This Year at The Acres: A Recap December 30. 2014

The Year of the Vortex and the Monsoon Spring is all but over.  The Acres seemed somewhat unaffected although the iris did not have a good year at all, and a beautiful redbud did not comeback. The Lenten Roses lost their leaves, still bloomed wonderfully, and are now in full leaf again. A few of the flowering trees and shrubs did not bloom as profusely as "normal," but still added some beauty to the treks. The Monsoon did make for a weedy year in the beds, but the flowers didn't seem to mind the competition.
The Four Landmarks seem oblivious to it all. The Sentinel stands guard serenely. The ancient red maple hid the cave from the passerby out on the road all spring and summer, majestically domed the turn in the driveway, and gloriously turned the autumn red. The bog-swamp excelled. Yellow flag and blue flag and Louisiana iris bloomed wherever they were planted, spread even, and colorized the environs. Who knew a swamp could be so beautiful? And its sister the pond is now an aquarium. Perhaps I should call this The Year of the Goldfish? And, of course, the last Landmark, the wild area--was as lovely as ever--if not more so. No doubt in its history there have been many a cold winter and many a flooded spring. It just goes on blooming. In fact, there was a delightful increase in spiderwort and monarda. Don't you just hate it when there's more and more bluish purple flowers in your life? Me, too. And "cosmetically" I believe I have found a pathitis that I love, and I have no inner voice urging me to change the layout. I believe I am cured.
Other random highlights?
The first iris in Mom's bed bloomed--a dwarf yellow blue. And the bed itself is doing wondrously.
A couple more pussy willows have taken root in wet areas, and a weeping willow somehow got started in the middle of the bog. Needless to say, it loves wet feet. Either I didn't notice it last year or it grew ten feet this year. Both are possibilities.
Peaches for the first time. Pears by the zillions. Blueberries. Blackberries, Apples. "Treats" for my walks on The Acres.
New bed experiments. Well, they will be a highlight if they do well. Iris pot bunkers! If they excel and turn May, June, and October into Iris Heaven, I may turn the entire Acres into a pot bunker.
Disaster was avoided when the tree fell on the side of the house. Three of the walnut trees are now gone because of it. The "forest" behind the house will now have a great deal more sunlight. That should create some interesting surprises in 2015. Disaster turned into triumph. Fascinating how that all works out. Hey, in fact, it was the guy cutting down the walnuts that alerted me to the goldfish "infestation."
Yep, all in all, the Lord blessed me with another beautiful year at The Acres. Now, I must fight the dreaded Anticipation Disease until spring rolls around. Well, the pussy willow by the pond, as I love to remind you every chance I get, is already budding.  (If you have a pond, plant some pussy willows!) The daffodils are surreptitiously spreading under the frozen sod. The new Arbor Day striplings that I planted are waiting to come alive in the spring a promise of the future beginning anew at The Acres--members of the "we'll be blooming long after the old man's gone" club.
All in all, I can only thank the Lord for another year of beauty on The Acres.

Thank You Father. Can't wait to see the surprises my Gardening Angels have in store for 2015!

Today at Iten's Acres: Huh December 24, 2014

Huh. Sixty degrees today with thunderstorms. Snow flurries tonight. Single digits by next weekend. Lord, we need a nice snowfall between now and those single digit temps. Say, three to five inches would be nice. A lovely, warm blanket for The Acres. Just asking.

Huh. Gas is below two dollars in Mount Gilead this morning. Naturally I just filled up yesterday. So, let's see--couple round trips to Cleveland maybe? " Oh, look I need gas. And it's under two dollars! Wow. Cool."

Today at Iten's Acres: One Day in the Life of The Homesteader December 24, 2014

A Day in the Life of The Homesteader
My servant is outside busy walking and moving a few things--I think I saw him trudging toward the front of Homesteader's Acres a few moments ago. That boy sure likes spending time outside. Oh well, it can't hurt him at his age I guess. He needs all the exercise he can get. Chubby old thing.
Anyway, I spend my evening and nights sleeping on Mom's old pink blanket at the end of my servant's bed. I love that thing. Comfortable!! Occasionally in his restlessness he knocks it on the floor so I sleep down there. Once in awhile I sleep in the green chair by the front doorwindow so I can keep an eye on the nighttime activity on my acres. It's amazing what you can see with two good eyes--unlike my servant.
At around six every morning I have to work on getting the slave up. He thinks I can't tell time--brain-dead human. (I wonder how he thinks I wake up at the same time year around no matter how often the humans keep changing the clocks? Slow learner, I guess.) Usually a cold nose in the face and a few choice words about the danger of laziness gets him moving. Sometimes he rolls over moaning as if that will deter me from my work or rouse some form of pity in me. Duh, I don't think so. (He is a slow learner remember.) My anti-rollover strategy? Two actually. Claws in the back. Heh-Heh. Or I just slip under the bed, go to the other side, and begin the cold nose lecture all over again. He has no chance.
Once he's up, I flop down in the middle of the doorway to be sure he understands who the boss is as he has to walk his way around me. I let him turn on the light--as if I need it--and plug in the computer. Of course, I let him pet me while he's doing that. That is why they put the sockets down low, you know. Then, I let him go upstairs to play around in the water for awhile. Silly humans. I do make him pet me half-way up the stairs and at the top of the stairs. The proper training is such hard work at times. Being a good master, I sit quietly while he plays in the water and dries himself off. I even let him shave off his fur without too much fuss. Why in the world someone would do that and then go outside in the cold is beyond me. Humans make such little sense. When he gets dressed, I'm quiet. As the socks go on his feet, I let him pet me again. Hey, his hands are down there anyway. Once he's dressed, I let him have it if he continues to dawdle. It's time for my breakfast, I've been kind and patient, let's get with it chubby old hairless one. I give him a loud, firm lecture all the way down the stairs. Such a slacker!
While I'm at breakfast, he's allowed to play on the computer. Heaven knows what he does on that thing. ( Of course, if he tries to sneak a bite of pound cake for his breakfast without sharing that deserves the scolding I give him.) Otherwise, I just sit there--well, maybe I softly remind him that I'm sitting right next to him in easy reach--and let him pet me. Who needs two paws to run a computer?
Then, most days he goes somewhere. (after he cleans my litter box). And, of course, he must throw out the bird seed so I can have some entertainment while he's off doing who knows what. Nothing important, I'm sure. He certainly does nothing important when he stays home. Other than provide a lap for me to sleep on while he pretends he can read.
How do I spend my days? For exercise I race up and down the stairs--elephant races he calls them when talking to his friends. I call them keeping an eye on the enemy. Front doorwindow, side window, downstairs' back window, upstairs' windows. I need to keep an eye on those mongrels in the neighborhood. Can't be lax with the enemy around. He probably thinks they're "cute." Stupid Human. Anyway, I spend most of the day sleeping--the green chair is lovely on a sunny day. Ahhhh. When he gets home from wherever, I greet him magnanimously at the back door, tell him all about my day, let him sit in the green chair and supply me with the lap to sleep in after a few moments of letting him pet me. I think I have the slave pretty well trained by now--just took a couple of years. If he gives me any trouble, there's always the shed. He should be somewhat comfortable out there as long as he's nice to the squirrels. Well, that's my day at Homesteader's Acres. I had best get down from the computer before he wanders in. Humans. Such smug, gullible creatures.Think they rule the world. Ha! Until next time, this is The Homesteader pawing off. Oh, yeah. Have a great Christmas. My mom told me that you can trace our line back to one of the cats that was in the barn in Bethlehem. (Well, it was a cave of sorts actually) Anyway. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Don't you wish you could be the cat's meow?

Walking Iten's Acres: Winter Is Here December 21, 2014

Yep. Winter is finally here. And I have two weeks at The Acres to enjoy it. The walks are a tad on the chilly side, but more than worth it. The serenity is healing for my old hermit soul. Homesteader enjoys having me to boss around all day. She's still quite the conversationalist. And wake up time never changes. She is insistent and unrepentant. The pond/aquarium isn't completely frozen over yet, but there is no sign of any creatures. No muskrats even.
The ground is frozen--or at least starting to. Even the mole mounds are stone-like. The woods are no impediment to my ability to step out the back/front door and see all the way to the back of The Acres. The pines and spruce show up dramatically. All the green stuff is having its "day." I admit: I am reading for a good snow. But it's going to be in the fifties early next week. Ahhhhh well. One of these days.
I will enjoy the break. Tons of reading to do. Tons of grading to do too. Lots of walks. Maybe a little work. Servitude to the little white master. Birds to keep fed. A letter or two to write. Many hours of silence and solitude. Good times indeed.
Three months 'til spring!

Walking Iten Acres Ignoring the Work December 14, 2014

Another wet fall day at The Acres. I haven't stumbled onto anything new this week. Of course, I didn't get a ton of walking in. Busy time of year as first semester winds down at WC. I did make the mistake of going by Lowe's on Thursday. Actually, I was stocking up on food for my feathered friends. I don't feed them as much as I did when I moved out here--I'm too cheap (or is it cheep?). But I do have several feeders scattered here and there around the frontback of the house: a soot feeder, a couple thistle socks, and a couple "bar" hangers. And I throw some stuff on the ground behind the house every morning. There's just something serene--not to mention beautiful--about having lots of bird activity as I begin my morning walks or take an after school cruise in the early evening. It's just right--is all I can give you for a reason to do it. By the way--a huge increase in snowbirds the last week or so. Read what you want into that.
Well, back to the "mistake." Lowe's still has boxes of iris for sale at a dollar a piece. And some of them have green shoots still.  So, I can't help but pick a few up as I enter the store. Have no idea what color they are. Planting them this late--even iris--is probably not a bright idea. But for a dollar? The queen of flowers? Come on. Definitely worth the risk. Can't resist. If the box is still there, I'll most likely be planting iris in February. And they are being planted in the most unlikely of places. I mean, it's already a risk, so . . . Hey, if they survive and bloom, I will be my hero. So, take that. And then wait 'til you see how many one dollar iris I by next December.
I also ordered my ten "save the planet" ten cheapo trees from Arbor Day for next spring. You know those trees that will beautify The Acres for whomever comes after me. (Lord, don't let it be a Rehoboam--or even worse--a Walmart.)  What? Oh, I ordered the following--a mixture of food for the birds and autumn color for me if I live to 99 like Mom: a red flowering crab apple, a serviceberry,. a Japanese red maple, a real red maple, a beech, a sassafras, a sweetgum, two hazelnuts, and a dwarf crepe myrtle for a huge planter I have inside the house. They'll arrive in mid-April or early May, and I'll get to plant them still in their dormant stage probably and get the thrill of anticipation on my spring walks.
One week until winter, you know. After that early blast of cold, it has been a fairly typical wet, chilly, frosty Ohio autumn. As I walk around and make note of all the work I need to do, I procrastinate by saying I'll do a lot of it over Christmas break. I'll need a new excuse in January so if you have any good ones please pass them on. I've got some good ones already though: "It really won't take that long to do the work once I start" (same excuse I use for not grading papers); "I don't want to encourage Arthur by working in the cold or wet"; "When I find gold on my property, I can hire someone to do the work while I supervise" (I'll bet I could be a great "backseat" gardener); "I don't want Homesteader to be lonely--who will she nag if I'm not inside with her as a ready target?" That said, I am more than open to any good ones to be used later.
Yep, I enjoy my walks. There's just something refreshing about putting off work until another time. So restful. Let's see. Where would be the best place to dig for gold? Well, where would be the best place to encourage Gus to starting digging holes to look for gold? Hmmm. I'll let you know how it works out--or not.

Walking Iten's Acres: Discoveries December 6, 2014

Cold. Rainy. Windy. A December day at The Acres. Good day for a walk or two. Gus joined me for the morning walk totally oblivious to the weather. He bounces regardless of nature's attempt to slow him down. The little hound whooshes by on occasion trailing who knows what in this water-soaked landscape. Homesteader rushes from door to window to upstair's window to keep an eye on her furry neighbors. Little do they know that they are being spied on by the CIA--Cat Investigative Association. Nosy is as nosy is.
I find this time of year humbling and informative. Surprises arise every fall and winter once the foliage is gone. I have planted so many things in the last decade that I forget where everything is or even if it still is. The vision provided by this season leads to discoveries. Six things so far this year. I have stumbled upon two small iris in places where I had no expectation of stumbling. Now, you know that's proof of senility. The old man forgetting where he put an iris? Impossible--except it is obviously true. The most humbling find occurred in mid-November: a twenty-five to thirty foot tall redbud in the canopy area. Almost thirty feet tall; right by the house; right by where I park the red wagon every day. I've walked by it a thousand times. Didn't notice it. Such powers of observation--stunning, eh? I'll be looking for its blooms in April. How did I miss them? Ugh.
The three other surprises are "understandable" and exciting. Hey, come on. You know I'm the strange old man that gets excited about discovering new flowers. These three were all in shady, tree areas. I can forgive myself for not noticing them. I can even vaguely remember putting them there once upon a time. Under the canopy (okay, under the once invisible thirty foot tall redbud) I discovered a Lenten rose. Small but healthy. Love Lenten roses! And they stay green all winter! And then, way out in the back forty "woods," I discovered another one! An even larger one! Two Lenten roses to hopefully colorfy early 2015. I wonder what color they are? The last find was in the trees. A huge patch of lungwort. Ugly name I know. Petite, beautiful blue, pink, white flowers on the same plant. And in the shade! They, too, stay green in the winter. I knew I had one patch; had no idea another patch was about. And it's larger than the one I knew about. Isn't in amazing how many marvelous encounters with beauty one can have in the starkness of life's journey. I, of course, will still be looking--even on rainy, double-hat days at The Acres. (A stocking hat under a baseball hat in case you were trying to visualize double-hat days). There is never a time in our walk when beauty is not waiting to be discovered. Hope you find some, too. It just takes expectant looking. Promise.