I call them kamikaze flies, but they are really not on a suicide mission, so the name is a bit off.  Although, I must admit, if they spend too much time dive-bombing in our home, they really are on a suicide mission.

Kamikaze flies show up at night.  They are just like regular flies except they zoom through the air and never land.  They are so irritating if you are reading at night because they roar past and dip down to almost touch you then sceech away.  They are loud, they are frenetic, and they are irritating to the nth degree.

I don't like them.

The other night as I was trying to get my jangled nerves settled down, I was sitting up in bed working on a crossword puzzle to get sleepy.  I couldn't relax though because the most kamikaze of flies ever was driving me bananas.  He was moving so fast that I couldn't even see him.  I could hear him though, indeed, I could!  Then I had an absolutely brilliant idea.  I am sharing it with you in case you ever find need of figuring out a way to outsmart one of these little guys.

I turned on the light in the adjoining bathroom.  Then I turned off the light in the room I was in.  Then I walked into the bathroom, and, sure enough, Mr. Kami followed me in there.  Then I quickly sidled out of the door and slammed it.  He was caught.  I also stuck my hand back in really quick and turned off the light.  Kamis always settle down as soon as it is dark.

I share this with my adoring audience in the hopes of helping someone stay sane when faced with a similar situation.

This is not what our "herd" currently looks like.  First of all, all of our cows (that is both of them) are black baldies.  We did have three head of cattle.   One cow (I will tell you that story in a minute), one heifer calf, and one bigger heifer (I already told you that story here). 

A few weeks ago I was mowing the side yard when I looked over and saw our mama cow laying in the barnyard lot.  She was laying in a strange way, so I stopped the mower and walked over.  She was dead...she was unbelievably just dead.  It must have happened fairly recent to my finding her because her calf nursed off of her while I was watching and seemed to be getting some milk.  Kent had suspected that she was older than the farmer who sold her to us had told us she was.  But whatever was the issue, she is now gone.  Well, she is in the corner of the field (which is where we dragged her to), and sometimes, when the air is very still, there is an unpleasant odor.  We are down to two head of cattle.  That is one reason we are nowhere near the label of "Homesteader," but are just plain ole' "Mom and Pop" farmers.

I really began this post to relate two different stories that happened to us over the last two days, but thinking about one of those two stories reminded me of the recent dead mama cow.

We had an event last night to attend.  Kent also had a meeting to attend (by Zoom) part way through the first event (which was a concert that my nephew, D. Jay, was giving at the Lemonade House Grill in town).  Our idea was to leave home quite early so that Kent could order his food, eat, and then sneak out to join his Zoom meeting.  And we did just that.  We left about 30 minutes before we would have otherwise.  But, as providence would have it, after passing Uncle Ken and Kenny Joe's house, we saw an old tree had fallen right across the road, effectively blocking our only exit.  Kent got out to see if the two of us could move the tree.  Nothing doing.  So, we turned around and headed to Billy's house to see if he could bring the tractor.  It was a relief to see that he hadn't already left for the same event, and he brought the tractor and drove to the tree.  By the time we got back there were already two cars lined up on the other side.  They were as stuck as we were, except they were trying to get in, not out.

The tractor was a trooper and moved that heavy tree, and we were soon on our merry way.  However, instead of being early, we were just barely on time, and Kent didn't make his meeting because his food wasn't even ordered until the music was well underway.  By the time he ate, it was nearly finished.  The other committee members were quite understanding!

Then today the Harding and Martin families was going on a float trip on the Sparkling Jewel (Current River).  I was sliding through the morning trying to get several things done before we left.  In the midst of my sliding, I looked out the front computer room window and saw a large black thing.  The large black thing, on closer inspection, turned out to be Chocolate Milk (our calf).  This escape entailed quite a bit of work repairing the fence using old roofing tin and old fencing.  Thank God for baling wire!  It is almost as good as duct tape to fix things.

But, again, we came skidding in just in the nick of time to the float office and didn't miss a thing from the family float.  In fact we had a lovely time!

But, it just shows to go you.  I mean it just goes to show you, to be grateful even in the midst of difficulties.  I thanked God all last evening that that tree didn't hit a passing car when it fell.  It could have killed one of us.  I also thanked God today that the calf didn't get out while Kent was gone.  I would not have been able to fix the fence alone, or at least would have had a much harder time doing so. 

The best laid plans....

 

Turkey Stories

This morning Kent and I headed out to pick up our car that had been worked on yesterday.  As we were tooling down the road, just enjoying the fresh air blowing through the windows, we got behind a large tractor.  I think it was a tractor with a hayrake.  When we got to the stop sign at the junction, I gasped and said, "No one is driving that tractor!"  I could see the seat, but there wasn't any head sticking up out over it.  The only thing I could think of was that a VERY short person, like a 5 year old, was driving it.  

Kent looked at me in disbelief and replied, "Laurie, that tractor is on a trailer."  And, well it was!  It was on a trailer and being pulled by a black truck."  

So we giggled a bit.

Then, Kent looked at me again and said, "You know those plants in a little rectangular pot that are on Ashley's back porch?"  (Ashley owns Loma Linda, which is where Kent is a maintenance/grounds keeper).  "You mean those succulents?" I asked.  "Yep," he replied, "Ashley called me over to look at them yesterday." Then it hit me, Kent was probably watering them 3 to 4 times a week, and they only need it once a week at most.  I gasped again.

But, it gets worse....  "You have been watering them too much," I said.  "Yep, way too much.  They are artificial plants!"

Ashley was wondering why the pot was rusting out.  Now she knows.

Now we weren't giggling, we were roaring, and gasping again, but this time for air.

Kent and I clean two houses every other week.  I take my feather duster, because I love feather dusting things.  At Miss Joy's home, I climb on her big poofy sofa (after removing my shoes) and dust the window, curtains, and behind the couch.  Not long after we first started cleaning there, my feather duster lost a part of one of the feathers behind her couch.  The next time her great-grandkids were over they saw that feather and thought it was a snake.  She and I have giggled over that several times over the last couple of years.

(As an aside, and not really part of the story I am really telling, one day I left my feather duster outside her front door.  I put it there when I was finished with it so that I could grab it on my way out.  It was tucked in the corner between a potted plant and her outside wall.  I forgot to grab it, and she saw it the next day and thought a chicken had gotten stuck in there!  We really have giggled over that one.)

But today, I had an opposite experience from Joy's grandchildren.  I was vacuuming at Nikki's house, while she and her mother Kathy, and her son Brooks were sitting in the living room waiting for us to finish so they could pack up and leave for a barrell race down south somewhere.  As I was vacuuming in the corner by the door, I thought I saw an escaped feather.  It kept "blowing" and wouldn't be vacuumed up.  So I bent over to look at it, and said, "Oh, I think it's a worm."  Then Brooks ran over and looked.  He said, "It's a snake."  And, shore 'nuff, it was a little black snake.  Nikki and her mom didn't even get off the couch.  They were cool and clam as a lamb about it.  So, I grabbed a paper towel from the sink, wrapped it around the snake, kind of pinched it, and threw it away.  I hope it doesn't come out and crawl into one of their beds while they are out of town!  I wish I had just moved it outside into the yard, but I was a bit thrown off by the whole experience and didn't think of that until later.

 

A few nights ago several of our grandchildren were here long after dark.  It is just that time of year that the glow worms start to appear.  I love their magical, fairy-like, quick wisp of a glow that fades back into the deep dark of the night.  (For the uninitiated, glow worms are the common name of the larval stage of several beetles and even flies...in this case they are the larva of fireflys).  You only see them in September and October (or at least that is the only time I have ever seen them) after the weather begins to cool down a bit.  

So, the children were running around in the dark, some with flashlights and some without, when one of them noticed a glow worm.  Soon, they had brought me a plastic cup with a lid, and every few minutes, one would run up with another glow worm to add to those collected in the cup.  Now, if you look at the picture above, you will see what a glow worm looks like.  Really, they are a bit creepy, but that didn't phase the children.  Even the girls, Kathleen, Elsie, Opal, and Adeline were gleefully catching them and depositing them into the cup.  What a wonderful time they all had.

Later, as I was driving Joel's kids home, I told them about all the fun I had as a city kid visiting Fernnook and running around after dark with my cousins.  Kathleen said to me, "Grandma, do you ever wish you were still a kid?"

That was an easy one for me.  I loved my childhood, but I truly do believe that maturity is worth more than all that has gone before it.  I do miss people from earlier times.  I miss my mother.  I miss Grandma Opal.  How I wish I could play one more game of High Five with them and laugh until we were silly.  But, I don't want to go back to those good old days; rather, I want to somehow pull them into these new good days.

Well, I couldn't really explain all of that to Kathleen, so I just said, "No, honey, I wouldn't want to go back to being a kid.  If I did that, I wouldn't have you precious grandchildren that I love so much.  Honey, these are the good news days, and I love them!"

Our hummingbirds are humming along.  I have four feeders and a dozen or
so birds are busily zipping between them.  A few days ago, I spooked an
oriole on one of the feeders.  He quickly flew off and didn't return.  Then
today I received a text from Natalie saying that she had indigo buntings,
orioles, and cardinals on her feeders (some of the birds were on her
seed feeders, but the orioles were on the hummingbird feeders.)  It wasn't
but a couple of minutes and two orioles appeared on our living room feeder.
Their bright orange is astonishing to see up close.  We tried to not make any
sudden moves.  Tyler captured this picture, but the shadows make the stunning
color hard to see.

Adeline Shirley (and her parents) made her first visit to the Farmhouse at
Fernnook today.  We had a lovely time holding and loving on her.  Tyler
planted more of his garden (he has promised me lots of okra this year)
and Jennifer visited inside with us.

I was explaining to Kathleen yesterday that Tyler & Jenn are planning on
moving to behind the old barn someday, and that she could then walk
through two fields and over a (not-yet-built) stile and could then take the
lane back to their house and visit her cousins.

She answered me back, "Wait a minute!  You mean Tyler and Jennifer used
to live in the brown house, and now they live in another house, and then
they are going to move again?  WHY DO THEY KEEP MOVING?"

She just couldn't fathom that.  But I think I explained it adequately to her.

June bugs were hitting the windows tonight.  Whippoorwills are whippering.
The moon is shining brightly.  Lovely, lovely May.

Years ago we did a skit for the youth at church.  In it, a person crawled on their
belly slowly and painfully across a wide space.  They were supposedly stranded
in a desert and every so often would just whisper the word, "Water!"   Finally
they made it to the cup of water that was their goal.  When they got there, they
signed deeply and then reached into their pocked and pulled out a comb.  They
stuck the comb in the cup of water and began combing down their hair.  This
caused a gasp of surprise from the audience.

Water is so precious and so necessary to us, yet we take it for granted until it goes
missing.

Wednesday night our water went missing.  It was running at 3:30, then Kent, Tyler,
and I went out into the deer woods.  When we returned at 5:30 or so, there was not
water.  Then we went to eat at Joel and Natalie's home.  When we returned at 7:30,
the water was running again.  Yeah!

But, before we went to bed, it quit running again and it stayed that way this time.
It is never convenient when these hassles happen, but it was especially not convenient
at this time.  We were expecting company over the weekend, and I had to do tons of
cooking for the SGRC Thanksgiving Dinner.  Plus we have a bull that is limping and
we needed to tend to him....and a calf that needs a nose ring put in.  There really
wasn't time to go finding the missing water.

But, water is so necessary that we had to find it.  So, we called Papa and he came over
and we put our heads together and had a joint hope that it wasn't the pump.  I am
glad to say that it was not the pump, but instead was a small pipe leading to the
pressure switch that had gotten filled with gunk.  Papa and Beth went and picked
up the parts we needed from town, and Kent scrunched into the well house and fixed
it.  What joy, what felicity it was when the water again gushed from the faucets and
we could flush the toilets!

As for the bull, we gave him the shots he needs, but were unable to pull up the foot
to examine it.  The calf is still ringless. 

The next day Kent said, "I am sore from the bull."  I replied, "I think you are sore from
scrunching in the well house."  After a pause Kent said, "Scrunching is really hard for
me."

Oh, and no, we didn't bring home any deer from the deer woods.  But, the season still
has several more days before it ends, so there is yet hope....and there is water!

Today Kent and I toodled over to Mammoth Springs, Arkansas to
visit a friend from church and her husband.  Deryl and Sybil recently
moved to Mammoth from Mississippi, and they have just finished building
a beautiful home on the banks of the Spring River.

Sybil made the most delicious stew for our lunch and rounded it out perfectly
with bread and a salad.

I asked her for the recipe and she was happy to send me the web link for
it. Wow!  I don't think I have ever attempted to cook something as complicated
as this recipe looks.  I am very impressed.  I am also determined to wow my
family and friends with this recipe sometime...not sure when, but sometime.

In case you want to attempt it for yourself, the link to the stew, which is called
Daube Nicoise is here.

Later the gang came for dinner and Mike broke a tooth.  He didn't chomp
down on anything, it just happened.  Poor guy!  That'll mean a trip to our
favorite dentist.

We had such a dry end of summer and autumn that we haven't seen many
mushrooms.  Well, part of that is the fact that I haven't had a chance to
go hunting them.  But, mostly it is from the dry weather.  Yesterday though,
on a walk to our house, Kathleen, Colyn, and Peeta found some puffballs
and gave them to me as a surprise.  Tonight I sauteed them in olive oil and
butter.  Kathleen ate them and thought they tasted like mashed potatoes.
That's odd!  Colyn and Peeta wouldn't even take a bite, but the rest of us
enjoyed them.  Wild 'shrooms are so yummy.

Yesterday the spider lily was bravely facing the chill October nights.
Today it is jazzing up the living room.  One of the grandkids, one who
looked suspiciously like Peeta, couldn't resist picking it.  That kid!
Gotta love him!

And, in more grandkid news, Kathleen followed two days ago in the
footsteps of Elsie.  Several months ago Elsie was happily cutting paper
in her room when she decided to give herself a haircut...a very severe
haircut.  It was drastic and quite disturbing to her mom and dad (and a
shock to all that saw her.)  Welllll, Tuesday Kathleen cut her hair,
and Natalie said, "I feel like I have triplets now.  Kathleen, Colyn,
and Peeta look so much alike!"

Every autumn I am surprised when my spider lily pops up out of
nowhere.  I always seem to remember it coming up earlier, and when
September passes and it hasn't appeared, I figure it is gone forever.

Then one morning, when I walk outside, there it is.  It is gallantly facing
the cooler days and nights like a soldier standing staunchly on his post.
What a brave little flower.  And it is aptly named, don't you think?

Yesterday a yellow garden spider took up residence in my kitchen
window.  That was convenient since I like yellow garden spiders
muchly.  All I had to do to see him (her actually, the males are not
so spectacular and I know it is a female because this spider is truly
spectacular) was to glance out the window.

Of course, if I wanted to watch her do her imitation of a spider on a
trampoline, I had to go outside and gently touch or blow on her.  If
you have never watched a yellow garden spider do her bouncy thing,
you have missed one of the little joys of life.

This morning when I stepped out on the porch, I heard a whirring noise.
It sounded as though there was a large insect caught in Miss Yellow
Garden Spider's web.  Indeed, there was something large caught, but it
wasn't an insect.  It was one of my hummingbirds.  The bird was hanging
by one wing and could not flutter loose.  Miss Spider was scooted off to
the side, I think she recognized that this meal was too big for her to handle.

A quick swipe through the web freed the hummer, but I am afraid that I
frightened Miss Spider away.  Maybe she will come back if I place some
curds and whey on the railing for her.

Life is always busy, but Spring has got to be the busiest
of all. How can it help but be with all the life that is
bursting out around us.

True conversation (which has nothing at all to do with the
above sentences.)

Laurie: I am not stubborn.

Dad: Laurie, as Mom always said, "Arguing with you is like
arguing with a road sign."

Laurie: Do you mean Mom always said that about me, or G'ma Opal
always said that about me?

Dad: Neither. My Mom always said that about me. But, it applies
to you as well!

Laurie: Humpfh!!

And so, I offer another of G'ma Opal's witticisms. "Arguing with
you is like arguing with a road sign."

I love Psalm 19 with its emphasis on both general and
particular revelation.

Verses 1-6 have been on my mind lately, especially during
the night time hours. This is the time of year when it
is almost painful to go to bed.

The soft velvety air is pierced by the flashes from the
fireflies. The frogs (sorry Uncle Jim) are raucous. The
crickets keep time as best they can with the frogs. Our
whippoorwill wakes us up at all hours of the night and
early morning. The full moon, or the half-moon, or the
sliver of a moon lends its magic to the whole.

Truly:

"The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.
Day unto day utters speech,
And night unto night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech no language
Where their voice is not heard.
Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their words to the end of the world."

Yesterday was Pi Day. (3/14)

Billy requested, and I made Shepherd's Pie for dinner.
For Kent I made Spinach and Artichoke Pie.
For the rest of us I made Cherry Cobbler (with three
layers of pie (pi) crust). I had to make the cobbler,
because, you know, sometimes pi R rectangular.

On the finished pile...

"Pierced for our Transgressions: Rediscovering the
Glory of Penal Substitution" by Steve Jeffery, Mike
Ovey and Andrew Sach

Highly recommended.

For a full book review see Challies review on Discerning Reader

Today we saw geese headed south. Soon our hummingbirds
will leave us as well. Tyler has probably mixed up a
hundred gallons of sugar water for the little guys this
summer. They are an endless source of entertainment.

We will miss them.

And so, I relearned yesterday why I play golf so seldom.

I also realized that golf is a very spiritual game.

To some (read me) it is a LONG lesson in 'umility.

To some (read those with me) it is a LONG lesson in
patience.

Joel brought his week-old geese visiting Sunday morning
before church. They have been named Amelia and Abigail.
Of course it is Hattie and Tyler that have named them.
They don't really know that they are both female geese,
but I think the names will stick even if they aren't.

Joel said yesterday that he'd like to get a monkey and
name her Abigail. When I asked why, he said, "If it is an
orangutan it should just be named Abigail, because Abigail
is a name for a redhead."

I wasn't really asking why he would name her Abigail, I wanted
to know why he wanted a monkey. "For tax reasons," he said.
"I could claim it as a child on my taxes." Purely Joel reasoning.

Rain and headache. Headache and rain. Rain and headache.
Ad Nauseam.

But that was through the yesterdays. Then came a trip to the
doctor and a shot that broke the headache cycle.

The sun burst out gloriously yesterday. The fields are green,
green, green from all the rain.

This morning at 5:30 there was a newly risen golden sliver of
moon floating above the tree line to the East. This was followed
by a lovely gentle sunrise.

And to top it all off, the Proverbs are such fun to read.

Today as I was reading through the 15th chapter I circled every
verse that had to do with the words we speak. Ouch.

Here is just one:

vs. 4
A wholesome tongue is a tree of life,
But perverseness in it breaks the spirit.

I am a light sleeper. Last night, about an hour after I
went to bed I was awakened by a noise outside my window.
It took me a few seconds to wonder what was making the
noise before I lifted my head and looked out. Though
there was a cloudy sky, enough moonlight shone through
to show me a black plastic bag caught in the eddy that
the wind always makes between the back of the trailer,
the side of the new room, and the side of the furnace
room. The bag was swirling along the concrete pad and
making a raspy noise as it went.

I was hoping I could ignore it and fall asleep, but just
then there was a funny beeping from my dresser. I listened
to the beep two or three times and then went over to
investigate. The cordless phone hadn't been settled tight
in its cradle and the battery was getting low. I settled
it and it became quiet.

I went to bed, but the bag was swirling and rasping and I
knew I'd better just deal with it. So I went out the back
door, collected the bag, and brought it into the house out
of the wind.

Then I lay back down and began to listen to all the other
night noises. I was rather wide awake by this time.

There was the wind itself as it found its way about and around
all the corners and sides of the house. It always makes some
eerie howls in doing so. Then farther away was the whooshing
of the wind through the trees along the big pond at the edge
of the field.

There were the peepers, my little buddies, just peeping away
like mad because it was a warm night.

There was the sound of a vehicle going down the gravel. I tried
to figure out who it was and since it sounded like a motorcycle
being driven slowly I figured it was KM (Fernnookians will know
who I mean.)

There was distant thunder rolling about somewhere. I love distant
thunder. I love close up thunder, too. Both have their merits.

And finally, the sound that was keeping me awake most of all, there
was a gentle snore coming from beside me. Hmmm.

I got up, went into the kitchen and took a melatonin. I lay back
down, carefully poked Kent and asked him to roll over, which he
very obligingly did and then I drifted off to....dreamland.