It has been a comparatively calm week.
It began after I did a bit more pruning of the butterfly bush. One more session should have it ready for winter and a new spring. But this last thinning held a new surprise.
I’ve been told a fox lives in this neighborhood. I haven’t seen it, but monday night or early yesterday morning something found another stash of Paul’s leftover hair from the shearing his Dad gave him a couple of weeks ago and there was light brown/blonde hair in the street again, but this time with scat. Jennie, my neighbor who walks the circuit every day depending on the weather, alerted me to the new scatter and I went out to clear it away. When Jennie came by on her next round, I was out there sweeping and we compared notes. I had seen wet tracks between the area next to my back door and there was fresh scat on the trimmings which resembled some I’d seen on my back porch. I had thought those were raccoons since raccoons are nocturnal, but these tracks weren’t raccoon tracks.
Jennie told me about the local fox resident and took a sample of the scat (her dog Jewel walks with her so she always carries a poop pick-up bag with her) to show to her husband.
While we were talking, I spotted another cache of hair deep under the bush where I planned to prune next, so I cleared it out as well. Let’s hope the fox or whatever hasn’t hidden some away which will show up later.
Jenny’s comment was “Why drag the hair out into the street and then poop on it?”
Oh well …
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We missed most of the moisture from the off-shore low pressure areas. We did, however, wake up to frost a couple of mornings. So far no more snow.
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A nursing friend and I used to go to several Oregon Shakespeare Festival productions in Ashland years ago, before Libby someone (I seem to have blocked her name) made an effort to turn Ashland into Broadway west. After Libby, membership rose from the $250/year which was the price when I first joined. For that we had access to the members’ lounge and special prices on tickets and in the gift shop. All that changed. Prices for the fifth row center seats (which was our favorite place to sit) went from less than $50 to close to $250. Naturally it’s been years since I last saw a show.
There have been two or three artistic managers since the early 2020s. Libby has been gone since about 2005. In addition, COVID seems to have changed things. Maybe tourist income has dropped to the point that OSF management decided it was time to court the locals again.
We’ll see. I might be able to afford a show or two again. After all, the live in HD Metropolitan Opera productions in a local theatre in Medford are only $25 and they’re the best seats in the house.
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It is 0855 and a neighbor from down the street just came to my back door to tell me she heard from a local friend that there is a murderer on the loose in the neighborhood so she was walking the neighborhood to alert all the neighbors. The rest of the report was that early this morning there were police in the area right across South McCloud Avenue from my place, near what we called an auto court when I was a child, and shots were heard.
Her name is Heather and she is a caregiver for a neighbor down the street. She had a good-sized Rottweiler with her which she noted was of a “nervous” temperament. She also suggested I keep things locked.
As she hears more, or the local radio station has news, she’ll let us all know.
Stay tuned.
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Many years ago, there was a small Mom-and-Pop store just down the block from the Oregon Shakespeare Festival Black Swan Theater. It was called “Java Joe’s” and , of course, specialized in all things coffee.
They are the ones who introduced me to cold brewed coffee. It is smooth without any acidic components and delicious. I drank it for years. But my “Toddy” brewer failed to make the move into my new situation and so I called a net store and ordered a new one.
Then the fun began. I tried to use the Visa card I’ve been using for years and a twit, who sounded young enough to be my great granddaughter, said they had to establish that I wasn’t an identity thief. That conversation didn’t go well.
I wound up talking with the head of the PR department who got it straightened out after I sounded a bit weepy, told him how old I am, and had never faced this situation before. My Toddy was supposed to arrive yesterday, but no show. I’ll wait until tomorrow, and if it’s not here, I have an extension number for the PR manager.
I guess I have to wait a bit longer for my cold brewed coffee.
Oh well …
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After assessing my endurance situation, I decided I’m ready to resume some chore I used to do and decided sourdough no-knead bread was an option. A new starter is on the way.
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A cousin who is not quite my age sent me a list of laughs for those of who qualify as “elderly”. Here’s a couple you might enjoy regardless of your age …
Having plans sounds like a good idea until you have to put on clothes and leave the house.
and
It’s weird being the same age as old people.
So … ‘til next week …