Blog: Reflections from Rural Route 2

 

Monday, March 23, 2009, 04:38

On "Hollowed" Ground

The top four inches of frost has thawed out of the ground -- out of a total of six to seven feet of frost. Last week when I covered a village board meeting, I learned that the sewer main had frozen at a bank. The sewer lines are seven feet down, a distance that is generally considered to be well below the frost line.

Wednesday I started cleaning up a little of the horse manure piled behind the barn. The pile is still very frozen down in, but I was able to peel some off the top. I hauled out a half dozen wheelbarrows to the hayfield.

When I tried to stick the fork in the ground, as a place to leave it while I was taking the wheelbarrow out, it would only go down maybe four inches.

Thursday morning, the temperature was 20 degrees. And that's when I heard it -- a hollow thud-thud-thud-thud.

As it turned out, the hollow thud-thud-thud-thud was Isabelle and Kajun walking around in their pastures.

The top inch or two of ground had frozen again in the 20 degree air temperature. There was a couple of inches of thawed ground under that, on top of the very deeply frozen ground. Apparently, this combination of thawed and frozen ground produced a hollow drum-like effect with each step they took.

I'm not sure what it will take to thaw the frost all the way down, but it will be a long time before it all thaws out. Especially with temperatures in the mid-30s Fahrenheit like it was Thursday afternoon. Thursday was one of those bright sparkly days of high pressure and cold air. The kind of day where it looks really nice outside but the air has a definite bite to it.

It was supposed to rain Friday, but instead, it waited until the evening, and then it began to snow in big, wet, heavy thick flakes. By the time it was finished, we had two to three inches of snow on the ground.

Saturday I went to a craft sale as a vendor. Surprisingly enough, with the snow on the ground, it was very foggy the farther east I drove. And not only was it foggy, but there was frozen slush on the country roads, and in places, there was black ice. So between the fog and the slippery spots, it wasn't much fun driving. When I turned off one road onto another, instead of turning, I basically went straight ahead. Fortunately, there was clear blacktop on the other side of the intersection, so I didn't go in the ditch.

It strikes me that winter does not want to let go so easily.

LeAnn R. Ralph

 

Tuesday, March 17, 2009, 19:16

The Great Outdoors

The barn kittens, who have spent the winter in the basement after their spay and neuter surgery in late November, made their first venture outside Monday afternoon. I propped the door open for them so they could go in and out as they pleased. They explored around outside the basement door and over to the cedar tree while I cleaned up some slop in the horse pastures. Good thing I bought new rubber boots a few weeks ago.

Tuesday morning I propped the door open for the kitties once again, and they explored around outside for an hour and a half. I put them back in after that because if the basement door is open, I cannot let Henry, Katerina and Dora go downstairs, and it’s just too much of a conundrum to remember who is where.

Well, I got them all back in except Sir Thomas. Petunia, Rosie, Violet and Little Miss Kitty Kate (the one that's blind in one eye from an infection she got before her eyes were even open) were willing to come in when I rattled the kitty food container. Well, not Miss Kitty Kate, actually. She was frightened to come through the door, especially after I stomped my feet to keep the others back. She retreated under the cedar tree. I could tell she wanted to come to me but wasn't sure about it. Luckily, my big tom cat, Rocky, was outside and came to see me. When Miss Kitty Kate saw Rocky being petted, she relaxed and I was able to get a hold of her.

Not so with Sir Thomas. When I tried to capture him, he streaked for the barn. When I went down to the barn after him, he dove into a hole in the hay. I decided he would just have to stay out until he was good and ready to come in if he wanted to.

I went upstairs and started working on Rural Route 2 News. Gradually it came to my attention that I was hearing a plaintive, lonely yowling coming from outside.

It was Sir Thomas. He did not know where his sisters were and wanted to come back inside.

When I went to let him in, he became frightened and streaked for the barn again. (sigh)

It is amazing to me how cats who are under your feet at every step down in the basement don't seem to have the vaguest idea of who you are when they are outside.

I went down to the barn again after Sir Thomas. Little Sister was near the barn door, and Sir Thomas was THRILLED to see her. He dashed up to her, but Little Sister was not thrilled to see him. She hissed and ran off. I suppose she wasn't sure who he was. It is also possible that Sir Thomas is not Little Sister's kitten. He may be the old mother cat's kitten. She disappeared last fall, and I have not seen her since. I suppose something happened to her. Over the last eight years, she always spent the winter in the barn.

After Little Sister hissed at him, Sir Thomas went into the lean-to and retreated to the boat trailer. Great. There was no way I was going to crawl over rolls of wire, lawn mowers, weed wackers and other assorted items to get to him. I knew as soon as I tried, he would disappear anyway.

I went into the barn. Sir Thomas came under the lean-to wall and went up onto the hay. I stepped on the hay, too, and he dove into a hidey hole. So, I crouched on the hay, with my head near the hole, and talked to him. Sir Thomas moved a few steps forward and settled down with his paws tucked under him. I talked to him for a good five minutes before he moved forward some more. Then I talked some more. Eventually I was able to reach in and pet him. Then I was able to reach in and grab him by the scruff. I hauled him out of the hole and carried him up to the house. He was delighted to see his sisters and to get a kitty food treat. (sigh)

Petunia, Rosie, Violet, Little Miss Kitty Kate and Sir Thomas will be one year old on May 1. They have never, in their whole lives, been without the others. From past experience, I know it is going to take them a year or two to get to the point where they are comfortable without knowing where the others are at every moment. Cats have very strong family bonds.

I am hoping that in time, the kittens will move back and forth between the house and the barn without being frightened. I am hoping they will learn to ask to come inside when they are ready and will be happy to be outside and in the barn the rest of the time.

Perhaps it seems a little silly to be so concerned about barn cats, but then again -- I've got an investment to protect. I ran newspaper ads trying to find homes for them but did not receive any calls. I was delayed in running the advertisements because they were all so sick last summer that I wanted to get them healthy first. After their spay/neuter surgery, I got a couple of telephone calls, but even though the kittens were finished with their surgery and up-to-date on their vaccinations and I was willing to give them away to a good home, I still could not find any takers.

It strikes me that people who could save $200 ($300 if they got the cat from the humane society because there is an adoption fee) by getting a cat that had already been through the surgery and already had all vaccinations, were not really all that serious about wanting a kitty in the first place. So, good riddance, I say. Their loss is my gain. Petunia, Rosie, Violet, Miss Kitty Kate and Sir Thomas are very sweet and loving -- when they are not convinced they don't know who I am, that is. . .

LeAnn R. Ralph
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