Another one bites the dust

For no apparent reason, one of the trees along the lower stone fence uprooted and fell behind the leaning cherry tree. It's safe to say the fun never ends! 

It's a bit of a mess, but just like every "project," if I take it one step at a time, it's manageable. It also means more firewood.

My cousin and I already had the leaning cherry on the agenda to harvest. The tree is leaning, sure, but it's not a threat to my house so there's no hurry. Now that this other tree is behind it and applying pressure, it may come down on its own. It's okay if it does. 

Hopefully, before that happens, we'll be able to cut the uprooted tree in such a way to relieve the pressure. I certainly wouldn't want the cherry coming down on top of me while I'm mowing the front yard. 

The downside is we're both well-stocked with 

firewood for the 2025-26 season. My cousin has a space problem.  I don't. I can store a lot more split wood than he can. I'm pretty sure we'll cut the rounds now and split later.  And if we need to store all the rounds here on the manor, that's fine. He'll know where it is when the time comes. 

While I have enough trees to keep us both in firewood for as long as we both live, I do worry about the condition of the trees. I don't think our forests are as healthy as they used to be. We have several non-native insects causing damage and there is no way for me to protect the trees on my property. A homeowner can't spray an oak that is one-hundred feet tall. 

But that's a worry for another time and another person. I'll do the best I can do for the years left to me. That's all any of us can do. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, forests, trees, firewood, property management, insect damage, oak tree, cherry tree, rural living, country lifestyle

Frosty morning

We've been busy here at the manor. Work in the woodyard is progressing, albeit slowly. I cut and split a lot of the smaller logs on my own, and now the cousin needs to take care of the bigger logs. Usually, we work together, but our schedules haven't meshed the last two weeks.  

We had our first frost back on November 2. It wasn't a hard frost, though. The only plants I lost were the begonias, but they're pretty tender. The herbs in the Greenstalk are still green. 

The garden area is empty. The five-gallon buckets are empty. The grow bags are empty. It would seem a sad end to the season, but it's not. It's a readying for renewal. I've already got some seeds for next year and I'm planning what I want to concentrate on. This year I grew a little of a lot of different veggies. Next year I want to have one large crop with only a few smaller items. 

The mercury has dipped down into the low thirties at night and I've been firing-up the woodstove. Himself is happy because the living room gets toasty in the evening. I close the doors to the back of the house to keep the heat out. I like my bedroom to be cool so I sleep better. Opening the door about half an hour before I turn in warms the room up just enough. 

On the writing front, I finished Sumner's Garden and it's live at the vendors I use. Finishing that story was bittersweet. I've been writing for over twenty years and with the advent of artificial intelligence, I don't know if I want to continue to read, much less write. I was happy to see Amazon asking if the book I was offering for sale used AI in the writing. That's a NO. I don't like the idea of AI at all. I think its hidden dangers will be revealed too late to those who embrace it. 

It's time I got busy with freeze-drying again. I let it go over the summer in favor of canning, but I've laid out a plan to keep that unit working. 

The trees have shed almost all of their leaves so it's time to clean the gutters. Tomorrow looks to be the day with afternoon temps forecasted to be in the low sixties. After that, it'll be time to hop on a mower and chop some leaves. And if there's time, I'll bring over a tractor bucket of firewood and drop it outside the basement door. 

A frost isn't a bad thing. It simply signals it's time for different things to happen. It is a portent of the changes ahead, of the slide into winter sleep. The manor is ready for it. 

The Lady of the Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, country living, rural living, changing seasons, frost, firewood, woodstove, home food preservation, freeze drying, Greenstalk, trees

A dark ending to a great day

Yesterday, my cousin and I had a very successful yard sale. Many no longer needed items went to new homes and my cousin and I caught up with each other. It was a lot of work to pack up everything and haul it to my uncle's driveway, but the trip home was a lot lighter, ergo, easier. 

I had a great time with Linda, but I was happy to get home. The temps were in the upper 80sF, and there was barely a breeze. It was hot. I unloaded the pickup and then flopped on the bed for a quick rest. A line of thunderstorms was approaching so I didn't want to try to do anything outside. I didn't have time, so a flop-down was my best option. The wind ahead of the front was scary strong and I re-joined the Lord of the Manor to keep an eye on the blowing trees. At about 4:00 pm, we heard BOOM!! BOOMBOOMBOOM!!!

And the house went completely still. The electric power was out. I made the call to report the outage, and so did everyone else in our little enclave. We watched it rain and speculated how long it would take until the power was restored. Longer than we thought.

One of the cousins, being the curious sort, hopped into his truck and drove out to see if he could figure out where the BOOM! occurred and reported in to everyone else.

Just to the right of our bridge, the wind snapped the top out of a tree which fell across the power lines which snapped off the top of a pole that just happened to house a transformer. No wonder there was a big BOOM! 

The word from the power company was grim. We could expect power to be restored no later than 4 PM the next day. Well, crap. 

But country folk are generally prepared for these things. We went out and readied our old generator. I don't even remember what brand it is or the specs on it. All I know is it started and ran like the champ it is. And we heard the humming of other generators as other neighbors settled in for the siege and a few hours lived mostly in the dark.

Happily, the power was restored to us around 7:30 am, or thereabouts. The generator had done it jobs and kept the refrigerator and freezer running. We had water and Internet (sort of), and if it had rained to the point the sump pump was needed, we'd have power to it. 

It's the stormy time of the year. I think I'll leave the generator at the ready for a few more days, just in case. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, power outages, generators, rural living, country lifestyle, preparedness, a writer's life, family, storm damage, trees

Standing Guard

I'm not sure when, or why, I decided to apply my writing skills to the occasional poem, but I'm glad I did. 

Thanksgiving 2017 was the first holiday I spent without my mother. I knew then that my days of big family celebrations had come to an end. It felt rather strange but I knew I'd been set free in an unexpected way. Some of the shackles I lived with fell away upon the realization that as you get older even the family you love isn't always good for you in every situation. 

It wasn’t until it was gone that I realized the amount of stress I suffered at these family gatherings where, without my grandfather to buffer other individuals, my every imperfection was on vivid display. With the passage of time, the sharp edges of memory are blunted and I can once again recall those times with childlike fondness.  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Standing Guard

(Thanksgiving Day, November 23, 2017)

Long ago I tread a path
A misty woodland way
I had no company along the trek
So the trees could have their say

They spoke to me in silence
With movement seen not heard
And I replied in quiet kind
Walking without a word

The day ahead held demands
Devoid of mist and air
I could not whine or complain
Or do what trees don't dare

Beneath the ground unseen by all
Their roots do intertwine
Reminding me the path ahead
Leads home to all that's mine

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

January thaw

My grandfather looked forward to the "January thaw." Where we live, it typically happens mid-month, and this year it arrived right on time. It lasts four to five days and is followed by our coldest days of the year. 

The January thaw gave Pop a few days to walk his property lines and attend to anything that needed to be done. He could read the weather signs, and he told me a few secrets about doing that. As soon as the thaw was over, Pop began studying the seed catalogs. It was time to plan the veggie garden. Indeed, my own thoughts turn to ways to successfully grow a tomato plant. 

Being Sunday, I made the most of the warm day. I opened the windows in my sunroom office and let the fresh air blow through. Some time was spent on the porch, admiring the clear blue sky. I was struck by the patterns and contrasts I could see from my quiet perch. 

In winter, the trees have a silent magnificence, their strength and structure on display. We enjoy their shade in summer but never see beyond the leaves. Stripped for a winter's sleep, they cast long, straight shadows across the ground. 

Winter is a time of discovery. The world laid bare is the world on display. I don't have time to despair the cold air and the threats of snow. 

It's easier to breathe. The air is heady when not laden with moisture. Being outside without sweating is invigorating.

I'll never be a "snowbird" and head for warmer climates when winter comes. I'm made of sterner stuff, like my grandfather. I see the world not as sterile and cold, but ready to renew and I wouldn't miss it for love nor money. 


The Lady of Holly Tree Manor