June 21, 2003

"It's falling!!!" A little furry ball landed with a muffled thump on the deck in front of me.  Oh, no!

I had watched this young squirrel leave its home--a usurped birdhouse under the eaves--and manage a clumsy turnaround at the extreme bottom of a roof plank.  An occasional footing missed, but always the tiny claws caught wood and balance was maintained. Then it climbed along the plank edge right to the roof peak, two floors above me!  As it gained confidence and agility, I marveled at how fast it learned.

Now the baby squirrel lay motionless....then it moved!!  It rose on its haunches and sat shaking its front forelegs.  Pain?  Numbness?  Was anything broken?  Could it walk? As answer it took shelter under a chair two feet from me.  Clasping its paws together, it buried its nose between them and began to whimper.  Or was it a sob?  My heart melted.  What could I do?  I dared not move for fear of traumatizing it further.  A puddle appeared under its haunches. Wetting itself like a distressed child!  Red appeared around the clenched paws.  Alarm!  Blood?  It began to lick its right paw.  "That's right, it will feel better", I spoke softly.  It seemed oblivious.  Could a tiny squirrel with a sore foot climb back into the nest?  Surprisingly, it scuttled from beneath the chair to run part way up the wall and take a resting position squatting in a nitch under the balcony floor.  Then Mother appeared.  After a communication of mewings--both disappeared down the wall and below deck.  I'd love to know what transpired--whether nourishment, love, consolation, scolding, or combination of all... whatever, the young one soon re-appeared, revitalized, and scampered the full height of the wall to the nest home.  I held my breath as it made the upside down, hanging from the back legs acrobatics necessary to get into the opening, and breathed a sigh of relief.  "IN."

More baby squirrels arrived and for a second four tiny heads peered over the nest box roof; then jostling and pushing they all disappeared into the hole to join their less fortunate sibling.  FIVE!!  My admiration rose, mixed with respect and some awe, for this dedicated mother who then arrived to nurse them all.

Over the next few days Ralph and I lunched on the deck so we could watch the antics of this growing and learning squirrel family.  One was of special interest--lively, agile, and as frisky as its brothers and sisters--we could pick it out by its red and swollen nose!

 

May 5, 2003

Little snow in January and February lulled us into thinking early spring when we returned from Ontario and Quebec at the beginning of March.  Two days later our winter began—a heavy snowfall that closed the Trans-Canada on each side of Golden for several days,.  Although this gradually melted, over the month we had continual fluctuations between sun and storm.  Regardless, mid march we could contain our gardening passion no longer and prepared soil and planted seeds for early bedding plants.

We now have windows full of plants in crimped cans—(we cut the bottom from tin cans, crimp the sides so that the replaced bottom is held)On pushing the bottom the whole plant with dirt is removed for minimal disturbance in transplanting.  After losing our entire beet crop to various critters last year we planned a new fence over the winter—one-inch chicken wire buried in the ground (gopher prevention?) and above this a high wire fence (deer prevention?) we HOPE!! Ralph has finished placing the cedar posts and within the week we plan to have the wire attached.  The deer have been taking due heed.  A group of five mule deer are remaining in the area; two of which Ralph surprised doing a walkabout of the new posts.  No footsteps in the freshly turned garden area—just a tour of the perimeter to check out the strange structures being placed.  Our one visible gopher of last year has been joined by a second. Each have their special place—the lilac bushes and the big stump.  They socialize at the log pile mid-way between.  We are in trepidation as to how many gophers this may produce in future but are naively? banking on the natural predation of our other neighbours—weasel, martin, and coyote.

By next week we hope to plant the root vegetables, and transplant the cabbage and broccoli before we make our spring trip to Vancouver.  We will enjoy the feeling that the sun is shining on our garden and new life is germinating.  We wont think about the fact that this will be the period of the full moon and past performance may foretell snow.  Be positive.!!

 

April 29, 2003

During April my spirits have see sawed; balmy sunny days that had me preparing the deck planters, then cold days when icy winds and blizzards blew down the valley  sending me back to stoking the wood stove and layering the sweaters.

We waited impatiently for the road to dry out so we could drive our car in.  A yearly right of spring is collecting the winters supply of heavy clothing and taking it to the laundromat before storing until the next season.  We needed the car, but one boggy frost heaving section persisted, made worse by water collecting in deep ruts, created by mud boggers who had been exercising their talents. On Thursday 24^th, Ralph, set off with his shovel to see if he could ditch and drain some of the deepest holes.  I was surprised when he returned later that evening with the car, “Its not good but passable.  “We’ll drive to Golden in the morning.”

Yippee!!!”  We can get to the laundromat!!!  I ran upstairs, collected and sorted the winter clothing and blankets etc bagged and brought the bags downstairs and stacked them by the kitchen door, the faster to take them to the car in the morning. …..In the night it started to rain.  Steadily…..then HEAVILY and steadily. Morning came late and dark with water pouring from the skies like I have not seen since tropical Hilo.

We didn’t go to town. Saturday, water started to drip from the ceiling in the bedroom.  On investigating Ralph determined rain was entering in an area which had been damaged by a fallen tree several years before.  The laundry still sat by the kitchen door.  Our weather often comes in three day periods.  Sunday dawned with wind and drizzle but clearing by noon.  The bedroom ceiling stopped leaking. We considered it good that the wind persisted to dry things out, and decided to try for Golden again Monday morning.  “We can turn around at the bad spot if we have to.”

We got through—and my six loads of laundry are now drying on the line off the studio balcony, protected against possible rain by the overhanging roof.

The downside—We have a roof to repair—and we missed by one day being able to attend my on-line opening with the Millennium Art Gallery on Sunday 27th.  Groan.