Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Deck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Out here in Backroads, our trees are BEAUTIFUL!

I feel like I am living in a New England calendar. Genius was dispatched this afternoon to record the views with hues for posterity. I suggested the glowing yellows down by the creek in the mailbox vicinity, or the street in town by the library and the dead-mouse-smelling post office. Genius, however, held out in favor of Hick's creekside cabin foliage. Most of which is now on the deciduous forest floor, thanks to last night's storm. That little structure in the background is not the cabin. It's a deer feeder.

The mailbox area caught my fancy when I stepped out to get the mail this afternoon on my way to town for a 44 oz. Diet Coke. No, we don't have mail delivery on Sunday. We have mail delivery on Saturday, and three guys who would forget their head if it wasn't held on by that flap of skin called a neck. The sky was overcast, making those yellow trees pop all the more. The air had that fallish smell of crushed leaves. But the wind whipped like the lion of March.

It was not an ill wind blowing no good. More like a wind of fortune. A windfall. The green metal pipe mailbox custom-made by Hick contained a letter for Genius from Missouri S&T. The school of science and technology. Formerly the University of Missouri-Rolla. Way formerly the School of Mines. The letter offered Genius a scholarship package of $8,500 per year. Nothing to sneeze at. He has until May 1 to accept. Right now he still has his heart set on MIT, then Stanford, then Washington University. He looks at Missouri S&T as his safety school. I look at it as a perfectly suitable choice for his engineering major.

That wind was out of control. Last night, it blew right into the very wall of Genius's bedroom window. He had a leak from the top of the window to the sill. Hick thinks the rain blew horizontally and ended up coming in through the soffit on the front porch roof. He checked the attic, and could find no evidence of a roof leak.

As I exited my Tahoe to re-fill-up my 44 oz. cup of liquid energy, the wind whipped around me like an invisible cartoon Tasmanian Devil. I daresay my shirt would have gone up over my head if I hadn't plastered it to my sides with both arms. The gales of November have come early. Such blustering should not be felt in Missouri. Backroads convenience store parking lots are NOT as exposed as the deck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

I love this season.


  1. I love this time of year, too. Congratulations to Genius. Hope he's planning on a minor in photography. That's beautiful.

  2. The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
    When the Gales of October came slashin'.
    When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
    In the face of a hurricane west wind.

    And son, Genius, knew, and Hick did too,
    T'was the witch of October come stealin'
    An untidy sight 'cause the wind nearly blew
    Shirt from parts that needed concealin'

  3. The trees ARE pretty this year. That's a lovely picture.

    You folks in the country are working too hard. Here in the big city, we don't set food out for the deer. They just come into our yards and eat the plants and ruin our gardens. Perhaps we need to give them your address and tell them, "Val's family will set out your food on a fancy little table. No need to forage if you relocate there--after all, you're such a fragile species, on the brink of endangerment."

    How 'bout it? Give us your address so we can send all our deer your way...

  4. That breeze is whipping through Ohio as I read. Shoving some rain along, too. Sounds nice out there.

  5. Quite a blustery experience for you. I love sweater weather.

  6. Ah yes, Missouri weather, 82 degrees tomorrow.

  7. Tammy,
    That's his hobby. I think his minor will be something about computers. His other hobby is using his engineering smarts to create stuff for his camera. Like a laser flash thingy that makes the camera take a picture when an object crosses the laser. Thus his photos of shattering light bulbs, and various fruits splashing into a tank of water.

    Hick used to set up hay bales and pumpkins in the front yard, but he has fallen out of the habit. Maybe because our dogs kept burrowing into the hay bales to sleep. I suppose the middle of the yucca plants was only for mid-summer nights' dreams.

    Wow! If you could read my could make a song out of that. Probably wouldn't even take you that long. I bet you'd be done before sundown comes creepin' 'round your back stairs.

    The deer already know where I live. They have a phone tree that they use whenever corn is dumped in the feeder. They throw bigger parties than those cows in Barnyard. They were just drinking to forget that even the males had udders.

    Be sure to hold your shirt down if you go to the convenience store for a 44 oz. Diet Coke!

    The inside of my classroom will be exhibiting sweater weather all winter. You and your sweater can drop in, but be sure to get a visitor's pass at the office so the security team does not have to chase you around the building.

    Shh...Stephen might already be on his way with his sweater.