Monday, November 10, 2008, 05:06
Where in the World is Gabriel?
So much for Indian Summer. A week ago, the temperature was in the 60s and 70s. Sunday, the high temperature was 30 degrees with a strong wind out of the west/northwest. The wind made it feel more like 10 or 15 degrees. When I was outside facing into the wind for any length of time, I could feel the skin on my face tingling, which means ice crystals were starting to form.
It snowed all day Friday here at Rural Route 2. It was the same storm system that brought several feet of snow and blizzard conditions to the Dakotas. But, because it had been so warm here, the ground was still warm and no snow accumulated Friday. Snow also fell off and on during the day on Saturday.
Saturday night it was still snowing. And of course, the snow was still enough of a novelty that Randy and I both went outside with Pixie so we could watch it snow. Later on, after we've had to shovel snow a few times and the temperature dips closer to zero, we won't think it's so much of a novelty.
Anyway -- while we waited for Pixie to wander around the yard in the falling snow, that's when the trouble began.
As we stood on the porch, I could hear our gray kitty, Gabriel, meowing. Gabriel has a very distinctive mournful meow, so I knew it was him.
"Raaa-oooo-wwww," Gabriel said. "Raaa-oooo-wwww."
"Where are you Gabriel?" I said.
Gabriel likes to go outside, but when the weather is cold and snowy and he feels sufficiently miserable, he likes to stay in the basement.
"Raaa-oooo-wwww."
"Gabriel?"
"Raaa-oooo-wwww. Raaa-oooo-wwww."
"Where are you kitty?"
"Raaa-oooo-wwww!"
At times, the sound was closer, and at other times it was farther away. But we couldn't see the cat anywhere.
"Gabriel?" I said. "Where are you?"
"Raaa-oooo-wwww. Raaa-oooo-wwww."
I looked at Randy and he looked at me.
"You don't suppose he's *under* the steps, do you?" Randy said.
We have set of concrete steps in back of the house. I know the stoop is hollow inside. The steps were put in when the house was built 35 years ago.
"How could he get in there?" I said.
"I don't know," Randy said. "I'll get a flashlight."
While my husband went for the flashlight, I could still hear Gabriel meowing.
"Gabriel?"
"Raaa-oooo-wwww."
Randy brought the flashlight and tried to look in the space, about an inch wide, between the house and the steps.
"Do you see him?" I asked.
"Nope."
I got down on my hands and knees, in the wet grass where the snow was starting to stick. I couldn't see Gabriel, either.
"Gabriel?"
"Raaa-oooo-wwww. Raaa-oooo-wwww. Raaa-oooo-wwww!"
"I'm going to get a bigger flashlight," Randy said.
While Randy was in the house, I heard Gabriel yet again. And something made me look up.
Gabriel was on the roof.
"Randy! Gabriel is on the roof!" I said as my husband opened the door to bring out the big million candlepower flashlight. This device really isn't a flashlight. It's a rechargeable spotlight. When my husband shines it toward the five-acre hayfield, you can see all the way down to the other end.
"What did you say?" Randy asked.
"Gabriel is on the roof!"
The gray cat was, indeed, up on the roof of the house, peering down over the edge at us.
"How did you get up there, Gabriel?" I said.
"I bet he climbed the cedar tree," Randy said. "Now how are we going to get him down?"
"What about the big step ladder."
I had used the ladder the previous weekend to wash windows, so I knew it reached almost up to the roof. Randy went to the basement for the step ladder. When he came back, he set it up on the porch.
By then, I couldn't see Gabriel.
"Gabe? Where are you? Kitty-kitty?"
Silence.
Randy climbed the step ladder and then scrambled up onto the roof.
"Gabriel? Kitty-kitty," I called.
More silence.
Randy climbed up to the peak of the roof to look around. No cat anywhere.
Just then I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was Gabriel. On the ground. Coming around the corner of the house.
"Here he is. He's on the ground," I said.
"Huh?" Randy said.
"Gabriel's on the ground."
My husband carefully made his way to the edge of the slippery roof.
"Gabriel's on the ground?" he said.
"Yes," I said.
Just before Randy climbed down onto the stepladder, I took a picture of him on the roof. I had wanted to get a picture of Gabriel on the roof, but of course, Gabriel was already on the ground. (Unfortunately, it was too dark and I was not close enough to the roof for the flash to illuminate Randy well enough, so the picture did not turn out.)
"Well," Randy said, as he climbed down the stepladder. "So much for that. If Gabriel's on the roof again, I'm not going to worry about him. Obviously he knows how to climb *down* the cedar tree too."
"Thank you," I said, "for being willing to climb up on the roof for the cat."
"The things I don't go through," my husband muttered as he folded up the stepladder again.
I can quite honestly say this is the first time I've ever seen any of the cats up on the roof. I suppose the cedar tree has reached a sufficient height now that Gabriel felt he could climb all the way up. Dad and I planted the cedar tree 35 years ago. It was just a tiny thing then.
Well, even though it was the first time a cat had climbed on the roof, with any luck at all, I'm hoping it will be the last. For a while there, I had visions of going down to the barn to get the tractor out to the move the steps so the cat could get out. So did Randy, I think. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Thursday, November 06, 2008, 06:07
Sultry
Ever since the end of last week, the weather has been downright sultry. The temperatures have been in the 60s and 70s. But what is really remarkable is the humidity. For the past several days I have worn sleeveless shirts outside to feed the horses. Sleeveless. In November.
The air has been so humid that the hills are blue and blurry with humidity. Highly unusual for this time of year. Usually the air is quite dry in October and November. But it has been humid enough that when I'm feeding the horses and hauling horse manure out to the hayfield, I have been sweating profusely. Sweating. And sleeveless shirts. In November. In Wisconsin.
Quite often the ground is frozen by this time of year. It's a long way from frozen at the moment. It was sunny for quite a few days in a row. Lovely weather over the weekend. Sunny and warm. Wednesday was cloudy, though. So far we have not gotten any rain. Only a few sprinkles. Thunder was rumbling in the distance Wednesday evening and there was lightning flashing. But no rain.
I'm wondering what this type of weather could mean for the winter. The truth is, though, that the weather could turn sour and the bottom could drop out of the temperature any day, and by next week, we could have below zero windchills. Only hindsight will tell me if this type of sultry, warm weather in November had any significance for the winter. Too bad the days are so short because if I had more daylight, I could get quite a bit more done outside.
I had an interesting experience Wednesday afternoon. One of the first ladies I interviewed about the 1958 tornado came to my hometown for a visit. She has not been back to town in 50 years. She visited the family living in the house where she was living when the tornado came through, the place where her little bulldog saved her and her children. The children wanted to walk up the hill to a windmill where they always walked with their mother. The little bulldog stood on the other side of the fence and would not let them go up the hill. The woman came and got her children, and they all safely made it into the basement just in the nick of time. The dog went to the basement with them. She was thrilled to be able to meet the family living there. And they were thrilled to meet her. I asked her if the house was still the same as it was when she lived there, and she said it was.
LeAnn R. Ralph