Well folks, between the drying-out trees turning color and the frost-hit trees turning, we are getting an extended period of colorful scenery. I have photographed a tree that seems to have colored up earlier than its neighbors. It is the brightest, most defiant red I have seen in ages. I hope you like it. I hope to God they print it in glorious color as our paper can do.
I have been poking around our church records in order to answer some questions put to me by the national church of our denomination. I have been asked to retire early as I showed no inclination to leave a busy farm to attend a short meeting far, far away. So I am on the sidelines now, so to speak.
I am the longest-serving cleric in our church. I am the only one who has built a beautiful church. And I have folks who have been coming for years and years. Maine is so far away. Who would want to be a priest in Maine? That’s the answer I get.
We are having wood delivered and I have put out the pallets. I love stacking wood and I especially love stacking it close to my kitchen door, where I can get it without a hassle. Our wood guy is named Lance, I forget his last name, and he delivers a nice full cord of dry – hear that? – dry wood! It doesn’t have to be coaxed to burn when you throw it in the stove. I believe this load was ash. It burns clean and hot, with hardly any smoke from the chimney. I also have a wood/propane cook stove that I use it in. I can get that fire going and wind the hot air around that oven and I can bake biscuits like Mamma’s. I can’t do it without a ripping fire across the tops of those biscuits to turn them nice and brown.
Our hens have been outdoing themselves. Yesterday I got nine eggs from eight hens! We eat lots of them and my cholesterol is just fine.
The rest of the garden is about gone. Our medical crop is being harvested branch by branch and put safely away. By the way, Robin never leaves home during harvest time and has no qualms about protecting our medicine.
Just got to share with you all: my memory is failing with my age (74) and I am meeting folks I have known for years and I can’t think of their names. It is very humiliating on occasion. However, my memory of the old days is sharp and clear and I will write of them as long as I am able. See you next week!
(Doug Wright lives over Head Tide Hill in Whitefield. He welcomes feedback at firstname.lastname@example.org.)