Celebrating Two Years of Thimble

Thimble came to us August 17, 2024, rescued by Howard from the parking lot of the gas station/convenience store located where the ridge road joins the main route. 

She was starving, dirty, infested with fleas. She was not feral.

The storekeeper was dismissive when Howard asked how long the tiny cat had been there. 'Oh', said the man, 'A week or more.'

Howard bought a tin of cat food, opened it and lured the kitten into the shade of a tree. 

He convinced me, against better judgment, that I should go with him to meet this grubby waif.

She ran to him when he stepped out of the truck. He picked her up, reached in and dropped her in my lap whereupon she climbed my front and looked beseechingly at me with eyes too big for her bitty head.

Needless to say, she moved in with us.

The above photo is of Howard drying her after a first bath washed away some of the grime and bloody flea bites.

Thimble doesn't forget her resucuer.

We kept the kitten sequestered in the sunporch until she had been to the vet clinic: various 'shots,' deworming, ears cleaned, flea treatment.

Thimble has moved into the house, a tiny, busy presence. 

Still a bit frail looking after several weeks of nourishing kitten food.

Intrepid and adventurous!

Tummy shaved for spaying.

Thimble is still small, a wiry, muscular compactness that suggests Siamese ancestry.

Siamese behavior as well!

A basket case.

How dare you scold me!

Always helpful--sorting green beans.

Howard brought her a second-hand cat tower--a vantage point, a place to scramble and defend from 'The Other Cats!'

Could you open the window? I'd like to 'play' with the hummingbirds.

The face of innocence! Thimble supervises while I clear up the mess of potting soil, a damaged begonia, and broken crockery that was her latest venture. 

[But isn't she beautiful?]

I am never without a devoted helper--let's rearrange the pantry shelves. 

Watch me do gymnastics.

Thimble; Thimble-berry; Tinker-bell.

Intelligent; naughty; disruptive.

Busy-body; helpful companion;

A charmer. A keeper.

 

Lazy Morning/Productive Afternoon

During these years of retirement [or what has passed as such] we've not kept much of a schedule for sleeping, rising, eating meals.

As the weeks of the long heat wave have continued we've become even more erratic. 

One hot meal per day, usually eaten sometime before noon, seems to suffice with a sandwich or snack of cheese and crackers to fill the gaps.

Summer or winter, I tend to read until midnight or after and Jim has taken to watching whatever interests him at the moment on youtube.

That being stated, we are usually up and about the house between 7 and 8 in the morning.

This morning after waking around 6, I turned over toward the west window and rather promptly fell into a deep sleep. I was astonished when I woke again to find that it was 10 o'clock!

My little grey cat, Thimble, usually insists that I get out of bed to greet the day with her, which means checking the hummingbirds' morning arrival at their feeders, or noticing the pair of wild turkeys on their early patrol of the lower meadow.

Today Thimble was still curled in a tidy slumbering ball beside me. 

I can't state that I leaped from bed--my old body does not leap!

Jim was already at his desk, surfing marketplace,  a cup of coffee at his elbow and his cat, Elmo hovering at his ankles.

 I washed and dressed hastily, scurried into the kitchen where I had left a bowl of starter for mock sourdough bread to 'work' overnight on the counter. 

I flung myself into multi-tasking: mix the dough for the bread; boil a kettle for my tea; start a meal with leftover boiled potatoes frying in butter, breaded okra; refill the hummingbird feeders.

Jim wandered into the kitchen and took over the frying pans, sliced a Carolina Gold tomato, while I dealt with the bread.

After our impromptu meal [ brunch? lunch?] he went out to run the weed whacker around in the garden, while I committed to the kitchen.

 

The bread is not burnt--I was trying for an angle that didn't take in the clutter of bowls and measuring cups on the counter!

Since the oven would need to be on for the bread, I decided a pie was in order. The filling is a mix of frozen raspberries and blueberries.

I rolled a pie shell for a spinach quiche later in the week, stashed it in the freezer, and baked a smaller shell that may come in handy for a quick dessert. 

While the bread was baking I mixed banana bread, embellished with chocolate chips and chopped dates. [If I don't mention the dates Jim may unwittingly eat the banana bread!]

By 5 everything was out of the oven and cooling on racks, mixing bowls and measuring utensils washed and put away.

The results of the baking spree have been sampled and pronounced good.

Quilts At Misty Mountain

Vibrant Squares

Last Tuesday I rode with Jim to do errands which took us to South Fork.

We made the usual rounds of discount grocery stores, including Sunny Valley for soft ice cream which we ate in the car with the A/C running.

We stopped at Misty Mountain, an emporium filled with the best of non-electric kitchen gadgets, useful items for simple country living, sewing notions.

We were looking for 'fly stickers'--those nasty lengths of sticky ribbon which uncurl from a cardboard cylinder. They are the most efficient way we've found of dealing with the fruit flies and similar pests which come inside during the summer.

Misty Mountain also stocks bolts of the polyester [no iron!] dress fabrics, printed to look like old-fashioned calicos; quilt batting can be purchased by the yard, as can extra wide fabric designed for quilt backings [called 'lining' locally.]

Along a side wall toward the rear of the store is a gallery of quilts, most newly made and hand-quilted, a few vintage, as well as smaller pieces made of simple 'patches' and tied rather than quilted.

I enjoy taking a few minutes to view the quilts.

The display had been changed since I was in the store about a month ago.

The offerings this time had a distinctly more modern flair in terms of colorways and styles.

I share several photos here for those quilt makers and quilt lovers amongst my readers.

This quilt features groups of 'shapes' all in shades of subtly patterned indigo blues.

This one is definitely 'scrappy' with bright prints and solid colors.

More traditional; a beautiful applique with large white areas to display tiny stitches.

Heirloom quality.

Another colorful scrappy, meticulously pieced.

This one is a vintage 'Grandmother's Flower Garden'. 

This one immediately caught my attention as most unusual for the Amish/Mennonite women to be making. It is a larger scale of the shapes in the scrappier version above.

The fabrics are all subtly mottled 'blenders.'

Lastly, another meticulously crafted applique.

Note the intricate quilting.

A local woman is the designer of many of the quilts, creating the patterns for both piecing and hand quilting. 

You can view her designs on her Facebook page: Sunbonnet Quilts.

 

Small Barn, Big Project

The front of the relocated/repurposed barn.

An overhead door has been ordered.

A bit of background for those who may be new to our story.

When we purchased this property in autumn 2018, it consisted of 20 acres [more or less] a trash and rubble filled site where the former owners' house had burned, [mysteriously, we were told]  a pole barn with open-ended extensions on each side. The dirt floor was packed with dried manure, both interior sides were lined with crudely built animal pens/stalls. 

On the edge of the north wooded ravine, near the site of the burned house was the small barn we took to calling the 'snake shed.'

Gaps under the eaves and under the swing-out doors gave easy access to large black snakes who found it an ideal place to retire while shedding their skins. 

{ I entered the shed only in winter when I assumed the serpents would be sluggishly hibernating elsewhere.]

Inevitably the shed became storage space for a rotation of equipment and tools, other oddments that hadn't found a permanent place.

From time to time I mentioned that it was a shame some good purpose couldn't be found for the building. We even mentioned how an ell could be added, windows and doors installed to make a studio apartment. But--we didn't want a renter and there were always other projects ongoing.

Jim put considerable effort into refurbishing the pole barn, sectioning off a large workshop area and cementing a floor, having foam insulation installed, as well as a mini-split for heat and A/C.

The side extensions housed an ever-changing succession of project tractors, garden and lawn equipment, a wood splitter. Further attachments were a lean-to greenhouse and woodshed. 

I'm not going to dwell here on the fire which took the building, three vehicles, three vintage tractors, and all of Jim's considerable inventory of carpentry and mechanical tools and supplies.

It happened.

Dealing, or trying to deal, with the insurance company has been ongoing frustration.

Weeks of laborious and dirty cleanup, the hauling away of burned out vehicles, tool chests and scarcely recognizable objects were necessary before a decision could be made about how--and how much--to rebuild.

Jim explored the option of a new metal building, decided that by the time he purchased one, had it set up and then finished the interior, the cost would be more than he wanted to invest.

I cautiously mentioned the small barn as a replacement, didn't get much feedback.

Jim likes to keep his schemes and plans to himself until just ready to implement them!

The little barn tucked at the edge of the woods.

Deer and wild turkeys often foraged around the barn. In the left of the frame is a second-hand 'skid building' that Jim bought several years ago to hold yet more overflow of tools and such.

The smaller building is now positioned behind the barn with a covered connecting 'alley.'

When Jim decided to repurpose the building, he removed the loft, saving all the lumber.

The wooden doors were dismantled and the boards added to a growing stack.

 

Weeks of labor in hot weather before the building was reduced to a roofed shell.

A new cement pad was poured sized for the small barn.

Our grandson donated a day or two of helpful labor;

Our son and grand daughter showed up early on Father's Day to facilitate the grand move. 

They were likewise here to lend their hands after the barn had been relocated.

Last minute considerations.

Of course the dogs were here for the event!

Halfway up the lane--and caught on a hummock.

Howard also had to lop some branches that were overhanging the lane.

Not sure if the videos of the actual move will post.

It was a tense but ultimately triumphant half hour! 

Blogger is protesting that the videos I wanted to include of the barn move 'exceed file limit.'

I'm working from my small laptop with the few photos and videos I've managed to load from my iphone, juggling cords and plugs to transfer some hastily taken photos from my Canon Power Shot.

My desktop PC has gone to the computer shop to have its contents [hopefully] transferred to a new unit. 

Techy stuff isn't my forte, but I hope this post can serve as a partial update for those who have asked for a progress report.

Walking After Rain

Torrential downpours on Sunday, but no rain on Monday or Tuesday. 

This will be remembered as the summer of rain!

We expect drought through July and much of August here. This year our lack of rain was in early spring.

Yesterday [Wednesday] started as a day of sunshine with clouds occasionally drifting across the sun.

I spent much of the afternoon downstairs working on a quilt in progress. The large windows face south onto the back porch and the tree covered ravine beyond the now grass-grown lane.

Taking a break to stretch, I stepped out to the porch; the sky to the west was overcast and a slight breeze was bringing the scent of rain. Moments later the rain arrived, a half hour of staccato bursts.

Although the storm was brief it left  us with an early green dusk, a shimmer of fog and the muttering of distant thunder to the northeast. 

A shelf of cloud floated in the western sky.

I've not walked the meadow loop often in the extreme heat and humidity of the past weeks, but felt the urge to pull on my boots, walk to the mailbox and back through the upper meadow.

Hay has grown rankly since the Beachys last mowed and baled.

Jim has been too busy with barn renovation to bushhog the edges. Black walnut seedlings have sprung up along the north edge of the meadow, no doubt a product of the busy squirrel population. 

Rain has revived the flowers in tubs and pots near the front steps--rain working a magic that is seldom equaled by efforts with watering can or hose.

I didn't save the tag for these--hoping to recall the name, or at least recognize the plants another  year at my favorite nursery. They have bloomed, undaunted by heat.

My sunflowers are canted in all directions, still blooming.

Goldfinches are already gathering, keeping watch on the seed heads.

Every year I plant sunflowers designated as 'dwarf' and every year they tower above me. It occurs to me that perhaps it is the flower heads that are 'dwarfs, not the stalks.

Coming down the path I find that two clumps of purple coneflower have seeded along the edge of the woods. Perhaps birds carried the seed.

It was only a bit past 6 p.m. EDT but the lower meadow was haunted by green darkness. 

Pokeberry has flourished in the moist shade of under-story bushes and trees.

The south ravine is deepest here providing a boundary between our property and that of our neighbors.

For several seasons the power company came through and sprayed the area in an attempt to provide clearance for the electrical lines. I was surprised to see how this summer's unrestricted growth has filled the gulley with sumac, sassafras, and small, crowded tulip poplar.

The first heads of Joe Pye-weed are in bloom with goldenrod in the background. 

The undergrowth is so thick that it would be perilous to attempt walking down the slope. 

The 'gap' filled in with rampant green growth.

We worked outside this morning, Jim at his barn project, while

I dead-headed the small butterfly bushes which have thrived in these large pots placed just below the front porch.

The blooms are a lavender-blue.

The white buddleia, not as spectacular as those I've had in shades of fuchsia or purple, is cherished for its persistence in living through several hard winters.

I noticed it on a 'reduced for sale' table at Sunny Day Nursey several  years ago and felt it deserved a chance. 

Looking east a few minutes ago.

These great spangled Fritillaries don't mind that the coneflowers are prostrate.

A perfect Swallowtail on a coneflower in the overgrown wall border.

I fret about out of control weeds, but birds and butterflies don't mind the untidiness. 

Something of a lesson there [?]