I think it's a combination of the end of the year busies and some end of the year lethies. (My friend D's word. When you are overcome with lethargy. The Lethies.)
I really have been busy, though. And I think of you all. Often. As I am busy being busy.
Work is suddenly much busier, which is all to the good if you are wanting to continue to be employed, although not so good if you are one of the 'huddled masses yearning to breathe free'. Much of the infectious diseases 'round these parts.
Yes. Of course I've gotten my flu shot. November 1st. 9 more days until it kicks in full force, may the force be with me. I've also started to get that dry hand syndrome thingy that I hate 6 months out of the year, where you have to slather the greasy hand ointment over your poor cracking and itching manos as you remove every last bit of moisture from them with the frequent hand decontaminating, at least what moisture the cold, wind, and humidity of 2 have left them.
So. What the hell else have I been up to?
Made some pies. One apple and one completely-from-scratch pumpkin, from the pumpkin that Colin brought home from the annual school trip to yet another pumpkin patch.
I loved the fresh pumpkin so much that I'm making it that way for Thanksgiving, provided that I can keep the one remaining pumpkin from rotting away. See prior post, dammit. 5/6 pumpkins bit the dust and are happily rotting (or freezing, awaiting rotting in April, in the composter). The trick? Sieve the pulp. Creamy smooth. Sighhhhh.
The apple one was quite good, as I added about 1/4 cup of brandy to the shebang.
I've been tackling the by-the-stable mess and the raised beds from hell. Sort of a joint project. I schlepped the floor of the stable:
(basically compacted and well rotted horse manure, with assorted fungi, which I will probably curse in 5 months as my veggie garden sprouts giant man-eating toadstools that lay siege to the house and demand their own dwelling place) to the top of the veggie bed:
And then Me, myself and I waged war on the 10'Lx20'Wx5'H ft area directly to the left of the stable, where my pal Deb and I had dumped about 1000 wheelbarrows of horse shit 3 years previously and then just left. It got colonized by all sorts of weeds, (yes, even the damn thistles) and it took a couple of years to get the timing right, but this year, I descended upon it as soon as the plants died back, but yet before the snows, and pulled up every mother-hating bit of it, including the pile of fence posts, horse gates, large wooden posts, miles of 1/2" fence wire, and such that we'd just piled there in our zeal to get the stable and pasture usable. Funny, we haven't used it for anything except to store an old push mower that, given the 8 acres of pasture we call 'heaven', we won't likely use, and the old table the previous owners left in the basement. But NOW it holds old fence posts, chicken wire and many rotting boards 10-15' long.
Actually, Charles has had 2 bonfires during the month of October. I could hear the souls of the ripped up weeds and such that I'd thrown in the fire pit screaming.
Next spring I'm planning to plant 3-4 apple trees.
Currently, I'm mulling over apple varieties. It was pointed out to me that the presence of apples will really attract the deer. I figure that some of the apples will ferment on the ground, providing the deer with a Calvados meal and me with more blog fodder.
We had 5 young deer traipse through our yard, today, and put on a macho show. None of them had antlers, and I swear they had zits, so we figured they were the human equivalent of 14 or 15 years old. 3 of the 5 strutted out to the middle of the east pasture and started this prolonged display of head-butting and giving wedgies. The other 2, obviously girls and embarrassed by the whole display, headed off into the trees, ditching the dweebs. So sad. They'll be getting their driver's licenses by next spring and then they'll be attempting to buy cheap crappo beer.
Actually, it's snowed more than that, if you count the white flakes coming down, but only twice has it stuck on the ground.
Sara found a toad, which she didn't step on, thank goodness, Colleen.
We just prodded it with a stick:
And then let it flee to a crack by the garage:
I found a walking stick bug and managed not to scream like a girl, but to pick it up with a large stick and put it on top of the porch railing and run for the camera:
It then, sensing that it's soul was about to be sold to the internet, tried to flee by dropping to the cement and slooooooly run away:
Oh, so slooooooowly:
So, those are my excuses.
Forgive me? Nah. Didn't think so.
Labels: The Life Rural