Frost Warning and St. John's wort

There's a frost advisory for tonight, a serious one.

So that means I went out to the garden to pick all the produce I could.  I found green beans, which I had for supper, zucchini, and okra which I will freeze.  My yard is more protected than most yet I can't be sure. I'll harvest the onions, oregano and kohlrabi tomorrow.

I brought in potted flowers and hanging house plants.  I decided I had kept the asparagus ferns three years ago and that was long enough.  They will freeze tonight most likely but the spider plants, the Boston fern and the mother's-in-law tongue are safe inside.

More upsetting than the frost are the feeling of sadness about the end of summer.  I finally pulled St. John's wort and vitamin D3 out of the medicine cabinet and took them for the first time since April. I don't expect to take many until after Christmas, then through January, February and March, but this week's cold, rainy and gray days brought in the blues.

This afternoon, I went down to Sissy's and had some chocolate cheesecake, talked some politics, and felt much, much better.

Chocolate is the cure for almost anything.

Transitions

Tomorrow is the autumn equinox. This last day of summer has been rainy and cold and we may even have snow tonight. I went out with a basket and picked every vegetable in the garden, even the almost ripe tomatoes, now resting on a windowsill in the kitchen.  

I came home from Lake Ottawa late yesterday after several rainy days. Gary is still there expecting a very cold night indeed though the temperatures will get higher over the weekend.  

I feel that I never really had the summer I wanted.  I usually spend hours in the June, July and August sun, soaking up the Vitamin D I'll need through the winter. This year those were months of heat and drought in Wisconsin.  We don't like to overuse our two air conditioners, so unless the temperatures were over 90 during the day, we left them off.  Instead, we closed off the house during the day and opened the windows at night. I usually went for walks at sunset or after dark when it was cooler.   

With the blinds drawn during the day, the house was dark. I found myself experiencing a seasonal affective disorder (SAD) similar to what I suffer during January and February. 

There still will be time to soak in the sun in October, but the tan I acquired in June is fading.  

This last day of summer seems to be a transitional day. This morning, a friend's mother died. Norma and I have been friends for over fifty years, so I will be there, helping her to say good-bye. There are the things that only her daughters can do.  As Emily Dickinson wrote 

The bustle in a house

The morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth, - 
The sweeping up the heart,And putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity.

My job is to listen, to lend a hand.  

It is also a beginning, as Wade and I prepare to present our e-book to the world some time in the next day or two and a paperback the week after that.  How will that change our lives?  Perhaps not much at all, but you never know. 

Transitions. 

*********

Bettyann Moore's third Porpoise McAllister story is at Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com  In this one he is boy discovering there is a difference between girls and boys.      

Happy Anniversary!

One year ago today, Wade Peterson and I decided to set up a short story blog, Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

When I was a kid, every magazine (and in those days there were lots of them) had at least one short story. My family waited for the Saturday Evening Post each month because there would be three or four or even more of those stories.  I still remember some of the better ones.  

Perhaps the last of the national magazines that were serious about short stories was Redbook, which even had yearly contests looking for the best.

Those days are past.  Nowadays short stories only appear in college publications, literary magazines or art books, some of them on line.  One of my stories was in Mobius a couple of years ago, but for no pay which is standard.  Some pay in copies of the magazines.  Very few offer small stipends.

I don't mind rejections, any writer must expect them, but being rejected by a publisher that wasn't going to pay me in the first place, that was too much. We decided to start the blog.

Because Wade and I publish our own stories, we bypass editors and publishers.  We critique and edit each other's work.  Once we're done, we can easily get our work to our readers within a day or two. We make a point of being punctual about publishing at 4:00 pm each Friday. That means each of us has to write a piece every other week. It gives us what we need most, deadlines that force us to write.

Now Bettyann Moore has joined us, which makes it much easier since we write every three weeks instead of every two. This gives us more time to work on our other projects.  

Since we began Black Coffee Fiction, we've posted 53 stories.  With that much to choose from, Wade and I  selected what we considered the best.  Black Coffee Fiction, Volume I will be published as an e-book by next week and a few days after that as a paper book.

Today, we celebrate.  One year!  We did it!

Shocking Event

Today, a post from a guest, Gary.  He mostly got it right though he exaggerated the snoring...maybe.  I didn't know anything about the mouse until I woke up this morning to find everything strewn about.

Colleen

About 10:45 last night, whilst I was seeking to become the world’s greatest computer solitaire ace, Colleen called me from her snug bunk in the north end of the trailer, “I hear voices out there. Is somebody moving in?”

 

I wandered to that end of the trailer and cast my shell-like little ears about. Sure enough, voices.

Poked my head out the door and ,“Behold, bright lights along the shore to da nort’!” AND they were moving. SPACECRAFT!?

 

A moment’s cogitation yielded the conclusion that it was a Michigan Department of Natural Resources shocking crew headed south sticking about 50 feet from shore where the depth averages about 12 feet.

Headed down towards our little beach and soon I could hear the clicks as the generator discharged.They were apparently surveying walleye and there must have been a scoop net at the rear of the rig. I was standing on the shore as they went by but it was blacker than the inside of a cow and the six car headlights on the front were so bright that it was hard to discern any details. They passed on down the shoreline and silence once more descended upon us.

 

Here is the website for MDNR electrofishing surveys.

http://www.michigandnr.com/fishstock/

 

About 2:30 I woke to the sound of a nocturnal gnawer.  “Shit, a mouse is eating the trailer wiring and the trailer will burn up!”

Colleen was blissfully  and lustily snoring so I found it rather difficult to track the little bastard down. (I expected to see a moose or two outside, looking about expectantly.) Soooo, I just started pulling stuff out of the usual places,i.e., storage spaces near the floor. A cessation of gnawing sounds sent me back to bed. (Colleen had not been disturbed.)

Ten minutes later, he was back at it! Cleaned out rest of likely spaces, shone light into crannies and thumped about.

Back to bed. Blessed silence, except for Colleen, of course.

Just getting comfy when a couple of coyotes began to serenade me from across the lake . . .they didn’t last long though.  Finally got to sleep.

 

Life in the fast lane.

Apple Blossom Trail

We've been camping here at Lake Ottawa for about five years now and I've done some awesome trails hereabouts, yet somehow we missed the Apple Blossom Trail until today.It could be because it runs through Iron River, Michigan and when we go there it's to shop for necessities at one of the two grocery stores, eat out, or get ice cream, not take a long walk.

It rained last yesterday and last night, so one of my favorite hikes to Bennan Lake would be too muddy, so Gary thought of the Apple Blossom, which is mostly boardwalk or paved.  We drove to Iron River, got sandwiches from Subway, parked the van, and we were on our way.

We went down the boardwalk with the city on either side of us and under the bridge under Highway 2.

This brought us next to the RV park, still filled with big campers, but from then on we were in wilder country. 

The Apple Blossom is only two miles long from the trail head in Iron River to the City of Caspian.  Not a long hike but the weather was still uncertain.  We didn't figure on doing the entire four mile round trip and we didn't.  We almost immediately met two moms pushing strollers, one with a little boy who did his best to climb out.  They had come from Caspian as they did almost any day in decent weather.   

We exchanged greetings and kept going.  Mallards swam in the swampy areas beside Iron River.  A Frisbee golf course is at least a mile long with some tricky shots made more difficult because of the ponds and forest.

We crossed the river on a recently built bridge and paused a while to admire the view and eat our sandwiches. 

We came to tall pillars that Gary tried to convince me were old Roman aqueducts.

"You never knew the Romans were here?"  But of course they were remnants of the railroad lines that ran between Caspian and Iron River. In fact we were walking on the path once trod by the miners who walked to the mines.  

The clouds starting throwing raindrops at us and the stroller moms came hurrying back up the trail.  We turned around and had just gotten to the bridge when the rain turned to hail, small bits of ice but they stung our faces.  We scurried to the RV park and the Chamber of Commerce office.  

The manager greeted us.  He used to run a real estate agency but now he was the head of the Chamber.  He told us that Iron County lost 3,000 of its population in the last ten years and the population wasn't that big to begin with.  No wonder we see so many properties for sale.  

He gave us maps and information about the area trails, including the Ge-Che Trail that runs out of our campground.  I've tried to hike it before but without a map it was far too confusing.  Much of it was overgrown when I tried it last time and I almost found myself lost.  It runs from Covenant Point on Lake Hagerman through forest and swamp for almost eight miles. I may try it again next year.  

If we get another good day this fall, we'll be on the Apple Blossom Trail again but start from the Caspian end.

Rain

I found the Nu Rock nursing home/assisted living facility off Highway H in the town of Blackwell.  I seldom see nursing homes so far off the beaten track and was fascinated by this place in the forest. It was originally the woodland retreat of a lumber baron, built in the 1920s. I'm told the ballroom still exists on the second floor of the main part of the complex.  In the 1950s another family bought the place and began taking care of elderly residents.  Since then it's been expanded seven times to add a hospice, an Alzheimer unit, and a craft area but the arches between rooms, the hardwood floors and five fireplaces of the original structure are still there. There are fenced in areas so the Alzheimer patients can wander around outside and get fresh air without fear of getting lost in the forest.

I had fun with my audience who sang along with gusto and listened to the stories with only the occasional "Oh, my" and laughter to punctuate the best lines.  I expect I will be coming back.

Now, cold rain is falling on the Lake Ottawa campground, but Gary and I are snug inside the camper.  Though I love tent camping, a camper is a blessing when icy winds blow. The long drives from Seymour usually leave me enervated. I arrived damp and soon crawled into bed for a nap.We're now using fleece sheets and extra blankets in the beds.

I woke up to the sound of geese. The waterfowl are flocking together getting ready for their big migration. There are ten mergansers on the lake, youngsters who fledged this summer.  Gary rummaged around getting supper ready. I brought three containers of my homemade soup, perfect on this cold night. It warmed my innards and now I am sleepy again.

With rain forecast through most of the week, I will mostly be on the couch with my feet up reading my Nook. I have a Terry Pratchett novel, a mystery and a non-fiction account of life in Iraq to finish up.

Tomorrow we'll be at the St.Vincent de Paul thrift shop in Iron River.  Gary tells me they are having a dollar a bag clearance which is nice but I think I have enough stuff already. We'll see.

Now it's hot chocolate and soon bed.

Let it rain.

Next...

Tomorrow afternoon, I'll be telling stories at a Laona nursing home some two and a half hours north of here. Afterwards, I'll drive another hour to meet Gary at Lake Ottawa near Iron River, Michigan.  

It's getting cold in the northern forests, so Gary wants me to bring some of my vegetable soup for hot lunches.  Today, it was back out to the garden to pick tomatoes, zucchini, okra, onions, green beans and oregano.  Everything else I needed I found in the freezer, refrigerator or pantry. By 9:00 a.m. the soup was simmering and tonight I froze it up. That's five batches of soup I've made so far this season. Each batch makes about six quarts, so that's a lot of soup, all frozen into individual containers.  

The forecast is for rainy cold days so that soup is just what we require. 

When I get back on Thursday, there will be even more tomatoes.  I think I'll start making spaghetti sauce and salsa, too. 

My friend's mother continues to get weaker.  Should her days finally come to an end, I will have to  return from the campground to play the piano at the funeral service. 

While I am at the campground, I'll be working on the computer to get the publicity ready for the e-book Wade and I will publish this week and get started on my next short story. 

There is always something happening.  I wonder what will come up next?