pokeweed

It's poisonous to humans, but the birds love the berries. (Humans can eat the young shoots, which are said to taste like asparagus--they certainly look like them--but not the berries, or the roots and leaves. Or so I was told, growing up.)

The birds are the reason I let this plant grow up to block the kitchen steps. (I don't go out that way often; the kitchen door is parallel to the living room door. The laundry room door is the "mud room" entrance.)

The beautiful purple stems are about the color of the ink you can make from the berries. I experimented with this as a child, once I acquired a quill pen. The dye is permanent. (Which is why I don't go out the kitchen door right now.)

Once the berries finish turning from green to purple-black, the birds will finish them off. They're getting started. These, on the other side of the house, are quite ripe.

I think you can see the little bare stems where the birds have pulled the berries off. I can see a few in this picture, but I know what I'm looking for.

It all means fall is coming, and I dread the return of cold weather, but I always find fall beautiful.

stopping at the mill

On my way home from the dog show I stopped at Weisenberger Mill, where I buy my flour. I make a trip there about four times a year to get it because none of the stores near me carry it. It isn't as old as the mill my father grew up in, owned by his father and grandfather, but that one no longer exists. As the granddaughter of millers I'm particular about my flour, and consider driving forty-five miles (instead of ten) quite reasonable.

The building is a nice example of early local concrete work.

Here's the water that used to power the mill. There's been very little rain lately, although we're not officially in a drought. Usually the water spills over the entire expanse of dam:

I was sitting on a guardrail with my back to the one lane bridge to take these and there was an amazing amount of traffic for a Sunday afternoon, so I was glad to get the angles I did get.

This is where I ran out of memory, something that has never happened before in the four years I've had this camera. Sunday was just full of good camera-fodder.

Sun bathing:

you know you live in the country when...

...the radio in the grocery is playing a very twangy version of Elvira and as you go through the aisles more than three people are singing along. (They aren't together. They know all the words.) The other woman in the ice cream aisle and I weren't singing, but we were dancing.  The non-singing, non-dancing shoppers don't seem to find this evidence of insanity.

dog show color

Even though dogs generally come in black and white and brown and mixtures of those, there was plenty of color to be found at the dog show.

On people:

And equipment:

I have no desire for colorful pooper scoopers:

But I never saw rally cones in anything but orange before. What can I think of to use them for? (Since I don't do rally.)

 

morning visitor

One morning last week as I was hanging the laundry out before I left for work I heard an enormous crashing in the woods behind the house. I wondered what it could be, because leaping deer don’t make nearly that much noise. Shortly after that I saw my neighbor's paint mare trotting down the "road" through the grass south of the house. She stopped about two-thirds of the way to the woods, looked around her, took a few bites of grass, and turned and went back the other way. This time I heard the chink of horseshoe on gravel as she took the easy way back. When I left a few minutes later I drove out somewhat slower than usual in case there was a Sudden Horse Event. When I reached the road I spotted her grazing with the J’s horses, only on the outside of the fence. I wonder if she went home or if my neighbor had to go fetch her home.

Sunday morning coffee at the dog show

Only fifty miles on a beautiful clear morning and even so I was late. (Of course the cup is empty; what did you expect?)

These springers were in the wrong ring at the wrong time, according to the program, but that's what being late gets you.

I was looking for poodles, though, and eventually they turned up:

Not the size I was looking for, but still.

There were plenty of dogs outside the rings, too:

This Bassett was relaxing before entering the ring.

Photographing the photographer, I had serious Hat Envy, especially as I'd left mine beside my lunch on the kitchen counter:

I gave up waiting for standard poodles to show, and went home for a very late lunch, through beautiful country that I don't travel through often enough, not stopping to take many pictures.

not cayenne yet

The peppers are working at being ready to harvest, though.

The big one has almost finished turning red.

The smaller ones are imitating a traffic light: red, yellow, green.
Fortunately I still have plenty of cayenne left, and can refrain from nagging them.
In this very hot summer I wonder how long it will take them to dry?