"Into This New Month"

The Lost Summer began mid-May. Between then and now-- i.e., during those four and one-half months-- I added 207 crappy old books to my library. That's one and one-half books per day!* Some came from my old haunts, others from a new crappy old bookstore I found in Jackson, still others from the Neuroscience & Anatomy conference room in the research wing of UMMC. (FYI: You can never have too many books on the anatomy of the lab rat. And who doesn't need a two volume, 2791 page reference on Medical Physics?)

I traveled to Birmingham, and then to Jackson, with many of my crappy old new books (and some old favorites). This one-- Meditations for Women (1948, edited by Jean Beaven Abernathy) was piled in a 'must read' pile on a table covered with a sheet to protect them-- the pile and the table-- from drywall dust until today when it traveled with me to Memphis.

As a woman, and a survivor of The Lost Summer, I read with interest the meditation for October 1:

Into This New Month 

The sun and the stars do not break up eternity into thirty-day cycles. Their schedule provides for no momentary slowing down to celebrate accomplishment, nor for any speeding up to dramatize a new beginning. 

But we who live under the sun and stars have a recurrent need to say, "There-- that much is done," and to say, "This is a fresh start." Out of our human need we design a calendar pattern that can be imposed upon the endlessness of time. 

And although all our logic may tell us that the first day of a new month is just like any other, yet our feelings tell a different story. With some flick of thought, some quickening of the spirit, we acknowledge the difference-- ahead of us there is a month in which anything can happen; in which no mistakes have yet been made; in which we can begin again.

Frankly, I think Bonoro W. Overstreet, author of October's meditations, might have benefitted from a little introduction to astrophysics. Though to her credit, she doesn't talk about the moon. But I liked the sentiment. A whole entire month in which no mistakes have yet been made! WhooHooo!! 

ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN! The ceiling in the Greenhouse apartment might get painted! 

THERE! That much is done. I wrote a blog post!

*It tickles me no end when folks say stupid stuff like this. There's no such thing as 1.5 books. No one-- not even I-- buys a half a book! (Though I did buy an 1856 edition of Macaulay's The History of England from the Accession of James II Volume I which had a less than mint condition spine. I was missing Volume I. You take what you find when you find it.)

Things I Am Tired Of: Parts 1 & 2 of 365

In no particular order of Importance, Relevance to Life, or Linear Time Lines (we qualified for a 'free' Direct TV upgrade; I can now watch Daughter C's recorded episodes of Dr. Who over & over again as I dust), I am tired of

1. Not blogging

--and--

2. Dust

It is dry and there is always dust when it is dry but the sanding of the drywall inside the rooms that had been flooded three months ago really did me in. Had to spring $9 on a new mop/dustmop.

Regarding #1. I have, can, and will do better than this post. How hard can it be to get back on that blogbike after all these weeks-- especially since we've started a new contest!!

We launched the Fall '14 Mac & Cheese Contest last Sunday Supper. So far, after one entry, we are unanimous-- 'of one mind.' (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/unanimous?s=t)

I wonder how long he'll have Mississippi on his mind?

Goodbye, Arthur! Take good care of yourself and little puppy Cooper. Thanks for everything! We'll miss you.

15 Years On: For John

1999

Ah Love! Could you and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
     Would we not shatter it to bits-- and then
Re-mould it nearer to our Heart' Desire!

2014

Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough,
A flask of Wine, a Book of Verse-- and Thou
     Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow.

From The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Fitzgerald translation, second edition, 1868 (the first crappy old book I ever bought), quatrains CVIII and XII, respectively.

Happy Day!

Daughter C is leaving tomrorrow

While I was doing other things, Daughter C was preparing to leave.

I tried really hard to convince her to stay until tomorrow.

One more day.

Spud Love

Spud

Love

Ahhh...

We try hard to make the most of what life hands us. Who knew a bag of potatoes could bring us so much fun?

Mashed potatoes!!

We Supped & Danced With the Faeries,

watched Ghost Busters, and went off to bed.

That's what we did this Hallowe'en.

I cleaned & polished this floor just yesterday.

He is a manly dog. Don't you think?

Love. Love will keep us together.

I'm from the Government. Show me your ghosts.

Levitating, I assume.

I get that the room is relatively large,

but you don't really need binoculars to watch television. Good Grief.

Dog Whisperer.

Who ya gonna call? Ghost Busters!

By the way, Bill Murray is dead. He got shot in Zombieland.

I Dared You!

You didn't take the dare because when it comes to Mr. Bog Food's grilled steaks, you know better!

A fine birthday steak for A. Leland.

The red velvet birthday cake turned out very well.

There was just one small problem.

Daughter C corrected it at once!

Really? I've never posted the recipe for Red Velvet Cake I? I find that hard to believe but 'tis true. I'll make that a priority as soon as we've finished things up in Lubbock.

Tell Me This Isn't Going to Be Good!

I dare you!

This evening we begin A. Leland's Birthday Celebration! His birthday isn't for a couple of days, but hey, there's no reason not to start sooner rather than later.

These are some steaks that have been marinading in a bunch of stuff since mid-morning. Mr. Big Food will grill them to perfection. See that little tenderloin right there? That's mine.

The three layers for the cake are cooling. It's a red velvet cake. Yummy.

hap´pi-ness (-nĕs),

Missy

Rocky

n. 1. Good fortune; prosperity. 2. A state of pleasurable content with one's condition of life; felicity; bliss.

If You Are Fortunate

you know that a good life begins in the kitchen.

While Mr. Big Food & I were away fishing, Daughter C took it upon herself to conduct a BIG transformation of the kitchen.

It's orange. I love orange.

She painted the walls Mississippi clay orange and the backsplash slate write-on-it-grey.

She apologized for the French-- there was no need! This is awesome!

Big Food

BIG LIFE.

Inspiration

Born June 27, 1880

From Anniversaries and Holidays: A Calendar of Days and How to Observe Them (Mary E. Hazeltine, American Library Association, Chicago, 1965).  

American lecturer and writer, blind and deaf since infancy; the inspiration of countless handicapped people throughout the world.

[Photo from Pushing to the Front Volume II by Orison Swett Marden, The Success Company, Petersburg, N.Y., 1911. More on Marden here.]

There was an inspiring story in this week's newspaper as well.

Two fellows-- one, Rob "Bobcat" Robinson, from around here, and the other, Gillian Anderson, from Kansas-- have formed a nonprofit organization, Forever Outdoors. According to the front page story, "Their goal is to help people overcome obstacles that stand between them and outdoor experiences." Their first project is a "'wounded warriors' deer hunting trip to Anderson's place in Kansas for five soldiers who were severely injured in combat." 

The organization is accepting donations to fund the trip and hunt, but Robinson said one of the main needs is for someone to volunteer to take the wounded warriors to Kansas in a motorhome. The hunt is set for Sept. 13-21 and Robinson said it is about 1,000 miles to Alexander's property.

Should you wish to make a donation, make your checks payable to "Forever Outdoors." The weekly newspaper published Robinson's home address, his phone number, and email. 

Should you really wish to make a donation, the email is i hunt ks but just one string, no spaces, at yahoo and then a period mark and then "com."

Inspirational, no? Well, yes. But that's not the most inspirational part. 

I remember reading the back story last December. Unfortunately, December's papers were put to other uses here on the farm and I no longer have them. Here's what is reported now, supplemented with some memory.

The two first met in 2008, when Robinson began turkey hunting on Alexander's land in Kansas. As I recall, it was a formal arrangement-- they'd never met, didn't hunt together and so on. But over a few years they got to know one another. Geeze. I wish I could find the December write-up but the newspaper doesn't have their full archives online. What's in this week's paper I hope will give you a sense of inspiration:

Alexander, who had been fighting a kidney disease for about 20 years, was on kidney dialysis treatment by 2011 and badly in need of a transplant.

Robinson, who is a firefighter with the Starkville Fire Department, decided he would check to see if he could help and discovered his kidney was a match. After Alexander was cleared last year to receive a transplant from Robinson, the transplant was successfully completed on Nov. 26 at Kansas University Hospital.

Both men now say they want to give back because of their blessings, resulting in their decision to launch Forever Outdoors. Robinson said he has always wanted to start a hunting business — not for the money but to give back. Alexander, out of gratitude for his friendship and his kidney donation, told Robinson he wanted to help him.

“Both of us have been so blessed we wanted to give something back,” Alexander said Tuesday from his Kansas home. “We hope to be able to help people who can’t enjoy the outdoors (including kidney patients).”

Inspiration.

Robinson and Alexander and a dog

So I walk into the kitchen, see the purple basil on the table, and ask,

"Did you pick this basil yourself?"

"No. I asked Miss M to get me some. I went out and looked and told her specifically which kind I wanted."

"Okay, then!"

A few minutes later, "Hey, Marica!"

"Yes?"

"Can you go get me some thyme?"

"Sure. How much do you need?"

"About as much as the basil."

So I pick up Herbert-- what we've named the herb cutting scissors-- and walk out and pick some thyme.

I sowed seed directly in the herb garden along the sidewalk for a thyme 'hedge." It's creeping along nicely.

Parts of the herb garden are a pure-T mess. What with the rain and the warm weather, the weeds have gone crazy. The sage is over-run, but sage is a real trooper. Some cucumbers volunteered in the asparagus patch. I allowed them to stay. I'm laissez faire with respect to volunteers. I pulled the red onions the other day. They're curing. That opened up some space, which is good.

Oh! Because I wanted some perennial flowers in the herb garden, I sowed some Texas Bluebonnet seeds Mr. Big Food's Mom brought from Texas. They are about to flower!

We are making an effort to weed the herb garden. As bad as the weeds are, weeding an herb garden is a delightful task. We're careful, but we are rewarded for our mistakes! Dang. That smells good!

Happy Father's Day!

The Farmer and His Sons

A Farmer, being at death's door, and desiring to impart to his sons a secret of much moment, called them around them and said, "My sons, I am shortly about to die. I would have you know, therefore, that in my vineyard lies a hidden treasure. Dig, and you will find it." As soon as their father was dead, the sons took spade and fork and turned up the soil if the vineyard over and over again, in their search for the treasure which they supposed to lie there. They found none, however: but the vines, after so thorough a digging, produced a crop as had never before been seen.

There is no treasure without toil.

Aesop

A BIG "Thank You" to the Father, Father-in-Law, and "step-Daddy" in my life who toiled so hard to pass on a BIG Treasured Life to their sons and daughters.

~~
from The Book of Virtues: A Treasury of Great Moral Stories. William J. Bennett ed. Simon & Schuster, New York &c. 1993.

Just Another Day Down on The Farm

 

 

Truth be told, it's not just another day down on The Farm. In less than 10 hours Kat & Tony will be here! Yea!!

Lucky is Asleep.

And so is Miss M, I hope.

Lucky had a rough night last night.

But I think she's doing okay.

Look at it this way. She's alive.

OMG! You know what would be the perfect heat source? A laptop!!

The Grill

Barbequed Chicken I and Stirred Fried Broccoli on the Grill with Lemon Juice and Garlic

There's a storm rolling in-- should arrive later this evening. It was a beautiful evening to sit with the dogs while Mr.Big Food was grillin'. Mr. Big Food and Rocky did "guy" things. Mr. Big Food thinks it won't be long until grillin' over charcoal and hardwood becomes a lost art. 

Me? I'm doing some reading. Post-Reconstruction to Pre-WWI. Context for the Great Depression. And planting. And I cleaned the patio in anticipation of grillin'.

Miss M? Writing a paper and tending to Lucky, who has past the 36 hour hurdle and is becoming noisy!

Daughter C? Poor Dear. Pine Pollen's got her down. 

Kat? Researching kitten development. 

Tony? Working on copy-edits, I guess. 

And you?

Recipes to follow.

Feelin' Lucky?

After the Birthday Weekend, and Monday at That School Up North, I was looking forward to a routine day. No such luck. 

We began our day in the overgrown pasture. It started to mist as we were making our way back to the gate. I realized something was amiss when neither Missy nor Rocky came a runnin' for a treat. I investigated. Good Lord! Missy had something in her mouth. Again.

I finally got her to drop it-- and it was much more interesting than a treat!-- put their leashes on them and high tailed it back to the house where I grabbed a clean towel and then headed back to the pasture, hoping I could remember where she'd dropped it.

Luckily, I found it. And I did look everywhere for its nest. No such luck. So I took it inside. I mean, what was I to do? It's not like it was a mouse or a baby rat. (I once saw a swarm of fire ants on a small rat and I didn't want that to happen to it.)

Lucky

Fast forward 10 hours or so and you'll find Miss M pulling the two-week-old-kitten-rescue-night-shift in the quarantined guest room surrounded by eye droppers and syringes and baby kitten bottles and kitten rescue formula and towel swatches that are supposed to substitute for mothers' tongues.

As an aside, this may surprise. I have no crappy old books on kitten rescue. But it's amazing how fast news and information travels these days. I sent Miss M that photo (taken on my phone) as soon as I had Lucky settled in her nest on top of my seed germinating heat pad. Within minutes Kat had emailed with a web site on how to care for rescued kittens-- including feral kittens.

Lucky. Lucky to still be alive after having been in Missy's mouth. (Lucky weighs 5 ounces. Missy weighs about 1520 ounces.) Lucky to not be eaten to death by fire ants or picked apart while still alive by buzzards. Lucky to be warm & dry. 

So we'll see what happens. There are good signs-- when stimulated after feeding, Lucky pees! But at this stage of the game-- no matter how well we care for Lucky-- it's luck of the draw. Did Missy pull the runt from the litter or the most robust? Was its mother reasonably healthy and virus free? (I know who its mother is, by the way, but cannot attest to it health.) Can we-- not being mother cats-- balance heat and water? Lucky is at least lucky we understand enzymes. 

I was surprised to see how low the protein content of the kitten rescue formula was. 

Wish Lucky good luck. Or Pray. However you think you control the universe, please ask the universe to be kind to Lucky. 

Day is Done

And a fine day it was!

Dense fog tomorrow morning!

Outlaws Say the Darnest Things!