November adventures

Country Notebook

By Rogene "Jeannie" McPherson

Journal columnist

Only a few days into November, I have already had a good time scouting the fields, flora, and forest for crown jewels. A drive within a ten mile radius of my home may not even be considered a sight-seeing journey, but like most things in life it’s what we make of the experience. Plus, a crown jewel is, by my definition, not the Webster Dictionary’s, it’s an experience reminiscence of a special time.

A couple of weeks ago, my sister, two cousins and I took an overnight trip to St. Joseph, Missouri. The significance of this location was its relatively equal distance for all of us – and a wonderful German restaurant called the Cabbage Roll – in honor of our heritage. I was not aware of the rich architectural history of St. Joe with mansions for street blocks near the Missouri River.

The one we stayed in is called the Vineyard Mansion complete with period decorating and gardens and a black cat. The cat didn’t seem to have a specified location for its home but its frequent running around the neighborhood convinced us of his importance to the mansions. His shiny black coat and sneaky attitude was a little eerie considering Halloween was just a week away. I particularly kept my eye on his travels as I was not wanting him to cross in front of my path. Just kidding.

Upon returning to the Centerville area, I saw a similar black cat making his way along the railroad crossing in Centerville. Instead of crossing the road, he jumped into the ditch away from me. When the large feedlot sprung up two miles east of Centerville, I began spotting a black cat running around the round bales of hay. His increasing size was a clue to how many mice and other rodents lived around the feedlot.

Recently, I saw a black cat on the banks of a sorghum field across from the feedlot, consuming his dinner. I have no way of knowing it is the same cat, but if I were a betting person, I’d bet it is.  He is apparently smart enough to avoid crossing the road when the semi-size feed and cattle transports travel along 1350 Road. No flat black cats have been observed.

My father adamantly hated cats. At my five year old birthday party, one of the boys started teasing the cats and one bit him. Long story short, Dad said there would never be a cat on the farm again, black, white, or purple as the young man had to suffer through the rabies injections. 

My father had little fear of anything, except black cats. Whether he had a bad experience as a child, I don’t know. But I do know he would turn around in the road before crossing the path of a black cat. Other superstitions, like walking under a ladder, did not seem to bother him.  

Holding on to superstitions is not my thing.  I think of my Dad often, but seeing a black cat only makes me smile a little wider. It’s only a little spooky seeing black cats during the season of bats, spiders, witches, and ghosts. 

Now that Halloween is over, I look forward to Thanksgiving memories, like this week’s adventure with a flock of turkeys.  About ten walked across the road in front of me, becoming a crown jewel or a diamond in the rough in my repertoire of November memories. Good thing I don’t know how to shoot.

Rogene “Jeannie” McPherson, from the Centerville area, is a regular contributor to the Linn County Journal. Her latest book Posts from the Country, Adventures in Rural Living is available online at Amazon.com, Thriftbooks.com, and Barnesandnoble.com.