Lois Masters had her 100th birthday yesterday (09/11/26) and today her family had a celebration at the Miamisburg American Legion.
Our pile of logs has been growing over the past few years due to trees coming down. It serves as a great screen to our burn barrel so I like it for that. But as it grew higher and wider, it also occasionally fell. Recently the top was leaning into the yard and I expected it to let go at any moment.
Nice problem to have: too much wood. Though we have a wood-burning Buck stove insert in our fireplace, I've never much liked carrying wood in and carrying ashes out. But it's always been something positive to consider when the power goes out in the winter (and it certainly does).
Nevertheless, we had too much wood. I told friends some was available for the taking but I didn't have a single person show any interest. Until one of Tom's friends in West Chester said he'd take some off our hands. Tom is driving down today to a meeting of his Star Wars club and he'll take a load of logs with him.
But that meant loading some into his truck.
It's not a project either of us have looked forward to. My back won't take much exercise of that sort. So, too, Tom. But late yesterday - temperature near 80° - we got to it.
Tom left the truck sit there overnight. I woke about 6 am and heard it storming and figured the truck might need unloading in the rain. But radar shows the rainy area small and I think they'll be able to complete the work and stay dry (except for the sweat).
The pile hasn't changed as much as we thought it would. Tom rearranged much of it so it doesn't lean inward. At the very least, we bought time. Tom's friend says he'll take more at another time.
I watched the clouds all day yesterday because I knew there was going to be a great pass of the International Space Station just after 9 pm. As the day wore on the clouds became broken and there were even patches of clear sky. So it looked good.
The schedule was this:
9:17 pm - 10° to my SW
9:21 pm - 77° to my SE
9:22 pm - 30° to my ENE
I was standing beside the garden with my phone on the tripod running video as I first saw the moving point of light. Here's the beginning of the pass:
You'll find plenty of references to our Night Blooming Cereus. I've been watching this plant - which Tom started from the original - grow its first buds. Yesterday they exploded into ready-to-open buds and we went out onto the enclosed porch at 10 pm and saw them in full flower.
To see other blog posts about this plant, use the search bar at the top left.
For the past eight days it's been hot and dry. We had some rain on 08/27 but other than that, we've had a stretch of 15 days without rain. That's odd, especially with August recording over 13" of rain. It simply tuned off.
Yesterday was the hottest day of all (a 95° high) and also the hottest of the season. I recorded no temperatures that high last year, either.
While I was watching radar yesterday mid-afternoon, storms started forming to our NW. I walked into the back yard as they neared and listened to the approaching thunder.
At 3 pm the storm arrived.
We received a notification to take shelter. Certainly the winds approached 60 mph as some local law enforcement reported. The Tempest recorded 7370 lightning strikes within about 25 miles of here.
Here's what radar looked like:
We have lots of smallish limbs down. I cleaned the largest up this morning but it's going to take some time to get the small stuff. I may just mow it.
Most notable was the instant drop of the temperature. It fell from the 95° high to about 70° in what seemed like minutes. It was actually chilly.
Sadly we received only 0.15" in the rain gauge and that's not enough to even water the lawn.
I awoke to thunder during the night. And radar is still showing thunderstorms upstream of here. But it looks like they'll miss us to the NE. So that may be the end of it.
Later: I was taking a short nap when Tom went out and began burning limbs ... and collecting more. It's now hours later (and 87° and humid) and he's shirtless and still at it. What a job!
Later still ...
Tom spent much of the afternoon picking up limbs (I helped) and then burnt what we collected. The largest debris is gone but there are still plenty of twigs lying about. I hope the mower takes care of them.
Many people don't know about the Autumn Crocus and I didn't know we had any until a couple of years ago. I obviously planted them and forgot. They're in the nature reserve and about two years ago I mowed a path through there that happened upon the spot where these are growing. I was actually startled by the lavender on the ground.
I do remember seeing the lily-like leaves in the spring and never knew what they were. But once I had identified them during their blooming cycle, I watch for them every fall.
They're planted behind (west) where I have naturalized the daffodils.
Oddly, the bulbs are not bothered by squirrels. They also disregard the daffodils but I cannot have any other spring bulbs (tulips, hyacinths, etc.). This year I also noticed that all the Surprise Lilies ("Naked Ladies") are gone.
As pretty as they are, the plants are toxic so it's good thy are not in the yard where Parker might get to them.
With all the rain we've had in August (almost 14") we've had only half an inch in the last ten days. It's actually getting quite dry out. Thus the probable explanation for what we're witnessing at our hummingbird feeder. Or rather the "ant moat" above it.
I keep the moat filled with water. It's certainly a small source ... but it is fresh water.
Enter this squirrel ...
I was doing lunch dishes today when I realized I was being watched. I called Tom to come and take a look.
It's a stretch but the squirrel can hang by her toenails (I think it is female) and manage to sip water from the ant moat. I found it draining too quickly a month ago and I happened to see the squirrel then also.
She'll drink a bit - upside down yet - and then stand atop the branch and lip her lips. I'm sure, as small as the source is, that it's still a great refreshment and handy. She has found the perfect source to satisfy her thirst in this tree.
