"On Track"

  For the past few nights (and days), it has been extremely cold.  At least, it has been cold for this far south.  We are not accustomed to the temperature staying below the freezing mark both night and day.  It has also been quite windy which adds to that chill.  Needless to say, folks down here were bundled up to their ears!  It makes me glad that I worked so hard for the past few weeks gathering the firewood.  With both of the menfolk "out of commission", I had to do chores for all of us.  It was not an easy job for an old lady but I am proud to say "I did it!"

  

  That cold wind also blew the tide far from the shore.  In fact, there was no water anywhere near the pier!  All you could see was mud!  Yep, I headed to the pier despite of the cold...despite of the icy wind...despite of the frozen pier boards.  It was a bit treacherous as I kept slipping and sliding!  Still, I made it and was captivated by the mudflats that were left behind as the water receded.  The water hides a lot of stuff!  Since the last time the tide was this far out, so many logs have floated in and are now mired in the mushy mud.  Those were not the only things interesting, though!  Tracks...so many tracks were to be seen!  It always amazes me how critters can walk on that mud and not become mired themselves.  

 

  A set of tracks that caught my eye was a double row of small ruts.  Occasionally, divots could be seen on either side of the ruts.  Ahh, turtle tracks.  We must have a lot more turtles in the bayou than I realized. Either that or we have a very active turtle!  Tracks were winding everywhere thought the mudflats. 

  I am assuming that these tracks were made by the Cooter Turtles that mostly hide in the marshes or bask on those logs.  The tracks seemed too small for the snapping turtles plus did not have the claw marks which are telltale signs of the snappers. Both types of turtles usually only make their way ashore to lay their eggs then are back down to keep out of sight.  Had I been on the pier a bit earlier, perhaps I would have seen a dozen or so as they slid their way across the mudflats.  I imagine they were confused about the frigid weather and did not burrow down in the mud soon enough to keep warm.  Poor, old southern turtles!  They were caught off-guard just like all of the rest of us!

Cold and Gray

   I was out at daybreak trying to cover and secure things for the hard freeze tonight.  I knew I had to get it in gear and get it done before the rains set in for the day.  After covering the garden the best I could, filling the woodbins with a hefty supply of logs and cutting enough kindling to keep those fires going, I felt that my tasks were about complete.  I headed inside to bake.  To me, there is nothing more satisfying than baking on a cold, rainy/sleeting day.  The rain did turn to sleet for a good bit of the time but the oven going was a happy thought.  Cream cheese croissants and broccoli/mozzarella rolls were being turned out like clockwork!  Amazing aromas were wafting from the kitchen!

  Along about midafternoon, I noticed something strange.  The "quiet noise" of the sleet stopped and the windows started brightening.  Aha!  Perhaps the nastiness was just going to turn to cold now!  Wandering into the living room, I noticed the crystals hanging in the window.  There were no "rainbows" shooting around the room.  In fact, there was gray.  Things looked gray just like outside.  It looked cold.  Well, time to close the curtains, turn on the lamps and make things at least look cozy!  Stay warm, folks.  Mother Nature wants to see you wear your heavy coats!

Learning From The Critters

  It is no lie that I spend a lot of time watching the critters of the Bayou.  I learn from them.  Critters are smart.  Their whole lives totally depend upon their survival skills and they have honed those to perfection.  People, on the other hand, have become lackadaisical and soft.  There are many who could not survive a week without some assistance.  By studying the critters, I have discovered so many useful ways and have been applying them, in a lot of instances.  These are all things that have made life easier for me.

  This afternoon, the sun came out for about an hour so I took full advantage of it and stacked yet more firewood.  With the two wood-burning stoves going full tilt, the pile dwindles quickly.  Stockpiling during nice weather sure helps.  It was then that I noticed someone else stockpiling.  A beautiful Red-bellied Woodpecker was helping itself to the birdseed that I had strewn on the ground.  The bird had eaten its fill and was stashing a good number of seeds in the bark of the nearby oak tree before moving on to the hickory tree.  Red-bellied Woodpeckers are known to store up to four times as many seeds and acorns as they need to survive.  In fact, they can (and do) stash thousands of food items in nooks and crannies and have an uncanny sense of finding them again when needed.  The bird was stockpiling food for hard times.  

  People need to be more like the critters and not expect handouts.  My pantry shelves are lined with hundreds of jars of home-canned food items and the garden is producing a fine winter crop.  This is all fine and dandy as it keeps me from having to go to the store for items.  My pet peeve is to hear visitors to the Little Bayou House exclaim "We know where we are coming if things hit rock bottom!"  Nope.  Everyone has the same opportunity to fill their own pantry even if it is with "store-bought" goods.  We are not playing the "Little Red Hen" game here.  Folks, just use a bit of commonsense.  You do not have to go to extreme but having a few things on hand never hurt anyone. Or, perhaps, commonsense has gone the wayside.  

Snug Little Home

  Today saw us preparing for the upcoming "winter".  So far, the worst we have had was a "near freeze" and a couple of "maybe freezes".  Supposedly, that is all to end with a "severe freeze".  My garden is not going to be happy.  The day started with rain so it was rather miserable work to split and stack the firewood that would see us through this next week.  The work had to be done, however, so Son and I set to it.  We managed to get enough for at least a week's burning in both wood-burning stoves so we turned our attention elsewhere.  Plants and pipes are covered but the in ground garden will have to wait.  Most likely, the 30 or so cabbages will have to be harvested and the rest will just have to suffer.  I am in hopes that the system will not swing down this far but it is a "wait and see" game, at this point.

  While doing chores, Son called my attention to yet another tiny tree frog.  This time, the little squirt decided to make its home in a hole in a brick.  Luckily for the frog, the brick is in the chimney which will provide some warmth for the critter.  Once the old stove is cranking out the heat, the bricks will warm and the froggy will be quite snug.  The metal stovepipe extends up inside the brick chimney so the smoke will not harm the froggy.

  It is probably sad by others' standards but I fret over my wild critter friends during times like this.  Extra food will be put out for any that need a bite to eat, the greenhouse will still have the eave vents left open so birds can seek shelter and the brush piles will not be cleared so other critters can be protected from the ice.  Most will snuggle down in their nests or dens but the steady rains will still cause a lot of problems.  Folks, be kind to the critters in inclement weather.  They deserve some sort of protection just as we do.

Only Ms. Nellie

   Today was drizzly, cold and gray which is typical for February.  Although it may not be cold by the standard of others, since my health has decided to be iffy, I feel the cold.  This is the first year that I can honestly say "I am chilled to the bone".  Even so, I braved the chill to make a late afternoon jaunt around the hillside.  My goal was to gather a few bits and pieces of felled branches to stoke the old cast iron stove when I was back inside.  That old burner has been chugging nonstop for over a month now.  As I was gathering the twigs, my path took me down to where I can usually find a few of my critter friends.  Nope.  No one was there.  So, I headed around back of the greenhouse.  Nope.  No one was home.  Ok, so I dropped my bundle of scrappy firewood on the front step and meandered down to the pier.  Aha!  The one and only critter to brave the elements along with me was sitting on a pier post!

  A ring-billed gull was resting a bit before searching the waters for her supper.  She eyed me curiously.  Ms. Nellie, as I dubbed her, was a newcomer to the Bayou.  Hopefully, she will decide she likes it here and make it her home.  She seemed placid enough around me making me think that we might become fast friends.  Perhaps I shall attempt to bring the net on my next pier visit.  Hopefully, my strength will be enough that I can still throw the thing.  Ms. Nellie shall feast upon little mullet if all goes well.

  It was good to see at least one other living creature out on this raw day but Ms. Nellie will have to go it alone.  I needed to get back to the Little Bayou House and that wood-burning stove.  It was too chilly for me on that pier!  Stay warm, Ms. Nellie!

Frosty Greens!

   Frost on plants is a funny thing.  If the plants are cold hardy at all, most will survive a frost even a heavy one.  Those short-lived cold snaps actually do garden plants good, in my view.  After being stunted by the weather, the plants will kick it in gear and have a growth spurt.  It is all about survival.  Let something threaten plants and they have that innate need to hurry things up a bit.  Plants sole goal in life is to reproduce so when that is in danger, they strive harder to flourish and make strong, health seeds.  Frost on the leaves is not a bad thing, in most cases.

  Lately, the greens in the garden have been frost-laden each morning.  This is due to the heavy fog overnight and the drop in temperatures.  By morning, the cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower and mustard greens are wearing a thick coat of frost.  Then the sun rises, warms a bit and the frost starts to melt.  Each little droplet runs down the leaves to puddle until it is heavy enough to fall to the ground.  There, the dirt greedily soaks it up and the plants are watered.  It is all in nature's plan.  The way most leaves are shaped and the way they are set on the plants causes water to run down to where it is most needed.  Mother Nature is not stupid!  Make the most of what is there.

  Son and I enjoyed the first head of cabbage from the garden this week and been having mustard greens every other day.  The broccoli and cauliflower will soon be ready, as well.  Winter gardens are actually far easier to tend as weeds and plant-munching insects are not as likely to invade the garden plot.  Neither seem to appreciate the frost.  Happy gardening, folks.  Go plant some greens!

Greedy Critters

   While I love to watch most critters around the Bayou, squirrels have got to be the nuttiest.   (Yes, that was intended.)  These fluffy tailed rodents are ridiculous.  The female goes about all summer in a tizzy as she builds a nest, has the young, repairs the nest, has another bunch of young, repairs the nest again and stores enough nuts to feed an army.  The male chases the female.  Basically, that is all he does.  She does the work, he does nothing.  

  During the winter months, squirrels' appetites become quite intense.  They eat anything...hickory nuts, acorns, sunflower seeds, flower bulbs and stale Christmas cookies.  (I actually found a gray squirrel eyeing the shell wind chimes the other day!)  It is those hickory nuts that cause me to ponder.  Have you ever tried to shell a hickory nut?  It is nigh on impossible to get a morsel larger than a grain of rice out of the nut and that is after smacking it with a hammer.  Yet, a squirrel can gnaw a tiny hole in the end of the nut and empty the contents completely.  Of course, gnawing that tiny hole leaves about ten pounds of hickory nut shreds under the tree.  (I have yet to figure out how one squirrel with one nut can create such a mess.)

  Years ago, Pop told me that it is not the gray squirrels that gnaw the hickory nuts in that fashion but rather the flying squirrels.  That makes the enigma even more confusing as flying squirrels are extremely tiny.  You would think that such a difficult chore would be left to the larger critters.  Who knows?? I am not out much at night when the flying squirrels take their outings.  

  The squirrels of all types are running low on "supplies" already this winter.  The tropical systems that came through knocked down the nuts before they were filled so food is scarce.  Lately more are gnawing on twigs and are begging for handouts.  They raid the birdfeeders as soon as the seed is available.  This causes problems for the songbirds so now I have started including table scraps to the bounty.  Apple cores, squash seeds and any other tidbits are put out for the critters in hopes that they will share.  Not likely as those squirrels are a greedy sort but I have to do something to protect those wind chimes and flower bulbs!

Stay Warm

 Several weeks ago, I pondered the fact of how inclement weather causes problems for critters especially birds.  Small song birds can hunker down in protected places but it is often hard for huge, lanky herons to find shelter.  They have to deal with it the best they can.  With the wintry mix wafting in over the Bayou tonight and tomorrow, things can get messy for critters.  Most will seek shelter of some sort.  Against the advice of Son, I added a wee bit of Spanish moss to the hanging fern in hopes that it would insulate the sweet wren that spends the night in her old nest.  Perhaps all of her children will pay a visit back home and snuggle in with dear, old mom but just in case she is alone, I tried to help.  The covered arbor will at least keep her dry.

  Those herons and egrets will have to go it alone, however.  There is not much I can do to make their lives any easier.  Today was cold.  This morning, the wind was blustery, temperatures just above freezing and a slight mist was falling.  It was just after daybreak when firewood gathering began.  While I was hauling a load up the hillside, I noticed a lone Great Blue Heron standing belly-deep in the icy waters of the Bay.  The bird was hunched over as if it was really feeling this weather in a bad way.   It was trying to catch breakfast but obviously no fish were within range.  Poor fellow.  I felt as if I needed to help but there is not much I could do.  The pier was damaged yet again in the storm last week and, personally, I am in no shape to be throwing the net.  My heart ached for the heron...all the herons...all the birds...all the critters.  Stay warm, Critter Friends, stay warm.

  

Going For Bigger And Better!

   I am not sure just why but I find spiderwebs and fog a perfect combination.  The droplet-laden webs remind me of the perfect compilation of Mother Nature's art.  Since we are in that weather pattern known as Somewhat Winter in the Deep South, fog occurs often.  If I notice that it is a foggy morn, a hike must begin immediately after the first mug of coffee.  It is mandatory!  Regardless of what has been planned, a quick jaunt around the place searching for webs is a must.

  Mostly, I search for the large webs that span between tree limbs,  These carry the droplets in a draping pattern much like a beaded necklace.  Occasionally, however, I will drop to my knees to photograph the ground spiders that make funnel webs in the grass.  The spiders are quick and often dart into their funnels before a picture is taken.  I often wonder how often their webs are destroyed by clumsy oafs such as myself.  Sometimes, the hillside is pure white with the dew-laden or fog-laden webs.  

  Then there are the webs that are beyond understanding.  These are the ones that have no rhyme or reason as to where they are placed.  I understand that the webs are the spider's sole means of catching prey but you just have to wonder why?  Why? Why is the web here?  This cannot be the most efficient method of bug-catching.

  Down the hillside a small oak tree had popped up since the last time I mowed the grass.  It stood about a foot high in a wide open space.  A spider had decided that this "treetop" was the ideal spot for a web.  The spider covered the entire top of the sapling with webbing.  The spider was a tiny one so perhaps this was a first attempt at its own web design.  Then, again, maybe the little one knew what it was doing and covered the top in hopes of snaring anything that climbed the sapling.  Whatever, the spider had its beginning.   I have to admit that the web caught my eye and captured my attention so much that I returned to it several times.  The unusualness of the location drew me like a magnet so maybe that spider was pretty smart.  If bugs are as curious as I am, then the spider will soon move on to bigger and better things!

There is no water!

  My goodness!   When one thinks of a bayou, usually a bit of water winding through marsh comes to mind.  When one thinks of a bay, usually a large inlet of water comes to mind.  Not today.  Today, there was no water.  Nope.  The Bayou and the Back Bay were almost devoid of the wet stuff.  The water was gone...nowhere to be seen...vamoosed.  Overnight, the water had disappeared almost into thin air.  Where has all of the water gone?

  While there is definitely a lack of water here, it is no mystery.  Overnight, a cold front made its way southward until the north wind visited the Bayou.  It blew and blew.  Limbs crashed to the ground, outdoor furniture toppled and the water disappeared.  The north wind blew the water far out into the Gulf of Mexico and left mudflats nigh on as far as you could see.  Mud!  Lovely, mushy, quicksand-like mud now was laid bare by the winds.

The red arrow shows how far out the water was from the end of the pier this morning.  Mud flats!

  It always amazes me when this happens.  It is interesting to see what hides beneath the murky waters of the Bayou and Back Bay.  Exposed were all of the logs, derelict crab traps that (irresponsible) people leave behind and garbage that (stupid) people dump into the water.  Also to be seen was the myriad of critter tracks left behind by those in search of an easy meal.  Raccoons, fox, otters, herons, egrets and any other hungry critter could dine upon small fish and crustaceans trapped in the small puddles.  

  By late afternoon, the winds died down and the water returned to normal.  The temperatures started plummeting as soon as the sun set behind the pines and we will be witnesses to a tad bit of winter...albeit a short lived bit of winter.   With the cold tonight, the critters will surely appreciate the feast they found on the mudflats.  With their bellies full, they can hunker down in some snug spot and wait for the chill to pass.  I plan on doing the same. 

Persimmon Snacks!

  Along about this time of year, I start to keep watch on the wild persimmon trees that dot the woods around the Bayou.  Late October and early November sees the fruit starting to ripen and, if I am not quick, I will get nary a nibble even though there are dozens of trees.  The quarter-sized fruit goes fast when the possums and coons get a sniff of them ripening.  Each time the old dog and I take a hike, a good handful of the persimmons is a must-have snack. 

  This afternoon's snack provided a dozen or so seeds from the persimmons.  These were brought inside, rinsed and dried.  The seeds had a purpose!  The winter weather forecast was about to be revealed!  The seeds (when split) reveal the type of weather for the next few months...supposedly.  Each year, I carefully split seven or eight of the seeds just out of curiosity.  This is easier said than done, however.  To my imagination, splitting a persimmon seed is akin to splitting a penny.  It is hard to do!  If you are not careful, that splitting can become slicing of the finger!  So...I made things easier.  First, as I mentioned, wash and dry the seeds.  Persimmon seeds directly out of a persimmon are slimy!  Even after their bath, the things are still slippery and hard to hold.  It is a good idea to have a dish towel handy.  Now for my brilliant idea!  Use a pair of sturdy kitchen sheers to trim the edges of the seed.  This helps tremendously!  Trimming the edge gives you a flatter spot to start the knife.  After trimming, pinch the seed between the thumb and forefinger and SLOWLY, CAREFULLY begin slicing.  WATCH THOSE FINGERS!!  Trust me...It is easy to slip here!  Once you get one seed split, it is time to give up on the rest!  Nah, keep going.  You are doing great!  I did nine seeds from four persimmons.  The results show the weather forecast.  Snow?  Sleet?  Cold? Warm?  Inside the seed, you find a quite clear image of cutlery.  Spoons (snow shovels)=snow/rain.  Forks (Pitchfork)=warm.  Knife (spear)=stabbing cold.  Well....

  This year, I found all spoons.  That usually means rain, here in the Deep South, if the folklore rings true.  BUT....looking back since I have been recording this "evidence", we sure have had a LOT of spoons!  Admittedly, there have been a few knives but rarely a fork (even though, one may argue that our winters are warm compared to other folks').  Perhaps, looking at the inside of the seed, just gives us the idea whether the seed is viable.  The "spoon" may simply be the part that will eventually sprout.  This makes more sense as we sure have a lot of baby persimmon trees each year.  Those possums and coons seem to plant lots of seeds.  At least trying to get the seeds gives me a good reason to be munching the fruit!

Clam Up About the Cold Weather!

  Ok, so this "ice age" has been lingering on just about long enough now.  It is time for it to move back to the Arctic where it belongs.  The Deep South has better things to do than slip and slide on thin sheets of ice and bundle up against these bone-chilling temperatures!  Four hundred years of this is overdoing it a bit.  Ok, ok....so it has only been four days but we Southerners are ill-equipped for any temperatures below 30 degrees.  Anything lower and we go into a state of shock.  I mean, come on now, our flipflops and t-shirts are gathering mold from lack of use here.  To tell the truth, most of us do not own an actual coat so a hoodie has to suffice.  Our shoe racks contain no boots other than an occasional pair of "shrimp" boots which are basically white rubber rain boots.  They are designed to keep the feet dry and cool but not protect against cold.  A lot of us do not even have central heating systems as they are not needed during most winters.  Right about now, I almost wish we did as it is a tad cold going out at daybreak to fetch another armload of firewood.  

 The good folks of the Deep South are not the only ones feeling the cold this year.  From our vantage point of the pier, Mark and I noticed that a good many clams were exposed by the low tides.  While this is not an unusual occurrence with the extreme low tides each winter, the position of the clams was troubling.  Most of the shells were opened.  During most low tides when there are mudflats for long stretches, the clams stay tightly closed to protect themselves.  Being exposed to predators is bad enough but throw in that frigid air and things get a mite iffy for the clams. Clams cannot really take to deeper, warmer water like fish and crustaceans.  They sit steadfast in the mud and hope for the best.  Tightly closed, the clams can survive a good 24 or more hours of being out of the water.  They seal themselves into their own little "tide pool" inside the shell and wait for the tide to roll in again.  But...no water and temperatures in the 20s for four days is enough to kill the clams in spite of their best efforts.

  While the death of the clams is saddening, their demise has been a blessing to other critters.  Opening a clam is a tough task for any critter other than the otters but with the cold weather killing the clams and making them spontaneously open, birds and smaller critters are feasting! This is helping them make it through this dire situation. I guess there is a reason for everything.

So No Snow...

  Our big winter event of the year was supposed to be a "dusting" of snow here on the Bayou.  For those who do not know, this would be a big event, indeed!  It rarely ever snows this far south and when it does, folks stop what they are doing to play.  Even the stodgiest of adults will marvel at the tiny white flakes falling from the sky.  Snow is just something we do not see.  That said...the snow was a no go.  Nope, nary a flake floated down from the sky.  No fluffy white snowman makings could be found adorning the yard.  Not a single snowflake managed to sneak its way to the Deep South.  

Ice coating the back steps going off the deck.  Think I will refrain from using these steps for a while!

  We did, however, have ice.  Just about dark, it started sleeting and, of course, there were the numerous rumors that this was snow.  Nope...just ice.  The type ice that makes your back steps treacherous.  The type ice that makes roads just slick enough to cause problems because folks do not use commonsense.  The type ice that one can do without.  This sleeting continued for several hours before finally ceasing after midnight.  This morning, with temperatures pushing the mid-teens, I ventured out alone.  I did not want the old dog to slip and slide down the ice-covered steps.  Needing an armload of firewood, I found that task a bit more than I bargained for as the wind had uncovered the woodpile and the sleet froze all of the wood together!  Oops!  Problem solved as the second woodpile was nice and dry.  

Icicle covered cedar tree caused by the hours of sleet last night.

  As I rounded the house to make my way back inside, I noticed my poor cedar tree looked like something from a winter wonderland.  Icicles dangled from every branch!  The little tree was bent over from its extra weight causing the icicles to dangle like a heavy, bejeweled fringe.  How lovely!  But how cold for the tree!  

  So our big winter event saw no snow....but lots of ice!....and icicles!....I headed back inside to stoke the fire and get another mug of hot coffee.  Whew!

Poor Little Thing....

  The harsh winter weather that we have been feeling here on the Bayou is bad enough for people.  We whine and complain about how cold it is and how the wind chills us to the bone all the while, sitting in our warm, snug houses.  While it is bad for us, think about the critters.  We receive constant reminders to "bring pets indoors" but what about the wild critters?  They have to fend for themselves during these harsh times.  Our pets have become lackadaisical in their survival skills since we have provided everything from food to a soft, warm bed for them.  Most would not survive on their own nowadays.  They have become "soft" and would not have a clue as to finding food, sensible shelter and protection from predators.  In our kindness, we truly have not done the pets any favors.  When, (God forbid!) one should become lost or separated from the family, it likely will succumb to the elements due to the very protection we have always given it. Not that this is bad.  Don't get me wrong...I am all for making life the best for our furry friends but I was just trying to drive home a point.  These harsh times are strenuous on the wild critters out there.  If a critter is fragile or weak, it will most likely die cold and hungry.  Sad to say but true.  It all goes back to that "survival of the fittest".

  Our winters here are fickle.  We can have frigid, pipe-bursting, ice-coating storms that cause us to shiver and shake then, three days later, we are barefoot and sweating.  This erratic weather pattern confuses, not only folks like me, but most critters, as well.  They do not know whether to hunker down in a warm den or start nesting.  I was out gathering firewood today when I spied something that saddened me a bit.  The spurt of warm weather after the last Arctic blast brought out a number of critters that would have been well-advised to stay dormant a bit longer.  Spring is not here.  A tiny butterfly wing fluttered in the north wind.  The poor little thing obviously had thought spring was here and crawled out of its cocoon.  This was the wrong move as its life was cut short but the current blast of cold.  The small, yellow butterfly had met its demise due to the plunging temperatures last night.  Bitter cold weather took its toll on the fragile being.  Hopefully, our next bout of warmer weather will not encourage other critters to take the same plunge as this butterfly.  Hunker down, little critters!  We have more winter yet to come.

 

 

Trunk Wraps and Smudgepots

  While we await round two of the frigid weather to strike the Bayou, I did the usual preparations.  One of the chores was to rewrap the citrus trees.  While there is not much that I can do about the entire trees due to sheer size (some are a more than 20 feet tall), I can only hope wrapping the trunks will save the the tree above the grafting point.  A blanket and a wind/ice shield wrapped and tied in place will have to suffice.  There is hardly anything else that can be done.  

  Back on the farm, I can remember getting up for "my shift" as fire-stoker.  This meant, not only making sure the fireplaces in the old farmhouse were burning, but also, the smudgepots in the midst of the citrus trees were chugging along properly.  Being a small-time farm family, we did not have the expensive gas or oil burners that folks with huge orchards used.  Our smudgepots were simply 50 gallon drums that were piled full of logs and kept burning all night.  Once the hot coals filled most of the drum, things were easy.  It was those first hours that needed tending the most.  Getting out of that warm bed and going outside in the middle of the night in icy temperatures was not something that I relished but it was necessary.  Pop tended the fires most of the night but if the weather continued for a week or more, he needed rest.  The kids took over and tended the fires, made sure the faucets were still dripping and lights were still burning in the pump shed.  It was also necessary to keep check on all of the farm animals so they were as snug as possible.  Life on a truck farm was not easy.  I would not have traded it for the world, though, as I learned so much.

  This afternoon as I went out to do one last check on things, I noticed that the grapefruit trees did not fare so well during last week's big chill.  There was no earthly way to protect these trees so I left them be and hoped for the best.  With north winds blowing a gale today, leaves were tumbling to the ground. There was already a thick carpet of leaves beneath the trees.  This is not good as I was in hopes that the leaves would provide coverage for the trunks.  The poor trees are in for another cold week!  Perhaps, I need to get a couple of smudgepots going!

 

How Soon Forgotten

  There was an "unheard of " weather phenomenon here in Biloxi this past week.  THERE WAS ICE ON BILOXI BACK BAY!!!  Yeah, right. Unheard of...some folks must never get out of their warm, cozy beds before the sun is well up above the horizon.  Ice on the Bay...pffft!  Like that has never happened before in history.  The local news folks had a heyday with this earth-shaking news.  Granted, it does not happen every year because, well face it, we are in the Deep South where things are a tad warmer but ice does occur and ice on the Bay does happen regularly.  People are just too wimpy to get out in the cold to see it.  The phenomenon that was making the news was captured by a weather camera and not a real live person and the quantity of ice amounted to little more than some crunchy particles near the marsh edge.  Still, ice on the Bay is fun, in a weird sort of way and even though the temperatures are not too bad, there was ice again this morning (but no one was excited this time!).

  Now, back in 1936, things were a bit more exciting.  Pop and my Uncle Jim, both, told stories of the time that the Bay froze.  Not just a little frosting along the edge but it froze almost all the way across.  THAT was unusual and cause for an uproar.  The fact that the weather was cold enough that year for so much ice to form was rare and, of course, these two guys had to have a story to go along with it.  When they got out of bed at daybreak to find so much ice, these two fellows got the bright idea to shove the old canoe out on the ice sheeting.  Being adventurous young men, they thought it would be great fun to skid across that ice. Sure enough, their shaky plan worked and the canoe slid along with ease.  A good  poke with a pole sent them scooting across the ice.  They were having a grand time when they spied the first fish.  It seems that the cold, icy water had stunned the fish enough that many were floating on or near the surface.  The two young men started breaking the ice and grabbing the fish with their bare hands.  The canoe filled quickly so they headed back to the house.  Once there, they hauled their catch to the house and proudly presented it to their mom (my grandmother).   She reprimanded them for bringing home "dead fish" and told them that the fish were not fit to eat.  "Go make a fire and get the big kettle hot.  Cook those fish for the hogs!"  So, the boys did just that but once they put the frozen fish in that warm water, they came back to life!  Amidst the peals of laughter, the two young men called to their mom.  "Come see our dead fish now!"  She was amazed and told them to quickly get the fish out of the kettle and clean them.  "We will smoke the fish!"  So, the fish were smoked and provided a good many meals for the farm family!

  This tale was told at all family functions and the tale grew with each telling but, it just goes to show, that the Back Bay of Biloxi really did freeze one year and that year was 1936!  It seems to me that with all of the archives associated with news papers, someone should have done a bit of research before proclaiming "2018 is the FIRST year for ice to form on the Back Bay!"  Obviously, someone is not doing his/her job very well.  It took a grand total of 14 seconds to find the exact year that the event took place and to verify Pop's story. (The Internet is an amazing tool.)

A Good Day to Cozy Up to the Woodstove!

  Its cold tonight.  Maybe not by other folks' standards but this is one of the chilliest nights that we have had on the Bayou in years.  I am feeling it in my bones.  We are snug in the Little Bayou House with the woodstoves chugging out the heat but when out and about the hillside, it is rattling cold.  Perhaps I am just getting old because I never remember being chilled as I am now.  I, also, never remember being as tired as I am now.   Since having temperatures in the teens is a rare occasion in the Deep South, we have to prepare for the cold just about like we do for a hurricane.  The tractors need tending, the garden covered, heat lamps put in the greenhouse, the water pump insulated, faucets wrapped and covered and "let drip" and firewood cut...lots of firewood.  More or less, until yesterday, these have been my jobs this winter.  Mark is off at work and Son had torn something in his knee.  With the two of them "out of commission", so to speak, the bulk of the chores fell to me.  Cutting, hauling and stacking firewood just about did me in.  Yep, I am getting old.  I am feeling a bit achy-breaky.  Top it off with that bone-chilling wind and I am just about ready to toss in the towel and crawl under the covers for the duration of this frigid weather!

  

  This morning while out with the old dog, I did brave the elements and made the trek to the pier.  The water calls to me...but when I got to the end of the pier...the water was gone!  All gone!  The same north wind that brought our icy air took our water!  Wintertime is notorious for low tides but this was a tad ridiculous!  Just about as far as I could see...mud.  Nothing but mud.  Instead of the twenty or so feet of mudflats, we had a span of several hundred feet of no water.  Boats were sitting high and dry in this blustery wind!  So, no fishing for me...even if I had wanted to cast a line.  Instead, I headed back to the Little Bayou House, made another mug of coffee and propped the feet up next to the old cast iron woodstove.  The old dog, Mr. PJ seemed to agree that this is exactly where we both should be on these cold morns.  Smart dog.

You Do What You Have To Do

  Early morn found me on the pier as usual.  Here lately, I have had to tread carefully when walking the planks as the heavy frost makes things quite perilous.  Slipping into the icy water would not be a happy thing so I tend to slip off the shoes and go in just the socks.  Although the feet get cold, at least the socks keep me from slipping.  Once the bench is reached, the shoes are donned once again and all is well until the return trip.  This morning, the old dog, Mr. PJ, did not make the trek with me.  I figured his paws would get a mite cold so I left him inside next to the wood stove.  While on the pier, I watched as a small rail hunted for her breakfast.  She waded in the ice-cold water in search of tiny shrimp or minnows.  Watching her made me realize that I had it pretty good.  I had my coffee and breakfast inside the Little Bayou House where it was nice and cozy.  The poor little rail (like all other wild animals) have to brave the elements.  Cold, drizzly days must be miserable for them but they carry on and do what it takes to survive.

  As I sat there pondering the little rail and her search for food, I marveled at the fact that she did not seem cold.  Here I was shivering and she waded about as if nothing was different than a few days ago when it was warm.  What keeps that little one's feet and legs from freezing?  Well, it seems that it has something to do with the placement of the veins and arteries in their extremities.  These lie next to each other so the veins carrying the chilled blood back to the body picks up heat from the arteries that are carrying warm blood from the heart.  It sort of evens things a bit.  Waterfowl also have the ability to constrict the veins in their legs and feet so that the blood flow is restricted.  This reduces the heat loss a good bit.  Weird but true.  My feet being dry were probably a lot colder than the rail's as she stood in the water.

  Cold feet?  Yep, off came the shoes and I ever so carefully made my way back up the frosty boards.  Then...shoes back on...mad dash to the house...feet propped up next to the old stove to warm.  Another cup of coffee and I had to head back outside to cut a load of firewood.  I guess I am a lot like that little bird...you do what you have to do.

Things are different....

  After our so-called winter storm that did not materialize much more than a bit of sleet, I was out early this morning to check things.  Other than a few patches of ice here and there, the yard did not look much different.  No snow blanketed the place making it look like a Winter Wonderland.  Instead, all I had was cold, soggy leaves that were knocked from the treetops.  My hike was going well until I reached the pier.  Nope!  Not going there!  I found our where Winter Storm Benji dumped his ice crystals.  The pier was glistening with the crystals and I knew that all that beauty was just an accident waiting to happen.  It was cold enough outside to make me call a halt to the hike and scurry back inside by the old wood-burning stove.

  Back in the day on the farm, we had our fair share of cold, wintry days.  It was not bad for us in the old farmhouse as there were two huge fireplaces that warmed us.  There was no heat in any of the bedrooms so on nights when the temperature plunged to the teens or even the single digits, we would warm our backsides by the fireplace then run quickly to jump in the bed!  Quilts and blankets were piled several deep and you learned to appreciate sharing a bed with a sibling!  We never knew anything different so were fine.  I guess that is why even today, I cannot tolerate a hot room during the winter.  My little cast iron stoves provide enough heat for me but others find the Little Bayou House a bit cold.

  Sometimes the animals on the farm did not fare so well.  I can remember Pop being upset several times that some of the sows gave birth during hard freezes.  He fretted over the well being of the piglets but other than putting down an extra layer of hay, there was not much we could do to help.  The barn was a huge thing with an open front so heating was out of the question.  Mama pigs are not known to be that snuggly with their offspring so it was entirely up to the little ones to seek the warmth of the sow.  Usually, they were fine other than the fact that some had a bit of frostbite on their wee tails causing them to drop off.   The chicken houses were a bit more draft-free and several times Pop would hang lights to help heat the birds.  This did not work out so well as the chickens pecked at the bulbs until they broke.  On one particularly cold night,  several of the hens' feet froze to the roost.  We would find the hens frantically flapping their wings as they tried to hop off but could not.  A bucket of warm water fixed the problem and a few days later, the hens were as good as new.  Pop would probably say that I mollycoddle the animals here on the Bayou and I guess I do.  Mr. PJ, the dog, is curled up on his soft bed next to the stove while Ms. Nycto, the cat, is snuggled next to me on the sofa.  Stay warm, folks!

 

 

Sleet, Snow and Oranges!

  Yesterday, I had a plan.  That plan included staying inside out of the drippy, icy weather and baking to my heart's content.  It did not work out that way at all.  I baked nary a treat the entire day.  With the temperatures predicted to make a steep plunge, I figured that a few things were a bit more urgent than another platter of pecan tassies.  More lights were needed in the greenhouse so that was of utmost importance.  The greenhouse not only serves as a nice place to keep the potted plants, it provides a small indoor garden space.  Bell peppers, eggplants, tomatoes and herbs do well in pots and give us a few fresh "summer" veggies throughout the winter months.  After that was tended, more firewood was hauled into the small entryway, the small skiff was bailed clear of rain water and every citrus fruit on the trees was picked.  That, my friends, was the hard job.  With the wind chill already in the 20s and sleet falling from the sky, I was cold....very cold.  Mark helped with the fruit, then headed to the grocery store to get a few needed items.  Son is recuperating from a knee injury he got when cutting firewood so I insisted he not get out and risk slipping on the ice.

A few of the oranges from the Navel Orange Tree in the back yard.  This one tree had over 200 oranges!

  That citrus fruit included lemons, satsumas and navel oranges.  I did not even attempt to pick the five kumquat trees.  The tiny, marble-sized fruit will just have to brave the elements!  While the satsuma and grapefruit trees did not do well this year, the navel oranges sort of made up the slack.  Mark and I picked over 200 of the huge oranges off of one tree!  I kept telling him that there were a ton of oranges out there!  

  Now comes the fun.  With only three of us living here, what am I to do with 200 plus oranges?  I surely cannot eat that many before they go bad.  I guess marmalade-making will be a chore for the next couple of weeks.  Ha!  Maybe I have just solved my Christmas shopping dilemma!  A jar of marmalade is a good gift...right?