Blown Into November

J.'s machinery lined up by his dirt pile.

Clear and chilly nights, huge silvery moon, days with intensely blue skies, sunshine.

The wind has been whisking leaves from the trees, fairly gently for the most part, but today has worked itself into steady gusts that rolled the rugs by the back porch door into heaps, sang noisily around the corners of the house and barn.

I wanted special food for Shelby-the-Kitten who was not well nourished in her place of origin, but I balked at the prospect of going to Wal Mart. Tractor Supply Company has a store in Columbia and one in Liberty.  Consulting with Jim, he suggested that I drive to Liberty, then proceed to the Dry Creek property to see the improvements made since my last visit.  He rattled off instructions about the best way to get there from Tractor Supply, but since I have notoriously no sense of direction, I pulled up google maps and typed in point of departure and destination.  Several options were presented and I wrote down the details of two possible routes, finding that I was somewhat familiar with the roads suggested.

I enjoy shopping at TSC [a glorified farm/home venue] even encumbered with a mask.  It took some time to gather food to keep the older cats for the next month, and a real search to locate a small sack of kibble specifically for a kitten.

TSC has a clothing section and I remembered that J.'s socks are once again in shabby condition.  After finding replacements for him I chose a package of fleecy socks for myself, and the special treat of an amaryllis bulb.

With all of this stowed in the back of the Honda, I reviewed my directions and started down the back streets to find Rte 49.  It became apparent that Google and the town of Liberty had not coordinated their efforts.  The printed directions ran me through a short street, [little more than an alley] landing me on a road with no name sign, no route designation. A right hand turn made sense and as the road lead out of town I expected soon to see a sign confirming the route number.  A mile or two of roaring up a twisting hill road with no signs and I decided the sensible thing was to turn back into town and drive into familiar territory. [Later I learned that I had chosen the correct road and could have continued.]

The second set of directions I had copied intersected with the route I was now driving, and I suppose I wanted to prove I could 'get there from here.'

To get to the gist of things, I managed to miss a vital turning somewhere along the endlessly looping, climbing, plunging roads, and ended up in familiar territory, but still some miles from my destination!

I felt somewhat vindicated when Howard stated that the absence of road signs coming out of Liberty does indeed make for confusion.

This evening I have pulled up the map and traced the three routes suggested, finding that [typically for the area] the proper highway number wasn't specified in the directions and some  details of 'short cuts' were missing.

At any rate, I finally arrived at the Dry Creek property, and although I lost time, my circuitous route wound through pleasant country, sun-washed and golden.

I viewed the mounds of soil which J. has been happily shoving about, admired the finished bridge constructed across Dry Creek last week by Howard and Jim.

Home to give the cats their 'tea,' and begin moving begonias in from the back porch. 

 I trimmed the lemon verbena which spent time in the greenhouse and laboriously towed it across the yard and in through the lower door. 

The wind was growing colder, blowing west by north-west, singing in my ears. 

I was glad to come inside and put the kettle on for a fortifying mug of tea.

Jim arrived home to mow the grass for what he hopes is the last time in this green autumn.

He brought with him the last of his planting of carrots to be added to my supper preparations.

I served them sliced on the diagonal, steamed and dressed with butter, a slosh of maple syrup and a sprinkling of cinnamon.

My clock announces 10:35--I try not to think that it is 'really' 11:35.  I dislike this meddling with clocks!

The frost will touch us tonight, temperatures dropping with the full moon.

It doesn't do to wonder what winter will bring in these strange times in which we are living.

A side view of the sturdy bridge.  This will make easier access into the property.

'Dry Creek' is seldom really 'dry'--and when there have been torrential rains the crossing has been for a few hours nearly impossible.

Renovations have covered most of the interior log walls on the second story of the house.  Much effort went into cleaning, staining and applying polyurethane. "Log Jam' has been used to reseal all the chinks.

About a mile from our house the road passes a farm with a large pond.

Canadian geese flock there year round.  I've often wished to stop with my camera, but usually too intent on errands.

Today on the way home I pulled off the road in a safe spot and walked back. The geese who were on the edge of the pond scuttled into the water and sailed off.; those on the farther bank were wary, but not too disturbed by me.

Parading toward the water.