Ponder this:

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Seasonal [and other] observations

Now comes the season of the woolly bear migration. Or, rather, The Great Woolly Bear Dispersal, since they are all crossing the roads, but about equally in opposite directions. Just now coming back over the hill from the supermarket at thirty miles per hour, I watched carefully not too far in front of my car for small moving things and swerved this way and that way so as to avoid squashing any of the little guys. At one point I was faced with a Sophie's Choice -- one caterpillar heading east, the other heading west, and in such proximity to each other that if I saved one, I would obliterate the other. The only thing I could do: I stopped the car until they were out of my path. I'm glad there was no one driving behind me. I have seen bumper stickers that say, "I brake for fill in the blank" but none of them say "...woolly bear caterpillars." If there is one, I should avail myself of it.

I have stopped picking tomatoes. I feel a little guilty about that, but I can pick no more. Husband has noticed the abundance of red globes remaining in the garden, and has brought in his own piles of the things. 

He is making fresh tomato juice, a monumentally delectable item that I have never tasted before. It involves the food mill, and lots of patience. Too much fiddling for me; I just want to get to my book. But he doesn't mind, and I am glad to do the Wifely Praise part of the operation. The Wife Rule Book again, you know.



The soapstone stove's installed and operational. Notice, please, that we ordered it in brown metal rather than black. My choice because the brown is just about the same color as the ash and dust that will inevitably accumulate on the thing. Once it's rolling for the season, it will be too hot to dust or wash, so we might as well have it filth-colored to begin with.

Sweet Young Thing, my new morning boss, is still a refreshing change from Jane the Tyrant. I do find, howsomever, that she is one of those who get their talking points and marching orders from Rush, Sean, and Glen. 
"...all those people who are making us the minority!"
"The only reason Obama got elected was that he got all the blacks and Puerto Ricans to vote."
I wanted to say, "HOW DARE THEY!" but I did not.
I foresee June keeping her mouth shut in the area of political discussion. Friday morning I came about as close to getting into it as I hope ever to do. New Boss was lamenting the abundance of other-than-Caucasian students at the local college. She went on with such . . . vigor . . . about other cultures ruining "ours" that I finally asked, in a mild and curious tone, "I wonder why our culture can't withstand that influence?"
A pause, and then: "I don't know."
"Well," I said, "maybe it'll make you feel a little better to know that four of them were just murdered in Guilderland."
"Oh! That! That was terrible! There were children!"
I have yet to nail down the age at which but what about the children! cuts off and veers into . . . distaste, or how long people have to be in this country before they're acceptable.
Okay. Enough of that incendiary writing. Back to the safely prosaic.

Molly had fresh rabbit for breakfast this morning, and eschewed her kibble as a result. It's good she doesn't want to overeat. She took the bunny leftovers to the garden and hid them. Husband walked down to see if he could see how much was left. I watched the two of them from the upstairs bedroom window and saw Molly pretending the hiding place didn't exist ("Let's go down this way, Dad!") and Husband looking, looking, as Molly stood by, her tail wagging feebly, apparently hoping he would not find and steal her cache. He did not find any evidence of bunny remains and the two of them returned to the lawn with one of them vastly relieved.

10 comments:

Carolynn Anctil said...

You're cute. I made a t.shirt for my husband when we first moved here that read "I brake for gophers." It was viewed with some disdain by the locals, as you can well imagine. *grin*

My garden was toast about a month ago. I'm secretly relieved that I don't have to work out in it any longer this year.

Enjoy your cozy fireplace! We got ours last year, just before winter hit and we LOVE it.

Have a great weekend.
Carolynn

DJan said...

Your fireplace is just lovely! You were smart to get it in the "right" color. Made me laugh out loud at the mental picture of you braking for the woolly caterpillars. I stay out of politics with my friends, since nobody EVER seems to change their minds, me included. :-)

Barb said...

I've missed your posts in all their variety when you took a break. I'm glad you're back - full strength. Your working place is tiresome. I wish you could retire. I rarely talk politics - there is no winning. At this time of year, I abhor both parties.

Olga Hebert said...

I really like your approach to home decoration-get a color that matches the dirt that will accumulate. Really, that is brilliant.

Hilary said...

You're wise to keep out of it for the most part. That kind of remark would frustrate me to no end.

The fireplace looks great and your Molly is such a hoot.

Linda Myers said...

I am sick of the tomatoes. I hope it rains a lot this weekend so we can pull the late-growing fruit down.

I do family history, and one of my seventh cousins is an African-American in Washington DC. I hope he and I can find our common ancestor. I love it when things get all mixed up.

Joslyn Boulden said...

Hi. I'm new to your blog. Enjoy your postings very much. Loved your story about Molly. Sounds like she has quite the personality. We had the luxury of welcoming several dogs and cats into our lives when living on our farm. Each, in their own way, brought us much joy.

Found your stopping for the wooly caterpillar amusing. Pretty sure I wouldn't be quite so polite towards them.

Tom Sightings said...

Whatever else happens, it looks like you'll be warm this winter! (Oh man, I wish I had some of your tomatoes.)

SmitoniusAndSonata said...

In a world where we can trace our family trees back for generations , it's fascinating to see what a mixture so many of us are .
It's surely what makes us all so interesting . I've got a great-great-great granny or two I'd love to meet ....

Friko said...

Just as well that home life is calm and ‘prosaic’; a working life with a boss like yours would make me ill.
It is hard to keep ones mouth shut.

We have a groundswell in the country towards a party which panders to the absolutely lowest common denominator. It’s nasty, narrow, mean and a nightmare.

If it weren’t for the fact that in my private circle people shudder at such opinions I might have to find a hole to crawl into.

Enjoy your fresh tomato juice, at least that’s clean and new and unadulterated and gets rid of the foul taste in your mouth after a session with your boss.