stray |strā|
verb [ intrans. ]
1. not in the right place; not where it should be or where other items of the same kind are : he pushed a few stray hairs from her face.
• appearing somewhere by chance or accident; not part of a general pattern or plan : she was killed by a stray bullet.
• (of a domestic animal) having no home or having wandered away from home : stray dogs.

I am a sucker for stray and homeless things. I picked these two definitions from the meaning of the word ‘stray’ because I have both of them. One was outside but has now been brought inside; the other is still outside and not going to be brought in.

This kitten started coming around about a month or more ago. It showed up at our bird feeding station eating anything it could find that the birds left. It was just a tiny baby then, with the blue eyes that nearly every kitten starts out with. I felt so sorry for it! I checked my nearest neighbors and it doesn’t belong to them. I’m not certain if inquiring further down the road would turn up its owner or not. I am assuming he/she is feral because it’s very spooky. Yes, don’t lecture me; I started leaving kitty kibble out for it on the front step. I know, I know. Not smart. But, he/she is growing now and looking good. His/her eyes have changed to a grayish-hazel. I still can’t even attempt to approach it, but now it will watch me from a distance as I’m pouring the kibble into its bowl. After about ten minutes it feels it is safe enough to come and eat.  I fear for it during the winter but I can’t bring a feral cat into my house. Hopefully he/she will find a cozy, warm place to weather it through.

Here are my other “strays.” These begonias started popping up in the planting bed next to the front steps. They started from seed (somehow!) and I watched them grow daily. I’m not sure where they came from either as I’ve never had begonias around. This summer I had geraniums and vinca vine planted in the pots on the front steps, but no begonias. Just before we had a hard frost I went out and dug them up. I wasn’t fussy about getting all the roots—just plunked them down in some Miracle-Gro® potting mix in whatever pots I had that they would fit in. They are doing beautifully, and as you can see I have several colors!

Both my strays give me pleasure. I love seeing the little kitten coming around and hope that some day I can earn its trust enough to not have it run every time I open the door. My begonia strays brighten my day every time I look at their bounty of multi-colored blooms. To see them both growing and thriving is a good thing.

Yesterday a flock of turkeys were across the street in my neighbor’s yard including about three toms in all their splendor. By the time I got my camera they had retreated into the woods but were making such a lot of noise that I decided to film them anyway. So here it is for what it’s worth! Have a great day!

Thanksgiving is the time of year you either love or hate. I happen to love it. I enjoy making my own traditional turkey feast and having lots of leftovers. I have fond memories of childhood Thanksgivings spent watching the Macy’s parade while the heady aroma of roasting turkey filled our small house. I remember my Grandmother particularly liking the Shriners but I could never figure out why. They bored me—give me the floats and balloons any day. Of course, the parade has really changed since the 1950s. And so has my family. My Grandfather & Grandmother; my Dad and now my Mom—all gone now.

I carry on some of the Thanksgiving traditional food with Rick and I. Creamed onions, bread stuffing and Mom’s Pumpkin Pie. I make a different bread stuffing than she did, and frankly I think mine rocks if I must be modest. Even she admitted mine was much better than hers. But the pie recipe I don’t mess with. Why change perfection? This year I brought back two of her very old pie dishes, and as I type this year’s pumpkin pie is baking in one of them, sending out whiffs of cinnamon and ... well, pumpkin pie. I like to make my the day before to give it time to settle. yum.

I also brought back this cool vintage apron that I will be wearing while I cook tomorrow. Isn’t it great? I think it was my Grandmother’s as I vaguely recall her wearing it and not my Mom. It has a wrap-around tie and a button at the top in the back. The label says it’s a “Swirl.”

I am trying a new cranberry recipe this year, but serving it in one of Mom’s cut-crystal bowls that she always used at holiday dinners.

So, something old; something new. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving tomorrow, no matter how you choose to spend it!

The other day while Rick was gone I decided to get brave and try to take all three dogs for a walk at the same time. They were going stir crazy and so was I. I knew we had a brace coupler somewhere; I just needed to find it.

We usually exit through the garage door when taking the dogs for a walk, but the garage door opener switch is at the top of the stairs just as you go out the laundry room door. That wouldn’t work to get two rambunctious dogs down those steps, past the car and out the door while on a brace lead. Not unless I wanted to find myself skidding across the garage floor on my stomach. Opening up the garage door when taking the dogs for walk is akin to letting the horses out of the starting gate before the Kentucky Derby. And .... they’re off!

I decided to hook Hailey and Sailor up to the brace and let Alex have his own lead since he pulls more. To solve the opening of the garage door, I decided to open the car door and use its opener. Hey, halfway to the goal is better than nothing! It worked! I hooked Alex up to his lead after we got outside. And we were off! Come join us!

All went well so we’ll do this again!

The snow (not the frost) is on the pumpkin!

I woke up this morning to a strange, ethereal light bathing the room. There is nothing quite like the light on a morning when it’s snowing. Looking out I saw fat, sticky, wet, flakes drifting ever so gently past the window. Ah ... SNOW ... and a couple of inches at that.

It stuck to everything.

Trees.

Railings and fence pickets.

The windchime.

Even the clothesline, which isn’t easy to do!

Dogs.

Cats. (I must have the only indoor cat that can’t wait to sneak outside when it snows. eBay is one silly cat!)

As I stood outside in my house slippers taking photos I couldn’t resist lifting my face to the sky, letting the cold, moist,  flakes settle on my cheeks like a healing balm. Of course I stuck out my tongue and caught some flakes—why do you even need to ask?!  This Jersey Girl is a snow lover!

Now here is some snow for you. At the end, be sure and lift your face into the flakes coming right at you! Can you feel their wetness?