Edge of the Hollow

My latest creation...

2012-01-22T13:49:00.002-05:00

I took apart two old pillow cases and a purse to make this "new" swing bag. I have never created such a structured purse before, and I am very happy with the results. I didn't follow a pattern, I dreamt it up one day. Not that it is oh so, original, but it felt good to think up the construction method myself.

The fabric is from vintage Indian pieces patched together. The previous purse was just too baggy for me and I rarely used it.

I LOVE the fabric and thought I would create a more updated look with a vintage feel.

I love the beading, the variety, and the age of the pieces. I drew up the pattern in my design notebook (fancy), cut it out of brown paper, pieced it together with glue and tape, and did my modifications. I even did a pleated fold on the side panels. I felt like I was on Project Runway.

What fun.

My two girlfriends cheered me on via Skype

from distant shores and here it is....

I used a deep red liner with a magnetic closure, new for me. I also added a pocket for my glasses, one for my keys, cell phone, and a small skinny one for my pens.

Finishing up half done projects and dreaming up new ones?

What a way to start the new year!!

More to come....

Peace.

A month later - Hoping for a Winter Harvest

2011-11-13T19:21:00.003-05:00

The high tunnel has been planted for the winter garden. My son and I did some soil tests before we planted and recorded our data. Once we harvest we will test again. We found some old French doors at a salvage place for $5 each and the old wooden trimmed sliding glass, double-paned door for free at the dump. We don't lose too much light on that side of the tunnel. This is a view of the western exposure. The rolled up side is south facing.

Looking west from the eastern door. In the fore ground, center row you can see the Tatsoi, next the Chinese Cabbage, parsley, leeks, and finally our onion sets.

Our young farmer.

The Chinese Cabbage, or Wong Bok, is doing great. Everything has been getting thinned and replanted. We have had a pretty warm November.

My son and I filled the barrels with water to hopefully increase humidity and increase heat at night. ? We are planning on getting some thermometers to monitor temperature variation.

He likes to come up with ideas to test, a scientist in the making!

Salad greens, Claytonia, Parsley, Easter Egg Radish... I have also planted Bok Choy, Bull's Blood Beets, Feldsalat or Mache, Mustard Greens, Daikon Radish, tons of varieties of spinach, Choy Pac, and transplanted Kale and Chard from the garden. I still have Celeriac growing too.

We still have to cover the crops with a secondary row cover, but that won't be until next month. Tune in for more later... but meanwhile,

our salad greens in all of their crisp, autumn yumminess....

We are grateful and happy.

Two entire seasons have passed....

2011-10-09T18:46:00.007-04:00

So much has happened, so much has changed.

One of our new projects was our high tunnel.

We built it to extend our growing season here in zone 5A,

and to grow winter greens.

We toured as many local hoop houses as we could find in our quest to learn,

and we read every book we could find.

Eliot Coleman's books were our major inspiration...

The first year was filled with lessons.

I planted the house full of tomatoes, various peppers, summer squash, tomatillo's, watermelon, cantaloupe, and pickling cucumbers.

We pickled so many cucumbers. The tomatoes over grew everything, and we are still getting hot and sweet peppers in October, not to mention the best watermelons I have had since I was kid. They just don't grow these melons for market anymore.

What a delight.

This summer was hot, humid, and rainy...

unusual for our climate here.

Most of our best food came from the house. I think if it hadn't been for our hoop house I would have been extremely disappointed with a lot of our food production this year. The heavy spring rains caused moldy strawberries, lots of summer rain led to bouts of late blight on the tomatoes and potatoes in the field...

and then there were the deer, my poor pea crop disappeared.

We have had a few hard frosts already. All of the remaining Brassica are doing great in the field. In the hoop house, all is well. The cantaloupe and cucumbers are wilted but the peppers and tomatoes are doing fine, and still producing.

Early on in the season we tied up all of the vining plants. It worked out great. Next year I will prune back the tomatoes and grow fewer of them! I am still making my roasted tomato sauce now... I have been making it for over 4 weeks. I didn't get many tomatoes in the field at all this year and it seemed to take them so long to ripen. My window sill is full of green field tomatoes.

My sister-in-law turned me on to a great recipe.

I roast sliced, whole tomatoes (skin, seeds, and all) with garlic, olive oil, salt, and pepper in a 425 degree oven for about 35 minutes. I drain some of the water from the tomatoes and let them cool. Freeze them flat, put them into a freezer bag, and store them in a stack in the freezer. I add other ingredients like basil or peppers too.

Very delicious and always so yummy in January.

I hope your summer was wonderful and

healthy!

Women for Women

2011-04-01T12:34:00.003-04:00

A simple little thing like having an amount equivalent to $1 day taken out of your credit card account can help turn another woman and her family's life around.

Imagine living in a war torn country, caring for your children, trying to run a household while the infrastructure is in ruins, and all you dream about is changing the course of your life.... where do you turn? Women for Women International creates a vehicle for you to directly affect the life of an individual, one distinct woman, your sister. You can literally reach across the planet and give her a hand, a shoulder to lean on, a heart that cares for her, and change the course of her life. It feels impossible to leave your home and go to Bosnia & Herzegovin, Sudan, Rwanda, Afghanistan, Iraq, Nigeria, Kosovo, or the Democratic Republic of the Congo, but you can, you can help by enabling other strong women around the world to help them by funding their work in these remote countries where women need us more than ever. It costs as much as one dinner out in a restaurant.... the equivalent of one dinner and you could change the course of an entire family's life! We have the power.

I often find myself feeling overwhelmed with my responsibilities at home and my work, and then I think what it must be like to live in a country that has been destroyed by war. It can take generations to overcome the trauma and financial loss. My mother was raised in Munich during the war and even now at 72 years old she is still haunted by the memories of war, hunger, loss, death, destruction, and fear.

We can help change that future for other women right now, without leaving our homes. You can sponsor a sister in war torn countries through Women to Women. When you do they send you a packet with her picture, her story, her background, and pictures of her children. You write to each other, share your stories from across the world. It is very personal and I have to say that it feels so good to be a part of her story. When she "graduates" from the year long program Women for Women International sends you the update of her journey. They make it such an easy thing to do, and yet it is such a huge thing to share! Go to their website...

http://www.womenforwomen.org/

What is Sponsorship?

Our sponsorship program supports women survivors of war and conflicts as they progress through a one-year program that helps them rebuild their lives.

Your sponsorship funds are used to help women receive job-skills training, business and money management basics and rights awareness education.

A woman cannot be enrolled in the WfWI program until she has a sponsor; so a sponsor's influence on her life could not be more important.

A Financial Lifeline to a Woman Survivor of War

After an initial enrollment fee of $30, we ask sponsors to make monthly, tax-deductible donations of $27. The money your sponsored sister receives provides her with a stipend that she can use as she chooses; to pay for basic necessities such as food and shelter, cover school fees or invest in income-generating activities.

A survey of WfWI participants showed that funds went toward helping themselves, their children and their future.

25% of their funds went toward tuition for their children,
20% for clothing,
20% for savings,
20% for income-generation activities and
15% for food.

The remainder of your sponsorship donations supports the tools and resources a sister receives as she progresses through the program, such as job-skills trainers, equipment and other vital staff members.

Once your sponsored sister has completed her one-year program, you are automatically matched with a new sister in need of your help.

We'll Keep You Informed of Your Sister's Progress

You'll receive periodic updates on the status of your sister along with stories from other women survivors and sponsorship community. Many sponsors exchange letters with their sisters.

The letter-exchange component of the sponsorship program serves as a source of emotional support and encouragement to the women in WfWI programs. For many women, knowing that someone they have never met is interested in their life and future and willing to provide them support gives them motivation to complete the one-year program.

As a sponsor, you'll also receive:

A Welcome Kit that tells you everything you need to know about sponsorship;
A newsletter, with quarterly updates on our programs in the field;
A sponsor log-in account for a portal where you can obtain updates on your sister and send letters electronically.

A New Life Emerging.... Yes!

2011-03-29T17:21:00.005-04:00

Spring is coming.

We are still locked in the grips of a very cold March. Icy, little mud, not too much sunshine, and cold nights. The cold nights are good for maple sugaring but the cold days aren't helping the sap flow. Lots of people are having a good year though. My neighbor put these old school sap buckets on our trees. Yummy, sweet sap. I find it so amazing, the gifts given by these majestic trees. Drawing from the earth, sharing her sweetness. I love the sound of the sap dripping in the buckets, tip, tip, tip... I can hear it across the field.

We walked our land for hours yesterday. Look at all that snow, darn it. We found some lone moose tracks and followed them out onto the road. You can tell so much about an animal by following the tracks for a good distance. How fast they were walking, what they nibbled on, how many times they went this way or that. I wondered when the tracks were made? They weren't fresh and the snow has been melting a little every day. I think this beauty must be big, but I don't have a lot of experience with moose, so can't say for sure. The actual foot print was 7" plus around and the scat was big and there was a lot of it!

I have finally done it!

I just sent off my check for an amazing Permaculture Design Certification course co-sponsored by Prospect Rock Permaculture and Burlington Permaculture. I think taking the 30 Day Vegan Journey has really changed some fundamental things about the way I choose to live my life... One of them is giving myself the gift of just "doing it" and doing it for Me. This new way of letting my heart emerge is contagious. I am taking this course, not one weekend a month over a period of seven months, not a few weekends here and there, but for two whole weeks in Vermont! I will be staying on a sustainable farm! I am beyond excited, and the teachers are amazing!

I can't believe I am doing this. I wake up every morning so incredibly excited, it is like I am traveling to India or something. I have so many things to get ready, the seedlings need to get planted, the garden all done, the greenhouse completely set up, the animals situated, the babies off the heat lamps, all of the work done before June 18th... all of it. I feel like a kid on the last day of school about to embark on a wonderful summer adventure!

My New Life is Emerging, one of my own creation, for Me, for Us, designed by my heart, and fueled by a new bravery to just say Yes, what am I waiting for?

Yes!

Burlington Permaculture and Prospect Rock Permaculture are pleased to offer our fourth-annual early summer Permaculture Design Certification course. This year our course will be even further immersed in ecology and practice: held at Willow Crossing Farm- a regenerative organic family farm and now decade-old permaculture project on the beautiful Lamoille River and Vermont’s Long Trail.
The two week residential intensive course goes above and beyond the internationally recognized standard curriculum with focus on Social Justice, Food Security, Farm Design, Transition, Environmental and Outdoor Education, Natural Building, Horticulture Therapy, Community/ Commercial Scale Production and Propagation, Appropriate Farm Machinery and Tools, and visits to the vibrant farms, homesteads, nurseries, and ethical businesses that contribute to the resilient agricultural economy of northern Vermont.

Almost 100% of the food served during the course will come from the host site and immediately local farms visited during the course. With abundant opportunities to see, practice, and implement permaculture solutions at varying scales, thorough grounding in the process of design and first-hand study of ecology, and led by some of the most experienced designers, farmers, and educators in Vermont and the Northeast- this course affords opportunities for development and engagement in personal and community resilience like no other.

Hands-on Design and Co-Creation of Vibrant, Wholly Nourishing Human Landscapes:

Together, we’ll engage in whole-systems ecological design and implementation of permaculture solutions for a multi-use community garden specifically focused on the needs of food-insecure Vermonters. Learn alongside students, architects, activists, community planners, homesteaders, farmers, business owners, and others while engaging in real world design problems, and being immersed the wild and cultivated beauty of a permaculture site. Each student will also be guided in generating and presenting a design for a site of their own choosing.

Our approach explores the way human beings- as individuals and communities- can participate in the creation of ethical, socially just, and ecologically regenerative perennial support systems. We apply the sciences of Ecology, Anthropology, Ethnobiology, and Evolution to agriculture, the built environment, and social and economic organization (‘invisible structures’) by integrating plants, animals, buildings, people, communities, economies, and the landscapes that surround us through careful analysis and thoughtful design. We also practice permaculture ethics, principles, techniques, and skills by collaborating on real-world projects with an eye towards repairing, restoring, and regenerating human ecosystems.

We welcome graduates of other permaculture design courses to refresh their certification, gain new perspective and experience, build their networks, and advance their practice with the Advanced Permaculture Design and Teacher/ Facilitator Training opportunities available at this site and through this course.

Permaculture is a design science focused on the intersection of social and ecological health. We explore the relationships between the built environment, food security, energy, water, and natural communities, in order to retrofit this infrastructure to respond to the confluent crises of the 21st century with localized resilience, abundance, and ecological regeneration. Build your skills and capacity by taking part!

Our dynamic natural site in the midst of an agriculturally vibrant area affords ample opportunities to study and observe wild ecology, fruit, nut, vegetable, and medicinal herb production, natural/ alternative beekeeping poultry care, natural building, alternative energy, community-scale resilience, etc. In addition to all farm sourced food, immersion in wild ecology, radical sustainability, and the site offers us the opportunity to swim, hike, paddle, and camp in the beauty and inspiration of the early Vermont summer.

All farm sourced, local organic meals, travel to field trips, canoe and kayak use, and camping accommodation is included in the course cost of $1200. There are other lodging options available at additional cost. There are limited opportunities for professional development grants, work trade, scholarships, and other financial aid. Discounted registration for groups, couples, referrals, and travel to the course by boat, bike, foot, or other non motorized means, is available for early registrations. This course has historically filled quickly, please contact us to reserve your space as soon as possible.

As always, permaculture designers, activists, and alumni are welcome visit to present, review students designs, network, or just join us for a (very) local organic meal! Many sessions will be open and free to interested public.

Instructors and guests include: Keith Morris, Mark Krawczyk, Alissa White, Lisa DePiano, Andrew Faust, Skotty Kellogg, Starhawk, the Beehive Collective, and more!

http://prospectrockpermaculture.wordpress.com/2011-pdc/

In which we expand our joy of homeschooling....

2011-03-15T15:12:00.004-04:00

My lovely, patient, obliging, ever ready student loves, loves, loves to read.

As part of our Waldorf inspired homeschool journey he is reading through all of the volumes of The Library of Pioneering and Woodcraft by Ernest Thompson Seton. We just started Botany and he is so excited and teachable.

I wanted to share two of the goals from "Woodcraft is Lifecraft"...

4. The Great Central Fire.
Represented in our law, and in our ceremonies. Only the re-creation of the sacred fire has power to thrill us and strike chords of primitive remembrance. When people gather around a fire they shed all modern artifice and return to the essence of self, revealing the naked soul. Since time immemorial, humanity has seen in this blessed fire the means and emblem of light, warmth, protection, friendliness, and council. When people have met together in peace and shared the warmth of the welcoming fire, it forges a lasting bond of union overcoming wide divergence in attitudes and perspectives. This fire is the symbol at the center of Woodcraft. We shall not fail to use its magic powers.

8. An heroic ideal.

Woodcraft offers an heroic ideal, an image of a mature human being, physically strong, mentally alert, spiritually attuned, dedicated to community service. Anxious to learn, willing to teach, inspired by vision. Prepared to share with others, with courage, intelligence, power and wisdom. Cognizant of the past, unafraid of the future, profoundly aware that action is only possible in the present moment. Able to use this moment to the best advantage, equipped to listen, communicate and actively respond as needed. By presenting an heroic ideal Woodcraft gives each individual the inspiration to set and then strive towards personal goals. Woodcraft is dedicated to exploring knowledge, increasing tolerance through understanding, and improving global environmental conditions.

"Maturity, not scholarship is the first aim of education." Woodcrafters... Ernest Thompson Seton

Tell me, what could be better than that????

from http://www.etsetoninstitute.org/the-woodcraft-way/

Spring is right around the corner...

2011-03-14T20:51:00.004-04:00

Even if it snows again, that is o.k., the sun is back and it is getting stronger every day!

Still lovin' my vegan journey. I am so into food.

Made my old stand-by Yakisoba tonight, a la' my girlfriend Keiko.

Yum.

My herbal, strawberry patch spiral my husband made for me.

A view from last March.

I saw my new oncologist today. He is so nice, thorough, and attentive. I haven't seen an oncologist for two years so having a doctor that is following Me feels so reassuring. Over the last two weeks I have had a complete blood panel, a chest x-ray, an abdominal CT-scan (yikes), a brain MRI, total MRI scan of my spine, and hips. No cancer!!!! I do have arthritis in my spine and neck and stenosis, but that is nothing compared to bone cancer.

Yes, I'll take that, thank you...

Yoga, physical therapy, massage, well that sounds lovely.

No proton beam radiation, I am such a lucky girl.

Seeds I saved from plants I grew. On this tray, radish and oats.

And a Butternut seed from my neighbor Henry's tree.

We miss you Henry....

The first week of my 30 Day Vegan Journey

2011-03-13T18:16:00.004-04:00

Spring is right around the corner... These pictures were taken last March... We are so excited about the thought of the deep snow slowly melting to reveal the green energy waiting to emerge.

Mache and onions in the cold frame... winter treat.

My experiences from my first week on my vegan journey?

My energy and vitality were strong all week. I hit a wall on Saturday; tired, grumpy and feeling down. I realized how important it is to have something ready in the fridge. My digestion was irritating. My body shape was totally bloated and well, um, gassy... yikes, did I just type that? Surprisingly, the only thing I craved was cheese... who knew? I have never had a relationship with cheese before. We have a big block of locally made Goda cheese just tempting me... Oh, but that was my biggest challenge and I just crowded it out with avocados, my most nourishing food of the week... The most fun that I had was shopping for new (to me) ingredients with my son... My posture and breathing have been wonderful, practicing my yoga and Vipassana every day... a gift to the new day.

My greatest accomplishment was giving up tea with tons of sugar. No tea, no sugar. I didn't think I would dig that part, but I do, I have. Other thoughts include the fact that I didn't crave cookies or cake as much as I thought I would. I still gift myself small squares of wonderful chocolate, fruit and my homemade granola. Very satisfying. And my plan for next week is to walk 6 days a week and 3 of those days I want to walk for at least 45 minutes. I just bought new walking sneakers.... yay!

I just want to say thank you.

Thank you Heather for guiding me.

Thank you Me, for having the courage to do this....

Ducks in March... they love the mud.

Here's to the mud.

30 Day Vegan Journey

2011-03-10T16:10:00.004-05:00

I am happily taking the 30 Day Vegan journey with a group of other people from all around the country. Our guru Heather who pens one of my favorite blogs, Beauty That Moves is our wonderful guide and inspiration...

http://beautythatmoves.typepad.com/beauty_that_moves/

She shares delicious recipes and insights into living a more balanced life. I love the quotes, photos, and most of all, her encouragement to try new things in new ways. I love knowing there is a guiding hand leading the way and keeping it all together.

I just click on our nourishing blog and go.

One of the things I liked best about Heather's approach was to give us a running start. We started getting ideas a week before we actually started our new way of eating. One of her recommendations was to clean up and organize our cupboards. I loved the push.

We built this cupboard out of our old kitchen floor boards and an old door we found at an antique shop. It was originally designed to give us a way to hide our ugly plumbing but has turned into a wonderful "pantry". Sunday night before our first day my son and I made three big batches of granola. He made his, I made mine and we both made one for dad.

My son and I used vanilla, maple syrup and a little honey as our base with lots of cinnamon. We added almonds, walnuts, pecans, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, dried cherries, cranberries, raisins, papaya, pineapple, mango, and blueberries (coconut for me - dehydrated raspberries for him).

For dad we made it simple, vanilla and powdered ginger, almonds, dried blueberries, raisins and a tiny bit of diced candied ginger. When he got home from his trip he was so excited to have his own granola.

It has become my little snack instead of cookies or cake... crowding out the other stuff with a bowl of crunchy sunshine!

He is my other "pantry" in the laundry room. I love to keep my other grains, rice and stuff out here. Just feels old fashioned...

Part of our homeschool journey this week was the beginning of Botany!!! I sat up one evening to make this cross section of a flower out of thin sheets of bees wax, a daffodil to be exact. The following morning I drew the flower diagram on our chalkboard and we started talking about the journey of a flower and a bee. He drew a picture and we discussed the parts of the flower. I said, "Hmmmm? Wish we had a flower," and then I handed him this wax model. He was so happy, he yelled. Who knew he would get such a kick out of a flower? He told everyone that called that day about it and emphasized the fact that I "made" it for him. That was the greatest gift of all. It was a wonderful moment for me to see him so happy and so proud of me, WOW, the sweet little gifts of homeschooling.

Namaste

Peak Moment...

2011-02-25T16:03:00.003-05:00

One way to stay informed, inspired and educated about the changes we are facing in our world whether it is political, ecological or spiritual is to stay tuned to Peak Moment Television.

Their shows air on their website and on a some television stations in California, N. Carolina and New York City. Janaia and her team travel around the region interviewing people that choose to live more sustainably. Their shows are hopeful, uplifting and most of all, inspiring.

You can listen to the shows, download them, or watch the video. Some of the older shows are even available for purchase from their website too. There are well over 100 episodes on YouTube too for free. There are so many links about peak oil, and living more sustainably. There are great book reviews, interviews, and lots of discussions about options, real life options about things we CAN do to help

change the course of our future....

Some of the topics discussed are activism, agriculture, biofeuls, climate change, community, economy, farming, local food, natural building, peak oil, renewables, simple living, water, and many, many more.

Hear the voices, check it out, sign up, and support Peak Moment Television, it is

total grassroots...

http://www.wordpress.peakmoment.tv/conversations/

on YouTube too!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/user/peakmoment

To A Life Fully Lived. Cheers!

2011-01-29T16:17:00.006-05:00

I lost my neighbor and dear friend early this day. He was an inspiration and a joy to everyone that knew him. He always chose to walk on the sunny side of the street, smile at the day, breathe in each night and wave a hearty hello. He was born in Connecticut on May 25, 1914. So many things were happening then. The newness of a modern world just emerging, and with it good and bad, right and wrong. And he embodied what was the best of his era, an era that is slipping by. He was a man that loved the beauty of nature, devoted himself to his country, adored his wife and children, played the harmonica with all of his heart, put his back into his work and leaned into to his music. He loved his parents, his story, his life, and his neighbors. A tear of sorrow runs down my smudged and tired cheek as I type this. Up all night last night hoping beyond hope to see the sparkle of his eyes just once more…

….but alas,

in just a flicker of moment, he has become a memory.

That is how it happens, how life unfolds. Moments become memories and that is the beauty of living in the now, we can witness the force while it unfurls.

The tears I cry today are for myself; for my selfishness, for my missing him in this moment… different from the heartbreaking pain I still sob for my father who died almost a year ago next month. I think the difference is that I now know, in all honesty, that I sob for a life not lived by my father. The sadness of not following his heart, not being true to his truth, the realization of a life unfulfilled.

How can we find the courage to put aside all the should haves, could haves, supposed to's, to find our life force? To live our path? As children we declare we are going to be writers, doctors, artists, farmers and somehow we’ve lost our way… The answers our culture commands us to believe are empty promises of success and gain, when truly, if we listened to the answers in our hearts we would know that it lies in the promises we made to ourselves when we were young, when we were hopeful, when we were unburdened with gain…

The art of living is in the letting go to that promise made in a child’s heart.

We can’t blindly go along believing the stories. We have to be brave and strong. We have to turn against the answers that are given and instead follow our own truths. Find the passion, look into that heart of the child you left behind and ask yourself what songs do I want to sing? What pictures can I paint? What can I let go of to be free? How much do I really need to carry on this journey? If it could fit into a trunk what would I take?

And, where would my heart lead me? If we ignore that promise, we lose ourselves.

So, on this day I can smile for Henry, not sob in pain as I do for my father. I can rejoice in Henry’s choice to live his life fully. His choice to be brave. His choice to define his journey on his own terms. He was true to his heart even within the confines of his responsibilities, his routine, his station in life. He defined his life, his art of living, not for gain but in peace.

So here is to Life Fully Lived...

may it be the path we chose to follow.

Evening Chores

2010-11-01T17:31:00.007-04:00

I just love evening chores, especially now when it is cold and all of my peeps are confined and without grass. When the back door slams shut and I walk out singing and they hear me. The turkeys are the closest and they start squabbling, the chickens hear them and start cackling, the ducks sing their song and the geese honk loudly.

They eagerly wait for me, ears or eyes up, and smiling their little animal smiles... Dinner.

Bunny often hops towards me, nose wiggling, hoping for a carrot or piece of apple and some kale. All of the fresh summer/autumn goodies are almost gone. It was 30 degrees F last night.

Those little turkeys aren't so little anymore. We kept two. She is so curious and always hoping for kale or broccoli leaves...

And the girls? They know when it is time to go to the barn. They hear the buckets and hear me sing and come to the gate hoping for food.

Our Aracaunas are our newest and youngest flock. No eggs yet, but lots of pretty feathers and happy personalities.

The original flock. They head in on their own around 4:00 these days. The sun is setting so much earlier now. They go in to eat and get ready to roost.

Our three ducks. As the evening draws in and I walk out they turn and run to their house, eager, hungry and cold.

And finally, my two wonderful geese, Toulouse and Flory. They still think I am their mom so they go pretty easily as I herd them far across the yard back to their little house next to the turkeys. They honk, but go willingly.

Yes, I love this time of the day.

I never regret my chores. I really enjoy seeing all of my friends, singing to them, feeding them, and tucking them in for the night. It makes my heart feel so full, so right with the world when they are warm, well fed and content. I have done my job as their protector and partner.

The simple things in life give us so much joy.

Life is good.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T12:06:00.006-04:00

We found these bells at a little shop south of here. Just imagine the wall or gate to which these bells were attached? Who pulled its handles? I imagine a great moss covered brick gate entrance to a church somewhere here in New England... what story speaks to you?

They happily hang on our clapboard siding outside of kitchen entrance...

I let all of the animals into the garden this week. Clean up and fertilize. The geese pose in the bed of garlic.

We have started to put the garden to bed. First a heavy layer of already composted manure mix and then leaves, lots of lovely leaves... Since we were gone for almost two weeks we are way behind and winter feels like it has arrived today... cold, dark and rainy...

I love to put ginger in our green drink and since we are trying to grow everything that is in our green drink I thought I would try my hand at ginger too. I planted the root in late July and it is taking off. The leaves are very soft and smell like ginger. It is such a wonderful plant to grow in the house. I plan on planting lots more and once our greenhouse is up there will be plenty of green drink to go around.

We have been talking and reading "When French Women Cook", I love reading Madeleine Kamman's book. It is a story of life, of women, of delicious food with wonderful recipes from the women in her life. That has been the source of my inspiration in life lately,

The Women In My Life...

no wonder I am attracted to this book.

See the sprouts? Just put the root into good soil, lots of sun and a bit of water. I picked a very plump, buddy looking root. I have the pot in a pan of rocks and water too, for humidity. It seems to be working, and the smell, oh, lovely.

My girlfriend gave me this recipe for a raw green drink that is a meal...

A bit of garlic, a bit of ginger, a few apple pieces, a carrot, a bit of celery, any greens and lots of them, a splash of apple juice, a dash of cayenne pepper blended in a good blender, strained and voile' dinner, with some almonds for crunch on the side.

Danke Jenny.

Well, I am off to clean my studio. I hope you have a happy Halloween! Boo!

Remembrance of Things Past

2010-10-25T20:17:00.002-04:00

A view from my friend's window. She shared her home with us for ten days... ten lovely days.

Birds in the rain...

Bunny on a plane....

Our roommate, Monet.

Amazing!

"The more I think about it,

the more I realize, there is nothing

more artistic than to love others".

Vincent van Gogh

Thank you to all of my San Diego family of friends for a lovely birthday and wonderful holiday I will never forget your beauty and generosity...

Love.

A new season...

2010-10-10T18:57:00.002-04:00

A self-portrait from four years ago when my little boy was only 6!

I had a big medical scare at the end of September. My life was once again clearly brought into focus. My love, my energy, my fear, my joie de vivre. Every breath is such a wonderful gift... It is all just a heart beat away, moment to moment. I definitely have MS, new lesions, but no loss of neurological function, this time, thankfully. The cancer is still stable, no new growth according to our expert Dr. Liebsch. The radiologist here thought differently but we trust our guy. Exhale, deep sigh, I have been sleeping through the night these last few days....

It is so funny how just last week I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt so much compassion. Compassion for the girl that still had so much life that she wanted to lead. I am not clinging, I am not suffering but I am a mother of a young boy.

I wasn't terrified, I was sad. I was so capable of being present in my stress this time, watching it manifest itself in my body, feeling it arise and take hold of me. Because I was able to witness this amazing response to the news that IT might be back I was able to calm myself, comfort myself, embrace myself. I was very present in my thoughts, very connected to my body. I felt strong and accepting and then...

Dr. Liebsch called, he felt the radiologist was wrong about the cancer but I do have two new lesions. The thought of neurological demise and deterioration is not a happy thought but it so much easier to breathe through now that I have gone through this journey. I feel in control. My life is what I want to lead, not my fear. I am so busy living and being that I don't want to cling to the "what if's" any longer. Peace is my quest.

I awaken happy, grateful and thinking about my day's work, not the alternative, not now.

The garden after a light frost, October 3rd.

The fall colors were a bit muted and quick this year. We had an extremely dry summer. The plants suffered, the trees struggled...

Lots of good nutrients for the garden, I just have to rake them all up and put them in the garden soil. So if you see bags of raked leaves that people leave out on the curb for the trash man, pick them up, free food for your garden, no work for you!

A "Mammoth" Sunflower from Seed Savers.

Four big heads filled two large jars! Not all of them ripened in time, oh well, we have enough for eating and next year's seeds. The rest are for the birds and the mice.

Happy Days! I hope yours are too...

Peace.

The first hard frost....

2010-10-02T21:04:00.004-04:00

Not so long ago....

Just a few of the many...

Autumn is here, the air is cold, the days are short, the coyotes are back. We have a large pack in the forest behind our house, we can hear them howling, like wolves, in the darkness. The chickens are all locked up, tight.

Tonight we are expecting our first hard frost of the season...

Old jars from my neighbor...

Chocolate.... from 1911.

Hinx Jinx

The old witch stinks

The fat begins to fry.

There's nobody home

But Jumpin' Joan

And mother and father and I.

There is no where else than here...

2010-09-10T19:52:00.002-04:00

I reach down to touch the earth. To affirm her power, with her as my witness I open my eyes. There is no place but here, no other moment, just now.

I am awakening. Freeing myself from the unreality.

I am experiencing an ever expanding epiphany, powerful glimpses into my truth,
the truth that exists for me. It is all within me, it is all now, this moment.

There is no where else than now.

My new color way

2010-08-25T19:56:00.002-04:00

I was inspired by an article in MSL magazine in the doctor's office last month and while out junkin' I found this cute little rayon, Japanese hankie in my color way... I am redoing my room. Thank goodness my husband doesn't mind flowers and pink!

The back of my pillow. I used eco wool batting from Shepard's Dream. They sell left over batting from their amazing bed making business for a very good price and in very large pieces too. So soft and so feel good...

Hope you had a creative day too.

Peace....

How does your garden grow?

2010-08-24T20:50:00.004-04:00

Meine Oma.

Anna von Birnbeck Knodlseder and my great uncle Otto Knodlseder in Munich early in the war. This is the only surviving picture of my Oma that we have. My mother always proudly comments on how her mother washed the clothes with her jewelry and nice dress. She had to scrub the clothes on the old pine table and hang it up to dry in their cramped court yard in the city, as did billions of other women all around the world, all through time. My mother studied, stared at and cherished this photo. It has become part of our family folk lore, a piece of the story, the saga of strong women, surviving, flourishing, living and dying...

honored, loved and not forgotten.

A snippet of the little garden I am growing in my room. It is the one room in the house that we have never touched. Always too busy working on the rest of the house. Leaving it to indecision. There is still soot on the walls from the old wood stove, no new paint, no new trim, but it has been slowly evolving over the last few weeks.

I made the two little picture frames inspired by an old MSL magazine. My girlfriend and I have been collecting old photos of women for many years now, it is fun to finally display them... lives lived, names unknown but still wonderfully alive to me.

So, I have rearranged my treasures...

Our old medicine cabinet from the farm house we used to live in. A doctor's family lived there before us and left a lot of his old stuff... We inherited the cabinet.

Hat pins from Jenny Hoyt, my baby shoes, old Christmas houses, flower pins, a leather change purse from 1897 marked Exposition de Bruxelles soft as a kid glove, and my latest treasure... a hand beaded, mid-1800's reticule (corded hand pouch)

My girlfriend Linda

http://www.lindathiltgen.com

in Minnesota gifted me the beautiful, hand-dyed lace doilie...

did I spell that right?

Peaceful beauty... I wish you joy.

Namaste.

So much to share, so little time...

2010-08-24T19:53:00.003-04:00

Our first sunflower of the summer...

My neighbor Emily brought me some glads. Her father raised them and they are the same tubers from his garden. Emily is 78 years old, the glads are pretty amazing for being that old...

I had to blog about this amazing bean... I bought the seeds from Seed Savers, Fin de Bagnol. Wow. They were slow and tempermental to germinate in this summer's climate (hot, humid and then cold, rainy and then hot, humid) but once they got going, wow. The plants are a bush variety and produce so well. I have been picking them since mid-July. I pick them when they are tender and small. They get long and lean and fill the bush, they are so tasty! I highly recommend this bean. Boutique bean for sure...

We love them lightly steamed with butter, sea salt and Bragg's Apple Cider Vinegar...

All I can say is, wow.

Fin de Bagnol OG

Old gourmet variety of French string bean, delicious round slender pods. Best for eating when picked every 2 or 3 days while still very yount and tender. Does well in cool soil. Very attractive as tiny gourmet green beans. Commands a high price at market. Bush plants, 49-57 days. CERTIFIED ORGANIC

I get a ton of beans off of a tiny bush and every two days I get a huge bowl.

It doesn't look like much in this dish as leftovers, but what a wonderful dinner it was.

Crustless Quiche.

I used 9 duck eggs, 3/4 cup of half and half, 1 1/2 cups of wonderful cheddar, salt, a bunch of chard, 3/4 cup squash, 3/4 cup zucchini, 1 onions, 3 garlic cloves, and 1/2 of a small sweet pepper from my garden lightly sauteed and then a large sprig of fresh cut basil, I sprinkled freshly grated Parmesan and Asiago over the top. Baked in a large dish at 350 degrees F for 35 minutes and a wonderful dinner...

Garlic.

Nantes.

A bunch of yummy.

A basin of life.

A bounty from one picking...

Life is good.

Summer!

2010-08-16T21:28:00.003-04:00

Livin' the good life. Ah!

A sandy beach in Maine.

Beauty in motion! Two little bumblebees, a few seconds later we had three!

Three sisters, bug's eye view.

A very, very big spider... my son thinks it could be a Yellow Orb spider.

Glad I am not a bug....

Me and the girls...

taken by our staff photographer.

Our staff photographer/proof reader/editor/resident spell checker (thank goodness).

Studio Tour

2010-07-18T21:55:00.002-04:00

I was inspired by Beauty that Moves to join her studio tour... How exciting... Here is my little studio. My first one ever.

Goodbye dark closet and boxes stuffed under the bed, I have a place to call my own. I love that I can leave my work on the table and return to it when ever I have a spare moment.

A rug hooking project, reds, greens and black.

A shirt in need of buttons and finishing. I have been practicing finishing my work with French seams and I am finally getting very good at it, thank you Stelladanza...

Namaste

and thanks for letting me join the tour!

Handsome fellow

2010-06-28T18:22:00.003-04:00

My son and I rescued a handsome fellow from a very busy street. He was just sitting in the middle of the road, pulled in and scared. We stopped to help him along and something told me to pick him up. It turns out he is a pretty good sized male Wood turtle, Clemmys insculpta.

My violin teacher, Jane, alias, 'turtle freak',

was so excited when I told her why we were late for lessons.

He is so beautifully colored. Males have a concave shell and longer claws. Wood turtles have shells that look very engraved and pyramidal. They don't usually get this big, they typically grow to 5-8 inches. They eat berries, tender vegetables, insects, grubs, worms and snails. Their shells aren't hinged so they can't pull their legs or tail in too far. You can count the scutes on a wood turtle to calculate its age, just like the rings of a tree. Our guy is 13 or 14 years old. The place that I found him is being rapidly developed so we decided to let him go on our farm. We have the perfect habitat, slow moving, sandy bottomed streams, woodland fields and only one or two cars a day, at most!

Jane said that she has seen two in all of her years. Bob, our mountain man friend who spends weeks in the woods has never seen one his whole life....

They are considered a friendly, nice turtle. Not feisty like a snapper... When Jane and I were flipping through some books we read in the Anna Botsford Comstock's book, "This is one of our most common turtles." She wrote her "Handbook of Nature Study" in 1911. In the E. Laurence Palmer "Fieldbook of Natural History" written in 1949, it said that they are not as common as they once were and now, the NH Fish and Game considers the Wood turtle a species of special concern...

One handsome guy made it.

Living the good life.

2010-06-19T22:45:00.003-04:00

We got our little baby broiler flock last Sunday early. We drove to Vermont to pick them up! Thirty-five little, fluffy babies. It is our second year, I know the routine. I give them love, very good food and lots of grass and bugs and they give us meat. It is the reality of our food. My husband and I decided last year, the night before the harvest that if we couldn't do this we HAD to be vegetarians... some one else is doing the harvesting somewhere and at least we know that our babies are raised humanely, with love, good food and no stress or pain. We rarely eat beef and we try to only eat fish that we have caught in a river or lake that we know... and I have to say that our chickens are the most delicious we have ever eaten.

Our mobile chicken coop, totally made with beg, borrowed and recycled material. Not too cute, yet. A little green paint and oh well, you know, I will make it cute! We are going to move it out behind the horses in the field. We are trying to be good grass farmers and have the pasture well divided. So to keep the field healthy, I bought an old scythe last winter and we plan to cut/save some grass for the geese the old fashioned way this summer. And for the chickens we use our electric webbing fence that just sticks into the ground so that we can protect our flock and they can move around freely!

Have you ever read Small Farm Journal?

We want to wean ourselves off of corporate, industrial food. We try to eat like localvores, it helps being so close to Vermont and all of these farmers up here. It is like stepping back in time to live in New England, they are very proud of their farming, small town heritage. It is truly amazing and wonderful, especially for a flat lander like me. So every summer we are getting closer and closer to our goal of living simply and feeding ourselves for the entire year. We are hoping to build a root cellar in our basement this summer and green house out back... fingers crossed. So far we have a big chest freezer, a dehydrator and natural drying box.

Here are two of our four baby turkeys, two Bronze Breasted and three White Breasted. We hope to start breading the bronze and Narragansett next year too. This is our first year raising turkeys.

My darling holding one of our two lovely, sweet, kissable, huggable, Toulouse geese. He is holding Flory, Toulouse is in the pen. We got these two just as pets, no foie gras... they make great watch dogs and they are the cat's meow....

We hope they will keep our lovey goose company this winter...

And me, farmer girl, in clean clothes, such a rarity these days... you can't see the dirt on my hands, always have them in the earth these days! Life is good....

"Do the best that you can in the place that you are, and be kind." Scott Nearing.

Ah, my mantra.

A bag for Hannah

2010-06-15T20:35:00.003-04:00

I made a bag for my dear friend, Hannah, so that she can carry her work with her on her trip through life. I hoped it would be a bag Jane Austen might have liked. I wanted to add some of my old sewing notions that I had picked up over these many years. I had them hidden away, here and there, through out my sewing room and wanted to gift them to her so that she can share in their energy too. Just think, some women, some where in time, created something useful or beautiful with these tools. They had been hidden away in some one else's sewing room a long time ago and they continue to live now in Hannah's bag.

Little knitting needles that I fixed up just for her. They were an old wooden pair without tops, so I added happy faces instead...

I sewed lots of little pockets to carry all of the little treasures I had collected on my journey through life... old darning thread, darning tools, Victorian snaps and latches, a very sweet, old thimble, a bit of hemp line and some vintage clothes pins to hang dry her work out in the Colorado air.

I also made a little needle case and tucked in a few very old pins and needles just for the fun of it!

Every girl needs a stash of fabric and some linen. A few fat quarters that I had hoarded away, some linen, I added some old buttons, beads, floss, old spools of thread, three new embroidery hoops, and voila, it became a bag for Hannah! Made with love just for her, my dear friend. I thought of her with every stitch. I smiled as I thought of her energy, her passion for life, her creativity, and her Joyful soul, that is the magic about making something by hand for someone else... the love that is woven into the work.

May your work be filled with love.

The first wild strawberries...

2010-06-12T11:08:00.005-04:00

This is a small sample of the little treasures hiding under the grass in fields right now. Millions of them. They are much smaller than our cultivated crop but each tiny jewel is more succulent and sweeter....

I was imagining Helen Dodge in the mid-1800's out picking berries after a long winter. What a wonderful gift.

I was in competition with the ducks this morning as we all raced to find the biggest, ripest fruit. The ducks kept looking over at me as if to say, "How did you know about our secret?"

Progression...

2010-06-01T07:27:00.002-04:00

Monday, May 24th, I started mulching with old, bad hay from winter. Tied up the peas with baling twine. Finished the cucumber bed. The carrots, leeks and celery in the patch are from my winter cold frame. Eliot Coleman is right, the carrots are oh, so sweet.

Sunday, May 30th, my neighbor's old tractor.

They tilled up the yard for my "new" garden. Emily is 76 years old and still digging B I G rocks out of the soil with me. Notice all of the rocks I dug up in my border bed? It was part of an old foundation wall and I found lots of treasures in the earth.

Tuesday, June 1st, new garden and new chicken yard is getting closer to being done. The rest of the asparagus is in, lots of seeds. This is the week to plant the seedlings up here in New England.

The old bath tub is a gift from Emily, my neighbor, it is going to be my water feature....

New raised beds. The sawyer cut the boards from local hemlock, they are very sturdy and hold up in the cold winter freeze and thaw.

Progression towards filling our freezer with our own food,

from 6:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m, every day.

I have let everything else go, especially housework! I promised myself I would heed Scott Nearing's advice and take a day off every week. It is raining today, guess I will take that day off today and let the garden grow.

We smelled the fires from Quebec all yesterday morning. It was smokey and hazy... our poor, dear planet earth is fighting to make it with us on her back. We are like viruses spreading out and touching every stream and valley.... I was thinking the other day while digging a deep hole in rocks that there is an easier way to do this without a shovel and sweat but what is the cost? We do use petroleum but we try to use it sparingly, and for big jobs. It is a challenge being post 50 and late 40's doing this hard work alone, no big family of boys or large community willing to barter labor... Re-building a farm infrastructure from scratch is very hard, exhausting and expensive. We try to do our very best every day, in every way, in every decision we make, knowing that we are touching the earth with our "progression".

Sunset in heaven....

2010-05-30T21:22:00.002-04:00

My husband and our son spent the afternoon canoeing on the lake. As they silently glided along the silver surface our son whispered, "This is my dream." That is heaven. He had to take a few jumps into the ice cold water before they left for home.

With all of the ecological nightmares going on at this very second, so terrible I hesitate to mention them, I can't even bring myself to discuss them, I just read about them and my soul weeps, I actually feel guilty living such a wonderful life...

Our three day turkey poults. White Breasted and Mammoth Bronze Breasted. We have five little babies now. If the two Bronzes are male and female we are not going to harvest them. Seems so strange to talk about them that way, but their life will be wonderful....

Here is their home. We did buy the wire new and some of the lumber for the frame, but we scavenged all the rest. The windows, the plywood, the siding, the tin roof, all of it from left over stuff or from friends that donated their scrapes. We have so many predators around here that if we leave for the day the kids will have to hang out locked in the patio, otherwise we have a electrified web fence that we can move around the turkey pad so they can graze. Momma fox and her kits were playing outside of their den yesterday at my neighbor's house. I have read enough Beatrix Potter to know how sneaky a fox can be.

Hope you have a peaceful day!

Eine kleine Nachtmusik...

2010-05-25T23:40:00.002-04:00

I was typing tonight and kept hearing sounds that called me outside. I stepped out into the night air, like slipping in for a gentle swim in cool water. The moon, almost full. Fireflies lighting the trees like fairies and out across the fields I could hear a trio of Barred Owls calling to each other. "Who-cooks, who-cooks-for-you-all". It was utterly magical. I held my breath and leaned up against that 150 year old maple tree that graces our life. I felt in awe of the world. I was a part of the unified pulse, the connection, the energy of it all, the tree, the owls, the air, the moon and stars, the cosmos. It is what people sang about for thousands of years before electricity and television. I said thank you, a deep thank you to the universe, to this lovely, beautiful, sacred earth and all of her animals and plants. And, thought yes, this is living life. I love this place, I love being alive and aware. It touches my soul in such a deep, wonderful way. It is so pure and simple.

My neighbor Henry turned 96 years old today, he has lived here in the Hollow for 51 years! He hasn't really changed his house since the early 1960's and they didn't do too much to it then. It is such an amalgamation of eras, a lifetime of living. It is like time stands still here...

What beauty abounds!!!

Namaste

Life is good.

2010-04-24T23:40:00.004-04:00

Raindrops

My lawnmower and manure spreader...

Lambs Ear and melted snow...

Spiral herb garden made for me with love by my love...

Garlic

Over wintered leeks and the very last of the mache, grown and eaten all winter long in an unheated cold frame covered in two extra layers of plastic.

I snapped this picture of two sleeping girls through our wavy, 150 year old window... looks dreamy.

Ah, sleeping late is such a guilty pleasure...

Peace.

"All Struggle is Not Loss."

2010-04-20T21:41:00.003-04:00

"There is no one who does not have to choose sometime, someway, between giving up and growing stronger as they go along. And yet if we give up in the midst of struggle, we never find out what the struggle would have given us in the end. If we decide to endure it to the end, we come out of it changed by the doing of it. It is a risk of mammoth proportions. We dare the development of the self.... Life forges us in struggle... all struggle is not destructive... it is not struggle that defeats us, it is our failure to struggle that depletes the human spirit.... Struggle is part of life. In fact, struggle is an unavoidable part of life. It comes with birth and it takes its toll at every stage of development. In each of them we strive for something new at the price of something gained. We tussle between the dark and the daylight moments of the soul. If we stop struggling, we may die. But if we struggle and lose, we stand to die as well. So how are we to think of struggle? Is it loss or is it gain?.... Life itself is the answer..... No other dimension of life can possibly offer it because no other process in life requires so much so deeply of us. Struggle bores down into the deepest part of the human soul.... bringing new life... The problem is that struggle requires the most of us just when we expect it least."

Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope by Joan D. Chittister

Earth Anthem

2010-04-17T14:49:00.004-04:00

Last night we went to a wonderful, pre-Earth Day performance by Kathy Lowe. She sang songs and we created some amazing music right here in our own little town. We came together to honor mother earth and rejoice in our communal energy. We were all so connected by this beautiful, vibrant expression of our love for the earth. We ended the evening by singing an anthem, the tune is our national anthem, but the words....

Earth Anthem

O say can we see

By the one light in all

Our Earth to embrace

At the call of all nations

Where our children can play

In a world without war

Where we stand hand in hand

In the grace of creation

Where the rivers run clean

Through the forest of green

Where the cities stand tall

In the clear skies of freedom

O say do our hearts sing

for harmony and love forever

on the planet of our birth

blessed with peace on Earth

Words by Stephen Longfellow

I thought it was lovely. The entire evening had the same vibe for me as the Iron Eyes Cody pollution commercials of my youth. They need to show commercials like that again, they propelled me to want to change my world.... We need that energy in the big world now, not more offshore drilling!

http://www.woodshades.com/KathyLowe.html

Spring is here...

2010-04-16T23:24:00.002-04:00

Early visitors...

When the ground thaws the earth releases its treasures.... Mica! I am a little obsessed with the hunt for it on the dirt road outside of the house. Every time it rains I find more... it reminds me of searching for shells on the beach.

My neighbor gave me this beautiful rock full of mica as a get well gift after my surgery last year. It was better than a bouquet of flowers.

She is waving hello...

I know farmers should chase the mice out of the barn, but we found this little creature stuck in the bottom of a bucket, dehydrated and dying... My son and I had to help her. So, while he cheered me on, I force fed her some water soaked bread and within an hour she was back...

Of course we had to take her back in the barn when she was better, she might have had friends and family worrying about her... Now that spring is here I am finding plenty evidence of them... they are still here. Oh well, I guess it was the hand fulls of corn I left all winter just in case....silly me.

Spring cleaning...

2010-04-10T14:22:00.005-04:00

Oh, the joy of white washed pine walls in our laundry room. I used Oyster White Milk paint in the hopes of creating a little pantry. I dug out the mismatched, rusty, very old shelf brackets and cut into an old pine board...

The pine boards were the original subfloors of our kitchen. They are truly 1" thick and some of them are 24" wide... we just don't let trees grow that big anymore! Levi's father ran the mill in the hollow, I am guessing that they milled these boards... I only used one of them, the roughest, most split up board I was willing to sacrifice...

Before....

After....

I rescued this old cabinet from the school house down in the hollow when they were cleaning things out. The last class was held sometime in the late 1870's, we saw the graffiti on the walls. What a magical gift that was. After that a family used it as a hunting cabin and brought up their kitchen supplies sometime in the 1940's. I found plates and glasses wrapped in old New Jersey newspaper from November 1940. The secrets were revealed....I collected a lot of little broken treasures and hotel silverware from the things they left behind....The old broken weather vane I dug out of our garden in southern California... memories of my other life... and it points in the right direction too!

The toy box was made by my husband's grandfather, it holds our floor rugs and gloves...

Since our house didn't have it's pantry anymore, I made a mini one in my laundry room...

Treasures from my travels....

Gifts from my family....

My dream is unfolding. I hope yours is too! Namaste....

It's a time of rebirth

2010-04-03T08:50:00.003-04:00

We woke to the sound of dueling wood peckers on the trees outside of our window. I watched patches of grass grow before my very eyes yesterday. The sun was out, the sky was clear and it was warm, like spring. I planted peas and radishes...

Hope your weekend is relaxing and peaceful....

The birds

2010-03-24T15:04:00.007-04:00

Our new guest has become part of our family. I think he will stay, I hope anyway.

He is a rescued, tame Canadian goose we took in at the end of January. He was weak, skinny and very cold. He can't fly and now has a new home.

He follows me around the garden, he is lovely, just lovely.

Our neighbor gave us this chicken house last fall. I put on the window and the nesting box. I still have some work to do, a coat of paint, a better latch... so far it is working out great. The nesting box keeps the eggs so clean.

It only took me a few hours to make two nesting boxes this size. My idea worked! I think knowing how to sew helps so much in the construction of any project. It is all the same idea, creating a three-dimensional, usable object/garment from an idea or prototype, just a different medium...

Easy to open, easy to clean.

The girls.

The "big" chicken house. We made it a few years ago out of salvaged or leftover wood and found windows. It has a bigger box, there are four nests in this box.

Sista lookin' out into the sun.

Bandit, our rooster.

The gift....

Another Aha! moment...

2010-03-22T20:12:00.009-04:00

On the way to my doctor's appointment I felt overwhelmed by the idea that my intuition was trying to speak to me. I feel like I need deep attention from myself for myself. I always have so much running around inside of my head that I can't quite make out what I am hearing. It feels jumbled, inaudible, and I think, "slow down, sit quietly, listen." I have been feeling that impulse for some time now - sit, breathe, Vipassana.... but yet,

I raced to my appointment, grabbed a magazine, O Magazine. It opened right to the page that had an article written by Jada Pinkett Smith. I was inspired, it was almost as if I was directed to read it... a sign post. I love when that happens. It was about her Aha! moment. It went something like this....

"I was...so stuck in the idea that taking care of others was the way to create good relationships. As a result, I tried to micromanage my world. One day I was so overwhelmed I thought I might be crushed under the weight of all the responsibilities I'd taken on...when I started meditating that morning, I felt...Surrender or explode. All of a sudden, I was released.

I realized that by doing less, I can be more."

I felt it. I knew it. It was the message I was trying to tell myself,

the whispers I wouldn't listen to.

Do Less and Be More...

Take care of myself, stop worrying about everything and everyone else.

Wouldn't I rather play with my son, on my violin, or sew a purse, plant some food?

What is it that I really need, every day, to be more whole? What does my husband and child need from me to feel fulfilled? What do I need from them? What is my purpose?

Big questions, I want to boil it down to the root....

Spring is here, chives, oregano, daffodils, melting snow, have a good one...

Scraps of wool...

2010-03-21T11:06:00.005-04:00

My "penny rug" purse.

Felted scraps of wool from past projects.

Over dyed and pieced together.

Lined with my old kitchen curtains...

Deconstructed structure, raw edges and wonderful frays.

Love...

2010-03-20T18:20:00.001-04:00

" The world is waiting for you to Open. Open your heart, let love flow in and out. Let love be your motivation in every action. Let love be the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning and the last thing before bed at night. Let love fill up your body, every cell, until it overflows out into the world, touching everything.

Let Love be your gifted ability; it is what you are meant to do. Every moment take Love one step further in some way, let it grow and grow. Love is endless, as is your ability to express and experience it. There is no limit, no rule, no one way.

The more you Open, the more Love will teach you, fill you, emanate from you. Do not wait. Start Now.

Have Courage, Intent, Willingness. Let Love be the Truth you represent, the tool you carry, the vehicle that brings you to every new step. "

Sent to me by a friend.... thank you.

Message in a bottle

2010-03-19T21:05:00.002-04:00

I wonder who dipped their pen into this ink well?

It is from the 19th century. Can you image the stories?

So beautiful, yet so simple.

Mother-of-pearl with a 14-carat gold nub...

blotter too!

The treasures we find....

Life is good...

2010-03-18T21:22:00.003-04:00

Fresh, lovely, organic, fertilized, happy eggs.

Creativity from grief. I painted this canvas drop cloth for my son.

He wanted a dino island. He told me that he can now play knights, Norse myths, pirates, marine mammal rescue, croccodile tamer or fairy world. He is in seventh heaven today.

Small effort on my part for one happy boy.

The removal of another layer. New, energy efficient windows.

A room with a view.

Namaste... Peace be with you

The fruit of the flower

2010-02-12T14:52:00.009-05:00

I got the call today at 1:14 p.m. Beth found my father in the garage, his heart had stopped beating. "Your father is being air lifted to the medical center. They revived him, he has a very weak pulse, but he has a pulse".

Oh, how I long to feel that pulse just one more day.

Everything else today, all the puttering about, noise making, chattering, all has become still, quiet, bathed in tears. I set it all aside, like a stack of books I will someday read. Nothing loses its importance, the necessities are answered but with a peaceful stillness as I wait.

The phone just rang....

My father's heart is beating, but he is non-responsive. I think he slipped away and was free some where around 12:45 today in his garage. When they found him, HE was gone. They think he had laid there for maybe 20 minutes. They used their incredible machines to get his heart beating again and kept his body alive. He doesn't like hospitals, he loved his garage. He wanted to be busy, it had just snowed, so he was shoveling snow. He knew what he was doing and he would have told us, "Don't tell me what to do, damn it". He was scheduled for another liver cancer treatment on Wednesday, the thought of it was stealing his sleep. He was taking 30 pills a day and felt the weight of all of his ailments; diabetes, emphysema, COPD, arteriosclerosis, and intense leg cramps, liver cancer....

We had the most beautiful, loving, deep conversation last night, he in Colorado, me here, in New England. I was sewing, he was listening to Beth vacuum the floor in the sun room. He was wondering what he was going to have for dinner. We talked about fear, about death, about life, my childhood, his fatherhood, we talked about cancer, about sleepless nights, counting sheep and cherishing moments together. He told me he reads my blog, that he liked the pictures of my life. He and I have had our tough row to hoe, but we always come back again. We always reached out for each other, he loves me,

I love him...

Last night was a rejoining, a sweet good-bye. It could not have been more fortuitous, more welcomed, more wonderful and now, in the light of this sad turn of events, more magical. What a cherished gift it is to be loved by you dad, thank you.

It is 5:17 p.m., Beth just called me from the hospital, they are removing the life support.

He has been gone for hours and he would have wanted it that way.

I love you dad, sleep well, I'll be looking for ya.

Life I love you, all is groovy...

2010-01-27T21:20:00.011-05:00

5th Grade

As I sit here almost one year from the day of my surgery I am filled with feelings of joy and sadness. I think facing and deeply accepting my own mortality was a journey I began when I was about eight, that was when I first began to obsess about the fact that I was actually going to die, some day.

Me when I was four, Madrid, Spain.

While standing at the sink tonight washing the dishes and listening to Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits album I was transported like some cosmic Proustian moment back to my childhood. My mom had this album when I was a kid and it brought me back to the days of playing in the basement with my toy horses, watching Sesame Street and dreaming about what I would do when I grew up. My brother and I would listen to all of my mom's albums while she at work at one of her three jobs. I knew every single word on this album... and it is amazing that I still do.

My brother and me in Madrid, Spain, I was not yet four.

There is real hope, a positive energy, an adolsencent lullaby in that album for me… Each song felt like home as I belted it out at the top of my lungs feeling so happy to be alive and knowing as I washed the dishes that it has all been a wonderful gift, a wonderful journey. Despite the darkness and the pain, I can still feel and see the light, the beauty in it all. My memories are of love and happiness. Tears of joy and sadness met with a breath of reality and it streamed through my heart. I am not afraid now, not afraid to live and not afraid to die. I am so grateful that my spirit feels the beauty more than the pain….I love whole the story.

El Condor Pasa, what a song…

My beloved Betty and my cousin in suburbia, 5th grade.

But the song that best captures my feelings now, the words I want to shout into the universe as February 2nd approaches are…

Slow down, you move too fast.

You got to make the morning last.

Just kicking down the cobble stones.

Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.

Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin' Groovy.

I look just like my son in this picture and little like my friend Hannah too, don't ya think? These are the days I listened to the album with my sweet little brother, right there next to my two, very best, best friends, Maryanne and Karen...

Hello lamp-post,

What cha knowin'?

I've come to watch your flowers growin'.

Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?

Doot-in' doo-doo,

Feelin' groovy.

My birthday party, it was always just about the horses.

I've got no deeds to do,

No promises to keep.

I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.

Let the morning time drop all it's petals on me.

Life, I love you,

All is groovy.

The 59th Street Bridge Song

Simon & Garfunkel

I am truly, honestly, completely living that song, everyday, thankfully.

My dad, my brother and me! My brother lookin' like Glen Campbell.

Fifth Grade Pilgrim village, my mom could sew!!!

My dad and I at Shakey's or was it Pappy's?

My mom in our little kitchen...

I wonder where Mrs. Robinson my music teacher is now? She was one of those amazing hippies that touched my life, she had us singing this song in music class at Town Point Elementary school in the very early 1970’s. Thank you to all of you amazing open minded, progressive hippie teachers and adults that influenced me, that saved me. God, it was good to be a kid in the seventies…

Counting Sheep

2010-01-20T18:29:00.006-05:00

These images reflect my landscape but not my mood. I am not blue, or sad, or forlorn, or lonely, or empty. Actually I am so optimistic, content, at peace, in love and so very full. Sunset tonight was so dramatic, my camera couldn't capture the colors... my mind did.

Since my diagnosis I have moments when my heart skips a beat and my breath gets caught in my throat. Sometimes late at night when I wake up to the sounds of the house settling I feel vulnerable, scared, even paranoid. Thousands of fears and what ifs run through my mind waking me and pushing me into the shadows. I pinpoint and analyze every little pain, stomach rumble, ache or throb and think it too has become something new, something ominous.

So, I roll on to my back, breathe deeply and find my center. I quietly, kindly say to myself, "breathe, I am o.k., my mind is racing because I am afraid, I remember the journey, I am at peace, I am o.k., I am awake therefore I am here. I am in bed, it is time for sleep, to heal, to rejuvenate, to dream."

I find the place in my stomach or chest where I am twisting the fear into panic and I breathe it out. I relax my body, I think about my blessings, my gift of letting go. I think of all of the faces of my friends and family, the smiles I met that day, the animals. It is not always easy to let go but it always works. And then I drift into construction, making a purse, knitting a sweater, thinking about how I want to paint our bedroom, the cute little mirror I saw in the antique shop that inspired me, playing the violin. I think about the things I love to do with my hands, my "free time". I think about the things I want to do with the time that I have, the now.

Those are the sheep that I count.

Count your sheep.

Sleep well out there.

Peaceful spirits and joyful hearts, fear is the real demon.

P.S. Byron Katie has an interesting and powerful perspective on looking at life...

try The Work.

Just a little glimmer...

2010-01-16T14:33:00.004-05:00

I have been out and about lately. I went to one of my haunts in the capital and found this sweet little pattern in my favorite sewing booth. The pattern is from 1919 and so sweet. I am going to be brave and try my hand at making one, though I am not 16...

Here are some goodies I got on my journey. Some old, some new to me. I got everything for very little. The pattern was four, the sewing accoutrements and the little Godey print in the back, three each. The snaps are Victorian and black, the wooden tube of needles is from 1923. A total of eleven dollars and I have a plate over flowing with joy.

Oh, and the plate, one dollar.

2010-01-01T11:27:00.007-05:00

Happy New Year!

Life on the Hollow is filled with the sounds of laughter and contentment, with sighs of sadness and lives passing.

The entire circle, all of the struggle and all of the joy.

We look with eager eyes to the blue moon, the snow and the new year.

We accept it all with love and hope…..

Things are not always as they appear.

"In every life, no matter how full or empty one's purse, there is tragedy. It is the one promise life always fulfills. Thus, happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it but to delight in it when it comes, and to add to other people's store of it."

Charles Dickens

from the movie…Nicholas Nickleby

".... family need not be defined merely as those with whom they share blood but as those for who they would give their blood."

Charles Dickens

from the movie…Nicholas Nickleby

Happy New Year! To all of my family, blood and heart!

Cold carrots in December

2009-12-16T00:10:00.004-05:00

We harvested purple carrots out of the frozen cold frame today. My son planted a variety of carrots in late August. The window panes were frozen shut and buried under slushy snow. After I preyed open the top and dug my hand down into the freezing soil I pulled up two beautiful purple carrots. One for Bunny (that is who he planted them for) and one for us...

What a gift.

The ground never had a chance to freeze. The temperature last week peaked at 59 degrees Fahrenheit. Usually the ground freezes a bit first, then the snows come, then the fun begins. It threatened to rain today and wash it all away, but it didn't. The wind is blowing and the temperature is 30 degrees F now. Whenever the wind blows like this I always wonder, where are all of my animals? Are they warm? Are they safe? It was so warm today, now the temperature is dropping. A cold front pushing up against a warm front, making wind, high wind. The other day the gusts blew over important things, things that broke. Luckily they didn't have any animals in them...

It is late, or should I say early in the a.m.

Spooky sounds abound.

Eeekkk, I am off to bed. Nighty-nite.

Snow!

2009-12-13T16:22:00.009-05:00

I was reminded again today about the beauty of life. Raw nature, life as it is, streaming on. This year is the emotional opposite of last year at this time, almost to the very day. I was submerged in fear, deep sadness, and feeling totally helpless. Bone cancer are two very scary words. My journey began with the loss of my eyesight in my right eye, July 2008. I flippantly thought that it was just an advanced sinus infection. My eye doctor gently told me that he thought it might be MS. I remember shaking, thinking, "no, not now, not me, I have never had a serious medical condition. We just moved into our old farm house, we just got my nieces for the summer, we are just starting out on our dream. We worked and saved and waited for ten years to get here, I am only forty-five, groan." Neurological demise seemed terrifying, I felt so vulnerable. I started crying. My pupils still dilated, I had to sit in the waiting room, breathing, keeping my cool, staying grounded, in denial, sort of. I used to be a hypochondriac in my other life so in my fear I easily slipped into feeling sorry for myself and in that moment thought, "ya, I knew it." "Too good to be true."

The scheduling started, Thanksgiving was coming, Christmas around the corner, our first one on the edge of the hollow, I was ready to deal and to celebrate. Two MRI's and CT scans later they thought it was definite, I had MS, but wait, what is this tumor here in your petrous bone? They found it in July, it didn't seem alarming then. Maybe nothing, maybe a scar from an ear infection, but no, Nancy Yazinski in the MS clinic of Dartmouth Hitchcock in Lebanon wouldn't let it go. In November I went to meet a neurosurgeon, by myself, again casually thinking it was just a shadow or an anomaly. I had come to terms with my diagnosis of MS, I joined the national association. So many wonderful people around the country reached out to me, called me, consoled and advised me. I felt strong, I felt like MS is o.k., I can handle this, it is progressive, it is unpredictable but it is... I said to him, "oh, no worries, as long as it isn't an aneurysm or tumor." He quietly, kindly said, "It isn't an aneurysm." So it was a tumor. He thought it might be a chondrosarcoma. BONE CANCER! In the center of my skull of all places, talk about the possibililty of non-invasive surgery slipping away. I thought maybe it was a blip from my late 70's high school over experimentation of altering my consciousness in an attempt to answer the question and drown my fear. No. His interpretation was scary, dangerous, life threatening. Surgery, a hole in my skull larger than a silver dollar, brain clamps, seizures, coma, tremors, blindness, deafness, inability to swallow, and more. I was shaking, I was sobbing, I had to drive home alone. It seemed like an out of body experience. I called my husband from the parking garage, I couldn't catch my breath. He breathed for me. He is always so calm, so rational, so steady, I just exhaled, felt the seat under my body, my feet on the floor boards, his words, anapana and it was o.k. All the practice, the sitting, the breathing, the courage to look inside served me well. I was ready, I looked up and turned the key. I wanted to move forward, travel this journey with grace. I didn't know what all of this meant for me but I knew my eight year old son would be watching, hearing, feeling all of this too.

So, I chose to step into the light. To breathe in the light. Noni gave me the gift of feeling the depth, the healing power, the letting go into the light. It was real for me, it emanated from my heart. I could easily breathe, I could let go. My mantra for the last twelve months has been, "let go". I understand on a cellular level what it feels like to loosen my grip, unclench my teeth, let go and not cling to life. All of that clinging and clenching had been the symptoms of my greatest fear, my death. I can remember asking my mom when I was very young what it was all about, why was I here? What will it feel like when I die, where will I go? I spent my entire life trying in so many ways to understand my fear and to find the answer to those questions....

and in one fell swoop, I knew. I had been whispering prayers to the universe most of my life for help, for contentment, for peace, for the courage to face what we all have to face and that was it. That was the great gift I described, the gift, the wrapping, and the bow. I let go.

I remember early in December and January looking out of our bathroom window in the morning thinking about the things I had to do that day or some unhappy responsibility I was in charge of. Just daily life, the dishes, dirty clothes, cooking, cleaning, my weight gain, whatever million little, silly or not-so-silly thoughts I would harvest and I would think to myself, "Oh YES, I'll take that, give that to me, those old 'problems', those worries, if that is all I had to bear that would be wonderful." All of the silly and not-so-silly became sweet, worth cherishing, worth smiling about. All of the mundane became beautiful rituals of my life, my gift to my self, to my family, and my life. The life I was trying to create. Even knowing that at some point in January I was going to have my skull drilled into I knew it was going to be fine, whether I died or whether I lived. Being incredibly driven to the dramatic, of course, I assumed that I would die. I began to embrace that. Slowly at first, not morbidly, but beautifully. I felt like it wasn't the end, the thought that we all have to die became so matter of fact, so o.k., kind of like a club I would join. I started to think of all of the people that passed before me, known and unknown. I thought of all of my ancestors, my friends, my animal companions and I felt........AH.

It is beautiful. I would make the most out of every second I still had consciousness. I am breathing now, I would think, I am here now. Wow, I wish I had felt that so many times before. All of the petty worries, all of the micro-managing. All of the little stuff seemed so little, unimportant, inconsequential. I decided to call all of my friends, to make the most out of every conversation with every person I met, look deeply into every pair of eyes, Namaste all day long. My son, my husband, I deeply embraced them with every breath. I felt so strong, so awake, so present, so ALIVE!

My husband and our dear friend Jon found endonasal surgery and UPMC on the internet. I can remember being resolved to get the craniotomy, my husband was not. At the very end of December I sent UPMC an email and waited, hopeful. They responded on Monday, asking for all of my records and pictures. It was a whirlwind. I flew alone to Pittsburgh, a big feat for me, and met with the team. They said yes, I said yes and we scheduled my surgery for February 2, 2009, the Monday after the Superbowl, Pittsburgh Steelers vs St. Louis Cardinals. I hadn't been to Pittsburgh since I was a child, I have wonderful memories of my time with my family in Pittsburgh. My father was born in Pittsburgh, his father was born in Pittsburgh, it was my town too. While I peered out of the taxi's window into the city that streamed by along the Monongahela and up to Shady Side I quietly thought about all of my ancestors that had lived there, breathed there... I felt embraced, I wasn't alone. The city was beautiful, changed, exciting. The hospital was bustling with people from all over the planet. Doctors, interns, nurses, workers, patients, families, children, it was a metropolis driven by hope. I felt brave and free, what would be would be and I was no longer clinging, it all felt safe and I trusted...

Here is my garden in the wet, wet snow of December 2009. My cold frames are buried but still filled with life. Green, young leeks, onions, chard, carrots and some celery that just never grew. I thought maybe it was a dwarf variety, you know, 4 cm tall? No stalk, just leaves. ha ha....

Peace and Namaste

Thanks Giving

2009-11-22T17:35:00.006-05:00

A sweet little Thanksgiving postcard from days gone by.

The back of the card reads:

"From your school-mate and cousin. Margaret. For-get-me-not."

addressed to,

Miss Jena Zimmer

Humbolt, South Dakota

On Naming A House

When I a householder became

I had to give my house a name.

I thought I'd call it "Poplar Trees,"

Or "Widdershins" or "Velvet Bees,"

Or "Just Beneath a Star."

I thought of "House Where Plumbings Freeze,"

Or "As You Like it," "If Your Please,"

Or "Nicotine" or "Bread and Cheese,"

"Full Moon" or "Doors Ajar."

But still I sought some subtle charm,

Some rune to guard my roof from harm

And keep the devil far;

I thought of this, and I was saved!

I had my letter-heads engraved

The House Where Brown Eyes Are.

1917

There are wonderful Brown Eyes here, in my little house, deeply loved and cherished...

Autumn Colors

The chestnut trees turned yellow,

The oak like sherry browned,

The fir, the stubborn fellow,

Stayed green the whole year round.

But O the bonny maple

How richly he does shine!

He glows against the sunset

Like ruddy old port wine.

This little, red book of poems is very sweet too. There are so many poems about life with mummy and daddy. He reminds me of the poet and author A.A. Milne...

Have a blessed week, happy days and may you weave many memories of love and joy throughout this holiday season....

Winter is in the air...

2009-11-21T17:30:00.003-05:00

My son's very first snowman, ever. The spirit of winters past... He lived in our front yard in the snow of my son's seventh year... I love his face.

Every year Omi sends Christmas ornaments to her grandson.

This was his very first ornament... a wooden pony.

My Christmas craft from years ago, when they were Handmade By the Sea. Now they are Made By Hand in an Acorn Forest in the wee hours of the night. Same energy, different little cottage. I lovingly apply the glass glitter to the reproduced images from my antique postcard collection. Some of the glitter is vintage mica, but most is from Germany. Silver glass glitter and Frost Flake from Japan. I buy most of my beautiful glitter and tinsel from D. Blumchen. Go to www.blumchen.com, you will love their advent calenders too! The silver lametta that I use to hang the decorations was made in the same factory in Germany for the last 300 years on the original Victorian machines... It is real silver, it develops a beautiful patina with age... Unfortunately, some how the world forgot, or no longer values beautiful, handcrafted Christmas decorations and the company closed last year. A 300 year old tradition gone in the blink of an eye. How many things do we have access to that are still being created from that long ago? How many can we count? How many can we honor and save?

I love to collect vintage Christmas items. I love to think of the mothers and fathers that decorated their house with all of the sweet little trinkets and the children that sat mesmerized by their magic in anticipation of Christmas morning... Those wonderful, old treasures remind me of my childhood, they feel sweet, they have soul.

I made 31 decorations as a gift to the Friends of our little library. They are on sale at our local art gallery. I had to be invited by the director before they would offer my decorations so I was deeply flattered when they accepted my work. I love the way the glitter sparkles in the evening light.

Hot chocolate, ginger cakes, Christmas music, dim lights and ahhhh, my favorite holiday is right around the corner.... but Thanksgiving first.

I am thankful for my life... Namaste.

Fruits of our labor...

2009-10-19T12:01:00.005-04:00

Here are my raised bed gardens in late May.

We started the second phase of our raised bed vegetable gardens this April. After my surgery in February I was unable to lift, dig or carry anything until May. Phase two of our second year garden was smaller than we had planned but was still beautiful, productive and educational.

It was the year without a summer. Rain, lack of sunshine and below average (read "cold") temperatures in New England took its toll on our region's food production. We had so many cold, rainy days in June that it delayed the growth of our warm loving crops.

The average temperature for June 2009 in the Nashua, NH area was 63.3 degrees, on June 1st it was 39 degrees in some areas. The precipitation was on average 6.56", 2.56" above normal. A late frost killed most of the flowers on the strawberry crop, so regionally strawberries were hard to find. In our garden they were non-existent. Our basil, tomatoes, cucumbers and eggplants were very late to start. We ultimately lost the tomatoes and potatoes to the blight...we did get two eggplants and quite a few basil, but fall came early and it has already snowed.

I feel like our raised beds (3'w x 14' l x 18" h) helped keep the vegetables from flooding. Last year the back garden was under water from all of the rain, the deep hardpan and the possible granite ledge under the yard... The soil was warmer too from the sun heating up the entire bed. It was definitely easier to weed.

We built a compost bin out of pallets from the local dump. A local farmer sells composted cow manure. His cows are raised naturally. No antibiotics nor growth hormones. Grass fed in our community. We filled the raised beds with the manure and mulched with last years left over straw. The straw is not a local product (Canada and NY) but we had it, we use it (about 5 bales a year) and it works.

My raised bed gardens in late June.

My garden and chicken yard in early October. The chickens are molting and not laying as many eggs per day right now. You can see our spiral rock garden. We build a half moon bed farther to the right. The back garden has been stripped bare by the chickens. The purple kale look like prehistoric plants because we have been picking leaves from the bottom up. Yummy.

I have dreams of starting a campaign for food justice in our community. This is my beginning. I feel like my health will hold out, I will spend the winter preparing and when spring comes around again...

Reflections of a whirlwind...

2009-10-07T16:16:00.006-04:00

Summer....

New beginnings....

Flowers, herbs, legumes, grass....

Ducks, chickens, bunnies, children...

Birthday cakes, vanilla ice cream with dinosaur sprinkles...

Swings in trees, leaves, solid maple trunks....

Sweet, delicious, green, bountiful peas....my favorite garden vegetable this year.

Salamanders in the grass.

Covered bridges...

Instead of city lights, wooden boards...

Fresh picked apples...

Eleven pounds of late season blueberries, local corn and homegrown food...

Autumn raspberries....

Autumn is here, the summer flew past, the leaves are changing, the air is crisp, the rains are cold, Jack Frost has come and the gardens are drifting off to sleep.

New seasons of life, thankful, peaceful, quiet, warm, filling.

The moments of my day

2009-06-11T20:48:00.004-04:00

seem to drift in and out of my awareness. I haven't touched down in a few weeks. I have been a flutter of activity, of dreams fulfilled, struggles realized, relationships changed, growing, constricting, like my breath of late. I have been whirling around in the top of my head with goals and expectations. Not having to go to Boston has freed my schedule and so I filled it with visions of my garden, my sewing room, my son, the girls, the animals, my husband, my family, the projects - the many exciting projects. Just what you would hope summer should be, the ideal feeling you hope for in the snowy February landscape...unfurling before my eyes.

Henry's peonies, they are already in bloom. They are on the southern side of his house, sheltered and growing along a dark blue wall in full sun. Or is it just Henry's touch?

I took a walk to my neighbor's house, a stones throw across the dirt road. Henry just celebrated his 95th birthday and his 70th wedding anniversary. A life time and more...he still cuts his grass, weeds his garden and plants his vegetables. He planted the Iris' about 40 years ago or so in an old cistern that was used to water cows. A pipe ran into the cistern from the spring up the hill. I love that Henry just lets things be, lets them grow the way they will, rust, lean, weather without emotion, just acceptance. There used to be a huge cow barn where the Birch are now.

Henry has lived here in this house on the edge of the hollow for 50 years, he visits his wife every day in the home and comes back to his little house. He gave me a collection of old hat pins his wife had tucked away. He told me she loved going to yard sales. He smiled a sad smile and said, "Poor Jenny". Life changes, the world around us changes, sometimes the change is unrecognizable or unnoticed or seemingly unimportant until one day we find something to measure that change.

My life is so completely filled with ideas, dreams, projects, people, activity, movement. I sometimes see Henry take his quiet, slow stroll down the road a bit and turn to come back. He walks in the yard or sits in his old chair under the barn and listens to his radio while I flutter around in my yard with the animals or in the garden. Life is so different for him. He lives alone, his house is very quiet, very still. It seems a luxury to me to have time to sit and read a book or listen to the radio just to hear it. When does that change happen? The change from busy to quiet? The change from not having enough time to waiting for something to happen? Henry tells me it is lonely, I try to visit him every day. I hug him deep and full every time, it has become our ritual. Fill his world with touch, with embrace, my tiny, meager effort to fill some of the space.

When I lived in California I had an elderly neighbor, he had lost his wife just a few years before and lived alone. He often left his door open and I would wave to him while I bustled by with all my stuff. I started visiting with him on Wednesday evenings and we talked for hours about his life, about the old days, about his lovely wife. He told me he left his door open in the hopes that he would see someone pass by. He spent most of his time waiting. Waiting for the meals he would take at the buffet down the street with his friends. He would wake early, read the paper, meet his friends for breakfast, take a nap, go back, meet them for lunch, mill around, leave his door open, listen to a ball game, sleep, dream about his wife and wait for Wednesday evenings. Sweet Harry Anderson, my dear friend.

Simplicity, that is what life is about, beauty, peace, love, friendship and

it is oh so sweet.

An ancient Butternut tree. Henry said the squirrels planted it in the wall, it is still hanging on and still producing nuts. Life is funny that way. It would seem impossible that such a big tree, such an old tree, growing crooked and half fallen on its knees could still unfurl its leaves, reach up to the sun, grow new branches and yield sweet fruit. It is fitting that it grows in Henry's yard, his friend for so many years, leaning to the south, still yearning for the sun and feeding the world around it. Henry feeds our hearts.

The rain just started, it is a percussion of sound with cool air....

Lilacs at sunset

2009-05-20T20:11:00.005-04:00

So I don't even know how to begin to explain a deep dream come true. I was given a gift. I opened my heart to the energy of the universe, I asked in whispers to see life more fully, to breathe more deeply, to feel it all, to be, now, present, awake.

You never really know in what package your gift will arrive. If you are really open to the gift, you take it all. My gift came wrapped in fear, a threat of death, a fading away, a son losing his mother, a family losing their girl. I heard a story about my future that seemed unbelievable, sad, not a dream I had dreamed in the grass looking up into the sky so long ago. Here I am in the place I dreamed, the heart I dreamed I would be growing but not this ending....and still I accepted it. My heart grew bigger, my eyes clearer, my mind more quiet, spirit open to every possibility and still I felt thankful, grateful, sad and joyful. I wrapped my arms around the package and cared for all of it, the gift, the wrapping, the box, all delicately carried under my arm and I said yes.

I looked farther, I stepped in and reached up. Monday as I breathed into my unfolding day at Mass General in Boston I smiled at my circumstance and accepted it. It was a great letting go. We met with Dr. Norbert Liebsch to discuss my 38 day proton beam radiation treatment. I smiled, listened, and wrote down my questions. He is so amazing, professional, gentle, generous, informed, on the ball and down to earth. He told me a different story, a different version of my cancer, my chondrosarcoma, a version completely different than the one I had heard twice at two different places at different times. There is no urgency, there is no impending doom, no sign of the cancerous tumor left, no re-growth, no fear of metastasizing. No need for radiation...

Take a breath, wait 6 months, get new scans, live my life, open to the hope that this is not the time. I felt elated, relieved and grateful. I was already so grateful for the journey. I have been so very in the moment for months, I feel everything, so viscerally, every cell, every molecule, every heartbeat and my yes has become a thank you.

The gift is still under my arm but I can release the wrapping. It may come in a different form and I am ready but the gift is here, with me now, always, in this very moment and this one and this one and this one.....

Namaste

The hospital, the staff, Dr. Norbert Liebsch are all amazing. The hospital is state of the art. Dr. Liebsch is one of the top oncologists for chondrosarcoma in the world. Mass General is one of a very few hospitals that offer Proton Beam radiation. They have an amazing cancer treatment center, very inviting, friendly, warm, supportive staff. They are cutting edge. I felt very safe, I trusted every one I met. It was very peaceful. They are very helpful. Chondrosarcoma is very slow growing, rarely, rarely metastasizes, doesn't usually cause other problems unless it grows into areas of the brain or brain stem that can be pressured by the tumor. My tumor was touching my brain. 95% of his patients don't have surgery to remove the tumor, the radiation controls the growth. It works. It is very effective. Talk to him before you get surgery, before you grow your fear. My surgery was so thorough that Dr. Daniel Prevedello at UPMC removed 100% of the tumor. Dr. Liebsch couldn't see any evidence of the tumor and thought that the surgery was well done, amazing. I was blessed, I was lucky, I am deeply grateful. I won't set my gift down, or store it under the bed in a pretty box, or tuck into the pages of my favorite book. I will carry my gift always and I still say yes, I have let go of the grip and I feel free. I dance with my fingertips grazing the veil of the night sky and I am not afraid, for the first time in my life. This year, which started for me in July, seemed to be about endings, illness, but has been instead about beginnings, life, beauty and love, deep love, even before this Monday at Mass General with wonderful Dr. Norbert Liebsch.

A little old and a little new...

2009-05-08T20:23:00.005-04:00

I took the dimensions of the nature bag I made for my son and made a smaller version of it for myself. I love the pocket under the flap, I just used odd shaped pieces of fabric. The flap is a little longer but when I fill it with books, my shopping list, my watercolor pad and water colors plus my wallet it takes up the slack. I designed this bag a few years ago but made it 14" x 15" this bag is 12" x 12". Smaller and lighter, I am an over-packer, my shoulder is grateful!

A little old, a little new, a little Amy and little Kaffe....

Inside and out!

I love fat quaters....happy spring.

The greatness in me is you.....

2009-05-04T20:55:00.009-04:00

Have you ever really wondered what it will be like? The light, the great light? The dance is over, the music is a quiet symphony playing as you file out. Quiet, hot with sweat from the dance, you smile into the dark, the wind twirls your hair, you eyes look up into the night sky and see the stars. You reach up, mountain pose, high up, touching the very tip, reaching the veil, grazing fingertips across the edges. Warm air around, toes barely touching the ground, light as a feather. Deep sigh, one look back and up, up, up, up, it is all so beautiful, smiling faces.

While I still dance here in my living room, poetry, rhythm, pulsing beat, beautiful moments, warm, deep, red wine, May evening, sky clear, moon just crescent smile, I dance this dance, moving, sweating, smiling, breathing, dress clinging, shimmering, toes peeking out, arms out stretched, singing the words, loving the dance.

I am going to be great for me! This is great for me. I want to be great for you too. I whisper your name, I look deeply into your eyes, searching for the white of your teeth just beneath the surface of your smile. Kiss your life, the essence of all that you are, so full, so alive, good and bad, joy and terror, morning and evening....I wrap my arms around your love, breathe you in deeply and jump......

A single drop of blood

2009-05-03T11:23:00.004-04:00

I cry as I write this, listening to Loreena McKennitt and watching my son play with his dinosaurs in a giant pile of clean, beautiful soil that will be our garden. It is funny, now that I know I have cancer everything feels so much more precious to me, even a single drop of blood. I don't dwell too much on my new state of health, or lack of it, but it does cross my mind in a melancholy sort of way.

There have been many times in my life when I sat quietly and stared into the reality of my own death. But I have this name now and I can feel my death walk with me, beside me, in a tangible, peaceful way. It is all unknown, every day, I know that. But one of my possible moments is now named and that is o.k., it's all precious, every drop. I won't waste a moment of it.

Today, washing old flower pots I cut my finger. It was a quick, sharp, deep, tiny cut but it bled. A single, large drop of my blood fell. That is me, that is my life, I thought. I have this big fear, an even bigger sadness, but wrapped around all of that I have this deep sense of magic. The beautiful gift of life, the sacredness of death, there is a beauty in it. We all have to pass that way, I am just so conscious of it now. I will, hopefully, have many more years of this Good Life but for now, processing this new state, I am somehow able to embrace my death. I love life, I love my home, my family, my friends, my chores, me.

My husband returned from his trip yesterday. He was happy to see me, I was deeply grateful for him too. Every time he hugs me now I cry. A deep, childlike, choking sob...of happiness, of love, of sadness, of fear, of gratefulness...like a long, slow goodbye.

A tiny forest, algae and fungus....

2009-04-28T20:13:00.007-04:00

A beautiful little forest clinging to a small, dead branch. It is like a galaxy on to itself; independent, fragile, vulnerable, living out its life on a precarious limb.

Frog eggs or Newt?

Notophthalmus viridescens - Eastern Newt

We watched their dance, male and female locked in a struggled embrace.

Two were silent. Quiet, unmoving, still locked in their embrace. Was the passion too strong? Did their struggle overwhelm them? It was sad. The water did not move while the sun blazed across the surface of the pond. I stared in silence. Why this moment? Another newt glimmered in the corner of my eye and I turned my head to follow him.

The two dead lovers still haunt me, floating there at the bottom, waiting to complete the circle.....

Erythronium americanum - American Trout Lily or Yellow Adder's Tongue

They stand shoulder to shoulder.

Lined up, watching each other. Small, curious faces reaching up from the forest floor. It was unnaturally warm here today. It felt like an intrusion, confusion. There are no leaves on the trees to shelter us from the burning rays. I think it was the abnormal humidity, the deep, burning heat that invaded our April...

Kerry's favorite spring wild flower

Two happy faces jump and splash. It began as a walk on the edge, then off came the shirts, knee deep became head first and then, mud bath.

A covered bridge. New, replacing the old. The town rebuilt her, nail by nail, the story goes. A youthful prank burned the old one. Oxen and men slid this one in place, the old way, in honor of the fallen one. Every nail, every board, all the effort, the entire town came.

The ritual still survives; horns blow from the heart of the covered bridge.

Melissa officinalis - Lemon Balm

I have extended my nature journal to include a study of the herbs in my garden. One by one I am going to draw and describe them in my journal. I think that by doing the study I will remember the details.

Here is a page from my nature journal. We laid on the grass in front of the stone wall for hours and talked about lichens until it was too dark to see.

The little red insects? Ticks, soft bodied ticks. I thought they were precious little spiders until I put on my glasses...ticks. They looked like tiny red skinned potatoes. I still haven't identified them yet. Do you know what they are called?

Six hours later...

2009-04-19T19:21:00.010-04:00

My son has gotten so excited about his nature journal. He carries it around with him every where he goes and correlates every bird observation he makes to the evolution of dinosaurs.

So, I had to make him a nature satchel. I started yesterday afternoon and worked straight through (except for chores and dinner) and by bedtime (my bedtime) I had finished the bag. I used scraps of fabric I have had since he was a baby and had just enough to piece together a fun bag. I used some nice weight, choco-brown linen I had on hand and lined it with two layers of washed, stiff duck cloth.

The outside flap has reptiles; one side panel, frogs; the other, turtles; the handle has insects and the back panel has a strip of fish (from the inside lining fabric). I also added a pocket with a Luna moth under the front flap just in case he finds some rocks. He has a whistle, a compass, his paint brushes, water colors, a jar covered in wool for water and tonight I am going to make his color pencil pouch. He showed it to his friends today with pride. I was so happy that I could create something that he loved so much.

I told him how my mom used to sew things for me and how I always felt so special when ever I would wear them because I knew she made them for me. I used to feel so safe and comforted falling asleep to the sound of her old Singer sewing machine whirring away at the dinning room table. I remember just sighing knowing that she was sitting there so close. He fell asleep to the sound of my machine while I sat in my sewing room creating something special just for him.

I hope he remembers his bag the way I remember the cool, Burda, lemon-yellow jumper my mom made me in seventh grade, the one with the chrome hooks on the front. My mom is from Germany and her sister sent her the Burda magazine regularly. I remember when it came, we would pour over it at the kitchen table and dream about making something different and fashionable. It was my mom's little glimmer of home. I remember feeling so lucky that she could sew and that she would be willing to sew something for me!

Here is a picture of the outside in pieces.

The green, tropical fish scene is the inside lining. I made little pockets out of scraps of fabric I have been hoarding for years.

He loved the wave pocket, it reminded him of his days surfing with his dad at the Shores in California. I used duck cloth to make a pocket for his paint brushes and magnifying glass.

I also made a batting lined pouch out of the insect fabric to carry his water colors. I'll post the pictures of his little jar with wet felted wool and the pencil & paint pouches later.

I can't wait to show his bag to my mom.

May the light of your soul guide you...

2009-04-18T13:24:00.002-04:00

May the light of your soul guide you.

May the light of your soul bless the work
You do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal to those
Who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in the bland absences.
May the day never burden you.
May dawn find you awake and alert, approaching your new day with dreams,
Possibilities and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.
May your soul calm, console and renew you.

John O'Donohue

"A blessing is a circle of light drawn around a person to protect, heal and strengthen."

"Our longing for the eternal kindles our imagination to bless. Regardless of how we configure the eternal, the human heart continues to dream of a state of wholeness, that place where everything comes together, where loss will be made good, where blindness will transform into vision, where damage will be made whole, where the clenched question will open in the house of surprise, where the travails of life's journey will enjoy a homecoming. To invoke a blessing is to call some of that wholeness upon a person now."

from Bless the Space Between Us

I reached into a box of watercolor pads today and put my hands on a thin spiral pad with a plain, unattractive cover. I thought to myself, "no, not this one" but I lifted it higher and opened it to a page I had, in very neat, very tiny, black words, written the poem "May the light of your soul guide you". And I thought, "Thank you". That was the message I needed to remember this very moment and thank you John O'Donohue for your love.

The fruit on the tree....

2009-04-18T10:19:00.012-04:00

It is a cool, overcast morning. It is 60 degress F, the air is moist and the sky is grey. It feels colder than 60 degrees, brrrrr. After we finished our chores my son and I quietly walked out into the world. We try to find all of the new growth around us as if we are on an Easter egg hunt. We bend, stoop, gently move mulch and dead leaves all the while calling out "look here", "oh my, this wasn't here yesterday" and "wow". It is like a song we sing to each other every morning. It is almost comical how we unconsciously use the same exclamations on every outing.

Can you figure out what wonderful plant is unfurling here?

Rhubarb, Rheum rhabarbarum

Narcissus in the herb garden

Chives, Allium schoenoprasum, peaking out of the dead leaves.

The haze in this picture is light reflecting off of the cold frame glass. We moved this cabbage into the cold frame in early September. We also planted carrots and lettuce in early September as part of our homeschool work. We planted late and thought we would just see what would happen.

We made a primitive hoop frame for the cold frames and covered them with plastic that we had found on a roll in the basement. It was thick and heavy, I don't what its original purpose was but it worked great over the frames. It was a bit stiff, this year we are going to try double-hinged glass windows over the top of a few of them instead and compare the difference. Eliot Coleman recommends the plastic tunnel over the cold frame, it makes sense that it completely encapsulates the frame in an envelope of air, but a guy at the Vermont Solar Festival last year got great results with double, opposite hinged panes of glass. He would open one panel in the day and close them both, overlapping on themselves at night. We always find and pick up discarded windows at the transfer station (where we take our trash every week - it is like a smorgasbord of great treasures and the perfect place to catch up on all the town news).

The temperature inside of the frames was always about 20 degrees warmer (give or take) than the outside temp. Snow fell in December and that was the last we saw of our carrots and lettuce. By January the frames were covered in snow, we couldn't even see them anymore and by late January I stopped scraping the snow off the top of the plastic.

The snow melted away a few weeks ago and we pulled back the plastic tunnel. There were small, greyish-green carrot tops and very green lettuce. The picture above was taken about a week after we removed the plastic sometime after the vernal equinox.

Here is a picture of the box about a week ago. The lettuce gets bigger every day and the carrots in the center of the box that get most of the sunlight are big and green. I set the frame over a chunk of chives and a few dandelions too. The chives are up and ready to eat. Without the plastic the temp stays about 10 degrees warmer than the ambient air around it. We also found that three of the four cabbage plants I scooped up and stuck in the frame just for the heck of it came back too. I had heavily mulched that frame because we were nursing our Swiss Chard for as long as we could so the cabbage were nestled in deep straw. I packed straw around the outside of the frame between the wood and the plastic too. So we may get some early cabbage this year!

We started our nature journal yesterday. I am using the Ana Botsford Comstock book, Handbook of Nature Study, as my guide. I have also been inspired by my girlfriend Jenny. She has turned me on to so many great books, like Edith Holden's journal and Enid Blyton's Nature Lover's Book, and so many more that I could make a list. I love the beauty of teaching my son from these books. I love the Burgess books too. I feel that I yearn for the innocence and magic conveyed by these authors and this time in pedagogical history. Rudolf Steiner, Beth Sutton - who wrote the Enki curriculum fits that category, Charlotte Mason, and many, many more. I studied history, art history and social sciences in college. I went back to get my teaching credential. My focus was in special ed when "special ed" was the term they used to describe children with unique learning styles, behavioral issues or learning disabilities. I had some amazing teachers in my day. One in particular was Dr. Kent. I wish I could remember his first name so that I could give him the proper honor he deserves here. He was an elderly man and started teaching in the public school system way back in the late 1920's. He had such a different perspective of teaching, more so than any of my other professors at Delaware State College. His stories were magical. He had high expectations for us as future teachers and set an amazing example. He was one of the first African American students to attend his college in Ohio. His philosophy of being a teacher was very Charlotte Mason/classical ed with a sweetness and compassion for his young students. He cherished the young mind and believed in play, in music, in art and poetry. He embraced individuals and honored the quirks and idiosyncrasies of his students. It has been more than 18 years since I sat in his class and I can say that he was a great teacher. His style of teaching and the classrooms that he created have all but vanished from the public school landscape and what a shame that is for the millions of students that spend most of their life within those walls.

I read the first section of the Comstock book in preparation for our lesson. She writes; " Nature study should be so much a part of the child's thought and interest that it will naturally form a thought core for other subjects quite unconsciously on his part...it is legitimate and excellent training as long as the pupil does not discover that he is correlating...and if later his teacher had asked him to write for her an account of some part of it, because she wished to know what he discovered, the chances are that he would have written his story joyfully and with a certain pride..." (p. 16) and "If questions do not inspire the child to investigate, they are useless. To grind out answers to questions about any natural object is not nature-study, it is simply 'grind'..." (p.22) I only quote this because that is exactly what happened in our little room in the middle of the forest yesterday. We watched the chickens, we looked at the feathers, we talked, I told him about the feathers as if it were my story. A fire grew in his eyes and he took off. We had been reading Edith Horton's journal so he had an idea of how he wanted to create his and drew pictures and wrote descriptions and couldn't wait to share his journal with his friends at oration day. He even said to me, "Look how much I wrote! I didn't copy it or have to be told and I tried to use all the big words I knew so I would sound like a palaeontologist."

That is beauty in motion. That is why I homeschool. That is the fruit on the tree. He loves to learn, it is enough, he is doing well, I am a good teacher.

That is the question I ask myself and agonize over as a homeschool teacher/parent "Am I enough?" and the answer is YES!

The turn of a century....

2009-04-16T07:56:00.009-04:00

As I watched the movie Miss Austen Regrets last night I was reminded of how solitary life could be for a woman of the past. The social constraints were like chains for many until well after we fought for our right to vote. If a woman wanted to learn, to be independent, to be active outside of the home, she was considered by many to be different, difficult. I thought about the postcard to Veda Maud and how she conveyed in words her loneliness. It seemed to me that she felt isolated, she missed the women in her life, even the company of a passer-by.

It wasn't just the big battles that freed us, it was the little, everyday things that women changed by putting their reputations, their family connections, their financial security at risk so that they could live life more fully, defined more by themselves and less by "society". Thank you to those brave women who walked through the door first and left it open for the rest of us.

Some of the social mores were born out of the need for security and evolved into definitions of how a proper young lady should behave. Without a man to do her business a woman lived outside of the margins of "society". That is where most women lived. There were more poor, working, tenants than handsome, landed mistresses of beautiful Victorian houses. The old shacks fell down, the beautiful houses were maintained. Class structure ruled the day.

Work was hard too. Just think about our water. A woman hauled every drop of water that she needed, unless there was a child old enough to help. It was considered women's work to fetch the water and women spent most of their time indoors using it. Life was labor intensive. I read that at a "North Carolina Farmer's Alliance meeting in 1886 they calculated that one woman in attendance walked 6,068 miles from her outdoor pump to the kitchen (60 yards from her door) in the 41 years she lived in her home". * She walked to the pump anywhere from 6 to 10 times a day. Women also carried the dirty water back out too. It wasn't until the mid-1920's that most homes in the U.S. even had indoor plumbing.

*from Strasser, Susan. Never done: A history of American housework. NY, Henry Holt & Co. 1982. p.86.

The children. The lovely, sweet, innocent children.

Our son is the sun we revolve around, we are drawn to his every word, his very being like an apple to the ground. He is our joy, our light, the heart in our home.

These are the pictures of everyday things and the images of the people who share the journey.

And, the animals. What a luxury it was and is to have a horse. Pigs, yes; cows maybe; chickens, definitely; horses, if you were lucky. I found some amazing pictures of the family horse. People were proud of their horses, they were a symbol of success. But, most people walked everywhere they went, horses were expensive to keep. I imagine how different my life would be if I walked every where. I would be healthier for the walking I am sure.

The entire economic structure of the U.S. changed around the turn of the century. Mass production made our tools and food cheaper. More people could live a better life. More people left the farm and traded their time for money. They had a chance to get things that before might have been out of reach. But oh, the price we pay for unbridled growth and "prosperity". It seems every nook and cranny of our beautiful planet is polluted by our success. It seems that the things that were offered to us in our journey towards more free time may in fact be killing us or making us sick and sterile. And what about the animals? What gives us dominion over them? How can we ever make amends? What things can we give up? How much do we really need? Can we as a massive population in a hindered, crippled economy find the middle way? Are we ready to be honest about our consumption?

Peace, namaste.

For Veda Maud

2009-04-15T22:29:00.010-04:00

"Dear W. I went to Morrisville yesterday to see about a coat at a sale. Did not get one. Guess I'll wait now and see yours. Tell me when it comes please. We were over to Rufies Gun. Had a nice visit. They all seemed so glad to think we come. Dina dressed up in white. R. played on his violin. I am piecing for quilts, finished 50 blocks to-day. Wish you lived near. Cora & Vesta & baby were over at Wills to day. I did not know it till they got bye going home. She always used to stop but never does now. Comes over quite often Why she never stops now I dont know. I would like to seen baby & all. Sometimes I get some lonesome to see Jericho. If there was snow we would go as R. has got to see to the pump & some other things down there. Uncle Henry wrote me his wife is improving in different ways, please tell [H]astie the good news. Come over & write. Card is for ducklin with a kiss."

A very early embossed card I got for one dollar. How sweet. I have been piecing a quilt but I can say that I did not finish 50 blocks today. I still wish you lived near. We weren't meant to go it alone, even with our electric machines that save time. We miss the hands that carry, the hands that help, the hands that hold. The voices that sing, the voices that whisper, the voices that soothe. Maybe not every woman back then was blessed with strong, loving and supportive women in their home or in their lives especially when they were so dependent on help. The world has changed but we still need each other, why not start a quilting bee, a knitting circle, a kaffee klatch? Why not pop in to a nursing home, a soup kitchen, or just stop by the neighbor's house? We need to stay close to the women in our lives, to lend a hand, to speak from our hearts. My heart goes out to the lonesome.

Peace

My amazing girlfriend Stelladanza researched Winnie M. Lamonda and found that she was born in about 1882 in Canada. Her husband Hartson P. Lamonda was born about 1875 and they lived together in Hyde Park, Vermont in 1920. Veda Maud was her 6 year old daughter and yes, Winnie could read and write. Danke liebschen....

Unconditional Love...

2009-04-12T17:07:00.013-04:00

Unconditional Love

"Look forward to your transition. It's the first time you will experience unconditional love. There will be all peace and love, and all nightmares and the turmoil you went through in your life will be like nothing. When you make your transition, you will be asked two things basically: How much love have you been able to give and receive, and how much service have you rendered. And you will know every consequence of every deed, every thought, and every word you have ever uttered. And that is symbolically speaking, going through hell when you see the many chances you have missed. But you also see how a nice act of kindness has touched hundreds of lives that you're totally unaware of.

So concentrate on love while you're still around, and teach your children early unconditional love. So remember, concentrate on love and look forward to the transition. It's the most beautiful experience you can ever imagine.

Vaya con Dios!"

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, MD

from a cd entitled Graceful Passages Instrumentals

Happy faces of sunshine, renewed hope, new journeys,

peaceful hearts, kind wishes.....

New pillows for spring

2009-04-12T09:14:00.012-04:00

I have been busy the last few days setting up my sewing room.

As I organized my closet, the place where all of my stacks hide, I sorted my unfinished projects in order of importance. The first on my pile were these pillows. I bought these amazing pillow shams at the farmers market two summers ago and have kept them ready ever since. I love the vintage Indian fabric stitched together with all of their needle work, beading and glimmer. I also have a purse and skirt. So fun and colorful. Anyway, I ordered some amazing, luscious, thick eco wool batting that is a lofty 1" thick at least. I made the pillow covers in left over scraps of muslin and linen and slipped them in the sham.

I feel they add just the right color and texture to our ever changing landscape

here in my world.

A bit of the exotic in a very old, traditional cape cod.

While junking the other day I found these wonderful, very old, well worn, well loved, and soft as kid glove, shoes. They were only $11, wow, and best of all they fit! So when I make my linen- Elizabeth Bennet - empire waist - silk embroidered dress I will have the perfect shoes. All I need are new laces (they had another pair too, tall, black and just as soft....hmmmm?)

I pray for peace, calm hearts and open minds in the world. It is a new day, with a new way, a new president who makes my heart sing. May all of your days be filled with peace, joy and inner strength. Namaste this Easter Day......

The farm

2009-04-11T09:44:00.015-04:00

We enjoyed two warm days of sunshine and now we have rain. April showers bring May flowers, it is all a part of the cycle of life. So, my pictures capture the overcast skies but, that is the beauty isn't it?

The chickens are doing well and ready to emerge from the coop my husband and brother built last fall. The ground is thawing and we are now able to dig the post holes for the permanent yard we want to put up.

We plan on moving our flock around the pasture this spring and summer behind the grazers but for now we need a yard for them to play in. We love our little coop, we built it from scavenged wood and windows. The frame and siding came from a shed we took down on the property and reassembled farther back in the yard. We did buy the feeders, hinges and chicken wire though. We built the nesting boxes out of the old bread drawers from this kitchen and used the drawer runners as legs. The hens didn't lay in them open but, instead went under them. So, I built a little box to fit on top from left over wood from the barn. We put the coop at the back of the yard facing south, it is very sunny and perfect for our girls and guy. So far we get about 8 eggs a day. Our flock is currently 9 hens and 1 rooster, his name is Rex. We let the kids name them this summer. Spotty, Whitey, Cat, Katie, Bander, and Smokey are the original girls. We adopted three geriatric girls, Petra, Juana and Maria in early November. Juana and Maria were renamed by my niece, Lauren, at Christmas. She calls them Katie Kate and Katie Kate Katie. She also named our Rhode Island Red Katie, and wanted us to call her Katie so I think it is safe to assume she LOVES the name Katie. We have been getting one giant egg a day, looks like a duck egg with deformities in the shell. I read that it is a sign of an older layer. We all change when we age don't we? The book recommends culling her from the flock, but there won't be any of that here, she is staying. I just love her for laying her eggs. We had to separate Petra from the flock and put her in the hospital cage. It is always a good idea to have a back up small coop for the sick birds way ahead of time. The flock picked on Petra and started to pull out her feathers. They became so aggressive that she had sores on her wings and was getting roughed up regularly. That started when I went to the hospital. I think the protein balance was off, too much scratch. We give them scrapes from the veggies too and half of a cabbage a day. I keep Petra's hospital room right next to the coop and they talk back and forth all day. Once we get the yard fence up I will reintroduce Petra.

Late last night when I couldn't sleep I read through the book "Smale-Scale Livestock Farming" by Carol Ekarius. We were inspired by Joel Salatin's book a few years ago and now that we actually live on the land we want to be good stewards, there is so much to learn. It was a quick read and I liked the author's voice. I liked the formulas for animal units per acreage and the little stories about "real" people on their farms. The book gives you basic, light information on every thing from the roots of grass farming to marketing , animal husbandry, goal setting and planning, it is definitely worth checking out of the library. I am kinda nerdy so I like the worksheets, balance sheets and budgets. There is even a few pages with details about butchering chickens. So now I am going to sink my teeth into "Grass Productivity" by Andre Voisin. There is a lot of beef in that book.

We have been reading so much about making our own soil for the raised beds we just built. We used the left over wood from our barn to build them. It is locally milled, rough sawn pine. We moved in on May 25 last year with our seedlings in tow. We had an unusually rainy - cool summer and with the hard pan soil, rocks and huge granite shelves we had a lot of water pooling on the surface of the garden. This year we built 14"h x 12'l x 4' w raised beds. I have re-read Michael Guerra's book "The Edible Container Garden" to add food in pots and last autumn when I took the class with Dave Jacke I bought "Perennial Vegetables" by Eric Toensmeier. We have been very busy reading in the evenings, walking the land in the days and talking a lot about our goals and our dreams while doing our chores. It feels magical. An Edible Forest with animals all around. We are doing our homework now for the greenhouse. I just treated myself to Eliot Coleman's new book "The Winter Harvest Handbook". Since we have the E-Classic outdoor wood boiler we will have access to heat for the greenhouse too. Baby steps for sure.

The horse was feeling her oats today too. She ran up and down the field bucking and snorting. Her head held high. She is very spunky for a Belgian. She ended up having an abscess in her hoof so the vet came to the farm and cut it out. We think she got it from the sand in the field. Her hoof is packed with Ichthammol and wrapped in duck tape. Man that stuff really holds. She weighs around 1,400 lbs in the rain and even in the mud that tape is still there.

The woodpecker is back. I think he is a Yellow-Bellied Sap Sucker?, not sure yet, will update later. He has a small red patch on his throat and head. I didn't see any yellow on his breast and his wing feathers are speckled with lots of white. Maybe you would know? He sits on the old antennae on our roof and taps out his song on the old hollow aluminum post to attract the females . He was here last year too, we were so excited when we heard him again. Watching and listening to him I was reminded of our beloved homeschool reading books, "The Burgess Bird Book for Children" and "The Burgess Animal Book for Children". They are our read aloud book for nature studies. I love the narrative; Mother Nature talking to the animals, teaching them about each other. Most of all I love the drawings my son does and the stories he tells about the animals. He has learned so much about animal identification from those stories. They have filled his heart and imagination with the knowledge and love of all animals. And while you are at it, read "Among the Farmyard People" by Clara D. Pierson too (check out the entire series). www.YesterdaysClassics.com has so many lovely books. We love our Enki/Charlotte Mason/WTM curriculums, it is such a blend of beauty, wonderment, and great literature. It is a gift to me to teach it.

Peace, on a rainy day on the farm surrounded by life.....

Unfurl...

2009-04-10T15:55:00.010-04:00

A time of renewal, rebirth. April is here again. The story of Easter was born out of darkness and then light, it begins with a journey to the end. It is story of love, fear, darkness, pain and at last, rebirth. It is a story each of us have lived in some form in our own lives. Accepting the darkness as part of the journey supports us on the path to living a more peaceful life. Eostre, the Saxon Great Mother Goddess of fertility, spring and dawn, appeared with her basket of colored eggs after the Sun God rode across the sky in his chariot. It is an ancient celebration of death and life, dark and light, winter and spring, birth and rebirth. The journey can be hard, painful, terrifying, sad, heart wrenching actually, and then with eyes up, heart open, there is light, there is joy, there is love. Being able to let go of the clutch, release the clinging and breathe, I know there is light. It is the balance.

(British Solider Lichens, Cladonia cristatella ?)

tiny, miniature forests

This moment now is the moment.

Spring is like that too. There is a strong, palatable sense of renewal in April in New England. The warm sun feels like a tangible entity, a sacred gift, the blessing that unfurls the blades of grass, the buds on the vine, the leaves on the trees. The awakening life around me is responding to a whispered song that is so deeply familiar, ancient and very sacred. I can hear its melody. The forest that surrounds my house is the cathedral, the spring peepers and birds are the choir. I hear the sermon of the wind and the raging water in the creek. I have faith in this world, I feel the abandoned love of a child, I am swept away by joy. I have been given this gift of life, some how, with a guided hand, my tumor was found just in time to save me from neurological demise. I have been given a gift that I want to cherish, to make the most of, always. I am aware of the power and the promise and I am deeply grateful. Every breath, every thought I have is because of this second chance, the door is open and I say yes as I walk through it. No more closed eyes or silent spirit. No longer weighted as much by ego or the consciousness of my reality. I try to become more whole, I am more whole. There is only life, love, breath, connection to others and passion. There is a fire burning here on the edge of the forest, on the edge of the hollow, dancing around the golden-red flames singing as the grass blades unfurl and the babies are born and the sun warms the earth. Life begins again, reborn. This beautiful blue planet spins and turns around in her own dance as I reach up, arms wide open in a total embrace of life, my life, and your life.

Unfurl....peace.

2009-04-05T19:46:00.009-04:00

Last week the house was all abuzz with excitement about the impending arrival of our beloved Mum, grand-mum extraordinaire. I fixed up the little guest room next to the homeschool room that once belonged to Alice Bellows. She slept and dreamt there from sometime around 1880 until after 1910. She was 16 years old when she first appeared on the census and lived and worked here until she was well past 46 years old. A life in the same space a century apart. What did she look like? How did her days unfold? Was she appreciated? What did she do in her spare time? Did she ever fall in love? Most of her life was spent here on the edge of the hollow walking across the same fields, breathing the same mountain air.

Here are a few pictures of the school room since we painted it "Light Lichen" by Safecoat. I wanted to use something gentler, cleaner, kinder on the walls. And in the bedroom? Amy Butler fabric clipped to an Ikea wire curtain rod, my old green oak side table and candles. I wanted Mum to feel like a princess. Our bathroom was finished just in time too. I call it my California-zen-old-house-peace room. It is a work in progress. We have left the old white pine sub-floors exposed and used galvanized electric conduits to hook up the lights. It is kinda funky and kinda old, we are so happy that our imagination was not too far out there, it feels earthy, just as we had hoped it would. You never know for sure...but it is taking shape, developing a wonderful sense of space. We breathe in, we breathe out, ahhhh.