I minor skirmish.

This is a picture from last year.  Seems we once again have a bumper crop of grapes, and I guess the word got around.  So last night there was another bandit type visitor flummoxing around on the grape vine. 

Not for long!

As one of my sisters-in-law aptly put it a number of years ago,  “They sound like old men in over coats”,  so it’s not like I have super hearing or anything.

So I took to the corn broom and hose.    I think I did get in one good whack over his little noggin’,  but even that wasn’t enough to settle the issue.  I had to break out the hose. 

That was too much,  so he “decamped”. 

Of course, I knew he’d be back,  and I was just riled up enough to make sure I dug through my little “treasures” to find some sheet metal.  Hey,  I have lights in the shed after all.

There was no way I was going to guard a paltry few grapes for the rest of the night.

And yes,  I said a paltry few grapes,  but the little buggers make such a mess.  And it’s the principle of the thing.  My grapes.

Not much metal was needed,  and I found a handy dandy little piece I had removed from one corner of the house that had been used as a squirrel deterrent. 

Worth hanging onto.

There’s a certain evil delight in hearing the sound of little claws on metal,  all the while knowing that the grapes are once again safe.  Bwahaha!

Go away ye little bugger! 

Is that mean?  

You can judge me,  I don’t care.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

Sticks.  Ice.  All that.

It was a blustery day.

And pretty much still is. 

 

I got a chuckle when I saw the sign Daughter Number Two had drawn for work today.

(she works at a deli)

 

Being out that close to the water was one of those “hang onto your hat” moments.   

As it happened,  I took a little drive over to Bronte Harbour,  mostly just to get turned around,  and happened to notice something not quite right at the boat.

 

Not sure how the darned sail cover managed to work its way just about clean off,  but thankfully it had wrapped itself around one of the shrouds.  I saw no point in trying to wrestle the thing back on in the strong wind,  (it’s mostly there to protect against the sun,  and we had damned little of that) so I simply removed it the rest of the way and pitched it down the companionway (the hatch).

 

The thread holding the front zipper is somewhat pooched,  so it’ll need a wee repair job over the winter methinks.

I cinched up a couple of the sail ties, tightened the main sheet a little so the boom wouldn’t slap around,  and left.

There were some other folks there sorting out lines and bumpers,  and as I was heading home I caught a glimpse of the owner on his way to the slip.  I left him a message as to where his sail cover was.

 

There was supposed to be a “pursuit race” today, for which we had decided earlier in the week that we wouldn’t have enough crew,  so we weren’t planning on going out anyway.   

There were absolutely no vessels on the water.  It was a foregone conclusion that the race was cancelled.

There was only one other time that I recall,  at the tail end of Hurricane Juan,  when we were told to come off the water by the Coast Guard.  I also seem to recall that one or two fishermen were *ahem* fished out of the water that weekend.  It boggles the mind sometimes just how small the boats are that those guys go out in,  and also the types of conditions. 

You wouldn’t see me out there.

Today’s conditions were even worse than anything I’ve ever seen up to this point.   And we’ve been out in some pretty nasty sh*t. 

It’s called “experience”, most of which is bad.

 

Still liking that insert.  Just playing with slate tile installation ideas.   And yes,  there’s a Carbon Monoxide detector just to the left of that photo.

 

 

Thanks for stopping by.

Keep your stick on the ice.

Time to put away the flip-flops.

Or in my case,  sandals. 

I don’t think I’ve ever worn flip-flops,  and it has nothing to do with some sort of sense of propriety, but rather due to the fact that I can’t handle having that little thong-like bit between my toes.

 

We haven’t quite put the heat on just yet,  but we’re getting mighty close.  Having the fireplace insert has been a joy,  although it hasn’t quite finished “off gassing” all of the newness.  A bit stinky.

 

After a certain amount of study,  as well as a bit of guidance (even though it was somewhat vague) from a local gas insert retailer,  I was able to sort out the placement of the “fire logs” in such a way that it made sense,  and there were no parts left over. 

Always best when there’s no bits left over.

That little bag there is something called “rock wool”,  which I then stuck in here and there to simulate “embers”.  It does a pretty good job too.

Next on the agenda will be figured out the placement of the slate tiles we ordered a few weeks ago,  and which I picked up the other day.

 

Of course,  slate is notorious for not being very consistent,  so there will be a certain amount of head scratching I’m sure.  “Normal” tiles would have been much easier,  but since when have we ever done anything quite “normal” here at the Ponderosa?

 

That’s about it I suppose.  Just a snippet.

 

Bundle up.

 

Thanks for stopping by.