tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61912317758736444012024-03-05T10:02:59.257-05:00Stratheden Farm: The BlogStratheden Farm: The BlogMr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.comBlogger629125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-26885985935355289732016-11-17T07:37:00.000-05:002016-11-17T07:37:09.556-05:0050 Years ago on a Cold Dark NightThe Leonid meteor shower that rained down in the wee hours of November 17th, 1966, was the greatest meteor shower the world has seen since 1833. On grandfather’s farm, the skies were dark, the wind still and a bitter cold soaked into three bodies. Local photographer Charles W. Manion had loaned a camera & tripod to record whatever Tri-X film could capture of the meteors; he had intended to be present but flu laid him low the day prior. <br /><br />A merry band consisting of your author and couple of high school friends lay shivering on aluminum reclining chairs purloined from our parents’ porches, staring upwards into the infinity of the night heavens from naval twilight until dawn. The shower was steady after midnight, with a brilliant meteor every few minutes - none present had seen, or expected, anything so dramatic. Frame after frame of film was exposed in Mr. Manion’s “Ciroflex” twin lens reflex camera, all the while praying his instructions were being properly executed; young Mr. Fuzzy having never even touched a real camera before this night.<br /><br />And then, as the sky began to evince luminosity of the impending daybreak, the pace of the shower accelerated astronomically. In the half hour from 4:00 to 4:30, over 400 meteors, fireballs, and bolides were witnessed. Some were as brilliant as flash bulbs, some whistled or roared, others fragmented into multiple meteorites. Eventually, even the most brilliant meteors were vanquished by morning light. Of course, all rolls of film were exposed prior to this explosive display of cosmic brilliance, the last frame having been opened to the sky about thirty minutes before the peak activity began…<br /><br />The amateur astronomers dragged themselves home that morning, unable to articulate to parents or friends the magnitude of what had befallen/fallen in the dark hours. Needless to say, after no sleep and that mind bending experience, the efforts of the high school teachers were wasted on wandering/drowsy minds that day. After a school day that seemed to last slightly longer than forever, it was a fifteen minute ride on the Schwinn downtown to Mr. Manion’s photography studio on Frederica Street, on the second floor above Thompson Homes. He was over the flu symptoms but devoid of energy.<br /><br /> Nonetheless, he shuffled into the darkroom and therein Mr. Fuzzy observed in awe as he developed the rolls of 120 Tri-X exposed the night before. After the film dried, and an examination of the negatives on a light table, he pointed out the streaked images of meteors amongst the star trails on the 6x6 cm negatives. He chose a frame, made an 8x10 black & white print and then a scurry to the local newspaper office - who instantly bought the print and ran it in the next edition. The Associated Press picked it up and it ran nationally - with no attribution line! So much for fifteen minutes of fame.<br />
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Mr. Manion invited me to return to his studio a few days after when he would be back to his normal self. He would teach me how to develop film and make a print, should that be Mr. Fuzzy‘s desire. His generosity inalterably redirected a youthful life. Almost every day after school ended (and to be totally honest, some days before school was over), it was a short bicycle ride into another world, the world of photography.<br /><br />A career path had been predetermined for years: science. It was the era of the space race - beat those horrible godless Communists into space and preserve World Peace via scientific dominance. Mr. Fuzzy’s university degree program began in that direction but photography, the art and the science of it, lurked in the recesses of the mind, never out of reach. The tiny closet in his first dorm room was devoid of clothes (all folded/wadded under the iron frame bed) but held a Durst 35mm enlarger and a tiny, compact darkroom, the bare minimum to develop 35mm film and make a 8x10 print. Time and money for photography caused an ebb & flow of activity but always, always, a camera was nearby.<br /><br />After a premature midlife crisis at age 30, a moment of extreme clarity struck, revealing that not being a photographer was denying a true identity … and thus back to university for a Master‘s Degree. Definitely one of the other pivotal moments of nearly seven decades, never regretted. New influences, all good and strong, indirectly directed the growth of art, science and craft. Professor (now Emeritus) J B Colson, photographer and philosopher Dennis Darling, historian Larry J. Schaaf (present <i>in absentia</i>), curator and scholar Roy Flukinger, all made, and continue to make, significant contributions to the fullness and rewards of Mr. Fuzzy’s very being.<br /><br />Charlie Manion passed away at his home in 2001, missed by many but especially your author. He was a second father and that chance meeting precipitated by a meteor shower, shaped the next 50 years of my life. He always carried a little folding magnifier in his trouser pocket, hand for inspecting negatives, prints, camera parts, whatever his curiosity required. When executing difficult photographic exercises, that magnifier is in Mr. Fuzzy’s trouser pocket, for the good luck and good memories it brings.<br /><br />Tonight, fortified by several cups of strong java, Mr. Fuzzy will lay supine on an aluminum lawn chair, under the cold coal black skies of rural Virginia, camera ready on a tripod, awaiting the annual Leonid meteor shower, not predicted to be highly visible due to a bright waning gibbous moon. It would be immensely gratifying if the Creator saw fit send one or two great fireballs earthward to electrify dimming, old eyes. Regardless, his mind will be rerunning memories of a chance meeting, a kind, generous and immensely talented man and half a century of two lives lived through photography, with a well spring of gratitude for those blessings.<br /><br />This landmark anniversary seems like an appropriate moment to end this blog. Mrs. Fuzzy, who wrote many of the best posts, left the room four years past. Chetworth is semi-retired, currently more interested in gourmet free range <i>Peromyscus leucopus</i> and organic <i>Nepeta cataria</i> than expository essays. Mr. Fuzzy is unsure of what to say as America enters The New Dark Ages. It may be time to hunker down.<br /><br />The blog has, alas, been hijacked by Russian opportunists as a sort of click-bait. Most of the readers have been redirected here by scammers’ binary magic. To those friends who have read these 650 posts since 2008, thanks for coming along with Mr. Fuzzy on what has been a wild ride. It is my sincerest wish that your moments occupied by perusing this blog has not been a waste of your time.<br /><br />Peace.<br /><br />Mr. Fuzzy, Esq.<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-8589938772781211122016-10-19T23:41:00.001-04:002016-10-19T23:41:50.689-04:00Going Topless<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPCKwofN_qvg92pXL5OfJQdlGyFa3I-2d3f52yydtBKgD15UNJEK8f-JeLSWPnVmFxp3SLt-2UP0OpI7oNoIkU7AQSt40mRU4BfK1nCKMOXJDz28O8UJAN2N7W8jCzsSejt6ZgLeIybM/s1600/Me+in+Morris+Minor+top+down.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPCKwofN_qvg92pXL5OfJQdlGyFa3I-2d3f52yydtBKgD15UNJEK8f-JeLSWPnVmFxp3SLt-2UP0OpI7oNoIkU7AQSt40mRU4BfK1nCKMOXJDz28O8UJAN2N7W8jCzsSejt6ZgLeIybM/s400/Me+in+Morris+Minor+top+down.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">thanks to Jeff Liverman for the photo!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Its almost late October. Seven mornings ago, the low temperature was 35 degrees. The leaves are changing into their autumn hues rapidly (and falling). Here on the farm, the temperature at 4:00 p.m. today was 81F. According to the Blacksburg office of the National Weather Service, the temperature there was the hottest on today's date since they began keeping records in 1952.<br />
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Tomorrow is scheduled to be in the high seventies and then a severe cool off with high temperatures dropping 30 degrees by Saturday. Back to fleece jackets...<br />
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Mr. Fuzzy looked at all that information and, believing this to be the final warm day of the season, put the top down on the Morris Minor and enjoyed the balmy conditions today. Great fun. Especially when shared with a friend.<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-75947843609765090462016-10-11T18:26:00.004-04:002016-10-11T18:26:43.287-04:00That was fast- - -<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsL3tfDqrEHIQxjiySokqz7Zk6Khee07yXz2lHeYgAJGYZsdqIdbwNb2Fsa5fFmT00GN-MsvEMLIa1MgiGwcAZQqdCWfAJjJsZZVJgkXBR8tC619FzAr_SCp2g7ondcHPMG3GMrmwA7o/s1600/Cirrus+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsL3tfDqrEHIQxjiySokqz7Zk6Khee07yXz2lHeYgAJGYZsdqIdbwNb2Fsa5fFmT00GN-MsvEMLIa1MgiGwcAZQqdCWfAJjJsZZVJgkXBR8tC619FzAr_SCp2g7ondcHPMG3GMrmwA7o/s320/Cirrus+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The transition from summer to autumn was rather abrupt this year. It was in the high 70s not long ago, now seeming like ages ago; when stepping out to welcome the sun this morning and discovering it was 37F, there was a minor chock to the system. Then a large, beatific smile developed.There was scattered frost on the rolling lands and roof tops along Falling Branch Road, unusually early in the month.<br />
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As regular as the motion of the heavens, certain trees on the farm are always the first to evince their recognition of the changing seasons. Perhaps they are more sensitive than their neighbors.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0_pXzBgaFGwXLO1F2eS1jmZFbkBkRayL_6dDnuyL7hNYwzSbd01dsZqy3v635aBft_xsrR_dXxkAqHO0t9G2BKdpcx8hCW9ckMKYsfxtYEVs2HdbFf-Psi47xKwqV51TqZZdh7OimX4/s1600/leaf+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0_pXzBgaFGwXLO1F2eS1jmZFbkBkRayL_6dDnuyL7hNYwzSbd01dsZqy3v635aBft_xsrR_dXxkAqHO0t9G2BKdpcx8hCW9ckMKYsfxtYEVs2HdbFf-Psi47xKwqV51TqZZdh7OimX4/s320/leaf+LR.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7u2drTzyE_k3WtGu8JPo5Xca5Hec-2JEkZIXhYRJwHJoNq0Sanzy7CFH402KD-vrNXvqnbM1rmIm02ur1alCmoHD5OTv7mh_lmcDdGRsN694a4COVegyzTcplI_YlUuVD6GMkyyHYyw/s1600/leaves+on+tree+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7u2drTzyE_k3WtGu8JPo5Xca5Hec-2JEkZIXhYRJwHJoNq0Sanzy7CFH402KD-vrNXvqnbM1rmIm02ur1alCmoHD5OTv7mh_lmcDdGRsN694a4COVegyzTcplI_YlUuVD6GMkyyHYyw/s320/leaves+on+tree+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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On the whole, the leaves are still decidedly green without a hint of yellows or reds. Its due to be another chilly night and the ten day forecast is very autumnal. Perhaps the colors will cascade towards the warm portion of the spectrum this week.<br />
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I hope your world is filled with beauty and wonder, regardless of the type.<br />
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Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-18155988743522461592016-09-26T20:42:00.003-04:002016-09-26T20:42:55.622-04:00At Long Last-<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsiDHkz7UgCngbncfJuPEI-RzD2Xlj3FlJnaV0wNkPkwDZEGkrVj2rG6LqbsI-KruihcFtpfoBvVDR1xWV6saVORSgHrsi7Rpx6_VImvoEejWlJclyMVEQbJeGyyJckNkOMOmP2KeVL8/s1600/chrysanthemums+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsiDHkz7UgCngbncfJuPEI-RzD2Xlj3FlJnaV0wNkPkwDZEGkrVj2rG6LqbsI-KruihcFtpfoBvVDR1xWV6saVORSgHrsi7Rpx6_VImvoEejWlJclyMVEQbJeGyyJckNkOMOmP2KeVL8/s400/chrysanthemums+LR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chrysanthemums on the patio</td></tr>
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Ah, but first a little (very little) closure from the prior post about Betty Boop. There was little mechanical damage and the knowing mechanics placed the new battery in a "marine box" which should absolutely prevent any reoccurence of the problem. That's the good news. The claim was filed with State Farm Insurance 28 days ago and nothing has been received at this end. Not good. The last time I filed a claim (1983?), it took a manly lawyer named Ted to get a check written. Perhaps business practices never change.<br />
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At long last, summer's stranglehold on Floyd county seems to be relaxing. After a summer of temperatures ten to twenty degrees above normal, a cool front has blown into the county, soon to be augmented by a second cool front. It was 82F on Saturday, ridiculous for the mountains at this time of year. Yesterday was largely foggy, the result of a temperature inversion. As you already know, Mr. Fuzzy thinks there is no better time to photograph than in the fog. For your visual delectation, Here's an image from yesterday, taken with a 196os Russian Iskra camera.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5FfbJgbF7VGfSMWbJbZrEknjMTT2rrrnDsgnHoFUEtCOlxrjD0Be4ST61BZCKzvmmBjkgwRPE4q6um0Q11vJZdAbdDvR3yGuktmHWmW5z47TXi7NxkU1gfKVhRWfqKI_BiXA3hr3H6t4/s1600/Fog+parkway+trees+MR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5FfbJgbF7VGfSMWbJbZrEknjMTT2rrrnDsgnHoFUEtCOlxrjD0Be4ST61BZCKzvmmBjkgwRPE4q6um0Q11vJZdAbdDvR3yGuktmHWmW5z47TXi7NxkU1gfKVhRWfqKI_BiXA3hr3H6t4/s400/Fog+parkway+trees+MR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The prolonged summer has caused odd effects on plants. Cosmos and some zinnias have re-seeded; the second crop of the cosmos will bloom in a few days. Remarkable. The food garden went heavy on peppers this year, planting four varieties. Despite the lack of water since mid-summer, they have prospered, keeping the kitchen steadily supplied. One variety is still blooming and all four are still growing peppers.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYRHs2LW1Fa9ZTcbYZqIRbtURdJKmHFH6ziIVPYMDy5Ss3LR2pMYcVpwH0FbeKPU4Otc0_m9UZLIXtD8NE2iVlIDH1Lo-h3Q8i2ZE04e58UTBxn-nfdV2Q_6DuRYVdOnYIWxt-kcqmJs/s1600/pepper+1+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYRHs2LW1Fa9ZTcbYZqIRbtURdJKmHFH6ziIVPYMDy5Ss3LR2pMYcVpwH0FbeKPU4Otc0_m9UZLIXtD8NE2iVlIDH1Lo-h3Q8i2ZE04e58UTBxn-nfdV2Q_6DuRYVdOnYIWxt-kcqmJs/s320/pepper+1+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVO4_lcvyjvggpua602ep0q9KdXxjbnGvEjQyXMkpnLtQGVhGeUgbxAFp2ivo1f6BCHC0GlIuRsriG-1HOsjUyKCnHp-dCZPWnSpZsb9j-AYT7S_xGTng0dqZBEkU0iTf2JjAQSqFbGc/s1600/pepper+2+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVO4_lcvyjvggpua602ep0q9KdXxjbnGvEjQyXMkpnLtQGVhGeUgbxAFp2ivo1f6BCHC0GlIuRsriG-1HOsjUyKCnHp-dCZPWnSpZsb9j-AYT7S_xGTng0dqZBEkU0iTf2JjAQSqFbGc/s320/pepper+2+LR.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5njZ4W7601jC7mPgoIukWh9Sogms4fq4Csdir3cwR77Md_mRmWF-RnYJjslO8OeqcbFbxhyXSI-KHRoBq8TAnpCatet2TrfrN7jP4m3fbmOpQaZvq_Nqrz8xcqOV96Bge53mEFhXnHaE/s1600/pepper+3+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5njZ4W7601jC7mPgoIukWh9Sogms4fq4Csdir3cwR77Md_mRmWF-RnYJjslO8OeqcbFbxhyXSI-KHRoBq8TAnpCatet2TrfrN7jP4m3fbmOpQaZvq_Nqrz8xcqOV96Bge53mEFhXnHaE/s320/pepper+3+LR.jpg" width="309" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheK1Tb9xi43tzX9Wv5jlRA0MM602tYUr8tPIM6Y8L9DjaHr3jkIUCboKgSVoS5CBd-wsAUe-3lzY2eWu7BrwiVfIMWzlnOvscMuEqmfLAPQlhd8u5KkrcqwryxB-UmT4Xd9s9LcUaD1wA/s1600/calendula+common+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheK1Tb9xi43tzX9Wv5jlRA0MM602tYUr8tPIM6Y8L9DjaHr3jkIUCboKgSVoS5CBd-wsAUe-3lzY2eWu7BrwiVfIMWzlnOvscMuEqmfLAPQlhd8u5KkrcqwryxB-UmT4Xd9s9LcUaD1wA/s320/calendula+common+LR.jpg" width="273" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqkqDcFWXUIW2NXAWvKoZ_zPxrvGtVgMXq4XvQUDvHdrzjc7ufYMmfSrMGw2WtRiGTYX6qZsGPBVC2inV3zu8NaeNOFLSqvmzHuzVt-tCQ1CLm0FTBKLcoOJF_RmnwF-ehhSBfaIGj9-I/s1600/calendula+fancy+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqkqDcFWXUIW2NXAWvKoZ_zPxrvGtVgMXq4XvQUDvHdrzjc7ufYMmfSrMGw2WtRiGTYX6qZsGPBVC2inV3zu8NaeNOFLSqvmzHuzVt-tCQ1CLm0FTBKLcoOJF_RmnwF-ehhSBfaIGj9-I/s320/calendula+fancy+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Several years ago, a common variety of yellow calendula was grown from seed and has done well and perpetuated itself. As a result, this year a second variety was started, a little unusual one. Both are still in bloom as if it was mid-summer.<br />
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Another plant begun from seed were the portulacas - in pots on the patio. They, too, have outdone themselves and although past their prime (with which Mr Fuzzy can empathize), still are blooming madly.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYN7sW_blfzvMsz1q2dtTfNwPLToKNi9WtdU6RjsxbFxuocX1T3GecOvHf571edNnklMuU7u3TGPYI4tt3B31epXb2cgz8E22VFVWyOUFU7v1rcCE1v-1t3ao0Tg0kQ8gid9zxAX1RiI/s1600/portulaca+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYN7sW_blfzvMsz1q2dtTfNwPLToKNi9WtdU6RjsxbFxuocX1T3GecOvHf571edNnklMuU7u3TGPYI4tt3B31epXb2cgz8E22VFVWyOUFU7v1rcCE1v-1t3ao0Tg0kQ8gid9zxAX1RiI/s320/portulaca+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
An absolutely wild success has been a particular marigold (must find that seed packet!). Marigolds always are decent but this variety has been outstanding. They've not received any watering other than from the sky and yet the plants are huge. Here is a portion of ONE plant:<br />
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Last but surely not least, the zinnia patch:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJmeX6nh3oOa8BGUHdJC_Y53AvU1dD3hXzCrxCtNB3A76W193njg-ydVm6XalZtqegQQhknmgqwj-sQID6X_KLJL2RrslrY32ftrglZyylj9EFK5WLc5cU8bwo06YiGcQBTiJoM55Ly4/s1600/zinnias+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJmeX6nh3oOa8BGUHdJC_Y53AvU1dD3hXzCrxCtNB3A76W193njg-ydVm6XalZtqegQQhknmgqwj-sQID6X_KLJL2RrslrY32ftrglZyylj9EFK5WLc5cU8bwo06YiGcQBTiJoM55Ly4/s400/zinnias+LR.jpg" width="350" /></a></div>
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As this is closed, it is raining gently and the temperatures declining. Perhaps autumn will come soon.<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-83312059810427227762016-08-28T16:54:00.002-04:002016-08-28T16:54:41.005-04:00A Real Eye Opener As at least some of the readership is aware, Mr Fuzzy motors into town many Sunday mornings to meet friends for breakfast at The Blue Ridge Cafe, in bucolic, scenic downtown Floyd. Today was no exception.<br />
Climbing into the 1940 Ford DeLuxe Coupe about 7:45 a.m. the trip began as every other, down the dirt driveway, on to the dirt county road thence turning onto the state highway. About 400 yards down the highway, the ampere gauge pegged to the positive side, indicating the alternator was charging at its absolute maximum. Hmmm, what could cause that? Before ten brain cells could engage fully, there was a distinct odor of smoke. Then wisps of smoke. Then smoke beginning to fill the passenger compartment.<br />
It was a <i>long</i> 300-400 yards into a large pullout...<br />
Once stopped and the ignition turned off, the next move was to grab the fire extinguisher in the trunk... which was locked... back into the now smokier car... finally unlocked, the trunk hood raised and - - - the battery was on fire (the battery is in the trunk on many hot rods) and the upholstery behind the back seat had ignited. Step #1 was to pull the large spare tire away from the battery so the rubber would not catch fire, step #2 was pull the fire extinguisher pin and douse the fire. Given the amount of flame, it was surprising that one quick release of fire powder completely stopped the fire. Oh my.<br />
Next, call the fire department & police on the cell phone in case of a flare up... that would have been a good plan but not with a dead phone... fortunately a good Samaritan pulled up and asked if I needed help - she phoned the authorities for me. A county deputy arrived in a couple of minutes, then a second and then a fireman.<br />
The deputy called a tow truck, and now Betty Boop is parked in front of her mechanic's shop awaiting his expert eyes on the morrow.<br />
The damage from fire, smoke and battery acid appears to be relatively confined - it was maybe a minute or less from catching the (full) gas tank on fire, which would have been very interesting.<br />
It seems to often be the case in Mr Fuzzy's life that things could <i>always</i> have been worse. The car could have burned up - and its driver. Ye old lungs still can feel the hot battery acid infused smoke and after two washings, beard & moustache still reek of it, gentle reminders of the unusual beginning of the day.Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-80729184336139201692016-08-25T20:43:00.000-04:002016-08-25T20:43:06.125-04:00Contemporary Longrifle Association<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrh54njr15ygFefETWibYKsPbFa84bTdxCxqTU5-MRGVWn1Rj_26QQHeZf-9pa8t-6XiFa4amip3lpGEPo6uwKNDOTb-_nPSpw96kIchhSBXAXzM5kvr-VNNIdlSFnN85ZklTNh39BJ0/s1600/Brennan+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrh54njr15ygFefETWibYKsPbFa84bTdxCxqTU5-MRGVWn1Rj_26QQHeZf-9pa8t-6XiFa4amip3lpGEPo6uwKNDOTb-_nPSpw96kIchhSBXAXzM5kvr-VNNIdlSFnN85ZklTNh39BJ0/s400/Brennan+LR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rifle by Judd Brennan of Alaska, perhaps the greatest living gun maker</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfFCQDANkDKDUeaPl20GYJvHteg9i2I0KwmZ2SywjkMv7TKQ5-tRf0ieISpot70TIyL9KLpVX9ARzv7MKydtzyHxtpJMPHIIrkNqth8c0N1YNbMCBYheKzbOVRCxFn81EpOEDBMoid54/s1600/Wild+Willy+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfFCQDANkDKDUeaPl20GYJvHteg9i2I0KwmZ2SywjkMv7TKQ5-tRf0ieISpot70TIyL9KLpVX9ARzv7MKydtzyHxtpJMPHIIrkNqth8c0N1YNbMCBYheKzbOVRCxFn81EpOEDBMoid54/s320/Wild+Willy+LR.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willy Frankfort, artist on horn</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPPNkmQoaGOZqWxPvOxQdipJ8Xkjj7AP9r6PE9z7r_vS9c_-jp020Y3TlvvNVefvM0T0hlyjLN_sgk5bYoaFwd1xc7KzLozg698mLlzNrTeBWP37m2DiMCAWPe7vhp4i8vRgFMExK6-A/s1600/Gahagan+side+plate+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPPNkmQoaGOZqWxPvOxQdipJ8Xkjj7AP9r6PE9z7r_vS9c_-jp020Y3TlvvNVefvM0T0hlyjLN_sgk5bYoaFwd1xc7KzLozg698mLlzNrTeBWP37m2DiMCAWPe7vhp4i8vRgFMExK6-A/s320/Gahagan+side+plate+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a new gun by Ken Gahagan, master of aging firearms</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAxFhF-yfxPfpswnR0rDr5pPrPtXKeRRae6_7bxJcGWxQ0taLcD7f_K_cJGtyzLzgYHsihgWimrzAZCo930ExYjyyUuRg1ctSQ9VDodKQRE4qzaUDRrwoIW4vVuMoxxNH9suUsH6ntN8/s1600/Ken+G+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAxFhF-yfxPfpswnR0rDr5pPrPtXKeRRae6_7bxJcGWxQ0taLcD7f_K_cJGtyzLzgYHsihgWimrzAZCo930ExYjyyUuRg1ctSQ9VDodKQRE4qzaUDRrwoIW4vVuMoxxNH9suUsH6ntN8/s320/Ken+G+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ken Gahagan educating a newbie</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The annual meeting of the CLA has come and gone. It was much better attended than last year and mot of my friends report selling more, although there were some notable exceptions. Its what Mr Fuzzy wishes his high school reunions were: lots of old friends, warm & fuzzy feelings, new friends to be established, great art to peruse, and a few new things in the house that are extravagances...<br />
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Remember you may click on any image to enlarge it. In particular, the Brennan gun is worth a careful examination. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQ3chJa4krpqhRI86SCi9pF4h4ml2LpYhh3_FVYlSTHwwB0q16d5DuArQIolTx9UnXKx0bJUzBBvtvIqY8sSxa6b3x95yHXHx4CVVj5D7VpzhnxTfTaszsaONiw6hLmmy8C5BnQxj97c/s1600/Brian+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQ3chJa4krpqhRI86SCi9pF4h4ml2LpYhh3_FVYlSTHwwB0q16d5DuArQIolTx9UnXKx0bJUzBBvtvIqY8sSxa6b3x95yHXHx4CVVj5D7VpzhnxTfTaszsaONiw6hLmmy8C5BnQxj97c/s320/Brian+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brian Anderson with his traditionally forged tomahawks</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQq3E3v-aAaSEpPot_SPFATQ9kN1td-3z10S8QWAD0k6DW-vd0ojK1JY4cTBCVnP6POABSB44CtkdRZzSnj50fF9n9g326c60fbDllgkzRTcgOR11jAMU81PjIT467mUMQPYMw2rcdRr4/s1600/hide+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQq3E3v-aAaSEpPot_SPFATQ9kN1td-3z10S8QWAD0k6DW-vd0ojK1JY4cTBCVnP6POABSB44CtkdRZzSnj50fF9n9g326c60fbDllgkzRTcgOR11jAMU81PjIT467mUMQPYMw2rcdRr4/s320/hide+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plains Indian style hide painting</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpwBQNpxUlrM4O9sZln_oDcR2MY0oR4WUNNDODJLvf9iMw5WZTbCrRsdG2ct2iBVvPsf5mTcXt9qbLSM5QBqw7XzIzPPSAN0kseH2s0hKPWwHXFmID1PCWy8_sQIPPYexrEorUNy4ilk/s1600/Crews+Print.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpwBQNpxUlrM4O9sZln_oDcR2MY0oR4WUNNDODJLvf9iMw5WZTbCrRsdG2ct2iBVvPsf5mTcXt9qbLSM5QBqw7XzIzPPSAN0kseH2s0hKPWwHXFmID1PCWy8_sQIPPYexrEorUNy4ilk/s320/Crews+Print.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delft style ceramics by Lisa Crew</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgOGNfwIw5f0cYGe-9dM0-DsyaYODyjF4URFGE5vMbMI7OjVYGQBTdRVp4Rs5SbQf4p9huCPjoyhRCFZYi1MJSxqqaoAKDXuar9uzswOQYa2qJejhJBNmkn1mGWTtD6ev_RJu7U4IZ4Y/s1600/Horn+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgOGNfwIw5f0cYGe-9dM0-DsyaYODyjF4URFGE5vMbMI7OjVYGQBTdRVp4Rs5SbQf4p9huCPjoyhRCFZYi1MJSxqqaoAKDXuar9uzswOQYa2qJejhJBNmkn1mGWTtD6ev_RJu7U4IZ4Y/s320/Horn+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">purportedly an original 18th century Native American horn</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-25940171930968139402016-08-12T09:22:00.000-04:002016-08-12T09:24:29.151-04:00Two complete Orbits around the Sun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFw3g6BMaNw69HFoM1DQchTTtJbYAluBHVh-SG4p2P0MJmiSrvUJTPnAthhyE4x384TNB3bi-_QLQeacg3dPA880EZVdb-AZ-PJQ1wYuVmcoUVGWJtIp8vC5tP9zpWMd1ZLwarZuaN6ok/s1600/Blue+Ridge+fog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFw3g6BMaNw69HFoM1DQchTTtJbYAluBHVh-SG4p2P0MJmiSrvUJTPnAthhyE4x384TNB3bi-_QLQeacg3dPA880EZVdb-AZ-PJQ1wYuVmcoUVGWJtIp8vC5tP9zpWMd1ZLwarZuaN6ok/s320/Blue+Ridge+fog.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Rain and humidity have been the norm for the last few weeks, accompanied by higher than normal temperatures. Some nights have barely descended into the sixties. Oddly, there has not been a typical amount of fog this year - until dear friends from New Mexico came to visit. The Fog God ended his vacation time and returned with renewed vigor. Just when it behooved me to show old friends some of the 60-mile panoramas of Virginia, visibility dropped to near zero.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKWmxoPJN17z7ux-17yLvhhKya3l7sV33L2pwtN9molLqrsJ0BBYK8O5IDOifWnEmCuXj72Es9j-2dcSUjYllxjMqj3p-y5ZwFTUaxQG3b-65I2sq-_0uqhMND0NlvpPP7Ynr3WB2U1M/s1600/Babies+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKWmxoPJN17z7ux-17yLvhhKya3l7sV33L2pwtN9molLqrsJ0BBYK8O5IDOifWnEmCuXj72Es9j-2dcSUjYllxjMqj3p-y5ZwFTUaxQG3b-65I2sq-_0uqhMND0NlvpPP7Ynr3WB2U1M/s320/Babies+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Its been nearly a month since conditions were ideal for driving or washing the cars - but now that the New Mexicans have moved onward, the sun and lower humidity have returned, perfect for bathing the Morris Minor and the Ford Coupe this morning. These cars have a particular poignancy today, the second anniversary of The Divorce Settlement, since the ex had declared she wanted (and would get) the Morris and probably the Ford. Not, mind you, that she could drive a stick shift - or see over the hood of the coupe... My faith in the legal system is very circumscribed but after adequate time for being tortured, it finally came through for me.<br />
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Life is now peaceful, rewarding, and very, very full; as good as its ever been. I am so fortunate. <br />
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<span class="st"><i>“New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.” Lao Tzu</i></span>Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-16813976163541492772016-08-06T18:40:00.004-04:002016-08-10T20:29:01.885-04:00Much belated<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0TRdZxlQiwi7EKM7TIYFXI2Z45Wjqh6S0hu-1x5qcHGLNCvksCaO5DEezhyqz9mRVzyTwlWW7gxHjeb41GkcKrvigEhYN4ZV1pbYbBsC3wTiMG1yqIj0HDZFDLOtZWq0Ml5dk44sf9M/s1600/Jeff+MR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0TRdZxlQiwi7EKM7TIYFXI2Z45Wjqh6S0hu-1x5qcHGLNCvksCaO5DEezhyqz9mRVzyTwlWW7gxHjeb41GkcKrvigEhYN4ZV1pbYbBsC3wTiMG1yqIj0HDZFDLOtZWq0Ml5dk44sf9M/s400/Jeff+MR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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On Sunday nights, a local wood fired pizza joint and beer parlor (with about a dozen craft beers on tap) host an open mic. You never know what will show up, sometimes it blows your socks off and sometimes it just blows. The only way to know is to go to the show. This particular night was heavy with locals and given the depth of the talent pool here, that guarantees some good tunes. Stage photography is on of those subjects were digital photography is hands-down superior to film. Despite half a century of experience, I would not be able to equal these results with film. The opening image is Jeff Liverman and his red-hot harmonica player. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0IMjNtQybVHNXcmgrDpc3M-UwlI9Otlv6hDUIJJecVbCnG2G2C0_mlj6wXJt7mCI-3sd5odl3Kwi92n_8oIYQVxv3BiRJCZuTUVm-pNxLQBWL58es4HD1RpVBIy_mWtnCFQNbRsuXek/s1600/Norton+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0IMjNtQybVHNXcmgrDpc3M-UwlI9Otlv6hDUIJJecVbCnG2G2C0_mlj6wXJt7mCI-3sd5odl3Kwi92n_8oIYQVxv3BiRJCZuTUVm-pNxLQBWL58es4HD1RpVBIy_mWtnCFQNbRsuXek/s320/Norton+LR.jpg" width="314" /></a></div>
The guitar player to the left is Will Norton, a singer song writer who often tickles my fancy with his lyrics. The gentleman picking the banjo, Phil Woddail, is an old time musician with great talent and authenticity.<br />
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On open mic night, each musician may play three songs. Perhaps it is my imagination but it seems the least talented play the longest tunes...<br />
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Instruments this summer have run the gamut from dulcimer to bagpipe.<br />
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Another reward to Floyd life.<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-85053032643814978802016-06-26T16:50:00.001-04:002016-06-26T16:50:36.846-04:00Typical<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ai1FC_wKRGh4x-kjn_7Kau-r9iWHD9L6OTJDX4NQph5pbkNgV4Y5GmtNWc03XeeCSgK-KJMC3Iw1bBD_dOMcsl50ZCGEDdI81Ma5JxS1Pv45XiuLG-lGvoDWdySAdrbnFZhZp-sJw1M/s1600/Cloud+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ai1FC_wKRGh4x-kjn_7Kau-r9iWHD9L6OTJDX4NQph5pbkNgV4Y5GmtNWc03XeeCSgK-KJMC3Iw1bBD_dOMcsl50ZCGEDdI81Ma5JxS1Pv45XiuLG-lGvoDWdySAdrbnFZhZp-sJw1M/s400/Cloud+LR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Even after more than seven years, friends, both old and new, politely inquire as to whether Mr Fuzzy misses his old digs in New Mexico. Except for dear friends, green chile, and the wonderful home designed by Malcolm Worby, the answer is simple: not at all. My home here is nestled into the forest like a babe in its mother's arms but my open view southward is to the horizon. In the winter, when the forest is without leaves, Buffalo Mountain, about 20 miles away, is easily seen. The clouds are every bit as beautiful here, and the iconic flower of the Southwest, the yucca, naturalizes here very nicely.<br />
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Wildlife abounds on the farm, especially deer and turkeys, both sometimes making themselves pests. Eagles are seen every once in a while, saw one riding the currents yesterday. The sound of frogs and forest insecta are literally music to my ears at night. Here is a photo of a doe and her twins, taken by my old friend, Gary, who is visiting.<br />
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No desire to return to New Mexico whatsoever. I love it here.<br />
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Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-74730915317514900002016-06-18T00:12:00.000-04:002016-06-18T00:12:34.591-04:00Haying <br />
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After a cool and wet spring, lasting into mid-June, the rains suddenly halted and old Sol reigned supreme. The days were clear, hot, and relatively low humidity. This break in the weather came just in time for haying- the grasses were mature, dry, ready to harvest. A high wind might have laid them down, ruining all.<br />
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With a lot of assistance from my neighbor, we worked on both his hay and mine. My role was kicking the hay, the process after the mowing and before raking into wind rows. The kicking scatters the hay so it dries well. The days were hot and windy so the drying process proceeded very quickly. It looks like the week long heat spell allowed almost everyone to bale their hay. My yields were very good, maybe a record, we'll see when the bales are counted.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kicker at work behind me</td></tr>
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After baling, the grass is tender, its leaves shredded makes for moisture loss and with no cover, the roots become hot and dehydrate readily. The heat hung on days after the last bales were tied, causing some amount of worry. Then two days ago, an unforecast large storm cell drifted over the county and dropped 1.25" here at Stratheden Farms (over three inches in Roanoke, enough to cause flooding). The thirsty ground absorbed nearly all.<br />
Then yesterday, another quarter of an inch fell and about the same today. The pasture, garden and farmer are all content.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view from the Blue Ridge Parkway today</td></tr>
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-26608359289844034582016-06-01T08:48:00.002-04:002016-06-10T07:20:04.902-04:00Yard (sale) & Gardens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyX6W7PpLqzIsUf3Hz-LRq4O5t_23xu-n1STaYOr0hQ5HGRmpw7uzNE7JNQUbM6oY_W3zfU3qbyX9bsvB6Sun_cmNzzW-Q_gg4loBC_j-XTS55GYI0AyZ-06SR3QiE0JMEXHMkQ8E23c/s1600/Sale+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyX6W7PpLqzIsUf3Hz-LRq4O5t_23xu-n1STaYOr0hQ5HGRmpw7uzNE7JNQUbM6oY_W3zfU3qbyX9bsvB6Sun_cmNzzW-Q_gg4loBC_j-XTS55GYI0AyZ-06SR3QiE0JMEXHMkQ8E23c/s320/Sale+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
One of the major cultural landmarks of this region is the huge flea market held down the road thirty miles in Hillsville on Memorial Day weekend. Purported to draw 500,000 potential buyers, the effect of the sale radiates outward through adjoining counties. Along State Highway 221, from Roanoke to Hillsville, for 70 miles, every farm house and parking lot has folks trying to dispose of junk without making the trip to the dump- by making it someone else's junk. Just a walking distance away from the farm, the Falling Branch Methodist church has a good flea market; Stratheden Farm doesn't need anymore junque but there are always a few cakes and pies for sale, made by ladies old enough to know how to make them from scratch. Mrs. Sower's German Chocolate Coconut Pound Cake (for $6.00 - the ingredients cost more than that!) went back to Stratheden to be destroyed at leisure.<br />
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This is gardening season, The little garden, although having been tilled twice already, was about to be overtaken by weeds/grasses and needed another turning before more seedlings could be transplanted.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotTRWJEd9d-F4LW9cPiomgH0GnrRNfcgqKsPOXQtgrq3NJ-KxJS54lQjR2ZHpH9ZUQXMupSUCWGgFbMluOKkIdRQjlxUCDgk1cYHgFzAT2QMxc3bXTJlgJryQj8xbyOPmybgMbFILLxM/s1600/weeds+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotTRWJEd9d-F4LW9cPiomgH0GnrRNfcgqKsPOXQtgrq3NJ-KxJS54lQjR2ZHpH9ZUQXMupSUCWGgFbMluOKkIdRQjlxUCDgk1cYHgFzAT2QMxc3bXTJlgJryQj8xbyOPmybgMbFILLxM/s200/weeds+LR.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">before</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnRHA8q_Wom7usIS7Ol4mR0AwFIJEuaeRBEEz8M3FScFvqAo2kkbIOKbz8wKQcty2L-CjiMJu_V-QhZYvON_8nuZwy62QH_SEsxKZKHwklhYet-8KbaCq8dMBK8M2Fbee-qTizr7wRqY/s1600/transplants+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnRHA8q_Wom7usIS7Ol4mR0AwFIJEuaeRBEEz8M3FScFvqAo2kkbIOKbz8wKQcty2L-CjiMJu_V-QhZYvON_8nuZwy62QH_SEsxKZKHwklhYet-8KbaCq8dMBK8M2Fbee-qTizr7wRqY/s320/transplants+LR.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">after </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Much of the garden is still vacant, most seedlings still not yet of adequate size to go into the ground. The flea beetles have already attacked tomato seedlings as they sit on the patio. A Japanese beetle was also spied - and destroyed. It seems several weeks too early for these destructive pests.<br />
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Writing must cease and weeding must begin. Until the next post, best wishes to you.<br />
<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-63108445173459285992016-05-27T07:21:00.001-04:002016-06-10T07:23:07.679-04:00Its Summer!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUI3sUtngURGoqeq_BKOZwxA45jNu7anTiYNsws0YfWfQ5oOKRldid4YpuFFRcPyejceRhEipVTz8d6tHzfpqkZsuPFuKxRacVn_giS9MwFRn3SNUrNvAme9C411b4ES9jmpIHXkYP10Q/s1600/Stella+d%2527oro+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYad15uPPabFu0nUuvGwHCDhgz8JvYlrXpQfOBIrr-zh5LK_ciZFxfPjt6UaHu4L6-75_NCstjhv8wAjqXACsofvmlHkWLWjHjQ7nefatYk22So6PQH5D3SGV_M4-ZFJyHnMX6e_4tBUw/s1600/Peony+group+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYad15uPPabFu0nUuvGwHCDhgz8JvYlrXpQfOBIrr-zh5LK_ciZFxfPjt6UaHu4L6-75_NCstjhv8wAjqXACsofvmlHkWLWjHjQ7nefatYk22So6PQH5D3SGV_M4-ZFJyHnMX6e_4tBUw/s640/Peony+group+LR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUI3sUtngURGoqeq_BKOZwxA45jNu7anTiYNsws0YfWfQ5oOKRldid4YpuFFRcPyejceRhEipVTz8d6tHzfpqkZsuPFuKxRacVn_giS9MwFRn3SNUrNvAme9C411b4ES9jmpIHXkYP10Q/s1600/Stella+d%2527oro+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUI3sUtngURGoqeq_BKOZwxA45jNu7anTiYNsws0YfWfQ5oOKRldid4YpuFFRcPyejceRhEipVTz8d6tHzfpqkZsuPFuKxRacVn_giS9MwFRn3SNUrNvAme9C411b4ES9jmpIHXkYP10Q/s320/Stella+d%2527oro+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a>How do you know its summer in Floyd? Three dramatic additions to the landscape:<br />
1. daylilies in bloom (Stella d'Oro here)<br />
2, peonies in bloom <br />
3. Fireflies (or lightning bugs, depending on where in the South you grew up) are dancing all evening in the pastures.<br />
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It has rained twelve of the last fourteen days and of course, the skies have been gray. Mostly unseasonable cool temperatures, with morning lows about 50F.<br />
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Tuesday and Wednesday were delightfully sunny, stimulating the peonies and early daylilies to explode into bloom after two weeks of holding their buds closed, awaiting just the right ray of sunlight.<br />
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Mr. Fuzzy spent two weekends ago with good 18th century friends participating in The Raid at Martin's Station, a recreation of the devastating Cherokee raids on the frontier in the 1770s. The weather was clear and dry, always good since dragging wet canvas tents home in the back of the car ceases to be fun very quickly. The temperatures were surprisingly cold, with the Sunday morning reading being 37F.<br />
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The entire event was a fine example of "I get by with a little help from my friends." Having only packed one thin blanket (the three day forecast was terribly wrong), the only way the nights were passable was thanks to loans of blankets from Bill B., Bill C. and George M. Thank you so much my friends, it would have been miserable for my old bones without your kindness.<br />
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Due to a single narcissistic personality, the hunters' camp crew found other places to lay their bed rolls, thus dispersing a long standing community of talented re-enactors. One feature of the old camp was gourmet meals, sadly lacking now. Mr. Comer provided your humble correspondent with a much needed black and tan one evening at the new camp and a communal dinner of no mean quality was devoured. Lisa C's strawberry desert was delectable in the extreme. Walking back to my tent, Dolly inquired if I might like a bite of rhubarb pie. Well, do bears have ticks? REAL rhubarb pie, no other fruits. Oh my, the ecstasy after each bite! Thank you so much.<br />
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The cultural life in tiny Floyd is always a source for amazement. A few nights ago, The Jacksonville Arts Center hosted two Irish musicians for some wonderful traditional music. Its fair to say everyone present had a fine time listening to the fiddle and accordion duo. He was also a great storyteller in the Irish tradition.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyOQ_xkRenD0arBvTIkHapMAoTlBeQIOgq7y7KDRwQbP6cOTVoeHijyWULoHmqw9A2QGUR94GUGRhmB3N2-rch9ALfOf_XKVAx7uJ0p0v9j8rszbKAsFjZpCS8tYVDeFNYbPA3WW8c4Q/s1600/Web+size+615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyOQ_xkRenD0arBvTIkHapMAoTlBeQIOgq7y7KDRwQbP6cOTVoeHijyWULoHmqw9A2QGUR94GUGRhmB3N2-rch9ALfOf_XKVAx7uJ0p0v9j8rszbKAsFjZpCS8tYVDeFNYbPA3WW8c4Q/s320/Web+size+615.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-31757309607178787052016-05-12T07:28:00.001-04:002016-05-12T07:28:20.316-04:00Iris<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYe7T9quenrlLRPRs82s8cs7OZHJ3Nbgo5rXY84YtfYBrldGz7aF8euFSjzuE-eRg-EOf6SafFwxSt0DKkXbtJk_D9gDuHc3xsJAC-9HMvNROCEEj0X3PXBDjKCVNSoFjv3c57cnSvZmM/s1600/purple+iris+totem+pole+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYe7T9quenrlLRPRs82s8cs7OZHJ3Nbgo5rXY84YtfYBrldGz7aF8euFSjzuE-eRg-EOf6SafFwxSt0DKkXbtJk_D9gDuHc3xsJAC-9HMvNROCEEj0X3PXBDjKCVNSoFjv3c57cnSvZmM/s320/purple+iris+totem+pole+LR.jpg" width="189" /></a>Despite the odd winter which cycled from frigid to warm throughout the season, it appears that relatively few plants were seriously damaged. A prolonged and very warm spell in December caused some iris to break dormancy and send up leaves. Despite nights in the low single digits, the leaves endured and now have produced some spectacular blooms, both in size and number. Its difficult to appreciate from the image but the deep purple/blue iris blooms are the size of my hand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NC2bQOl5E9HCI_PAxVCxeYY1nvdhHJrKc5P3E98ph2k8Hkvlq8R5LLcQf-iPVSFmOZoq_Ch4U5qy2qJ75Prh_feeaAE6e1yIlRK1ZnNfF-7svh7RoUzGmHFG-CwN7eeYJR6nQ_1Jasg/s1600/virginia+iris+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NC2bQOl5E9HCI_PAxVCxeYY1nvdhHJrKc5P3E98ph2k8Hkvlq8R5LLcQf-iPVSFmOZoq_Ch4U5qy2qJ75Prh_feeaAE6e1yIlRK1ZnNfF-7svh7RoUzGmHFG-CwN7eeYJR6nQ_1Jasg/s320/virginia+iris+LR.jpg" width="290" /></a>The wild iris have also prospered this year. The common blue iris (Iris Virginica) is opening all over the farm, adding those intense touches of blue here and there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTnkQmh_Dn1omeEWMQAJWFDSvp5w6Ta9NL_7-YsYrpajgx1M7OIWK84yr6RbBDI7cV_0dwLJnUhave7l5-NX4DDBw8E6dTuaReA0tthzAyXgnucAixUv5KJL6LqyeiaiNMSpxmcteG-1E/s1600/yellow+bog+iris+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTnkQmh_Dn1omeEWMQAJWFDSvp5w6Ta9NL_7-YsYrpajgx1M7OIWK84yr6RbBDI7cV_0dwLJnUhave7l5-NX4DDBw8E6dTuaReA0tthzAyXgnucAixUv5KJL6LqyeiaiNMSpxmcteG-1E/s320/yellow+bog+iris+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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A farm buddy down the road gave me a five gallon bucket load of yellow bog iris (Iris pseudacorus) from his field two years ago. Considered an invasive pest in many areas, these were planted in the "it won't hold water pond" fro whence they are unlikely to escape. Bless his heart, Warren has since died after a valiant battle with cancer - his iris will remind me of our friendship year after year. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpxvgOstTSC1fCyJaXkJIw-j8kIYLbXWUXn2fSGoLRYt4DczT7PM-45aKbcmZvKNIDGrTvjYhRXFk4WpP9wXkm31WpP2FEeAQpzAF4DQJXVZhMe2d3duZmbj66TD0yOdRQomOEL9yvkw/s1600/riding+mower+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpxvgOstTSC1fCyJaXkJIw-j8kIYLbXWUXn2fSGoLRYt4DczT7PM-45aKbcmZvKNIDGrTvjYhRXFk4WpP9wXkm31WpP2FEeAQpzAF4DQJXVZhMe2d3duZmbj66TD0yOdRQomOEL9yvkw/s320/riding+mower+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a>The grasses and attendant weeds are also thriving. After lubricating every grease fitting on the riding mower, it is back in service for the season. Although carrying the Sears brand, it was made by Husqvarna and has been a durable performer under difficult conditions here on the steep landscape. Its main use is around the house, under trees, and on slopes too steep to safely take the big tractor. The wee spreader is handy for applying lime and fertilizer in spot applications.<br />
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The Yanmar continues to exceed expectations. The underbelly mower was lubricated, belt checked and remounted tot he tractor (you cannot plow snow with it mounted). Theoretically it is a mower, not a bush hog, but it will whack a fair sized locust with aplomb. <br />
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The seedlings are rocketing upward. About five hours were spent yesterday in transplanting wee seedlings i their Jiffy-Pots into 4" pots.<br />
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Summer is just around the corner - what will it bring? Wet? Dry? Hot or cold? Or a real surprise, might it be normal?<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-7830505570515628722016-05-04T14:05:00.001-04:002016-05-04T14:25:58.122-04:00Daily Deluge<b><span style="font-size: small;">"In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four-and-twenty hours."</span></b> Mark Twain, speech delivered at the New England Society's Seventy-First Annual Dinner, New York City, Dec. 22, 1876.<br />
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The National Weather Service in Blacksburg (Virginia) announced that our area was in the first stages of a drought just ten days ago. April was exceptionally dry in a month when spring rains are more typical. After a cold beginning, the month became unseasonably warm. The one exceptional night of 21F (-6C) produced widespread damage on Stratheden's flora. Even the grass in the pastures had growing tips killed. Several small trees that I planted 3-6 years ago and were flourishing had all their brand new leaves frozen. All looked bleak but in the last week, it appears all chlorophyll laden residents of the farm, large and small, have recovered without long term damage. Perhaps the hay yield will be normal.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNgJAAHS_ECPjxPKneupCVt3Uxpil0I_Vm3SRfiGE3Fw4cTj_UknE7aTZ99bfnYUj0VIpKErwsl6oUS_08RrZVzqvN-j8jPZBfjPsQIQcxf57STm1AjCz596sxdugsPtUUyMHTfvYdoI/s1600/frozen+baby+tree+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNgJAAHS_ECPjxPKneupCVt3Uxpil0I_Vm3SRfiGE3Fw4cTj_UknE7aTZ99bfnYUj0VIpKErwsl6oUS_08RrZVzqvN-j8jPZBfjPsQIQcxf57STm1AjCz596sxdugsPtUUyMHTfvYdoI/s320/frozen+baby+tree+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">freeze damaged Golden Rain tree (Koelreuteria paniculata)</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmrRplxLqRJSlYPI2X9bvXNvxXXOklesu9r9ohXyxhXNSIgOM6sWh6K3HJo32tOW6Hrqkl9qji8rjnrDeC7htjDZWLAYxpsjbSj3znR4qnO8ovZQ1a5YXY-ZTmewCnnUhb_9jAf4bkO4/s1600/wee+sprouts+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmrRplxLqRJSlYPI2X9bvXNvxXXOklesu9r9ohXyxhXNSIgOM6sWh6K3HJo32tOW6Hrqkl9qji8rjnrDeC7htjDZWLAYxpsjbSj3znR4qnO8ovZQ1a5YXY-ZTmewCnnUhb_9jAf4bkO4/s200/wee+sprouts+LR.jpg" width="200" /></a>My wonderful neighbor came by several weeks ago with his tractor mounted tiller and in about 15 minutes, turned all of the large garden. After letting it remain fallow for all of 2015, the weeds and grass roots were sufficiently large and strong as to choke the small tiller. My deepest thanks to him for saving me a couple of days of hard hand labor. The next step in the large garden is to replace the deer fencing which was damaged badly last winter, presumably by wildlife. Ten 9 foot T-posts await being pounded in to reinforce the extant posts. once that is complete, new deer fencing must be raised. Then, once the area is protected, seedlings may be set and seeds (pumpkins and squash) may be planted. The small garden is about 50% planted with the remaining area awaiting seedlings maturing in peat pots becoming large enough to transplant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">leading edge of the storm</td></tr>
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The farm and flower garden are in bloom. The drought seemed to be slowing the maturity of wild plants but last Saturday, the drought broke dramatically with 1.7 inches of rain, followed by a like amount on Monday. Suddenly, the ground went from being powdery dry to gooey mud. A week ago, my concern was whether garden seeds would germinate due to lack of moisture (the 75F days were otherwise perfect for germination); now the concern is whether they will damp off or drown (tomorrow's high is forecast to be only 51F, too cold for almost any seeds to germinate). As Grandfather Field said, farmers are never content with conditions.<br />
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Springtime tasks include tractor maintenance (especially greasing fittings) and the change of accoutrements. After a final pass at grading the driveway to repair the vagaries of winter's influence, the blade is now safely tucked away in the barn, hopefully for the season, replaced by the E Z Lift (the entire swap process without mashing a single finger). With it in place, it can be used in lieu of a ladder to stand on whilst pounding in the T-posts. Much more convenient (and safe) than a step ladder on uneven, soft ground.<br />
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And a sample of what is currently blooming around Stratheden Farms:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7b2zu12n-GBFtnp2J0wkRqPTmOf47txvOvFRkcnHQU5bnL4IvCLlXkxSDEwkssGNXa3pWtCZHNn1QwIPRVGVKao2jF-otnESq4OcVq_VgSl6IHP8iaE5cMgzHKI011CmBGAfi9Id7tk/s1600/Clematis+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7b2zu12n-GBFtnp2J0wkRqPTmOf47txvOvFRkcnHQU5bnL4IvCLlXkxSDEwkssGNXa3pWtCZHNn1QwIPRVGVKao2jF-otnESq4OcVq_VgSl6IHP8iaE5cMgzHKI011CmBGAfi9Id7tk/s320/Clematis+LR.jpg" width="201" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clematis on the patio</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxd-eREVqlW6OZP-ybCt9agQhELos8szHYPa103IaJROmg6TskncR1Efdn7qvZWxpYLknhZkxBn-edktvchqULKubT1v-i3W6n9OE6p9TnJMKVkIhtIFY1_0bF1S_b6T2hUKgLI8AIEwA/s1600/Gernanium+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxd-eREVqlW6OZP-ybCt9agQhELos8szHYPa103IaJROmg6TskncR1Efdn7qvZWxpYLknhZkxBn-edktvchqULKubT1v-i3W6n9OE6p9TnJMKVkIhtIFY1_0bF1S_b6T2hUKgLI8AIEwA/s320/Gernanium+LR.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cranesbill geranium</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJW65sNZFqkmWtf_EXYAbDNHFtsaZnPSljYYCSmBErn9wAMfQQLl8dCNfA-sKDjXXVV1VKzHa-o5cLe5Cr41JPUpnaxY3rOfnkCXqAbu9ifdcpZTohcBV3Ym9OQfCGCobni8bCY-sYFU/s1600/IMG_6850+copy+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJW65sNZFqkmWtf_EXYAbDNHFtsaZnPSljYYCSmBErn9wAMfQQLl8dCNfA-sKDjXXVV1VKzHa-o5cLe5Cr41JPUpnaxY3rOfnkCXqAbu9ifdcpZTohcBV3Ym9OQfCGCobni8bCY-sYFU/s320/IMG_6850+copy+LR.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia Sneezeweed?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fire Pink</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five blooms on one stalk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOYRW6qFpdfIoeR3VmRMX2Zg30RUeGzXkrJuTR-2rdZQsKNWeKtucAJE2vVR2TYI1CfsWFINMD6zXYp3_OYQXnZtTp5PC8kLbnZbBSHbX3zTgCxrGfoL9U9fgl_lCPuWqiJbgstl-Ips/s1600/Iris+II+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOYRW6qFpdfIoeR3VmRMX2Zg30RUeGzXkrJuTR-2rdZQsKNWeKtucAJE2vVR2TYI1CfsWFINMD6zXYp3_OYQXnZtTp5PC8kLbnZbBSHbX3zTgCxrGfoL9U9fgl_lCPuWqiJbgstl-Ips/s320/Iris+II+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This iris is the size of my hand!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peonies ready to burst with blooms</td></tr>
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-71636115265422978632016-04-14T08:06:00.000-04:002016-04-17T18:49:14.082-04:00Small Miracles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyO29XJsIGN_0vENeW9lDHTlU7rbMx-abr7mwtkY4Hh8WZfTMDWuMd_X2lIKkd0lq-MFI_tYPe2dKbNYDRRkz3UdGEUAWNd91NdYYZWfePKQXplWBnxbIfhTS4FUNzWmmbexdwNeIIME8/s1600/Girlie+about+to+burst+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyO29XJsIGN_0vENeW9lDHTlU7rbMx-abr7mwtkY4Hh8WZfTMDWuMd_X2lIKkd0lq-MFI_tYPe2dKbNYDRRkz3UdGEUAWNd91NdYYZWfePKQXplWBnxbIfhTS4FUNzWmmbexdwNeIIME8/s320/Girlie+about+to+burst+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a>On this day in 2009, one of those small miracles of life on Planet Earth happened in the bedroom, much to the relief of Gypsy Girlie who was at the point of bursting. She was in great discomfort for more than a week before giving birth; she moaned frequently and it was heartbreaking to hear, knowing there was no way to ameliorate her pain.<br />
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She had come to the farm late one cold afternoon in February, so scrawny it wasn't clear she would survive. What she knew, and no one else did, was she was pregnant. For weeks she downed kibbles like there was no tomorrow, gaining weight until her figure was normal - but still she chowed down. She grew larger and larger until everyone realized she was soon to be a mother. On April 14th, over about five hours, she gave birth to five kittens, three females and two males, four orange and one dark smoke. They were christened Buster, Fred, Beatrice, Annie and Tadpole. Poor Girlie was thoroughly exhausted.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Q-gZGwEobd1upTGZPwAEj2rd5UD3XX3yyvcwDwtvnM6sB2ajWu8c-RRO5KsDBCaika0tgsZ8vEojFPmUe7XMc-OVP5PW1zrrJDL20OTYotv1LsZl8a84gG4gEWxqWLPsbnLH2qemK7o/s1600/Girl+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Q-gZGwEobd1upTGZPwAEj2rd5UD3XX3yyvcwDwtvnM6sB2ajWu8c-RRO5KsDBCaika0tgsZ8vEojFPmUe7XMc-OVP5PW1zrrJDL20OTYotv1LsZl8a84gG4gEWxqWLPsbnLH2qemK7o/s320/Girl+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a>Not all at Stratheden Farm celebrated; MommaKat and her sons, Chet and Grover, were clearly traumatized by the additions. The three of them were still recovering from the shock of moving from a desert to a lush farmland just a few months earlier and this was almost too much.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_13a1G4Ak6YhjxHYh_hIZ1eR3KnvZZvijziXJyHmZ9-AYPpReRREmADJsTXLXP61ZeTg2_p7_jl0-R3lMuyQ_rIagR2YxedtZozJ15cqLbAAS5hV7IWP6WN4RGNkeiNCvEAzE5JKHb0c/s1600/bea+almost+still+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_13a1G4Ak6YhjxHYh_hIZ1eR3KnvZZvijziXJyHmZ9-AYPpReRREmADJsTXLXP61ZeTg2_p7_jl0-R3lMuyQ_rIagR2YxedtZozJ15cqLbAAS5hV7IWP6WN4RGNkeiNCvEAzE5JKHb0c/s320/bea+almost+still+LR.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beatrice</td></tr>
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As the kittens grew, the plan was to find homes for most, if not all. But then there was a problem - Mr Fuzzy was getting terribly attached to them. One family with a little sandy-haired daughter came to see if she might like one. The answer was definite - she only interacted with Tadpole and she already had a new name picked out. It was clear this was a stable, loving family, so Tadpole went to her new home with them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4hL3tJEp8l2zXuxf6gtY7Rm_NZfKxiZnE5nwWklThg9oBMzNdVvxMIf7lpcMR2eaGFm7xGL9AxXC6KF6n338RDT6MSsdcCOjv53nkuzA0pYZWeupeZROjyc368pdw5d3qrDFcLH3Jn0/s1600/a+tweedle+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4hL3tJEp8l2zXuxf6gtY7Rm_NZfKxiZnE5nwWklThg9oBMzNdVvxMIf7lpcMR2eaGFm7xGL9AxXC6KF6n338RDT6MSsdcCOjv53nkuzA0pYZWeupeZROjyc368pdw5d3qrDFcLH3Jn0/s200/a+tweedle+LR.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fred Tweedle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buster</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, MommaKat and her boys were not kind to Gypsy Girlie and after about six more months, she went to find a new home, just as she had come here. Two of her children, Annie and Fred, inherited her restless. Annie would leave for as long as three months and then come back, apparently no worse for the wear. Fred would wander off for up to a week, especially if I was away for more than a couple of days. Its unlikely someone was feeding them since none of Gypsy Girlie's offspring could digest fish based foods (i.e., normal cat food) without bad side effects. Eventually, Annie left and never returned. Fred's wandering was mitigated by someone/something breaking his pelvis four summers ago; he's been a homebody ever since, much to my relief.<br />
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The veterinarian first saw the kitties at two months, when their first physical and first inoculations were due. Buster, Fred and Bea were past three standard deviations on the weight chart. Dr. McGrath wanted to know what they were being fed! Annie and Tadpole were much more typical in size. Buster weighs about 19 pounds, Fred about 17. Being a female, Bea will not disclose her weight but she is a big gal. None of the three have any fat; they're big boned and muscular felines, predators of the first degree.<br />
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For the last three years, Bea has slept with me every night. Fred usually spends a portion of the night sleeping on the bed - it may be that my loud snoring disturbs his sleep. Buster usually indulges in cat naps on the bed during the day, along with Bea, both trying to lure me into a brief nap; sometimes they succeed. Along with JackTar, they are better companions than most canines. I am so thankful for their love and companionship.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Bea, Fred and Buster!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buster</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bea on her pillow</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fred on his throne</td></tr>
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Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-54277976825306734952016-04-12T08:13:00.001-04:002016-04-12T18:30:11.362-04:00A Cents of CommunityFloyd takes care of its own, in exemplary ways. Last weekend, there were two good times which raised monies for good causes: the annual Empty Bowls and a special very local dinner.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7-9E8qshgSp_xPkzfwnV4DjOWS9M3jy6MEH419lspG5upNK5glNraYUqn9e5R74-dHVCsoz-WRRMk442PI3x3ZklrW0zV4mZTFFe7kofp23PT0WstwSBbPPrxHwzXtth0EZInEU2zdA/s1600/bowls+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7-9E8qshgSp_xPkzfwnV4DjOWS9M3jy6MEH419lspG5upNK5glNraYUqn9e5R74-dHVCsoz-WRRMk442PI3x3ZklrW0zV4mZTFFe7kofp23PT0WstwSBbPPrxHwzXtth0EZInEU2zdA/s320/bowls+LR.jpg" width="196" /></a>Empty Bowls is an long standing project by local potters and soup chefs to raise money for a very deserving cause - hungry children in the community. For $20, you select a stoneware bowl made by a local potter and then select a gourmet soup to fill it (I chose West African Peanut Soup). The proceeds allow school kids to be sent home on Friday with a backpack of food so they will not go hungry over the weekend. Hundreds of people attend raising thousands of dollars. There is also a silent auction with locally crafted items. Yours truly was fortunate to be the high bidder on a set of fancy nesting Shaker boxes by local artisan Don George.<br />
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The other fund raiser was for a neighbor, right down my road, just eighteen years old, who needs a liver transplant. Various forms of insurance will pay for most of the direct medical costs but the family is below the poverty line and this money will pay for the numerous out of state trips to hospitals and allow the family to stay in a nearby motel while Kaytie has her surgery and recuperates. It was held at the Falling Branch Methodist Church, conveniently located at the end of the road, with singing upstairs in the church and dinner downstairs in the basement. It was a fine opportunity to visit with neighbors, eat some home cooked cuisine and just plain have a old-fashioned sort of good time. There was a silent auction here, too, and Mr. Fuzzy brought home a loaf of sourdough bread and a pecan-caramel cake. Those notoriously tight farmers donated over $5,000 for the family's needs. Charity begins at home and you couldn't get closer to home than this; God bless them all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMz6UBqx-oFLSvc32IWub-i7xBtCdmlwVCq6TePWqauHxc5YqK5DWwxpebZ1CrzoEhUG3JmIe5jUJ8GDp6YKANYKfwR3MgtBmQo-2X2FvqMKZ0pID-DqF2SOutiGPzWrsrOnLmYtiGHyE/s1600/supper+lr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMz6UBqx-oFLSvc32IWub-i7xBtCdmlwVCq6TePWqauHxc5YqK5DWwxpebZ1CrzoEhUG3JmIe5jUJ8GDp6YKANYKfwR3MgtBmQo-2X2FvqMKZ0pID-DqF2SOutiGPzWrsrOnLmYtiGHyE/s320/supper+lr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0TnapacvcrS6T76iVeV5z_RF_pzk2gsYZLweD_RgHsGOo1lOi8N1rFVk7dBx_e0DiUiJwhD4VPXHpOyoNdolItjXtwRMlIo3n7IyeQTLAqKYaO43DQ7v6JqtDJSbLDFB7Qi3E4KUlK0/s1600/Sweets+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0TnapacvcrS6T76iVeV5z_RF_pzk2gsYZLweD_RgHsGOo1lOi8N1rFVk7dBx_e0DiUiJwhD4VPXHpOyoNdolItjXtwRMlIo3n7IyeQTLAqKYaO43DQ7v6JqtDJSbLDFB7Qi3E4KUlK0/s320/Sweets+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-49634621271877418032016-04-06T17:37:00.002-04:002016-04-06T17:38:50.590-04:00Winter - Spring - Winter - Spring - ?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmyT9eyaD_A-0QX5poQX2Y5l2ipfU7F1R6rLnSLNqP11rc8CxB5snQx95Kl2CFCl-V8w0fLtL7ZgToP_5HF3i51bWufbMbMseieWMPNVFe7nLz0gV4qHtCLjZ8q2H4wa2t0JBBMyDT0A/s1600/Redbud+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmyT9eyaD_A-0QX5poQX2Y5l2ipfU7F1R6rLnSLNqP11rc8CxB5snQx95Kl2CFCl-V8w0fLtL7ZgToP_5HF3i51bWufbMbMseieWMPNVFe7nLz0gV4qHtCLjZ8q2H4wa2t0JBBMyDT0A/s400/Redbud+LR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eastern Redbud</td></tr>
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"And if I belonged <i>in</i> this place it was because I belonged <i>to </i>it. And I began to understand that so long as I did not know this place fully, or even adequately, I belonged to this place only partially. That summer, I began to see, however dimly, that one of my ambitions, perhaps my
governing ambition, was to belong fully to this place, to belong as the
thrushes and the herons and the muskrats belonged, to be altogether at
home here. That is still my ambition. I have made myself entirely willing to be governed by it. But I have now come to see that it proposes an enormous labor. It is a spiritual ambition, like goodness. The wild
creatures belong to the place by nature, but as a man I can belong to it
only by understanding and by virtue. It is an ambition I cannot hope to succeed in wholly, but I have come to believe it is the most worthy of all."<br />
Kentucky author Wendell Berry, <b>The Long-Legged House</b>, page 169.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbNMRt_DJm2tAnpiYuRMGTwKFnijpurdcRdDNtWfr5YXYIhiHV2LnCcY1IwD8FyVnaYBvOuexCwI23Ucl4Z4EGSy8ObiHuIup-_SNiEQ8TVRiWLfubS296C0PexarjEC_VvD4zoy52CI/s1600/bloodroot+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbNMRt_DJm2tAnpiYuRMGTwKFnijpurdcRdDNtWfr5YXYIhiHV2LnCcY1IwD8FyVnaYBvOuexCwI23Ucl4Z4EGSy8ObiHuIup-_SNiEQ8TVRiWLfubS296C0PexarjEC_VvD4zoy52CI/s320/bloodroot+LR.jpg" width="102" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bloodroot</td></tr>
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From The National Weather Service today: " By the weekend...we will see temperatures 15 to 20 degrees below
normal...which equates to a hard freeze. Freezing temperatures are
expected each morning S<span class="text_exposed_show">aturday, Sunday,
and Monday...and Sunday morning we are looking at lows in the teens in
the mountains and 20s elsewhere! That is really cold for April!!!
And...there will even be snow showers in the mountains..."</span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Its hard to speak for the fauna but the farm's flora are certainly confused about timing their flowers and leaves because of the wild swings in the temperatures here. Monday the high was 70F, sixteen hours later, the sunrise temperature was 28F. This morning it was dead still and 29F, which killed the just opened leaves of some trees. The peonies have rocketed up from the ground in the last few days and are certainly very tender. If the forecast is correct, it will plunge to 24F (-4C) Saturday night. Every bucket and empty flower pot on the farm will be inverted to cover peonies, hydrangea, dicentra, day lilies, rudbeckia, columbine, roses, etc., with hopes of no lasting damage. </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show">The entire winter was a chaotic mix of unusually warm and unusually cold weather, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. Nonetheless, there seems to have been relatively little winter damage and some flowering trees, especially the cherries and eastern redbuds, are extraordinary in their floral displays now. There have been winds of sufficient strength to bowl over highway signs but thus far, the flowers and trees have been tenacious enough to retain their glory.</span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show">Here are flowers from around the farm, taken this week. Enjoy.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmrmDj0ZWig594r2VkoGQ3wJyqP6PnskgYQ_L8n4H1_ikzzylVZ4GG5cCgkb6FTqREkhjk_tPU-E8UU8ExuprGMOeMrxhJ0sqYPYf_XTC0d7b4BeZhlGlAFZr6NX3pbo-VzcZ_MUaf-Y/s1600/Cherry+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmrmDj0ZWig594r2VkoGQ3wJyqP6PnskgYQ_L8n4H1_ikzzylVZ4GG5cCgkb6FTqREkhjk_tPU-E8UU8ExuprGMOeMrxhJ0sqYPYf_XTC0d7b4BeZhlGlAFZr6NX3pbo-VzcZ_MUaf-Y/s320/Cherry+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherry</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Xd6gE3AyeZUwpnb-T8T8rs7O-nTal7jYDoXZtIwAuPiqlZB7miVnrlF63C1CWvONRNxfEs2HpIJLjNnGaMQhT1DX20k_o_ouD61w-NoCp9uGH8h3hFf_IbEYwoXWdI6CmtXkz7FP0yo/s1600/glechoma+hederacea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Xd6gE3AyeZUwpnb-T8T8rs7O-nTal7jYDoXZtIwAuPiqlZB7miVnrlF63C1CWvONRNxfEs2HpIJLjNnGaMQhT1DX20k_o_ouD61w-NoCp9uGH8h3hFf_IbEYwoXWdI6CmtXkz7FP0yo/s320/glechoma+hederacea.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLX7XmvIF_0Lkg118TnwP_IyuNQXgQUeutjlTlJZ_oUD7CaAPF9mPPGVc1aLWOQWjU98S1dUw8lSBqaiSyIWSSKYtYFzrZEmnEZSOIjVGhF-XXTTP8lV9hcQ0FLx4SUZAVwEK_39vHBso/s1600/Lilac+buds+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLX7XmvIF_0Lkg118TnwP_IyuNQXgQUeutjlTlJZ_oUD7CaAPF9mPPGVc1aLWOQWjU98S1dUw8lSBqaiSyIWSSKYtYFzrZEmnEZSOIjVGhF-XXTTP8lV9hcQ0FLx4SUZAVwEK_39vHBso/s320/Lilac+buds+LR.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lilac about to open</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-CmKsCUC5PEV3ajaTnad3QEr_jR7OP-3gRLzl3bswJKQIjWyYdcuJN0uT6obewnNrvcn69dbGB-BsiT5n5z9jepK_i2nMbcOjzwboVl_-pDh-PdUUtA59dBXpoNKKeu4yFQ_7U0mXlQ/s1600/red+dogwood+lr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-CmKsCUC5PEV3ajaTnad3QEr_jR7OP-3gRLzl3bswJKQIjWyYdcuJN0uT6obewnNrvcn69dbGB-BsiT5n5z9jepK_i2nMbcOjzwboVl_-pDh-PdUUtA59dBXpoNKKeu4yFQ_7U0mXlQ/s320/red+dogwood+lr.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Redbud</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvbIO85fyJ5wnIe5J_JbW9zUbHNTdVsPq7U9kg89c6ol6VpVXC0KOjQkTQ80MyAG4Qu-RM1jihPaIkNvbvg0OH7ZUgUwO_JFG5ZIWJfIu1gdyUJD5CpEuoSFeCu6NUyQ8JSFReSqHpoI/s1600/Viburnum+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvbIO85fyJ5wnIe5J_JbW9zUbHNTdVsPq7U9kg89c6ol6VpVXC0KOjQkTQ80MyAG4Qu-RM1jihPaIkNvbvg0OH7ZUgUwO_JFG5ZIWJfIu1gdyUJD5CpEuoSFeCu6NUyQ8JSFReSqHpoI/s320/Viburnum+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Viburnum</td></tr>
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<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span>Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-45269665994034461232016-03-23T13:13:00.000-04:002016-06-10T07:18:24.575-04:00Facts and Fotography<i>Nota Bene:</i> this is a post with nothing to do with Stratheden Farms but a rant/whine about the current state of photography. You may wish to return to your regular channel now. <br />
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Brother of another mother and my photographic mentor, Tillman Crane, passed through Stratheden Farms recently and, as always, there was some amount of lamentation regarding what passes for <i>fine art photography</i> these days, both what hangs on art institution's walls and what is published in magazines and books. My thinking was further sharpened & stimulated that same day by a brief visit from Bill Moretz, Virginia photographer extraordinaire and repository of encyclopedic knowledge about photographic equipment. Their presence reminded me that although learning from the internet is viable <u>alternative</u>, it is a poor substitute for learning from a live expert with decades of priceless experience. Reading a few web sites may impart some facts but not wisdom.<br />
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With this in mind, your humble author begs leave to bring your attention to two texts viewed on the internet this week.<br />
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On an old student's (who is now a major photo-editor) Facebook page, one of his contacts wrote: <span style="color: red;">"_____, do you know where I can take a photoshop class. I may start
teaching a digital photography class with photoshop. All I know is from
playing. I think a real class will help me. Thanks." <span style="color: black;">About 35 years ago, my friend Ted Rice neatly labelled this the "take a class - teach a class" syndrome (in reference to a student who had taken Ted's platinum printing classes and was now advertising his own "Master Class" workshops in Texas a few months later). The temerity of people to believe that taking one class on a complex technology will enable them to know the subject well enough to teach it is far beyond my comprehension but it is a common approach. Further, the gullible nature of <i>their</i> students who believe they are receiving quality instruction for their large outlays of money to charlatans.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">From a photographic equipment blog</span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"> with 19,500 followers</span></span>, a writer noted his qualifications, </span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">"</span>I got into photography because of a
camera <span style="color: black;">[duh]</span>. In late 2012, I saw a Yashica Electro 35 ME on a Swiss
auction-website and just wanted it. I didn’t know much about cameras,
photography or film... </span><span style="color: red;">Over the next year I bought about ten different cameras." <span style="color: black;">He aspired to someday have a darkroom and learn to develop film & make his own prints. Three years later, </span><span style="color: black;">he was an expert on cameras made about the time he was born... obviously a much faster learner than your current author. Get real, kid, other people read the same blogs that 'informed' your posts. Exposing a couple of dozen rolls of film makes you a rank amateur with aspirations, not an expert. Talk to me after you shoot three or four hundred rolls or have worn out a camera or two - then I may find your blether worthy of notice.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">You are far too many to enumerate but this is the proper place to acknowledge those who, over my 50 years in photography, have freely imparted their hard-won knowledge to a not-always-worthy student. It all began with industrial photographer Charlie Manion, 17 November 1966 [more on that on 17 November 2016's post]. Thank you for your devotion to the art of photography, my friends, and your dedication to perpetuating it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">P.S.: It is edifying to learn that the object formerly termed "film camera" when I used one, is now "analog hardware." </span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOq6dWjT_GNPiW_r2sLlJLO4jWpcPzdclDQosbWA10mNO47A_c9FAOxh_6z8BGPl9ZqzK93mPbb2fMwhMFCAe8pzcbOQyrHMp4Akw583x05j1VzeBXAcKvcYqkhcqQSi8PwOME7GBW2UU/s1600/Hollywood+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOq6dWjT_GNPiW_r2sLlJLO4jWpcPzdclDQosbWA10mNO47A_c9FAOxh_6z8BGPl9ZqzK93mPbb2fMwhMFCAe8pzcbOQyrHMp4Akw583x05j1VzeBXAcKvcYqkhcqQSi8PwOME7GBW2UU/s400/Hollywood+LR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">made with a c. 1958 Mamiya Six Automat camera</td></tr>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span>Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-102839304381043982016-03-16T18:05:00.001-04:002016-03-16T18:05:55.629-04:00ToastyThe toasty temperatures have continued. The table below, from the Blacksburg office of the National Weather Service, illustrates how extraordinary this trend has been. Alas, over the coming weekend, a cold front will overrun the land and perhaps snow will fall on Sunday. Today it hit 75F on the farm under a brilliant, unimpaired sun.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFk-ImS1wOBQHs9KNp1fdi-__cXMyGQWJW-B82FATA0WmaNfq0dW1S49iw83BjuXu4lV818b4z_5BrijuJRoMIxRE8xUKmCL2MLEzmVCWmaMRJ9IfenfhVNMjunNFy0Q9tbnLYkgF7ubw/s1600/Roanoke+heat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFk-ImS1wOBQHs9KNp1fdi-__cXMyGQWJW-B82FATA0WmaNfq0dW1S49iw83BjuXu4lV818b4z_5BrijuJRoMIxRE8xUKmCL2MLEzmVCWmaMRJ9IfenfhVNMjunNFy0Q9tbnLYkgF7ubw/s400/Roanoke+heat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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"and in other news..."<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FaC7CMmIlo39_GW1Nfl2POWsk2gpslqih_y4Li3cBq36_YxtEA_sA9v7456kusxFSd0J0K9yz3yQeGbrfy53NlgbkcnltzrPCecUglvh_t7QwEeKcNfIuie3Ltarn976EXzO3P0c8II/s1600/Porch+camera+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FaC7CMmIlo39_GW1Nfl2POWsk2gpslqih_y4Li3cBq36_YxtEA_sA9v7456kusxFSd0J0K9yz3yQeGbrfy53NlgbkcnltzrPCecUglvh_t7QwEeKcNfIuie3Ltarn976EXzO3P0c8II/s320/Porch+camera+020.jpg" width="286" /></a>Sleep cycles get stranger and stranger as you age and sound, deep sleep seems a bygone concept, at least on a regular basis. Out here in the country, sounds such as coyotes celebrating a kill only 75 yards from the window is scarcely a lullaby. Worse, when the dogs go screaming yellow zonkers at 2;10 a.m., and although you expected to find Freddie Krueger at the door, no cause could be detected. The adrenaline burns off in an hour or so and perhaps a fitful sleep returns. Now, imagine if you will, this happening three consecutive nights. Ghosts? Boggles? A trail camera mounted on a porch post the fourth night revealed the answer:<br />
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And other causes of insomnia:<br />
The following night Rufus the Dogge woke me up about 2:00 a.m. (what is it about 2:00?), a little distressed by something, clearly not needing to go to the bathroom... then I heard it, that piercing electronic BEEEEEP from downstairs. Oh crap, the carbon monoxide alarm! Opened a couple of bedroom windows, took a deep breath, skittered down the stairs, threw open two doors then looked at the detector, which has a readout of ppm of CO. But instead of a number, it showed ERR. Error? Alright, punch the reset. ERR. Off to the internet for the solution... or, if my bleary eyes had been more able to focus, the words on the back of the detector: "Seven years after the initial power up, this unit will 'chirp' every 30 seconds to indicate that it is time to replace the alarm."<br />
<img alt="Kidde KN-COPP-3 Nighthawk Plug-In Carbon Monoxide Alarm with Battery Backup and Digital Display" class="a-dynamic-image a-stretch-vertical" data-a-dynamic-image="{"http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SX466_.jpg":[466,466],"http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SX425_.jpg":[425,425],"http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SY355_.jpg":[355,355],"http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SX522_.jpg":[522,522],"http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SY450_.jpg":[450,450]}" data-old-hires="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SL1000_.jpg" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61310nzIeAL._SX522_.jpg" id="landingImage" style="max-height: 522px; max-width: 522px;" /><br />
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It is my most earnest hope, dear reader, that your nights are spent in deep and restful sleep. I have a vague recollection of that state.<br />
<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-23786048791236716242016-03-12T08:00:00.000-05:002016-03-12T08:04:46.893-05:00When you're hot, you're hot!<br />
Here are the official high <u>minimum</u> temperatures for the cities in the local national weather service's area. Roanoke broke the prior record high by 11 degrees, unreal. This surely has an end but not in the next week. The normal last frost on Stratheden Farm has proven to be in mid-May, eight weeks hence, so some restraint must be applied to budding horticultural ambitions. Despite the odds, however, in a burst of unsupportable optimism, a few zinnia seeds were scattered in a large planter on the patio; when seasonal temperatures return, the large pot may be rolled into the solarium until the cold snap has passed - with any luck, there will be flowers beatifying the deck weeks earlier than any prior year.<br />
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<img alt="" class="spotlight" src="https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfl1/v/t1.0-9/12814450_1044624758929793_4763267527130519791_n.png?oh=4757d48844ebb197b4716b698192673d&oe=57894613" style="height: 163px; width: 385px;" /><br />
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The effects of these prolonged unnaturally warm & sunny days (and nights) are easily seen on the farm. Some forsythia are in bloom, the daffodils are just blooming their little heads off, the clematis are showing new leaves, the tulips are rocketing skyward, all but a couple of the day lilies are soaring toward the sun.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GfXE8DGkrOewohN36l2-FE28GQYivV2PEHPXsJxzJP_-hSXeowHGWHdZiy439ihVj9n-rXBF1rOJ1c6CsuY9009WhvBsm7RuUYkwg1zVc4vpVbPZaMte6V4Oc31475Li032Tvw3u8Pc/s1600/tulips+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GfXE8DGkrOewohN36l2-FE28GQYivV2PEHPXsJxzJP_-hSXeowHGWHdZiy439ihVj9n-rXBF1rOJ1c6CsuY9009WhvBsm7RuUYkwg1zVc4vpVbPZaMte6V4Oc31475Li032Tvw3u8Pc/s320/tulips+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tulips</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh258gqTH1mvOdyISMZMdBAvmXOpdHyEDFHQhhPNF5qEDClJs91TNajV-aF16h3dJu9t4MWf12It0KHw9cne9tva7qVsLJ9FdHSO1Z9FQZv6wEwOn30tyob3VlXCsSF5jijtkivUbHI3Ps/s1600/daffy+family+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh258gqTH1mvOdyISMZMdBAvmXOpdHyEDFHQhhPNF5qEDClJs91TNajV-aF16h3dJu9t4MWf12It0KHw9cne9tva7qVsLJ9FdHSO1Z9FQZv6wEwOn30tyob3VlXCsSF5jijtkivUbHI3Ps/s320/daffy+family+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daffodils</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_KKYQqWPU-0-bNj1Cd56RBQjEJoMIwJV8ZAzDiSHQivRBTRno0vo6XUI4NkhKYmulFaea5kjwKLga0VxJRpNCKTzLfnE2VX0TM0Xqgksl6JM34vZrFjDiv5oWJS1R_CDsK441jzzYMVY/s1600/day+lilies+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_KKYQqWPU-0-bNj1Cd56RBQjEJoMIwJV8ZAzDiSHQivRBTRno0vo6XUI4NkhKYmulFaea5kjwKLga0VxJRpNCKTzLfnE2VX0TM0Xqgksl6JM34vZrFjDiv5oWJS1R_CDsK441jzzYMVY/s320/day+lilies+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day lilies and a few Rudbeckia</td></tr>
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If the desirable plants are all breaking their long slumber, you know that the weeds are as well. Mr. Fuzzy wrestled the 17" Husqvarna tiller down to the small garden after spending two full days clearing the detritus of prior occupation from it (read: chicken wire, baling wire, cut up pasture panels [missed one and wrapped it around the tiller tines], surveyor's stakes, old windows, old screens, 55 gallon drum, all enough for three trips to the dump and a fourth load of nine bundles of white wooden-wired picket fence ready to go). The purpose of this tilling was two fold: first, to work in the winter's fireplace ashes and second, the discourage the sprouting weeds. The weeds, if left to their own devices, would be so well established by May planting time that they would be very difficult to eliminate. Hopefully they are set back significantly after receiving this thorough thrashing!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVKq0p-Ad40YiKypbs2hnrAYuuFiXQaKl0AFor6_fytv2xau9ErxNZG6Eu-2sS3q5G6qKyIQnVvbNRbflvYgkzYVxTkxLeofq5UDbXGiIr649RmAjsAzdBYJkaOFZ0GuO_JNq2zl18T4/s1600/tilled+garden+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVKq0p-Ad40YiKypbs2hnrAYuuFiXQaKl0AFor6_fytv2xau9ErxNZG6Eu-2sS3q5G6qKyIQnVvbNRbflvYgkzYVxTkxLeofq5UDbXGiIr649RmAjsAzdBYJkaOFZ0GuO_JNq2zl18T4/s320/tilled+garden+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Enough talking dirt - until the next time.<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-44167908735348487002016-03-09T10:06:00.000-05:002016-03-10T10:03:26.531-05:00Its Official - Spring has Sprung"The Spring advances very rapidly and all Nature will soon be cloathed in her gayest Robes. The green Grass, which begins to <span title="show">shew</span> itself, here, and there, revives in my longing Imagination my little Farm, and its dear Inhabitants.." John Adams to his dear wife, Abigail, Philadelphia, 15 March 1777 <br />
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Harbingers of Spring have arrived at Stratheden Farm. Crocus can never be trusted - their judgement is too oft flawed as they are hopeless optimists. Native plants, however, are more in tune with a specific location and its eccentricities. The coltsfoot, <span class="st"><i>Tussilago farfara,</i> </span>has begun to bloom; a most unusual plant in that is produces flowers before there are any leaves. Most oddly, this year there are a smattering of leaves simultaneous with the blooms. Even the avian world sayeth Spring has arrived - there were perhaps 15 Robins in a flock on the front of the farm this day scratching for worms and freshly hatched insects.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KHaqbjNzbKU94O1F8JKpfuYRY8X7kR3SdSJiP0eymd8KnkHfvD_KyxkWhoh1sMMC5aMwjwwxLJdq1OzyAqe3wPR1d_e2HYEyYmzm3pMmt4YaTa5oQTp51y1FLNUUv9IsqEndq1mewE0/s1600/Coltsfoot+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KHaqbjNzbKU94O1F8JKpfuYRY8X7kR3SdSJiP0eymd8KnkHfvD_KyxkWhoh1sMMC5aMwjwwxLJdq1OzyAqe3wPR1d_e2HYEyYmzm3pMmt4YaTa5oQTp51y1FLNUUv9IsqEndq1mewE0/s400/Coltsfoot+LR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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After an abnormally wet autumn and winter, along with the welcome relief of days in the 60s or 70s, has also been a respite from precipitation. In the parlance of the vernacular, it is 'time to make hay whilst the sun shineth.'<br />
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Your humble and aching correspondent has been at labor reducing patches of wild roses, blackberries, wineberries, briars and young locusts, a back bending and shoulder wrenching task. The wild roses are just starting to leaf out - and any attempt to
control their wildly invasive natures is predicated on removal - which in turn
must be done while the stems are clearly visible, i.e.., before leaves
obscure. Mr. Fuzzy awoke so sore and stiff today that the bed cats were making bets as to whether he might rise to serve their needs or not. <br />
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A portion of yesterday afternoon was spent engaged with battling the tiller in the small garden. Tillers may be an improvement over the hoe in terms of finely breaking up the soil but they certainly use no less energy on the part of the owner. It is like unto wrestling a small bear who has imbibed too many fermented berries.This preliminary tilling is not so much to prepare the garden for planting in six weeks but to harass the infernal weeds which otherwise would have developed sound root systems by May and be nearly impossible to eradicate as a result.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkEIrWCvyMKuh8TdPZg4iNC3rfEuQPhLSqmfca6fb9hN3TOIyUHikkRD0SOrOSmfxfdcJYAwM-2PbYR5EUBMcxL9we1IC350y0Y7BXcrxiAruXytmluf4FPD6anhKGNjPfSQfU4-w3yU/s1600/daffys+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkEIrWCvyMKuh8TdPZg4iNC3rfEuQPhLSqmfca6fb9hN3TOIyUHikkRD0SOrOSmfxfdcJYAwM-2PbYR5EUBMcxL9we1IC350y0Y7BXcrxiAruXytmluf4FPD6anhKGNjPfSQfU4-w3yU/s320/daffys+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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May your days be filled with the light of the sun, the warmth of the earth and the energy of Spring.<br />
<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-56649632766814986482016-03-08T09:16:00.000-05:002016-03-08T09:16:42.886-05:00The Honourable Company of Horners<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlJWHEaV98qllrPx3Cm-eiEbzL483wbZS5_Y-BE2V9Mx-r2N2Z3OtqVHFoJ9_TWgnbzbhf6eztGs2HvuMuP_MCSUq0GPlGIqZxw5ISXzMMxLGHJrjBgUr_khkEf7zWFVgaAka1JODfkw/s1600/Clinton+Byers+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlJWHEaV98qllrPx3Cm-eiEbzL483wbZS5_Y-BE2V9Mx-r2N2Z3OtqVHFoJ9_TWgnbzbhf6eztGs2HvuMuP_MCSUq0GPlGIqZxw5ISXzMMxLGHJrjBgUr_khkEf7zWFVgaAka1JODfkw/s320/Clinton+Byers+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clinton Byers, journeyman horner</td></tr>
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Twenty years ago, in a cold, dark museum building in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, the first ever conference on horn work was assembled by Roland Cadle. After the conference officially ended, twelve visionaries, huddled near a window for light, decided this should not be a one-shot event but an annual meeting of an organization devoted to those who made objects of horn. Your humble correspondent was elected as the first Guildmaster of the Honourable Company of Horners by those eleven charter members. Last weekend at the U. S. Army Heritage & Education Center in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, the Guild held its twentieth annual meeting with nearly a quarter of the national membership present.<br />
"Band of Brothers" (forgive me, ladies of the Guild) is an apt description of this group. No mater how diverse our interests and political persuasions, there is total unity derived from the strength of the common bond: horn work. This group has achieved tremendous growth and fulfilled every goal it has set, including the publication of a landmark book (and another landmark book on Southern Horns soon to be published). You might want to spend a moment touring their website, www.hornguild.org.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBG9te_AtmbneRi3_LxwJvzPAeJ8WqcTACx_AsvZ3u5m75IVnrOIYAW-wj_WqTJaUeceIuBnQs3_SDarZ_ooX60bgja7CR9jSF6tLViqkMdKEQsntw_1mTICzMcH1YNSq1hqgZ4FlXA8/s1600/DeWald+talk+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBG9te_AtmbneRi3_LxwJvzPAeJ8WqcTACx_AsvZ3u5m75IVnrOIYAW-wj_WqTJaUeceIuBnQs3_SDarZ_ooX60bgja7CR9jSF6tLViqkMdKEQsntw_1mTICzMcH1YNSq1hqgZ4FlXA8/s320/DeWald+talk+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John DeWald delivering his presentation</td></tr>
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One of the prime directives of the Guild is to preserve and further the trade of working horn (almost exclusively bovine horn). Toward that end, there is a hierarchical structure within the Guild of levels of achievement: freeman, journeyman and master. At each step, competency must be demonstrated by showing items that were crafted by the candidate. There are only ten people who have earned the title of Master. The newest is John DeWald, who gave his Master's Talk and submitted his masterpieces for judging at this meeting; those masterpieces have yet again raised the bar for the definition of Masterwork. Congratulations. John.<br />
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For two days each year, this meeting becomes the world's greatest museum of horn work. To further the Guild's directive of education, not only are there continual live demonstrations of appropriate skills, but displays of both historic and contemporary horn work. Jay Hopkins, who is about to complete his definitive <b>Southern Horns, Volume One</b>, displayed some of his incredible collection of Southern horns and illuminated us about them.<br />
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The Guild embraces horn work in its many forms, although powder horns dominate the production. Here is a quill holder and penner by Master Art DeCamp, to illustrate one of the many other uses of horn. <br />
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Not everyone present is a horner; some construct accouterments to horn objects. Here is a photo of leatherworker Jim Dell and amongst his products are straps for carrying a powder horn, and shooting bags, the natural companion of a powder horn in America.<br />
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There was much more to the convention than what has been shown here but perhaps it will give you, my dear reader, an inking of what transpired. A great time was had by all and as we left the facility, most minds were already considering next year's meeting.Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-71357430679638146952016-02-24T19:00:00.000-05:002016-02-24T19:17:31.998-05:00Slogging alongSloggging along in the mud, that is - after an exceptionally wet fall and early winter, there is no let up in the precipitation. Its rained six of the last seven days - have stopped keeping a record of rainfall, its in the "just too much" category now. Walking across the pasture in the fog yesterday, I noticed that as soon as you lift your foot, the impression is instantly filled with water. The ground basically cannot hold any more moisture, hence a flash flood watch each & every time it rains.<br />
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Although this image was made yesterday (its on film... not instant), today began the same way, a dense fog. Then rain, driving rain, pouring rain, sun showers, bright sun, and the cycle repeated itself. Most remarkably the temperature soared to 62 degrees. There were a few crocus in bloom but the wind has probably torn them to shreds. For the first time this year, there were dozens of frogs frolicking (the genteel word for what was transpiring) in the pond. Tomorrow night's low of 24F will likely end their joyful celebration.<br />
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Floyd county is in a high wind warning but most counties betwixt here and the Atlantic seaboard are under tornado watches and warnings. Its been a totally no-rules sort of weather day at Stratheden Farms. In walking the canines tonight, one oak tree was on the ground and lots of dead limbs had blown out of trees. Time to do a little waltzing with the chain saw for next winter's heat - when and if the weather breaks long enough. At the moment, its too soggy to take a tractor out to pick up the wood - the tires tracks would damage the pastures, and you just don;t let freshly cut wood lay on wet ground and absorb water.<br />
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As the sun disappeared into the speeding clouds, the wind velocity increased further. And the lights are taking to blinking every once in a while, hinting this should be published before it vanishes!<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-65181169997361322882016-02-14T15:24:00.000-05:002016-02-15T08:31:52.596-05:00you win some and you lose some-And Mr. Fuzzy is not winsome.<br />
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Although the doctoral dissertation was accepted in 2008, from time to time, Mr. Fuzzy still works on revising it for publication - and still suffers dissertation PTSD. At least once a week, a dream laden with abounding anxiety about completing the dissertation revisits the unconscious mind. The most common variant is discovering during defending the dissertation, some major source of information was overlooked.<br />
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During the "research years," occasionally oblique references to a possibly important source were uncovered but the actual book, pamphlet or journal article could never be located. Sometimes this could be attributed erroneous citations, typos, or, to put it in a nicer light, 'willful imagination.' One title surfaced several times in rather off-hand mentions (nothing as firm as a foot note) but since <i>WorldCat</i> showed no copies in United States libraries and <i>The British Library</i> catalogue failed to list it either, the best evidence pointed to 'mythological.'<br />
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Whilst perusing a photo-forum a few weeks ago, lo and behold, a German member claimed to be quoting from it. A near panic attack followed in nano seconds. WorldCat and British Library were double checked but even a decade later, neither showed a copy had appeared.<br />
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<b>Q</b>: If the end-all and be-alls of the research world failed to show it, oh, what to do?<br />
<b>A</b>: consult a money making mega book vendor such as AbeBooks or Alibris.<br />
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<span class="st">Voilà</span>, there is was - and could be purchased and delivered to the United States for under 20 Euros from a Berlin book store. The 'purchase now' button was immediately activated. It arrived two days ago in fine condition. The first glance was promising; published by the same printer as the most important single work ever written on soft focus lenses, Heinrich Kühn's <b>Technik der Lichtbildnerei</b>, written three decades earlier. Oh no, if it was promising, did that mean the dissertation was somehow lacking or worse, in error? Ackkkkkkk.<br />
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After a thorough examination, the good news is that <b>Praxis der Weichzeichnung</b> was essentially a 113 page puff piece for its author, Michael Neumuller, who was promoting his own photography as well as advocating a single brand soft focus lens, the Rodenstock company's <b>Imagon</b> (a skeptical mind might even wonder if Rodenstock underwrote the publication). It has no direct quotations, no footnotes, no bibliography, no images by anyone else, no signs of rigor. Worse, Neumuller plagiarizes Kuhn at length without any form of attribution. Perhaps he thought that anyone who read Kuhn's book of 1921 was not going to read his 1955 tome? A fair assumption with millions of Germans & Austrians of the 1920s now dead and the libraries in ashes...<br />
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With the mind at ease, a fine night's rest ensued.<br />
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<br />Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191231775873644401.post-70395411463509222572016-02-07T19:21:00.003-05:002016-02-07T19:25:36.059-05:00Knoxville<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWTgZrF5JhS5gZM1botRVBMklgyVGC7zzPehzG5wAQK01sKxIFwdCDyBXHv3EZZOwRDk7zUiohhZxpUNeAN3mWsVk-nmS-Qkn9ZykHJbhUTXO6dp2uJVVzRcxJG-Mb9j2j6p0q6GGwpo/s1600/theatre+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWTgZrF5JhS5gZM1botRVBMklgyVGC7zzPehzG5wAQK01sKxIFwdCDyBXHv3EZZOwRDk7zUiohhZxpUNeAN3mWsVk-nmS-Qkn9ZykHJbhUTXO6dp2uJVVzRcxJG-Mb9j2j6p0q6GGwpo/s320/theatre+LR.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
An invitation to an eighteenth century party in the wilds of Eastern Tennessee brought Mr. Fuzzy to the sophisticated downtown of Knoxville first.<br />
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It has been three decades since mine eyes laid upon old Knoxville - the new downtown is thoroughly delightful. Great restaurants, theatre district, arts district, pubs and bars, parks, plenty of off street parking, friendly people and just a warm ambiance that pervaded everything and everywhere.<br />
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Its a very alive area with many people living downtown in five to ten story buildings from (mostly) the 1920s. Based on the paucity of notices of units for sale or rent, it appears the living spaces are well filled.<br />
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There are no ugly, run down buildings or empty eye sores. It seems the area has become very popular and for good reasons.<br />
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One goal was to visit Boyd's Jig & Reel, a Scottish pub with live music and over 200 Scotch whiskeys. Its just the right size to be intimate but not tiny, with booths, tables and a lovely old wooden bar. Two lovely bar maids in wee kilties held court and were a fountain of information about the various delectable delights in the bottles behind the bar. It might seem surprising but my indulgence was a pint of locally brewed dark beer and it was delicious. The music did not start until my bedtime, 10:00 p.m., so I cannot evaluate its qualities. They will see me again.<br />
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There were a number of fine restaurants downtown, for dining as well as early day fare. Breakfast repast was at The French Market, a very popular morning cafe. They had a monstrous selection of breakfast and luncheon foods but my eye had already settled on the substantial crepe menu, finally alighting on the salmon and cream cheese. Oh my it was tasty. A sign of a fine cafe is not only the best of coffees but likewise the best of teas, and they did not disappoint.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQKBATdN271VFpOSAi7efPctVd9Fs1WD-q6Ythe9-SAQoQo_eowuUz-q8YAItWkEi2RO4UwMfxs8STku0WCV02ZWxPSxZA2Hgefdcm6p9xPX5C1c9VhBQ9ncgb00WIS9CBJDSyzEzpcU/s1600/headstone+and+ivy+LR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQKBATdN271VFpOSAi7efPctVd9Fs1WD-q6Ythe9-SAQoQo_eowuUz-q8YAItWkEi2RO4UwMfxs8STku0WCV02ZWxPSxZA2Hgefdcm6p9xPX5C1c9VhBQ9ncgb00WIS9CBJDSyzEzpcU/s320/headstone+and+ivy+LR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Readers who know the author well also know he seeks out old and photogenic cemeteries. The First Presbyterian Cemetery, in the core of downtown, was begun circa 1790. As one might expect of the staunch Presbyterians of that era, headstones tend to be very modest in scale and design, nonetheless, there were many of visual and historic interest.<br />
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Knoxville is an easy four hour drive from Floyd and based on this visit, another shall follow before the year is over. Should you find yourself in Knoxville, follow the evaluations on Zomato and Tripadvisor and you cannot go wrong. Have a wonderful time there.Mr. Fuzzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08305810540151153145noreply@blogger.com2