Sunday Sunsets

Taken this past July at Lake Gregory, Crestline.

Rain, Blessed Rain

Gorgeous thunderheads on Sunday had banded together by Sunday night...and draped themselves gently over our rain starved mountains, entwining themselves around the trees, adding soft layer upon soft layer of cloud on the trees' branches, leaves and needles...
until they could hold no more and begin to let tiny pieces of cloud in the form of water drops fall to the parched earth below. Very early in the morning hours of Monday more clouds came to join the ones already here, and they enthusiastically set about the task of washing everything clean, giving all living things a good drink, and refreshing a land that has not seen real rain since last May.

It rained most of Monday and Tuesday, and temperatures dropped to nearly freezing. Outside, the feral kitties curled up in their little houses that my husband made for them (insulated, double wall construction, waterproof), each with plenty of regular blankets plus a special small blanket on the top that acts like a heating pad, but without any cords. They work by reflecting the cat's body heat back to the cat. I've put my hand inside a house just after a kitty has left and it's surprisingly warm. They look like this (they also come in black and grey) they measure 18" by 22" and the item number is 9B - 13563

and I get them at

http://www.drsfostersmith.com/

Inside, all was cozy, too. My husband made a pot of beef stew for himself...

and the cats and dogs (they each get a few spoonfuls of gravy). I made a pot of vegetarian rip-your-lips-off-hot chili for myself. Yes, I am the only vegetarian in a houseful of carnivores. I've given up on trying to convert my husband. And the animals...well, they were created to be carnivores and I think it would be bad for their health to feed them a vegetarian diet.

And, of course, George was hogging the hearth!

Our Newest Family Member

This is Miss Rita Mae Moonsparkle. She's five months old and hates having her picture taken. I managed to slide the cardboard in behind her while she was asleep; there's no way I could have lowered the blinds without waking her, and the glare from the window would have ruined the photo. She took off like a shot right after I got this photo.

She came to be our newest kitty daughter in this manner: Several weeks ago, I heard someone calling "Hello? Hello?" Thinking someone was lost, my husband went out to see what was going on. A teenager was holding a scared little black and white kitten and asked my husband if he wanted her. She explained that the people next door to where she lives had moved away and abandoned the poor little kitten. Her mom wouldn't let her keep her, so she was trying to find the kitten a home. Well, she did!

She is not at all intimated by our much bigger, much older cats. George, who out weighs her by 18 pounds, swaggered up to her the first day we let her out to meet her new siblings, under our close supervision, and gave her his best "I'm gonna chew you up and spit you out" glare and growl. She wasn't scared by him at all. She calmly looked at him like she was saying, "Yeah? Well, take your best shot, buddy, because that's ALL you're gonna get!" George backed up, sat down and considered this little toughie, then suddenly remembered he had pressing business with a bowl of cat food. Our dogs, Bonnie and Fiona, adore her and she adores them right back. In fact, she gets along with everyone, which is very unusual for a new family member. It usually takes several weeks of fussing before everyone settles down.

I was hoping to name her Francesca or Isabella, but she wasn't responding to either of them. After two days of this, my husband was getting ready to go to the bookstore to see if some books I had ordered were in. I called to him, "See if the new book by Rita Mae Brown is out yet, please?" He replied, "Brown who?" I said, "Rita Mae." As soon as I said that, Miss-no-name-as-yet popped out from under the couch and walked over to me. She sat down by my feet and I said, "Rita Mae?" She jumped up into my lap, meowing and purring. She doesn't seem to care about 'Moonsparkle' one way or another, but I just liked the way it sounded with 'Mae.' Every time we say "Rita Mae" she either comes to us or meows at us so, even though I'm not really all that fond of the name, Rita Mae she is!

Faeries Friday - Citrine, The Queen of Autumn

Kind of scary looking, isn't she? But very beautiful!

Happy October, everyone!

Autumn Equinox Full Moon

These were taken tonight at 8:09, the exact time of the Autumn Equinox. They're both a bit blurry, but I was taking them from my studio porch.  I could see Jupiter through the Cedar and Dogwood branches, but couldn't get a clear shot.

It felt so magical to see a full moon on Equinozio di Autunno, which is what my maternal grandmother from northern Italy always called the Autumn Equinox. I always feel her near me; it's such a comfort.

Mabon/Autumn Equinox

The Autumn Equinox will officially arrive here on the west coast of the northern Americas tomorrow night at 8:09 p.m. Meanwhile, the dogwoods are beginning to dress in their Autumn finery, coloring their leaves and turning their berries to brilliant red.

Some of the hydrangea blossoms are beginning to fade to muted Autumn colors, which I think are even more beautiful than the blues of Summer.

A few are stubbornly trying to hang on to the blue of their youth but, as with all of us, age will have its way. It feels like Autumn here tonight. It's chilly enough to have a small fire in the living room fireplace, and there is the welcome scent of dampness in the air. If it actually rained here I'm sure people all over these mountains would be as thrilled and relieved as I would be because we haven't had any measurable rain since May 18th. I try not to think about that too much; it's just too frightening.

Today I took a dozen jars of apple butter, just made yesterday, down to my sister. It's still horribly hot down where she lives in the San Bernardino valley. Well, hot to me; after the above 100 degree temperatures they've had down there, she said 80 degrees felt wonderful. Not to me! While I was helping her pick the last of the late tomatoes from her garden I felt like I was going to get heat stroke! I'm going to make tomato sauce tomorrow with the tomatoes she sent home with me. The pumpkins in the little pumpkin patch she has are almost ready to be picked (hopefully, next time I go to visit her I'll remember to take my camera) and we'll use the large variety for decorating and the sugar pumpkins for pies and pumpkin butter at Thanksgiving.

Listen. Hear that, under the murmur of the breeze in the trees, under the slowing song of the crickets, under the soft, quiet crackling of the fire? That's the sound of the turning wheel of the year...

Autumn blessings to you all!

Sunday Sunsets

Taken July 13, 2007, at Lake Gregory in Crestline, CA.

Faeries Friday - Glorinda

Glorinda came to live with me several years ago, when I found her at a little shop in Big Bear, California. (That's Big Bear Lake above in my header photo). She's holding a Morning Glory (I think), so Glorinda seemed like a good name for her.

First and Last

The first apples of this year, and very early. Usually these little Lady apples don't ripen until around the middle of October. They're small, but they make delicious apple butter.


When I looked at the date of my last post I could not believe that a month had passed! Life has been hammering me with both good and bad for the past month. Good, in that I received a lot of commissions for portraits, bad in that I had some health issues that put me in the hospital for a couple of weeks, so now I'm behind on those commissions. Everything seems to be OK now though (knock on wood). I'm going to have to hustle to get those portraits done by Christmas, but I'm so grateful to have the work, especially in this economy.



This is the last rose of the summer, and what a beauty! I don't know what kind it is; I bought it on sale last year at the grocery store. It didn't bloom last season, but it certainly made up for it this season. Maybe it's some sort of floribunda? It has more than one bloom per stem, so that's why I'm guessing floribunda instead of tea rose. It also has a nice strong rose scent, but don't ask me to break it down into categories like 'lemony' or 'cinnamon.' My sister is always saying, "sniff this rose, it's gorgeous! Peach with a touch of vanilla!" I always answer, "Really? Peach and vanilla? 'Cause all I smell is, uh...rose!"

Sunday Sunsets

Taken May 30, 2009.

Faeries Friday - Nerida

This is Nerida, who perches on a shelf outside my studio's largest window. I found Nerida waiting to be adopted by me in a little shop in Coos Bay, Oregon. I spotted her in the shop window and immediately went inside and asked her if she wanted to live in the mountains of California with me. She said "Sure, as long as I can take my book with me!" I assured her she could, and I told her I even had many more books that she could borrow. She lives inside my studio in the winter, as do all my garden faeries. None of them are dressed for winter weather!
If you look closely, you can see the Cape Arago lighthouse in the distance. People in Oregon are supposed to be notoriously hateful of Californians, but we didn't encounter any of that attitude at all.


Anyway, Nerida has been happily reading in my garden for years now. I have several other Faeries that also like to read (they will make their appearance in later posts). I think they've formed a book club! I'm always finding books left in the garden (they seem to be partial to murder mysteries, gardening books and, of course, Faerie tales), and the Faeries never seem to be exactly where I left them...

Hollyhocks

These Hollyhocks are still flowering along the path to my studio, although they're almost done. I didn't plant them; they're volunteers who just liked that spot, I guess. I just love volunteers!

I used to love to make 'ballerinas' from the flowers of the Hollyhocks when I was a little girl, but I never knew they could be used for more than that until I read an interesting article about Hollyhocks, or Alcea Rocea, written by Marcia Enos. It seems they have medicinal uses because they contain Glycans. Glycans, very large sugars, make up our cell walls and mucus. The plant mucus found in Hollyhocks is used as an anti-oxidant and an anti-inflamatory. It's a good treatment for cystitis, and it boosts antibody response. Hollyhock is good for lubricating the lungs, throat and digestive tract because it increases mucous secretions.

The leaves, flowers and roots of the plants can be used, but if the plant smells of vinegar or is over three years old, don't use the root. The article stated that, after the plant starts to seed, you can place the flowers, leaves and/or the root in cold water (but, the author didn't say how much of these to use) and, keeping the liquid in the refrigerator, drink several ounces a day for NO LONGER THAN TWO WEEKS. Don't use it any longer because it could deplete Potassium.

And, of course:

Don't try any of this without checking with a doctor or a qualified, certified herbalist first!!

Sunday Sunsets

Taken at Big Bear Lake last June.

Things That Go Bump in the Day

These are Mrs. Slimtail's children. I call her that because she somehow lost almost all the fur on her tail. I had been painting in my studio this morning and had been hearing very strange bumps and thumps coming from underneath the studio. I was just about to go and investigate when I heard a cat fight starting down in the cottage (I have a baby monitor for just this reason) so I hurried down to stop the argument before anyone got hurt. Eeeek! She's going to look at us with that big one-eyed thing!

When I came back, I first saw these two in the Dogwood next to my porch. (I'm so glad I had my camera with me!) After I took some pictures of them, I looked down...

Uh-oh. She's looking at us! Oh, we should have followed Mama...

And there were these two little guys on my porch. They may be little, but they already have plenty of Raccoon attitude...

I'll stand up, you give her your best stare. That will scare her away!

Already acting like they weigh 20 pounds or more. The males can weigh up to 40 pounds when they're fully grown. I think these little guys would probably weigh in at around 7 to 9 pounds; that's less than most of my cats!

It's not working! Come on, we better climb up the tree, too. Oh, where did Mama go?

But their bravado didn't last long and they scampered up the tree after their siblings. I turned to see their mother regarding me calmly from about 5 feet behind me. I'm sure she knew I wouldn't hurt any of them, since she's figured out that I put out the food for them.

I stepped back out of her way and watched. She went to the foot of the studio stairs and said something that I'm guessing went like this:

You children get down here right this instant! Maybe this will teach you to mind me. When I say 'follow me' I mean RIGHT NOW! Or the lady will let go of the one-eyed thing and IT WILL EAT YOU UP!"

Then she turned and looked at me. I could swear she was smiling. Her children hurried down the tree and steps and formed an obedient line behind her. I raised my camera to get a picture of this charming scene, only to find that the battery had died! (I should pay more attention to the warning light).

Anyway, they hurried on up the path by my studio. When they got to the crawl space opening on the bottom of the studio, Mrs. Slimtail reached her paw out and raised up the crawl space cover so her babies could go in then, with another glance at me, she followed them. I'm sure it was a smug glance, because I had nailed down that crawl space cover top and bottom after having the studio and cottage repainted last year. Raccoons can be very strong, but I was sure I had put enough nails in to hold it firm. Obviously not.

Well, that explains the thumping and bumping noises I had heard; they're living under my studio! I'd like to be able to let them stay year round, but I know that eventually my studio will smell like a Raccoon Porta Potty. So I'll wait several weeks until the babies are teenagers and, when I'm sure they're all out foraging, I'll nail it shut again. Only this time I'll use bigger nails!

Sunday Sunsets

Taken last week at Lake Gregory in Crestline, CA.

Faeries Friday - Rosina

I have a large collection of Faeries so I thought I'd post a picture of one each Friday.

This beautiful one is happily sitting on her swing in my back garden, where most of them are living now. I first saw one like Rosina in a friend's garden, but when I went to the place where she said she had bought hers they were out. I looked everywhere up here, but no luck.


Several weeks later, I flew up to Alaska to spend a couple of weeks with my friend of 55 years at her home on the Kenai Peninsula. Sitting in her front garden was a faerie just like the one I had been searching for. She had bought her at this little shop in Homer the day before I arrived, so as soon as we could we rushed over to Homer (she lives in Anchor Point) and they had one left!

A few days before I left Alaska I thought I'd better pack up the things I had bought and take them to the P.O. to ship home. Rosina was nowhere to be found. My friend and I searched her house from top to bottom - still no Rosina. Her husband said he hadn't seen her either. ML said if they found her they would ship her to me.

I'm sure you can guess who was waiting for me in my garden when I got home. ML, her husband, and my husband swear they had nothing to do with Rosina disappearing and reappearing. They say she must have known where I lived and just flew home on her own with her swing tucked under one arm.

Oh, come on! How gullible they must have thought I was!



Anybody knows that swing would be too heavy for her to carry. She probably had it shipped, and then flew to my home.

Bombus Bimaculatus

Don't you love that name? It sounds like something from "Harry Potter."
It's Latin for 'Bumblebee.' I am captivated by Latin and I feel lucky that I got to take a few classes before it was dropped from the curriculum as a 'dead language.' (Not that I speak it fluently, but I do remember a bit).
These darling Bumblebees are the species 'Bombus Fervidus Californicus.'

This one was being very uncooperative. She would only let me take a picture of her bottom and the backside of what I'm guessing are her wings, although they look a little too thick for wings...hmmm. She has her fat little self stuffed nearly all the way up this Penstemon bloom, and absolutely would not land on the other side of the flowers so I could get a picture of all of her. (This Penstemon isn't on my land; I was out for a walk and didn't want to trespass, so I got as close as I could with my zoom lens). And look...I think she's wearing red shoes! Probably Manolo Buzzniks, hee hee.

There are over 120 species of Bombus bimaculatus in the North American West, and 70 species in the North American East. Amazingly, there are 15 species in the Artic! I have heard them referred to as the Goodyear Blimp wearing fuzzy, striped pajamas. However, in my imagination I always picture them wearing sun bonnets, black and yellow gardening dresses and garden clogs on their feet. They probably change into their pajamas when they get home. :D

They're so gentle they're used in commercial greenhouses for pollination. Their motto seems to be "Vos licentia mihi unus, Ego mos licentia vos unus." (You leave me alone, I will leave you alone). Unlike the Honeybee, a Bumblebee's stinger isn't barbed, so if you do anger one...watch out! They can sting you repeatedly without harm to themselves. The poor Honeybee can only sting once and then dies from having its stinger ripped from its body. So unfair!

I'm always charmed when I see and hear Bumblebees bombilating around my garden. Lately, I'm thrilled, too, as Honeybees have been so scarce!

Wordless Wednesday - Ripening

7-28-10 -- OK, not so wordless. I posted this at 12:13 this morning! Blogger does have a mind of its own.

Sunday Sunsets

Taken July 10, 2010, at Lake Arrowhead.

Going, Going...

But not yet gone, thankfully. This forest used to be full of enormous trees like the ones above (I don't know who the man is, but he gives an idea of how tall the trees are) which are a mix of Giant Sequoia, Ponderosa Pine and Western Red Cedar. This is near the Burnt Mill Beach Club, which is on the south side of Lake Arrowhead.

The trees on the hills on the north side of the lake, which actually would be south facing, aren't faring so well.

Before 2000, we had Pine Bark Beetle infestations every 100 years or so, and only a few trees were killed. One could not see the houses in the above photo because they were obscured by the huge trees. And, until the unfortunate building boom that started in the mid 1970's and is, insanely, still going on, most of the houses weren't there. (I'm not talking about families that build one home for themselves, I'm speaking of large scale builders). During the infestation that occurred from 2000 to 2004 the San Bernardino Mountain range lost over 1.5 million trees. There are many houses in the trees that are closest to the lake in this photo, but the trees hide most of them.

But...look closely. Most of the evergreen trees closest to the lake are starting to take on a brownish hue, or their needles are fading from a green so deep it used to look almost black when it was cloudy, to a yellowish-green. These trees aren't being attacked by Pine Bark Beetles; the summers up here have simply warmed too much for them to thrive anymore.

I keep hoping that climate change will give us more rain and snow in the winter than what was normal in the past. I hope that, maybe, more rain would help the trees to cope with the warmer temperatures.

Call it what you want; Global Warming, Climate Change. Whatever it is, it's happening. It's real. It's happening everywhere, whether it's dying forests or melting glaciers or something else. And I can't understand why the leaders of the world aren't making it their number one priority to stop it. Regular people in their daily lives can do a lot, but it isn't going to be enough unless governments around the world rapidly come up with plans to move their countries quickly away from dependence on fossil fuels, and provide viable ways to reverse the warming that has already taken place.

Because even though the forests and glaciers of the world are not gone yet, they are going.

Hot, Hot, HOT

It's so hot here that it seems the air should be the color of the Red Monkeyflowers in the above photo. I took the photo several years ago when I was down in Cleghorn Canyon.

Yesterday it was 90 degrees F on my front porch, which is deeply shaded. Today is not quite as hot; our high was 81. When I walked outside yesterday, I felt like I was walking into an oven! And the humidity was high (for up here) at 57%.

Wretched heat; I detest it. But on the plus side, even though there were lightening storms all over no fires were started in these mountains. According to the news there were 15 started by lightening strikes down the hill. Thankfully, they're all contained now.

I've got my fingers crossed for an early, wet, cold Autumn...

Wordless Wednesday - Earth Star

Bearing Fruit

Look closely (or left click to enlarge) in the center of the photo; you will see a deliriously happy Robin holding a cherry in her (or his) beak. The Robins made good use of the cherries in this tree; when this photo was taken there were over a dozen birds in the tree. Curiously, the Jays, Woodpeckers, and other birds that eat at our feeders were not to be seen. Maybe all the Robins intimidated them. This photo was taken at the beginning of July and within a week the tree was bare.
The tree is a 'volunteer,' which is what I call a plant that decides to grow in my garden on its own. When I moved into this cottage well over thirty years ago, my neighbors, Fred and Beulah, had just planted a cherry tree. Within three years it was bearing fruit. A few years after it started bearing, cherry trees were springing up all over, probably 'planted' by the birds and the squirrels. Sadly, dear Fred and Beulah passed about two years after they planted their tree, within six months of each other. They were in their late eighties. They were two of the kindest people I have ever been fortunate enough to know.
Every time I look at this cherry tree, I bless Fred and Beulah for planting their tree. They never got to taste the delicious fruit from the tree they planted, but they were the kind of people who wouldn't have minded that. I know they're happy that the tree they planted has lived to bear fruit and make other cherry trees. I know they're happy that the trees are providing food for the birds, squirrels, skunks, and raccoons. I've even seen the little forest mice nibbling on the cherries that have fallen to the ground. Of course, I always pick a handful for myself and some to take to my sister.
And, who knows? Maybe Fred and Beulah have tasted the sweet fruit of the tree they planted.