Good morning!
December 13, 2007
Snot nose. It is really hard to look around earnestly when one has a head cold. So far, going better than expected. Starting to get into the cabin fever stage -- impatiently awaiting clear nostrils.
Every morning I cut a little grass for Annie. This morning I found some fine dandelions. Then I noticed the greenery of a few carrots. I pulled a few. I kept one for Sharon and myself. Mighty sweet.
Reflecting on winter. Think like mid November to mid February. In the writings of the English nobility, this is the Grease Season. Definitely a meat season. Venison and beef and sheep and nice fat geese. All coupled with parties. Not much mention of running around outside. The hunting season was earlier.
But over in Russia the peasants spoke of going to bed and staying there. A way to keep warm, reduce the need for fuel and for food. Three months in bed.
A recent book mentions the poor in France who lived in caves. Much the same as the Russians above. Reports mention up to a dozen persons in one bed.
What do you do when it gets cold, snowy, and the prospects of food-on-foot sparse? Time to go to the hoard. Probably not much variety. Did story telling begin in a bed? At this time the English nobility (think Queen Elizabeth the First) bathed maybe once a month. The Russians and French less. I wonder how far away one could smell human habitations. These English were the same that said the Irish were savages.
I do notice days getting shorter. I do not welcome the arrival of winter. I have never understood people who like to ski. I tried ice skating but my feet got cold. The bonfire was nice. Maybe it is because my family burned wood and I was the wood cutter?
Nowadays one can watch TV. Not much variety. Two months to go!
December 16, 2007
Temperature starts at 31. When we went to bed it was 29.
This is my first day without some kind of medication. My nostrils are clear!
Saw a coyote in the upper pasture this morning. Walked up the road to get a closer look. It was gone.
It cleared early afternoon. The boys wanted to go outside. They go to the door, look out and then look at me. They don’t meow. They are waiting for me to catch their idea. Cappy spent about half an hour up a madrone. Manny raced down to the gazebo. Then both crossed the creek. Manny up a tree. Cappy across the creek on a fallen tree. Cappy under the coast redwood. Manny under the redwood. Cappy races out and collides forcefully with my leg. Up a tree. Further up the tree. Out on a limb. I cannot look and come in. Half an hour later Cappy comes in. Manny hunts mice on Strawberry Hill. He comes in half an hour later.
The rain started late afternoon. Snow warning for above 2500 feet starting at midnight. This is our first winter storm. Generally by Thanksgiving the Ashland Ski Resort has skiable snow. Not so this year. They are asking for donations.
Forecast is for wet snow on the 24th and 25th. I am gathering dry wood for the Yuletide bonfire.
Have a good week.
Poppy
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Landed in Oregon XXIII
Good Morning!
December 3, 2007
How do you spell relief? Annie eagerly took her bread this morning.
Temp. 47 degrees. Rain. Heavy at times. At Cape Blanco, on the coast and a couple of hundred miles from here, the wind hit 113 today. Here, we had some mild wind. Not enough rain to flush the creek of its leaves.
Turkeys in the rain.
I noticed a couple of leaves on the magnolia tree. Also, on the apple there are some lower, newer branches, that still have solid green leaves.
On the supposition that Annie loss of appetite had to do with the gourmet rabbit food I bought her last week, today I bought some fresh good old fashioned alfalfa rabbit pellets.
Report on the Tacoma. First change of tires: 76,000 miles. First change of battery: 7 years. Replaced one back brake light: 8 years. Replaced one broken headlight: 9 years. The camper shell Sharon bought when the Tacoma was new has been flaking off its color for two years. It rear lifting window’s hardware for holding it open and closed stopped working this year. Replaced them today. Sometime, when I still smoked and Murphy rode with me, I stepped on the brakes and Murphy slid off the seat and broke the ashtray. This would have been like when the pickup was 3-4 years old. That was when the ashtray was replaced.
December 9, 2007
If you have a question, the answer is that I have one fulltime head cold. No room right now in the head for anything else. (Except for you.)
Have a good week.
Poppy
December 3, 2007
How do you spell relief? Annie eagerly took her bread this morning.
Temp. 47 degrees. Rain. Heavy at times. At Cape Blanco, on the coast and a couple of hundred miles from here, the wind hit 113 today. Here, we had some mild wind. Not enough rain to flush the creek of its leaves.
Turkeys in the rain.
I noticed a couple of leaves on the magnolia tree. Also, on the apple there are some lower, newer branches, that still have solid green leaves.
On the supposition that Annie loss of appetite had to do with the gourmet rabbit food I bought her last week, today I bought some fresh good old fashioned alfalfa rabbit pellets.
Report on the Tacoma. First change of tires: 76,000 miles. First change of battery: 7 years. Replaced one back brake light: 8 years. Replaced one broken headlight: 9 years. The camper shell Sharon bought when the Tacoma was new has been flaking off its color for two years. It rear lifting window’s hardware for holding it open and closed stopped working this year. Replaced them today. Sometime, when I still smoked and Murphy rode with me, I stepped on the brakes and Murphy slid off the seat and broke the ashtray. This would have been like when the pickup was 3-4 years old. That was when the ashtray was replaced.
December 9, 2007
If you have a question, the answer is that I have one fulltime head cold. No room right now in the head for anything else. (Except for you.)
Have a good week.
Poppy
Monday, December 3, 2007
Landed in OregonXXII
Good Morning!
November 26, 2007
Little warmer this morning: 32. No riotous robins. Gave Annie some bread and Brat some grain. Later in the morning I cut madrone for Brat. Annie I gave different seeds and nuts. I think she is becoming partial to blanched raw peanuts.
Cleaned Cap’s and Manners’ litter boxes. Read about operating a chipper. Fixed the pulley on the weight bench. Leveled the washer. More active outside. It was not all that warmer. Maybe I am becoming accustomed to colder mornings?
First thing, Sharon to Eagle Point. Met a locksmith who worked on the door of Daughter Number One. Met an appraiser. Asked me to do research on rottweilers. Amelia’s dad bought a puppy.
This evening it started to rain.
November 28, 2007
Across the valley today to Ashland. Huge banks of fog at the base of the western hills. Ashland was crowded. Market of Choice was delightful. Basque cheese.
A lost story: A squirrel destroyed the finch feeder some months ago. The finch have moved on. I miss them.
Another: The coast redwood behind the gazebo continues to race skyward. When initially planted, before the gazebo, there were two. It was an exposed area -- hot and dry. One died. This one turned bushy, creating its own shade. Once its roots reached water, it was off and running. It is starting to overgrow the gazebo, but has not yet started to push the gazebo over. Off course, once the gazebo was built, for a few years the gazebo’s shadow sheltered the redwood.
Another: Remember last summer and we cut Cappy’s fur and now mornings are cold? It grew back nicely. And, like last year, when it starts getting colder Cappy starts eating. I think he is about 5 pounds heavier.
November 29, 2007
There are two groups of snowy egrets. One group, about a dozen birds, is partial to the fields near Heather’s Corner. The other group, about two dozen birds, works the field across from Fort Vanoy school.
December 1, 2007
Today was Abber-Jabber’s birthday party. She will be three on the 11th. Don’t ask. This is the third party. All of the kids are getting older. The party went smoothly. I think the parents are also getting more experienced at these things. It will soon be time for games and prizes. Her father gave her a battery powered jeep. Equivalent to giving me a D8 Caterpillar tractor.
December 2, 2007
Rainy Sunday morning. Warm rain. Annie is off her feed. Found a dead mouse in her water bowl. Maybe that is it? Fresh water. Tried green grass and hay. The hay seemed to interest her. Stay tuned.
Have a good week,
Poppy
November 26, 2007
Little warmer this morning: 32. No riotous robins. Gave Annie some bread and Brat some grain. Later in the morning I cut madrone for Brat. Annie I gave different seeds and nuts. I think she is becoming partial to blanched raw peanuts.
Cleaned Cap’s and Manners’ litter boxes. Read about operating a chipper. Fixed the pulley on the weight bench. Leveled the washer. More active outside. It was not all that warmer. Maybe I am becoming accustomed to colder mornings?
First thing, Sharon to Eagle Point. Met a locksmith who worked on the door of Daughter Number One. Met an appraiser. Asked me to do research on rottweilers. Amelia’s dad bought a puppy.
This evening it started to rain.
November 28, 2007
Across the valley today to Ashland. Huge banks of fog at the base of the western hills. Ashland was crowded. Market of Choice was delightful. Basque cheese.
A lost story: A squirrel destroyed the finch feeder some months ago. The finch have moved on. I miss them.
Another: The coast redwood behind the gazebo continues to race skyward. When initially planted, before the gazebo, there were two. It was an exposed area -- hot and dry. One died. This one turned bushy, creating its own shade. Once its roots reached water, it was off and running. It is starting to overgrow the gazebo, but has not yet started to push the gazebo over. Off course, once the gazebo was built, for a few years the gazebo’s shadow sheltered the redwood.
Another: Remember last summer and we cut Cappy’s fur and now mornings are cold? It grew back nicely. And, like last year, when it starts getting colder Cappy starts eating. I think he is about 5 pounds heavier.
November 29, 2007
There are two groups of snowy egrets. One group, about a dozen birds, is partial to the fields near Heather’s Corner. The other group, about two dozen birds, works the field across from Fort Vanoy school.
December 1, 2007
Today was Abber-Jabber’s birthday party. She will be three on the 11th. Don’t ask. This is the third party. All of the kids are getting older. The party went smoothly. I think the parents are also getting more experienced at these things. It will soon be time for games and prizes. Her father gave her a battery powered jeep. Equivalent to giving me a D8 Caterpillar tractor.
December 2, 2007
Rainy Sunday morning. Warm rain. Annie is off her feed. Found a dead mouse in her water bowl. Maybe that is it? Fresh water. Tried green grass and hay. The hay seemed to interest her. Stay tuned.
Have a good week,
Poppy
Monday, November 19, 2007
Landed in Oregon XX
Good Morning!
November 14, 2007
The robins came by today. They are checking out the ripening madrone berries and what worms are near to the surface. Not a deafening group as sometimes in the past. I think they are coming down from the forests. It is like a trapper rendezvous. Not a chaos of robins, merely a frolic of robins.
Been gradually expanding the road space, clearing encroaching brush.
Annie now looks forward to her sunflower seed. Each morning I feed her some and place the balance in her feeding bowl. It is always gone by next morning. Sunflower is good because of the high content of oil. I think she is putting on some weight. Too soon to call her Pudge. I wonder if she might be interested in other nuts -- raw of course?
November 15, 2007
The snowy egrets are here but in a new area. Mostly, this year, they have been handing out down by Fort Vanoy School.
November 16, 2007
Have tried shaved Brazil nuts (took me while to remember the name) along with sunflower seed. Annie thinks they are okay along with her whole wheat bread. Again, I leave a little in her hutch and it is gone by the time I arrive next day.
The rendezvousing robins are in the neighborhood but fewer I think from past years.
Very windy all day and warm -- got up to seventy-one.
November 18, 2007
Cleaning out and painting the laundry room. Half done. Hope to finish Monday. Water heater removal Monday. Linoleum layers Tuesday. Water heater return Wednesday. New washer and dryer Friday.
Have a good week.
November 14, 2007
The robins came by today. They are checking out the ripening madrone berries and what worms are near to the surface. Not a deafening group as sometimes in the past. I think they are coming down from the forests. It is like a trapper rendezvous. Not a chaos of robins, merely a frolic of robins.
Been gradually expanding the road space, clearing encroaching brush.
Annie now looks forward to her sunflower seed. Each morning I feed her some and place the balance in her feeding bowl. It is always gone by next morning. Sunflower is good because of the high content of oil. I think she is putting on some weight. Too soon to call her Pudge. I wonder if she might be interested in other nuts -- raw of course?
November 15, 2007
The snowy egrets are here but in a new area. Mostly, this year, they have been handing out down by Fort Vanoy School.
November 16, 2007
Have tried shaved Brazil nuts (took me while to remember the name) along with sunflower seed. Annie thinks they are okay along with her whole wheat bread. Again, I leave a little in her hutch and it is gone by the time I arrive next day.
The rendezvousing robins are in the neighborhood but fewer I think from past years.
Very windy all day and warm -- got up to seventy-one.
November 18, 2007
Cleaning out and painting the laundry room. Half done. Hope to finish Monday. Water heater removal Monday. Linoleum layers Tuesday. Water heater return Wednesday. New washer and dryer Friday.
Have a good week.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Landed in OregonXIX
Good Morning!
November 5, 2007
Woke up this morning smelling skunk. Strong. No windows open. How? Later in the morning checked outside. By the apple tree and around the Sun Room, the scent -- as it were, stink -- was strong.
Discovered Annie likes sunflower seeds. Eats them out of the palm of one’s hand. Her whiskers tickle.
November 6, 2007
Thirty-eight degrees and foggy. Over in Klamath Falls this past weekend they had fog and three dozen vehicles piled up. Klamath Falls is on average nearly ten degrees cooler than here. It is three thousand feet higher.
November 8, 2007
Cappy is a jealous cat
Looks cross eyed
when his brother
Sits in Sharon’s lap
November 10, 2007
It is a Halloween time of year. The leaves, some losing all color, are falling. Light winds blow them into corners. Turkeys come and scratching must see what lies under them. Mushrooms sprout, tipsy, tippy little umbrellas for tiny folk. The wire sculpture in the middle of the garden, its shiny metal tape was once covered by climbing beans, now is held down by dead, black tendrils -- oddly misshapen and a bit spooky at night. Green tomatoes lie on the ground. Things look dead and dying. One starts to feel the rain coming hours and sometimes a day before it arrives. Sole gun metal clouds have become one overriding cloud that at night comes to rest upon the ground. We wake in the morning in the middle of a cloud. Lazy cloud. Maybe back up in the sky by noon. Like California poppies: they sleep in. But the California poppies are not dying at all. They are thriving. Yellows and golds. Like they haven’t heard: Summer ended awhile ago. Poppies’ reply, Who cares!.
November 11, 2007
I fell another long spindly oak, leaning out over the road. Gradually clearing the road for -- the future fire truck or UPS drivers or Bonnie & Jim or our new neighbors to the north.
Have a good week!
November 5, 2007
Woke up this morning smelling skunk. Strong. No windows open. How? Later in the morning checked outside. By the apple tree and around the Sun Room, the scent -- as it were, stink -- was strong.
Discovered Annie likes sunflower seeds. Eats them out of the palm of one’s hand. Her whiskers tickle.
November 6, 2007
Thirty-eight degrees and foggy. Over in Klamath Falls this past weekend they had fog and three dozen vehicles piled up. Klamath Falls is on average nearly ten degrees cooler than here. It is three thousand feet higher.
November 8, 2007
Cappy is a jealous cat
Looks cross eyed
when his brother
Sits in Sharon’s lap
November 10, 2007
It is a Halloween time of year. The leaves, some losing all color, are falling. Light winds blow them into corners. Turkeys come and scratching must see what lies under them. Mushrooms sprout, tipsy, tippy little umbrellas for tiny folk. The wire sculpture in the middle of the garden, its shiny metal tape was once covered by climbing beans, now is held down by dead, black tendrils -- oddly misshapen and a bit spooky at night. Green tomatoes lie on the ground. Things look dead and dying. One starts to feel the rain coming hours and sometimes a day before it arrives. Sole gun metal clouds have become one overriding cloud that at night comes to rest upon the ground. We wake in the morning in the middle of a cloud. Lazy cloud. Maybe back up in the sky by noon. Like California poppies: they sleep in. But the California poppies are not dying at all. They are thriving. Yellows and golds. Like they haven’t heard: Summer ended awhile ago. Poppies’ reply, Who cares!.
November 11, 2007
I fell another long spindly oak, leaning out over the road. Gradually clearing the road for -- the future fire truck or UPS drivers or Bonnie & Jim or our new neighbors to the north.
Have a good week!
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Landed in Oregon XVIII
October 30, 2007
Can’t get over it. There is a place between the yard and the lower pasture, an opening in the fence where I drive the mower through, about six feet, where Manny hunts mice. I have actually seen a mouse on two occasions, hustle across this opening. It is the same place Marty, Mr. Toot, sat and hunted nearly ten years ago. And there are two other spots, at the edge of the grass, where both Toot hunted and Mr. Manners now hunts. The two never met each other. There were a couple of years between the two. These have to be mice runways and habitat that have been consistent for over ten years. Yes both cats did and have caught mice in these spots but the mice are still there -- as over the past ten years the cats have been there.
Is it possible that there might be spots on earth where mice have lived in successive generations longer than humans? How about Machu Pichu? Mice before the Incas? Mice now?
November 1, 2007
This week we had thunder boomers one night. A little rain. Two mornings at 50 degrees.
This week Jack visited. He is a Russell Terrier. About seven years old. A little gray. Absoulutely sedate at far as RT’s go, bouncing only about 90% of the time. He met Brat. Brat met him. They touched noses. Brat said, What kind of goat are you? and he lowered his head and butted the metal gate between them. Whereupon Jack snarled, You barbarian! Come over here and I will kill you kill you several times. It was a stand-off for Brat and a bounce-up for Jack.
Annie was spying Jack from afar. When he saw her he shivered all over. I think she was impressed with the way he could jump. Later they touched noses. Over night she dug so much in her burrow it was almost impossible to get in her cage. Do you suppose she was making room for him down there?
We had a small dinner with friends Halloween night. And laughed and laughed until we shrieked and snorted. Towels for tears. A sure test of the flexibility of ribs. Sharon laughed until she put her back out. Go figure.
Mostly sunny today. A beautiful day. Leaves now cover the creek banks down to the flowing water, a cacophony of fall colors! Slippery with leaves.
I spent some time this afternoon cutting blackberry vines away from the large Sequoia. Tree said, Thank you.
Saw a large nuthatch, coming in for the sunflower seed.
November 2, 2007
Saw Spike. His coat is getting darker. Like light-adjusting glasses, winter gets closer and his coat gets darker, catching the solar heat of the sun. How very clever. I suppose it is patented.
We have three outside faucets: two attached to the house and one standing alone. Disconnected their hoses for winter. Used a tomato cage around the single alone faucet and then buried it in straw. Does one need to use the cage? Yes, because the turkeys will come and scratch to see what is under the straw and will uncover the faucet. Now they are simply frustrated -- which is a good thing for turkeys.
Used straw to berm the pump house for winter. Then used on top some leaves and needles -- mulch.
November 3, 2007
Foggy misty morning. The mugho pine outside the study window is about seven feet tall. It has a couple of dozen small spider condos. They were all painted by the mist this morning.
To the dump outside Merlin, Oregon. The transfer station was not too busy. During World War II with gasoline rationing we used the pickup each weekend for hauling garbage. I remember one or more flat tires while doing this. The tires were thin, the road was rocky, and debris sometimes spilled onto the road. The other times we used the pickup was when my dad went hunting or fishing. This time of year, it was important to get the “cellar” filled in preparation for winter. For storing meat we used the freezer down at Charley's Meat Market. In September or so my dad would visit the fruit growing areas of Idaho and bring back apples and peaches and onions and potatoes, lots of bushel baskets. My folks would have canning sessions. It was always a race to Spring and whether the onions or potatoes or apples would turn to mush before we could eat them. I learned to drive on the garbage hauling trips. When I was 13-14 he started allowing me to haul the garbage by myself.
November 4, 2007
Got up. Dark. No sun. Really socked in this morning.
When I went into the Sun Room to let the boys out, they were back to back about a foot apart. Neither left their spot and neither turned around when I walked past. Nor did they leave their respective spots until some time later. A cat spat.
The boys play, as brothers. And sometimes the play gets a little too harsh and then the fur flies. Sometimes Cappy ends up running and sometimes Manny. It might take them a couple of days to recover from a tiff.
Can’t get over it. There is a place between the yard and the lower pasture, an opening in the fence where I drive the mower through, about six feet, where Manny hunts mice. I have actually seen a mouse on two occasions, hustle across this opening. It is the same place Marty, Mr. Toot, sat and hunted nearly ten years ago. And there are two other spots, at the edge of the grass, where both Toot hunted and Mr. Manners now hunts. The two never met each other. There were a couple of years between the two. These have to be mice runways and habitat that have been consistent for over ten years. Yes both cats did and have caught mice in these spots but the mice are still there -- as over the past ten years the cats have been there.
Is it possible that there might be spots on earth where mice have lived in successive generations longer than humans? How about Machu Pichu? Mice before the Incas? Mice now?
November 1, 2007
This week we had thunder boomers one night. A little rain. Two mornings at 50 degrees.
This week Jack visited. He is a Russell Terrier. About seven years old. A little gray. Absoulutely sedate at far as RT’s go, bouncing only about 90% of the time. He met Brat. Brat met him. They touched noses. Brat said, What kind of goat are you? and he lowered his head and butted the metal gate between them. Whereupon Jack snarled, You barbarian! Come over here and I will kill you kill you several times. It was a stand-off for Brat and a bounce-up for Jack.
Annie was spying Jack from afar. When he saw her he shivered all over. I think she was impressed with the way he could jump. Later they touched noses. Over night she dug so much in her burrow it was almost impossible to get in her cage. Do you suppose she was making room for him down there?
We had a small dinner with friends Halloween night. And laughed and laughed until we shrieked and snorted. Towels for tears. A sure test of the flexibility of ribs. Sharon laughed until she put her back out. Go figure.
Mostly sunny today. A beautiful day. Leaves now cover the creek banks down to the flowing water, a cacophony of fall colors! Slippery with leaves.
I spent some time this afternoon cutting blackberry vines away from the large Sequoia. Tree said, Thank you.
Saw a large nuthatch, coming in for the sunflower seed.
November 2, 2007
Saw Spike. His coat is getting darker. Like light-adjusting glasses, winter gets closer and his coat gets darker, catching the solar heat of the sun. How very clever. I suppose it is patented.
We have three outside faucets: two attached to the house and one standing alone. Disconnected their hoses for winter. Used a tomato cage around the single alone faucet and then buried it in straw. Does one need to use the cage? Yes, because the turkeys will come and scratch to see what is under the straw and will uncover the faucet. Now they are simply frustrated -- which is a good thing for turkeys.
Used straw to berm the pump house for winter. Then used on top some leaves and needles -- mulch.
November 3, 2007
Foggy misty morning. The mugho pine outside the study window is about seven feet tall. It has a couple of dozen small spider condos. They were all painted by the mist this morning.
To the dump outside Merlin, Oregon. The transfer station was not too busy. During World War II with gasoline rationing we used the pickup each weekend for hauling garbage. I remember one or more flat tires while doing this. The tires were thin, the road was rocky, and debris sometimes spilled onto the road. The other times we used the pickup was when my dad went hunting or fishing. This time of year, it was important to get the “cellar” filled in preparation for winter. For storing meat we used the freezer down at Charley's Meat Market. In September or so my dad would visit the fruit growing areas of Idaho and bring back apples and peaches and onions and potatoes, lots of bushel baskets. My folks would have canning sessions. It was always a race to Spring and whether the onions or potatoes or apples would turn to mush before we could eat them. I learned to drive on the garbage hauling trips. When I was 13-14 he started allowing me to haul the garbage by myself.
November 4, 2007
Got up. Dark. No sun. Really socked in this morning.
When I went into the Sun Room to let the boys out, they were back to back about a foot apart. Neither left their spot and neither turned around when I walked past. Nor did they leave their respective spots until some time later. A cat spat.
The boys play, as brothers. And sometimes the play gets a little too harsh and then the fur flies. Sometimes Cappy ends up running and sometimes Manny. It might take them a couple of days to recover from a tiff.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Landed in Oregon XVII
October 27, 2007
Another lost week. Today is the second day of frosty mornings. Friday was 30 degrees and today was 28. Fall is ending. Winter is coming.
The cats are not ready. They sleep in the Sun Room. Each morning, I open the doors to the outside. Manny sometimes jumps down and beats me to the yet to be opened door. This morning he was beside his brother. He didn’t budge. His nose was buried in Cappy’s fur. Waiting for the sun.
With frost, more leaves are falling. Some trees are denuded. I checked the pool -- probably should call it the Leaf Pool. It is downstream. About 30-40 feet long. I have planted redwoods on one side and a sequoia on the other. In one place there is a sword fern with fronds about six feet long. Each Fall leaves pile up, clogging, building back over the pond, becoming waterlogged, and settling to the bottom. Beneath the clear water, the pond’s bottom takes on the colors of Fall. This year, the dam is in place, and the back up is building, but very few leaves yet on the bottom.
The English called winter the Grease Season. In the winter I add 10-20 pounds. I start craving pork. When younger I craved venison and the fat of beef. It has yet to start this year, but the bacon is in the freezer ready.
Housework. Doing little winter-get-ready things.
October 28, 2007
Beautiful autumn day. High thirties to low sixties.
This afternoon I watched Brat, the goat, watch Cappy, the cat, sneak up on his brother, Mr. Manners, who knew his brother was sneaking up on him about half an hour before he got there.
Casper caught a mouse this afternoon, but did not know what to do with it. He played with it. Finally, during a period when Cappy zoned out, the mouse escaped. Not bad for a deaf cat!
Another lost week. Today is the second day of frosty mornings. Friday was 30 degrees and today was 28. Fall is ending. Winter is coming.
The cats are not ready. They sleep in the Sun Room. Each morning, I open the doors to the outside. Manny sometimes jumps down and beats me to the yet to be opened door. This morning he was beside his brother. He didn’t budge. His nose was buried in Cappy’s fur. Waiting for the sun.
With frost, more leaves are falling. Some trees are denuded. I checked the pool -- probably should call it the Leaf Pool. It is downstream. About 30-40 feet long. I have planted redwoods on one side and a sequoia on the other. In one place there is a sword fern with fronds about six feet long. Each Fall leaves pile up, clogging, building back over the pond, becoming waterlogged, and settling to the bottom. Beneath the clear water, the pond’s bottom takes on the colors of Fall. This year, the dam is in place, and the back up is building, but very few leaves yet on the bottom.
The English called winter the Grease Season. In the winter I add 10-20 pounds. I start craving pork. When younger I craved venison and the fat of beef. It has yet to start this year, but the bacon is in the freezer ready.
Housework. Doing little winter-get-ready things.
October 28, 2007
Beautiful autumn day. High thirties to low sixties.
This afternoon I watched Brat, the goat, watch Cappy, the cat, sneak up on his brother, Mr. Manners, who knew his brother was sneaking up on him about half an hour before he got there.
Casper caught a mouse this afternoon, but did not know what to do with it. He played with it. Finally, during a period when Cappy zoned out, the mouse escaped. Not bad for a deaf cat!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Landed in Oregon XV
October 9, 2007
Once or twice a year I cut blackberry vines across the creek. I do not like vines with thorns. I do not like rose bushes. It falls in the same category as I do not like rattlesnakes. The plants can send out vines that cross the old road. I want to keep at least a path on that road. There are a couple of stories here. One is watching the road fill in. The other is maintaining a path.
Mr. Manners went with me. He was very vocal: soft: whispered, frequent mew-mew sounds. He stayed behind me except on those occasions when he took shortcuts. It was like he was looking out for me, was telling me about this place, was being a tour guide. There were few blackberry vines to cut.
On the path there are places where trees have fallen and are still alive. One can duck under them or step over them. There are places where snags have fallen. Step over. One of these times I will work with them: move, cut and so on. In a few places there is encroachment by poison oak. I cut and spray. There are more and more volunteer trees in the old roadway. The road was packed too hard; for a few years after the road closed there were no new trees. Enough leaves have now fallen, the road has softened enough, that all kinds of vegetation is making inroads.
The difference between Mr. Manners and his brother. Manny stayed behind me. Mr. Casper runs ahead, then stops and seems to listen. He is deaf. Then he runs on.
October 11, 2007
Ticks are back. A little rain and Sharon picked several ticks from Mr. Manners.
October 13, 2007
Across the creek again. This time to plant iris bulbs per Sharon. In places the ground is still hard. Rose campion blooming. Red, red iridescent beneath the riparian canopy!! Did I mention rose campion in the plant blooming survey?
The grass is greening up. Should be great by Thanksgiving.
October 14, 2007
Annually, generally after the first rains of Fall, I rake the fallen leaves on each side of the road and wheel barrow it to the mulch pile near the English walnut tree. Today I did the road in from the mail box -- from the gate to the culvert, about 200 feet. I did some raking on the road up to Bonnie and Jim’s.
Annie is really digging. It is like she is planning to double her underground domain or escape -- whichever. The dirt is piling up in her cage. It was getting difficult to open the door. There is a pile of fresh dirt outside her pen. We are using it in different places. Yesterday I was filling pots for Sharon. Annie stopped her digging and watched. She watched me shovel. Clearly she has an appreciation for dirt moving techniques and tools.
Starting to see more reds. However, the ginkgo is yellow. The walnut tree has a band of yellow at the bottom. Is green at top. We are picking up about a dozen walnuts each day.
Once or twice a year I cut blackberry vines across the creek. I do not like vines with thorns. I do not like rose bushes. It falls in the same category as I do not like rattlesnakes. The plants can send out vines that cross the old road. I want to keep at least a path on that road. There are a couple of stories here. One is watching the road fill in. The other is maintaining a path.
Mr. Manners went with me. He was very vocal: soft: whispered, frequent mew-mew sounds. He stayed behind me except on those occasions when he took shortcuts. It was like he was looking out for me, was telling me about this place, was being a tour guide. There were few blackberry vines to cut.
On the path there are places where trees have fallen and are still alive. One can duck under them or step over them. There are places where snags have fallen. Step over. One of these times I will work with them: move, cut and so on. In a few places there is encroachment by poison oak. I cut and spray. There are more and more volunteer trees in the old roadway. The road was packed too hard; for a few years after the road closed there were no new trees. Enough leaves have now fallen, the road has softened enough, that all kinds of vegetation is making inroads.
The difference between Mr. Manners and his brother. Manny stayed behind me. Mr. Casper runs ahead, then stops and seems to listen. He is deaf. Then he runs on.
October 11, 2007
Ticks are back. A little rain and Sharon picked several ticks from Mr. Manners.
October 13, 2007
Across the creek again. This time to plant iris bulbs per Sharon. In places the ground is still hard. Rose campion blooming. Red, red iridescent beneath the riparian canopy!! Did I mention rose campion in the plant blooming survey?
The grass is greening up. Should be great by Thanksgiving.
October 14, 2007
Annually, generally after the first rains of Fall, I rake the fallen leaves on each side of the road and wheel barrow it to the mulch pile near the English walnut tree. Today I did the road in from the mail box -- from the gate to the culvert, about 200 feet. I did some raking on the road up to Bonnie and Jim’s.
Annie is really digging. It is like she is planning to double her underground domain or escape -- whichever. The dirt is piling up in her cage. It was getting difficult to open the door. There is a pile of fresh dirt outside her pen. We are using it in different places. Yesterday I was filling pots for Sharon. Annie stopped her digging and watched. She watched me shovel. Clearly she has an appreciation for dirt moving techniques and tools.
Starting to see more reds. However, the ginkgo is yellow. The walnut tree has a band of yellow at the bottom. Is green at top. We are picking up about a dozen walnuts each day.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Landed in Oregon XIII
September 24, 2007
I forgot the butterfly bush and lavender.
A.J., who visited Saturday, is learning that some trees have apples and some do not.
September 25, 2007
Saw Mother Doe and Spike under the apple tree. Spike is now as tall as his mother but much skinnier.
Tomatoes from the garden! Brandywines! Big! Delicious!
September 26, 2007
Every Fall, I buy a bale of hay and a bale of straw. The hay is for the goat or goats on cold winter nights. The straw is for berming the pump house and the outside water faucet. At the end of winter I will then use the straw for mulch. Sharon gave Annie some of the hay. She thought it was great, building a little burrow.
September 27, 2007
I’m in the Jail House Now. Went to Ashland this morning for a meeting. Was gone all day. Somehow, Cappy knew I was going. He watched me get ready, following me from room to room. Generally I can wait and he will become distracted. Not today. When I left he stood at the door and ... Cappy does not meow ... screamed. When I returned he saw me before I even entered the house. I stopped to lean down to pet him. He walked on by as if I wasn’t there. Several hours later, I was sitting in the living room when Cappy came in from outside. He saw me. It was like old times. He jumped up on the chair and kneaded my belly to be petted. I started to pet him and then ... he stopped, like he just remembered he was mad at me ... and jumped down and walked away. Give it time.
Sharon was down walking along the creek this afternoon. There is a place where there is a granite shelf, beneath a canopy of trees, and the creek tumbles by. Then she suddenly saw Manny and Manny saw her and he raced past, into the brush, up a tree. That’s how he says hello to people he knows. It is a little scary.
Brat is getting his summer-fall habit. Once he decides we are up he starts bellowing. Or, if you prefer, baaa-ing. He wants apples. We’ve got apples. He gets apples. Tomorrow it will be the same thing. If strangers are in the neighborhood, he is just as vocal but more frequent and maybe louder.
September 28, 2007
Cappy hasn’t quite forgiven me.
September 29, 2007
Daughter, The Younger, will be home for Thanksgiving! It rained yesterday and is supposed to rain tomorrow. I surveyed the estate today. Following summer, it looked somewhat unruly. I notified Landscaping. Today I mowed the grass. Looks kinda like a mowed hayfield in the Fall.
One bunch of turkeys came through this morning. I counted 24.
September 30, 2007
It rained today. The snowy white egrets are back! We know there are huge populations of them in northern California where they are used to control bugs, etc. We know there are a few on the Rogue River. Where do these come from? California? Or, with the Fall rains, do they leave the river and come into the fields? The fields have been irrigated all along. The egrets could have come a month or two ago. Why now?
On the way to town, turkey buzzards were working the carcass of a freshly killed skunk. The smell was powerful. We have heard that some owls are partial to young skunks. So that puts two on the list of critters not offended by skunk.
On the way to town we saw a jay in the empty osprey nest. Chest all puffed out. Like a six year old behind the wheel of mom’s car.
A.J., with her dad, has been visiting relatives in Seattle. Not yet three and she has more air travel than I had by the time I was twenty-one! We picked them up, let her dad off at his car, and brought A.J. here for her mom to pick up later. Tonight, there they were! All in Red Hat Club red hats, marching through the house, blowing on a flute, beating on the drum. The leader with the baton was A.J. She did a good job leading.
I forgot the butterfly bush and lavender.
A.J., who visited Saturday, is learning that some trees have apples and some do not.
September 25, 2007
Saw Mother Doe and Spike under the apple tree. Spike is now as tall as his mother but much skinnier.
Tomatoes from the garden! Brandywines! Big! Delicious!
September 26, 2007
Every Fall, I buy a bale of hay and a bale of straw. The hay is for the goat or goats on cold winter nights. The straw is for berming the pump house and the outside water faucet. At the end of winter I will then use the straw for mulch. Sharon gave Annie some of the hay. She thought it was great, building a little burrow.
September 27, 2007
I’m in the Jail House Now. Went to Ashland this morning for a meeting. Was gone all day. Somehow, Cappy knew I was going. He watched me get ready, following me from room to room. Generally I can wait and he will become distracted. Not today. When I left he stood at the door and ... Cappy does not meow ... screamed. When I returned he saw me before I even entered the house. I stopped to lean down to pet him. He walked on by as if I wasn’t there. Several hours later, I was sitting in the living room when Cappy came in from outside. He saw me. It was like old times. He jumped up on the chair and kneaded my belly to be petted. I started to pet him and then ... he stopped, like he just remembered he was mad at me ... and jumped down and walked away. Give it time.
Sharon was down walking along the creek this afternoon. There is a place where there is a granite shelf, beneath a canopy of trees, and the creek tumbles by. Then she suddenly saw Manny and Manny saw her and he raced past, into the brush, up a tree. That’s how he says hello to people he knows. It is a little scary.
Brat is getting his summer-fall habit. Once he decides we are up he starts bellowing. Or, if you prefer, baaa-ing. He wants apples. We’ve got apples. He gets apples. Tomorrow it will be the same thing. If strangers are in the neighborhood, he is just as vocal but more frequent and maybe louder.
September 28, 2007
Cappy hasn’t quite forgiven me.
September 29, 2007
Daughter, The Younger, will be home for Thanksgiving! It rained yesterday and is supposed to rain tomorrow. I surveyed the estate today. Following summer, it looked somewhat unruly. I notified Landscaping. Today I mowed the grass. Looks kinda like a mowed hayfield in the Fall.
One bunch of turkeys came through this morning. I counted 24.
September 30, 2007
It rained today. The snowy white egrets are back! We know there are huge populations of them in northern California where they are used to control bugs, etc. We know there are a few on the Rogue River. Where do these come from? California? Or, with the Fall rains, do they leave the river and come into the fields? The fields have been irrigated all along. The egrets could have come a month or two ago. Why now?
On the way to town, turkey buzzards were working the carcass of a freshly killed skunk. The smell was powerful. We have heard that some owls are partial to young skunks. So that puts two on the list of critters not offended by skunk.
On the way to town we saw a jay in the empty osprey nest. Chest all puffed out. Like a six year old behind the wheel of mom’s car.
A.J., with her dad, has been visiting relatives in Seattle. Not yet three and she has more air travel than I had by the time I was twenty-one! We picked them up, let her dad off at his car, and brought A.J. here for her mom to pick up later. Tonight, there they were! All in Red Hat Club red hats, marching through the house, blowing on a flute, beating on the drum. The leader with the baton was A.J. She did a good job leading.
Landed in Oregon XIV
October 2, 2007
Did I include hibiscus and autumn sedum in the inventory?
October 3, 2007
We have had some rain and the surface of the ground is dark with moisture. Cappy went out this morning and was diligently hunting for dust. There was none. Finally he discovered the garage floor.
October 4, 2007
Sharon went to a Dogs for Deaf meeting yesterday. She was really impressed with the local program. Cappy uses his brother to offset his own hearing loss. Cappy is an elder brother and is thereby entitled by birth order to be a leader. He believes that. Manners, who sometimes complies, thinks his disadvantaged brother is a boor. Ah-ha! Cappy needs a dog-for-the-deaf cat!
October 6, 2007
Saturday morning. Thirty-four degrees. Frost warnings on the Internet for the Rogue Valley. December and January share the lowest average temperatures: 31 degrees.
I looked for windfalls for Brat. None. One of our large apple trees has early drops. The other is inclined to have no drops at all. Last year, deer were standing on their hind legs to pick apples from its lowest branches. I picked half a dozen for Brat.
He prefers white bread. I offered him some apples. He wasn’t interested until it seemed that that was all. I held back some bread scraps for desert.
I saved a slice of whole wheat bread for Annie. First thing this morning I saw her seeing me in the kitchen window. I hold the bread for her. For critters like Brat and Annie who do not have hands it is helpful to have the food held. In nature, without hands, they bite and pull. Same with turkeys. I have seen them try to stand on a windfall apple, trying to hold it down while trying to take a bite out of it.
Next I pull the filter from our small vacuum and shake it out. Need to do it 1-2 times a week. And I notice, nearby, walnuts are starting to fall from the tree. I gather sixteen, filling my shirt pockets. Feel windfall rich.
October 7, 2007
One of the truly neat and wholesome things in Rogue Valley is Seven Oaks Farm. This time of year they open their doors, put a few of their animals on display and sell from Fall produce. One can buy all kinds of large (and small) pumpkins. There are canned goods. How about a bunch of corn stalks for $ 5.00. The kids can pet the goats. There is a slapped together maze. A hot dog stand where one can also buy roasted corn. There is a real old log cabin. Free pony rides where the kids can ride in a saddle and the pony is led by a man. One sees lots and lots of families and lots of small kids. The activities are free. The produce is not.
We went last year with Jennie Lynn and A.J.. This year A.J. rode the pony. She got a horse painted on her cheek. Bought some pumpkins.
Which reminds me. The best we could do in my garden this year was a watermelon about the size of a softball. Do I dare put it along side the pumpkins we raised? Could a person carve such a thing?
The Fall colors are really just starting. Reds and yellows. The poison oak has a delicate egg shell red color.
Did I include hibiscus and autumn sedum in the inventory?
October 3, 2007
We have had some rain and the surface of the ground is dark with moisture. Cappy went out this morning and was diligently hunting for dust. There was none. Finally he discovered the garage floor.
October 4, 2007
Sharon went to a Dogs for Deaf meeting yesterday. She was really impressed with the local program. Cappy uses his brother to offset his own hearing loss. Cappy is an elder brother and is thereby entitled by birth order to be a leader. He believes that. Manners, who sometimes complies, thinks his disadvantaged brother is a boor. Ah-ha! Cappy needs a dog-for-the-deaf cat!
October 6, 2007
Saturday morning. Thirty-four degrees. Frost warnings on the Internet for the Rogue Valley. December and January share the lowest average temperatures: 31 degrees.
I looked for windfalls for Brat. None. One of our large apple trees has early drops. The other is inclined to have no drops at all. Last year, deer were standing on their hind legs to pick apples from its lowest branches. I picked half a dozen for Brat.
He prefers white bread. I offered him some apples. He wasn’t interested until it seemed that that was all. I held back some bread scraps for desert.
I saved a slice of whole wheat bread for Annie. First thing this morning I saw her seeing me in the kitchen window. I hold the bread for her. For critters like Brat and Annie who do not have hands it is helpful to have the food held. In nature, without hands, they bite and pull. Same with turkeys. I have seen them try to stand on a windfall apple, trying to hold it down while trying to take a bite out of it.
Next I pull the filter from our small vacuum and shake it out. Need to do it 1-2 times a week. And I notice, nearby, walnuts are starting to fall from the tree. I gather sixteen, filling my shirt pockets. Feel windfall rich.
October 7, 2007
One of the truly neat and wholesome things in Rogue Valley is Seven Oaks Farm. This time of year they open their doors, put a few of their animals on display and sell from Fall produce. One can buy all kinds of large (and small) pumpkins. There are canned goods. How about a bunch of corn stalks for $ 5.00. The kids can pet the goats. There is a slapped together maze. A hot dog stand where one can also buy roasted corn. There is a real old log cabin. Free pony rides where the kids can ride in a saddle and the pony is led by a man. One sees lots and lots of families and lots of small kids. The activities are free. The produce is not.
We went last year with Jennie Lynn and A.J.. This year A.J. rode the pony. She got a horse painted on her cheek. Bought some pumpkins.
Which reminds me. The best we could do in my garden this year was a watermelon about the size of a softball. Do I dare put it along side the pumpkins we raised? Could a person carve such a thing?
The Fall colors are really just starting. Reds and yellows. The poison oak has a delicate egg shell red color.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Landed in Oregon XII
September 17, 2007
Each day Sharon and I try to gather a few windfall apples and give them to Brat. The other morning the apples were covered with dew. They were firm and cold to the touch. Occasionally I sampled a few. Taste great.
Saw the doe and fawn tonight. Mom was under the apple tree. The fawn was entranced by something. I had to leave the house to see. It was Cappy. And what deer wouldn’t be.... ? The fawn’s spots are gone now.
September 20, 2007
Two mornings at 37 degrees. Fall will soon be here.
Sharon wants to report that Annie has a boy friend -- or at least a frog friend. From time to time throughout the summer the frog has been in Annie’s water dish. Sharon removes it. Later -- a few days, a week -- the frog is back.
We have had a wasp hive in a gutter above the entry door. This morning it was gone and fragments were scattered over the porch. Based on past experience: jays. In the past though, the destruction was in the spring. Then, we said the jay was after protein. You don’t suppose the cold weather the last two mornings?
September 21, 2007
Little preoccupied this week with the death of a brother-in-law. Last summer was the first. He is the second. He is the last of my significant others.
September 23, 2007
Blooming Flower Inventory. We still have wild peas, Queen Anne’s Lace, blanket flowers (that close in the heat of the day), California poppies (that get up late and close if it gets too hot), evening prim roses (that open only at night), mullein (yellow flowers, many plants are above seven foot), tomato, egg plant, Kentucky Wonders, dipper gourds, chive, heather, dandelion (of course), chickory, strawberries, lemon balm, autumn sedum, hibiscus, purple asters, impatiens, coreopsis, sun flowers, Guara, gardenia, gaillardia, geranium, lots of pansies and chrysanthemum. I probably missed a few. I am still learning. Sharon says she just can't stand it: No flowers.
The turkeys are clustering and starting to get up on the decks and into the flower pots. We chase them off, repot and think of Thanksgiving.
Each day Sharon and I try to gather a few windfall apples and give them to Brat. The other morning the apples were covered with dew. They were firm and cold to the touch. Occasionally I sampled a few. Taste great.
Saw the doe and fawn tonight. Mom was under the apple tree. The fawn was entranced by something. I had to leave the house to see. It was Cappy. And what deer wouldn’t be.... ? The fawn’s spots are gone now.
September 20, 2007
Two mornings at 37 degrees. Fall will soon be here.
Sharon wants to report that Annie has a boy friend -- or at least a frog friend. From time to time throughout the summer the frog has been in Annie’s water dish. Sharon removes it. Later -- a few days, a week -- the frog is back.
We have had a wasp hive in a gutter above the entry door. This morning it was gone and fragments were scattered over the porch. Based on past experience: jays. In the past though, the destruction was in the spring. Then, we said the jay was after protein. You don’t suppose the cold weather the last two mornings?
September 21, 2007
Little preoccupied this week with the death of a brother-in-law. Last summer was the first. He is the second. He is the last of my significant others.
September 23, 2007
Blooming Flower Inventory. We still have wild peas, Queen Anne’s Lace, blanket flowers (that close in the heat of the day), California poppies (that get up late and close if it gets too hot), evening prim roses (that open only at night), mullein (yellow flowers, many plants are above seven foot), tomato, egg plant, Kentucky Wonders, dipper gourds, chive, heather, dandelion (of course), chickory, strawberries, lemon balm, autumn sedum, hibiscus, purple asters, impatiens, coreopsis, sun flowers, Guara, gardenia, gaillardia, geranium, lots of pansies and chrysanthemum. I probably missed a few. I am still learning. Sharon says she just can't stand it: No flowers.
The turkeys are clustering and starting to get up on the decks and into the flower pots. We chase them off, repot and think of Thanksgiving.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Landed in Oregon XI
September 10, 2007
Annie, our lop eared dwarf rabbit, does not have good close-up vision. If you throw a crumb of bread near her, she uses smell and then the touch of her whiskers to find it. She reacts to sound and rapid movement, by going on alert and maybe running. But in the morning she will come to the edge of her cage and having heard us stir will watch at our kitchen window to see us, a distance of forty feet. She will closely watch Manners and Capper, our Manx’s, at an even greater distance. She is alert and may even run to one of her burrows. Yet, when they are near -- right outside her cage or say, within five feet -- she is not alert and may come to the edge of her cage as if she wants to touch noses with them. Maybe she recognizes them. On the other hand, the cats perceive her approach as bold and they put themselves in a ready to flee stance.
Her senses kind of overlap in purpose and help to refine her perception. I guess ours do too. There was a time when I think we had better instruction on smell: This means coyote and this means buffalo and this means wolf and this means fear and this means in heat and this means contentment. Smell is kind of subjective and scientists in their disregard of subjectivity have undermined the old lessons. Humans have become more reliant on their vision. Vision is where you say, By their fruits you shall know them. There was a time when one could smell treachery. Rote instruction is: You shall know them by hearing them. Rote, or hearing, might be better than smelling them but is not as objective as seeing. But seeing, as more strongly with the others, can also be a matter of seeing not what is there but what one wants to see.
Each sense is kind of its own world, reality. A book yet to be written is, War of the Senses. The perception a human has -- as other critters -- is a irregular composite, a synergy, of their senses. Thank you, Annie, for reminding me. Cappy, too.
9/11/07
Planted two coast redwoods and a cedar below the washout. Soon Cappy and Manny showed up. Surely you have noticed that running water sometimes gives persons the urge to pee. Cats don’t have that problem. Instead: digging in sand gives cats the uncontrollable urge to dig in sand and pee or poop as it strikes them. Cats also cover up their holes. I dug a hole and filled the bottom with moss, twigs, leaves and other such debris. I placed the tree in the hole and holding it with one hand I started scraping sand into the hole. Cappy watched, understood, and came over and started covering up the hole.
I noticed yesterday that Annie is getting fat or getting fur or both.
9/12/07
The geese are jogging this week. Sometimes they are up before the sun. You can hear them. These are exercises for the kids, endurance and flight formation, and limbering up the old folks.
9/15/07
Something going on with Brat. Very vocal.
We are slipping into Indian Summer. Cooler. Sunny. Shorter days.
Bees and the hummingbird feeder. In the July heat, the bees discover the feeder. As it cools some leave and a few stay on, having discovered a good thing. The ones that stay on are fewer but more ornery. They fight other bees (of their own kind) and they even keep off hummingbirds. Well, in the Spring, tom turkeys sometimes discover a clean chrome bumper, see their reflection and fluff, display, and peck the bumper. Sometimes on our deck, the same thing occurs when they see their reflection in the sliding glass doors. Well, these bees see their reflection in the windows near the feeder and they fly forcefully into the window and again and then again. Kind of like an insect replica of a couple of billy goats -- ‘cept one goat is a reflection. They really bang into the window. I have never seen one bang hard enough to drop to the ground, but hard enough to wobble a little. A dizzy bee?
9/17/07
Manners and Cappy are shut in to the Sun Room overnight. On a table, I put a hard cat food feeder and two saucers of soft. They are secure there. They are also not running through the house knocking things over. So, last night I forgot the hard cat food. It is a feeder, when full maybe good for a week. They always nibble a bit of hard food. This morning the saucers were licked clean. And on the table was the bottom half of a half eaten mouse. You don’t suppose they were trying to tell me something?
Annie, our lop eared dwarf rabbit, does not have good close-up vision. If you throw a crumb of bread near her, she uses smell and then the touch of her whiskers to find it. She reacts to sound and rapid movement, by going on alert and maybe running. But in the morning she will come to the edge of her cage and having heard us stir will watch at our kitchen window to see us, a distance of forty feet. She will closely watch Manners and Capper, our Manx’s, at an even greater distance. She is alert and may even run to one of her burrows. Yet, when they are near -- right outside her cage or say, within five feet -- she is not alert and may come to the edge of her cage as if she wants to touch noses with them. Maybe she recognizes them. On the other hand, the cats perceive her approach as bold and they put themselves in a ready to flee stance.
Her senses kind of overlap in purpose and help to refine her perception. I guess ours do too. There was a time when I think we had better instruction on smell: This means coyote and this means buffalo and this means wolf and this means fear and this means in heat and this means contentment. Smell is kind of subjective and scientists in their disregard of subjectivity have undermined the old lessons. Humans have become more reliant on their vision. Vision is where you say, By their fruits you shall know them. There was a time when one could smell treachery. Rote instruction is: You shall know them by hearing them. Rote, or hearing, might be better than smelling them but is not as objective as seeing. But seeing, as more strongly with the others, can also be a matter of seeing not what is there but what one wants to see.
Each sense is kind of its own world, reality. A book yet to be written is, War of the Senses. The perception a human has -- as other critters -- is a irregular composite, a synergy, of their senses. Thank you, Annie, for reminding me. Cappy, too.
9/11/07
Planted two coast redwoods and a cedar below the washout. Soon Cappy and Manny showed up. Surely you have noticed that running water sometimes gives persons the urge to pee. Cats don’t have that problem. Instead: digging in sand gives cats the uncontrollable urge to dig in sand and pee or poop as it strikes them. Cats also cover up their holes. I dug a hole and filled the bottom with moss, twigs, leaves and other such debris. I placed the tree in the hole and holding it with one hand I started scraping sand into the hole. Cappy watched, understood, and came over and started covering up the hole.
I noticed yesterday that Annie is getting fat or getting fur or both.
9/12/07
The geese are jogging this week. Sometimes they are up before the sun. You can hear them. These are exercises for the kids, endurance and flight formation, and limbering up the old folks.
9/15/07
Something going on with Brat. Very vocal.
We are slipping into Indian Summer. Cooler. Sunny. Shorter days.
Bees and the hummingbird feeder. In the July heat, the bees discover the feeder. As it cools some leave and a few stay on, having discovered a good thing. The ones that stay on are fewer but more ornery. They fight other bees (of their own kind) and they even keep off hummingbirds. Well, in the Spring, tom turkeys sometimes discover a clean chrome bumper, see their reflection and fluff, display, and peck the bumper. Sometimes on our deck, the same thing occurs when they see their reflection in the sliding glass doors. Well, these bees see their reflection in the windows near the feeder and they fly forcefully into the window and again and then again. Kind of like an insect replica of a couple of billy goats -- ‘cept one goat is a reflection. They really bang into the window. I have never seen one bang hard enough to drop to the ground, but hard enough to wobble a little. A dizzy bee?
9/17/07
Manners and Cappy are shut in to the Sun Room overnight. On a table, I put a hard cat food feeder and two saucers of soft. They are secure there. They are also not running through the house knocking things over. So, last night I forgot the hard cat food. It is a feeder, when full maybe good for a week. They always nibble a bit of hard food. This morning the saucers were licked clean. And on the table was the bottom half of a half eaten mouse. You don’t suppose they were trying to tell me something?
Monday, September 10, 2007
Landed in Oregon X
September 7, 2007
It rained steadily a couple of hours. The earth sighed.
9/8/07
Cleaned the poop out of Annie’s pen. We have a 30 inch tray, about a foot wide. She pees in one part of the tray and poops at the other end. Annie takes her poop very seriously. She stepped, err hopped aside to let me shovel and when I carried a load of her pot out of the pen she immediately went and inspected. Like so many animals -- us too -- the prominent question is: What’s going on? What’s happening?
Today prepared raised bed for planting. Went to the Greensprings Nursery and bought flowers and trees and lettuce and onions.
9/9/07
Grandparents’ day. Off to spend time with A.J., almost 3 years old. Her mother (A.J. helped) had done chalk drawings on the sidewalk in front of their home. Went to the D.Q. Of course, A.J. is very smart. She does a passable job with scissors now. She is about where I was at age six. Hey! She said she loved Poppy.
Cappy or Capper or Casper, our white, deaf, long hair (now with short hair) Manx has become quite a hunter. He hunts birds and lizards and grasshoppers and dragonflies. Yesterday when I water the trees in the upper and lower pastures, he joined me. He made sure it was me. He watched. He followed me around at I watered. He got bored. For awhile he disappeared off into the bushes. He showed up again as I was about to drive the mowing tractor back to the house. I picked him up and offered to let him ride in my lap. He preferred the hood of the tractor. He stayed on the hood all the way back to the tractor shed -- may be 100 yards.
Pet Peeve. I read an article about how this some animal had human-like traits. It seems like it is always that way. Scientists are loath to guess what goes on within these creatures and things. Though approving Darwin, they are also loath to say this is where we came from and we brought most of our traits from these other critters and things. They say, Very few fish, reptiles, amphibians, birds, mammals and rocks and trees have human-like traits. But it didn’t work that way. The other way. They were here first. We, humans, have a lot of traits like fish, reptiles, birds, amphibians, mammals, trees and rocks. That is no surprise at all. That is where we got them.
Today, planted lettuce and onions for winter.
It rained steadily a couple of hours. The earth sighed.
9/8/07
Cleaned the poop out of Annie’s pen. We have a 30 inch tray, about a foot wide. She pees in one part of the tray and poops at the other end. Annie takes her poop very seriously. She stepped, err hopped aside to let me shovel and when I carried a load of her pot out of the pen she immediately went and inspected. Like so many animals -- us too -- the prominent question is: What’s going on? What’s happening?
Today prepared raised bed for planting. Went to the Greensprings Nursery and bought flowers and trees and lettuce and onions.
9/9/07
Grandparents’ day. Off to spend time with A.J., almost 3 years old. Her mother (A.J. helped) had done chalk drawings on the sidewalk in front of their home. Went to the D.Q. Of course, A.J. is very smart. She does a passable job with scissors now. She is about where I was at age six. Hey! She said she loved Poppy.
Cappy or Capper or Casper, our white, deaf, long hair (now with short hair) Manx has become quite a hunter. He hunts birds and lizards and grasshoppers and dragonflies. Yesterday when I water the trees in the upper and lower pastures, he joined me. He made sure it was me. He watched. He followed me around at I watered. He got bored. For awhile he disappeared off into the bushes. He showed up again as I was about to drive the mowing tractor back to the house. I picked him up and offered to let him ride in my lap. He preferred the hood of the tractor. He stayed on the hood all the way back to the tractor shed -- may be 100 yards.
Pet Peeve. I read an article about how this some animal had human-like traits. It seems like it is always that way. Scientists are loath to guess what goes on within these creatures and things. Though approving Darwin, they are also loath to say this is where we came from and we brought most of our traits from these other critters and things. They say, Very few fish, reptiles, amphibians, birds, mammals and rocks and trees have human-like traits. But it didn’t work that way. The other way. They were here first. We, humans, have a lot of traits like fish, reptiles, birds, amphibians, mammals, trees and rocks. That is no surprise at all. That is where we got them.
Today, planted lettuce and onions for winter.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Landed in Oregon IX
August 27, 2007
Haven’t noticed the deer so much since our return from Montana. Apples are laying about on the ground. Tonight, though, the mother doe and fawn were here, and an early adult spike and doe were here.
August 28, 2007
The squirrels were getting into the feeder. So, Sharon put a cover above it. Then Fiona started raiding the feeder. So, we relocated it to the deck. Where Cappy found it easier to catch the finch and other birds. So, ...?
I need to note Fiona. She had to learn raiding the feeders from watching birds. However I have not seen evidence of other deer learning to raid feeders from Fiona. So at this time we just have a genius doe.
August 30, 2007
The long, hot summer. Cappy, white, deaf, hunts grasshoppers in the driveway. And he rolls in the dust. Does it just come naturally or did he learn from watching the turkeys. Who, by the way, are starting to group up with both sexes. Cappy comes into the house now, mostly grey, a cloud of dust.
When it became hot in July, the bees started hitting the hummingbird feeders. Now it is not so hot. But it is drier. Today I watched one bee fend off repeated hummer efforts to reach the feeder.
September 3, 2007
Summer is the Velcro Season. It starts maybe in July when the blooms shrivel and the seeds form and last until after the Fall rains. The seeds stick to socks and shoelaces, but not to leather. They stick to denim and hair on arms, legs, head. They sneak into washers and dryers and come out on socks and shorts and bras, surprises (and curses) first thing in the morning. I keep thinking I will plan a Velcro campaign in early summer. Maybe next year.
Today I watered the five trees (planted year before last) on the other side of the creek, adjacent to the kennel. They are doing fine. The vines are running wild. My son Luke said hello (another story). I will devote a little time to whacking vines.
Haven’t noticed the deer so much since our return from Montana. Apples are laying about on the ground. Tonight, though, the mother doe and fawn were here, and an early adult spike and doe were here.
August 28, 2007
The squirrels were getting into the feeder. So, Sharon put a cover above it. Then Fiona started raiding the feeder. So, we relocated it to the deck. Where Cappy found it easier to catch the finch and other birds. So, ...?
I need to note Fiona. She had to learn raiding the feeders from watching birds. However I have not seen evidence of other deer learning to raid feeders from Fiona. So at this time we just have a genius doe.
August 30, 2007
The long, hot summer. Cappy, white, deaf, hunts grasshoppers in the driveway. And he rolls in the dust. Does it just come naturally or did he learn from watching the turkeys. Who, by the way, are starting to group up with both sexes. Cappy comes into the house now, mostly grey, a cloud of dust.
When it became hot in July, the bees started hitting the hummingbird feeders. Now it is not so hot. But it is drier. Today I watched one bee fend off repeated hummer efforts to reach the feeder.
September 3, 2007
Summer is the Velcro Season. It starts maybe in July when the blooms shrivel and the seeds form and last until after the Fall rains. The seeds stick to socks and shoelaces, but not to leather. They stick to denim and hair on arms, legs, head. They sneak into washers and dryers and come out on socks and shorts and bras, surprises (and curses) first thing in the morning. I keep thinking I will plan a Velcro campaign in early summer. Maybe next year.
Today I watered the five trees (planted year before last) on the other side of the creek, adjacent to the kennel. They are doing fine. The vines are running wild. My son Luke said hello (another story). I will devote a little time to whacking vines.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Landed in Oregon VIII
August 23, 2007
I was watering the yard yesterday, and there was a great ruckus in the trees along the creek. Suddenly, a loud hawk (mid sized) appeared. It was looking down at me. There was a similar squawking from where it came. Had a hawk invaded another’s turf? Then the other hawk flew in. They squawked at each other loudly. After awhile they squawked together. In harmony. Was this like a Hollywood musical? Was I hearing a mating ritual? Or a shouting match? The first hawk took off, landing in the top of a fir a couple of hundred feet away. Looking at me. The other hawk was quiet. The first hawk eventually flew off.
Woodpecker working on the mullein. We saw mullein all along the route to Montana. We need a camera to catch the woodpecker.
Watered along the hillside above the creek. The trees are doing okay -- better than I expected. This may be the last watering of the year. The dawn redwood is so strange. Earlier, I think it got dry and decided that the season was over. It dried up and started shedding needles. When I watered I thought it was dying. When I watered, it thought a new season had begun. Little green shoots appeared all over it. Looks scruffy: the dead needles and the new growth.
August 24, 2007
Second bacon and tomato sandwiches of the season. Tomatoes from the garden. Like tacos, BLTs are the food of the gods.
Watered the lower pasture. Murphy Sequoia looked okay. All the trees are going to make it.
In the goaty boys, Brat’s pasture, there also is mullein and the woodpecker is working them.
August 25, 2007
It is late August, hot and dry, and the hen turkeys are assembling. I think this happens first, by sex, and it is here that they first learn the pecking order. The young hens, high school now, are still a little scrawny. They have started afternoon dusting (I kind of like “wallowing”) themselves in the pumpkin patch. Soon, there will be pumpkins and no leaves or vines or blossoms.
(I wonder if Wallowa Lake is from “wallow?”)
Sun flowers first blooming in the garden. Have one watermelon about the size of a soft ball. .. I’m starting to get anxious. Lots of tomatoes.
Had cucumbers nearly a month ago. In the hot months, real people have sliced cukes with sliced onions, in real cream and vinegar and salt and pepper, chilled. That is what “cool as a cucumber” is all about.
August 26, 2007.
We had A.J. overnight. She enjoyed her raised garden more this time. She ate many tomatoes. They squirt when you chomp down on them and she has promised to never again squirt grandma. Today -- proudly showing me -- she took a box home, saying she would share with her mother. She is two-going-on-ten -- so amazing.
The driveway. It is a kind of embarrassing that I haven’t mentioned it. I guess, when people arrive home, they enter their driveway, come to a stop, and say, “I’m home.” How many people have a driveway 100 yards long? Or, how about: I’m going to go to work now and it is 100 yards before one reaches the highway/road? Everyone ought to have one. Twenty feet wide (legally). A single dirt, gravel lane. About half down hill and half uphill. With a culvert in the middle. Most of it is lined by tall pine or fir. There are places where the canopy is complete. There will come a time when one of these trees is going to fall and close the road. Then we will have to cut ourselves out. “I’m sorry I can’t come to work this morning. A tree fell across my driveway and I need to cut it out.” About one-quarter of its length is fenced (by Gary). Cottonwood and ferns down by the creek (intermittent). There is an effect of driving through a band of trees to reach an opening into the larger property. In the ten years here we went through two bridges. For whatever reason, the price for bridges soared, and we are now trying a culvert. We share the driveway with one other family (soon to be two).
Summer has changed. It is still hot. The range of temperature is wider -- swings of fifty degrees. The heat can be as intense but not as long. It seems the day is slower to heat up and quicker to cool down. Nice.
I was watering the yard yesterday, and there was a great ruckus in the trees along the creek. Suddenly, a loud hawk (mid sized) appeared. It was looking down at me. There was a similar squawking from where it came. Had a hawk invaded another’s turf? Then the other hawk flew in. They squawked at each other loudly. After awhile they squawked together. In harmony. Was this like a Hollywood musical? Was I hearing a mating ritual? Or a shouting match? The first hawk took off, landing in the top of a fir a couple of hundred feet away. Looking at me. The other hawk was quiet. The first hawk eventually flew off.
Woodpecker working on the mullein. We saw mullein all along the route to Montana. We need a camera to catch the woodpecker.
Watered along the hillside above the creek. The trees are doing okay -- better than I expected. This may be the last watering of the year. The dawn redwood is so strange. Earlier, I think it got dry and decided that the season was over. It dried up and started shedding needles. When I watered I thought it was dying. When I watered, it thought a new season had begun. Little green shoots appeared all over it. Looks scruffy: the dead needles and the new growth.
August 24, 2007
Second bacon and tomato sandwiches of the season. Tomatoes from the garden. Like tacos, BLTs are the food of the gods.
Watered the lower pasture. Murphy Sequoia looked okay. All the trees are going to make it.
In the goaty boys, Brat’s pasture, there also is mullein and the woodpecker is working them.
August 25, 2007
It is late August, hot and dry, and the hen turkeys are assembling. I think this happens first, by sex, and it is here that they first learn the pecking order. The young hens, high school now, are still a little scrawny. They have started afternoon dusting (I kind of like “wallowing”) themselves in the pumpkin patch. Soon, there will be pumpkins and no leaves or vines or blossoms.
(I wonder if Wallowa Lake is from “wallow?”)
Sun flowers first blooming in the garden. Have one watermelon about the size of a soft ball. .. I’m starting to get anxious. Lots of tomatoes.
Had cucumbers nearly a month ago. In the hot months, real people have sliced cukes with sliced onions, in real cream and vinegar and salt and pepper, chilled. That is what “cool as a cucumber” is all about.
August 26, 2007.
We had A.J. overnight. She enjoyed her raised garden more this time. She ate many tomatoes. They squirt when you chomp down on them and she has promised to never again squirt grandma. Today -- proudly showing me -- she took a box home, saying she would share with her mother. She is two-going-on-ten -- so amazing.
The driveway. It is a kind of embarrassing that I haven’t mentioned it. I guess, when people arrive home, they enter their driveway, come to a stop, and say, “I’m home.” How many people have a driveway 100 yards long? Or, how about: I’m going to go to work now and it is 100 yards before one reaches the highway/road? Everyone ought to have one. Twenty feet wide (legally). A single dirt, gravel lane. About half down hill and half uphill. With a culvert in the middle. Most of it is lined by tall pine or fir. There are places where the canopy is complete. There will come a time when one of these trees is going to fall and close the road. Then we will have to cut ourselves out. “I’m sorry I can’t come to work this morning. A tree fell across my driveway and I need to cut it out.” About one-quarter of its length is fenced (by Gary). Cottonwood and ferns down by the creek (intermittent). There is an effect of driving through a band of trees to reach an opening into the larger property. In the ten years here we went through two bridges. For whatever reason, the price for bridges soared, and we are now trying a culvert. We share the driveway with one other family (soon to be two).
Summer has changed. It is still hot. The range of temperature is wider -- swings of fifty degrees. The heat can be as intense but not as long. It seems the day is slower to heat up and quicker to cool down. Nice.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Landed in Oregon VI
August 6, 2007
Cleaning ladies. Right here. Right now. Cleaning the house. Top to bottom. First time. Why? It’s a great idea, but why now? Ah! Daughter is bringing a boy friend to visit! Now, she has done this before. Why now? Something special! No one has said there is something special. Something special ... anyhow... anyway. Excitement! The tempo of August dog days has picked up.
More tomatoes. Still don’t look like Brandywines.
Near the walnut tree we have a stump that is slowly decaying. Last year and this year, from time to time a critter comes and scratches at it. It is starting to pull away on one side. It has attracted yellow jackets. They are either living in or dining in. I haven’t figured it out yet.
Weaning. Last week I looked out the kitchen window and watched finch on the sunflower bird feeder. There were two eating away. And there, three or four inches away, was a third, slightly smaller, facing one of the others, with its beak open and wings quivering. The baby. So, every so often the adult would go over and regurgitate (I guess) into the baby’s beak. I did not wait around while this enabling behavior was going on. I don’t know when the young finch got the idea. It could watch its folks feed out of the trough. The trough was right there. It could feed out of the trough at any time.
Next example. June. Swallows. Early on they swoop and dive and gurgle sweet nothings at each other. But in June there is this (relatively speaking) a squawking that starts to occur. You look up and there are three swallows. The squeaking squawker is the one chasing the other two. It is slightly smaller. They are swooping and diving, in a mature swallow way, the squeaker is frantically flapping behind them. They could easily ditch junior or miss, but don’t. They gather their dinner and frantic flapper observes. Maybe. Finally. I never waited around for that a-ha moment.
Finally, week before last, the young osprey were getting their final flight training. Then last weeks the folks vamoosed. The youngster sat in the nest or on the crossbar of the power pole -- alone. And finally the youngster was gone. The nest is about a mile from the river. I don’t know what happened to the stalwart and lonely bird. I don’t know if its folks were watching from afar. Ready to rescue. I hope for the best.
In the summer when I was going on thirteen, one afternoon someone came up the house and told my mom that my dad wanted me down at the shop. Very unusual. The shop is where he repaired shoes and harness and made saddles. I hustled my buns right down there. He told me to go get my sleeping bag and pack my stuff because I was going out to a ranch to work for the summer. He introduced me to a paunchy man in Levis and a clean flannel shirt, saying he would pick me up at the house in one hour. My mom helped in the packing. I worked three summers for them and another four summers for ranchers in the area. It took me awhile to get the hang of it. There were places where there was no electricity and no hot water and no showers. During this whole time, with the exception of one six week period, the food was always good -- and sometimes great! When I was working out in the summers and going to college in the winter my folks always kept a bed for me. Pretty nice.
Today Sharon and I checked the plum tree. Plums are about the size of apricots. Not ripe. Sharon had to try. Pucker. Pucker. She ate it all. Clearly the tree could use some water so we set up a sprinkler. On the way to the tree Sharon spotted a nest of bees. It was about seven feet high in a madrone above the path to the plum tree. Like those bee hives one sees in children’s books. Paper wasps. Black, Sharon said. The black bee is the paper wasp.
August 8, 2007
The boys, Cappy and Manny, sleep in the sun room. We don’t want them in the house because they wake up and play and create loud ruckuses. We fear turning them loose in the wild at night. Great horned owls like skunks and probably like cats as well. So, we lock them up.
This morning when I went out to let them out, they were sleeping together. Just like when they were kittens. Guess Manny no longer finds Cappy (post surgery) an alien cat.
August 9, 2007
This morning I had a epitamy. An epitamy is a small epiphany. I was holding a slice of bread for Annie to chew on. Brat likes one to hold his bread also. I guess in the wild, the bush, leaves or grass they eat is made easier when the plant resists. That way they can bite off, a bite and pulling action, what they want. Also, it holds food at a convenient level for the animal.
So, I was acting like a bread bush and thinking that Annie really ought to be called Digger. She has mounds of dirt all over her pen. She has holes she has dug all over her pen. On hot days, she rolls in the dust. She is covered with dirt and dust. Ah-ha! Here it comes: Annie is a “dust bunny.” I had never made the connection before.
August 11, 2007
We have had some cooler weather. Mornings have been running in the mid-forties. Afternoons can hit mid nineties or low one hundreds. By bedtime, back to fifties-sixties. A fifty-sixty degree swing. Might change clothes 2-3 times a day. I have lived in other locales with this kind of swing. I never noticed so much. (Maybe, now, it is a sign of age.)
August 12, 2007
On the Rogue River today with loved ones. Osprey, heron, bald eagles, beaver lodge, young Canada geese learning to fly and sunburn.
Going on vacation. Now where would a person who lives in a forested area go on vacation? Of course! To another forested area.
Cleaning ladies. Right here. Right now. Cleaning the house. Top to bottom. First time. Why? It’s a great idea, but why now? Ah! Daughter is bringing a boy friend to visit! Now, she has done this before. Why now? Something special! No one has said there is something special. Something special ... anyhow... anyway. Excitement! The tempo of August dog days has picked up.
More tomatoes. Still don’t look like Brandywines.
Near the walnut tree we have a stump that is slowly decaying. Last year and this year, from time to time a critter comes and scratches at it. It is starting to pull away on one side. It has attracted yellow jackets. They are either living in or dining in. I haven’t figured it out yet.
Weaning. Last week I looked out the kitchen window and watched finch on the sunflower bird feeder. There were two eating away. And there, three or four inches away, was a third, slightly smaller, facing one of the others, with its beak open and wings quivering. The baby. So, every so often the adult would go over and regurgitate (I guess) into the baby’s beak. I did not wait around while this enabling behavior was going on. I don’t know when the young finch got the idea. It could watch its folks feed out of the trough. The trough was right there. It could feed out of the trough at any time.
Next example. June. Swallows. Early on they swoop and dive and gurgle sweet nothings at each other. But in June there is this (relatively speaking) a squawking that starts to occur. You look up and there are three swallows. The squeaking squawker is the one chasing the other two. It is slightly smaller. They are swooping and diving, in a mature swallow way, the squeaker is frantically flapping behind them. They could easily ditch junior or miss, but don’t. They gather their dinner and frantic flapper observes. Maybe. Finally. I never waited around for that a-ha moment.
Finally, week before last, the young osprey were getting their final flight training. Then last weeks the folks vamoosed. The youngster sat in the nest or on the crossbar of the power pole -- alone. And finally the youngster was gone. The nest is about a mile from the river. I don’t know what happened to the stalwart and lonely bird. I don’t know if its folks were watching from afar. Ready to rescue. I hope for the best.
In the summer when I was going on thirteen, one afternoon someone came up the house and told my mom that my dad wanted me down at the shop. Very unusual. The shop is where he repaired shoes and harness and made saddles. I hustled my buns right down there. He told me to go get my sleeping bag and pack my stuff because I was going out to a ranch to work for the summer. He introduced me to a paunchy man in Levis and a clean flannel shirt, saying he would pick me up at the house in one hour. My mom helped in the packing. I worked three summers for them and another four summers for ranchers in the area. It took me awhile to get the hang of it. There were places where there was no electricity and no hot water and no showers. During this whole time, with the exception of one six week period, the food was always good -- and sometimes great! When I was working out in the summers and going to college in the winter my folks always kept a bed for me. Pretty nice.
Today Sharon and I checked the plum tree. Plums are about the size of apricots. Not ripe. Sharon had to try. Pucker. Pucker. She ate it all. Clearly the tree could use some water so we set up a sprinkler. On the way to the tree Sharon spotted a nest of bees. It was about seven feet high in a madrone above the path to the plum tree. Like those bee hives one sees in children’s books. Paper wasps. Black, Sharon said. The black bee is the paper wasp.
August 8, 2007
The boys, Cappy and Manny, sleep in the sun room. We don’t want them in the house because they wake up and play and create loud ruckuses. We fear turning them loose in the wild at night. Great horned owls like skunks and probably like cats as well. So, we lock them up.
This morning when I went out to let them out, they were sleeping together. Just like when they were kittens. Guess Manny no longer finds Cappy (post surgery) an alien cat.
August 9, 2007
This morning I had a epitamy. An epitamy is a small epiphany. I was holding a slice of bread for Annie to chew on. Brat likes one to hold his bread also. I guess in the wild, the bush, leaves or grass they eat is made easier when the plant resists. That way they can bite off, a bite and pulling action, what they want. Also, it holds food at a convenient level for the animal.
So, I was acting like a bread bush and thinking that Annie really ought to be called Digger. She has mounds of dirt all over her pen. She has holes she has dug all over her pen. On hot days, she rolls in the dust. She is covered with dirt and dust. Ah-ha! Here it comes: Annie is a “dust bunny.” I had never made the connection before.
August 11, 2007
We have had some cooler weather. Mornings have been running in the mid-forties. Afternoons can hit mid nineties or low one hundreds. By bedtime, back to fifties-sixties. A fifty-sixty degree swing. Might change clothes 2-3 times a day. I have lived in other locales with this kind of swing. I never noticed so much. (Maybe, now, it is a sign of age.)
August 12, 2007
On the Rogue River today with loved ones. Osprey, heron, bald eagles, beaver lodge, young Canada geese learning to fly and sunburn.
Going on vacation. Now where would a person who lives in a forested area go on vacation? Of course! To another forested area.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Landed in Oregon VII
August 21, 2007
Recovering from a vacation! How can that be? We went to Montana, a state with maybe the most spectacular scenery in the lower 48 ... and saw very little. We went to visit Ray and Gay, special friends who concoct great meals ... and ate very little. (Sharon says, Speak for yourself). To a lake filled with Kokanee ... and caught very few. With all kinds of places to go and people to see ... and went very little. It was great. Already planning to go back. Have to.
Started off with a bad sun burn before even departing. Took a short cut and saved a few hours getting there. Had a great welcoming meal and my digestive system shut down. Stopped, as it were: blocked. Bloating and pain and stopped eating. Wasn’t hungry. For a day or so. Toast. Spent too much time in bed. Then hungry at 3 a.m. Visions of bacon and eggs. Tried to sleep but could not. Three-thirty I decided to fix a small breakfast. Very exciting! On the way to the kitchen I dropped off to pee. Dark, I sat on the pot and peed. And my back went out. I could not stand. I could crawl. I crawled to the kitchen and pulled myself up. Pain. Go back to bed? Eat? I couldn’t bend over far enough to see or find any bacon in the refrigerator. To bed? Eat. I saw the egg carton. I knew where the butter and bread were. Pain. I cooked. I ate. I felt much better. Then I went back to bed.
We were on Little Bitterroot Lake and Ray took me out -- like from 10 to noon. We caught ten or so. I could have tried a catching record. I am sure we would have done as well any day. With a little effort I am sure we could have caught 100 or more. But I have done those things. At some point in time a lot of fish becomes just a lot of fish. The lake was great. The fish were great. Instead, Fate had me more deeply explore the definition of intestinal blockage. One day we all toured the lake by boat. Great guide: Ray has known the lake since the 1970’s. We did have an inversion and for a couple of days the lake was smoky.
It’s all about smoke. The summer we picked to see Montana’s spectacular scenery was the summer fate chose to liberally spread lots of large forest fires across the state. Records. We were bracketed by two. Not at Little Bitterroot, but close enough. The fires were active. For most, the plan was to let winter snow fall put them out. I disagree. It is my understanding that the reason God put men on earth was to kill snakes and put out forest fires.
So we wrapped up the vacation by having my slipped disk set a couple of times by a chiropractor in Kalispell. Go see Whitefish.
The next day we drove through 275 miles of smoke before seeing blue sky. There was one spot where the fire was burning to the road and several others where it had previously burned to the road. Then Sharon drove 100 miles over a couple of passes called “the Rattlesnake” -- Sharon’s story because I really cannot do it justice. Very deep canyons. Very narrow, winding roads. After an hour or so of this and a hen pheasant appeared on the road. In our lane. Sharon swerved. I closed my eyes. When there was no thump on the car, I opened them, saying: Guess you missed it. She said, I don’t know; I had my eyes closed. I said, I didn’t want to hear that! On to Enterprise, Oregon where we again started to see smoke. Another big fire, this time on the Im Na Ha.
We went down the Clearwater. Sharon saw an otter. We saw heron and osprey. It has a reputation for great steelhead fishing.
The next day it rained. This is a positive omen. My grand nephew took me on a tour of a cabin he was building on Wallowa Lake, a 4200 square foot jobby for a young lady. The living room ceilings were 24 feet high. The two children, ages two and three, are on one floor (first side door to the right off the front door) and mom and dad are on another floor (rear of the cabin overlooking the lake). (edit) (edit) They say that that spot on the lake has good fishing.
The next day it rained nearly all the way home. Another positive omen.
August 22, 2007
Manny came in and finally Cappy arrived yowling and growling. Pretty dry. Some flowers burned up, but not too bad overall. Lots of tomatoes. Lots of beans. Life is good. Looking forward to an August visit from Ray and Gay.
It is like this: bad calls in sporting events tend, they say, to even out over the length of the game. I figure, after this vacation, that I can anticipate at least six months of rich, trouble free life. Here’s a thought: I might try the lottery!
Recovering from a vacation! How can that be? We went to Montana, a state with maybe the most spectacular scenery in the lower 48 ... and saw very little. We went to visit Ray and Gay, special friends who concoct great meals ... and ate very little. (Sharon says, Speak for yourself). To a lake filled with Kokanee ... and caught very few. With all kinds of places to go and people to see ... and went very little. It was great. Already planning to go back. Have to.
Started off with a bad sun burn before even departing. Took a short cut and saved a few hours getting there. Had a great welcoming meal and my digestive system shut down. Stopped, as it were: blocked. Bloating and pain and stopped eating. Wasn’t hungry. For a day or so. Toast. Spent too much time in bed. Then hungry at 3 a.m. Visions of bacon and eggs. Tried to sleep but could not. Three-thirty I decided to fix a small breakfast. Very exciting! On the way to the kitchen I dropped off to pee. Dark, I sat on the pot and peed. And my back went out. I could not stand. I could crawl. I crawled to the kitchen and pulled myself up. Pain. Go back to bed? Eat? I couldn’t bend over far enough to see or find any bacon in the refrigerator. To bed? Eat. I saw the egg carton. I knew where the butter and bread were. Pain. I cooked. I ate. I felt much better. Then I went back to bed.
We were on Little Bitterroot Lake and Ray took me out -- like from 10 to noon. We caught ten or so. I could have tried a catching record. I am sure we would have done as well any day. With a little effort I am sure we could have caught 100 or more. But I have done those things. At some point in time a lot of fish becomes just a lot of fish. The lake was great. The fish were great. Instead, Fate had me more deeply explore the definition of intestinal blockage. One day we all toured the lake by boat. Great guide: Ray has known the lake since the 1970’s. We did have an inversion and for a couple of days the lake was smoky.
It’s all about smoke. The summer we picked to see Montana’s spectacular scenery was the summer fate chose to liberally spread lots of large forest fires across the state. Records. We were bracketed by two. Not at Little Bitterroot, but close enough. The fires were active. For most, the plan was to let winter snow fall put them out. I disagree. It is my understanding that the reason God put men on earth was to kill snakes and put out forest fires.
So we wrapped up the vacation by having my slipped disk set a couple of times by a chiropractor in Kalispell. Go see Whitefish.
The next day we drove through 275 miles of smoke before seeing blue sky. There was one spot where the fire was burning to the road and several others where it had previously burned to the road. Then Sharon drove 100 miles over a couple of passes called “the Rattlesnake” -- Sharon’s story because I really cannot do it justice. Very deep canyons. Very narrow, winding roads. After an hour or so of this and a hen pheasant appeared on the road. In our lane. Sharon swerved. I closed my eyes. When there was no thump on the car, I opened them, saying: Guess you missed it. She said, I don’t know; I had my eyes closed. I said, I didn’t want to hear that! On to Enterprise, Oregon where we again started to see smoke. Another big fire, this time on the Im Na Ha.
We went down the Clearwater. Sharon saw an otter. We saw heron and osprey. It has a reputation for great steelhead fishing.
The next day it rained. This is a positive omen. My grand nephew took me on a tour of a cabin he was building on Wallowa Lake, a 4200 square foot jobby for a young lady. The living room ceilings were 24 feet high. The two children, ages two and three, are on one floor (first side door to the right off the front door) and mom and dad are on another floor (rear of the cabin overlooking the lake). (edit) (edit) They say that that spot on the lake has good fishing.
The next day it rained nearly all the way home. Another positive omen.
August 22, 2007
Manny came in and finally Cappy arrived yowling and growling. Pretty dry. Some flowers burned up, but not too bad overall. Lots of tomatoes. Lots of beans. Life is good. Looking forward to an August visit from Ray and Gay.
It is like this: bad calls in sporting events tend, they say, to even out over the length of the game. I figure, after this vacation, that I can anticipate at least six months of rich, trouble free life. Here’s a thought: I might try the lottery!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Landed In Oregon V
July 26, 2007
Two bedrooms painted and new flooring. Started putting stuff back. There is a trick about interior painting. The focus is on the paint: Color, texture, coordination, brand, and so on. One goes to one or two stores, looks a color charts. A store might even be able to download your room(s) and simulate different colors to see what looks best. But that is not what it really is all about. It is all about moving furniture, clothes, finding room elsewhere in the house for these things, cleaning up under the furniture that is now moved, removing hardware from the walls and doors, wall plugs, seeing repairs that are needed, seeing clothes that no longer fit, need repair, out of fashion. One paints. Then it all has to be moved back. Curtain brackets rehung, pictures rehung, door knobs fitted, wall plug covers reattached. If the curtains were not clean before, maybe now? Interior painting is not about painting. It is about home ecosystems. Even if one chooses to paint the same colors, this is all about radical change. If one does it, say, every five years, then it is usual and customary maintenance, but it is not ‘just painting.’
Watered trees above the creek this morning. The dawn redwood is feeling stress. I gave it about 5 gallons of water. I also watered the lower pasture. Looked good. Saw a couple of hens with young chicks -- about midway in size between a robin and a duck. Sharon said she also saw hens and chicks -- about a dozen. She said Cappy saw them, was curiously inquisitive, but a hen confronted him. He fled.
Also saw a doe and young buck. The drops from the apple tree seem to be attracting deer. The word is out. We have Fiona. Then we have an older, pregnant doe. There is a doe with a fawn, speckled with nubbin horns. Then, this morning, there is a doe with a yearling buck -- a spike. They come and go. Most of the time, none are here.
When I watered above the creek this morning, on the trail were places where deer had cleared the leaves and brush -- spots to lay down. The turkeys do it. Annie, the rabbit does it. Our cats do it. I have seen buffalo wallows in Montana. What is different is the site and materials. Our cats like to dust themselves on garage floors or drive ways -- a hard base. The turkeys prefer really soft ground -- under trees, for example. They create nest size wallows, but often don’t sit like a chicken. They stretch out, leaning against the side, one leg outstretched, wings akimbo. Annie digs troughs and tunnels. When hot she prefers fine powdery dirt to bathe in. It is all about bathing, powdering and scrubbing. One of the early armies -- Greeks, Romans, one of them -- didn’t use water to bath. They were same as the above.
7/30/07
Marine air the last two mornings. Lows in the fifties and highs in the eighties. Lots and lots of green tomatoes. The doe with the spike fawn has a three-point boyfriend. He has a fine bold rack, just coming out of velvet.
Cappy had a tear on right hind quarter. Sharon and I took him to the vet. He was there all day. The vet (she) sewed him up. He also got a crew cut. Tonight he is still dopey, afraid of us (which hurts) and still wanting balance. $ 220+. He ahs freaked out his brother, Manny.
August 1, 2007
Cappy had an off day. We have been keeping him in. Last night he decided he was well and wanted out of the laundry room. Have I mentioned Cappy’s meow? He shrieks. Kept me awake. Up at four. I couldn’t get him to slow down. Finally put him in the sun room. Mr. Manners is still freaked out by his brother. Hisses at him. Don’t know how brotherly love is going to be affected.
100 degrees today. Summer. Hot and dry. When we have clouds, the weatherman says, Dry clouds.
Sharon has plastic liter bottles she fills with water and freezes. When the temperature hits 90 we take one out to Annie. She has learned to cuddle right up to it.
Nubbin’s spots continue to fade. When he bounds across the lawn, he is emphatic, bounding apostrophe-cute.
August 3, 2007
We have had salad tomatoes for about a month. Harvested our first real thing today. They were supposed to be Brandywines. They don’t look like Brandywines...
August 5, 2007
I received a late birthday present on Friday. It was and I read The Deathly Hallows Friday and Saturday. And Sharon read it today. She’s fast!
We have had a couple of mornings in the mid-forties. When I watered trees this morning, they seemed to be doing okay. Some stress, but it looks like those in the lower pasture and near the Dawn Redwood will all make it.
I was running around on my tractor. We’ve had it may nine years. It is 12 horsepower. It is kind of a starting model. It equivalent now is about 17 horsepower. I remember, when we moved onto this property, I was going to be really organic. No need for a lawn tractor. I would do it all manually. Yep. That was good for about maybe six months. Now I am lusting for a 10 horsepower chipper.
Annie, the engineer, has dug below the workbench (and possibly under the foundation of the garage), about 18 inches. Wouldn’t be surprised to see the garage start sinking into the ground.
New water for Brat today.
Cappy’s wound is doing better -- only about a half inch spot to heal. I am not sure the brothers are getting along any better.
Two bedrooms painted and new flooring. Started putting stuff back. There is a trick about interior painting. The focus is on the paint: Color, texture, coordination, brand, and so on. One goes to one or two stores, looks a color charts. A store might even be able to download your room(s) and simulate different colors to see what looks best. But that is not what it really is all about. It is all about moving furniture, clothes, finding room elsewhere in the house for these things, cleaning up under the furniture that is now moved, removing hardware from the walls and doors, wall plugs, seeing repairs that are needed, seeing clothes that no longer fit, need repair, out of fashion. One paints. Then it all has to be moved back. Curtain brackets rehung, pictures rehung, door knobs fitted, wall plug covers reattached. If the curtains were not clean before, maybe now? Interior painting is not about painting. It is about home ecosystems. Even if one chooses to paint the same colors, this is all about radical change. If one does it, say, every five years, then it is usual and customary maintenance, but it is not ‘just painting.’
Watered trees above the creek this morning. The dawn redwood is feeling stress. I gave it about 5 gallons of water. I also watered the lower pasture. Looked good. Saw a couple of hens with young chicks -- about midway in size between a robin and a duck. Sharon said she also saw hens and chicks -- about a dozen. She said Cappy saw them, was curiously inquisitive, but a hen confronted him. He fled.
Also saw a doe and young buck. The drops from the apple tree seem to be attracting deer. The word is out. We have Fiona. Then we have an older, pregnant doe. There is a doe with a fawn, speckled with nubbin horns. Then, this morning, there is a doe with a yearling buck -- a spike. They come and go. Most of the time, none are here.
When I watered above the creek this morning, on the trail were places where deer had cleared the leaves and brush -- spots to lay down. The turkeys do it. Annie, the rabbit does it. Our cats do it. I have seen buffalo wallows in Montana. What is different is the site and materials. Our cats like to dust themselves on garage floors or drive ways -- a hard base. The turkeys prefer really soft ground -- under trees, for example. They create nest size wallows, but often don’t sit like a chicken. They stretch out, leaning against the side, one leg outstretched, wings akimbo. Annie digs troughs and tunnels. When hot she prefers fine powdery dirt to bathe in. It is all about bathing, powdering and scrubbing. One of the early armies -- Greeks, Romans, one of them -- didn’t use water to bath. They were same as the above.
7/30/07
Marine air the last two mornings. Lows in the fifties and highs in the eighties. Lots and lots of green tomatoes. The doe with the spike fawn has a three-point boyfriend. He has a fine bold rack, just coming out of velvet.
Cappy had a tear on right hind quarter. Sharon and I took him to the vet. He was there all day. The vet (she) sewed him up. He also got a crew cut. Tonight he is still dopey, afraid of us (which hurts) and still wanting balance. $ 220+. He ahs freaked out his brother, Manny.
August 1, 2007
Cappy had an off day. We have been keeping him in. Last night he decided he was well and wanted out of the laundry room. Have I mentioned Cappy’s meow? He shrieks. Kept me awake. Up at four. I couldn’t get him to slow down. Finally put him in the sun room. Mr. Manners is still freaked out by his brother. Hisses at him. Don’t know how brotherly love is going to be affected.
100 degrees today. Summer. Hot and dry. When we have clouds, the weatherman says, Dry clouds.
Sharon has plastic liter bottles she fills with water and freezes. When the temperature hits 90 we take one out to Annie. She has learned to cuddle right up to it.
Nubbin’s spots continue to fade. When he bounds across the lawn, he is emphatic, bounding apostrophe-cute.
August 3, 2007
We have had salad tomatoes for about a month. Harvested our first real thing today. They were supposed to be Brandywines. They don’t look like Brandywines...
August 5, 2007
I received a late birthday present on Friday. It was and I read The Deathly Hallows Friday and Saturday. And Sharon read it today. She’s fast!
We have had a couple of mornings in the mid-forties. When I watered trees this morning, they seemed to be doing okay. Some stress, but it looks like those in the lower pasture and near the Dawn Redwood will all make it.
I was running around on my tractor. We’ve had it may nine years. It is 12 horsepower. It is kind of a starting model. It equivalent now is about 17 horsepower. I remember, when we moved onto this property, I was going to be really organic. No need for a lawn tractor. I would do it all manually. Yep. That was good for about maybe six months. Now I am lusting for a 10 horsepower chipper.
Annie, the engineer, has dug below the workbench (and possibly under the foundation of the garage), about 18 inches. Wouldn’t be surprised to see the garage start sinking into the ground.
New water for Brat today.
Cappy’s wound is doing better -- only about a half inch spot to heal. I am not sure the brothers are getting along any better.
Landed in Oregon IV
July 21, 2007
Too much this week.
Roberta was here until Friday. We had about a half day of rain. We were preparing to paint two bedrooms. Started one today. Had people delivering flooring. Had people tearing out old carpeting and preparing the floor for a red oak flooring.
A new doe and fawn showed up this week. Would have been a spring birth. The fawn was still spotted, small, and had nubbins for horns. They were checking out the apple tree. My guess is that they are able to smell apples that have fallen from the tree.
We determined that the evening prim rose by the kitchen window does in fact bloom during the night. It leaves curl about 6 a.m. into much like a yellow rose.
The phantom rooter has rooted one more night.
The gopher in the garden is starting to work on the tomatoes. Are tomato roots poisonous? Hope so. Stay tuned. Sharon says we will invest in a gopher trap.
Weather in the 80’s. Hints of rain. Great for working.
In the garden I have in one bed what is called The Sculpture. It is a lot of old not used tomato cages, wired, soldered and taped together. Today, saw a red dragon fly. It is in the summer that the carnivore yellow jackets appear. Also, dragon flies. Dragon flies are more like swallows -- they get their prey on the fly. As the sun goes down, one can see them high in the sky, catching those insects that follow the sun’s rays as it sets.
July 21st & 22nd. Painting. Morning, noon and night.
July 23rd. The show started at 8 a.m. We painted some closet doors before they arrived. Flooring going in. Out-of-sight. Stay tuned.
Sharon & Marc
Too much this week.
Roberta was here until Friday. We had about a half day of rain. We were preparing to paint two bedrooms. Started one today. Had people delivering flooring. Had people tearing out old carpeting and preparing the floor for a red oak flooring.
A new doe and fawn showed up this week. Would have been a spring birth. The fawn was still spotted, small, and had nubbins for horns. They were checking out the apple tree. My guess is that they are able to smell apples that have fallen from the tree.
We determined that the evening prim rose by the kitchen window does in fact bloom during the night. It leaves curl about 6 a.m. into much like a yellow rose.
The phantom rooter has rooted one more night.
The gopher in the garden is starting to work on the tomatoes. Are tomato roots poisonous? Hope so. Stay tuned. Sharon says we will invest in a gopher trap.
Weather in the 80’s. Hints of rain. Great for working.
In the garden I have in one bed what is called The Sculpture. It is a lot of old not used tomato cages, wired, soldered and taped together. Today, saw a red dragon fly. It is in the summer that the carnivore yellow jackets appear. Also, dragon flies. Dragon flies are more like swallows -- they get their prey on the fly. As the sun goes down, one can see them high in the sky, catching those insects that follow the sun’s rays as it sets.
July 21st & 22nd. Painting. Morning, noon and night.
July 23rd. The show started at 8 a.m. We painted some closet doors before they arrived. Flooring going in. Out-of-sight. Stay tuned.
Sharon & Marc
Monday, August 6, 2007
Landed In Oregon III
July 9, 2007
Already the days are getting shorter. It means that temperatures at 7 p.m. a couple of weeks ago would be 95 are now 90. These will be the hottest days but they will be shorter days.
When I was working 8 to 5 I dreaded shorter days. Even before then. Remember when they meant that summer was coming to an end and school would soon be starting. The summer sale catalogs are appearing. When 8 to 5, it meant less daylight, it meant I could look forward to going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark.
I so much wanted to work -- 8 to 5 was fine -- that I did not really, really realize what a person is missing. Flowers, for example. School buses picking up and returning children. All kinds of folks shopping in the grocery store. The bank at 10 a.m. Downtown at 11 a.m. or 2 p.m. Not for a second did I ever consider that I might be giving up some things to work 8 to 5. Kind of like the wind in Landed II. I thought my life was Life. I never considered other alternate lives.
August will be as warm as July but in August -September the mornings will start getting cooler.
Mosquitoes. Pass Creek has mosquitoes. Not a lot. If one watches the water around one’s home, even fewer. They are so small they can hardly be called mosquitoes. With my eyesight, I can barely see them. And they are cowardly. Not in your face bold. Not morning, noon, and night. Rarely in your face or on your arms at all. If wearing slacks one might not be bitten at all. Not during the sunny part of the day. They don’t care for one’s shins or quads. And now, if you have been lulled to not worth being concerned, they do like the backs of one’s legs, particularly at the knee and below. Sneak up behind you. Cowardly.
On the way back from town, on the private road into the Refuge, Sharon saw the first turkey chicks of the season. Two hens and about a dozen chicks -- nearly junior high graduates. One has to ask where the hens have been keeping them all of this time. On the other hand, the hens were pretty nervous and proud.
July 10, 2007
The lettuce has nearly all bolted. (When you visualize that, what do you see?) Queen Anne’s Lace abounds. The bark of the Madrone is peeling. The skin beneath the bark is a yucky green -- like a humungous anaconda --until the new bark forms.
July 11, 2007
Hot. 104. Thunder and lightning starting about 10 p.m. and lasting 4-5 fours. Rain starting at 11p.m. More than expected. In July and August, any rain is a surprise. In the Valley, 2,000 lightning strikes and 20 fires. Little sleep. Woke up dehydrated, hungover.
July 12, 2007
To the coast. Sixty-degree weather. Great. Walked on the beach. A little ice cream. A little sea food. Life is good.
There is more to be said about bees. Each year, it takes awhile for insects to get started. By summer there is lots of green stuff for a insect to eat and lots of insects. Mid-summer comes the insect carnivores. My raised beds are patrolled by yellow jackets. They not only check both sides of the leaves but also crawl into the nooks and crannies of the beds.
We raise sun flowers in the beds. For a few years they would become shredded and we did not know why. The finch love young green sunflower leaves.
The raised beds also draw insect loving grosbeaks.
There was something else I wanted to say about bees, but spaced. Maybe next time.
July 13, 2007
Watered the Upper Pasture. Watered between the pasture and the creek. I have a fir and a sequoia in there. They are doing fine. The Upper Pasture has a long stretch of creek frontage and the creek is pooled there. Each year we have a couple of pair of ducks that arrive early and raise a family. But when I look at the pool I think trout and look. Rarely, I see a fish. Smallish.
In the Lower Pasture I unintentionally jumped Fiona. She was at the upper end, between the fence and the creek, where it was shaded, cool, and she could look down over the property to see if anyone or thing was coming.
The recently planted trees are doing okay.
July 14, 2007
I remember. Outside the study window is the hummingbird feeder. Cappy, our white and deaf Manx, likes to lay on top of the computer tower and watch the hummers and dream. In July, after a few hot days, bees start coming to the feeder. Not a honey bee. A dark bee. Sometimes it seems they are more interested in chasing each other off the feeder than tanking up on sugar water.
July 16, 2007
Fifty-five degrees this morning. Yesterday it was forty-nine. We have been getting marine air to start the day. It burns off about ten a.m. Very nice.
Already the days are getting shorter. It means that temperatures at 7 p.m. a couple of weeks ago would be 95 are now 90. These will be the hottest days but they will be shorter days.
When I was working 8 to 5 I dreaded shorter days. Even before then. Remember when they meant that summer was coming to an end and school would soon be starting. The summer sale catalogs are appearing. When 8 to 5, it meant less daylight, it meant I could look forward to going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark.
I so much wanted to work -- 8 to 5 was fine -- that I did not really, really realize what a person is missing. Flowers, for example. School buses picking up and returning children. All kinds of folks shopping in the grocery store. The bank at 10 a.m. Downtown at 11 a.m. or 2 p.m. Not for a second did I ever consider that I might be giving up some things to work 8 to 5. Kind of like the wind in Landed II. I thought my life was Life. I never considered other alternate lives.
August will be as warm as July but in August -September the mornings will start getting cooler.
Mosquitoes. Pass Creek has mosquitoes. Not a lot. If one watches the water around one’s home, even fewer. They are so small they can hardly be called mosquitoes. With my eyesight, I can barely see them. And they are cowardly. Not in your face bold. Not morning, noon, and night. Rarely in your face or on your arms at all. If wearing slacks one might not be bitten at all. Not during the sunny part of the day. They don’t care for one’s shins or quads. And now, if you have been lulled to not worth being concerned, they do like the backs of one’s legs, particularly at the knee and below. Sneak up behind you. Cowardly.
On the way back from town, on the private road into the Refuge, Sharon saw the first turkey chicks of the season. Two hens and about a dozen chicks -- nearly junior high graduates. One has to ask where the hens have been keeping them all of this time. On the other hand, the hens were pretty nervous and proud.
July 10, 2007
The lettuce has nearly all bolted. (When you visualize that, what do you see?) Queen Anne’s Lace abounds. The bark of the Madrone is peeling. The skin beneath the bark is a yucky green -- like a humungous anaconda --until the new bark forms.
July 11, 2007
Hot. 104. Thunder and lightning starting about 10 p.m. and lasting 4-5 fours. Rain starting at 11p.m. More than expected. In July and August, any rain is a surprise. In the Valley, 2,000 lightning strikes and 20 fires. Little sleep. Woke up dehydrated, hungover.
July 12, 2007
To the coast. Sixty-degree weather. Great. Walked on the beach. A little ice cream. A little sea food. Life is good.
There is more to be said about bees. Each year, it takes awhile for insects to get started. By summer there is lots of green stuff for a insect to eat and lots of insects. Mid-summer comes the insect carnivores. My raised beds are patrolled by yellow jackets. They not only check both sides of the leaves but also crawl into the nooks and crannies of the beds.
We raise sun flowers in the beds. For a few years they would become shredded and we did not know why. The finch love young green sunflower leaves.
The raised beds also draw insect loving grosbeaks.
There was something else I wanted to say about bees, but spaced. Maybe next time.
July 13, 2007
Watered the Upper Pasture. Watered between the pasture and the creek. I have a fir and a sequoia in there. They are doing fine. The Upper Pasture has a long stretch of creek frontage and the creek is pooled there. Each year we have a couple of pair of ducks that arrive early and raise a family. But when I look at the pool I think trout and look. Rarely, I see a fish. Smallish.
In the Lower Pasture I unintentionally jumped Fiona. She was at the upper end, between the fence and the creek, where it was shaded, cool, and she could look down over the property to see if anyone or thing was coming.
The recently planted trees are doing okay.
July 14, 2007
I remember. Outside the study window is the hummingbird feeder. Cappy, our white and deaf Manx, likes to lay on top of the computer tower and watch the hummers and dream. In July, after a few hot days, bees start coming to the feeder. Not a honey bee. A dark bee. Sometimes it seems they are more interested in chasing each other off the feeder than tanking up on sugar water.
July 16, 2007
Fifty-five degrees this morning. Yesterday it was forty-nine. We have been getting marine air to start the day. It burns off about ten a.m. Very nice.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Landed In Oregon II
July 2, 2007
I water the small planted trees until they can make it on their own. This morning I went into the Lower Pasture. Manny was there. He waved me off with his eyes. He signaled that he had a mouse located in a nearby clump of bunch grass, and was waiting for the opportune time to pounce. After I finished watering Manners was still there waiting.
I discovered that the Lower Pasture in rich in minerals. In fact, it might have a corner on the aluminum market. The prior owners saw this land different from us. From southern California, they were going to live on ‘the fat of the land.’ In a very small way (on a small piece of ground), they cleared the ground, planted grass, irrigated from the creek, rented out the upper pasture (one horse), and even built a shelter for the horse.
The shelter proved to aerodynamically adverse: as, the first strong wind flipped it. When we bought the property we bought a flipped shelter. I thought that could only be odd. With the help of one of Heather’s boyfriends, we righted it. The first strong wind flipped it. I dismantled it, saving what I could.
The new mantra: When wrong, recycle what you can.
I have piled lots and lots and lots of aluminum irrigation pipe and sprinkler heads and other assorted irrigation paraphernalia along the upper fence in the Lower Pasture.
They found out that raising young critters -- sheep and goats -- had more long hours and physical effort and heartbreak than they imagined. So, they decided to harvest the rich resource of timber. They cut on both sides of the creek. More than once. Their slash piles are still on the other side of the creek and on some of my old and forgotten to-do checklists.
So, my background is in rehabilitation. I have gone around digging out buried trees and righting them -- sometimes with supporting poles until they can hold themselves upright on their own.
July 3, 2007
Have I mentioned bees? I have never seen so many kinds of bees. This all stems from having a new lesson in life: Flowers. And my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. They deserve far more attention than I have given them. Very few honey bees. A big bumble bee. There is a bee (it must be a wild bee) that builds small hives in the ground. I don’t know if it digs itself or uses mouse or gopher holes. One might not know they are even there. Then, after the fall freeze, something (we think skunks) digs them up and eats the honey. All we see are remnants of honey combs and the excavations. Then there are the wasps that build under the eaves. Their babies are set up on some kind of time-release system. Throughout winter, a few warm days, and one or two are “born.” This continues until the new born survive. Even then, the “hive” still contains unhatched babies. Sometimes, jays come along under the eaves and pull off the hives. We find them dismantled on the ground. The unhatchlings are gone. Protein.
There is a bee. It first appears floating about three feet in front of one’s eyes. It is hard to see clearly because it keeps moving. Should I say “feinting?” (I think it is a bee). I don’t think they sting. I think they bite. It is like they give fair warning. If you back up or turn right or left, they fly off. If you persist in the same direction, they fly into you. It might be a sleeve, arm, hair, face, whatever. They bounce off. You think, “Well, so what!” And then, maybe, sometimes, a half minute later a spot will start aching like a bite. Leaving a small welt. I have never seen a hive. Sometimes they appear to be defending one piece of ground and sometimes another. There is only one spot where they have been all they years we have lived here: Down between the South Forty and The Cliff. I don’t know where they come from or go to. (I wonder if these are the below ground dwellers).
There is a time when young cats and dogs chase anything. Eventually they learn about bees. Here, there are times when even mature cats will be lazily lying on the grass when suddenly (you can see they are suddenly seeing something) they leap up and run about ten feet or so. Then, they might lie down again. I think it might be one of these bees. Never been close enough to really see.
July 4, 2007
Another mystery. Between the house and the pump house we have a mulch pile. Any straw, pile of leaves, pine needles, turkeys cannot resist. They must scratch to see what’s on the other side. So from time to time turkeys deconstruct the mulch pile and from time to time I reconstruct it. So, the last three nights something has been burrowing through the mulch pile. Turkeys are not out at night. What it is has not scratched the mulch. It was churned. Rooted. (Like a pig?) So far it has avoided the volunteer potatoes and pumpkin. It is not scratched like a dog. Or ‘coon. Could it be those little critters that play dead? Possum.
July 5, 2007.
Hot. Getting the watering done early. Leak in the line between the pump house and the house. I dug it out. The plumber had it fixed in an hour. By doing the grunt work I saved over $ 100 on the bill.
No rooting last night in the mulch pile.
Saw a buck down near the plum tree. Our only bearing plum tree is down on the South Forty. I waved at him, but made in nervous. He headed through the brush down toward the creek.
July 8, 2007
Artichokes about ready for another meal. Watered the Dawn Redwood. It was thirsty.
More names. Origination of the names “pond” and “border.” One must have a garden. That is hard on the back. How about raised beds? Of course. After they are built, where get the dirt? It is a funny question when sitting on seven acres. Why not have it hauled in? But unsure the bridge could handle heavy loads. Dirt from near the creek ought to be okay. Using a riding mower and little cart to haul it, I hauled dirt for a while. What was left was a hole in the ground. Sharon said, That would make a great POND. So “pond” went on the checklist where it still resides. And the hole in the ground is called The Pond. When we got married we invited people to walk fifty feet to and look into the hole in the ground called “Pond.” Few did. Few of those understood.
There was one other place where dirt was dug for the garden. The South Forty is mostly grass bordered by trees. Leaf trees. When the leaves fall they lie unraked. Eventually they are pushed by the wind against the tree border. It is a natural mulch, I thought. So I dug along the border, a swath about six feet wide and ten inches deep. What do you call a barren spot about six feet wide and 75 feet long bordering the trees that border the South Forty. Right.
Eventually Shasta Daisies and Sweet Williams discovered this spot and moved in.
A Problem on Pass Creek. That is what happens when you give two different things the same name. Along side the house to the west Sharon had been experimenting with different flower combinations. We called this spot “The Border.” We have two borders. Can the marriage survive? Can three borders be far behind?
When I was a kid, and I was home and heard the wind blowing outside, I used to believe that when the wind blew it was blowing everywhere. A single wind. Kind of like those pictures of The Wind in kid’s books. A Wind. I never gave it much thought. When nearly through high school, I was sitting out in the forest one day, and I happened to listen to the wind. It was here. It was there. Moving. It is coming, going by ... there. Is it going to hit me? No, it is just to my left. Winds! Later, I watched the same thing on a body of water. One can see many different winds, on the move, scattered, all over the water, some stronger, some lighter.
That wind in the forest, that is how it is here in the Refuge, Sanctuary, Heaven, Farm. Good listening. Mostly soothing. It comes mostly from the west or the south. Days might go by when one is unable to hear it (notice, I didn’t say them) at all.
Pass Creek has another wind. It is here everyday, but can’t be heard. It can be felt and sometimes seen. It is a gentle wind that runs along the creek. In the morning it runs up creek and in the evening it runs down creek. For me, it is more noticeable in the summer.
I water the small planted trees until they can make it on their own. This morning I went into the Lower Pasture. Manny was there. He waved me off with his eyes. He signaled that he had a mouse located in a nearby clump of bunch grass, and was waiting for the opportune time to pounce. After I finished watering Manners was still there waiting.
I discovered that the Lower Pasture in rich in minerals. In fact, it might have a corner on the aluminum market. The prior owners saw this land different from us. From southern California, they were going to live on ‘the fat of the land.’ In a very small way (on a small piece of ground), they cleared the ground, planted grass, irrigated from the creek, rented out the upper pasture (one horse), and even built a shelter for the horse.
The shelter proved to aerodynamically adverse: as, the first strong wind flipped it. When we bought the property we bought a flipped shelter. I thought that could only be odd. With the help of one of Heather’s boyfriends, we righted it. The first strong wind flipped it. I dismantled it, saving what I could.
The new mantra: When wrong, recycle what you can.
I have piled lots and lots and lots of aluminum irrigation pipe and sprinkler heads and other assorted irrigation paraphernalia along the upper fence in the Lower Pasture.
They found out that raising young critters -- sheep and goats -- had more long hours and physical effort and heartbreak than they imagined. So, they decided to harvest the rich resource of timber. They cut on both sides of the creek. More than once. Their slash piles are still on the other side of the creek and on some of my old and forgotten to-do checklists.
So, my background is in rehabilitation. I have gone around digging out buried trees and righting them -- sometimes with supporting poles until they can hold themselves upright on their own.
July 3, 2007
Have I mentioned bees? I have never seen so many kinds of bees. This all stems from having a new lesson in life: Flowers. And my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. They deserve far more attention than I have given them. Very few honey bees. A big bumble bee. There is a bee (it must be a wild bee) that builds small hives in the ground. I don’t know if it digs itself or uses mouse or gopher holes. One might not know they are even there. Then, after the fall freeze, something (we think skunks) digs them up and eats the honey. All we see are remnants of honey combs and the excavations. Then there are the wasps that build under the eaves. Their babies are set up on some kind of time-release system. Throughout winter, a few warm days, and one or two are “born.” This continues until the new born survive. Even then, the “hive” still contains unhatched babies. Sometimes, jays come along under the eaves and pull off the hives. We find them dismantled on the ground. The unhatchlings are gone. Protein.
There is a bee. It first appears floating about three feet in front of one’s eyes. It is hard to see clearly because it keeps moving. Should I say “feinting?” (I think it is a bee). I don’t think they sting. I think they bite. It is like they give fair warning. If you back up or turn right or left, they fly off. If you persist in the same direction, they fly into you. It might be a sleeve, arm, hair, face, whatever. They bounce off. You think, “Well, so what!” And then, maybe, sometimes, a half minute later a spot will start aching like a bite. Leaving a small welt. I have never seen a hive. Sometimes they appear to be defending one piece of ground and sometimes another. There is only one spot where they have been all they years we have lived here: Down between the South Forty and The Cliff. I don’t know where they come from or go to. (I wonder if these are the below ground dwellers).
There is a time when young cats and dogs chase anything. Eventually they learn about bees. Here, there are times when even mature cats will be lazily lying on the grass when suddenly (you can see they are suddenly seeing something) they leap up and run about ten feet or so. Then, they might lie down again. I think it might be one of these bees. Never been close enough to really see.
July 4, 2007
Another mystery. Between the house and the pump house we have a mulch pile. Any straw, pile of leaves, pine needles, turkeys cannot resist. They must scratch to see what’s on the other side. So from time to time turkeys deconstruct the mulch pile and from time to time I reconstruct it. So, the last three nights something has been burrowing through the mulch pile. Turkeys are not out at night. What it is has not scratched the mulch. It was churned. Rooted. (Like a pig?) So far it has avoided the volunteer potatoes and pumpkin. It is not scratched like a dog. Or ‘coon. Could it be those little critters that play dead? Possum.
July 5, 2007.
Hot. Getting the watering done early. Leak in the line between the pump house and the house. I dug it out. The plumber had it fixed in an hour. By doing the grunt work I saved over $ 100 on the bill.
No rooting last night in the mulch pile.
Saw a buck down near the plum tree. Our only bearing plum tree is down on the South Forty. I waved at him, but made in nervous. He headed through the brush down toward the creek.
July 8, 2007
Artichokes about ready for another meal. Watered the Dawn Redwood. It was thirsty.
More names. Origination of the names “pond” and “border.” One must have a garden. That is hard on the back. How about raised beds? Of course. After they are built, where get the dirt? It is a funny question when sitting on seven acres. Why not have it hauled in? But unsure the bridge could handle heavy loads. Dirt from near the creek ought to be okay. Using a riding mower and little cart to haul it, I hauled dirt for a while. What was left was a hole in the ground. Sharon said, That would make a great POND. So “pond” went on the checklist where it still resides. And the hole in the ground is called The Pond. When we got married we invited people to walk fifty feet to and look into the hole in the ground called “Pond.” Few did. Few of those understood.
There was one other place where dirt was dug for the garden. The South Forty is mostly grass bordered by trees. Leaf trees. When the leaves fall they lie unraked. Eventually they are pushed by the wind against the tree border. It is a natural mulch, I thought. So I dug along the border, a swath about six feet wide and ten inches deep. What do you call a barren spot about six feet wide and 75 feet long bordering the trees that border the South Forty. Right.
Eventually Shasta Daisies and Sweet Williams discovered this spot and moved in.
A Problem on Pass Creek. That is what happens when you give two different things the same name. Along side the house to the west Sharon had been experimenting with different flower combinations. We called this spot “The Border.” We have two borders. Can the marriage survive? Can three borders be far behind?
When I was a kid, and I was home and heard the wind blowing outside, I used to believe that when the wind blew it was blowing everywhere. A single wind. Kind of like those pictures of The Wind in kid’s books. A Wind. I never gave it much thought. When nearly through high school, I was sitting out in the forest one day, and I happened to listen to the wind. It was here. It was there. Moving. It is coming, going by ... there. Is it going to hit me? No, it is just to my left. Winds! Later, I watched the same thing on a body of water. One can see many different winds, on the move, scattered, all over the water, some stronger, some lighter.
That wind in the forest, that is how it is here in the Refuge, Sanctuary, Heaven, Farm. Good listening. Mostly soothing. It comes mostly from the west or the south. Days might go by when one is unable to hear it (notice, I didn’t say them) at all.
Pass Creek has another wind. It is here everyday, but can’t be heard. It can be felt and sometimes seen. It is a gentle wind that runs along the creek. In the morning it runs up creek and in the evening it runs down creek. For me, it is more noticeable in the summer.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Landed in Oregon I
June 2007
In the beginning was a word. If I am going to start to write about something then I need to name. Naming. In the beginning was a photo: Sharon might use her camera instead. Later, they called it defining. And if I were cool, I might use a GPS system. In the beginning was GPS. I will name.
Our initial email handle was Markpark. We thought of this land as a refuge or park or something peaceful. We are still trying to figure a name for this chunk of land. By writing I hope to bring alive the property by giving it some history. Maybe we can arrive at a name.
In 1995 Sharon and I bought this land. It included a house, an old barn for small animals, some sheds, a pump house, and some fenced land. (One time we shought another bid for fire insurance. A young agent came out. He thought our pump house was an out house.) There was an electric pump, near the creek, used for irrigation. We had looked for something to buy for at least three years. The Ashland side of the valley was preferred, but the prices for property there kept rapidly climbing and less and less property was available. Of course we were looking beyond a subdivision to a little land and maybe a stream. Our search stretched to the boundaries of the valley, and one day Sharon (clearly excited) said she wanted me to look at a house and land she had found.
It is about seven acres. This area is zoned in five acre parcels. However, for some reason, we have a 2.2 acre parcel also with building rights. You cannot see the neighbors upstream or downstream. A creek runs through the property.
As I said, we have not found a name yet. Primarily, it is The Refuge -- for us and other critters. It came with Barney, the pot belly pig, and Curly, the Angora goat, Andrew, the rooster, and Wilber, the rabbit. So, then it was The Farm. Maybe, Old Folks Farm.
It is eight miles down river (the Rogue River) from Grants Pass, Oregon. It is on Lower Pass Creek Road. Our home is about two miles from the Rogue River. On Pass Creek Road, instead of turning left and driving to Friendly Bend (a renown fishing hole) on the Rogue, turn right and go onto a single lane dirt road across the bridge and through our gate. (We have now replaced the bridge with another bridge and replaced that bridge with a culvert.) From the highway to the gate is about 100 yards. This road is part of the property. If one stays on the highway, it is about three miles to Wild Life Images. At that point there is a “Y.” To the right one goes to Merlin. To the left one crosses the river at Robertson Bridge and then circles back to Redwood Highway on the other side of the river.
We moved from Sharon’s home in Ashland in February of 1996. Lots of people volunteered to help. We had a big rented moving van. I remember Curtis Cooter from the Applegate, my grand nephew Rob Duncan from Talent, my sister and Rob’s grandmother Dolores Duncan from Medford. I helped very little. At the time I was recovering from hernia surgery. I was totally overwhelmed with the beauty of the place. Truly, it was the gift of an angel.
I can remember thinking that one of the first things I was going to do was inventory all the trees on the property. Then I looked and looked and realized it would never happen.
There were all kinds and all numbers of trees. I would have spent all my time inventorying trees. What a crazy thought. Certainly, a feverish thought.
Our neighbors to the north are Bonnie and Jim. They recently moved from California. Bonnie is a nurse. Jim, right now, does maintenance for a property management firm in Grants Pass. He was in Vietnam. Our neighbor to the east (up creek) is Kathy, a retired railroad worker who went to private kennel owner. Our neighbor down stream is Gary. Gary is a native Oregonian. He is a mason.
Naming the property. On the west side of Pass Creek and to the north is The Upper Pasture. (It crosses the creek and borders Kathy’s dog kennel. Down creek is The Lower Pasture. (It also slightly crosses the creek.) To the west of the Lower Pasture are some pasture, barn, and several pens we together call The Goaty Boys’ Pasture. The lower pasture bordering the creek was scrapped bare. Down stream we then arrive at home and the gazebo which is close to the creek. To the west of the home is the two car garage and chicken pen. To the west of that is land we call The Scar. Our predecessors logged the area and when we arrived not a thing was growing on it. Down stream (south, sort of) from the house, is the Pump House and Madrone (several madrone trees), a few apple, plum and pear trees, we call The South Forty. The creek then turns to the west, making a big “S” and cutting deeply into the bank. We call the cut The Cliff.
The east side of the creek is less defined. Across the creek directly we had the road and the eight or so people who lived up creek came by daily. They could see into our living room. We waved a lot. Then high water washed out the road . It was too expensive for them to repair. We gave them use of the land farther up the hill. Now we have The Washout and Hill Road. What was the Road is now the Path. And with the road further away, our passing neighbors cannot see into our living room. We would probably wave if we could see them, but we no longer can. I am grateful.
The high water also took out that pump used to get irrigation water from the creek. There was/is an underground electrical line from the barn to the old pump’s location, but the pump itself is gone. I do not know if the underground line could still carry electricity.
The Scar is now filled in with trees and flowers and grass, but we still call it The Scar. And the scarred Lower Pasture is filled in with grass and trees and a few graves. See the following.
Wilber and Barney and Andrew and Curly have all passed on. Cuddles, too. Tiger came from Ashland with Cuddles and he would not stay. MIA. Then we got the goaty boys, Brat and Houdini -- free from people a few miles up the highway. Gift Goats. ‘Dini has moved on now. Can Brat be far behind?
The house has been painted twice. A sun room was added on the south side. Also the Gazebo and garden. A wedding. Cement floor in the garage. This past year we replaced the bridge. All kinds of flowers (learning their names seems to be one of my lessons here). Many new trees.
We have the trees I plant and Sharon plants and we have volunteers. There are all kinds of volunteers -- fir, pine, oak, and all kinds of trees along the creek. I am partial to evergreens. (Though this spring I did plant a Dawn Redwood. It is a primitive tree that sheds its needles.) Sharon seems partial to a variety of trees, but wants them all close to the house.
We have chunks of ground that we still have not walked on.
Here, one learns about the seasons. Fast, slow, hot, cold, wet, dry, sweet. Here, the wildlife studies us far more closely than we study it. One can hardly go along the creek and one or more birds silently comes along to see what we are up to. The goats were the same. They were far more entertained by watching us than us watching them.
June 18, 2007
A month ago the Rock Roses started blooming -- in time for our anniversary. On the road the Wild Roses -- white and pink started. Wild Lilac -- slow when compared to the domestic lilac -- started abut the same time. The Wild Lilac is slowing down. Wild Peas are coming on. Meanwhile the Rock Roses and Wild Roses are doing fine.
With some unusually warm weather, the Madrone (Sunset would call it Madrona) have started shedding their leaves. At the start of the hot weather the Madrone sheds some of its leaves. Come August, or thereabouts, the Madrone will start shedding its bark. That’s another story. It does not shed anything when leaf trees are getting ready for winter.
Skunk Cabbage, one of our earliest flowers, has now bloomed and faded. Wild Iris, later, has bloomed. Rose Campion, so vivid it lights up shadows, has started on both sides of the creek. For several weeks now we have had explosions of white blooms on the creek. We think it is Mock Orange.
There is enough Mock Orange and enough Wild Lilac that, walking the property, it perfumes the air.
The border along the Lower Forty has sizeable stands of Shasta Daisies and a variety of Sweet Williams.
At first we had a handful of California poppies down on the South Forty. We tried planting them on the upper pasture. Nada. Then one year a few volunteers showed up around the house. Many now. They sleep in the morning and on cloudy days. Now we have a cluster of volunteer red oriental poppies.
The first time in memory, this year the goats’ have not by now mowed their pasture close to the ground. ‘Dini passed on to that Great Pasture in the Sky this past winter and that has left Brat to do the mowing. He is not up to the job.
June 20, 2007
Chicory. The Wild Peas are deep rooted. They are competitive, even with blackberries. They start early and will produce blossoms throughout the summer. Queen Anne’s Lace also is deep rooted, has yet to start this year and will finish in the summer. Another deep rooted plant is Chicory. It is just starting to bloom. It will continue into the fall. I enjoy the color of Chicory in faded light -- just before the sun rises and after it sets.
June 24, 2007
Thirty-eight degrees this morning. The expected high is in the high seventies. I cut poison oak near the gazebo, put up some tomato cages. We have several tomato plants with fruit. Last week we had our first artichokes and should have another four this week. One raised bed I had in peas and snap peas. (There was also a volunteer potato.) The peas are done. The potato was done. Today I spaded the bed. Last year the bed was in tomatoes. There is time for another crop of something this year. Fiona the doe was in the mulch pile this evening. When I made her nervous, watching her, she shifted to the creek side apple tree. Last week, in the morning, we caught her tipping the bird feeder (sun flower seed) and catching the falling seed in her mouth. We had thought the seed was disappearing rather rapidly. Given a choice of villain, we surely would have guessed the squirrel.
June 25, 2007
Thirty-seven degrees this morning.
June 28, 2007
Mystery solved. About a month ago, a zucchini (the only one we planted because, you know) disappeared. Simply gone. Not even an indentation in the ground. Gone. So, we had been on a trip and our house sitter said a turkey had flown over the fence.... Maybe. So, I bought another one. It was bigger because the season was more advanced. It settled in. It did fine. Yesterday, it was gone. Same as the other. Gone. I couldn’t quite believe it. I looked again today. Gone. had to be a gopher. I got a trowel and poked around. Yes, a gopher. I don’t know what to do about it, but I now know who.
Brat, sometimes, when he stands, has a limp. After he walks a bit, it goes away. I know all about that. Me too.
I’ve started watering Brat’s pasture. Mowed it some. The cut grass will act as mulch and shade for the water.
Been doing a survey of planted evergreens for purposes of determining if I should water them. They are doing okay. Did find one that was parched. More are finding they are losing the competition for light. I did trim some brush and grass away.
The path to the gazebo is over grown. Who would have guessed those little trees would grow? Surveying other locations for a path.
This spring, at Saturday Market, Sharon bought several dozen pussy willows. She put them in water and a couple of dozen sprouted. These I planted in several locations along the creek. The planting difference -- with a willow -- is that at the edge of the creek in the mud using a shovel one simply creates a slit and plants the willow in it. Most have survived and are doing fine.
I think I have a volunteer English Walnut. I need to get Sharon’s opinion.
Our plum tree has leaf curl infestation. It was affected new growth. I trimmed much of it. We might have to spray!!!
This is my first close experience with a rabbit. Annie, like a beaver, is an engineer. Except, she works with dirt. She has tunneled under every object in her cage. She has created random dips and mounds of dirt. She has tunneled out of her cage three times. It is easy to sympathize with her. If she wants freedom that badly, shouldn’t we simply turn her loose? Out here where coyotes and owls and hawks and other carnivores would dine on her? Meanwhile, she keeps digging. What to do?
We are expecting a little rain tomorrow and Saturday. A little cooler. Yesterday, it was in the nineties. The front preceding that rain is now coming through. When the wind hits the Madrone there is a rustling and an explosion of dead dry leaves.
June 29, 2007
It did rain. Off and on. One time 16 ¼ drops. Another 18 ½ drops. I figure, altogether, we received, maybe, 55 drops. The air is fresh. All signs of a rain were gone by ten a.m.
July 1, 2007
We are expecting 100 degree heat on the 4th. I leave you with a mystery. Where are the hen turkeys? Where are the chicks? I have never seen a hen setting. I have never seen an old nest. One of these days one will come by with her kids -- half grown. It is a mystery.
Happy Fourth of July
Sharon & Marc
In the beginning was a word. If I am going to start to write about something then I need to name. Naming. In the beginning was a photo: Sharon might use her camera instead. Later, they called it defining. And if I were cool, I might use a GPS system. In the beginning was GPS. I will name.
Our initial email handle was Markpark. We thought of this land as a refuge or park or something peaceful. We are still trying to figure a name for this chunk of land. By writing I hope to bring alive the property by giving it some history. Maybe we can arrive at a name.
In 1995 Sharon and I bought this land. It included a house, an old barn for small animals, some sheds, a pump house, and some fenced land. (One time we shought another bid for fire insurance. A young agent came out. He thought our pump house was an out house.) There was an electric pump, near the creek, used for irrigation. We had looked for something to buy for at least three years. The Ashland side of the valley was preferred, but the prices for property there kept rapidly climbing and less and less property was available. Of course we were looking beyond a subdivision to a little land and maybe a stream. Our search stretched to the boundaries of the valley, and one day Sharon (clearly excited) said she wanted me to look at a house and land she had found.
It is about seven acres. This area is zoned in five acre parcels. However, for some reason, we have a 2.2 acre parcel also with building rights. You cannot see the neighbors upstream or downstream. A creek runs through the property.
As I said, we have not found a name yet. Primarily, it is The Refuge -- for us and other critters. It came with Barney, the pot belly pig, and Curly, the Angora goat, Andrew, the rooster, and Wilber, the rabbit. So, then it was The Farm. Maybe, Old Folks Farm.
It is eight miles down river (the Rogue River) from Grants Pass, Oregon. It is on Lower Pass Creek Road. Our home is about two miles from the Rogue River. On Pass Creek Road, instead of turning left and driving to Friendly Bend (a renown fishing hole) on the Rogue, turn right and go onto a single lane dirt road across the bridge and through our gate. (We have now replaced the bridge with another bridge and replaced that bridge with a culvert.) From the highway to the gate is about 100 yards. This road is part of the property. If one stays on the highway, it is about three miles to Wild Life Images. At that point there is a “Y.” To the right one goes to Merlin. To the left one crosses the river at Robertson Bridge and then circles back to Redwood Highway on the other side of the river.
We moved from Sharon’s home in Ashland in February of 1996. Lots of people volunteered to help. We had a big rented moving van. I remember Curtis Cooter from the Applegate, my grand nephew Rob Duncan from Talent, my sister and Rob’s grandmother Dolores Duncan from Medford. I helped very little. At the time I was recovering from hernia surgery. I was totally overwhelmed with the beauty of the place. Truly, it was the gift of an angel.
I can remember thinking that one of the first things I was going to do was inventory all the trees on the property. Then I looked and looked and realized it would never happen.
There were all kinds and all numbers of trees. I would have spent all my time inventorying trees. What a crazy thought. Certainly, a feverish thought.
Our neighbors to the north are Bonnie and Jim. They recently moved from California. Bonnie is a nurse. Jim, right now, does maintenance for a property management firm in Grants Pass. He was in Vietnam. Our neighbor to the east (up creek) is Kathy, a retired railroad worker who went to private kennel owner. Our neighbor down stream is Gary. Gary is a native Oregonian. He is a mason.
Naming the property. On the west side of Pass Creek and to the north is The Upper Pasture. (It crosses the creek and borders Kathy’s dog kennel. Down creek is The Lower Pasture. (It also slightly crosses the creek.) To the west of the Lower Pasture are some pasture, barn, and several pens we together call The Goaty Boys’ Pasture. The lower pasture bordering the creek was scrapped bare. Down stream we then arrive at home and the gazebo which is close to the creek. To the west of the home is the two car garage and chicken pen. To the west of that is land we call The Scar. Our predecessors logged the area and when we arrived not a thing was growing on it. Down stream (south, sort of) from the house, is the Pump House and Madrone (several madrone trees), a few apple, plum and pear trees, we call The South Forty. The creek then turns to the west, making a big “S” and cutting deeply into the bank. We call the cut The Cliff.
The east side of the creek is less defined. Across the creek directly we had the road and the eight or so people who lived up creek came by daily. They could see into our living room. We waved a lot. Then high water washed out the road . It was too expensive for them to repair. We gave them use of the land farther up the hill. Now we have The Washout and Hill Road. What was the Road is now the Path. And with the road further away, our passing neighbors cannot see into our living room. We would probably wave if we could see them, but we no longer can. I am grateful.
The high water also took out that pump used to get irrigation water from the creek. There was/is an underground electrical line from the barn to the old pump’s location, but the pump itself is gone. I do not know if the underground line could still carry electricity.
The Scar is now filled in with trees and flowers and grass, but we still call it The Scar. And the scarred Lower Pasture is filled in with grass and trees and a few graves. See the following.
Wilber and Barney and Andrew and Curly have all passed on. Cuddles, too. Tiger came from Ashland with Cuddles and he would not stay. MIA. Then we got the goaty boys, Brat and Houdini -- free from people a few miles up the highway. Gift Goats. ‘Dini has moved on now. Can Brat be far behind?
The house has been painted twice. A sun room was added on the south side. Also the Gazebo and garden. A wedding. Cement floor in the garage. This past year we replaced the bridge. All kinds of flowers (learning their names seems to be one of my lessons here). Many new trees.
We have the trees I plant and Sharon plants and we have volunteers. There are all kinds of volunteers -- fir, pine, oak, and all kinds of trees along the creek. I am partial to evergreens. (Though this spring I did plant a Dawn Redwood. It is a primitive tree that sheds its needles.) Sharon seems partial to a variety of trees, but wants them all close to the house.
We have chunks of ground that we still have not walked on.
Here, one learns about the seasons. Fast, slow, hot, cold, wet, dry, sweet. Here, the wildlife studies us far more closely than we study it. One can hardly go along the creek and one or more birds silently comes along to see what we are up to. The goats were the same. They were far more entertained by watching us than us watching them.
June 18, 2007
A month ago the Rock Roses started blooming -- in time for our anniversary. On the road the Wild Roses -- white and pink started. Wild Lilac -- slow when compared to the domestic lilac -- started abut the same time. The Wild Lilac is slowing down. Wild Peas are coming on. Meanwhile the Rock Roses and Wild Roses are doing fine.
With some unusually warm weather, the Madrone (Sunset would call it Madrona) have started shedding their leaves. At the start of the hot weather the Madrone sheds some of its leaves. Come August, or thereabouts, the Madrone will start shedding its bark. That’s another story. It does not shed anything when leaf trees are getting ready for winter.
Skunk Cabbage, one of our earliest flowers, has now bloomed and faded. Wild Iris, later, has bloomed. Rose Campion, so vivid it lights up shadows, has started on both sides of the creek. For several weeks now we have had explosions of white blooms on the creek. We think it is Mock Orange.
There is enough Mock Orange and enough Wild Lilac that, walking the property, it perfumes the air.
The border along the Lower Forty has sizeable stands of Shasta Daisies and a variety of Sweet Williams.
At first we had a handful of California poppies down on the South Forty. We tried planting them on the upper pasture. Nada. Then one year a few volunteers showed up around the house. Many now. They sleep in the morning and on cloudy days. Now we have a cluster of volunteer red oriental poppies.
The first time in memory, this year the goats’ have not by now mowed their pasture close to the ground. ‘Dini passed on to that Great Pasture in the Sky this past winter and that has left Brat to do the mowing. He is not up to the job.
June 20, 2007
Chicory. The Wild Peas are deep rooted. They are competitive, even with blackberries. They start early and will produce blossoms throughout the summer. Queen Anne’s Lace also is deep rooted, has yet to start this year and will finish in the summer. Another deep rooted plant is Chicory. It is just starting to bloom. It will continue into the fall. I enjoy the color of Chicory in faded light -- just before the sun rises and after it sets.
June 24, 2007
Thirty-eight degrees this morning. The expected high is in the high seventies. I cut poison oak near the gazebo, put up some tomato cages. We have several tomato plants with fruit. Last week we had our first artichokes and should have another four this week. One raised bed I had in peas and snap peas. (There was also a volunteer potato.) The peas are done. The potato was done. Today I spaded the bed. Last year the bed was in tomatoes. There is time for another crop of something this year. Fiona the doe was in the mulch pile this evening. When I made her nervous, watching her, she shifted to the creek side apple tree. Last week, in the morning, we caught her tipping the bird feeder (sun flower seed) and catching the falling seed in her mouth. We had thought the seed was disappearing rather rapidly. Given a choice of villain, we surely would have guessed the squirrel.
June 25, 2007
Thirty-seven degrees this morning.
June 28, 2007
Mystery solved. About a month ago, a zucchini (the only one we planted because, you know) disappeared. Simply gone. Not even an indentation in the ground. Gone. So, we had been on a trip and our house sitter said a turkey had flown over the fence.... Maybe. So, I bought another one. It was bigger because the season was more advanced. It settled in. It did fine. Yesterday, it was gone. Same as the other. Gone. I couldn’t quite believe it. I looked again today. Gone. had to be a gopher. I got a trowel and poked around. Yes, a gopher. I don’t know what to do about it, but I now know who.
Brat, sometimes, when he stands, has a limp. After he walks a bit, it goes away. I know all about that. Me too.
I’ve started watering Brat’s pasture. Mowed it some. The cut grass will act as mulch and shade for the water.
Been doing a survey of planted evergreens for purposes of determining if I should water them. They are doing okay. Did find one that was parched. More are finding they are losing the competition for light. I did trim some brush and grass away.
The path to the gazebo is over grown. Who would have guessed those little trees would grow? Surveying other locations for a path.
This spring, at Saturday Market, Sharon bought several dozen pussy willows. She put them in water and a couple of dozen sprouted. These I planted in several locations along the creek. The planting difference -- with a willow -- is that at the edge of the creek in the mud using a shovel one simply creates a slit and plants the willow in it. Most have survived and are doing fine.
I think I have a volunteer English Walnut. I need to get Sharon’s opinion.
Our plum tree has leaf curl infestation. It was affected new growth. I trimmed much of it. We might have to spray!!!
This is my first close experience with a rabbit. Annie, like a beaver, is an engineer. Except, she works with dirt. She has tunneled under every object in her cage. She has created random dips and mounds of dirt. She has tunneled out of her cage three times. It is easy to sympathize with her. If she wants freedom that badly, shouldn’t we simply turn her loose? Out here where coyotes and owls and hawks and other carnivores would dine on her? Meanwhile, she keeps digging. What to do?
We are expecting a little rain tomorrow and Saturday. A little cooler. Yesterday, it was in the nineties. The front preceding that rain is now coming through. When the wind hits the Madrone there is a rustling and an explosion of dead dry leaves.
June 29, 2007
It did rain. Off and on. One time 16 ¼ drops. Another 18 ½ drops. I figure, altogether, we received, maybe, 55 drops. The air is fresh. All signs of a rain were gone by ten a.m.
July 1, 2007
We are expecting 100 degree heat on the 4th. I leave you with a mystery. Where are the hen turkeys? Where are the chicks? I have never seen a hen setting. I have never seen an old nest. One of these days one will come by with her kids -- half grown. It is a mystery.
Happy Fourth of July
Sharon & Marc
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