Cinderella Who?

Smoke billowing out of the woodstove means only one thing: I’ll be on the roof with a brush in one hand a flat screwdriver in the other.

Today, I timed myself. How long does it take this little lady to do a man-job?

45 minutes.

Thirty minutes to set up the ladder, climb up on the roof, oops, I forgot the screwdriver, retrieve the screwdriver, back up the ladder, attach brush to pole sections, remove chimney cap, brush stove pipe, brush chimney cap and replace, ask Dale for the broom, sweep roof, gather tools and head down the ladder. (Deep Breath) Fold up ladder, put away the Bossman’s coveted Snap-on Screwdriver, breakdown brush and pole, and into the house to eradicate creosote from the firebox.

Thirty minutes. Not bad, though I don’t know the current record for such a task. Maybe I should aim at beating my time.

The 45 minute mark comes in with that tiresome piece of insulation lid inside the stove that comes out fairly easily but is a beast to return: this is what slows my time, every time. Argh!

Ah, I do this sneeze inducing task but twice a year, so in spring, I may implement new methods. Any ideas? Cinderella you say? Nah, we don’t have time to moon romantically over ashes!

A Working Alliance

Everyone here has a job and that includes people and animals. A couple of cuties that live on our farm are our dogs.

The first dog to introduce is Pallo. He is our head dog and guards our house and home. Rodents stay clear of Pallo because he digs moles and rats out of their holes, plus rabbits out of their burrows.

When I was four, I asked my parents for a puppy. They told me that I could have a puppy on one condition: if I gave up my pacifiers. I agreed and went and threw them in the garbage. But the next night I went and got them out again. I struggled for several weeks but managed to gain my pup.

When I began forming words as a baby I called my pacifier, a pallo and that is just what Grandma Grace suggested for a name; a pallo for a Pallo.

You are probably wondering how I got him. Dad found an article for a stray puppy in the lost and found area in the weekly newspaper. Dad told them it wasn't our dog but if they couldn't find his rightful owners, we'd make him ours- and so we did! After about a week, we got in the 'burb and drove to the area the directions in the ad told to go to. When we got there the people were waiting for us. With them was the cutest pup imaginable. Pallo has a good home now.

Libby is our Vizsla/Lab hunter. The Vizsla is a Hungarian pointer and the Lab is a retriever. She too, has brought in many a mole, however, birds really catch her attention. Though she has become accustomed to the poultry around the place, whenever we bring home some new foul, she 'babysits' you might say, carefully guarding the barnyard addition. Unfortunately, Libby's instincts get her into trouble and she's had to wear her victim more than once. Libby has been in causual training for the field for two years, so we'd like to take her out hunting sometime. In the meantime, her job is bein' cute and companion to Abbey and I when we're out land trackking. Libby came to us with one of her litter mates . We named him Scooter. Scoot lives next door with my grandparents. He and Pop are good pals.

Here is Scooter Libby and Scooter and Libby. Not a lot of resemblance but integrity is high.