Hermit for a day

With all the depressing news we've had lately, I decided to become a hermit and spend 24 hours at the cabin.  Mandy and I went back sometime after 8 o'clock Friday evening.  I took a cooler with a few food items, my camera, of course, and an old popcorn popper I'd bought years ago at a garage sale and never used... it's the kind with a thing on the lid that you turn.   I make popcorn in the microwave, here at the house.  After applying lots of insect repellant (the mosquitoes are terrible there), Mandy and I had popcorn together on my little deck while listening to some of my cabin CDs.  There's a radio with the CD player too, but I don't listen to it.  I've had enough news lately to last a lifetime.

I got up around six A.M., and went outside, with Mandy following me.  Usually when she and I sleep at the cabin, we head back home as soon as I wake up; it was hard to make her understand that we weren't going yet.  She kept heading toward the house, looking back over her shoulder at me as if to say, "Come on; it's time to go home."

I left my camper coffee-pot in the camper after the fair, folded down inside the popup.  Therefore, I made coffee by boiling water in a pan, dumping the grounds in, turning off the burner, and waiting for the grounds to settle.  The coffee wasn't bad!  The trick is to toss out the last couple of drinks at the bottom of your cup.  I fixed a BLT for breakfast, frying an extra piece of bacon for Mandy.  I ran into a problem here:  I realized I have no knife at the cabin, and I had to hack my poor tomato apart with a spoon, in order to make a sandwich.  No problem, it tasted good.

The cooking I did required some dishwashing afterward, so while I had nice warm, soapy water, I wiped off all the surfaces well, removing any final traces of the mouse who once staked his claim there.  He must have been the only mouse there, because the mouse-poison I've put in strategic places hasn't been touched.

Mandy and I walked on paths in the dew-soaked grass.  At one point a deer jumped across in front of us, his white flag raised in alarm.  If it wasn't for Cliff spending many hours mowing each spring and summer, the sumac would take the place.  I truly appreciate his efforts, even though I've been known to tell him he worries too much about how it looks back there.  At this time of year I won't venture into the deep woods on account of ticks and snakes, so if it weren't for the paths he keeps open, I'd have noplace to walk. 

I heard the tractor in the distance around mid-morning and went to see what Cliff was doing; he was harrowing, making final preperation for the alfalfa seed and fertilizer.  I took a picture, waved at him, and walked away. 

We had decided at one point to plant clover instead... the seed is so much cheaper... but in the end we shelled out the money for alfalfa.  In a good year, we'll get four cuttings of hay from alfalfa.  Clover doesn't give that much yield.  Now we just have to hold our breath and pray for gentle rain to get the seeds started.

Back at the cabin I read, had myself a hot dog roast, and generally soaked up the peace... until I heard voices in the distance, getting closer and closer.  It was my two granddaughters, as well as Anna next door.  We visited awhile, Monica and Natalie drank my supply of tea and ate most of my cookies, fussed a bit as usual.... and then we heard a vehicle approaching!  It was Anna's mom looking for her daughter.  She was astounded that I had a cabin in the woods.  "You don't need to go to the lake for vacation, do you?"  she said, laughing.

The visitors more or less brought me back to reality, and I decided to return to civilization.  I had planned on staying 24 hours, but in the end it was 19 hours, all told. 

I helped Cliff put electric fence around the alfalfa field until almost dark, and thus ended another perfect day in my country life.

Saturday Six

1. What is the price of gas at your regular station?  Have you made any changes to holiday plans because of gas prices?

$3.19, Cliff says, is the price now.  Yes, we cancelled our plans to go to the Old Thresher's Reunion in Iowa.  I spent last night and most of today in my cabin, so I'd feel like I had a getaway.

2. Some people feel that the song that was #1 when they were born somehow helps shape their life.  Which song was #1 when you were born, according to this site.  Do you think it relates to your life at all?

That site doesn't go back to 1944.  With the help of Google, I see that Frank Sinatra was popular then, and Tex Ritter was on the charts in country music.

3. Take this quiz:  Which child does it say you are?  Is it correct about your birth order?

It says I'm a fourth child.  I'm my mother's only child, my dad's third.

4. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #61 from De:  What animal do you equate your spirit with and why?  (This site may be helpful.) 

Although I love dogs and horses, I think I'm probably more like a cat.

5. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #62 from Psychfun:  If you had to describe your personality as a nut (as in the eatable kind) what nut would you be and why?

I'll pass on this question.  It makes no sense to me.

6. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #63 from Chris:   Who knows the "real" you better - - your real world friends or your Jland readers?

I don't think anyone knows the real me except perhaps my husband.

If you have a Reader's Choice question you'd like to see asked (and answered), click the e-mail link on the About Me bar and send it to me.

John Scalzi's Weekend assignment

Weekend Assignment #75: Send a Message

This Weekend Assignment is going to be short and sweet:

Weekend Assignment #75: Write a note to those who are suffering in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Take a picture of yourself and the note. Post it online where everyone can see. Write on a whiteboard, a piece of paper, a notepad, whatever.

Natalie and Monica agreed on what to say, and they did the printing and decorating.  I love it when our weekend assignment is one the girls can participate in.

If you'd like to play, simply make your sign and take a picture, put it in a journal entry, and leave the link to that entry HERE in Scalzi's blog, with all the rest.

toadstools in my yard

I never saw these toadstools in my yard until last year.  When Mandy was a puppy, I did an entry HERE showing her interest in these strange objects.  What I didn't know at the time was how huge these things will get, if you leave them alone.

I think they're puffballs, Cliff thinks not.  I did some research, and learned that when toadstools crop up in the same spot in circles every year, it's called "Fairy rings".  Here's what I read:

Fairy rings

Look for an arc or circle of lush green grass and/or toadstool or puffball mushrooms. The rings may be as large as 60 feet in diameter, though most are less than 15 feet. They usually occur in the same place each year, with the ring expanding outward.

The lush grass is from a release of nutrients (especially nitrogen) caused by the fungi. Some of the mushrooms associated with fairy rings are poisonous and should be raked up and removed regularly if small children play in the area.

Fairy rings are more of an aesthetic nuisance than threat to lawns. Sometimes there will also be a ring of dead grass caused by the fungus. More frequent mowing can minimize the difference in grass height. More frequent fertilization and heavier watering can even up grass growth and color, but may cause worse disease problems.

Hey, I have to do something to get my mind off the news, even if it means taking pictures of fungi.

 

Bovine drama

When I went out this morning to put Blue up, I heard the sounds of two desperate animals:  The trumpet-loud, earth-shaking voices in the distance of a cow in distress, and a calf, answering her.  Now when the bellowing and bawling is that loud, you can be pretty sure everyone involved is in good health... but there was definitely some sort of problem.

I went in the direction of the cow-sounds and quickly saw the situation.  Lucille's steer calf had somehow gotten through the barbed-wire fence onto the neighbor's property, and didn't know how to get back.
I returned to the house to tell Cliff what was going on.  He had to get dressed, so I figured I'd go back to the scene of the trouble so I could wave toward him and let him know where the problem was; He only has one ear that works at all, so he can't follow sounds, because he can't tell where they're coming from.
I found the cow had followed me back... but when she saw me returning, she turned and headed back to her poor baby, bellowing and bawling all the way.  Every few steps she'd look back to see if I was coming.  She was leading me to her calf.
Cows are pretty stupid animals, and the ones we have at present have appeared even dumber than most.  I've not been fond of these ladies, because they're really not friendly, and they can be somewhat dangerous when they have small calves.  Moanie, the other cow, knocked me down twice when I was trying to examine her new-born twins.
But Lucille was practically talking to me.  She'd bawl at her calf, then look at me as if to say, "Why aren't you doing something?"  When she saw Cliff in the distance, she bawled toward him, and watched him closely as he approached.
She stood patiently by while Cliff loosened three of the strands of wire and lowered them, not upset at all that we were so near her calf.

Even dumb animals know when they need our help.  My Uncle Leo, a lifetime farmer, used to say, "There ain't no dumb animals." 
edited in later... Cliff pointed out that I got the two cows' names mixed up.  This is Moanie.  Lucille is the mother of the twin heifers, and the one who knocked me down.  It doesn't change the story, but I like to be accurate.

especially for memes1 (comment in last post)

That's my total collection of Native American things found on our land, except for another handful of tiny pieces of flint.  Those two nice big ones were rooted up by a hog, back behind our barn.  Mostly what I find is pieces of flint the Indians chisled off the items they were making, although you can see that white piece to the right of the big ones was a spear if you look closely.  It's only about half a spearhead.

The man from whom we purchased this land was the first person ever to plow it and farm it, and a friend of his who was an expert at finding these things really made a haul.  What I find is the leftovers. 

Still, it's a good feeling to hold those things in my hands and realize that someone took great pains to make them, long ago, on what is now my own land.

The owners of a nearby orchard where I used to work in the autumn have a huge collection of things like this.  They've had experts come in and look it over, and theirs all came from the Hopewell period, which goes back even before the time of Christ.

" The next era would be the Woodland Period, (1,000 to 500 B.C.). The Hopewell tribe inhabited Missouri during this period. They learned how to fire clay pots and tools, engaged in trade, and created large ceremonial earthworks. They cultivated corn and hunted deer and wild turkey."

I was told that largest piece is probably what they used for a hoe.  Both of those two bigger ones were "fired" to make them that reddish shade.

A stroll around our farm

We had an unexpected shower this morning, but it shouldn't hurt our hay, which hasn't cured yet because of high humidity and damp ground. 

I haven't found any great arrowheads this year, only pieces of flint left behind from their manufacture.  You can see the marks the Native Americans made on some of them.  .  Because this river bluff on which we live is wind-blown soil, there are no rocks here naturally:  If you see a rock, somebody brought it here.

When you look for arrowheads, you notice tiny things you wouldn't ordinarily see, so I took the camera along to hone my close-up skills.  Flint has a waxy look about it, so you know immediately it isn't a plain old piece of rock.  Certain leaves look like flint from a distance, so you're always bending down to have a closer look.

I tried my best to get a picture of a bumblebee collecting necter from a cocklebur flower, but he kept moving on to the next one just about the time I'd get focused; a couple of times I thought he was coming to get me, and moved away fast!  Cliff drove by on the tractor and laughed to see me with my butt in the air, head near the ground, trying to take a picture of a bug.  That one didn't turn out, by the way.  But Cliff got his laugh, so it wasn't wasted effort.