Shootin' the Breeze

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Archive for the tag “Snow”

Snowed In


We woke to snow and it kept coming all day.  What do we care?

We have wood to  burn.  I think there is plenty of propane in the tank.  We paid the electric bill.  And have a generator too.  We have hay in the barn.  We have groceries, including dog food and cat food.  If we brush off the satellite dishes, we have internet and TV.

I still have to go outside.  The horses rely on me to throw them hay and fill the heated stock tank with water.  They appreciate my care.  We have relationships.  They have independent personalities.  On the other hand, the barn cats, who also have personalities, are less appreciative.  Rather, they believe that they are entitled.  They scold me when they should be worshiping me.  I doubt many barn cats have a covered bed heated by an electric blanket.

A snow plow went up our country road.  We could get to the highway if there were not drifts on the lane.  But we don’t need to go to town.  I got a call that the Rural Land Use Advisory Board meeting was cancelled.

I shoveled off the deck three times but it does not appear that mattered.  It is deep with snow again.  An avalanche slid off the steep metal roof.

Sugar made soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and we had leftover ziti and Italian green beans for supper.

Being snowed is kinda fun.  Especially with Miss Sugar.


snoverToday we have snow in Colorado.  Here are two photos of our beloved Rover, taken last year.

couchroverHere he is relaxing on a couch with a cowhide that matches his outfit.

If you are interested in Rover’s story, type his name in the search box above recent posts and archives.

We miss him still and always will.

Night Watch

snowybirdbathWhen I woke up yesterday morning, at about 6:00 a.m., my bride, who was laying next to me, informed me that the electric power went off during the night.  We had a snowstorm.  Or so she said.  Unlike her, I had slept soundly through the night.  If burglars came, the dogs and Sugar would have to wake me up or I would never know it.  We have a sign on the porch, proclaiming, “We don’t call 911.”   That is tough talk.  I’m a crack shot, provided that I am awake.  (I realize that I am being very trusting of my readers by posting this.  I hope that none of you are burglars.  If you are, remember that Sugar is a light sleeper so you should beware of her and the dogs, just not me.)

As I was sleeping soundly, Sugar had started a fire in the wood-burning stove, so it was nice and comfy when I arose.  I appreciated her efforts.

She felt it necessary to remind me of something.  “Don’t flush the toilet.”  (When we don’t have electricity, our well does not work, so once we are out of water, there is no more.)

You are probably thinking that we are good candidates for a gas-powered generator.  You would be right.

Then it was my turn.  As Sugar stayed in bed, I went outside to get more firewood.  Note: She did not have to go outside.  She used the last of the dry wood in the house.  In comparison, what a good boy am I!

So I brushed off the snow and added wet wood to the fire.

Then, no thanks to me, the electricity came back on.

Our computers and internet service rely on electricity.  However, even with the computer on after the restoration of power, I could not get on the internet.  And here is where you will be impressed:  rather than get Sugar up, I brushed off the satellite dish all by myself, just like a big boy.

When Sugar finally came downstairs, the fire was roaring, the coffee made, and the TV and internet were working.

What a good boy am I — in the daylight.  Sugar does okay for the night shift.  For a girl.


Doggone Bad Dog Gone


Here we go again.  I hope my loyal followers do not mind another story about Beau, our Yellow Lab, and his misdeeds.  Actually, I mind writing about more of his misdeeds because that means I experienced them, which I did, again.

On Sunday evening, Miss Sugar and I made plans to meet another couple for dinner at the local restaurant at 5:30 p.m.  Note that I wrote the local restaurant.  Where we live, twenty miles from town, the restaurant that is closest is at a mountain resort called Western Ridge with cabins to rent, a horse stable, pool, and (this is important) a LAKE.

We drove the pickup and brought the dogs, who were to wait in the pickup per our plan.  When I say the dogs were in the pickup, I mean in the cab, not the bed of the truck from which they could jump out.

Miss Sugar and I were also in the cab of the truck.  I, by necessity was there so I could operate the vehicle.  Miss Sugar is also allowed to ride in the front seat rather than the bed of the truck.  The dogs are supposed to ride behind us in the “supercab” back seat.  They did.

Then we parked.   We left the windows partially rolled down, but not far enough for a dog to escape, if that is what you are anticipating, dear reader.

What actually happened is that as Sugar emerged through the passenger door, Beau rudely pushed past her and ran to the lake.  Of course, he has been trained to come when called.  Of course, we called.  And called.  And called.

The lake is fully equipped with ducks.  Beau likes water.  He also likes ducks.  I seriously doubt that they like him.  They swam out further from the shore.  No problem.  Beau can swim.  So he did.  He swam out to the ducks.  He was very happy to do so.  He did not mind at all.

Miss Sugar and I minded quite a bit.  We walked toward the lake as we called him.  I opened a gate so as to get to the lake.  Guess what!  Lake shores can be muddy.  This one was, especially after the foot of snow that fell a few days earlier had melted quickly.  Beau did not seem to mind the mud.

He also did not mind us, in the sense of obeying us.  He did not mind at all.  He ran past me and past Miss Sugar, who failed to tackle him.  He ran from the lake towards the road.  Good riddance!  I was already planning his funeral.

Beau did not run into the road.  He ran into the horse pasture.  The horses for the livery stable were present in the pasture.  We have horses at our home.  Beau accompanies (as distinguished from assisting) me when I feed them twice a day.  Our horses are used to him.  Why he was interested in strange horses is something you will have to ask him about.  These strange horses were not used to him and, I guess, didn’t like him much.  However, he did not chase them.  Rather, he just greeted them.  He did not have time to stay and visit, however, because he noticed us approaching.  So, he ran the other way, towards the ranch house 100 yards from the restaurant.  It is a private residence.  Well, it was private until the three of us visited.

I drove the truck up their drive.  Beau acknowledged our presence and headed for the lake.  He was distracted en route by Miss Sugar holding something in her hand.  A treat perhaps?

Miss Sugar is normally an honest Christian woman.  On this occasion, however, she attempted to deceive Beau by pretending to have a treat when, in actuality, she was merely holding snow in her hand.  If he wanted snow, there was still plenty around that had not yet melted.  So you can see how Miss Sugar was not offering anything that he could not get without her, hence the deception.

Well, it worked.  Beau came up to Sugar and she quickly grabbed his collar while he sniffed her hand with the snow.  I did not wait for him to decide whether to jump into the cab of the truck.  I did not trust that he would do so if Miss Sugar let go of his collar.  So I gently wrapped my loving arms around him and lifted his 100 lb. body and shoved it into the back seat and slammed the door.

Our friends were already seated in the restaurant when we entered.  They thought that they arrived before us because they did not see our truck in the parking lot.  That is because it was parked in the private drive of the private residence.

I was wearing muddy boots and had mud on my shirt as well.  It is a good thing this restaurant advertises “casual dining.”  I was real casual, except for the high blood pressure that is.


Rover Snow Photo

Have you seen Bev Doolittle pictures of spotted horses that are hidden in snow and trees?  Well, Miss Sugar took a photo of Rover in our new snow.  It reminds me of Bev Doolittle’s art. 

What do you think?

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