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Category: Rural and small-town living

Life far from freeways, Starbucks, malls, and other benefits/distractions

Before the storm: random ruminations on a not-quite-rainy weekend

Yesterday came sunshine — a brief respite between cold-and-wet and windy-and-really-really-wet. Thank you, November, for the small break. I took advantage of it to go meet a local who wanted to buy St. Guinefort the Greyhound. He’d seen it at the county fair and didn’t have much trouble tracking me down because — as it turns out — he’s one of the few locals who recognize my name from my writing. It also turned out (small town and all) that we have mutual acquaintances. Best of all (aside from the fact that he bought me a nice lunch and will…

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One of those weeks/random thoughts/much etcetera

It’s been one of those weeks. You know the kind. Nothing really terrible is happening, but the petty annoyances and small setbacks threaten to overwhelm all productivity. It started with Amazon’s sudden imposition of stupid security on vendor accounts, then went from there in a bruising week of itty-bitty pokes by Jokester Fate. I found a solution for the Amazon stupidity (thank you, parabarbarian), but getting it implemented involved hours of additional stupid. And so the days went, with my writer’s to-do list getting longer and my patience shortening by the hour. Yesterday I woke up to a tank-rental bill…

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Low tide on the slough

aka four more reasons I love living here. Click to embiggenate. We don’t get the spectacular fall colors around here, but I thought this was an okay approximation. This last one’s not particularly beautiful, but I’ve always been attracted to landscapes that look “layered,” as the various patches of vegetation in the foreground do. The yellow-brown band nearest the hill is cattail. Closer to camera is some type of heather or close relative of heather, and closer yet just some grasses, maybe some sedge. I don’t know what all the plants are. I just know I like looking at them…

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Rainy day cheer

Well, we have entered the Big Dark. The Big Dim. The Big Wet. Late October and the first weeks of November are usually the wettest part of the NorthWET’s year, and the rainy season has arrived with a series of three storms strung between China and our doorstep. Today the wind howls, small branches fall, mysterious knocks and crashes can be heard through the neighborhood, and rain blurs the windows. But it’s not cold and I am cozy now that all Ava’s required walks are done for the day (Neither snow no sleet nor gloom of night shall stop Ava…

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A couple freedomista Patreon creators

Of my 19 new patrons, two of them — familiar faces — have Patreon creator pages of their own. I was moved that creatives who are trying to raise money on Patreon themselves would step up for me. So here’s a shout-out to those two, whose work you’ll enjoy: Montana Homesteading is Kit Perez. You know her as the high-energy proprietor of The Patrick Henry Society and The Order of the White Rose. She started her homesteading blog on Patreon early this summer, then almost immediately had to set it aside to deal with everything from wildfires to a new…

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If somebody’d only told me I’d be taking pictures through black, salt-spattered glass …

Yesterday Neighbor J. took me to the Big City for a special treat. Not the utilitarian place I laughingly call the Big City. But the really cool place I laughingly call the Big City. So I’m behind on correspondence — especially on thanking people for subscribing to my Patreon. I’ll catch up with you. I promise! But it was a fine day. Even though it wasn’t a fine day. I took one of the new blog cameras with me, just in case. J. treated me to lunch at this incredible restaurant. I haven’t understood the point of people taking pictures…

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I suspect there’s a story here …

Seen around town: It was posted on a stop sign on an obscure side street, but visible from a main road. I have no idea what it’s about. However, A Revealing Clew was on an adjacent fence post: a sign announcing the location of somebody’s wedding reception. Perhaps the new Mrs. Hendrickson (who neither hunts nor fishes nor camps?) jilted an outdoorsy boyfriend. Perhaps Mr. Hendrickson (who neither hunts nor fishes nor camps?) stole the girlfriend of an outdoorsy buddy. We’ll never know. But wouldn’t you love to? Seen around my yard: A few of the neighbors’ chickens and their…

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I hate it when that happens

Been dry and warm. I’ve been working on the outside of the house (north wall, exterior of screen porch; I’d have pix except for my camera having died and the phone cameras being a PITA). But yesterday was misty. Enough that the “mist” dripped from the eaves all morning. So I slipped under the cover of the screen porch and returned to shingling the wall between porch and bedroom. A small fear I’ve been nursing soon proved true: I’m going to run out of shingles on the last row. On the very last freakin’ row. I hate it when that…

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The party place

That’s an Indian burial tree, so yesterday’s host told me. I wasn’t able to find out a lot about it, though it resembles Indian marker trees, but with the bend higher up, and I know some tribes did “bury” their dead in trees or on scaffolds. Anyhow, there were quite a few of these around the barbecue pavilion at the house where the cannon shoot took place. All cedars. An archaeologist told my hosts the trees were only about 250 years old and therefore had probably been prepared for burials but never actually used. Somehow that made it slightly less…

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I’d rather be hammering nails

… into the side of my head. Okay, I exaggerate Not into my head, but certainly into my house. There’s painting to do! Dirt to dig! Trim to trim! Instead, on this fine late-summer day (the kind of day that reminds you to savor every moment because there won’t be many more), I’m headed off to — ugh — socialize. Yes, I’m leaden with dread because (oh, I’m sure you’ll pity me so), I’ve been invited to spend my afternoon hanging out with a bunch of local artists and their friends at a gathering whose main purpose seems to be…

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