These go to eleven......

So my dear friend  Naomi nominated Huginn-Muninn for an award.  I am not a frequent winner of awards, so naturally, I was intrigued.  The only issue I have with this particular award is that I really don't get it.  I suppose that I understand the point of the award, but I don't understand the name.  I would bet Naomi doesn't really get it either, but she's polite.   I am not going to make this a point of contention but rather express my gratitude for the honor.   Unfortunately, I have to do more in accepting than just say "thank you"....I have to nominate other blogs  as well as tell the world ten (interesting) things about myself.   This is really the hard part.  I don't much care for talking about me.    My initial impulse was to reveal every horrible vice, character flaw, and hang-up that I harbor, but that seems unhealthy for everyone involved.   Additionally,  being limited to ten items makes choosing from my myriad (sorry, Mike, I know you hate that word) flaws  exhausting.  So I'll just figure it out as I go, I suppose.

Anyway, here's what Naomi had to say about the Honest Scrap award:



1. You express your gratitude, Oscar-style, at getting the award and you credit your nominator. You also paste the Honest Scrap picture on your blog.

2. You tell 10 honest, interesting things about yourself in a blog post. For some bloggers, that may be simple (or hard because they already reveal everything about themselves in their blogs). For me, it's "hard" because my personal idiosyncrasies are really not the purview of my blog -- I mostly keep my other pursuits out of the internet world. Also, I am not predisposed to brag on myself, but nor do I wish to disparage myself in public (as it were). But this will be an atypical entry, I suppose.

3. You choose 7 other blogs to nominate for the award, and notify them, so they can do the same thing. (I read anywhere between 7 and 10 nominations, but I'm going on the low side due to point #3 below.) Of course it's optional, and I almost didn't do it... but then I figured.... why not? It's cool that people -- or at least one person -- wants to know more about me. And I enjoyed reading her 10 things, so..."

And at this point she goes on to reveal ten things about herself, a few of which were news to me.   My favorite is the revelation to the world that she is a reality TV whore.  Kind of a strong word, but I think she would agree with its use.  I also didn't know she had major calendar issues--I gave her one of the calendars she is referring to, and now know she will never receive another from me since she isn't using them properly.

Anyway, here are the seven blogs I do sort of follow, or at least check in with every month or so.

1.    Nature Nerd...A Phenology Blog One of the two I read daily.  Even though I talk to Naomi every day, sometimes she saves the really good stuff for the blog.  Her drawings are amazing.

2.  Chicago Gardener's Journal The second blog I check each morning.....Chris keeps the world updated on what's going on in his head, his garden, and his kitchen.  Oddly enough, he also has four calendars in his house which currently show the wrong month.  Bizarre.

3.   Fractured Thoughts I love reading the Veteran's progress as a somewhat new naturalist.  I also enjoy the fact that he has diverse interests and isn't afraid to write about them--progressive rock posts married with fungi posts is definitely a good thing.

4.  Greentangle What a great quote he uses in his header....I stumbled upon this blog and was compelled to read just because of that quote.  I was was happy to find that the rest of his blog is just as interesting.    His picture reminds me a bit of Edward Abbey, which also makes me like him.  I must remember to list in my ten revelations that I am impossibly shallow.

5.  Rurality Just plain fun to read.

6.  Rocky Mountain Photography I don't remember how I came across this photography blog, but the photos are incredible.  Cody makes the life of a wildlife photographer sound exactly like what it is--hard work.  I also realize, after perusing Cody's photographs, how incredibly sucky Illinois wildlife is.  No elk, no lions, no bear.  We do have chipmunks.

That's it.  I am supposed to have a 7th blog, but I don't.  Six is all I can handle anyway.  I think reading blogs is part of the reason for my inability lately to read actual books.  My attention span which was short to start, is getting shorter.  On that note.....

1.  I don't like salad as much as I should.  I also like salad even less when I have made it myself.


2.  I secretly love People magazine.   I can't really even explain this.  Nor do I want to.


3.  I like Kola better than most people.  And if you knew her you would feel the same way.  My children call me a Dog Hag.  I don't know what this means to them, but I find it amusing.  There are worse things to be called.


4.  I didn't finish college.  I am not proud of this and it is a source of daily regret.  I am however, proud of the fact that most of what I do know, I taught myself.    But no-one is going to give me a job I  because I read some books.  They're all looking for that special piece of paper which I don't have.  This might be okay right now though because what I think I want to do changes from one day to the next.


5.   I talk to birds.  This really irritates the children, but I do it anyway.  I say good morning and goodbye, ask what they're doing, how they're feeling, if it's cold, how the hunting is, etc.   It seems like the right thing to do, so I will continue.  I don't care that they don't answer me.  Someday, one of them will.


6.  I can do a lot of things, but none of them expertly.  I should pick one thing (fly-tying, jewelry-making, tanning, photography, writing, drawing, gardening) and work to do it really well.  Instead, I do a lot of stuff, and all of it half-assed.  There are too many great things to do in the world and I hate choosing.


7.  I was not my fully formed self until I was almost thirty.  I spent a good deal of time being outside as a kid, but I don't think I loved it.  It was a source of irritation and embarrassment for a lot of years (as in, why are we going to a forest preserve when everyone else is going to an amusement park over Spring Break?) and I let it fall away for a long time.  Sometime after our son was born I picked up a copy of  Desert Solitaire for a reason I cannot remember, (possibly because my dad had been badgering me about reading Ed Abbey for years) and that was it.....I have not looked back since and my only regret are the years (five of them before we had children) we could have been camping, walking, climbing and wandering.  Strangely enough, Mike also did not become his real self until around the time I did.  I am glad we moved together and in the same direction though. It would have sucked if I wanted to be nature girl and he took up gambling or hot-rods.  Or, conversely, if he wanted to camp and I started getting manicures.  Now that I think of it, my honeymoon was spent in a one-room, no running water cabin in Michigan, and I was horrified.   That gives a good idea of how different I was.  A honeymoon that sounds like a dream now, but eighteen years ago, I was not down with it.


8.  I enjoy the occasional Gordon Lightfoot disc.  And I had a rather brief, yet thrilling conversation with him on the radio at the age of 11.   Gordon was the first record I ever owned, given to me by my dad.  My musical taste continues to be somewhat odd.


9.  I either love or intensely dislike everything--there's not a lot of in-between for me.   I'm also not into moderation, except for weather.  I hate it when it's under 20 or over 85.  I have 65 degrees in which I can be happy.


10.   I wish I was a runner. I have dreams about running about as often as I do about crows, which is at least once a week.  I probably won't become a runner, but I sure wish I would.


11.  I've had to employ Mike to get this list finished, and his last offering is that I have fingers resembling those of  a tree frog.


So that's 11.  I had no intention of adding the last item, but Mike thought it was too hilarious a fact to leave behind. He also gets credit for remembering the Gordon Lightfoot thing.  I hope I did this right--I have not informed the bloggers I nominated, but I will do so soon.   Which leads to #12...I have a procrastination problem.

Playing catch up

The last time I posted, it was August.  August 18th, to be exact.  Meteorogically speaking, summer was on the wane, but from a practical standpoint it had really just started.  The temperatures behaved in a summerlike fashion for a few weeks and then either spring returned or fall came early, depending on which of these two chilly seasons you prefer.  I can't remember everything of the last almost three months, but I know a few things.

The grape harvest in September was rather disappointing.  We pruned the vines too hard last winter and had far fewer grapes than we would have liked.  This was especially unhappy for Naomi, who had her eye on the grapes for jam purposes.  Mike harvested every last bunch when none of us were around, and sent all to the freezer for winter consumption.  By the end of the summer, however, we had strawberry jam, salsa, pickles, and tomatoes put up for the winter.  The only problem being that I gave away most of the jam and salsa before September.   Naomi's larder, I believe  is yet full, as she was far more dedicated to farm-wifery than I and ended up with at least six varieties of jam and a lot of salsa, pickles, pasta sauce, applesauce, apple butter, as well as a whole mess of other canned and frozen goodies.

Hen of the Woods season has come and gone.  Mike was of the opinion that the season starts when we have a few cool nights followed by rain, but we determined that those conditions do not necessarily produce mushrooms.  The season was short and we never had the motherlode of fruit we have in past years.   We ate mushroom suppers two nights in a row, sent a bag to the freezer, a bag to friends, and that was it.

Goldfinches, who were just finishing raising their broods in August, are now elsewhere.  Robins flocked up, ate like crazy, and are mostly gone as well.  Red-Winged Blackbirds are still hanging around in limited numbers--they became vocal and numerous about a month ago, making me think it was spring again.  Each time I heard their trill, my brain said "Spring!"  and I was momentarily fooled.  I never realized how much I associated their song with late March.  I am happy they've quit their attempts to confuse me because it was a bummer.  Juncos are back from wherever it is they spent the summer.   Starlings, though they never left, are everywhere.  I don't know what they do all summer, but they thankfully are absent from my yard until October, when they show up in the Cottonwood each morning  in very large numbers.   The Blue Jays, also non-migratory, are insane lately.  They appear in the tree out front by 7am and begin yelling like mad.  From inside the house, I interpret this yelling as "Bring us peanuts!" and do their bidding.  I don't know what they are really going on about, but my translation is working so far.   They are smart enough to arrive before the crows and end up eating a pound of peanuts before I re-fill the dish when the crows do finally make their morning appearance.  Both jays and crows have been having their peanut meals in the front of the house for the last six weeks--probably not a good idea on my part.  Neighbors may not enjoy pulling into a cul-de-sac littered with crows.  There are seven of them all told;  they prowl the sidewalks and generally make themselves known. While six eat and goof around, the seventh perches as sentinel to watch out for everyone on the ground.  I've lost a lot of time on Saturdays watching them when I should be cleaning the house.

Trips have been taken, though sadly, none by me.  Mike has backpacked and fished in Canada, hunted dove somewhere downstate, taken Kola to South Dakota for pheasant, grouse, and prairie chicken,  gone to the farm for a deer.  The fish have been consumed, as have a good deal of the grouse, pheasant, and prairie chicken.  The doves will be eaten this evening, baked with cornbread dressing, roasted root vegetables, and morel sauce.  We are, however, venison-less so far this season.   Both Mike and the boy returned from trips to the farm empty-handed, and Mike has decided to take a few years off from deer, for reasons which remain his own.   This weekend husband, son, and dog head to the Champaign area for pheasant, and there has been talk of a January trip to Kansas for some upland bird, though I don't remember which.  Pheasant are my least favorite eating bird, but their numbers seem most numerous and thus appear in our kitchen more often than the preferred grouse, woodcock, and prairie chicken.

The garden has been overhauled thanks to the efforts of Chris and Naomi.  After listening to my whining about the inefficiency and nightmarish quality of the vegetable garden, Chris drew up a plan to fix everything.  We spent a beautiful October day (when Mike was away gallivanting through South Dakota with Kola) working, and the result is beautiful and functional.   We put 25 cloves of garlic in one bed and have plans for the other beds--as soon as seed catalogs begin arriving in January I will start the mental planting.

I now feel like I have caught up, at least to a degree.  While I put a lot of thought into at least a dozen posts over the last ten weeks, the combination of work, family, dog, cooking, etc., made completion of anything nearly impossible.  I never meant to quit, but there were days when I really thought I would never get back.  Though things have not really calmed down, the slowly closing window of good weather does add a little time to each day.  For the next few months (realistically, more like six) I won't be outside for hours except on the best of days.   For now, though, temperatures are still in the 50's and the days of rain have stopped.  Most of the trees are bare save their fruit, the prairie has gone brown, and the sunsets have taken on their winter characteristics.  While summer sunsets are beautiful, nothing can compare to the way the evening sky looks in late fall and winter.  Maybe it is only the absence of color in the rest of the landscape which makes the winter sky so magical--matters not, though--it's something to look forward to while we wait for whatever the rest of the season holds.