quarter mile

An Abundance of Kindness

So Mojo has a neighbor--her closest neighbor, as a matter of fact, who still lives about a quarter mile away--who has had a couple of years of bad health. In and out of the hospital sort of thing. To complicate matters, he owns a couple of German Shepherds. The dogs are fairly well behaved, although a few times a year they get loose and come up and visit us.

We can't even see his house unless we walk down the driveway to the road, and then we have a straight shot at his house, a quarter mile away. And a couple of times a year, coming back from a hike, I occasionally see this bullet come tearing up the hill--one of the dogs got out, and now is making a scary beeline right for me. I've always stood my ground and given the dog a glaring of a lifetime, and the dog always skids to a stop about five feet away and then turns tail.

Ordinarily I don't mind dogs, and I wouldn't mind these dogs, except the owner himself (our neighbor) has warned me that ONE of the two, he is afraid, might actually bite someone one of these days. I would still be okay with that if it were a Yorkie or a dachshund, but a German Shepherd is a slight cause for worry. Mojo does not care to be dogbit, but if she were she'd rather it was some little rat dog and not the sort that the government uses to kill bad guys. But I digress. But despite our neighbor's warning, neither dog--I can't tell them apart--has shown any inclination to actually bite, thank heavens. But it has always been in the back of my mind. More Mojo!>>

Mojo's Afternoon o' Sloth...

So I was up at three yesterday, doin' Important Stuff, and when I got back home in the early afternoon instead of taking a nap--which is what Mojo felt like doing, quite desperately--I instead decided to take a quick hike to my spot, since it looked and felt like one of the best last days of autumn. The lake gets REALLY COLD and windy once it freezes over, and the snow gets knee- and waist-deep, and a casual hike turns into some sort of endurance death march instead of a lazy stroll. And when you reach the lake, instead of "ahhh, here I am at the lake" you are instead sliced to ribbons by this freezing, freezing biting wind coming off the ice. So I tend to only hike down there in the winter when my Favorite Husband FORCES ME TO.

But for your continuing envy and edification, I took my cell phone with me, so in addition to fielding a call from my Favorite Older Sister I was able to document autumn's last gasp in Mojo's neck of the woods. More Mojo!>>

Ode to a Mud Hole

So one of the ways to get from Mojo's house back to civilization--you know, the place where people wear clothes and shoes--takes you along a road that parallels a small stream that is the home of numerous historical beaver ponds and dams in various stages of disrepair. I don't think there are currently any beavers along the stream--all the ones I have seen have been down at the lake--but every quarter mile or so there is (are?) the remnants of a beaver dam--usually a swampy meadow, some still full of dead trees, etc. More Mojo!>>

Noisy Neighbors

So we've had the windows open for a week. And hence even if we wanted to sleep in--and today Mojo was a slugabed and slept in until 5:30, due to a stressful day yesterday--our feathered neighbors make sure we don't. First up is this fellow to the left: a pileated woodpecker. More Mojo!>>

Beaver Lodge Safety

People have written in asking about just how safe it is to crawl into a wild animal's den as we are seen doing in the beaver lodge video. To which I say, yes, ordinarily Mojo is not one for endangering her life and/or annoying a wild animal and attempting to get really close to them in confined quarters. Mojo has been attacked by MICE when she has attempted to catch them and save them from the cat--and by "attacked" I mean, they put up their little dukes and make scary-sounding growly squeaks and lunge at your hand when you try to grab their tails, and fight and scrabble and bite against the leather gloves while you carry them to safety. Which is why I now take an extra minute and go get leather gloves when there's a mouse hockey game going on somewhere in the house. No, Mojo is cowardly and does not condone foolhardy acts. More Mojo!>>

Digging Out...

Well, we FINALLY got a snowstorm worth mentioning. Although much to my chagrin most of it came down as sleet and not snow. So instead of pretty fluffy stuff we have about six inches of slimy greasy granular stuff.

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