Nov. 7, ’09-It’s late morning and sunshine shimmy dances across Big Bend. Harvest winds rustle the withering corn. The corn has lost it’s courage and it’s cracking off in the brazen breeze. Clear blue sky highlights the scenery. Noise from River Road and Highway 95 reverberates in my ears. My eyes track up-ward and helicopter leaves hang on, not ready to hover to earth. Bang Bang! Must be rabbit hunters on neighbor’s land. Train sounds carry easily from the town of Arcadia. Autumn has leeched the life out of summer weeds and grasses. Cattle trails are drying with deep hoof grooves tromped on them. Cracked sticks litter the trail. Sun shines on my eyelashes and nature looks so sparkly. Bright red bugs, gnats, Box Elder Bugs and Asian Beetles patrol the backwaters. Bang again! A crow is up-set  caw-ing a call to the world. Shrinking puddles of swamp water reflect the perfect sky. Serenity sweeps out the rest of the world, as I set a spell on fallen trees by Big Bend. I cast my gaze up-stream and search for movement along the Trempealeau River. I’m a no-mind and it’s a grand thing to be. Eckhart Tolle promotes being a no-mind. Letting all pervasive thoughts and mental chatter flow in and out easily.  I cast my mental fish pole into the river. I imagine the line drifting down to Louisiana  and loiter in the artful act of letting go. Whitetail deer are in love and are running with their prosepctive mates.  Tom has been seeing them daily when he takes a  round bale that he and Hawken baled, out to the beef cattle herd. Hawken enjoyed packing snacks and helping Tom round bale. The baler plugged up with the wet hay and they got out to make repairs to it. Hawken stood proudly in the hayfield and said, “Pops, I’m a grease monkey!”  The too wet bales get  hauled to be fed immediately so no mold develops on them.  Back @ the farm, I dance Scarey the Autumnal decoration that lost his stuffing and hat in the brisk wind. I stuff him in the back of the Cavalier and debate if he should be stored or pitched @ Clean Sweep. I notice black and white out of the corner of my left eye. I stare and inhale quickly. I’m sure it’s dead and I imagine our friend Greg Repinski has dropped off Pepe the skunk to prove to me that he can catch one  and not get sprayed. I brought this on myself @ the August Open House. I met Greg in the Shack and he was soft spoken with clear eyes. I’ve learned so much since that day. He calmly told of catching skunk by walking up to them in a live trap. But..had to talk to them and never lose eye contact with them. Then throw a blanket over the skunk in the cage. Haul it to a creek and lower it in and drown it. Then it won’t spray it’s pungent odor. I stared @ Greg, then @ Tom and in front of Greg said, “Tom, is he a straight talker?” Typically, in a few words I just know. Greg was  sincere Tom re-assured me. Something clicked and now Greg smiled and took it as his personal challenge to present us with a skunk with it’s essence in it. Over the next 2 months, I caught little blurps that he was feeling concerned that  he wanted to prove to us he could do it  and now he wasn’t catching a skunk when he wanted to!  I went to the house and called Greg and he assured me that he had gifted it to us so Tom could extract the skunk essence out of it. So the gentle bantering started between Tom and I. Jokes were made about where the procedure should be performed and all the details had to be thought through. Tom brought Hawken in house and set to gathering the harvesting supplies. The following details were presented to Hawken and I and no elaboration is woven in this saga. Tom took Pepe the love skunk out in the cattle pasture below the Shack. He affixed a headlamp we sell on his head. He found a tree and tied the already dead skunk with twinestring by the back foot. He offered a rag shirt to the essence gods and gloved with large Shamrock latex gloves. He splurged and took out a new surgery scalpel.  He carefully made incisions with Dr. precision down the left leg of the black and white critter. Then a light carving down the right leg. He daintily proceeded to skin a skunk successfully.  At this point, he was so thankful for the pelt, he thought it best to stow it on a far off spot, in the event his extraction stunk. He un-capped a 60cc vet world syringe and a 16 gauge needle. The skunk essence glands protruded in the fading sunlight. The headlamp illuminated the plump nectar. He withdrew first off the left side and then on the right. One and a half ounces of essence was captured by the skunk master. He found there to be mild odor when expelling the liquid into an empty Vit. B bottle. He used Skunk Off spray on his hands prior to coming to tell the story. This product we sell and have had great reviews from customers with dogs that have been sprayed. I do not detect even the slightest hint of Pepe the Love Skunk essence on Tom.  The  pelt is drying outside of the Shack on a nail.  The boys finished wrapping the tree trunks in the orchard and set a spell on the swing looking down @ Apple Alley. Birch Tree gave away her last dance to the wind as her naked branches swayed in the waning light.

Dance Free,

Sue Roskos