Family Trapped at Home in Snowstorm, Eats Books to Survive!

Okay, so we weren't actually snowed in. Life would have been easier if we had been stuck, though. This was the most snow we've had in a few years, and it was WAY above our normal accumulation. There was snow, and some ice, and then a lot more snow, and it didn't go away in two days.

It was beautiful. Really beautiful. Except if you had to drive or walk anywhere. (Two of these photos were taken at the library, the other from the safety of my living room.) Then, it could be downright scary. The last couple of days, the snow was turning into slush. Twelve inches of mucky slush. Try to drive your compact car through that!

The worst time I had was when my car's anti-skid feature was activated. I had shoveled down to bare dirt, and all I had to do was move my tires about six inches to grab it. No. No. No. The moment the wheels began to slip, power was shut off and they wouldn't turn. Remember back in the old days when you could spin your wheels and dig down to solid ground? Sure, it made a huge mess, but it worked.

Yes, there is a button next to my gearshift that would have disabled the anti-skid device. No, I didn't think about it in time to use it. I just kept playing around, driving sideways on the packed snow, digging around the tires some more, until I finally got the car moving.

I felt like such a girl. But I'll do better next time. Just enjoy the pictures and forget these words, okay? Thanks.

One of My Favorite Things

When the ground looks like this, the birds come a-running to my feeders.

All right, not running. Flocking? Whatever, they love a free lunch.

I'd love to show you a "live" shot of feeding in progress, but my puny little camera phone can't do that. Besides, I don't think I could get any of the birds to sign a photo consent form. Anyway... I have two feeders. This one's in the back yard between the fir tree and the birch, and the other feeder hangs from a post on our front deck. It's great fun to see who comes to dine, from flickers to Steller's jays to juncos to black-capped chickadees. And starlings. And sometimes crows. Oh, and (I think) red-bellied sapsuckers, too.

Our neighborhood wetland used to be very large and varied, and salmon came to spawn. Then more development encroached, the wetland area decreased in size and scope, and I haven't seen a salmon in at least five years. The water levels had to be pretty high, though, and our little creek was often too little. There are owls and red-tailed hawks, and several coyotes, as well as many species of feathered things. Although I don't get to see everyone who lives at the wetland, it's wonderful to look out my windows and check out the birds. Rufus even knows what "birds" are and where to look for them. Blackie has never cared, even when the flickers peck so hard at the suet cake that it reverberates through the floor.

Watching the birds is something that calms me, takes me back to nature, and reminds me of that part of life that is less urgent but more important. Someone* once said,

"For this reason I say to you, do not be anxious for your life, as to what you shall eat, or what you shall drink; nor for your body, as to what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single cubit to his life's span?"

I need to be reminded. And, of course, that *Someone was Jesus.

In Honor of my Great, Great...

I came across this wonderful book at the library...

How many blog posts can I begin with that line? Lots and lots, and it's a very healthy occupational hazard! So anyway, I was checking-in the other day and this cookbook caught my eye. It's called Secrets of Cooking: Armenian/Lebanese/Persian by Linda Chirinian. The cover photo looks like something I'd be happy to dig right into, and I NEED to find some new recipes so that I'll be more motivated to cook. Tonight's meal... well, more about that in a moment.

There's family history that explains this unusual culinary choice. My great, great grandparents were missionaries in Persia in the mid-nineteenth century. My great grandmother was born there. One of her brothers returned to carry on the work after their father passed away. The little research I've done tells me it was an amazing thing to travel all that way, learn the language, and only return home after seventeen years. William and his family lived in the northwest corner of Persia, at a rather high elevation, in a city not far from a large salt lake. Perhaps the food they ate was something like the sweet chicken and carrots I fixed tonight.

Now, about tonight's dinner. I altered the recipe to suit my pantry and my family's tastes. When it was almost ready, I took a picture of the chicken, carrots, and raisins (forget the prunes in the original, please) and sent it to each of my sons so they would know to hurry home to eat. Riiiiight.

The decently appetizing photo above is copied from the cookbook. That's what the author's dish looked like when carefully photographed by her husband. My concoction didn't look quite the same... and my camera phone didn't do me any favors. One of my sons, who should remain nameless, wondered at first if I was showing him that our garbage disposal had backed up. But bless Peter's heart, he came home anyway!

It would be fun to write a book someday about what great, great William's life might have been like. I'll have to try some more of the delicious recipes in Mrs. Chirinian's book. Oh, and there was one more unexpected connection. The publisher (Lionhart, Inc.) is based in New Canaan, Connecticut. My great, greats were from Connecticut, as well. Is that cool, or is that cool?

Oh, and everyone eventually came home, and they all ate the chicken. Willingly.

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words...

...but it's no good if there's no one to read them. Several months ago, I reviewed a book about the presidents who have used Air Force One. It was a very interesting look at the presidents in a setting where they might relax a little. The photographic illustration I used in my post has gone on to live a huge life of its own, thanks to this fall's election.

My blog has had MANY hits on that photo of an airborn Air Force One jet. Unfortunately, my SiteMeter stats tell me that none of those hits have become Wise Dogs readers. Therefore, I have decided to change the photo illustration to what it should have been in the first place, the book jacket of Kenneth Walsh's wonderful book. This illustration is small and indistinct, which is why I hadn't used it in the first place. Oh, well. I'd rather have my blog's stats reflect the dogs' loyal readership.

Thank you, both of you, for continuing to come back and check the dogs' blog. They would thank you themselves, but Blackie's resting and Rufus is sleeping. It's been a long day.

Even Texters Get Wrong Numbers

Last Saturday as I was furiously trying to finish NaNoWriMo, I received a text message on my cell phone. Thinking it was from one of my sons, I opened it right away.

Aye do yu know the white girls lindsey number
(signed) The King

Huh. Somebody fishing for responses? Prank text? I ignored it and continued writing. An hour later, another text.

We have to go back to the libary and ditch myles. i dont want him with us
(signed) The King

Apparently this kid -- I mean, The King -- thinks he's texting someone else. I should correct him, but I think it's nice that he goes to the "libary" now and then. So many kids (my sons, specifically) never darken the door. I replied, trying to sound as cool as possible...

Dude, you're texting a wrong number. Good luck ditching Myles, I guess.

I mean, is it right to encourage this King kid to abandon someone? And will Myles be following them to the library only to be left high and dry, or are they escaping Myles by entering the library? Does Myles know the wealth of opportunity that awaits him inside his local public library? Forget this King dude, Myles! Go dig up something interesting on this rainy Saturday afternoon!

Who is this then
(signed) The King

Now I begin to wonder, is King texting a friend who's right next to him? (You've seen it. Kids text instead of whispering, right?) But if his compatriot is right there, how come King isn't grasping the fact that the buddy is not receiving these messages? I initially gave King high marks for using decent grammar and adequately complete sentences, and these indices inferred above-average intelligence. Was I overly optimistic? I'd better set him straight, anyway. I need to get back into my NaNo novel. Unfortunately, I'm still trying to exhibit my coolness...

Nobody you know. I'm a mom. It's unlikely we move in the same circles.

What do yu mean
(signed) The King

Yep, I went right over his head. If anything, maybe I sounded too cool at first, calling him "Dude" and everything. Poor King doesn't get it, and he's in the midst of a mad dash to the library anyway. I've distracted him and now he's flustered. Time to be direct.

Wrong number.

Sorry
(signed) The King

Well, King gets good marks here for concluding our conversation with an apology. He's not such a bad guy after all. Lots of people can't spell "library" without stopping to think about it, and it is a lot faster to type the two-letter "yu" than to spell out the whole word. Although, if he were using T9, wouldn't "you" come out correctly? That means he might have been spelling everything letter by letter, as I do, and that brings his score even higher.