Edgar Allan Poe, A Black Cat and Thunderstorms

   For the past few days, we have been getting daily rains complete with thunder, lightning and wind.  The storms are soothing as I know the gardens are being well-watered.  It is during these storms that cat and I sit snuggled together enjoying each other's company.  As Prince of the Bayou, Mr. Bat demands that I hold him tightly on days like this.  He still has throwback anxiety from when some hateful person flung him from a car window during such a storm years ago.  The thunder and lightning do not bother him but the raindrops on the rooftop do.  So, my work day ends and I gladly cuddle the Prince.  What better way to spend a storm than with cat cuddles!

  Yesterday, the snuggles put me in a chair that gave me a direct view of the french doors and their colorful glass panes,  It was not long before the sun peeped out enough to give those panes a delightful glow!  To the left, Edgar Allan Poe watched over us as the lamp softly glowed beneath him.  This vision brought comfort as I thought just how much I like the way the room is decorated.  While not to many people's taste, it suits mine perfectly.  The room is filled with quaint objects such as antique lamps, furniture and clocks...lots and lots of clocks!  Then there are the quirky "finds" from thrift stores, roadsides and friends.  Nothing in this entire room meets the "expected" living room aesthetic...from the almost black walls to the red velvet loveseat and purple chairs.  It is just eccentric and eclectic enough to meet my standards...and Bat, the cat's.  He and I find comfort here among the oddities.

"F" is for Finn!

   I am a bit behind the times with this post but these winter storms, along with marmalade making and cutting firewood, have been keeping me quite busy.  Supposedly another storm is to swoop down this way tomorrow.  I think that one is named Indigo so we have had a few since Old Finn dropped by the Bayou..  (Also, naming these storms makes things easier.  Just like the tropical systems we usually get, having a name tagged on a storm makes it far easier to remember.)  Anyway, it was just before Finn came whipping through the Bayou that I was frantically moving stuff from the greenhouse (used as a place to display the Christmas village) to the upstairs.  The greenhouse is just an old outbuilding that I claimed and was in the process of redoing as my "Swamp Shack" when the idea hit for the village.  Mark always enjoys setting up the town so this was an ideal place for this year. But...those tiny ceramic houses would not stand a chance if Finn decided to demolish the greenhouse/Swamp Shack.  So I toted a whole town upstairs to be stowed away in the closet.  It was while I was upstairs that I noticed the "F"!  Peering out the window, at the drippiness, a perfect letter "F" caught my eye.  Was this some sort of sign that Finn was not going to play nicely?  Was Finn just announcing his arrival by flashing his initial for all to see?  What in the world was an "F" doing in the crape myrtle tree?  I had to investigate.

  After taking a photo through the window and screen. I trotted myself downstairs, out the backdoor, through the garden plot and to the crape myrtle trees.  Yep.  There was an "F" being proudly displayed on the branches but it had no mystical reason for being there.  Apparently, the visit of Ember had knocked down some oak leaves and haphazardly placed them in the branches of the crape myrtle.  There, they dangled for me to see as I peered through the upstairs window.  Nothing magical...no omen...nothing more than oak leaves that were hung by a previous storm.  My brain just sees things a bit differently than what other folks see.  Things like this are interesting enough for me to dawdle around while awaiting a storm just to get a photograph.  

Mountains of Mushrooms!

  This whole summer has seen us in one of the worst droughts on record for the area. It was really strange because folks all around us were getting weekly rains. Here, within one square mile, nothing...nary a drop!  I gave up on the inground gardens, watered the potted plants and put out bins of water for my wild critter friends.  I could not water all of the trees so they soon lost their leaves in an effort to survive. The threat of wildfires kept me raking and mowing like a maniac!  Several mornings, the smell of thick smoke caused me to go into a frenzy of removing dead leaves!  Then, last week, we got rain!  Not much but enough to ease the mind.  For three days, a slow drizzle settled the dirt and the soul.  All in all, we only got a half inch over the course of three days but it was very appreciated.

  During those three drizzly days, the fungi world came alive. The poor things obviously have been sitting dormant for the duration of the drought and, suddenly, were able to burst forth in happiness!  Early one morning, I came across a huge mound of the prettiest, tan-colored mushrooms.  An old, rotted stump had played host to this colony!  As I mentioned, it was huge...a mountain of mushrooms, so it seemed.  The clump was about eighteen inches in height and about that in diameter!  I was enthralled by the find and wanted to find out more about these beauties!

  Pondering just how to go about identifying mushrooms, my thoughts turned to my oldest son.  Mark is up on all sorts of things and is quickly learning about fungi...a newfound interest.  So...I quickly sent him the photographs.  He suggested that these looked a lot like Ringless Honey Mushrooms.  He then asked, "Did you eat them?"  Yeah...sure...I eat all unidentified mushrooms.  NO!  I did not eat them because I had no idea if they were edible.  He then informed me not to eat them raw.  They had to be cooked.  I think I will leave that eating part to him but I was appreciative of the identification.  The name suits them well as they are definitely honey-colored!    Sad to say, a few days later, my mountain of mushrooms had dissolved into a gooey, gelatinous mess!  My pretty, pretty mushrooms were now a fly-covered gunk!  

Batten Down The Hatches!

   I am sitting here listening to the windows rattle as yet another storm system blows through the area.  Bat, the cat, and I are snuggled down while the storms shake the Little Bayou House.  So far, we have been fortunate with only straight line winds and lots of thunder and lightning.  Tornadic activity is all around us, however, so it is a bit nerve racking, to say the least.  Hopefully, this will pass soon and without much damage to anyone.  It is highly reminiscent of a tropical storm.

  I was out earlier today taking a few photos of the azaleas and spirea.  Neither of these will fare well through this wind.  We were only able to enjoy them for a few days but we DID get to enjoy them.  Life is funny that way.  Things come and go quickly.  Be safe, friends.  Be safe.

Not a fun find.

   So the dreary days carry on and I am about as dismal as they come.  While I love a good rainy day, there is too much to be done to be confined indoors.  The gardens are becoming overgrown, the oak leaves are falling in mounds and the garden paths are being washed away by the torrential rains.  I do not need to be stuck indoors while letting the place run amok.

  At one point, I could stand it no longer so I slipped out the back door.  A drizzly rain still fell but I was bound and determined to be outside.  Since working in the Small Gardens was a bad idea, I headed to the woods.  There, the tree canopy would offer some protection...not much...but some.  The ground was soggy causing the footsteps to be muffled.  I am quite sure if Bat, the cat, had not been tagging along with me, my other critter friends would have been freer with their visits.  He has a way of putting a damper on my critter communications...we will have to work on that.  Instead of critter finds, I found something I wish I could have avoided.  Some rather large stinkhorns had popped up right next to the path.  These things were huge at about six inches tall and over an inch in diameter.  This was the first time I have ever noticed this type of stinkhorn and with its proximity to rotting hurricane debris, I had to wonder if perhaps this, too, washed in on the tide.  To be honest, I could have done without finding the stinkhorns.  They are not a favorite for obvious reasons.  Shortly after finding the fungi, Bat, the cat, thought it would be great fun to attack them.  Thus ended my escape.  It was time for a cat bath...not fun, either. 

Lessons from the Herons

   I have often said that not many folks would want to live as I do.  I prefer to not get caught up in the hullabaloo of the modern world.  Yes, I have modern convenience galore but I never wish to be totally dependent on them.  It is my belief that if things ever hit the fan and our current way of life is no more, many folks would not know how to survive.  I want to, at least, have a going chance!  So, I do things, learn things and live things so that nothing is going to be a surprise.  One of the things that has helped me tremendously is watching the critters of the Bayou.  If they can survive the harshness, then perhaps, there is a lesson to be learned...or many lessons, for that matter. 

  This morning was drizzly, not too cold but chilly and windy.  That would not daunt me.  A hike is a daily ritual so a little inclement weather would not stand in the way.  This is when I clear my mind and prepare to face the day no matter what is thrown at me.  In the early morning light, the only other critters out were the birds.  My choice of viewing took a turn to the shorebirds as they hunted breakfast.  The birds knew that they would have to have full bellies to survive the bitter cold that is to fall upon us this evening and linger around for the next few days.  A lovely Snowy Egret stalked tiny minnows in the shallows.  The slight rain did not deter it from its task.  Nor did those raindrops hamper the fishing of the Great Blue Heron.  As do most herons, these two were slowly...very slowly stalking their prey.  They move through the waters with grace and then the head plunges and the sharp bill snaps closed.  Success!  One fish to start the meal.  Neither bird seemed to notice the other as they waded down the shore line.  Both fully preparing for what was to come.

  Folks, this is how we should be.  We should be intent on preparing for ourselves and not be bickering with each other.  If we minded our own business and took care of ourselves, we would be far better.  Life would be much simpler. There are great lessons to be learned and great deeds to be done.  Live happy. 

Curiosity of the Hobgoblins!

   Although some folks would agree with "the weather went downhill quickly", I am one who loves a good rainy day.  The garden needed the water and I needed to stay out of the garden so it worked out well.  I was up before dawn trying to find what critter attacked the Little Bayou House last night.  Along about midnight, there came such a ruckus that I literally thought someone was breaking down the door.  Nope...had to be a critter or a very inept burglar.  Nothing showed evidence of the misdeed even though it sounded like something ripping the siding from the house or maybe the subfloor or even the roof.  I could not distinguish exactly where the loud noises were so the investigating had to wait for morning and I had to hope for the best.  

  After meandering around the house with a flashlight, I headed to the pier.  The weatherman called for rain so I felt perhaps that was the only time I would have to feel the breeze on my face.  The clouds were incredibly dark and very ominous.  Rain had fallen off and on during the night and, before I could get back up the hill, it started again.  Wow!  That was COLD!  

  As soon as it was light enough, I surveyed the house again and never found a single thing amiss.  Had Son not heard the ruckus, I would have thought perhaps I imagined it or had dreamt it.  Now, we sit back waiting to see (or hear) if our hobgoblin comes again.   I am curious.

It Is Raining Frogs!

   I get the giggles whenever someone tells me that it "rained" frogs.  What are they thinking?  I guess frogs go to great heights to lay those eggs.  I know they want fresh water (mostly) and, well, clouds are about the freshest there is but logic tells you that it does NOT rain frogs. It is not unconceivable that a strong wind or tornado might have picked up some hapless creatures and dumped them somewhere but literally raining frogs (or fish or any other creature) is not a thing. Those tiny frogs that are out and about after a rainy spell merely morphed at the opportune time to get out of their bog and explore the yard or perhaps they were literally washed out of their habitat.   It is a great time for them to be out hunting since insects are being washed off of plants and as a lot of larger predators are seeking shelter.  The little froglets and "toadlets" can feel relatively safe as they find their first meals.

  The storm that sits over the Bayou (and has been for the past few days) has brought out all sorts of critters.  On a quick hike about the place, I felt almost like a murderer!  I could not help but step of hundreds of baby toads and frogs.  (Thank goodness they are squishable and can still survive!) The yard was literally covered with the creatures.  The toads were only about the size of a pea! Thousands upon thousands were hippity-hopping everywhere.  It was the massive amount and the recent rains that made me think about those who truly believe frogs come from clouds.  Some folks just ain't right in the head.  Go find any puddle that has been sitting for longer than a week and you will find the source of the critters.  Tadpoles!  Tadpoles, my friends, reside in water!  Not clouds.  Not the sky...what a mess that would be.  Geez!

The "Rain Forest"

  For the past three days, it has rained...a LOT!  In fact, we have gotten nigh on a foot of rain according to the rain gauge attached to the garden fence post.  Throw in the fact that it is in the forecast for us to have rain for the next three days and you can imagine how wet things are here.  You can also probably imagine just how shabby the yard looks.  All of this fine rain has made the plants slap happy so everything has grown a foot or so.  This would be alright if I was able to push that lawnmower or run the weed trimmer.  Poor Son will have to tackle the chore himself come the first dry day.  My work efforts are still limited so I am no use whatsoever.  

  While strolling through my queendom of the Small Gardens, I was able to venture out the gate for a few moments.  This took me to the back of the greenhouse where just last night, the Night-blooming Cereus plants were in full bloom.  The huge, saucer-sized flowers were a thrill to see and I was ever so thankful for Son.  His steady, strong arms guided me to the perfect spot to photograph the blooms.  He, also, took photographs in case mine were shaky.  The blooms were truly breathtaking and the outing was invigorating.  

   During the few moments we were there, he and I both noticed that the plants on that back deck were enormous!  The rain obviously agreed with them.  Just a week ago, it was easy to maneuver on the little porch but now there was  little room to even get to the doorway.  It was a jungle back there!!!  My secluded oasis had turned into a "rain" forest!  I need to hurry and heal so I can get back to caring for my plants as they could all use a good trimming.  The Small Gardens shall have to wait a bit longer but the Queen shall soon return! .Perhaps I should add Queen of the Back "Rain" Forest to my title!  I am gradually increasing my realm!

There is power in the rain!

  There are those who do not like the rain as it interrupts their day.  Personally, I think it makes mine.  I prefer rain or storms or fog....anything to change things up a bit.  The hurricane that hit Texas has supplied us with lots of rain for the past two days.  We have had close to nine inches since Thursday.  While this may cause problems for those in low lying areas, here it simply runs off into the Bayou.  The hill provides protection for the Little Bayou House.  

  Early this afternoon, a deluge kept on for over an hour.  This made the Small Gardens off-limits.  I felt a bit more confined than usual.  After having my normal free range of the Bayou and surrounding woods temporarily taken from me, having the Small Gardens taken away seemed strangely unfair.  To make myself feel somewhat better, I slipped out the french doors and sat on the front steps.  The covered arbor provided a bit of shelter from the rain as it was coming straight down.  Nary a breeze blew with this squall.  I was able to breathe in the clean, rain-washed air and listen to the roar as the drops pounded the canvas topping.  It was incredible!  It was invigorating!  I needed it.

  Sometimes, it takes a good storm to refresh our attitudes.  Just as the rain washes the earth, the storm washes away the doldrums.  After my brief outing, I was able to return inside with a new outlook.  Things are not so difficult.  I will survive this adversity!  As Queen of the Small Gardens, I shall survive this newfound trial of my endurance!  Rainy days were made to empower!

Cristobal, you can leave now!

  Well, Tropical Storm Cristobal came to visit the Bayou and is stirring up a tad bit of trouble before he makes his exit.  Yes, I do know that the storm "officially" made landfall in Louisiana but, like I said before, that put us on that right side...the side you do not want to be on during any tropical system.  Why?  Because in any typical storm, that upper right quadrant (our side in this case just like in Hurricane Katrina) is the side that catches the brunt of the wind, tidal surge and rain.  The area that is impacted by the right side of a tropical system in the Atlantic Basin, is in for trouble.  We got trouble by the buckets!  Rain...lots and lots of rain fell on the area and that created flooding and wind..sometimes gusting nigh on to hurricane force, pushed even more water into our area.  In fact, as of this writing, the rain gauge reads a little over 8 inches. This flooding is not going to go away for a while.  Here on the Bayou, we are lucky.  We live on a hill that overlooks the Bay and Bayou.  While the tidal surge came and is slowly receding at this time, the rain filling the creek that empties into the back of the Bayou is causing trouble for those behind us.  Here, the rain slides off into the Bay.  Others are not so fortunate.  The water from rivers, creeks, ponds and any low spots just pools and then floods into houses.  Not good.  

  The pier seems to have taken a beating and planks have wandered off to parts unknown.  Those will have to be replaced.  Hopefully, (I cannot tell yet as water is still covering it) the base structure of the pier is still intact.  Planks can be replaced with a little hard work.  The gardens look a whole lot worse for wear.  The wind has pretty much tattered the plants.  Again, with a little hard work, those can be replaced.  Son and I worked throughout the storm to keep things together.  Several times, we had to brave the pelting rains and high winds to hoist the skiffs a bit further up the hill until we finally just chained the boats to a sturdy oak tree.  Enough of that!  

  Tomorrow will find us with more rain and occasional fierce winds but hopefully the storm surge will be down.  Cleaning up the debris line across the front and side yards will have to wait until Cristobal decides to make a full exit.  As I am writing, the winds are still rapping at the windows and rain is continually pelting the rooftop.   Some of these storms just refuse to leave!

Thankful of the rain!

  Folks, when it is dry, don't burn.  It only takes a wee bit of commonsense to understand that fires have a way of spreading during dry weather.  Let one spark lift up into the wind and devastation can be the result.  Just don't.  If there is a burn ban issued, don't even use that cute little outdoor fireplace.  Your entertainment can leave folks homeless or even cause death.  Just don't.  If the leaves crunch underfoot, don't burn trash (even in a container.)  Your yard cleanup could result in hundreds of acres of forest lost due to wildfires and thousands of animals horribly killed.  Just don't.  One tossed cigarette, one small fireworks (bottle rocket), one careless act...puts firemen in extreme danger.  Just don't.

  This past weekend, a fire raged through the woods not far from us.  Scuttlebutt has it that someone decided to burn leaves even though a burn ban was in effect.  Acre upon acre scorched as the fire went crazy with the high winds.  Flames shot nigh on seventy feet into the air.  Homes, churches and businesses were threatened to be caught up in those flames but, thanks to the brave firefighters, were saved.  It was a careless act that should never have occurred.

  Last night, it rained.  This rain was a blessing, not only for the exhausted firefighters that were still watching "hot spots" but to all of us who have wooded areas.  Watching the videos of the fire just to the west of us, caused an uneasiness to settle in as it could very well have been here.  When I heard the first raindrops pelting the rooftop, I said a prayer of thanks and know full well that prayer was being repeated the Coast over.   I have always been thankful for the rain but, in times like this, it has never been more beautiful. 

A Bit Of Red On A Gray Day

  While my mood has not lifted, I am going through the motions of the holidays.  The Little Bayou House is as decorated as it is going to get, hundreds of cookies have been baked and the few gifts wrapped.  It is going to be a very....very....quiet Christmas here on the Bayou this year.  Family members all have other plans so Santa will not be filling stockings at our mantel this year.  Instead, the time may be spent thinking of how to go about improving myself a bit.  I might as well get a jump on those New Year's resolutions!

  The weather, however, is a different story.  Most folks would say differently as we have had a cold, drizzly rain for the past two days.  Personally, it made me feel better.  Hearing the rain pelt the rooftop made me stop and smile at least a dozen times today.  If it could rain every day this week, perhaps my disposition would improve.  No one has ever claimed that I have a "sunny disposition" anyway so I might as well go for it!  Gray suits me fine.

  Early this morning, I braved the drizzle to go check on the small skiff moored at the pier.  There were a few ducks out in the middle of the Bay but none close enough to photograph.  Even my sweet little marsh rail was laying low and could not be found. Perhaps she had taken shelter beneath the heavy marsh mats and was keeping snug.  There was nothing interesting to be found so I made my way back up the pier.  Then!  A bright splash of red made me think of the Season being celebrated.  A small Yaupon tree grows at the foot of the pier and its berries were finally ripe.  The berries were dripping with water droplets from the mist causing them to look as if they were wearing jewels.  I was tempted to snap off a few branches to add to the pine boughs in the entryway but decided against it.  The berries were better suited as food for the cedar waxwings that should be on their way to the Bayou.

  ~As an added note, Yaupon berries are toxic and should not be eaten.  Using the berries as seasonal decorations should be done with care if you have small children or pets in your house.  The berries have a tendency to drop rather quickly and can be a temptation due to their bright hue.  

Thank a Strider!

  It seems strange to me that vultures get such a bad rap and folks find them disgusting.  Face it.  The birds do us a huge favor by cleaning up roadkill.  It is their nature to circle an area until they find the opportune moment to swoop down and feed.  Turkey vultures have a keen sense of smell that leads them to dead animals.  Black vultures' sense of smell is not nearly as good so they have learned to follow the turkey vultures to a kill.  Both types will follow predators around and simply steal the prey if given the opportunity.  The sheer number of vultures approaching is often enough to intimidate a small predator into giving up its supper.  These birds are sort of the garbagemen of the avian world. Without them, we would find far more dead critters about the place. The vultures do a grand job of cleaning up what others leave behind.

  This all leads me to what I call "pond vultures".  These are not birds but rather insects.  Pond skippers, pond skimmers, water walkers, Jesus bugs or water striders...call them what you will but they are pretty much the vultures of the pond.  They clean up the place.  The water striders eat anything that hits the water.  Let the surface wiggle just a bit and dozens of the striders will scurry across the top of the water to investigate.  If it is what they deem edible, the bugs will immediately set to work devouring their prize.  One big difference between the striders and vultures is that the striders will also take live prey and will attack an insect that is much larger than themselves.  Here again, the numbers are the key.  Let a larger insect alight on the water's surface and dozens upon dozens of the striders will launch an attack.  

  With all of the rain for the past few days, the water striders are not only busy in the Frog Pond, they are occupying puddles.  Any standing water is home to these critters which is a good thing as they eat a lot of mosquito larvae which also dwell in any standing water.  The "pond vultures" are not choosy!  So, if you see one of these critters, let them live and even thank them that there are a few less mosquitoes biting you! 

Not A Dragonfly!

  The threat of a tropical storm hitting the Bayou has come and gone.  Things got a bit squally but that was about it which was good for us.  Others to our west are not faring so well.  Our damage was nothing more than losing a few boards off the pier and sustaining a bad case of cabin fever.  I took advantage of every break in the torrential rains to slip outside to "breathe" and poke around a bit.  All of this staying inside has my brain in a constant state of perplexity.  I needed to roam...so I did.  I, also, got soaking wet and had to change clothes six times today but it was well worth all of the laundry! 

  Down along the marsh edge, the waters flooded in and kept things interesting.  Critters of all sorts kept surprising me by scurrying out of my way.  At one point, what appeared to be a small dragonfly of some sort landed on my arm.  It fluttered haplessly against the wind so I figured the poor thing needed the resting spot.  It is in my nature to help critters of all kinds so I  tried to shelter it from the rain and wind.  Once we (the critter and I) made it to the greenhouse, things were a bit calmer and I actually had a chance to look at my hitchhiker.  This was not a dragonfly nor a damselfly!  I had picked up the adult version of an antlion!

  Antlions spend most of their time in the larvae state.  Around here, they can be found in sandy areas.  It is easy to recognize their presence as they make "funnel" traps to catch prey.  The larva creates a funnel-shaped divot in the sand and when an ant wanders in, the antlion flicks sand up the side to create an avalanche.  The sliding sand sends the ant right into the jaws of the antlion!  Once the larva turns into an adult, it is rarely seen since it is a nocturnal creature.  I happened upon this one in the late evening.  

  After admiring the critter, I released it under the edge of the Little Bayou House where it could be sheltered until its wings gained strength and the weather settled down a bit.  Tonight, the antlion adult will take flight in search of a mate.  

 

Fishing for memories!

  For the past several days, the Bayou has seen its share of stormy weather.  Nothing terrible but just enough to keep us inside.  Mark and I make short (quick) trips to the pier to check the small skiff but usually get chased in by the rain.  Not only has there been copious rainfall, the wind has been churning up the Bay.  This is all good by me but has Mark a bit antsy.  He wanted to go fishing!  It is a no-go, however, as the skiff bounces around like a toy boat in a whirlpool!  It just is not safe.

  This morning, that desire to fish got the best of him.  While on the pier, he threw the net a few times  "just to see if there is anything out there".  Well, there was not much.  He caught one small croaker and that was it!  The croaker was photographed then released.  It happily swam away unscathed.  That croaker got me thinking of days passed when my cousin and I would paddle out in (of all things, a molded plastic lifeboat that we called "The Bathtub").  We were young...probably too young to be out in the middle of the Bay by ourselves but times were different then.  We never felt that we were in danger and I am sure my aunt kept a watchful eye on us from her kitchen window. 

  Croakers were the prize we were set to catch.  They were quick to bite and easy to hook.  Just about anything could be used as bait as they were not picky.  It was our goal to catch as many as we could in the short time we were allowed to fish.  Usually, we were told to be home before noon as the fish had to be cleaned for lunch.  Neither of us had a watch so our "alarm" was Aunt Marie letting out a yell for us to come home.  Her voice would carry across the open Bay with no problems.  We, then, would paddle back home with our catch.  The fish were cleaned and Aunt Marie would fry them.  It was then our job to get back in that little boat and paddle down the shoreline to my uncle's place.  He was building a house there and had little time to cook lunch.  We toted it to him.  Croakers were on the menu quite often.

  It is funny how seeing the pretty, little fish with its golden scales started the flood of memories.  Those were good times...happy, carefree times.  Margie and I had no worries, no fears.  Unlike kids today, we spent our summers outside not cooped up inside glued to some electronic device.  We played, roamed the woods, fished in the Bay and generally were just being kids.  I miss those days.

Floods, 'shrooms and old dogs

  Mississippi is flooding!  Most of the middle and southern part of the state seems to have acquired enough rain to fill our rivers and creeks to over flood stage. They are spilling out of their banks and turning the once dry land into one big lake.  Houses are under, camp grounds are under, railroad tracks are undermined causing derailments and major highways seemingly just plain do not exist anymore.  While all of this is happening around us, being on the Bayou has actually helped us.  The copious amounts of rainfall did not harm our hillside in any way, shape or form.  The water simply ran down the hill and into the Bayou and Bay.  We may be the target of tidal surges with hurricanes but rainfall fueled flooding is not a worry.  My heart breaks for those targeted by the storms, however, and will step up to help in any way.

  All of this rain has made me a bit more cautious as I am out and about with the old dog.   As with any dog, Mr. PJ has a tendency to sniff and taste just about anything in his path and that includes mushrooms.  The rains caused mushrooms to pop out overnight so this morning, I had to be vigilant in my watch over him.  He definitely does not need to take a nip of a poisonous 'shroom!  

  These mushrooms almost seemed to "glow" in the darkness of the early morn.  The heavily overcast skies kept it dark until mid morning.  This was especially noticeable at daybreak when I ushered the old dog out the door for his morning business.  As I wandered around behind the dog on mushroom watch, I noticed bright white blobs in the distance.  Yep, it was time to steer Mr. PJ in the opposite direction!  I am not up on my fungi so deciphering which are toxic and which are safe is not a strong point and not something I trust myself in doing.  Avoiding a potential harmful situation is the best way I know how to handle it.  I do have to admit that the mushrooms were quite pretty, however, in their own 'shroomy way.

Drippy, Drippy, Drippy!

  Back in October, I was happily munching on the wild persimmons that grow beside the path near the marsh. These little golden blobs are sort of an acquired taste since they can be quite tart or astringent at times. To me, they are perfect.  It was. also, at this time that I cut open the seeds to see the "weather forecast" for the coming winter months.  There were spoons.  For those who are not familiar with this folklore, cut open the seeds and you will find cutlery.  A knife means stabbing cold, a spoon represents snow (or, in our case, rain) and a fork means warm.  I found spoons....lots and lots of spoons.  Nary another utensil showed.  I pondered this.

  Well, so far this winter, we have had rain...lots and lots of rain.  In fact, I think this has to be one of the wettest winters on record for the Deep South.  It has also been warm.  My old wood-burning stove has only been used a handful of times this season.  I have only burned two wheelbarrows of firewood and some of that was more for ambiance than heat.  

  As I write, it is pouring rain once again.  Our temperatures hover around the mid 60s both day and night.  When it is not raining, it is foggy.  Pea soup thick fog blankets the entire Bayou.  The humidity is a stifling to a point that we finally broke down and bought a dehumidifier for the living room.  It works great if you can get past the idea of having to empty the thing.  The "empty" alarm sounds just about every 6 hours....day and night just to keep the indoor humidity a around a 50% level in that one room.  Honestly...when you hear folks down here say "Its not the cold.  It is the humidity." or, in the summer, "It is not the heat.  It is the humidity.", believe us.  We speak the truth.

On this...I shall pass for now.

  Growing up and following Granddad around as he worked, I learned many things.  He taught me woodworking when others thought I was too young, instructed me on how to properly groom a dog and made sure I knew enough edible wild plants to survive if I ever became stranded somewhere.  All of these things have come in handy over the years and I always think of how I was one fortunate youngster to have such a dutiful grandfather.  I still love to tinker in the workshop and can brush a dog with the best of them.  That wildcrafting has to be my favorite lesson, however.  Finding free food is always good...sort of....

  While out with the old dog this morning, Mark and I came across a fallen branch that was covered with a fungus called Tree Ear.  While this stuff may be rather disgusting in appearance and even more so in texture, it is edible.  No, I have not tried it since I do find it rather unappetizing in appearance and it is supposedly rather tasteless.  Still, if I ever become lost in the woods, I will feast!  This stuff is everywhere especially during rainy weather.

  Another strange thing about the Tree Ear is that, for years and years, folks believed that it had healing powers for earache.  The idea was "plants that look like body parts can be used to heal that body part."  Maybe?  An elderly lady who lived down the road from us once told me that it was great.  "Wash some Tree Ear.  Put it in hot milk and let it steep for a couple of hours. Add some garlic and soap and let sit again.  Warm it up again and then take it out and strain it.  Wrap the warm mushroom in a handkerchief and place it on your ear.  It will make the earache go away almost instantly."  Do what??  Several questions here.  Why milk?  Why garlic?  Why soap?  What kind of soap?  How does it work?  Answers...."Milk makes it sweet.  Garlic helps heal. Why not soap? Any old soap.  It just does."   She was quite adamant that this actually worked but I never even think about trying it when I get an earache.  Perhaps I should but, then again, she was a rather quirky old lady and may have just been making this up on the fly.

  The Tree Ear fungus remained on the broken branch with all of its sliminess.  Thankfully, I had no problems with my ears today so I was not inclined to follow this home remedy.  I did check and found it is edible, however...good to know...I guess.

Web Roofs!

  Hiking after a night of rain makes for interesting finds.  The pine needle covered ground is saturated and that muffles the footsteps, the leaves on trees drip with jewels of raindrops and spiderwebs become diamond-encrusted lace.  It is those spiderwebs that tend to draw the eye toward them out of curiosity.  Where is that spider??  Most spiders on the Bayou are friendly enough that they do not cause worry but it is still wise to be careful of their whereabouts.  There is no need to have one climbing up the pants leg or going down the back of the shirt!

  While out on a hike to the back of the property, Mark and I found numerous ground webs.  These spiderwebs are spun on the ground and have a hole in the middle through which the spider can pounce on its prey.  The web is strung between sticks, blades of grass or fallen leaves.  They are thick heavy webs unlike those delicately spun hung webs.  While the spider is usually unseen, if you look carefully, it can be spied lurking near the center hole.  Once prey ventures onto the web, the vibrations alert the spider and it can come scurrying out to catch the critter.  Also, the web provides protection for the spider.  It is sort of a roof over its head!  Not only does it shield the spider from raindrops, it gives the spider a sporting chance of escape if it is attacked.

  The ground was covered with such webs after the rain. Each held up well under the torrential downpour and each spider was happily snug.