I think I might have lost my mind a little this morning. Why? I went shopping at a local mall. An outdoor local mall. On a Saturday morning. In JANUARY.
Needless to say, it was pretty brisk when I took off from the house.
Below freezing, in fact.
And yet, I went.
Hindsight being 20/20 and all, I’m going with temporary insanity.
Evidently whoever manages the fountains at the mall didn’t get the weather report or make the seasonal change to shut off the fountains. Thank goodness at least the sun was out and made it bearable if you walked on the sides of the walkways where it was shining and slightly warmer. (And can I ask, what in the world was Mr. Shorts And T-Shirt thinking in the picture??!!??) Obviously I wasn’t the only one with insanity problems at the mall today.
This is Soot. Soot is a local neighborhood cat that looks strikingly similar to our little tabby, Carmen. One of the area neighbors feeds a large group of cats that may or may not be feral, but we get a number of visitors to our bird feeders as such and Soot is one of those cats. We named him/her Soot as it seemed that the little feline had stuck its slate-colored nose in something like soot, and thus the name.
We don’t mind that these cats like to visit our yard. They’re quite cute and our feeders are too tall and the birds are too quick for it to be a problem. Normally they just sit under the feeders and chatter at the birds as they eat seed.
The other day, Soot sauntered over from the woods and sprawled out in the sunshine for a long afternoon nap. It must have been quite the nap as the cat laid there for an hour or two, turning this way and that; stretching and soaking up the evening sun. I took the challenge that I should find a time once in a while to nap and try to attain the somnambulant bliss that little Soot appeared to experience that day. A good challenge indeed.
Near our little town, there are a lot of outdoor/hunting/garden/home-town-hardware type stores and we like shopping at these places. We don’t live on a farm, we don’t hunt and we only have a small garden to tend, but we definitely prefer these places to the big box stores.
A recent addition to this side of the world was a Tractor Supply Co. store. I’ve heard about this chain but had never been to one. On venturing in today, I was still pleased to see each aisle had something we could use.
Cat supplies – check. Garden supplies – check. Housewares – check. Fluffy baby chicks – check.
Wait – what?
Yes, you heard me. Fluffy, soft, newborn, baby chicks!
They were set up really well with staff members who adored them and took care in looking after them. I had groceries in the car, but was so happy to just stand in the store and walk from tub to tub having an adore-fest with these little cotton balls with feet.
If you can’t look at a 3-day old baby chick and not fall head over heels in love, you have lost your humanity.
Did I take any home? Unfortunately not. Would I have? In a heart beat. Our HOA prohibits any farm animals though, and chickens are included in that category. I did immediately text my husband though to inform him we needed to move immediately so we can have baby chicks to have farm-fresh eggs.
Rainy days are some of the best days there are. There’s just something about the mysterious fog that rolls in from the wetlands behind our home.
While it’s not the kind of wetlands that have cyprus trees and alligators, you can’t build anything out there so the land can’t be developed. It’s downright inviting to put on a pair of weather boots, my blaze-orange vest (there are hunters everywhere here) and tramp around out there to see what it’s like beyond where I can see from our home.
I think I’ll give it a few days for the ground to dry up a bit first so I don’t have to call my husband to trek out there and winch me and my camera out of a mud hole though.
This is another little feline visitor we’ve been having to our back yard bird feeders from. There is a house outside of our subdivision that feeds and looks after what must be 10+ outdoor cats. Several have visited our home before but they cause no problems and just tend to sit at the wood line to watch the birds eat and chatter at them.
I have named this one “Tux” for the tuxedo-like coat he or she has. Nearly every morning when I come downstairs and open the curtains and blinds, there is Tux. And in the evening when my husband comes home and I’m starting dinner, there is Tux. Starting to get used to the little guy or gal being around.