Dutch Mountain

          I am late.

          I am so very very late.

          "Peg, what are you late for?" you ask.

          I'm late for our weekly visit! Writing these weekly letter blogs is a two-day event for me. I normally start on Saturday and finish on Sunday. But don't go thinking all of my time is devoted to just writing for those two days. I still have a husband and a whole herd of critters to take care of. But the reason I didn't start writing this week until today, Sunday, is because we went on a Jeep ride to Dutch Mountain yesterday — and we had a fabulous time! But before I get into that, which is going to be mostly pictures, let me tell you about the rest of my week.

          Our grandson Andrew sent us a box! How about that!

          "Pop-pop likes candy," Andrew wrote and included a ginormous Snickers bar, and "Mimi drinks hot stuff." He picked out this mug special for me.

          I've been meaning to send Andrew a thank you card and these two pictures but time has gotten away from me. At this point, I'm thinking I'll just include it in his Valentine's Box.

          My week started with a mystery.

          I scooped the litter boxes and went to toss the pickings into the weeds and I see blood.

          Uh-oh, I think. Someone died last night. And quite honestly I was thinking a bird got a rabbit. The only tracks I see in the snow belong to a bird. 

          My suspicions were confirmed, at least in my own mind, when I see drag marks and no tracks.

          That's where he drug the rabbit as he was taking off, I think. 

          I took a little walk-about to see what I could see and found an even bigger blood patch and again, only bird tracks — a lot of bird tracks. I looked for fur or feathers but didn't find any. Now I'm beginning to wonder if a turkey didn't get hurt someplace else and flew in here. I don't know much about tracking or reading signs, but I'm going to venture a guess that he laid in the snow for a little while because his body heat left bare patches in the snow. 

          On the other side of the property, I found these odd tracks. What animal leaves tracks like this? It's very distinctive in its two by two pattern.

          And these? I've never seen any dogs running loose around here. Could these be fox or maybe coyote? 

          It was on my mind and bothered me so much that I went out again the next day looking. The red arrow is the one I found the first day. But I found more blood a little further in the weeds the next day. 

          Maybe some of my hunting friends and family can see enough in the pictures to tell me what they think was going on here.

         

          We'd gone out someplace and I spotted a hawk in a tree.

            I had time to zoom in but had to turn around in my seat to catch him as we zoomed by. This is the best I got. I love the raptors. 

          Sometimes I don't think fast enough to get a picture I think I want.

          "Mike, would you turn around for me, please?"

          "Why?" he asked even as he applied the brakes.

          "I think there was a cat back there by the barn."

          "Or maybe a skunk?"

          Mike must've caught a glimpse of the black and white critter hunkered down beside the barn too and that thought had crossed my mind. How cool would it've been to get a picture of a skunk. But it was just a cat. I don't know who lived in the house across the road from this barn but they're gone now. "Maybe they left the cat. We should take it home with us," I decided.

          "Pfft. Lots of luck catching it."

          And I knew he was right. We'd never catch him and our cats wouldn't readily accept a strange cat.

          I was searching the internet for wire flower ideas and I came across a lady making feathers out of old CDs and alcohol inks. I thought the effect with the alcohol ink was interesting and thought I'd like to use it for my flowers.

          Now, if you Google it, there are lots of ways to make your own alcohol inks. Me? Since I have leftover printer ink for a printer we trashed, I used those to make my alcohol ink. I mixed up red and blue to use for my test and I already had a bunch of flowers and leaves made with glue and ready to be painted. I chose one, dipped it in red and watched as the alcohol dissolved the glue.

          Stop laughing.

          "Peg! How did you not know that alcohol would dissolve glue?"

          I don't know, but I obviously didn't or I wouldn't've done what I done!

          I applied a new layer of glue on the partially dissolved petals, dipped my brush in the blue ink and dabbed a bit of it on while the glue was wet. Now it's dry and waiting for me to decide what I'm going to do with it. 

          But I really wanted to play with my alcohol ink! So I dug out an old CD and made some feathers. I laid one out and randomly applied the inks then waited for it to dry.

          And waited.

          And waited.

          Even waiting 24 hours and even using a little heat, the inks didn't dry. I wiped it off with a paper towel and broke my feather. I'm guessing I made the cuts on the side too deep because another one broke too. I don't know what went wrong with the color but it'll give me something to mull over.

          "Peg, what were you going to do with the feathers?" you wonder.

          I don't know. But I was thinking that if it works then I can cut butterflies out and color them for my wire suncatchers.

          I know I said sunrises don't have to be all pinks and reds (and yellows and blues) to be beautiful and I think I heard some of you scoff! So for all my scoffers out there this week will feature two beautiful sunrises. This one happened on the morning Mike had an early doctor's appointment. 

          As soon as we climbed the hill out of Wyalusing Mike could see the smoke (or steam) rising in the sky.

          "Where do you think it's from?" he asked me.

          "I'm guessing the power plant at Wysox."

          Mike was fascinated with it and every time we topped a mountain we could see it getting closer and closer.

          I was right. It is the power plant.

          We left for our appointment extra early because we weren't sure where we were going plus we'd have to do new patient paperwork. We were to go to the vascular center beside the hospital in Sayre and didn't have any trouble finding it.

          "What's the problem," the tech asked and Mike explained the spots on his toes.

          I asked for permission to take a couple of pictures for my blog and here the girls are putting pressure cuffs on Mike's legs and feet. 

          Much like taking your blood pressure, they listened for his heartbeat as they inflated the cuffs.

          Here you can see some of the spots on his toes. He's got more in between with some of them even having purple centers. One doctor said athlete's foot, but the medicine didn't clear it up. Another doctor said no, not athlete's foot but didn't know what it was and prescribed an antibiotic. It started to clear up then stopped. They don't itch, they don't hurt, and he still has it.

          "I don't know what your problem is," the gal said when she was done, "but circulation isn't it."

          On the way out I was fascinated with the pencil drawings that lined the walls in this section of the hallway. 

          We were invited to go on a ride up Dutch Mountain with three other couples from my church. The tentative plan was for a cookout but in case of bad weather, there were a couple of restaurants where we could have lunch instead.

          As Saturday approached, the weather forecast was for freezing rain in the morning changing to all rain for the rest of the day. Higher elevations could expect a rain-snow mix.

          "I don't wanna go if the weather's bad," Mike said to me.

          "Neither do I," I said back to Mike. "If it's going to rain all day I won't be able to take pictures."

          We backed out of the trip and I said as much in my morning love notes to my peeps. "Some of the best pictures are taken in the rain," my cute little red-haired brother Richard pointed out.

          S'kay. That wasn't my only reason. The other reason it didn't bother me to cancel was cause it cut into my blogging time.

          Then, Friday night, Mike says to me, "I wanna go on the trip."

          I tried to hide my shock. "All right then, we'll go!" I texted a couple of people and un-canceled the trip.

          Saturday we woke to rain and sleet, just as had been forecast.

          "You ready?" Mike asked.

          I looked at the clock. "We don't have to leave yet," I whined. "We don't have to be there until 9:30!"

          "So. I wanna be early."

          "What are we gonna do if we get there early?" I asked.

          "Sit and talk."

          I threw up my hands. "Okay." We got ready and headed out.

          The first thing we encounter is a man and his dog. 

          Mike pushed the button to lower his window as we pulled abreast of Lamar and Tux, and stopped.

          "Good morning Lamar!" I called cheerfully from my side of the Jeep.

          "Good morning."

          "Think it'll rain?" Mike asked.

          A big grin graced his handsome face as he stood in the steadily falling rain and said, "Naw!"

          We took the back dirt roads over Wells Mountain, the shortest way to Larry and Sherri's house where the Jeepsters would meet to start their adventure.

          — and it wasn't long before I was snapping pictures.

          Hmmm, I thought. Maybe Richard was right after all.

 

    

           "I hope we're not too early," Mike apologized as we were welcomed into the Schreiers' home.                

          "It's alright," Sherri said. "We're ready and just waiting for everybody to get here."

          "Actually I was thinking about coming over last night," Mike, the consummate jokester said.

          Sherri laughed. "Now that I might have objected to."

          It wasn't long until the other couples arrived. "I want to be last," Mike told me as we sat in the Jeep waiting for everyone to take their place. "That way if I see them slide off the mountain I can stop in time." Another joke I'm sure. With Larry and Sherri in the lead, Pastor and Mrs. next, Mike and Jody, and the Luby's bringing up the rear, we set off for our adventure — in the rain!

          My challenges became evident pretty quickly as I tried to take a picture of our little caravan. A cracked windshield and my camera wanting to focus on the rain. I still got plenty of pictures but I missed way more.

          Sherri already warned me that she wanted to stop and get a picture of the Jeeps lined up. When Larry stopped I knew this was the place she picked for her picture. Mike started to edge around Mike and Jody's Jeep. "No. Stay in line so Sherri can get her picture," I told him. Did he listen to me? No!

          Heading back to the Jeep was the first I realized that Pastor and Mrs. brought the pups with them. This one's Morgan.

 

           Watching the landscape change was fascinating. Here and there were huge patches of some kind of vegetation, but we didn't stop so I could get a closer look at it.

          Mike and I started watching the elevation on our GPS and there was more snow and ice as we climbed.

 

          I saw the graffiti on the rock as we were passing it. Mike was kind enough to back up so I could get this picture for you. 

          Rocks! A long stretch of hillsides covered in rocks, some of them huge!

          And we kept climbing.

           "Twenty-one hundred feet!" I exclaimed. "Do you think we'll hit twenty-two?"

          "Yeah. I think we're still climbing," Mike said.

          "What do those lines mean?"

          "I don't know."

          I pulled out the manual out but couldn't find it in there. Anyone know?

          We came to a section where there were a lot of white marks on the trees. "What do they mean?" I asked. "I know purple means no trespassing."

          "I don't know," Mike answered. "But they took the bark off before they put the white on. Maybe it's reflective."

          We didn't stop to read this one.

          We did stop to read this one.

          Pastor gave Morgan and Peanut a break since we were stopped.

          Then we were on the way again and watching the altitude climb. Twenty-three forty-three was the highest our GPS said we were. 

          The sign begs to differ. 

 

          We stopped for lunch at Ricketts Glen Hotel. "We've never been disappointed in the food here," Larry told us.

          We sprinted for the door. "You ain't gonna melt," Mike teased Jody.

          "Like the Wicked Witch of the West," someone said. I don't know who. But I do know Jody said this, "She was made of brown sugar."

          I was surprised. "How do you know that?"

          "Because I read all of the Frank L. Baum books," she said.

          There are fourteen Oz books and I'd actually read one of them. I know this, it didn't look much like the TV version.

          I paused on the deck long enough to snap a picture of butts swimming in an ashtray full of water. No smoldering butts here!

          "Peg, you're weird!" you say.

          I know, right! Inside, on the windowsill, were hand-painted wine glasses. They were pretty. 

          I took a picture of the Jeepsters. "You're not in it!" Someone complained. 

          Then I asked Cathy, our waitress to take a picture. She almost got us all in!

          We were tickled because they advertise they're in the middle of nowhere. 

          "And the clam chowder is epic!" I pointed out.

          "I'll be the judge of that," Jody's Mike piped up. "I've had clam chowder all over and I'll know if it's epic or not!"

          The rest of the table was involved in a conversation of their own when Carolyn, Pastor's wife, asked, "Peg, how do they take the paper off the straw and leave the top on like that?"

          "I don't know. We'll ask Cathy. She'll tell us." 

          When Cathy came around and I had a chance to ask, the rest of the table had fallen quiet. "Cathy, how do you get the paper off the straw and leave the top on like that?" I asked.

          Everyone at the table and I mean everyone! — knew except me and Carolyn. "Twist it!" came the chorus. And Cathy got a fresh straw and showed us.

          Larry and Sherri ate only half their sandwiches and since they're married, they shared a to-go box. As Sherri shut the lid the toothpick holding the sandwich together came out the top.

          "Just be careful when you pick it up," Jody advised.

          "I think I'd've taken the toothpick out first," was my not-so-helpful remark.

          "That's okay," Sherri said. "It helps to hold the top down."

          The rain hadn't stopped while we were having lunch but it did slow down. Jody stooped and picked up a handful of snow.

          "OH NO!" her Mike cried in mock terror. "A SNOWBALL! That better not be coming at me!"

          Jody turned and threw it in my direction. She missed by a mile! I just don't know if it was intentional or it was just a bad aim.

          "She's a lefty!" you say.

          She is!

          Back on the road again and we made our way home by a different route. 

          "What's that?" I asked seeing something huge and looming in the field ahead of us.

          "It's hay," Mike answered. Nothing wrong with his eyes.

          "Why did he stack it up like that?" I wondered aloud. I didn't really expect Mike to have an answer. "I guess it's his hay and he can stack it any way he wants to it's just that I don't think I've ever seen it done quite like that before." A little farther on we see more hay stacked just like this.

          "I wonder how he got it up there," Mike said.

          I couldn't avoid the crack when I took this one.

          We had a great day and I look forward to our next adventure with the Jeepsters.

          Let's end with the other sunrise picture I took and call this one done.

          Done!