221011 october three-dimensional

Oct. 11

A fox in the sky:

... a fox in the farm yard!

*****

Moon almost full (on the 9th), with a red halo, against the blue and grey clouds, and trees, still in leaf, black against the pale sky. Coyotes sang and another creature wailed, near, just in the valley. A few days in, October became real, lifted itself off the flat paper calendar and became falling leaves, autumn chores, and turning out winter wear. The late-season sun is still warm; the nights, though cold, seem to call one out, to see the moon rising, to look for stars, to listen.

The red, red-yellow, and yellow leaves, suddenly underfoot and on the hills, painted or woven or sewn like rags together, are lovely, because they fall with abandon, letting go, letting fall, like sighing and laughing at once.

*****

Since we returned in September, Rain has come to the vineyard some days to work; she works on-line for a small shipping company. I care for Fox while she is busy; she is nearby if he needs her, but he knows me and is happy to play and go for stroller rides. He really likes stoller rides! Let's you buckle him in the harness and tuck him warm. He chatters and sings while we climb the camp road or bumple across the meadow. We sometimes stop and listen to the ridge creek. He reminds me of my younger brother, but when he was little, as if I remember when I was four and he was one. Climbing the camp road with the stroller is excellent strength-building; it is sometimes steep, and always bumpy and rocky. Fox likes Rocky, the dog, very much, and pets him and climbs on him. He has two dogs at home, so he is used to them. He is learning dog manners and respect, just as they are learning baby-rules. He can duck away from a face-lick fast as can be.

*****

Wanted a piano here at the vineyard. (We have a large Roland in Etobicoke, that we bought in 1982, but I cannot bring it here.) For a few weeks I could not find one that was within my budget, but found this at last. It is a baby, light as a feather, sounds a little like Schroeder's toy piano, but it makes music! (Schroeder of the Peanuts comics.) I can wear earphones so that K is not bothered by the sound, except for the singing. But he puts up with singing all day, since I seldom stop, unless I am talking. I do not play well at all, but I love to find the notes and chords and feel the music in my fingers.

*****

Rocky rolled in deer or cow dung and had a lovely fresh collar of scent, but I had to wash it off, which probably disappointed him. Here on his neck the fur is streaked black so I had a difficult time knowing if it was all clean. He stays calm and allows me to wash him; as in all things, he is well-behaved and tolerant.

Blackie and Rocky are good friends. Blackie comes on our walk almost every day; often we go by his house, up the camp road. Rocky crosses the narrow wood and calls on him and then the two of them come tumbling out onto the road together and race on up the trail.

I think Rocky may be learning to show-off for the camera. Dogs do seem to like to strike a pose, atop a cliff, or on the crest of a hill, staring down at the valley. They know that they look handsome and grave.

Those creatures at the bottom of the meadow, cloaked in black, are not witches gathering weeds, but only wild turkeys scratching about.

*****

Male tomatoes!

...and a shipwreck of "candy roaster" squash. Rain, Tal and Fox joined us for dinner on Monday. It wasn't a big covid stretch because we share a bubble already. It was, nevertheless, a strange experience, setting the table for guests, welcoming them formally into our home. Although Rain and Fox are usually here for her work, last night she was our dinner guest, bringing ("pot luck" style) turkey, gravy and stuffing. I prepared a couple of side dishes, and apple crisp for dessert. Much of the food Rain and Tal harvested on their own farm; the turkey was one of three that they raised this year - the first time they have had turkeys on the farm. That, and the kale, apples, squash and sweet potatoes, all from the farm, made it a meaningful, earth-centred and heart-felt Thanksgiving dinner. (Does making a shipwreck out of a squash count as "playing with your food"?)