Grapefruit Trees and Rebar...The Odd Pair!

  The oddities found on the Bayou never fail to intrigue me.  By oddities, I am referring to things found where they do not belong.  Sure, I find the occasional trowel on a tree stump or perhaps part of my lawnmower in the bushes (different story but still interesting) but those are nothing compared to say a filet knife found on the rooftop!  I have yet to figure out how that got there and whether I have some unknown enemy out there threatening my wellbeing with a filet knife! Still, these things are interesting, to say the least.

  Today's find?  Well...a piece of rebar.  While that, in itself, is not the most unusual find, the whereabouts of said rebar is.  What in the world was a piece of rebar doing up in the top of the grapefruit tree???  That...my friends...is the question of the day!

  Mark finally took the notion to cut out the dead parts of the citrus trees.  Termites had taken up residence in the roots of the trees and pretty much killed the grapefruit trees.  (Who says that citrus oil helps prevents an infestation??  Yeah, I read that somewhere.  Definitely not true.)  Anyway, as he cut the thirty foot tall trees down, a piece of rebar came tumbling to the ground.  Thankfully, it did not hit anyone or anything as it plummeted to the ground.  

  The rebar is bent into a lovely hook-shape making me ponder if someone had tried to use it to shake down fruit at some point.  It is approximately twenty-one inches long so is quite large.  I asked Son, since he has always picked the fruit from these huge trees for us, but he says that he always just climbed the trees.  Yep, that is something that I can vouch for as I am the one to "catch" those hefty fruits as he tosses them from the treetops.  Mark said he did not attempt such a dangerous game of tossing a rebar thirty feet into the air and I know I could never heave that thing up there.  This leaves me one conclusion...perhaps the rebar was hung on a low limb when the tree was small and then hoisted as the tree grew?  Who knows???  Surely, it was not the same culprit that left the knife on the rooftop....you think?  

  All is well that ends well, however.  The grapefruit trees are thinned of dead wood and the danger of the rebar hook has now passed.  Still...lingering questions....always lingering questions!

All Choked Up...

   You can catch some of the oddest critters when throwing the net from the pier.  In fact, I never know exactly what might be in the catch.  Everything from the tiniest pipefish to a monster of a snapping turtle have been hauled to the pier.  Pipefish...I can handle.  Snapping turtles...I cannot.  Those critters tear up the entire net and are a pain to set free.  Not something I relish.  

  For the past week or so, some schools of shrimp have been making their way through the Bay and that calls for the locals to head down to their piers with the nets.  We never catch huge amounts but we are grateful for any we do.  During those throws we find our odd critters.  Yesterday's oddity (somewhat) is known as a hogchoker.  Mark caught several and I finally convinced him to get a photograph for me as my camera was safe inside the house.  The hogchoker is native here.  It is perhaps the flattest fish in these parts even more than the flounder.  A hogchoker only gets about 5 inches in length and is quite camouflaged in color.  This coloring allows it to blend well with the muddy bottoms where it hides.  Like all other flat fish, when it is born it has an eye on either side of its body but the "bottom" eye migrates to the top of the fish before it is a month old or about 1/2 inch in length.  Pretty cool!

  When my kids were little, they loved playing with the tiny hogchokers.  While I was throwing the net, a bucket of water and a few hogchokers kept the kiddos entertained.  After they played with the "suckerfish" (their name) for a while, they knew to return them to the same place where we caught them.  Odd critters make wonderful babysitters and provide plenty of learning experiences.  Teach 'em young, folks.  Teach 'em young!  

"Best Kind of Gift"

   A couple of years ago, I was talking with my brother and he made the comment that he did not want gifts of "things I have to put in the house" for Christmas.  It seems that he is in about the same boat I am in with the house filled to the max.  There IS no room for anything else.  I keep telling folks to stop giving me things that take up space.  Don't buy me some cutesy knickknack because you have no idea what to bring...bring yourself.  That is it.  Both my brother and I have come to realize that "things" are not what are needed.  Kindness is.  So, I vowed to not get him anything that needed to be put "in" the house.  Instead, I found a way to let him know that my heart wishes him well but without the needless buying of things.  It has become a custom for me to give him hurricane debris!  Yep, hurricane debris!

  Storms have a tendency to wash just about everything imaginable up in the yard on the tidal surge.  That stuff gets stuck and it is a chore to clear it.  So, I hit upon the idea of giving it as a gift!  Now before you think I merely haul a wheelbarrow of garbage to his house, let me explain.  My brother loves all things to do with our Coastal living especially the overlooked things.  So, I have taken to salvaging driftwood from the storm surge lines and creating some oddity to give him.  We get a good laugh and then, if the whim strikes him, he can use the piece as firewood.  (I always remind him of that option!)  As an example, last year I created a life sized Great Blue Heron out of driftwood.  Life sized as in 4ft tall!   He loved it!  The crazy bird still stands on his deck with its head stretched high as it looks over the Bay.  In fact, he claims that everyone that visits loves his bird.  Aww...now I feel pretty good about that debris!

  This year, in keeping with the theme, I decided to get in the holiday spirit and make a Christmas Tree of sorts for him.  Again, that hurricane debris driftwood came into play.  The tree was put together with screws and jute string, strung with some mini lights and draped with Spanish moss.  I topped it with a rubber starfish that has been "floating" around here for years and tied on some shells as ornaments.  Once finished, I hauled the 3ft tall tree over to his place.  Yep...he loved it and immediately hung it on the wall of his porch.  Each evening, those little lights twinkle brightly as the glorified sticks of driftwood hold the decorations. 

  All of this just goes to show that Christmas is in the heart not in your hand.  Give something that shows you care.  Hurricane debris gifts?  Yep, I care enough to get creative with the "firewood" I give to him.  We both get a good laugh and lots of hugs.  You might be wondering what he gave to me?  Well, my gift is a bunch of really neat pieces of an antique chandelier that he found.  He handed me a box of the dismantled light parts and I was thrilled.  He knows how much I like to repurpose old things in my creations!  My head is already spinning with ideas of how to use the treasures!  Merry Christmas, folks.  Don't give cluttering gifts...give time...give love...give from the heart...or....give hurricane debris!  It is great to have a brother who can find the love behind a gift of driftwood.

Curiosities? Needful Things? Junk?

   Finding long lost treasures is always exciting but, on the other hand, finding a tin of junk is often merely a bepuzzlement.  What do you do with the oddities that have been stuck aside for so long that they become treasures from a time past?  Are they still treasures?  Are they now junk?  Should those items be kept or coldheartedly thrown in the trash bin?  Oh, the conundrum of those of us who have been deemed to be hoarders.   I sort of "inherited" a bunch of "treasures" from the old farm place, although, many did not originate there.  Mom held onto many items that came from old houses in Biloxi.  Pop was always doing some home repair work as a side job and often folks would have him empty out spare rooms, garages or sheds.  He was to haul off what they discarded.  He did.  He brought it home.  Mom saved treasures!  I inherited said treasures.  These have been sitting in the Little Bayou House for some 30 yrs since.

  As the long needed repairs are still being done on the Little Bayou House, I have found such treasures.  The one in question of today is a tin that once held mints. The tin, itself, probably has some value to collectors.  It is labeled "Katharine Beecher" and, at one time, held butter mints...or "The original butter mints...since 1931".  I found it amusing that the tin held "4 strengths of mint...colors...white, pink, green and yellow".  Perhaps the color represented a strength.

  The cannister is only the vessel that holds a myriad of treasures.  It is filled with broken or odd pieces of jewelry, small household items and other unusual, unidentified items.  While the collective worth of the items is probably questionable...what is the value?  Yes, there is a big difference.  Worth pertains to the monetary cost of an item, whereas, the value is more of an emotional attachment or the usefulness of an item.  So..when looking at the cost...the combined worth of the tin and items is probably not much.  The value, as far as emotional attachment, is probably nil.  BUT!  That usefulness may trump all as I have a profound interest in creating art pieces with such oddities!  It is my idea that the pieces can be turned into something useful and, yet, retain the original beauty.  The pieces shall not be altered beyond recognition but shall be showcased for the craftmanship of the original artist.  These, and many of the other "treasures" held in the Little Bayou House, are soon to become pieces that celebrate the past. 

  Ahh, yes!  I am the "Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things"!  The Little Bayou House is a "House of Curiosities and Otherwise Forgotten Things" where folks can wander off into a place that often mesmerizes and overloads the senses with wonderment.  Yes...those things have been mentioned by visitors and I am good with it.  I figure if I cannot (and do not want) have the cookie-cutter style and boringly bare house that others find so appealing, I may as well surround myself with the mysteriousness of the unusual.  I am not opposed to those who love that style but it is not for me!  Mint tins, old jewelry, loudly ticking clocks, musty, old books, unexplained implements and artisan pieces make me happy.  Dangle pendants from the lampshade!  Fill shelves with artifacts!  Display early photographs of family members (even if they are not family members but photos that have been around so long they have become "like" family).  Celebrate history by preservation.  Enjoy whatever it is that makes you smile....whatever "speaks" to you.  Why not be happy?  Why even try to please others? Be yourself and do whatever it is that makes you feel good.  Life is too short.  

It Is Me

  The rains from Hurricane Nicholas have reached the Bayou with a vengeance.  This is fine with me as I needed a break from outdoor chores and, at the same time, needed time to do some indoor ones.  The past few days have seen me painting all of the trim work in the dining room.  This includes painting the stair rails which, to be honest, is a task I deplore!  Painting those spindles is a pain.  I have no choice but to paint since they were painted before we installed them some forty years ago.  That is one of the bad parts about using reclaimed lumber.  You have to deal with paint, nail holes and all of the dents and dings of time.  Still, that is what makes the Little Bayou House comfy.  The quirkiness of the whole place brings a smile...at least, to me.

  The bad thing about all of this rain is our internet is spotty.  The lines are still down since Hurricane Zeta and do not appear to be something the cable company is keen on repairing.  So, we deal with it.  It is nice that our power lines have been repaired since that hurricane was almost a year ago. That thought crossed my mind as I turned on all of the odd lamps in the living room. The soft lights gave a certain coziness to the room and blocked out the darkness brought on by the thunderstorms.   By odd lamps, I mean just that.  Every lamp in the room is one that has some weird appeal to me.  There is the old Victorian, hand-painted glass lamp, a floor lamp from my uncle that now is draped with several masquerade masks and some feathers, a desk lamp that sports a beaded rose and an owl feather and yet another floor lamp that is a marriage of the base and lamp itself.  The base is an antique one from my grandparents that had somehow lost the light and the lamp is a hanging, beaded light from my daughter's room when she was a teenager.  Of course, that meant it had to be purple.  The stand is draped with an odd assortment of antique jewelry, a Christmas ornament and some cloisonne` bells.  It makes me happy so the quirkiness stays. 

  Recently, someone remarked that the oddities in the Little Bayou House made it inviting.  Well, maybe but not many folks venture down here.  The eccentricities go unnoticed and perhaps unappreciated by any but me.  Another person queried why I filled the place with things like this and my only thought was "Because it is me."  Like it or not, it is me.

  

Wildly Weird!

  Late this afternoon, I went to review the work Son had done by removing the fence line that once held boysenberries.  For some odd reason, the entire row of vines had shriveled and died leaving quite the unsightly mess this entire summer. I had good intentions of clearing the mess myself but other things managed to get in the way.  He was kind enough to tackle the chore for me.  While out under the grapefruit trees, my pant leg became hopelessly ensnared in a thorny vine.  Even though the boysenberry vines refused to grow, a smilax vine appeared to be quite healthy!  Reaching down to unsnag the fabric, my hand brushed against something that was definitely NOT a vine!  Oops!  That called for closer inspection of the vine.

  At first, I could not find what soft, squirmy thing did not appreciate being smashed.  All I could see was a smilax vine and a dead leaf.  Uh, oh!  That dead leaf wiggled!  Time to put on the eyeglasses.  Oh, my!  I came face to face with the weirdest looking critter that I have ever seen (and I have seen plenty here on the bayou!).  This thing was so ugly it was beautiful...or maybe it was just ugly...in a pretty sort of way.  I had no idea what it was other than a caterpillar of some sort.  Of course, finding an unknown critter meant the camera had to come into play.  After a few photographs to help me identify the critter, I left it to its own resources and headed inside to research my find!

  It did not take long before I found that my critter did, indeed, have a name.  It was the caterpillar of one Curve-lined Owlet Moth.  While the caterpillar looks like some alien from Outer Space, the moth is rather nondescript.  It is brown with a curved line going across the lower part of the wing.  The caterpillar appeared almost evil but not once did it try to bite/sting...it sat acting like a dead leaf.  All of those strange horns and hooks must be for show and not protection.  Perhaps, that is its best defense...be scary looking and be still.  Who knows?  It seemed to work well enough as I let the little guy go on munching the smilax.

Stranger Things...

  There are times that the Bayou presents me with things.  These items come from parts unknown and are washed in on high tides.  Let a tropical storm or hurricane whip in here and the trove is quite unbelievable.  One never knows what will be found in the yard.  These "treasures" are often mostly trash that needs to be discarded but occasionally a true "treasure" is found.  After hurricanes, I have found furniture, household items and tools strewn about the property.  A lot of it is beyond repair but there are pieces that can be restored to be useful. Trust me when I say, I am not so high and mighty that I will not use the stuff.  I have.  We were always taught that it is purely wasteful to not at least try to repair and reuse items.  

  The past week has brought some odd weather to the Bayou.  A tropical storm hurried through only to meet up with a cold front coming down.  Mother Nature's whims sent things into a bit of a turmoil.  Not much was hurt in the wake of this but a few things were tossed around.  No biggy.  Then, we were bombarded by the system that sits on top of us now.  This one is "no biggy" either but it gave a bit of wind and copious amounts of rain...and is still giving us rain.  Last night, one squall gave up a "treasure".

  Early this morning, I carried the old dog out to do his business.  While I was headed to his favorite spot, I noticed something strange.  A beach ball had obviously flown in on the wind.  While this is not overly unusual, the spot where it landed and became lodged was.  Son built a "brig" or jail (of sorts) for the clue hunt.  Since the hunt takes place on an uninhabited (almost) spot, the pirates that were shipwrecked supposedly had to use what material was on hand.  The brig is created out of reed fencing and canes from our huge canebrake.  Somehow, that beach ball was tossed inside of the brig!  Now, the only thing that remains locked in our jail is a faded beach ball that came in on a storm.  

  Strange tides bring strange things.  The treasure trove of oddities continues to grow with each storm that surges across the Bay.  For now, the ball will remain in the brig.  There is one team left to compete in the annual hunt so we shall see their reaction to something so out of place it is hilarious.  Will they think this is some odd clue?  Or will they realize that Mother Nature played yet another trick on us all?