The gourds finally began to grow, a surprise, probably left over from last year’s Big Ugly Fiasco…
By August 12th the vines were covering the left side and sprawling fast. White blossoms began popping out all over.
Sept. 5th…
Sept. 5th
Sept. 12th
Sept. 21
Sept. 26th.
Sept. 21st…
It took a week to weigh down the basket. Sept. 26th
I
Last Friday…
Maybe two weeks before first frost?
What the neighbors must think…It’s pouring down rain and there I am, wearing my dad’s old foul weather gear and…
stalking wild bear poop…
At least, it sure looked like huge, wild animal poop.
Believe it or not- it was only a hard, stubby mushroom.
We go on without you… 
We remember the good times….
The wise and wonderful things you taught us…
But it isn’t the same.
We miss you swell, Dad.
Another lovely weekend in paradise. The rain held off until I’d painted the porches…
Some time after midnight it poured and I’m afraid there may be a price to pay. Little bubbles had formed beneath the new paint along the edges of the porch. Oh, well…live and learn. Painting’s good exercise for the brain. You can do a good bit of thinking while the brush moves back and forth, back and forth.
I’d just finished putting the rockers back in place when the Moonshiner showed up bearing a white plastic sack full of food from his granddaughter’s birthday party.
“There’s cake in there, too,” he said, nodding at the bag. “All she wanted was a John Deere tractor cake.” He beamed, ever the proud grandpa.
“Which birthday is this?” I asked.
“Second.”
Precocious child. Already knows her tractor brands.
Maggie and I do like our morning walks.
This weekend it was evident Summer is on the wane. The grass is crisp and crunches beneath our feet. The tops of the trees are already beginning to glow red and orange.
Whatever.
Change is coming, that’s for sure.
But the trellis and the Big Ugly aren’t about to give up the ghost…
Okay, I know what these are. They’re growing beautifully in a pot alongside the cabin’s front door.
But no one knows what the next two plants are. There aren’t any more in the holler. The old folks took them into town and asked more folks and even the neighbor’s 95 year old woman couldn’t identify these.
Or this vine clambering up over the old gate. Glenn next door just scratched his head and allowed as how “It’s gotta be in the morning glory family cause of its leaves but I don’t know.” The seed pods look like milkweed pods but it’s a vine.
Anybody out there know?
In one week the gourds doubled, maybe tripled in size.
They’re everywhere…popping up and out.
I had to reinforce the trellis, just so the whole thing wouldn’t collapse under their weight.
I couldn’t resist adding dragonfly twinkle lights.
It’s been a good summer for gourds and zinnias.
It gets harder and harder to leave this place…
At a distance, she appears like a goddess in a long, green prom gown, about to step out, arms outstretched, sleepwalking away from summer’s waning days.
But oh, to see her up close!
Dropping down from the top rails, huge green leaves waving overhead like fans carried to shelter the sultan’s mid-day walk. Little gourds dropping in along the sides of the trellis like little green alien children playing on monkey bars.
Happy, happy gourds, finally warm enough to spread their wings and fly across the trellis…
I had to add extra tree limbs to support the heavy growing vines as they tossed tendrils across the top span and began working their way toward the west-facing side of the structure.
It was a full moon the night the little gourds began sprouting and I envisioned them stretching out their flappy tendrils, waving at the big giant gourd overhead, saying “Hey, look down here! Look at us! We’re just like you!”
I bet those gourds think they’re going to one day grow so large and round, they’ll just float off to join the moon.
No wonder they’re so happy in the Big Ugly!
Up here, when the neighbors come calling, it looks like this…
Margie and Patrick caught me sitting in the middle of the field, staring at a plant I could’ve sworn was Angel Trumpet, which it was…but it’s more commonly known as Jimson Weed and is deadly poisonous.
If I hadn’t found it on a Google search, I know my friend, Beth, could’ve told me all about it. She’s good that way…and her pictures are a lot better, too.
The burn pile’s waiting on the late September rains that always come, bringing with them the cooler weather that heralds another Autumn.
