A Pumpkin Tale Part 6: I Spy Something Orange

September 21 (Click all pictures for larger view)

Theme in Yellow
I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o'-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.
~ Carl Sandburg

(If you've missed the first five installments, you might want to read them first, here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5.)

One day the lady started to see splashes of color in the pumpkin patch...... Not just the green of the broad leaves or the bright yellow of the billowy flowers, but touches of orange on the speckled green skins of the oldest pumpkins.


September 21

All four early pumpkins were turning orange and it took all the will power and restraint the lady could muster to keep from plucking those little coach pumpkins right then and there. So she took a deep breath, stepped back and surveyed the rest of her crop.


Composite ~ September 15

While the four smaller pumpkins were gradually ripening, more baby pumpkins began to grow. One in the front of the house was as large as the one under the bush, smaller ones grew to the size of grapefruit and two others appeared just larger than the original; one in the flowerbed and the other nestled down in the grass hidden by the wide expanse of leaves.


September 21 (L), October 4 (R)

Some grew fast, while others grew slow. Some days it seemed as if new pumpkins were springing up by the hour. How many do we have this morning? Let's see.... four, five, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen! Alas, some of these seemed to grow for a while, then shrivel and die. The lady had noticed that one pumpkin right next to a very large pumpkin had stopped growing. The lady had placed the little pumpkin on a board with the thought that it would keep water away, but it did the opposite; and when the pumpkin was turned it had started to rot in one small spot. But the lady's mom thought we could still use the pumpkin; so it was plucked, properly washed and weighed (8 pounds) and when cut yielded a pale but delicious meat for pie, so it did not grow in vain.


September 26

Meanwhile the vines were not yet done. The lady diligently pinched the ends of new offshoot vines as they started but at times she felt it was a losing battle! Vines continued to grow under, as well as up and over the bushes. Was there no end? Well.....


September 27

The lady could contain her desire no longer. She had thumped the pumpkin with the most color for several days. It sounded hollow to her; although she had to admit that they all sounded hollow, even the ones that were totally green. She checked the growing times estimated on the internet; got her handy utility scissors and clipped the pumpkin from the vine, being sure to leave a good stem attached.


October 4

The lady checked every day, sometimes twice and slowly she gave in as she picked another and another; until she had gathered in all the precious pumpkins, at least the ones that were ready. She washed the dirt off carefully and cleaned the skin with a solution of 10% bleach (did you know you were to do that?) and buffed them dry. Then she put them in the sunroom to "cure" for at least ten days; here they will be safe and sound and beautiful too.... don't you think?


October 10

Each pumpkin weighs about 7 pounds and will soon be part of our pumpkin pies; their seeds will be cleaned and dried and safely tucked away to see what they produce next year. Today is Halloween. They will not be subject to any "smashing" and I plan to stake out my pumpkin patch to prevent any smashing there as well.

You see this tale isn't ended yet. Pumpkins still hang in the balance. Tragedies have yet to be disclosed and the final results are not yet in. What happened to the huge dark green pumpkin under the bush? What about the new ones hidden in the grass? How long will it be before they mature or will they?

You'll have to come back to see the saga to its end; so here is just a tidbit of things to come..........


October 4. Is that a touch of orange I see?

(To be continued....... but not today.)
(High pitch "evil stepmother" laugh.... fading, stage right and end of post)

Tummy "Twister" or Someone Call Me An Ambulance

Nicky:Tummy "Twister" champion! (Click picture for larger view)

"Although all cat games have their rules and rituals, these vary with the individual player. The cat, of course, never breaks a rule. If it does not follow precedent, that simply means it has created a new rule and it is up to you to learn it quickly if you want the game to continue." ~ Sidney Denham

OK Nicky, I think this game of "Twister" has gotten out of hand. I can't tell which end is which and which is sideways or up or down and... well, you aren't helping matters by taking a nap! Just because it's easy for you to get into this position, doesn't mean you can rub my nose in it by sleeping while I try to figure out the "right hand on red three and left foot on blue four" move. Doesn't that make your neck hurt? Uh Oh, Nicky!? Nicky!? I think you better call me an ambulance! I think I pulled or popped something!!! This is the last time I play "Twister" with you, sonny boy!

Nicky "twisted" my arm so now he's heading on over to Tummy Tuesday at catstuff. Later this week he'll hop on Friday's Ark and take a spin at the Carnival of the Cats, hosted by Crazy Meezer this week. You know, I really think Nicky cheats at "Twister", I just can't seem to prove it.

(end of post)

Who Knows Halloween?

The Shadow Knows

"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly;
'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there.

Alas, alas! How very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue --
Thinking only of her crested head -- poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor -- but she ne'er came out again!

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counselor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly."
~ Mary Howitt (1799-1888)
The Spider and the Fly (l. 1-4, 34 - 44)

Carved pumpkins, black cats, goblins, children dressed as princesses, superheroes, cowboys and cats; lawns decorated with orange lights, scarecrow, bats and those tacky blow up monsters and ghosts.... Yes, it's Halloween! A few trees have filmy white strands hanging from their branches and giant pipecleaner and styrofoam spiders dangling close by. Not so at our house. The huge garden spiders have been busy weaving giant webs, night after night, quietly they spin; lost, hidden in the darkness....only their SHADOW gives them away.

Welcome, brave "trick or treaters"!
(Add sound effects: maniacal laughter in the dark, howling wolves in the distance)

Submission for Moody Monday topic "dark". (end of post)

Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves. (Click picture for larger view)

"Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods
Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt."
~ William Allingham,
Day and Night Songs--Autumnal Sonnet

Some of the trees are still full with green leaves and others, those early changers are almost bare after forty mile an hour winds last night. At the curb these castaways gather in gentle mounds, waiting for rake or blower or mulcher to sweep them away. Even our pine tree was no match for the wind as a large branch broke and fell beside the sunroom; how then do the leaves with such delicate stems stand firm, some to the very end? I just love the mystery of Nature.

Submission for SeeItSunday topic "leaves". (end of post)

The Accidental Sunset or "An Accident Going Somewhere To Happen"

Accidental sunset. (Click picture for larger view)

"Confidence is the illusion born of accidental success." ~ unknown

This was an accident. Well. Not really an accidental sunset; I expected the sunset, but driving down a long, flat stretch of Midwestern prairie after ten or twelve hours of the same, was becoming monotonous. I decided to take some pictures. Yes, while I was driving. No I do not talk on the cell phone while driving but I do take pictures and try not to over steer so as not to get that adrenaline, accident causing yell of "OOOOOOHHHHHH" from the front passenger seat. That is where my mom is asleep as I take this. Most of the time I have to balance the camera on the steering wheel, try to aim at something, click and hope for the best. No flash; learned that the hard way.

Anyway, the sun was bright in my eyes as it set and slightly to the south of the highway. The flat Illinois plains with scattered trees was a great backdrop and as long as my camera faced forward and only slightly to the left, the focus would be pretty good. Another tidbit; don't bother with pictures out of a side window, with no flash there is just too much motion blur. I snapped off about twenty five pictures, not really paying attention to the composition; I was trying to keep an eighteen wheeler from running over our van at the same time. About eight of them were pretty good. Here, though a bridge managed to get in the way. I almost chucked it but, the sun was just settling behind the concrete structure and those elongated rays seemed to emanate from behind and the halo was really pretty great. Of course the foreground was too dark, but this gave the ordinary overpass bridge a mysterious feeling. I kept it.

So there, now you know. I often point in a general direction, through a window with bug spatterings; let the camera focus and click the shutter. I deal with the "delete" button later. On occasion something spectacular will pop up when I least expect it!

Submission for PhotoFriday topic "accidental". (end of post)

Migration Time

Bird Season: Chloe and Rhett quietly observing the chaos.
(Click picture for larger view)

"There is always music amongst the trees in the garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it." ~ Minnie Aumonier

Migration; fall migration is here. Some of the Canadian geese fly further south, others winter here. Now are the days of the blackbird gathering noisily in trees behind the fence; they come by the hundreds and fly from tree to yard and back again; loud, noisy and obnoxious. The wren and chickadee are back, singing in my bush, eating safflower seeds and thistle. I opened the window and instantly the cats knew that birds were out there, just on the other side of the screen. They watch intensely, quietly, all muscles ready to spring into action at any movement; but, the little bird plucks his seed and sits... pecking and pecking, cracking the tiny nut and enjoying the tender meat, within inches of the stealthy cats. I wonder if they know they are being watched; if they feel the breath of the Rhett and Chloe through the thin barrier. Soon, these tiny noise makers will fly away and leave behind kitties, sad to lose their motion picture show. Don't fret for them though; the katydids and crickets will keep them entertained for another month!

Chloe and Rhett will be watching the birds and other animals at Friday's Ark and the cats over at the Carnival of the Cats, that is hosted this week by Watermark.

(end of post)

Autumn's Blush

Autumn's blush, not yet on fire.
(Click picture to see larger view)

"Autumn's earliest frost had given
To the woods below
Hues of beauty, such as heaven
Lendeth to its bow;
And the soft breeze from the west
Scarcely broke their dreamy rest."
~ John Greenleaf Whittier

There was frost on the windshield this morning, although not officially. A cold wind blew all day churning up whitecaps on the ocean; it was not a good day to be out fishing in a small boat. Even the Canadian geese have made themselves scarce today. While the fall colors have reached peak in the Blue Ridge, they are still approaching here. In another week or two, these colors will be burning.

Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "Autumn". (end of post)

Night Sky

I see the moon, the moon sees me.
(Click picture for larger view)

"Night comes, world-jeweled, . . .
The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage
War with the lines of Darkness; and the moon,
Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth
After the sun's red sea-death - quietless.
~ Philip James Bailey, Festus
(sc. Garden and Bower by the Sea)

The moon rises in a crisp clear night sky, stars twinkle, the cool breeze winds through the trees and their limbs sway as leaves rustle together. Somewhere down the street a dog barks, another answers and the first replies. The autumn sounds of late crickets, migrating chick-a-dees and the fading call of the blackbird join in the music of the night.

Submission for LensDay topic "night". (end of post)

Banana Belly

Miss Chloe's Banana Belly (Click picture for larger view)

"Of all domestic animals the cat is the most expressive. Her face is capable of showing a wide range of expressions. Her tail is a mirror of her mind. Her gracefulness is surpassed only by her agility. And, along with all these, she has a sense of humor."
~ Walter Chandoha

Miss Chloe loves the catnip banana; this is the third one we've had to get her. She tosses it, licks it, rubs her face on it and here, exhausted, she hugs her banana tightly to her tummy. No one else will have this banana! NO WAY!

Will Chloe go to sleep? Will she give up the banana? Will Clover steal it away? Will she put it down long enough to visit Friday's Ark and the Carnival of the Cats this week? By the way, the carnival is hosted this week by Watermark

This is my Tummy Tuesday submission at catstuff. (end of post).

Green On Green

Poppy bud. (Click picture for larger view)

The bowed head of a poppy, not yet in bloom; its bud still green. Green on green; leaves, stem, bud, fine silky hairs that capture the morning dew. The green of Spring and Summer now quickly passing. This bud has long since bloomed with crinkled blood-red petals that faded into small brown seed pods; the lush, vibrant green, now gone. And so we again, patiently wait for Spring.

Submission for Tuesday Challenge topic "green". (end of post)

Bubblegum And Blueberries

Bubblegum pink and blueberry blue.
(Click pictures for larger views)

"An optimist is a driver who thinks that empty space at the curb won't have a hydrant beside it." ~ Jules Renard (French Writer, 1864-1910)

This "shocking pink" hydrant is inside the fenced compound of a Jack Rabbit storage unit. Yes, the same unit where most of my life remains in boxes. I guess, since this is on private property, they may paint it any color they wish. Can't say I've ever seen one this color though. A few months later I noticed that someone had rethought this..........



I think the red is a little bit better than the pink, but someone is going to have to do something with that blue. And now for the informational portions of this post...



This hydrant was manufactured by the Mueller company of Albertville, Alabama. The "Centurion" model designation refers to those made between 1975 and 1987. These have either "S.R." or "A.S.R." cast on the top of the bonnet rim. This is the model currently in production.

Mueller Company was formed in Decatur, Illinois in 1857. (This is only about 30 miles from my dad's home turf) Mueller made a wide variety of products but it was 1933, when they bought Columbia Iron Works, before hydrants became a part of their product line. Columbian Iron Works manufactured fire hydrants beginning in 1908 and was located in Chattanooga, Tennessee. In 1975, the fire hydrant plant was moved from Chattanooga, TN to a new facility Albertville, AL.

Other fire hydrant posts include Fire Hydrants ~ One and A Splash of Blue. (end of post)

Dandelion

Dandelion seeds. Macro. (Click picture for larger view)

"No creature is fully itself till it is, like the dandelion, opened in the bloom of pure relationship to the sun, the entire living cosmos." ~ D.H. Lawrence

The autumn winds are blowing and the last dandelions of the season struggle to grow. The feathery little seeds fly off with the breeze to other yards, other flowerbeds, other fields; there to lie dormant, in wait for Spring. Sometimes we are like the floating dandelion seed; blown by the events around us or waiting patiently in the darkness of uncertainty for that light and warmth of new beginnings. As I am certain that Spring follows Winter; I know there is that promise of hope, a new beginning.

Submission for MacroDay topic "black & white". (end of post)

The Un-usual Suspects

The Un-usual Suspects: #1 - Lewis; #2 - Jerry; #3 - John; #4 - Loren
(Click pictures for larger view)

"When brothers agree, no fortress is so strong as their common life." ~ Antisthenes (Greek philosopher of Athens, 445-365 BC)

On Friday the 13th, I drove my parents to Flora, Illinois for a 50th wedding anniversary party. This is the third in my dad's family. My mom and dad were married in 1951, celebrating 55 years together this year. In June we made the trip for Uncle Jerry and Aunt Orpha's 50th and last weekend we celebrated Uncle John and Aunt Laura Beth's 50th. Next May will be Uncle Lewis and Aunt Jean's 50th.

These four boys grew up on the family farm. Two became farmers and masterful mechanics. One became an engineer and the other, a minister. It had been six years since all four had been together and we didn't get a picture of them in June; so my aunt wanted a picture. They're men. That in itself explains almost anything they do. They are more comfortable discussing childhood escapades and telling stories of stream cooled watermelon breaks on hot summer days; or how many acres of soy beans or corn they had planted, than they are posing for a portrait.

Let's face it. There is nothing "natural" looking about this group pose. I can imagine they had this same look when Grandma lined them up on Sunday to check their clothes and make sure they were clean behind the ears before going down the road to church. As the cameras flashed from all sides, the thought struck me, "Hey! They really look like they are suspects in a police lineup!" This made me giggle and an idea popped into my head. Maybe it's not dignified and perhaps no one else saw the humor in it but........ I just couldn't help it!


The Un-usual Suspects in profile.

(end of post)

Days of Innocence

Nyssa. 1986. 3 months old.
(Click picture for larger view)

"Little Lamb who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?"
~ William Blake, Songs of Innocence (1789) "The Lamb"

The young child seeing her world for the first time. Wide innocent looking eyes focus on faces, brightly colored toys, even her own fingers and toes; take in everything. So much to process, so much to learn, so much life ahead. There are days I wish time could be rolled back so that different choices could be made, different paths followed. Other days, I wouldn't change a thing; well, almost nothing.

Submission for PhotoFriday topic "innocence". (end of post)

A Pumpkin Tale: Part 5 - While We Were Waiting!

September 2 (Click all pictures for larger view)

"I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion." ~ Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

(If you've missed the first four installments, you might want to read them first, here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, and Chapter 4.)

At this point, the lady thought these five pumpkins would be the only crop; but then.....
......the vines continued to grow and the flowers, both male and female, continued to bloom; the bees and fruit flies continued to arrive. The vines were on their way to the street so the lady turned them gently to the front of the house. After consulting the internet, she pinched off the ends, trying to curb the growth. This worked for a bit, but side shoots and vines simply took off at right angles to the main vines.

Sadly, the lady found the smallest, tiny, baby pumpkin sitting free in the yard; it had broken away from the stem and quickly softened and shriveled. Perhaps the lawn mower had hit it, perhaps a stray foot. The lady was sad but then she made an exciting discovery....


September 4

Under the prickly, variegated holly bush at the front edge of the flowerbed (bush at the right edge of the first picture above) was a small pumpkin. It was hanging, suspended in air from a vine that grew up through the holly bush; the end of the vine had grown out of the top of the bush and now headed towards the front yard. The little pumpkin was three inches across, the stem bearing the weight; surely it too would be lost! The weather was great, a few thunderstorms with lightning and rain and the little pumpkin grew in spurts; at times it seemed to double in size over night.


September 21

It grew and grew and to keep it from breaking the stem and falling under its own weight, the lady placed two bricks very carefully under the pumpkin. And it grew and grew some more; finally becoming the largest pumpkin in the whole patch, sheltered by the holly bush. This pumpkin is perfectly shaped with the typical deep grooves and with an even, dark green skin; and it is three times as big as the first batch.


September 15

While the lady watched over her "perfect" pumpkin, she found two little pre-pumpkins sitting in the grass of the front yard. Yes, they were on the "pinched" vine and right next to each other. The flowers opened, bees came and the little bulbs began to grow.


September 21

These two little pumpkins began to grow at a fantastic rate. Within a week they were as big as the seven inch pumpkins and a few days later, even larger. One grew to about nine inches and the other, as large as the sheltered pumpkin. Both were growing "bottoms up" with stems down into the grass. The lady was afraid this would be a problem, so she gently slid two thin boards under each one. (Note to any future pumpkin growers: This is not a good idea. Instead of filtering away the water, the boards trapped it and the smaller pumpkin quit growing and started to break down. The boards were removed.)

Now the lady had established pumpkins and new pre-pumpkins sprouting up every day; the vines so thick and the leaves so broad that seeing all of them was difficult! The pumpkin count changed daily, sometimes twice daily!

And what has become of the remaining (4) pumpkins of the original group? Well......


September 15

The pumpkin in the flowerbed is definitely turning orange and those in the grass.... a hint of yellow just starting. Oh! The excitement! Pumpkins turning colors, pumpkins growing to enormous size, pumpkins beginning every day, flowers blooming, vines growing .... and all from sixteen little seeds!

And the questions keep coming! How do you know a pumpkin is ripe? When do you pick it? What do you do with it after you pick it? Are the requirements different for "Fairytale" pumpkins than regular ones? How long will these flowers keep blooming and how long will these try to make pumpkins? Will the fruit flies ever go away?

Again we wait......

(To be continued.... but again, not today)

Through Darkness To Light

Dark tunnel. Prospect Park. Brooklyn, NY.
(Click picture for larger view)

"The dark today leads into light tomorrow;
There is no endless joy,
...and yet no endless sorrow."
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox (American poet and writer 1850-1919)

The path leads into a dark tunnel. Though short and the end easily seen, the tunnel is still dark. No one can see details in the dark. No one can see someone hidden in the corners or potholes on the path or obstacles in the way. The blazing bright light of a hot summer day only deepens the darkness ahead. Ironic? Not really. A light from without enhances the darkness; only a light from within dispels it.

Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "dark". (end of post)

Nicky Saves Space..... For Himself

Nicky takes a rest. (Click picture for larger view)

"You can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count."
~ Winnie the Pooh, The House at Pooh Corner

Mr. Nicky bares his tummy for all to see. He's happy, relaxed, comfortable, warm, full, absolutely perfect... except... Maggie won't give him the time of day. In fact, no one will snuggle close and sleep with him. So, he does the next best thing; stretches his body out as long as possible, tummy side up and takes up over half of the love seat. Are you going to move so I can sit down? Not likely.

Nicky shows his tummy at Tummy Tuesday along with the other kitties. He will be boarding Friday's Ark with said tummy on Friday and bop on over to see the cats they round up at the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday. The carnival is hosted this week by Catcall. I hope he doesn't try to take up as much space there.
(end of post)

A Time To Be Messy

Nyssa. 1987. First birthday.
(Click picture for larger view)

" I am thankful for the mess to clean after a party because it means I have been surrounded by friends." ~ Nancie J. Carmody

It is a time honored tradition, the first birthday. This seems to be the one birthday where it is acceptable; no, it is required that the birthday baby get dirty! The parents set a cake with icing and one candle in front of the child. After blowing out the candle, the parents wait with camera poised. At first the birthday boy/girl sits there, eyes glancing between the parents and the cake with a quizzical expression that says, "And am I supposed to play with this?" Mom and Dad will encourage their offspring to go ahead; perhaps even going so far as to place a little hand on the plate, or a tiny finger in the icing. The mental light bulb goes off and little hands take over. Some children may pat the cake, icing flying off into the floor as they giggle; some may rub the cake and icing on their face and a small bite of cake may actually get into the mouth; still others have been known to not use hands at all, but to bury their faces in the icing. Much laughter is involved, no matter the technique. Don't try to deny it parents, you have one of these pictures too, don't you?

Submission for Moody Monday topic "party". (end of post)

A Very Hungry Caterpillar This Way Passed

The caterpillar ate itself out of house and home.
(Click picture for larger view)

"To eat is to appropriate by destruction."
~ Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980)

Last fall, my dad planted six small collard plants and they all died; at least that is what we thought. This past spring, one small plant with only three leaves took hold and began to grow. Each leaf developed into a branch and soon the plant was lush with gorgeous, broad green leaves. His hope was to wait until the plant flowered and collect the seeds. Then the silver butterflies came and laid their eggs and the yellow butterflies came and laid their eggs; suddenly the plant was over run with caterpillars. There were those whose green color camouflaged them on the leaf and others with silver white stripes and yellow dots; big ones, small ones, and all hungry. They ate voraciously, going through ten inch leaves overnight. We sprayed, they came back; again and again, all summer. Finally we gave up, the collard plant looked like a Halloween skeleton; even the center developing leaves looked withered. One day, just as quickly as they came, the caterpillars vanished. Now there may be a little hope on the horizon for the collard plant. It still looks anemic; a small bunch of healthy leaves growing a top the destruction. Who knows? Dad may get some seed out of this plant yet?

Submission for PhotoFriday topic "destruction". (end of post)

King Of The Household Jungle

Mr. Rhett: The lion roars. (or squeaks)
(Click picture for larger view)

"We tie bright ribbons around their necks, and occasionally little tinkling bells, and we affect to think that they are as sweet and vapid as the coy name "kitty" by which we call them would imply. It is a curious illusion. For purring beside our fireplaces and pattering along our back fences, we have got a wild beast as uncowed and uncorrupted as any under heaven." ~ Alan Devoe

Mr. Rhett, showing off his "king of the jungle" look, is just a mild mannered fellow at heart. His "meows" are more like "ows" or even silent; but he speaks volumes with his eyes. He is, however, a busy body. When a spat arises between the other cats, Rhett is the first to jump into the fray and get off his two cents worth; this usually involves a couple of right crosses. All this done with a body posture that screams "retreat, retreat"! Ok, Rhett, we won't tell Sophie. I know you want to keep up your "strong silent type" persona for her.

Mr. Rhett will be boarding Friday's Ark and nose on over to the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday as well. The carnival is hosted this week by The House of the (Mostly) Black Cats. (end of post)

A Light From Within

"View of Oyster Bay, 1908". Stained glass by Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933).
Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Click picture for larger view)

"People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."
~ Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

The Metropolitan Museum of Art is home to several gorgeous and amazing works in stained glass, glass mosaics and art glass. All were wonderful but this was my favorite; perhaps it is the smooth calm of the water or the rocky shore beyond the lake, but more than likely it is the winding vines of wisteria. See how the flower clusters drape across the broad black leading that separates the window into sections; as if they were the wooden arbors covering a patio? Yes, wisteria is one of my favorite flowers; delicate, regal and gone all too soon.

Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "glass". (end of post)

Portrait In Innocence

Bathtime portrait. 1987. 35mm film. (Click picture for larger view)

"The countenance is the portrait of the soul, and the eyes mark its intentions." (Latin. Imago animi vultus est, indices oculi.)
~ Cicero (106 B.C. - 43 B.C.)

I remember this face; these big, round, open eyes and that intense determination in the set jaw. This is the face before words get in the way; while communication was still a puzzle and needs were simple. Even now, although the face is thinner, the jaw reshaped with braces and the ears less elf-like; much remains the same. That firm determined look and that steady gaze are still present. Now we have words, but communication is still often a puzzle. I loved this face from the moment I first saw it; all puffy from nine months in hibernation. I love this face now. And more, I love the soul behind these eyes.

Submission for LensDay topic "portrait". (end of post)

A Cross-eyed Kitty's Tummy

Miss Chloe seems surprised. (Click picture for larger view)

"I put down my book, The Meaning of Zen,
and see the cat smiling into her fur as she
delicately combs it with her rough pink tongue.
"Cat, I would lend you this book to study
but it appears you have already read it."
She looks up and gives me her full gaze.
"Don't be ridiculous" she purrs, "I wrote it."
~ From "Miao" by Dilys Laing

I think I surprised Miss Chloe with this shot. She was lounging in a sunbeam, minding her own business and there it was, that little red light blinking on her tummy. Is that a look of indignation in that face? One can never really tell what goes on behind those crossed eyes. Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. Maybe some tactical planning to revenge this latest disruption of her solitude. Maybe it would be best for me not to know.

Miss Chloe is showing her tummy at catstuff's Tummy Tuesday. Since we will be out of pocket on Friday, she will sneak aboard Friday's Ark and head on over to the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday as well. The carnival is hosted this week by The House of the (Mostly) Black Cats. Doesn't that sound fascinating? (end of post)

The Days Are Short.....

...in the heart of a rose. Shot in "sepia" mode.
(Click picture for larger view)

"They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream."
~ Ernest Dowson, 1867 - 1900

The small rose bush is entwined with pumpkin vines, yet continues to bloom. A small climbing rose with blood red flowers; the buds open quickly and just as quickly, petals float gently to the ground. This rose caught just before the petals drop, a small teardrop of rain remains to say "good-bye".

I really like this rose much better in the sepia tone. It feels old, antique. Submission to SeeItSunday for topic "sepia". (end of post)

It Takes Two To Tango

Spring, when a young ladybug's fancy turns to other things. Macro.
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"Ideas are, in truth, forces. Infinite, too, is the power of personality. A union of the two always makes history." ~ Henry James, Jr. (1843 - 1916) English author

Two ladybugs in spring; these little gems are a welcome sight in any garden, eating aphids right and left. I knew one gardener who bought a batch each spring to sprinkle around his roses. One year a swarm descended on our town. Ladybugs were in garages, attics, windowsill; thousands of them. I doubt the gardener had to purchase any that year, just sweep them up and relocate.

Submission for MacroDay topic "two". (end of post)

Give Me A Head Of Hair

Give me a head of hair.... long, beautiful hair.
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"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." ~ Kahlil Gibran

The "hair" before the "extreme makeover"; hers grows so fast it won't take long to get to this length again. I love the girl under this head of hair; I would give my life for her. Sometimes I wonder if choices I made were the right ones; the ones to help her grow up with the strength of character she will need in life; to be able to discern the truth of what is right and wrong and to stand firm. This mop of hair covers a smart, beautiful and kind girl. It's in there, I shouldn't worry. But I'm still a Mom. It's still my job to worry. Someday she will understand this, when her daughter's cascading curls stand right in front of her, and she begins to wonder.

Submission for PXITE topic "hair". (end of post)

A Pumpkin Tale: Part 4 - Should I Notify My Fairy Godmother Yet?

August 12. Pumpkin patch gone wild.
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The trouble is, you cannot grow just one pumpkin. Minutes after you plant a single seed, hundreds of pumpkins will barge out of the ground and sprawl around the garden, menacing the other vegetables. At night, you will be able to hear the ground quake as more and more pumpkins erupt. ~ Dave Barry (my personal variation on his zucchini quote)

(If you've missed the first three installments, you might want to read them first, here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3.)

The lady was away for two long weeks.....
....unable to check on her cherished pumpkin patch. Would the vines be dry and brown from the heat of early August? Were there any pumpkins? Could the lawn guy still get to the back yard through the gate? All she had heard were rumors of vines growing out of control and things that could be pumpkins, but no count.

The lady finally returned to find... pumpkin vines gone wild! They had doubled in length, intertwined and put down secondary roots anchoring themselves to over half of the side yard.


Wrapping round the roses.

Two vines had remained in the flowerbed, growing towards the front of the house, under the boxwood, around the small rose bush and behind the holly and evergreen at the corner. One of these vines then turned at a ninety degree angle and started its march down the front flowerbed.


Marching round the corner and down the front of the house.

The wide pumpkin leaves formed a canopy over the ground below, hiding what might be lurking there; but the lady was determined to see if perchance the bees had been successful in their pollen transfers. So she looked and searched and looked and there they were.....



Four pumpkins!!!! One in the flowerbed under the boxwood, one in the front flowerbed next to the begonias and two in the grass of the side yard. The largest measured about six inches and she could see the deep grooves of the "fairytale" pumpkin. The skins were still fragile, green and speckled with no sign of yellow or orange. And then the lady happened to move another leaf at the edge of the patch, near the gate to find.....



...ONE MORE! This one just a baby, its flower shriveled and no more than three inches across but sturdy and growing. They were all growing but slowly as it hadn't rained. So the lady found the water hose (thank goodness she had moved the hose before she left or it would have been incorporated into the patch) and fixed a special mixture of food for the young pumpkins. She fed them and watered them until their leaves no longer drooped.

As she watered she saw more buds, both male and female, all along the vine. She wondered what would happen next. Would more pumpkins develop? Would these pumpkins live and grow? How big will they get? How long before they turn deep orange? How many pumpkins can you get from each vine? Should she try to turn them? Should she pinch off the end of the vines? How long will the vines grow? So many questions, so few answers........... at least for now....... only time will tell, won't it?

(To be continued... but not today)

Tissue Paper

Crepe myrtle blooms: tissue paper thin.
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"Many of our fears are tissue-paper thin, and a single courageous step would carry us clear through them." ~ Brendan Francis

The late afternoon light filters through the tissue thin petals of this crepe myrtle flower. Their blooming season is winding down and with a brisk north wind, these will soon be floating through the air and peppering the ground with dots of fuchsia, red, purple and white.

Submission for PhotoFriday topic "thin". (end of post)

Here We Go A-Wandering

Miss Chloe has an attack of the wanderlust.
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"Cats do not go for a walk to get somewhere but to explore." ~ Sidney Denham

Miss Chloe doesn't get out much and the wide open spaces don't call to her as they do for some kitties. Still, on occasion she likes to check out the yard and flowerbeds, duly supervised of course. Unlike her sister, she doesn't head straight to the grass for a munchy meal, just noses under the bushes and behind the dog house.



Chloe will explore the animal world at Friday's Ark today and check out the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday. The carnival is hosted this week by Curiouser and Curiouser. (end of post)

Wicked Weather This Way Cometh

Sand castles. (Click picture for larger view)

"Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand"
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay, U.S. poet (1892-1950)

"All love that has not friendship for its base,
Is like a mansion built upon the sand."
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1855-1919), U.S. poet. Upon the Sand.

Sand castles on the beach always reminds me of the song I learned in childhood:

"The foolish man built his house upon the sand,
The foolish man built his house upon the sand,
The foolish man built his house upon the sand
And the rains came a tumbling down.
The rains came down and the floods came up,
The rains came down and the floods came up,
The rains came down and the floods came up.
And the house on the sand fell flat.

The wise man built his house upon the rock,
The wise man built his house upon the rock,
The wise man built his house upon the rock,
And the rains came a tumbling down.
The rains came down and the floods came up,
The rains came down and the floods came up,
The rains came down and the floods came up,
But the house on the rock stood firm."

Edna St. Vincent Millay voices that reckless but dangerous part of us that sees "houses on the rock" as boring, uninteresting, safe, even ugly. She wants everyone to see her exciting, beautiful, shining palace on the sand. But for how long?

Here at the beach they occasionally hold sand sculpture contests with works of art that defy the imagination. Those castles complete with moats, turrets and little flags atop the towers are truly spectacular; but then the wind comes, the tide comes in, the rain comes down and they are gone, with the only record of their existence in a photograph or video.

The quote by Ella Wilcox conveys a truth that I didn't learn in time and one that I desperately hope my daughter and any other young person does learn. Love without a foundation of deep friendship will not last. Love may be glittering, exciting, beautiful, exhilarating and any of the great adjectives used to describe it. But the shine eventually fades and in its place there will be either a beautiful long lasting patina of comfort, companionship, respect, and selflessness; or there will be a tarnished shell of rust worth nothing. Love's patina comes when friendship is the foundation. It withstands the wind, the rain and the tides of life.

So, what does this have to do with the title of this post? I suppose not much really; although there is a coastal storm coming, a Nor'easter and any lone sand castles left on the beach are sure to fall prey. As we all know.... eventually, wicked weather this way cometh.
(end of post)

My One And Only

My shiny, juicy, red, lonely homegrown tomato.
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"When hope is not pinned wriggling onto a shiny image or expectation, it sometimes floats forth and opens." ~ Anne Lamott

Look what I grew this summer! Yes, it was the only one that managed to survive to this size and ripen as well. Yes, it was the first one. But it made the most luscious and juicy bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. And this is an extremely special tomato!

You will have to understand my background in home gardening; I have none. Yes, I managed to grow impatiens that filled my flowerbeds and were up to three feet in height in some areas, but you can't eat them... at least I don't think so; and that only happened one year, so I think it was an accident. Until this year, every tomato plant I have ever planted grew for a month and then curled up and died. Other vegetables didn't even make it that far. I killed a fig tree. It is almost impossible to kill a fig tree; Dad sticks a limb with only two leaves in the ground and in one season there are more branches starting and leaves galore. But I killed the fig tree. My brother left a live evergreen Christmas tree in Mississippi. We planted it outside in a sheltered area.... it died too. I've never been good at this.

But this year I grew cucumbers (two kinds) and two kinds of tomatoes. The cherry tomatoes yielded more than the large bigboy tomatoes, but this one was so red and shiny. Rabbits and squirrels got most of the other large ones. With the plant and the fertilizer and water... I figure this tomato cost at least $4.00. It was a really, really, really good bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich though. (Wink!)

PS: The jury on the pumpkins is still out... or rather, I'm in the middle of that saga and don't want to tell just yet. You'll have to stay tuned for that one. Other attempts were not so great. My pan squash made it to the flowering stage but didn't "pan" out... so to speak. My watermelon seed came up but didn't make it to the flowering stage. My bell pepper turned out to be an imposter. The caterpillars skeletonized the collards as fast as the new leaves came out but they are technically my dad's project. So I'm still not a good gardener.

Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "shiny". (end of post)

A Rusty Hinge

Rusty hinge. (Click picture for larger view)

"May the hinges of friendship never rust, or the wings of love lose a feather." ~ Edward Bannerman Ramsey (Scottish educator and dean of the University of Edinburgh, 1793 - 1872) Reminiscences of Scottish Life

The wooden gate is weathered, its hinge is rusted; but with just a little oil and a little work, it still does the job. Friendship, like the hinge, can be rusty; rusty from separation by time, distance or circumstances. But with a little care, a little time, a little concern; it can flourish again. How do you keep your "hinges of friendship" rust free?

Submission to LensDay for topic "rust". (end of post)

Brooklyn Botanical Bunny Blending In

Brooklyn Botanical Bunny (Click picture for larger view)

"Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen." ~ John Steinbeck (American Novelist and Writer, Nobel Prize for Literature for 1962, 1902-1968)

This little bunny was at home in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden's huge rose garden. It is paradise here for the little creature; plenty to eat, lovely fountains and ponds to drink from and a wide variety of safe hidden nooks to nest. He didn't seem particularly frightened and sat patiently waiting for me to set up the tripod and camera; almost as if he knew the drill. To the gardener, he and his friends are pests, eating the delicate rose leaves, even the flowers. I just thought it amazing how well he blended in with the background.

Submission to Tuesdays Photos for topic "animal".
Submission for Moody Monday topic "camouflage". (end of post)

A Tired Tubby Tummy

Willow's tired tubby tummy
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"Who among us hasn't envied a cat's ability to ignore the cares of daily life and to relax completely?" ~ Karen Brademeyer

This is my father's chair; at least it used to be. Dad put a fleece throw over it for protection and moved a cat pad to the seat temporarily, however, it stayed and Willow took over. Oh, he still gets to sit there, sometimes in the evening when she is off to the sunroom; but, if he gets up to get a snack or walk to the bedroom, even for just a minute; there she is jumping up into the seat. There have been days when she occupied the space from morning to night. She has no shame, no decorum like the Siamese. She's a Ragdoll... she flops. I do notice her scrunched toes when she sleeps tummy side up; almost as if she's pointing them, at least trying to look graceful. In the end, comfort rules over appearance, right?

Willow sends her tired tubby tummy to Tummy Tuesday today at Catstuff. (WOW! Try saying that five times fast!)
She will also lounge with the other animals onboard Friday's Ark today and check out the Carnival of the Cats on Sunday. The carnival is hosted this week by Curiouser and Curiouser.
(end of post)

Colorful Crazy Lady

Joyce W. ~ Crazy, wonderful, funny lady.
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"Here's my advice: Go ahead and be wacky. Get into a crazy frame of mind and ask what's funny about what you're doing." ~ Roger Von Oech

The swinging doors open and here she comes; slightly stooped with shuffling steps, one hand on her hips that have that protruding shelf-like look. She always wears such wonderfully bright (and mismatched) skirts and blouses; at her advanced age her chest reflects the ravages of gravity. I don't know if she or the friend she brings with her have special "stage" names or not; I think of them as the "Sweet, Slightly Senile, Sisters" and they make us laugh, not at them but with them. They bring joy and laughter and hugs and.... sometimes candy. Little kids love them, old men want to hug them and everyone wants to take a picture.

In the real world, Joyce W. and her friend are wonderful women, dedicated to making others feel better. Over the years Joyce has played many characters... and I do mean "characters" in the full sense of the word. I've seen her walk into a hospital room as "Nancy Nurse" and with her humor, erase fears of impending surgery. She knows that laughter is the best medicine.

She really does carry off these crazy mixed up colors, doesn't she? We should all be blessed to be this "crazy".

Submitted to SeeItSunday for topic "crazy". (end of post)