Our winter weather has suddenly changed yet again. If there is one thing we have consistently around here, it's fog. People complain. On occasion, it even lowers our Bingo numbers. That's a shock. It usually shows up at night and hangs around until maybe noon.
As much as people complain, it is NOTHING like it used to be. In the old days when we drove to Bakersfield for Christmas in our 1949 something (I only remember it was gray) or later, in our 1959 green Buick, it was really bad. You've heard these stories before.
Today if I'm driving in fog and making a turn, I'll roll down my window, turn down the rocking cowboy radio and listen for cars. Oh ... and never walk under the foggy trees. You never know if it's the dew dripping or if the birds are hanging out above you.
The outside kids are still fighting over the fruits of their midnight scavenging. Most times they show up at 7:00 pm or so, then come back for a look see ... you know, just in case something magically appeared at 2 am, then once again at 6:30 in the morning.
Last night when I let Cooper out at 5:30, someone was checking in early. The early bird catches the worm and gets the last of the leftover turkey. I watched him jump up on the top of the six foot fence, knowing there is nothing on the other side to help him. I just can't believe these guys are like cats!
When he saw me, he froze. When I moved, he jumped down into the corral. These guys are something else.