We took a jaunt to Markham Springs a few weeks ago.  It was a wonderful way to celebrate early springtime in Missouri.  I hadn't been there since I was a young thing myself, and Kent had never been.  The kids had a blast.

At Markham Springs there are five different springs.  We didn't actually see them all because the kids got sidetracked with fishing in the springfed pond.  It is a lovely, clear, basically fishless pond.  There were some small minnows that the kids were able to catch with nets and use for bait, along with the worms they had dug up from Fernnook Farm before we left home, but besides those few little minnows, the pond was fishless.  Beautiful-yes, cold-yes, clear-yes, but fishy-NO.

Still, the Fernnook Kid's Club was busy for hours with casting, and rebaiting, and moving to more likely-looking spots.  There were some great quotes overheard by Kent and me.

Kathleen to me, "Either the fish aren't biting or there aren't any fish in this pond."  Me, "There aren't any fish here."  Kathleen acknowledged this with a shrug of her shoulders and an immediate recast of her line ino the pond.

Judah to Kent, "I don't care if there aren't any fish here, I am going to fish!"

Andrew to Kent, "I just love fishing."

So, fish they did!

And, I was so proud of them.  The biggles helped the middles with re-baiting, fixing lines, and any other fishy things that needed to be done.  Basically all Kent, Hattie, and I had to do was watch them and enjoy the beauty of the day.

A Season of Sorrow

I have been intending to write this post for some time now.  I want to capture for our collective memories the events and emotions of the past year for all of us here in Fernnook.

It was just about a year ago that we began to be worried about Uncle Jim.  He wasn't right.  He wasn't himself.  But, we were not sure what was going on with him or what to do about it.  As winter melted into spring, he became more and more erratic in his behavior and less and less stable in his ability to walk.  We began to take him meals, to get involved in getting him to his doctors, and to check on him multiple times a day.  

Then Aunt Jenny fell and broke her wrist.  That entailed a middle of the night trip to the ER for my cousins, an operation, and a hospital stay that was very traumatic for her and for her family.

So, the family was stretched...some caring for Jim and some for Jenny.  A couple of days after Jenny was released from the hospital, I saw an ambulance going down the gravel around midnight.  Cousin Sandy was staying with Stacy at Jenny's home helping to care for her.  I was sure the ambulance was for Jim, and called Cousin Kenny.  It wasn't.  He told me that it wasn't for Jim, it was for Jenny, and it didn't look good.  I was so grateful that Sandy was with Stacy when her mother died.

The next morning we decided that things had gone too far with Jim and we took him to the ER.  We were pretty sure he had lung cancer, but didn't know what was affecting his thinking and walking so severely.  Well we found out.  The lung cancer had spread to his brain and he had a tumor.  He was in a hospital in St. Louis recovering from brain surgery while we were at Jenny's funeral.

We fought so hard to get him treatment in time.  We all fought so hard for him.  But it was not in God's providence.  Two weeks of severe nosebleeds, two nose surgeries, and a stroke caused by one of the surgeries put off treatment for too long.  

We all came to the end of the summer tired, sad, and numb.  

For me personally, and for Kent, this was on top of a previous year which had us facing the deaths of Kent's father, Opa, and three very close church friends.  So, emotionally, when Jim died, it seemed our cup of sorrow was full to the brim.

In December, though, a series of events began that made us all feel like we were punching bags.  First, Andrew (our grandson who has CF) was hospitalized.  We were thankful to the Lord that what looked like a possible two week stay was cut down to four days, and he did get to be home for his family to celebrate Christmas a few days after the holiday itself.

Then, we were all heartbroken when Hattie, who was 12 weeks pregnant, miscarried two days before Christmas.  She and Ethan grieved deeply, as did we, over their loss.

Two days after Christmas, Uncle Ken (visiting his daughter Kelly in Houston) had a heart attack while he and Kenny were traveling home to Fernnook.  It happened in Tyler, TX, and he spent the next 38 days in the hospital in Tyler.  He responded well to a pace maker, but developed pneumonia, a UTI, a prostate infection, esophagitis, and ended up with a PEG feeding tube.  He was unable to swallow and lost the strength in his legs, and so was unable to walk.

Meanwhile, back in Fernnook, Papa (my dad) got a partially blocked lower intestine and was hospitalized for a week.  Then he also developed pneumonia.

One night, a few weeks later, Cousin Stacy called me at 3 am to see if I could come get her daughter Lizzie, because her other daughter, Emily, was unconscious after having a seizure.  Emily had seizures from bleeding on the brain 5 years ago, but she has been doing really well for several years.  That entailed a trip to the ER and a transfer up to Barnes.  Thankfully, there was no new bleeding and they believe it was a UTI that caused the episode with her.

Then I got a call from my Uncle David's caretaker.  She told me that they were putting David on hospice.  I have only seen him a few times in my life, but he is a dear, gentle soul, and this has been very sad for me.

Meanwhile, my brother Mike had a blood vessel growing toward his pupil that was affecting his eyesight and if left untreated could cause him to lose his sight in that eye.  So, he had a painful eye operation.

All this happened while Ken was still in the hospital in TX.  Just a week and a half ago, Ken took a rough ambulance ride to Van Buren to a rehab place there, but was immediately transferred to a different ambulance and taken to the hospital in Poplar Bluff.  They kept him for a week to get his heart rate back under control, then moved him to a rehab facility in the Bluff.  That was a disaster, and Kenny pulled him out yesterday and brought him home.

He is beginning to eat again, and, we pray, will be able to regain strength in his legs soon.  

If we have seemed distant or distracted or difficult to be with, forgive us.  We don't doubt the Lord's care for us, but it has been a long, rough season of sorrow for all of us here in Fernnook.

The Imps

 Andrew to me the other day, "Grandma, I just spit on your shoe." (And yes, sure enough, he did.  A nice little pool of spit was just sitting there on my shoe.)

Adeline to Grandpa Kent as he was carrying her on a hike through the woods, "Where we are, Grandpa?"

Andrew and Adeline tonight at our New Year's Eve get-together...dancing on the table, uprooting the aloe plant, dis-leafing the parsley, in the tub washing their feet together...regular little imps.  Just missing their third partner in crime, Chappell.  

Oliver M. Chappell

 Oliver M. Chappell

Toliver Chappell and Mary Mink’s boy

Born in 1872/3 date unknown

Died aged 11 years old

Cause and date unknown

Records lost in courthouse fire

He was Hattie Chappell Simon's brother 

In 1880 he was eight and Hattie was six

(Amazing how much Peter Harding looks like him.)

Letter from Grandpa Marion to Grandma Opal ( shared with me from Uncle Jim)

 

(From Jim to me on May 3, 2018)  Following is a letter Marion wrote to Opal in Oct 1929. It is not the complete letter but only three pages of it.  Opal would have just turned 19 and Marion was 24.  He was writing from Flint Michigan.  You must remember Marion only had a fifth grade education if that much so I made a few corrections to spelling and grammar.  From the way the letter was going Opal may have censored the last page and made sure it did not get saved.  Pure speculation on my part. We can thank Ty for locating this. He was the finder of the treasure.

Here it is:

Oct. 28th 1929

Miss Opal Simon,

My dearest loving little girl, I will write you a few lines tonight. How are you and what are you doing to pass the time off?  I wonder if you are thinking of your old lonesome boy tonight and wishing you could be with him to cheer him up.  Baby, life sure seems dull sometimes, if I didn’t have you to think about I don’t know what I would do but I know we will be together sometimes and so it makes me glad about it.  Because I can have you for always, Baby girl, isn’t that nice for us to be together for always and for me to love you for all time.  It just seems so good honey I can hardly stand to wait for I want you so bad.  Oh! Opal darling I know we will always be happy together.  For I could be happy with you anywhere on earth and I know you would always love me and we wouldn’t be jealous at one another because we wouldn’t do anything to be jealous over.  Opal darling don’t you ever doubt me for I will always be true to you, because I know I love you and I don’t want other women.  I would rather kiss you than any girl I’ve ever known and Opal darling I know just how you are.  I know it would be lots nicer if I had lots of money and I could give you anything you wanted.  But Baby girl I haven’t got it. I can only give you my love but sweetheart I can work for you and we can get by.  Opal sweetheart as much as I love you I would give you up if you could marry some man with lots of money and you could be happy with him.  But it sure would be a pain for me to have to give you up.

Fall and Winter Doings

We at Fernnook have had a busy Fall and start to Winter.  Having Ken and Kenny Joe here have added to the ideas for fun and festivities.  One tradition we started was to enter a Fernnook float in the Doniphan Lighted Christmas Parade.  Somehow we didn't place...but we did have a blast.  Even Grandpa Jerry Martin joined the Potbelly Gnomes as an Honorary Leading Citizen of the Province of Fernnook.  Unfortunately KJ fell off the float.  It was embarrasing for him, but there were no broken bones.  His motto, as it should be, is, "Whatever it takes to get Fernook on the map!"

A few weeks later on Christmas Eve we had our traditional appetizers and gifts.  But, we broke tradition on Christmas Day, and instead of having ham and picnic sides, Ken and Kenny Joe did a reverse sear on some lovely prime rib.  To make the day more perfect, we were blessed with a lovely warm day...the kids had a blast playing kickball and riding their bikes.  Some of them (the younger set) were playing pirates in Papa Bob's boat.  Somehow the key from one of the tractors ended up in the boat, and it took Papa a good while to find it the next day (oops!)    

 

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!"

 

The other day, Tyler and Adeline stopped by for dinner.  Adeline was carrying a little watering can and told me this was her friend.  It was a frog.  "How cute," thought I.  "She is so good at pretending.  The watering can is her pretend frog friend."  During dinner her friend sat on the table, and she tried to squish a pear down the spout.  Then when we told her to take the pear out of the spout, she popped it in her mouth...ugh...but so 3 year oldish.  Why did she try to put a pear down the spout?  Well, to feed the frog, why else?  It wasn't until quite some time had passed, that I happened to look into the watering can.  And what did my little eyes behold?  Why, a frog, of course.  A green, sticky, long, skinny frog just sitting in the bottom of the watering can.  That watering can made a nice little home for her little frog.

Another Adeline story happened last week.  Kent was watching the kids outside during Wednesday night Bible study.  Two of the kids were on the swings, and there were only two swings and Adeline wanted to swing.  So, she turned to her grandpa and said, "When will it be my turn, Brother Kent?"  That's what you get from going to church where your grandpa is the pastor.  And tonight I heard that little Kate Smith was playing with her Barbie dolls with her dad.  She handed her dad the Ken doll and said, "This is Brother Kent.  Will you put these sandals on him, dad?"  

This post has nothing to do with garden spiders really.  I just like this picture that I took a few years ago.  I have had a few of them (garden spiders) on the porch in the last week, and I do love me a good garden spider.  The bigger the better.  They fascinate the children with their trampoline web skills.  And...I did have a cool, huge wolf spider (or maybe not a wolf spider, but whatever it was, it was huge) that had an egg case hatch out on my porch.  There were thousands of teeny-tiny spiders on my gardening shelves.  But, what really caught my attention yesterday as I was tooling down Fern Hollow Lane (towards Mike and Deb's place), and the real reason for this post, was something in the middle of the road that was flopping back and forth.  My glasses are not the right prescription anymore, and I had a hard time seeing what it was until I was right nigh on it.  Then I could see it was a snake. At first glance, it looked like a two-headed snake (like the one at the Cape Girardeau Conservation Building).  After I was able to untangle it in my mind, I could see that it had just one head with one very large and open mouth trying to swallow a huge frog.  I must have spooked it because the frog got loose, but only for a second.  The snake snatched it back up and quickly slithered off into the weeds with the frog squealing.  It was a nice size black snake-maybe two feet long.  May it live to have many successful hunts.

Oh, I received a text today from Natalie.  She said, "I was going to take a picture of Peeta's new praying mantis pet but a hen ate it."  She knows that much as I like spiders and snakes, I do not like praying mantises.  I answered her, "Poor Peeta; happy hen."

 

Photo by Dick Daniels

A few days ago, I noticed a nasty smell near our front door.  At first, I though, "Oh, it's from the Japanese Beetle trap."  Mount Doom, my beloved crepe myrtle, has been poorly this year.  Some might think it is because it is confined to a hole in our little concrete patio...but that is not the problem.  Mount Doom was totally infested with Japanese Beetles this year, and I was close to heartbroken over it.  Japanese Beetles, though, I have learned, are easy to trap...so trap them I have been doing.  That and beating Mount Doom in the evening with a rake and then joyfully squishing the bugs that fall off onto the patio.

But, the reek was not from the beetle trap.  It does stink, but this stink was really and truly by the front door.  So, I said to Kent, "There must be something dead under the porch."  At least, I hoped it was under the porch.  Under the porch is hard to get to, but under the trailer is much harder...I did not want Kent to have to go under the trailer to drag out some dead critter.  So we hunkered down and pointed a flashlight back into the recesses under the porch.  There was a something there, and it looked like a big duck.  Joel and Nat have ducks and I was afeared it was one of theirs.  Or, possibly one of the wild ducks that sometimes paddle around in our small pond.

Kent slithered in through the hole and put that big dead thing in a trashbag.  Now, it is dark under the porch, so he didn't get a good look at it then, but once he got out and handed me the bag, I could see it was not a duck at all.  It was a big black headed vulture.  I do not like black headed vultures.  They have migrated into our area, and they are calf killers.  They are also a very creepy bird.  They love to hang out in dead trees and old buildings, like in the old Simon barn that is in Tyler and Jen's field.   

Bill saw a hurt vulture on the lane the other day.  This guy must have wandered all the way to our porch and crawled under it.  Thanks to Kent, the smell is gone.  That is good news for all the folks who walk through my door.

And, totally unrelated to the vulture, I have high hopes that Mount Doom will yet blaze with blooms this year now that the beetle population is getting under control.  Squish, squish.

Opa and Oma Tidbits

The above pictures of Opa and Oma are from quite a few years ago.  They are both 90 now, and Oma has been in rehab with a broken femur while various family members have been staying with Opa.  I am with him this week, and I have been asking him some questions.  I do not doubt that most of the older Hardings know these stories, but I wanted to get them down as best I could.  He struggled a little in telling them, so forgive me (you who know the stories best) if I have told them wrong.

I asked Opa about what Christmas was like when he was growing up.  He said that his dad, Papa, would go out Christmas Eve to get the tree and then DeeDee and Papa would decorate it.  If Papa did not come home with a really nice tree, DeeDee was not happy.  Sometimes some of the gifts would be tied to the tree as part of the decorations.  

There are two gifts that really stick out in Opa's memory.  One was an electric car that he could ride in.  The other is part of a sad memory for him.  His dad gave him a really nice, rather expensive watch, and that was the only gift he received that year.  The girls though (Opa's 3 sisters), received several gifts each...toys, clothes, and various other things.  Opa feels bad because he hurt his dad's feelings over not appreciating his watch.  He was upset that he only received one gift.  He came to understand, though, the value of that gift in later days.

Opa's mom had a temper, but his dad was usually pretty easy going.  There is one time, though, that Opa remembers Papa being very angry with him.  When Opa was 17, the family moved off of Humphry Street where they had rented for years to a house that was outside of the city.  It took a ride on two different buses for Opa to get to his old friends.  One Saturday, Opa rode back into the city to hang out with his friends at The Pool, a pool hall they frequented.  Because it was a Saturday, when Opa headed home, there weren't as many buses running as there were during the week. This meant he had to wait extra long times to catch the two buses he needed to get home, and the outcome was that he arrived at the house past his curfew.  To top it off, he had forgotten his keys.  So, he knocked on the door.  Usually, when one of the kids was late, it was DeeDee who would answer the door and give the miscreant a piece of her mind.  This time, though, Papa answered the door.  He was so angry at having to get up in the middle of the night to let Opa in that he just hauled off and hit him in the face.  Opa said that was the only time that Papa ever struck him.

But, then Opa turned his mind to one of his favorite memories.  He was leaving for the army during the Korean War.  Oma was going to stay with Papa and DeeDee, and Papa drove Opa to the place where he was meeting all the other recruits to ship out.  Papa put his hand on Opa's shoulder and asked him if he was really sure this was what he wanted to do.  He told Opa that if he was not sure, he knew some people that would be able to work towards getting him out of leaving.  It was a very tender moment for Opa, and it made him feel very loved by Papa.  Opa, of course, chose to stay enlisted.  He felt that Papa was sensitive about the military because he hadn't served in WWII since he had a family.  Instead, his war effort was put in here in the States producing food.

And...just so they don't get lost somewhere, here are a few tidbits I learned today.

Papa and DeeDee met at work.  They both worked for a place that made car parts.  The business is no longer there, but the building is.  Opa said that DeeDee would come in late so often that she was fired.

His favorite cousin was Ardell Jr.  He could walk to Ardell's house from Humphry Street.

DeeDee really spent a lot of time and effort to make sure the girls were dressed nicely.

Then, a bit of a zag here, Oma has been talking with her half-sister, Bobbie, a lot since being in rehab.  Oma was an only child (we thought), and her dad, Addison, left her mother (Honey) and her when Oma was a baby.  She never saw him after that.  (He did come to Honey once and ask to see Oma.  Honey let him look at her across a school playground.  Then Addison left and was never heard of by the two of them again.)   Just recently, through some research on Ancestry, Bill connected with a half-sister of Oma's that we knew nothing about.  That is Bobbie.  They haven't met, but they do talk, and recently quite a bit.  Bobbie told her that some years ago, Addison's wife (who was from Ohio) and Addison were driving in Colorado when he had a heart attack and died in the car.  She drove him to a funeral home there in Colorado and left him.  

Nothing big or exciting or earth-shattering...just some family lore I would like to save for future generations.

  

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