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| At the miniature golf course. |
Ode on Solitude
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
Alexander Pope
Alexander Pope figures prominently in the book I’m (still) reading, The Age of Voltaire. I can relate to a large degree to the sentiment in his Ode. I like a little solitude now and then. Most of the things Pope extols are things I find desirable. He speaks of belonging to a place, a few paternal acres, his own ground. I have been blest to have obtained that, living in an ancestral home as I do, my very own paternal acres. I love the idea of obtaining my milk, bread, and attire from my own flocks and fields, but I don’t have a cow, I don’t grow grain for bread, and I don’t raise sheep or cotton or anything else wherewith to clothe me. My gardens, my orchard, and my chickens are my source for homegrown food. But we do have a local dairy and farmers nearby who provide us with other commodities. To have health of body and peace of mind is something I possess most of the time. Sound sleep, study, recreation, and meditation are things I usually enjoy. I suppose I don’t really want people to lament at my death if I have lived long and loved well. But the genealogist in me shudders at the thought of lying in an unmarked grave. Sorry Alexander, I cannot give you that.
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| A sunflower field on Greenman Hill. |
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| One of my sunflowers. |
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| Another of my sunflowers. |
We’ve had summer guests almost continuously here for quite a while starting way back in June, but things are slowing down now. Tabor went home on Monday. Rachel was going to go home on Tuesday, but decided to stay a few days longer. Missy and Chance and their children departed on Tuesday morning. Rachel and her children and Kohl and her children all left on Thursday. Then on Thursday evening our niece Kailie and her husband Ian and their baby Theo arrived to spend a few days with us. When they leave, that should be the end of our summer guests.
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| Good-bye to the Roberts family. |
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| Good-bye to the Attwaters |
When the last guests have departed, the Compound will lapse into some semblance of solitude. There will be no more big meals on the Shillig’s back porch. No more mini bikes, hover boards, and other vehicles zooming around the property. No more adventurous excursions. We who remain will retreat into our old routines and let the quiet settle in again. I think I’m ready for that, but that feeling will probably be short-lived. We are at the end of August and it feels like summer is ending even though there are technically weeks of it yet to come.
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| A game of croquet. |
But while everyone was still here, there was the usual amount of frenetic activity. On Monday we went miniature golfing. That evening we had a cookout at the fire pit. On Tuesday afternoon Rachel, Miriam, and Kohl took the children geocaching. If you don’t know what that is – it is a sort of treasure hunt using GPS. People hide things and record the location with GPS and others go and find them. On Wednesday we were treated to a special movie viewing at the Coudersport Theater. We selected a movie DVD and got to watch it on the big screen. And there was popcorn and candy from the concession stand, which everyone loved.
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| Miniature golfing. |
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| Florence the golfer. |
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| Monday's cookout. |
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| Monday's cookout. |
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| Geocaching. |
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| At the movies. |
School started on Wednesday and, although we haven’t been called in yet – we usually aren’t during the first days and weeks – we have to be ready just in case. That makes it feel even more like summer is over. The sound of the school bus going up the road in the morning makes me cringe a little. When I hear it, I can feel the world sliding towards fall. I’ve even seen a few trees showing color already.
The weather was mild all week, warm, but not too hot. The latter part of the week was rainy. Thursday night around midnight we had a real storm with lightning and thunder and heavy rain. It went on for over an hour. It woke me up several times. We kept busy all week with the increasingly pressing job of harvesting. I finished harvesting poppy seeds and pulled up all the plants. The poppies of 2023 are gone now. I spent hours weeding and removing spent plants from the flowerbeds. I’ve stopped deadheading flowers. It’s time to let them go to seed to ensure flowers in next year’s garden. I cut loads of gladiolus and brought them in for bouquets. We dug more potatoes, picked more broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, strawberries, and some raspberries. I harvested the shallots and set them to cure. The zucchinis are still going strong. I’m tired of looking for them and when I finally do, I find giants hiding under their enormous leaves. Miriam has been making zucchini bread almost every day. We pulled up most of the onions and hung them to cure. We picked green beans. We’ve had some ripe tomatoes, but most of them are not ready yet. I picked a few cabbages, but I’m still pondering on what to do with forty of them. We suffer from an embarrassment of riches.
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| Too many big zucchinis. |
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| Bringing in glads. |
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| One of Miriam's bouquets. |
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| Pulling onions. |
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| Hanging onions to cure. |
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| Picking green beans. |
The growing world is starting to look late summer weary. There are lots of empty places in the garden where things have finished and gone for compost. Many plants – flowers and vegetables – though still productive, are looking a bit ragged, some from insect depredations, some just because they are old and nearing the end of their brief lives. The big maple trees in the front yard look a little tired. But the garden is still full of color. The late summer flowers – dahlias and gladiolus, marigolds, cosmos, nasturtiums, coneflowers, rudbeckia, helenium, and phlox – with their intense colors, make the declining season glow with bright color. The potted night-blooming jasmine on the back porch stairs is in bloom and its perfume in the evenings is intoxicating.
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| Rudbeckias in the meadow. |
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| The dahlias. |
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| Part of the long border. |
It was cool, overcast, and rather dreary this morning. There were clouds hugging the tops of the hills. When I went out on my walk, it felt like fall. To the west, there was a V of a dozen geese flying low over the trees, getting ready to land on Burrell’s pond. To hear them crying made my heart sad. It’s too soon. Church went well today. I always make an assessment of our meetings when I get home since I feel responsible for them. We had good hymns, good talks, good lessons. Now we’re home. It’s still chilly and gray outside. I tried to boost my mood by filching a few cookies before lunch. Miriam made pumpkin yogurt chip cookies and they are delicious. It looks like the first part of the week will be rainy. I’ll have to make some adjustments to my to do list. I have lots to do with harvesting, but not when everything is wet. Maybe I’ll do some work down in the barn. I hope you have a good Sabbath.
