Cliff is still bringing in the bird feeders each night to deter roving bands of marauding raccoons and hungry bears.  I fill the feeders each morning and return them at the first light of day as the Cardinals are already on the ground and perching on tree branches awaiting breakfast.  Lately we've had eleven degree mornings with cutting winds and I've had to put on a heavy jacket when venturing out to the feeder hooks.  This morning only required a light jacket as the temperature was a balmy 26 and felt pretty good.  We're under winter storm warning today so it's a good baking day.  Yesterday I baked a chocolate zucchini loaf and did a slow-cooker chicken with a delicious rub.  When the chicken was done and cooled, I picked the bones clean and saved the chicken pieces, then threw fat, skins, bones, a bay leaf, in a large soup pot with lots of water and boiled it for a couple of hours.  Cliff helped me strain the broth from the carcass pieces so I could make the soup.  The broth had an appealing burnt orange color and a flavorful savory taste, not like any other chicken soup broth that I'd ever made.  Since I don't follow recipes often, just play with the ingredients and spices, I can't usually duplicate what I did unless I write it down.  This one is a keeper.

Since I forgot to take a picture of the soup when it was hot, this is  cold shot. It has chopped turnips, carrots, onion, a bay leaf, potatoes.  I could have thrown in celery but cooked celery grosses me out.  I can eat it raw and crunchy, but soft celery is like eating a worm.  I can only imagine.  The slow-cooker rub ingredients are onion powder, garlic powder, dried thyme, paprika ( I used smoked), salt, pepper, and cayenne pepper.  Mmmmmmmm...........warms the cockles of your heart.

With all the time spent in the kitchen, I got to watch heavy bird activity at the suet and the seed feeders.  I have one bluebird that settles and drinks from the birdbath but never hits the feeders.  He has beautiful blue feathers and soft orange breast feathers.  He makes my day when I see him at the bath. The other day the brown Carolina wren was on the ground flicking leaves in the air but stopped when it spotted some of the leaves moving on their own.  As the wren and I watched the ground, a little furry mouse scurried from under the leaves, ran across the driveway, and disappeared under more leaves.   Probably the same mouse that lived in our walls for a few weeks.