Life In Progress

I will not confuse my career with my life.


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Early Taste of Winter

The early snowfall last weekend almost sent me into winter hibernation phase. The power went out with a flourish at 11:22 p.m. Saturday, when the transformer in front of the house next door blew, lighting the snowy landscape with brilliant pink sparks. Instead of hopping out of bed to call Central Maine Power to report it, I pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep. Until a crew attempted to restore power during the wee hours and caused the same transformer to make more Frankenstein electrocution sounds, that is.

The power came back at 9:00 a.m., Sunday, just after we decided to venture out for a hot breakfast. With the kettle on and the boiler chugging away in the cellar, the day turned to a normal Sunday and my visions of lazily reading by the wood stove evaporated. With the snow melting and creating a mini mud season, we both got busy with chores: I overturned birdbaths, brushed snow off a raised bed and dug the remaining row of carrots from the ice-crunchy mud. Harvested not a moment too soon, these carrots will be super sweet.

Every winter, I vow to become more self-sufficient for inevitable power outages, but it hasn’t happened. Just last month, I walked right past the gorgeous, inexpensive camp stove at Cabela’s, thinking I should buy that …someday. Yesterday, I regretted it. This early taste of winter has made me renew my vow for preparedness.

I need to get to Cabela’s soon, before “fear-of-shopping” overtakes me because of the looming holiday season crowds.

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Roughage

Starting fall garden cleanup yesterday, (a monumental task,) I noticed some particularly succulent clumps of grass growing in the butternut squash bed. Perfect for Chitra’s “green fang.” I potted up the smallest clutch, watered it and brought it inside.

She was waiting at the screen door and made a chattering exclamation when she saw the blades of grass waving invitingly. Much sniffing, crunching and slurping ensued. Chitra’s emerald obsession is sated for the time being. She ate so much roughage, I was sure there would soon be trouble on the carpet. Oddly, I haven’t had to clean up any grassy cat puke. Yet.