13 May 2012 - Appreciating my brother

Have I mentioned how much I adore my brother? The best thing about being back in Utah is the close proximity to David. He amazes me daily. Not only is he funny, but so smart! He can do anything, fix anything and I would kill to have his brain function. He remembers every thing he reads. He would probably argue with that, but the amount of knowledge and odd little facts which turn out to be useful, tucked away in all the nooks and crannies of his head continually astonish me. I think some of his DNA comes from the sponge family. If you want an example ask him about the alkali bees and the bomber flies in Lovelock, Nevada. Funny. 

David works four ten hours days then has three off. Since we came back, at least one of those three days off has been spent helping us. He shows up and works. Instead of veni, vidi vici, I keep thinking I should find the latin for he came, he fixed, he left. It seems to fit. Since he has taken care of this house for many years he just knows what and when to do it.

He also comes with surprises. After we decided to move back,  D2 and I had a conversation about weather vanes. Pop had made a wonderful horse weather vane that topped the house for years. It had fallen apart some time back.  When we arrived in SLC in December after selling our house, the first thing I saw was a new weather vane gracing the roof line. Perfect!

Last Saturday, Jack and I were sitting on the porch, reading the paper, sipping coffee, soaking up the warm sun when David comes sneaking into the yard. I think he was shocked to find us up and mobile. 

He made a birdhouse out of a log and I think he planned to hang it in a tree, then wait to see how long it took us to notice. Foiled! But it is a great birdhouse. It may be a bit late for this season, but someone will find it. I'm hoping it will be a flicker or perhaps a woodpecker.

In addition, he had his bag of tools with him and started pulling stuff out. Now what? One of my pieces of yard art had been bothering him. It's a lovely bird made out of tools that looks like it is saying, "Get busy! Why are you just sitting there?" Over years of being out in the weather, the bolts that were the eyes had rusted out. He drilled out the bolts and installed new eyes made out of orange cat's eye marbles. Everyone is happier now. And they eyes? They look great--nice beady bird eyes. 

After making the decision to move back, Jack and I made three trips out to SLC--two of the trips involved driving 17 foot U-Hauls packed to bulging, and the the third trip--we got smarter as we went along--we flew out and met a POD here. Still can't believe how much stuff we brought with us, and even more, how much stuff we gave away. But the point is, that in July of 2010, when we decided to make the move and Jack moved here, David would show up and help do things. 

One day he and Jack were sitting on the porch and David said, "Lauri needs a water feature." Can't argue with that! Pop had built a small wading pool for us when we were all small. Then he added an upper pond with a fountain that flowed into the wading pool. 
 
At least 15 years ago David filled in the wading pool and the fountain hadn't worked for years before that. 

He dug all the dirt out of the pool, cleaned it up and spent days getting everything working. Plus there were the requisite several trips to the hardware store and having to order a new, bigger motor before getting the fountain to work. 

After getting both pools cleaned, there were cracks in the concrete that needed to be patched, then time to dry and cure, replacing the plumbing, discovering it needed a bigger motor... all the little things that add to getting something done.
 
And of course there were many adjustments to be made. It took a long time to get the right pressure so all three pipes shot the same amount of water. One would go three feet up and another would barely dribble out the top.

All cleaned up and working. Wow. There is nothing like the sound of water splashing on a really hot day. And for the really hot nights? David installed spotlights. What a treat!  Everyone needs a water feature.

In addition to this, there were other huge projects. He and Jack decided to replace three of the concrete squares on the porch which had started to sink. This involved renting a jackhammer to break up the squares that were five to six inches thick.

Next he hauled his cement mixer over, rigged up a pulley to get it out of his truck and back in when he was finished. 
In the life and work of the Winburn clan, nothing is easy. Every project requires other projects to be started, or completed before you can get to the part you started to do. Whether it was doing massive tree trimming before starting on the fountain, or having to clear off enough area to work, it is always something.


Of course, it is fairly easy to say what the project was, but there is all the prep and cleanup. How do you get rid of that much concrete?  Little by little in the garbage cans.  

After spending a week here in August, and knocking down paper wasp nests on a daily basis, I decided that Jack should paint the ceilings blue. He got started on it, and David showed up to help. 

After renting a paint sprayer, they decided to buy a better sprayer. Sounds easy. But all the work is in the prepping. Jack spent hours hanging plastic drop cloths and wrapping beams. Then because he is who he is, David scared the bejabbers out of Jack, what you can't see is that he is hanging over the end of the balcony. For those of us (see Jack and Lauri) who have a problem with heights...even looking at this picture makes my stomach clench. 

But the results are wonderful and the blue, in addition to messing with the wasps' plans adds a lot of light to the area. 

Then there are all the little ad hoc projects. David shows up and we say something along the lines of "while you are here could you tell us ... or show us...  or help us...." And there are times he'll show up to fix something we didn't even know needed to happen, such as adding a chimney cap and making sure it is all caulked. 

Our basement was flooded when the landscapers next door blocked the street gutter during a downpour. All the water flowed down the driveway, into the window wells or under the porch and into the basement. David showed up and patched the porch steps so water could no longer go under them. He created water diversion ditches, so God forbid, something like this happens again, the water will flow into the lawn. All of this is hard physical labor. The soil is solid with rocks. After living in Michgan with mostly sandy loam, this rocky excuse for dirt is hard to deal with. 

He and Jack replaced the old, rickety fence. They had to dig out concrete footings that were huge! Another massive job that took weeks to finish.  

Then there was the day he stopped by and found Jack and me trying to get the tiller started. He got it started after a couple hours of taking the carburetor apart, putting it together, taking it part and readjusting.... When it was finally running he helped us till up the garden area. When Jack finished building the raised beds, he came back and helped us put the deer fence up.

Meanwhile he has projects galore of his own. The big one right now is restoring the log cabin so he can turn it into a blacksmith shop. He has had to replace roof beams, completely replace the roof decking, and will have to reshingle the roof, but that sort of got sidetracked because he added a skylight. He had finished installing it and was considering the next step of tar papering. But no. Jack, Robin and I bought him another skylight that was twice as big, and opens. His progress was stopped while he framed it up and got it installed. We didn't care, we were more worried about good light and ventilation.  Okay, just a little bit of guilt on my part.

This inside shot shows some of the logs he needs to replace in the corner. That is a whole other story. He has already poured a concrete cradle behind the ladder to support the bottom log on the far side of the cabin. 

Here he has the first skylight installed. It added a lot of light to the dark interior, but the second skylight really helped.

Unfortunately, before he could install the new skylight, he decided to trim the overhanging pine boughs. The thought of a limb crashing through his new skylight did not thrill him.

 

 








The ladder he is standing on is wedged on the roof of his backhoe. In the next picture you can see he is using the chain saw on a stick, which has a 15 foot pole. Scary!  Jack and I cleaned up the limbs as he sawed them off. Turn about and all that. 

On his days off, when he can't work on the cabin due to the weather, he has other projects-- rebuilding the fire pit of his forge, making special brackets for the cabin beams. Reading up on blacksmithing. Always something. 

And since we were there, he rounded up a great collection of dead yard tools for my permanent deer fence--an upcoming project. 

What I have enumerated here are just tip of the iceberg accounts. I could go on ad nauseum. After living without family for 30 years, all I can say is it is so good to be back. And David? He's not only the frosting, but the cake as well.

6 May 2012 - Birding

Early this evening Jack and I were sitting on the porch, contemplating our day, when we heard bird song--long, melodious and a bit strident. We listened but couldn't decide who it was. The leaves are big enough now that we often can't find the birds in the trees. Then, to our amazement, this beauty landed on the feeder not even 15 feet from where we sat.

Jack had his camera on his belt, so I got some good pictures. I went inside for Sibley (my favorite bird guide--introduced to me by David Swan) and we rediscovered this bird--a black headed grosbeak. After living in Michigan for 30 some odd years, it takes some reorienting to remember what the local flora and fauna are. I grew up with a grosbeak, but I sure couldn't remember this guy. 

My grandmother had a grosbeak in the house for years. She found it in the yard, can't remember if it had fallen from a nest or if her cat had presented it to her. She raised it, hand fed it (worms and bugs in the summer - seeds and meal worms in the winter) and let it fly around the house every now and then. It also had fun bathing in a pan on the kitchen floor. Even though she was a female grosbeak, her name was Junior. She looked just like this lady that has been showing up in my yard.

The hummingbirds are starting to come back. Two weeks ago when the quince began to bloom I put the first feeder out.  We saw the first male last Wednesday, then this weekend a female showed up. So I promptly filled another feeder and hung it on the backside of the house. 

I am also having fun watching a pair of Cooper's Hawks. Two years ago they nested in the yard and raised three babies. This year, I don't know where they are nesting, but they soar overhead in lazy circles, then like a flash they dive after an unsuspecting victim. I read they need to eat the equivalent of two starling-sized birds a day.  

Our yard is full of birds, mostly because we have two birdbaths, suet feeders, three thistle feeders and two sunflower feeders. The air vibrates with bird calls. When it gets quiet, I know the hawks just flew over, and the little birds are all diving for cover. 

We have many, too many, house finches, but their songs are lovely and the males are showy. We already have parents bringing babies to the feeders. 

Wonder how many broods they will have this year.

I am also loving the quail. In the winter they flocked up in big groups. We saw as many as twenty at a time under the feeders. Now they have paired off and are getting territorial about the yard. Like most birds, they have a very distinctive danger call. Their danger call sounds like they are yelling escargo! escargo! I have to laugh: what? They are afraid of snails?

29 April 2012 - Hereditary weeding

Yesterday, I was surprised to find myself channeling my Mother. She fought dandelions for years and years. I can remember that my sister and I were drafted at a very early age, to be part of her army.  As general of the forces, she would attack the weeds with her digger and throw them behind her as she progressed through the lawn. We always managed to poop out way before she did.

In my own garden, much to Jack's bemusement, I too, pitch weeds behind me as I work. Since he often ends up cleaning up behind me, he doesn't quite understand.  So today, while out digging dandelions, I realized I was in my mother's classic pose:  one knee on the ground, one knee up by my shoulder. I had to stop and laugh.

Then I had the "aha" moment. I remembered that my friend, Amy, gave me a lovely turquoise trug. It is a lightweight, flexible plastic container with handles. I could drag it along with me and pitch the weeds into it as I went. It certainly eliminated a lot of clean up. 

There is a rhythm you fall into, a sort of mindless being that lets you dig, while your head is elsewhere. It is an interesting place to be. 

 Our list for this weekend was overly ambitious as usual, but we still were able to accomplish quite a bit. High on our list was one: cleaning off the porch,and two: getting David to come haul all the steel, plus assorted machinery away so we could use the covered space behind the garage for storage instead of the porch. We definitely have storage issues, especially for yard equipment, and it does look pretty trashy. Jack says the only thing that saves us is that we don't have a car on the lawn up on blocks.

Quite a bit of stuff on the porch was furniture (dressers, bookcases, computer furniture, etc) that we didn't have room for in the house. this stuff spent the winter on the porch wrapped in tarps. Today we loaded the van and made two trips down to Savers, and managed to tuck a few more things in the basement. Wow! That freed up a lot of room. 

Neither one of us thought to take a before picture, which is really too bad, because the difference is astounding. Jack took a picture about halfway through the porch project. 

So, are you wondering about the blue ceiling?  Several years ago I read a tip from Martha Stewart. She said to paint your porch ceiling blue and it will keep wasps from building nests on your ceiling. We get so many wasps,  it is always a battle to keep the ceiling free of mud dauber nests, and paper wasp nests, so we tried it. And I am here to tell you that it works! Apparently it confuses the wasps into thinking it is the sky, and they think they can't build. Ha!

David came over and we filled his pickup with metal until his tires started to flatten out. Don't have a clue where he is going to put it all, probably on his porch!  He still needs to come back and take more things: three or four grinding wheels, a very large metal clad storage box, really old machines that aren't even made anymore, or that make parts for things that aren't made anymore. Very cool stuff, mind you, but we can't/won't use it not to mention we desperately need the room. 

Between the stuff that David took, and moving a lot more around, we were able to get almost everything off the porch. Lots left to do behind the garage, but that is another day.  The next big thing on our list is to replace the porch post that is currently sitting on the jack. That will go a long way toward making this area more livable and usable. But right now, it seems like gracious living.

I love to sit out here with my first cup of coffee in the morning. Even when the temps are in the high 40s or low 50s, with the sun coming in, it is very comfortable.

18 April 2012 - The little things

Some guy wrote a book called Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and it's all small stuff. His premise is that if you let the small stuff go, it won't take over your life and you will find inner peace.


That might work for some people, but I like the small stuff. And I must admit that the small stuff, the little things give me inner peace. And not only do I like the small stuff, it gives me great pleasure to photograph it. Spring is the perfect time of year for small stuff. Buds swell, tiny leaflets appear. If you really look, you can see miniscule flowers on some shrubs. 


I found a tiny spiderweb tucked away in a crevice. It wasn't much bigger than a silver dollar, but it had just rained, and the web had caught some rain drops. 

How gorgeous is this? 

And if you look very closely, you can see the reflection of my camera in every little drop. 

 Another one of my (many) little obsessions are lichens. Lichens can be so small and so easily overlooked, but if you look really close they are minute gardens! 

Here is a patch of lichen on a rock.  You could cover all the lichen in this picture with two fingers.  So easy to miss.

 But wait. Look at this amazing small stuff!

I have been walking every day. Granted it is only around my neighborhood, but there are all kinds of opportunities to find  wonderful little things. 

Right now the trout lilies are just starting to bloom. These little beauties are only 4 to 5 inches high at most, and I mean the entire plant.

There was no way I could walk by and not take a picture.  


Guess you would not be surprised to hear that a car pulled over and the driver asked if I was okay. 

Other small things that delight me are juxtapositions, such as these redbud blossoms pooled on an asphalt driveway after a rain. 
















 In my own yard the wind anemones are blooming. Again, they are tiny little plants whose blooms are bigger than the plant. You can see how tiny they really are next to the serendipity of the snail shell and how the quarter-sized blooms overwhelm the foliage. 

16 April 2012

It's been an emotional day. Pop died two years ago, Bennett died one year ago.

12 April 2012 - Spring snow

It is only the 12th of April, and we have already had two snowstorms. The first snow was on April Fool's Day. Fitting.  The second was today. This last week has been nothing but pure Spring.  Temps in the high 70s, warm winds that worked hard on blowing leaves and blossoms out on the trees. It worked.

The wild cherries have started to creep up the mountain and are beginning to bloom. You can see the faint tint of green beginning to show as well.


I'm sure these trees are the results of birds and deer, but it is nice to see something else growing on our rather bare hillside.


Most of the vegetation on this western exposure consists of scrub oak, sage brush and patches of prickly pear cactus.

Other garden plants have escaped and moved up the hill as well. The bright green under these rocks is a euphorbia, a fairly common ground cover in this area. Again, these were probably another result of the deer.


 I recently learned there are over 2000 varieties of euphorbia. The world is an amazing place.

Here in my yard, the quince is blooming, the crabapple buds are so full and ready to burst that the tree looks pink, the maples are blooming, the lilacs have purple spikes, the plums are in full bloom. It is lovely.


Last fall we planted crocuses in the lawn so we now have spots of bright color popping up.


It is such a fabulous time to be alive.

Another great thing about living here is you can see the storms moving across the valley. Depending on the direction of the accompanying wind you may get the strong, briny smell of the Great Salt Lake before the rain hits.

In this case we had a dust storm with the wind, then heavy rain before it turned to snow.  

Before the rain, as the clouds were moving down the mountain, it looked like this.


Lots of new little chartreuse leaves, but they didn't last long. Here's the same shot from inside.About 20 minutes later.

10 April 2012 - Pink Moon

In the world of full moon names, one of my favorite names for the April full moon is Pink Moon. This year, the Pink Moon coincided with Easter and Passover.  Why Pink Moon? This name came from the wild ground phlox, one of the earliest flowers of spring. Other names for April’s full moon include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the shad swam upstream to spawn. I like Full Fish Moon, but Pink Moon fits. Here in Salt Lake City, blooming under the Pink Moon are many pink trees: Redbuds, Weeping Cherry, Ornamental Plum, Saucer Magnolias, Flowering Almond. So many! So pink!


No full moon pictures this month. We had rain, then snow, then rain mixed with snow. Fortunately the eight inches of snow we received quickly disappeared, but the clouds obscured the moon.


I now have a new philosophy for getting things done. One thing each day. I started out thinking that a whole lot of one little things will add up. That's true, but how come my one things tend to be big things?  My first one thing was to get out the patching adhesive and slather with patching compound. Day two would be sand the patches. Day three paint. But it just doesn't ever happen that way.


Last weekend? Day one, one thing: clean out the tool corner. Here's the before. Actually, I started this the previous weekend. Pulled everything out of the corner, then realized that the handles all had a lot of sun damage, they were dry and cracking, so everything came to a halt while I rubbed mineral oil into every one.


Took longer than I thought. Then I discovered the forecast was for rain and snow.  Ended up having to pile all the tools back where they had been. humph. Unsatisfactory, except the handles really look good.


In the meantime, Jack and I went to the Depot looking for more tool racks. The plan is to clean it out again, stain the siding, install more tool racks, and voila! Yep. One little thing.


 Oh yeah, need stain. In the basement I found four gallon cans of stain. Three were half full and one was unopened. Cool!

On further inspection discovered that two had gone bad, but one of the half full cans might be okay, and the full can was fine.


Back to the weekend. Saturday, I emptied out the area again, swept the walls down, and got ready to paint. By the time I was ready to do the painting it was too late, so that was going to become the Sunday one thing.


On Sunday, David showed up. The day took a different twist. He replaced the leaky valve out front so we could turn on the outside water. I worked on cutting out more elm volunteers around the meters and where he was working. After the valve was replaced, David and I pulled three tree stumps out of the front yard. That took another hour of digging, water blasting, and chains hooked up to his truck.


I went in to see what we could rummage up for dinner. David started working on the tiller. He got it started, then oiled it up and was able to get a couple of passes made in the garden before it quit.

Monday after work,  (one thing) Jack started painting the garage tool area.


I went out front and started working on the pruning pile, (second thing)  cutting the trimmings into small enough pieces to fit in the garbage can.


 Finished  the pile, but realized that the front of the garage could use another coat of stain. (Third thing).




An hour later, the front was finished, but now I need to get another shade of stain for the doors.


Guess that could be thing one for another day.


But moving on to thing four for Monday, after finishing the garage, joined Jack on the back of the garage and started working on yet more painting, starting with a very weathered beam.

The beam was so dried out that it was  practically sucking paint out of the can. I can't tell you how good it feels to be working on the house, getting it back into shape.


While there is so much to do, my one thing a day seems to be working. Even if one thing turns into way more than one.

And the tool space? It looks really good. Maybe tomorrow we can get the tools hung up. Progress!
 

30 March 2012 - Pruning the fever

I'm sure everyone knows that nationwide, this has been an odd, really warm winter. Here in Utah, on December 30, I was out in the backyard with the mulching mower grinding up leaves for compost, after raking up all the fall leaves. Better yet, I was wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and that was enough to keep warm.

The rest of the winter was pretty much the same. Very little snow, very little cold. February was wonderful. Lots of warm weather, sun and blue skies. Even more so in March. By early March I was ready to plant flowers and pull weeds. I was getting twitchy with the need to get my fingers in the dirt. The head knows it is too early, but oh the heart. The heart wants spring.

So what do you do? You do the next best thing. You trim. Leaves are not yet out, the bones of the trees are exposed--get out the chain saws!


 Luckily for me, David has a chain saw on a stick. The stick is a 15 foot pole, so he can reach high up and cut where I point. It's great to have a brother with tools. Jack has a regular chain saw, and I have loppers and clippers.


The first tree on my list was a 50+ year old apple tree. It was extremely overgrown, suckers all the way through the tree, in some cases, the suckers were bigger than the branches. Not only that, it was growing straight up trying in vain to find light since it was surrounded by large trees.

We starting cutting and may have gone a little too far. We took it down to nothing but the big main  branches. Then we started on all the volunteers: elms, wild cherries and Russian olive trees planted by birds or the wind. At the end of the day we had a huge pile of limbs in the yard.



You can see the apple tree behind the pile. It looks like we pollarded it. Wait! We did.

While David was cutting the high stuff, Jack was cutting down another very old, dead apple tree.


We called to rent a green waste trailer, but there were so many limbs we thought we should cut them into smaller pieces to make sure everything fit. We spent the next week cutting the big pile into little piles. We worked on it every evening after I got off work. We only get the trailer for three days, so we had to be ready for it. And I was hoping we could get the entire pile in the trailer and add more.

I almost hated to see all these piles go. An unexpected benefit was the wild life that showed up. First the birds loved the big pile. Towhees and quail loved poking around the bottom and inside the pile. Juncos, chickadees and finches loved flitting around the top. The pile was so full of birds it looked alive.

After we chopped it up into all the little piles, the deer came in droves and chewed the tender ends. They would also pull branches out of the pile leaving us with yet another mess to clean up.


I admit, the deer have lost their novelty. The other night we had 15 deer munching their way through the yard. Too many!  Now I'm researching ways to keep them out of the yard. How on earth can I plant a garden or have flowers with this many deer? And about half of them are pregnant. Great.


 
  What you can't tell from the piles in the photo above is just how large some of the logs are.  Did I mention we were trying to tame a jungle?

Jack and I were loading up the last truckload of branches when we heard the chain saw going in the front yard. I looked up over the roof in time to see a huge branch from the flowering crab apple fall. You should have seen me scale the rock wall to get to the front yard.


I had mentioned to David that if we had enough room in the dumpster, there were a couple of trees in the front yard that I wanted trimmed or taken out.  He already had started on more trees and Jack and I were already tuckered out.

But a couple of hours later, we had all those chopped up as well. David had to stand on top of the bin and stomp everything down so we could get the bin covered.


Funny. We took so many trees out, and trimmed out so many others, I was worried about it might have been too much. But now that it is all cleaned up and gone, I only see how many more there are to trim and/or remove.

25 March 2012 - Typecats

Typecats. It looks like a typo for typecast. There is a large saw in the backyard that originally was hooked up to the steam engine and used for cutting trees into lumber. Over the years it has acquired all kinds of things stacked on top of it. It's the family way--any flat spot....

I was working outside with David and noticed that there were type galleys stacked on the table part of the saw. Sure enough, there was even type in the trays. The trays were extremely rusty and everything was covered with pine needles, dirt, mud dauber nests and  who knows what else. I picked the biggest pieces out, and blew as much dirt as possible off, then brought them inside. What better way to spend the evenings than sorting type. 

Thus began the treasure hunt. I found three sizes of Rosetti, complete with the alternate swash caps!; a font of Tudor Black, which is similar to an old english style; a partial font of an all cap face that I have yet to identify; and I'm still working on a pretty script that I have not identified yet either. I was out on the balcony looking for an empty case to put these in, and found a case that had Clearcut Shaded caps. Ooh! Very nice!  So much type and so much clean up needed!

But back to the typecats. I was using a high trestle table for sorting and had set it up in front of a picture window. The cats loved it! They could sit, lie, sleep on the table, watch birds, lash their tails at the deer, it  was a dream come true. Except that the galleys were in the way. Did it matter? Nope. If a piece of type was poking them, they would pick it up and drop it off the table. So kind. Bela didn't mind hanging over the edges of the steel trays. Phin, being smaller usually found a way to fit in between the trays. 

As I sorted the type into smaller cases and emptied the galleys, both cats wanted the same space. We had to referee some spats that included leg biting and head slapping.  You can clearly see that there is plenty of room for both cats, but one must be king of the castle.

2 March 2012 - Reaching a Zen State

I had an epiphany of sorts today. Ever had the experience when you are talking to someone and you say something that you had not before articulated, and it stops you dead in your tracks, as you may not have realized that you had reached that point?  Wow, that was a convoluted and confusing sentence.

Let me explain. I met Vern, one of my Dad's oldest friends for coffee today. I've known him for almost as long as I am old. He is well aware of all the challenges I face in rehabbing this house, reclaiming a yard from the jungle it has become and just the state of living here. My surprise came when I heard myself say that I had reached a zen state about the house--that I was totally calm and relaxed about what has to be done. 

I said that out loud, and inside my mind was just whirling, thoughts along this line: Oh my! That's true. When did that happen? How come I have not verbalized that before?  Did I only realize it as I said it? When we moved into the house in December, all I could see were all the items that need to be repaired, replaced, or even remodeled. Old kitchen, original floors, really leaky windows, every wall needing a new coat of paint-- the list was and is huge. 

As we began unpacking and getting more of our belongings put away the need to rush into fixing up has taken a back seat to the happiness of being here. Yes, I am still working on clean up and organizing, but all the urgency is gone. We have reached a laissez faire doctrine with the house. When and if is enough. What a great place to be. 

Every morning I get up, pour a cup of coffee and smile. I look out the kitchen window and tell Jack (for the umpteenth time) how happy I am to be here. I. Am. So. Very. Happy.  Might as well throw a bit of joy in there too! Happy happy joy joy.

But, don't think that means we haven't been working, it just means that the pressure is no longer there. We have evenings where we do nothing, but wander from window to window watching the deer come down the mountain, eat their way across the Stoker's yard then meander across the street into our yard, where they jump the fence and wander around our yard, eating sunflowers out of the bird feeder, drinking out of the birdbath and occasionally coming up on the porch to look in the window. How could anyone ignore all that free entertainment? 

In February I was able to spend a couple of weekends in the shop. Yea! Unpacked some boxes, did some organizing and clean up, and even was able to get two pieces printed for the  APA March bundle. Can I even convey how amazing it was to be able to walk out to the shop and be surrounded by so much good stuff? All my quilter friends with their copious stashes and supplies would understand.  

My office is downstairs. The stairs are raw wood. They have never been painted or finished in any way. Since I am now up and down them several times a day, I think about the stairs. I was sport shopping in my local hardware stores (I adore hardware stores) and saw a revolving rack filled with small bottles of paint samples. Well! That was an opportunity waiting to happen. 

Went home, washed the stairs a couple of times, years of ground-in dirt came out. Then I painted. The actual treads are stained not painted. I was taken with the name Oriental Ginger. The painted risers are a slight problem. Until I painted them, I never realized how often the heel of my shoe hits the riser as I go downstairs. There are lots of black scuff marks there now. But it make me smile when I climb upstairs. I still need to paint the walls, but I haven't decided whether to go bright white to add light to a dark stairway, or to go outrageous.

5 October 2011 - Changing

October. It is a month of change. The leaves turn color and begin dropping. The final roses bloom, before the profusion of rose hips weigh down the canes. Once vibrant billows of Black-eyed Susans stand stiff with bristly seed heads. While the gardener in me wants to run out and chop the blackened heads off, I wait, for these heads are a goldfinch magnet.

The garden has not yet been touched by frost, but several nights in the 40 to 42 degree range have killed the most tender of the annuals. 

The temperature changes in October are as radical as March. Yesterday our high was 46. By Saturday we should be back up to 78. I look forward to that. We have had big wind storms coming out of the east and north resulting in downed limbs, power flickering on and off, as well as long outages.

In my backyard I notice that the little birds are beginning to flock up. This includes nuthatches (both the white and rosy-breasted varieties), titmice, chickadees and even downy woodpeckers. Since we feed birds all year, we have had these birds about the feeder all summer, but now they are showing up in great numbers.

The bigger birds are flocking up too. At work, the power lines are covered with starlings. Hundreds of them—shoulder to shoulder on the lines from pole to pole. All at once they take off together, swirl around then land again. Every year I go through the same ritual. I stand in the parking lot and stare up at them wondering what kind of bird they are before I remember about starlings. They are a confusing bird. First there is the seasonal color change. Not only do they have different winter and summer colorations, but as they molt in the fall the winter feathers come in tipped in white which gives them a speckled appearance. The white tips disappear going into winter leaving the glossy/iridescent black I associate with starlings. In addition to the color changes, the starlings’ bills also change color—from yellow in the summer to black in the winter. 

The juveniles are another story. They start out a dark grayed-brown, but then in October they also start to get the white tipped winter feathers, so you can see lots of brown headed birds with black speckled bodies. What the heck is that?  No wonder I’m confused.   

Another interesting thing about starlings in the fall, is that as they gather up they all talk softly. No great squawking, squabbling cackles like you hear in the spring and summer. Just soft little murmurs. It’s no surprise that one of the group names for this bird is a murmuring of starlings. Very fitting.

And speaking of birds molting and color change, today there was a cardinal outside my window. He was in a rather pathetic state of molt. His head had bald spots and he was missing feathers from his crest. He was staying on the inside of trees. Usually cardinals are on the top of the tree singing their little hearts out. 

October also brings a new source entertainment for both myself and the cats. The squirrels are in full mating dance. This involves long chases around, up and through trees. This goes on for days before a female picks a proper male. This morning I was watching a pair spiral down a huge cottonwood tree across the street. Pandacat was crouched at the bottom watching. When the squirrels were about three feet from the ground,  Pandacat couldn’t stand it any longer and dashed up the tree after them. For a moment all three were frozen in a three way face off. 

On my lunch hour I took a friend up to the Berry Lake Nature Preserve. We wolfed down our sandwiches so we could hit the trails. Elisa is a very copasetic friend. We both quilt (although she actually finishes projects), we both love to take picture. Having a beautiful place to walk? Fabulous. We sat in the car with our sandwiches watching a really fat squirrel eat acorns. Then a doe came wandering by. Good start! I am fond of Berry Lake because it has series of very large ponds, or maybe small lakes.


At any rate, it is home to swans, Canadas, lots of ducks and even more duckweed, and the occasional flotilla of seagulls. Fallen trees often look like alligators lurking in the duckweed. Duckweed is also a favorite of mine. In calm water the current curls it around in swirly patterns. When there is a breeze, it all piles up on one side of the lake.
 
Naturally duck weed calls for the obligatory ducks. Considering how the ducks nibble their way through the duck weed, it is surprising to see the quantity still available.


Many of the trees sport bat houses. If you watch carefully you can spot the occasional woodpecker and even small hawks.
 
The park also has a very picturesque covered bridge that is often used for engagement photo backgrounds, the occasional wedding party and other gatherings.


We saw eight huge wooly bears lumbering across the path during our walk. Fat wooly bears are supposed to signify a hard winter. In all my time here in Michigan, I have never before seen eight in one day. We usually spot them in the yard during fall clean up. But it might only be one or two. 

 Right now, with all the changing colors the park is particularly spectacular. I am most fond of the vine covered trees. The vines turn dark red and really light up the landscape. It is fall's version of wrapping tree trunks with Christmas lights.

Elisa is also an avid techie. She and her family are big into geocaching and waymarking. When we hit the park the first thing she did was pull out her handheld gps and look to see if there was a geocache anywhere in the park. Yes, there was one. And I found it! Elisa says I am no longer a geocaching virgin. 


Were I to get interested in this, I would get myself a geocache name, and log all the sites I’ve been to online. Complete with picture of the site. Good grief. In this case, the cache was a large plastic bottle hidden in a hollow base of a tree.


Inside of the bottle is a notebook to write down your cache name, the date and where you are from. Since this geocache was considered easy, it had toys for kids in it. Kids can take one, if they leave one. Elisa carries special one inch square tiles with her name Scrapcat on one side and a picture, in this case a flamingo, on the other. She left a tile in the cache. Weird. This is really becoming a big thing for families to do together. I'm all for anything that gets today’s kids outdoors.

Here is the cache, hidden, revealed, and with
me holding the cache.

        

           

21 September 2011 - Fallen

Our year of odd weather continues thus far into September. While the Autumnal Equinox is still a few days away, we fell hard into fall in early September. Several days of cold rain accompanied by a cold front took us down into the low 40s for almost a week. After that, I think all the trees shook their leaves and said “That’s it! We’re not making any more chlorophyll.”  Since then leaves have been turning color at an exponential rate. No gentle easing into a more colorful state. Overnight the air had a snap to it, that snap one associates with the first juicy cold bite into a just-picked apple. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the fall. I love the crisp air, how the sun warms your back even though the air is cool. I love the multi-hued trees and the way the fields change into so many shades of yellow: from the palest straw to the deepest golds and I love how all that gold is occasionally punctuated by the purple of fall asters or the dark red of bare branches.

I love hearing the scratch and scurry of dried leaves being blown down the pavement like the scrabble of little mouse feet in the attic. I love walking in the gutters, scuffling my feet to make the dry leaves dance and rise into swirls before gently floating back down to the curb.

Even the clouds in the fall are different. In my secret little perfect world, I would have some place to lie and watch clouds form and skid across the sky. Something high enough where I could see from horizon to horizon. Several years ago, Jack and I met for lunch where we could sit outside overlooking a golf course.  The sky was totally blue, but as we ate we watched cumulus clouds form on the horizon: from small skiffs to towering billows that blew apart and disappeared. It was magic. I didn’t want to go back to work, I just wanted to watch clouds appear and disappear. 

Perhaps I should find a new career as a cloud reader. It would be something like reading tea leaves in the bottom of a tea cup, except my cup would be the bowl of the sky. Hmm, if I actually put some thought into this and came up with a system, I could be the next Linda Goodman. She had such a franchise going with all the Sun Sign books. Then there was Llewellyn’s Moon Signs followed by the combination book of Sun and Moon Signs by yet another person. But I digress. 

Meanwhile, the gardens are just about done. This spring a neighbor offered us ten tiny starts from her black raspberry bushes. “Sure!” I said.  We planted them down the middle of a raised bed. We watered, weeded and hovered. Are they taking? Think they will live?  In a few short months these tiny plants have become the monsters of the garden. What were we thinking? Some of the canes are 12 feet long. Who knew?  Where the canes touch the ground, (they do and they have) they send out roots, deep and stubborn roots that grow in the path and refuse to be pulled up. 

I haven’t mentioned the thorns on these. Unbelievable thorns. Nasty. Okay, the berries were mighty tasty, but I’m thinking I may take the leather gloves and clip these down right into the yard waste can. They are definitely lethal and it gives a whole new level of understanding to Br’er Rabbit and his briar patch. Writing this makes me laugh. As a child reading Uncle Remus stories, I always thought people were saying briar rabbit because he lived in a briar thicket.  I had no context for Br’er.