It had been a pretty productive morning yesterday, and the afternoon wasn't going so bad until I went inside and took a coffee break.
I had just cleaned most of a thick bed of leaves from one of the front-lawn flower beds and had raked them into a wind row on the lawn.
The plan was to leave them there until today when a new part for my lawnmower bag arrives. The lower chute on the bag fell off one day last week while I was mowing.
On inspection, I saw that the metal fastener and its bungee had disappeared. Plus, the hole where the fastener goes was cracked all the way to the edge of the chute.
Five or six years had taken its toll. Luckily, Bill was able to order a replacement. It's coming today.
While I was drinking my coffee yesterday afternoon, a gut feeling told me that it might be wise to rake up that wind row a section at a time, load it into my cart and haul the leaves away.
Yeah, I'd better do that, I thought. So, out I went.
Within less than a minute and with Liam at my side to assist, I was raking one second, cussing the next.
A punishing gust of wind suddenly whooped up, the air turned grayish and snowflakes began descending from the sky---only to be blown every which way but loose.
A winter squall aka a mini blizzard had begun with gusto.
Suddenly, it was Liam and me against the wind.
I remained determined to not let Mother Nature win on this project, even as leaves began to rise from my wind row.
With dogged determination, I think I managed to pick up at least 95 percent of those leaves and haul them off as wind and snow continued to swirl around me.
By the time Liam and I left the job, he had temporary goggles, thanks to a good coating of snow, and the lawn had quickly transformed from dull green to mostly white.
Still, I won that leaf battle, and as I looked back, I could see that the flower bed and surrounding lawn looked a whole lot tidier than it had in the morning.
Completion of the job earned me a few minutes in the warmth of the house-----at least until I happened to glance out the sliding glass door and spotted horses where horses were not supposed to be.
They were grazing in the open area along the lane. Happily, the lure of greener grass than what they are munching on in the hay field kept them from prancing down the lane and out to the road.
Yup, Lefty had figured out how to open that gate between the lane and the hay field.
I thought maybe he had the other day when I went to bring them to the barnyard because the chain holding the gate in place was lying on the ground. Then again, I may have failed to fasten it.
Twas for sure yesterday, however, that he had, indeed, figured out how to grab that chain with his teeth, lift it over the metal post and release the gate.
He must have felt pretty proud letting his friends out yesterday.
Note to self: the chain will be attached at a lower level next time.
Loose horses meant leaving the warmth of the house, where I had just learned from reading a Facebook post that our actress friend Cherita would be appearing on an evening program on Fox called 9-1-1.
We met Cherita Armstrong a few years ago when she came to Sandpoint and to the Panida Theater for a one-woman show depicting Harriet Jacobs in the play Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
At the time, our daughter-in-law Debbie was serving as executive director to the sponsoring Pend Oreille Arts Council, so the rest of us enjoyed access to Cherita, who stayed the weekend in Sandpoint.
We brought her and her colleague Chris Snock to the Lovestead, took her to my sisters' to pet horses and then drove her to some spectacular vistas of the lake, topping off the day at Second Avenue Pizza.
Since then, Debbie has visited with her again while accompanying students to a journalism convention in Los Angeles.
In last night's episode, Cherita appeared briefly as a mom in a family who are eating outside and suddenly see a car drive by with a dead person sticking out the window. So, they call 9-1-1.
Bill and I were watching, and the minute we saw her, we agreed: yup, that's Cherita. We all loved our time with Cherita and Chris and especially enjoyed seeing her last night in a show centering around Halloween.
Which brings the subject of vengeful crows into the discussion.
The show opens when a group of students are on a field trip to a place with Halloween-oriented activities, including a maze.
As is customary, not all kids followed the rules all the time. Two young men see a crow in the maze and decide to launch rocks at the bird.
They probably would never do that again, and they probably learned, like I did firsthand a few years ago, that just like with Mother Nature, you DON'T FOOL with crows.
In this case, the crow and its friends attacked the boys, pecking away at them, necessitating a call to 9-1-1.
That's when valuable knowledge of crows with a grudge comes from one of the squad who shared some important facts.
I could not help but chuckle as I watched the responders take steps ever so gently to get to the injured boys as the crows eyed them with revenge in their minds.
In my situation where dealing with crows turned bad, my intentions were good. It's just that Mama Crow did not know that.
One day at our farm on Great Northern Road, I found a baby crow near the willow tree and inside the yard where, if a dog came along, things might get ugly.
So, I gently picked up the little bird and put it on the other side of the fence far enough in the neighbor's field that our dogs would probably never see it.
Almost immediately, I heard protests from above as two or three big crows swooped down around me. Sensing immediately that this was not good, I headed for the house.
For nearly two weeks, every time I would leave the house, at least one crow would immediately spot me, sound off and began to circle me. I don't know what caused the birds to finally lay off, but I do know how scary it was, never knowing if I'd be attacked.
A year or so ago, we had another baby crow on the ground inside the yard fence, and the dogs spotted it right away. Something needed to be done.
I took the dogs to the house and told Bill. He came out, all prepared to move the little bird, even with my reminders of what had happened to me.
"Be ready," I warned. "They'll come after you."
As Bill walked toward the baby crow, fate was on his side.
Before he reached it, the little bird managed to launch off and fly halfway across the first pasture and later, a little further. All the time, other crows stationed at different spots served as a protective squadron, watching to see if they needed to seek revenge.
No need that day.
So seeing the quirkiness of the crow scene in last night's episode of 9-1-1 rang home to me. For anyone else reading this that has not had a crow experience----leave them alone!
They will get you!
And, so yesterday, like the TV show 9-1-1, was a bit of a quirky day, but it turned out well, especially having a chance to see our friend doing what she does best, only on the TV screen.
I think I might even have to watch that show again.
Happily, this morning, most of that snow has disappeared, and maybe we can keep on with preparing for the real winter around here.
Hope it's late in coming and early in leaving. Yesterday was ample, thank you.
Happy Tuesday.
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