Thanksgiving Week in Retrospect [with photo over-load!]

Early in the week I set myself to sorting the disrupted bedroom.

J. turned a conveniently deaf ear to my pleas for assistance in rearranging a framed picture or two, so I decided to risk the bashing of mis-placed nails and managed to hang the lower quilt block on the second try,

and got up the brackets for the wall-hanging--at which point I discovered I had never created a 'rod-pocket' on the back of said quilt--so down to the family room to some speedy hand stitching.

Most of my large quilts were made when we used a queen-sized bed, so there isn't much allowance for the king-sized bed.  The fabrics in this Bear Tracks quilt are some of my favorites, so I folded it over the coverlet where the autumn colors can be enjoyed.

The cats have decided they can deal with the rearrangement of furniture.

I moved the quilt rack to the end of the hallway below my g-grandparent's framed wedding certificate.

The pieced blocks in the blue Double Four-Patch quilt were hand sewn in 1916 by Esther Jane Lewis who was then 9 years old.  The quilt was in rough shape when I acquired it after her death.

I picked out the best of the blocks, including the signed one, and reset them with a fabric

which had a vintage look.

The quilt on the back bar is a very simple one stitched up on a snowy December day using remnants of winter-themed fabrics in dull greens, deep reds and old gold.

The day before Thanksgiving was cool, with intermittant showers.

Pebbles refuses to 'go in out of the rain' and grazes along the edge of her pasture.

At times during the afternoon the clouds parted over whisps of blue sky

and rather lack-luster sunshine picked out the leafless trees beyond the creek.

Frosty nights have blackened the most tender herbs in the little plot just off the back door.

This tri-color sage has grown fresh new leaves since I harvested sage and thyme last month.

This is one of the lavenders I raised from seed this season.

I have hopes that it will winter.

Gina and her cousin Susan hatched plans for a family Thanksgiving get-together.

S. and her family live about 5 1/2 hours away and are intrepid travelers.

G. and I planned meals, divided up the cooking and baking.

G. had sleeping spaces for the three teenagers. I plumped pillows and folded a Maple Leaf quilt over the foot of the bed in our guestroom/office for Susan and Mark.

I was in the midst of a baking orgy when the family drove in after lunch at G.'s.

[My out-put for the day was 4 loaves of bread, 3 pies, and a pan of cranberry/date bars.]

D. was designated to convey a pie and loaf of bread, still warm, to friends up the road who are in the midst of a house renovation.

S. is a multi-talented and creative person.

She brought us gifts of her homemade jams, pickles and conserves.

Whether at home or visiting, she is out of bed and showered, moving soundlessly about before daylight.

When I arose at 7 she was cozily installed in the rocking chair by the fire, stitching at one of her beautiful applique projects.

This young gentleman did NOT ride on top of the mattress which was being moved a mile down the road to Gina's house!

Thanksgiving Day was warm and sunny. Dinner was planned for mid-afternoon.

J.'s cow gave birth on Wednesday, and Thursday morning brought a distress call from the Yoders [where Dory the Cow is boarded.]

Dory was down with 'milk-fever' [hypocalcemia] and of course the farm supply store was closed for the holiday.  J. rushed to borrow a bottle of calcium solution from the Jersey farm up the road, had to visit another neighbor to find the rubber tubing and needle to administer it.

Dory didn't respond as well as expected, so a call was made to a local vet who provided another bottle of calcium as well as a calcium paste to be given orally.

[She survived--after a shaky few hours.]

There was still time for the men of the family to haul a load of firewood---a job undertaken with considerable good humor--before we gathered at G.'s house for the Thanksgiving feast.

Friday afternoon was a time for farewells and the promise to gather again soon.

The leftovers have been cheerfully shared and consummed.

G. [blessings on her!] is busy today decorating her house for the Christmas season.

Here, a mile down the road, its been a quiet Sunday---time this morning for me to read by the fire while J. poked at his laptop and Willis the Barncat appropriated his chair.

As the day draws into night's early darkness, our little house is filling with the good smells of

beef simmering in a thick gravy; J. has fetched in some of the last potatoes from the garden which have been scrubbed and tucked in the oven to bake.

Coleslaw made from one of our late cabbages is waiting in the fridge.

G. and D. have been alerted that we have dinner to share.

A Bit of Silliness

After a damp and rainy start to the day, afternoon brought warm sunshine and puffy white clouds

drifting on a blue sky.

J. and M. were away, so I enlisted daughter G. and grandson D. to help demolish the left-overs from last night's roast chicken and fixings.

We made short work of the food and D. suggested we trek down to the creek.

Big Creek has recovered from the drought of August and its rippling surface mirrored the sailing clouds and the lazy downward spiraling of yellowed leaves.

G. is on a binge of decorating her porch in autumn  finds, so we gathered vines to be twisted into wreaths, picked up glossy acorns, judged the merits of various seedpods and grasses which might

be dried to add to a display.

I suggested a few ears of field corn could be tied into a spray for the front door and we were off, boots swishing through the tall dank grass, jewelweed and boneset which line the shallow ditch between the barns and the 15 acres leased out to corn.

.

I wasn't surprised to see that stalks on the outer edges of the field have suffered damage from wild animals.

It is racoons, and possibly possums, who topple the stalks so that they can feed comfortably on the kernals of drying corn.

D. pointed out that it would be deer who stripped back the husks and nibbled at the ears of corn, leaving the stalks upright.

Shouldering our way into the interior rows we found any number of places which bore the evidence of

four-footed diners.

Then---we all got purely silly.

[Be it known that I am usually of a fairly sober turn of mind.  If anyone can inspire me to sheer foolery, it would be G. and D.]

D. and I clown at the edge of the corn field.  I have my trusty garden clippers clutched, ready for action.

Look out--we're on the prowl!

G. put down the camera and plunged into the thicket of corn

providing me with inspiration!

G. had bundled up her ears of salvaged corn when I reminded her that there was apparently

a tradition of poor country people using corn cobs in lieu of fancy toilet tissue.

She struck a naughty pose while I threatened to administer discipline.

A salute from Cornfield County!

[Anybody remember Hee-Haw?]

The long edge of the cornfield borders the neighboring woods.

Here it appeared that raccoons had chosen their corn and carried it from the field to enjoy at their leisure

in the shelter of the vine-draped trees.

A tree had toppled near the fence line since I have walked there.

Its lichen covered trunk was an easy vault for D.

G. decided to join her son on the damp lichen-slicked trunk and began crawling from the broken end which rested in the tangled grass. She got part way across, looked down the four feet or so into the ditch and got the wobbles.

Mother and son share a love of ridiculous posing.

[I could be prejudiced in thinking they are a good-looking pair!]

We often see wild turkeys hurrying across the back pasture and I hear their wittering calls from the darkness of the woods.  Today I found two beautifully marked bronze feathers.

I daresay the turkeys are pecking up the corn kernals which the other animals

carelessly scatter.

Je te plumerai le bec.....

D. cannot resist the urge to be a "ham" for the camera!

As G. says, it doesn't take much to entertain us country folk!

The husks on this ear of corn had been pulled back--whether by hasty scrabbling claws or the

determined teeth of a deer.

It was already cool in the shadows cast by the two old barns.

D. discovered this garden spider who has strung her web between an upright edge of barn siding and a sturdy stalk of grass.

This grasshopper, his armour blending with the weathered boards

had no idea that he was enjoying his last moments of life.

The spider packages the unlucky grasshopper in a mesh of sticky thread.

Tex-the-Dog plods after his family as they load their decorative harvest in the back of the truck.

With the sun sliding behind the woods the air was growing cool

and we reluctantly headed back to our two welcoming houses.

They've Done It Again!

The king and queen of yardsales were on the road early this morning, having discovered that no less than 35 advertised yard sales were on starting at 7 a.m.

They roared in to our yard about noon with the back of the pickup full, as well as the back seat of the cab.

M. had a vintage dove-tailed wooden box crammed with blingy baubles; they had porch planters, a hanging quilt rack still in the box, more framed prints--a list too long for me to remember.

Here is G. showing off her special treasures from the second round:

a couple a ridge or two away have retired from a custom drapery and soft furnishings business and were selling off the samples. Gina [who doesn't sew--but says she could] snapped up some 300+ chunks of fine fabric in coordinating lines.

Fodder for quilts, cushions, shams, placemats--you name it, we are intending to produce it!

How about bags and carry-alls? Table runners?

G. is enthused about the yellow flower print.

"Take more photos, Mom"--"These are to show the Smith girls!"

I felt I was entitled to this lovely chunk of rose-patterned linen!

The lady selling the fabrics invited G. into her home and showed her the decor,

"threw in" a toile bedskirt which matches this big piece of fabric.

Who do you suppose will be measuring up for the pillow shams?

I was requested to take  a shot with all the fabric pieces draped on the truck.

The sellers chatted in the friendly way of Southerners, and declared that their grand daughter is one of the young ladies who came home enthralled with the "new boy" at the high school--none other than grandson D.

As conversation developed the connection was made with the Columbia Magazine photos and stories featuring "Snort'n Nort'n" and Willis the Barn Cat.

It pays to be related!---even to a cat!

D. hamming it up--he has caught perfectly the stance of the local auction barn assistant.

Oh, and to finish, a pretty rug for what is becoming known as the "rose room"--Gina's private lair

in the new house.

I really think these two will need to open their own shop of collectable wares!