Ice Free! Too tired.

 L+8+R.

Wednesday morning. The snow ramp is done for.

Wolf's bay off to the left and Bedrock straight ahead.

Looking left from the dock.

To the right.

The on ramp to the Don Fraser Bypass.

Way back in the day, the guys at Hampel-Gibson mill had a trailer where the Bypass is. This is all that is left of their picnic table.

Every once in a while a beer bottle or something will just poke up out of the earth. Here's a tomato can I found this morning and put on a beaver stump.

Later we had some flurries.

Thursday. 

Grackles and red-wings. These guys sometimes show up in flocks of a hundred or so. They are very flighty and when one takes off, they all take off. Sometimes they make so much noise that they wake me up.

 We have lots of LBBs, (little brown birds), white crowned, white throated, chipping, fox, American tree, and song sparrows. And juncos and purple finches.

Yesterday's flurries added up.

Would Razor try that jump on a TNT?

Count the grackles.

Weasel and George tracks. George told Grasshopper that he wanted to go outside, so, she let him out not knowing that the weasel was on the deck.

Skid marks. Don't worry, Georgie missed.

This Merlin falcon has been hanging around lately. Obviously he went to the George school of bird hunting.

Saturday. 

A longer jump.

That way.

The other way.

We've been struggling this year to put up our wood due to too much of the wrong kind of snow, to rain, to no snow. Here's Grasshopper's cedar kindling so far.

I have hand split all this so far, but the frost is now out of the wood, sooooo...

It was decided that I should go to the back 40 and drag out the old power splitter. We haven't used this beast for at least 2 years, maybe three. After filling up the oil, fresh gas, cleaning the carb, and remembering where the gas valve was,, the old ogre roared to life. Here's a video of the first couple of chunks of yellow birch. The machine gets a lot faster after the hydraulic fluid warms up. Watch the exploding block of wood. Click Me.

A short video of grackles. Unfortunately, they didn't cooperate, and didn't come in by the hundreds. Click Me.

Har, har Mike.

If you liked the slinky, you'll like this one, too.

When I do blogs late at nite, after a couple of Rons (that's Spanish, you know, look it up, yer welcome), my humour gets a little froggy.

A doctor couldn't read my hand writing.

Does this mean no more pics of my pizzas?

A new credo for Razor.

Grasshopper's credo.

Happy Birthday Charlie Brown! 

It seems that itchiebitchieritchie.blogspot.ca
is trying to keep up with the master, so let's make him work for it. 

Happy spring! You know what I like about spring? Nothing. I don't like the rains. I don't like the robins waking me up at 5:00 AM. I don't like that you can't slide 100LB propane tanks around. And I'm really not looking forward to the bugs that will be here too soon. 

So, we are officially in "slushy" season where the lake is too soft for a sled and too hard for a boat. Our driveway has too much snow in some areas for a 4wheeler, and too little for a sled. 

Last Saturday. While making coffee something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. The otter was back. Here's a short video to show how good this old geezer's peripheral vision is. Click me. Yeah, all the way out to the narrows. Now, if I could just see where I left my gloves...

Looking up the driveway.

The snow ramp is disappearing.

Every sled track.

How many times did we go thru Wolf's bay?

Yesterday we took the Transformer up the driveway. The first culvert is frozen and water is flowing over the road, and under the packed trail, so we didn't go any further.
   

A plague of grackles.

Pretty, and pretty noisy, too.

It rained like the great flood all night. There's the fire pit.

Not much left now.

The gate.

Past the gate.

Both sleds sleeping for the summer.

 
   Richie, I like your comments, but, I think it would be a lot easier, for me, if you built me one. And then you would have an excuse to deliver it to Little Tomiko. I got your back. Your welcome.