Mojo's Media

What a Difference a Weekend Makes....

So I do part time work for a particular nonprofit organization that shall otherwise go unnamed. And on top of everything else, the building and grounds are very nice. The building was designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, so it's very 1960-ish, with lots of floor-to-ceiling glass. And this has been my view the past week or so, with these Japanese maples just about at their peak (even a little beyond, because Mojo takes forever to get from "Gee, that's pretty--I should take a picture" to the actual picture).

And then I come back Monday to this.

Bye bye, autumn....time for winter!

Mojo

Mojo's Afternoon o' Sloth...

So I was up at three yesterday, doin' Important Stuff, and when I got back home in the early afternoon instead of taking a nap--which is what Mojo felt like doing, quite desperately--I instead decided to take a quick hike to my spot, since it looked and felt like one of the best last days of autumn. The lake gets REALLY COLD and windy once it freezes over, and the snow gets knee- and waist-deep, and a casual hike turns into some sort of endurance death march instead of a lazy stroll. And when you reach the lake, instead of "ahhh, here I am at the lake" you are instead sliced to ribbons by this freezing, freezing biting wind coming off the ice. So I tend to only hike down there in the winter when my Favorite Husband FORCES ME TO.

But for your continuing envy and edification, I took my cell phone with me, so in addition to fielding a call from my Favorite Older Sister I was able to document autumn's last gasp in Mojo's neck of the woods.

Why I Live Where I Live, Volume 1

 

In honor of what is quickly becoming Mojo's Lazy Friday, I offer something I first wrote about on misc.writing back in 2000 or so, around this time of year. Hound had asked us how we celebrated autumn, and I blathered on and on about one of Mojo’s Horsey Days. Now with the beauty of "teh Innertubes" I have expanded the text a hair and added pictures I took on that day, from waaaayyyy back in the Stone Age of Kodachrome slides. Enjoy!

 

Last week I took a day off from work for the first time in about a billion years. A friend owned a pair of Belgian draft horses, named Ginger and Lacey. We called them The Girls. I helped groom them, bridle them and harness them. We hitched them up to a small hay wagon and spend most of the day giving hay rides to the foliage tourists up for Columbus Day weekend. Four dollars for adults, two dollars for kids, for a fifteen minute circuit through the Berkshire countryside.

Ursa Minor Update

Update: The dog, Rosie, refused to go outside for the rest of the morning yesterday. Instead she went upstairs and stared out the bedroom window for several hours. She finally came back downstairs and went outside again around one or so in the afternoon. I am glad she's not a bear-worrier; they do say Golden Retrievers are, like, number four on the dog breed intelligence scale. Not Chasing Bears, I suspect, is a sign of intelligence.

Stop-Action Turkeys

I can remember the first time I saw a wild turkey. We were renting a house in the middle of an industrial park--sort of this island of woods and fields in the middle of this huge airport industrial park, maybe half a mile from the airport. We had this very long half-a-mile driveway, and we were on our way out--the driveway dumped us in the middle of an aerospace contractor's parking lot--when we encountered this huge bird sitting in the middle of our driveway. It was way too big and ugly to be one of our chickens, and not ugly enough to be a turkey vulture.

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