Between Christmas and New Years

This week has always been a sort of week-in-limbo for me. First there’s the excitement of Christmas. After a day of recovery, my birthday creeps around yet again.

Then comes that period of anticipation of the new year ahead. It’s like we all pause and hold our breath, waiting for the new year to arrive, wishing for a better year to come with the changing of the calendar date on January first.

The residents here at Shady Hollow have been watching the slow melting process of our first white Christmas in what seems like forever. It was a beautiful Christmas Day, watching the snow fall in silent splendor. The air was hushed and still as the tiny flakes drifted downward. Simply awesome.

We were snug and warm inside the cottage. There were kitties at every window, watching the snowflakes float past. Occasionally a paw would tap the glass in an attempt to catch one. Jay Dog will not go out in snow, so papers were spread for his use and I again regretted not teaching him to use a litter box when he was a puppy.

It was a peaceful holiday for Pa and myself. We needed that.

I am spending some time in reflection of the year just past and also years further back in time as 2011 looms ever closer. Funny how you do that as you get older. Maybe I’ll post some of those reflections later this week. Some of them, at least a few, may be worth a post.

Be blessed.

Adventures in the Snow and Cold

Last Sunday, we awoke to three inches of “30% chance of snow.” No biggie, it was Sunday and we didn’t have to go anywhere. I had stocked up on necessary items the day before. I had a “feeling” that the forecast was wrong.

About midday I decided to get laundry done and with a heaping basket of dirty cloths, headed off to the laundry room in the basement.

The basement floor was covered in water! What the heck was going on? Back upstairs to tell my husband. Then, flashlight in hand, back down again to track down the leak and see what had to be done.

The good news was that none of the inside pipes were leaking.

The bad news was that the leak was outside, about a foot from the basement wall. Water from the leak was seeping through the wall and flooding the basement. It would eventually destroy the wall. I know, it happened to my neighbor a few years ago. It only took a few hours to do tremendous damage to her house.

Then I did what any red-blooded Southern woman would do. . . I called my son. While he drove the 40 miles to come help, I started digging. 

I didn’t get the whole area dug out, but I made a start. My son arrived and in short order had the water turned off, hole dug and was on his way to get what was needed for the repairs.

Meanwhile, the artic cold air was pouring into our area, and snow had started flurrying again. It was cold and things didn’t want to cooperate, but my son finally got the pipe repaired. He was half frozen and muddy from head to toe.

Of course there was still plenty of work for me, moping and getting the basement floor dry. Luckily the major part of the flooding was in my husband’s shop area and the majority of his tools were up on benches and unharmed.

I also kept an eye out for signs of a failure in the repair work. My son was worried that it may not hold, due to the cold temperatures in place while he was doing the work. So far, so good on that issue. Maybe next summer we can dig it up again and do some major replacement of water line and prevent a reoccurrence of the problem. We’ll think about that seriously.

For now I’m just thankful the damage to the contents was minimal and that no structural damage was done to the foundation of the cottage.

I’m even more thankful to have a son who will drop what he’s doing and drive 40 miles to help his mother. How wonderful is that?

Cold In The Mountains

It is COLD!!!

It isn’t even officially winter and the temperatures are plunging into the teens at night with single digit wind chills. Brrr!

We are staying warm enough. I got the insulated drapes up in the nick of time.

The bulbs are inside and the shrubs are planted. The potted shrubs are in a safe place to overwinter. I almost waited too long though and am thankful I listened to my inner voice and did those chores when I did.

Right now I can stand by the the dining room window and look out across the pond. It is obscured by foliage during summer. If the temperatures stay this low, I’ll be watching it freeze over soon. All together now. . . brrr!

If you are in the large area blanketed in cold air, please be careful and stay warm. If you’re not. . . you lucky rascal, enjoy it for you may be next.

Meanwhile, I’m staying in the cottage as much as possible. The gardens are dormant and so is the gardener.

Be Blessed!

Chores Are Done: Let It Rain!

I’m proud of myself. I actually got the cannas dug and hydrangeas planted late Sunday afternoon. Now Mother Nature is watering the hydrangeas in with a deep soaking.

We’ve had 2 inches of rain since yesterday afternoon and its supposed to continue raining all day today. My timing was perfect.

Of course, I’ll be even happier after I recover from the stiff, sore muscles I have as a result of all that digging and bulb carrying. I was more out of shape than I thought!

There is still some tidying up to do in preparation for winter: containers and pots need to be stored away for next year and leaves need to be collected for the compose pile. Those will have to wait for better weather.

The best thing to do this morning is to enjoy another cup of coffee and watch the cats nap while  listening to the rain.

Be blessed!

Looking for Deer and Planting Shrubs

Every day as I drive to work, I hope to see that beautiful deer again. I want to see him and I want to avoid hitting him if he doesn’t give me as much time to stop.

My husband and I are both spending a lot of time in the morning and evening looking across the creek into the field beyond, wanting to get a glimpse of “my” buck or the doe our neighbor saw.

We keep thinking we will see them down at the pond getting a drink. So far, no luck.

I did notice this morning how thick the frost was on the grass around the pond. That will be commonplace for the next months. Winter is roaring in.

I am running out of time to plant some hydrangeas I’ve been holding in containers since last spring. If I don’t do it today, next weekend will be my last chance. Stay turned for developments on that project.

I’ve let myself get so out of shape that I almost dread shovel work and moving those big pots. It will be a step toward getting myself back in shape though. I have to look at it from that angle.

I know I’ll be happy next year when these shrubs leaf out and bloom. They are a variegated hydrangea with blue blossoms. My plan is to plant them across the front of the cottage.

Some years ago we pulled out a row of ancient azaleas that had been in that spot since the cottage was built. Since then I have used annuals in that flower bed. I think these hydrangeas will look really nice in that spot. They will also cut the amount of work required to make it look nice. That’s a good thing, as my time to garden seems to diminish a bit more each year.

Surprise Sighting

I was rounding a curve in the road, taking my time and thinking my own thoughts when he leaped down the bank ahead of me. Stopping at the edge of the road for a moment, he then pranced across. Big and beautiful, sleek and well fed.

I slowed to a crawl as I watched in awe.

Prancing across the road, he looked at my approaching car and it seemed he gave me a nod. Then with one smooth flowing leap he cleared the road side ditch and a rail fence that blocked his path.

I watched as he ran across the field. Strong. Happy. Free.

I know sighting a buck isn’t unusual in the mountains, but he was the first to ever cross my path.

I will never forget that beautiful sight. I feel blessed to have had a glimpse into a moment of his life.

Be Blessed.

Leaves

The leaves have almost all fallen. It seems to me that there were more leaves this year. The shade was deeper this summer and the layer of leaves deeper this fall.

The green grass lies covered in a blanket of brown. Moving quietly across the yard takes all the training my daddy gave me as a child.

I remember our walks in the woods vividly. He taught me the names of trees and plants. He taught me to love the woods and the creatures that inhabit them.

He taught me how to walk quietly in new fallen leaves. (I frustrated him no end, however, for it was much more fun to kick them and hear the  crunching, swishing sounds as they flew skyward.)

I did learn though; and could slip up on rabbits, squirrels and other creatures with ease by the time I was nine.

Hmmm. When I was nine. Oh, what a long time ago that was! I try not to think about it very often.

Daddy was my age when he was teaching me woodland stealth. Maybe I could teach my great-grandchildren. Of course, they may think I am crazy if I show them how to walk “Indian style” through the woods. In the days of computers and video games, walking silently through new fallen leaves is not very exciting .

It was fun half a century ago though, walking in the woods with Daddy. That’s what really matters to me.

Strange, isn’t it? The small everyday events and actions done by a parent can, in the future, become so strong a memory in the child turned adult.

Blessed Be.