the furnace would automatically shut off if the interior furnace section got too hot, but I had no way of checking that. So I just waited. And stared at the little blue flame that was lighting up the glass panel inside. The fan was turning. The exhaust was exhausting. Everything looked normal.

After a while, I went back upstairs and sat listening to the furnace while it cycled through a few times, as it does. And throughout the rest of the day, I listened to it turning off and on again, acting as normal as it had ever been. It never had a problem turning back on. The temperature remained as constant as the setting on the thermometer.

I'm thinking the house is haunted. Or perhaps the squirrel has figured out a way to prank us. Either way, it's a bit disturbing. I'm going to have to keep watch on this thing now. 

Feeling Better. Maybe.

Eating has become a stressful thing nowadays, owing to the amount of pain involved.

It started out a week ago as a throat infection of some kind, where my ear canals and throat were on fire and I was forced to consume massive quantities of cough drops and cough syrups and analgesics just to make it through the day, with my throat throbbing and my head pounding; and then there were the antacids I was dropping like candy in a vain attempt to soothe the fire-on-top-of-fire which was my esophagus. I'm thinking they had something to do with it as well.

On Wednesday night, there was this weird lump in my throat as though something was stuck in it and I just couldn't swallow it. I figured it might be something I was allergic to, so I took some antihistamines and went to bed.

On Thursday morning, the lump was not quite as large but there was a burning down deep so I took some of the omaprezole which is supposed to relieve the acid reflux which has been the bane of my existence for over a decade. But instead of relieving the pain, it created even more by apparently burning the top of my tongue to the point that it felt like razor blades were slicing it into pieces. And it looked really gross in the mirror, like someone had poured acid on it. Like it was melting. With big lumps in the back.

I wish I'd gotten a picture of it. But it would've given me nightmares. Naturally, I called Dr Google who told me it was probably an allergic reaction to something. But what? Cough drops? Cough meds? Citric acid? Not sure. But whatever it was, it made the act of eating a very painful thing.

Everything tastes like -- and feels like -- razor blades.

That night we went to see Shadowlands at a local theater. The acting was adequate for local theater. The principals playing C. S. Lewis and Joy Gresham  did quite well and had obviously done quite a bit of performing in amateur productions. It also helped that they were married, I suppose.

On Friday, I still wasn't feeling quite up to par so I begged off our scheduled D&D adventure and tried to figure out some way to eat without screaming. What is something that doesn't have any acide in it? How do you soothe a burned tongue? I was thinking maybe something dairy-related, so tried yogurt and granola, but that was just about the limit.

Tonight wasn't too bad -- the razor blades are still there, just a tad bit more bearable. We had a nice simple fish-and-chips dinner with apple slices, and then had tea and scones at our weekly Torah study.

I'm hoping tomorrow is back to normal. 

Warming Up....?

The temperature crawled slowly up from -4 F (at 6 am this morning) all the way to 20 F by 10 pm tonight. Will this be the coldest week in all of winter?

We can only hope.

School has been closed since Monday. We've been goofing off in the house all week, getting a few chores done and eating up all our food supplies.

I've been sick since Friday evening, sucking down medicines for cough and headache. Waking up every morning with a sore throat and a lengthy list of Things To Do that just keeps getting longer as I lack the energy to get around to them all.

Luckily for me, there's YouTube, the Balmy of the Slovenly Guilty. Oooh, look! Another episode of my favorite channel, Dry Bar! There's another twenty minutes of my life gone... but at least it was funny.

If this keeps up, those of us who rely on automobiles for our daily commute might have the entire week as "extra" holiday time -- although we'll surely pay for it when spring rolls around and there are still lessons to be taught and students to annoy.

For those of us on the Remote Employment plan, it's just another week asleep at the wheel, lost in the nether regions of the internet, drifting through Time and Space trying to remember which Zone we're in so we don't accidentally miss that 11 o'clock [12 o'clock? 1 o'clock? 2 o'clock?] meeting we're supposed to be hosting.

But the Thermal Prognisticators are predicting that the roads will be clear enough to drive tomorrow, the winds will be slow enough to avoid frostbite on the faces of the children as they walk to school, and everything will be Back To Normal.

It's so pretty outside. It's too bad I'll be up and out the door at 5 am to shovel it so everyone else can get out of the driveway while I stay warm and dry snuggled up next to my dozen-or-so computers in my office.

No one will notice if I drift off now and then to dream of electric sheep... 

Cold

This is supposed to be the coldest day of the winter. Schools are closing simply on the projected temperatures (in combination with wind chill adjustments). Roads are a complete mess. And there are plenty of people out there who still haven't learned how to drive in these precarious conditions. Best for everyone to stay off the roads, if you ask me.

Cheryl and Mary have been able to stay off the roads (mostly) and safely at home (mostly) these last couple of days, and they are off tomorrow as well, but this is not to say that they have been sitting around the house relaxing. This is not something I would say at all. Because that would be the end of me! They are busy, busy, busy. Accomplishing things. Making things. Doing things. While I sit around complaining about my sore throat and my sore head and my sore back (from shoveling snow) and my sore fingers (from not wearing the right gloves when shoveling snow) and my sore lungs (from breathing subzero air); and complaining about the snow piling up on the cars outside and the cold air piling up in the garage and the tasks piling up in my To-Do list at work because I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing.

But there is hope for the future. Tomorrow the temperature is supposed to slowly climb back up to a balmy 19⁰ F (-7⁰ C) and we'll finally be able to go outside for longer than fifteen minutes without encountering frostbite.

And maybe, just maybe, we'll crawl back up to 31⁰ F (-0.5⁰ C) by Saturday night!

Meanwhile, Adam and Mary joined us for Taco Tuesday dinner, and Mary provided home-made donuts. That's how we survive these cold Michigan winter evenings.

In-between the Pain

Eating is turning into a horrible experience these last few days; my throat is inflamed to the point that my ears hurt, and every time I put something into my mouth, it feels like I'm eating razor blades. I'm taking analgesics every four hours just to mute the pain enough to tolerate the cough drops (I'm not coughing) and the hot tea (which feels about as bad as you might expect from pouring molten lava against the back of your throat).

But I'm used to pain. I grew up with nearly constant pain -- every day -- to the point that ordinary cuts and scrapes went unnoticed (most of them 'earned' in the shop while carrying splintery boards around or using the sandpaper incorrectly or accidentally drilling into my finger or bumping into low-lying stacks of boards with very sharp edges). As I've mentioned to people polite enough (or innocent enough) to ask, there are very few days in my life where I can remember not waking up with a headache. This is (I believe) an inheritance from my mother, who suffered from occasional migraines. I haven't had very many real migraines -- the ones that leave you crying into your pillow in a darkened room, feeling nauseated and wishing for an early death -- but the alternative, having a near-migraine every day for most of your life, is not much better.

In comparison, a few days of throat/ear pain is a joke, not even worth complaining about. But I'm not writing this to prompt sympathy; I'm writing this so that my children and my children's children, should they ever find themselves in this situation, know that they are not alone, that others have suffered in the same way, for generations before, and others will suffer in the future. So we just bear with it and try to keep going. Because everyone in my family (except me) can cook. And no amount of pain will keep me away from that delicious food.

Meanwhile, the weather has turned too cold to do anything out in the garage, although I've got some carpentry projects to work on, and some cars crying for attention. I've got a heater out in the wood shop, but the best it can do is about 50⁰ F (10⁰ C) -- and that's still a bit chilly for my fingertips.

I started working on some paper towel holders for Christmas presents, but they still aren't finished because there were so many other priorities that were demanding attention back in December. So far, I've cut the dowels and created the mounting plates, but it'll be awhile before I can get back in and do the finish work.

As for the cars: (1) The Sonata still isn't warming up to operating temperature even though I replaced the thermostat, so I'm going to have to drain the radiator & engine of coolant (again!) and pull it to see if I installed it wrong, or if it is defective; and (2) The Corolla front door locks (which finally arrived last week) need to be replaced so they won't freeze up anymore. Previously, it was impossible to open the driver-side door on the Corolla if the temperature was below 25⁰ F (-3⁰ C) because the mechanism would jam up (and it took quite a while to get the passenger door open, but first the key had to be cycled back-and-forth several times). Then once the door was open, it wouldn't shut until the car had been warmed up for ten minutes or so. And sitting out in the driveway for ten minutes waiting for the door to warm up enough to shut it is just about enough to drive you crazy. Which is why Mary and I decided to use the bungee cord so we could get to church on time back in the day (we were teaching Sunday school so always showed up about half an hour early in order to set up), and we tied the door handle to the center console (sometimes both doors) and drove ten minutes down the road to church, and -- sure enough -- by the time we got there, the doors would shut just fine.

Today the temperature got down to 6⁰ F (-14⁰ C). Tomorrow they're predicting it'll be pretty much the same. On Wednesday, it might warm up to 24⁰ F (-8⁰ C). I'm thinking perhaps even those new locks will be struggling.

Behind Before We Even Started

We're past the middle of January already, and we're quite behind schedule.

Last month, we received a number of wonderful seasonal cards and letters from friends and family. They were all greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, we have not been able to return the favor. I had purchased a box of Christmas cards way back in December (late, as usual) with the intent of writing a Year-End-Summary letter to send out to everyone, along with a picture of our family, but there were two things that got in the way: (1) It was a lousy year which made my summary letter read like a horribly depressing dirge, and (2) we never got around to taking a family picture during Thanksgiving when we were all (mostly) together.

Cheryl managed to write up a very nice summary letter which was far more positive than mine, so we used her wonderful, optimistic prose instead of mine -- but we still only managed to send out about half a dozen of them. She also managed to get some pictures printed, but they haven't all been sent, either.

I'm just not feeling the vibe this year. What I'm feeling is old and broken-down and completely un-motivated to do anything anymore. With just a hint of a taste of the retirement life this past year -- albeit a completely un-funded retirement -- my towel is just about ready to be tossed in. After several trips to the doctor and several failed attempts at finding some level of medication to reduce the onslaught of old age, I tossed in the towel on those, too. Either they had a deleterious effect on my body, or had no effect at all. And this latest round of physical therapy which was supposed to help reverse the long-term effects of what we believe is my horribly bad posture and overextended allotment of chair-sitting while doing my job -- my right arm starts going numb when I extend it forward to tap on the keys - caused such a pain in my neck that I was unable to determine whether I'd strained a muscle or come down with strep throat!

I think it can be safely stated that it was, in fact, a throat infection rather than merely a muscle strain, as it did not get any better by refraining from my exercises, but rather got worse and worse over the course of a few days to the point that (1) it brought on a fever, and (2) only massive doses of analgesics were able to reduce the pain to the point that I was able to sleep, albeit fitfully.

In-between additional doses of pain medicine and herbal teas and cough drops, I shall endeavor to catch up on my post-2024 correspondence. At last count, we had received 20 cards and/or letters. If I can write four or five a day, I should be done by mid-week.

So long as my energy remains.

2025 - Wait and See

We were very disappointed with 2024. There were a lot of disappointments and frustrations in it.

What will 2025 bring?

It started well. Our new granddaughter, Louisa, was born. We are enjoying all the pictures which her parents are sending us, and looking forward to seeing her in person. Someday soon.

I'm working, which is a pleasant change from the unemployment which seemed to pervade most of last year. The job is not perfect, and there are aspects of it which are worrisome, but the checks are clearing the bank and our finances are slowly recovering, so that is good enough for the moment.

There are lots of projects to work on around here, not only inside the house but also in the garage and in the driveway and even outside (which is constantly being covered by a blanket of snow per the standard weather pattern in our neck of the woods).

There are cars to repair and maintain and shuffle around in the driveway; there are carpentry projects and plumbing projects and mechanical projects and electrical projects; there are software projects and hardware projects and filing projects and organizing projects and we won't even start listing all the sewing and crocheting and cooking and baking and teaching projects.

And of course there are the projects involving our children, as we continuously strive to help them in their efforts to provide comfortable homes for themselves and their children.

It seems that there is never a spare moment around here -- which explains why it has taken me so long to get around to updating this blog -- but I'm not going to apologize for it, because Life is about living, not about recording; I'll write as much as my schedule permits, and take & post pictures when possible, and sometimes even respond to people's comments if that should ever occur.

In the meantime, I hope that everyone within earshot has a happy and safe year.

Our 2024 Christmas Card