Snow-printed

Still covered with snow although the streets are clear and the white is retreating from the yards at the edges. I think the icicles hanging from my roof have dripped away also.

Wildlife shows up in snow. We had a bluejay at the bird feeder. I thought cardinals were large until Mr. Jay hung precipitously on the perch and pecked at the sunflower seed. The squirrels visited too and no amount of thumping on the window glass would dissuade them to leave.

Snow gives us the opportunity to see just who is walking in the yard and to where. I can now trace the paths the outdoor cats take to get next door. Although why they were doing so when I offer food and outside shelter is quite beyond me. The people next door are tolerant; I am welcoming.

And writing of pawprints, our garage is a separate building, foursquare and with a steep roof. Rounding it are squirrel (at least I hope they're squirrel) prints. Up, down, around. Enough to make me smile, but not forgive the feeder raid.

Squirrel that one away!

Yesterday morning, I'm having breakfast in the kitchen, eyeing the TV and attempting to keep cat Pyewacket from confiscating my cereal bowl milk until I'm finished with it. Loud boom and all the electricity is gone.

We have, alas, been there, done this before. It's a transformer outside the kitchen window. Dutifully, I find the phone number of the electric company, unplug all computer equipment less there be a surge later on, and find the one landline phone which doesn't need a current to dial. Electrical provider gives me the number of the delivery provider and as I'm dialing, I'm recording it. Might as well skip that step next time.

Less than 15 minutes later, a truck is at the side street (must have caught them going out the door) and I have electricity once again. I bounce out to give my thanks and find the serviceman kicking something in the street over to the curb.

"You need a BB gun," he tells me. "Too many squirrels."

Ah, yes, our usual problem. A bit of bare wire or a particularly clumsy squirrel, whichever, but the result is the same. Transformer tripped and squirrel dead.

"I can't argue with that," I tell him.

"Know anyone's hungry?" he asked with a malicious grin. "He's hot!"

I suppose that would be flash-fried?

A poster child for my ISP

We have had Verizon DSL service ever since it was offered here. I have had very few, i. e. near zero, problems. Not totally trouble free, but over five years... near zero. I am happy. I would be loathe to change.

If you've ever signed up for DSL, then you know the drill: they're going to check your line to see if you're close enough to the office. Since I share a back fence with the local office (live downtown and you too can be zoned commercial), I was fairly certain I'd pass. That accomplished, we were in business.

Then last Friday night, the trouble began. My service became erratic and the light which should be steady on the modem would blink. And blink. For an hour. Then be steady. Blink. Not going to do.

By Sunday, with static on the house phones beginning, I figured that a new modem (my first choice to fix the deal) wasn't the answer. Alas, I had difficulty getting/staying on the line with customer service. I finally used my cell phone and after an hour of do-this and do-that (none of which worked), the patient customer service rep (he really was very nice) made a ticket and promised someone outside the house to check the lines the next day.

Monday morning, I'm waiting. Up drives William the Wonderful and checks the lines. He needs to check on the pole. A few minutes later, he's back. The problem is Verizon's with the lines. They need to be replaced from several poles back. Reason: the friendly, neighborhood squirrels have nearly chewed them in half. Tongue in cheek, I told him I regularly fed them so I just couldn't imagine why they would do that. He rolled his eyes.

Two hours later (did I mention it was drizzling most of this time?), the new line is strung and William the W and I are pinging my connection. A few hints about not stacking the modem and router and a strong suggestion to upgrade the equipment (I'll be calling next week) and W the W was gone.

Then yesterday, I read a article in the Wall Street Journal where the author was talking about the service from Verizon on lines. He too was complimentary. I'd like to think this was the norm, although I've heard complaints.

Here's to never having to edit this post.

My pear crop

After 25 years of growing, trimming, feeding, and coaxing our two pear trees into yielding pears--an act they do with regularity--I am happy to report that I--the owner of said trees--have finally beaten the raccoons and squirrels at their own game and picked a pear crop.

Twenty four. Approx.

One tree has given us big pears and one tree's are half the size. There are a few pears at the top of the tree, but absent a wind toppling them into my waiting hands, they will be gleaned or left to rot.

I had hoped to make pear preserves, my absolute favorite jelly/jam/condiment, but a friend informed me that as these were planted to be eating pears, they wouldn't make good preserving pears. And there are only 24 of them.

Bon appetit to me!

But what about a pie?

All trapped out

Since the triumph of last Sunday morning, I have been on a trapping low. I've set my trap amidst the pear trees three nights. I've baited it with fruit and veggies (health food for the incarcerated) and waited. Nothing. Not even a heavy breeze to close the gate. Each morning I've found the goodies where I left them, the door up, and the trap empty.

So, who's eating my pears? They still litter the ground in half-eaten state.

Just to make sure this was not a figment of my imagination, I raked all the pears together yesterday morning and carried them to the compost pile. By early evening, there were more on the ground, some whole (they just fell off?) and some with heavy evidence of mealtime. Ah ha! Since pears don't practice cannibalism, someone was in those trees. But who? Raccoons don't appear in the daytime. Squirrels? Awfully big bites for squirrels.

Therefore, I set the trap again last night and... no takers.

I may have to close up shop and harvest before I want to in order to get any pears at all.

Outwitted. Again.

Don't tell my cats.