13. A Lotta Big Trees

July 22, 2012June 12, 2017 / Apple Hill Cottage / 1 Comment

We have five very tall trees around the cottage. By very tall I mean 50 feet or more. One of them, a sycamore, is about 5 feet from the front porch. WAY too close! If it fell, that tree would do serious damage.

When the house insurance guy came to survey the house, his first comment was, “Uh, you’ve got a lotta big trees here.”

The sycamore is a lovely tree, don’t misunderstand me, but it is a litterbug extraordinaire. Little twigs, pieces of bark, big dried leaves, and stickery sycamore pods all litter the front yard and porch in all seasons. I think cleaning up after it will get old fast.

The prettiest (and furthest away from the house) is the catalpa. The bees were thick around it when it bloomed in mid-June. (Has anyone heard of catalpa honey?) Now in mid-July its long green bean-like seed pods are just starting to grow. The catalpa’s circumference is eleven feet around. When the furnace guy was here last fall, he spent some time admiring it. “You just usually don’t see catalpas that are that big,” he told us. It turns out he is a chain saw wood carver and catalpa wood is his favorite wood to use for his hobby. Near the catalpa is the original well for the house. There used to be a tall hand pump on the well and I remember Aunt Mary showing me how to get water from it. It’s well down on the priority list, but we’d both like to find another old hand pump for it.

The large maple on the other side of the house is at the top of the slope going to the back yard. Its limbs stretch out over the roof of the garage bedroom. We’ve contemplated taking it down to put a real garage there. Of all the trees, it is most likely to fall down the hill and spare the house. But it still has some mighty big limbs over the roof.

The oak tree next to it could have been the stateliest tree in the yard, but it had the bad fate to be too close to the electric wires. The electric company has done their pruning on it, and it will never be the beautiful oak it should be. (That is, the entire middle of the tree is gone!) It does have one lovely horizontal limb though, which is perfect for a swing… Olivia and Olivier love it, and so do we!

The maple tree in the middle of the gazebo has its own special history. It was a big tree when I was a little girl. The tree is close to the road and provided the perfect shade for bushels of apples for sale. Pa built a hexagonal set of bleachers for the apples around the tree, then roof joists were nailed to the tree about twelve feet up. People just pulled into the yard to buy apples, and Aunt Mary would hurry out of her country kitchen in her full apron to take their money and help pour the apples into sacks. The biggest and best apples were on the top bleachers. We would run up and down the levels and around through the baskets. Pa hardly ever yelled at us. He was the only one who had nicknames for us — we were Cee, Dee, and Fancy. The most he ever said to correct me was, “Now Cee…”

Joe and Clara enclosed it in the seventies and called it the Gazebo. I think it must have stunted the tree’s growth, because what was a big tree fifty years ago, is still just a big tree. It is locally famous though. When we tell people where we live, they say, “Oh, is that the place with the tree growing out of the garage?” Makes it difficult to park cars inside…

The roof and joists need repairing; if anyone has any great ideas for a building with a giant tree in the middle, don’t keep it to yourself!

I love these tall trees — they give us shade, keep us cool, bring the birds and their songs — but I gotta say that the winds on this ridge make me nervous…

12. On Kitties and Raccoons

July 18, 2012October 20, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 2 Comments

After I spent 9 days here over the two weeks around the 4th of July, the kitty and I had settled right in. So before leaving last weekend, we went to one of those big box pet stores and got a timed cat feeder. The battery operated electronic model with bells and whistles is $100. We didn’t get that one. We bought a perfectly serviceable gravity model for $19.95. We filled it (almost a whole bag of food) and the kitty was happily trying it out on the back porch as we left.

We anxiously wondered if he had eaten all the food when we arrived next Saturday morning. A quick look at the scene left us wondering some more. The feeder was broken apart, on its side in two pieces, and licked clean.

We waited for the kitty to return and explain. Somehow it didn’t seem like our sweetheart of a kitty would do violence to his food bowl.

He never showed up, so we had to make do with our neighbor, Betty, who has joint custody of the kitty. She knew right away. “Raccoons,” she said ominously. “They’re mean! Clara always had trouble with them. She had one in the house once.” We nodded; we’d heard that story. They would come right in her kitty door. Betty’s husband, Chuck, once brought a ball bat over to rid the house of a raccoon. “Don’t kill it,” Clara told him, “It will get blood all over the carpet.” He got it safely out with no blood spilled.

So that evening we baited the feeder and put it right outside the sliding glass door that goes out to the back deck — just feet from our bed. Around 4 AM we were awakened by a raccoon rolling the feeder all around the porch. I’m sorry to say it was too dark for pictures; however, we did get this picture as evidence the next day.

Mr. Kitty, George, Elmo, Phineas, or whatever his name is, didn’t show up until late Monday morning as we were packing up to leave. His face was swollen on the left side, as if he had been in a cat fight and lost. Change of plans… We found a vet who could see him later that day.

It’s always an adventure to take a kitty in the car. The last two times we’ve tried taking him it has been a smelly Disaster (notice the capital D!). Both times we were good, responsible parents and put him in the kitty carrier. Both times he thought it was his litter box. THIS time we were wary. Michael insisted we not use the carrier and just hold him. It was tough getting a volunteer for this job; memories of the last two times were still fresh. It was pretty quiet while we waited for someone to raise their hand. Michael finally volunteered for the dirty job — he always does!

Michael was armed and prepared though. He covered the seats in blankets and tarps; he had a roll of paper towels, wet wipes, a pillow, three towels, Spray’n’Wash, 409, Windex, latex gloves, and air freshener. All unnecessary — Mr. Kitty was Mr. Perfectly Behaved in Michael’s arms. He was so well-behaved we left him overnight for his neuter job. We’re hoping this will keep him from carousing around and fighting. And prevent any more needless trips to the vet…
Note: Michael objects to the previous paragraph on the grounds that I exaggerated and made him look like a nerd. I confess to stretching the truth for a good story — he didn’t have any 409. (He says he didn’t use any tarps either…)

When we picked the kitty up this afternoon, his face looked like raw hamburger. Everyone there agreed that it was another cat who had won, and they had probably been fighting over a girl. Hah! No more of that; he is now a catstrato! But we wonder if he tangled with a raccoon over food…

We brought him home catastrophe-free, gave him some food, petted him, and we all took a nap.

It was the hood of shame that did him in. The vet told us not to let him lick his wounds, and, of course, he did. So Michael put the hoodie around his neck (I told you he always does the dirty jobs.) Mr. Kitty was appalled. He escaped with it still on his neck and streaked across the road faster than white lightning, a speeding bullet, or a bat out of you know where… with Michael running after. It wasn’t funny.

Michael came home soon with the hoodie and no kitty. We sat glumly around outside in the heat thinking of a lost, sick kitty in the woods and $300 down the tubes.

We alerted Betty to keep a watchful eye out. She was upbeat. “Oh, he’ll come here when he gets hungry,” she said confidently. A few hours later we heard her shouting and waving. Sure enough, he was lying on her top step. She fed him and loved him up, and I brought him back over here to cottage confinement. We promised to throw away the hood of shame, and he has been sleeping comfortably for the last few hours.

Michael looked at him a few minutes ago and said, “Poor little fella. He’s had a rough couple of days.” Yes. So have we.

Addendum — Next day : Kitty woke me up at 4 am staring out the sliding glass doors and growling like a dog! There were two raccoons on the porch, a mama and a young’un. Now we’re even more convinced that is who he tangled with. Glad he was on the inside looking out.

5. There were sure to be foxes in the woods…

June 19, 2012December 15, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 8 Comments

It was a slow week at Apple Hill as far as actual work goes.

I’m still sanding (but I’m on the LAST cabinet!) and Michael was spinning his wheels this weekend too–he needed a specific measurement from our stove in Pittsburgh that we are moving to the kitchen at Apple Hill. Gotta have a gas stove and the one here is electric, so we are switching them. But the stove was there, and we were here.

And Sunday was Father’s Day–there’s no working then! So the work goes in fits and starts just like life. We both have to keep remembering to enjoy the moment and not worry about a timeline, plans, our agendas. It’s easier said than done. So far, when one of us gets in a funk about it, the other one can do the reminding. And when that doesn’t work, Jesus Calling always does the trick. I have to quote Sarah Young here: “Learn to laugh at yourself more freely. Don’t take yourself or your circumstances so seriously. Relax and know that I am ‘God with you’…Laughter lightens your load and lifts your heart into heavenly places. Your laughter rises to heaven and blends with angelic melodies of praise. Do not miss the Joy of My Presence by carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders…” This week I read it out loud to Michael because we both needed to hear it.

So this week, we have a CONTEST: The first one to post where the title of this blog comes from (There were sure to be foxes in the woods or turtles in the water…) gets a… gets ahhhh…. gets uhmmmm…..

a free all-expenses paid vacation to Apple Hill Cottage????

No, I don’t think everyone would like that, especially after reading the rest of this post! I think I have to add a Caution here: This post is about critters and it’s not for the faint of heart, the bug-a-phobe, or the die-hard city slicker. I’ll start off with the cute little furry critters and then it will go downhill from there, so the reader will be able to tell when to stop reading…

Cats and Kittens

He is the friendliest, most mellow kitty we’ve ever met. This picture was taken about 5 minutes after we were first introduced.

Our kitty got a name this weekend courtesy of granddaughter Olivia (Joce, Pedro and the kids celebrated Father’s Day with us with grilled hamburgers and a day of fun in the country.) We haven’t committed to the name yet, but we both kind of like it. As Michael says, we have to do some research on it. She suggested Phineas, and I added a T, so we’ve got Phineas T. Her Phineas is from the kids tv show Phineas and Ferb. I added the T for Phineas T. Fogg, an adventurer who goes Around the World in 80 Days. It’s a Jules Verne classic, which I now have to admit to never reading. (Ouch!) Of course, it could also be for Phineas T. Barnum, but he was a known swindler… We have already spent quite a bit of money on Phineas T., this part-time cat (well, he’s really a full-time cat–he’s only ours part-time) but I think we’ve both felt that naming him was a big commitment. A name signifies ownership for sure, instead of just feeding him and enjoying him when he shows up (or when we show up…)

We’ve got a big dinner bell on the porch that we ring when we get here, so he knows we’re home and he can come and get it. Michael suggested an electronic kitty feeder???? Footnote: Amazon says I can get Around the World in 80 Days and read it for free on the Kindle; but the reviewers all call the main character Phileas Fogg. This is most disturbing–I was sure it was Phineas–and this is why Michael said we had to research it…

Foxes in the Woods

These long nights in June are so wonderful, although on at least one occasion I have bemoaned the fact that I was so tired, I couldn’t even sit on the porch and enjoy them. On Saturday evening though, we ate late and were still sitting at the table at twilight enjoying the fireflies and the birdsongs, when a small red fox came out of the wood’s edge and sauntered along the tree line right in front of us. I mean 20 feet away! We didn’t get a picture of him; I quietly opened the door and grabbed the binoculars, but our phones weren’t handy. We are really hoping he returns, and I’ve been trying to keep my phone within easy reach.

Moles

Oh, the devastation!

Yep, we have ’em. They make terrible pesty divots in our otherwise perfectly manicured lawn. Michael has purchased Mole-Away sticks, but then the moles just move away a short distance and another part of the yard is dug up!

He also tried drowning them out of their holes with the hose. We’ve been watering our precious new fruit trees every day we are here. Michael was walking by a mole hole, carrying the hose, and just thought he’d try it. It didn’t seem to work, BUT he did discover a new technique for getting rid of them with a hose! A few days later he was moving the hose so he could mow the yard. While standing under one of the older apple trees and investigating one of the holes, a mole popped up. Michael had nothing in his hand but the hose, so he bopped that mole with the hose nozzle. Got him! Broke the hose nozzle, but score Michael 1, Mole 0. (Think Whack-a-mole–you can play it here: http://www.addictinggames.com/action-games/whackamole.jsp)

We had lunch the next day with Diane and Jim at the Panera in Washington and as Michael was telling the story we were all laughing so hard we were snorting Iced Tea out our noses. People were staring. You know, readers, we’re supposed to have a good belly laugh at least five times a day. As Joce said the other day, “I’m way behind!”

Wasps

There’s one in every corner of the porch!

Yep, we have these too. IN ABUNDANCE! They seem to have an affinity for my cabinet-sanding workshop. In fairness to them, they were there first. In fact, they have been able to be there, undisturbed, for probably at least five years or so. But the newcomer wins out here–the wasps have to go.

I know that we are supposed to be green and all that; I know that all insects have a purpose; but I draw the line at a wasp dive bombing me while I’m sanding cabinets. The sander is very loud, so I can’t hear the wasp’s warning whine. I have on my safety glasses and they are steamed up because I’m also wearing a breathing mask, so I can’t see it very well either until it buzzes my head. Nope, the wasps have to go… Luckily, Michael has in his bag of “ungreen” materials–Wasp Killer! (There’s poison ivy killer in that bag, too.) He pointed at the nest, sprayed the foam, and the wasp fell down dead with a thunk in three seconds. Part of the nest fell down too. Score Michael 1, Wasps 0.

Inch long brown worms

Not the greatest shot, but I didn’t want to get too close!

Well, I don’t really know what they are. But they are IN THE HOUSE. In the bathroom; in the basement. We’ve only just started finding them this past weekend. There were three in the bathroom (on the ceiling!) Michael said he found a whole parade of them in the basement going from the hot water heater to the (unused) shower. Michael’s vote was for millipedes, and millipedes do like water/wet/damp, which is where we seem to be finding them. It seems too fuzzy to be a millipede, though. They curl up into a ball when you try to scoop them up or step on them. Inchworms are brown also, as well as green, but these don’t exactly hump up like inchworms do when they are moving. Ugh, they are disgusting.

Bugs too odious to call by name

This is the most horrible to admit. Ron found the first one in April, so we can blame him, at least for the discovery. I don’t think I would have known what they were, if he hadn’t pointed it out and looked disgusted. (Thanks Ron!) Since then, we’ve been very careful about food, and garbage, but taking out the walls of the kitchen seems to have disturbed them. I wouldn’t say we’re infested–we didn’t see any last week, but this week I saw one in the kitchen sink. Neither one of us can actually call them by name–we just call them “those bugs”… No pictures of these either, you’ll be glad to know. We are just hoping that covering holes, tightening up walls, and putting in new floors, ceilings, and cabinets will get rid of them. Otherwise, we’ll just have to send Michael out to buy Roach Killer. (Read Gregor the Overlander by Suzanne Collins–her “other” series–for a great cockroach main character!)

So now, don’t you all want to come and visit? Put your finger on the comment button and tell me where this lovely title came from! And the winner is….