Any guesses as to what this is?

You want a clue? Well, it is out at Roundrock.

Missouri calendar:

• Raise purple martin houses today.

The forecast for the Roundrock area today is mostly sunny with a high around 50º. Did you remember to spring forward this morning?

That’s my new handsaw you see in the photo above. It can rip through a pole tree smoothly and quickly, and when it’s not in use, it folds into the handle so it will fit nicely in my backpack. My chainsaw has continued to prove balky; lately it just won’t stay running. Repairs are expensive and it’s growing more than a little annoying. But I have a brush pile to the west of the cabin that I need to remove (trees that once stood where the cabin now stands) since fire season is upon the Ozarks.

Look for a laugh or two on April Fool’s Day when the next Festival of the Trees is hosted by Vanessa over at Vanessa’s Trees and Shrubs Blog at About.com. Vanessa is looking for posts about “humorous trees” which is a broad category indeed. If you’ve written or come upon a post that sees trees from a humorous perspective, send it on to Vanessa. Her email address is treesandshrubs (dot) guide (at) about (dot) com. Be sure to put “Festival of the Trees” in the subject line so you’re not overlooked. The deadline for submissions is March 29, so don’t dither. Vanessa wants to use an image-based linkroll for this Festival, so send her a photo or other image with your link. You can read more about this at the Festival coordinating blog.

Speaking of About.com, if you’re not familiar with this great collection of experts and aficionados, you should head over there and do a little exploring. They claim to have 750 experts to help you with nearly anything that interests you. Aliens? They have it covered. Petite Fashion? Sure. Physics? Of course. Kosher food? Yes. Soap making? Indeed. And plenty more.

You good folks have made nearly 10,000 comments to posts on this humble blog over the years.

Missouri calendar:

• Daylight-saving time begins.
• Wild turkey courtship gobbling through early May.
• Elms begin blooming.

On Friday, March 5, we had a long drive ahead of us to get from Kansas City to Paducah, but we did make one stop along the way that wasn’t absolutely essential, though in another sense, it really was.

Deep in the Ozarks of Missouri is Big Spring, believed by some to be the largest spring in the world, though it is hard to gauge its flow for several technical reasons. Regardless, the spring continues to grow, and some day it will earn that title without dispute.

Many years ago Libby and I made a more or less random tour of the Ozarks, and we stayed a night in one of the cabins at Big Spring maintained by the National Parks Service. It was rustic, and Libby was awake all night hearing wild animals crunching in the leaves outside our cabin’s screened windows. (In the morning we saw a small fawn giving us a beseeching look for some grub.)

We’d had a dry week before our recent visit, so I don’t think the flow from the spring is as strong as it can be. Even so, it was impressive.

(By the way, the photo in Wednesday’s post was taken from inside the small cave at the base of the spring.)

Happy Birthday, Crusher!

Missouri calendar:

• Spicebush blooms through mid-April.
• Watch for the fiddleheads of ferns.

The last lingering leaves of the oaks in our forest couldn’t hide the big blue sky we had over us when we were last out to our woods. Like everyone else, I’m tired of the unrelenting gray skies we’ve been suffering this winter, and for a couple of hours we got to enjoy some blue instead.

The band of clouds you see, however, soon completed its conquest of the sky, and by mid day we were shrouded once again.

Tomorrow: A Saturday Matinee Double Feature!

Missouri calendar:

• Greater prairie chickens “booming” through mid-April.

These are the sandstone steps leading to the porch on the front of the Cabin at the End of the Road. They are still in their “potential” state, which is to say they are still deep in the woods, not very close to the cabin.

That slab on the top left is easily two feet thick, and it’s about four feet long (though you can’t really tell from the angle of the photo). The one at three o’clock is about the same size, and too much of the one in the foreground is buried by the leaf litter to allow me to guess its general dimension.

Good Neighbor Brian now has his bobcat over in his storage building. Some day when we’re both down there, I intend to sweet talk him into using it to carry these slabs from the top of the road down the hill to where the cabin awaits them. It will be a thing of beauty!

Of course, the critter who lives under these slabs may have other ideas about their best use. I’m hoping it’s not a skunk. Maybe a little work with the game camera first might be prudent.

Missouri calendar:

• Male red-winged blackbirds arrive and set up territories.

The weather in Missouri was just about perfect last weekend for walking in the woods. We didn’t. Instead we drove to Kentucky to help my mother celebrate her birthday. I took the day off of work on Friday so we could have a longer weekend, and we were on the road by 6:30 a.m. Good thing, too, since we had a nine-hour drive ahead of us.

A sensible person might have taken the seven-hour route from Kansas City to Paducah, but I think I’ve proven here sufficiently that I am not always a sensible person. The “sensible” route is to go directly east on I-70 for four hours to St. Louis and then along a succession of highways down southern Illinois for three hours. But I’ve driven that St. Louis run far too many times, and it bores me every time. Plus about half of the Illinois miles are nothing but tedious, flat farmland from horizon to horizon.

Instead we took the route across southern Missouri, driving three hours south to Springfield, passing, it must be noted, within six miles of Roundrock but not stopping since we had many hours ahead of us and a scheduled appointment to surprise my mother that evening. From Springfield we headed more or less east on Highway 60, which took us all the way to Paducah. This took us through the heart of the Missouri Ozarks, but we only diverted one time (resulting in the photo above, which I’ll tell you more about — with video — on Saturday) since we had that whole appointment thing looming before us. We crossed the Mississippi River, spent about twenty seconds in Illinois (at the very southernmost tip), and then crossed the Ohio River and entered Kentucky, land of my idyllic boyhood summers. From there it was only about a half hour’s trek to Paducah, to find our bed and breakfast closed.

I don’t know if the whole town takes a nap, but just about everything was closed from 3:00 to 5:00 in the afternoon. Siesta? The B&B was in the two floors above a Mexican restaurant in the historic downtown. You can see a link to it here. (We had the entire second floor.) The restaurant was closed, and we couldn’t find any wifi for me to get online to get the number to call. We could have poked around (the mostly closed) downtown for another hour, but we decided instead to call my aunt and get the surprise underway.

At her condo my mother was sitting at her computer, sorting out some insurance business. I was able to walk up behind her and gently suggest some solutions to her onscreen difficulties. She leapt from her chair and gave me a big hug and kiss. She was quite surprise and pleased. We sat and visited for a while, and then my aunt announced that a friend of theirs was having an art opening at a gallery in the old downtown area. She said that usually these things had free food, so we might be able to snag some free dinner that way. By happy coincidence, the gallery was in the side room of the very Mexican restaurant where our B&B was.

We went there, did, indeed, snag some free food, ordered some drinks (Margarita’s for them, brandy for me — won’t do that again!), admired the art, and eventually got around to checking in to our nice weekend apartment. What a sumptuous place it was! We had two bedrooms, a large sitting room, a very up-to-date bathroom, a huge kitchen (the first B&B I’ve been to that stocked Jim Beam for its guests), and even our own steaming hot tub on the second floor deck. The group of us sat around in this lovely space (everything was top of the line) and marveled at what we were getting for such a low price. (It really was astonishingly cheap compared to every other B&B we’ve ever stayed in, which numbers close to twenty. An anonymous room in a chain hotel by the freeway would not have been less expensive.)

The next day, after a sensible breakfast of oatmeal, yogurt, and dry toast, we visited the National Quilt Museum for which the town is gaining international recognition. Quilting, I’ve come to learn, is an art form, calling for as much craft and skill as every other type of creative expression. Let me just say this, if you ever find yourself within 100 miles of Paducah, Kentucky, change your plans and steer yourself to see this museum. The work is astonishing.

It was also handy for keeping my mother distracted while part two of her surprise weekend was organized. My brother, his wife, and their two boys, arrived from rural Missouri to surprise her as well as she walked out of the museum. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, there were smiles all around, and I was handing out gold dollars to my nephews.

The boys, being boys, needed to be fed, so we jumped into our cars and drove to a Thai/Asian restaurant. My two little nephews (ages 7 and 2) have done more international traveling than I, so a Thai lunch was not a problem for them. I had a noodle arrangement with chicken, but I also had my first seaweed salad ever. (I had thought that I might have eaten seaweed before, but I’m sure I would have remembered given the haste the salad made to get through my digestive system.)

After lunch the boys just happened to spy an indoor playground a few doors down from the restaurant, and we spent the remainder of the afternoon there as they frolicked about the jumping stations, the climbing stations, the yelling and hollering stations, and the arcade games. I think Grandma enjoyed her birthday there nonetheless.

When we thought the boys had had enuf fun, we packed ourselves in the cars and drove back to my mother’s place where — surprise! — cakes and presents were waiting. Thus we spent the evening visiting and nibbling.

Knowing we had a long drive ahead of us, we said good-bye to everyone and excused ourselves at about 8:00 p.m. to return to our B&B. We fell into our king-sized bed and were lulled to sleep by the barges on the Ohio River two blocks away, coupling with loud clangs.

By 6:00 a.m. we were back on the road home, reversing the order of our trek, but still spending only about twenty seconds in Illinois. On the last leg we passed, it must be said, within six miles of Roundrock, but we did not detour to visit. When we got home late that afternoon, having been in four states by then, Flike and Queequeg were overjoyed to see us. (They were in the loving care of #2 Son while we were away.) We took them for a walk around the neighborhood and then began unpacking our things to return to our mundane lives.

No, I didn’t get to visit any of the old boyhood haunts: my grandparents’ farm, the lake, the many tourist traps that had so fascinated me as a kid, the town of Benton where I practically grew up it seemed. But those remain allures to bring me back.

Missouri calendar:

• American woodcocks begin courtship in northern Missouri; at dusk, listen for “peenting” in brushy fields.

One of the reasons I’m now keeping the cabin locked is because we’ve begun decorating it. As you see above, I’ve hung some plant identification posters on the walls of the cabin. Homey touch, don’t you think?

The one on the left is self explanatory, but the one on the right is reproduced too small here to figure out. It’s common wildflowers; I wish I saw that many out in my woods and fields! The trouble with these kinds of guides is that they don’t tell you the identity of the specimens they don’t list. I pretty much already know all of the trees that are identified in the left poster. It’s the ones not there that have me perplexed. Sure, I have plenty of guide books, and they’ll probably migrate out to the cabin in the coming months as well.

Our decorating and furnishing efforts are moving slowly though. We achieved such a fine look in this corner of the cabin that we don’t want to rush in with anything less fabulous.

Missouri calendar:

• Time for ticks to appear.
• Field sparrows are arriving.

This is what the fire ring looked like when we arrived at Roundrock last weekend. Well used and a bit weary. It has been my intention every weekend this year to dismantle this fire ring and set it off to the site for the time being, but since I had only been out to the woods one weekend this year, my intentions remained only intentions.

I want to dismantle it so that the man who will fix my dam and road can spread gravel in the area to make it more level. There are plenty of hidden rocks and holes in that leaf litter, and the ground slopes just enuf that you can’t sit easily in a comfy chair without falling out of it (to the front, back, or side). So the ground is due for a makeover. But before that could happen, I wanted to disassemble the ring and set it aside. The road man said he could do it for me, but I knew that the bricks were fragile — we broke two just putting out our last fire — and I wanted to preserve them as best as I could.

(BTW, that green swath you see running across the top of the photo above is the lake. And that’s Flike you see in the top right corner, heading toward the cabin. Good boy!)

This is what the fire ring looked like when we left Roundrock last weekend:

Libby and I made quick work of disassembling the fire ring. Some of the blocks were frozen together, but a little nudging separated them. We were careful, but even so, we managed to break three more in the process. The thin ones were the ones that broke, and we simply added their pieces to the rubble we’re collecting along the east side of the cabin where we will have some gravel spread to make it more level as well.

Once the gravel work on the road and around this campfire area is completed, I intend to rebuild the fire ring in about the three o’clock position in the photo immediately above. That will put it about in the center of a graveled area so it will be better separated from the trees and the leaf litter.

Then it will be time to make S’mores.

(BTW, that’s the tail end of the Prolechariot you see in the top of the picture immediately above. And I’m pretty sure that’s a bag of peanuts, unsalted, of course, sitting on the open tailgate. For the crows, of course.)

Missouri calendar:

• Bluebirds begin nesting.

We’ve slowly begun furnishing the Cabin at the End of the Road. The map and the chunk of colored glass sit on a small, round drop-leaf table in one end of the cabin. The map is of Roundrock, of course; the Central Valley is evident, and the dark straight lines show the existing fence. There at the top is where the fence only reaches across half of my southern property line. The chunk of glass is there just to look nice in the sun. I intend to sit at this table and think thoughtful thoughts. (By the way, I’ve begun locking the cabin when I leave.)

The latest edition of the Festival of the Trees is up over at The Voltage Gate. If you haven’t been by, be sure to head over there and check out all of the fascinating links. After all these years, the Festival continues to collect fresh and interesting posts about trees in all their forms.

The next edition will be hosted by Vanessa’s Trees and Shrubs Blog, part of the About.com universe. By amazing coincidence, her edition will appear on April Fool’s Day. Vanessa is contemplating a theme of “humorous trees” in honor of the holiday. Her deadline for submissions is March 29. Send your links to treesandshrubs (dot) guide (at) about (dot) com. It’s always best to put Festival of the Trees in the subject line. (I’ve already sent her one.)

If you’re looking for a way to spend even more time surfing the internet, you should go to the Meet Up page and search for groups in your neighborhood. I’ve put my ZIP code in the search function and found several dozen pages of groups of all interests and descriptions that meet regularly in my area. So far I haven’t found one I’m dying to get involved with, but I like to keep my options open.

We’ve had more than a week of dry, relatively warm weather here and down at Roundrock (if the weather reports can be credited). The man who will fix my dam and road said he needed the ground to get dry so he could bring in his big equipment. It looks like the work might commence soon (and perhaps already).

Since I know you’re just dying with curiosity, let me tell you that I am currently reading The Good Apprentice by Iris Murdoch. I’ve been reading her novels in order, grabbing the next one every few months, and I’m down to the last half dozen. I’ve told myself I’ll simply start reading them again from the beginning when I’m finished, but maybe I’ll check out some writer I’ve never tried and commit to his or her complete works.

My 100 plants from the Missouri Department of Conservation are scheduled to arrive next month. If I remember correctly, they were several weeks late last year. I’d like to get them in the ground while they can still benefit from the spring rains.

Missouri calendar:

• Eastern cottontail rabbits bear first litters this week.
• Bald eagles begin incubation.

During our hike in the woods I saw this little story laid out on the ground. Sometime in the winter this old oak was topped by a storm or ice and came down to the forest floor. I’m glad I wasn’t beneath it when it fell, but I would like to have been nearby to hear it.

The crunching noise you do hear is from Flike poking about in the leaf litter.

Notice also the sky above the tree. When we arrived in the woods we had a perfect vault of blue over our heads. As the day progressed, though, the gray, scudding clouds converged and ended that brief bit of beauty.

Missouri calendar:

• Wild onion and garlic are greening in pastures, woods.