Woke in a cloud this morning

Woke in a cloud this morning, everything hazy white, opaque outside, just the silhouettes of the coops and the garden. A big comforter blanket around our house. Up with chores, the squawks and clucks all about. As Richard fed the chickens, I dodged the geese who were demanding grub which we’re low on. Then to the garden where I did a quick once over all the tomatoe vines for hornworms – the past few days I’ve sent 7 to their squirmy maker – then to the pole beans where webbed leaves semaphored that bean beetles were about. 7 of them are now at the bottom of a jar of sudsy water. I wonder if it being autumn, with leaves just beginning to turn in the woods, signals the predators to come out and feast on the first signs of decay? Everything in the garden is still craning for life, that last big burst, dodging frost warnings. We have about 12 good sized butternut squash swaddled amid those huge African looking leaves. Blossoms are still trumpeting out, bright, bold orange. Life! Life! Life! We have about 8 or so acorn squash. The tomatoe vines are teeming with fruit and we’ve already made 2 big batches of green tomatoe chutney that we canned in pint Ball jars. There are pole beans and broccoli, celery, a couple cantelope and about 6 small watermelon, all yearning for warm days. Not a whole lot of those in Vermont’s short growing season. I’m so proud of the garden, it looks grand.

We called in the owls over the weekend. Our friend Susan came with a cassette recording that she played over and over in the moonlit night as we sat around in lawn chairs, wrapped in fleece and flannel. It was a cold night. We all behaved, followed her instructions, sat still, didn’t say a word. We sat for a good half hour, the only sound the click and whirl of the rewind of the recording on her cassette player. Nothing. I could tell she was getting discouraged and a few of our stalwarts were getting cold. But then the moment we began talking, we heard a big hoot in a nearby tree. Like disobedient school kids chastened, we sat down and bit our tongues. Why, I don’t know, because it was our chatter that had attracted it. Again, Susan played the recording. She had said that once they came they would begin a chatter reminiscent of monkeys to display their territorial disgust that a foreigner was in their midst. Jingoism in the animal kingdom. And sure enough, after another break where we began talking to one another, another owl showed up in a nearby tall pine and began a breathy hoot and howl chatter. I was back by our goose enclosure when this was happening and they were stirred up and whispering to one another, their white coats like crook-necked ghost bobbing about. I agree with Richard when he said: “Isn’t it wonderful at our age to get a group together like this and do something completely new.” Yes, yes, yes!

A correction from a blog a few days ago. We went to Middlebury over the weekend and went to the Folklife Center there where the photographic and audio offering was of a drag club that had been in Dummerston, Vt. until 2004. Dummerston is the site of a famous annual Apple Pie contest, the town’s down near Brattleboro in the southern part of the state. My mom and I went one year and though it took awhile to get there we finally found this quaint little town nestled in the woods, tents set up with vanilla ice cream and pies, pies, pies and most of the town populated with leather clad motorcycle riders! Most of whom were 35 plus years old. Very funny, very incongruous, very Vermont. Of course this place would have a famous once a month drag show with Mama and Kitty and Sophie and Chloe. The photos were wonderful and the interviews telling and insightful. My favorite quote: “Everyone has their own drag. It’s their ‘if only I could …’. Fill in the blank and that’s your drag.”

The sun is out. Daphne, one of our loudest geese, just answered one of the roosters crows. It’s time for me to get out and paint a little primer and the newly clapboarded east side of our house.

Have a great day!