October 10th 
Pumpkins
Pumpkins tugging at their vines,
Pumpkins growing round and green.
Pumpkins hiding in the leaves,
Pumpkins shyly, smooth and clean.
Pumpkins shining in the rain,
Pumpkins plumping in the sun.
Pumpkins blushing underneath,
Turning orange, one by one.
~ Heather Mitchell Amey
(If you've missed the first seven installments, you might want to read them first, here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8.)
What now, you say to yourself...
.....what else could the lady possibly do with these pumpkins? What did the lady do after she harvested the very last pumpkin?
First, she went to the internet and found this site about harvesting pumpkins as well as one called the Pumpkin Nook. Both have a lot of good ideas and information. Guess what? The lady found out that her idea to use a bubble incubator approach was real! The lady had carefully cut the pumpkins off the withered vines, making sure to leave a long stem. She did not carry the pumpkins by the stem but cradled them gently in her arms... and they were heavy.
She wiped off any loose dirt covering the pumpkins. A warm bath was drawn with a 10% chlorine bleach solution and the pumpkins were bathed with a soft cloth, one by one. After rinsing, they were dried and their skins buffed to a shiny glow. Then they were weighed.... Yes, I think this would be the perfect place to put the final tally.
November 1st
Our grand total is nine; nine wonderful fairytale pumpkins. How big? The smallest pumpkin weighed in at four pounds. We have four weighing in at seven pounds each; one ten pounder; two wonderfully shaped at seventeen pounds each and one heavyweight pumpkin coming in at twenty-one pounds. A grand total of 97 pounds worth of wonderful pumpkin.
November 25th
The pumpkins are now curing; that is, they are sitting on soft cushions in the sunroom. The humidity is controlled with a dehumidifier and they get sun most of the day. The lady turns them every other day. Contrary to what some sites told her, the earlier pumpkins have turned fully orange over time. She is hopeful that these last four will also mature over time as well.
What's next for the fairytale pumpkins?
... Now we will explore the "inner" pumpkin and some of the tasty treats in store.
(Only a few more chapters in our story... will we have a happy ending?) (end of post)
China cup. (Click picture for larger view) "We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out." ~ Ray Bradbury
A delicate china cup sits on the marble coffee table, waiting for tea time. Hot tea with a touch of lemon; good for what ails you. The best tea is blended locally in Chicago; served and sold at Russian Tea Time. If you're in Chicago try it, you won't be disappointed. Russian Tea Time is across the street from the Art Institute Museum of Chicago, around the corner from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, two blocks north of the Auditorium Theater and two blocks south of Millennium Park. Enjoy!
Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "cup". (end of post)
Stephen, always the "ham", in the mountains around Bayreuth, Germany.
Picture by Diane S. (Click picture for larger view) "Tenors are noble, pure and heroic and get the soprano, if she has not tragically expired before the final curtain. But baritones are born villains in opera. Always the heavy and never the hero." ~ Leonard Warren (American operatic baritone. 1911-1960)
"If one has not heard Wagner at Bayreuth, one has heard nothing! Take lots of handkerchiefs because you will cry a great deal! Also take a sedative because you will be exalted to the point of delirium!" ~ Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)
Diane was yelling for him to come down but, ever the dramatic, Stephen struck this pose instead. While I stayed at their apartment in New York, Diane and her husband Alec visited my brother in Germany. After his first performance in Wagner's Ring Cycle, they took to the countryside, visiting villages and mountains... a photographer's dream. Of course our mother will be having heart palpitations when she sees this.
Currently he is in Tokyo playing Florestan in Beethoven's Fidelio. His premier is tonight or yesterday or tomorrow. He said it was "tomorrow"; but in Tokyo, our "today" is his "yesterday" so his "tomorrow" might be our "day after tomorrow", or not. At any rate, there are four performances and then he is back to Vienna for a couple of days and then off to Munich where he will play Erik in Wagner's Der fliegende Holländer. So no Christmas visit this year, we will have Christmas in April.
While I haven't seen all his operas, I have seen Fidelio and it is actually one of the few roles he sings where the character is alive at the end and with a happy ending to boot. (He gets the soprano, she makes it out alive as well!) So, good luck little (younger) brother; "break a leg"!! But not literally!
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Potica Bread. It's that time again! "If thou tasteth a crust of bread, thou tasteth all the stars and all the heavens." ~ Robert Browning (1812-1889) English poet
Almost every day I see a site visit from someone searching for "Potica Bread". In the last two weeks the number of "seekers" has increased dramatically; yesterday there were fifteen. It is the season for this fabulous sweet bread, at least in our home. Part of our Christmas tradition for over 25 years now, we have warmed potica bread, bacon and eggs and hot coffee every Christmas morning, before opening packages. A wrapped and ribboned spiral is often given as a special gift to neighbors and friends and very soon the smell of baking bread will fill the house and the taste of cinnamon and brown sugar will mix together in this heavenly treat.
To this end I am including a link to the original recipe I posted last year. I hope this will make it easier to find for anyone who would like to try a loaf. Perhaps it will become a part of your family tradition as well.
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Clover has definitely lost her dignity. (Click picture for larger view) "Be mild with the mild, shrewd with the crafty, confiding to the honest.... But in all this, never be unmindful of your own dignity." ~ John Brown
It is too late!!! Miss Clover must not have realized a camera was in such close proximity. She was sunning in her box from Costco while unceremoniously biting her toenails. How many times have I told you NOT to bite your toenails? On top of this she just HAD to scratch behind her ear! Clover, put your leg down! Not only is your tummy showing, but this is extremely unladylike! Your mother, Suzie, would be most dismayed!! After all, you are a CRITS (Cat Raised In The South); you must remember to maintain decorum! Oh, dear me! When Miss Clover sees this, I'm sure she will be mortified!
I doubt she will ever forgive me for letting this picture get out for Tummy Tuesday over at catstuff. There is also a brand new place for kitties and their human charges to visit at gattina's called Cats on Tuesday.
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Brooklyn brownstones have been beautifully restored.
(Click picture for larger view) "People's personalities, like buildings, have various facades, some pleasant to view, some not." ~ François, Duc De La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680)
The area around Prospect Park has not always been either a safe or beautiful neighborhood. For several years now, new life has been moving in; renovation and restoration of these beautiful old brownstones is ongoing. The colors and ornate details bring character and grace back to Brooklyn and the wide variety of style adds a touch of spice. Sprinkle in the small but beautiful entry garden plots and you have a wonderful place to live. I want to go back again in the spring, perhaps the fall, and .... yes, the winter with snow on the ground would be beautiful too.
Submission for Tuesday Challenge topic "buildings". (end of post)
Pumpkins in the yard, October 20th.
(Click pictures for larger views) "Life itself is a bubble and a skepticism, and a sleep within sleep." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), "Experience," Essays, Second Series (1844).
(If you've missed the first seven installments, you might want to read them first, here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 and Chapter 7.)
The sky is gray as leaves change from green to brilliant gold and red; the cold wind howls and the ground grows cold..... Still four brave pumpkins remain in the patch, clinging to life and refusing to give in. The days are so short and the blossoms and bees now long gone. The lady doesn't know if there is enough time for this fairy tale to end happily. These are the larger pumpkins, but still, most are green. She knows their best chance is to stay on the vines as long as possible; but the vines are withering, the roots give way. What can she do to help!?
November 13
Incubators? The lady will make incubators!! To protect from the wind and the cold and to magnify the warmth of the waning sun of fall! Yes, it might work! What do we need? Strips of that plastic translucent tarp and.... hmm.... yes! We need long spikes, nails to hold the bubble incubators down.... and a hammer. Just three will be fine. Two pumpkins under one and two with their own individual incubator. The lady wrapped her precious pumpkins in their new bubble plastic incubators on November 1st. Here they fell asleep into that deep enchanted sleep, warm and protected.
November 13
The lady had to check the pumpkins every day, removing leaves and water on top of the bubble incubators. She also had to make sure that a little bit of air circulated around them so that they wouldn't spoil. This waiting is so hard! But look......!!!!
November 13
Look what is happening to the pumpkins!!! "My goodness", the lady thought, "this might just work!" Sure enough, slowly... oh, so slowly a change was taking place under those bubbles. At first just shades of yellow peeking out between the green, but then, yes, that lovely orange started to appear. A little more each day.
November 25th
It was a race against time. With each day, more orange appeared and with each passing day the vines withered back and dried up until the lady knew it was time.
November 25th
The lady knew it was time to harvest, now. If she left the pumpkins in the yard they would rot, the rays of sun were no longer guaranteed. The Nor'easters began and temperatures plummeted. Most of the trees have lost their leaves and those that settled on the bubble incubators were no longer bright golds and reds, but rather brittle browns. Yes, it was time to gather the pumpkins.
So, on November 25th, the lady carefully and lovingly removed the bubbles that caressed her remaining pumpkins. She cut the drying stem "umbilical cords" and feeling very much like a third year medical student, delivered her pumpkins, one by one to the dry and safe haven of the garage. Here she would.....
..... Well, I know you thought this was the end but ask yourself these questions....
What do you do with a newly harvested pumpkin?
Are there special handling techniques?
Might they continue to mature inside the house?
How much do fairytale pumpkins weigh?
What do they look like inside?
Can you make something more than pumpkin pies with them?
Now you have these questions, maybe more.... so you'll have to come back for the answers. And if you have any questions, just leave them in the comments. The lady will be back to answer them soon.... She's not quite done yet!
(The tale continues.... but alas, not today... ) (end of post)
Nyssa delighted with her first toy piano. 7 months old.
(Click picture for larger view) "To show a child what once delighted you, to find the child's delight added to your own - this is happiness." ~ Joseph Priestley (English Chemist and Clergyman, 1733-1804)
Nyssa's Aunt Gayle gave her this toy piano and she quickly learned that if she pounded it with her hand, it made "noise". Oh, Yeah!!!! Thanks, Aunt Gayle!! At Grandma's house she found a real piano to pound on, sometimes laughing with delight and other times with such a serious face; furrowed brow, her tongue stuck out and down over her bottom lip as she made musical noise with both hands. Fortunately, we didn't have a "real" piano until she hit kindergarten. She signed up for lessons but Mrs. King warned us that it might be hard as she couldn't read yet. Nyssa was the first kindergarten student she had ever taken on. After her first lesson at school, she hopped in the car and breathlessly said, "Mom, guess what!" As I fervently prayed silently that she had not been expelled her first week of school, I managed to get out a soft, "What?" Her eyes wide she said, "Mrs. King got me for a piano lesson today and it was WONDERFUL!! We have to go buy a piano so I can practice." And so we did.
Submission for Moody Monday topic "delighted." (end of post)
Balancing bird. Brooklyn Botanical Garden.
(Click picture for larger view) "Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony." ~ Thomas Merton
In the Japanese Garden pond stands a brightly painted torii or gateway. This water bird perched with outstretched wings on the thin board, turning his head back and forth as if he knew he had an audience. He was perfectly balanced; his wings did not move nor did his position change for fifteen minutes. Only his head occasionally tilted one way or the other. This is not out of the ordinary, in fact, this same bird repeats his balancing act every day; at least that's what the garden worker told me. I love the contrast between the black wings and the bright orange perch; and, this bird has ATTITUDE! I could almost believe him capable of a Shakespeare soliloquy. Yes, this bird is pretty sure of himself.
Submission for SeeItSunday topic "balance". (end of post)
The measure of time. Town square clock. Salem, Virginia.
(Click picture for larger view) "To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace."
~ Ecclesiastes 3: 1 - 8 (KJV)
Seconds, minutes, hours; the clocks keeps track of time. Time plods on relentlessly, equally measured in ticks of the second hand or the beats of our heart. Yet, to me it seems to accelerate; each year with fewer days, weeks, hours....minutes. Too fast, time passes. Only yesterday Nyssa was a baby. Just last week I was in college. Surely it was only last year that I made mud pies with my friend Mary and jumped out of the apple tree and rode my bicycle for the first time. Not so. But we take heart in knowing that there is a "time to every purpose under the heaven". So we savor those moments of joy, weather the moments of sorrow, and carry on.
The theme for Saturday Photo Scavenger Hunt this week is "time". You can go here to "Grab the Scavenger Hunt code" and here to join the blogroll. The link to other participants is in my blogroll on the sidebar.
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Immature robin chicks. (Click picture for larger view) "You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely." ~ Unknown
These immature robin chicks lack coordination and strength. Their long wobbly necks won't hold their heads up indefinitely and without feathers the chicks cannot fly nor regulate body temperature. Too young and immature, the chicks rely on their parents for food and protection. As evidenced by the wide open mouths, everything in the "robin world" revolves around them. Soon feathers will grow, the nest will become too small and these chicks will test their wings, perhaps with a none to gentle nudge by the parents. Robin chicks will, if they can avoid the pitfalls of weather and predators, mature. If only the same could be said about ALL humans as well.
Submission for PhotoFriday topic "immature". (end of post)
Miss Chloe: Hurry? I don't think so; it's so comfortable here, ya'll.
(Click pictures for larger view) "There is more to life than increasing its speed."
~ Mohandas Gandhi
Miss Chloe doesn't believe in fitting into the hustle and bustle of the world around her. She much prefers the quiet life; a discreet nibble or two at the food dish, a sip of water from the water bowl or the bathroom sink, and a nap. Actually, many many naps. The bed is fine or the bean bag chair or even the floor; but on the floor some sun must be involved. Miss Chloe walks, quietly; she never runs, never interjects herself into other "catty" arguments, always remaining above the fray. Not that she's perfect, oh no! Miss Chloe does have her moments with her sister, but these are usually private disagreements and quickly resolved. Slow to speak, long pauses with squinted eyes, she is my true Southern lady.
Shhhhh! Miss Chloe is getting her beauty sleep. She'll be boarding Friday's Ark this week and also partying over at the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday. The carnival is hosted this week by Scribblings. (end of post)
Psalms 98:4 ~ Shout joyfully to the LORD, all the earth;
Break forth in song, rejoice, and sing praises. (NKJV) All Things Bright and Beautiful
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.
The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
He made them, high or lowly,
And ordered their estate.
The purple headed mountains,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning
That brightens up the sky.
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,
He made them every one.
The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
To gather every day.
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.
~ Cecil F. Alexander
(Click pictures for larger view)
On this Thanksgiving Day we pause to remember the blessings of the year and to give thanks. I am thankful for life, health, family, friends, the beauty of nature, and many more things too numerous to count. Most of all, I am thankful for God's creation, God's love and His ultimate sacrifice for me. What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving?
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Rocking chairs. Somewhere in West Virginia. (Click picture for larger view) "You're getting old when you get the same sensation from a rocking chair that you once got from a roller coaster." ~ Unknown
Rocking chairs sitting on the porch waiting for warm bodies on a crisp fall day; see the beautiful fall colors in the mountains? What could be more relaxing than to quietly sit and rock and take in nature's gifts? Not much.
Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "chair". (end of post)
Plumbago auriculata. (Cape plumbago, leadwort)
Brooklyn Botanical Garden. August 2006.
(Click picture for larger view) Fragmentary Blue
Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.
~ Robert Frost (1874-1963)
Outside the cold wind is howling, driving rain pelts the windows and ten foot high waves are crashing in from the ocean. Gale and flood warnings are out through the holiday and into Friday. This wind twisting from the southeast to east to northeast, will bring an end to the fall leaves. Even now they are flying and whirling through the air and across the grass. Some settle in the pooled water at the curb while others gather in piles along the fence.
The colors of fall are fading; from deep reds and yellows to drab shriveled browns. Only the recently planted pansies and the chrysanthemums still brighten the landscape. This Cape Plumbago grew in the temperate climate greenhouse of the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, and its limbs were heavy with these clusters of light blue blooms. In the midst of a cold "Nor'easter", this picture brings sun and warmth and a touch of summer.
Submission for LensDay topic "blue". (end of post)
Maggie, a tummy uncovered. (Click picture for larger view) "Learning to ignore things is one of the great paths to inner peace." ~ Robert J. Sawyer
Maggie doesn't really like me. She would rather be an only cat, pampered and spoiled by her daddy; the problem being the fact that her "dad" is also mine. So suddenly, she had to share her space and her "parents" with six other cats and two additional humans, not to mention Max, that hairy barking thing outside the sunroom door. The intruders took over her sunroom where she used to lie in sweet repose as the sun streamed in. They took over her food bowls, nibbling at will and creating the dreaded "sink hole" in her special bowl. They took over her favorite sleeping lounger and her "mom's" bed and the living room couch. They even took over her "mom's" affection; someone was always lounging on the arm of her chair or gazing into her eyes or settling in on her lap.
For a long time she would hide under the bed or under a chair in a far corner. Nicky tried to make friends; he followed her around like a puppy dog, (sorry Max) and patiently took all her snarls and hisses and swats. Everyone else avoids her, well, except Willow; also a Ragdoll, she pesters her. Willow hides on the shelf above Maggie's litter box and when Maggie goes inside to use the facilities, Willow pops out and hangs her head over the edge, looking into the box, cat face to cat face. This ALWAYS freaks Maggie out!
Her kitty nemeses spend the night in the sunroom; after their 9 PM trek through the house to their barracks, Maggie feels free to roam the house. This is the time she rolls on bare feet, does her begging act for her "dad" and plays with the toys. It is also the time she pauses for an undignified spread on the carpeted floor. She's ignoring me, concentrating on something in her paw. She's thinking.... "Ignoring is bliss!"
I'm sorry! Maggie has a hard time getting her quotes right, but she did a good job showing her tummy to the world; or at least to the cats and humans for Tummy Tuesday, over at catstuff. She'll be boarding Friday's Ark this week and also partying over at the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday. The carnival is hosted this week by Scribblings.
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Moonlight in Sherwood Forest. (Click picture for larger view) "A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." ~ Oscar Wilde
When the moon is full and its orbit close to the earth, moonlight bathes the trees and rooftops in a bright glow. On those rare nights you may see your moon shadow along the ground; a faint, but dark Siamese twin attached to your feet. The air is usually crisp and cold, perhaps a bit of silvery white frost is on the grass and with each breath out, a cloud winds skyward around your head. It is a night bright with moonlight; perfect for a walk and a bit of stargazing.
Submission for Tuesday Challenge topic "moonlight". (end of post)
Buster S. and his "baby". (1992 - 2006) Rest in peace. Memories
Not the least hard thing to bear when
they go from us, these quiet friends,
is that they carry away with them so
many years of our lives. Yet, if they
find warmth therein, who would
begrudge them those years that they
have so guarded?
And whatever they take,
be sure they have deserved.
~ John Galsworthy
My friend Miss M, lost her best friend yesterday, November 19th. He was a friend who had been with her through the ups and downs of life for fourteen years. On occasion we wondered about Buster; his fondness for his "baby" that he used as his personal pacifier and his amazing ability to clear a room after eating that spicy hot dog from Sonic. (Whew! He had powerful "fluffs"!)
But Buster had such a gentle soul. He never met a child he didn't like and he loved Little Miss M the most. She dressed him in the latest fashion and he always loved those accessories. Only a special dog would allow this.
Not only did Buster love people; he loved cats. Why, some of his best friends were cats! Stoney and Clovis snuggled and loved on him; they also jumped on his back and boxed his nose, but Buster just basked in the attention. Somehow, the kittens sparked that puppy still buried deep inside of his spirit.
In the end Buster was far more ill than anyone knew; it came on suddenly and even he didn't seem to realize it. So his passing, while too sudden for his human family left behind, was quick and painless. This is the best we can hope for our animal friends.
Now Buster has met up with my long gone Dixie, Dottie and Barney, in a big green field with brightly colored flowers and scampering squirrels; fresh running streams of water and endless kibble. There they will play without being tired, sleep without being cold and run under the warm sun without being hungry. He is happy. He is safe.
Good-bye "Budder", good-bye.
Miss M has pictures posted at her site "stinkerbell". Today she has a big hole in her heart, as does everyone who ever knew Buster.
Buster's memorial will be up at Friday's Ark and at the Carnival of the Dogs. Buster was a one of a kind friend. (end of post)
November's russet leaf. (Click picture for larger view) "The dusky waters shudder as they shine,
The russet leaves obstruct the straggling way
Of oozy brooks, which no deep banks define,
And the gaunt woods, in ragged scant array,
Wrap their old limbs with sombre ivy twine.
~ Hartley Coleridge, November
The leaves have turned and with the wind many have given up and floated to the ground. I still found color in the forest around Williamsburg; and color floating in the meandering stream flowing through my favorite little park. The water is brackish, a mixture of fresh and backwater from the Chesapeake Bay; it is never very blue, but now the shallows flow slowly with a brownish hue from the muddy bottom. In summer, the green water plants cover this area and butterflies abound sucking nectar from pink blooms. Now sea grass and the occasional cattail remain, trapping the larger leaves as they float with the current. A few more weeks now and the forest will take on it's thin skeleton look. Until then I'll cling to every last bit of color we have, however small and seemingly insignificant. Wouldn't you?
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High-rise window washing. (Click picture for larger view) "It is not real work unless you would rather be doing something else." ~ J.M. (James Matthew) Barrie (1860-1937), British playwright
A hot summer day, the sun beating down relentlessly and these two fellows are about twenty floors up. outside the high rise office building, washing windows. This has got to be hard and tedious work; not for the faint of heart nor for those who fear heights. Sometimes thankless, definitely tiring but it has to be one great view from up there.
Submission for SeeItSunday topic "work". (end of post)
