Along the Way

A quick trip out to get my flu shot and a haircut--the wild reflection in the morning mirror was beginning to startle me.

Driving on a clear fall day, with the leaves nearing peak color, is pretty much a religious experience for me.

Lots of yellows and golds but not a lot of red. Sometimes it comes on quite late.                                                  

Driving under these back-lit yellow leaves almost takes my breath away.

As I've said before, it's all the sweeter for being such a fleeting time.

Not unlike old age.

 

An Outage of Cows

Louise and I were going to spend a pleasant day with watercolors so I went down to the lower place to pick her up, only to be confronted with cows where they didn't belong.

Alas, my little cow-herding buddy was in school, and John was elsewhere. I'm no Border Collie and I move quite slowly but fortunately, the cows know where they belong and trundle back to the gate with me hirpling along behind. (I only recently discovered the word hirpling, a Scots term for hobbling and I  am making it my own.)

Easily done. But it reminded me of a time forty some years ago when I had Justin in a carrier on my back and I chased after our wandering milk cow across the hard road and around the mountain. I got her turned around eventually and back to the barn, but, lordy! I couldn't do that now. 

Old times they are not forgotten.

 

Under Grey Skies

                                                                                 

                                                                                       

                                                                                       

  

Class Struggle Ahead?

 

                                                                         

Last month when I posted about the weaponized Castle Ladies staging a coup and knocking down the king, my son Ethan commented, "Next up, class struggle. Though I guess not many of her internet admirers send peasants . . ."

John's sister took the challenge. She and I think the big one is named Hildegard. She definitely looks capable of kicking ass and taking names. Or knitting while the guillotine is in use.

                                       

A Small Outrage

There is so much to be outraged about these days -- Ukraine, the Middle East, climate change, and the dysfunctional GOP that is holding our government hostage so that it can't address any of these--that I almost hesitate to voice my sheer stupefaction at this multi-page mailing from Blue Cross Advantage--our Medicare supplemental insurance.

Two of these flashy, splashy accordion-folded notices arrived Saturday, one for me and one for John. I opened mine at once, hoping to hear that perhaps coverage had been expanded or something. 

Nope. This whole hoorah was simply to inform us that we would be getting new cards with different numbers. Information that would have fit nicely on a postcard.

I'd like to know what this mailing cost Blue Cross--and what the post card would have cost. 

And the rates keep going up.

                                                                                   

Sunday Walkabout

 

The Castle Ladies Take on Captain Hook (and Win)

When Meema was bringing me home from school on Thursday, she told me she needed me to help her clean up the shelves where the Castle People live.

So, after snack, I got to work. (I always try to be helpful like when we went to the basement to get my Klondike bar out of the freezer, I unloaded the dryer and carried the basket of clothes back upstairs. Meema carried the Klondike bar. I am very strong.)

There was a Lot of stuff to move off the shelves but at last they were empty and Meema could wipe away the dust with a wet sponge.

There were things I'd forgotten about, like this tiny book.

When the shelves were clean and dry, Meema asked me to put the people back and to organize them so that they told a story. (I am good at stories.)

I had to think about a story . . . and I decided to start with the Castle Ladies and their weapons that I gave them last week.

They are surrounding Captain Hook who was trying to steal their treasure.

Meanwhile, the unicorn and alicorn that I painted are looking after their babies. (I painted them too.)

The sentinel is guarding the gold.

Captain Hook is surrounded!!!

The Ladies have defeated him!!! He is so angry that he has stuck his sword in the ground. And now he can't get it out.

On the Fairy People's shelf, the Very Old Fairy Guy is telling stories to the Hippogriff.

This action figure guy is playing on the ice. 

And Hawkie has found a unicorn horn.

Whew! That was a lot of work! Time for a cream cheese and honey sandwich and some library books. I need a rest!
 

The Monkey Dilemma

Scrolling through Facebook recently, I came across a video of an Asian woman feeding two little monkeys, both in diapers and fancy little outfits. While I've never been a particular fan of monkeys (once my family babysat a monkey for a week or so and he was pretty unpleasant), something about this video caught my attention and I watched it all the way through.

The little monkeys were very calm and obedient, almost too much so. And it was fascinating to see how human they were. Both sucked their thumbs while they were waiting for the food, which their (self-described 'mom') took her time preparing.

In the week or so that followed, I watched a few more--'Mom' bathing the monkeys, more feeding, etc. Then suddenly, almost every other post in my FB feed was monkeys--different ones, some with cute human "sister," some riding on the back of a motor scooter, going shopping, sleeping . . .

And the monkeys were getting younger and younger; newborn, even.

Wait a minute! I thought. Where are these babies coming from? Why aren't they with their real mothers?

I had asked this question in the comments early on but had never received an answer. (There were thousands of comments, attesting to the popularity of these monkeyshines.)

Finally, I realized that the best thing for me to do was to block all monkey-related feeds, rather than continue to somehow support this apparent exploitation of baby monkeys.

Monkey off my back.

  

 

Fall Fashions

                                                                                        

Five Star Keeper

                                                                          

A few weeks ago, John sent me a recipe for stuffed Portbello mushrooms. I finally remembered to purchase some large enough for stuffing. But I'd lost the recipe.

The recipe I ended up with is HERE. As usual, I adapted it to suit what I had on hand. Minced onion instead of shallots,   frozen spinach instead of fresh, a quick homemade tomato sauce, and herbed English cheddar instead of goat cheese. (Goat cheese would be fantastic in this recipe but J can't abide it.) And I served it on a bed of orecchiette pasta.

The key ingredient, in my opinion, is the panko crumbs which have been sauteed in butter with minced garlic. I could eat them by the spoonful.

It's not a difficult recipe--but there are lots of pots involved.  It comes together nicely though.

John proclaimed it a five star keeper. It was pretty delicious.

Intimations of Autumn

                                                                                                                                                                       

It's time to begin bringing in the non-hardy plants. It's been cool at night--in the forties--and no frost warning as yet but still, it's time. 

I've moved a few of the tenderest but keep putting off moving this glorious fuchsia because I love seeing it first thing in the morning. It's bloomed continuously since Mother's Day and doesn't seem inclined to stop.

Just the beginnings of color on the hills--dogwoods and Virginia creeper and poison ivy are showing red. 

We have hay and wood and fuel oil laid in and we finally closed all the windows yesterday. John is looking forward to a respite from the mowing and weed-eating that has occupied most of his time these past few months. 

I love these cooler days and the clear blue sky. In my opinion, Fall is a close second to Spring. Spring is flinging open the windows and going forth. Fall is drawing in, being cozy by the fire, time for soups and stews. It's a slightly bitter-sweet time but all the more enjoyable for its brief stay before Winter has us in its icy grip.

                                                                                  

                                    

A Gothic Heroine

A while back, my older son Ethan sent a picture of their dog Moxie, gazing pensively out the window, and mentioned that she looked like a Gothic heroine. 

I agreed and gave her more Gothic surroundings. Forgot the candelabra though.

She's kept me entertained the past few days.

 

Look To This Day

                                                                             

Look to this day:

For it is life, the very life of life.

In its brief course

Lie all the verities and realities of your existence.

The bliss of growth,

The glory of action,

The splendour of achievement

Are but experiences of time.

For yesterday is but a dream

And tomorrow is only a vision;

And today well-lived, makes

Yesterday a dream of happiness

And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Look well therefore to this day;

Such is the salutation to the ever-new dawn!

(From the Sanskrit by Kalidasa)