What lies beneath the snow

[Leigh Costello]

Well, our first snow fell Saturday night into Sunday morning. 2.5" of pure white, perfect for snowballs. The snowy silence of Sunday morning, then Mass, then home again for bacon and pancakes and fresh blackberry syrup simmered to perfection. Ahhh... Then outside to enjoy the first snow of the season (which was considerably more than the predicted .5").

So, with gloves on the snowball making began-for about a minute. We have 3 dogs, 3 cats, 1 horse and untold wildlife that wanders through our yard. And they leave behind little deposits of their passing. Which can be totally concealed by snow, but discovered in many ways. Especially if I am walking quickly downhill to lob a snowball in front of my frolicking dog.

I slipped, I slid and made a very un-graceful path down the hill. And on my way down, I apparantly found some of the little reminders on my boot and, dare I say, my butt. But, no worries, I didn't smell anything and my dog wasn't saying a thing. Hubby and daughter were in the house enjoying Rams football;).

After playing with the dogs I went inside and let my four-legged friends in. I went right to the laser in the shop and began filling some orders. Then I smelled something. Nope, no doodoo there, or there or there or there. Must be my imagination. My boots were outside the door so couldn't be that. Still smelled it. Hmmm, where could it be? Lasered wood doesn't smell like that.

So I scolded the dogs for pooping in the house. They looked at me with their usual "who me?" faces. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I might have some on me. And boy did I! I tore off the jeans and tossed them out the door-I hate poop. And ran upstairs to get a shower and fresh clothes.

I like the snow, but not what lies beneath!

[Dennis Peacock]

Way to funny..!!!!!! Don't have any snow here, but it sure it getting cold and very windy. BTW, stinky jeans do clean up rather well. DAMHIKT!! :rolleyes:

[Dave Verstraete]

Leigh
Years ago, my wife and I were just heading for bed when we heard the plaintive cries of a cat outside in our backyard. We both looked out the back window of our house. A crisp clean white snow covered our backyard. There was our young cat sitting on a branch of a large maple tree about 20 feet from the ground. I looked at my wife. She looked back at me with a sad, puppy dog look. Needless to say, I pulled on my shoes (without socks) and grabbed winter coat. I went in the garage and took the aluminum ladder down from its hooks. I walked into the backyard and placed the ladder against the tree. The cat became frightened and climbed up another 10 feet. This was higher than my ladder would reach. I had figured on staying on the ladder and calling the cat to me. I reached the top of the ladder. The cat wasn't coming down. I left the safety of the ladder and climbed the rest of the way to the cat. I peeled the cat from the brach it was on and placed it inside my coat to cling to me. Its tiny claws penetrated my skin, but I remained focused. I wasn't falling out of this tree. I reached the ladder and began descending. What a relief! I noticed that the ladder rungs were cold. They were also a little "greasy". I looked at my hands and then sniffed them. Whooooey! My family dog greated me on the way in. He could smell what had happened long before my wife did. I didn't get a hug from my wife until I had showered. This tale still is told around the dinner table by my adult sons.