Today at Iten's Acres: Parnoia October 22, 2013

It's going to be a paranoid winter. My FAS has already started working overtime. My forsythia are blooming. All of them. Just three more snows until spring? Doubt it. I'm going to burn my almanac. (Heresy!) My forsythia are blooming!?

Today at Iten's Acres: Privilege October 15, 2013

I had the privilege of sending a groundhog to the great hibernation in the sky today. What a useless rodent! They must be like the appendix of nature. No one knows for sure what purpose they serve except to be an enormous pain in the side. Well, this one's troubles are over; and I don't mean its troubles but the ones it causes. I'll bet groundhog heaven is a world of green concrete that just smells like grass. That's more than the best one deserves.

Homesteader Update: Whistle While You Work October 15, 2013

I must confess. I have serendipitously discovered a new weapon in the war against cat independence. I accidentally stumbled on a way to get the Homesteader (Nosy Rosy, White Dish Rag, Cat!) to stop what she's doing--whatever it may be--and "behave." What is the cat magic? I whistle. She immediately stops, perks up her ears, and begins looking around for the noisemaker. For some reason she can't figure out that it's me, no matter how obviously I try to make my guilt evident. I guess she thinks the old human doesn't have enough "ingenuity" to come up with something so enigmatic and mysterious. I can feed her, pet her, clean her box, provide a lap, feed her, pet her, provide a . . . But be clever? No chance! I'm enjoying the power. And abusing it! Heh, heh. Whistle while you work . . .

Walking Iten's Acres: Howlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll! October 5, 2013

Still. Quiet. Nature on pause. Such was the beginning of my excursion around Iten's Acres this morning. A touch of fog over the pond and bog. Noiseless--the red wings are gone. Moved on to warmer places I guess. Even the bird feeders were on idle. No outlaws anywhere. Even as I traversed the wild area, no movement. Even the gray skies seemed still. Slate like.
The purple asters and the heath asters are the only beauties on display in the wilderness as October gets going. They show well with the green background. A few deep red leaves--poison ivy can be gorgeous.
Some sadness as I walk the back meadow. Neighbor Dennis lost another of his animal friends--Vito. He was a friendly brown goat. Always quick to come to the fence to check me out. As curious as a cat. When Dennis was in the pen, Vito was his shadow. Never even seemed sick . . . He will be missed.
I can see where the deer have been crossing the wild area. They leave a wide path of their own making. And as creatures of habit, they soon leave a well traveled lane through the wildness. The new paths I added are fully green. One more mow should set the meadow and wild area for this year. I'm thinking of making a new path and letting one of the summer-made paths grow back wild. After I add a few wild flowers to its long term growth plan, of course. Have to invest wisely--and beautifully as well.
It would have been a great morning to have a bench way at the back of the property. A soft rain began as I arrived there. I love soft rains--Ray Bradbury not withstanding. It would have been serenity to sit quietly in the stillness, the whole of the wild area and meadow resting silently in front of me, the cave just visible through the lightening trees. I would probably still be there if I had such an island. I did sit for awhile on the green throne at the top of the hill.
One last flash of color as I traversed the front of the Acres. A hibiscus decided to surprise me with one last monstrous bloom. It was the one that serves as a restaurant for the tree frog. The last "regular" flowers to bloom this time of year have done so. Distinctive purple blue monk's hood and coral pink fall crocus have made their appearance on the fall schedule. I wish the leaves on the trees would hurry and get their paint brush out. The old red maple is just beginning to turn. The burning bushes as well. The dogwood is dotted with many a red berry. The crab apples are loaded. Where are you cedar waxwings? The hawthorn has set its table as well. Winter fruit everywhere.
The silence of my walk was interrupted by Aaron's little hound. The rain must sabotage the electric fence. I heard her before I saw her. When she gets out, she is quick to find a scent and let the world know she is hot on the trail. Probably the rabbits I see every morning as I head for school in the dark. Fleeing the headlights. Hope she catches them or at least sends them scurrying to another neighborhood. When she came to me, bouncy as ever, she was just howling to howl. I suppose she wanted me to join her on her race through the thickets and brambles. Sorry young lady. I'm sure I would howl if I did that, just not for the same reason as you. Gus just sat on the top of the hill and watched us. Last time the fence went down, he got stuck on the outside for a couple of days. The old yeller was not taking any chances this day. Tail wagging "I'm glad to see you." Movement to join the frolic--no way.
School has decreased my Acre walks. I miss them. Today the Lord gave me a still, quiet treasure. And some howls of pure pleasure. What more could an old man ask for? Howllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!