The big barn door that we use the most, has been a problem.  Frost, ice, drifted snow can make it very difficult to slide the door open.  I’ve wanted to do something about it.  And finally did.

Stage one complete

The contractor lives on our road, but on the other side of the Interstate (no bridge on our secondary, dirt road).  He had to frame in a new doorway–the original doorway was too wide for a standard size door.

Stage two — Finishing touches

The final step was to install new steel on the wall and trim around the door.  The new overhead door works like a dream.  And it looks good too. 😎

Job completed.

Perhaps, if I save $$ for a few more years, I can replace the other door.  Maybe even install an opener.  Nah!  No need for those frills.

After a long, hard, cold, snow-filled winter the neighborhood buzz is about spring.  Our friends are sharing reports of sighting robins and red-winged black birds and we’ve seen killdeer.  However it was Sunday, when I saw the first sure sign of spring.

We had gone out for lunch and were surprised that the restaurant had live music.  We sat next to the guitar-playing singer.  She was good!  Later she sat the guitar down and went to work at the keyboard.  Wow!  What an eclectic mix of classic hymns, show tunes and pop music kept coming our way carried on a rich and powerful voice.

Just before we left, she asked Sylvia and I what kind of music we liked.  We answered, “Country.”  She sang a couple of Patsy Cline songs.  Afterward I told her I was wrong.  “How’s that?” she wanted to know.  I replied, “I thought no one could sing those songs better than Patsy Cline.”

The singer turned to Sylvia and said that she knew her from somewhere.  Sylvia asked if she was the daughter of Bob and Rosemary.  She replied in the affirmative.  Then Sylvia told her that we live right across the road from them.  “Wow,” she said, “You’re the one that brings over the yummy fudge and other goodies at Christmas time, aren’t you.”  Sylvia is the one and told her so.

We were driving home feeling good after the nice meal (fish), the music and the chat.  I looked into the sky and saw that first sure sign of spring.

The buzzard of paradise

Yes, I was seeing a turkey buzzard.  Okay.  Spring is now officially here.  What marks the sure sign of spring for you?

This morning, I was catching up with my Facebook friends when I came across a post to which a friend had replied.  It asked the question, “What fairytale creature are you.”  My friend said, “A dwarf, and my name is Grumpy.”  Must not be a morning person.

I’m not a morning person either, but I had to find another answer.  (At this point I’m reminded of standing in the outfield watching the baseball coming my way.  It grew larger and larger.  What was going on?  And then it hit me.)  Then it hit me.  I’m from Michigan’s lower peninsula.  Therefore, I’m a troll.

Do they get good wi-fi under the bridge?

They call us “trolls,” because we live under (south of) the bridge.  I remember the days before the bridge, when we took a ferry to cross between Mackinaw City and St Ignace.

A few had posted versions of “It’s a great winter we’re having this spring.”  That seemed very appropriate to me.  I woke this morning to a snow white world. Even now, snow is falling from the sky.

Excuse me.  I’m going to crawl under my bridge.

Saturday morning Sylvia had left for a series of meetings that would fill her day with activity and travel.  The phone rang.  I picked it up and heard my neighbor’s voice.  He asked, “Does your camera have a zoom lens.”  “Yes,” I replied.  He continued, “There are two bald eagles feeding on a dead raccoon behind my house.”  I thanked him, took a quick look out the window to confirm the sighting and then went for the camera.

By the time I retrieved the camera, one of the eagles had left.  Only one remained.

Gloomy Saturday morning

I wasn’t too happy with the photographic results, but it was good to see the eagles again.  Then on Monday, when the skies were clear and we had good natural light, I looked out to spot an eagle that had come back and was feasting on the dead raccoon.

Frozen raccoon for lunch, says the eagle

For the last several years, we have seen the eagles a few times each year.  Usually only one at a time.

I keep looking for the golden eagle that has been around during the winters, but that is a very elusive bird and seems to be less comfortable around people.

Personal Note

I’ve not posted much lately.  There have been a number of excuses reasons for that.  I’d like to post more regularly, but can’t make any promises.

Our granddaughter has returned from a two-week study abroad program in Ghana (West Africa).  We followed her activities mostly on Facebook.  Sylvia and I are so very very proud of her.

Something that starts with “D”

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