Looking Back at 2022

Happy New Year, Everyone! 

I checked to see last year's first post... not until January 25th, a month out from Christmas. 

This beautiful boy was still here: 

Rusty was the first feral who lived here.  I took him in with three of his siblings and raised them in the little red hen house until they were old enough to let loose.  Two disappeared early on... but Rusty and his sister Harley were here together for a year... then Harley disappeared. 

When Jack Flash came last year, Rusty moved on, across the road to my neighbor's house.  Now they have stopped seeing him.  Life is so very hard for feral cats. 

There was a second male here, Yeller, when Jack Flash came last year... he has disappeared, too. 

I only posted once during February... this picture of the stubby tailed raccoon that has now disappeared was part of that post. 

I also posted this picture of the eggs I got one day: 

Let me tell you, friends, those days are OVER.  

I have seven hens that will be two in about two months, I am getting TWO eggs a day. 

I still have one old brown leghorn... she is six... who lays about three huge white eggs a week. 

My days of giving away six or seven dozen a week are gone, I'm afraid. 

In March, I was sick for almost two weeks... with flu like symptoms.  I tested negative for Covid and then tested for flu and was negative, but the doctor agreed I had probably had it.  I managed to do chores and almost nothing else. I found out afterwards that it was a reaction to a new medication I had begun taking.  What a relief to know that. 

I was still planning to do quite a bit of gardening... and had grandson Jax load me up with planting soil. 

I started pepper and tomato seeds that I had gotten from Baker Creek.  I was very disappointed in the tomato seeds, the pictures in the catalog did not coincide with what I got. 

I did enjoy growing the peppers, Gorbaci, for ornamental value. 

This year I will not be starting any vegetables.  

In April, the two silkie roosters, Brutus and Doug, managed to kill the last two silkie hens that were running with them.  I had separated two out earlier to use for education at the Ag Hall. 

Beasts. 

I still have Doug, on the far right, and Brutus is with Mary in a separate pen.  Martha, the other silkie hen, was killed by a predator in her pen in broad daylight. 

I am trying to rehome these guys... Doug is a beautiful rooster, but a pain to get in at night. 

I have to carry Brutus and Mary up and down the steps in and out of their pen daily, and 

I am no longer doing chicken presentations at the museum, so it's time to lighten the load. 

In May, this guy appeared. 

Jack Flash, aka The Jackal... caused all kinds of ruckus here. 

He hated Coco, the black porch cat.  He hated Cleo, the beautiful. 

He tried to breed Teenie, my sweet little girl who was neutered and is still here. 

He chased Rusty and Yeller off and tried to chase Bullseye off.  

He was the King of the Place. 

He caused me all kinds of problems.  I had to go way out in the yard to feed Cleo twice a day, and Coco had to eat on the back porch for three months or be killed. 

(I realized there is a Baltimore Oriole on the feeder behind him in the picture) 

In April, these guys came back. 

They were not here too long, this time, and left again a few months later to give the pasture time to recover.  They returned again, and then were taken out in late August when the pasture was pretty much depleted after drought. 

I am not sure if they will be back this year... they were very hard on the pasture, and I am having increasing trouble taking care of the big water tank because of course, I have exacting water expectations. 

In May, these appeared at the foot of the deck... I am praying they will all be back this year, too. 

I had quite the stand of Batchelor's Buttons. 

I did not post in June, I have no idea why.  I get busy... but that's no explanation. I used to post daily! 

In July, I posted a picture of our newest family arrival... 

Our newest little doll, Wyatt, with his big sister, Maci.  These are children of Granddaughter Madison, 

who live at Tanglewood Lakes in LaCygne, Kansas, far from me. 

I love seeing pictures of them, though we rarely meet in person. 

He is now a six month old... sitting up well and has blond hair and looks like his daddy Dorval's mini-me. 

Maci will be starting kindergarten as an almost-six-year old this fall.  It seems like she was just born, where does time go! 

In July, Jack Flash broke my heart.  I had had him neutered and got all his shots. 

I did not have them test for FIV.  

Within a week or so of the neuter... he fell sick. 

I watched him waste for a week and took him down to the vet for a booster which was scheduled. 

The King was dying. 

I held him and sung to him  as he was euthanized for FIV.  The neuter had thrown him into an episode.  I will never get another feral neutered without testing for this devastating disease. 

It took a while for the cats to relax and stop watching for his ambushes.  Coco came back to the front porch and deck, Cleo moved into the shop.  Everyone was safe again. 

The sad thing was, I had really learned to love him and the neutering was my way of making sure he could stay here with everyone.  We figured the testosterone would die down in a few months and things would settle. 

It was not to be. 

Jack fathered a litter of kittens with a cat who was little more than a kitten herself... Mama.  

There were four kittens in my shop for over two months. 

They were successfully trapped by Kitty Cat Connection and went on to barn homes of their own.  Mama was ear tipped and neutered and returned to me, and lives here happily in the shop. 

Jax and I were able to finally clean the shop up again.  (We need to do it again!) 

Doug, the Killer Cotton Ball, styling by the morning glories on my henyard fence in August. 

August 28th, the sheep were pulled as the pasture grass was worn out from the drought. 

They had stayed until early October the two years before. 

In September, I went to Garnett to see my other little great grand, 

Aurora Jane Rose. 

She will be two in May. 

September was also the month that this guy came here... Buddy, whom I also call Big Dog, or Moose.  He was found astray in our county and turned over to Animal Control, thank heavens, because he was starved and road-beaten.  He has stayed here, and has gained forty pounds.  He is the German Shepherd who does not bark!  

He was estimated at over ten years old, which is old for a GSD. 

In October, Wanda started living in the big hen house full time. 

I lock her up every night with the birds, and she does fine in there.  In fact, I was so grateful to know she was warm and dry during the cold spells. 

She has her meals in there, too, and there is a heated water bowl for her. 

She actually sleeps in a kennel at night in a deep bed of straw.  Since there are hardly any eggs being laid now, she has her run of the nest boxes.  She has also gone from wanting to kill me to being a regular purr machine and talking as soon as she sees me in the morning. 

In November, I started seeing these guys regularly...

Notice it is still daylight...

The feeder is no longer in the pasture, and I'll explain why in a minute. 

It was originally put there because I began seeing another cat. I believe now that that cat, whom I call Alien... has a home nearby, because he disappeared during our recent brutal cold snap, and reappeared after. 

I still have chicken carcasses from Sam's to dispose of... and they are going in the north fence line. 

I saw skunks come to the feeder, which I had not seen for years here.  I also saw possums and raccoons and frankly, I don't need to draw any more of them. 

There was still a bit of color in November, but we did not have a glowing fall because of the lack of moisture, I think. 

I had made a decision to have my cataracts removed, and those operations were (foolishly) scheduled for December 7 and 14.  Friends, I did not go into this with enough information. 

I listened to friends who had had it done and loved the results. 

The surgeon explained to me twice that I could have one eye "long" and the other eye "short" and I told him I could wear eyeglasses for close up.  

I did not realize that I would have to actually wear glasses in bed as I read at night (which I have always done) or to even look at my phone during the night if awakened. They hurt my nose... that is all I am going to say. (laying on them in bed).   I have readers all over the small house now so I can reach for them.  

I hate what I did to my eyes. They feel gritty all the time, and you cannot rub them.  I am using the eye drops, which will end in another week... and my eye doctor told me to use eye drops regularly... but I notice last night on the Visine bottle there are warnings against this. 

I see my own eye doctor again on Wednesday, I had a truncated appointment last week but found out that I can wear contacts that provide that "near" and "far" sensation.  The other alternative is to wear glasses full time and have one eye near and one eye far.  

I really screwed myself up.  

As far as "far" vision, I can see clear over to the hen houses and see what is going on on the porch of the big hen house. 

I urge anyone trying to make this decision to get all of the information before doing it.  

On the camera in the shop, I have been getting pictures of a few animals that are going in there at night. 

Oddly enough, there are not hordes of animals going in there.  This big raccoon is one, a large possum is one, 

and this skunk. 

There it is, caught on camera on the 17th. 

Friday morning, the 30th... I found it here... 

It is between the big and little hen houses, and there is a burrow right behind it. 

I believed, when I found it, that it could be diseased and I was immediately afraid of rabies or distemper.  I called the largest local wildlife rehabbers and got no help from them, not even a name to call.  I tried the sheriff's dept, and to be fair, a deputy did return the call... and then mumbled he would try to get the ACO to call me.  

I prevailed upon two friends, who did not want to shoot it. 

It suffered all day long, I checked on it many times.  

In the above picture, it was still able to raise its tail a little. 

As the day wore on, I realized it was not diseased, but was the same skunk as on camera in the shop. 

By late afternoon, it was barely alive, and I lacked the courage to take a shovel and put it out of its misery, I am such a coward.  I could hardly sleep that night.  

I sent some pictures to a friend who is an ACO in Texas and he said it did not look diseased. 

We think now... I think... that it was hit by a car on the road just out of sight behind it... and dragged itself up the bank to the closest burrow, which was under the little hen house. 

Four of those hens and Doug did not come out that day... and their house still smells of skunk, but I have the windows open. 

Thank God, yesterday morning I found it dead.  I picked it up and put it into a bag and carried it down to the woods and put it down there. 

I am going to get a burn barrel where I can burn anything suspect in it, but this skunk was clearly in good health ... and as confirmation, there have been no skunks on the shop camera in the last three nights. 

It broke my heart. 

I forgot to check if it was male or female, and skunks breed in May and June, so I was not worried about babies.  However....skunks also have very short lives in the wild, usually two to three years, like opossums.  

On the way down to the bottom of the pasture, I stopped to look at the possum that died four weeks ago in the dog house in my garage. 

Almost untouched.  Incredible. 

You can sure tell the vultures are gone for the winter, and the coyotes are spoiled. 

And so, another year has passed. 

I am the last of my nuclear family, though I have first cousins who gathered around our family table, but it is at the holidays that I miss them the most, when I think of those happy times of past years. One of my cousins sent me a card that read "I miss those happy days at 240" (our family address).  I do, too. 

We had a quiet Christmas this year with members of the family being affected by RSV and flu... and I am trying to stay away from anyone sickly.  

I enjoy being at home, I am one of those "weird" people... who is happy in my own patch.  I am going to spend this afternoon looking at seed catalogs... just because I am not starting anything does not mean I am not planting.  I had one big planter devoted to herbs the last two years, and that is being dug out and flowers going in.  I am going to sit myself down with the Burpee catalog this afternoon and dream of summer. 

I am looking forward to another year volunteering at the National Agicultural Center  and I am grateful to all of my friends there.... Wayne, Judy, Marsha and all of you who have helped me this past year.  

I cannot emphasize enough that volunteering is needed and so good for the soul! 

I did not hear many concerts this year... pandemic times stopped so many tours and my favorite groups did not come here.  There were a few I regretted not seeing. YES was back, but not close enough for me to get to.  Leaving this place is hard for me now. 

Jester, Zoey, Buddy, and all the kitties of Calamity Acres join me in wishing you the best of Happy New Years! 

Thank you for continuing to read this blog. 

Cold Weather and a Return

I remain resolved to try to post more often in this new year!

We are one month from Christmas, can anyone believe it? 

Let's get right onto it. 

This first picture is someone who brought a smile to my face, and my heart sang. 

This is my beautiful Rusty, the cat from the header. 

He looks in great shape, doesn't he?

I had not seen him in four months, and last week, I caught him on the deck camera. 

I was so relieved, and then was "rewarded" with this additional picture of him on the twenty-third. 

My theory is that when the females came from Kitty Cat Connection, Rusty gave up and departed. 

I nearly cried when I saw him last week.  

He actually came from Kitty Cat Connection four years ago, with his three siblings, as kittens. One by one, they disappeared.  I thought he had, too. 

But you know what?  Now that I stare at this picture, as I type... I am no longer sure this is he. 

The face looks too narrow, but... I am going to look at the many pictures I have of him to be sure. 

This cat, with a collar, and in great flesh, appeared Sunday night. Remember, that basin is heated. 

I pick up the cat food most nights, except when it is really frigid, and then I leave it down, because the raccoons and possums generally den up. 

I don't know this cat.  

This is the only swinging feeder I have left.... I have not had to fill it except once or twice a day, however.... for some reason, I had to refill it at least six times yesterday and today.  I finally went out there and taped it to the shepherd's hook so it will not swing.  I had so many of these feeders, but they are so wasteful... I wasted pounds of birdseed last winter.  It's far too expensive to waste this year. 

A 40 pound bag of Back Yard Blend has gone from 18.99 at this time last year, to 33.95.  I have all the feeders stored in the shop now. 

I put sunflower chips in this feeder, the most expensive of the feeds.  

Yes, it was horridly cold. 

Here is Wanda, in the big hen house.  She has made her bed in there for the last three nights. I believe Cleo, who normally sleeps rough, has run her out of the shop.  Cleo has been sleeping inside since the really cold weather hit.  

Wanda has a bad eye, and I know it looks bad here, but it is actually open when she is up and about. I am studying about how to catch her, and have talked to a local vet about her being treated there. 

Unfortunately, I was going to let her live in there... I put soft fresh straw in the nest yesterday... but this morning, as I walked out to open up... I caught her going after the old hens with mal-intent.  She was ushered out.  

There are enough mice in there that the hens should not be enticing... I suspect she was playing, but it looked rough. 

Cleo, the Queen of the Shop. 

She lets the others know it, too. 

Bullseye's work.  Remember, he started out feral in the woods. 

I have been keeping him in as much as I can, and I believe tomorrow I am going to get him a collar with a bell on it, one that can be heard by anything he is after. 

Sorry for the gore, but it's a fact of life in the country. 

There are thirty or more cardinals eating here right now, and I hate to see any go down to the Killer. 

There was another possum on the Kuranda bed... and you can just see Coco's head in the deck chair in the middle of the picture.  That is an electric heater in the middle, and I have to say that it is making the shop livable for the cats ... the possums are just visitors (I think).  In this sequence, Coco's head came up every once in a while as she made sure the possums were not bothering her. 

You can see where they have been drinking out of the heated basin in the front of the picture. 

I took this through the window last week... I felt so sorry for the birds and squirrels.  On days like this, I don't let the chickens out at all.  I hate going out, the older I get, the more I dread the cold, I admit it. 

Also staying inside in the bitter cold. 

That heater looks like it is right on the bed, it is not.  

Zoey has been in front of it all day today, and Jester is with me here in the office. 

It is 24 as I type this.  It was 52 yesterday.... go figure. 

The Killa better be glad I love him. 

Starliings gotta eat too. 

I would like them better if they didn't poop all over everything... but... I have to admit to you that I am not getting them this year in the hordes of years past. 

I watch this redtailed hawk at the bottom of my pasture every day, he is watching one of the ponds on the Spehar's property.  I always want to to tell him to turn around, there is a cornucopia of birds in my yard just behind him... but he always watches the pond and looks so cold and lonely. 

These guys love Back Yard Blend, though. 

So do these, and they were waiting for their turn. 

Hoping she was not The One. 

I caught these beauties up in the walnut tree. 

So grateful I foster failed.... again. 

And so grateful for this old guy, who has been accepting of everything and everyone that has come into this house in the last five years.  He's my doll, and my big buddy.... Jester. 

He is the last pet Keith and I had together.  

That smile on his face is for real. 

Comparing the two... it's Rusty. 

So relieved, I can't tell you how much. 

I'm putting food in the pasture feeder again at night, just in case. 

He's eating good somewhere, though.  

Stay warm, friends. 

Spring is in 54 days! 

 

Words from the Wise

There won't be a picture with this story, but I hope you will read it anyway. 

Many of you know my late husband was an Army officer who served 24 years. 

He has been gone almost five. 

I still shop at the Commissary and PX at Fort Leavenworth, our closest post. 

Because of the pandemic, I felt so much safer, because no one but card carrying members could shop there for the year of the pandemic, and you had to show your card to get in.  Everyone was masked, and the stores were cleaned constantly.  I felt safe. 

On Wednesday, I went up to do my weekly grocery shopping.  I do supplement with some things from other stores, but I do my main shopping at the Commissary.  For those of you who are not familiar, the baggers at the Commissary are not employees, but independent people who bag your groceries and accompany you to the car and unload them for you.  When Keith and I first married, we shopped at a tiny Commissary at Great Lakes Naval Air Station, because he finished out his enlistment in Illinois. I asked Keith at that time (2003) what I should give the baggers who helped me, because you are expected to "tip" them for their services. 

Keith told me the "going rate was 25 cents a bag".  I was surprised, but that is what I stuck to for a time. 

Anyway... I try to be generous with the baggers at Fort Leavenworth, because they make my life so much easier.  They are a mixture of young and older people, some native born Americans, some spouses who came here with their husbands from other countries.  I am friendly to all, and also to the check out people and they look out for me, they all know I am diabetic and they have actually run and gotten me orange juice when I stupidly have not eaten enough.  

One bagger who has helped me frequently is from Japan originally.  She lives in Leavenworth, and like me, is widowed.  We visited as we walked to the car on Wednesday, and we talked about our gardens and how they were doing in the middle of this heat we have been having.  In the course of the conversation, we talked about how much we both liked to mow grass.  I told her I had a riding mower, and I loved riding and mowing.  She told me she had a push mower.  We both confessed that sometimes we were NOT pleased to be out cutting in the hot weather, and laughed. 

She is 84 years old. 

EIGHTY FOUR YEARS OLD. 

I immediately said a prayer that I would still be cutting grass at 84. 

Here she was bagging and hauling my groceries for me. 

I guess I could say that I will not let her do it any more, because... my gosh... but... she obviously feels good and is staying active and wants to earn the money.  More power to her! 

We should all be so lucky. 

Here is Wanda early this morning, she is still doing so well.  I surprised her in my shop the other day, and she fled out the hole in the wall, so I know she knows where to take shelter.  There is food in there for her. 

Cleo, the cat I had after Wanda, has been nowhere to be seen. 

I let her loose on Friday, and my neighbors are looking for her on their cameras, too. 

Cleo.  

Cleo came from the same colony as Tessa, who escaped from the LRHH. 

They were true ferals, have been neutered and had shots.  

She was like this for two weeks. 

I am praying that this is her, early this morning, because it means she knows where the food bowls are. 

They are full all day long. 

And here is faithful Rusty, two days ago. 

The computer I am using is a desktop model, and is now almost seven years old, it was 

Keith's when he died.  He had hardly used it, and it had plenty of space on it (pictures) so I used it when mine kicked the bucket.  Last fall, I believed it to be faltering and bought another HP desktop, which is still in the closet.  I have GOT to make myself sit down and put all the pictures on a hard drive to save. 

This one is beginning to fail, though it is not full... but I don't want to get up and find all the photos gone one day because I didn't save them. 

And then, when I think about it... who on earth will look at those pictures once I am gone? 

This small swinging feeder is my only one left of this type, and the finches love it. 

The bigger birds rarely bother it, it hangs on the deck where I can see it all the time.  The chickens 

clean up what spills under it.  I won't have any more swinging feeders because of the amount of feed that was wasted last winter.  I keep this one pretty clean, taking it down daily and using a brush to get everything out.  If it rains, I dump it in a bowl, and make sure it is not wet. 

I'm rewarded with the gold and purple and house finches. 

I'm cleaning the hummingbird feeders almost daily now, too, because of the humidity. 

Be sure to check for black mold on yours, even on the little foot rests... it can kill the hummers fast. 

I have literally never seen as many cottontails as I have seen this year.  Some are not even 

that afraid of me.  They are out in the yard day and night, and I am scared Molly will get one. 

Right now, there are babies all along the road. 

The "June candles"... yucca... have been beautiful this year, but are already beginning to fade. 

The little house.  

I did not have the flag flying, because we had light rain off and on yesterday. 

Ooops... there is that broken storm door hanging open.  I actually have a company who will be coming to fix it, but they were very backed up, and my small job is down the list.  I will have to replace it again, a windstorm completely broke it.  It was just put on in December.  

I am going to contact the company this week and see what time frame we are expecting. 

My faithful boy, Jester, my last dog.  He has just been the most wonderful companion, and he and Molly get along great.  Jester could get along with ANYTHING, I am convinced.