Brightly colored flying bouquets

It was good to be home but Willow is upset again because of what she views as invasions.  I wish I could teach her to be less timid and less terrified of people she doesn’t know.  She has finally adjusted to Dale and no longer runs and hides when he comes in to work on Monday. Both the boys like him a lot.  Mingus sometimes sits on his lap. But all the people who have been here recently, the 3-day installation of 15 windows, the staining of them for 4 days, the week building of a new front porch and stairs leading down to the turnaround, company for meals, and this week the switching of internet providers  has caused her great fear.  She hides much of the time. I feel bad for her but don’t know what I can do about it. Cat daddy’s advice assumes she is reachable, but Willow hides in the wall.Woody has put two of our three vegetable gardens to sleep for the winter – pulling the remnants, mulching the rhubarb, then digging in manure and lime to the main garden and the lower garden.  My garden of raised beds is still active.  Cole crops like Chinese cabbage, parsnips, salad greens, cilantro, leeks, Brussels sprouts and Swiss chard are all still growing and producing.  We even got the last of my cayenne peppers before the frost this week.  I’ve never had so man hot peppers. I’ve frozen, dehydrated and just stuck some in the refrigerator and given away multitudes to friends.  We had very happy hot pepper plants.It has been quite cold, although today was a bit milder and wet until afternoon when it got cold and very windy.  I am still bringing winter stuff out of hall storage.  We are having an unusually wet fall, with storms every couple of days.  High winds today.  We may lose power.   We may have gotten snow during the night – most of New England did, including much of Cape Cod – but it all melted before we got up. I see some hunters out already, the bow and arrow guys.  They often wear camouflage and seem in some cases to be playing some semi-military game, as if they were ever in danger [except from other hunters] from the deer. I dislike them because they’re stealthy and because they don’t always kill the deer.  I’ve found dying deer in agony on several occasions over the years with arrows stuck in them. The hunter left them to crawl off and die slowly. I’m fond of the deer and never object to what they eat.  There’s plenty to spare.I’ve been reading WILD RIDE, written some years ago by Ann Auerbach about the Kentucky Blue Grass horse ‘industry.’  Interesting if a bit slow.  Dale lent it to me. I finished Wren Tuatha’s poetry manuscript that is going to be published by Finishing Line Press and gave her a blurb, although it wasn’t simple because of the Camp Fire that wiped out their home and everything in it including Wren’s computer.  They got out with their goats and what they were wearing.  Finally we connected today.We’re hoping for a quiet weekend to get some of the remaining work done outside before the ground freezes.  It’s supposed to be wintry cold this coming week, below freezing several days as well as the nights. Melenie and Jay are coming for Thanksgiving.  Melenie will help me cook.  Wednesday I’ll make strawberry mousse and apple-cranberry sauce.  I’m going to try a dry brine this year, so I’ll get that rub on during Tuesday. That leaves the pumpkin pie, the turkey, stuffing, a fancy bean salad, the stuffed pumpkin and hors d’ouevres for Thursday.  I haven’t decided if we need a starch.  There will be seven of us. Schwartzie, who says he is a lover, not a hunter [he leaves that to the girls] is wooing Xena.  Every time she lies down someplace, he waits a short while and then joins her. He is always rubbing against her, kissing her when she lets him.  She accepts his attentions but doesn’t initiate anything. She accepts his overtures as her due. Willow finally resumed sleeping at least part of the night with me last night.  Before all the ‘invasions’ as she sees workers, she was spending the whole night with me.Now is the season of no flowers.  I miss them.  But we have many birds at the feeders and they are brightly colored, flying bouquets.  I appreciate any color when the leaves have fallen and become sodden and the landscape turns chiaroscuro.