Funky Feline Fotos

I promised you a picture of the cat on the desk. Here it is. Bert got very comfortable between the keyboard and the monitor. He likes being in the house when the dog's not here. But once Callie shows up, he's ready to head back down to the utility room and garage. Poor guy.

What? You want to type something? Go ahead.

I took a photo of Callie getting ready to pounce and it turned out very blurry. But what the heck, I'll post it for your enjoyment. Ready?

I spy something that begins with "c."

When Callie sees Bertie, she just goes into a zone. Her eyes dilate and she starts to drool. It's like she goes into a trance or something. It's very strange. I don't think they will ever figure out how to get along.

Walk this way, please

This is one of the chalk arrows left over from last weekend's randonnée pédestre (town hike). They're all over the ground in the vineyard. It takes a few rainstorms before they wash away. The arrows tell you which way to go when you get to an intersection. There are also big X's on the ground to indicate which way not to go.

Some guy goes all over town the day before a walk and draws these arrows on the route.

As I type this, Bertie is sitting on my desk between the keyboard and the monitor. He is watching my fingers very closely as they move over the keys. You should see him when I reach for the mouse.

Ken took the dog out for the morning walk and tossed Bertie in the house for some "warm time." The garage and utility room get a little chilly on cold mornings like this. Mr. Bert was also in the house during last evening's walk and got to spend some time by the fire.

Ooops. Now Callie's home. Camera time!

The detritus of winter

All around us in the fields I see the remains of last summer's growth. Brittle reminders in brown and gray of what was and of what will come again. Ah, January. This month takes too long to pass, and when it does, we are stuck with February. Which is thankfully short, a mild consolation for having put up with January.

Come spring, this spent thistle in a nearby field will either fall or be mowed down.

Still, there are signs. I see and hear more and more birds on morning walks. I see buds fattening up on trees and shrubs, and bulbs are starting to push up green stems. I'm glad the winters are mild here in our ocean-tempered climate (even though the ocean is four or five hours to our west, it still moderates our winter).

Are you seeing any signs of spring yet?

Periodic Puppy Pics

While I don't enjoy the slippery slope in the winter woods, Callie loves it. There's lots to smell out there. When I walk her in the afternoon, she turns right out of the back gate and heads directly down to this path. It's become our afternoon pattern.

The path through the woods. Those trees blew over in the big storm last February.

When I walk her in the morning, she turns left out of the gate and we head out into the vineyards. She's got me trained well. Each walk is nice in it's own way (except for the slippery mud). The vineyard walk is longer and flatter so I can walk at a brisk pace. We mix it up in good weather by meandering through and around the various vineyard parcels.

The woods walk takes us down the hill and through a small residential section, then back up the hill on the paved road. That hill is rather steep and walking back up is a good workout for me. It reminds me a little of coming home from work in San Francisco and the big hill that I trudged up every evening.

Walking is good exercise and if it wasn't for the dog I'm not sure I'd be motivated to do it every day.

The winter woods

It won't be long before the buds and leaves appear, so we'll have to enjoy every day of these bare, cold, and gray woods while we can. They are pretty. In a picture. No, really. I can't tell you how many times I've nearly fallen flat on my keister because of wet and slippery fallen leaves on mud. How I long for dry ground.

The woods north of our house, just across the vineyard.

But seriously, folks. January has been drier than either November or December. But less wet is still wet, right? At least it's not snow. We need about a week of clear sunny days to even begin to dry things up.

Hope springs eternal.

Funky Feline Fotos

I noticed Bertie out on one of the neighbors' trash cans last week. Got the camera. Snap. Snap. Snap. He was enjoying the view and then suddenly jumped down and sauntered away. Just like a cat.

Bertie checks out a neighbor's trash bin. Thank goodness for zoom lenses.

One of our other neighbors rang our doorbell early on Saturday morning. She's a young woman, probably younger than thirty, and we had never met her before. She asked if we had seen a small black kitten. Apparently he got out of the house and has gone missing. There was a cat fight near her house and when she opened the door to see what was going on, the kitten got out. She has several cats, she told us. She also has chickens. I asked her if she ever saw Bertie in her yard and she said yes, but that he wasn't involved in the fight.

There are now at least seven cats in our neighborhood that I know of.

Sundays are hunt days

At least during the fall and winter. A week ago Sunday the guys held one of their battues (organized hunts). They come together at strategic spots with dogs and drive the game from one area of the woods and vineyards to another. This concentrates the scared critters so they can be shot by the guys waiting on the other side.

The hunters parked and positioned in the early morning fog. View from our house.

It hardly seems fair, but I'm told it's necessary once in a while to keep the fox or roe deer populations down. Normal individual hunting is usually about rabbits and pheasants and other small game. I don't think the individual hunters are allowed to take deer on their own.

This guy's got his folding chair as he waits for the prey. The fog cleared away.

Last weekend our vineyard* was the end point of the chase. About twelve cars barreled through and parked out there while Callie and I were on our morning walk. The hunters took up positions along the road and at various points in the vineyard. I asked one hunter I passed if they were going for fox or deer. Deer, he said. I could hear the dogs barking through the woods a couple of roads over.

Callie and I scooted home quickly. Don't want to be caught out there with hunting dogs, scared critters, and guys with guns.

It's all over pretty quickly and all the guys leave. Hunting season should be ending pretty soon, except for a couple more battues through February.

* I say "our vineyard" in the sense that it's behind our house. We don't own the vineyard.