Oh, The Weather Outside is....Confused

As you know, if you live around here, mid-November looks and feels like mid to late October.

Extremely warm weather in November just ain't right.

Our tomato plants have remained strong and healthy with not only tomatoes blushing on the vine, ready to come in and finish ripening if it starts to get cold, but tiny, star shaped, yellow blooms all over them.

Now, I know this won't last (it didn't....) but for  now my heart beats a little faster when I look at them and envision summer tomato sammies well into December.

The fires are scary and everywhere, seemingly impossible to put out, and if the community is at odds with each other about everything else, they aren't at odds about how badly we need rain.

Me? I pray for rain several times a day.

And when it does turn cold, I'll be praying for snow while I sit in front of the fire eatin' me a mater sammich.

Ah, the best of both worlds!

Surprise, Surprise!

There ain't much to be said for a November where my plants are still sitting on the front and back porch, acting like it's summertime (except for the caladiums; they did what they always do, which is die in pitiful suffering every first of October). 

I am six- (cough, cough, choke) excuse me! - years old, and I have never, ever left plants out past late October because they'd be killed.

I keep saying we have to get them in, then I listen to the weather report, and know another day or two or three won't hurt.

But there are a few good things.

First, the warm weather has allowed our tomatoes to keep on ripening. We (Husband) planted way too late, and I just knew all those tomatoes on the vine would die.

Not so. We have four or five on the kitchen counter and at least four more on the vines beginning to ripen. This is something else that has never happened in all my six-(cough, cough, choke) my allergies! - years.

And here is the other thing.  A few days ago I was sitting at the computer in the studio, just like I'm doing now. It was a tad bit later in the day, almost dusk. It was very warm. I had the ceiling fan on and the door wide open.

I heard something walking my way through the leaves, snuffling and snorting and grunting. I thought it was our bulldog. She has to check on me at least once while I'm out here; bugging Husband till he brings her.

I glanced sideways at the door and instead of seeing my dog, I saw the large rear end of a deer. Now, I knew it had to be a buck because of the size. I wanted badly to see him, so I slowly got up and paced my steps with the click click of the overhead fan. I reached the door and an eight point deer stared back at me.

Lord, he was beautiful, and big. His back would have reached my waist, and I'm five ft. eight inches tall. 

We stared at each other for maybe four seconds and then he lifted that white tail  and bounded off into the woods. I hollered after him, "You are so handsome!"

I let him live, he let me live. It's all good.

Still, you know? I'd rather get a little cold weather going - fire in the fireplace, fleece, flannel, wool, quilts.

Ain't it 'bout time, Mother Nature?

Saturday Slow News Day

Well, I cooked dinner. That's a first in several days, but (thank you, Lord!) my 'extra' back pain has lessened for the past two days, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

I cooked the last of the green beans from the garden. Husband and I picked them last evening. They were a surprise, because we figured we'd already seen the last of them.

One lone tomato and one lone cucumber were left, which we ate, too.

The only reason I feel sad that fall is a'comin', is because I won't have good, fresh tomatoes from the garden. Ain't much better eatin' than that.

Other news: Eli caught a baby blue tail lizard in the sun room. Husband said it looked about done for, but he caught it and took it out to the rose garden. Hope it revives.

Daughter ain't happy. Don't know why, but say a little prayer for her.

Husband did a lot of yard work early this morning. This is BIG news! Ha!

Okay, I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel in the news department.

Over and out.

Sleeping with the Enemy And Missing Tomatoes

How the heck do two tomatoes disappear? Husband is adamant that he did not eat them. Although, interestingly enough, I had mentioned to him only an hour or so before that those particular two tomatoes needed to be eaten today.  Hmmmmm....draw your own conclusions.

I just read an article about how sleep deprived so many people are because they let their dogs sleep with them. I ain't talking about little fluff dogs. I'm talking about Labs, bulldogs, GREAT DANES, and the like. 

When we rescued our Boxer, Buster, from the dump, the first thing he did (after he got home from the vet to make sure he wouldn't give our Boxer, Sam, any diseases or parasites) was to make a beeline for the foot of our bed. And he wouldn't budge. It took both Husband and myself to push and grunt until he got down. Then he did it again, repeatedly for several days.

Obviously, at some point, before he was tied with a rope and nearly starved to death, he had been treated quite well. In fact, the vet said he had been by several evident things when he examined him.

Anyway, it was hard to break him from bounding on the bed and curling up, but we did it.

When we got Molly, our American Bulldog, the first night she (and I ain't making this up) levitated from the bathroom to the foot of our bed. At the time, Daughter and I were watching a DVD and were quite surprised to find a 95 pound visitor in our midst. 

Took several nights to break her from this, convincing her she had a nice soft bed of her own, right by ours.

No offense, but I don't see how anyone in their right mind could possibly sleep with a dog. I mean, who has room in the bed for a dog with all those cats taking up every spare inch?

Anyway, back to the tomatoes: Don't think for a  minute Daughter ate them, she HATES tomatoes with the passion of a thousand burning suns. But she loves tomato soup, tomato sauce, ketchup...you get the picture.

I've looked in the garbage, I looked off the back porch where we throw peelings, I've looked everywhere. Where oh where did they go?

Film at eleven. Unless we are in the bed trying to sleep with fifty pounds of cat.

This, That and the Other

Daughter thinks I'm a little nuts because I talk to the tomatoes in our garden. You see, they are all big and green. There hasn't been enough sun to turn them red, and I'm worried they are going to rot or fall off the vine. I just told them to hang on, that the next two days are supposed to be sunny and that's what they  need.

What's wrong with giving a little encouragement to our maters?

Last night we were trying to round up Lily, our geriatric cat. All four legged (well, all two legged for that matter) sleep upstairs.

Husband usually shoos Lily up. She trots up the stairs, I talk sweet and open the door for her, and in she comes. But he couldn't find her. He asked me did I see her. I said, "No, but I hear her."

Husband said no, that was him making a noise, and he'd go back to the sun room and look again.

I was a little distracted because Molly, our dog, was lying in the foyer, not moving. Her eyes were open, she wasn't blinking at all,and I couldn't see if she was breathing. I sweet talked her, I whistled, I called her in a stern voice, and nothing worked. I thought she was dead for sure, because she's really old and has a lot of health problems.

Meanwhile, Husband said he gave up, Lily must be hiding. So I tried the last thing, It's the last I do, because we have not one cat who comes to "Kitty, kitty".

But I did it anyway. Molly, the dog, raised her head and looked at me. I truly think she has species identity issues.

Well, at least I found out she wasn't dead.

So, I open the bedroom door, and there Lily is, behind me, in her new little bed, a canvas bag she has fallen in love with. I said, "How in the world did you get in here?"

And I promise you, as Scarlet O'Hara is my witness, the cat looked up and winked at me.

We live in a madhouse.

(Now, I know at this point you are beginning to envy my life. Stop it right now. That's wrong to do, and  you  know it.)

The last thing is one of those weird experiences you have that has no explanation. I was calling someone and as the voice mail picked up and said, "You have reached this number," I realized I had dialed the wrong number so I hung up. As I started to dial the correct number, my phone started ringing, and it was the wrong number person calling I had just hung up from. I figured I owed the person an explanation, so I answered.

The guy asked, "Is this -" and he said the name of the place I retired from after thirty-one years of service almost ten years ago.

I was speechless. I mean, what are the odds?

I told him no, and he said, "Well, then who is this calling my cell phone number?"

I explained it was a wrong number and I apologized.

I also got goosebumps.

I've spent all day at a friends, then all evening at a meeting. So, I have to go to bed now.

Ponder on without me. But please, don't envy me.

Good-night.