His heart is submerged in affection As he pleads entrance into her chambers Clawing endlessly to break the glass barrier Dividing him from his intended
Before his heart betrays his existence Allowing a crack to form I open the door between them As he rushes to his adored
With rapture pure and overflowing He caresses her face with his He sidles himself into her fullness Thrusting with force of his bliss
His warm intentions considered From the depth and abundance of love His cherished endures his affections With warm patience though not the same love
His expression bears beauty of intention
With pure and abiding light
Overcoming time and separation
With undying adherence through plight
For chance to reach into her warmness
And saturate feelings displayed
To be filled by her softness of presence
And beside her to gratefully stay
Yet with his warm heart so unfolding
The recipient looks for relief
As much as she enjoys her companion
His affections do not let her be free
To honor his noble intentions I hold him with warmest embrace Then place him behind the barrier To give rest, each having their space
Winter has finally arrived in Southwest Missouri. It began last week, has been frigid and is diving into single-digit lows for several days, with the lows in the forecast going back up to 11 F next Friday. The forecast has been changing on a daily basis, with a few nights of single digits originally due last week that should have been gone by now.
Along with the cold, there has been occasional strong and light wind, light intermittent freezing rain and snow. Even though the initial layer was thin, all of the outside grounds are very slippery. Dogs must go outside to take care of business, and even a cat slipped with first one back leg going out of control then the other. Humans and Newfs are slipping too. Sand works well for steps, frozen into the ice, but the next thin layer develops, and another, and we need more sand.
The cats are out and playing occasionally, even last night when we were outside bringing up a heifer who had her first calf. But most of the time, they are staying in their warm spot. When Banner goes out, she gets company for a while, then when she goes into cold-weather party mode, the cats retreat to the shelter built for them under the bedroom patio. She doesn’t understand why the rest of us aren’t quite as joy-filled about the temperature drop.
Inside is where the human who indulges a Newf in enjoying her ancestral habitat can retreat for a cup of real hot cocoa. The first ingredient, to be measured into a large or extra-large mug, is two teaspoons of organic cocoa powder. Add salt, then two level teaspoons of sugar and mix well. Then add about 1.5 tablespoons of half and half. Mix well and put the mug in the microwave for about 20-30 seconds. Heating this mixture wll help the cocoa flavors extract into the dairy fat, so the outcome is more flavorful. Mix well and put in the microwave again for about 10-15 seconds. Each microwave will be a little different, so adjust as necessary; the goal is to get the mixture hot, not to turn it into tar or destroy the microwave. It should not boil up.
Once the mixture is hot and the cocoa has been well dispersed, add about a cup of 2% milk and mix again. Then heat the mixture for about 1.5 minutes at full power, stopping after about 1 minute every 10-15 seconds to mix again, to reduce spot heating in the microwave. Stop if the milk starts to boil.
When you pull the mug out of the microwave, if a Newf is at your elbow, he/she has learned what comes next: The red can that contains whipping cream (not the fake stuff) is used to top off the mug, and then some. The larger the mug, the more room for whipped cream. The Newf is waiting for the topping to overflow to assist with clean-up. And then waiting for you to pile some onto the spoon because good girls get treats.
This is a gift to yourself for those times when some anti-cold self-comfort feels especially good.
In a year filled with challenges, I hope that you have enjoyed the company of those in your pod. And for all of us, hoping that 2021 will bring peace, joy and fulfillment!
When you live in the country, rodent control is a necessity, and cats necessarily do their part. Linus is a sort of grandfather cat. He teaches the newcomers, usually youngsters, about the ways of life, and he sets a good example of how to behave in general, for those who listen. Linus arrived here in 2017, a heavy-bodied, muscular cat who moved like heavy machinery, who could surprise you with a sudden burst of agility and speed. Rodent patrol was always a part of his business, but unfortunately, he had a broader palate which included songbirds. Since bird-feeding stations become cat-feeding stations, we quit having bird-feeders a long time ago, but I miss feeding the birds. I don’t miss finding as many colorful feathers and remains.
This morning, a lovely Saturday morning two days after our first frost and with a temperature suited to Newfoundland joy, I took Banner outside to take care of her morning business. There was Linus, following a mouse: across the yard, down the drive, back to the south yard, across the south yard. He wasn’t “giving chase”. He was stoically walking behind this poor creature who had sensed his doom. The mouse was running, but Linus was walking. He hasn’t been up to the same performance level he had when he was younger. Then there was Banner, following Linus by several feet and watching closely. Banner still has bouts of excitement, mainly when the weather turns cool, and if she can’t joust a cat into action with a nose thrust, she may “accidentally” step on one to escalate some excitement. She intends no harm, but loves the chase. Then she gets the talk: Banner, he is much smaller than you. When you step on him, you hurt him. Don’t hurt the cats. I don’t know how much of the English language she assembles, but she understand the concept and the tone. Her comprehension does surprise me at times, like a couple of days ago when she was reacting tot he vacuum cleaner and I casually said that she should go wait in the bedroom, and she did that immediately. Perhaps part of my surprise was that she needed no additional convincing.
She continued to her spot, where she took care of business, then returned to observe the interactions. Finally, Linus laid down after this rodent of predetermined fate reached a point of fatigue, and I called Banner to come inside. Newfs have a high level of empathy, and she gets in hot water when she makes a cat scream. This would only be confusing. As she began to walk away, she turned quickly and watched again. The mouse must have squealed. I called again, and this sequence repeated a few more times. Then my light bulb turned on: Good girls get treats! I rattled the cookie jar a bit to be sure I had diverted her attention, then she promptly came inside.
There are a number of National Geographic moments here on the farm, some more dramatic, some simple and charming. Last night, the full moon crept above the creek in the valley. Earlier in the week in a garden planter, a collection of three types of bees and wasps were feeding on the flower nectar of the spearmint plants, each type black with a yellow band around their abdomens. One day, the walnut tree was losing its leaves in a swirling breeze, a steady stream of bright yellow confetti swirling in wafts toward the creek. A squirrel on the ground below was collecting nuts for winter storage. For the past two mornings, a large wolf spider has been taking daytime refuge in the corner of the bathroom linen closet. There are many little encounters with nature on a daily basis. Each creature is trying to survive, using the resources available.
