HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

A beautiful evening as the sun sets

Upon arising Sunday morning, I was dismayed to find we had no internet. For the first 50 years of my life, I got along fine without all this connectedness. Now, if the internet is down, it brings me down with it. It’s not just that it’s down but that I have to DO something about it. Eventually we learned that all service from Teakean Butte was down – the provider’s problem.

“Check every half hour or so to see if it’s back,” said Mike.

“You mean that I should quit checking every ten minutes,” I asked.

Evening light

Anyway, when it comes to this remote farm, some things are just magic, and having more or less reliable internet and television are two of them. And as basic as it sounds, running water is another. Grandma Ina never had plumbing or electricity, and so those activities that involve water – and we all have those – were especially difficult in winter. Did she think it was difficult? Yes, I think she did, especially in winter. Winter was difficult on the farm – and still is. Managing the plumbing just brings different problems.

Ina, my fact-as-fiction grandmother, was with me during this stay at the farm. She was glad to see me and anxious to discuss plans for this year’s Christmas advent blog. (It’s coming right up, you know. Time is flying.) She suggests keeping it simple – daily posts focused mostly on Christmas past using quotes, cards, recipes, poems, etc. I agreed, and as usual, she leaves it to me to organize it as I like.

It was warmer at the farm this morning – just 32. Mike found a fix for the wall furnace yesterday, and it still worked this morning. It’s great to have a little quick heat in the dining room. And as I sat looking out the dining room window while sipping my hot chocolate, I watched as jets made trails in the eastern sky. I had never seen this activity before. Was it practice drills?

Ghost riders in the sky?

Now it’s going to warm up and rain, so we’re back in town, satisfied that we accomplished quite a lot over the weekend. KW

THE FROST IS ON THE PUMPKINS

We have been away from the farm for a month, and it feels so good to be back. The trip up the Clearwater was beautiful, and I was glad to be traveling along with Mike, and he was driving.

Brother Chuck predicted that this warm autumn would turn cold suddenly, and he was right. It’s just so hard to believe that Monday afternoon was unseasonably warm and by Friday, we were having a cold snap! Lows will be around 20 here at the farm. (24 this morning.)

Our initial plan was to dash to the farm and winterize the house. Then Mike suggested that we wait and spend the weekend here to keep the house warm. We just hate to winterize this early, especially since after this three- to four-day cold snap, the forecast shows warmer weather for the foreseeable future. I appreciate Mike’s willingness to be here while it’s cold because the work of keeping the house warm falls to him, and the cold is hard on him.

As Mike was lighting the fireplace, he removed the carcass of a flicker. We didn’t weep over that. The flickers do a lot of damage. No sign of mice.

Note strawberry blossom and green berries

I picked many ripe tomatoes. I will probably stew them. I found a cup of ripe strawberries and plenty of largish green ones as well as blossoms! Obviously, they aren’t going to produce any longer. I guess I should just trim off the blooms and put the plants to bed for the winter. I have never had this situation before.

We still have plenty of supplies on hand, and we didn’t forget to bring anything. But I was dismayed to discover that apparently my cheap little mittens have all drifted back to town. Mike found some glove liners I can use, and I think I have some real gloves somewhere, but when it comes to the gardening, sometimes bare hands work best anyway. And I sorta wish I had thought to bring my long underwear.

Mike and Bess scouted for elderberries yesterday and found none. Too bad – no new jelly this year. For one reason or another – and maybe some laziness – I missed the country berry seasons. However, one can always make jelly somehow.

I happened to think that I forgot to get out the Halloween quilt I made some years back. I love those vintage prints! But these October days were so warm that I just didn’t think of it. I was also preoccupied in making this Halloween table topper with machine embroidery designs from Advanced Embroidery. It was labor-intensive – 1) the embroidery; 2) the quilting, which I did with a specialty stitch; and 3) mitering eight odd-angle corners. I read and reread a lot of tutorials since my object was to learn. (I also stitched and restitched.) KW  

“GRANNY CLAMPETT” I AM NOT

Mike at Skinner Canyon

Can you believe it?! Two days ago, our high temps were still in the 70s. Today, it’s a chilly 46, and we have an overnight winter weather advisory. We had first fire of the season in our little stove last night, and today we brought in the space heaters for our rooms. 

Monday (Oct. 23), Mike had to replace a geocache in a remote location, so he took his gun and his dog – just in case – and they returned with some birds. After being unable to hunt for the first three weeks of this month, I was pleased for his success.

Steep

I was not so pleased when he told me that as he was leaving the area, he ran over a squirrel. It seemed wasteful to leave it, he said, so he picked it up and brought it home. I was less than impressed, but that old southern boy wanted squirrel for supper. I have dealt with rabbit in the past but never squirrel. I didn’t know how to fix it, and what’s more, I didn’t want to. It was terrible – altogether the worst meal I have prepared in years. I just don’t have the knack of preparing vittles. I pray he doesn’t come home with a ‘possum.

Bess waiting patiently

Tuesday afternoon, with rain in the forecast, Mike decided to hike an area known as Skinner Canyon with the goal of picking up some geocaches. Bess and I went along to keep him company. I thought the hike was difficult. Descending is as dangerous as ascending – perhaps more so. Mike does it with an alacrity developed since youth. My feet are short but seem to tangle with each other and stumble over anything and nothing. And I kept thinking that what goes down must eventually go back up, and of course, that was the case. At any rate, it was wonderful that Mike felt like going.

Sometimes the caches aren’t easy to find. “Well, let’s go,” said Mike after hunting five minutes at one cache site, but as I turned to leave, I noticed the soil around a sagebrush was well trampled. “Wait a minute,” I said; “others have looked here.” Sure enough! Mike spotted the cache and logged it.

The stickery place

A cache in a hole

At another cache site full of branches and stickery things, he hunted diligently while I stood back. I finally climbed in to help, but we weren’t successful. “Well, let’s go,” said Mike. And just then a certain tree caught my eye. As I stepped aside to examine it, Mike spied the cache – not in that tree but the one beside it.

[Granny’s name on the Beverly Hillbillies was Daisy May Moses, but if I had called her "Granny Moses," I doubt you would know to whom I refer. She was Jed Clampett’s mother-in-law, not his mother. Mostly they just called her “Granny.”]

BACK TO BUSINESS AS USUAL

Our purple ash, taken Oct. 16 . . .

Mike endured a nearly 3-week spell of excruciating hip/back pain that prevented him from sitting or walking. He visited the pain clinic early on, but because a real doctor was unavailable and he can’t tolerate high-powered pain meds, he was out of luck for immediate relief. 

. . . and our purple ash today.

With him stretched out on the floor and standing to eat, we felt we were facing an uncertain future. I noticed gradual improvement until Monday (Oct. 16) when he got up and pulled on his jeans, joined Bess and me for our walks, and worked in his shop. Unfortunately, this improvement occurred after our visit with family in Spokane.

The maple just begins to show color.

He finally saw the doctor Wednesday (Oct. 18). The issue was deemed nerve inflammation. He received two injections and physical therapy was prescribed. He has a follow-up appointment in a month and instructions to call the clinic and request medication should this debilitating pain come upon him again. It’s time to limit lifting a bit, so the minute we were home from the pain clinic, Mike ordered an automatic garage door for his shop. It was installed Thursday afternoon. If only doctor’s appointments could be scheduled so efficiently.

Halloween is coming.

The doctor said he could pursue his usual activities, and Mike has been hard at it. Wednesday afternoon he rode his bicycle 20 miles. He has serviced all of his machines, rewired the new garage door opener through the shed loft, and even placed our Halloween characters (something we haven’t done in years). He and Ken hunted Friday and Saturday mornings – armed hikes, as Mike calls them. He rests by watching football.

The sad thing is that because he couldn’t get a doctor’s appointment until the 18th, he pretty much got over this on his own, tolerating the pain and doing the best he could. The worst was really over before he saw the doctor. KW

INTERNET SEARCH: IT’S ALL IN THE RIGHT WORDS

In a previous post (here), I wrote about Grandson Silas’ “lovey,” a flannel receiving blanket in a design called “Monkeys on Bikes.” I hemmed it for him before he was born. He calls it “Monkey,” and it has as much personality for him as a stuffed animal would. Monkey goes with him everywhere, so it gets lots of loving and even sees some abuse. Naturally, Monkey’s company is especially important in times of stress and upset and is sometimes the only thing that comforts him. Monkey is now a rag but just as willing a companion as ever.

Last spring, Hallie (Silas’ mother) became concerned that Monkey would not last “the duration” and asked if we could find more of that fabric to make a replacement. I was unsuccessful and instead I made a blanket from a different monkey design. Silas declined to make "New Monkey" his go-to lovey. 

During our stay in Spokane, Monkey got caught under an ill-fitting door, and Silas pulled him out causing a threadbare spot. He didn’t notice, but for Hallie, it was an “oh no!” moment. We again searched online for “Monkeys on Bikes” flannel.

“We just need to find the person who is hoarding three yards of this fabric and willing to part with some of it for a price,” I said to Hallie. I’m well aware that this happens. If there isn't an online fabric swap, perhaps there should be.

So, after Mike and I left the family in Spokane, they went to JoAnn’s to see if they could find “Monkeys on Bikes” or at least some information. A joyful Hallie later messaged that when Nick learned the fabric was called “snuggle flannel,” he searched “Monkey snuggle flannel” on eBay, and an offering for “Monkeys on Bikes” came right up. She immediately ordered the piece – a yard and a half for $17. Frankly, I didn’t think that was a bad price for an out-of-stock design, especially when nothing else will do.

Silas wrapped in the Grinch towel

And Hallie added that while they were at JoAnn’s, Silas saw a truck ornament, so they had to leave, the implication being that he threw a tantrum as two-year-olds are wont to do when they don't get their way. Leaving was the right move, but I couldn’t help but think about all the times I’ve been in JoAnn’s while a child behaved obnoxiously. I prefer peace and quiet as I shop, but I understand and take it in stride. In fact, just last week, I overheard one mother of a noisy child say to her companion, “I’ll just come back by myself next week,” to which the companion responded, “No, we’re here now.” Sigh!

Hallie eagerly awaits the arrival of the flannel so that she can make “New Monkey.” I’m anxious to know if Silas accepts this “New Monkey.” I wonder if it’s the print or the feel of it that makes the difference to him. Hallie says if she has to wash it a hundred times to make it acceptable, that’s what she’ll do. KW

A WONDERFUL WEEKEND

Mike and I are just back from two days in Spokane where we met daughter Hallie and her family (husband Nick, their son Silas, and dog Primo). We were also joined by son Murray to celebrate Silas’ second birthday. We stayed at an Airbnb.

It was wonderful to be together, but the stay did have some problems. While Mike is getting better, he still can’t sit, so I did the driving while he stretched out in the back of the Jeep with Bess, his phone, and a good book. Once at our destination, he was again stretched out on the floor most of the time. Bess was needier than usual and just wouldn’t settle down. Primo has a wound on his side and must wear a cone over his head, making it difficult for him to navigate in confined quarters – or for us to navigate around him.

Hallie and family have had experience with Airbnb, and I guess most of them are quality units. This was not one of those. It was okay, but for Hallie and Nick, who have spent the last ten years or so remodeling a small 1929 Tudor with an eye to quality, this house (a duplex) was shoddy. The neighborhood was also depressed.

But – we made the best of it and had a good time. Saturday morning Hallie baked Silas’ birthday cake, and at noon, we gathered round to sing “Happy Birthday,” watch him open his presents, and eat cake. Of all his gifts, including a set of big blocks in a carrying case, Silas’ favorite was the set of “Cat” construction machines that decorated his cake. He also enjoyed playing with the handles on a chest of drawers and running a penny in a groove on the coffee table. Who needs toys?

Grandpa Mike & Silas - matching shirts

Saturday evening, Hallie and Nick left to attend a co-ed baby shower – the reason for the trip to Spokane in the first place – leaving Gramma Kathy in charge. Hah! Silas was in charge. “What will Mommy say when she comes back and you’re still up,” I asked. “You’re getting me into trouble.” He just grinned. But after all, I see him so seldom, and I was happy enough to have the time with him.

Another highlight was a visit to Riverfront Park where Silas enjoyed playing on the big red wagon. He’s somewhat fearless and loves tumbling around, but his first trip down the slide on his own scared us all. Thereafter, he was happy enough to slide with Hallie or Nick, but he kept sliding.

Mike and I returned home Sunday afternoon. Murray, who had returned to town Saturday afternoon, prepared a delicious dinner of stuffed green peppers for us. KW

SUMMER’S LAST HURRAH?

Purple Ash Tree

Brother Chuck, one of my loyal readers, calls me every Sunday afternoon, and since we always compare notes on the weather, I made sure that I was ready with our temps and the forecast. But today he and his wife were hunting for her purse. We were distracted and didn’t discuss the weather, so I’ll provide the update here.

Aphids on ash tree

The afternoons have been unseasonably warm – in the mid-80s! I’m wearing my summer pajamas again. And the “October bugs” (dusky ash aphids) are out in force, making the afternoon walk uncomfortable. The aphids swarm badly on our lot, probably because of the purple ash tree where the aphids lay their eggs.

But according to the weather forecast, tomorrow will be our last hot day. Tuesday it will rain and thereafter the highs will be in the 60s in the foreseeable future.

Mike is struggling with back issues, which drastically curtail his activities. Fortunately, he’s (mostly) comfortable lying down, though the process of getting onto the mattress is a trial. A trip to the pain clinic ten days ago resulted in no immediate relief, but he is making some progress – slowly walking, carefully playing fetch with Bess, doing for himself as much as he can. Thanks to his efforts, the MRI was scheduled for Friday (Oct. 6), but he doesn’t see the doctor until Oct. 18. All plans are on hold. We’ll just be flexible and hope for the best.

As I sat in a waiting room during Mike’s MRI, I couldn’t help but think of another visit to the same hospital on Oct. 6, 1979 – some 44 years ago. Yes, here we were in the hospital on Clint’s birthday. At that time (1979), a friend remarked, “What a lovely time of year to have a baby.” For some reason, that comment stays with me perhaps because lovely as the days were, winter would soon be upon us. KW

PRETENDING THE OLD IS NEW

Purple Ash

My friend Chris and I recently discussed the possibility of trading our old (but not so very old) Bernina sewing machines for newer models. I went so far as to check into the deal with the local shop, but the owner encouraged me not to trade, extolling various features of my Artista 630 that still compete well with the new line. “Why would you trade it,” he asked. “Is there an issue? Bring it in for service.”

And so, I had the 630 serviced, and she was pronounced in good health. I was fine with keeping her but disappointed nevertheless.

That’s when Chris said, “I’m going to pretend my machine is brand new. I’m going to read the manual and relearn all about what this machine does.” And then she rediscovered the “Machine Mastery” course, and I found my copy from years ago in my sewing cupboard. So, even though Chris is at her house and I’m at mine, I adopted her plan. I admit I should know more about the features of my 630.

Meanwhile, Chris made some beautiful machine embroidered pillow tops for Christmas, and I finished the “Peanuts” quilt. It’s always good to finish what one starts, even if it was 10+ years ago. I stored other projects in progress while I study to master my machine. KW