This morning I woke up to COLD air, and frozen steps. It rained last night and then the temperature dropped. The leftover leaves from fall made their own heat and did not freeze. In making my rounds I found that gate latches stuck and hinges cracked on opening. Strange to see, that the metal fence rails and the arching rose canes all had what appeared to be raindrops hanging on them. A quick touch revealed that they were frozen in place! Perfect little droplets suspended like strings of diamonds.
Thankfully, the water buckets had only a light layer of ice over the top, and I was relieved to find that in the chicken run there was no ice at all! I recently ordered a new, galvanized, two gallon, water font to replace the old and leaking five gallon one. It is sitting on its warmer and the water is staying drinkable. This is good timing as the weatherman said we will be down into the 20s for the next three mornings.
Next stop was the Goose Chalet, where I found that the rain had frozen the metal latch shut and it took a bit of effort to gain entry. While I worked, the girls and Frellnick fussed impatiently to get out.
Just looked out my window to see that the sun has made an appearance! I hope it stays out today as I am tired of the cloud cover and gloom of late.
First Known Use: 1605 ~ This correct definition is from Merriam Webster and can be found HERE
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Once when I was seven we lived in an unincorporated little suburb of Southern California. Somewhere in the middle between Pomona, Montclair and Chino if I recall correctly. The little two bedroom house on Kadota Street was surrounded by cows and cattle fence. Smaller even than our current Farmlet, it was our family’s little bit of heaven on one-quarter acre.
I had a few friends, but being a bit of a Tomboy back then I really rather favored the friendship of a little blond-headed boy named Johnny. We use to walk the pastures, build forts, climb trees, and play in the hayloft. We loved to spin tales and then act them out.
Because of our boyish friendship it came as quite a shock, when one day in the hayloft Johnny tried to kiss me! On the lips! He leaned in, and I defensively crossed my arms over my chest between us,
and then pushed him away…
hard.
He went flying back and over the edge of the hayloft. Crawling to the edge and looking down, I could see him laying there, on his back, and underneath the cow. He was looking shocked and shouting up to me he exclaimed,
“Well, what’d ya do that for?”
I told him, “Kissing was for grown-ups”, then climbed down the ladder and ran for home.
Over the next few weeks I avoided Johnny at school. So it was a complete surprise to find him waiting for me on my way home one day. He was angry and trying to pick a fight! I wasn’t having any of that, so I crossed the street and tried to walk on by, but he caught up to me, grabbed my arm, and hit me!
Of course I got really mad and lit into him, punching him right back, until he cried and ran off for home. When I got home I said nothing to my parents, because I didn’t want to get in trouble for fighting.
Later that day, his dad came to the door with him in tow. His dad wanted to speak to my dad. The conversation went something like this as I recall,
J’s dad: Your son beat up my son and gave him this black eye!
My dad: I don’t see how that is possible… (he was cut off)
J’s dad: You’re calling my son a liar?
My dad: I have two son’s. On is two, and the other is in a cast over there in the living room, and he can’t even walk!
J’s dad to J:You told me he beat you up? What’s going on!
J: No daddy, not him, her!
J’s dad: You let a GIRL do this to you? (smack) Get along home!
Poor Johnny!
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Johnny and I never were friendly after that day in the hayloft, and he never tried to fight me again either. 😉
Of note, a favorite song of mine from about that time was Perry Como’s Catch a Falling Star. I used to sing the refrain all the time, because it was catchy and I liked the idea.
“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day…”
However, the whole song has a line in there that may have given Johnny the wrong idea? Who can say? 😀
On Thanksgiving we had goose. Yes, I finally did it. We were thankful for food on the table.
Our plan was to put it in the smoker and 6 to 7 hours later have a wonderful savory feast. Our plans were interrupted when Bob found a starving and dehydrated opossum trapped in the smoker. We haven’t a clue how long he had been in there.
Apparently, having gotten in through the little adjustable air vent on the firebox, he then got into the smoking chamber. In doing so, he dislodged the small grate and trapped himself. (We walked away and gave him a chance to get out. When we came back he was gone.)
Weak and filthy with soot, we are certain he was thankful too.
Having no time to pressure wash the smoker and disinfect it I had to go to plan B. Roasting the goose in the oven. I hate doing that because of all the greasy mess and smoke, but I tried it a different way! Dragging down the big, blue, enamel, roasting pan that once belonged to Bob’s mother, I put the goose in, put the lid on, and Voila! No greasy smoking mess! I am thankful. 😉
Bob came in later in the afternoon and smelled the goose in the oven…
Oh man, this smells so good! I’m glad we had to prepare the goose in the oven because it smells like the holidays when I was a kid!
He was thankful for the memories of holiday gatherings and his family.
Fast forward to yesterday…
Which found us at the Mountain Farmlet and working feverishly. Bob was inside doing demo, and I was outside moving and storing the (possibly) useable planks of lumber from the demo. In between I finished cleaning out the sheds, and then went walkabout in the woods.
I took myself directly to the bridge to look at the creek. The creek and the bridge define the southernmost tip of our property. While I was there, the neighbor lady came over and introduced herself. We talked for almost an hour and got to know quite a bit about each other. She seems so nice, and I look forward to being up there full time and having her as a friend.
We have a ‘date’, she and I, to go down into the creek bed and explore, “when it isn’t too hot and there won’t be snakes.” She’s never been down to the creek! We have to do this, and when we go I will make sure she won’t have to go bush-whacking like I did to get there. There was lots of *saw vine. YIKES! No wonder she’s never been down to see it! 😀
I went down and followed the creek for quite a ways in both directions. It was lovely. Here is what I found…
I followed the water
down the sluice
to the bridge.
Decending the limestone steps
I found its essence, slowly leaking from between the layers of time, had frozen in the cold.
Later, I went into the woods and forging off of our trail this is what I found. If you are not Lori of Day by Day the Farmgirl Way you may not appreciate the significance of these last photos. 😉
Evidence of life
The leaf filled trail starts here going down the back of the pond’s berm…
and continues through the grasses and over to the right of the big pine.
Here is another deep in the woods. Looking from the bottom center follow it between the two pines in the distance, and just to the left of center
Skat.
A footprint in the mud. Do you know what’s been here?
I was told by the Octogenarian that the deer no longer come here. Well, they do! You just need to know the signs. Thank you for teaching me, Lori.
So thankful!
*NOTE: The locals call this plant Saw Vine, but it goes by Cat Briar, greenbrier vine, or its botanical name of Smilax bona-nox. To see where it grows look HERE.
Saw vine information can be linked to by clicking on its name above, but an awesome image of the plant can be found on Steven Schwartzman’sPortraits of Wildflowers by clicking HERE
Life on the Farmlet 