Fox Haven Journal

Beau February 21st, 2010

A rainy day today with colder days and freezing nights on the schedule this week.  But yesterday?  Oh my goodness, it was a glorious 50+ degrees Farenheit yesterday!  I took full advantage of the intermittent sun and almost balmy temperatures by wearing a t-shirt around all day!  Okay, most of the day.  The cold came back in the afternoon and I put on a sweatshirt.

But with visions of spring in mind,  I took advantage of the temps and hooked up a hose to wash cars.  The boy helped and it was great… gave them a good clean up, and even washed and mopped out the garage that was so dirty from winter road grime.   Yeah, the cars will be dirty again in a day or two, but it felt good to clean them up all the same.  

As if to join me in my reverie, I saw several bluebirds darting around the trees playfully and singing to each other.  A cardinal sat high in an ash tree calling to mark his territory, and throughout the day I saw and heard a half-dozen groups of geese migrating. 

These were the white-fronted geese,  flying incredibly high with their flute-like whistling calls.  I haven’t seen them since October, but they were probably looking for open water.   I took this picture as they flew over the house and it came out with a neat halo around the sun.  

I also managed to clean up the old truck with the messed up clutch.  I’m still fiddling with it trying to find a solution other than a $600 repair bill.  Bleeding the clutch on these old trucks is a painful affair.  The best recommendation I found includes using 3 people for the job.  But hey, I almost got it working.  Tightened up the system, added more fluid, checked out the mechanism, pumped it like heck… it seemed fine. 

It even worked well enough to carry the garbage cans up to the road.   Of course as I proceeded to turn around on the rural highway… clunk!  The clutch goes out right there on the road.   So I’m sitting in the road (fortunately on the correct side) with my clutch pedal on the floor, and the boy in the seat next to me saying, “I told you we shouldn’t take the truck!”   

Anyway I finally managed to jam it into reverse, and we headed backwards at a good clip down the quarter mile driveway, making a big rut in the soggy grass along the way, and eventually parking it near the house.  That’s a good place for a tow truck just in case I give up fiddling with it.  Arrggh! 

But it really was a beautiful day out there :)   And I managed to find those daffodils…  Just peeking out of the soil, not nearly as far along as last year.  No surprise with the cold and snow, but they’ll be here soon!

And tulips!  I didn’t expect these to come back up.  They were planted a few seasons ago and are usually eaten by rabbits and other critters.  I don’t remember them last year, but hopefully they’ll flower too.

While I cleaned up outside the little Shiba slept on the hillside. We gave him treat and he promptly growled at me… thankless!

*******

* By the way, I wanted to put a plug in about comments for those who use Blogger.   I love to peruse different blogs and make comments, but some of the Blogger comment settings only seem to allow Google or other “name-brand” or Open ID’s for registered users.   A lot of us don’t use an “Open ID” and really like to use the “Name and URL” option for leaving comments, so I recommend considering allowing “anyone to comment” as a setting if you can.   Sometimes folks will come by here and make a nice comment, and I’d like to say hello on your blog too! I think you’ll find you receive more comments from folks who are not using Google or other Open ID registration.  Just a thought; have a great week…

• Gardening , Seasons
• Comments(8)

Beau February 17th, 2010

I know it must be spring somewhere… quite a few latitudes south to be sure. I hope you’re enjoying the weather down there. One of these days we need to come visit.   Ah, but lovely February in Missouri. Where would we be without a little cold and snow?  Okay, it’s colder up north- you guys have me there.   I think I’m just ready for the next season.

I went looking for daffodil tips the othere day, trying to find them poking up through the ground. Too much snow yet to see them, but I know they’re there! Besides, in just a couple of weeks it will be March already. How weird is that?

The weekend past was spent enjoying some new fallen snow, and plowing the driveway.   Finally.  It’s under the snow where the Shiba is sitting… the wind drifted it up a little.

Our cars do fairly well considering the “big dip” in the middle of the driveway.  But it’s a slippery affair. Once last week I was taking a good run back in the driveway with the car squirming all around, steering wheel spinning like four-wheeling through the mud and just barely gaining traction. From the back seat the boy yells, “I feel like a chicken on skis!”  I smiled and complimented him on his description of our ride.

So I finally rigged up the old 6′ blade behind the tractor and got busy. It cleared a wider swath of snow than the little bucket could.   But you can only do so much with a gravel drive if you don’t want to ruin it. There’s going to be a lot of packed down snow no matter what, and most cars do just fine.  This was before we got another 4-5 inches.   You can just see the sunset reflection in the house’s window in the distance.

Besides, the next day it gave us a chance to get out the Flexible Flyer! Surely some of you remember sledding long ago, or perhaps not so long ago? Seems like we had more snow when I was a kid, you know, like when we walked two miles through it to school?  Maybe like everything seemed bigger as a kid, everything seemed snowier too… 

But in the winter I think I lived on the sled. This is one of them… it’s over 35 years old now and the boy is just getting to try it out.

You need some good packed-down snow for it, and the driveway was just the ticket.  At least the icy parts around the gravel patches.   So there we go- on the far side coming back down the driveway. “Get on,” I tell him as I lay down. He climbs on my back and I demonstrate how to properly steer one of these things. “Wheee!” and away we go.

It was pretty fun… except for the part with the yellow lab running right in front thinking this is some new game for him… we weren’t half way down the little hill and the dog, running alongside as we zoom by, reaches out and snatches my hat off my head and runs away! “Bring that back!” I yell but he’s having too much fun. We roll to a stop with the boy laughing and the dog shaking my knit cap like a rag doll.

Thus educated, the boy proceeded to have a little fun.  Even with the limits of our little hill.  He tried the bigger slope to the pond.  Alas the snow wasn’t packed down enough. Then the sled got away and almost ran out to the pond alone. Fortunately a tree stopped it short. Reminded me of my own youthful adventures….

I was ten or eleven years old and liked testing myself.   One snowy weekend morning my brother and I (he a year younger) joined a throng of other exuberant souls at the top of a big hill near some woods. The goal was to see who could start the highest up, and then go down the fastest off a big ramp or jump, fly through the air and then continue all the way through the trees to the bottom.

After watching a few fainthearted boys try their luck, and older ones too, I marched up higher than anyone had gone and stated those fateful words that evey co-pilot dreads, “Watch this!”

Away I went, zooming like mad headfirst toward that ramp looking at the trees beyond.  I was enjoying every second and smiling at the sheer speed, blissfully unaware of the total lack of control I was about to encounter.  Then all at once I knew, with some primeval instinct, that I was about to enter uncontrolled flight….  I hit that ramp and went soaring high into the air, parting with my sled and feeling mad at myself for not figuring it out better as I hurtled toward a huge tree. 

I just remember an enormous “Crash!!!” and the yells of the other kids.  I think someone asked, “Is he dead!?”

It was a long walk home, what seemed like a half-mile but was probably less.  I cradled my right arm to my chest trying not to cry but it hurt like crazy. I looked at it and told my brother I broke my bones in my arm. “How do you know?” he said. “I just do!” and I was more worried about what my parents would say. Finally we arrived home, meeting the folks outside and I let loose, crying that “I broke my arm!”

“Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry… you probably didn’t…lets take a look…” said Mom or Dad… followed quickly by, “Oh! Umm… well lets get the car and go to the hospital…”

That day provided a good lesson. Something about showing off while doing something you really had no idea about. In a strange sort of way I remember the gleam in the other kids eyes as I was about to launch myself down the hill. I remember the yells and screams… and I remember liking that.   And then feeling pretty stupid afterwards too.  I think it provided some measure of a data point for the things I would do, and the things I would not do later on.   As much as I’ve always enjoyed speed, sports and fast machines, that single day gave me a bit of experience for how things can turn out differently than you thought.

It wasn’t the last of my youthful lessons by a long shot.   I was pretty lucky a whole bunch of other times… and I’ll probably write about them too.  I wish I could data-dump some of them to the boy… share my stories and mishaps so he doesn’t have to learn them quite the same way. I think Benjamin Franklin once said, “Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other.”  I appreciate his point, and think there’s a lot of wisdom there.

Yet while I’m a big believer in academic learning, mentorship and helping others avoid the hard lessons… most of us seem to have our own stories to tell, and our own scars to mark our experience.   You can only teach someone so much, and our experience is priceless.  It shapes us in so many ways.   Which makes it one of my parenting goals… trying to put it all together so that what shapes the young one as he makes his own choices, isn’t quite so rough along the way.   Time will tell.

• Family and School , Stories Travels and Dreams
• Comments(8)

Beau February 10th, 2010

I will never tire of sunsets, no matter the season, or the place.   I see the dawn and dusk of each day as constants that mark and celebrate our journeys through life.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The landscape has been so very bright of late, with that good bit of snow that makes you feel winter has really come.  And soon enough I’ll be happy to say, “and gone!”.    Even a few snow days off from school has tempered the boy’s excitement.  Still we had a chance to frolick about yesterday and marvel at winter’s beauty. 

I see our little snowfall and can only wonder what waking up to two feet of new snow must be like for those of you back East.   Our rural schools are mostly closed, simply because there’s so many twisty country roads that the buses can’t get around to very well.   Personally I like living in a place where the plows can’t get to everywhere.   Keeps you on your toes just enough to not take things for granted, at least as much as we usually do. 

If I’m lucky (or motivated!), some wayward plowman will do something with our driveway. Stay warm out there.

• Landscapes , Seasons
• Comments(7)

Beau February 4th, 2010

Well, it seems I’ve struggled with the written word the past few weeks.   I’ve been trying to catch up in so many other areas and somehow a quote by John Lennon comes to mind that, “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.”

Yesterday we were outside in the sun and the boy said it felt like spring already.   I think he’s on to something, even though it’s pretty cold and another storm is around the corner.  I had that first twinge of spring yearning too, and the knowledge that it’s going to come quickly now.  Time to get those seeds ordered that we don’t have, and get some planted for starts.   Soon we can even put potatoes in the ground.    After I clean up the garden that is.   And the shed, the bees, the barn, maybe some chickens, the engines…

Today is a chance to look back a bit though.  It’s the anniversary of my father’s passing five years ago.   So many thoughts come to mind, and it would be nice if I could share some brilliant journalistic form and a few pictures to mark the day.   It was a difficult time though, and he could have come through just fine.  But he didn’t.

In his last years he had several operations for replacing hips, fixing a heart valve and a widening in his aorta.    He grew strong again in those years, enough to enjoy his family, his beloved golf and the ability to work on the property.  

I remember talking with him while cooking steaks on the grill, and looking over the pond.  He was 77 years old, and he said more than anything he was so thankful that he could still work around the house and do things that mattered.   He made it to one more birthday a few months later, and a few weeks after that.  

He was outside working a bit when he had a pain in his chest, and Mom took him to the hospital where he was transfered to another.  I met him there that afternoon, and he was in good spirits.  I said, “You’re a turkey…”   and he said, “I am a turkey…”  Our little joke for the challenges he was facing again.  We talked and I told him I loved him, and he told me the same.  I saw him again briefly that night while Mom stayed with him in intensive care, getting ready for surgery. 

Early the next morning he was on the operating table and actually came though the operation, almost.  When they gave him more blood as the surgeon was finishing up, somehow there was an allergic reaction and they couldn’t correct it.   Mom called me while I was picking up the boy at preschool.   I took him to the park, and we talked about his Bepaw going to heaven.

A couple of weeks later I remember cooking breakfast early one morning while the little boy was getting dressed upstairs for school.  He took a little longer than usual, and I remember calling to him.   “I’m coming…” he yelled back, and shortly came walking down the stairs.  I was surprised as he already had his socks on which was usually a struggle for him at four years of age.    

I told him that was great as he sat down to eat, and he said “Well Daddy, guess what?”  I said “I don’t know, what?”   And as simply, and earnestly as could be he said, “Bepaw helped me put my socks on this morning.”    I didn’t really know what to say, but after my heart skipped a beat I smiled and told him “That’s nice…”

I asked him about it once a few years later.  He didn’t really remember, but thought it was neat.   It was, and I can only wonder.

Dad was a good man, a good father… and one of the good guys in so many ways.  I’ll probably share a few stories about his life in the years ahead. 

He’s sitting with Justin, our late Basset Hound in the picture above.  They were buddies, and went everywhere together in the little golf cart for a couple years while we were overseas.   This picture was from July 4th in 2004;  Justin was scared because of some fireworks, and snuggled up to Dad to hide.     I figure they’re off somewhere together romping around a bit, probably on a golf course.  

Life still happens, just about every day.  I’m trying hard not to miss too much of it, and to remember the things that make it beautiful.

• Family and School , Reflections
• Comments(13)

Beau January 27th, 2010

Helped a little Junco yesterday… he flew into the porch window and was laying on the ground stunned, nearly a little frozen meal for the cats.  Brought it in and warmed it up overnight.  In the morning it was flitting about… caught it in a butterfly net and carried it outside. Brrrr! The bird decided to stay in my hand.  I set it on a feeder and he/she just sat there looking around.  After a while I picked it up and set it on the ground for a bit, and it just sat there.  

So finally I picked it up again and said, “Look little guy, you’ve got to get going or something. I can’t feed you inside very well, and the cats will be around soon… so what’s it going to be?”

I laid it gently back on the ground and it flew up to my shoulder.  Sheesh!  So I waited for about five minutes with the wind blowing at 25 degrees… then it jumped on my finger. Once more I laid it on the ground, and this time it flew off about twenty yards. I walked toward it and it flew off again for a bit. Then once more and it flew off to some bushes… hooray! At least I hope so :)

By the way, Jessica Watson just went through a huge storm a few days ago with waves heavy enough to dump her sailboat over a few times. Sounds like it even went upside down with the mast under water for a bit. Can you imagine? A little damage, but otherwise she’s fine and on her way again. I need some of that spirit…

• Birds
• Comments(9)

Beau January 24th, 2010

It’s been a long, wet, soggy, foggy week.  A short stay with the flu (always seems longer than it is) and I missed most of it, but learned once again the value of soup and a light diet!   Haven’t been sick in at least a year, and this one snuck up quick one night and stayed for a few days.   Of course now my appetite is making up for it…  

Lots of rain though, and the ground is really saturated.  Hopefully we won’t see the wind storms we do at times, because that’s when trees tend to blow over.  The birds don’t seem to mind the water though.   Instead of our typical wild birds at the feeders, a host of Mourning Doves showed up early one day to enjoy a breakfast banquet with friends.

I haven’t seen this many before- there were nearly twenty-five at one point and they’re pretty skittish. The least movement or sound and they fly off in complete abandon, nearly in all directions and some thumping on the windows of the house.    Most the year I hardly see them at all, and they hide and roost in the forest pretty effectively. 

Doves are “in season” from about the first of September through early November here in Missouri.  They’re hunted pretty hard in the farm areas, and are not easy targets.   They fly incredibly fast, and are not easy to find.  Usually a dove hunter sets up near a field where they’ll feed early in the morning or late in the afternoon.   It’s not too far off for an average hunter to go through a box of shells and only take a few doves home.   Yes- they’re pretty little as far as birds go, but they sure do make for a fine meal when prepared right.   They’re not like chicken, but more like a lean dark-meat bird like duck, and more tender.     I sure enjoy seeing them come to the feeders in winter though, and glad they can find what they need.

I didn’t get out much this year to help stock the freezer with wild game.  I hope to do better next year because we are really blessed in Missouri with plentiful wildlife to help with food stores and costs.   Not to mention the fishing!  If one wanted to stock a freezer full of panfish it wouldn’t be very difficult.  Instead most of us purchase expensive salmon or roughy or tilapia…     Just our culture these days, and the pace of life. 

One of my boyhood friends loves to fish, but doesn’t have much time anymore.  When he’s asked now if he enjoys fishing, he says “You bet!” and then describes in glorious detail how he “goes fishing” and finds the diversity of the seafood section at his favorite grocery store.  

I take for granted the fish we have right in our own pond.  Always like the thought that they’re there if we need them, but we don’t eat them very often.  Maybe this year it’ll be different… we’ll see.    

The ice on the pond is almost gone now.   I wonder if we’ll see really cold weather again this winter?  I don’t know about you, but a little sun would be nice… :)

• Birds , Passing Thoughts
• Comments(4)

Beau January 18th, 2010

It’s often amazing to read about what some people are doing with their lives. I have written of one such person in the past, and I find myself following her progress nearly every day.   Her name is Jessica Watson, and at 16years of age she is making the journey of a lifetime.  There has been much discussion or even amazement at how someone so young could be on such a journey at all.  But I don’t write this to entertain the “Why” or “Why not” of such a trek.

Today I’m simply offering a salute to a fellow adventurer on this great journey of our lives.  Sailing the world in a tiny 34 foot sailboat (see what it looks like from the top of the mast!), She has just in the past week accomplished an incredible feat of rounding Cape Horn single-handedly as part of her attempt at a sailing solo circumnavigation of the earth.   Just sense the excitement as she shares a little of her experience:

Her parents even made the journey from Australia to the Cape so they could fly over her sailboat in a plane. She is now journeying northeast past the Falkland Islands, continuing and only about half-way around the southern seas of our planet. 

One may reflect upon the challenges, strife and human suffering we see throughout the world… but does that diminish the triumph of the human spirit in a different context? As simply as one who reaches out to help others, I believe we can choose to embrace life and each new day as a chance to grow and achieve. We may see human effort and consequence in stark moral terms, and that is our privilege or failing, as the case may be. Sometimes however, others help frame the context of life in ways we may leverage to show us what is possible. To each their own.

For now a young woman has chosen this path for her life. I can find no fault in it… rather it seems to me quite empowering to reflect upon the opportunity and challenges that any of us may accept and accomplish, no matter how mundane or encompassing. She writes of her journey from the heart with such honesty… I find it inspiring, courageous, amazing and even a bit breathtaking to imagine it all. We wish you fair winds and safe passage, and… Godspeed Jessica!

• Books People and History , Stories Travels and Dreams
• Comments(2)