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Ramble with Storm: Frostie and Friskie

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stormtight.jpg Mulling things on my morning ramble

with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.

A crunchy crust of whiteness greeted the meathead and me on the front steps.

I'm not sure if we received that 1/10th of inch of snow or slush to officially count as the first measurable snow or not, but frozen slush or snow whitened the fallen leaves, lawns and fields on a wonderfully frosty morning.

With temperatures in the upper 20s, it reminded me of many mornings as a youth when I kicked out rabbits.

The grass, weeds and ground were frozen enough to crunch. I hoped to see the red streak of the resident red fox along the town pond, but no such luck.

There was a lightness to the morning, which I appreciated.

About 15 Canada geese sat on the town pond. Very quietly, which makes me suspect they may have been hunted on their way south.

The meathead lunged against the leash, feeling his own excitement. I sought to describe him and the word frisky came to mind.

Which brought back memories of my first real dog, a fox terrier mix I named Friskie. I found her while working at a greenhouse She was hiding in the shed where we stored wooden seed-starter flats.

It took me a couple hours to talk her out of her hiding spot. To my mom's credit, she allowed me to keep the dog. One of her pups, Trover, went on to become my favorite dog and a great hunting companion.

And just so you know how my mind works, Friskie and rabbit hunting are tied together because of Trover. When I hunted rabbits, he would range ahead and the rabbits would freeze in between us. It is quite the effective technique.

But I digress down memory lane.

I eyed the bridge over the neckdown with suspicion. Over the years, I have damm near killed myself on mornings like this by slipping on unexpected ice

But it was cold enough that the frozen slush and snow was more crunchy than icy.

On the back side of the town pond, the remaining hedge apples are being eaten by animals or simply falling apart from the weather.

Back in town, one side street had a couple long patches of ice.

Later, when I cleaned the car off for my wife, there was enough slush and snow that I packed a snowball, then ambushed my daughter with it inside.

So she and my youngest boy went outside with the intention of building a snowman.

There wasn't enough frozen stuff for that.

We march steadily into that cold time.

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6:30 AM this morning, front porch, couple of cups of coffee and a cheap cigar. Frost on everything, but better called ice. No snow stuck. No wind and the squirrels were running all over the trees. Of course, I can't get out till Sunday. Of course, there will be no squirrels around.

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This page contains a single entry by Dale Bowman published on November 11, 2011 8:58 AM.

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