Furry Co-Workers

Jackson, chairwarmer extraordinaire

Pixie the Brat. Rita and Lee, background, are not particularly furry. 

Viggie, the big fella

Rueben pops in with his man now and then, just to chat.

Animules. Gotta love 'em.

It snowed all day here, but was perfect for walking at noon; reminded me of the west coast.
Then I had to scrape ice off the windshield of Little Green before driving home at suppertime, and the road was a bit slippery in places. Oh well. It's the season. Why mind?

We have lost a neighbour in a horrible accident. He was found in his burned-up truck, on a dirt road a few miles north. We don't know yet what happened. He leaves a wife and two young children. Scott has known him for many years, but I met him only once, and it was a memorable occasion because his goodheartedness was plain. The power steering belt had slipped off and brought my vehicle to a halt on the road in 20- to 30-below weather, and this gentleman stopped to help me out. He stood in the frigid cold with another neighbour who happened by, freezing their fingers under the hood of my van as they struggled to get the fan belt back on, for about an hour.

It's the kind of thing the men out here will do, at their own extreme inconvenience, and not just for stranded women; for other men, too. It's not surprising; it's more surprising when a passerby doesn't go out of his way to help. Still, it's what I'll remember this young man for.