Wednesday, December 24, 2014

'Twas the Day Before Christmas

by Pa Rock
Man with a Dog

Christmas Eve, 2014 - my first here at my little farm in West Plains.  It's just Rosie and me taking a break from tending to the chickens and peacocks, and sitting inside where it is warm and quiet.  My little dog seems to understand that this is a good time to just curl up and relax and not be a nuisance.

Rosie has a new game that she plays outside.   Well, actually I think she gets played.  She has graduated from chasing chickens to chasing squirrels, and though she is lightening fast, she is still no match for the squirrels.  There is one particular large gray squirrel who especially enjoys the chase.  He runs past several tall trees without heading up the trunks and into the safety of the limbs.  His objective seems to be to run poor Rosie until she is ready to drop.  They both act as though they love their daily run.

A hungry hawk circled over the farm yesterday afternoon, and the roosters promptly ushered their concubines into the safety of a large bush.  It's amazing what animals know simply by instinct.

Sadly, pinochle at the senior center has been cancelled tonight and next Wednesday evening due to the holidays.  The good news is that one of my kids supplied me with a few new movies which will make a nice replacement for the weekly card games.

I spoke with Aunt Mary in San Diego yesterday, and during that telephone call she reminisced about how she and my Uncle Wayne used to play pinochle with his uncle and aunt, Bob and Gladys Nutt of El Monte, California.   Mary said that those games were fun and that Uncle  Bob had an uncanny knack for figuring out what cards were in each player's hands.  (I wonder if they were playing with his deck!)

It's not actually the pinochle itself that's fun, it's the socialization.  You can really get to know people by the things they say and do around a card table.

The morning break is over and Rosie and I are heading back outside.   I am going to gather sticks to throw onto one of my three brush piles, and Rosie will undoubtedly find something to chase.  A farmer and his dog are never still for long!

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