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 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

I haven't seen any hummingbirds for a few days now.  I am not going to take down
the feeders for a week or so...but I think we are at the end of this season.  I will miss
my friends, but I look forward to moving the wind chimes back to their place of
prominence on the porch.  I love to listen to them in the fall and winter just as much
as I love to watch the hummingbirds at the feeders in the spring and summer.

In my spare time, those few seconds that I can snatch out of my very full day,
I have been working with my plants.  I started several basil plants, and I am trying
to root several of each of the scented geraniums that I have.  Scented geraniums
are my newest fetish.  Really it is an old fetish that is being rehashed.  We grew
scented geraniums in the greenhouse that I worked in while I was at Mizzou.  I
loved them then, but I forgot about them until last summer when we were at the
Ozark Folk Center with Opa and Oma in Mountain View Arkansas.  That is a
place worth visiting.  And on top of the wonderful people, the fun music, and the
old ways that they are preserving, they had scented geraniums.  So this summer, I
just had to get me some.  They have been a thing of joy for me, and I want to try
to keep some for next year.  I am hoping to add more scents to my collection
next summer.  Now I have Lime Scented, Nutmeg Scented (which I think smells
like sage), and Orange Scented (which is my favorite of the three.)

One of the treasures I found at the garage sales Stacey, Natalie and I went to
was a crock pot.  I already have three crock pots, and I use them all very
regularly, but I wanted one to make soap in.  I have the lard; I have the
lye; I have dried lavender, but I had no extra crock pot to make the soap in,
so when I saw one for two dollars, I snatched it up.  Now we can see how long
it takes me to actually make the soap...or if I ever do make it.

I have also been collecting seeds from my cypress vines just in case they don't
reseed on their own next year.  Today I took a needle and thread and hung
sever cayenne peppers up to dry.  I want to collect their seed also.  After
running my fingers down to tie a knot in the thread and licking my finger to
help tie the knot, I had a burst of heat in my mouth.  It caught me off guard!
I will remember that the next time I am stringing up cayenne pepper.

I've not yet continued my series on homesteading
modern style, but I thought I'd go ahead and post
this little bit of information on what it is like
to heat with a wood furnace.

Of course, I grew up visiting my grandparents and
great-grandparents and they heated with wood
stoves. My grandparents had one in their living
room, and my great-grandparents had two stoves. One
was in their living room and one was in the kitchen. As
I grew older my great-grandma would move her bed into
the kitchen in the wintertime so she could stay
warm. It was a good thing she did. One year her
house was hit by a tornado and the only room left
standing was the kitchen, and, even it had one wall
torn out, so the roof fell in that corner, but she
was protected by the other walls from the ceiling
landing on her as she slept. But, I wander, that is
a story for another post.

When we first began this adventure we purchased a wood
stove at an auction. It did a good job of heating our
home. We also had gas as a backup heat source. We loved
our stove; we loved cuddling up to it on frosty mornings
to dress and we loved to snuggle by it to read. However,
we didn't like the amount of soot that had to be washed
off the walls come springtime. Plus, our house and
clothes always had a slight smoky smell, and it took up
a lot of indoor space in our little home. So we decided
to put in a wood furnace outside. Ours is in a little
shed that is attached to the side of our home. To get
to it you have to go out the back door and walk a few feet
to the door of the furnace shed.

So, now our house is warm (unless the electric is out,
then we can't light a fire without ruining certain parts,
believe me, I speak from experience...I didn't KNOW it
would ruin certain important parts to light a fire when
the electric was out!) But, our house is warm, it is
soot and smoke free, and the mess of dragging wood into
the house is eliminated, however there IS one drawback.
Since you can only get to it from the outside, someone
has to go outside during the night to reload the furnace.
That someone is me.

You may be thinking, "Well that's not fair. Here she has
all these big men around, why does little Laurie have to
load the furnace at night.?" Really, that is quite a good
question. The answer is just as good. We divide the
workload. The guys gather the wood in the summer. They
keep the wood box filled; they empty the ashes; they usually
are the fire starters; and they help keep it loaded in the
daytime. It is not their fault that they don't have the
nose thermometer I have been blessed with. When my nose
gets cold, I wake up. It seems rather silly to me to then
punch Kent and wake him also. So I slide out of my warm
bed, shuffle to the back door, slip on my slip on shoes,
pull on my work gloves, pick up the flashlight that is
there, and sidle out to the furnace room. I open the
door, throw in wood, come into the house, put gloves,
slip ons and flashlight back in their spot, shuffle back
to bed, crawl in and immediately fall asleep again. It
takes maybe four minutes tops. That is not a bad price
to pay for a warm house. And it get the satisfaction of
knowing my family is warm and cozy because of my little
part.

A Tale of a Modern Day Homesteader

(I started to title this News From the Homestead,
and I was going to write about our special Christmas
Tree this year, but then I thought some people
might be interested in the small tale of
some modern day homesteaders, and I got distracted
from my original intent. Perhaps I'll continue
this tale of a Modern Day Homesteader in install-
ments and post on a different post about our
Special Christmas Tree. Yes, indeedy, I think that
is what I'll do.)

Really there is some truth to the word "homestead" for
our famiy. When we first came to Mayberry we lived
with my dear folks for about 8 months. We are a loud
family and drove them bananas, but they handled it with
love and grace.

We had some property down the gravel from my folks; it
was a lovely spot, but had nothing on it except about 20
acres of overgrown field and 20 acres of woods. Oh, and
of course, the two ponds, one good-size at the joining
of the field and the woods and one little one up-close
to the road.

I lie, there was an old house, an old barn and two or
three old sheds, but nothing suitable for us to use as a
dwelling. After looking at all the options we decided
to buy a re-built mobile home and pull it onto the property.

It is so easy to talk of these things and so difficult to
accomplish them. There was no driveway, no water, no
electricity, no septic, ARGH! I often wished, in those
days, that we could have bought the place after it had
been lived on for 10 years, but then we wouldn't have
been able to afford it.

I have some pictures to post from those early days, but my
computery son is in the Big City gaining much university
knowledge and I am tussleling hopelessly with the scanner.
I'll post them when I can and continue the saga at a later
date.