~
Friday, November 30, 2007 8:30 a.m.
22 degrees, breezy, overcast, snowing
I heard the town plow scrape by the house in the middle
of the night and thought yippee, the snow has finally
arrived !
After all, hadn’t every local news broadcast
throughout the day
given the direst of weather predictions, with a Lake
Effect Snow
Warning in effect blah blah blah even though the sun
was shining
and only a couple of inches of wet sloppy snow had fallen
so far. In-
deed, the big story yesterday was the wind; I had trouble
keeping to
my own lane both coming and going. There were stars out
on the jour-
ney home from work, but still I drove slowly because of
treacherous
wind gusts and gamboling omnipresent deer who are extra-oblivious
to traffic this year, suicidal perhaps. Storm warnings
are still in effect
through suppertime, but I think I will disregard all
prognostication this
winter, and rely on my own senses to “predict”
what I actually see
before me. I predict that during the next minute a little
snow will
fall, backlit by a beautiful silvery sun, on this, the
final day of
the gunmetal grey month of November. Hey, I was right !
I predict you will have a fine day,
no matter the weather,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 29, 2007 8:30 a.m.
31 degrees, overcast, windy, snowing
A wonderful winter scene plays outside my window, snow
and
wind and not much else. It is nearly warm enough for the
snow to
morph into rain; indeed, the fat flakes liquefy as soon
as they hit the
panes, leaving long runnels on the glass.
Yesterday’s high only made
it into the low 20s, and the sun was an infrequent
visitor, having given
in to encroaching clouds early in the day. The sheets,
towels, and pillow-
slips I had hung out early in the morning to dry were
stiff with ice when we
retrieved them before dark. As they finished their airing
on racks and rods
they released a fresh air scent that would make me a
billionaire if I could
capture that fragrance in a candle or joss stick. Putting
our heads to rest
on the sweet Novembery linens was a sensory experience
worth men-
tioning: the cool smooth feel of pure cotton against a
warm cheek, the
whiff of wintry breezes, the feeling of being utterly
protected under
layers of flannel and fleece while the front blew through
the yard
with its unearthly howl, what bliss! Simple pleasures,
sincerely
experienced... the basis of much joy for this simple life
I lead.
Have a simply wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 28, 2007 8:00 a.m.
18 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
A thick bank of dark clouds sits in the valley like a
long bolster.
The sun finally made its way into view, a glowing orb
following the
path that straight shimmering golden sunbeams laid out
during its moments
of concealment. I hope the air warms as the sun rises
higher in the sky, as
today is laundry day. Snow started to fall last night as
I traveled home from
work, with significant amounts on the road from Main
Street Turin all the way
up Gomer Hill Road. Visibility was poor, and I barely
missed colliding with
a deer as it moseyed across the road a half mile from our
home; good thing
I was going slow and paying attention. The view is clean
and white this morning,
with two inches of fresh snow reflecting the bright
sunlight and making us squint
a little. I have searched in vain for our troupe of
starlings that has spent the past
several winters hanging out in the big maple by our barn;
they are nowhere to
be seen. Perhaps they have moved on to cheer someone up
who needs it
more than I. Maybe it is a portent of an extra-hard
winter on the way;
blue jays and crows have been scarce these past few weeks
as well.
We haven’t had a real sockdologer of a winter for
several years,
so we are due.
Bring it on !
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 27, 2007 8:00 a.m.
32 degrees, breezy, overcast, snowing
Tiny snowflakes dance across the meadow swept along by a
steady
west wind. Snow is starting to accumulate on the macadam,
but the fields
and forests are so waterlogged by yesterday’s heavy
rain that it is soaking
into those areas. I can see from my window that farther
down the hill the
roads are bare, so our little snowstorm may merely be the
result of higher
altitude here on Gomer Hill. I expect it is raining right
now on the flats. Still,
the wintry morning view is very pretty, and whets my
appetite for more. The
changing of the seasons is the same yet different four
times a year. Last year
winter never skated in until well after the new year, and
we wonder if today’s
little snowfall is just a tease, or a frosty hors
d’oeuvre for the real deal.
Only time will tell, and sometimes time ain’t
talking.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 26, 2007 8:00 a.m.
34 degrees, breezy, overcast. misty
Not quite fog, not quite rain, too fine to be snow...
this is a hard call,
so misty it is. I awoke to what I thought was hail,
but it turned out to be
the ice breaking free from the trees around the house and
blowing against
the roof. Our sparkling fairy landscape has been replaced
by a flat scene
set in black and white and all shades of grey in between.
Butterscotch and
caramel hued meadow grasses and weeds add a warm touch of
color; still,
it is a rather plain view this morning. Yesterday we
walked late in the day,
after the stiff wind had played itself out; realized that
very soon we will likely
be skiing the same paths instead of hiking. We saw
several deer moseying
along seemingly without a care in the world, all does and
yearlings, not an
antler among them. As we passed Horsey Creek we flushed
out two par-
tridge; no matter how many times we do this, we are still
absolutely sur-
prised at the speed with which they burst from their
cover, where they
rested perfectly camouflaged until the last moment. As we
neared the
house on our return trip we smelled fragrant smoke from
the apple
wood we had chucked into the range when we left, better
than
any incense. The moon rose bulging and orange just after
we
put our boots and warm coats away, thinly striped by
clouds
and awesome in its majesty. We soaked up enough beauty
from yesterday’s journey to take us through the next
few
days of rain transitioning into snow, a different kind of
charm that might take some attitude adjustment.
Keep a sunny day in your heart,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 25, 2007 8:30 a.m.
32 degrees, windy, sunny
Bright sunshine and moderating temperatures provide a
nice start
to this Sunday morning. Wind is frisky, blowing hard from
the west.
A nearly full moon just set behind tall trees to the
northwest, huge and
pearly against the soft blue sky. Yesterday we traveled
to Amsterdam,
and the sunrise was beautiful, but soon became a problem
as it shone
directly into my eyes; even dark glasses couldn’t
tame that dazzle, and
I stopped for gas a little early just to escape the glare
for ten minutes.
Fortunately there was little traffic on the thruway, and
we arrived at our
destination in good time. We attended a Zumba class,
which was tons
of fun and a good way to start our weekend. Doesn’t
this look like fun ?
click here Shake yourself up a
little and try something new.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 24, 2007 5:30 a.m.
13 degrees, calm, mostly starry
A creamy full moon hangs low in the western sky on this
very cold morning.
About an inch of new snow reflects moonbeams like sequins,
and the air is filled
with tiny frost crystals that shimmer in the soft light.
At one point yesterday afternoon
bright sunbeams were shining through heavy flurries, and
the icy beads still strewn on
the trees were dazzling beyond belief, a real show-stopper.
Snow swirled, Ice sparkled,
and we were able to enjoy one of those rare magic
adamantine afternoons of a Tug Hill
November. I am off the Hill for the day, headed to the
eastern part of our state; it will
be a nice change to travel the broad valley highways;
still, I am already looking for-
ward to homecoming, settling into the cozy warmth for
some kind of turkey casserole.
Seek home for rest, for home is best.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 23, 2007 8:00 a.m.
15 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy, flurries
It is so cold that Thanksgiving dinner leftovers stored
on the porch are
partially frozen. We walked after our midday meal
yesterday, and the view
was festive with tiny icy beads hung on every twig. Wet
leaves and grass were
frozen stiff, noisy with frost; every footfall resulted
in a plenty of snap, crackle and
pop, leaving big moist bootprints wherever we wandered.
Dead goldenrod bowed
in graceful arches, creating a playground of weedy
tunnels in which little critters can
romp and hide. Snow started to fall during our trek, tiny
white flakes sugaring the icy
meadows and clinging to evergreen needles, a
fittingholiday touch. Darkness fell all
too soon, reminding us that we are just one short month
from the winter solstice.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 22, 2007 8:30 a.m.
30 degrees, breezy, freezing rain
I will let the following selection from The Daily Om
represent me,
as we are of similar mindset on this, one of my favorite
special days.
Thanks for reading,
Daisy
Beyond Counting Blessings
Being Truly Thankful
Often when we practice being thankful, we go through the
process
of counting our blessings, acknowledging the wonderful
people, things
and places that make up our reality. While it is fine to
be grateful for the
good fortune we have accumulated, true thankfulness stems
from a powerful
comprehension of the gift of simply being alive, and when
we feel it, we feel it
regardless of our circumstances. In this deep state of
gratitude, we recognize
the purity of the experience of being, in and of itself,
and our thankfulness is part
and parcel of our awareness that we are one with this
great mystery that is life.
It is difficult for most of us to access this level of
consciousness as we are very caught
up in the ups and downs of our individual experiences in
the world. The thing to remem-
ber about the world, though, is that it ebbs and flows,
expands and contracts, gives and
takes, and is by its very nature somewhat unreliable. If
we only feel gratitude when it serves
our desires, this is not true thankfulness. No one is
exempt from the twists and turns of fate,
which may, at any time, take the possessions, situations,
and people we love away from
us. Ironically, it is sometimes this kind of loss that
awakens us to a thankfulness that goes
deeper than just being grateful when things go our way.
Illness and near-miss accidents
can also serve as wake-up calls to the deeper realization
that we are truly lucky to be alive.
We do not have to wait to be shaken to experience this
state of being
truly thankful for our lives. Tuning in to our breath and
making an effort
to be fully present for a set period of time each day can
do wonders for
our ability to connect with true gratitude. We can also
awaken ourselves
with the intention to be more aware of the unconditional
generosity of
the life force that flows through us regardless of our
circumstances.
~
Wednesday, November 21, 2007 8:00 a.m.
35 degrees, breezy, fog, drizzle
Boy howdy, it’s some kind of wet out there this
morning !
As if thick fog isn’t enough, the air is so dense
with fine raindrops
drifting sideways it’s a little like swimming
underwater. If it is possible
to have more than 100% humidity, this is the day for it.
Yesterday I was
a little baffled by the presence of ice on only a few
trees, and a hike around
our neighborhood only served to deepen my confusion.
There were long stretches
of squishy grass in the meadows and the forest floor had
a decidedly soggy bottom,
but here and there little bits of ice clung to twigs and
weeds as a random event. I
thought that altitude might play a part in the icing
phenomena, but when we ven-
tured downhill a bit we found some puddles with a thin
glaze and others rippling
in the wind, ice-free. It is possible that the flow of
wind was a major factor in
determining where Jack Frost left his polar fingerprints;
at any rate, by the
time my journey concluded, I was no wiser than at the
outset. I suppose
some kind of scientific equipment could be employed to
determine the
subtle differences in microclimate within a square mile
of territory here
on Gomer Hill, but for now I look at it as just another
example
of Mother Earth telling her children, “Because I
said so.”
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 20, 2007 8:30 a.m.
33 degrees, windy, overcast, raining
Rain is almost freezing in a couple of places
around the yard.
The truck streams water from its rooftop channels, not a
sign of ice;
however, a red-leaf maple and one of the birch trees in
the back yard
sports tiny icicles on their smaller twigs of two or
three drops in length.
These two trees are in close proximity with each other,
and it is odd that
the rose hedge and three evergreens in the same area have
no sign of wintry
glazing. The town trucks came by early, spreading sand on
the roads, so there
must have been icing on the pavement at some point. Last
night was chilly with
a strong south wind that awakened me in the middle of a
dream to close the win-
dows in the bedroom; it is seldom that we get a south
wind. Soon after I sealed
up the room, rain started to fall, a pounding deluge that
lasted only a few minutes
and then quieted down to a steady drizzle. The wind is
still stiff from the south,
and sometimes rain blows in undulating veils across the
meadows, kind of
a cross between fog and ocean spray. I am glad all of my
day’s work is
scheduled to be done inside today; getting in and out of
the car will likely
be my main contact with the great outdoors. If you
haven’t already tuck-
ed some spare winter gear into a corner of the backseat,
now is the time;
hat, mittens, fleece blanket, down vest, granola bars,
and warm socks,
all a good idea in case of a breakdown in this
unpredictable weather. I
suggest keeping this in the backseat instead of the trunk,
because often
the situation is such that you may not be able to exit
your car easily.
Better safe than sorry, that’s my plan.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 19, 2007 7:30 a.m.
24 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
It is one of those rare mornings when golden light from
the rising sun
has been captured within hovering dark clouds and lingers
from one horizon
to the other. The air is so sharp you could cut it with a
knife; just breathing it
in really wakes up my sinuses and makes me feel like a
spring chicken. It will
be a sunny day but remain chilly. There is no question
that laundry will not dry
on the lines today, except maybe for the sheerest of
linen handkerchiefs. I’m
hanging it out anyway, so that when I bring it in to
finish drying on racks the house
will fill with the fresh outdoor scent of November air.
Yesterday was a stunner of a
day; the Hill was swarming with deer hunters so we stayed
close to home. Several
does bounded through the back meadow but I still
haven’t seen any bucks in the
neighborhood. A flock of snow buntings swooped past the
house just before sun-
set, stark white with black wings, an awesome sight
against the deepening rosy
sky. Coyotes came out early, howling and yipping before
the last of the purple
fled and stars started to wink on one by one. We
don’t need to hike to see
the natural wonders of Gomer Hill, but we do need to
remember to take time
from our busy day to stop and enjoy what is right outside
the windows.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 18, 2007 10:30 a.m.
29 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
The breeze chases away sun’s warmth before it has a
chance to
settle on our bare faces this chilly morning. The
overnight low was
eighteen; when I went out at 4:30, it was twenty. The sky
was clear
except for a strip of sheer clouds by the eastern horizon,
and stargazing
was perfect. I enjoyed the sight of several meteors from
the Leonid shower,
but they were clustered in streaks of two or three, with
several minutes bet-
ween groups. I didn’t see any large ones that took
my breath away, or my
favorite, the lazy shooting stars that take their time
slowly blazing a trail
across the entire breadth of sky. Still, it was pleasant
to be outdoors in
the wee hours, when even the skunks and raccoons have
called it a night.
Earlier, the town fire siren was activated twice, and
each time it set off an
echoing hue and cry from the coyotes of Gomer Hill. This
is a fairly recent
development, one first noticed last autumn every time the
howl of the alarm
sounded, even in mid-afternoon. Last night the coyotes
sang along with the
siren, and ended soon after it shut off. Many times they
start their singing after
the siren has ceased, as if to prolong the song the big
40 horsepower motor
began. I wonder what the coyotes are thinking when they
hear that mighty
voice, and why all of a sudden they feel the urge to
answer. I love a mystery !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 17, 2007 8:30 a.m.
27 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy, flurries
Two inches of fluffy snow fell early this morning, after
a starry frosty
night. Before I retired for the night, I looked around
for some early meteors,
a precursor to the annual Leonid starstorm, but only saw
an endless number
of the usual celestial suspects, sparkling against the
deep black of a moonless
sky. The peak of this year’s Leonid shower will be
in the wee hours tomorrow
morning, and as the moon will set around midnight, the
viewing field should be
clear, if cold. If the snow has moved on by then, it
might be worth a look-see.
Yesterday we traveled to the valley, and were treated to a
good view of aspen
trees by the highway that have retained their beautiful
buttery yellow leaves. A
few grandmother oak trees in some of the small villages
outside of Utica were
lush with red and orange foliage as well. Many stands of
larch still display
masses of glistening amber needles, even here in the
North Country.
This deciduous conifer is also called tamarack or hackmatack,
depending on where you live. They are beautiful most of
the
year, and during winter they may be thought to be dead
evergreens instead of merely dormant larches. This is
a very useful species; to find out more, visit this link .
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 16, 2007 7:30 a.m.
28 degrees, breezy, flurries
Snow too sparse to measure dusts the scene this morning,
and it looks like it will stick to the road if more falls
today. The
northern Adirondacks picked up enough snowfall yesterday
to
cancel some events and make for tricky traveling, but we
had rain
right up until about midnight. I have reluctantly retired
my sandals for
more practical footwear, as sure a sign of winter as the
last flock of
geese passing through on their way south. The view
outdoors is devoid
of wildlife this morning; all the action is right here in
the house. Three cats
and a dog are crouched around the couch, staring intently
at something-
or-other that has taken refuge underneath. The last time
this happened,
I decided it would be helpful to tilt the couch back and
try to capture-
and-release whatever poor helpless little critter was
unfortunate enough
to get trapped in a houseful of predators. Here’s a
little tip; leave well
enough alone or you may find yourself the target of a
very frighten-
ed weasel who will do anything to escape, including
launching
itself at a human being with appalling speed and accuracy.
Never a dull moment here in the North Country...
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 15, 2007 8:30 a.m.
34 degrees, calm, rain/snow
Big wet flakes fall heavily to the ground, to be
assimilated instantly
into the mud and wet greenery left by last night’s
hard rain. It is unlikely
that there will be much accumulation on the road surface
unless the temp-
erature drops a few degrees. In the absence of wind, the
snow plummets
down; the shortest distance between Old Man Winter and
Mother Earth
must be a straight line this morning. With temps in the
twenties overnight,
we could awaken to a snowy vista tomorrow. Could our
annual Thanks-
giving hike become a cross-country ski outing next week?
At any rate,
it would be a good idea to get out all winter sports gear
and tune it up;
sharpen and wax whatever needs it, and rustle up the
fleecy layers
that keep us comfy outdoors when the cold winds do blow.
Perhaps we will have an early winter this year, to make
up
for last year’s late start. Time for snow tires too,
I reckon.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 14, 2007 8:30 a.m.
45 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
A pale sun hovers above a massive dark cloud bank right
over our house, and there are more clouds moving in from
the north.
It is hard to tell what the day will bring, although the
forecast is for warmer
temps than normal. There are still a few snowballs along
the edges of the road
leftover from last week’s little storm, but for the
most part the meadows are back
to being wet and green. The forest floor has a thin cover
of white stuff, and yester-
day we noticed that a lot of the larger shallow puddles
remain coated with ice thick
enough to support the weight of leaves and spruce cones
that have recently come
down. Does and yearlings scattered at our approach; a
friend who hunts says that
things are running behind schedule this season, and bucks
are still in the deep woods
preparing for the rut. There is no shortage of deer this
year; I wouldn’t be surprised
if any from this neighborhood taste like broccoli and
cabbage. They also mowed the
last of our lettuce and spinach right down to the ground,
so now there truly is nothing
left of interest to us in any of our garden spaces. It is
time to sprout some alfalfa seeds
to augment the inferior greens that will be available in
stores for the next six months.
We have a dozen tomatoes turning red that we picked under-ripe,
not quite as good
as in August but still far better than any store-bought
ones. Now we will turn to
slow-simmered hearty stews and soups rich with root
veggies and fragrant with
onions and garlic, cabbage slaws instead of big green
salads and cucumber
boats, meals that will warm us as they fill the kitchen
with scents of home.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 13, 2007 8:00 a.m.
39 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
Clouds fill the morning sky except for one tiny break to
the south.
Sunbeams stream through the celestial hole and illuminate
the highway,
and the mirrors and chrome on all of the cars twinkle
like earthbound
stars as they speed along. Visibility is very good and I
can almost tell
from way up here who is carpooling and who is driving
solo. That just
might be a slight exaggeration. The quality of a cloudy
day is as varied
as types of snow; it can be oppressive, heavy with
cloying masses of
low pressure pressing down on the landscape as well as
our physical
bodies, sending us running for the SAD-light unit. Or, it
can be an op-
timistic kind of cloudiness, sweet silver layers
illuminated from behind
by the sun, which you just know will eventually emerge
victorious and
full of cheerful hope. I almost always choose the latter
interpretation,
especially in November, when the weather can turn on a
dime and
affect our daily plans in its own special cusp-of-winter
way. For
now, I believe a stroll around the meadows is in order,
the better
to greet the day, no matter what is eventually in store.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 12, 2007 8:00 a.m.
30 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
The sun is a pale disc suspended in the sky behind slow-moving
clouds. We can dare to glance directly at the sun
without risking
damage to our eyes; it is amazing how much it resembles a
full moon
on a morning such as this. Snow still remains on top of
Tug Hill, but
much of it melted in yesterday’s relative warmth,
leaving many bare
juicy patches all over the meadows where blackbirds now
gather
for drinks and a snack. Yesterday’s blue skies,
brilliant sunshine,
and melting snow made it seem more like April than
November.
This morning is back on track with what we expect for
this time
of year; is it possible we will see a somewhat normal
winter ?
I hope so.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 11, 2007 9:00 a.m.
30 degrees, breezy, sunny
The sun feels good this morning, but a stiff northwest
breeze smacks
the chill right up against bare skin for the impression
that it is really much
colder than 30 degrees. Our overnight low was 20, and it
is taking its time
warming up out there. We walked up the Smith Road
yesterday afternoon;
it was 42 when we left the house, and somewhere along the
way I felt that
balloon-headed achy-sinus warning that something was
changing, weather-
wise. The mercury had dropped to 28 by the time we
stepped back into
the cozy kitchen; a cold front had obviously moved in.
Smith Road was
covered with snow, and footing was a little complicated,
but the walk
was a much-needed stretch after a morning of indoor
chores. Deer
tracks were everywhere, and one big doe bounded in front
of me
at top speed; I started to sing real loud, in case there
were hunters
in close pursuit.Oddly, I only passed one truck parked at
roadside
and saw noother humans along the way. Perhaps there was
some kind of
pigskin classic on the tube that kept the weekend
warriors indoors yesterday.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 10, 2007 8:30 a.m.
36 degrees, calm, partly sunny
A half inch of fine snow fell sometime during the night,
sugar-coating
the crusty stuff we received earlier in the week. Now we
will be able to
easily determine fresh tracks from old as we survey the
woods in search
of wildlife. At 3:00 a.m. four antlerless deer left their
mark in the garden
next to the house as they munched on brussels sprout
remnants. I wanted
to shoo them away without waking the rest of the
household, so I eased up
the window a few inches and made a low growling noise. I
was soon joined
by our dog who seemed to think it was a kind of game,
both of us grunting
and snarling like primeval beasts into the still night
air. The deer lifted their
heads and peered up at us, standing stock still as if to
become invisible,
and finally off they bounded, full of greens and feeling
lucky. Good thing
we cut our fill of sprouts a couple of days ago. That was
the last of the fall
crops, and after a couple of hours of monotonous cleaning
and sorting later
today, they will come to rest in the freezer alongside
all the rest of the splen-
did harvest from this season. Meanwhile, fog is lifting
from the valley where
it sat for hours like sea moss pudding, a blancmange of
mist that made
a perfect foil for the sun’s colorful entrance above
it all. The day
had a perfect genesis; could November be any more lovely
?
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 9, 2007 7:30 a.m.
27 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
This is a stunner of a morning, with silvery light
bouncing from
the sky to the snow and back again. In spite of a
forecast for a
drab day, right now it is an absolutely perfect picture
of November,
complete with frosty temperatures and a nippy little
breeze. Plans
to hang laundry outdoors will have to include gloves. My
wonderful
mother-in-law told me that the sun’s rays magnified
through ice crystals
will whiten sheets and towels better than any chemical
bleaching agent.
She also told me a good way to freshen woolen blankets is
to spread
them flat on the snow and sprinkle clean flakes on top,
then let the
sun do all the work. Back in the day, before disposable
diapers
were invented, we counted on sunlight to sanitize the
gnarliest
of objects. Never underestimate the power of old Sol;
he gets the job done !
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 8, 2007 7:15 a.m.
27 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
Layers of bright clouds do little to dull the morning
view, which is still
white from Tuesday night’s lake effect storm. A few
more flakes arrived
late yesterday, barely enough to sweep from the step. I
love the smell of
the first snowfall; it conjures up childhood in a way
that few things can:
sledding in the back yard, skating at the municipal park,
snow forts and
leggings, homemade hats and mittens, and hot chocolate
made with real
milk, cocoa and sugar, not from an envelope. We have
resurrected the
homey beverage in our own style, grating cakes of Mexican
Abuelita
chocolate into hot milk, exotic with a hint of cinnamon
and perhaps a
splash of Godiva chocolate liqueur now that we are grown-ups.
There
is almost enough snow to ski on, but the meadows are
still a little too
wet so I haven’t been out for that activity yet. We
walked on plowed
roads yesterday and saw oodles of deer tracks, which must
make the
hunters mighty happy. For as many deer as there are on
Tug Hill this
year, must be most of them are does; few of our friends
have been
successful filling their freezer. I am sure that this
good tracking
snow will bring many sportsmen to our neck of the woods
this
long holiday weekend, so be extra careful with your pets
and
personal safety; bedeck yourself and your dog with plenty
of orange, and sing real loud if hiking. Remember,
very few deer wear orange vests and sing opera...
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, November 7, 2007 8:15 a.m.
29 degrees, breezy, cloudy
It’s a black-and-white view this morning, with
sticky wet snow
plastered to the northwest sides of every vertical
obstruction: trees,
buildings, beanpoles, hedges, and vehicles left outdoors
overnight.
Snow started to fall on Tug Hill just after noon
yesterday, changing
to rain as I drove down into lower elevations to go to
work. The trip
home in the dark was dizzying, with rain changing to snow
in Talcottville,
big fat flakes streaming towards the windshield with
trippy video-game
strobe effects heightened by the high beams from my
headlights. Low
beams made the visibility better, but were inadequate for
detecting herds
of deer lingering at the roadside; the ride was slow and
more than a little
nerve-wracking. During the past week two of my
acquaintances collided
with deer, and there are more this year than ever, nearly
invisible at night.
We gathered all of our summer bulbs in yesterday, and
just as I was cele-
brating gaining full use of the sunporch again after it
having been strewn
with drying onions and garlic, we moved in trays of
gladiola corms to cure
for storage. We planted good size bulbs at the beginning
of the summer, and
some of what we dug up are three times bigger than the
originals, the size of
baseballs and larger. I can’t imagine how tall the
bloomspikes will be from
these huge corms next summer, and the flowers themselves
will be larger
too, I wager. There were too many dahlia tubers to bring
indoors, so
they are spread on newspapers in a small wood-heated
outbuilding.
We need to go bust the clumps up so they will dry faster.
Some of
the rootballs are as big as a gallon jug. The yield of
new tubers to
old seems to be about fifteen to one. We planted little
roots the size
of a fingerling potato, and some of the new underground
growths are
grapefruit sized. Holy cow, will we ever have flowers
next summer !
And this is how the seasons turn here in the North
Country; we look
out at new-fallen snow and dream of lovely bouquets a
half year hence.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, November 6, 2007 7:15 a.m.
34 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
Some really big clouds loom over the Adirondack
Mountains,
and the northwestern sky is also edged with dark masses
of possible
weather-breeders. There is a lake effect snow watch for
our area begin-
ning tonight and lasting through most of tomorrow... for
now. I have lived
here long enough to ignore the media cries of THE SKY
IS FALLING !
and wait for the weather in question to actually
appear, not just rumors of
same. We have started to dig our summer corms and tubers;
even though
they haven’t been frosted for very long it is better
than trying to lift them
with snow on the ground. The dahlia tubers look like
mutant potatoes,
starchy and plump. Gladiolas didn’t produce many
viable offshoots,
but each corm is surrounded by dozens of tiny cormels,
which may
become mature in a few years if we want to propagate them
our-
selves. I may put in a small bed of them just to see what
happens,
using just the largest of the batch. Meanwhile, cider
season is almost
here in our neighborhood, and I still have a few gallons
in the freezer
from last year. I am going to boil some down into syrup,
which I have
never tried. Apparently a gallon of cider will make about
a quart of syrup.
I can just taste it now, apple spice pancakes with a
little homemade sausage
on the side, covered with what I hope is delicious cider
syrup.
Have a sweet day,
Daisy
~
Monday, November 5, 2007 7:15 a.m.
36 degrees, windy, partly sunny
We arose to thick fog with not a smidgen of sky available
to
determine if it was sunny or cloudy above the mist. The
fog slowly
dissolved and a shimmering orange sun is banded by sheets
of coral
clouds to the east, very pretty indeed. Clouds to the
north and west
are a deeper orange tinted with a hint of mauve around
the edges.
Directly overhead the sky is silvery blue, pale as can be
while
still retaining a hint of color. The power lines along
the road-
side look like golden ribbons as the light bounces off of
them,
and fogwater held in cupped forsythia leaves sparkles
like thousands of little holiday lights. It is very windy,
so the magic probably won’t last too much longer.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, November 4, 2007 8:15 a.m.
42 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
As today’s busy activities include a little personal
vacation from electronic devices, I will
bid you farewell until tomorrow and leave you with this
fitting image of the past month.
"The Hunkering" by Donald Hall,
from White Apples and the Taste of Stone: Selected
Poems 1946-2006.
In October the red leaves going brown heap and
scatter
over hayfield and dirt road, over garden and circular
driveway,
and rise in a curl of wind disheveled as
schoolchildren
at recess, school just starting and summer done,
winter's
white quiet beginning in ice on the windshield, in
hard frost
that only blue asters survive, and in the long houses
that once
more tighten themselves for darkness and
hunker down.
Prepare to hunker !
Have an excellent day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, November 3, 2007 7:45 a.m.
34 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
Clouds to the east obscure the sun entirely, and the sky
is
only beginning to brighten from a sub rosa sunrise.
A pale blue
ceiling to the north is slowly revealed as clouds slide
away, borne
on a canadian clipper that is destined to usher in some
wintry weather
by tomorrow night. Two male bluebirds paid us a visit
yesterday; they
perched atop the tall spruce trees by our garden, looking
down at the
rock where the birdbath usually sits. Perhaps we took it
into storage a
few weeks too soon. A single robin hopped along the
freshly raked grass
of the yard, the only one I have seen since August. We
walked around the
meadow paths which are now strewn with brown faded clover
and queen
anne’s lace shriveled into little bird’s nests.
I was delighted to find a perfect
goldenrod flower next to some charcoal left by a brush-pile
burn site. The
black material probably acts as a solar heat sink and had
stored just enough
warmth from the sun to keep the blossom from freezing
these past few nights.
We paused by the sunflowers and I grabbed a handful of
seeds to strew in
the ditch by the roadside; perhaps a few will sprout next
spring. Last year
one washed all the way to the bottom of our hill where it
sprang into life
right by the Gomer Hill Road sign. Once a sunflower
bloomed in the
fork of our biggest maple tree, no doubt dropped by one
of the
blackbirds that hangs out there all winter. A dozen black-
birds greeted me this morning; I hope they stick around.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, November 2, 2007 8:30 a.m.
32 degrees, calm, sunny
Frost formed early last night, and there is still a thick
coat of it
everywhere the sun hasn’t hit yet. I went out at
midnight to do a
little stargazing, and billions of points of light were
extra sparkly in
the clear air. An odd glow was in the northern sky, but
if it was from
northern lights they were the boring kind, no colors at
all. It may have
been merely a few low clouds reflecting the light of a
half moon that had
just risen. I heard scads of coyotes in the distance, the
perfect soundtrack
to such a starkly beautiful night. I am looking forward
to ditching Daylight
Savings Time this weekend; mornings are my favorite part
of the day, and
it has been a little hard to arise in the dark day after
day. It must be odd to
live near the Equator, where the days and nights are
divided pretty evenly
into twelve hour portions. I don’t mind the shorter
hours of daylight in the
cold months; it gives us more time to appreciate the cozy
indoor comforts
of home: a warm fire, a hearty meal, a good book, and
pets curled up
dozing on our laps. And now, we will bundle up and walk
the paths,
the better to enjoy this splendid frosty morn close-up !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, November 1, 2007 8:00 a.m.
41 degrees, breezy, cloudy
Yesterday was warm and very windy, and as long as I
could keep laundry pegged to the lines it dried very
quickly.
Mother Nature’s clothes dryer; nothing like it for
cost efficiency
and imparting that April-fresh smell even in October.
Today we begin
a brand new month, where we often see a transition from
autumn to winter
happen in the blink of an eye. One of our maple trees
still clings to its foliage
for dear life, only just beginning to morph from green to
orange. Golden aspen
and birch leaves spin prettily in the morning breeze, and
black-and-white juncos
dot the varicolored forsythia hedge like punctuation
marks. Clouds move swiftly
from west to east, and a few flocks of geese are being
swept along in the same
direction, no doubt headed to the river. The bright green
meadow grasses are
tinged with brown, the lush cushiony springiness shifting
to a soft crunch as
we pace the paths. The grass is strewn with mushrooms,
many of them
looking much like the snowy white ones on the grocery
store shelves,
and some smaller purply-browns that look like little elf
hats. Most of
our flowers got zapped in the hard frost the other night,
but I was able
to pick a few bright yellow pansies and purple violas for
a small bouquet
on the kitchen windowsill. One gladiola is finishing up
its span as a center-
piece, stuck in the middle of a bunch of mums like a flag.
Dahlias are ready
to dig for storage, and glads won’t be too much
longer. I cut the rest of the
lettuce, trimming off crispy frostbite from the edges,
the slight bitterness
sweetened in a salad with asian pears and candied pecans.
Tomatoes
are finally done for outdoors, and there are only a few
dozen left in a
box to ripen at their leisure in the warmth of the
kitchen. I can finally put
the canning kettles away for another season; good thing,
I am out of jars !
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
|