August is too damn close for comfort

I suddenly want to pull up one potato plant just to see what's down there. I know, I know, pig potatoes and not much else, and nothing more until the end of August... Potatoes are like all those presents under the tree at Christmas; you know some of it's drek (socks, underwear, that awful red chenille vest...)--but the possibilities for Wonderful are just as great. Just one on Christmas eve, huh huh huh.

Maybe just one plant. Just to see.

The Eponymous Challenge (anyone can play)

ten words, any form allowed, surprise me


waterfall, bright, (a number from one to ten), (a color), belabor, enemy, walnut, swift, miter, trail

Ruminations III

When I first started this blog I was apprehensive about where it would go, and what would happen along the way. Still not sure about where it's going; most of the time it's a bit like my garden, a hearty mix of almost everything--but what has happened is what happens to a lot of blogs, and in a most positive way; a small interested group of people, some of whom I have known for (wow) years, but most of whom do not really know one another that well, but have all gathered to read, comment, and converse.

and that, I realize, is what keeps me going, and keeps this going. For those of you who read and comment (either here or privately), you need to know how much of a difference it makes, that dialogue, that extra commentary. It's a very cool thing.

Pear branch, late July

Turning the Corner

Two nights ago we had a string of thunderstorms that lasted for several hours; when they finally rumbled their way out to sea the air was different. Damp, cool. Extra blanket on the bed, yessir.

In the morning instead of the sulky heat of the past few weeks, it felt more like August than mid-July. Almost chilly, crisp. Put me in mind of sweaters and sneakers across the wet grass.

I thought then, we've turned that corner from high summer into whatever the next stage is, chilly mornings, hot clear days. August weather, yessah.

Saw a doe and her new fawn yesterday morning. Barely visible behind the tall grass, obviously very new. We have a batch of does that for some reason do not produce fawns until mid to late July, rather than in early June. When I first saw a spotted fawn at this time of year years ago I never thought it would make it through the winter--and somehow, they do. Their size and age might be in their favor, actually. They require less food, they are lighter on the snow, and I suspect the herd watches out for them more.

I dunno. Nature seems to look after its own--and what survives is stronger.

Books

Just finished "Oryx and Crake" by Margaret Atwood. She writes strange fiction, not really science fiction, and yet it is. The last of hers I read, "The Penelopiad" I couldnt even finish, not with that chatty sly-sounding Penelope narrating...

for some reason I'm compelled to read Atwood's books, and afterwards think, well, okay...and as good as she is, there are times when I think she leaves too much to the reader's imagination (and sometimes too little), and that can be very frustrating.

also finished the Discworld series (again) with the addition of what I hope will be Terry Pratchett's final book, harsh as that may sound. This last one I could only get about two chapters in, and realized I was never gonna finish it. He still writes well, but it seems overwritten and forced, at some level. Damn.

Picked up a book by Ted Kooser, from 1980. In reading this, I can see how far he has come as a writer since then, and can admit to being mostly disappointed by what he was writing 30 years ago. Thank god for growth, and he surely has.

New stove, first baby picture

its not the best shot in the world, but ain't it shiny, and ain't it black...I can't use a flash, because of all the chrome. But its by god level (there's a two inch difference between the back legs and the front ones, because of the floor) and its just the right cooking height for me. The old one was about two inches higher, and it was doable but not perfect. Our biggest problem is going to be getting an adapter for the stovepipe. The piece that comes with it is oval, but our flue is round. They make adapters, but they're hard to find.

That will be the last hurdle, getting it hooked into the chimney. But its here and it looks like it belongs. *g*

Stove more

it sat overnight under a tarp, and by this afternoon the sun came out and we had worked out fifteen possible ways to move this thing without losing body parts or a marriage in the process. One of them worked (the one with the pushing and screaming, crowbars, a hydraulic jack, and rollers--not unlike giving birth) and we managed to get it at least in the back door and under cover. Tomorrow, the last 20 feet to the fireplace. Man handling 600 pounds of stove on a hot July day is an exercise in um, exercise...

Stove

It's in that particle board box, yep. We took it around the back of the house and left it there, covered with a tarp, for overnight. It's a pretty thing, not overwhelming at all, as to size.

By tomorrow night we should have it in place and yes, Kate, now you can get excited. I can too. *g*

The box was opened like this when we got it, Im figuring customs at the border wanted to make sure we weren't importing lethal bomb stoves from Ontario...

this is not pretty

it took an engine block, two different attempts at moving it, rollers, planking, and four hours of steady labor just to get this Old Stove from here to over there (look around the corner of the picture to the left) where it sits right now with a cat sleeping on top of it. The legs are off, the warming oven is off,

and now it looks like it would make a great cookstove for the hearth, if we were all three feet tall.

This is really really kinda sad. When I saw the picture my first thought was a line from a Yeats poem, "The Fiddler of Dooney", "and he sang in his chains like the sea"...

Stove report

The stove is on its way. They called and said it will be delivered next Tuesday between 12 and 4; the hard part now is getting the old stove outta da way and the path cleared between Here and There.
Not excited yet. Im saving all that up, in true Yankee fashion, for the day it gets here.

one potato two potato

Amazing what a month can do to a bunch of potato plants.

Still here, breathing softly

It's been a crazy (and mostly good) summer, one of those periods when you move from major event to major event in a straight line, and the spaces in between are like islands where you plan for the next thing to happen. A few weeks back we had a utility pole removed, the one that holds the meter and supplies the power and telephone feeds underground into the house. It involved an electrician, the electric company, the building inspector, the telephone company, and Cuffy, who discovered that loose dirt mounded up is a GREAT play toy to push back in the hole...

Each part of the event involved a week of contacts, scheduling, coordination between the three branches of government, and lollipops all around at the end.

Today we got me signed up for Medicare (yes, it's that time); part of me is constitutionally against it, part of me knows Ill be glad of it in about 20 years. I'll get over me sooner or later.

The stove is not here yet, Kate. But we expect a call any day now, or next month. With stuff like this it's a wide range.

And through it all the wood man delivers, two cords at a time. This is what eight cords looks like...

garden things

this is a big old rock maple in our yard. The green cascading over the front of it is NOT maple leaves, but rather a wildflower called Celandine, with pretty little yellow blooms. It originally was on the ground directly beneath where it is now, and apparently a bird or squirrel carried one of the seed pods up and lodged it in the vee...and there it sits.

I really got into the potato thing this year, raised bed, straight compost for planting, and so far they are really really nice looking plants. Hilled them up for the first time yesterday and dusted them with sulfur powder to keep the bugs away.

Having grown potatoes before sporadically, with wildly varying degrees of success, I'm not counting on anything until the vines are pulled and the potatoes are in my hands, nossir.

But right now...

They are, for those who set store by such things, Maine potatoes, probably Katahdins. I went all out and planted three pounds, which should yield at least 40-50 pounds. Last year I got a 25-1 ratio, so we shall see.

Just for Kate

this is what we're using now. It's twenty three years old and starting to warp a bit, and frankly Ive never been totally pleased with it. It was never mentioned that all the measurements are metric, and the oven was just that much smaller than most of my cookie sheets and even turkey roaster, they all had to be pared down to fit. Very annoying.

The design is very similar, but smaller than the new one, and i wont be getting white doors, just basic black. Im impressed, too, Kate. *g*

Getting it in and set up will be the fun part, it weighs over 500 pounds--god bless engine hoists and rollers. I just don't want to take a door frame off the hard way when we're rolling it down the ramp and into the doorway...yikes...

margin gem stove

It was time, and this is the one that to me says 'cook stove'.
Shelf instead of warming oven, no water reservoir, no fancy
bits. Just a fire box, an oven, and moi. Six weeks, give or take.
This is more exciting than a new refrigerator, *g*

It gets scary sometimes

Most of the time when I come to a red light and stop, it changes, and I am off and rolling. This time I was mentally drifting a bit and missed the change--after a few seconds the truck behind me tapped his horn, and I started to move forward. Just as I did, a car ran the red light on the cross traffic.

It didnt seem like much but then I realized that if I had been quick off the mark he could very well have got me broadside. I would have been about where he was at the same time since my left hand view was blocked by an SUV, and I had no way of knowing there was a car running the light.

Maybe from now on i will instigate the three second green light rule and if the hotshot behind me is that impatient he can pound sand.

Out to the shed and back

It's never a simple trip, there's usually something to carry out or carry back (or both), and even tonight when my only mission was to throw a plastic tub over the mower in case of rain, and pull the little shed doors shut, I had to stand on the porch steps first getting used to the early evening not-quite-dark, admiring the peepers and little frogs singing joyously (well I have to assume so, it is May, after all) in the run at the bottom of the field.

And the the appreciation of stepping out onto the lawn in bare feet and no jacket, after a winter of traveling outside swathed in the coat, the hat, the gloves, the boots, only to roll up a car window. But now the winter coats are inside, and I am not. I feel twelve years old again, marching bravely and barefooted across the night lawn with the cat padding loudly beside me.

on the way back I heard a barky noise, one Ive heard before this year, sort of a sneezy single bark but apparently high off the ground. Finally looked it up on google and by a process of elimination and incredible intuitive leaping, realized I was hearing a grey fox. They do climb trees, and if startled, the site said, will warn you with a hoarse bark that sounds like a cough.

Good for him, good for me. Happy May 1st.

owning the star

There is a certain cachet in using the first name of a celebrity, it implies familiarity with 'george' or "lindsey" or "Lyndon" and suggests that yes you do rate the privilege to safely refer to them by just their first name in public, trusting that other folks who are not in the ingroup will be impressed with your close ties.

yes, it annoys me. are we surprised.