Whew!

This past weekend I went up to MO to visit the folks, and to help care for a sick relative. And to experience electricity. I have to admit, part of my motivation was a break from the juice-less Homestead. A week and a half without modern conveniences will wear on anyone born in this most sissified time in world history.

As I got closer and closer to home, I instantly noticed yard lights on and bright windows spread out over the hills as if the stars themselves fell out of the sky. Seeing so many lights after so many days of darkness, it actually LOOKED like the population could be Nancy Pelosi's 500 million.

Could it BE? I got closer and closer to our house, and the neighbor's houses down our road were ALL lit. Should I dare hope? I sped down our road, hoping against hope, to be greeted by the BRIGHT SHINE of lights. I was not dissappointed. With a whoop loud enough to be heard in the next county, I happily unloaded the car under the bright shine of the yard light. I couldn't even muster any irritation at the fact that hubby must be trying to make up for the electric we didn't use the past 12 days by having nearly every light in the house on.

We are LIT.

A big fat THANK YOU to North Arkansas Electric for getting our power back on last night! I've never stared at a light bulb with such fascination before. It's wonderful to watch PBR bull riding with other lights on, and without the drone of the generator. I actually ran the coffee maker AND the microwave AT THE SAME TIME. I used the dryer and got fluffy warm towels in return. I fried eggs on the stove. I just *might* bake a pie in celebration.

This whole experience has really illustrated the fact that if at all possible, you really shouldn't put all your energy eggs in one basket. Dependence feels awful...sitting here waiting for the power to come on, and yet being able to do nothing to help ourselves. Nothing like a feeling of utter helplessness to prod a person into action. It's definately past time to look into a wood stove or fireplace, solar panels, generators, and other alternative ways to make life easier when the electric goes out. I plan to do some research and scour my old issues of Mother Earth News for ideas and options for stepping a little off the grid.

The smell and feel of spring is definately in the air, even though this is a "false" spring...it's bound to get cold again soon. I actually walked outside this morning to feed the chickens and other critters in a SHORT sleeved shirt! For my plant's sake, I do...*long sigh*...hope we go back to seasonal temperatures. Until then, I'm really going to enjoy it.

Icy Pics

Here are some pictures I took of the ice. Even in a bad situation, there's beauty. It's almost worth the power outage. Almost.

Though, if we don't get power soon, I AM going to lose it...

An Inconvenient Disaster

Yes, it's really me. No, we DON'T have power yet, but luckily for us good 'ol Dad rode in once again on his white horse (or chevy truck), this time bearing a generator. The following are exerpts from my Ice Storm Diary:

Monday, Day 1:
Hmm...doesn't LOOK like it's going to be the Mega Ice Storm Of The Century to me that they're having a cow about on TV. I think they're way off base on this one. My plans to go to fiddle lessons today were thwarted by Violet's daughter, who called to say she was spiriting her off to her wood-stove warmed house, safe from all things ice. Well, while I'm not scared of any ice by any means, I still went into town to get supplies and filled a few jugs of water for "just in case."

Later that night: Rain....rain that's not exactly freezing, but getting slushy. I think we're going to dodge a bullet...our power hasn't even so much as flickered. Even though, I can't sleep. I just know we're going to get lucky.

Tuesday, Day 2:
Well, now we have sleet. And freezing rain. I decided to blow up the air mattress and stack blankets by the front door for just in case...IF we lose power, our only heat will be the wood stove out in the barn/garage/shop,

10:00: DANG.

Tuesday Evening:
Here we are in the barn, chairs cozied up to the wood stove. The fire is snapping cheerily, and we have camp lanterns casting a pleasant glow throughout the room. Marden and I have just enjoyed a fun and competitive game of Scrabble, and now we're reading before we bed down on the nice comfy inflatable mattress while we listen to ice pelt the metal roof of the barn. We could stay here indefinately. This is fun! Like camping!

Wedensday, Day 3:
Woke up a little stiff and cold this morning...not to mention sleepy. At least the ice has stopped, for the most part. I had to get up every hour or so to feed wood into the stove, since it was a bit inhumane to expect hubby, still recovering from hernia surgery, to do it. Nighttime temps in the barn ranged widely between BLAZING SUN HOT and MINER'S BUTT COLD. Hubby is moaning about the uncomfortable night on the mattress. I'm still determined to be chipper, even though every time he moved on the mattress, I was yanked out of sleep and launched several inches into the air. Note to self: blow more air in mattress. I was also jerked awake numerous times in the night be the sounds of LARGE trees breaking under the weight of the ice. This isn't sounding good. I luckily had batteries for the radio so we could get some news, and I was instantly horrified at what I found. The ONLY radio station we could find was KTLO, otherwise known as the "old fogies station." We were just after news, but before any news we had to endure a good thirty minutes of Frank Sinatra, various big band tunes, and Celine Dion. *shudder* You'd think in a time of local crisis, maybe a constant news feed would be called for? Unless there are indeed those out there who really can't live without a daily dose of Lite Adult Favorites.

For personal hygene, wet wipes had to do the job. It's just too dang cold for anything more adventurous. They're saying it might be a few days without power for some people (surely not us). I had to carry jugs of water to the animals, including the chickens, since their heated waterer requires electricity. Dang it's cold. I've also been heating rocks on the wood stove for Orville (the snake), since his tank heater requires juice. I just know our ancestors are watching us, shaking their heads, and tsk tsk-ing at our dependence on gol-danged newfangled electricity. They're also probably wondering why I have a snake in a glass box.

I wonder if we'll get power and phones today?

Thursday, Day 4:
Ugh. My back and neck are screaming from that dang air mattress. I'm still sleepy, because of having to feed the fire. And because Marden snored. And flopped. And snored. Fixed veggie omlets for breakfast on the wood stove, because all of our food in the fridge is quickly going south. All to the tune of some annoying song..."There's got to be a morning aaaafterrrr" I want a shower. I DON'T want to play Scrabble anymore...I'm pretty sure Marden is cheating. This garage is a cave. I should be an albino soon.

At least it's sunny today. I made a foray out of the cave to survey the damage. One thing's for sure, it's not going to be hard to find firewood. Dang it's cold.

I wonder if we'll get power and phones today?

Friday, Day 5:
Another miserable night on the mattress. I hate that thing. The mattress, not Marden, though I'd be within my rights with all the flopping and snoring. Today I noticed that my hair has taken on the feel and texture of a wig made of pipe cleaners. I need a shower. I have that not so fresh feeling. Dad is coming today with a generator...I pray fervently that it's the miracle we so desperately need. Not a moment too soon, either. I just heard some song on KTLO..."I've got a brand new pair of roller skates..." Much more of that, and I'll seriously lose it. I already caught myself singing with "I am woman, hear me roar...in numbers too big too ignore..." What's WRONG with me???

By the way, Scrabble is a stupid game.

Friday evening:
I spent probably ten minutes turning the lights off and on. So amazing what a small miracle that little switch can produce. Still no official power, but the generator droning away right by the front door sings to me, "I BRING YOU WARMTH, WATER, FLUSHING TOILETS, AND EVEN TELEVISION!" While we can't run EVERYTHING on the generator, we're back to somewhat normal life.

I officially proclaim this day, January 30th, "GENERATOR DAY." All hail the generator.

And that pretty much brings us up to the present. It's now a week later, and still no power. Power poles are still snapped in half on our road, so it may be a while. To all of you out there feeling my pain - hang in there! Today on the way back from fiddle lessons (Violet has power now), I was flipping through radio channels and landed on KTLO. For old time's sake, I paused to sing along:

"I am STRONG.....I am INVINCIBLE....I am WOOOOMAAAAAANNNN.....!!!"

You go Helen Reddy.

(Stay tuned for icy pictures from the storm)

Hero Pilot

Is it a coincidence that the pilot of the U.S. Airways jet is nicknamed "Sully"?

I think not.

Winter Blues and Blahs

Alright, I admit, I have not made a good blogging start for 2009, but I'm full of excuses! For starters, it's January. Bleah. January is one of my least favorite months, at the risk of offending all the January-lovers out there. Here are some reasons I'm in a funk:

It's cold.

It's ugly brown, because this year we've had an upsetting lack of snow.

Hubby is recovering from hernia surgery, which only solidly confirms my belief that men cannot handle pain gracefully...and now he's getting a case of the grumps, which in turn causes me to aquire my own case of them. So, we grump together.

I'm still getting gardening catalogs, which makes the wait for spring even worse.

Did I say it was cold? That fact alone makes it hard to get out and do anything, even when I don't feel I can take the sight of the interior of the house anymore. What would I do out there, anyway?

I think at this point I'd even welcome a classroom full of beligerent 6th-graders, but alas, the school hasn't recently had a need for subs. I even called to make sure I was still on the list, and they assured me they'd be calling soon. *sigh* Oh well...I'm in this position every January, and I always survive. I guess I should just keep in mind that the joys of spring, and the long warm days are just around the corner. Before we know it, I'll be griping again that it's so hot.

Inauguration, or Coronation?

Seems to me, from the dab of news I've seen, it's more like the latter. I have to say, as I have in the past, that I'm VERY concerned at the Socialist-like direction our country is going. The Obama-mania that has gripped the country is scary, to say the least. Already, anyone who disagrees with Obama's very liberal policies are at risk of being branded as "racist", and the absolute and unquestioning adoration that has been heaped upon this man is frightening. Will he be as liberal with our Constitution as his previous records have shown? Will our rights be trampled on? Will he be held accountable?

Here's hoping (and praying) my fears are for nothing.

"Sure could use, a little good news...today"

(In the words of Anne Murray)

Well, as you can see, it's taking me a while to get back in the swing of regular blogging. I just haven't had any inspiration hit lately...January is always a pretty mundane month. The excitement of Christmas and New Years is over, and the closest holiday now is Easter - months away. I suppose there is Valentine's Day, but it doesn't exactly reach "Holiday" status. The Superbowl is coming up, but I can't seem to muster up much excitement over that, aside from being glad that the Giants lost a couple weeks ago.

However, this morning I got the blogging urge. Actually, I got downright irritated. As I turned on the TV for a little news, I was assaulted by a constant barrage of footage of the US Airways jet that crashed into the Hudson River. When I first saw the story yesterday (I happened to have the TV on, and they broke in with the story), it was interesting and a bit alarming, but not exactly what I'd call earth-shattering. Yes, it's bad that the jet crashed. But, nobody died, injuries were relatively minor, and the pilot is being hailed a hero for the placement of the plane lightly in the river instead of crashing it in a firey ball of carnage somewhere not quite so soft. A nice story, but does it REALLY warrant CONSTANT coverage from every angle possible? I figured this morning the excitement would be mostly over - good for a single story, then go on to what's happening in the rest of the world. Years of seeing our news degrade should have told me better. What I found instead - on EVERY channel from ABC to CNN to FOXNews to BBCA - was re-hash after re-hash after re-hash of the same dang story. Constant commentary, live footage, computer-generated crash re-creations, experts on airplanes, experts on birds, experts on birds-crashing-airplanes, expamples of plane engines being tested by being slammed with a "chicken cannon" (won't that have PETA up in arms), interviews with crash survivors, debates on "how this accident could have been prevented" and "will anyone sue?" And to top it all off and send the whole thing spinning into complete ridiculousness - ABC had a sad and soul-felt musical montage featuring photos from every angle of the crash site...followed by a story about the latest contestant to do something cute on Dancing with the Stars.

What the CRAP? I hate our news. I'm a very proud American, but we are not the center of the universe, and there are a myriad of issues and events going on not only here but around the world right now that will directly affect us. There are wars our soldiers are currently fighting, social unrest, starvation, dictators, and impending natural disasters (Yellowstone earthquakes, anyone?) - just for starters. We have citizens starting to ACTUALLY think that Socialism is a "not that bad of an idea", mostly because we are so out of touch with what is REALLY going on, no thanks to being spoon fed utter horse pucky by the media.

I ended up turning the channel over to the only decent television I could find - The Waltons.

*sigh*

Call back the search parties, I have returned. I apologize for my long absence, but Hubby and I officially went to Tarnation and back this Holiday season. As much as I LOVE them, this year I'm pretty relieved that the Holidays are now at our backsides.

I hope everyone had a nice Christmas and New Year's. Ours was awesome, as usual, and full of high adventure in our travels. We both made out like bandits in the gift department, getting much more than we deserved, even with our immaculate behavior over the past year. My sincerest thanks to everyone. I also learned quite a few things over the past few weeks:

First, you can drive a Pruis on a solid sheet of ice, as long as you get enough momentum to make it up hills. If proper momentum isn't reached, car will quickly meet ditch.

Second, no matter how invincible husbands may think they are, they can still give themselves hernias. Surgery is set for next week.

Third, the more times a person travels across Kansas, the wider Kansas becomes.

Fourth, in order to properly reside in Boulder, Colorado, one must drive a Subaru and also appear as though they are ready to embark on a mountain-climbing expedition at a moment's notice (the more Patagonia the better), even while shopping in a fancy downtown boutique. Bonus if you wear dredlocks and a "Barack My World" T-shirt.

Fifth, while many Christmas gifts may be thoughtful and expensive, nothing entertains quite like a book about farts. I believe "Farts, A Spotter's Guide" is destined to become my family's new Bible.

Happy 2009!

Fragile Flower

No, I'm definately not referring to myself. I've started taking morning walks lately...sometimes up the road, sometimes out in the pasture. During deer season when I was going out nearly every day, I rembered how much I enjoy nature...just enjoying the sights and sounds. Even though this isn't exactly the prettiest time of year to be out, there is still plenty to enjoy. For instance, I stumbled upon these the other day. Not exactly uncommon, but a sight few people stop to notice, these are "frost flowers" I found on the back side of our property in a little 'holler protected from the sun for just a tad longer than the rest of the area. They're formed in certain types of plants when the ground isn't yet frozen solid, but moisture in the stems freezes and is squeezed out. That's the un-scientific version.

Crap-Lists

I had an inquiry regarding the last post as to the rest of my Crap-list. I'm happy to oblige, but I have to say that the list is constant yet ever-changing, sometimes by the day, sometimes by the hour, sometimes by the minute. Let me give my simple definition for "Crap-list": A Crap-list is a running list of things that make me say or sometimes yell, "Crap!"

For example, the dismal season of the Chiefs illustrated by their pathetic last-minute loss on Sunday has already been surpassed by several other things. Early this morning, Sally barfed. I said, "Crap!"...therefore, Dog Puke went to the top of my list, but was then surpassed by Fitted Sheets. Is there a class on how to fold fitted sheets? And to those who can successfully fold a fitted sheet - are you born with that knowledge? Is there an underground network of professional fitted sheet folders? Please, will someone help me out here?

The fitted sheet folding (or should I say, wadding and stuffing into the general sheet-storing area) was then surpassed by Chickens Who Lay Their Eggs In The Middle Of The Coop. There are EIGHT nice comfy nest boxes right at the access door, but now twice this week one hen has seen fit to lay her egg in the middle of the floor, just out of my reach, so I have to get a garden hoe from the garage and roll it to me. It's that or else risk mashing my face into chicken poo while I reach for it.

But then, Chickens Who Lay Their Eggs In The Middle Of The Coop was replaced by Christmas Stress, which has been making it's rounds on the Crap-list. I have a feeling this may stay at or near the top for a while, and yet every year it seems unavoidable that I must experience this phenomenon for a good week before Christmas. "Do I have enough gifts? Wow we're spending too much money...how are we going to get everywhere we need to be?" And more of that mental voice constantly beating at the inside of my skull. So, to keep that Christmas Stress at bay, here's a classic Christmas song to remind us all of one of the important things Christmas is about - family! :)

SIGH....

And #1 on my Crap-list right now...

You guys STINK.

Christmas Quiz

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Depends on how much time I have, and the degree of difficulty in wrapping the present.

2. Real tree or Artificial?
Artificial…less mess, less trouble, less fire hazard.

3. When do you put up the tree?
Well into December...mine just went up. None of this before Thanksgiving nonsense at The Homestead.

4. When do you take the tree down?
ASAP...a pet peeve of mine is seeing trees up in people's houses in February.

5. Do you like eggnog?
Yep, in small dabs. I really like eggnog shakes from Sonic.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?
I'm not sure...but I remember getting LOTS of awesome gifts. Bike, fishing poles, stuffed animals, games...we had (and still have) great Christmases.

7. Hardest person to buy for?
Mom and Dad.

8. Easiest person to buy for?
Hubby.

9. Do you have a nativity scene?
Maybe if I had a place to put it, and if I found the right one. Like the one Mom has where all the participants are bears.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
Mail.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
Probably the infamous slip I recieved when I was little, which I didn't pay any attention to because there were toys to play with. My apparent lack of appreciation caused the givers to switch to just giving me money from then on.

12. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
Throughout the year, if I find an item that screams someone's name. If not, after Thanskgiving.

13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
Pretty sure not...if it doesn't work for me, I try to exchange it.

14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Pumpkin pie and Mom's peanut clusters.

15. Lights on the tree?
YES, lots of colored lights. White lights may be "elegant", but so very boring.

16. Favorite Christmas song?
"O Holy Night", and "Merry Christmas From the Family" by Montgomery Gentry. It's a classic.

17. Go out for Christmas or stay at home?
Depends greatly on family activites and who can be where at what time. It used to be a lot simplier.

18. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's?
Only if I sing the song.

19. Angel on the tree top or a star?
Angel. We have quite a tradition in my parent's house that goes back years - the siblings fighting about who got to put the angel on the tree, followed by days of one of us always dragging a stool to the tree, and taking the angel off and putting it back on just to lay claim on putting the angel on the tree last. Mom finally fixed the issue by writing the name of the sibling who's turn it was to put the angel with the year inside the angel. This made any further taking off and replacing of the angel moot after the original placing, because it was in writing.

I hope if I ever become a mother, I have half as much genius.

20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
Christmas morning! What's up with the Eve thing? That's when Santa comes.

21. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
Commercialism that sucks the spirit out of Christmas.

22. Favorite ornament theme or color?
Fishing, of course - our tree is covered with bobbers, old lures, flies, and fishing-related ornaments.

23. Favorite for Christmas dinner?
Skip the other stuff and just go for the pie.

24 What do you want for Christmas this year?
What I REALLY want is to just to be successful in choosing gifts for everyone on my list, and that everyone enjoys them.

Crikey!

Once again it's time for my totally unqualified and random movie review. This past Monday I went out of town with a friend who had to attend a conference. While said friend was actually attending the conference, I was left with most of the day to waste. I did the only reasonable thing to do - I went shopping. However, shopping is only fun if you have copious amounts of money to spend and/or a certain shopping mission to accomplish. I'm not much of a random shopper, especially if I don't have much in the way of extra coin. The Christmas Crunch is on, which doesn't leave many dollars for selfish items. After a two-hour foray in one of my favorite stores, Sportsman's Warehouse - which I've only seen in Colorado and had NO idea they were taking root in Arkansas - I found myself needing something else to do. I felt I was making the staff nervous. Then I found a bookstore - another wonderful place to waste time. But, I kept finding books I wanted to buy. After it became apparent that it was dangerous to my wallet to stay, I hastily beat a retreat back to the car. Luckily for my purse, there was a movie theater in the mall complex, and what better way to kill time than watching a movie? I was really looking for "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas", but alas, it was not playing in this particular theater. However, another movie I was very interested in, "Australia" was playing. I figured if the movie was HALF as good as the actual Australia, I was in for a treat. I purchased my ticket and a soda and settled in.

And a good thing for that soda. I surely would have suffered severe dehydration had I sat through the WHOLE movie without refreshment. What I thought looked like a nice little movie was actually a THREE HOUR sprawling epic. I should have paid more attention to the title...the movie lasted longer than it would take to jog the whole country of Australia itself. Or so it seemed. I'm not really sure what the movie was trying to accomplish - Action adventure? Comedy? Drama? Love story? Commentator on Australian race relations? It seemed to try to cram all this in, amid breathtaking scenery paired with my nemesis - computer animation. In any case, you'd be hard pressed to find another movie that crams in extreme cattle droving, WWII attacks, True Love, Aboriginal/White Australian angst, and Boy Coming of Age.

I left the theater thinking, "What was that? Was that a good movie? Was it terrible? Who am I?" Usually you know whether you liked a movie or not upon exiting the theater, if not before. I still don't know. I didn't hate it, but yet I do know that I don't really have a burning desire to see the movie again, even though I'll probably watch it if it eventually comes on TV. Luckily, it didn't dampen my passion for someday visiting the real Australia again someday. No confusion there!

In any case, you might enjoy the movie. Or you might not. Or you might. Who knows. Let me know.

Christmas Here We Come

If you're anything like me, you're sitting there wondering how in the WORLD it got to be December already? This year has flown by like a duck with his tailfeathers on fire, leaving me coughing in the smoke and wondering where my time has gone, and why haven't I gotten all these planned projects even started? Ah well, such is life I suppose. Like it or not, while it seems like last week I was canning beans, in a few short weeks it will be Christmas. I've been trying to get myself in the mood. On the way home from Thanksgiving in Missouri to Thanksgiving in Arkansas, I dusted off and popped in my trusty John Denver/Muppet Christmas CD (causing a rather large eye-roll from hubby). Usually that's all it takes to get me in the spirit, but alas, this time it just didn't feel right. Perhaps we will get our tree up in the next few days, and that'll do the trick. Some snow wouldn't hurt, but that's probably asking for too much.

We had very nice Thanksgivings in all our family locations, and I hope everyone else did too. It was pretty awesome to get to see so much family all in one place. It was also pretty awesome to eat so much pie. I hope my butt doesn't revolt and expand to new widths.

And, with the close of the Thanksgiving holidays also came the close of another holiday, modern gun deer season. Hubby and I tried our luck once more before the season closed, but with no results to show. While sitting on a stump, however, I was rewarded with a run-by by two does and a nice pretty buck, but I just watched them pass. Perhaps we will meet again next season, but in the meantime the scene gave me a good idea for a painting.

I aplogize for this boring post...it's been a pretty relatively mundane but relaxing few days. I don't even have any pics to post from Fiddle Day - I am STILL hacking away at the hard-as-a-rock cherry wood I'm using for the back of my fiddle. Once I get the back carved, I have a feeling the sassafras front will be like carving warm butter, assuming my knife survives that long. As far as fiddle playing, I've completed "Down Yonder" and have moved on to the tune of "Red Wing", which is relatively easy to play but very catchy.

I'm still not ready to post a video, though.

Happy Thanksgiving

There are many, many things to be Thankful for this Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for so many things that it's impossible to list them, but I'll try to list a few: God, hubby, family (both my born-with and married-into ones), home, pets, living in a free country (at least for the moment), and just being blessed with what we need. In a time where it seems everyone is grumbling about the economy, it's a good time to remember that things aren't THAT bad. We can still buy food and clothing. I see people every day still buying luxury items. Jobs are still being advertised in the paper. While the news media is doing it's best to look at the negatives and make us believe that we're really suffering, this is an excellent time to reflect on how lucky we really are, and to think about times in our country's past when things really WERE that bad. There may be rougher times to come, but for now I still go into Walmart and see shopping carts full of Hot Pockets, steaks, frozen pizzas, pastries, specialty coffees, and ice cream. I see the clothing stores full of shoppers still buying expensive clothes and shoes. People are still cramming into movie theaters and buying large cokes and mega popcorns. But like any time in any economy, now is a good time to think of others who maybe ARE in dire straits and need a helping hand - these are not the people buying Pop Tarts and Fruit Roll-Ups and yet still grumbling about how "bad things are", but those who may have lost a job and could really use a donation to the local food pantry. Just a few extra items could really help a family genuinely in need.

I am also very thankful for folks who have a sense of humor, and who post pointless videos like this for us all to enjoy. Smile, and have a HAPPY THANKSGIVING.

Skill or Luck? I Say Both.

My buck is now at the processor, and hubby has been proud as punch, showing off the pictures to envious co-workers non-stop. I'm starting to feel a little guilty that so many people have commented on their admiration of my "skill." I know the truth - it was nothing more than a case of knowing where the deer *might* be, stumbling blindly into that area, and getting very very very lucky. I assume hunting is like fishing - it took me quite a few years to feel I had a good handle on skill, and wasn't just catching only the idiot fish by sheer luck.

Still, it's been a big boost to my confidence. I've been hunting a few more times since Sunday, but with no results. I've seen deer every time I've been out, but now I don't feel quite so desperate to get meat in the freezer and am a little more patient. Still, we'd like to get at least one more to have a good meat supply.

Aside from harvesting big deer (and substitute teaching, which after this week has me wondering if I REALLY want kids), I've been working on my fiddle. I had a GREAT fiddle-day this week, making lots of progress and having loads of fun in the process.

Last week I cut and glued in the double lines, and left them clamped. This week, the glue is dry, and looks amazingly like all came out exactly right. Here is my fiddle so far, with a Violet stuck in the middle.

Next, I had to whittle down the double lines, leaving the outside edges to give me something to glue the front and back on, when the time eventually comes. But, I have to MAKE the front and back first, starting with the back.

I used the band saw to cut out my cherry wood back, and here it is. Now, all I have to do is to whittle it to look like a fiddle back...a task much harder than it sounds, I found out. The front and back both start out as a 3/4" slab, eventually whittled down to a uniformly curved 1/4". This is ESPECIALLY difficult when you've chosen the hardest cherry wood in the state to make it from. After watching me chip away at it like trying to carve concrete, Violet suggested her tried-and-true solution for dealing with hard wood. At first I thought she was joking.

She wasn't, and I reluctantly handed over my carefully sawed-out fiddle back. After a few expert whacks with the EXTREMELY sharp hatchet, she had significantly whittled down the back curves of the fiddle. Then she handed it over to me and instructed me to start whacking. After a few non-expert whacks from me, I was soon working on glueing and clamping a big chunk back onto the fiddle back. *SIGH* I got a bit overzealous with my whacking, and the wood is pretty brittle. I was assured that it was no biggie...seems you can make all kinds of little mistakes that are fixable. And I seem to be determined to make them ALL. I am, however, learning a lot from these mistakes.

As Violet says, "as long as you're learnin', that's all that matters. You're going to be a dandy fiddlin' fiddle-maker yet."

Maybe - like deer hunting - with a little skill, and a whole lotta luck.

Ten Points of Happiness

***WARNING***

If you're in any way offended by a deceased deer (no matter how impressive), you might want to skip this post.

As most of you probably know, modern gun season in Arkansas opened a couple weeks ago. To bring any newer readers up to speed, I'm still a pretty new deer hunter. I introduced hubby to fly fishing (and created a monster), and he in turn introduced me to hunting (in the process creating his own monster). I've never really had a problem with hunting, but just never participated. While always a lover of the outdoors, I always considered fishing the more "sophisticated" sport, using highly honed skill and the powers of keen observation to entice a wily and obviously intelligent fish into biting an artifical bait, while I admittedly saw hunting as something necessary for conservation, but an activity any old schmuck could do (mostly big guys with bigger egos and even bigger trucks) by donning camo, grabbing a gun, and sitting in a tree waiting for some poor critter to happen by. I ardently believed in hunter's rights, but didn't have much respect for the sport.

My opinons have drastically changed. Not only was I a hypocrite for my views on hunting while being an egotistical fisherman, but I had it all wrong. After trying hunting for myself, I found that hunting can be HARD. It does take a large amount of skill, know-how, and a huge dose of patience. But once you have tasted success, it leaves you feeling incredibly self-sufficient and confident, with a healthier respect and intense love for nature (which many self-proclaimed hard-core environmentalists will never have or understand). Not to mention the DELICIOUS results. Putting my own food on the table gives me a feeling of confidence that's hard to describe...like I can accomplish anything, and I can survive anything.

Well, despite the fact that I had beginner's luck on my first day of my first deer season with the 8-point buck two years ago, it's been rough going since. I was totally skunked last year, and this year things were looking to go the same direction. I had started to get concerned, since we've been out of deer meat for weeks, and frankly - I'm getting a little tired of pork. It seemed the harder I hunted, with or without hubby, the worse my luck was getting.

Until early Sunday morning...



Yes, that is one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, TEN points on that 'thar buck. Hubby stayed in bed for a much-needed rest, so I went out to the farthest tree stand from the house. One of my first solo trips out hunting on my own. I was actually looking to fill my doe tag, but after spending two solid hours with the only results being a very entertaining titmouse that was determined he wanted to perch on my stand (but he did not want me there), I gave up and climbed down. I decided to walk the perimeter of our property on the way back to the house, when I encountered this bruiser. In my short career as a deer hunter, this is the biggest buck I've seen, and when I was all of a sudden face-to-face with this guy I nearly had a coronary. I was informed that what I experienced was indeed a case of intense "Buck Fever." Long story short, I was luckily able to pull my wits together enough to focus on the task. Looking through heavy brush I had to take a neck shot, and the buck dropped instantly like a sack of bricks.

While deer hunting for me will still be much more about getting meat in the freezer than getting a trophy, it does feel pretty awesome to have an actual Big Buck under my belt. Even though my buck wasn't a "Buckzilla", it's big enough that I can now swagger around with the biggest ego-toting-big-truck-driving rednecks in the area. Yay me!

Lately I've been substitute teaching at a nearby school for some extra Christmas dough, and to get off The Homestead for a bit. So far I've found the experience challenging yet kind of fun, and also a bit surreal. Yesterday I was walking back to class after lunch, and the bell rang - my first reaction was "Oh crap! I'm tardy!" Funny how even after fifteen years, a sound can cut through common sense and reason and evoke such a strong, yet irrational, reaction.

I did quickly remember that I am in my 30's and was in no danger of tardiness.

In an abrupt change of subject, has anyone else found themselves barraged by Christmas music way before they're ready? I was in Goody's the other day browsing through pants, and I was highly distracted from my task by loud strains of "Have A Holly Jolly Christmas." I swear, every year it's worse. Come on, people...at LEAST wait until after Thanksgiving!

Busy Weekend

I apologize for my lack of blogs lately, but things have been pretty busy around the Homestead. I know, that's my excuse every time, but it's the truth! The final rounds of the PBR finals AND the opening of modern gun deer season coincided on the same weekend. We also decided to spend the weekend at hubby's folk's, since they have a lot more land and a bigger deer population. In between hunting, visiting, and watching PBR...it was a whirlwind weekend.

Results of the weekend - one bagged doe to fill one of our doe tags, and Brazilian rider Guilhermie Marchi is the 2008 PBR Champ.

Then, as soon as we got back, it was Fiddle Day! I finally feel I'm making good progress on my fiddle. I now have the sides glued together, and my last task was to add the "double lines", which add not only more support, but add more surface area for glueing on the front and back. On my next Fiddle Day I'll be cutting out the front and back and starting to whittle them to shape. The pic is from the first stages of my fiddle. I started with the side strips - three different length strips for each side, all sanded down to the same thickness and width, then soaked in hot water to make them pliable. (The water is cloudy because of all the red color that seeped out of the cherry wood strips). Once the strips were bendy enough, and the irons hot, the irons (using numerous potholders) are clamped into a vise, and each strip bent on the appropriate hot iron and clamped into a wooden fiddle-shaped pattern.


I feel very confident I'm not only going to finish this fiddle, but finish it in good time. In talking to Violet, I've found out there are a lot more of her fiddle-making students who have given up halfway through than have actually finished making a fiddle, for reasons such as lack of time, lack of interest, or lack of skill. I'm determined to make the time, I know I have the interest, and as far as skill - I'm just being extremely careful, and trying to not get in a hurry. On top of that, I'm pretty confident around a saw and a carving knife. So, my hopes are high, and so are Violet's. She's already given me wood to make a second fiddle with, and best of all, my OWN set of side-bending irons made by a blacksmith at Silver Dollar City. They were actually made for a woman in California who had high aspirations to make a fiddle, but gave up before she started and sent them back to Violet.

As far as fiddle playing, I'm progressing there, too, though not quite as fast. Of course the harder the songs get, the longer it takes to learn them.

I've now added:

Lost Indian

Arkansas Traveler (needs more practice)

Black-eyed Susie

Rose Nell

Down Yonder (in progress)


If I get confident enough, I *might* post a video. But don't hold your breath.

That's No Bull

It's been a few days now since the election, and I've been ignoring politics altogether. I don't even want to see the news, and I'm not even sure it has anything to do with the outcome. I'm sick of politics. I'm sick of politicians. I'm sick of ads. I'm sick of the news. And what's the best antidote for politics? I say - professional bull riding. Nothing will make you forget the pompous posturing of politicians like a cowboy getting slung forty feet by an angry bull. Or better yet, staying latched on. It's cut and dry - either you stay on or you don't.

The PBR finals could not have come at a better time. I've been a fan forever, but this is the first year I've ever been able to regularly watch events and the PBR finals. Ask the hubby - I've been glued to every second that's been televised, and last night was the best night yet. Watch this ride by J.B. Mauney - holy moly...does he have velcro on his britches, or what? I guess I'll have to start rooting for him, even if he does wear a helmet.

We Did It.

We have now elected a president with no experience, who spent more on a campaign than any other president with untracable funds, with radical friends, endorsed by enemies of the U.S., and who has questionable ethics on top of Marxist views. Becuase this is still a free country, I can express these views. But for how long?

To keep our freedom, we have to fight. Loss of personal freedoms can sneak up nearly un-noticed, all in the name of "our best interests." I, for one, do not need a Nanny State to take care of me. Our country was founded on the principles of self-reliance, personal freedom, and making our own choices. I'm afraid we have traded these in for a Nanny. I greet this day with much worry and a heavy heart.

Parenting

This looks like a good idea to me...probably good that I'm not a parent.

Booking It, Part II

On Stephanie's blog, Pointed Meanderings, she posted a questionairre about books. Since I love books, though I just realized I rarely talk about them on my blog, which I should probably remedy, I wanted to get in on the action.

What was the last book you bought? Brsinger, by Christopher Paolini

Name a book you have read MORE than once.
Oh my...I have several. Watership Down by Richard Adams, The Stand by Stephen King.

Has a book ever fundamentally changed the way you see life?
If yes, what was it? Yes, The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards, and most of Barbara Kingsolver's books.

How do you choose a book? eg. by cover design and summary, recommendations or reviews. Mostly personal recommendations, though every once in a while a review will catch my eye. And I'm also a sucker for a good cover, though I try not to let that sway me.

Do you prefer Fiction or Non-Fiction?
Definately fiction...it's my escape from real life for a while, though I did recently enjoy reading Last Child in the Woods; Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv and Doc Susie; The Tue Story of a Country Physician in the Colorado Rockies by Virginia Cornell.

What’s more important in a novel - beautiful writing or a gripping plot?
Both are important...cruddy writing can ruin the best plot, and beautiful writing can't make up for a cruddy plot. But, I'd rather have mediocre writing with a good plot than nothing.

Most loved/memorable character (character/book):
Hazel in Watership Down, Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Harry Potter series, Stu Redman in The Stand, Rosie the elephant in Water for Elephants.

Which book or books can be found on your nightstand at the moment?
Child 44 by Tom Rob Smith

What was the last book you’ve read, and when was it?
Just finished Brsinger, by Christopher Paolini...third in a series which I mistakenly THOUGHT was wrapping up with this book...*sigh*...and Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns, which ALSO has a sequel.

Have you ever given up on a book half way in?
I'm ashamed to say I have a couple of times...a book has to be REALLY bad for me to quit, but it still kills me. I've read a few that were as tedious as trying to swim through mud.

Here is a video of a B-52 flyover over Arlington National Cemetery. It was in honor of my brother Tye's good friend Major Chris "Fireball" Cooper who was killed in a B-52 crash off the coast of Guam earlier this year. You might not have heard about because our illustrious news practically ignored the incident. Tye is on the crew of this B-52 as it flies over in memorial.

Never Ignore Intuition

We've all heard it - that little voice in our heads that guides us through some of life's quandaries, often pushing us sometimes inexplicably one direction or the other. It's the gut instinct that rarely steers us wrong, IF we listen.

Very recently, I did not listen when I should have. I was walking through the yard toward the barn to get more feed sacks to put walnuts in. I passed one of the redbud trees I'd planted, and as I glanced at it, I noticed it was missing quite a few leaves, and what few it had left looked pretty sickly. Upon further inspection, I discovered a dozen neat-looking caterpillars happily munching away on my redbud.

Now, I'm pretty partial to caterpillars, but I am also partial to my carefully planted trees in our practically tree-less yard. I rashly decided to ignore the knowledge that usually nature knows best, and take it upon myself to transplant the caterpillars and disperse them between bigger, more leafy redbud trees, where they could munch away on leaves and not decimate their current tree. Kind of an "everybody wins" situation. My strategy was simple. As I'm not squeamish when it comes to bugs and worms, I would simply pick off the caterpillars and carry them to the bigger tree.

Here's where intuition made it's first little voice known. As I grabbed the first caterpillar, I wondered whether the things sticking off of it that looked like little sprigs of broccoli were a defense mechanism, but I shrugged it off. It was just a caterpillar. As I transported one caterpillar in each hand gently with my fingertips, I noticed a little tingly itchy sensation in my fingers, and again that voice in my head said, "hey...aren't there some caterpillars that sting?" I of course ignored that voice, and grabbed two more caterpillars. After all, they were just caterpillars, and how bad can a caterpillar sting? Likely the tingly sensation was as bad as it would get, but by the second bunch of caterpillars, I decided the tingly sensation was a bit uncomfortable, so instead of quitting this madness, or getting gloves, or anything smart - I carried the next bunch in my palms...which also started to tingle.

While transporting the third batch, the slight "tingly sensation" on my fingers and palms quickly escalated into a "stinging sensation", which became an intense "burning sensation" in just a few seconds, and I immediately abandoned the moving of the caterpillars (dropping them in mid-transport) for a running to the house (accompanied by a little girlish yelp) to immerse my now red and slightly swollen hands as quickly as possible under the faucet of cold water. Within a few minutes, especially after applying turpentine (takes the sting out of bees stings) and washing with soap, the burning subsided. A half hour later, all signs of distress were completely gone.

I then did some internet research, which I should have STARTED with, on stinging caterpillars, and quickly identified my culprits. The larvae of the very pretty Io moth. Here's what the book said:

"Caution should be observed concerning the larvae of the Io moth. The poisonous hairs or spines are hollow and connected to underlying poison glands. Contact with them causes a burning sensation and inflammation that can be as painful as a bee sting. The irritation can last for a day or two and may be accompanied by nausea during the first few hours. Usually the site of contact reddens and swells much like a bee sting. A person "stung" by a poisonous caterpillar should immediately wash the affected area to remove any insect hairs and poison that remain. An ice pack will help reduce swelling, and creams and lotions containing steroids will lessen the discomfort and promote healing. Persons known to be sensitive to insect stings should consult a physician. Stinging caterpillars rarely occur in sufficient numbers to be considered plant pests, but people who work with ornamental plants should learn to recognize them and avoid touching them."

You'd think a former park ranger would know better...and it seems I was very lucky...my reaction seemed to be very minor, especially considering the number of caterpillers I'd been stung by.

Now I not only felt like an idiot, I felt really bad...on my flight to the house, I'd dropped a handful of caterpillars in between trees, and through no fault of their own they were now out in the yard, away from their food, and vulnerable to birds (though woe to that bird), when they should have been in a tree.

I decided since I'd messed things up, it was my responsibility to get the caterpillars back on a tree. I moved the rest one by one, very carefully using twigs and grass as if I were handling nitroglycerin...made all the more difficult with Lucy alternately giving me licks and evidently trying to shove her frisbee up my left nostril.

It then occurred to me while I was squatting down trying to manuver a caterpillar onto a stick with a blade of grass - perhaps this is why I don't get as much done as I want? Wasting an hour carrying caterpillars from one tree to another...

Despite my care, during the move of one caterpillar (with Lucy's help), I bumped my elbow with my knee, causing the now balled-up 'pillar to vault into the air , performing a perfect triple back flip with a half twist, and land, where else, but onto the back of my hand causing an instant intense stabbing burning. This of course caused me to once again squeal like a little girl and drop the operation and sprint into the house for another scrubbing, further delaying the whole procedure.

I finally did get all the caterpillars dispersed onto different redbud trees, hopefully providing them with enough to eat so they can turn to moths, while minimizing the damage to the trees. I sure hope so, because I went to check the caterpillars the next day, and they were all gone. How's that for gratitude?

The moral of the story - sometimes it's best to just let nature be. And if you're going to handle caterpillars, wear gloves.

Crafty

I took a break from The Homestead for a few days to spend some time with the folks, and to attend the craft fairs in Northwest Arkansas with Mom and a crafty friend of hers. These craft fairs, or as the brothers not-so-fondly call them "the crap fairs", used to be a yearly tradition for me. My first memories of the craft fairs sometimes included snow and sleet, and little red boots to slosh through the mud with while our parents gazed at crafts. This tradition continued through until my adult years. That is, until I started working for state parks. Turns out, October is THE month that everyone and their dog goes to a state park...and how can you blame them in this weather? But being a park employee made it hard for me to enjoy fall. By late in the year, I found myself with very low tolerance after a full season of park visitors, plus I didn't have time to enjoy the lovely weather for myself. Any free time was spent getting as far away from a park environment and tourists as possible.

But, since I am now footloose and fancy-free, I was able to immerse myself in arts and crafts on a grand scale for the first time in a full six years. Unfortunately, this wasn't a banner year for arts and crafts. I only made a couple of purchases, which I can't talk about because the recepients of those items may be reading this blog. Despite the fact that it wasn't our usual huge haul of stuff, it was a very beautiful day, and well worth the trip.

And now I'm back at The Homestead, after a gorgeous day for the drive back. During the drive, I did see a scene worth commenting on, and I really wished I'd had my camera. I was significantly east of Springfield when I could no longer ignore "nature's call", so I pulled into a McDonald's. At this particular McDonald's, something kind of looked out of whack. Again, I wish I had a picture, because there in between a car and an SUV was a horse-pulled Amish wagon, complete with an Amish woman holding what I can only assume was an Amish baby. I went inside, and sure enough, there was the Amish man in his full Amish get-up placing his order. As I came out of the bathroom he was still waiting, so I went to the car. He came out pretty close behind me, and I watched him carry his bag of food to the wagon and hand it to the woman as he went to untie the horses from the hitching post.

And that's when it dawned on me - that it was the only McDonald's I've ever noticed with a hitching post. The spectacle was a bit surreal, even though I do know that people of the Amish faith actually accept more aspects of modern life than many of us "English" realize. However, it was still a bit like watching Pa Ingalls using a chainsaw. Or Grandpa Walton checking his email. Or Jeremiah Johnson carrying the "baar" he just killed with a four-wheeler.

I suppose like all of us, even the Amish get a hankerin' for some good greasy fast food, and they sure can't be blamed for that. And with a baby, maybe after a day of being out and about the woman just didn't feel like going home and taking the time to literally fire up the stove. I do wonder what he ordered. He looked like a Big Mac kind of guy...or possibly the Big 'N Tasty. If they were the least bit like me, neither one of them would touch Chicken McNuggets with a ten foot pole tipped with a dead skunk.

Lardin' and Nuttin'

How's that for a title? Lately, that's about what my life has consisted of - nuts and lard. Walnuts and pig fat, to be exact. Interesting times at the Hooter Ranch.

As many of you have probably noticed, this is the time of year for big fat walnuts to litter the ground, and this is a boomer of a year! Not only are the trees really producing, but the nut company is paying very well for black walnuts at hulling stations. After my first load - $92+ dollars worth, every time I see walnuts on the ground I now see little dollars. Unfortunately, I can't get every nut, but I'm sure going to try. Between our place and the neighbor's, I have plenty to keep me busy. I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I'm as nuts as the ones I pick up.

In between picking up nuts, I've been making lard. Yes, making lard. Whitey and Petunia, after a happy life lazing in the shade and mud, not getting injected with antibiotics and who knows what else, getting to eat yummy corn and table scraps (unlike factory pigs, I might add), made their journey to the processor, and we picked up the meat last week. You can sure fit a surprising amount of pork in a Toyota Prius.

I had been drilling every old person I could think of on the topic of rendering lard, as well as doing a fair amount of consulting the internet, and after deciding that it maybe wouldn't be too hard, I requested the butcher save me the fat. He was more than happy, and even ground it up for me. A question I've been asked by numerous friends has been "WHY would you WANT lard?" Well, aside from a wide consensus that it makes the absolute best pie crust, from reading about lard it seems that it's one of those foods that has been demonized, but now research shows it's actually not that bad. Matter of fact, it seems it's better than most fats, containing essential "stuff" a person needs, but without the trans-fat and no preservatives. Not that a person should just sit and eat a bucket of lard, but compared to the Crisco you get in a tub, it's downright healthy. And you do have to wonder about a product so full of preservatives you can leave it on the shelf nearly indefinately.

Not to mention that lard-making is getting to be one of those lost skills, and a the knowledge is just good to have.

On what I dubbed "lard day", I stood staring at three large frozen-turkey sized lumps of ground fat wrapped in plastic, wondering if I should proceed, or just feed it to the dogs. I decided to be adventurous and at least give it a try. I dug out my biggest dutch oven, put it on the grill over hot coals, added a bit of water and a big lump of fat, and waited. And waited. Stirred a bit. Waited. I quickly came to the conclusion that this project was going to cost a fortune in charcoal, plus the wind was blowing stuff into the pot, and I was incessently pestered by over-interested dogs and cats. So, against my better judgement, I moved the whole operation indoors to the stove. Eventually the fat melted and started to cook down, and after a few hours I started to see brown "cracklins" and the liquid turned clear, so according to all my information, it was done cooking. I felt like Ma Ingalls straining out the cracklings, but I'm pretty sure she did not strain her lard into GladWare. After a few hours of cooling in the fridge, I had honest-to-goodness lard!

Part of me is still surprised it even worked - talk about a feeling of accomplishment! And doesn't this pic speak for itself???

I Think...Therefore, I Blog

Well, I see I rankled some fur by my posting of the Farrikhan video. I'm not going to waste a lot of time on this, because I don't want to risk changing the tone of my blog, but let me clarify why I keep this blog. I keep this blog in order for my family and friends to keep up with happenings at the Hooter Homestead, thoughts that end up making a soup ranging from the main ingredients of everyday silliness and amusing observations, a mullet hunt for good measure, with a little peppering of a few more serious issues. I simply blog, and with the current political winds blowing strong as they are, it's inevitable that some of my own opinion on that front makes it in. I'm no high-powered political analyist...I'm that everyday "Joe Sixpack" that Sarah Palin has been brutalized by the liberal press for being. And whenever I run across a tidbit I think people might find interesting, I blog it.

But, contrarary to "Anonymous", as they so corageously identified themselves so I can't address them by name, I do think before I blog. And let me respond. The video is scary not because Louis Farrikhan endorses Obama - that's a given. Never did I imply that Obama is responsible for who endorses him - that's not the scary part. The scary part to me is what is said...that Obama is referred to as "The Messiah", and basically that he's going to be bringing about the kind of change that a radical Islamist can get behind. THAT is scary. Period.

That being said, I happen to think our choices for president this term are both a couple of boobs. The choice to me is who will bring the least amount of government boobery and jackassery to the country, who can keep us as a country safe, who is best for our troops (and I have several vested personal interests in this issue), and who tromps the least on our personal liberties. I do not want to one day find ourselves prancing around wearing berets and calling ourselves Socialist New France, or worse. There is LOT more I am tempted to say, but I will refrain.

If you anyone is offended by my blog, then don't read it. It's that simple. For everyone else, I look forward to very soon getting back on the track of blogging about fiddle playing and making, pets, husbands, hobbies, and just general amusing life observations.

Be Afraid...

This is a video everyone should watch before voting. It is Louis Farrikhan endorsing Barack Obama:

http://www.worldnetdaily.com/?pageId=77539

I'm very scared for our country lately. America is at a crossroads - we can either submit to governmental control over every part of our lives and become a socialist state, or we can remember the great country our ancestors fought for, and take our country back. Throw off the apathy, and let freedom ring.

Ozark Sasquatch?

Today while perusing the local classifiedes, I came upon this ad in the "Help Wanted" section, under "Notices"...I had to read it several times. It said (and this is copied word for word, with the actual phone number omitted):

Blue Man: If you have had a sighting of an unusual large animal walking on two legs, you are not by yourself, over 70 sightings reported in Missouri. If you contact us, your identification can be kept confidential. Any age of story accepted. 417-***-**** .

Hey, if he can cut the coyote population back down to a semi-resonable level, he's welcome in my back yard.

Aaaand...I'm back. Again.

I apologize for my blogging absence as of late. Things have been busy around the Homestead, and the weather has been so glorious that it's hard to sit down and blog, and I'm hitting it so hard during the day that when evening rolls around, I'm pooped.

First, I'd like to thank everyone for your thoughts and sympathy and cards concerning Sam. I really appreciate it, even though some made me get teary. The sympathy card from the vet's office made me bawl...it had that story "Rainbow Bridge" printed on the front. Ugh. It's been a weird nearly two weeks without the old guy around the house...almost startling not to see him on his usual perches. I even find myself automatically going to clean hair off the furniture or floor, but there's no hair...which kind of saddened me at first, but I have to admit, it's nice to be able to sit down in dark pants. And a bright spot, I walk into the laundry room and automatically screw up my face in anticipation of fragrance eau de litterbox, and instead I just smell dryer sheet. That's actually pretty pleasant. If there's one thing Sam could do, it's leave a stinky litterbox - and his favorite thing to do was to wait until it was freshly cleaned with new litter. Once about eight years ago, I was sound asleep one night and awoke to the most AWFUL stench, and when I got up to investigate I found a nice fresh "bomb" in the clean litterbox. That cat had crapped and woken me up from ACROSS the house. As I was very grumpily scooping out the box at 2:00 a.m., Sam watched with what I swear was a proudly bemused expression. "Heh...yep, I pooped." All in all, the hair and poop were worth the companionship, and I do miss him.

Fall has definately started to fall down around our ears...it's downright chilly at night, and while the days are still pretty warm, the sunlight has changed to it's fall sharpness and the leaves are thinning and starting to turn. And yesterday on my way to town, instead of admiring the scenery, I was absorbed in the annual autumn tradition of dodging tarantulas crossing the road in search of a mate. (Why did the tarantula cross the road? To get some booty!) I don't know why I bother trying to avoid them, as other drivers seem to swerve out of their way to smash the poor things. People. Maybe a few I've spared have actually made it safely across.

Over the last week and a half, I've been engaged in several projects. Work on my fiddle continues, but very slowly. I will be VERY surprised if I have the fiddle made in the next year, but maybe things will go faster than I think. It's very tedious work, made even more tedious by the fact that my teacher is legally blind, and on top of that hardship one of the other students is a very know-it-all yankee who seems unable to shut his mouth. I figure this first one will be rough to get through, and IF I successfully make this one and decide to make another, the process will get easier.

This is my fiddle front. Violet was saving this beautiful piece of sassafras for her use, but insisted I take it instead. The only drawback is that it's obviously not wide enough for a fiddle front, so I had to saw it in half and glue it together. Fortunately, the wood is so nice that once the board was sanded, I couldn't even tell where the glued joint was. So, envision if you will, a fiddle with this sassafras front, cherry sides, and a cherry back. And I already decided on black walnut fingerboard and tailpiece, but those will likely be long in the future.


Gotta go for now...stay tuned! I promise to get back on the blogging track, and I have more pics to add!