We run our bedroom box fan year round. The whirring sound of the blades creates a soothing noise that muffles the world outside our window. Before we learned the fan trick, we could hear barn owls, night birds, stray dogs, and the noise of late-night cars screaming past our house fast enough to break the sound barrier. You'd think a narrow dead end road would elicit more caution here in the sticks, but you'd be wrong.

Last night just after midnight, I sensed that the power had failed. The fan fell silent. I was thankful the weather had cooled down. Pulling the flashlight from the nightstand drawer, I eased out of bed and made my way into the office to call the power company.

The power goes off fairly often out here. The reps write it off to antique wires and switches out here and future plans to upgrade the infrastructure. Typically, they wake a technician up and send him to a fuse located about 200 feet from my house. He resets the fuse and the fan springs to life along with the air conditioner.

Last night was no different. Less than an hour after my report, our power came back on. Then about five minutes later it went back off. This time it stayed off until daybreak.

Apparently, there was a live wire on the ground about a mile from our house, and when the technician engaged the fuses the first time, the live wire started a small fireworks show. This threw the fuses again. This time the tech call in some linemen to hang a new segment of wire.

The humidity was much lower today, and even though it was still warm, it felt good outside.

On our morning walk, I snapped another picture of a butterfly. This one is a swallowtail. It seemed to be posing for me.

I hope you all have a great week. Posted by Rick Watson at 7:19 PM 16 comments: Take time to notice

One of the self-assignments from the book I'm currently reading is to notice things. Our minds are constantly bombarded throughout the day. If you own a smartphone, the problem is amplified tenfold.

An average brain just cannot process all the information coming at us. As a result, we filter. If new data is not something we're looking for (like a bathroom when we have to pee) then we often see it, but it doesn't interest one of the brain cells assigned to make us notice.  We simply let it drift by like a leaf on a fast-moving stream. If on the other hand, it says an oncoming car is on the wrong side of the road, this immediately engages the old "FIGHT OR FLIGHT"  reflex and you become quite interested in the new information. In fact, it may trigger a hygiene issue while you're trying to figure out how to deal with the new info.

This not noticing is your brain's way of dealing with excess input. There's a flower on the side of the road. I've seen a million of them. No eminent threat there, move on. Over in that field, is a 100-year-old barn. Your brain says, if you've seen one cow palace, you've seen them all.

On long drives, this brain processing is quite helpful. It keeps information from squirting out your ear when your head fills up.

But, this can also do you a disservice – especially if you're a writer.

Today, on the way home from Mississippi, I saw a field with bales of hay.  I've seen a lot of hay, especially during the heyday of my travels (I couldn't resist.) But when I actually noticed the field and the way the light fell on the field, it was a photographic moment. The only reason it's not the picture for tonight's blog is that there was a log truck close enough to my rear bumper that I could read the serial number on his radiator. But I noticed it.

Further along was a fencerow. Barbed wire kept cattle from wandering into the country road. Many of the fences seen these days are held up by store-bought fence post all straight as Army cadets.  The barbed wire held as taut as a guitar string. But this morning we passed a fence strung during the last century. Many of the posts were ones cut from nearby saplings. About every fifth post was a railroad crosstie. This was the fence from my childhood. Buying a fence post would not have occurred to a farmer in those days. Noticing the fence today, triggered a stream of thought that would normally have drifted past me. I'm thankful I took the time to notice it.

Posted by Rick Watson at 8:19 PM 13 comments: World on fire

This summer remind me of the year I spent in the tropics while serving in the Army. It's hot at breakfast and once the sun rises above the trees, it squeezes the mercury toward the roof of the thermometer. Then after lunch, the dogs start acting squirrelly. It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to know that thunderstorms are a'comin'.

Then when the rain moves off to the south, the sun comes back out turning the world into a sauna.

One day this week, the storms didn't move in until later in the day. As I walked out of yoga class at 8 p.m. the setting sun through storm clouds on the western horizon looked as if the world were on fire. Posted by Rick Watson at 9:00 PM 12 comments: Thursday, July 27, 2017

All I have to give

I've been a road warrior this week. My work this week took me to the edge of Mississippi both yesterday and today.

After the meeting in Fayette, I had an appointment with my boss to upload quarterly reports. After lunch, when I parked and lugged my laptop inside, he told me the phone system and the Internet was down. Oh well. There would be no more productive work today, so I headed home.

Thankfully, I shot several pictures of our flowers yesterday.

Today, this is all I have to give. Posted by Rick Watson at 8:45 PM 14 comments: Tired fingers

I've spent most of the day today writing and my fingers are tired. My blog buddy Fran at  Fishducky
asked me to post the picture of Jordan and the gigantic watermelon I shot last Sunday. So below is the picture. Posted by Rick Watson at 5:40 PM 14 comments: Zen ferns

Do you believe in Zen ferns?  I KNOW. It's a stretch but stay with me. Yesterday as Jilda and I were heading to yoga class, the setting sun lite up our fern and fountain. We were running late for the free class she teaches at the local community center.

I took a second to take it all in. There are not many things more beautiful than scenes painted by evening light. Posted by Rick Watson at 9:04 PM 10 comments: Thoughts from the garden ~ my column from Sunday's paper

During the last few weeks after planting our garden, it looked manicured. The tomatoes had grown from small seedlings into bushy plants that required cages to keep them upright. Watching our garden grow is a favorite summer past time. It’s a simple joy that’s hard to describe to someone who’s never grown a garden. Most of the time there is no better stress reliever. But gardens are bounty or bust.

Several mornings toward the end of May, I’d walk down to the garden. Leaning against the fence with a steaming cup of coffee hooked to my finger, I’d sip while surveying our work. Closing my eyes, I could taste the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich on toasted bread with mayo. A BLT in summer is like heaven on wheat bread.

One morning I noticed some of the top leaves of my heirloom tomato plant missing. Beneath the plant were tiny green balls of poop. After a few minutes, I found a hornworm as big as my index finger munching on my prized plant. The worm was enjoying an early morning meal of tender tomato leaves. His day went south. With my free hand, I plucked his squirming body from the vine. Squashing his head between my thumb and forefinger, I tossed the remains over the fence into the backyard. The chickens raced toward the tender green prize. The fastest pecked the worm up and was off to enjoy its special breakfast.

The peppers, squash, and tomatoes were doing great until the rain came. After weeks of showers, the plot was a mess. One day when stepping into the tilled soil, the mud sucked the shoes from my feet. I tried for a while to keep the garden maintained, but plants like people can’t survive with too much water. Weeds, on the other hand, seem to thrive in soggy soil. Soon the blossoms fell off the squash before forming fruit, and all our beautiful tomatoes started splitting open on the plant.

The dry days these past few weeks gave us hope that the garden would survive, but that looks doubtful. I’m thinking about plowing it under and planting another crop with bush beans, cucumbers, a few more tomatoes, and squash. The Farmer’s Almanac says that now is the time for late gardens.

Gardens for us is more of a hobby. The same was not true for our parents and grandparents who grew up during harder times. Gardens were essential. A bad year in their gardens meant bare pantries and less food on the table during the fall and winter.

I used to help my great-grandmother tend her garden when I was still in grammar school. She’d put on her sun bonnet in the mornings and wander through her garden picking what it offered up that day. By the time we finished gathering each morning, her straw baskets were brimming with vegetables. She’d be huffing and puffing from exertion by the time we carried it all into her kitchen. I asked her once why she worked so hard in her garden. Her answer was simple – “I like to eat.” That pretty well sums up why Jilda and I have a garden each year.

Posted by Rick Watson at 9:05 PM 13 comments: Sunday, July 23, 2017

Sad Sunday

RIP Louis.

Posted by Rick Watson at 8:23 PM 13 comments: Remembering July in Telluride Posted by Rick Watson at 7:44 PM 11 comments: Monarch Morning

I know that it is theoretically possible for there to be a more beautiful creature than a butterfly, but I can't name one at the moment.

This morning after our early walk, I stopped at the garden (if you still call it that.) The rain and heat have made it almost impossible to keep it maintained. The heatwave over the last few days has dried out the soil and the tomatoes seem to be making a comeback, but weeds have taken over. It will take a great deal of early-morning work to get it back in shape. But I digress...

Before going through the backyard gate, I stopped for a moment to look at the Old Maid flowers. They are the old heirlooms that know how to survive wacky summers in Alabama. When it's hot and dry they thrive. When it's cooler and wet they thrive. They keep our house colorful till autumn.

Just as I turned to head inside for water, I noticed a monarch butterfly flitting between blossoms. I took this photo with my phone.

Even after sliding the camera back into my pocket I watched the butterfly dancing on the flower. The movement of their wings is almost hypnotic. It's almost a pulsing motion.

Turning to walk back inside, I thought to myself, there's not much better than a Monarch Morning. Posted by Rick Watson at 7:54 PM 10 comments: Thursday, July 20, 2017

More to follow. Posted by Rick Watson at 7:03 PM 10 comments: Red wasp saga looked at.

Posted by Rick Watson at 7:02 PM 13 comments: Tuesday, July 18, 2017

On the road again Posted by Rick Watson at 8:29 PM 8 comments: AC or not AC

On Mondays, Jilda leaves for work before I get home in the afternoon. When I arrived around 5 p.m. the house seemed warm. Our collie Caillou wears a coat thicker than a mink. He doesn't summer well.  He met me at the door panting.
Placing my laptop and backpack on the bench by the door, I stepped into the hall to have a look at the thermometer. Had Jilda left the setting too high, I was going to fire off achiding text. She mindful of our critters, and rarely makes a mistake, but I checked.  The thermostat was set to 74 where we keep it during the day, but the temperature said 77.  Hmmmmmmmm?
I could feel the fan blowing away, but the house was too warm. When I stepped to the deck, my heart sank. The outside unit would normally be whirling away doing its magic. It wasn't.

I went out and tried to jumpstart the fan by turning it with my screwdriver, but no go. Last summer, ants got into the unit which prevented the compactor from working properly. There were no ants.

I noticed an electronic box next to the unit. It contained fuses as big around as my thumb. My thinking was that something might have caused one of these fuses to blow.

I pulled one out and headed to the hardware store. In the mean time, I called my nephew who knows every craftsman worth knowing within 30 miles of where we live. The temps will be close to 100 tomorrow and I knew every AC tech in Alabama had packed schedules, but I sent my nephew a text. Less than 5 minutes later, my cell phone chirped. It was a local AC guy. He said he was slammed but he could come tomorrow and check our unit. When I told him I was on my way to get some replacement fuses, he said it was doubtful this could be the problem but was a good thing to check.

Once I arrived home, an evening thundershower was over the house. Sheets of rain poured off the metal roof. Unfortunately, the AC and the fuse box were in the drip line.

In a moment, the new fuses were installed, and I was shaking rain off my head and hands. Stepping into the hall, I turned the unit back on and said a prayer to the AC gods.

Nothing happened for over a minute. But then the unit kicked on. When I stepped to the back deck, the outside unit was purring like a Nordic kitten.  If there has ever been a happier human on this earth, I'd like to shake his/her hand.

Posted by Rick Watson at 9:30 PM 10 comments: Sunday, July 16, 2017

Mother Nature and the sweet gum tree Posted by Rick Watson at 6:41 PM 10 comments: Saturday, July 15, 2017

Something new to read

I hope this Saturday has been kind to you. Posted by Rick Watson at 7:41 PM 11 comments: Another face Posted by Rick Watson at 7:57 PM 14 comments: Thursday, July 13, 2017

It's been an ebb and flow week, but it seems I've done more ebbing that flowing. My energy level is lower than normal. That happens from time to time.

My niece took my older sister to the emergency room Sunday evening, and it took the medical staff a while to isolate the problem. She had surgery this morning and she's recovering now. That is a weight lifted.

I did upgrade my phone today. The picture below is the first one I shot with the new one.

We plan to sleep in tomorrow. That means we won't get up until 6 a.m. instead of five-ish.  So expect some major Friday flowing. Posted by Rick Watson at 8:30 PM 12 comments: Old maids

Early in the spring, we had high hopes for our garden. The tomatoes launched out and the plants were full of flowers. Soon tiny green tomatoes came out almost overnight. The squash plants were not far behind. Our garden held promise.

The rain came. And it kept coming. Soon the roots were soggy. No plants can survive if the roots can't breathe.

After one storm swept through, all the tomato cages and sunflowers went down. The soil was too muddy to stand them back up. That was a turning point.

The last few days, the rain moved off to the east and the sun came back. The days were hot, less humid, and dry.

This morning, the plants looked as if they may recover somewhat. I have my fingers crossed that we get rain in moderation for the rest of the year.

The Old Maids, on the other hand, don't care if it rains or not. They thrive. But these plants are not hybrid. They were probably in the Garden of Eden.

I snapped a few pictures so I'd have something to write about. Posted by Rick Watson at 8:08 PM 8 comments: Happy Bottle Tree Tuesday

Today is Bottle Tree Tuesday. It's a new holiday I'm starting. I haven't gotten any traction yet, but some trends take time to take root.

When I was a kid, my dad made flower planters from tires. He'd cut spiky petals one one side of an old tired tire, and turn it inside out. The effect was that of a squatty tulip. Fill that baby with dirt, plant blooming moss, and you had what came to be known as hillbilly yard art. Call me backwoods, but I always thought it was an ingenious way to recycle something that would have been tossed into a garbage dump.

Jilda's grandmother had a bottle tree. That was back when milk of magnesia came in fat glass bottles that were a shade of blue that was beautiful when backlighted by the evening sun. We searched for a bottle tree for years, and then we found one at a local festival. Jilda fell in love with it, and I bought it for her.

We "planted" it in the flowerbed in the back yard next to the blazing star bush. I've shot pictures of it in the past, but I don't think I've ever used this one.

How about it – have you ever made up your own holiday? If not, I recommend that you do. It's liberating.

Happy Bottle Tree Tuesday. Posted by Rick Watson at 8:23 PM 14 comments: The value of a good toy box ~ my column from Sunday's paper

Under the ancient glider on our screen porch is a plastic tub of toys. We never had children, but we’ve served as babysitters for working family members through the years. Any experienced babysitter knows the value of a good toy box. I measure the quality of a toy box by the hours of peace I get when the kids are at play with the things inside it.
Our toy box doesn’t have any electronic gadgets or expensive pieces. The things in the box are sale items we’ve picked up at Fred’s, Dollar General, or other discount stores. Jilda found a set of wooden blocks. These aren’t the familiar ABC blocks, but simple colored cubes, rectangles, triangles, and cylinders. There are also tiny action figures, small metal cars, trucks, tractors, and trains. Rounding off the bunch are cans of Play-Doh, bottles of bubbles, crayons, and watercolors.

We celebrated the Fourth of July on Sunday. A few of our friends and some of Jilda’s family came. We did this to avoid conflicting with other celebrations later in the week.
We had eleven adults and six kids. Most of the kids brought their electronic toys, and they sat in the living room playing until the batteries died. After that, they started getting fidgety.
Our house would be considered a “tiny house” by today’s standards. When filled with family, friends, and pets, it gets cozy. Especially with restless young’uns.
Jilda has babysitting radar, so once she realized a potential kid meltdown, she herded them to the screen porch, pulled out the toy box and let imagination do the rest.
Now and then an adult would step out of the conversation long enough to check on the kids. When it was my turn, I moved to the entryway, leaned on the door jamb, and watched the action from a distance. Even though the kids ranged in age from five to 15, they were immersed in playing with the old toys.
The day was warm and humid, but the ceiling fan whispered overhead making the porch a pleasant place to play for the kids.
As dusk drew near, the company said their goodbyes and headed off in different directions. Jilda and I tag-teamed to do the after-party cleanup. We knocked out the kitchen and set the dishwasher to humming before tackling the screen porch.
Once on the porch, there was an impossibly tall tower of wooden blocks. Each block was stacked precariously on the one below. How it was still standing, I do not know, but when I tried to disassemble the stack, it fell. I could hear wooden blocks rattling to all corners of the porch. I’m not sure if this was planned by the kids or not, but locating the blocks was like an Easter Egg hunt. I looked under ferns, statues, and behind wooden screens.
It also took a while to scrape the Play-Doh from between the cracks of our tiled table.   Once the porch was back in order and the toys placed inside the box, I sat on the glider and looked at the toys for a while. The kid in me said, “I think I could build a fort with these pieces.”

Posted by Rick Watson at 9:15 PM 15 comments: Sunday, July 09, 2017

This is more like it Posted by Rick Watson at 7:51 PM 13 comments: Saturday, July 08, 2017 Posted by Rick Watson at 7:05 PM 14 comments: Friday, July 07, 2017 Posted by Rick Watson at 6:40 PM 10 comments: Wacky imagination Posted by Rick Watson at 7:47 PM 12 comments: Wednesday, July 05, 2017

Welcome to July Posted by Rick Watson at 8:21 PM 14 comments: Tuesday, July 04, 2017

Happy 4th of July

I shot a picture of the flag today and let Photoshop have its way with the photograph. I do that sometimes. Someone asked me once why I art'd up pictures. I don't have a good answer except to say they sometimes look good to me.

My lovely spouse posted a link to the Declaration of Independence and challenged her readers to read it. I think I'll follow suit.

Happy 4th of July.
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