After long thought, for several reasons, and with some sadness, I've decided to stop posting on this blog. You can still find me posting regularly over on my Mountain Mama Blog.
To those of you who've been with me from the beginning, those of you who stop by regularly, those of you who stop by occasionally...I thank you. For your attention, for your support, for the moments in the day you shared with me. I cannot express how much it has lifted me to know you're there.
But it's time to move on...
I will leave you with this, from Maya Angelou, in her recent book, Letters to My Daughter:
Thomas Wolfe warned in the title of America's great novel that 'You Can't Go Home Again.' I enjoyed the book but I never agreed with the title. I believe that one can never leave home. I believe that one carries the shadows, the dreams, the fears, and the dragons of home under one's skin, at the extreme corners of one's eyes, and possibly in the gristle of the ear lobe.
Seems like since we've been living in this house, every winter, we end up with hound dogs. I think, sometimes, that there must be some special marking on our house, some sign that says, "Dog people here." Like a quilt along the Underground Railroad.
Most of the time we see them first down the road and eventually they make their way to our porch, where we feel sorry for them and feed them and offer them a dog house or comfy place to sleep. And, suddenly, we have hound dogs.
First year we had Homer and Daisy. They stayed with us for more than a month until someone from over the mountain came and claimed them while I was in the hospital giving birth to Barrett. Good thing for the owner that he came when he did because I had those dogs scheduled to get fixed.
Last year, we had Honey. I really wanted to keep Honey. I'm pretty sure she was a Plott hound and boy was she a sweetheart of a dog. But she was also a chewer and she destroyed our neighbor's Christmas decorations. To keep peace in the neighborhood, we let him find her a home. Sigh. I do hope she's happy.
Last week I saw a hound dog down the road. No collar. A handsome male, perhaps a Treeing Walker? White and brown and black, with definite hound dog ears. I told Paul I'd seen him and figured he'd end up on our porch within a couple of days. Alas, I was off by only a day.
So, meet Harry. He's a fine dog, solid, beautiful, gentle-natured. Molly drives him batty, as she does the rest of us, but he seems to tolerate her somewhat with the occasional deep-throated, hound-dog "Rouf". I'll let him hang around as long as he wants, but I am certain someone is looking for this old fella.
Our little town has a new fresh fish market. Open Friday afternoons and Saturday mornings only. My seafood-loving, mountain-living, wonderful cook of a father is in heaven. Luckily he is also very generous with his interests. And it's payday.
So tonight, on the menu: Never-frozen peel-and-eat shrimp cooked in beer and butter. Never-frozen grouper stuffed with crabmeat, drenched in butter and topped with capers. Steamed asparagus on the side. Mmmm. And you know? Except for all the butter, and, well, the wine we'll enjoy with it, the meal isn't too far off our diet.
Of course, the diet doesn't officially start until tomorrow. And there is some Halloween candy for dessert.
Daytime temps have been in the 60's. Clear, blue blue skies, ridges aflame in color.
Nights have hovered around freezing. It must have dipped below for a while because in one fell swoop, everything is dead: hydrangeas, the last of the tomatoes,the New Zealand impatiens, petunias in the hanging baskets, the zinnias, the straggly dahlias. Even the walnut trees undressed themselves in a day, shimmying out of their remaining leaves, huge walnut baubles dropping all over the driveway and yard.
Maybe this year we will see a good winter, more snow. I haven't yet consulted with the woolly worms, or the almanac. Anyone know what's in store?
It snowed in our area. Only a dusting at our house, but as much as a couple of inches in other places (higher elevations).
Now, although we are in the mountains, snow in October is a rare thing around here. I wonder if this is a predictor of the kind of winter we're to expect this year.
Of course, it's supposed to get into the mid 60's to even the 70's by the end of the week.
Fickle Fall.
Everything is moving quickly along on the house. By the end of the weekend the following was done:
Water connected (to our existing well), new pump installed.
Driveway re-graveled and re-graded. Including our driveway, where the ditch for the well connection was dug.
Baseboard trim, door frames, window frames placed and painted.
Interior walls and ceilings painted.
Doors painted (although not installed).
Garage door installed.
Fireplace surround and hearth completed (I have no photos of this because they just finished it today and I haven't been up to see).
Still to be completed: Cabinets and appliances, bathroom fixtures, closet hardware installed. Heat pump, propane tank (for the fireplace). Floors. Lighting fixtures. Switches, outlet covers. Finish coat painting. Exterior touch-up painting.
Our contracting supervisor tells us he wants to have everything completed, except the punch list, by the end of this month. We hope to close by Thanksgiving and move Dad in before the first of December. They're moving very quickly, perhaps a benefit to us of a poor economy--all the subs are eager to have the work.
Regardless of the reason, I'm glad it'll be done soon and we can move him in before Christmas. My brothers are both coming and we're looking forward to a nice family holiday in our mountain home.