A dart forth to seed-feed
Boomer called it: a snow day for everybody. Right on schedule, just before dawn, snow started, followed by brisk winds. When even the plows are called back to the barn, what can you do except enjoy the ride? From time to time, things cleared enough to see down to the shoreline; great waves!
Even son #3 received the call that said, essentially, return to bed. Nothing to see here.
I had a goal, and with breakfast cleared away, I moved stuff off the kitchen island. The great block of unstained wood served as a tableau, while I “painted” in oil with my fingertips. That was the instruction on the label… it actually went well, and I’ll apply a second coat just before bedtime. You know, because I can. New wood is thirsty, and this is a product that is designed to seep in and protect again people like me who cook with passion.
More gene-chasing to do, this afternoon. The easy part of my research is now done, and I’ve moved on to tracking the Acadians. Yes, the same people that were so elusive back in the Deportation saga. When a group of people are moved by a less-than-scrupuloust travel agent (aka the British military), record keeping suffers. I’m on a chase that could last a lifetime, should I decide to accept the challenge. I don’t have a direct stake in this story, so I’ll do what I can before finding something else to do.
Outside, the feeder attracted one bird during the peak storm period. He would dart out from under the front step, fill up on free seed and head back under cover. Definitely a thinker here.
