A Very Fine Thing

The big day has finally arrived. It seemed like it would never get here. The acrimonious process just drags on forever now it seems. I could have voted early, but I wanted the full local experience, the chance maybe to see some more of my neighbors.

Let's head down the mountain to my polling station.



I think I have been trying to kill off fall a bit too early. There is still a ton of color left in the forest. The tone is decidedly different. An infusion of brown mixes with a more rust red and more amber yellows. The hills look like they have been doused in a light coat of red barn paint.



Here we are, the entrance to the Fines Creek Volunteer Fire Department, station 2600, established in 1990, my new polling station.



The volunteer fire department is the building on the right. The parking lot is full. At 9:45 am, I had to wait behind one elderly couple. About six more people came in behind me. I have no idea if this would be considered a big turnout in this neck of the woods.



Out along the highway in front is this very interesting building. The steps up to the white doors were sort of blocked off. I'm not sure if this building is still in use. Next door was an equally old looking Fines Creek Public Library.



Back on top of the mountain this fine new building has gotten the rafters in place for the roof for the back stoop. Now it just needs the purlins and it will be ready for roofing.



We are all lucky to still live in a nation were we have the opportunity to change things if we see fit.

Know Hope.

Golden Twilight Of The Oaks

Resistant to the early snow and deep freeze that left the maple leaves crispy and browning, the oaks glow into their prime.



A golden light of hope precedes the darkness, before a new day dawns.



The setting sun hides behind the forest trees now. A thin slice through the canopy was deemed sufficient for a view. The actual reality of living in the forest is more important then looking at the forest in the distance.



How much sky do you really need?



When there is enough to be able to see an entire flock of UFOs

Moody Blues

Next Come The Purlins

Recently planted Autumn Crocus or Colchicum perhaps, are making a small show in the ridge top garden. Another season of bulbs can always be packed into the garden. I think we need to try some others like Rhodophiala bifida, the Oxblood Lily, Lycoris and Zephyranthes. There could be bulbs in every season.



The baby spotlets recover from a milk coma. They are getting less skittish and it is much easier to catch them for some cuddle time. They eat dry kitten chow, drink water from a bowl and hunt now, or at least play with the offerings mama Spot brings them. They spend a good deal of time on the roof of their cozy insulated, cardboard box, cat house.

Spotlet #1 may have a name. He is the brown tabby and has a mole above his lip just like Cindy Crawford. So I might call him Cindy or I might call him Crawford. Spotlet #2, a girl I think, is patterned a bit like a skunk. Stinky? Needs more work.



Next come the purlins for the roof for the front porch. These are horizontal 2x4's that go over the main rafters spaced two feet apart. The purlins are what the metal roof will actually be attached to.



There were a lot of fancy angle cuts involved. The main roof of the house was easier than this, thank goodness. This roof will just be the metal on top of the framing with the wood work underneath and the metal that shows through exposed. It will be painted of course. This should give me the real sound of rain on a tin roof unlike the main plywood sheathed, insulated and covered roof framing inside the house.



Nice profile, eh, like its own mountain range? A bonsai house.



The gardens to be are getting the natural mulch covering for the winter. It will be interesting to see what comes up in the spring. I refused the offer of grass seed which surprised the septic system man. I know that nature has a bountiful seed bank in this soil and plenty of tough perennials that will come back just fine. I did not want to mess it up with grass.



Next spring a garden expands.

Betsy's House

She saw it coming out of the corner of her eye and ducked. His aim and delivery was predictable. A grunt preceded the windup. He bellowed as the tin plate went sailing across the kitchen. It bounced off the kitchen cupboards and clattered to the floor spilling food along its entire path. It was easier to just stand there and wait. He punched her less and it was over sooner if he didn’t have to chase her.

Your food is tasteless enough, he shouted. Why do I have to eat this crap off of bent metal saucers? You are the lousiest thing that has ever happened to me. The least you could do is cook decent food.

All the breakable dishes are gone, she quietly said.

He grabbed her arm hard and pulled her close enough to slap her twice hard across the face. Clean up this mess bitch. I’m going out to get me some supper. This place better be spotless when I get back.

It was always the same. It didn’t matter what she cooked, how she cooked it or what she served it on, he found fault, no matter what.

She was still a young women. They had only been married for nine years. Looking at the life that stretched ahead of her was unbearable. What had happened to him to make him turn so mean?

He came home late. Drunk. There is a box out in the wagon for you. I brought you something. Go get it, he slurred.

She didn’t need to go get it to know what it was. She put on her shawl and went out into the dark night. In the back of the wagon was a small box. It was heavy for a small package and clinked a little when she picked it up. She came inside and placed the box on the kitchen table and went to back to the book she was reading.

You didn’t open what I brought you. Open the box, damn it! I’m trying to be nice to you.

She got back up and went into the kitchen for a knife. She held it steady for a moment, grasped tightly in the palm of her hand. The twine around the box sliced instantly with the slightest pull of the sharp knife. Inside was a set of glazed clay dishes, four each of dinner plates, side plates and bowls. How many sets of new dishes had he brought home by now? She had lost count. The rubbish heap out back glittered with a colorful sea of shards.

Now maybe you can try and cook a decent supper for a change. I bought you some good dishes to use.

This was the last box of new dishes she was going to put up with. It was time to put an end to this. I’m going to bed, she said, not much louder than a whisper. Goodnight.

The PIA Porch Roof

Snow lingers on the shady side of the scenic highway. I am sure glad the resident gardeners picked the opposite side of the road some 35 years ago when they bought the land for the garden of their dreams. Every little bit of sun shine helps when it struggles to reach 50 degrees.



The sunny utility meadow is now froze and gone to seed. The trees and shrubs, their leaves green or in their fall color, have shown a mixed bag of reaction to the recent sub cool temperatures. It appears, as a passing observation, to be largely variable by species more than the fall preparedness of the leaves. Some things froze. Some things didn't.



The roof for the front porch has been obstinate in revealing itself. All those complex angles have been difficult to coax out of the lumber in a cold wind with cold fingers. Today it relented and began to move at a pace to show some progress. The steps for the porch will come in on the side. Another little detail to deal with.



Off in the distance on a hillside protected from the gale force winds of winter storms, a touch of fall hangs in. Last weekend was probably peak time for leaf peeping. The wind and the snow at the beginning of the week has brought us to the other side.



The asian greens, lettuce, beets, radish-that are too far gone, sugar snap peas-that refused to climb and the turnips look just fine. Hiding in the ground are more bags of potatoes.



A fall vegetable garden survives the first onslaught of winter right out there in the open. I think this would qualify as extending the gardening season just a bit.

Finally Frozen

I'd have to say the gardening season is officially over.



What wasn't frozen is. What takes time to freeze will be frozen.



The weather diagnosis is for lows in the mid twenties for the next three days. It will be interesting to see how the beets, turnips, lettuce, sugar snap peas and asian greens fare. What will happen to the potatoes still in the ground? Will they get tastier or turn to mush? Soon I might even feel compelled to clean up the remnants of this years roadside vegetable garden and get it ready for another load of fresh from the trimmer's truck, wood chip mulch.



Another layer of insulation was added to the top of the Spot's abode. They seem oblivious to the cold and quite content. I spied spotlet #1 eating some kitten chow. It is time to take some of the stress of feeding off of Spot.



A pleasant two inches of snow fell from a cold and windy sky. It is visible as a snow covered mountain where there is no fall colored forest to hide it.



Now the wind can stop blowing and all will be well.

The First Winter Snow

Is Here.