Ah well, so much for beautiful Queen Anne's Lace blossoms; by my next walk, the blossom I admired and surrounding grasses had been mowed for hay.
Later, it was all baled up and gone to a barn somewhere.
On a bright note Keoni is back. Very nice to see him and catch up a bit on his month in D.C. There were plenty leftovers in the fridge from company visiting and he dug right in.
Aidan has been occupied in his dad's shop. The result is a crossbow.
Crossbow testing grounds off the back steps. The arrow went past the shed--it aimed left. He's made many modifications improving performance during these hot days that returned to us.
Mostly, existence is about getting through the day's heat by staying occupied in front of fans which we have all over the place including the shop where Aidan labored. It is beautiful out this morning and early temps were a welcome relief before the scorching starts. I hope it is decent enough to enjoy the Storm King Art Center.
Another evening a thundershower took place just before I took a walk.
The prolific green growth is alongside the "shoulder" of the road traversing Crooked Creek.
Aidan is certain now that he is not addicted to an iPad since he is some days away from the demise of his. He continues to get some time on his mom's Mac Air. Still, he looks for a word or gesture or minimal cue that an iPad is somehow going to materialize in his near future. However, he is not bored, as yet.
He and I attacked a 750 piece puzzle of New York City with a second puzzle overlay with 126 plastic buildings and bridges to install on that surface.
Adding skyscrapers.
All finished.
On Tuesday he and his mom went for the day to NYC to meet his Tucson friend Wali and his family visiting their NY relatives. Yesterday, Wendy and Aidan drove to meet John after work to spend the evening at the Philadelphia Zoo which was rented for the sig.com employee outing. Another couple from Tucson is expected any minute for a weekend visit. And, Keoni is due back from D.C. on Sunday night.
The neighbor that put in the long road/drive over "Crooked Creek" at the far end of this property is now building something. I'm assuming a dwelling. Aidan and I once walked down to the end of his new road and saw a clearing made in the woods. By the looks of the equipment distantly observed, so far, I believe a septic system installation must be in progress. It was interesting one day to watch an enormous dump truck load of gravel slowly backing down toward the site for about a quarter mile--sharp 90 degree angles and all.
Twyla's milk is superior, but Penelope's is very goaty and oddly textured leading Wendy to retire her from the milking. Twyla is giving all we need it seems to me. When the goats are let out of the barn they all, youngsters included, go right to the fence to scratch themselves; first along one side and then they turn around and all do the other side.
I wasn't quick enough to photo them all scratching. Maybe later.
The young goats still play, but the boys had to be separated from the girls and weaned besides; poor dears. The boys go out to the pasture with their daddy Snickerdoodle during the day. T-Bone, the whether goat, still keeps Austin company in the horse pasture. The female goats graze the yard at the back of the house, around the barn and round pen. Lots of room so now and then a young one will find it has drifted out of sight of the others, then the air fills with raucous back and forth bleating until a reunion takes place.
One of the brown hens has stopped laying, but the other brown and three whites are still at it. I wonder about the brown one. She might just be too old.
Catching some rays in the empty planter.
The humidity and temp dropped for a few days; a most welcome event. The growth is still fantastically green and flowers are everywhere. I still love seeing the Queen Anne's Lace swaying along the roadsides in the swoosh of the passing vehicles...
...or up close on a walk.
Friday, July 17, 2015
The allure of the raspberries took Aidan and I outdoors yesterday...
The cool, stiff breeze made the porch inviting and Aidan read another chapter of Harry Potter to me.
Wendy took advantage of some of the great local produce, and put together her veggie layered lasagna complete with her first batch of goat cheese mozzarella.
After soccer practice Aidan and I remembered to record July's progress on the piece he is practicing for his eventual auditions. This is Month 2 of the possible 30 months this will take to fully conquer. You already know he likes a challenge.
Today...
At 10:30 a.m. I am at my desk uploading some pictures to my laptop to begin a session of writing. Aidan has awakened and is knocking on my door. He has sleep in his blue eyes and sits on the edge of my bed. I am in the one chair in the room.
"I thought of something we can do," he says. "We could go get some strawberries and chocolate chips and make chocolate dipped strawberries. Do you want to?"
My thoughts review this. Shall I set aside time I'd planned hours earlier? His sleepy eyes win me over as I think about how much fun it is to wake up with an idea and jump into the day with it.
"Yes, we could run down to the Landis (local supermarket) for supplies. Check with your mom and see what she says since she is heading out on her errands very soon. I'll finish loading pictures here while you do that."
He is back in seconds. "Yeah, she says it's fine. But we have to go soon because the last of Nate's hay is coming and she needs us here."
We look up a Food Channel recipe. We only need a couple of ingredients and instructions are simple.
For a few short minutes we are distracted while we try to access his text messages. (His precious iPad is dead. I am almost as grieved as he is with the loss. It is his second one after the first disaster when that one fell from his music stand and slowly went to pieces over weeks--eventually replaced. This one had a similar slow death by cracked screen when without its case it was broken in his mother's purse during a long car ride. Now very reformed and conscientious about keeping it protected he must still go without until some later date when negotiations with parents has yielded a path to a new one. In the meantime, he gets very limited use of his mother's MacBook Air.)
Shopping is swift and we devour a doughnut apiece. Landis makes good pastries, pies and cakes. We return home and his mom is already gone. We text her so she knows we are watching out for the hay.
Well it all turns out OK. The chocolating endeavor is a success though the warm weather keeps the chocolate a little gooey. The hay comes as expected and I find out Nate won the election with plenty to spare having garnered substantial Democratic support besides his own Republicans.
We enjoyed watching his quartet and, also, the July 7th solo. Some of his friends (some as far away as Tucson) have gone to the same SMI along with him.We follow him on Facebook and texting as well. I think he's talked to his mom a time or two. We've grown used to him going somewhere in the summers, but this time I miss him more; perhaps, because I know he'll be off to Georgia next month.
This morning during the time of chocolate I needed some white vinegar for my laundering in the wash machine. The machine needs a small dose each load or stinky molds grow somewhere in the drain system and waft over the porch outside. The vinegar keeps it down. But, the gallon jug was empty, and the toilet paper in the "powder room" next to the washer and dryer ran out. The supplies are down the rickety, inhospitable basement stairs.
Me to Aidan, "Please, would you fetch a gallon of vinegar and three rolls of toilet paper from the basement?"
The stairs rumble and I hear Aidan below, "The toilet paper is packaged. Throw me a scissors."
I take careful aim wondering at my sanity; then, ever so gently lob the scissors handles first toward the bottom step where it lands and bounces to the still rain-wet floor. Success! Nothing is impaled.
Aidan quickly has three toilet paper rolls in hand. "Catch!" he says, and tosses them up to me one at a time and I catch them all. Holding a gallon of vinegar he bounds up the stairs, two at a time.
It's hay and Queen Anne's Lace time again. A couple days ago Nate Yoder baled up the field behind neighbor Joe's and two loads like this went into Wendy's barn...
I learned Nate's name from Wendy and recognized it as the guy I voted for Supervisor at the Volunteer Fire Department booths in the spring. Like many around here he has irons in the fire. I think he has some construction business going, political aspirations, and the hay-baling which he's come to do for Joe for some time that I know of. I voted for him thinking that he knows the area really well, and Aidan knew his opponent and disliked her since she's the "not nice at all" mom of one of his schoolmates.
It is difficult to find out about elections and results here. I'm still learning about how and where are the political lines, and what the governance entities are. There are townships and boroughs which are still a mystery. I see local constabulary in squad cars from time to time and have to read on the doors as they go by to learn where they are employed. I guess you might know all this if you grow up here, but, then again, maybe not since I've heard native Pennsylvanians talking to each other about directions of how to get to some not very far away town or borough.
It's largely Republican around the counties, here and nearby, but I seldom hear the language of the right wing espoused. It seems to be more a tradition of Republican Party affiliation with a fairly generous liberal-mindedness regarding issues of the day, than an idealogical persuasion. Will be interesting to see how the next year sounds around the neightborhood.
Aidan has earned money mowing and special chores. He spends it mostly on soccer shoes and socks.
A friend of John's gave a pair of his shoes he once played in besides the other four pair Aidan bought. He keeps his shoes spotless.
There have been a number of trips to the local parks to keep up soccer skills. Aidan meets one of his soccer buddies at a particular park and they usually get a couple more kids to stage a little competition. Monday, they caught a half hour game with a couple of the older kids and had a good time with the challenge. Mostly, they play as long as I can hang out. Usually, I time it around 1 1/2 hours.
Fourth of July we stopped after a soccer time for a super treat cone from our favorite ice cream establishment.
Summer is trading rain and hot, humid times in rapid successions. The flora and some of the fauna are basking in fecundity. The dogs not so much, and Toby gets very vocal in early morning complaining when his coat is wet--couple that with his mud-caked feet from his below deck outhouse, and shoulder-sitting is out. He cleans himself up and waits for me to give him some goat milk to make him feel better. Aidan and I like Twyla's milk which is sweet and light. Penelope's is not, but Toby doesn't care.
Here is where the hay came from...behind Joe's barn.
the thick, moist air isn't moving the birds are quiet the crickets aren't the sky is 8:00 p.m. and it's 7:00 p.m. the dogs' location is noted by the odor from their warm, limp coats
deeply distant thunder sounds again and again lightning winks
the winks come nearer and increase to streaking flutters quick behind high-decibel roars crack the sound barrier rain begins
the falling water pushes the heat away breathing is a cool sigh
The neighbors down-sizing with their kids grown up and out of the house reminds me of my own down-sizing endeavors that have taken place; the most recent, of course, coming to Pennsylvania with what I owned packed into my pony Subaru, and the rest in nine cartons aboard a Greyhound bus.
After several attempts to civilize my 8 by 11 foot bedroom here in Wendy and John's household. I arrived at what is still a work in progress, but mainly is livable and has entered the realm of comfort, sustainability and even, sometimes, sanctuary.
I can see in the world of housing and decorating there is a trend away from the McMansion's of the greed glut, and has entered a phase of making what you have work, and, in some cases, even resorting to tiny houses. I like that. Grandma and Grandpa Steinbach, ancestors of my mom's side, arbiters of a true frugality, keepers of the dictum "live within your means" could have held their heads high with this recent trend. They worked for and took care of what they had, had what they needed, lived modestly with enjoyment, wasted nothing, and reared six kids.
I'm sure my iPhone fits into that picture, though by Grandma and Grandpa's standard it is expensive, since they did have the fundamental stuff of their era. And, I have mine.
The room measures 8'W x 11'L x 7'H = 88 sq ft area, or 616 cu ft overall. My pony Subaru would fit nicely with room for a canoe on top.
Corner to corner is 11 feet. The panorama feature makes the picture bend. But, you get the idea of the layout.
And, the other long wall of the rectangle. The window (left) faces south southeast.
Far end of the room. This of the two windows faces slightly west of south. Good light all day.
The entry end of the room. My shoes have a home on the door. Toby isn't in the house to chew off my shoestrings.
So that's the four walls.
Details...
The two drawers under the bed are holding mostly art papers, portfolios and sweaters, right now. The nightstand is removable--one side hooks onto the bed frame, the other has legs standing on the floor. This is all of a good hardwood and the mattress is excellent. Yea.
After long consideration about a wardrobe, there is no closet except in Wendy and John's area, I came up with this chrome wardrobe since it has moveable shelf features, hooks to hang things on it, it's very sturdy, and it's not constrained by doors and side walls so I can fit odd things on it. To the left between the wardrobe and the wall is an ironing board that has seen a few poker games with Aidan. Baskets are filled with clothing, other containers are a mix of art supplies, electronic devices, tools, binoculars, sewing supplies--even the sewing machine (which I don't want to expose to the extremes of temps up in the attic).
The business side of the room--computer, printer. And pictures. I didn't fill all the space with pictures since too many make a crowded atmosphere. I'm not satisfied with them sitting on top the shelves and don't quite know what else to do about them since they are of my kids, grands and great-grands and I'm loving them.
The table is my drafting table on casters (one broke) that I moved in from the barn where it was too hot, too cold, afloat with hay, bedding and feed dust--no place for Goldilocks. A collapsible table (or none) would be a better choice. Keoni added the ceramic jar that's just right for brushes. That's Ridge Road out the window.
Aidan has added an origami turtle and leaping frog plus the stuffed frog to keep me company.
I've reduced my files to the blue notebooks. Much can be stored electronically these days.
The file cabinets hold all my picture albums, desk supplies and electronic stuff. There's a tiny shredder and cordless vacuum underneath. The double layered boards on top are single side veneer plywood cut to size at Home Depot; sanded and varnished by myself. Before Keoni left for DC he crawled around beneath on a wire-reduction project for me.
Next is the bathroom which is almost the same dimensions as my bedroom, a half foot narrower, and shared with my two grandsons. That carries with it a sharing of the water supply with them as well as Wendy and John. Water supply does not imply it is the usually heard reference to running out of hot. It's the supply. We must be careful, so showers are staggered as are laundry loads, dishwasher loads, and, so far, we're fairly successfully. The last thing anyone wants is the water to run out with shampoo still in your hair...in winter.
The well, to explain, is producing just fine though it's dimensions need to be altered in some way which has been explained to me a couple of times, but what malfunction is happening still eludes me. It has to recover if we run it dry which it does in 20 minutes to 2 hours depending on what you need to do next with water. The cure I understand is to deepen the well, but that can't be done since it was made before code, and is too close to the house. There is another, newer well on the property which might provide an alternative if running the line isn't too expensive and a lot of other things involved. But if you have shampoo in your hair you can walk over to the pasture and rinse your hair with the hose...in summer.
Now that I've talked about water, there are the grandsons sharing the space with me. One of them is prone to scatter management of sundries and personal tools, and the other isn't. Let's say towels are hung up and dirty clothes are carried away to bedroom laundry baskets. And let's say I don't mind putting away strewn sundries and swabbing it all down and leave it at that. There have been no squabbles in two years.
Keoni's departure leaves an empty towel rack by the door. It means I now get the first early shower in the mornings. (I think I hear the Hallelujah Chorus.)
The triple mirror cabinet gives each of us a portion.
This portion has drawers below that I utilize for my array of personal items and tools, and a cabinet for our bath linens.
Where did those nine boxes I sent on the Greyhound go? This is my space in the attic. Little by little it evolves. The winter things that are exchanged for summer are there including Toby's igloo parts. It is usually too hot or too cold to stay up there long. The clothes tree was in my room and had to leave when I dragged in the drafting table. I love the old wooden desk chair from some former owner. It is the most comfortable in the house, but it tips over backward. Alas.
The greatest down-sizer of all time, Henry David Thoreau, and my grandparents would probably have some suggestions, but in all likelihood give my approach to "less is more" a nod of approval.
In the end, it's all stuff. As Toby assures me, "We're all mad here!"
So far, Aidan has found it impossible to be bored; instead, with school out is in a delirium of activity of his own creation. Nothing is out of the scope of possibilities. For example, a scrap of thin plastic is rolled into a very serviceable shooter; so much so, his mother confiscates the materials when she finds the shooter's toothpick projectile passes through a cardboard box lid.
Other ferments of activity included this...
This started from one of those projector drawing things on a stack of books in Aidan's room aimed at the back of his bedroom door onto typing paper he'd taped there. It grew. More paper was taped on, the stack of books grew higher and so did the drawing. At about the top of the ankles I gave him my drawing pencils to add to the mix. Before long he had this. We carefully peeled it off the door and it's now, as pictured, on the dining room wall.
I offered big paper but he was invested in his taping job; already at ankle height when he showed me. I kind of like the pieces taped together, actually.
There is a limit set on Aidan's iPad time, but I don't fully understand what it is. I do see some tugs of war over its usage. When he is not on it, there is, of course, plenty of cello to do.
Among the activities of iPad time, Aidan sent me these:
He's been experimenting the last couple of days with time-lapse...
We are reading books to each other. He, to see if he can engage me in Harry Potter; I, to see if I can engage him in Huckleberry Finn. We take turns reading out loud one chapter at a time from our respective books while lounging in the afternoons on the porch--or living room if the temperature is too high.
Keoni texted these. He is not bored either...
The neighbors across the road are not bored. Their kids grew up and they are down-sizing...
Like many roadside sales, this one is "honest john". The property went up for sale late spring. Since then, there are items left road-side; this one with the $100 sign.
So boredom hasn't come up, but it isn't August yet.
