Dem Apples and Such

I started picking apples yesterday.  They aren't the prettiest apples in the world, but with my occasional pruning, they've doubled in size since we first moved here.  Great for jellies and sauce.

I'm to the stage where I'll have to put the ladder in the pickup to pick the rest of this year's crop.  At least, I've rescued what's left on the bottom limbs after daily deer visits. 

The deck view is exhibiting more and more of a touch of fall. 

And these trees, pictured last week, are showing more color.  I have to enjoy them now because I sure don't enjoy those poplars when they take their time dropping millions of leaves for me to pick up. 

This pretty waterfall is just off the road a few miles up Rapid Lightning Creek.  Last time I stopped here to take pictures, I was with Bill and Annie.  It was winter time about three years ago, and we were geocaching. 

Rolling Thunder Greeting Committee, I guess.  Amazing what we run across when we take the back roads. 

It’s a Monday holiday, and Bill has prepared a lunch.  So, I’m assuming he’s working today.  I just yelled down to him, asking where he is working today.

“Sandpoint, Idaho,” he responded in his usual thorough manner.

“Holiday?  . . . I guess work doesn’t always recognize holidays,” I said.

He agreed.

Do I ever know that situation firsthand?  As a teacher and freelance journalist for so many years, I often knew that taking time to recognize the holiday or the weekend was gonna get me way behind on my work.

So, we make choices, often choices to do everything possible intended diminish the stress in our lives.

After all, if we leave it sitting today, it’s still going to be waiting there tomorrow, and with a real work day, the “to do” pile is likely to grow.

Anyway, I don’t have to work today, and we’ve been granted one more pleasant and dry day before the rain, which was originally scheduled for the weekend and all this week, finally arrives.

I’m a mother, slightly worried about the predicted bad weather down South where Annie is today. Last I heard she was planning to drive over to Louisiana from Houston where she spent the weekend at this year’s Geocoinfest gathering.

Bad weather down South can be much more dramatic than bad weather up here.  So, if she is on the road, I hope she plays it safe.

But then again, why should I be so worried?  Yesterday she kayaked in a bayou with alligators, and she lived to tell about all the caches she found.

I heard no alligator stories, so I’m assuming the sheer numbers of kayakers out looking for geocaches in that bayou scared off hungry gators.

Speaking of other travelers, I must update that brother Mike did NOT receive his lost suitcase, after all.  It did not arrive at said point of pickup in Santorini, Greece on Saturday, and, as far as he knows, it’s on its own tour of the Greek Isles.

Since their cruise is due to end soon, the need for the suitcase has diminished but not the frustration.  Again, though, he says ship’s laundry has kept him suited and that the trip has been fabulous.

Funny I know of three groups who have been touring the Greek Isles at almost the same time.  One is a former student who has returned home, and the other, according to photos I’ve seen, is a mother and two of her daughters (both former students AND one the owner of the beehives across the road from us).

I sent the latter a note and told her the bees said hi. She seemed pleased.

In other news, both my sisters and I were hoping that the aspen grove up Rapid Lightning Creek would be perfect for a camera visit, but yesterday’s opportunity got a little muddled due to some communication breakdowns.

When I did not hear from them by the time they thought they could go, I took off with Foster.  Bill and the other two dogs had already left for some fishing in Grouse Creek.

Along the way, I stopped a couple of times for photos---one at the pretty little waterfall slightly hidden from the road and the other up Rolling Thunder Road.  I’d never been up there before, so the diversion was a treat----especially with the folks at the entrance of someone’s home.

I’m sure there’s a good story to go along with the lady in the tree and the man with the microphone, but I’ll leave it to the imagination.  Tastefully done and clever, I’d say.

With gray skies dulling the color show, things at the grove were about as blah up there  as the Seattle-Dallas football which was wrapping up in Seattle. Ugh! On both counts. 

So, I simply turned around and came home.

I finally connected with my sister Barbara who reported that when their plans did not work out, she made a stew.

 

I told her that I was in the process of practicing with another batch of homemade tater chips, so it sounded like we were both happy with our alternatives.

She agreed.

My chips turned out a little better than the first batch.  I think Bill actually ate two or three this time, and Foster even gobbled his down.

So, here we are with the holiday and all the folks in my extended family have gone to work.  So, I’ll follow suit; only mine won’t follow a time clock.  I’ll simply take on the chores as they come.

Happy Monday.