Boys of Summer

Benjamin and I are reading To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee right now.  At night after he's done his homework, we read a chapter.  He always begs me to read "just one more, Dad."  I usually relent.  It's a good book.  Tonight we were reading about the summertime exploits of Jem, Scout and Dill and the book states,

"There are no clearly defined seasons in South Alabama; summer drifts into autumn, and autumn is sometimes never followed by winter, but turns into days-old spring that melts into summer again."

What a perfect description of summers around South Louisiana as well.  The last two mornings, however, there has been a hint of a breeze blowing from the north, gently blowing the muggies out into the Gulf.  We have a lot of summer left to go, but we'll take whatever respite we can get.

Cosmos in the backyard

If you ever want to plant flowers that tolerate the heat, Cosmos flowers are the ticket.  These things bloom all summer long.  The boys have settled back into the school routine.  They get their homework done and then when we get home at around six, we do chores while we still have daylight.  Yesterday we limbed out the branches of the big limb that broke out of the pecan tree and drug the branches out to the burn pile.  Russ was the lumberjack and I did the dragging.  Benjamin supervised the operation with his dog, Promise.  I think Tricia taught him that skill.

Before

After

Everyone should have a burn pile.  We pile up all the sticks and limbs that fall out of the trees during the year and have several bonfires when it gets cooler.  I don't know what it is, but I like to pull a bench next to the fire and just stare into it.  It's very relaxing.  We usually make "silver turtles" or foil meals where you take a seasoned hamburger meat patty, sliced carrots, sliced onions, sliced potatoes and wrap it up in aluminum foil.  Once your bonfire has burned down, you throw the foil meal directly on the coals and cook for 15 minutes on each side.  Then you pull them out, open the foil and eat directly from the package - no mess.  We'll do some marshmallows, too.  Everything tastes better on a campfire for some reason.

I figure we should go check in on Sally Henny Penny.  She's the hen that got broody that I told you about in the posting on Monday, August 6th.  She's sitting on a clutch of eggs.  Chickens hatch out in 21 days, so they should all hatch out on or around August 27, but likely sooner since the nest was hidden and I have no idea when they were laid.  We'll see what happens and report back if chicks hatch out.  




Sally's not too happy with me invading her personal space.

 If you walk outside in summer in South Louisiana you hear a loud singing.  I don't know what else to call it.  It is the sound of cicadas or locusts.  They vibrate some membrane in their exoskeleton and emit a deafening sound that persists for what seems like all summer long.  I read where some of them have a 17 year lifespan.  They live underground in the nymph stage for most of their lives.  Here are some of their holes from which they've emerged to sing to us.

They'll emerge from the holes and molt, shedding their skins.  I'll catch a few like this and feed them to the chickens.  Chickens LOVE to eat these guys.

They'll leave the exoskeleton behind and emerge as adults, ready to start the cycle again - a 17 year lifespan.  Wow.

 

Speaking of lifespans, this past fall we lost a large water oak in our front yard.  I talked to a forester and learned that the lifespan for a water oak is about 70 years.  At that point the oak will begin to die, hollow out and lose limbs.  As I saw that starting to occur, I had it cut down so that we could get some firewood cut, let it cure and have wood for the fireplace this winter.  I had the tree cut down and we split it and stacked it in the pasture.  We got 3 1/2 cords of firewood!  We're set for a few winters.

What we were left with was a large stump in the front yard or what some might call an eyesore.  I called two separate gentlemen who have stump grinding services and asked their price.  The asked for the measurement of the stump and the diameter was 39 inches, a very large stump indeed.  They both quoted me $250.

I began thinking that there must be another alternative and the little gears in my head started turning as I began to think of a plan.  My plan involved removing the stump as a way to get in shape and teach the boys good work ethic, persistence and frugality.  In Cajun French there is a name that I have been called (lovingly, I'm sure) many times.  The name is “tête dur!”  It means hard-headed.  I guess I'm guilty as charged.  Each day for about a week and a half after work, the boys and I went out with an axe and chopped around and aroung the stump.  Each day the stump would get smaller and smaller.  We'd rake up all the wood chips and set them on fire around the stump and then chop more the next day.  Within a week and a half, in addition to callouses and sore backs, we had this:  (A bare spot where a stump used to be.)


Ain't that pretty!

 Sweet victory.  No more stump and no more mowing around another obstacle in the yard.  In no time, the grass will grow over it and you'll never know a huge tree with a trunk 39 inches in diameter ever stood in that spot.  The boys were able to learn a lesson about perserverence, hard work, the importance of keeping an ax sharp, safety in chopping, and we even helped with our own economic stimulus as we were able to take the $250, inject it into the local economy and turn it into a canoe!  We work hard and play hard and hopefully make a few memories along the way.

I guess if we were really aggressive, the boys and I could have used the ax to make our own canoe out of the big pecan branch like the Indians used to do:


A pecan log pirogue?

 But I'm not feeling that energetic (or hard-headed)!