~
Thursday, November 30, 2006 8:00 a.m.
55 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
It is hard to believe that it is almost December,
although by the time that month
officially arrives I think it will be more believable. I
picked pansies yesterday, beautiful
golden blossoms that have filled the front flower bed in
a last ditch growth spurt. Ladybugs
and houseflies gathered on the sunporch windows in a buzz
of high noon activity, awakened
from their torpor by the warmth of the day, so sultry we
opened the sashes to the breeze. Insects
buzzed around our hard hats as we worked at cutting
firewood, and moths fluttered off into the
sunset, possibly more than a little confused as to where
the nectar-filled spring blossoms were.
A three-quarter moon traveled the dome of the sky while
we worked, rising just after lunchtime
and presiding over the purple hour with all the glow of a
full moon. Coyotes raised their voices
for a long howl as the day transitioned to night, a huge
pack not too far away. They sang later
in the night as well, on the hunt up the gorge,
stereophonic from left to right as sharply defined
as if I were listening through headphones. We had stepped
out to admire the stars while the
dog went about his business, and the night’s
entertainment was pretty darned spectacular.
By the time this moon is full, we should be able to see
it reflected off of newfallen snow !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 29, 2006 8:30 a.m.
46 degrees, breezy, thin clouds
It is almost sunny; with a little encouragement
and appreciation from us earthbound
humans maybe we can coax a few sunbeams out, sort of like
clapping for Tinkerbelle.
Maybe a few rousing choruses of You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine are in order.
At any rate, it is a lovely morning with the filtered
light of late November softly burnishing
the bare trees and dried weeds. I love releasing downy
puffs of fluff from milkweed pods
as we walk around the meadows, recalling all of the
stages of that complex plant, from the
first tender shoots that are so delicious sautéed in
butter, to the fragrant sweet blossoms that
perfume our hot August nights, and the thousands of
monarch butterfly chrysalises that hang
suspended from the stalks like christmas ornaments late
in the summer. And now, the white
seedheads that float away with a gentle breath from the
breeze or our own pursed lips to
launch them, a preview of the colder flurry that will
soon be swirling across the Hill.
Have a lovely day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 28, 2006 8:30 a.m.
48 degrees, calm, foggy
Some gentle rain fell for a short time early last night,
then the fog rolled in.
Not one twig is stirring on this unusually calm morning.
Birds are scarce, and
the only movement outside so far has been that of folks
on the way to work or
school, no traffic coming up the hill at all. Smoke
barely rises from our chimney,
hanging in a sweet cloud that wreaths the house, rich
with the fragrance of yellow
birch, my favorite aromatic wood. I will often save out a
piece of birch just for times
when we are working in the yard, so we can enjoy not only
the wood’s heat indoors
but its spicy airborne puffs as well. We have a couple
more mild days before Old
Man Winter will drop in for the weekend to say howdy.
Enjoy yourself,
no matter what the weather,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 27, 2006 8:30 a.m.
47 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
Only a little bit of blue sky shows through the clouds,
but they are mostly high and thin
and not much of a threat. The horizon still glows pink
from a lovely sunrise and the land is
brushed with its subtle glow. This is a perfect November
morning, filled with subtle diffused
light and busy birds of various kinds flitting, floating,
flapping, whistling warbling, and cackling
as they move in and out of the view. A solitary marsh
hawk has been working the west meadow
for a few days, late in heading south as most of that
species are gone by the end of October. We
have never had a marsh hawk hang around all winter long;
maybe this one will be an exception. We
have been culling trees from around our dry pond site,
and several bottles have heaved up from an
old farm dump, making the work seem a little like a
treasure hunt. I have baskets of old jars and
bottles collected over the years, probably of no real
value except as a junky journal of the folks
who lived here before we did. What kinds of medicinal and
culinary items were common ? White
glass cold cream jars and whiskey bottles tell one tale,
rusted baby powder cans and old brown
Clorox bottles another. Rare blue glass from once-common
Vicks Vaporub or Bromo-seltzer
jars, bits of flow-blue china, never an entire plate,
just a corner or two that broke off, where
is the rest of it? Now that things are sent off to be
recycled, what bits and pieces of our lives
will we leave for future generations to dig up? The
modern day waste transfer station spells
the end of an era; no more artifacts of daily living are
carelessly discarded at the edge of the
property. All that we discard is recycled into more cheap
plastic doodads, made into dis-
posable paper products, or crushed and added to highway
composite. It is good to
recycle, but future archeologists won’t have much to
look forward to.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 26, 2006 8:30 a.m.
48 degrees, calm, partly sunny
A mass of clouds hangs in multiple layers of varying
density and shades of grey that
run the gamut from shiny silver to deep soot. This made
for a very colorful sunrise, and
there is still a hint of peach hovering above the eastern
horizon. Temperatures are expected
to rise into the fifties later, and if the breeze comes
from the south instead of the north, it may
seem more like April than November. We dug some parsnips
yesterday, the creamy white flesh
made sweeter by several frosts and releasing its pungent
perfume to the peeler. We left half of the
crop in the ground, so this one vegetable is reminiscent
of three seasons as we enjoy it sautéed with
garlic, roasted with apples, or sliced into hearty
venison stew. There is still parsley in the garden as
fresh and green as it was in August; this is the only
crop that deer have left alone. Everything else
has been either munched right down to the ground, or
nibbled away until there is nothing left but
thick indigestible stalks. Every ear of corn has been
chewed, and the pumpkins hollowed out
into thin shells, strewn crazily on a muddy beach. Our
own stash of garden goodies is safe in
the cellar, in jars, bins and freezers, and we don’t
really begrudge the wildlife all the leftovers.
Our harvest is over, and we are ready to settle in for
the winter.
We are indeed fortunate,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 25, 2006 9:00 a.m.
48 degrees, breezy, sunny
What an awesome day ! An early morning choir of starlings
were at full volume
from atop the big maple tree by the barn, for once all
singing pretty much the same
tune. I hope they stay all winter; some frozen snowy
mornings they are the only ray of
sunshine in the whole neighborhood. They have dispersed
for now and their spot taken
over by crows and bluejays, equally vocal but less
musically inclined. We took advantage
of yesterday’s fine weather to work on the cross-country
trails in our woodlot. We thought
they were all ready for winter use, but last week’s
surprise windstorm toppled several big spruce
trees right onto the path. We also dropped a couple of
cherry trees for firewood while we were at
it, gnarly twisty trunks that wouldn’t make very
good lumber twenty years down the road. Our wood
is all in for this winter, and next year’s is
stacked at the edge of the woods, so now we are whacking
up fuel for the winter of 2008-09. It is pleasant work,
sawdust flying and lightly covering parts of the
trail, a preview of the fat snowflakes that will soon
make an appearance. We had to reroute one of
the main legs of the course, as it was easier than
removing two gianormous spruces that fell in a
perfect X. it will make a good safe haven for wildlife
during winter’s blustery days, and every
time we ski past the trunks and limbs akimbo we will no
doubt see signs of life. Often our
most important lessons are found in our daily tasks; if
the path can’t be made straight,
at least it can be made more interesting. Discuss...
Have an interesting day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 24, 2006 8:30 a.m.
38 degrees. breezy, sunny
Another beautiful sun-filled morning, three in a row !
Broadcast network news is all
about people who waited in line for several hours in
order to enter a store before dawn
with hundreds of others to save a few bucks on the latest
electronic gadget or must-have toy.
Which by the way, used to be a ten dollar Etch-a-Sketch
or a two buck hula hoop, and now
seems to be a video game system that costs a week’s
pay. Don’t get me wrong; I like modern
technology, but to sit with my lifemate sharing a
fragrant pot of coffee and watch deer, birds, and
our handsome sleek cats romping through a sunlit meadow
is something that has no dollar value.
The breaking news should be chestnut-hued does stroll
slowly, barely disturbing the motes
of dust that diffuse the stunning early sunglow of Gomer
Hill... I can always shop for bargains
on a rainy day when the crowds will be a little less
daunting. If anything, we may drive a few miles
south later into Boonville for the local sidewalk stroll
and Christmas parade, with Santa and all his
friends arriving in the little village square. Come to
think of it, one can buy just about anything in
a local privately-owned shop, especially in a community
with such diverse offerings as Boonville.
Pay a visit to a nearby small town before heading off to
the mall; you won’t regret it, I am sure.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 23, 2006 7:30 a.m.
28 degrees, calm, partly sunny
It was such a treat to experience a normal November day
yesterday that it was hard to
get any indoor work accomplished. Fortunately the day was
free of appointments or work-
related obligations, so we alternated between mopping
floors and cutting firewood, prepping
squash and pruning grapevines, hanging laundry and
folding it into sweet-scented stacks later.
There was plenty of time left over for a late afternoon
stroll on a nearby dirt road, filled with
iced-over puddles and deep crunchy deer tracks. We saw
many blue jays and woodpeckers,
fluttery flashes of bright blue and crimson in the
defoliated forest alerting us to their presence.
The roadside is littered with what looks like discarded
christmas trees, a puzzle until we looked
up; they had broken off in last week’s mighty wind,
the tops of dozens of tall balsams looking
quite festive with their dusting of sparkling white snow.
We ambled on home with a beautiful
sunset at our backs, our shadows cast so huge before us
that they looked like they belonged
to aliens. Every little pebble and chunk of ice underfoot
cast foot-long shadows before them,
striping the dirt road in a crisp black and tan
hallucinogenic pattern that was difficult to gaze
at for very long. The rosy colors of sunset lasted a long
time, slowly morphing into the deep
purples and mauves of a star-filled twilight. We enjoyed
a spectacular sunrise today, and
the clouds that reflected the first early rays have hung
around; they have captured the
peach and magenta hues so thoroughly that they seem
reluctant to give them up.
It is a beautiful start to a special day; there is much
to be thankful for.
Have a great and grateful day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 22, 2006 9:30 a.m.
36 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
It has been a while since I have had to drop the curtain
against morning sunshine, and
although I lose the beautiful view of a frost-filled
valley shimmering in the still bright air,
it’s either that or don a welder’s helmet. We
have already been outdoors several times,
the dog sniffing at the ground to see what mysterious
beasts have dared to intrude on his
territory, and I to hang laundry out with popsicle
fingers. My mother-in-law kept a pair of
white cotton gloves (like we used to wear to church back
in the day) right in her clothespin
basket, and they do serve to keep the hands dry through
the first load of wet wash, but
then they become so wet that they freeze stiff and that
adds clumsiness to discomfort
and cussing to birdsong. I will merely wait an hour or
two for the sun to warm things
up a bit, and continue the task. Patience will often
provide what gloves will not.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 21, 2006 8:30 a.m.
28 degrees, calm, cloudy
It is cold but the wind is gone for now, so when the sun
eventually comes out
(as promised) it will be quite pleasant outdoors. As deer
hunting season winds
down, we must still remember to don bright orange
clothing and make plenty of
noise when we walk the back roads. December third is the
final date for our district,
and I notice every year that the hunting traffic on Tug
Hill increases dramatically the
last two weeks of the season, as men and women
strive to get that buck for the freezer.
The herd needs some serious thinning this year, as damage
to home gardens is on the rise
and deer-car collisions are more frequent than ever. It
is far more humane to end the life
of a deer quickly with a well-placed rifle shot than to
allow them to slowly starve to death
over the course of a long and difficult winter. Like it
or not, when humans first cleared this
beautiful land for habitation and thus took away natural
habitat for wild critters, that put us
smack in the middle of their natural life cycle. For
those that believe hunting to be a brutal
and unnecessary sport, the consequences of allowing deer
to overpopulate an area can
have a direct effect on other species of animals as well
as vegetation. Please check
out this link to see how the delicate
balance can be upset. Responsible deer herd
management begins at home. Deck yourself out in blaze
orange,
and have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 20, 2006 9:00 a.m.
26 degrees, breezy, partly sunny, flurries
A few snowflakes are doing a little dance as a playful
breeze calls the tune.
Sunrise was very colorful, and gave us some hope that
maybe the gloomy spell
of weather is a thing of the past. Indeed, it looks like
the sun might actually come
out for several days, raising spirits and bringing the
silvery gleam back to November.
It snowed all day yesterday, but the ground is so
saturated with rainwater that the flakes
didn’t stick much, they just soaked in and
disappeared. There is about an inch of snow
on the cars that were left outside, and now that the
temperature has dropped there is
a bit of snow clinging to the asphalt as well. This week
can be busy and somewhat
frantic as the traditional holiday season kicks off; give
yourself permission to do
things the easy way of you get find yourself becoming
stressed. Three kinds of
pie: hard. Premium french vanilla frozen yogurt, hot
fudge, and whipped cream:
easy. Think of the time you will save; you can bake pies
some boring day in
early December, and make pie the star of the meal instead
of the dessert.
Pie for breakfast: priceless !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 19, 2006 8:00 a.m.
28 degrees, calm, overcast, foggy, flurries
It was an excellent night for sleeping and a poor one for
stargazing. I arose
twice to look outdoors and check if the sky had cleared
enough to allow for
even a little peek at the Leonid meteor showers, but it
was just not in last night’s
cards. There will be another chance to see the tail end
of the event tonight, but last
night the viewing was to be the best in terms of sheer
quantity of meteors. Coyotes
were out and about all night long, and yesterday we saw
lots of signs of their travels
on the meadow paths, doglike scat and piles of chestnut
and black feathers, the remains
of several unlucky wild turkeys. Looks like Thanksgiving
has come a little early for our
wild canine friends. We awoke to a very thin coating of
snow brightening the landscape,
and tiny flurries are slowly drifting through the still
air at a leisurely pace. There is barely
enough snowcover to show animal tracks; it will be a good
test of our skill to get out
and see what we can deduce from the faint marks that must
certainly stud the trails.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 18, 2006 7:00 a.m.
31 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
I don’t know what kind of a day folks had on Tug
Hill yesterday, but it was
gorgeous in the Mohawk Valley. The sun came out many
times in between light
rain showers, and the combination of big dark storm
clouds and brilliant sunshine
was very nice indeed. There is more water on the ground
than you can imagine, with
all streams and even the Mohawk River overflowing their
banks. Fields and low meadows
are mostly under water, and nearly every house on the
main street of Little Falls had a hose
running from the cellar to the curb, pumping out the
cellars. It looks like today might be a dry
one for a change, and if anything does fall from the sky
it is cold enough to be snow, not rain.
That would be a nice change. The annual Leonid meteor
shower will pass overhead tonight,
with the best viewing after midnight, if we can manage to
clear some room in the sky. There
is no moonglow to interfere with the viewing, so let’s
hope for some breaks in the clouds
so we can enjoy the show. For more information, visit this link.
Keep looking up,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 17, 2006 8:30 a.m.
45 degrees, windy, overcast, sprinkles
Holy cow ! I don’t know what took place during the
two hours I was at
work late yesterday afternoon, but the drive home was
littered with branches
and debris, as if a whirlwind had passed through my neck
of the woods. Rain was
falling in sheets, and driving was tricky enough without
having to slalom around tree
limbs and trash. Patches of fog made the trip even more
exciting, as did several %$#&
idiots who felt free to pass blind at a high rate of
speed. It was sweet relief to finally pull
into the yard, where the first step out of the car found
me skidding out of control, propelled
eastward through the mire as if I were attached to a
parasail. Once safely indoors, we settled
in for a night of loud pounding torrents and gusty blasts
of wind, with the total amount of rain-
fall setting a new record for our area. Enough already!
Perhaps this will have been the final
hoorah of our rainy autumn; we can only hope. Imagine if
it had been cold enough for all
that rain to have been snow; the view would be entirely
different, for this morning at any
rate. On the upside, the road has been washed clean of
all the mud that local farm
vehicle tires have left from the farmers’ attempts
to harvest their corn. I have a
feeling that there will be plenty of fodder left standing
for birds and wildlife
during the winter, good news forthem but not for the cows.
Find something
to do indoors today, out of the wind,muck and mire that
dominates the day.
Stay dry and enjoy your day,
Daisy
Thursday, November 16, 2006 8:00 a.m.
51 degrees, breezy, overcast
Little bits and pieces of rain fell during the night, not
enough to drum on the roof or
beat against the windows, but the ditch across the road
is running pretty high anyway.
It has been a while since we saw a great sunrise here on
Gomer Hill, but it is nice to know
that the water tables are full to overflowing in the
event that this winter sees little in the way of
snowfall. When we get annoyed at the heavy rain totals
for the past few months, it is good to
recall the summers that we had to haul water to the
gardens, and neighbors came to our spring
to fill gallon jugs with pure water for drinking, as
their wells held scarcely enough for bathing and
cleaning up the dishes. It would be nice if every season
held just the right balance of sunshine and
rain, wind and calm, starshine and mist, but we must take
what we get and be grateful for all of it.
The fog and rain of the last ten straight days may be a
little disheartening, but I remember one sunny
morning stuck in the middle of that long stretch of gloom
that was like an extra special gift from a
beloved grandparent: unexpected and genuinely
appreciated, a great surprise. If we lived in a place
where the sun shone 95% of the time, would we appreciate
it as much if it were so commonplace?
We may not see the sun today, but the temperature is
going to be very mild, almost springlike.
Even if it is sprinkling, won’t it be a pleasure to
walk along in shorts and a thin jacket, face
turned skyward to feel the soft kiss of rainwater, Mother
Nature’s finest moisturizer ?
Enjoy the day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 15, 2006 9:00 a.m.
42 degrees, calm, foggy
"Little Prayer in November"
by Lee Rudolph,
from A Woman and a Man, Ice-Fishing.
That I am alive, I thank
no one in particular;
and yet am thankful, mostly,
although I frame no prayer but this one:
Creator
Spirit, as you have come, come
again,
even in November, on these short days,
fogbound.
~
Tuesday, November 14, 2006 8:00 a.m.
52 degrees, calm, overcast
It is a quiet morning and rather warm for this time of
year. Fog is lifting over the
valley and the rain has taken a break for a while.
Although there is 100% chance
of rain this morning, it is a good idea to take a walk
before the wind picks up and
the deluge begins. It won’t be long before we have
to put on all kinds of winter gear
to enjoy a little stroll. I’m not griping; I love
snow! This transition from autumn to winter
is often very subtle, with many false starts and snow
that comes and goes, like the last two
storms that seemed to be centered over our part of Tug
Hill. Every trace of snow has fled the
scene, eaten up by fog and dispersed by rain and sun.
Soon enough will come flurries that start
gently, but then pile up and stay until April, compressed
in wind-driven drifts and compacted
banks. Make sure your snow tires are in place, and there
is a bundle of spare hats, mittens,
and boots with warm socks tucked n the back seat of your
car, in case you get caught
in a blizzard in your Sunday shoes. Put some chocolate in
that pack as well; the
fat-calories will help keep you warm. The scouts have it
right; be prepared.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 13, 2006 7:30 a.m.
40 degrees, calm, foggy
Our normally expansive view stretches only as far as the
third maple tree down
the road on this foggy morning. There could be a huge
pack of coyotes sitting down
by the spring and we would never know it. A rare cougar
sighting might be missed because
of the mist, and even if you don’t believe they
exist, who’s to say that a sasquatch or two doesn’t
lurk just beyond the range of human vision, thus avoiding
detection and capture. One of the things
that makes a walk in the fog so interesting is the
mystery that is always just fifty years away, the
rustling of leaf and crack of a branch that is probably
just a squirrel but, with a little imagination,
can send a little thrill of fear down the spine of one
whose imagination is active. Of course, in this
neck of the woods, that rumble in the woods could
actually be fear-worthy, like a big cat stalking,
a rogue black bear, or a bull moose in rut who would just
as soon run over you as walk around.
Most wild critters will beat a hasty retreat at the first
sign of a human being, but a little caution
doesn’t hurt when walking blind, due to fog, snow,
or darkness. Make a little noise so you
don’t surprise anything. Talk to your dog, whistle a
happy tune, or sing a little fake opera
as you hike. And if you imagine that someone has joined
in on your second verse of
an improvised Wagnerian epic, rest assured that it is
only the voice in your head.
Either that, or a talented tuneful sasquatch...
Have an imaginative day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 12, 2006 8:00 a.m.
31 degrees, breezy, drizzle, fog
It is cold enough for the rain and fog to be freezing on
to surfaces, but for some reason it is not.
Perhaps the unfrozen ground is warming things up here at
the lowest level of the earth’s atmosphere.
The wind is playing with the fog, swirling it in cyclonic
poofs like the special effects on the stage at an
old Kiss concert. It rained really hard last night, that
and the fog made for some tricky driving conditions.
I would almost rather be on the road in a snowstorm than
in blinding fog with so much water on the road.
Two dozen turkeys are strolling across the low end of the
east meadow, taking their time as they hunt and
peck for breakfast among the hay stubbles. This is the
first time I have seen so many turkeys since the spring
mating season. I guess they stay in the forest and
puckerbrush for much of the summer, feeding on weed seeds
and berries, and beechnuts and apples in the fall. In
many parts of the state, there is a fall turkey season
which
lasts through November 17th. I would much rather dine on
a plump fall turkey that has fattened on the abun-
dance of summer than a spring turkey that has spent four
months picking through cow manure, which is
where we frequently see them during the winter months.
Meanwhile, I heard on the radio that there is
now shotgun pellets made from hardened herbs and spices,
so that any shot left in your wildfowl will
be edible, and not the usual tooth-breaking surprise. I
am not making this up: check this out.
Have a tasty day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 11, 2006 9:00 a.m.
48 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
This morning sunshine is a wonderful surprise, once again
making me
doubt every forecast I had heard for today. It seems like
weather predictions
should be getting more accurate in light of new
technology in the field of meteorology.
Instead, they are becoming much less reliable, as if the
gods are watching the forecasts
and then giving us the opposite, just to mess with us a
bit. Hey Zeus, look at those fools
with their outdoor wedding, too cheap to rent a tent!
Give them a little lightning
to shake them up, we’ll get some popcorn and watch...
For more information about
the weather gods of various cultures, visit here . Make up a little story of your
own. For
now, I’m happy my laundry is nearly dry, as I see
clouds rolling in from the southwest.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 10, 2006 8:00 a.m.
40 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
Wow, it got chilly overnight. If the sun doesn’t
make an appearance soon I can’t
imagine the temperature rising out of the forties at all
today. We will have to trade in
yesterday’s shorts and sandals for fleecier garb. Ah
well, that cloudy morning turned into
one spectacular sunny afternoon, with an otherworldly
light crisply defining every leaf and
blade that shimmered on the ground. We all got very muddy
as we walked an old farm lane
that has recently been traveled by loggers; a combination
of recent heavy rains and truck traffic
churned things up pretty good. There were too many deer
hoofprints in the soft lane to count,
and the sign of several coyotes overlaid the entire
path. The small muskrat pond had overflowed
its banks to encompass much of the road, which stopped
our trek a little short. We didn’t see
any waterfowl, frogs, or rats in the water; must be
everyone has packed it in for the season.
We did scare up a large buck who stared us down for a
short time before bounding over
the barbed wire fence with a graceful leap. A few crows
kept pace from tree to tree,
following us for a change. There seem to be more crows
around than usual for
this time of year; perhaps they will stick around for the
winter.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 9, 2006 8:00 a.m.
47 degrees, breezy, overcast
Fog comes right up to our boundary trees and smothers the
entire valley;
even the neighbor’s house is lost from view. Low
clouds may have been fog
earlier, but now they are merely clouds, hiding the sun
which nonetheless brightens
the morning from behind the thin veil. The outdoor air is
rich with moist smells, especially
from the gardens: rich damp soil, freshly spread chicken
manure, rotting leaves, beans that
have gone moldy. It is hard to believe that the reek of
autumn will help to sweeten up the fruits
and vegetables that will begin to fill our baskets in a
half a year’s time. Some very good things
start out as a total mess; ever make bread? Out of that
sticky glob of ingredients eventually comes
a crusty warm loaf of home comfort and nourishment. The
same with wine; first it sits all gross and
foamy, but with skimming and straining over time it
sweetens and clarifies into nectar of the gods.
Sauerkraut, now there’s a disgustingly odoriferous
process. For the first two weeks that the cabbage
and salt sit fermenting in the crock it smells like
roadkill left out in the sun. Here’s the thing... no
matter
how much something may stink at the outset, give it some
time to develop and change, and then
re-evaluate it sometime down the road. Things are not
always what they seem at first whiff.
And then again, sometimes a dead fish will remain a dead
fish.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 8, 2006 8:30 a.m.
45 degrees, calm, foggy, raining
The last bits of snow are melding with the fog that has
settled over Gomer Hill.
What the warm temperatures of the past two days couldn’t
manage to do is happening
right under our noses in a quiet and seamless way, with
the water being taken up by the mist
to fall again another day as rain or snow. The first time
I learned about the water cycle I kept
asking the question “you mean it is the exact same
water over and over and over again ?” until
the teacher got the idea that I was being a wisenheimer
and started to ignore my question. I re-
member that as if it were yesterday; it was in the fourth
grade, as our regular teacher had been
out for surgery and we had a succession of substitute
teachers that we made cry on purpose,
for whatever reason kids do such cruel things. But my
question was genuine, my bewilderment
that the rain that fell was previously some chinaman’s
urine or the nasty water from Lake Erie
that often had fish floating belly-up in midsummer; even
the spittle from a dentist’s office visit
would eventually show up as rain, or a river, or, god
forbid, our drinking water. I am not
making this up, and I still am amazed and a little
grossed out. For more information on
the water cycle, visit here. Your homework for today: think
about the miracle of pure
water that we are so fortunate to have in our lives, in
spite of where it’s been.
Have a great (and grateful) day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 7, 2006 7:45 a.m.
43 degrees, breezy, overcast
No blizzards raging, no monsoons or microbursts in the
offing,
just a little drizzle and warmer temps than usual for
this election day.
No excuses, get to the polling place and cast your vote.
For an overview
of the candidates in your district, visit www.smartvoter.org.
Vote for change,
vote your party, vote for the one with the cutest hair. (Well,
not really that last part.)
Otherwise, there’s that whole unpleasant dying twice
in the vile dust thing, according
to Sir Walter Scott, changed only slightly by Garrison
Keillor:
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my day, election day !
Who heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As toward the polling place he turned
And there to promptly made his way—
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.
from The Lay of the Last Minstrel
Have a fine day;
do the correct thing,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 6, 2006 7:45 a.m.
37 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
There are clouds to the east, gathered around the sun
like a flock of sheep.
Sunrise was very colorful, and just before dawn the full
moon reflected some
of the pink hues high in the western sky. The moon is
horizon-bound now, and
will be gone from view within the hour. Today will be
warm and sunny, and perhaps
the snow will eventually soak into the ground. It seems
that, lately, our best weather has
been showing up on days that I have commitments to an
outside job that is, unfortunately,
inside. At least I can take advantage of this beautiful
morning, and hang out laundry before
leaving for work. And, no matter what, there is always
time for a walk; even when I worked
fulltime, I could find at least twenty minutes every day
to trek around outside to see what was
going on. Schedule it into your day, just like you do a
shower and a coffee break. If your day
is already filled, use your coffee break or lunch time to
take a walk around the building, the
parking lot, or the block if the day is fine. Walk as
soon as you get up and watch the sun
come up. Walk around the neighborhood after you pull your
car into the garage at the
end of the day; wear a headlamp if it is dark. Even if
you don’t feel like it, I guarantee
that after five minutes you will be happier than when you
set out. Your heart will
thank you, your joints will thank you, and your dog will
think you are a god.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 5, 2006 8:00 a.m.
30 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
The roadways remain fairly clear but there is lots of
snow in the yard.
After the plow came through yesterday morning, the slop
on the road
gradually disappeared during the day, even though several
lake effect
bands piled about four more inches everywhere else. I
guess the road is
still holding on to a little summer warmth, that and the
salty sand combined
to keep the surface merely wet instead of slippery. We
walked along a back
road, keeping our eyes peeled for signs of life in the
meadows and forest byways.
There were lots of deer tracks, and the heavy bootprints
of two hunters led from
their truck to the interior of the woods where their
treestand is located. Since it
was a weekend day during hunting season, I didn’t
venture from the road too far
to investigate the myriad animal signs left all over the
place. Predominate were the
tiny double hopping marks of red squirrels, straight
lines stitched in the snow like the
double needle finish on a french cuff. Meadow voles and
shrews left telltale holes in
the snow, connected by meandering erratic tracks,
purposeless drunken wanderings,
perhaps after eating fermented sweet corn or apples that
were slightly off. Last night’s
nearly full moon was definitely the star of the night sky.
The snowcovered landscape
reflected the light back a hundredfold, and moonstruck
dreams accompanied a
short night’s sleep. Grab a gander at it tonight, it
will rise just before sunset.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 4, 2006 7:30 a.m.
27 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
It is snowing pretty hard south of here, a real lake
effect event. It may drift up our
way after a bit, adding to the three inches we received
last night. The sun has been
coming and going; actually, the sun stays put, the clouds
come and go...but the illusion
persists. We walked yesterday but not too far, as the
wind picked up and drove the cold
right through our jackets. Even the dog’s fur coat
didn’t seem to do the trick, as he made a
beeline for the woodshed as soon as we returned to the
yard. There has been a steady flow
of trucks coming up the road this morning, hunters
looking to fill their tags easily with all of the
good tracking snow. Our venison came back from the
butcher yesterday and we feasted last
night on tenderloin smothered in caramelized onions, as
fine a meal as we have ever had. Much
of the morning will be spent making stew and meatballs
for the freezer, home-made Hungry Man
entrees. But first, a stroll around the meadow to see
what critters have passed in the night.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 3, 2006 8:30 a.m.
30 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Five inches of new clean fluffy snow covers all of the
meadow but the tallest of hay
stubble. If I didn’t know that the ground is
saturated with rainwater and there are huge
stretches of standing water I might be tempted to try a
little cross-country skiing today.
However, experience tells me that I wouldn’t take
ten strides before the slop would wick
up through the thin snowcover and bring me to a
screeching halt, stuck somewhere between
ice and mud. A good pair of combat boots and warm wool-blend
socks are all I really need
to trek about in the fresh snow today, that and a bright
orange pinnie to alert hunters of my
whereabouts. In spite of the sunny breaks that now add
sunglasses to the outfit, more snow
is probably on its way right through until Sunday. Last
night we ended a gathering early so as
to make it home before bad weather set in. Boonville
still had clear skies and we all admired
a beautiful nearly full moon in a starfilled sky. As I
traveled north along the Upper Road, stars
winked out all at once; just after Potter’s Corners
I ran smack into a blinding band of lake effect
snow. The road morphed from clear and dry to snowcovered
in the blink of an eye. Thank
goodness for good snow tires and a lack of oncoming
traffic. Slow down in the snow, and
watch out for the other guy who may not yet be
experienced in winter driving techniques.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 2, 2006 8:30 a.m.
35 degrees, calm, partly sunny
The morning may be only partly sunny, but that part is
dazzling. Most of the snow
is gone and has left behind huge puddles of standing
water all over the meadows, frozen
and shining like big vanity mirrors. Every weed and blade
is glazed with melting frost; grass
gleams and glistens with a deep emerald sheen. Redtwig
dogwood really stands out on a morning
such as this; we are lucky to have this rather expensive
ornamental shrub growing wild here in the
North Country. We took a long walk on a back road
yesterday and found lots of colorful contrasts
to the brown soggy leaves that now cover the ground. Red,
yellow, and orange striped apples hang
in abundance on many trees, not yet harvested by the
turkeys and deer that find them so delicious
when the browse grows scarce. Bright red highbush
cranberries (viburnum trilobum) are still
abundant, as are the smaller scarlet fruits of false
solomon’s seal and nightshade vines. There
is still some snow in the woods and along the unplowed
back roads of Tug Hill, which made
for a juicy little trek. The sun was shining, and that
took away the chill breeze created by
zephyrs passing over the slushy mess. We may see some
snow tonight and tomorrow,
prelude to the real deal of winter. My skis are waxed and
ready to glide;
until then, we will enjoy walking and drinking in the
last gasps of autumn.
Bundle up,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 1, 2006 8:30 a.m.
39 degrees, calm, partly cloudy
Bright morning sunshine is being slowly overruled by big
dark clouds moving in from
the southwest. Probably there will be a big game of tag
all day long before the clouds
eventually win. We set out for a nice long walk yesterday
to stretch our legs after the
stormy weekend indoors, and were stopped cold (literally)
by unplowed road that was
all slushy snow and muddy ruts. The footing was tricky
and the dog did not enjoy the icy
slop, so we walked the bare section of road a couple of
times, up and back, up and back...
seeing different stuff even though we passed the same
landmarks several times. Cattails have
exploded into big plumes of fluff, and the breeze teased
cottony floaters from each stem with
every puff. Ravens darted in and out of the forest, and
crows kept track of their whereabouts
from the fringe trees. There are dozens of deer trails
worn into the snow, and dog or coyote
tracks overlaying many of those. Trails left by smaller
critters were melted into single ruts,
and there were lots of them going down to the creek and
back. The biggest change of
all is in the gardens; just a month ago they were full of
vibrant colorful flowers and
vegetables begging to be picked and enjoyed. Now they
have all been knocked
down by the disc-harrow and are covered with snow,
looking like just another
part of the meadow. I already miss the flowers, but we
can still enjoy the tasty
produce of our labors from the freezers, shelves, and
storage bins in the cellar.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
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