LOVE MY GNOME

 Spent yesterday out on the deck with a gnome named Odin.  Let me explain.

Awhile back I asked my brother-in-law if they'd care to sell the 3-foot tall gnome that I noticed stored in one of their farm sheds.  About a week later, we opened our unit door to leave, and there stood the gnome.  Bro-in-law had left him as a surprise for me.  The paint was chipped off in lots of places, a thumb was broken off, and I knew I would work to make him look like new.

Here's the before picture of Odin....

A photo Dale took of me painting.....

And, presenting Odin, the newly painted gnome........

Odin is a major figure in Norse mythology.  The story of Odin describes how he lost one of his eyes in order to gain divine wisdom.  Since WISDOM is the quality of having knowledge and good judgment, I chose Odin to be his name.

I think Odin might be a trickster, or what some might call a naughty gnome.  I say that because the Welcome sign he holds also has a back side that reads Go Away!  I think that Odin and I are alike.  When I first realized Dale was taking my picture, my naughty self couldn't help but do this......

Yup, there's a naughty streak in me.  Don't know what I'd do without it.  

 

Thank you, Robin, for sharing this bumblebee photo.......

In the last 20 years, the bumblebee population has dropped by 90%.  If this decline isn't stopped, ecosystems will suffer.  The states of Idaho, Maine, New Hampshire, North Dakota, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont and Wyoming have lost the bumblebee entirely.  

I remember when we were kids, there were bumblebees all over the place in the summertime.  Honestly, I cannot recall when I last saw one.  

OLD SCHOOL HOUSE

Woke up at night to the sound of thunder.  During droughts, thunder is a beautiful sound.  Thought I'd lay in bed and savor it, but instead it must've lulled me back to sleep.  

To continue with our afternoon trolley, we drove past the old schoolhouse where my mom went to school as a little girl.  Sadly, the structure is barely standing, having been left to go to ruin.  If only we as a society could have saved these small buildings that, to me, are monuments in themselves.  

I give my mind free rein to imagine her walking through this door as a little girl.  My mind can't help but think how safe the little ones were in this little building.  Today, children go to school in large well-equipped structures, yet they must suffer the fear of not knowing if today will be the day a crazy person enters their school and kills them and their friends.  What on earth has happened to our society in such a short span of time?  

That's why I pay reverence to this structure for the part it played in my mother's childhood.  Next year at this time, chances are good that the little old school house will be only a pile of boards, if that.

Our trolleys may be close to home, but to us, they tie knots in the strings of time that connect us to our past.  

OUR DAY TROLLEY FINDS BEAUTY

All the variety,

All the charm,

All the beauty of life

is made up of

light and shadow.

(Leo Tolstoy)

 

 Here's another photo from our recent trolley.  The car was already past, so we shifted gears.

There's so much to see here....windmill, tree growing inside the windmill, rocky ground, driveway curving to the right, wooden fence post, worn iron gate, all topped by a magnificent blue sky.  I can't help but wonder about the stories this windmill could tell about the people who at one time lived here.  

It's a beautiful day where we live.  Our deck is pretty much completed and looks beautiful.  There's a little bit of painting left in the peak, but that'll be minimal.  Will be nice to put our outdoor furniture back and once again have our happy hour on deck.

Both of us have stuff we need to accomplish today.  My boyfriend asked for a haircut, so I'll pencil him in my schedule.  Yesterday I painted on the ceramic puppy and pretty much screwed him up, so today is re-do day.  That's one thing about painting with acrylics...do-overs are simple.  

Finished the first of the Voyageur Classics about the beginnings of Canada.  We live so close, and I know virtually nothing about the country.  The first I read was Maria Chapdelaine, a tale of French Canada, originally written in French by Louis Hemon (1880-1913).  Learned a lot about the harsh life of those who originally cleared the forests to build their homes and work the land.  An interesting read, the first of the 36-book series.  It's my current big project.  My life needs a big project to tackle and complete.  It's probably the only part of me that is needy.

I'm ordering these books individually on eBay.  The series has a like cover on each book.  However, some books cost more than I prefer to pay.  I'm able to find the exact same book with a different cover, for a lot less.  The cover means nothing to me, so I'm having another layer of fun finding the best prices.  

The September newsletter is published, so now I must think of a topic for the October issue.  This month I wrote a page-article about my Mom's old-fashioned home health remedies that included bits of humor.  

Best get to my coffee and play my three daily word games on the NY Times website.  Then it's off to the household tasks that beckon.

It's been an opportunity of a lifetime to have a swarm of handsome young guys working on the deck.  They're not only at the top end of handsome and well put together, but they are nice and fun to boot.  I take every pleasure out of life that I can, so I'm blaming their handsomeness for my recent absentia.  They're hard-workers, which helps restore my confidence in humanity.

We did go for a trolley one day, which took us to some out of the way places.  Managed to take a few photos.  The one I'll share today is probably my favorite.  We love secluded spots.

I slept in again this morning.  I see it's an overcast day.  We just can't seem to get any rain where we live.  The rivers are very low, and some streams have dried up.  Probably should research the Indian rain dance.  

Ta-ta till the morrow.  Our deck will be finished today!

Just watched the Judge read his verdict in the Henry Dinkins trial.  Having watched the entire trial on YT, listened to the testimony, watched the prosecution's case unfold, I prayed for a guilty verdict.  In Iowa, a bench trial requires the judge to write a report of his findings.  The judge does not have to read this report, but this judge decided to do so.  His report concluded with a guilty verdict of Murder in the 1st Degree and Kidnapping.  October 11th is the date set for sentencing.

Boyfriend got a call a few minutes ago.  One of Venniers needs a board cut to put in the bottom of a cart, so he's down in the workshop doing that for her.  The sky is overcast and has a dreary look.  Very much like fall is walking on center stage.  Am looking forward to getting out the sweatshirts.....my #1 favorite attire.  There was a day when I donned tight-fitting clothes, but now that I'm as round as I am tall....well, I opt for the big and bulky.  It's one of the curses of aging.

For the past while, construction workers have been working on replacing decks and pillars at Venny.  Next week our new deck and two pillars should be finished, and we can then put our furniture back outside.  An old lady like me has enjoyed the young male bodies hovering around our unit.  Have taken photos of the construction for the newsletter editor to include in our next edition.

Spaghetti for supper tonight.  It's been a quiet, relaxed day.  Both of us watched a 45-minute documentary on one of the harshest prisons in the Philippines.  Last evening I watched a documentary that showed the harsh prisons in Singapore, but nothing compares to the awful one in the Philippines.  I'm including a link to the documentary if anyone cares to watch:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8slYgeqGLw

MANHUNT

Have spent long days following the manhunt in Pennsylvania.  There were three You Tubers who worked practically day and night to live stream the search.  People from around the world, including Dubai, were following as the search went on and on and on.  Without these three individuals, the public would not have been informed.  Some nights I stayed up till 2 a.m. glued to the screen.  One day followed another without capture.  Then the night before last the radio dispatchers went silent, and it was thought the dispatching went to an encrypted channel.  Went to bed around 1 in the morning and by morning he was in custody.  

This was a huge life event for me, akin to living through a global pandemic that closed the world down.  Never before have we been able to follow drones, helicopters, SWAT teams, dogs, horses, and LE agencies from across the country scan thick and dangerous forests looking for an escapee.  At the killer's interview following capture, he evidently revealed that the next day he planned to car jack a vehicle to get out of the country.  The timing of his capture was critical, and the LE did a superior job.  

Before I close today, I make a note of a quotation that my boyfriend discovered last evening.  He called it to my attention, because only he knows the pain and suffering I've endured because of certain absences in my life.  Just maybe the quote will help one other person who has experienced the pain of having been dumped like a piece of garbage by another. 

"If your absence doesn't bother them,

your presence never meant anything.

Last night before falling asleep, I wondered how the escapee felt inside a cell of solitary confinement.  One time connected with my employment, I was allowed to tour a maximum security prison.  I saw up close a solitary confinement cell, so my mind was able to envision his surroundings.  Talk about someone having the perfect book to write.  Imagine what he experienced during those 14 days on the run.  Those wooded areas in Pennsylvania have rattlesnakes and water moccasin venomous snakes.  Three times the law enforcement nearly stepped on him, that's how dense the undercover was.  

Salutations to all the agencies and people who worked to get this guy back behind bars.  The dispatchers, too, deserve special recognition for the part they played in directing officers where to go and reporting sightings.  

Today I'm back to reality.  My Venny girlfriend gifted me with a little ceramic dog in memory of Cuddy.  She found it at a thrift store.  To make him all mine, I'm repainting him with acrylics.  His name is Buddy.  He spent an overnight soaking in sanitizing solutions to rid him of any remains from his prior surroundings.  I'm one who insists on all pre-owned things being completely soaked, sanitized and super clean.  Yesterday I applied the first coat of paint and today will do a second.  

Hopefully I'm back on track now and will do a better job of posting.  Ta-ta.

TWO TOADS

Debbie sent me this picture she took of two toads sitting side by side.  What amazes me is their coloring.  One is almost orange with brown spots, and the other is brown and white.  I'm not a herpetologist, so can't claim to know their species.  To me, they're simply toads of different races.  Can't say that I've ever seen two such as these spending time together.  It's another one of those instances where one has to pay close attention in order to capture a sight like this.  

The little bit I do know about toads is that they don't cause harm to humans.  They don't have teeth, but humans can get allergic reactions from their secretions.  When we were kids, we were told that we'd get warts if we touched a toad.  

All of Earth's inhabitants have a purpose.  Toads provide a service to the ecosystem by eating lots of insects, including mosquitoes.  If amphibians die, insect populations could skyrocket and threaten humans, livestock and plants.  Guess we'd better appreciate these little buggers for what they do while we are not paying attention.

SPECIAL DAY #5

 

This is one of the pictures we took of the many blue dragonflies that were hovering over the farm pond.  Had never seen anything like it before.  They're the blue little things above the tall weeds.

A blue dragonfly is called the Blue Dasher and is the showiest dragonfly.  In some cultures seeing a blue dragonfly is considered a meaningful experience.  It's ironic that Debbie and I would've seen so many blue dragonflies that special day we spent together.  It's another example of how we must get up close to the smallest of living things that share this planet with us.  From a distance, we can't know the blessings that are sprinkled along our path.  Nature affords us a magnificent showplace if we simply take the time to observe the silence that screams to be appreciated.

SPECIAL DAY #4

If I was asked to photograph what PEACE ON EARTH looks like, I'd offer this picture.  

SPECIAL DAY PHOTO #3

Debbie and I had so much fun taking pictures of this toad that's by the edge of the farm pond.  It was almost as if the little guy wanted to have his picture taken. 

Here's a cute little ditty written by J. Patrick Lewis:

Frog and Toad

The look-alike of frog is toad;

They have a similar dress code.

But I should call to your attention

Some differences I thought I'd mention.

A bunch of frogs is called an army;

A batch of toads is called a knot.

A frog leap-frogs over a swamp log;

A toad does not do diddly-squat.

A frog has skin that's smooth or slimy;

A toad has skin that's warty and dry.

A frog enjoys kissing a princess;

A toad prefers kissing a fly. 

SPECIAL DAY PHOTO No. 2

My next special-day memory is a unique wooden silo....

As our golf cart passed by this silo, I looked closely to make sure what I was seeing was for real.  Don't think I'd ever seen an old wooden silo before.  Asked if we could stop close to it so I could get out of the cart and put my hands on the wood to be certain.  Yuppers, it was wooden.  For me, this was a first-time event, and I love those times I see something for the first time.

It was in the 1880s that wooden tower silos were built.  "The Signal of the Silo" is a poem written by Livingston Larned:

And whether made of concrete,

 or stave, or iron, or tile,

Or woods of all creation, 

from up Maine ways to the Nile,

Or whether concrete fellers 

get the local upper hand,

God bless 'em--they're all silos,

 for the better of the land.

A munch of tasty silage, 

makes the dairy records grow;

Who gives a hand for feed bills 

and a winter full of snow.

The herd is plump as butter--

and if folks have cause to thank,

It's because each farmer's silo

 is a sort o' savings bank.

SPECIAL DAY TRIP

Recently we spent an afternoon with family, riding around Minnesota farm fields in a golf cart.  This is something we've done together for years, and the older we get, the more fun it gets.

Along the way, we took pictures that I'll share in the days ahead.  I could put them all in one post, but, to me, each photo is precious and deserves special tribute.

The Monarch Butterfly

Iowa PBS writes in July of 2022, that the Monarch Butterfly was officially designated as endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature.  Scientists estimate that the species' population has dropped between 20% and 90% over the last several decades.

This was the first Monarch that I have seen this summer.  When I was a little girl, these flying flowers were flitting all over the place.     

How blessed are we who have the inclination to observe the devastating damage taking place on our beautiful planet.  Makes me think of the prophecy of the Cree Indians:  "When the last tree is cut down, the last fish eaten and the last stream poisoned, you will realize that you cannot eat money."