There Are All Kinds of Seasons

This morning’s sunrise over the Wolves was fantastic and heralded another day of snow – although we’re not supposed to get much of the stuff. Thursday brought us more than a foot. The crew that take care of the roads did a great job (although it wasn’t easy) and all the guys left on the Island with plows attached to their pickups were kept very busy.

I say “left on the Island” because we’re in the middle of one of the 6 very distinct Seasons here on this rock. Oh, we have the standard 4 which are distinguishable by temperature and foliage. Then we have 2 more, easily identifiable by population density. During a great portion of the summer months there are a gazillion tourists, and cars, and bicycles, and RVs, and 4-wheelers, and kayaks, and sailboats, and half-naked people in speed boats. This is what I think of as the “Loud”.

At the moment we are well into what I fondly refer to as the “Quiet”. Early in February the Island starts to empty. It begins slowly and then starts to pick up speed as fishermen and their families head for warmer climates. There are very few of us left. School Spring Break is next week and the last of those planning to leave will be gone. The rest of us take care of pets or plow driveways and (not so secretly) enjoy the peace. 🙂

My temporary boarders are settling in and since they both ignore the cats (for the most part) Fergus hasn’t tried to kill me in my sleep. Blink is coming to the conclusion that she can still roam around the house and cause trouble, although up until today she has been hiding upstairs during the day. I guess she figures having the big dog snoring is a safe sign.

I have found a couple of dead mice lately – one just this morning. I know that the two younger cats are the heroes because the older ones would still rather turn them into pets. I tell people that Ciaran is teaching his younger sister how to hunt – that sounds sweet and just the sort of thing an older brother should do, doesn’t it? The women reading this will know that I’m lying.

Remember Blink hasn’t been spayed yet. This means she spends most of her life PMSing. Poor boy, he’ll be sleeping innocently on the cat tree and suddenly have a wild thing land on his head insisting that he is responsible for all the problems in her life. Ciaran, in self-defense, has figured out that all he has to do is point her in the direction of some poor hapless mouse and yell Go! and she will vent all that hormonal rage on a target which isn’t him. Or us for that matter. It’s a win/win for this household.

Personally, I have no desire to go to Florida (or anywhere else, even places where they aren’t nuts). I don’t need hot weather – the heat from the woodstove is just fine. The snow does make me lazy though. Luckily I like reading books. 🙂

In any case, I feel that dog-sitting and standing guard on the Island in case of an attack by giant balloons is an important job. I mean what happened to that imminent threat? Have the few of us just been left to take care of things ourselves? Honestly, I would love it if any foreign bad actor tried to invade. I have a kitten ready to deal with them. 🙂