Whirlwind weekend, whirlwind emotions

Thank you to all who shared your care and condolences over the loss of Brian's parakeet Sprite. She was a real sweetie, very bonded to my son – which is just what he wanted, a pet that liked him best. She wasn't her normal perky self Tuesday night, and I knew with depressing certainty when I had to leave for work late Wednesday morning that she wouldn't be alive when I got home. That evening Brian took her death much harder than he did either of the dogs'; together we buried her in the yard. And the house was quieter still.

So it was probably a blessing that the next morning, as planned, we all left the too-quiet house for a high school basketball tournament in Walla Walla, WA. Brian drove himself to school very early so he could ride the bus; Rick and I picked up his mother (who went along to visit an old friend in Walla Walla) and headed east down the Columbia River Gorge a bit later. At the last minute, Rick agreed to stop on our way to look at a litter of Decker rat terriers. I have been looking into the breed with growing interest since meeting a pair of brothers last May, but it wasn't a breed Rick is familiar with or attracted to. Lately we've been talking about our next canine family member without any movement toward consensus, which was depressing, and to add salt to the wound, friends were sending a flurry of ads, mostly for Aussies which Rick didn't want. Then, two days before we left, the friends who had agreed to do our farm chores while we were gone told us they were getting a Decker puppy from the breeders I had been following! Since we hadn't talked about the breed together at all, I was flabbergasted – and more interested than ever. This was the backdrop to Rick's begrudging agreement to stop and see the puppies, which we did. I knew better than to hope – or push – too much....

This is the one our friends have reserved. 

This is the rear view of her very similar sister.
I didn't get good photos of two others.

Then it was on to Walla Walla and basketball . . . and melancholy. Posting those photos of Brian with his bird and with Jackson were a forceful reminder of how fast time speeds by, and there we were on the campus that Brian plans to attend next fall. The reality of my single chick flying the coop soon echoed in the void left by three beloved pets in just three months. Yeah; I was a sad sack.

On our way home today, Rick waited until we were entering the town in which the puppies were located to say (again begrudgingly) he guessed we could stop and put down a deposit on my preferred puppy. Say WHAT!?! I texted the breeder to make sure she was still available, but also learned we wouldn't get to see her again or take any special photos because one of the resident children had the flu. So you'll have to wait until next Sunday, when I'm hoping to travel with our friends to pick up our matching set of sisters. 😁 Here are a couple photos of our girl (from a litter of five girls) from the breeder's Facebook page:

This rainbow over the Columbia River felt appropriately celebratory as we continued our way home:

With all that driving and game-watching, I had time to finish one color of J&S Shetland top and start another (the second is much farther along since I took the photo):

Two of my friends are starting to come out on the other side of the most difficult period of puppyhood with their dogs, so I have no illusions about the challenges ahead. But I know I will be building a special relationship as well, and look forward to that.

Thanks for being along for the ride; your comments mean more to me than you'll ever know!

That's it for now from . . .

The weight of a straw

A stem of oat, a tube of plastic, a tiny bird.
None of these weigh much; nearly weightless, in fact.

But on camel's back already broken by loved lives lost?
A handful of lemon-lime feathers, silenced too soon
Is a burden too heavy to bear.

Sprite

January 2015 - January 22, 2020

Happy New Year!

It started off with a subtle sunrise.

I posted those three photos on Instagram this morning and wrote: "Good morning, new year! I hope the lack of over-the-top drama in this sunrise is a good omen for 2020. #sunrise #newyear #ivehadenoughofdrama" Yeah, right. 😏

After a late family breakfast I headed to the barn to take advantage of the dry conditions for my one firm New Year's Day tradition – getting on the back of a horse. I've been turning Stella loose in the arena while exercising Lance the last couple days, so I did that again today. Stella got frisky, so Lance did, too. After "riding the whirlwind" for a bit, I decided getting off and lunging him might be wise, and started moving him around me at the end of the reins – too close when he decided to turn his butt towards me! Either I let go or he pulled away, and then to my shock and horror he took off after Stella with teeth barred and ears pinned! I ran, too, trying to cut him off or distract him from killing my filly, and eventually he got winded enough to stop, and then came to me when I recalled him. Stella was winded, too, but otherwise fine; my reins were destroyed but I have a back-up set. Now I need to come up with a back-up plan, because I don't want a repeat of that heart-stopped drama! So, no photos from my New Year's Day ride, but I did snap one of Stella (before all you-know-what broke loose) surrounded by pale winter sunlight:

Other snaps from today:

First green egg in over a month!

Pin-head

Fully feathered

Chuckie got hurt by something after Christmas and was feeling puny;

it's good to see him feeling better!

LOVE!

A note for all my Blogger blogpals: after a long time without problems, all of a sudden I can't comment anymore. It doesn't matter if I choose "Google Account," "Name/URL," or "Anonymous" from the drop-down menu; when I hit "Publish," my comment disappears into the ether! Please know that I'm reading and trying to comment; if anyone can tell me how to fix this, let me know in the comments (or if you're having problems, too, email me using the link at right).

Happy 2020 from . . .

Spritely Sprite

I've shared photos of Sprite in the past, but it's been awhile. (If you go to labels and click on "Sprite," other posts featuring her will pop up.) She's been Brian's special pet, the animal most bonded to him, since he bought her from a local breeder in 2016. Once in awhile he brings her into the great room, like he did Wednesday. Her wings have never been clipped so she does like the chance to fly around (I worry about her trying to fly through a window!), but mostly she stays on or near Brian. Watching her groom herself was so entertaining that I grabbed my phone and to record it,



then snapped some photos as well.

Earlier in the winter she sustained some kind of trauma while in her cage and I thought we were going to lose her. I picked her up and warmed her in my hands a few times, and would set her on a low perch which I had positioned next to both her food and water. Eventually she recovered, and has been much more accepting of me since then. I figure I'll eventually inherit her if Brian ever leaves the nest (he WILL someday; living at home indefinitely is not an option!); I do enjoy having a pet bird, and have had one most of our 34 years of marriage.

That's it on the budgie for now from . . .

...and round.

Yep, another snow day. However, Brian's handbell choir is still leaving for Washington this afternoon for a big 'do,' so I will have to drive him into town. If he doesn't get his rear in gear (it's an "e-day" for high school), he's going on the trip without his cell phone (GASP); that seems to be one of the few leverage tools we have anymore.

The wind died down sometime in the night and we only got a couple more inches of snow, but it ended up in a lot of covered places it doesn't normally land, like the chicken yard and our porch. The hens refuse to set foot in the white stuff, but there were tracks on the porch this morning:

This varied thrush was poofed-up in the cherry tree outside our bedroom window this morning.

The hummers have nectar, and the birdfeeder is freshly filled with black oil sunflower seeds.

I hadn't noticed how big the daffodils had gotten; they even have buds!

Brian brought Sprite out to the great room while he did schoolwork. She thoroughly enjoyed herself, preening, flying, and interacting with him and with me. She's a sweet little feathered jewel, and I was glad for the photo and video opps. I'll share just one image here, and save the rest for a separate, special Sprite post. 😁

That's it for now from . . .

Today's treasure

Brian's sweet little Sprite.

That's all I have for you today from . . .

Feral

• adj. Existing in a wild or untamed state. Like the lovely weed, Queen Annes Lace:
  
  
• adj. Having returned to an untamed state from domestication. Like this volunteer tomato in our pasture burn pile:

• adj. Of or suggestive of a wild animal; savage. Quite the opposite of these two (most of the time):

and definitely opposite of my big, bad (domestically bred and spoiled rotten) mustang.

Off to round up the feral dust bunnies at . . .