Old Wheels and New Posies

If they're reading this post, some of my former Ponderettes (SHS drill team) of the 1970s will be glad to see that parts of one wagon wheel which they "appropriated" for me so long ago still survive.

It took three years and a lot of hard labor by petite but determined young ladies for me to have those two wagon wheels.  

First year:  While walking through an area, Mrs. Love points out to the troops the pair of wheels, showing their hubs above pine needles and brush in a wooded area. 

She also comments something to the effect of, "I sure like those . . .wish I had them."  

A few teen-age ears zero in on the comment AND then teen-age eyes and minds mark the spot, adding "wagon wheels to Mrs. Love" on their "to do" list. 

Second year:  On a dark night, following a drill team picnic and hike, two or three barbwire fences, a whole lot of wet, gushy spring grass and deep puddles and one broken watch later, the team captain (all of 4 feet 11 inches tall) and two of her troops finish the drill, proudly delivering one wagon wheel to Mrs. Love's house. 

Next year, a few different people, same drill. 

NONE of this---mind you---under their teacher's guidance.

What's a person to do?  Anywho?

 Instruct them to get into formation and roll those heavy artifacts right back to where they found them.

Probably a good idea.

BUT a certain amount of appreciation for their grit and their loyalty got in the way of Mrs. Love's common sense. 

Over the years, those old wheels moved two more times, once to our farm on Great Northern Road, where they stayed for 30 years and where one pretty much disintegrated and finally, in 2006, the remains of the other came to Selle. 

Not much left of the originals, thanks to years of weathering, but still enough of a remnant to vividly recall  funny stories in my own personal history and always to wonder what tales went along with their getting to the resting place where I first spotted them while living at the Upper Place. 

In other news, fall is  coming on, and with the fall, some unexpected posies have risen out of what's left of the spokes extending from the surviving wheel hub.  

I have painted it every so often, just to highlight a personally meaningful piece of history here as folks drive into our driveway.  

Other hints of fall were showing themselves yesterday as I went about my daily activities here at the Lovestead.  

The big "trifecta" bush/pretty tree at the end of the driveway has lost most of its summer adornment, and leaves are turning. 

More and more maple leaves from our two trees in the yard are coloring up, then falling to the ground. 

In the midst of it all, a few varieties of flowers around the place are doing their best to provide a colorful accent to the slow stages of death around them. 

This morning I pulled a complete, limp and discolored nasturtium plant from one of the containers in front of the shop. 

Last night our friend Maryann brought a handful of aromatic lavender she had harvested from her 2019 crop.  

As I showed her one of my two lavender plants which have survived from the assortment of starts her brother-in-law gave me a few years ago, she noted, "Now, Shiraz would probably have you trim these back so they don't grow like sagebrush."  

Consider it done. 

Bees are still hanging around working on flowers and herbs outside while, inside pesky small flies have suddenly appeared all around the house.  

I noted to Bill this morning that last night I actually thought they were fruit flies getting into my salad and wondered why fruit flies would want the lettuce, pasta, tomatoes and cukes.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered these creatures are just smaller than the usual house flies.  Bill suggested it might be an youth thing, since they probably just hatched. 

Regardless of size, they're just as annoying as they ever are every September. 

With just four days away from the official beginning of fall, I spent some time installing the bags on the back of my lawnmower. 

Once the leaf collectors seemed to be in place, I fired up the lawnmower and picked up the first of what will  be at least a hundred trips around the lawn over the next several weeks. 

The goal:  always to have every possible leaf picked up before winter snow and frost do the cover up and eventually glue the leaves to the ground.

Better to remove them in the fall than the spring. 

Anyway, there's not much we can do about the slow death of so many outside natural attractions.

Still, we can look for the beauty and seize upon every aspect of what Mother Nature has bestowed upon us for our outside enjoyment. 

Happy Tuesday.