Storm Watch - So far a fizzle

All is well and we await the storm. Digby has been blessed with about 25 cm so far and is awaiting another forty. We saw a flake but it might have been sawdust from the hole the Great Dane is making in the kennel so we aren't certain we have had any weather at all so far. The pundits are touting gloom and doom storms for all but our Ken says they are just not accurate and we know our Ken is the oracle of all things storm. The pheasants are back in numbers with four now spending much of their day under the chestnut tree outside the office window - so it must be winter in spite of the fact that the grass is still green.

The kennel is busy and all is well. Ruari continues to be the clean up man and will not come in until all others have been locked down for the night. He is thorough and precise in his positioning and takes no quarter in asserting his role and its' importance. He is somewhat undone by Chantelle who simply puts a leash on him and marches him around to his bed - that's just cheating! Roddi is eating well, on his haunches waving as only Roddi can and as Chantelle notes "If that dog is unwell, nobody has given him the memo". The two Labs are enjoying each other's company and play in their exercise yard by the hour. The Great Dane watches from his vantage point over the top of the fence (keep in mind that it is five feet high) but the combination of those ungainly legs and Great Dane enthusiasm keep him ensconced in his own area. It was cold through the day so he was in and out to the yards to keep him warm but as it warmed through the evening, he decided that any port in a storm would do and had a play with Chantelle (who was knocked about and chased by the grinning mega-dog). Keegan, Kenzie and Fiddler are having a wonderful time together and are playing every Airedale game imaginable in yard number 4. Lori came in season and had to be led to the kennel after dinner. That was not a positive move in her books since Chantelle was only just home and she was only just back in the bedroom in her rightful place. Brewster is Brewster and is still managing the perimeters and the runways in Corgi-fashion.

The house crew is doing just fine. Patti is thriving on her potion and she and Sophie have Ken trained to supplement with Costco tortiere for their dining pleasure. He has also bar b qued hamburgers so they have an alternate supply if their whims don't lead to meat pie. The rest suffer along with chicken gravy, vegetables and whatever else comes their way. None seem the worse for wear. We lived through the reintegration of Scout, Clem and Jessie-Rachael as Chantelle moved back in - Clem is glad to be home, the Welsh a little less so since their freedoms have been curtailed. Patti is delighted to have Chatelle back in residence and when invited to go upstairs with the parade offered her biggest grin in weeks. All is right with her world. Sleeping in Ken and Lee's room was apparently a poor substitute.

New Year's dinner is developed by Our Ken so we had a lovely prime rib roast, potatoes from the garden, roasted carrots and parsnips with onion in a brown sugar glaze, gravy, fruitcake (with marzipan and icing - courtesy of Ken's mother's recipe), Christmas ice cream, cherries jubilee and chocolate squares. It worked. And it's back to storm watch . . .