The 2010 movie "Inception" (a film I've never seen) involves a thief who steals corporate secrets through the use of dream-sharing technology. The term has entered the popular lexicon beyond its original definition and has come to mean a something-within-a-something.
With this in mind, let's turn to a bizarre item Don saw online in passing the other day: Ear earrings.
The result, of course, is ear-ception.
Um, no. Just ... no.
Early this morning (about 6 am), I let Mr. Darcy out on our back deck, and he exploded to the edge, barking fiercely. That's because there was a horse in our driveway.
Ho-hum. There's a horse in our driveway. It was too early to call the neighbors to whom I suspected the horse belonged, so I went back to drinking my tea.
When Don got up, he glanced out the window and said, "Huh. There's a horse in our driveway." Yeah, ho-hum. He started drinking his coffee.
Around 7:30 am, before we had a chance to call, the neighbors came by on their ATV, went up our lower driveway, and put a halter and lead rope on their escaped animal.
We chatted over the edge of the deck and the husband explained he'd forgotten to close a critical gate last night. (They had to round up their escaped cows, too, who were exploring another neighbor's property.)
That's the nice thing about escaped animals in our little valley. While it's annoying when it happens and necessitates rounding up the critters, at least they're not in any danger. They just ... hang around.
Ho-hum.
[Addendum: A reader pointed out the links below were not working. We've repaired the links.]
Today's product review departs from some of the things we've touched on in past reviews. Instead, I'll review one of the best homestead purchases we've ever made: Our Gorilla cart.
As we've gotten older, our philosophy is to work smarter, not harder. This Gorilla cart puts that philosophy into real-life practice. It holds something on the order of 1500 lbs., turns on a dime, and has a dump feature. It also takes a tremendous amount of abuse without complaint. The larger version is also designed to pull behind an ATV (all terrain vehicle).
Look at the size difference between the gorilla cart and our biggest wheelbarrow. Now ask me which one totes heavier loads more easily.
Here is the cart's "dump truck" feature.
These carts aren't cheap, but they're sturdy, well made, and well worth the price. They come in two different sizes: A 10-cubic-foot cart (which is the one we own, with its 1500-lb. capacity), and a 7-cubit-foot version (which has a 1200-lb. capacity). If you're looking for a universal multi-use work aid, we can't recommend these carts highly enough.
Now for some book recommendations.
In 1966, a high school English teacher in Georgia came up with a brilliant idea: To capture the traditions, skills, and legacy of the original pioneers of the Appalachian Mountains before this remarkable generation (and the knowledge they possessed) died out. Accordingly, he led his students into increasingly comprehensive interviews with people all across the region. The resulting series of books, called Foxfire, was one of the most remarkable and seminal collections of first-hand pioneer knowledge ever assembled. If you've never read them, you should.
But in 1972, another very similar project was begun by a different high school class, this one located in Missouri and organized by Ellen Gray Massey. Like Foxfire, it was a collection of first-hand old-time knowledge and skills, but focusing on residents of the Ozark Mountains. This lesser-known companion project resulted in a two-book series called Bittersweet (Bittersweet Earth and Bittersweet Country).
These volumes are absolutely fascinating and chock-full of traditional ways and skills. Here are the descriptions:
• Bittersweet Earth: A description of the folklore, handicrafts, and customs of the Ozarks includes discussions of cooking, camping, moonshiners, and exploring caves
• Bittersweet Country: A collection of articles that were originally published in "Bittersweet" magazine, concerned with individuals, customs, folklore, and the way of life of the Ozarks
We'll never know why these books never achieved the same level of fame as the Foxfire series, because they're truly wonderful. They seem to be out of print and there are no new copies available, but Amazon has quite a number of used copies.
(Obligatory disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Affiliate, if you purchase through those links, we earn a small commission.)
Happy reading! Or carting!
When I returned from my trip to California, I was amazed at what two weeks' difference made in our Jersey heifer Maggie. Before, I sometimes wondered if she was even pregnant since she stayed aggravatingly slim. Now, there is no doubt.
I mean, look at that udder! It's not "bagged up" yet (which indicates birth is close), but it's developing along those lines.
Before I left for my trip, her udder wasn't even well-defined. Now it's almost milkable.
We estimate Maggie is due to calve in late May, probably over Memorial Day weekend-ish. I'll give the new calf unrestricted access for the first week or so, until the colostrum stage is passed, and then I'll start training Maggie to milk. She's a friendly soul and I don't anticipate any problems. And wow, it will be good to have fresh milk and have the means for making butter and cheese again.
Elk have been hanging around our neighborhood a lot. A couple days ago in the very early morning, I glanced out the window and saw a small herd of about six animals in the field across the way.
They were often blocked by trees so I couldn't see exactly what was going on, but it seemed the herd was trotting back and forth across the field quite a bit. It may have had something to do with our neighbor's horse. Horses generally don't like elk.
After a few minutes of this, the herd came up to the fence line by the road just below our property.
One by one, they jumped the fence onto the road.
This put them right at the base of our lower driveway, and they started walking up toward the barn.
Two of the cows were already up the driveway...
...when the rest of the herd noticed me taking photos, and became concerned.
The two elk near the barn jumped fences and trotted off, while the lower elk moved down the road and disappeared from sight.
Just another day on the homestead.
Here's a "Friday Feature Author Interview" by Elise Cooper, who interviewed me on my last two inspirational romances: "The Amish Bride's Secret" and "Uncovering Her Amish Past."
Enjoy!
I got up early the other day, and glanced out the west window and saw ... a stunning full moon, just setting.
I set the camera on a solid surface and propped it upward a bit with a piece of thin wood so I could capture the lunar beauty without blurring.
Down, down, down...
I'm glad I got to see it sink below the horizon.
Just one of those beautiful moments.
By popular demand, we're continuing our "Product Review Monday" series. Up to this point, it's been "Book Review Monday," but we're expanding somewhat to profile some favorite products besides books.
So today, let's examine a great light source during power outages.
Our favorite go-to light source during power outages is the kerosene lamp. I've been in love with kerosene lamps since I was a teenager, and in fact still have (and frequently use) a beautiful lamp my parents gave me when I was sixteen.
But as much as I love the ambience they give, kerosene lamps are not ideal. They require care (so as not to be knocked over), they're potentially dangerous (fire!), the light is not overly bright, and some people are sensitive to the odor, even when using lamp oil instead of kerosene. Plus, of course, you need kerosene (or lamp oil) for fuel.
When we moved here to our new home, it didn't take long to learn power outages are very, very common. A windy day, a snowstorm, a Tuesday ... outages can last anywhere from a few hours to several days.
The logical question that arose during this realization is: What happens if there's a much longer power outage? Do we have enough kerosene on hand to supply all the lamps for a long time?
It was about this time we started searching for an LED light source, something portable, easy to handle, and off-grid. There are numerous options on the market, but we ended up purchasing something called a Dynamo hand-crank solar powered lantern.
This item had extremely good reviews, so we purchased one to see how we liked it. In fact, we liked it so well we purchased four more, and keep them in various locations around the house (and Older Daughter keeps one in her car for roadside emergencies).
This lantern is ten inches high and lightweight. While we usually keep them charged up by electricity, they can be charged a number of ways, including a USB port or a car charger. They have a solar panel on the top (ours still has the protective clear plastic film over it)...
...a AAA-battery case at the bottom...
...and best of all, an option to hand-crank the lantern (one minute of spinning the crank will give about 5 to 8 minutes of light, depending on how fast the crank is turned).
Fully charged, the lamp gives 16 hours of light at the lower (60 lumens) setting, or 10 hours of light at the higher (120 lumens) setting.
These are, unfortunately, a Chinese-made product, so I don't know what (if anything) the tariffs situation will do to the price. Also, be aware a number of different names appear to be on the lantern: Aeptek, Whetstone, etc., but the product is identical.
(Obligatory disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Affiliate, if you purchase through those links, I earn a small commission.)
We have used these lamps extensively during power outages. They're easy to grab when moving to a dark part of the house at night (bathroom, closet, etc.), safe for children and pets to be around, and provide very decent light. It's not the warm yellow light of a kerosene lamp, but instead the bright white light typical of LEDs. However it's plenty bright to read by, do household chores, or place in a bedroom for children to see.
They are also, in my opinion, an important addition to our emergency inventory. Highly recommended.
Ah, nothing like arriving home at three o'clock in the morning.
I flew out from Southern California Friday evening, had one layover, and arrived at a regional airport at midnight. Older Daughter had some errands in the city, so she timed them for Friday, hung with some friends, went to a movie, then just waited at the airport until I arrived. We embarked on the long drive home in the wee hours and arrived at 3 am. None of us got much sleep (Don dozed in a chair but otherwise waited up for us), so yesterday (Saturday) was a zombie day.
But I came home to a landscape transfixed and firmly in early spring. Things are green green green! All the wild plum trees are in full bloom, looking like fluffy balls of cotton on distant hillsides. Sometimes I call this cotton-candy season.
Last year, I noted the complete – and I mean complete – absence of wild plums for whatever reason. If these blossoms are anything to go by, that won't be the case this year.
It's good to be home.
"See if you can get Dad to buy some new shirts," hinted my youngest brother one day on the phone.
It seems Dad was down to just a couple of shirts, and while I (with my typical "'clothing blindness") didn't notice, my brother had. He even went so far as to note Dad's shirt size with an eye toward picking up a few garments on his behalf.
Fortunately it didn't get that far. Dad had a doctor's appointment in a nearby town on Thursday, so on Wednesday I told him, "Tomorrow after your doctor's appointment, let's go buy you some shirts."
Dad was surprisingly agreeable about it. So after his doctor's appointment, we went to a nearby department store, and he selected four shirts. "In lighter colors," he said. "Most of my current shirts are darker."
Armed with four new shirts, we drove home, at which point I confessed that Younger Brother had put me up to the task. Dad laughed heartily over that. My younger brother is, thank God, like a mother hen to our parents.
But the significance of those four new shirts – and possibly why he didn't kick up a fuss over buying them – came clear that evening on the way home from feeding my mother dinner in the nursing home. My own imminent departure was looming, and I'm certain Dad was thinking about living in the house alone without Mom (and without me there as a stopgap).
We were discussing the social aspects Mom might experience in the nursing home. While her ability to communicate is limited, she's surrounded by a very nice (if sometimes odd) collection of patients and a lovely staff. She will have plenty of opportunities for socializing with these people
Out of the blue, Dad started talking about his own social life. For the last few years, being unable to leave my mother's side except for a few dashed and gaspingly fast errands or appointments (after giving Mom strict instructions to stay in bed while he was gone, lest she fall in his absence), his social life has been nonexistent. Now, without Mom in the house, he has the freedom to resume his social connections. And – logical engineer that he is – he recognizes the importance of doing so.
"That's why I bought those shirts," he concluded.
Aha. And here I thought his decision was solely based on my feminine wiles.
But it was a pivotal moment in some ways. Dad will have to adjust to living on his own now. While he's somewhat of an introvert like most of our family, that much solitude is not healthy for a nearly 90-year-old man. That's why I was thrilled when, about a week ago, Dad was able to attend the monthly meeting of a men's group from his church, for example. He fully intends to reconnect with this group and its activities, as well as to explore other activities he's been unable to do during my mother's illness.
So yeah, those four shirts are very, very important.
I had the opportunity to make one last trip to the ocean. Returning from feeding my mother lunch one afternoon, I noted the marine layer (which usually socks in the coast around here) was absent today. My dad urged me to go to the beach to take the opportunity to see it in sunshine. So I did.
At first I thought I would walk along a pathway in a nearby estuary park, which has some interpretive signage along the way. It was here I was able to learn the identity of the bright yellow flowers blooming along the road I noticed last time: Giant coreopsis.
Apparently these flowers are quite rare, although they seemed abundant in the area, easily noticeable since they were in bloom.
At a distance, some double-crested cormorants rested on a log.
However, my estuary walk was curtailed almost immediately with a chain-link fence across the path and a notice of closure. No explanation was given, but it might have been to protect nesting snowy plovers. So I returned to the car (after noticing this California ground squirrel in the parking lot) and went to the beach.
The view was vastly improved in the sparkling sunshine.
I strolled alone the shoreline, beachcombing. One of the first things I noticed was the abundance of velella (also called "By-the-Wind Sailors") washed up on the shore. Oddly, I saw none of these just a few days before. Now they were everywhere. Go figure.
A few treasures:
Top and bottom:
A stately seagull.
Another long-billed curlew. That beak is really something else.
While it was fairly common to see some dead barnacles on a sand dollar...
...this time I found some living barnacles.
Washed ashore as they were, these barnacles will die fairly quickly. So I yeeted the sand dollar and its companions as far out into the water as I could, fully aware it wasn't nearly far enough and they would certainly be washed ashore again in short order.
I took one last look at the beach, then headed back up the path to the parking lot.
I was sitting on a bench, rubbing the sand off my feet to put my shoes and socks back on, when I noticed a man standing on a sandy knoll, gazing at the water.
Then he flung his arms up and over his head, slowly, several times. I don't know if he was meditating, praying, having an exultant moment, or what, but it was kinda neat to see. Moments after taking these photos, the man climbed down from the knoll and went on his way.
And that was my trip to the ocean.
