Monthly Archives: October 2008

Perfect Morning

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It was a perfect morning.  Seriously.  I got up and out of the house to go on my first run in almost two months and I can’t imagine picking a finer day to do it.

I was out before the sun rose.  The sky was aglow with pre-dawn pink and blue.  It was cold enough that we had the hardest frost yet this fall, so everything was coated in a layer of white crystals.  The field is full of brown grass and no longer flowering flowers.  All of it was thickly covered in frost.  The fluffy milkweed seeds that had blown into the driveway sat still, glowing.  Every pebble was rimed.

With the tinted sky, white highlighting every surface, leaves still offering a display of orange and red and yellow, and the air windless, I was awestruck.  The cold air was clear and so was my head.  I ran into a perfectly picturesque world.

As I ran I saw the morning as a paradigm of the pastoral.  Hay bales sat scattered across the mowed fields.  Ravens perched in leafless trees, croaking out their series of four quick notes when I passed.  A harrier lifted from the pond hidden over the hill.  Corn stubble lined up in even rows on a distant hillside.  Maple leaves drifted down to the crumbling grave stones in the ancient cemetery.

This is why I live here.  This is why I run.  Not every morning is as beautiful as this one, but they all have beauty to offer.  I have run the same route many many times, but it has never looked like it did today.  In fact, I ran out and back, and on the way back, it looked different than on the way out.  Every moment the world is new.  Every moment we have the chance to find wonder.

Bats in the House

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My wife found a bat in the basement today.  It was pretty dead.  Dessicated, you might say.  My guess is that it hibernated over the winter, didn’t make it out, then fell from the floor joists where it had taken its nap.  Bummer.

This summer we had bats in the house a couple of times.  Once, I was putting my daughter to bed when a bat landed on the windowsill.  Luckily I was able to quickly wrap it in a blanket and take it outside before it freaked her out too much.  She was curious about it more than she was scared.  Phew.

The second time a bat was in our room as we went up to bed.  That one took a little longer to corner.  I finally got it into the bathroom but it was doing laps around my head.  Eventually it landed in the shower and I scooped it up in a blanket again.  Maybe it was the same bat.

Stupid bat.

I am hoping we don’t have any bats setting up shop in the basement for the winter right now.  How the heck would we find them?  Is there a bat expert we can contact who would know how to find bats in the basement?  A basement hibernating bat expert?

Our basement would be a great place for a bat to spend the winter.  It is dark and warm and gets hardly any visitors.  And there are plenty of cozy nooks in which to curl up and sleep.  Plus, the owners of the house wouldn’t be able to find a bat down there if they tried.

Who’s stupid now?

Coffee and Tea

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I was once a fanatical coffee drinker.  I worked in a cafe in Portland, Oregon, and we were allowed whatever coffee drinks we wanted.  I was a barista, so this was in part to get me to practice making and to taste a variety of choices.  That I did.  I would walk down from Northeast Salmon Street a couple of blocks to the Cup and Saucer, hang my jacket, wash my hands, and make something funky.

Maybe I would make something like a double tall hazelnut orange skim latte.  Or a single cappuccino with a blast of almond syrup.  Sometimes I would just have an espresso shot but I preferred the foamed milk.  Perfecting that was my raison d’etre while I worked the coffee bar.  I would often allow myself multiple drinks during my eight-hour shift.

I would get out in the afternoon and would meet some of the friends with whom I lived.  We would walk across the street and sit down to talk and drink coffee.  I had to pay for this so I usually just drank the regular stuff.  It was good coffee.  We would debate or talk philosophy and listen to KMHD (“all jazz, all the time”) for a couple of hours, all the while sipping the bean.

By the time I got married I still drank coffee on occasion but had overcome my seven cups a day phase.  We drank tea.  We drank tea when we went backpacking.  We drank tea when we went for a long ski.  We drank tea after dinner.  We had a whole kitchen drawer devoted to tea–Earl Gray, Lemon Zinger, even Salada for guests who preferred the mainstream stuff.

At one point I bought a coffee maker, one of those cheap ones with the glass carafe on a burner.  I would make coffee once in a while for myself.  My wife found it nasty so I tried to clean it up right away and most of the time only drank it when she wasn’t around.  Things have changed.

When it came time to replace the glass carafe the second time I spent the big bucks and got a maker with an insulated carafe.  It makes far better coffee.  Somewhere along the way my spouse started drinking Starbucks frozen coffee drinks.  Those were the gateway drugs.  Now she comes downstairs before I do to make the coffee.   She does not find it to be nasty anymore.

Lately, however, I have turned to tea again.  It feels like revisiting a friend I haven’t spent time with in a while.  After the children are asleep and the house is finally quiet, I can sit and read or write or watch some weird film and sip tea.  With just a dash of cream and solid dose of honey, it offers the perfect evening companion.

i still drink coffee in the morning.  Tomorrow is Saturday and I look forward to taking the time to steam up some espresso and to foam some milk and to make something fancy right in my kitchen.  But it will be a chilly day tomorrow.  At some point in the afternoon I will probably brew up some tea.  It will warm me, and I will look out at the fading colors of fall and I will feel just about right.

Waiting for the School Bus

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Every weekday morning my daughter heads out to wait for the school bus.  An adult needs to be with her and often that means me.  Often it means the whole family.  I love the ritual of walking down the driveway and waiting together.  It gives us a chance to be together and to start the day by being in the day.

It is easy to go from the house to the garage to the car to some other indoor space.  It would be easy to stay inside all day some days.  And this does happen, although I try to avoid it.  Our school bus ritual helps us begin the day in a good space.  We hear the geese flying overhead, we see the fog rising over the hills, and we feel the cool fall air.

Some days it rains.  Some days the sun shines.  Some days we do not need the umbrella we bring.  Every day starts with a fine morning.  I look forward to waiting in the falling snow or in the spring wind.  The walking and the waiting give me perspective and help me think clearly throughout the day.

Twice now, house guests have walked out and waited with us for the bus.  My daughter got quite the send-off.  She was pleased, grinning as she got on the bus.  It was wonderful.  Other days it is just me waiting with her, or waiting for her in the afternoon.  Those days are peaceful and full of joy.

Tomorrow I will be off early and will not be the one to wait with her.  I am sure I will have a good day, but it would be better with a little walk, some time together, and a few quiet moments waiting in the morning air.  The school year means my daughter spends less time with us, but it has offered these moments.  I will savor them as long as they are offered.

Pain But No Worries

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Tonight I got this pain in my upper back, between my shoulders. What is the scoop with that? I wasn’t lifting anything or straining myself or doing anything that might have caused an injury at that moment. I was walking toward the kitchen to cook up some beans for dinner. And pow! Sharp pain between the shoulders. It is sticking around.

Whenever I have any kind of injury, I reflect back to when I had back surgery. Two years ago I was dealing with some serious pain. I literally was rolling on the floor at night, unable to sleep. I went to a chiropractor and saw my primary care doctor but the pain stuck around. Ultimately, I had surgery for a ruptured disc. A neurosurgeon sliced me open and took about the bad juju.

All that was a drag, of course, but it happens. We get hurt sometimes and we can’t predict when it will happen and how badly it will happen. But here is the deal: I had no worries about paying for all the care I received. I have great a great health insurance. Even chiropractic care was paid for. I paid nothing for all of it.

I am lucky and I know it. How many people don’t have any health insurance? Forget the huge deductibles or problems that won’t be covered. What if I simply had no coverage at all? Given the medical issues I had, I would have had to pay thousands of dollars. I would still be paying for that without my health insurance.

I met a high school student today who got injured playing football. He is hobbling around on crutches, just as he was two weeks ago when I saw him last. He tore three ligaments and will need surgery. He doesn’t have it scheduled yet. He is unsure when it will happen. My guess is that he does not have health insurance even close to what I’ve got. Does he even have any? Is his surgery getting put off because he can’t afford it?

Vermont has pretty good coverage for minors. We have a state program to cover children whose parents do not have health insurance or can’t afford it. As a state, that is a smart thing to do. The legislature has talked for a while now about passing legislation that would cover everyone, regardless of age, who does not have access to coverage. I hope that may one day happen.

So, I have some pain that is slowing me down for the evening. Sure, that isn’t what I want. I am worried what it might be. Could it get worse? Could it be a sign of something really bad? I will not worry about those things until the pain persists. Otherwise, I won’t worry at all. That is a gift.

Pumpkins on the Railing and on the Table

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We have a dozen pumpkins on the railing of the deck.  These are the fruits, so to speak, of our gardening labor.  I have baked up a few of them so far, to use in muffins and soup.  I made two batches of muffins this past weekend.  One was great, the other flopped.

The flopped batch came from missing one ingredient.  It took me quite a while to realize what it was.  Then I remembered that I forgot the baking powder.  It is great to remember that I have forgotten something.  It is far better than to forget that I have remembered something.  The second batch was the progeny of the flop of the first batch.  I was excited to make these pumpkin apple muffins and then I ended up with these somewhat tasty but way too dense things.  The next batch was a winner.

I also made soup this weekend.  It was part of a simple meal:  fresh bread, fresh soup and apple pie.  The pie was a group effort (my mother and niece worked on that) so the meal was truly a family dinner.  The bread was pretty much dee-lish, if I may say that about my own honey oat perfectly risen perfectly baked warm buttery yeast creation.  And the soup was dang good as well.

My wife and I went out to dinner a few nights ago and had some squash soup that was really amazing.  It just folded into your tongue and wrapped around your taste buds in a teasing caress.  It was hard to get enough of that.  I though I might take some cues from that soup and, while I had no illusions that I would replicate it, try my own version.

My version was a pumpkin (duh!) soup, with cream and honey and cinnamon and sage.  It was creamy and smooth and sweet.  I made a lot but it was consumed, even by two young children and a teenager.  That was accolade enough for me.

There are still many pumpkins left.  I will bake and freeze a few and I will make more bread and more soup.  And maybe another batch of muffins.  We still have a bucketload of apples left as well.  Our oven won’t be idle for a while.

Foliage Blast

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This year the foliage is brighter than it has been in while. Falls seems to just slowly seep in and then suddenly, Bam! The leaves are orange and red and yellow. This year that happened and I was hit in the eyeballs. Just behind our house the leaves are on fire. Every time I drive toward the house I say wow. I come home that way on purpose.

Here is a view coming from the other direction, after the tractor parade yesterday:

Camel's Hump from Charlotte

Camel's Hump from Charlotte

Tractor Parade

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Today was the annual tractor parade in Charlotte.  We went last year and it was a festive and fun event, despite a cold wind and steady drizzle.  This year the weather was perfect and we had even more fun.  My parents were visiting so we had quite the crew there.

We had fresh cupcakes and french fries but passed over the hamburgers and cider doughnuts.  We did check out the miniature horses, the sheep, the rabbits and the two-month old calves.  We didn’t stick around the play any games but we did see quite a few neighbors and friends.  It was a good time.

Whatever the weather, we won’t miss it on purpose next year.

Small Tractors

Big Tractors

Big Tractor

Red Tractors

Red Tractor

Blue Tractors

Blue Tractor

Old Tractors (Rode the ferry from New York no less)

Old Tractor (Rode the ferry from New York no less)

New (kid on a) Tractor

New (kid on a) Tractor

No Geese

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My wife and I took a trip down to Addison today to see the geese.  We have gone down there for the past 14 years to see them.  Dead Creek Wildlife Management Area is a stop for thousands of migrating waterfoul and often this time of year the fields and the sky are filled with birds.  But no dice today.

Sometimes when we drive near the parking/viewing area we can see the birds from miles away.  Sometimes we can hear them long before we get there.  Today it looked like we would get little viewing for our efforts.  There have been years when the snow geese are lined up against the fence, rising and landing in groups among the larger flock.  Today there seemed to be just a few small groups in the far distance.  A few would rise and settle again, but we could see only a couple dozen against the tall grass.

If we were quiet enough we could hear them honking.  A couple flocks of ducks fluttered in.  We sat and listened and watched and talked quietly about the beauty of the place and the times we had visited in the past.  We talked about why the birds might gather some times and not others when we have visited on the same weekend every year.  Does it have to do with high or low pressure in the atmosphere?  Does air temperature affect when they fly?  Is climate change a factor?  We had no answers.

We may visit again in the next week or two, take the kids down to see if we have better luck.  Perhaps, however, we will wait until next year.  We like to see them, but we are in no rush.  I know they will come back.  So we will too.

Pumpkins and Sunrise

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Right around the equinox the sun rises over Camel’s Hump.  That is about the same time we harvest the pumpkins.  By the end of September we are getting frost so by early October we want to have the pumpkins off the vine.  We have a handful of pumpkins on the table, a few on the kitchen counter, and some on the deck railing.

The orange fits in nicely with the orange spreading over the hills.  In the next couple of days I will pull the last of our carrots from the ground.  More orange.  I planted lots of carrots this summer but much of the early planting turned to mush with all the rain.  The second planting did great but we ate it rather than saved it for the short days.  We’ll have to eat pumpkin.

Tomorrow morning I will make pumpkin muffins. At the moment I wait up for my parents, visiting for the weekend and arriving late.  I will probably start the muffins after the sun has risen.  By now, it rises south of Camel’s Hump.  It rose about 7:15 this morning.  Once the sun does make it over the mountains, it floods the house with light.  And warmth.  If there are no clouds, the house warms quickly.

While I grow wearier and wearier, hours into the dark part of the day, an IPA under my belt and a long day behind me, I question whether I should just hit the hay.  They advised I not wait up, and the rest of the household has left for dreamland already.  I wouldn’t mind making muffins and watching the sun rise at the same time, so maybe I will dive into the snooze box after all.

I will leave a note, perhaps, to be at least minimally polite, and suggest they wait to eat any of the pumpkins.  At least until I can cook them into muffins.