Conversion

Backyard hill garden being transformed into a patch of berry bushes.  

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What was an unappealing eyesore of perennials, herbs, and weeds is being transformed into a patch of berry bushes. Began digging in the a.m. but gave up due to high humidity and intense sun (in spite of a nice northerly breeze). Finished up once the sun was over the yardarm. Pulled out a barrow full of roots. 

Also today, we applied for new passports (an expensive pain), and voted.

Voting was scary. I saw the Trump/Pense bubble right above the Clinton/Kaine bubble and I worried the ink might splash up. I checked the bubbles, and then rechecked them, and I am sure I voted properly.

Having voted early, do you think I might be able to vote a few more times? I am one of "those people."

This Is Not October

Warm and horribly humid.  

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Above, Emerson esker, named after a Norwegian immigrant who built a log cabin on it in the 1850s, cleared the land and wrested a living from it, had four children, got caught up in the Civil War, and died in its last days, sometime in 1864. (An esker is a winding ridge of gravel deposited by glacial meltwater.)

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Here's the Emerson cabin, built of larch logs. (Note: the eavestrough is a modern addition.)

Heavy deluge last night. Farm fields flooded, making the corn harvest a sticky business. Today, warm, still, and, as I said, incredibly humid. We actually had to run the air conditioner, here in the last half of October.

Busy Barns

It was busy but still fun.  

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And belated happy birthday to Bri.  (Note: In this shot Maddie has not fully recovered from an earlier hot-chocolate.)

And belated happy birthday to Bri.  (Note: In this shot Maddie has not fully recovered from an earlier hot-chocolate.)

Mimi made the traditional roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy dinner, with apple pie—well appreciated by everyone.

Warm and highly humid day, sauna-like.

Frost?

Perhaps.  

Duckweed floating down WW creek.

Duckweed floating down WW creek.

Locust leaves falling on the ground.

Locust leaves falling on the ground.

Patches of frost were sighted in Starin Park this morning, but the resident rosemary, under the redbud on the back patio, felt no ill effects.

The average annual frost date for this part of Wisconsin is October 15, so we are pretty much on schedule. And when or if the thermometer reaches 70 degrees after a frost, it's Indian summer. There is almost nothing nicer than Indian summer.

All In A Row

Abby, Katy, and Will here for some fun and frolic enroute to  the apartment in Milwaukee where they will be camping out for about a week while the floors in their house are redone. Pumpkin patch and bike rides rained out, but pingpong filled in admirably. For a bit Abby and I went exploring at the Fuzzy Pig (one of the oddest stores in Wisconsin) while Mimi played with Katester and William, Uno on one hand and checkers on the other.

Sometime later, during a break in the rain, Ab and Kate roamed through the remnant garden and discovered three more squash and nine gnarled gourds. 

Say this one fast:
"Nine gnarled gourds aren't nearly enough."

Big cold front. We gave the furnace a brief test-run (just to ward off the damp).

 

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This Side of Paradise

(sorry F. Scott). But if you like sailing and swimming; silence and seclusion; wind, waves, and weather; birds, bears, and bats; frogs, friends, and family; this particular place comes pretty close to perfection.

And now, the days here are numbered. In fact, you could count them on one finger. 

Lagoon full of tadpoles. Since Florida is not an option, I suggest digging deep in the mud, pretty soon. 

Lagoon full of tadpoles. Since Florida is not an option, I suggest digging deep in the mud, pretty soon. 

A substantial stone that hasn't rolled for about 10,000 years.  

A substantial stone that hasn't rolled for about 10,000 years.  

Pinebox Mobile Unit heading for the highway,  and points south.  

Pinebox Mobile Unit heading for the highway,  and points south.  

Road work. There will be no washouts next spring.  

Road work. There will be no washouts next spring.  

More roadwork. How I love a shovel, let me count the ways.  

More roadwork. How I love a shovel, let me count the ways.  

Bye-bye, big bay.  

Bye-bye, big bay.  

Chilly today. Down into the 30s tonight. Yes, it seems to be time to either dig into the mud or head south.  

Thanks to Sue for some of the photos.  

There's a Certain Slant of Light...

...autumn afternoons (sorry, Emily).  

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Wild west wind. Scattered clouds racing across the blue sky, dropping occasional scatters of rain.

Road work--clearing and deepening the up-slope ditch.

(Just had to move inside to avoid a sudden downpour.)  

Pinebox shut down today, and this house about 87% done.

T.S. Eliot says April is the cruelest month, but, much as I love October, sometimes I think it is.  

Cleared the stove of ashes earlier--now time to light it up. Chilly!

Change of Season

Another warm front last night bringing substantial rain but no cooling. Another front this evening, but this time, almost certainly, a cold one. 

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And, almost certainly, the last 70 degree day until next summer.  

Today: log splitting and woodshed replenishment, small engine winterizing, porch plastic-wrapping. As with all wildlife, preparation is key.