Chain Saw Grandma Returns

I'm concerned that the dog and cats are chilly with the furnace set to sixty degrees at night. Even though it's hard to get out of my cozy flannel sheets, their comfort is such a high priority that I am motivated to get up and get the fire going.

At last, the days are getting cool enough to cut firewood. The road dust is still a problem, but the time has come to run the chain saw.

Today, I cut up the sycamore limb that fell near the pond in the summer. I'm rather fond of sycamore for the sound it makes when knocked together, which is rather like bowling pins. It's quite heavy. I understand it won't split for anything, but I only cut the limbs. They are just my size. I'm not sure where sycamore stands on the BTU's scale, but maybe not knowing is better. Also, it doesn't seem to deteriorate. Best of all, it's very pretty, camouflaged in a distinctive way.

I cut these kindling pieces with the pruner. They are almost too gorgeous to burn. Last fall,  I wimped out and bought fire wood, on account of having that awful lingering cough. I was pretty much wiped out by it.

Now, I'm eager to start cutting wood. Because it's hard work, one load a day seems like plenty. One winter I kept a tally and cut 40 of these carts full.

I could buy wood again, but where's the fun in that?

A National Tragedy

To my readers around the world, I'd just like to apologize for the election outcome. How people could call themselves Conservative and yet vote for such a horrible creep is beyond me. Those of us who voted against Trump are huddled in shock, clinging to the hope that justice in his upcoming lawsuit will remove him from office. Having a loose cannon on deck does not make us feel secure.

Please don't think we are all idiots. He did not win the popular vote.

Tucked in for the Winter

That little bed has been planted. Several dozen daffodil bulbs are tucked in around the three transplanted daylilies and five butterfly weed bushes. To a non-gardener, this must look like some dirt and some plants sticking out of it. However,  I can see the daffodils in full bloom, nodding in the spring rain or even braving the last few snowflakes. It always snows on the daffodils. In my mind's eye, I can see the later flush of bloom from the daylilies and then the gorgeous butterfly weeds in yellow, orange and red, echoed by the marigolds that I'll plant along the edge.

My new auger made short work of planting the bulbs. Much better than the way I once did it. That required loosening the soil, running Tillie, scooping off the soil, placing the bulbs and then dumping the soil back on top. That was such fun that I only did it once, for a very limited amount of bulbs, like a dozen.

Had a little time out from gardening to have pneumonia. I blame the road dust for starting that.

Still awaiting more much-needed rain, but at least the cistern has rainwater and the pump delivers it.

Thinning the new spinach was lots of fun and I got plenty of thinnings to eat now. It's great to have anything growing in the garden after two light frosts. The El Dorado chard were eaten by bugs all summer, but have finally put on some growth. These darling volunteer lettuces may make it, and the garlic will overwinter for next year. The marigolds are still blooming, but another frost is forecast tonight. It's November, for Pete's sake, and they cannot go on forever.

Because the warm dry weather continued, I got a paint project going. Not perfect, but better. The old paint on the structure above the fruit cellar steps has been peeling for years. I decided I can't possibly look at it for another winter. It's the view from one of the windows. The paint was brown, one of my least favorite colors. I went with a pale green, the same color as my living room. The roof needs replacing, but this was what I could do. I scraped loose paint, nailed quantities of loose lap siding, added gobs of caulk, and ripped off the curling top boards.

The second coat was awaiting a bit of rain to dampen the horrific road dust, so I could breathe. I got a break when the wind shifted away from the road. Slapped on the second coat. It's as pretty as new paint.