In Which Things go Bump in the Night

As the days grow longer,

The cold grows stronger.

quoted by my Great Grandfather,

Nebraska farmer

Good Grief! I hope all words and no pictures don't make solb too dull an old girl! I've been approaching my problem from different angles. The good news is that, after a lot of routine maintenance and getting rid of all but my Microsoft toolbar, the efficiency of my computer has improved. Cable One has been out here at least three times in the last few months, but Owl, Tigger, Eeyore, and I are still experiencing slow Internet service and I think that's where my problem lies. Something needs to be fixed rather than patched up. I called asking to speak to the head person in dispatch, but she didn't return my call. I will try again today to discuss the on going problem with her. She can send a patch-it-up-again tech or a track-down-the problem-and-fix-it tech. She has a lot of power.

Like all Arizonians, I've been thrilled to have actual precipitation! But I seem to be getting maudlin with old age as I keep thinking about all the poor creatures trying to stay alive in the bitter cold.
Although there are a number of better roosting places here, including some old horse stalls, the peacock insists on sleeping totally exposed on the roof peak of the little guest house/empty rental in back. By dawn's early light, we peer out the kitchen window to see him painted frost white or encased in ice, enduring still.

The other night, we were side by side in our recliners watching a DVD of the set-in-Scotland series Hamish Macbeth (could any of us, when young ever imagine becoming such stereotypes?) , when it sounded as though someone was repeatedly trying to force open the side door of the house. E. put a finger to his lips and quietly padded into the bedroom returning with his pistol. In the near half century I've known him that's the first time I've ever seen him do that.
I followed close on his heels as he went to the door, flipped on the outside light, and peered out. Nobody. He opened the door and there were about five Javelina milling about under the bird feeder picking up spilled seed and knocking over nearby pots of plants.
We keep seed in one of those big plastic containers that doubles as a bench and I think they must have been rooting at that, banging it against the house. They looked pathetically hungry and sad, and it took a lot of will power on my part not to put food out for them. I know that feeding them now would bring them back in the summer to munch my tomatoes and flowers, so I resolutely turned my back on them, but still....
Ahh..right now, through my window, I see blue skies thinly hazed by swirling pinkish clouds. A new day's promise...