Peevish Pen

Ruminations on reading, writing, rural living, retirement, aging—and sometimes cats. And maybe a border collie or other critters.

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Location: Rural Virginia, United States

I'm an elderly retired teacher who writes. Among my books are Ferradiddledumday (Appalachian version of the Rumpelstiltskin story), Stuck (middle grade paranormal novel), Patches on the Same Quilt (novel set in Franklin County, VA), Them That Go (an Appalachian novel), Miracle of the Concrete Jesus & Other Stories, and several Kindle ebooks.

Saturday, December 09, 2017

Early Snow Pt. 2

The snow continued on and off all night. When I took Maggie out at 7 on Saturday morning, our world looked like this:


The front sidewalk was at least clear.  But the snow was deeper than last night—and it was still snowing.


The road looked clear, too.


Could a gimpy old woman and her elderly border collie be able to golf-cart out to feed the barn-cats? The driveway was clear, so we could go down it to the road if we had to.


Chloe was able to go out on cat-patrol. If a small cat could do her chores, maybe Maggie and I could do ours.


Having a basic grasp of physics ("Stuff slides down hill"), I figured I could go around the front of the house and turn down the hill in the side yard. This is how it looked when we were at the top of the hill (picture of snow on dogwood limbs taken while Maggie made a comfort stop): 


We carted past the dogwood and the big maple. The going down was pretty easy. Twiggy, Spotz, and Sherman were waiting for us, and they were soon fed. (Skippy had already been to the house to eat; Wilbur was no doubt holed up somewhere.)


While I fed and watered the cats, Maggie guarded the golf-cart and looked back at the way we'd come.


We left tracks from the big maple on down.


We proceeded toward the road, so we could get the newspaper before we went in. It was clear to the right . . 


. . . and to the left. The paperbox is to the left at the top of the road. No traffic was in sight, so we started up the road.


The snow hung heavy on the pasture fence across the road.


Hard to believe that a railroad—the old F&P—used to pass in front of the old Novelty depot across from my mailbox.


After getting the paper, we started up the driveway for home.


The snow-covered crape myrtles that I planted years ago provided a photo op.


So did the big oak tree.


I think Maggie was impatient because I was stopping so often. Taking pictures isn't part of our daily routine.


So, having accomplished what we set out to do, we headed for home.
~

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