A benchmark of change

One of those rare definitive seasonal changes has occurred this morning in the pastures of Stratheden - a complete coating of thin frost. If ever there was a harbinger of the onset of colder weather, this would be it. At this very moment, early rays of the sun are now raking across it, simultaneously highlighting and destroying it.

The forecast was for a low of 29F so the dining room floor is covered by potted plants brought inside for protection. In theory, this is the coldest night for the next week so they will go back outside today.

Yesterday, hastened by the frost warning, Mr. Fuzzy cut and hung the tobacco crop along with some mullein (used by the Cherokee in their smoking mix). The tobacco was planted very late but has done well; the leaves and stalks are considerably more robust than last year, attributable, methinks, to the improvements made in the soil. Hundreds of pounds of compost await being tilled into the garden once the growing season has totally ceased; with luck and perseverance, next year's yield will be even better.

Autumn has literally been blown in by the winds of change; there have been periods as long as three days wherein the air has never been stilled. Brilliantly colored leaves have danced all about the farm and have now provided a richly textured ground cover and insulation through the cold spells. Very few trees managed to retain their modest coverings; the maples, which gave a fine display of bright reds, have somehow maintained their glory, and most oaks as well. The walnuts were the first trees to be totally divested of their raiment perhaps three weeks past.

Autumnal Colours

This weekend may be the climax of fall color on Stratheden's grounds. The trees were stressed by the summer drought and some began melding their summers greens into fall yellows as much as four weeks ago. Many of the noble trees who turn to shades of reds have held their display until recently; the maples have been spectacular this season (note to self: plant more maple trees) and the dogwoods display a superabundance of brilliant red berries this year..

The walnut trees were particularly stressed by the lack of water this summer and have shad all of their leaves already. Nonetheless, the yield of walnuts continues to be prodigious and we will have them to dine on through the spring beyond any doubt. The squirrels must be ecstatic.

Yesterday was a classic fall day: azure blue skies with just enough clouds for contrast, daytime temperatures of about 62F and a constant wind ensuring there were always leaves making their final curtsy on the way downward. Today may be a carbon copy, dear reader, and I wish you were here to enjoy it with me.

Radford Highland Games

Last Saturday the Fuzzies drove to Radford University to take in their annual highland games. Och, it was such a Scottish day, dreich! The temperature was barely in the 40s, the skies were dark gray and drizzling rain in varying quantities, the wind a-gusting, oh it made me so homesick for Fife.



The core of the event was the games but there was superb live music, vendors of Scottish goods (some from bonnie Scotland!), arts and crafts, herding dog demonstrations, etc. What is a Scottish event with nae sheep? (ans: heartbroken). Even Mr. Fuzzy parted with a guinea or two and purchased a fine sporran from a auld Glasgow firm. Methinks most did well except perhaps the Sno-Cone man who was looking pretty blue, literally and figuratively.

Truly, it made me very homesick for the country and our friends there. I wanted to drown me sorrow with Talisker and oatcakes, sigh, and there was a wee dram of Talisker in the cabinet...

Some of the people and their cameras in the workshop Mr.Fuzzy taught last weekend. Ah, yes indeed, a whole new group who now know why he is denominated "Mr. Fuzzy."

Apology

My dear faithful readers, yes, both of you- my apologies for the lack of recent postings and tidings but Mr. Fuzzy gave a three day national master-level workshop on soft focus lenses last weekend... it took a week or more of intense focus to prepare and when it was behind me, me was exhausted... just late this morning has the mind rejoined the body.

This shall not repeat itself until next year!

So stay close and wait for a post soon.

I thank you for your enduring loyalty and attach a photograph from today of Jack Tar doing his imitation of his grandfather, a black panther.

Mr. Fuzzy (his-self)

Finally, A Good Deer!

Available from Amazon, no matter where you live.

Last night I went down to the freezer to root around for something interesting to cook for company and came out with a one pound venison leg roast. Mumbling and grumbling about the strange cuts the local game butchers produced from our small doe, I decided that THIS time I would not ruin this prized meat.

I set the meat on the granite worktop we picked up cheap at a thrift store to thaw. Having this little piece of stone really sucks the cold or heat out of an object, speeding up the process considerably. (Thank you S.A. for telling me of the everyday virtues of granite.) I then rooted through my cookbooks for some reliable help and came up with Game For All, a cookbook put out by the local venison farm near our old home in Scotland. 

Diligently reading the preliminary notes, I learned that we would have done well to hang that does for a few days. Oh well. I also discovered Mrs. Fletcher's directions for "fast cooking" venison: Sear in oil, season (not too much salt), roast uncovered in a very hot oven (450F) until underdone (110F internal temp), and let it rest a while to finish cooking. The only thing I added to her recipe was wrapping the meat in foil while it rested.

The result? My first successful piece of roast venison. The seasonings were sesame oil, juniper berries, pepper, and Hungarian chiles with just a sprinkle of salt.

apple thieves

Dearest of all Readers, Mr. Fuzzy has puzzled about the chunks taken out of the mutsu apples whilst said apple is still on the tree. The cats perform their duties quite well and normally keep even the peskiest ravens away from our fruit. So what could be eating the forbidden fruit?

The answer revealed itself this afternoon as I watched at least four of Mrs. Fuzzy's new chickens way up high in the tree. Chickens in trees? Really? Yes. And here is the proof. You may have to click to enlarge the image but there are very clearly two chickens in view. The next image was made during the booking process and is Perpetrator #1.

Live and learn.