We Fought the Cat and the Cat Won

 What was supposed to be the simple task of clipping nails turned out to be quite the disaster last week!  We got through Mimi and Kruppa, the two half-wild former barn cats, without any trouble, which surprised both of us--Mimi is the one who lived in a hole in the sofa for the first 3 weeks we lived here, and Kruppa just ain't right.  Then I went and picked up sweet little Bones, who has never given me a minute's trouble and loves to be carried and cuddled.  To our complete astonishment, she turned into a fluffy, brown-and-black, razor-wielding Tasmanian Devil of a cat as soon as the first claw was clipped.  It was like trying to hang onto a tornado that had just passed through a knife shop.  We did not finish the task...

The slice on Mom's right hand was so deep it exposed 1/2 inch of tendon!

My injuries look worse here because they are longer and required more bandaging, but they were not as deep and I don't have such fragile skin.  The only reason I'm so bandaged up is that I needed to go clean the barn, and you don't enter a barn with open wounds.

Other than the claw-clipping debacle, things have been pretty quiet here.  For one thing, we've both been "under the weather."  Mom had a kidney infection that required a trip to the doctor and a round of antibiotics, and I had a 2-week flare-up brought on by the big temperature swings--from way freakin' below zero one week to melt-the-snow balmy (well, above 25 degrees) the next.   It's been hard for either of us to accomplish much; Mom's bedroom is still taped off so its ceiling can be painted and I still only have 4 sheets of wallpaper hung in my office.  Even when we're mostly home bound, though, life in the Northwoods still holds some pleasant surprises.  On a recent trip back from Janette's house (bringing her some Zantac--even she is not feeling well lately) we rounded the curve at the "oxbow" or "horseshoe bend" in the river and there were a mess of turkeys waiting on the mailman:



They all flew right over the hood of the truck, giving me a chance to catch a couple in mid-flight:

 

And ended up on the little wooded island, joining what must have been at least a hundred others:

While I'm a "wildlife pacifist," Mom always bemoans her lack of a shotgun at times like this...

And a couple of days ago, as we were on our happy way to Coumadin Clinic, we caught this picture:

A whole new take on "running down to the Kwik Trip."  We hope to travel to the Ogema One-Stop in the same manner someday.  Or even down to the Extra Innings tavern.  I wonder if you can be stopped for "drunk reining?"

Both incidents served as nice reminders of why we picked this area.  Even when we're forced to stay still and recuperate, there are beautiful things waiting to be discovered just outside.  We just need to be patient.