Even as Charlottesville shakes the record snows off of her hat, there still remains some very dirty ice under her skirts. Never mind, this too shall pass.
It always amazes me how quickly winter seems to turn to spring. The cold and its effect on my brain cells create a despairing certainty that I will never be warm again. This year's record snows and below average temps -- 10 degrees or more every single icy day for 4 months I think -- really had me muttering about the effects of global warming.
Today is different. Today is celebratory. Today marks a full week of above-average temperatures -- by as much as 10 degrees. Global warming aside, I like it, a lot.
Yesterday we were treated to our first groundhog visit, the day before a hawk sat on the bird-feeder crook looking for a meal. Obviously not a very bright hawk as our bird feeder sits very much in the middle of an open meadow type affair surrounded by thick evergreen brush. Not a finch in sight naturally.
A large marmalade cat, feral type, spent two days alternately sunning herself and skulking around. It's been a very hard winter for the feral cats. Two feet of snow on the ground for weeks at a time does not make for easy hunting. And while we have a running argument with the neighbor cats about their finch-filching ways, I can't be mad at the wild cats.
As I watched the tabby enjoying the long-awaited for warmth, I noticed that she had something of a scratchathon going. Fleas? ALREADY? One would think a hard winter should have lowered the flea population considerably, at least enough to give backyard fur bearers a little extra time come spring. Nope. I'm guessing it took a mere 2 or 3 days of warmth for the madly hatching, creeping, jumping exodus of blood suckers to make their presence felt.
Since I rather despise my neighbors at times for allowing their house cats to roam around indiscriminately murdering our song birds, I admit to a secret gleeful expectation that a sudden explosion in the flea population will have caught them unaware and Tiger will ferry home an entire colony to be dealt with inside the house.
The point of sharing my diabolical desires is to remind all pet owners that flea season is upon us and it's time to be vigilant about preventative measures.
Now it's time to figure out what to do with all that dirty snow-ice piled under my azealias.
