Hello, Readers:

Summer officially arrived at Cinnamon Ridge as of June 21, according to the calendar, but evidently no one informed the weather regulator for Easter Oregon. We have gorgeous and sunny days where we can see for miles, and the air is fragrant with the scent of pine, but until this last week, it was cold, cold, cold. Even the short walk from the house to the hot tub produced goose bumps the size of blueberries. Once in the warm water, I dreaded getting out and sprinting back indoors. Of course, watching for the deer that slip through the trees and come to visit at all times of the day made lingering there very attractive!

As always in Central Oregon, summer arrived overnight, taking us from chill, shudder-inducing temperatures to very warm days. And, as always, everyone, including myself, had to complain just a bit about the sudden change. But deep down, the residents of this area are happy to see summer finally arrive and are looking forward to four months of lovely weather. There is no place quite like Central Oregon in the summer months. It’s absolutely perfect, seldom too hot and always growing cooler in the evenings.

Unfortunately, watching the chipmunks and squirrels this year doesn’t give us quite the same feeling of peace and harmony with nature that it used to. During our home remodel, the contractor discovered that the little rascals had infiltrated under the roof and done damage to the wiring, which had created a fire hazard. All vigorous and repeated efforts to keep them out had been unsuccessful. They’re bold and curious and they keep coming right up to the house, chattering cheerily on the deck railings and scampering up the posts to the roof. Even when I’m on critter reconnaissance duty and go bursting out the door, hollering and waving my arms and flapping a dishtowel in as threatening a manner as possible, they simply retreat, regroup, and return. I’m afraid this means I wouldn’t make it as a scarecrow, so it’s a good thing I decided to be a writer instead. Little critters instinctively know I’m not going to turn into a gun-toting exterminator.

We’re considering a recommendation that we get some outside cats. I’ve been told by an expert that the smell of cats around a place is enough to warn the little critters away. We have a big pump house that stays warm at night in winter and summer, and of course we’ll be feeding the cats regularly. I’ll let you know what we decide to do. I worry that cats might harm our wild birds. At this point, though, I’m leaning toward a feline adoption because I know we must keep the rodents away from our house. I love to see them—if they are in the woods and not on our deck or roof. My aim is to create peaceful harmony with the squirrels and chipmunks living in the forest beyond our yard, and us living in the house without wire gobblers in the walls and attic.

In addition to deer and chipmunks and squirrels, we have some less benign visitors from time to time. Since I last updated the website, our two surviving dogs, Talili and Buddy, both Australian Shepherds, have had several run-ins with packs of coyotes. A while back when we let them out for a run in broad daylight, we heard coyotes yapping and hurried out on to the side deck to see our dogs hightailing it up the hill at a speed faster than I thought they were capable of attaining. Their incentive was a bunch of coyotes right behind them, obviously intent upon securing one or more of the dogs for a midday snack. Our shouts and a few shots fired into the air frightened the coyotes away, but one of our dogs had a gouge on his muzzle and punctures in his ear. Both of them had scraped bellies and were pretty scared. The vet informed me that coyotes have become extremely bold over the last couple of years. One pack came into a woman’s yard and attacked her little dog while she was standing right there! She managed to save her dog at great risk to herself, thank goodness, but the story is still a bit chilling.

On a brighter note, my sadness over losing Kibbles lessens a bit with each passing day. I feel at peace because I know she is in a much better place. That allows me to enjoy the little things again and smile broadly.

For starters, romance seems to be in the air at Cinnamon Ridge. I’m sure my canary, Saffron, is in love. His cage is located in the bay window of my office, and he is often visited by wild birds that fly up to the window, hover or perch nearby, and listen to his beautiful rolling song. One little bird, plain of feather but bold of manner, has been an especially persistent visitor. From the flirting and the head-cocking and the preening it does, I’m sure it’s a female, and equally certain that she’s selected Saffron as her one true love. He preens back, seems to direct his loveliest songs to her, and scoots all around his cage to keep her attention. Since he’s a housebound canary and she’s a little free spirit of unknown origin, I’m afraid they are destined to be star-crossed lovers...but lovers, nevertheless!

Another thing for me to smile about is my son John’s horse, Shiner. Shiner is what John terms a difficult teenager, younger than the more sedate Montana and older than Beau, who isn’t yet three. Anyway, Shiner can’t seem to stay out of trouble. He has a fascination with wire, which is dangerous for horses because they can get their legs tangled in it. Like many horse owners, John strings electric fence wire along the top rail of the corral fence to keep the horses from breaking the boards and getting loose. Well, Shiner doesn’t seem to comprehend the basics of electricity. He persistently grabs the hot wire in his teeth, tears it away from the electrical feed, and then trots around the enclosure with his lips peeled back from his teeth. Obviously biting into a charged wire isn’t much fun, but the instant John repairs the barrier, Shiner grabs it again. One would think that the unpleasant jolt would teach him a lesson, but Shiner never learns.

Shiner also seems to have an itch that he can’t get scratched. This is a picture of him in his pen, using a small tree to get at itchy spots he’s unable to reach, much as we might use a back scratcher. He remained astraddle the tree for over thirty minutes. I thought that was pretty darned cute.

Our internet acted up for a couple of days, and I didn’t realize how dependent I was on it until suddenly it wasn’t there. Technology has infiltrated our lives in so many ways we take for granted. At one time, all I needed in my world was Sid and my two boys. Now I can’t get along without my washer and dryer and the dishwasher and my cell phone, and heaven forbid the internet should go down! I’m fond of modern conveniences, and I’m afraid I’m the type that the pioneers might have been tickled to death to give to the Native Americans as a hostage.

Again, thanks to all who kept in touch during our final vigil with Kibbles. Her spirit lingers on at Cinnamon Ridge, in the home she loved and the woods she claimed as her own. We all miss her very much.

I’ll be attending the RomCon conference in Denver this month, and I’m looking forward to it. I’ll tell you about it next month. Until then, have a wonderful summer.

All the best,

Catherine