And, here I was believing (wishing, dreaming, hoping, praying!) that
skunks hibernated all winter.  Well, they don't.

It continues.

Last week, Kent and I were returning home from pickleball and just as we
topped the small hill on the gravel that headed toward our mailbox, we saw
two teenager skunks.  They were traipsing ahead of us down the middle
of the road.  Their tails were high and fluffy and in their delicate little steps
they reminded me of two women with parasols mincing down the road to
get the attention of the male sex.

They are quite fetching really.  Too bad they are such a nuisance!

They sort of wandered from side to side and then took a sharp left into our yard.
When we got to the top of the driveway they were headed toward our shed.

I wonder...how many baby skunks an be born to one mama every year?

Season Mash Up

A few weeks ago Andrew was at Children's Hospital and the other
kids stayed with us.  The morning were a leeetle bit cool, not much,
but enough for the kids to rummage through my coat closet for scarves,
gloves, and hats.  But, underneath all of those cold weather paraphernalia,
they had on shorts and short sleeve shirts.  It got me to thinking about
seasonal mashups.

Of course, when the cold air moves in to where it is warm, or, when warm
air moves into where it is cold, it creates unsettledness in the atmosphere,
and storms and wild weather can be the result of the warm/cool mashup.

But there are plenty of other mashups as well.  For instance, baseball and
football.  Sometimes my poor dad and uncle are all nervousy just thinking
about which they should watch this time of year...football or baseball.  That
is especially true if the baseball Cardinals are in the playoffs as they are
this year.

But nature has its own mashups.  On the same day in early fall I can see
a late summer hummingbird at my feeder and an autumn glow-worm.  The last
hummer I saw this year was October 6th and just about that same time my
spider lilies popped up.  The lilies are a sure sign that it is autumn.  They are
like fall surprise lilies, because they do not even show their stems until
October and then they just shoot up, almost overnight and quickly blossom.

I love that summer has a toe hold yet and brings warm afternoons to top
off a chilly morning.  This is a mashup that could last for weeks, and I
would not complain.

One more post about skunks.  I am not promising that this will be the last...
just that it is one more for now.

The other day Bill told the sequel to the big skunk that Uncle Jim got and
Pa hauled off.  Apparently Pa put the skunk on top of his tractor and drove
down the road and then turned down the lane to go to Mike's house.  I
s'pose he meant to chuck the skunk in the woods somewhere along the way
where it would not be an offense to anyone.

However, it fell off, right on the lane behind Bill and Stacey's home.  All
week, when the wind blew right, they kept smelling that skunk, but had
no idea where it was or why it was where it was.  Pa sure didn't tell them!
When Bill dropped in at Jim's one night, though, to watch a Cardinal game,
Jim gave him the lowdown on the smell, so now Pa is in deep doo-doo.

Meanwhile, we still have a small guy/gal visiting us nightly on our porch,
and I just kick myself when I forget and leave the cat's food out after dark.

Surely skunks hibernate and we will at least have a seasonal break from them.

Skunk Saga part 5

The following tidbits from recent emails will give you a picture of what
is continuing on a daily basis here.

Sept. 24, from Uncle Jim to me:

Ah, the big boy made a return last night. He hung around long enough for me to slip a pellet into the gun and ease the door open. Then realizing that I had a bead on him he made a high dive for the darkness but for an unknown reason he stopped and stated drinking from the Kitties water bowl. Which afforded me the perfect opportunity to blast him in the head, BUT alas I missed the head and hit the water bowl and he was gone until the next meeting.

Skunk 1 Me 0

Sept. 24, later in the day, from me to Uncle Jim:

Kent missed one last night too!  He was wandering around the carport but Kent was holding both a flashlight and the gun.  Missed completely!  The saga never ends.  I will have to update the Skunk Summer Wedding when I get a chance.  But we did get one the other day that was living under the playhouse.  I poked him with a long stick and Kent was waiting on the other side.

Oct. 2, from me to Uncle Jim:

Hey, Uncliest Jimbo,

I heard you got the big guy.  Joel got a momma and two tweeners last weekend.  We

saw another of the tweeners the other night, but he was gone before Kent could

grab the gun.

The contest continues.  

Oct. 2, later in the day, from Uncle Jim to me:

Mr. Skunk met his end when he turned his back and started to get under my car so 

that's where I shot him in the rear end. I didn't know that he died till your Pa saw him 

under the car. Surely we must be making a dent in the skunk population but then if they breed 

like cats they may get the upper hand. Maybe they will hibernate when the cool air comes in

tomorrow night. We can hope.

Your Uncliest Jimmy

From me to the blog audience:

I will keep you posted.

Skunk Summer Wedding Part 4

Unbelievable!  (First a suggestion...you really should read the previous
three posts before tackling this one.)

...but really, it is unbelievable!

Tonight, Aunt Jenny popped over to peruse the Mayberry Times Newpaper
to see who had been arrested and for what reason.  We chatted a bit, and
when she was ready to leave, I grabbed a flashlight to help her down the
steps.  Our outside light never works, so we have given up on trying to
make it do so.

We stepped out to the porch, and dog-gone it, I could tell that SOMETHING
had been on the porch because Debut's water dish had been sloshed and the
food dish was empty.  I forgot AGAIN to bring it in before dark.

Then when we got to the edge of the porch, we could see who the culprit was.
Just as I suspected, it was a skunk.  But not just one.  It was a whole writhing
mass of skunks.  Maybe 68 or 69.  It looked like that many, but was probably
6 or 7 in reality.  There was one big one and scads of little ones all moving
around.  I could not believe it.  I JUST COULD NOT.

We have been invaded.  Absolutely invaded.  Now what are we going to do?
In Baby Blues (the comic strip) the mom called a realtor and listed her house
because there was a snake in the garage.

I am contemplating a move to Canada or Thailand or somewhere...anywhere...
that skunks do not live.

Skunk Summer Wedding Part 3

Last night I dreamed a skunk was crossing the gravel road right in front
of Joel, Natalie, Kids, Kent and me.  I looked at Joel and said, "Obviously
you didn't get our skunk...that was your own."

But, maybe he did get it.  Tonight as Kent and I left for town, there was a
skunk right by the kids playhouse, but it was not the one we have seen here
all summer.  This one had much more white on it.

Oh, and Kent and Adeline saw one by Papa's sawmill as they walked home
from his house this morning.

The saga continues.  Sigh.

Skunk Summer Wedding Part 2

As our Fernnook community skunks made more and more appearances,
I began to hear a number of skunk stories from other folks.

Cousin Sandy came to visit one Sunday afternoon at Papa's house.  As
we sat chatting on the deck, she heard about our new residents and she
told us about a time that she and Grandma Opal were driving home from
town.  A skunk was in the road and Sandy hit him straight on.  Grandma
said, "Why'd you do that, Sandy?  Poor skunk, why did you aim right
at him?"  Sandy said, "It was either that or hit the car coming the other
way."  Sandy said that from that day on, Grandma talked about that skunk
that Sandy so mercilessly hit head on.  And every time she did, Sandy would
say, "What did you want me to do?  Hit the car?"

Brother Mike remembers a time when he was a cowpoke in Colorado on a
big cattle ranch.  He was just a highschooler or young college student at
the time.  There were two bunk houses and since Mike and the other young
guys got there first, they chose the better of the two houses and moved in.
When the older cowhands arrived, they kicked the young bucks out and
made them move to the older and less nice bunkhouse.

The first week went by and everyone got paid.  On Saturday, the older guys
all took their earnings and went to have a high time in town.  The young fellas
were stuck on the ranch.  Sometime during that day or early evening, a skunk
appeared and wandered under the nice bunk house.  The young men were
quick to take advantage of the situation and they shot that skunk and killed
it.  It began to stink like crazy in the nice new bunkhouse.  When the cowboys
returned from town they were pretty soused and went to bed and didn't
realize until morning that there was a terrible stench under them.  But, when
they sobered up the next day, they marched over to the old bunkhouse and tried
to make the young cowhands move again.  This time though, the ranch head
put his foot down and said, "No, you chose that bunkhouse...you stay in it."
Those cowboys never did find out how that skunk died under that bunkhouse.

Uncle Jim told me about a time he was sitting outside with Grandma when a
skunk put in its appearance near her garden.  Jim decided to get rid of it, but
when he shot it, it headed straight under Grandma's house.  It was not a nice
place to be for quite sometime after that.

A few nights ago, my skunk showed up on the front porch again.  Then after
awhile, I heard a noise on the back patio.  He/she was playing with two
whiffle ball bats that the kids left out.  The skunk would bat them around, then
chase them, leap on them, and chew their ends.  All the while, our own mighty
hunter, Debut the Cat, just sat and watched.  She has been carelessly watching
this skunk all summer now.  A day or so later, Kathleen and Colyn saw the skunk
cross the road in front of them as they biked down the gravel road to my house
for dinner.

I even dreamed about the skunk a night or so ago.  And then yesterday, Natalie
said, with that amused voice that she has so often, "I think your skunk has
moved down here."  I am rather of the idea that our skunks are very prolific
parents and they are multiplying by the gaboozle and this is their very own
personal skunk, not mine.  I guess I will see soon though, because Joel took
care of their skunk.  However, it ran from the field into the yard, and left a
streaming aroma as it did so.  She said, the yard smells awful and it is seeping
into the house.

So, the skunks have defined our summer.  Hattie's wedding has also defined our
summer.  The whole focus of our time and energy went towards planning,
thinking, talking, and working through wedding plans.  Well, that and the family
reunion that surrounded the wedding.

Hattie and Ethan made a lovely couple on their special day.  The wedding itself
was delightful.  They are adjusting happily to married life.  The family reunion
was chock full of food, fun, play, water, and silliness.  It was a fantastic
Skunk Summer Wedding.

Skunk Summer Wedding Part 1

It all began at Uncle Jim's house.  One night, sometime in late spring or
early summer, Kent and I were visiting with Uncle Jim.  He was prattling
on about this and that and then told us that he had been having a new visitor
to his porch recently.

He still had his normal round of visiting possums and coons, but this gal
was a little different.  She was black and white and could raise quite a stink
should she be so inclined.  He told us that she was a bold little thing and
that he could rattle the door and she would not even lift her delicate little
head, but would just keep munching until all the cat food was gone.

After a bit, we stood up to go, and when we got to the door, there she was,
bold as brass, eating away.  Sure enough, Uncle Jim banged and clanged
the door, but she didn't even look up.

Shortly after that, Bill and Stacey caught a picture of a skunk wandering
around outside their door after dark.  Now, Uncle Jim swears that it was
at Bill's property (then owned by someone else) where the neighborhood
skunks originated.  He says it happened a few years back. He says he
noticed a skunky smell there in years gone by.   I don't know, but that's
what he says.

Then, dad called me one morning, and, in a voice that just shimmered with
laughter said, "Laurie, I caught a skunk last night in my coon trap, and I
don't know what to do with it."  We both had some silly ideas like to try
to hook the cage with a cast of a fishing pole and pull it way down in the
woods with the Mule...but really, we were stymied.  Dad called Conservation
Agent Grandson, but couldn't get in touch with him, so we were in a bit of a
stinking mess.

So, we did what any rugged homesteader would do, we each looked on the
internet and we both found the same solution.  And, amazingly it worked.
Just picture, if you can, Papa slowly approaching the cage with a blanket held
up blocking the skunk's view of him.  Oh, and just hear him singing a little
song.  Because that is what he did.  Because that is what the internet said to
do.  Later, I asked him, "What song did you sing?"  "Oh," he replied, "I just
made up a nice little song about the skunk and me."  He must have liked it,
because dad was able to walk up to him and throw the blanket over the cage.

Then he sneakily opened the door of the cage, but the skunk just stayed in it, so
dad was still in a bit of a quandary.  After mulling things over a bit, he figured the
skunk must be thirsty, so he sprayed some water in front of the cage and, shore
'nuff, out came the skunk and waddled away.

But not too far away, as further events will show.

Meanwhile at my own little farmhouse at Fernnook Farm, our very own skunk
made an appearance.  I would come up to the front porch at night, and there
he would be, chowing down on cat food.  Said cat food disappeared from the
front porch after that.  Then we would get a glimpse of him in the evening in
the tall grass at the end of the yard, and we would see him foraging in the grass
right in front of our deck of a morning...I got some pictures of him there, but
they are not good, which is why I borrowed the picture from MDC at the top
of this post.

One night, I was feeling all at odds with myself and life and I went to sit
outside in one of the lawn chairs that are lined up at the edge of our carport.  It
was near the Fourth of July because I could hear the city shooting off their
fireworks.  Who should appear on my little strip of concrete patio but my
own local skunk.  He ambled toward me, I put my feet up in my chair, and
he went under my chair.  Then he stood on his hind legs and put his front
paws on the chair that was just next to me and sniffed around it.  Then he
finally ambled off and I hightailed it to the porch.

Another night, I ran into my little black and white buddy by the back door,
so I scrambled back to the front and up on the porch, only to find the door
locked.  I banged pretty long and hard before Kent came to let me in.

I am not the only one with close encounters of the night-skunk kind.  Anne
(my Montana niece) was sitting on Papa's porch during our family reunion
when she received an unwelcome and surprise visit from his skunk.  I told
you it hadn't wandered too far away.  She jumped up and ran to the front door,
it was locked.  Then she ran to the big garage door.  It was closed and she didn't
know the code.  Then she ran to the side garage door, and it too was locked.
And everywhere she ran, sensor lights kept turning on, so she was crying and
panicking, and she just knew she would get sprayed,...but she didn't.

Jim did get a spray around his house though.  And, he had baby skunks that
were born and being bred right under his shed which is right by his house.

That is not the end of the Skunk Summer Wedding, but this post is long enough.
The rest will have to follow in due course

True Confession:  I love mushrooming, but in all the years I have done
so, I have never, until today, found a morel.

Thank you to Tyler for organizing a morel hunting trip in his morel sweet
spot!  The kids loved it too, but I must admit, I think they loved playing
in the nearby creek even more.

Here is Peter with two of the delicious morsels.

And, here is Adeline with the catch of the day.  Now to clean and cook
them.

It reminds me of a story G'ma Opal once told me.  She had gone down
Over the Hill to the creek to fish.  While she was climbing back up the
hill with her stringer of fish, she tripped and fell flat on the ground.  As
she lay there for a second, she glanced in front of her and she had
landed right by a group of morels.  She was thrilled!  She collected those
babies and took them home to eat with her fish.

Today was a delicious, warm, windy, sunshiny, woodsy, morely day!

This is one of my favorite pictures of some of my favorite people.
We all have one thing in common...we are short.  It isn't so obvious
here because we are all short and so there is no one tall to compare
us with.  Well, Tandy, is close to medium, but not quite there.

Something funny happened to me today as I was in and out of
stores and other places in Poplar Bluff.  Actually, two funny things
happened and it just so happened that they happened on the same
day.  And that is what makes it so funny...in an odd sort of way.

First, I was in line at Burger King.  In front of me, and ordering, was
a lady with a young boy.  He looked to be an older four or a younger
five year old.  They were dining in and so they were given a number
to put on their table.  The little boy was holding it, and he asked if
it was a big number (it happened to be 12).  Never shy of speaking up,
I said, "It's a pretty big number."  And, I smiled at him.  A minute or
so later, he looked at me again and said, "Are you a grown-up or a
kid?"  I had to laugh!  "I am a grown-up, but I am a very short grown-up!"

Not long after that, I was walking into the entrance at Wal-Mart.  A young
man was walking in and had a loud rap song playing on his phone.  He
stopped and motioned me to go in before him, and I smiled at him.  As
we got into the store, he said to me, "How old are you?  You are so short!"
I told him that I was knocking on 60, and he said, "No way!"

Maybe I am shrinking.  I always said that someday I would be just an oil
spot on the floor...like the grandpa in The Old Crippled Goose story that
dad tells.

The other day we were trying to remember an old riddle that
G'ma Opal used to tell.  I never could remember how it went,
so I googled it.

I think G'ma changed the name from Twitchett to something else...
but I can't remember what it was.

So,...here's the riddle.  Guess it, if you can.

Old mother Twitchett has but one eye,
And a long tail which she can let fly,
And every time she goes over a gap,
She leaves a bit of her tail in a trap.

Life became more complicated this year in a good way.  Adding three
new babies to the mix has kept us all hopping, especially since the
youngest of the three has CF and has had to be hospitalized several
times.

It has been hard to pay enough attention to the details to find things
to write about.  But, the fog is beginning to thin a bit for me, and there
are sparkles of sunshine popping through again.  If that doesn't make
sense to you, not to worry.  I just said it because I like the way it
sounds.

A week or so ago, Bill and family were here working on their new
place and the grandies were all running in and out (despite the cold and
wet weather).  I had a plate on the counter that had biscuits leftover from
breakfast and a piece of bacon or two.  Every few seconds, one of the
grandies would say, "Granma, can I have a biscuit?"  Then they would
grab one and run out.  I was reminded of the days when my own boys
would go down to G'ma Opal's, walk in the front door, say hi to G'ma,
go into the kitchen, open the microwave, and take out a biscuit or two
and a piece of bacon or hog jowl.  Then as they munched on that, they
would go out the back door and take off to do whatever was in their
devious little mind at the time.

It has been a stormy and balmy February day today.  This evening was
drippy and foggy.  Kathleen, Colyn, Peeta, and Judah spent the afternoon
with me, and I took them home after dinner.  When Kathleen stepped out
of the car, she paused to listen, and then said, "Granma, you know what is
my favorite night-time sound?  It is the frogs."

The peepers were going at it hammer and tong.  Lovely, lovely, February
when the peepers are peeping.  A nice promise of springtime to come.

And, that wasn't the only sign today of the coming of spring.  I heard and then
saw a flock of geese heading north.  Oh yes, geese, go to those frozen spots
in Canada and remind them that Spring is on its way.