After work we headed up the creek. Willow had a bitch of a time with the snow. It had a crust from the thaw/freeze, morning to night. The crust was such that she could walk on top, but then would break through, tough slogging for her four-inch legs. Meanwhile the squirrels and mice ran on top of the snow instead of underneath. Willow could see them but when she took chase she broke through. Talk about frustrating! Still she gave them a good barking to.
A couple of Piliated Wood peckers followed us through the bush. Lisa remarked, how good to be out walking the snow with the weekend ahead of us. We saw a flock of Snow Buntings. They flew in unison onto the open sky above the trail then back into the security of the black spruce. The contrast is something that sticks if you are lucky enough to see it. The dark, later these days, turned us around and sent the Piliated into holes in the cottonwoods. The mice, on top of the snow, had fun with my dog, but wouldn’t be so lucky with the owls.
It was good to escape the melt and fog of the valley bottom. I baked a nice piece of fish for supper. We had it with a few cold vegetables and some olives we had in the cupboard. There is something about fresh lemon juice and garlic that makes you think you are having a gourmet dinner.
If shit goes sideways, pension or not. Lisa and I will be happy. We are eating less and less. Nothing goes to waste. Of course, it would be nice to have a few bucks for gas money to deliver us from the ruck of the crowd.
I wash up in the basement sink. It is old. Made of heavy porcelain. It has a crack in it. For about six months I thought the crack was a long hair that had fallen from one of my girls.
There is a winter spider that lives in the sink. I wash him down the drain once a day. But he is always there when I come back. Sometimes I really give it to him, turning both faucets on full blast. I have become used to the spider. Even admiring it for it’s perseverance and it’s unwillingness to change. Maybe it gets something from being flushed daily.
The spider goes about its business without blame.
The same with Willow breaking through while the mice are on top of the snow.
I’ve never seen a dog or animal feel sorry for themselves. I think that’s why we hold them in such high esteem.
It will break one of these days. The hairline will become thicker. The sink, I mean. When it does we will make do.
As for the winter spider.
That little eight legged creature will be fucked!