We had the kids this weekend, played Uno, ate lasagna, went to the Art Museum and McKay’s Bookstore and completely destroyed the house. I caught my third opossum, the excitement is wearing off and now it’s just a nuisance. They got one of my hens, Loretta Lynn, who I buried in the woods. Haven’t they gotten the memo yet? Do I need to post signs everywhere? I reset the trap with half of a salmon-patty from a few nights ago and slid back down the damp hill.
It was cold today, the leaves are hanging on by the stems, most of the trees are bare branches. I’ve been told there isn’t much to do in the winter time (unless it snows, then there’s lots to do. Somehow). I may hang my hat in Tennessee, but I’ve spent the past 24 years snow-free. It doesn’t sound so great. Getting home from work as night falls isn’t so great either. Should I take up knitting? Start hoarding puzzles? Buy all the seasons of Scrubs? I feel half stir crazy already and it hasn’t even snowed yet.
I got a message from our neighbor yesterday to come to the barn, I hopped into my rubber boots and put on a jacket that was actually just a button-down t-shirt and went to look. Apparently he was trying to get a square bale of hay off the pile we stacked a few weeks ago, and the whole thing came down. We moved the good bales into the hall of the barn and piled all the broken ones near the feed bins. As the sky darkened, we cross-stacked and re-stacked the good bales, making a wider and much more solid stack. I raked the loose pieces and threw them to the horses, who until then were running and kicking in the field like a herd of yearlings. Cold air excites them, I don’t know why but it does. I brought some prickly pieces back with me to the house, tipping them out of my boots and picking them off my socks.
Now it’s after 9. Sadie started a fire in the stove and I talked to my Mom on the phone. All the cats and dogs are in because neither one of us has the heart to leave them out all night. We’re slowly winding down, not quite ready for bed yet but getting there.
I went back to check the trap, halfway hoping it was empty, and saw something move when the lantern swept over it. It was the black cat, meowing, licking the salmon from his lips.