log house was the original homestead of the Conlin family. It was
donated to the town when their homestead was re-created into the
Conlin Farm. A site of baseball, volleyball, and soccer fields; and
the log house has never been truly recognised in the settlement of
Perth and so it sadly sits at the end of lane in another park
gathering dust and critters and the odd adventurer.
last three weeks I've been playing hide and seek with son of Petit La
Rouge. He's a smart one. Always removing himself from the area when
I'm outside. I've listened to his rumblings in the attic, the
gnawing in the kitchen walls and the incensant skinning of walnuts to
store for the upcoming winter.
trap was placed in the attic. After a week it was removed with no
sign of the offered nuts and peanut butter touched nor no sounds
heard. Not more than half an hour after its removal the racing
began. The declaration of war was made when he spent an hour in the
space above my bedroom. He finally quieted when the book I was
reading contacted with the ceiling. Was it my yelling “knock it
off!” that did it? I doubt it but I was glad it was a paperback.
listened to the lads at work offering their supped up killing traps,
pellet guns, and recipes of poisons but I can't. It's just not me.
I even live trap mice, take them for a drive to the country and
release. Mosquitos are fair game though. I have no mercy when
dealing with those blood suckers.
life of me I couldn't find where he was getting in until I happened
to step outside, saw him scurry onto the roof from the walnut tree,
and followed him slinking in under the roof vent. AHA! I caught
you, you furry fecker! The next day I scanned the roof and saw a
hole in the METAL vent. So that was what the gnawing was all
about. And I thought it was the grinding of walnuts.
I heard ping ping ping, and thinking it was someone at the door I too
scurried in to the house. Checking all entries and finding no one, I
shrugged and carried about me day. The next morning I found a walnut
on the basement floor. Looking up, I surmised it had rolled down the
chimney, bounced onto the furnace pipes, hence the pings, and onto
the floor. I will
admit I stood and laughed.
re-borrowed the live trap and placed it outside where he gathers
walnuts. Filled it with peanut butter and walnuts of course. I'll
get you now I thought, and then we'll go for a very long drive into
the country side where you can live and play with your kind. A day
later I checked and the walnuts were gone. ~sigh~ I'm trying
here fella but you are trying my patience!
roofer has been contacted and he will “swing by” when he's in
town next. Swing by? I told
him I need the vent replaced before the house sinks due to the extra
weight of walnuts. All I
need is a person to climb the roof, seal the vent, trim the
overhanging limbs and begone. I'm not
asking for world peace, geeez
two goals are 1. Seal the hole in at least one vent; and 2. Take
Petit McRouge for a drive. One thing I surely know is that it is
never boring around here.
wonderful day was spent at the Lanark Archives researching the family
forest. I've decided to focus on the mossie branch for now. The
ladies couldn't have been more helpful. One in particular spent
hours loading my table without me asking. I felt she was a mini me,
give a hint and away she went searching for information.
finally resolved the original family settlement in 1845. That
probably means they arrived in 1844 and spent the winter at
Brockville. That will remain to be researched. However! And I'm
tickled to discover the reason for the Moss School. It was built on
the original settlement
Thomas Moss which to me means that man believed in edumakation! Yes!
I couldn't be happier.
Eliza's last will was found and though it's thorough it's also
poignant. She couldn't write so her X marks the spot of her
signature. Sad that but in those days it was the norm. Along with
the note of anyone having a double S in their name meant it was spelt
with FS instead of SS. My head nods too.
Like your favorite flooded cave, your kindness is deep. You have a strong work ethic and are not afraid to hop to it to get the job done. Far from a flaky frog, you don’t jump to conclusions. Ever since you were a tadpole, you’ve been easygoing and likeable and are a good leader without being mossy, so other frogs lean on you without knowing it. Thanks to Michelle at Rambling Woods :)
Tsk tsk tsk
Ponderings From The Pond are from this mind. Photos are views from my lenses unless noted. I retain copyright on my words and my photos and may not be replicated elsewhere without prior written permission. Ponderings from prompts are acknowledged.