First Snow

It was the first snow of the season on Saturday.  Here are some scenes from our own backyard:

The pigeons, Chicken & Dumpling, finally blend into their surroundings . . . their snowy white usually beams like a beacon.

Look at my sweet, little Dumpling . . . he thinks he's fancy -- and he is!  Sometimes he looks just like a big snowflake with a beak.

And here is my little Chicken.  She's not a chicken, she's a pigeon, but we named her that because we thought she looked like a chicken . . . that is, until we got real chickens.  Anyway, I love her and she feeds my soul . . . when I look at her, I hear a soft music box play in my head.  She looks just like something out of a nursery rhyme.

My son tried to get a chicken to come out and play . . . it was her first look at snow; her answer was a resounding, "No!"

Delusions of Reindeur!

Such fun he is in the snow.

Even St. Fiacre, patron saint of gardeners, had to just pause and behold, for it was such a beautiful day.

And finally Winter, 

with its bitin', whinin' wind, 

and all the land will be mantled with snow.  

~Roy Bean

 

Hugging My Tree

This past Wednesday was an extremely windy day.  So windy, it made the dog nervous.  So windy, it blew all of the papers off of my desk; my desk does not sit near a window.  So windy, it cracked a branch on my favorite tree in our backyard.

I love that tree.  It is awkward and misshapen because it was neglected when it was young; much the same way many of us are.  Someone planted it and never paid it any more attention.  It needed pruning and more sun, but it had to march on without.  (That all happened before we lived here.)  So it looks kind of weird now.  But it's awkwardness is what I love about it.  It drapes itself over our deck and cradles us in shade on the hottest summer days.  It holds the other end of my laundry line, making it possible for me to hang laundry out while standing inside my laundry room doorway.  (The day my husband installed the pulley, I insisted he tie it around the tree, no holes would be burrowed into my tree.  She has repaid me by holding whatever I hang on that line, even on the windiest days.)

The branch that cracked was a large branch and the lowest lying one . . . the one that fancies itself an awning for our deck.  It was large enough that, had it broken completely, it would have smashed the side of the chicken coop . . . the one that has taken our family (my husband, mostly) all summer to build.  So my sweet tree held onto that branch until we could have it removed.

The tree service came today and removed that branch and gave her a little shaping while they were at it.  She looks much different; I'll get used to it.

But I can't help feeling sorry for my poor little tree.  It seems she's been through a lot this year, this cracked branch being the most recent.  A severe gnawing by a dastardly squirrel being the worst.  That darned squirrel gnawed off a section of bark bigger than a dinner plate.  All the bark is gone, down to the bare wood.  I see that spot each time I look out my kitchen window.  It looks so much like a wound.

Then I saw these pictures and got an idea:

This was the work of Carol Hummel, genius artist.  Doesn't it just make you smile?  It's all crocheted.

Now, I am no genius artist, but I am a copy cat.  And I don't know how to crochet, but I can knit.  So (you see what's coming here, don't you?), I think I am going to knit up a little cozy for my tree.  I think she could use a good hug and a little scarf for the winter.  Yep, that's what I'm gonna do.

I'm off to research a little to I don't do her more harm than good.  Then I'm going to have at it.  I have some lovely pink Peace Fleece, that just sounds right, doesn't it?

Out Sick

Yesterday, I had a cold.



Today, I am sick.

The whole kleenex-clinging, incessant coughing, nose running, nose stuffed, sleepless, sweaty. shakey, juice gulping, pill popping deal.

Ugh.

I'll see ya tomorrow . . .

when I WILL be much better.

I will, won't I? 

blah

sniff, sniff

blow

cough, cough

ugh

Summer: Now You See It, Then You Won't

Well, it's almost here.

Labor Day Weekend.

For anyone who may not be familiar, it is the day the U.S. takes off of work to celebrate . . . well, work.  That's the official story.  The unofficial story:  This is the weekend when we all take one last look around, say goodbye to summer and welcome fall.  It is the weekend, in my house, at least, in which we literally morph from summer to fall.  No equinox business needed in this house; we go by the calendar.  Right now, Friday afternoon, it's still summer.  Come Monday evening, it will be fall.  Today, at the grocery store, watermelon seemed like a possibility.  Come Tuesday, watermelon will seem out of season and squash will be front and center.  It happens that fast, for me anyway. 

We never travel or have any big plans for Labor Day weekend.  It's just too close to school or, as is the case this year, school actually has begun.  So we'll kick around the house, cleaning up the yard, clearing the deck of all the little things that have accumulated there over the summer:  my son's portable greenhouse, my husband's outdoor extension cord, my decorative birdcage out there awaiting a hosing off, and my daughter's rock collection.  We'll put away the extra lawn furniture, leaving just enough for us -- visitors won't be sitting out back anymore this year.  We'll be dumping out containers of annuals and stopping my son from sneaking them all inside to be raised (so he thinks) as houseplants.

I'll get my husband to restring my laundry line.  It snapped the other day just as I got all the kids' school uniform slacks hung out.  Not a good morning.  Nothing more fun that going back out, not more than 5 minutes after hanging it all, to pick the currently wet and formerly clean laundry out of the mulch and bare dirt (yard renovations continue), and fire them right back in the wash machine.  No, not good.  

Then, hopefully, we'll finish the roof on the chicken coop.  Yes, it is possible, the coop -- the essentials of it, at least -- COULD maybe, MIGHT maybe, POSSIBLY hopefully be finished this weekend.  This is the very last of it other than little cutesy things that we will do as the spirit moves us.  I can't believe it will finally be finished.  It looks great.  I will share photos with you all when it's done.  That could be as early as Tuesday!

Let's see, what else . . .

Grilling.  We always grill a lot over Labor Day weekend.  I think we'll start out easy tonight and just do hamburgers and french fries.

So, reading this through, it strikes me as a lot of work for not working.  Hmmmm . . .

I guess it's a lot of work changing seasons all in one weekend.