Pre-Storm Snow

Winter hasn't been too bad yet out here in the woods.  But they claim we'll have a better taste of it this weekend-

Well actually, tonight.

But The first installment seems to have kinda passed us by.

When The Fuzz went out this morning

This was about it.

Pretty, but not that impressive.

Of course it hasn't been all that warm lately.

(It is January remember)

So the woodpile isn't looking all that impressive.

Especially with the Weather Service predicting this!

Of course they have been wrong at times.

But then....

The Old Fuzz's back has been acting up a bit the last couple of days, but it looks like he'll need to get the old chainsaw out for a little bit.

And he is doing a bit better today.

He has been saving this guy for just this sort of situation.

It was just about dead last year.

So The Fuzz gave it the "Green Spot" which is kinda like the "Kiss of Death".

And it is nice and close, so hauling it out of the woods is no problem.

Well...

It looks like it's time to get to work!

Leaves

This time of year the woods are pretty bare.  But the bare branches and dried leaves have an attraction of their own.

The other day while The Fuzz was out looking at something or other, (he seems to have forgotten* exactly what!) these hangers on caught his eye.  And since by a strange coincidence he happened to have a camera with him, he got a quick shot of them.

Sometimes the imagination can see things that...

Well, aren't there.

Like this little guy.

He's kinda spooky in a way.

And then who's to say what's really there-

Or what ain't?

*An increasingly common occurrence these days!

Schwan (4 A Glass of Wine)

A bit more of this story-

4  A Glass of Wine

It was already late on this early summer evening, but the sun was just setting.  The Princess Lillian was on her balcony overlooking the lake, enjoying a glass of wine in the cool evening air.  There was a knock on her chamber door.  it was Ella, her chambermaid, with a stranger in the dress of the Rangers.

"Please, your Highness," Ella curtsied.  "This is my brother, Karl, one of the Rangers.  May we speak to you, alone?"

Lillian was surprised at the unusual request.

"Any Ranger is welcome here.  My brother, the King, is a Ranger, himself,” she said.

Then, she dismissed her Lady in Waiting.

The chambermaid hesitated, and then began.

"We - some of the servants - fear for your life, Your Highness.  There is a rumor that the King was poisoned."

Lillian listened in silence.  That idea had occurred to her as well.

"This is a serious accusation.  And by who?"

Now the brother stepped forward bowing respectfully.

"The night the King fell ill, Your Highness, a cart was seen leaving the city.  It was unusual, and I followed at a distance, so not to be seen.  I followed all the way to the border, to Morlana."

Princess Lillian stared at him.  Her worst fears were being confirmed.  The man went on.

"At the border, the cart was met by a group of riders.  Then the driver mounted, and the party rode swiftly away toward St. Petersbridge, and the Duke of Morlana."

Lillian's blood ran cold.  The pieces were falling into place.  And now Fredrik was in Morlana, and in the power of the Duke.

She opened the door and called to the Man at Arms on duty.

"Summon the Court Physician!" 

The Doctor came with haste, fearing the worst after the death of the King.  He was relieved to find the Princess in good health.  Lillian had the chambermaid and her brother wait outside while she questioned the Doctor.

"The evidence fits, Your Highness."

"Then why have you said nothing?" 

Her tone was stern.

"The Rumors, Your Highness."  He was growing uncomfortable under her gaze.  

She waited in silence.

"The Rumor, that the Prince... or Your self... " now he could not meet her eyes, "...were behind it."  He finally got the last of it out with a great effort.

Anger rose up in the Princess.

"And you believed this slander?"

The doctor dropped to his knees.  This was a side of Lillian he had never seen.

"Please, Your Highness, we don't know what to believe these days.  I should have come to you; but..."

"But what?"

"They were watching me."

"Who?" she demanded.

"Those men... Slythain's men."

✠

The Duke was gone.  He had left Fredrik in his room alone.  Fredrik laid his sword on the table, and walked to the window.  It had grown dark by now, but Fredrik could see a few lights flickering in the town below.  And beyond that, in the moonlight, the river and bridge.

Several river boats were tied to the banks below the bridge.  It was to the river and the road, that St. Petersbridge owed it's prosperity.  And it was a prosperous town.  And much of that prosperity made it's way into the Duke's hands.

Fredrik's eyes were drawn to the bridge, visible now in the moonlight.  It was said to have been built by the Romans hundreds of years ago.  It crossed the river in three graceful arches.  If the Romans could do that, surely he could build a road.

He thought of his father.  If the Late King had intended that he, or Lily marry into the Duke's family, he had never mentioned it to Fredrik.  But then he had never mentioned a spy ring either.  Fredrik wondered just how many compromises a king had to make.  How many would he make?

For now he would meet these daughters of the Duke, and perhaps one would make a suitable wife. But Fredrik doubted that.  He thought that he would prefer a simple village girl, like his Grandfather had.

Already he missed home.  He thought of the mountains and the lake.  There was something of this castle that felt like a prison to him.  He would do his duty here, and leave.  And the sooner, the better.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.  At his answer, the Porter entered with a frightened young woman, carrying a large tray.

"Your dinner, Your Majesty, complements of the Duke." 

With that, the man stepped out, closing the door behind him.

✠

In the kitchen things had just been settling down after serving dinner to the Duke and the Archbishop, his guest.  The Castle Guard had been fed.  The sculleries were finishing their work and the servants were ready for their own meal, when the Porter came in.

There were some shouts, and some curses, and then the Porter came and pulled Elise by the arm.

"Get ready, and come with me.  I have a job for you."

Elise got wearily to her feet.  She had been working all day as usual.  Now she was tired and hungry.

"And clean yourself up!"

Anna, one of the older women came to her with a wet rag, and began scrubbing her face.  Elise had no idea what this was about.  One of the other women brought her a clean dress to put on.  It was just a bit large, but would have to do.  When the Porter returned, he handed her a large tray, filled with cold meats, bread, and wine.

"Follow me.  The Duke says it's time you began to earn your keep."

As they climbed the winding stairs, he gave her instructions.

"You are to entertain the Duke's guest."

"Isn't that Marguerite's place?"

"She is with the Archbishop."

Elise tripped on the narrow stairs, but caught her balance.

"Be careful, you clumsy girl!"

"But what about Samantha?"

"She's traveling with Rathard.

"Shut up and listen.  The Duke wants this guest to be comfortable- understand?  Do whatever he tells you!  If he's not happy… you won't be either."

Elise thought of the dungeon below.  Then, they were at the door.

✠

When the door closed, the woman remained standing, still holding the heavy tray.  Fredrik watched her for a bit.  Finally, when she still hadn't moved, he told her to set it on the table.  She did so, and then stepped back, looking down at the floor.

At first he was amused.  Then he became irritated.

"You can go now."

She looked up, more frightened then ever.

"Oh no, Sir!... The Duke... I have to stay... He'll punish me... Please!"

Fredrik's irritation turned to concern.  The woman continued...

"I have to wait on you... and..." 

She began to place the food on the table, but her hands shook so badly, that he was afraid she'd knock something over.  Finally he could stand it no longer.

"Stop it!"

Elise started at his words, knocking over a goblet which was fortunately, empty.  As she reached for it she was stopped by his hand on her wrist.  Her first reflex was to jerk her arm back, but his grip was too strong.  He lifted her hand, and led her away from the table.

"What is wrong with you?"

"N- Nothing, Sir.  It's just that... I've never done this before," she stammered.

"Set a table?" asked Fredrik, a little amused.

"No..."

Elise was beginning to calm down a bit.  Fredrik waited for her to continue.

... 'Entertain' the Duke's guest."

He suddenly realized what she meant.

She had said it with a heavy sigh.  But saying it seemed to calm her.  He still held her wrist.  He led her to the table, and sat her down in one of the chairs.  Then he poured wine into the goblet and put it in her hand.

"Drink!"

He spoke with authority and she obeyed.  As she raised the wine, she met his eyes for the first time.

Gone To Pot

It may be remembered that The Fuzz had dragged an old Iron Skillet out from his pile for the campers.

Well that wasn't the only cast iron down there.

So he brought this other one out to the woods.

As can be seen, it wasn't in exactly pristine condition.

He put it out under the shed for the time being.

This was probably another manifestation of that dreaded P-Factor.

The Fuzz is actually quite fond of iron cookware.  And people seemed to discard it from time to time.  With his position on the trash truck he had the opportunity to pick a piece up from time to time.

At one time he had a set stashed out at a campsite in the woods.

Unfortunately, this stuff sorta "disappeared" on him.

Of course there were still the ones in the kitchen- just some of the skillets.

Iron does have it's limitations.  For instance it's a bad idea to cook up tomatoes (or other acidic stuff) in it.

But let's face it, what better way to fry up a mess of bacon?

In this case, The Fuzz finally faced the fact that he would never get to actually use this thing until he got it cleaned up.

So he put some wire brushes in his drill and got the worst of the rust out.

Then he brought it inside, washed it off and dried it good in the oven.

Next he coated it pretty well with some oil and popped it back in there few a few hours.

It was looking better at that point.

To finish up, The Fuzz got out a nice little piece of Fat Meat and heated it up on the stovetop.  Then he rubbed this all over the inside of the pot and lid, and put it back in the oven.

A few days later, he finished the job by cookin' up a nice mess of pork, carrots, turnips and taters.

And here we are!

By the way, it was quite tasty.

Sunrise In The Woods

These Winter mornings make it easy to be up in time to greet the sun-

Assuming the sky is clear!

One can tell when the sun is about to pop into sight by watching the treetops.

Then it's time to watch the east.

Of course the clear skies also bring cold mornings!

But that's what they make warm clothes for.

And if one is already up anyway-

Why not grab a camera.

It is possible to view these things through a window-

But that makes for a lousy pix.

So The Intrepid Fuzz pulled on his hoodie and stepped out into this bracing morning air.

Schwan (3 A Necessary Trip)

Continuing with this tale-

3 A Necessary Trip

Fredrik was rowing.  He and Lily were alone in the boat on the lake.  It was something they had done since childhood.  In the distance they could see the castle and the town on the shore.  The lake was surrounded by rocky peaks, some still with patches of snow.

Fredrik stopped rowing and let the boat drift in the gentle breeze.

"I would never make you marry a fool like him," Fredrik told his sister.

"I never want to leave this place," she said.

"Then, I suppose you will die an old maid," he teased.  "Unless, of course, you were to marry some commoner."

Lillian's face reddened, and Fredrik laughed.

"I've see you together, and I know what you both want."  

"I think Rolf is afraid of offending you, Freddy."

"You know, he only need ask.  I would like nothing better for you... or him."

Lillian smiled and looked away toward Waterton and the castle set out into the lake.  Around the lake, the mountains rose into the sky.  This was her world.  Fredrik had seen the outside world, but it held no attraction for her.

"Will you go to the Duke?"  

"I'm afraid I must."

"But why?"

He hesitated a long time before answering.

"Morlana is our only link to the outside world.  We can't risk offending the Duke."

"What about Mother's people, Solland?"

"The road... the pass..."

"But the Romans built roads.  Aren't they the ones who made the road to Morlana?"

Fredrik was quiet.  He thought of all the reasons why it couldn't be done.  But what if it could?

Lillian turned back to look at him.  She held her head high; she was a Princess of Midmont.  

"If they did it, why can't we?"

It was a challenge.

✠

Fredrik did what he often did when he wanted information.  He went to the Abby and Friar John.

"To build a road?  You want to build a road?"

"What would it take to make the road to Solland better?  To make it good enough for wagons to cross the high pass."

"A lot of work, I think!"

"But it is possible?"

"Come, you need to talk to Brother Sebastian."

Sebastian was the monk in charge of building repairs and masonry for the Abby.  He was familiar with the southern pass to Solland, having crossed it several times on pilgrimages to the Holy City.  He gave it some thought.

"It could be done, your Highness.  It would take a few bridges over the streams.  But we've plenty of stone.  The hardest part would be at the top.  We would have to cut into the mountain a bit."

Brother Sebastian looked down at his weathered hands.  He had a lifetime of working in stone behind him.  The idea was beginning to grow on him.  He was starting to like this young King.

"I could do it, if you give me the men; and if the Abbot will approve."  

Already in his mind, he was working out the plans.  It would be his greatest work.

Fredrik sent word to the Queen's brothers in Solland of what he was proposing.  They were open to the idea.  So Fredrik directed the work to begin as soon as possible, under Brother Sebastian's supervision.

✠

But the invitation of Duke Richard could no longer be ignored.  Fredrik knew that the Duke had hoped to promote a marriage between Rathard and Princess Lillian.  That had failed.  But the Duke still had two daughters.  There was little doubt what he had in mind now.

But Fredrik had no intentions of matrimony as he rode out though the gates of Waterton on a fine summer morning.  Princess Lillian would rule in his absence.

The Kings of Midmont had never been much for show.  He was only accompanied by two men at arms, and Rolf, carrying the King's Banner.  Behind them in a cart rode Friar John, with a wizened old peasant at the reins.

Princess Lillian had met privately with Rolf the night before.  She was unhappy with Fredrik's leaving.

"Keep him safe," she told Rolf, as they walked on the battlements in the moonlight.  She had heard the rumors about Fredrik, and wasn't sure what to believe.

"Lily, those rumors about Freddy are nonsense.  He has good sense.  He won't do anything stupid.  I've known him all my life."  Then he added, "So have you."

"He thinks a lot of you, Rolf."

"I know.  But he is King now…"  And here he paused for a long time.  "…And you are a Princess."

The way he said it made her sad.

✠

Fredrik's party reached St. Petersbridge as the sun was setting.  Friar John and the cart turned toward St Peter's Abby.  Fredrik and his men rode on to the castle.

The castle was built on a rocky outcrop that loomed above the town.  The road wound up though the town toward the gates.  The guards had been notified of their approach, and saluted as the King entered.  The road continued to climb toward the inner gatehouse.  As they climbed it, Rolf could hear the gates closing behind them.

Torches were being lit in the courtyard as they passed though the inner gate.  The Duke was there to welcome them.  He seemed ill at ease.

"Greetings, your Majesty," he bowed, "I'm afraid we were not expecting you until tomorrow."

Several servants stepped forward, as the Duke continued;

"My servants will take care of your horses, and see that your men are fed and quartered."

Fredrik, and his men dismounted, as the men took the horses to the stables.

The Duke led Fredrik up a stairway, though the heavy doors, and into the castle.

"We have other guests here at the moment.  The Archbishop has graced us with his presence this past week.  Indeed, he means to stay some time," the Duke told him with some irritation.

The Archbishop ruled the Free City of Donstrum and the surrounding territories.  He was a powerful man, with ties to the Emperor, and he was close to the Pope himself.  The Duke now led Fredrik to the great hall and introduced him to the Archbishop.

The Archbishop was a heavy man with a bulbous nose and cold blue eyes.  There was no warmth, the greetings were all formalities.

It was growing late as the Duke led Fredrik to his room.

"You must be hungry after your travel.  Make yourself at home, and I'll have a meal brought to you in your chamber."

Then, he bowed, "Until tomorrow, Your Majesty," and took his leave.

Just Keeping Up With Things

Life is going on here in the woods for The Fuzz and His Sweetie-

And a lot of other places these days!

But here at home things are pretty much normal.

Like a lot of folks, The Fuzz likes to start his morning off with a bit of coffee.

He used to use an Old School Percolator Coffee Pot on the stove.

That worked pretty well for years.

But then he got exposed to those fancy "French Press" things.

He resisted for a while, but then finally caved in.

So now he starts out heating some water in the water kettle.

Then adds some grounds to the press, and pours in the water...

Gives it a quick stir...

Puts in the plunger...

And waits.

This gives him a chance to take care of some of those other waking-up-sort-of-things.

And then after 5 minutes or so...

There's a nice hot cup waiting for him.

And there are the other daily things going on.

There's always firewood to deal with.

Which brings us to this subject.

One of The Fuzz's firewood stashes, is under this porch.

It's handy, and keeps it kinda dry.

Well the problem was that whenever it rained-

which was when he wanted dry wood,

The rain would run off of the roof and onto the back

(and down the neck!)

of the person getting it.

The Fuzz had found a couple of old gutters in his scrap pile

(a handy thing to have)

over at the Old Place.

So he had brought them out to the woods and installed one over the cat & dog food compartment by the shed.

The that "P-Factor" kicked in, and he didn't get to this porch roof.

But now, as can be seen, even that has been took care of!

Just so everyone can see-

Just keeping up with things out here in the woods.