Wednesday, November 24, 2010

November 24th

Good morning from late November. The cat is being trained with a squirt bottle and lavender water to wake us up only at dawn. His previous breakfast call had shifted to between 2-3am and this u.n.a.c.c.e.p.t.a.b.l.e. It seems to be working. He is not actually being soaked at all; after the first misting, which he found outrageous,  he stays well beyond range. He has become quite polite. Do you think this might work with politicians?

There are another five ripe strawberries waiting to be eaten, and the silly things keep making flowers.  It bears repeating that this is an ever(and ever and ever)-bearing cultivar called "Fern".

It was sweet, and very firm, almost crisp; nothing like the soft, warm implosion of a July berry.

The blueberry bush. Wherever I am, I hope to be able to grow blueberries. More, I would like many more. The orange and yellow cages are the tepees (tuteurs, properly) that I brought down from the roof farm during my tidying session the other day.

I checked on the farm and found that the squirrel has been busy. Dug up all my newly sown pots. I see pate in his future. I also saw the late afternoon lights coming on in the brownstones across the way. Something stirs deep in my heart at this time of year, from memories of long-ago stories, when I lived far far south on a continent that had hot summer Christmases and where lights did not stream out, showing the life within. The memory is from books internalized but whose romanticized winters had never been experienced in person. 

Today there will be big terrace clean up. Its bones will show. Hard to believe it ever looked like this.

Reflections of red in the doctors' residence.

The ham is calling.


  1. Happy Thanksgiving to you both and Estorbo too.

  2. If you catch the squirrel, call me. You know we're up for it.

  3. Wonder if your strawberries are doing the same thing that grapes do when left on the vine after frost? They make very sweet wine because the sugar content goes sky high. That might explain the change in taste.

    Tell the squirrel that in "these parts" he's the main ingredient in Brunswick Stew!

  4. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones.

    Trade you some ham for a drumstick?

    xo jane

  5. Wow, can't believe you still have strawberries growing. Excellent!

  6. A little bit of used cat litter mixed with the topsoil of my rooftop container plants miraculously deterred the squirrel(s) from digging overnight. (on the other hand I don't grow edible stuff and I can see how sprinkled cat pee and saw dust may be an issue in your case!)

  7. We're in a quandry over how to discourage Kat and Bailey from waking us up extra early. We suspect they take turns. If we get up and tell them to go away, well then we're pretty much wide awake. They have a doggy door to the patio, and we know they aren't actually starving, but apparently they don't see it that way.

  8. What a great idea. I must try the squirter. At the moment I am ineffectively throwing pillows down the stairs at my morning howler, who has learned to run and hide at the sound of the bedroom door opening...

  9. Nevermind politicians, dink jy dit werk met kinders? Op sedert 2am vanoggend...


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