For those of you who have been following this blog, I have re-organized everything chronologically and moved it all to a new blog site:  analmanacofmorrowcounty.blogspot.com.  I welcome you're joining me there.

Today at Iten's Acres: The Outlaws

The Outlaws:
The gang has been separated by technology. My neighbor put up an electric fence to make sure his little beagle doesn't get into the road and get hit. I can't blame him. Poor Stella--his beautiful black lab--lost her life to one of those speeding back road demons. So, this will keep the beagle safe.
It does mean the end of the gang. Bonnie stays away. Even brain-dead Gus has learned to keep his distance. The only slow learner has been the little beagle. I feel guilty--a little--because whenever I'm out walking or "working," she wants to run over and "help." Yowl!!!! Several times already. And there is an element of injustice here: the old huge brown lab that visits on occasion is impervious to the shock. She doesn't have a collar, so she just runs right through it like it's not even there, joins me for my walks, and keeps me company. Bonnie will join us once in awhile. The alpaca are scared to death of the lab and squeal--I don't know what else to call it--whenever she's with me out back in the meadow. Protective Bonnie comes racing to the rescue, but when she sees who it is, she just joins us, tail wagging, completely out of guarding mode. Hats off to Gus. Sorry little beagle. Welcome Big Brown. Let's walk, shall we?

Backroads of Morrow County: Beginnings

Backroads of Morrow County Update:
It has begun. The farmer's reward and risk. The winter wheat is several inches high. Still green--not enough time and sun yet for "amber waves of grain." But it can't be too long. I'm sure I can hear the wheat singing in the wind. "O, beautiful for spacious skies . . ." Most of the other fields show evidence of crops too. I say "most" because a few fields are still not plowed--notably, the one across the way from me. The agricultural engineer who plows it usually does it "late" so I'm not worried. Last year corn. This year I expect soy beans. Everywhere else--almost--the long green lines of plants are racing toward the horizons. The corn is distinctive. There's no doubt what it is. The soy beans not so much. I assume that it's soy beans though now it merely looks like small green patches of "weedy" stuff stretching off into the distance. They are not yet big enough to "connect." They look like fields of green polka dots at this point. But before you know it, they will be cords of green.
The only wild flowers along the roads are wild phlox, daisies, and sweet pea. Pink and white borders nodding "welcome" as I drive past. The "doormats" of dusty roads. The doves have already committed themselves to wire sitting. The swallows are practicing their wind skimming. No doubt already gathering lunch for the kids. The blue birds grace the open meadows with an occasional meadowlark to add some yellow and black--and a song. The red-wings are everywhere--the neighborhood fussing crones. The red-headed woodpeckers are in their usual haunts. Red, black, and silver-white they are always a feast for my eyes. An occasional goldfinch will arc his way across the road, just showing off I imagine--like most males. The bird life of Morrow County is in full swing--or should I say full wing. Gorgeous, for sure.
Surprisingly, the wet spring has led to some early haying. I saw an older man, a younger man, and a boy at work in the field down the road from me. History at work. Grandpa, son, grandson making a team. The boy was too small to be of much help, but the knowledge of generations was, no doubt, being filtered down to him. Not much help, but probably the most important person in the field. The knowledge of good farming is being passed down, and the lad is our hope. May he see joy in the labor and nourish a love for it. Grandpa--as this grandpa knows--is not as strong as he once was at the work, but he has the "tricks and resolution" to pass on Santiago-like to the "boy" that he loves. Dad--son--is the evidence that grandpa knows what he's doing and is worthy of emulation in this labor of love for the land, the animals who will feast on the hay, and the farmers who earn their living--and ours--in the historical story of mankind's relationship to his "place on earth" as Wendell would call it. As I watch them, a favorite quote comes to mind: "Simplicity carried to extremes is elegance." Not to mention lovely in its generational way.
Yep, it has begun. Rural America, Adam-like, facing the hardships of life, at the mercy of the weather, learning the beauty and character building of hard work--and the joy of family.

Walking Iten's Acres: Prevarication May 25, 2013

I'm going to sue. Whom you ask? The weather channel, all the weatherpersons on the local channels, and the Farmer's Almanac. Why you ask? They declared that there would be no frost in Ohio after May 15th. Prevaricators. ("Liars" sounds so harsh.) Charges you ask? Extreme physical trauma. I should not have had to cover a zillion plants on May 24th. Severe emotional stress. It is impossible to cover all the plants that have come up that would be susceptible to frost on May 25th. I had to choose. Heartbreaking. Evidence you ask? We have them all on tape. Well, FA is on paper. "The frost date for Ohio is May 15th. You can go buy your flowers now and plant them worry free." Open and shut case--the wretches. Oh, don't give me this "we can't control the weather" excuse. Then, quit acting as if you can. Quit trying to be the Nostradamus of weather. (He didn't know what he was talking about either, by the way.) All that you own will be mine. Heh, heh. Hey, maybe it's a conspiracy? Maybe the nurseries pay them to say that? We buy our flowers, plant them, the frost comes. Flowerslaughter occurs. We beauty addicts have to go buy some more to replace the ones that got the cold shoulder. Hmmmmm. I'll have to have my lawyers check their bank statements. I will own the world.

Today at Iten's Acres: May 22, 2013

Today at Iten's Acres:
Do you want the good news first or the bad news?

Bad news: It's been a terrible, horrible, excruciatingly disappointing iris spring. Four of my beds that are usually loaded have either had only one bloom or as of now have only one bulb that hasn't even bloomed yet. My iris eyes are not smiling. And I don't think they're just running late because there aren't even any bulbs.

Good news: The ones that have bloomed are stunning. Look for the pictures on Saturday. Some real beauties. And several of them are first timers at the acres.

More good news: Wild turkey in the Back 40. She must have been just sitting in the tall grass watching me. Only when I turned to walk toward where she was concealed did she hit the air waves. Monstrous bird. Great aviator too. Called me something in turkish that I'm sure was not an "Oh, glad to see you chubby, old bald human." I was surprised. Maybe she has a nest back there? I'll have to stay away for awhile and see. Don't want to be a family wrecker.

More bad news: She almost gave me a heart attack. I am now 70--lost three years off my life. At least.

I'll end with good news: I've been trying since I moved here to find something that would thrive in my bog and add color to the Acres. Now, my gardening angels have added some monkey grass and just a tad of trollius, but no success for me. Well, along the edge I have some wild hyacinth, Japanese and Siberian Iris, and some hibiscus that have bloomed--but just along the edges. But, la di dah, this year I have three patches of gorgeous yellow water iris right in the middle of the bog! I planted them last fall under a great deal of skepticism. I mean, what flower enjoys being drowned for most of the year--submerged in swamp water? The answer: yellow flag iris. I repent of my skepticism and gladly do a bog dance!!

This Week at Iten's Acres: May 18, 2013

This Week at Iten's Acres:

It feels as if I tried to pack the whole month of May into five days. And the weirdness of the weather didn't help. Frost on Monday morning, eighty degrees by the end of the week, and a monsoon rain storm in between. Ah, well. I enjoyed sitting in the recliner, lights off, watching the storm move in: strong winds bending the trees, day night, day night as the lightning ricocheted across the acres, raucous thunder, and then torrents of rain turning the acres into a morass one more time this spring. Quite a storm.
The highlight of the week was, of course, loading down my little red wagon with tons of flowers from Baker's Acres. I always go back and forth between thinking I have enough to fill my planters to wondering if I need to get a few more. Invariably, by the time I've planted everything--and what a lovely day and a half that was--I"m a few plants short. My problem is I'm a "planter packer." I put lots of the little beauties in each pot. Can't help myself. Ah well. I can pick up a few more somewhere. Mom's container garden is luscious. Even though she's not here to enjoy it--and give her advice--I'm sure she would love it: snapdragons, petunia, geraniums, dianthus, marigolds, bright eyes, zinnia, dahlia, salvia, lantana--all her favorites. And the ruby throat has already checked them out and given his approval. I believe he may like the real thing better than the "fake" red "flower juice" in the feeder. (Actually, there's two of them, and the battle is raging for summer squatter rights.) Next, on the work schedule is some mulching and some weed thinning. With all the rain and the days I spent out of town, my beds are overrun. Not than I mind that much. Some of the weeds will be beautiful when they bloom. And the one's that don't will be overshadowed by the flowers. I am a little concerned that the cool, wet spring may limit my iris show. That would be depressing for an iris addict like myself. But maybe, they'll just be a little late this year. I certainly won't scold them for that.
The flower planting did cause me to put off mowing the front of the Acres the day before the storm. Ugh. And it's supposed to rain again tomorrow. The grass will be high again when--if--I can find a warm, sunny day to feed the bluebirds. They have been patiently sitting on the wires waiting for me to do my catering.
And, of course, Homesteader had her surgery this week. My sense of time was so discombobulated that I accidentally took her in a day early. They were gracious enough to take her anyway. Good thing. It's a major production to get her into the carrier. Wears an old man out. She's smarter than I am, a zillion times quicker than I am, and not the least bit interested in taking a ride in a cage. Perseverance won out, eventually. She's home now and doing great, though not exactly feeling fully frisky. Lots of nap time. In between name calling.
Yep, another week at the Acres has slipped away. Seems like a month, at least. But thankfully, it wasn't. Two more glorious weeks of May to go--and I promise to enjoy them. And I'm sure I'll post some pictures for you. Be patient!

Homesteader Update: May 15, 2013

It will be a traumatic day for the Homesteader--aka Nosy Rosy, aka white dish rag, aka CAT!! As of today there will be no chance of kittens in her future. I couldn't begin to imagine a whole house full of the furry troublemakers.
At least the day should be quiet and trauma free. No one to give me a "piece of her mind" about anything and everything. No one to try to kick me out of her recliner so she can comfortably watch what's going on outside on her Acres. No one to vainly pounce on the doorwindow in an attempt to attack the neighborhood chipmunks. No one to knock around her favorite new plaything--a plastic football--all over the house. I have no idea where she found it. But, ah, is it ever a noise maker. She must enjoy the unpredictability of its bounces. She plays with it everywhere. Amusing to watch, entertaining little creature. Well, it's not so entertaining at 4 A.M. I'm going to have to send her to obedience school so she can learn to tell time. Not that that would change anything. It is her house after all. But today and tonight it will be quiet and uneventful. I can type on the computer without her interference. I can eat without getting a lecture on sharing. I can sit in the recliner and read the paper without all the commentary, and the "Don't you think it's time to get out of my chair" blueyellow eyed stares. I can sleep all night. I can wake up on my own, not to the tune of paw prints up and down my back, a wet nose in my face, and "the get up lazy human" serenade. Ah, a day of peace. (It will be nice to have her back tomorrow. Hey! Quit reading between the parentheses!)

Backroads of Morrow County Update: May 5, 2013

It's glass half-full, glass half-empty time along the roads of Morrow County.

Some of my feathered friends are back. The red-winged blackbirds are everywhere, sitting on the wires, fussing at each other. The swallows are back skimming over the swamp having dinner. I saw a small green-blue heron there as well. But--no meadowlark yet. I hope they return again to the meadow down the road from me. I'll miss their voice in the choir if they don't spend a summer here. Not to mention the flashes of yellow and black disappearing into the tall grasses. And I have not yet seen the deep ethereal bluish flash of the indigo bunting as well. Bluer than the bluest sky.
Many of the trees are turning enviously green. But not all of them. And I doubt if any of them are completely full of green. (Conifers don't count!) Oh, they will be in full leaf soon. The hidden houses that were revealed through the winter's bareness will soon be invisible again. My cave in two or three weeks will be practically unnoticeable by those traveling down County Road 25--just the way an old bald recluse likes it.
The same flowering bushes and shrubs that are bursting with color on my acres are doing the same on everyone else's property as well. Though I must confess, some of my neighbors have different trees than I do--tulip trees and Bradford pears, for example--and some of them have bigger trees than I do, too. There are a plethora of huge lilac bushes around these parts. It will take a decade or so for my little lilacs to attain such heights of beauty. And, oh! to slow down and roll down the window is glorious. God's incense. Yes, there are multitudes of folks out here that as I pass their acres, I imagine that we would make fast friends--beautiful tree lovers must unite!
As I meander the backroads only about half the fields are plowed so far. As you know, I love their symmetry. I'm sure the others will get their parallel lines soon. It will be joyous--believe it or not--to watch the growth of summer crops. Even now, the process has begun. Seeds are dying, the growth will begin, early rains, latter rains, sunshine, abundant fruitfulness. In the fields and in life the progress is the same. It can't be rushed. And you must trust the grace of the God who brings the rain and the sun to do His work at His pace. It is totally beyond our power to control. May we all develop the patience and faith of the farmer.
I passed more than a few farmers doing their plowing. Huge green beasts chewing up the soil. You can see the dust settling from a mile away--long before you reach them at work in the fields. Impressive. But I will be taking trips into Amish territory so I can see the proud work horses pulling their plows. Gorgeous and impressive. Lovers of a hard day's toil.
Ah, most the birds are here. But the glass won't be full until the meadowlark arrives. And the indigo bunting. More than half the trees are green; but they are not all green yet, and none of them are completely clothed in their summer richness. And the hidden houses can still be seen by the traveler of the backroads. Jealously, some of my trees are only half as mature as my neighbors. All the beauty but half the size. Only half of the fields are plowed and planted. The mystery of growth is just beginning. But half the fields have not yet been churned into geometrical masterpieces, and I have not yet found any team of horses prancing in the joy of the labor they were created for. Indeed, the "glass is half empty," but I am not sad or disappointed. The joy of my wanderings on the backroads of Morrow County is to watch the "glass" fill up. Wouldn't have it any other way. A toast to the half-full glass of Morrow County. Beautiful!

Riding Iten's Acres: May 3, 2013

Riding Iten's Acres:
I spent the last two afternoons riding the Acres. For some, I suppose, cutting the grass would be a chore. I love it! Being outside, cruising the property, beheading a thousand dandelions, life is good. By mid-summer the barn swallows will join me for lunch when I cut the meadow and the wild area out back, and the blue birds will join me when I cut the front, winding my way among the flower beds. Today, it was just me and the robins. Well, the redwings fussed a bit when I cut near the pond, but they were a little subdued for them--guess there aren't any fledglings yet. The birds at the feeder just ignore me.
I am expanding the wild area a tad--again. I just am in love with God's wildness, and the beauty of the natural wildflowers of Ohio. Oh, I "seeded" the area with some daffodils, iris, lilies, monarda, spiderwort, and grape hyacinths. I threw in a few handfuls of wild flower seeds as well. Can't wait to see what happens this summer and fall. Don't worry, I still have plenty of meadow, the back forty, the orchard, and the rock garden out back, so it's still wide open. A park--minus the picnic tables.
The flowering trees and shrubs are magnificent--as I mentioned before: several redbuds, red and white crab apples, white and pink dogwoods, apple trees, pear trees, marsh marigold, red and white bleeding hearts, lilacs, azalea--color is everywhere painted on God's blue canvas. A few daffodils are still around--two or three dozen small white ones and the miniature golden bells are the last to bloom. They'll be around another ten days or so. A couple dozen tulips of various colors dot the flower beds and other areas, dozens of grape hyacinth are still blooming, the rock garden is a carpet of thrift and creeping phlox, and the first iris bloomed today. It caught me by surprise suddenly appearing in the rock garden. Two others are about to bloom--the usual early bloomers--a rosy white one and a yellow. Yes, all this beauty means my riding looks as if I'm in the middle of some city in rush hour traffic: stop and go, stop and go, stop and go. And sadly, my mower is a single seater so you'll have to walk the Acres if you want to see everything. Fear not! I will not run you over. Probably.
Two days of riding the Acres for the first time in 2013. I can't wait until it morphs into Feeding the Bluebirds and Feeding the swallows. Flying flowers are luscious too.

Walking Iten's Acres: May 1, 2013

It must be red day in the feathered kingdom: The rose-breasted grosbeak has arrived--well, the male anyway. The female has been here for a couple weeks already. And the ruby-throated hummingbird arrived today as well. I love red.

Today at Iten's Acres: May 1, 2013

Today at Iten's Acres:
My Gardening Angels didn't do much the five days that I was gone. I understand the weather didn't help much. My land is still wet and sloppy. It has been a rainy, cold spring. But there's two months to go. I will be patient. I will be patient. I will be patient. Though it is particularly difficult to do so with the iris. No sign of any buds yet. The winter of 2011 messed up my expectations. Last year things started blooming in February. This year they are back to normal--whatever normal is in Ohio. I guess, there really isn't such a thing as normal when it comes to Ohio.
Not that all is lost. Some daffodils are still blooming; in fact, a couple dozen or so haven't even bloomed yet. And that's not even counting the dozens of miniature golden bell daffodils that are just starting to add their yellow tiny trumpets to the beauty of the beds. Puddles of grape hyacinth are everywhere. Lots of tulips and more to go. The thrift and creeping phlox are warming up. And the flowering trees are raring to show off. The redbud are already living up to their name. The pear and apple trees--including the crab apples--are on the verge of brilliance. The dogwoods--white and pink--should be in full bloom by the end of the week. The flowering almond are sharing their pink view of the world, and one azalea has started to bloom. And everywhere--yes, everywhere--the Gardening Angels have sprinkled the world with violets--purples, whites, two-tones, even a few yellows. Sometimes the ordinary is so gorgeous I miss it. Thousands and thousands of dabs of color everywhere you look. Oh, and don't forget the bleeding hearts--whites and reds beautifying the shady areas everywhere.
I guess I owe the Gardening Angels an apology. The Acres, as May comes in, are a lovely place to take a nice long walk--or two, or three, or . . .

This Week at Iten's Acres: April 12, 2013

This Week at Iten's Acres:
Weather: We had weather every day this week. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I feel as if there may have even been some sunshine earlier in the week. You know--that bright yellow thing that sometimes--once a month or so--hovers over the Ohio landscape bringing warmth. Of course, we also had a hail storm this week. Didn't really do any damage unless you call sending the Homesteader into a frenzy watching all those little white orbs ricocheting everywhere outside the doorwindow--just beyond her reach, "damage." I call it a good laugh. An ark of rain the last couple of days, too. The creeks of Morrow County are peeking over the edge of all those picturesque one lane bridges. And the Acres are under water. FAS: the forsythia are starting to bloom--three more snows!
Creature Features: A herd of deer went leaping across the upper meadow yesterday. Out of Aaron's pines, through my trees, and into Dennis' thickets. I hope they kept going across the road, through the swamp, and into the trees on the other side. Keep your appetites away from my flowers you varmints! Speaking of varmints, the ticks are here. I'll have to get some Frontline for the white dish rag. No, she doesn't go out, but invariably I bring some of those wretches into the house after I've walked the Acres in spring. The squirrel population declined this week. Heh, heh. And, I think the newest member of the Outlaws has puppies. No, really. The gang will be a pack! Dennis has his "flock" roaming free. I'm sorry city folks but a herd of animals feeding on a hillside--regardless of its size--defines "serenity." (Miss you Blaze.)
Beauty Update: For the eyes--it's daffodil time. They only started blooming in earnest this week, and I have, at least, 500-600 blooms today all over the landscape. Myriads more to come. In the beds, surrounding the pond, in the trees, laying siege to the mound, out along the edges of the meadow, scattered throughout the wild area: if you love yellows and whites and pinks--and eventually oranges--rejoice, it's daffodil time. They are great for naturalizing--grow anywhere, the beasts don't like them, multiply like crazy.
For the olfactory glands: hyacinth. They also appeal to the eyes: brilliant dark colors and soft pastel colors. And, ah, the lovely scents. I only have a few dozen of them scattered everywhere, but they add diversity to the Acre's color scheme this time of year. And grow anywhere, too. Throw in the pansies I planted in various places, the spring beauties that God planted everywhere, the "fattening" of the buds on the trees, and the walks are lovely in mid-April on Iten's Acres. Next, will be the forsythia in full bloom, the redbuds, the tulips that the rabbits don't eat, and the bleeding hearts! Let's hear it for April. Well, let's see it and smell it for April!
My Feathered Friends: As mentioned before the goldfinch have bloomed. Robins are everywhere in hoards. The red-wings are staking claims to nesting sites in the pond and the bog. A male towhee dropped by the feeder this week. I think I saw a female grosbeak as well which means the males will be here soon. Still a few snowbirds around--reading the blooms on the forsythia I imagine. No sign of the ruby throats yet. Or the indigo buntings. Or the meadowlarks. Soon. I hope. Why is it that the bird world is so opposite the human race? For the most part, the male birds are the gorgeous ones and the females rather plain. In we humans--well, sorry guys, it's backwards. Or frontwards, maybe. Oh, the road-kill-clean-up-crew is back--all a buzz. No beauty there in either gender. I almost forgot. The swallows aren't back yet, either. Guess they're waiting for lawn mower season.
I did do a little work this week, in case you were worried. Raked some leaves out of a few beds. Got to get some sun on the iris! Planted a couple things as well. Still have to plant the gladiolas and some seed packets, but that can wait. I think I'll go rest awhile on the bench by the pond. Then, maybe I'll spend a little time on the top of the hill resting in the green throne. I'm developing the Iten heresy. "One day shalt thou labor, and six days shalt thou rest." Forgive me, Lord. I will go job hunting once May gets here, I promise.

Backroads of Morrow County: April 8, 2013

Backroads of Morrow County Update:
For those of you who have not yet recovered from the angst of childhood . . . for those of you who wake up at night in cold sweats knowing that your childhood searches for the meaning of life remain unfulfilled . . . for those of you who still have bouts of blurry, fuzzy vision . . . Listen very, very, very, carefully:

Take 23 North to Marion.
Turn right--West--on 95.
At the fourth traffic light, turn right again on 98--South.
Go EXACTLY nine miles----And--------you will find Waldo. Every time. Guaranteed.
Sure. Glad I could help. I knew my ricocheting all around the backroads of Ohio would someday lead to a cure for something. Not my roving malady, but something.

Walking Iten's Acres: April 4, 2013

Walking Iten's Acres:
It's amazing what three days of sun and slowly warming temperatures can do for the Acres! More crocus blooming, more dwarf iris, primrose, wood hyacinth (can their big brothers be far behind), more Lenten rose, the beginning of the daffodils. Even the goldfinch are starting to bloom. And the wild flowers are on their way beginning with the spring beauties. The joy of wild flowers everywhere, blooming wherever they please, is that old truth that they reinforce: "There is nothing more extraordinary as the ordinary."

Homesteader Update: March 30, 2013

Homesteader update: (AKA the white dish rag; nosy Rosy, CAT!!!)

My primary function in life these days is to provide a lap in the green recliner that looks out on the front of the Acres through the doorwindow. From there, she can see the bird feeder, the chipmunks scurrying around the flower pots, the Outlaw gang as they mosey by, and the peepers climbing the glass. Favorite imaginary meals? The chipmunks and the mourning doves. At least those are the ones that will get her out of my lap to charge the window, prop her front paws on the glass, strike the "ears back intimidating pose", and watch the scattering. She follows the Outlaw Gang from window to window as they pass the house. She hates it, no doubt, that they ignore her.
She makes a great alarm clock--if consistency is a measure of greatness. Every morning at 7:30 AM: plop on the bed, pointy paws up and down my back, a morning serenade, and a cold nose in the face. I assume the serenade is along the lines of "Get up lazy human. It's a new day." Ugh. Yes, she also does a great job as a snooze alarm.
Current favorite toy: that budget-busting cap from the top of a bottle of bottled water. Especially joyful to knock around on the tiles or to drop down the stairs. It seems that noise is a necessary component of fun. She also loves playing with ink pens that she knocks from my desk to the floor. Weird. If I start finding anonymous notes around the house, I'll really start to worry.
Basking in sunlight is a must for each day. (Provided there is some.) Usually in the mornings it's in front of the doorwindow and in the afternoons the bathroom floor upstairs. Wherever rays can be found.
Favorite speed: the dash.
Favorite way to distract the slave: get in his lap and place both your paws over the arm he's trying to type with on the computer. And be sure to express your disgust when he makes you move--even if it's just to his lap.
Each day is the same battle: Who's the boss? What? Of course I'm losing.

Today at Iten's Acres: March 25, 2013

Today at Iten's Acres:
Gus, after a winter tied up, has been set free. So, on all my walks I have at least one furry friend. When his "sibling" the little hound is out, she joins us as well. They always check out the prairie rat's hole, meander down the paths in the wild area, and then ramble back up to the house with me. They know by now that I always go through the trees on my return and wait for me there. I guess I'm as predictable as they are.
Though spring is officially here, it has not done much beautifying yet. The ground in most places is still fairly hard. My planters are like concrete. Out front lots of daffodils and tulips and hyacinths have let it be known that they will be blooming as soon as the warmth catches up with the calendar. I will have to be on the alert for my friends the rabbits; they have already done some damage. Rabbit stew anyone? I'm sure the dogs will enjoy having them over for dinner. Out back, not much is coming up at all. The wild area has been pretty much flattened by the winter's weather, except for the brambles, of course--things with thorns seem to be fairly indestructible. No daffodils or hyacinth even coming up out there yet. A few crocus, though. Dabs of purple, white, lilac, and yellow scattered here and there along the edges of the paths or under the barren bushes.
I am hoping for a good snow tonight--five inches or more would be delectable. I'll sit in my old green recliner by the doorwindow and watch the world turn white. Will be lovely if it happens. I'm sure the white dish rag would join me, curled up in my lap, temporarily distracted now and then by the birds at the feeder once daylight gets here. Provided, naturally, that she's willing to share her chair with me. The goldfinch have not yet bloomed. And no sign of the rose-breasted grosbeak yet either. The male redwings are here. And the criminal cowbirds.
I wonder how the peepers will enjoy the snow?
I confess that I have enjoyed the "normal" winter. A little warmer would be acceptable now, but not real warm yet. It's a long time until Ohio becomes frost free. I don't want any "tender" plants coming up too soon. Call me over protective.
Highlights of the week. I actually saw the sun two days in a row. And one day was warm enough for me to enjoy a nice long rest in the green throne on the top of the hill. Ahhh, the joys of being king. What? Oh, I'll share sovereignty for awhile if you're in the neighborhood. But remember--bring your own throne.

Backroads of Morrow County: March 7, 2013

Backroads of Morrow County Update:
I took a nice long excursion along the back roads today. I didn't have any particular destination in mind. In fact, No Place in Particular was the exact destination I had in mind. I find such travels therapeutic. My thoughts and my emotions needed a trip to nowhere today.
Though it is only three weeks until the official arrival of spring, there was little evidence of its coming. Some snow is still left over from the snowfall of a couple of days ago--but not much. The rows in the fields seem to collect it, and there are always those locations--shaded for the most part--that will resist any melting. The ponds are not iced over, but they do have patches still. None of the houses in the trees have even begun to go back into hiding. A few--very few--of the fields are plowed. I really don't know if anything has been planted in them yet. Nothing is certainly coming up. What kind of crop would someone plant this time of year? Winter wheat? I confess my ignorance. But the symmetry of a plowed field is lovely.
In fact, despite the winteryness of the landscape, it produces in me a sense of serenity. An "all's right with the world" feeling. There are some sheep in their pastures. Oblivious to my creeping by. One cattle "ranch" has bales of hay out for the creatures. They seem to enjoy the congregating. Cow gossip, I guess. A few hawks, still as silhouettes, sit high on the barren branches of the trees. Mourning doves are everywhere. I guess they aren't on the menu.
I did, eventually, ricochet into Mount Gilead--no, I don't think they sell balm there--and had a bite to eat at the local dive. They do specialize in comfort food. Nice country folks. Full of laughter as they discuss the stories of their lives. Yes, I eavesdrop. Suppress a smile, maybe even a laugh, though I have no idea what has them laughing. Contagious stuff that joy thing.
When I headed back to home, the sky was gray. But off on the horizon was a patch of pale yellow--dare I say, almost ivory. The sun is hidden behind the grayness, but it's glow lightens the distance, announcing that it is still around and just waiting for a break. I have to weave down 25 to avoid the plethora of pot holes. I wonder what a patrolman would think if he saw me. Too much Pepsi, I'm sure. Though it is not dark yet, my porch lights which are light sensitive (lack of light maybe) beckon me back from my meanderings. Homesteader is in the doorwindow, but she's focused on her feathered friends. It is not a "welcome home" party. I know my place in the universe according to cats. Supposedly, a couple days of warmer weather are coming soon. I hope it triggers the crocus, Lenten roses, and snowdrops to begin to show off. I'm ready for a colorful walking of the Acres.

Backroads of Morrow County: August 20, 2010

The world is coming to an end. I sat next to an Amish family at Wendy's and they had a CELL PHONE. Then they started discussing problems they were having with their COMPUTER. There is no hope left for us. And they drove up in a CAR. Today is the last day. Goodbye.

Today at Iten's Acres: August 25, 2010

Yesterday was Feeding the Swallows. One of the joys of living in the country and mowing a pasture is the barn swallows think you do it for them--a bug feast. There must have been a dozen of them yesterday swarming around me like blue velvet jets. Fearless. At times I think they can't help but run into me. I duck instinctively, and I'm sure they do the barn swallow guffaw.

Today at Iten's Acres: October 1, 2010

if buzzards circle overhead the entire time I'm cutting my back pasture does that mean a) call the crematorium b) shower more often, c) the neighbor's dog killed another raccoon and I'm delaying dinner, d) i'm too paranoid e) i've been reading too much fantasy?