A Super Feast

The Pony came out Sunday, so we could make food for the Super Bowl. We are not football fanatics. Farmer H and I both enjoy watching the occasional game. The Pony has absolutely no interest. But it's the Super Bowl, you know. The name is right there. It's something special. An occasion we can use to prepare a feast of snacks. Farmer H even came home from his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) a half-hour early, in time to fill his tray before kickoff at 5:30.

We started working just before noon, since a batch of Chex Mix was in order. Not specifically for the Super Bowl, but because we all like Chex Mix, and the majority of my yearly four batches are given away. The Pony was a great stirrer! I put it all together, and then it was in The Pony's hooves, stirring every 15 minutes for two hours. Nothing stuck to the pans! Great job! Of course half of it was packaged up for The Pony to take home.

Our meal-time snacks were nothing elaborate. Mostly storebought stuff that only needed warming. We had quite the variety. Taquitos and Scoops tortilla chips, for which I made a dipping sauce with salsa and Velveeta cheese. Toasted ravioli and mozzarella cheese sticks, with marinara sauce for dipping. Wedge fries with ketchup or ranch dip (which I made with Hidden Valley powder and sour cream). Potato skins, to which I added some extra shredded cheddar. Little sandwiches of turkey and ham on Hawaiian Rolls, with an assortment of cheeses: cheddar, swiss, muenster, pepper jack, provolone. A frozen Bloomin' Onion, though it was called Petals, and was just the battered pieces. And Little Smokies in BBQ sauce, to which I had added some grape jelly for slow simmering.

Dessert was cheesecake, with assorted varieties, pre-sliced. Brownies and donuts, both storebought. The Pony took home half for later consumption.

We all loaded a big cafeteria-style tray. Of course with so much, I could only have one or two of everything. The Pony took a lot home. We will be feasting on sandwiches this week, after Farmer H finishes off the Little Smokies. I'll add one or two of the other sides, but not the entire feast for regular suppers.

The game itself was not very interesting. A bit one-sided, but the team I picked won. I didn't really care, because my dream team (the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, quarterbacked by Baker Mayfield, who was a star at OU while The Pony was in school there) was knocked out of the playoffs. No Super Bowl for them! Anyhoo... I picked my team at the opening kickoff, solely based upon my preference for the color of the uniform!

At halftime, we switched to watch the Puppy Bowl. Farmer H has not watched a Super Bowl halftime show since Janet Jackson had her wardrobe malfunction. That might be his criteria. If there's not a chance he might see something titillating, he has no desire to sit through a musical performance. I'm pretty sure this year's artist had nothing Farmer H wanted to see accidentally exposed!

I suppose our next feasting opportunity will be Easter. 

Puppy Prepping

The anticipation of a new puppy has everyone excited. Jack has a spring in his step, almost as if he understood when Farmer H and I told him he would be getting a puppy. I think about getting some toys from the pet section of 10Box, and making sure that Farmer H will get puppy food. Farmer H is planning on where to put New Pup.

"I think I'll block off part of the back porch, like I did when we got Grizzly."

"Yeah, that would be better than putting him out on a lead in the side yard. But make sure he can't get through the rail and fall! I don't think puppies understand depth like that."

"He won't fall through the rail! Grizzly didn't."

"And what about the water? If you block the back porch, Jack can't get to the water."

"There's two water dishes. I'll set the old one on the other side."

"That will work, as long as it doesn't freeze. Because the puppy will have the heated water bowl on his side."

"It will be fine."

"What about a house? You built that little box for Grizzly. But we used it for the cats, and the other pups, and it fell apart."

"I'll bring one of them doghouses from the other end of the porch."

"Those are HUGE! It's too big for a puppy."

"No. They're in sections. I can take a section out, and set the roof down lower. Then he can stay warm in a smaller house. I have a bag of cedar shavings in the garage."

"You'll have to clean up his poop! And he'll think it's okay to poop and pee on the porch. So you can't get mad at him if he does it when you let him free."

"He'll learn. Jack will teach him."

I really think Farmer H is the most excited of us all.

My Hoped-For Puppy's Kin

I suppose this pup was meant to come live with us. When Farmer H left the Mansion on Wednesday morning, I had no inkling that his travels might lead to a puppy! He got a call about a relative matter, and went to speak to that person. Who just happened to have FOUR PUPPIES!

I don't know if Farmer H asked for one, or if one was offered. He sent me the text asking, when he knew all along that I've been seeking a companion for Jack. Farmer H has always wanted a puppy. I think that's because he was quite sad when Lucky the rescue dog disappeared after a week (under mysterious circumstances!), and he wants one without a previous life to go (or be taken) back to.

Anyhoo... Farmer H initially told me that these pups were a mix of heeler and beagle. I am skeptical. Their heeler heritage is obvious. At least in three of them. When I saw the mom-dog, I began to doubt the beagle part.

I don't know all my dog breeds, but I don't see much beagle in her. Maybe the shape of the head. Or the the body. The legs look thin. The coloring is off. She may have SOME beagle in her, but I see black and tan, or maybe a mini-pinscher, though she's not quite svelte enough for that, with a coarser coat, and not the stand-up ears. The main thing is, I don't see PIT.

Here's the first pup Farmer H showed me:

I first thought that's the one I wanted. Then came the next picture. 

They are quite adorable. The one we're supposed to get is on the right. I said he looked sad, but Farmer H, who was sitting right there watching them run around, said, "No, he's happy." Then he sent a picture of the last pup.

That's the runt. I have nothing against runts. One of our best dogs, Grizzly, was the runt of a litter of eight pups. I chose him specifically, looking into their pen at the dog pound. He was a beagle/lab mix, midsize, colored like a chocolate lab, but shaped like a beagle. This little guy here is just not the one I prefer, because I like a speckled pup. He seems to take after his mother. 

Nothing special about these pups. They're mixed breed. Might have 57 varieties in there. But I know I want one, and Jack will have a companion. Whether he likes it or not!

Two weeks to go until my new doggie can leave its momma.

Forewarning Fizzle

With the tree trimming and wire running that's been happening along our blacktop and gravel roads, it came as no surprise that I got an email on Wednesday from the electric company.

The title was: Planned power outage in your area. 

A planned power outage is always better than an unplanned power outage. 

To keep you informed about changes that affect your service, we wanted to let you know about a planned power outage scheduled for 02/06/26 at approximately 1:00 p.m. lasting approximately 1 HOUR. The outage is necessary for safety completing emergency maintenance and could be rescheduled due to weather or other emergencies.

It included our specific address. I wasn't sure if this concerned the tree trimming with a man lift that Trimmer Steve had spoken about. Or if it was about the new transformer Farmer H said they had put down by Mailbox Row. I could imagine cutting the power for a man working along live electric lines with a saw. And also to activate a new transformer. I could understand both processes taking about an hour.

I set about preparing. To make sure I didn't want to leave for town during that hour, because the garage door runs on electricity. To take care of my bathroom needs while I still had flushing capability. To have water in case I got thirsty, because the well runs on electricity. To have my innernetting at a stopping place, because HIPPIE's battery is going bad, and only lasts to about 40% until HIPPIE goes to black screen, and comes back upon plug-in with another black screen suggesting to replace the battery. To perhaps plan my daily 30-minute nap at this time, so I could stay warm under the covers, since the heat would be off.

I kept an eye on HIPPIE's clock. At 12:53, the furnace stopped blowing, the lights went off, and I shut down HIPPIE. I had other things I could do in my bright kitchen, like adding up Farmer H's expenditures for December and January, to write up a bill for The Pony for Bargain House expenses. Fill out the tax assessment forms that have to be returned by March 1 or get a monetary penalty. Sort through the forms we've received for tax purposes, to see if anything is missing.

I chose the assessment forms, them being the easiest.

WHAT'S THIS???

The power came back on! It had been off less than five minutes! What in the Not-Heaven? I guess that's a good thing. But maybe it was just preliminary. Maybe it would be going off again. No rush to fire up HIPPIE just yet. 

I looked over the assessment forms to see what changes might be needed. That will require Farmer H's input. He might have bought more safes or equipment for his business during 2025. And we might need to change the trailer information due to the unfortunate demise of his old trailer, and the purchase of his new old trailer. I went to check the front yard. Nothing.

It must have been the activation of the new transformer that necessitated the planned outage. Seems like everything went okay. By 1:30, with no flicking or outage, I started HIPPIE again. 

That was almost a non-event.

Maybe, Maybe, Fingers Crossed

I'm hoping this deal doesn't fall through! I have been searching for a new dog for months. Ever since Lucky mysteriously disappeared, there has been nothing suitable to adopt. When there IS, somebody else always gets it first. Which is good for the dog. Not so good for me.

Here's hoping that Farmer H doesn't do anything to jinx this latest verbal agreement. It's kind of a family thing. There are four pups. Farmer H sent me pictures of all of them. And asked which one I wanted. Maybe my first choice was already spoken for. But this is the other one I mentioned:

See what I mean about knowing one of the breeds in the mix? That's a heeler, by cracky! A part-heeler pup as a companion for my little Jack. Farmer H said it's heeler and beagle. Um. No. He sent a picture of the mama dog. She's no heeler, and she's no beagle. Maybe a beagle mix. I might show the other pictures later.

Anyhoo... I asked the breeds, because take a look at those FEET! Granted, Jack has those sturdy digging paws. And he's not too big. So lets hope Farmer H is not too far off on this puppy's family tree.

I haven't thought about a name yet. I'll have to see him in person. Or "in puppy," if you will. Of course we will get him his puppy shots, and de-wormer, and eventually his very special operation.

I'm half-holding my breath until Farmer H can pick him up in two weeks.

Getting My Hopes Up Again

I was minding my own beeswax on Wednesday afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table with HIPPIE, when I got a text from Farmer H. It said: "Do you want this?" It was followed by a picture of...

A PUPPY!

I don't have it loaded on my computer yet. So a picture will have to wait. I was shocked. Of course I want it! I could tell half of its heritage right away. But I had to ask what kind. You know, to make sure it's something we can handle.

"Yes! If you think it won't get too big. Those look like big dog feet."

"The mother is about twice as tall as Jack. I don't think it will be too big."

Anyhoo... I'll get that picture loaded for tomorrow. Farmer H says he can't bring it home yet. But in two weeks. I hope the weather settles down a bit by then. It's not from a rescue, so time is not an issue. I hope Jack is willing to accept a little brother.

Mystery Solved

Monday around 1:40, there was a knock at the door. With temps back up to the upper 20s, I didn't mind speaking through a crack in the door. I found the Steve Zahn tree-trimmer guy on the front porch, with Jack wagging his tail and staring at him.

Trimmer Steve said, "I was here Friday, but nobody answered."

"Well, it takes me a long time to get to the door." Not that I owed him an explanation. It's MY Mansion, and I'll answer the door when I want to.

"We trimmed a bunch around the cedars over by that barn. We have the grinder, but want to know if it's okay to just shove the trimmings back into the brush. It looks like you keep the field mowed."

"Yes, that's fine. We don't care."

"Also, is it okay to cut over there by the road? It looks like some honeysuckle or something growing there."

"I don't know about the honeysuckle. There used to be blackberries over there. They'll grow back, won't they?"

"Yes. But it might take years."

"Well, we don't use them for anything. So you can cut them. My husband thought it might be about his trailer over there being in the way. He can't get in there right now to move it, but said you guys can move it with your equipment. But I know maybe you can't do that because of insurance liability or something."

"I don't know about insurance, but probably can't because our boss will say no. We don't need that trailer out of our way. The electric guys might. I'll pass on that information. Also, this area right here? In front of the house, by those sheds? We can't use our trimmer there because there's too much going on. The limbs might fall on the wires. So we'll be using a man-lift there. So we can hold the limbs as we trim, and drop them out of the way. You might have somebody else knocking on your door."

"I'd rather they not! Whatever you have to do is fine. We drive through the yard all the time. Just don't drive on that white pipe sticking up. See that? It's our well."

"Oh. I see it. I'll tell them it's okay to use the man-lift."

"And watch out, because there's a sinkhole behind those sheds. Not as big as the one out front, but when the snow melts, it's noticeable."

"Okay. I'll tell them about the sinkhole. I'm the one who saw the big sinkhole up by the road, and told them."

"I'm surprised you've been out working in this cold."

"It actually made it easier for our trucks, with the ground frozen. But we got pretty cold. A couple days, they sent us home early. We're not allowed to work below 10 degrees."

"Well, I better let you get back to work. But whatever needs to get done, it's fine. We have to have dependable electricity!"

Trimmer Steve gave Jack a few pats, and left. I really don't want any more knocking. 

No offense to Trimmer Steve.