The Lady of the Hollow kindly built the first fire of fall in the stove this evening.
First Fire of the Season
Category Archives: Hollow News
Eternal Slumber
Today would have been Lola Weems’ 97th birthday. She is buried in the Eureka Springs Cemetery
Sighting of the Annual Tarantula
Half an hour ago, I was driving along the paved county road and saw my annual tarantula. Seemingly since the dawn of time, I have seen exactly one tarantula per year crossing Rocky Top Road. It is a tradition that I enjoy and uphold.
Obviously, me saying “since the dawn of time” is hyperbolic, an exaggeration to make a point, but the first tarantula I ever saw on a then unpaved Rocky Top Road was during the fall of 1982. I was a passenger in Jack McCall’s Ford pickup and he didn’t even slow down so I didn’t get a good look at it. I do remember what Grandpa said though. He said he didn’t mind tarantulas, but he didn’t like the big jumping spiders. He said one once jumped onto the neck of his horse and he was thrown. I was with Grandpa that evening to assist him catching guineas on Frank Wolfinbarger’s farm. I believe I wrote a fictionalized account of this in Murder in the Ozarks. Hard to remember sometimes.
They Grow Up So Fast
Looking to the East
This was the view from the ridge road a few minutes ago looking over the Kings River to Berryville, Arkansas beyond. The photo is courtesy of the neighborhood maintenance man who works nights.
Like a Razorback Hog
You know it’s a hot one when Shrek engages in mud baths.
Shrekford Files V
Always on the job, our fat yellow detective caught this young lady at the bird feeder late last night.
Summer is Coming
I never could take the heat well and every year is more difficult. I’ve worked outside today, but keep retreating into the air conditioning. The temperature at the moment is 88F (31C) and just humid enough to hamper my breathing. Meanwhile, if I climbed the highest ridge and looked eastward across the seas to Wemyss, Scotland, I would see that the temperature is a mere 48F (9C). That’s mowing weather to me, though I’d have to rig up the lights on the tractor because it’s already dark there, the sun having set at 955pm.
Shrekford Files IV
The Lady of the Hollow mentioned that the clothes dryer was taking twice as long to dry as normal. Never one to dawdle, the fat yellow dog was on the case. Turns out the exterior dryer exhaust vent was packed full of twigs. The conglomeration was carefully extracted and sent down to the boys at the lab.
Detailed analysis was performed and the discovery of pretty little eggs inside led Shrek to suspect a bird was involved.
Window Sitting
Looked over at the barn today and saw these two enjoying the afternoon view. First time all spring that I’ve seen two baby buzzards in the window. They appear to be of different sizes, so I don’t know what that means.
Shrekford Files III
If you know the Keeper of the Hollow, you know that he rarely moves along in any gear but first. His father once warned him that if he worked any slower he’d start going backwards. And so the preparations for the summer heat moved at a sloth’s comfortable pace. The nice lady on the ridge donated an old air conditioner to make the hollow workshop more hospitable for the inevitable seasonal temperatures to come.
A window location was decided upon and the unit placed there. The next morning, it was apparent that the air conditioner had not been adequately secured.
The Keeper of the Hollow and his fat yellow detective exchanged a puzzled look and the investigation began. Outside, Shrek noticed three plastic wrapped Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies in the tall weeds.
The Keeper of the Hollow and the yellow detective experienced simultaneous slow-motion epiphanies (this happens often). They raced (walked leisurely) around to the entrance of the workshop and looked on the workbench. The box of Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies placed there the day previous were gone. Their entire year’s supply of emergency rations stolen! Returning to the evidence in the tall weeds, a more thorough examination of the site was conducted. As seen in the photograph, the torn end flap of a Little Debbie box was found. An empty clear plastic wrapper was then found at the bottom of a woven wire fence. The burglars had apparently stopped for sustenance before climbing the fence and disappearing into the forest across the spring creek. The box has yet to be found.
While deeply mourning the loss of the oatmeal pies, work continued and the air conditioner was framed in with wood to be more secure. Clear plastic was used to cover the remainder of the window opening and allow testing of the newly acquired cooling unit.
The next morning the Keeper of the Hollow and the fat one again exchanged meaningful glances. Burgled again! This time the culprits had torn several holes in the clear plastic on the window to gain entry. At least the emergency rations had not yet been replaced.
“I need results, Shrek. I need hard evidence,” the Keeper of the Hollow mumbled as he searched for wire mesh with which to cover the window.
The fat yellow detective nodded though they both knew who the villains would be, they both knew who in the hollow especially loved Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies and operated with the precision of a military special operations team. Yes, it was the raccoons again. Not satisfied with night raids on the bird feeder, their activities were escalating and they wouldn’t be stopped until there was enough evidence from the crime lab for an arrest, trial and conviction. In the meantime, the wire mesh would have to hold strong.
The Good Soldier
For a couple of decades I had dogs of significant stature. Shrek isn’t exactly small, but he’s a hundred pounds less than Frost and half the size of Chandler and the beautiful Bronte. Shrek guards us the best he can, and takes his watchdog duties seriously. I have no doubt Chandler was capable of bringing down a man, afterall that’s what bullmastiffs were bred for. Bronte weighed 110 pounds and had amazing speed. It’s a long story but I watched her catch a full grown doe by the throat and slam her head into the ground. Frost could be stressful to have on staff because he was perfectly willing to maul any misbehaving visitors to the hollow. And yet, Shrek’s as loyal a dog as I’ve ever had. Here he’s clambered inside the Mountaineer and intently awaits orders.
