A Good Start

A new month, almost a new season....Actually, it is a new season, even though the calendar has yet to catch up. We've been blessed with early snow, and lots of it. I finished the woodpile on November 8th, and at that point, I declared that snow could come anytime. Providence stepped in, and our first flakes fell that weekend. Since then, we've been collecting inches, inches, and more inches.
Here is my classic shot, taken of the lake and sauna from our upstairs window. I took this on Thanksgiving Day. We got between six and eight inches overnight. Paul and I spent the prior evening driving home from Two Harbors. He had gotten a ride to that point, and while I waited for him to arrive, I watched the snowstorm begin. It came with a vengeance, and caused some pretty intense times while we motored up the shore. We had to stop periodically to wipe the heavy wet snow off of our headlights, and at those moments, we could hear the roar of the lake. While standing out there, watching big flakes rapidly fall to the ground, the weather didn't seem so bad. But as soon as we started to drive again, the visibility dropped like a stone. What kept me trucking along was a seriously great set of tires and a good knowledge of the road. Once we reached the Gunflint Trail, the visibility improved and the snow depth increased. We just kept pushing along, and we remembered our big adventure of a few years back. Before leaving Grand Marais, we had called Greg, so he knew that we were on the Trail. If we hadn't gotten home within two hours, he planned to come out looking for us. Fortunately, we arrived in an hour and a half, for a total of four and a half hours of drive time. While I was driving, I couldn't be upset---I am so happy that we are getting such fabulous snow this year.

Greg has been plowing for many days, keeping our driveways clear and those of several neighbors. We have snow to bank the cabins, snow to insulate the septic system, and snow to build up on the trails. Soon we will be grooming and then skiing. What an awesome start! I think it's going to be a great winter.

Hangin' with the Hornets

They're at it again, those pesky bald-faced hornets or yellow jackets, or whatever they are. Just two months ago, I wrote about them and their ability to build nests in inconvenient places. This time, the problem with it is less the proximity to people, but more the ability to effectively get rid of it in an efficient fashion. See what I mean?This nest of pests currently hangs from the lamp of a non-functional outside light. It was installed years ago, back in the day when we found those things useful. We eventually reached the point where we enjoyed the darkness more than the occasional convenience of a giant night light. That happened to coincide with the light deciding it didn't want to turn on anymore. Since we don't use the light, or that matter even think about it, we didn't notice the new residents until yesterday, when Paul happened to spot it.

This thing is about twenty feet off the ground. It appears to completely fill the space between the socket and the glass. That's one solid nest, and I'm afraid that the little apartments in this complex are totally and fully occupied. Those little neighbors must be the ones who have been visiting our table at pizza night, without a reservation, I might add. Last week, Greg found a nest about 100 yards back behind the bread oven, and I thought that it was the source of our newest visitors. Now I realize that they were a whole lot closer.

So far, they've been polite, not causing any trouble of the stinging nature. Still, I don't trust them. With the size of that hive, it's only a matter of time before someone gets a little miffed, and starts to cause problems. They didn't like me taking photos from afar, as I was. Heck, I'm not the paparazzi or anything, but they acted like I was trying to steal their secret building techniques.

This means the hive has to go, but the date and method are yet to be determined. We've learned that a can of hornet spray will reach up to twenty feet. But the idea of using a real powerful stream of water is under consideration. I'd hate to have the can falter or run out on us, mid-stream. That would be a lot of angry hornets to face.

Hmmmm....Now How Did That Happen?

When I drove to town yesterday, I noticed a lot of the underbrush was turning yellow and brown, in various stages. As I approached the last downhill run, the large and stately maples that lend their name to that area of the county were also beginning to sport the shades of change. As I often am wont to do, I asked myself how did we get here so fast? I guess that everything is on its usual schedule, but am I? In my mind, isn't it still mid-summer? That's what August does to me: life moves in to fast forward, and when I pick up my head to notice it, several days have flown by. But it's all good, because we are still here and kicking.

In the time since I last wrote, the weather continued on a most summery path. We had temps in the eighties, lots of sunshine, occasional rain. That's my idea of summer in abundance. For some in our household, it is more than they care to deal with, particularly if the humidity is high. But for me, I know how soon the change will come, so I try to lap up as much of it as I can. There are summers up here where I rarely change out of blue jeans. But this one, I was able to wear shorts a lot of the time, making use of that fabulous Hawaii wardrobe I'd invested in. What a delight to hear happy sounds coming from the beach area, for so many days in a row. How good to be gathering the fruits of the season while enjoying the summer sky. And what a delight to have evening campfires, with at least some stars. Unfortunately, the aurora borealis never made an appearance, but we are still keeping an eye out. Overall, it's been a great summer.

But on Sunday, sometime during the night, it began to change. The northwest wind rolled in, and with it came the cooler temps. Everyone is remarking on the switch from "dog days" to "fall is in the air". The crispness brightens our cheeks, for those up early enough to feel it. The days warm to the sixties (and soon back to the seventies), but we enjoy it knowing that the clock is ticking. The wind was our companion for two and a half days, and all of those nights. It finally settled to a dull roar, reminding me of my father using that phrase when we children were way too noisy for his weary ears. Now I understand.

The coolness is a relief, of course. From what I've been hearing, it's been almost beastly hot in many places. Folks coming up from parts south are happy to have the respite, able to sleep at night, and feel comfortable during the days. But after church on Sunday morning, I heard remarks about it feeling so abruptly cold. "If it were late winter, this would feel warm," said someone. Yet there we were in our long-sleeved shirts, sweatshirts, and for some of us, windbreakers, too. It's all relative. For now, I am happy that the wind has died, (there's not even a dull roar now!) and that the sunshine is bright and definitely warming. I'm not quite ready to let it all go. The treats of late summer are still out there waiting--the late-season flowers, the tang of woodsmoke in the air while the last of the marshmallows get roasted. But for those who live with me, I'm glad that they won't have to endure any more weather that's too hot.

The Lure of the Berries

Yes, it's yet another blueberry post....It is so interesting living with people who are totally and truly addicted to berry picking. It's funny to listen to their conversations:

"Where did you find those big berries?"

"I can't say. It was so-and-so's favorite spot that he/she shared with me."

"Do you duck when you are out there picking near the road?"

"Heck, yeah! I don't want people to see me! And I was wearing my camouflage clothing, too."

"I heard two people honk, but I didn't park my car where I was picking."

Everyone has their ways of picking not only the berries, but also their secret spots where "the best" berries grow. Funny thing is, sometimes the people discover that the folks they are talking to also pick in the same location, but at different times. They just keep missing each other.

The truth of the matter is that, almost anywhere you go right now, the berries are so fantastic that there are more than enough for everyone, critters included. It just depends on how far you want to walk, and how many berries you ultimately want to come away with.

Which brings us to another side of the coin, making room in the freezer. When the crop is so bountiful and the desire to pick so strong, the tendency is to just go and go and go. Each time the bucket comes back, it is totally full. What a beautiful sight! But what happens when we run out of freezer storage space? Used to be, we would make jam, but no one seems to eat that around here anymore. Pie and crisp are the two most requested blueberry treats. Berries stored in the freezer mean that one can enjoy the delights of summer all winter long. To these pickers, you can never have too many berries. I guess it may be something like what the ardent fishermen feel. As long as there is a lake with fish out there, or a patch full of ripe berries, you have to go harvest them! The big ones are all getting away, right now, even as I type.

How wonderful to have a year like this, when the crop is in its prime, plump and plentiful. Though I may have to sacrifice freezer space now (as in, I might be cooking a turkey this week, in order to make more room), that pie will taste extra special when it is 20 below zero.