Back to winter

It's a grey day in Grey County. We got walloped on Friday the 13th with a crapton of snow. In Ontario, it seems we're two steps forward and a couple steps back when it comes to the winter/spring seesaw.

The war continues apace in the Middle East. Rob and I have almost stopped watching the news since the Trumpites eased restrictions on oil supplies from Russia. High prices are putting the squeeze on them, and they're shooting themselves in the face now. I don't think they'll stop until they've completely ruined everything.

But enough doom and gloom. It was actually a beautiful afternoon yesterday, and the snow was so wet, I couldn't help myself making a snowman. Okay, so it was a LOT smaller than the ones I made as a kid, and no fancy anything, but...

Hagar was looking regal swathed in a bit of winter gauze, and the spruce in the front lawn was looking majestic, per usual. Even the stumpy maple that died last year looked like it was standing guard at the end of the driveway.

The juncos were mighty appreciative that I filled the bird feeder.

We still have dozens of them, which means spring isn't here...yet. These wee guys actually migrate north in the spring, shunning the warmer weather for more 'comfortable' colder climes.

In town, the vestiges of snowfalls past plus the fresh pile from Friday made for some mountainous mounds.

We also had a bit of a wobble with our Bea. She stopped eating, started vomiting and her butt blew up into an angry red mass.

Thankfully, the lovely veterinarian in Mount Forest was on call yesterday, and he helped. Today, she's getting back on track with anti-nauseant and anti-pain medications. Plus medicated shampoo for her sore butt. Highly recommend Dr. Ashish Prajapati for his diligence and compassion. We know she's old and will be shuffling off her furry coil in the not-too-distant future. But for now, as long as she bounces back, she'll be murping and purring and keeping us company. Until next week. Gratuitous cat photo courtesy of Bea, who's resting comfortably and snoring in her wee rug cave.