Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

Another rainy start to the day-- I hope that this rain, coupled with the not-very-cold temps and a little bonus sunshine might plump up the last of the squash. Or should I say almost first of it? The growing season is never quite long enough.  I made a big pan of applesauce yesterday. Ninety minutes of peeling and cutting apples-- it takes longer, since we don't spray our trees, and the bird and bug nips, bruises, etc. need to be pared off. That said, I have six pint containers cooled in the fridge. I still have four bags of apples to go, so I can reasonably assume another ten to twelve. Next up: figuring out how I'm going to get those all in the freezer. A good problem, to be sure, but it will take a little organizing. We have strawberries frozen. Blueberries frozen. And meat, of course-- but down in the bottom there are big things, like a turkey and a couple of hams. One of those will likely get taken out to thaw and cook up-- a festive meal, even without a holiday. I hate to...

I wasn't going to rant about the breaking news from Cornell U., with the nefarious and disgusting situation --the drugging and gang-raping of a young woman-- settling in my mind like a lead weight. The perps got an essay as punishment. Thank goodness for the doughty student paper and its reporters; someone has to have some backbone, some innate sense of righteous anger, about this horrifying mess.  What struck me most, though, and I'll probably rant on for a bit, is the term that has been "invented" to describe the situation, that young men --referred to as "boys"-- were given a light punishment, that the frat is still active and associated with the campus, that there are others --many others-- who knew about the situation and who did not one damned thing. The term? "White collar rape."   It's perfect in its connotations. For time immemorial, men --especially those of privilege and influence, or whose families have that kind of social and eco...

Oddly warmish (53 degrees), light rain, a bit of a breeze. We are lucky to live where we do; other areas just south of us are getting hit hard by this September storm. Other areas of the country are getting hit by other storms. Hawaii is getting particularly hard-hit. The oak trees are dropping a ton of acorns (mast year) which usually means a difficult winter. O yay. Though the Old Farmers Almanac says, for our area, mild and dry. Who knows? Certainly, we'd like to be able to depend on the information from NOAA and other official sources, but with their funding slashed so much and the official federal denial of all things weather and climate-related, we are left with our best guesses in a lot of ways. I will keep my eyes out for a woolly bear caterpillar.  We'll head out to church today, find breakfast somewhere (if the leaf peepers have left us any), and then come home. The plan for this morning is to do some of Holly's catechism homework. This having one class a month an...

Saturday. It's been a long week, and it's felt like pushing string most of the time. It could be because I've been functioning at a compromised level due to the stupid head cold. It could be that the national news and all the awful ads on TV and everywhere else has been a little more pervasive every day. It could be that I've taken on a little too much and have no extra time. It could be that, at the end of the week, I got to keep one dollar of my two-week paycheck (o those pesky bills). Whatever the reason, it's Saturday, and I'm still in my pjs at almost 8am, and I do not care.  I worked straight through, going from school to getting the windshield done, to getting the week's groceries, to doing laundry, making dinner, herding Holly, etc. yesterday, and I'm frankly tired. I have a weekend to-do list, as well, but for right now, I'm not doing. Just not doing. Just not. We have a humongous pile of apples for me to work through, but those will keep a ...

  9-25, now affectionately known as "Dolly Parton Day"-- why not? Let's live a life of compassionate joy.  There's just so damned much to be depressed about, and people are hurting all over-- literally and figuratively. But the sun still comes out. There was a lovely dragonfly I spotted yesterday. Flowers are blooming, bees are still collecting pollen, and it feels almost ungrateful to be walking around in a dark cloud.  I need to do better. We all need each other to do better. Let's live loudly, boisterously, unapologetically taking up as much space as we can, lifting others up and bounding down the path towards whatever thing it is that brings us to a happy moment.  Have a good day, friends. Make it a good day. Spread a little love. C Dolly and friends..." Light of a Clear Blue Morning "

It is 31 degrees, light frost-- I am not sure if the covers worked, but we'll see. At any rate, it's rather chilly, inside and out. G is going in a bit later, so he vacuumed the pellet stove out, and it's doing its job nicely, albeit later than usual. It's hard to believe it's supposed to be 70 later. Ah, fall. The documentary last evening was good because Bishop Barron does a nice job of weaving in Catholic history, faith, and the architecture of the cathedrals in France. It was good to go out and see it, and it was equally good to be home by 6:45, at which time I grabbed dinner and watched Jeopardy, flipped through some mundane stuff on the TV (all the shows I like on Britbox and Netflix won't have new episodes for a couple more weeks), and went to bed at 9:45. This cold is dragging me down a bit, but I manage.  Work is fine, kids are okay, but there's very little to call a spark lately. I don't know if they are all sick, or I have a whole lot of medio...