Sheba Time

Fred climbed to the top of a four-meter ladder.

Ethel on the sofa she is determined to shred.

I can cuddle this bundle of cuteness whenever I want.

Our household operates on Sheba time and that means we all get up at 3:30 in the morning. However, she’s a star. There’s been no “accident” in the house in days. And she loves to cuddle first thing in the morning and boy do I like that!

Clearly the key to a good nights sleep is an exhausted dog but it is hard to keep a puppy active when it is storming outside and when it is dark so early in the evening.

Fred, too, is amazing. He is always talking and he cuddled with me on the couch! Meanwhile, Ethel is on a mission to ruin all the furniture!

Fred has a cowlick. He also has stunningly beautiful golden guard hairs and I’m sure he’d have been kept, bred and shown were it not for the cowlick on his shoulder. It was the same with Leon. He had black spots in his mouth. I love these “faults” because without them my pets would not have come to me.

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Pinecones are brown and tapered at one end; they are God’s teeny turds. They, and a bazillion quadrillion dead pine needles, cover everything outside. It rains needles on windy days.

It was a dark, wet moody day Monday but every time it wasn’t raining I was out in the yard with Sheba. I won’t rake or sweep the turds; the moss beneath them is so delicate (and beautiful) that it would be ruined so I pick up the turds one at a time. It’ll take weeks.

I have to rent a powerful power washer to take the paint off my deck and when I do I’m going to see if they have a lawn vacuum to pick up the years of needles that have built up in the yard. I’m doing the backyard first hoping it will be truly lovely in Springtime when new growth emerges. I might scatter some wildflower seed in the back corner by the well.

This is what I came here to do — to garden and have animals. This place is a project for me and the more I do, the more this cabin feels like home.

Today I watched a deer just outside my office window. It was the first time I’ve seen one in my yard; my heart still stops when I see one so close. They are stunningly beautiful creatures and another reason to love living here.

I slob about in sweat pants. I don’t shave. I snack instead of having meals. I putter in the yard and no one calls. I like the solitary life (with pets). I love guests, just not an endless string of them as happened last week. Why else would I work so hard to make this place so appealing to visitors? Jessica comes in two weeks and I can hardly wait.

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I am now truly and totally mute if I try to talk to myself at home. I can only make an “mmmm” sound. And the phone is very difficult. Still, I can get single syllables out when I’ve a clerk to talk to in the village.

Today I have to call about getting Ethel spayed. I do not want to be in a house with a cat in heat.