~Fair Winds~

Fun find and white wash..!

2012-02-20T19:34:00.000-05:00

At a yard sale a summer or two ago I found this funky piece of wood. I think it was once the ornamental back piece of a sideboard. I paid $30 for it and brought it home. I loved it, but wasn't sure what in the world I would do with it. Recently, after re-arranging a lot of furniture, I found the perfect spot. However, the piece needed some adaptations... I wanted a shelf added to it, and since the wood had been stripped and left bare, I had to decide some sort of finish for it. My talented and kind friend Philip generously made me a wonderful shelf. That left me with only the decision of how to finish the piece.

If you've read my blog before you might remember that I am rather fond of... WHITE. My husband calls this "the decorating color of the uninspired." But I just like that absence of color thing! I got a wild idea and looked up on line how to whitewash. The site I found told me to merely mix 1 part water with 2 parts of white paint. I gave it a whirl, working on the back of the piece first to see how it looked. I liked it. A lot.

My sweet husband helped me hang my wonderful new treasure. It was no easy feat, the wall was made of some funky old plaster mix and it took us more than one try before we acheived sweet success!

Now this lovely white washed find hangs in the front room, a unique and funky thing. It holds wonderful crystal votives and when I look at I am infused with delight. Part of the fun in decorating the way I do is that each unique piece holds the memory of the hunt, the fun of creating something out of not much, and the pride in the finished product.

Window Dressing...

2012-02-13T21:49:00.000-05:00

I have long been fascinated by windows. I like to peek into the windows of houses as I drive past, catching a glimpse of the light and the curtains and perhaps a bit of what is inside the house. I admit it; I'm nosy.

I've recently realized that many windows at my house are decorated in some way. Lots of them sport prisms suspended to catch the sun rays. Depending on the time of day and position of the sun I usually have rainbows dancing on the walls and ceilings of at least one room. Antique bottles are naturals on sills, and bird nests and bird figures seem to be at home in the space that unites indoors with out. Of course, as I look at these pictures I think how very much my windows need washing, but most of all I think that the ornamentation of these spaces is simply pretty. I am blessed to have lovely views outside all my windows. The little things I put there merely accent and frame the vistas and add to the delight.

The Cat...

2012-02-12T10:52:00.003-05:00

Catfish Hunter came to live with us in November. He was not terribly impressed with the move, at first, but he seems to have settled in nicely. He is huge. He stalks the house with a regal air, and morning and evening demands food in a firm tone. In between times he arranges himself rather elegantly in picturesque spots as he did here; on the kitchen table enjoying the sun and the perfume from the Narcissus. I don't think he has caught a mouse since he arrived, but then again, we haven't seen any rodent calling cards, either. Perhaps that is not a coincidence.We hadn't really wanted a cat, but we are glad to have this big guy here, filling the house with his rumbling purr and looking quite fetching on the antiques.

The Artist and "normal"...

2012-02-09T20:45:00.001-05:00

I went to an artists house today. A bright, colorful woman who shares her little house tucked into the woods with an exuberant golden retriever. Everywhere I looked there were touches of lovely. She was smart and creative and kind. My favorite part of the visit was when I mentioned how much I liked her 1950's metal lawn chair, crusted in ice and abandoned in the yard. She looked at it fondly and said, "I love it, too. But my son tells me I have to get rid of it, that it is a piece of junk." Her eyes filled with sorrow as she looked at me. "My son? He is... normal." I could see this pained her deeply. And it made me smile all day long.

What a "date" looks like...

2012-02-06T19:34:00.004-05:00

This has been a mild winter by anyone in Maine's standard. And today we had a lovely, sunny day with temperatures in the 30's. Chris and I did some creative things at home, got a few chores under our belt, and then ran some errands. And there is where the magic happens. We will celebrate our 28th wedding anniversary next month, but get the two of us in a car with no set agenda and it's like we are zapped back in time. Chris hooks his iPhone up to the stereo and plays whatever music he is in the mood for that he thinks I'll like. We open up the sun roof, crank the heat, hold hands. Sometimes we chat, sometimes we ride in companionable silence. In between dropping printer cartridges off to be recycled, getting a new watch battery and picking up vacuum bags we slipped in a trip to Rockland harbor.Chris grabbed a couple bags of popcorn. We walked out on a pier and soon were surrounded. There was the squabbling of gulls and the pretty cooing of pigeons all around us. The sun shone down and the wind was still, so it almost felt warm. We took turns taking pictures. I really like this one, a young gull heading in off the water, ready for some popcorn. There were people walking nearby, and others sitting in their cars admiring the view of the harbor, but for a slice of time it felt like it was just the two of us, and the birds and the sun glinting off the water. A car ride, some popcorn and some time alone. That is what a date looks like. And we like it just that way.

Embracing late winter...

2012-01-29T10:27:00.001-05:00

After the bright Christmas season winter looms long and dark here in Maine. I have learned ways to make the months pleasant. I find myself visiting my favorite local green house often, breathing in the warm, oddly tropical air and the scent of dirt and growing things; basking in the warmth from the sun and the wood-fired heater. A trip there sends my brain tripping along to gardening dreams, and reminds me that spring is coming. I also bring flowers in the house. They are a splurge that borders on a soul necessity for me. An orchid delights on the table in the front room, paper white narcissus are blooming in an antique tureen on the kitchen table, and tulips glow under the oil painting of my daughter as a toddler. I pour over gardening catalogs, plotting what we will try to grow when the ground thaws, and study the hatchery web pages, gleefully choosing what variety of baby chicks to order for April delivery. Meanwhile I cook hearty winter foods like beef stew and creamy soups, enjoy the dancing flames in the glass fronted wood stove,and indulge in projects around the house. Sometimes I get into the winter groove so deeply I grow a bit nostalgic when the first signs of spring show up in bird song and bud swells. But I get over that!

Things that make me laugh...

2012-01-23T20:15:00.000-05:00

Monday is traditionally my "writing day." I work on articles for magazines, presentations for public speaking and creative stuff. I am prone to huddling up in my bedroom office with classical music, a stash of cold Diet Coke, a pile of dogs snoring on the bed and (in winter!) a space heater making the place sauna hot. My family knows to leave me alone. My daughter is 22 and an amusing little minx. Today she was in extreme HELPFUL mode. While I wrote I could hear her doing dishes, running the vacuum, tidying up. I smelled floor cleaner and knew she was mopping, heard her toss in laundry and busy herself with chores that I consider to be "mine." I was grateful to my core. Then... I heard giggles. I am attracted to giggles with a magnetic-like force. I love many things, and a good laugh is very high on my list of favorites. So I got up from my desk and went to investigate. And I found... a chicken in the house. The dogs looked puzzled. The chicken looked entranced. What could I do but join in the laughs and grab my camera?Adventure Chicken was ousted after she made a deposit on the freshly washed kitchen floor. She had the last laugh!

Old stuff...

2012-01-22T21:24:00.000-05:00

Years and years ago my sister and I took our young daughters and went "junkin'." This is a time-honored family tradition, passed down from our mother and our paternal grandmother, as well. There is something in our blood that makes us love poking around in antique stores and flea markets, yard sales and rummage bins. My niece, Aimee, was only about 16 at the time. She saw a funky old baking cabinet and plunked down her baby sitting cash. I thought it was adorable and felt a little jealous that the piece was hers. Fast forward and it seems my niece no longer had a place for the cabinet in her life. We worked out a trade and I hauled the old thing home. My husband and daughter looked at me as if I'd lost my mind when they helped me unload it from my truck. The expressions on their faces clearly said, "What a mess!"

I sanded the top, trying to erase years of damage and water stains. Then I wiped a light coating of stain over the thirsty wood.

After the stain dried I rubbed the top with wax, buffed it off and repeated. I lined the drawers and the whole thing looked much improved. Then I placed the top piece on, gave it a swipe and a polish and neatly arranged all my baking supplies.

I could feel my mother with me as I worked. She loved little more than rearranging furniture and sprucing things up. It was from her that I learned the term, "rob Peter to pay Paul." She'd put her capable hands on her hips and tip her head to one side, going from room to room and swapping out furniture from one part of the house to place in another. We kids would be enlisted, shoving sofas, rolling up rugs and taking paintings off one wall to put on another. Much chaos was created in the process, but soon order would reign and everything would look fresh and bright and clean. She also taught me how to do rudimentary furniture refinishing... nothing fancy, but enough to make old and crummy look... old and wonderful. And that is my decorating style in a nutshell; old stuff and "junk," things with a past that fit just right in my present.

The Pantry Project...

2012-01-16T10:11:00.000-05:00

I love the lay out of our little house. It is old, (built in 1907) and quirky, but generally very livable. There is a small space off the living room that we turned into my husbands "office" when we moved in. He put 4 large book cases in there, a huge "L" shaped desk, file cabinet, and other office type items. And he painted in dark red. I am a white paint kind of person, and the red hurt my feelings every time I looked at it. The office became a clutter catch all, and when my husband got a laptop and sent his desk top computer off to the Goodwill store, he did most of his work at the dining room table. For several years I've kept the door shut on this room and tried to pretend it wasn't there. I won't post a "before" photo, it was too awful.Then my husband and I decided it would be wonderfully nice to have a pantry. We both love to cook, and enjoy the feeling of having a good bit of food put up so we always have what we want or need on hand. We decided the funny little room would make a dandy pantry. Little by little my sweet husband has been whittling away at his office, moving things out, thinning down his stuff and tossing a lot of it. This weekend my sweet, SWEET sister came to "visit." Sunday morning we were up bright and early. We pulled out the remaining items from the room, washed the walls, and went to work with paint brushes and rollers. We gave the ceiling a nice fresh coat of paint, then freshened up the white trim work and with great glee painted over the offensive red. After we got one coat on everything we took a little break and popped into a local antique shop, had a bite to eat and then came back and attacked the room with a second coat. Once that was done we put all our tools away, and scrubbed the floor on our hands and knees, getting up the paint splatters. We are NOT tidy painters! While the floor dried we assembled a wonderful wire shelf, then with a measuring tape in hand wandered the house looking to find what other items would be handy to have in a pantry. My husband and daughter had seen the look of determination in our eyes and had scurried off to a movie before they could be roped into helping. They are smart! Next we moved in the storage shelves and then carefully organized canned goods, flour, rice, corn meal, oil, squash, onions, etc. We moved kitchen tools that are not used every day out of my poor, crowded cabinets and arranged them neatly. China and glassware and spare flatware all found new homes. At the end of the day we were tired but imbued with the feeling of a job very well done. There is room to put our spare refrigerator and our huge chest freezer in here, so those will get moved soon. Now when I look in the room and see the neatness and order I feel so very happy.

Adventure Chicken Rides Again...

2012-01-12T09:29:00.002-05:00

My chickens have nice lives. They have access to almost 2 acres of fenced yard to wander in, scratch around and explore. They have a custom made coop that is bright and clean, insulated and cozy. Plenty of food and a lovely electrified water bowl to insure they have a nice drink on even the coldest of days. Most of them appear to be more than content with this set up. Then there is Adventure Chicken. This chicken has a restless spirit. For the longest time she'd hop the fence every day to explore the front yard, scratch in the herb garden, and if possible duck into the messy garage to lay her egg somewhere we'd never find it. My husband found this vexing and spent a good bit of time plotting ways to keep this bird where she belonged. On the other hand, I found her antics totally charming. I admired her pluck. This fall she stopped her wanderings and stayed with the rest of the flock. It made me a little sad. Then a few days ago my husband called to me, "Look at my car!" I glanced outside and saw my wayward hen perched on the hood of his Subaru, checking things out. Adventure chicken rides again! She has been nipping away from the other birds all week, going places she shouldn't and making me smile.

2012-01-06T21:01:00.000-05:00

On my day off, I did a little cleaning and decorating.

Made some very nice roasted squash and pumpkin soup.

Took the dogs out for a romp.

And bid a sad but fond farewell to Tiger Lilly, the bad, bad boxer who has been with us for 14 years. She was a 9th birthday gift to our daughter. Smarter than the average dog she will live on in the stories we tell of her escapades; stealing a bag of flour and shaking it all over the back yard, destroying FIVE cast iron skillets, opening the oven to steal a huge pan full of BBQ'd pork ribs and opening a door by twisting the knob to get into trash- on more occasions than we can count. She has also been a faithful companion, staunch guardian, snuggle buddy and good friend. She was bossy, opinionated, food driven and delightful. We will all miss her, a lot.

2012-01-05T21:43:00.002-05:00

Oh the excitement of my life! It is probably a bit more than you can imagine, but I simply must share. Today the mail lady brought me... worms!

250 of them, in fact. They were cold. And hungry and thirsty. But I tucked them into the wonderful Vermicomposter that I got for Christmas from co-worker Cassie. (It was JUST what I wanted!) I had plenty of food in there for them, and snugged their new home near enough to the wood stove that it was cozy. Well, as cozy as a bin full of damp, shredded newspaper and sphagnum moss and partially rotted vegetables can be. I gave them a drink, as instructed, and covered them up under some damp newspaper.After a while they began to stretch and wiggle. They looked... happier, somehow. I keep peeking. If all goes well the happy worms will eat up much of our kitchen waste... carrot peels, old potatoes, celery leaves and such. And they'll turn it all into marvelous compost for my garden. It's going to be great. So, now you can see why I was SO very excited today when the mail lady gave me worms.

Warm gift...

2012-01-01T10:52:00.002-05:00

Friends Scott and Marion came over last night for a New Years Eve supper. They brought a wonderful, creative gift... two huge buckets, one filled with carefully cut kindling wood, and the other filled with bundles of dry pine twigs and a pine cone, artfully tied with baling twine. This morning I used a bundle and some kindling to get the wood stove going in no time flat. This is the sort of creative gift that just tickles me.

Changing things up...

2011-12-30T13:46:00.000-05:00

In the center of my beautiful dining room table I have a collection of crystal candlesticks. They are different shapes and styles, and I love how when the sun streams through my window a thousand tiny rainbows dance on the walls and ceiling. Yesterday when I was putting Christmas decorations away I moved some things around. I replaced the dining room candles with a huge white platter and an old fashioned oil lamp. It looks simple, fresh and clean.

Then I shined up the crystal and moved the candle sticks to the window in my kitchen. Last night I lit the candles while I cooked and every time I glanced at that table I felt a happy smile creep up on me. Sometimes just moving things around and changing the way you look at them renews the way you see your world. As I prepare to turn the last page on the calendar that was 2011 I have decided to change things up more in the coming year. I am betting my world will look even more beautiful.

And the stockings were hung by the ...

2011-12-26T20:16:00.001-05:00

Tiger Lilly the very old Boxer, has been around for 13 Christmas mornings. She knows that those funny socks we hang suddenly sprout toys and treats. When we hang them, she makes a habit of checking them often. On Christmas day her diligence is rewarded. She shows the other dogs that there is something to be excited about. This year there was quite a LOT to be excited about. After our beloved traditional Christmas morning at home, we loaded the three of us and FIVE dogs into Chris' little Subaru. It was a tight squeeze! Then we headed south, over icy roads, through lovely falling snow, to Massachusetts. Because... I went HOME for Christmas. At the age of 51, I am one of the few people I know who can still go HOME... to a house where I lived from birth till college, to a home my father built by hand. My sister and her husband live there now. There were three sisters there this year, with kids and dogs and significant others. There was roast beef cooked to perfection, and music and amazing seasonal decorations. All of this was stirred with laughter and gifts and hugging and pleasant conversation. It was very, VERY good.

I have not been there at Christmas for 23 years or more. I was determined to create traditions of our own for our little family, and I did. When we had a baby I wanted her Christmas memories to be centered at HOME. I didn't want her to remember flitting from place to place, house to house, with no time to play with what Santa brought her. We have had lovely holidays at home, and we have treasured them. Going away was a break in those traditions, but a good one. On the way out of Boxford, Massachusetts this morning we stopped by the cemetery to visit my parents, grandparents and other loved ones. I thanked them for the roots that are my very foundation, and for the warm home to come back to. I paid tribute to the past, was grateful for the present, and took a quiet moment to look, expectantly, to the future. A future that hangs, with care. Much like Lilly the Boxer, who looks often at the stockings, I look towards tomorrow with great expectation.

White Christmas...

2011-12-23T06:49:00.001-05:00

I woke before my 5:00 AM alarm this morning. It is my last day of work before a nice winter break, and there is much to do! When I sleepily opened the door to let the dogs out this is the scene that greeted me. The tune, "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" marched, unbidden, into my brain. I put my favorite Christmas music on as I worked and watched the snow dancing in the predawn. All is calm, all is WHITE. I baked three loaves of gift bread that had risen next to the wood stove while I slept. I also made two big pans of pasta shells stuffed with a 3 cheese mixture. Quart bags of homemade tomato sauce that I had nestled into the freezer in August topped the shells. One pan will go to work for our annual Christmas party tonight, the other will be for our Christmas Eve feast tomorrow.A bag of carefully wrapped gifts is waiting by the door to go to work. Today promises to be long and rich and full. The festivities are in full swing.

Solstice...

2011-12-22T22:05:00.002-05:00

Today is the first day of winter. Only 90 days till spring!

Good light...

2011-12-20T22:05:00.001-05:00

When I arise in the morning it is pre-dawn. As I drive home from work at 4:30 in the afternoon, it is dark again. People complain about the brevity of winter days, they say it depresses them. Not me. I enjoy coming home over the unlit road and seeing our little home, the windows illuminated by flickering candles. Those little lights glimmering through the gloom are so welcoming. When I come inside the first thing I do is open the vent on the wood stove and toss a couple of logs in. Soon there are dancing flames to delight my soul and warm my body. Then I illuminate "real" candles around the house.When sunlight becomes a rarity during the long, dark, resting days of winter the light cast from flames touches something deep and primal in my soul. Fire on the hearth or the table is good light. Warm, soft and enticing, it encourages me to sit within the limits of its glow and just be still.

Believe...

2011-12-15T21:36:00.001-05:00

What I love about this season is the BELIEVING. Or... as someone I treasure once said, "The suspension of disbelief." We can believe that people can be a little sweeter, kinder, nicer, more thoughtful. We can believe in the WONDER of a baby born in Bethlehem. Or even in the magic of Santa.

One thing I believe is that I'll make many, many loaves of bread. I've given out many so far this month... to the guys who sold us our Christmas tree, to some customers and neighbors and friends. I have more to bake, the starter is fed and bubbling on the counter. I delight in surprising people with a loaf of home made goodness. I believe in generosity.

Lilly, almost 14 years old, (ancient for a Boxer; her muzzle used to be deepest black) believes, with every fiber of her being, that Life is Good. Tonight I gave her, the alpha dog, the one and only good soup bone I had available. She looked at me, incredulous. She looked at the other dogs, haughty. Then she spent a happy hour gnawing and licking and making yummy noises.

And you? What do YOU believe in?

Pretty things...

2011-12-14T20:09:00.001-05:00

Here are some lovely things from around our holiday house to share with you.

The ancient hutch in the front room is laden with little lights and Christmas decorations. My two favorites are here. My daughter made figures of Mary, baby Jesus and two lovely angels when she was in high school. I treasure them. In the next photo is another prize... a nativity scene made by my friend Kathy; one of the first people I met when I moved to Memphis with our tiny infant. Kathy was a lifeline for me during a lonely time, and I think of her often, especially when I carefully unpack these sweet ceramic figures every December.

The tree this year is decorated rather simply... white lights, little icicle ornaments, crocheted snowflakes and antique crystals (which I gleefully purchased at a variety of antique/junk stores.) It reminds us of starry night and snow and smells like heaven.

The bottom photo shows some knitting projects my daughter and I have been working on. The purple and blue items are shawls we knit as gifts for some very special people, and the top, frothy looking item is a wonderful scarf which is still "in progress."

We had a visitor once who made my heart sing when she said, "Everywhere I look in your house there is something beautiful to admire." I try to remember this when I am focusing on the dust bunnies and clutter and doggy nose prints on the windows. There is so much pretty here to focus on instead.

Plenty and Grace...

2011-12-13T20:50:00.000-05:00

This little sign hangs outside the door of our home. I find it to be a wonderful, simple blessing.

This time of year our home is bursting with plenty. The harvest of chickens, ducks, lamb, pork and (soon!) beef is tucked into the huge chest freezer. A smaller freezer is full of squash, carrots, beans, blueberries and quart bags stuffed full of tomato sauce made on a steaming day in August.
Now in December we've been scurrying around for weeks squirreling away gifts for each other for Christmas. Thoughtful things that we hope will delight are wrapped with love and tucked under the boughs of a fresh evergreen tree.
Best of all there is the coming together each evening after a long day at work. The ease and comfort of good companionship, pleasant conversation and companionable silences. That is the grace.
How I love to be in this place.

Decking...

2011-12-04T19:43:00.001-05:00

The decking of the "halls" has commenced. Today I gussied up a plain wreath I bought a few days ago. I found these awesome hand-made felt birds at a local store for under $4. each. I snapped up one of each variety and carefully wired them on. Added a little sheer gold ribbon and voila! A smile worthy door decoration. I hung a sweet little illuminated angel in the high garage window, and my favorite Christmas flag is snapping in the wind by the door.

We also finished decorating the tree... going with a very simplistic theme this year. Normally we haul out every single ornament collected over our entire marriage, all the little hand made things from our daughters childhood, a mish mash collection of colors and shapes and sizes. This year we decided to go for a rather simplistic approach; white lights, white crocheted snow flakes, little sparkly icicle ornaments and a bunch of antique crystals from an old chandelier that I found at a junk shop. It is very pretty!

There was much hauling of fire wood today. I don't mind the job, but my knees do. They ache after I have pushed a loaded wheelbarrow over the uneven ground from one side of the yard to the other over and over. A basement stacked full of good hard wood, though? That is decorating I can really warm up to!

Frosty mornings...

2011-12-02T20:24:00.001-05:00

This morning when the dogs and I streamed outside the world was coated in frost. We skidded over the deck and down the slick steps.

Then we went for a stroll around the meadow. The dogs were feeling feisty; leaping and dancing on the cold ground. Even Lilly, the ancient, arthritic Boxer, bounced and spun in the crisp air with her friend Dazzle poodle. Canine ballet.

The chickens and ducks were less than amused about the cold ground and frozen water bowls. I reminded them that this time of year is rarely as warm as it has been . They flipped me off. A few fistful's of sunflower seeds and some buckets of warm water, steaming in the morning air, placated them.

The bunny wisely hung out in the coop... on top of the deep bed of clean shavings. Her bowl of rabbit pellets was nearby... along with a carrot and some celery. And a nibble of bread. She LOVES bread.

Some of us love frosty mornings.

Let the season begin...

2011-12-01T22:04:00.001-05:00

When I flipped the calender to December, I let the season officially begin. I rebel against seeing Christmas glitz in stores in October, and do my best to let no carols touch my ears before the beginning of the month. But today all bets were off. My daughter and I donned matching red and green earrings shaped like the bulbs on a strand of lights, that FLASHED. Yes, yes we did. The dogs got dressed up in appropriate costumes, (much to their "delight") and we loaded the CD player at work up with seasonal music. And the magic began a little bit... that feeling. That feeling of happiness and anticipation and JOY. The excitement of planning gifts for people I care about. The plotting of baking goodies to share. The delight of seeing people blossom a bit this time of year, become a little warmer, a little sweeter and more thoughtful. It was a good day.

Glory...

2011-11-27T20:45:00.001-05:00

Driving through the Maine countryside on a recent errand I passed this place and snapped a shot. The old barn is huge, and snugged tight by the side of the road. I like to think of someone out there, on a ladder, carefully painting stars and stripes onto the ancient, thirsty wood. What made them think of this, and how did they execute their vision so perfectly? I am constantly fascinated by what motivates and inspires people to do the things they do.

Giving Thanks and more...

2011-11-26T20:55:00.001-05:00

The day before Thanksgiving we got snow. Lots of it... 9 inches or more. I spent the day indoors, cooking, cleaning, decorating and preparing for the feast. It was lovely watching the snow come down, listening to the wind howl around the house as the wood stove snapped. Peaceful.
Thanksgiving day dawned clear and the temperature soared. My sweet brother in law, John, helped out by clearing up the drive and walk ways. He soon got so warm he peeled his shirt off. I had to laugh when I saw him, surrounded by snow yet shirtless!

We cooked a total of FOUR birds. Here are the two we smoked; a home raised Muscovy duck on the left, and a locally grown heritage breed turkey on the right. Chris did the smoking and the birds were excellent! I also roasted two small turkeys, one a locally raised Broad Breasted White, (the type we all buy in stores) and the other a Heritage breed. The Heritage birds (more like wild types) have less breast meat, more dark meat, and a denser texture. I found the flavor to be superior.

Niece Aimee came with boyfriend Tim and baby Lucy, Flirt's puppy. There was a joyous reunion of mother and daughter, and they spent the entire visit playing and cuddling. It was fun to watch!

As always, Chris set up a giant trough full of ice, wine, soft drinks beer and more on the porch. My niece, Emily, brought AMAZING eggnog made at a farm near where she lives. The best EVER. Chris also set up a full bar, with a billion bottles of booze and mixers, sliced limes and lemons and a variety of glassware. He likes to think that people can walk in and have any drink they desire. They way he sets it up always elicits a cacophony of "oohs" and "ahhs" from our guests.

We fed 20 people and the house was filled with laughter and chatter. There was no angst. Just pleasantness and helpfulness and good conversation.

The next day we gathered and assembled Ginger Bread houses. My sister Deb started this tradition a few years ago. Guests come back and nosh on left overs and we put the houses together. It is very relaxed and happy, with just a bit of competitiveness. Niece Emily and her husband Jeff always come up with the most elaborate, fabulous house. They work together, heads close, plotting their strategy as they decorate with gum drops and frosting. It is delightful to see.

And then... everyone goes home and this old house is quiet again. All of the build up and planning and preparation is over. The cold porch is laden with leftovers, and we find ourselves ducking out there to snitch a bit of turkey, a taste of cake, a glass of wine, a slice of good pie. As for me, I usually take a nap or two in the days following. I bask in the memory of the joy of being together, remember the echoing sounds of good conversation and savor the flavor of the left over goodies. The thankfulness? It lingers.

Mice beware..!

2011-11-14T21:08:00.001-05:00

Our home is in the country. We are surrounded by wildlife of all kinds. Eagles, fox, coyotes, turkeys and deer are all regularly seen on or near our property. All of that makes me very happy. But sometimes the wild things get, uh, a little to close for comfort. This time of year I sometimes find evidence that mice have been tap dancing on my counter tops. It is then that I wish we had a cat.

Recently one of my grooming customers told me that they wanted to find a home for their Maine Coon cat- a huge guy with a sweet disposition. I thought of the mice and looked at the massive cat. I think the mice have met their match.

We dubbed the new guy "Catfish Hunter." He is settling in, getting to know the lay of the place and meeting his new staff. He has the dogs trembling in fear as he stalks about. One impressive feline; I have a feeling he is going to earn his keep.

Interwoven...

2011-11-09T06:31:00.001-05:00

This morning, as dawn slips pinkly through the wavy glass windows of this old house, I am thinking of relationships. I have worked every day for years with a woman who will now no longer be there. We have swapped recipes, shared laughter, teased, gotten on each others nerves and spent countless hours talking. Today for the first time I won't know what she is planning to cook for supper or what her kids are up to. And it is going to be strange.

There are all these intricate connections in our lives. Some we take for granted until the link breaks. And then because life is the way it is, we move on, stronger for the experience, saddened by the loss. It's a lot to think about.

The world, she is...

2011-11-07T20:21:00.000-05:00

My husband, daughter and I just returned from a magical weekend in Quebec, Canada. The people of Quebec speak French as a primary language, so though it is only a 6 hour drive from our home in Maine, it feels quite exotic to be there. We loved the wording on the can of sardines above, "Fish She is Very Small." The world? She is very small, too.

And very beautiful. The area called Old Quebec City is like a slice of Europe. Copper roof tops, cobble stone streets, wrought iron and ancient brick work were eye candy.

We sampled Poutine, a Quebec favorite dish that features French fried potatoes covered in gravy and cheese curd which squeaks when you bite it. You can add other things, if you wish, such as bacon or sausage or... well... most anything. We are going to have to learn to make it here, too.

We stayed in the home of our friends. They offered us the warmest, most gracious hospitality. The first night we dined on Couscous made by their friend (and our new friend!) from Algeria. Another amazing woman from Germany joined us for the feast. So it was 3 Americans, 2 Canadians, a German and an Algerian all at the table. As we ate and talked and laughed I couldn't help but look at this bunch of us; a blend of languages and cultures and experiences, all joined together because of... pet grooming. I could never have imagined that my passion for grooming dogs and cats would take me to the places it has. On Sunday my friend and I gave a seminar on cat grooming to 16 women from all over the province. Our work was well received and I think all of us had a good time.

If I could have looked through the key hole to my life and seen the bright kaleidoscope of colors that would ebb and flow to create the wonders I experience, I never would have believed my eyes. I can hardly wait to see what happens next!

Pumpkins...

2011-10-31T22:55:00.001-04:00

This year I grew a single pumpkin plant. Here is my harvest, ready to turn into jack o' lanterns. My daughter and I cut and scooped and scraped and carved. One pumpkin had a huge eyeball on it, one a ghost and the third a crescent moon. They greeted a little witch and a handful of other goblins. My "after" photos were not so good, you'll have to your imagination run wild!

I had a memory while I was carving of a story I heard when I was a small kid. It was supposed to be a scary story My friend told me that one time when they carved a pumpkin they removed the lid and found a live mouse inside. I realized tonight that every time I cut a pumpkin I am subconsciously looking for a cute little mouse. To me that would be a happy surprise... the story backfired and didn't scare me a bit.

I also fondly remembered holding tightly to my mothers hand while going trick or treating. We'd scuff our feet through the frosty leaves and she'd say, "Crunch, crunch, crunch, Billy Goat's out to lunch!" One neighbor lived in a beautiful old colonial house with a fireplace so large I could stand in it. They would have a kettle full of hot apple cider suspended over a fire, and the warmth of their home and that aromatic drink would be so welcoming after a cold walk in the dark.

Tonight we put heaping handfuls of candy into children's bags. I hope someday when those kids are big they'll ride by our place and say, "That is the house that always had a bunch of jack o' lanterns and gave a silly amount of candy!" It would be fun to be part of a happy memory.

October snow...

2011-10-30T10:02:00.002-04:00

The lambs look befuddled by the weather. Last night all five of them bedded down in the calf hutch, which has a thick cushion of mulch hay inside. They were wedged in tight as puzzle pieces and contentedly chewing their cuds when I went out this morning. They have no problem digging through the wet snow to find food, (and they ignore the nice hay we bought them!) I doubt they feel the chill though those thick fleeces.

The ducks are not as happy. One of them had the good sense to bunk in with the chickens in the snug, insulated coop yesterday evening.. The other two were out in the middle of the lawn looking fairly miserable when I went out with the dogs for the final walk last night. Frosted in an inch of so of wet snow, they followed expectantly along with me and the beam of my good flash light. They could choose shelter in the duck house, the chicken coop or the calf hutch. Instead they huddled forlornly under the coop. At least it is dry there. This morning as the winds gust they are still on strike, refusing to seek better shelter. I assume when they get hungry enough they'll waddle out and become better situated.

It is odd to see snow on trees still laden with leaves; on pumpkins and scarecrows and autumn wreaths.
But inside the wood stove crackles and a kettle filled with water, cinnamon, orange peels and cloves perfumes the air. I am snuggled up under a thick fleece blanket and sipping a cup of spicy tea. This storm will pass and the regularly scheduled season will return.

Missed the shot but savored the story...

2011-10-27T20:55:00.000-04:00

Layah, one of my original four chickens, has been failing. She was old and has had a rich chicken life filled with good food, sunshine, room to roam and a safe, cozy coop to roost in at night. During the last week she faded a bit more each day. She did not appear to be suffering, but was, clearly, dying. This morning when I went out to let the chickens out of the coop she was still alive, but her time was obviously borrowed.

Before I went to work I checked on the critters one last time. The hen was comfortably cradled on shavings, and the bunny was snuggled up to her. They were cheek to cheek, sitting very close and still beside each other. I hustled to get my camera, but when I came back the bunny had moved.

The rabbit, living without any of her own kind, has bonded with the chickens and ducks. I think she knew her friend was moving on and spent a few moments saying goodbye. The animals I share my life with constantly amuse and amaze me. I missed the photo opportunity but the memory is mine to keep.

Shopping in the country...

2011-10-26T23:03:00.001-04:00

When we first moved to this rather rural spot from the city of Memphis we found ourselves often stopping in at at the Union True Value Hardware. It was the closest thing to a store around and had many things we needed as we settled into our new home.

On my second visit there the owner, Vic, called out, "Hi Daryl!" I was both surprised and impressed, such a thing would never happen in the city.

Eight years later I have bought many things there... nuts and bolts, a bright yellow wheel barrow, lip balm, penny candy, cleaning supplies, shower curtain liners and gallons of paint. I've bought gifts and decorating items, garden tools and plants and shavings for my critters. And I have grown to care for and appreciate the owners of the place.

Last weekend my husband and my sister went there to pick something up. They came home with a moose steak and some ground moose, too, tucked neatly into the TruValue bag. Vic had generously shared some of the bounty of this years hunt. That would never happen in the city, either.

I cooked up the ground moose tonight with some of my special tomato sauce. Moose spaghetti! Made all the more delicious because the meat was a gift slipped into the bag from the hardware store. Shopping in the country has been a surprise from the start.

Ducks and mischief...

2011-10-25T21:39:00.003-04:00

Sometimes reading gets me into mischief. Last year I read about how wonderful Muscovy ducks are. Quiet, friendly, easy to raise and delicious to eat. So I rushed right out and got three of them. One boy, two girls.
A very short time later I had 24 ducks. They grazed my lawn, decimated the spider population, and added much color and fascination to my life. And they pooped... a LOT.

I am now back down to the original 3. The rest went to "freezer camp." I roasted my first duck last night.

I read a lot about how to do this before I proceeded, and finally followed a recipe I found in the New York Times. Salt and pepper the duck, drizzle it with olive oil and bake at 475 for 30. min. Next, add vegetables to the duck fat (potatoes, celery, onions, garlic and carrots) and roast another 30 min. It was delicious... and those pan browned potatoes? The best we ever had.

I have shrink-wrapped the rest of the flock and nestled them into the freezer. Now I need to read up on more recipes for duck. Sometimes reading and mischief are good things!

Sweet farewell...

2011-10-23T20:42:00.002-04:00

The puppy our good dog Flirt had went to her new home today. My niece, Aimee (left, with her sister Elyse) took the 1.8 lb. ball of fluff off to her new life. I have enjoyed this experience so much I cannot quite find the words to describe it. Watching Flirt give birth and skillfully care for a new baby was a treat. Watching that baby grow from a blind, deaf newborn to a round ball of animated fluff has been a joy. The past weeks have been rich in wonder, amazement, dawning love and laughter. And now I get to hand all that off to someone I adore. There are so many gifts here, so much to be grateful for. When I try to count my blessings I can't... they are overwhelming.

Greetings...

2011-10-17T21:21:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I think we underestimate the importance of a good greeting.
When my husband and I were newlyweds living in a tiny, dark apartment in Lynchburg, VA I learned a lesson on this topic. He worked for a short time for Stanley Steamer Carpet cleaners, an odious job. His boss lived near us and often gave him a ride home, because we only had one car. When I would hear them pull up I would race out the door to greet him with great glee. And a kiss. Mike, his boss, would roll his eyes. He told Chris, "Enjoy it while it lasts. It won't last." He looked sad when he said it. I made a mental note, and now, 27+ years later I still try to greet my love when he comes home. I taught our daughter, when she was small, to run and hug him when he came in, "Daddy is home!" I'd call, and we'd rush to the door for hugs and kisses. We made homecoming a small event. Sometimes when my man comes home, (tonight for example) I am doing something time-sensitive. Like stirring gravy. I will at least call out, "HI HONEY!" in a happy voice and pucker up when he comes around the corner. The gravy more than makes up for my lack of greeting him at the door. My guy? He has a thing for gravy.

I have a friend who has been married the same amount of years that we have. Her husband told her how much a warm greeting when he comes home from work would mean to him. He works long hours at a job he hates. My friend refuses to accommodate his request. "I'm tired, too. Why should I act like it's a big deal that he comes home?" Because it is.

My animals know how to greet. When I come back to the house... no matter if I have just walked to the mailbox or been gone for days, my dogs greet me with hysterical glee. They make me feel like a celebrity. My ducks greet one another with an elaborate ritual of head bobbing with accompanying vocalizations. My lambs call for each other if one is out of sight behind a log pile. Even my chickens croon to each other as they arrive in the coop at night after a day of ranging the yard. There are occasional inter-species greetings as well. Pleasant nose touches and acknowledgements, "I see you here. You matter. Hello!"

I am so happy when people come to visit me. I greet them with genuine joy. How wonderful that they care enough to come here to spend time with us. And I am daily grateful that my loved ones choose to come back to this meadow hugged home each day. They have gone to the world and had experiences I cannot share, and then they come back. Safely. And we are together. If that is not something to celebrate, I don't know what is.

Viewpoint...

2011-10-17T08:51:00.001-04:00

Sometimes my daughter borrows my camera. I don't know a thing about it until I download my photo card onto my computer. And then I am happy to find images from around our home that come from an entirely different viewpoint and perspective than my own. I am delighted to think of her, lying belly down in autumn leaves to catch this mushroom sprouting by the mailbox. I had noticed the mushroom... (it was enormous!) but I didn't stop to catch its fleeting form on film. How wonderful that she did.

Decorating with food...

2011-10-10T20:34:00.002-04:00

This fall a magazine showed photos of white pumpkins encircled with bittersweet berries. Since I love to decorate with things that are white, and since bittersweet brings back joyous childhood memories, I was all over this idea. My favorite local farm market has white pumpkins every year so I went there and... no white pumpkins. I am not sure if they didn't grow any this year or if everyone in my area bought them up after seeing the magazine.

Meanwhile, Chris and I went on a wonderful drive yesterday and found bittersweet vines growing wild along the way. I felt a bit like a thief when I sliced some down from the wooded roadside with my trusty pocket knife, (it is one Chris gave me. It has my name on one side and "worlds best wife" on the other.)

Today we drove to the Belgrade Lakes region and Farmington, admiring the colors God splashes so lavishly on the landscape before the cold comes. The trees were mirrored in the lakes, doubling the beauty we saw. There were many farm stands along the way, but all the pumpkins were traditional orange. Until we took a detour along the plotted route and I spied pumpkins glowing like moons tucked into a mass of of the more traditional ones. Chris kindly stopped the car and we picked the best of them.

When we got home I got right to work... wiping off the pumpkins and arranging them. Yes, yes I did. I played with my food. And I liked it.

Frost on the...?

2011-10-09T20:34:00.001-04:00

We had a hard frost this past week... and I couldn't help but think of the old phrase, "frost on the pumpkin" when I saw Bat Boy the black lamb all coated in ice crystals. I plunged my fingers deep into his wool and he was toasty warm beneath that layer of chill.

Today was 80 and summery. The weather changes in a blink, and this blast of warm was a welcome gift. All around me the leaves are changing from green to gold, and the Sumac is a riot of red and orange at the edge of the meadow. The cold days will soon out-number the warm and we'll turn to inside chores and stay close to the fire... snug as a lamb under thick fleece.

Impossibly small puppy...

2011-10-04T21:12:00.000-04:00

My sister gifted us with a very tiny, soft dog bed when Flirt had her puppy. The entire bed spans a mere 12 inches... but baby "Tease" could romp in it with friends and still have room to roll; looking adorable all the while!

She is almost 5 weeks old now. Her puppy teeth are poking through her gums, she is experimenting with eating solid food, and she is learning to play. She is not terribly coordinated at this point. She'll try a tentative bounce, fall over, roll a few times like a plushy ball, then pop up and try again. She adds extra smiles and laughter to our home.

Scary..?

2011-10-03T20:39:00.001-04:00

My sweet daughter and I have a long tradition of making scare crow's this time of year. We used to make them when she was a kid, her friends would often join us for a happy time of stuffing old clothes with straw. The last few years we let the season slip by without decorating our yard with a fun personality, but we are back in the groove this year! We like making girl scare crows best, and this year we came up with "Ramona." She is a sassy wench, waving jauntily at those that pass by. She makes me smile... I hope she has a similar affect on others.

End of season...

2011-10-02T22:36:00.000-04:00

I put the gardens to bed today. The last harvest-able vegetables were picked, then I flung the gate open for the sheep, chickens and ducks to have a PARTY there. They made short work of weed seeds, insects and the wilting leaves of pepper and squash plants.

The chickens searched for bugs...

The ducks rejoiced in the fine dining offered up by slugs and half rotted tomatoes.
I stood outside in a cold drizzle for a LONG time watching the livestock. It seems magical that the ruined garden will feed the animals. The garden continues to feed us....

Garden's end...

2011-09-29T21:05:00.001-04:00

The garden is about done producing. Tonight we harvested butternut squash, delicata squash, some red and green tomatoes, peppers and a few last yellow (summer) squash. 25 lbs. or so of home grown goodness. There are still a few pumpkins out there getting ready to come to the house.

Blossum pug checked it all out. Left to her own devices she'd gnaw those veggies to oblivion. This is one of those dog that will eat any darn thing.

Chris and I both enjoyed our big new garden so much this year. Every night after work we'd walk out there together and admire the mass of growth. We have found the harvest to be delicious. Already the plotting for next years plantings have begun!

On things that grow fast...

2011-09-28T21:57:00.001-04:00

In mid-July, Belle, a Muscovy duck, presented me with my first ever ducklings. They were the size of golf balls, a myriad of colors and just impossibly cute. 11 weeks later the girl ducklings are large and the boys ENORMOUS! Each of them is beautiful, sleek and fat and healthy looking. They eat so many bugs that my yard is virtually a no bug zone. They also polish off 50 lb. bags of feed in no time. And poop? A LOT. Next year my lawn will be LUSH. It is a bit difficult to believe that any animal can grow this big, so fast.

The ducks sleep at night in a tight flock, with the resident rabbit hanging out nearby. During the day they roam the meadow snapping up flies, spiders and anything that moves. They take frequent breaks to splash in the blue kiddy pool, poke through the compost pile looking for treats, or follow me about the place, hoping I'll suddenly drop a scoop of duck food in their direction!

In May I began with two ducks- one drake, one hen. I added a second hen in June. Now I have 22 ducks waddling about, perching on the picnic table, cadging for treats. They are beauty and comedy in feathered packages. I never knew I needed ducks, but am so glad to have them!

Dead weeds and gratitude...

2011-09-27T21:56:00.000-04:00

When I was a little kid my friends Emily and Melanie and I looked forward to fall each year. We waited anxiously until the milkweed pods burst open, revealing the magical treasure they held inside. We would race through the stands of weeds, arms outstretched. The stalks would rattle as we passed, and the pods would release their seeds. Each brown teardrop was suspended by an airy parachute. Freed by our small, churning forms they would float up on the air currents; a million airborne fairies.

Today I spent a happy hour opening pods and throwing handfuls of seeds into the impossibly blue sky.
I took photo after photo, trying to capture a seed or more dancing in air. There was a lot of glee as I tossed and snapped.

Recently someone posted about my photo album on Facebook that my life was "beautiful" and they wanted to live it. Today as I took photos of dead weeds (dead weeds!) I had this thought; it is not that my life is more beautiful than the lives of others. It is that I take time to document the lovely moments, and in so doing appreciate all that I have. To me that is what makes it all worth while... the gratitude for all that is good in every. Single. Day.

Common Ground Fair...

2011-09-26T08:14:00.001-04:00

We went to the Common Ground Fair in Unity. The locals call it the "Granola Fair." The entire thing is eye candy... bright colors, fascinating people, artistry abounds.

I admit to a wee bit of envy for this little splash of brightness... there was a lot of walking and it would have been a treat to be hauled about in a red wagon!

There were draft horses and mules, oxen and goat, poultry and rabbits and alpacas. I enjoyed every bit of it, especially this fuzzy baby!


To think that little colt will grow up to be a huge muscular guy capable of plowing. Amazing.

Opportunity...

2011-09-23T19:42:00.000-04:00

Recently, when I bent to scoop some feed for the poultry from the deep galvanized can in the garage, the new light of dawn glinted off... something. I paused, looked harder, and found the form of a wee rodent deep in the can. This mouse had jumped long- in blind faith, to dine on cracked corn. Then it was stuck. And I found it. I could have whacked it and ended its life. But I didn't. I laid a long stick into the can and watched the tiny creature scramble up and out. FREE in my garage. Free to eat more food destined for hens or sheep. One look into those impossibly large eyes told me it was all good. That mouse was doing just what I would do: going for the gold, doing it's best for its family. How could I deny such vision?
I hope it has a store of food to last it during the long, cold season ahead.

Puppy...

2011-09-15T21:49:00.000-04:00

Tease is now 15 days old and, I have to say it... FAT. She has the entire milk bar her mama provides all to herself, and she takes full advantage of it. Her eyes have not opened yet, and she looks like a cross between a baby polar bear and a baked potato. We all dote upon her and cannot wait to see what a fine dog she grows into.

End of the harvest and future plans...

2011-09-12T21:53:00.000-04:00

My sister and I picked a basket of garden goodies so heavy it was easier to share the load.
The lambs tried to run interception but we managed to make it to the house without incident,(they give a wicked hip check!)
The garden production is winding down... there are plenty of tomatoes and the pumpkins and winter squash are still growing, but everything else is looking weary. I'm already pondering and planning about what I want to plant next year... before I'm even done putting all of this by!

2011-09-07T20:47:00.001-04:00

I have a keen sense of the ridiculous. During a recent visit to the Windsor Fair, the tell tale green of a can of "Bag Balm" caught my eye. Then I noted the backdrop. And it cracked me up. I just had to share.

Fruit of the harvest...

2011-09-05T09:04:00.004-04:00

Using many tomatoes that we grew in our garden, and adding some we bought at the local farm stand, my sister and I gathered together what we needed to make tomato sauce to freeze for the coming winter. We had fresh herbs from our gardens, garlic and peppers we grew ourselves, and some zucchini we threw in, too.
It took an hour or so of cutting and chopping to fill up two 18 quart cookers. We let it all simmer while we went to the Windsor Fair. Then we stirred them up and let them cook more while we went for a swim. After things were mushy we pureed it all then poured the sauce back into the cookers. Next we added herbs, salt, pepper and other things. We let the sauce cook for hours while we prepared and ate lobster dinner. More stirring, more cooking while we cleaned up. Finally at bed time the sauce was thick and fragrant and delicious. We let it cool over night and this morning tucked 23 quart bags of the flavor of summer into the freezer. The memories we made will be stored somewhere else.

If you want to make this yourself, the recipe follows:
We used 18 quart cookers made by Oster/Sunbeam. They are under $30 at places like Target.
This is 1/2 recipe, which will fill 1 cooker.
1/2 bushel tomatoes, cored, not peeled, cut in half if large
2 hot peppers
2 sweet peppers
6 onions
1 head garlic
1/2 c. olive oil
Chunk up vegetables and put all ingredients into the cooker. Cook hot, (400) for several hours, stirring occasionally, until soft. Cool enough so you can handle, then put into food processor or blender in batches until smooth. Put sauce back into the cooker and add:
1/2 c. olive oil
1/8 c. oregano
basil to taste
1/2 c. sugar
4 sm. cans tomato paste
1/4 c salt
1/8 c pepper
(you an add more seasonings to taste)
Cool, ladle into freezer bags. Enjoy!

Flavor of the season...

2011-09-04T21:48:00.003-04:00

Last fall I bought seed garlic. I planted it in autumns cold dark earth and piled the mulch on. I had always thought growing this savory bulb would be a treat. In the spring green shoots appeared and grew hip high. In late summer the foliage withered and I dug deep to pull up fat, fragrant bulbs. I dusted the dirt off and laid them out to dry. I've been cooking with them for the last few weeks, and the flavor is wonderful. This fall, I plan to plant MORE garlic!

A companion is born...

2011-09-02T21:22:00.004-04:00

At 12:30 AM on 9/1, Flirt, my sweet toy poodle, pushed one very large puppy into the world.
She has never before given birth, but somehow knew to make a safe nest before hand and manage labor gracefully. She instinctively knew how to remove the pup from it's sac, nip the umbilical cord, and stash the placenta. She helped her new daughter to nuzzle up to the milk bar and polished her till she shone like a small warm pearl in the low light. She is a dedicated mother; I have to force her to go outside to take care of business, and deliver food and water to her by hand because she will not leave her new baby. I have to wonder, gazing on this vignette of maternal instinct, if there is some way to teach certain human mothers such devotion to their young?

A few days ago I spoke to a woman who told me she used to teach art to underprivileged inner city kids. One first day of class she heard a student say, "I am not going to listen to that bitch." She turned to the class and said, "Do you know what a bitch is? It is a female who will do anything to protect her young. You are right. I am a bitch. And I will be here not just to teach you but to protect you." My little Flirt? She's a bitch. 7 pounds of fierce protecting her singleton pup. It is beautiful to see.

After Irene...

2011-08-29T08:26:00.002-04:00

We weathered the storm with no damage. Fickle as storms are, it changed its track and beat Vermont up instead of frolicking along the Maine coast. We had some gusty winds and heavy rain... and today the world smells clean and fresh. It is the kind of weather that makes me want to clean house, so that is what I am about.

The calm before...

2011-08-27T06:56:00.003-04:00

It is a typical morning, all is calm. The animals don't listen to the weather forecast and seem unaware that a hurricane is barreling towards us. One of the Partridge Rock's looks for bugs in the meadow. The ducks splash in their pool and the lambs graze calmly.
My friend Carol works at a farm. She gave me a flat of unwanted flower seedlings this spring. I put them in a huge pot by my gate and waited to see what would happen. Each bloom is a happy surprise of nature.

Today we will get ready for the coming storm... and see what surprises are next.

Trouble with turkeys OR Only in Maine...

2011-08-25T19:24:00.003-04:00

This year I decided to try raising some turkeys. In June my daughter gifted me with 4 turkey poults, a few days old and totally adorable. I took excellent care of them, and they thrived. Once they got big enough they roamed the yard, eating bugs and being totally enchanting. Then, to my horror, they began to die. One by one they went to spirit.
I grieved. I did research and the indication was that the birds might have some sort of genetic disease. I bought 6 more turkeys... 5 weeks old and saucy. They were doing very well, until they weren't. In quick succession they died as well. I am heartsick.

This morning the second to last one was dead. I put it in a bag and called my veterinarian. I asked him if he would do a necropsy on a turkey. I really wanted to know what was killing these sweet, friendly birds. He said he would, but that he didn't know what to look for, and recommended that I call the state agricultural veterinarian. He gave me the number and I called him.To my amazement, he answered the phone. We had a nice chat. He asked me a lot of questions, but in the end he had no idea what was going wrong with my turkeys. But he told me that if I went to my local extension office they would give me a box and a pre-paid Fed-x packing label, then deliver the bird to the University of Maine college and do a diagnostic necropsy for free. I was to call the college first.

When I called the college, the woman who answered the phone told me that the veterinarian was going to be out of town and the bird would have to be delivered today. I was at work, it was not possible for me to leave and take the turkey on a two hour drive. But then it occurred to me! In the lobby sat a customer that lived in the same town that the college was in. Maybe she would be willing to deliver the turkey to the college? Did I dare ask her? Probably not. It was a socially awkward question, to say the least.

But, me being me, I asked anyway. I said, "I have a totally weird thing to ask you. Feel FREE to tell me no. Would you consider delivering a dead turkey to the U of Maine so they can find out what was wrong with him?" She never blinked. "SURE I would. How big is it?" I showed her with my hands, a fairly small bird. She looked contemplative. Then she asked, "How do you think my dog will do with the turkey in the car?" I said, "You can put it in the trunk." She replied, "But won't he be scared?" I said, "He is DEAD."

"DEAD? Oh sure, no problem."

It was here that I paused. This woman barely knows me, yet she was not only willing, but EAGER to help me by driving a dead bird in a bag to a college where she would have to find the right place and the right people to deliver the bird to. This, dear readers, was an example of someone going above and beyond. To me this is an example of how delightful people in Maine are. They are quiet, and a bit reserved, but in a pinch, they will help. Even if the request is bizarre.

I am having trouble with turkeys. But people? I love them.

Windshield time...

2011-08-22T10:37:00.003-04:00

One of our favorite things to do when we have a sliver of time unspoken for is to go for a drive. We refer to this as "windshield time," and we explore places around our home that we have not yet seen. We chat sometimes, or share companionable silences. We hold hands and often treat ourselves to ice cream. I almost always bring my camera, because this area is studded with gems of beauty.
Yesterday our path took us to Friendship where we took some photos of a friend for her senior yearbook, then we meandered through Cushing. We stopped to photograph Canada geese grazing before a picturesque bay, and then at a little boggy spot by the side of the road where this Great Blue Heron was waiting for supper. Windshield time is fine.

Big changes...

2011-08-19T07:00:00.002-04:00

For the last eight years I have woken up every morning and looked across the street at an old, rustic chicken barn. The barn was slowly folding into itself, and its loose sheet metal roof ratted musically in the wind. I loved it.

The land it sits on went up for sale a few weeks ago, a "sold" sign went up shortly after, and yesterday the barn was torn down while I was at work. This morning my senses were startled when I glanced out and saw the piles of rubble left behind. Steam rose off the dirt, and it made me sad to think I'd never again hear the roof sing in a storm.

I hope the people who bought the land will build an attractive home there. I hope we will become friendly when I take them home made bread. But mostly I am sad that the empty field won't be empty any more. I'm not very good at accepting change.

Home again and turkey on the table...

2011-08-15T15:32:00.002-04:00

I spent the weekend at the All American Grooming show in Chicago. I hate to leave home, partly because it is where I am happiest, and partly because I hate to leave all the animal care to those-who-did-not-choose-to-have-this-many-mouths-to-feed, but I went and had a very nice time. I gave 4 lectures and they were well attended and reviewed. I made some new friends and visited with some I have not seen in too long. The only fly in the ointment was a sudden, unexpected and incredibly ouchie back. I think perhaps a pinched nerve. Everyone was very kind to me and I am feeling better, (I love my chiropractor!)

Today I keep making trips outside to sit quietly and watch the critters. The turkeys make me smile, and I have to think that most folks have something entirely different than this in mind when they say they are "going to put turkey on the table." Five of my six Broad Breasted White poults are napping here, the sixth is in a pile with some ducklings. I think it may be having an identity crisis.

One of these things...

2011-08-04T22:32:00.002-04:00

When my daughter was little I became intimately familiar with the TV show Sesame Street. There was a little thing they used to do where a puppet would sing, "One of these things is not like the others, one of these things is not the same." They would show, for example, a picture of 5 dogs and a kitten. The children watching were to pick out the one thing that was not the same as the others.

That bit came to mind tonight when I looked out and saw a mama duck with 9 ducklings. No. Wait. 8 ducklings. And a sleepy turkey poult.

Sometimes I think it is silly that I keep my camera on the table by the door. Other times I am so glad!

Baking...

2011-08-01T15:45:00.002-04:00

To go with the soup I posted about in the previous blog, I thought some focaccia would be nice. I love the whole process of making bread; messing with the yeast, kneading, watching the dough rise, (especially if there is a sunny window to speed things along!)

I have friends who wont turn on an oven if it is hot outside. My theory is that I am hot anyway, what is the difference? And tonight, when we sit down to soup made from herbs and vegetables harvested fresh from our garden, I'll be warmed in more ways than one!

Harvest du jour...

2011-08-01T12:49:00.004-04:00

My friend gave me this very funky old egg basket. It is perfect for fetching the produce in from the garden.
I have never grown zucchini before. Of course I've heard how prolific this plant is, but it is a bit astonishing to see how many squash a plant produces, and how FAST. So today, (after gifting some to my favorite neighbor) I am going to grate up some of these and freeze them, and make a creamed zucchini soup I found a recipe for. Tomorrow night? STUFFED squash!

Recipe:
1 onion
Garlic to taste
Oregano
Salt/pepper
2 lbs squash
cream
Parmesan or blue cheese

Saute onion and garlic in some olive oil. Add chunked up squash, salt/pepper and oregano. Add water to cover squash and simmer until tender, covered. Uncover pot and allow some water to cook off. Puree mixture then return to pan and add cream to desired consistency. Stir in cheese and serve with crusty bread. (I am making focaccia!)

ADDED NOTE: I made the soup and it was BORING with a capital B. So I added salt, LOTS of fresh cracked black pepper, some cayenne and a bay leaf. It is now quite good!

Sunday morning...

2011-07-31T07:49:00.009-04:00

I love mornings in general, and Sunday mornings in particular. The day lays before me like a blank canvas, ready for me to decorate it as I wish. This morning in Maine the day dawned cool and crisp. I took my camera outside with me as I did chores. The sun rising behind the trees on the ridge back lit flora and fauna alike.

"Adventure chicken" greets me on the deck. She is the only hen that routinely gets out of the large fenced area. She explores the herb garden, pokes around the front yard, and lays her eggs where she pleases. Sometimes I find them, mostly I don't. I can't be upset with her; rather I admire her free spirit.

Little Lambs Lawn Service, Inc. are let into the back yard when I am there to monitor their activities. They are curious and naughty. A frolic for them involves tipping over the barbecue grill, smashing the bird bath, eating all the poultry food, having a good scratch under the picnic table and breaking into the hen house. When I let them in the yard I keep the garden hose handy and steer them away from undesirable activities with a well aimed blast of water. I call this "hose herding." It is quite amusing. For me at least!
This lamb is called "Naughty Niner." The tag in his ear has a long ID number in, ending in "9." This guy is the most mischievous of the flock... routinely escaping from the pasture into the back yard and in general stirring up trouble as much as he can. He likes to dance on the deck. I find him enchanting.
The yellow squash are riotous. I harvest them by the basketful daily.
These are some of the roaster chicks we are raising. They are slated to go to "freezer camp" on Friday. They arrived here on June 1, two days old and the size of golf balls. 8 weeks later they are enormous and have bottomless appetites.
Belle the Muscovy duck and her ducklings are such fun to watch as they chase bugs, nibble weeds and splash in any handy water container. Look at the feet of the little one on the front right... now imagine the sound of all those little feet as they run past me in the yard. "Fwap-fwap-fwap." I always end up drowning the sound in laughter.

Yard art...

2011-07-25T10:06:00.001-04:00

In general I am not a big fan of "yard art," but when friend Liz gave me the metal chickens here I had to grin. I made this little garden under my bird feeders, laying mulch where the spilled seeds land, adding the wonderful baths made by a creative local guy, and a bucket of flowers where the animals can't get to it. This little oasis of color attracts my eye, and the wild birds and chickens, too.

Memory triggers...

2011-07-24T08:40:00.003-04:00

It is funny the things that trigger memories. This Portulaca blossom, (also known as "Moss Rose") reminds me of my sweet mother in law. Vernice Inez Parker Conner was beloved by me for many reasons; most of all because she created my precious husband. She loved to work in her yard and garden, and she told me once that Moss Rose were among her favorite of flowers. I plant some every year and take time to be grateful for her life when I see them bloom.

The new garden...

2011-07-22T21:39:00.006-04:00

This is our new garden. Our friend Scott tilled it up for us early in the spring. It has been a challenge to keep the weeds at bay; since it is in a place that was formerly field, persistent plants are constantly trying set up housekeeping here. We laid in a LOT of mulch, and after a bit of a rocky start the plants are really doing well now.

Chris was determined to grow some peppers this year. We have not had any luck at all with them in the past. He was delighted to harvest this bad boy yesterday. We cooked it up and it tasted better than any we could have bought!

And tonight there were FOUR summer squash ready to pick.
I planted a row of Cosmo's in the garden to attract bees. And to make me smile. They are working on both counts!

Chris and I walk out each night to see the progress of the plants. It is a delicious pleasure!

Learning not to interfere...

2011-07-21T22:14:00.004-04:00

I am 51 years old and still learning.

Mama duck hatched 10 ducklings. They are, I must say, probably the cutest of all baby animals.
Mama hatched them inside the chicken coop. During the day she takes the ducklings out in the yard where they nibble on grass seeds, splash in the water bowls and nap in the shade. At night she tries to take them back to the safety of the coop... away from owls and other predators. The ducklings have trouble with this concept.

Mama says something to them in duck lingo. The fuzzy babies all fall into line and follow her, until she reaches the ramp to the coop. There, mama duck goes up, and the babies stand beneath and holler.

Mama comes back down. She leads the babies around for a while, then heads back up the ramp. One or two follow, the rest? They stay on the ground and holler. Loudly.

Mama leaves the coop. The ducklings that are with her follow. It is maddening to watch.

I want to scoop the ducklings up in a net and toss them into the coop. I want to "HELP."

But the duck, with her thimble sized brain, has it all figured out. Over and over, patiently, she descends the ramp. She leads a few babies up. Repeat. I quit watching after a while. When I went out after dark mama duck was in the coop, hovering over her babies. They were all safely in the coop. No thanks to me.

I take this as a life lesson. Interfere less. Let life happen more.

Life is persistant...

2011-07-19T22:23:00.005-04:00

The ducklings are growing at an astonishing rate. They like chopped lettuce from the garden and think scrambled eggs are just the ticket. Their mama is so good... if I get too close to the babies she hisses then stomps her feet like a two year old human having a mega tantrum. The ducklings are non-plussed by my presence.... they eat and eat and rest and then, eat. Sometimes they hop in the shallow water dish and have a splash. The entire scene is so cute I spend way too much time sitting there, transfixed by what my family calls "poultry TV."

DUCKLINGS!!

2011-07-16T06:20:00.003-04:00

The first weekend in May we brought two Muscovy ducks home. I chose this breed because they are supposed to be excellent bug eaters and the females are said to be wonderful mothers. 34 days ago Belle, the duck pictured here, settled in on a nest of over 20 eggs. She lined the nest with downy feathers from her breast, and then sat there. And sat there. In heat and sun and dark she was there on that nest, her huge flat feet and heavy body delicately covering those porcelain look a like eggs. Once a day she would stand, carefully cover the nest, and leave the coop. Outside she would eat and drink her fill, and eliminate 24 hours worth of waste products. Then she'd head back in and sit some more. I have never seen such patience and dedication. (There are human parents who could take lessons!)

Yesterday her long days of waiting were rewarded. There are ducklings! They are tiny and fuzzy and impossibly cute. Belle is still on the nest, keeping her new charges warm and safe. I suspect there are still eggs hatching under her downy chest. I can hardly wait until she brings her fluffy family out to meet the world.

Garden tales...

2011-07-12T22:06:00.002-04:00

We have two vegetable gardens this year... and they are doing beautifully. For supper we have the sweetest peas, the freshest salads. There are tiny peppers and tomatoes coming along, too. Soon there will be summer squash and zucchini and more. I love to just stand in the gardens, surveying the neat rows of food there for the picking. It is like viewing magic.

Visitor...

2011-07-11T22:17:00.004-04:00

Meet Tripp. He is here visiting with his owner, my good friend, Kim. Tripp is 4.8 lbs. of loud. He rarely eats, has very loose morals about housebreaking, and is one of the cutest dogs I've ever seen. Those EARS. It looks like he got them on sale and bought extra. He could move in here in an instant. The chickens could kick his tiny butt... but he has no idea he is smaller than a morsel. He'd take on the under-bed monsters, no problem. As long as Kim was within reach to back him up.

Gifts that keep giving...

2011-07-06T22:28:00.002-04:00

I have been wanting to raise turkeys for a while. On my March birthday my sweet daughter gave me a frozen turkey in a bag. It came with a twinkling grin. She promised to buy me turkey poults when the time was right.

In June, 4 turkey poults arrived. They were tiny and loud; much like baby chickens but with bigger eyes and a nosier, noisier nature.

Fast forward to now. The poults look like Emu's that got shrunk in the wash. And they are the most curious creatures! If I am out in the yard they are near me, watching what I do. If I sit a while one will end up sitting beside me, or on my leg. If we have supper at the picnic table some of the babies sit with us. We should not encourage this but they are so cute we can't help it. We slip them a snack or two.

In this photo two turkeys are sitting on a log with two baby chickens the same age. The turkeys are growing in leaps and they bring me great delight. They are, truly, gifts that keep on giving.

Translucent moments...

2011-07-02T21:19:00.002-04:00

A friend of mine lost her only daughter, 19, in an auto accident. I can't get that family out of my mind. Many years ago I worked in a nursing home. I don't think I will ever forget the first deaths I experienced. What surprised me was that when a person died, the world kept on going. Time continued to pass, people maintained their schedule's and agenda's. I felt as if there should be something to mark the magnitude of the loss of life. Because the passing of one life affects the lives of so many others. I felt that the world should pause- or something- at the moment of the passing.

But the world doesn't work that way. So I have come up with my own method of commemorating treasured lives. I do it by trying my very best to enjoy the small moments... the fragile, translucent, floating seconds that fill up our days. Like shimmering soap bubbles they are here then gone-- gone in an instant, but celebrated while they were here.

This is the only way I know to have any hold at all on the treasures of life.

Sharing the harvest...

2011-06-30T21:43:00.002-04:00

Clara bunny is a free agent around the place during nice weather. There is a smorgasbord of food for her all around, but I do catch her in my garden from time to time. It seems she has a weakness for pea plants... leaving us only a few. It's hard to be too upset with her, she is such a happy spirit around the place. But next year I'm planting the peas further away from her favorite haunts!

A little harvest...

2011-06-29T23:05:00.003-04:00

At dawn my eyes fly open unbidden. I care barely wait to get out of bed and into the world. The yard is filled with dew and sun that spangles off of fat water droplets in all the colors of the rainbow. And there are chicks and ducks and turkeys and lambs and dogs to tend to. All of this brings me unspeakable joy.

I walk through my garden to see how things are going and growing. Before I know it a snow pea pod drenched in last nights rain is in my mouth and my taste buds are dancing under its sweet cool crispness. I pick another and another and pile them into the turned-up front of my pajama top. Next I snip garlic scape's. Their sharp scent slices through the warming air of morning and sets me to thinking about a supper of stir fried meat and veggies.

Inside I stack the early garden bounty on the tiger maple table while the sun slants in. And it demands I take a photo to save the moment... as if the Kodacolor in my mind was not enough.

Chicks and ducks...

2011-06-29T22:25:00.006-04:00

The Cornish-x meat chicks are growing by leaps and bounds. They are not pretty, but they are healthy and seemingly very happy as they eat, sleep, eat, then eat, then eat some more.
Meanwhile, "Beauty" the Muscovy duck is laying eggs to beat the band. She is seriously pondering doing some nesting, so I am saving her eggs to put under her if she gets to the business of brooding. Meanwhile they look nice in my cabinet.

My computer has been a bit under the weather and I have been unable to blog, but my sweet husband has tweaked things so I can post again. I missed blogging a bit more than I should, methinks!

New recipe, old fears...

2011-06-23T20:45:00.003-04:00

My co-worker let me taste her lunch a week ago and it was delicious. She shared the recipe. I got the ingredients and started to assemble the dish tonight. It included Phyllo dough, which I have no experience with.

As I opened the package of dough I was struck with a moment of terror. I am a fairly confident cook, so this feeling of fear was unusual. And then I was suddenly swept back in time. I was in my childhood home. My mother (a good but unadventurous cook) was having an afternoon cocktail with some other woman, perhaps one of my aunts.I could hear the clink of ice on glass and smell the cigarrette smoke in the air. It was in the 1960's, and one of the women said, "Phyllo dough! It is the latest thing. Delicious but you have to be so careful with it. It must not dry out or it's disaster. You have to cover it with a wet towel while you work, imagine!" They discussed how difficult the process was. Apparently the conversation made quite an impression on me!

I plodded on with my cooking... layering dough with butter, spooning in a mix of seasoned vegetables, layering cheese, topping with more phyllo. And it wasn't all that tricky.
The end results were delicious! I had to laugh as I ate... for an unknown number of years I've been afraid of phyllo dough. All because of a conversation I overheard long ago. I wonder what else I have been avoiding because of some past experience?

And what is so rare...

2011-06-19T08:28:00.004-04:00

... as a day in June?
After yesterday evenings storm there was a double rainbow over the meadow. The brighter rainbow shows up best in this image, but there is a fainter one arching to the left. Something about this place lends itself to rainbows, we seen them often in the eastern sky.

Those who live in warmer climates will not be impressed with my garden shot, but it is looking good for a Maine garden in June! In this bed I have garlic, Yukon gold potatoes, bush beans, broccolli, 2 kinds of cabbage, spring lettuce mix, spinach and peas. There is a new, larger garden too. It is filled with tomato, pepper, squash and other plants.

I love the snapping sound of a screen store slapping shut. It reminds me of the million times I flew out the porch door of my childhood home, intent on summer adventures. I have my own screen door now, put up in April or May and taken down, with regret, in the late fall. It is a badge of good weather and welcomes breezes to tickle the lace curtains and make them dance.

Be careful what you wish for...

2011-06-13T12:55:00.002-04:00

On May 1st I brought home Muscovy ducks. Ducks are new for me, and I am learning about them as they settle in. About 2 weeks after they arrived, the hen, (the bird in the foreground in this photo) began entering the chicken coop first thing every morning and laying an egg behind the food bin. After 10 or so days she then began going in the coop at night and setting on the eggs. Now, from what I understand, what she SHOULD have been doing was just settling on the nest and pretty much staying put until some ducklings hatched. She reminded me of a teen aged mother, though... quite dedicated part of the time but out hanging with her friends by the pool the rest of the time! I WISHED she would get on the nest and stay put so we could have babies. I wished it a lot. Yesterday and today I have found variations on the above theme. Two broody* chickens AND the duck all on the nest! There are now 21 eggs and three mothers. If anything does hatch it will be a very confused little bird.
(*A broody chicken- or duck is one that is hormonally driven to sit on a nest for almost all of the day. They get off only once or twice to eat, drink and eliminate.)

Smoking and new friends...

2011-06-12T09:24:00.004-04:00

Niece Aimee brought new guy Tim to visit. Chris smoked a home raised hen and a few racks of amazing ribs on the new rig he got for Christmas. There was eating and laughter and goodness all around.

Friends...

2011-06-08T22:23:00.002-04:00

My little friend Stephanie came to visit... she wanted to see the chicks.
She is a ray of sunshine and the most gentle spirit.

Small town living and how baby chicks are delivered...

2011-06-06T09:32:00.014-04:00

My friend and I order baby chicks from a hatchery each spring. She called this morning and said, "The chicks are here!" The lady at the post office had called her as soon as they arrived. This was my cue to rush to get them.

They post office was not open so early, so I went to the loading dock and rang the buzzer. The postal clerk handed me a box as if she couldn't wait to get rid of it. I laid it on my front seat and could quickly understand why she was anxious to have it gone. The chicks inside were packed without a volume control, and they were LOUD.

At home I had a brooder box all ready and waiting with food, water and a heat lamp. I opened the shipping box and this is what it looked like inside. It is a chilly morning in Maine, and the chicks were a bit cooler than was ideal. One by one I lifted them out of the packing box and dipped their tiny beaks in the water bowl. After each chick had a drink I set it in the food container. This would be the first food/water they would ever experience. Chicks are hatched with enough reserves from the egg yolk that they can go 48 hours without nourishment. But by the time they arrive in the mail it is important that they eat and drink right away.

It is no small miracle to me that they are able to figure out how to get what they need so quickly. Once they have had thier fill they head for the warm spot under the light and take a nap. I put my cell phone in with them so you can see how very small they are. I put the new chicks in with the baby turkeys that I got on Saturday. The turkeys looked a little startled at first, but now they are snuggled up with their new friends.

The loud peeping has settled down some as the chicks busy themselves with the business settling into their new home. They are warm and fed and all I hear now are contented little chirps from the brooder. There is so much LIFE in my life!

Thanksgiving in June...

2011-06-04T19:57:00.004-04:00

One of my goals this year was to try to raise a few turkeys for Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, I am trying to raise several things for our annual feast... I have planted butternut squash, garlic, onions, potatoes, pumpkins and a variety of herbs.

Ordering turkey's is something that should be planned ahead. I had the best of intentions, but then got sick and was pretty much useless the entire month of May. Today at work I was thinking to myself how dissapointed I was that I had not arranged to have turkey poults to raise. Then, in the afternoon one of my co-workers said, "The feed store I was at this morning has all kinds of baby ducks. Runner ducks, Pekin ducks...." I rudely interrupted her. "I want TURKEYS. DO they have turkeys?" She said, "Yes, they DID have some."

I nearly ran to the phone and called the place. The man said, "Yes, we have 4 left. And we close at 3 PM." It was then 2:20. I was at work. I quickly called my husband. He was on the way home from taking a load of trash to the dump. "Can you take a ride to the feed store in Waldoboro and buy me some turkeys? They close in 40 minutes." He was bemused but drove there- a 30 minute drive. When I got home he handed me a small, chirping box. Inside were 4 poults...all yellow down and big pink feet and dark eyes.

They are currently settled in a large wooden box, with a heat lamp and food and water and a deep bed of clean shavings. They are enchanting, and loud. And very possibly far too cute to eat.

Random shots...

2011-06-04T07:09:00.006-04:00

This moth was sitting on the window sill the other day, looking like a flower petal from a distance. Up close it looked... unique! That yellow on its head looks like Farah Fawcett hair to me... and her color scheme reminds me of a prom gown.

The chickens are discovering the world outside the fence line. There is tall grass and bugs and places to explore. It is fun to see them rustling about... like bright jungle explorers. I suspect they will be more exposed to attacks from ariel predators as they venture further from the house and coop, and this worries me. I hope they will be safe as they expand their horizons.

Guilty of...

2011-06-02T22:06:00.002-04:00

I like to think I am the sort of person who lives in and appreciates the moment. Truth is, sometimes I am not.

It is lilac season in Maine. Lilac bushes grow around the foundation of many houses here, and they grow wild in long forgotten hedges and around the base of old cellar holes. I like to think about the people who planted them long ago, knowing that early every spring the bushes would be heavy with scent-laden flowers.

The lilacs always bloom right around Memorial Day here in New England. As a child I used to run to the huge hedge of lilacs near the Boxford library and pick armfuls of blooms. I would lay them on the graves in the ancient cemetary and think about how the heavenly perfume would make the spirits glad.

This year I have walked past the lilac bush by my door a thousand times and loved the fleeting aroma. But I have not stopped to bury my nose in a purple bloom and just breathe. Until today. I snapped off a few branches and stuffed them in an old Mason jar. And now my kitchen smells of spring in New England. And every time I walk past I stop and inhale.

The moment? It is fragrant.

Colorful memory...

2011-06-01T21:49:00.003-04:00

Many years ago I had an elderly customer turned friend. Her name was Francis Burchett and she was a character. I was delighted to arrive at her house one day to find her front flower bed planted with a row of deep red geraniums, a center row of blaze orange marigolds and the front of the bed was resplendent in deep purple petunias. The color combo was so unusual and bright that it tickled my fancy.

I often do a planter or two (in this case funky old tin buckets I picked up at a yard sale) in a similar combination of plants and colors. The jewel tones remind me of Mrs. B and her larger than life personality. Soon the plants will grow and bloom in riotous shades that will rock both my retinas and my memory.

Spring full of life...

2011-06-01T07:05:00.004-04:00

I picked up 4 new Partridge Rock chicks from the man I buy my poultry from. We met at a poultry show at the adorable Windsor Fair grounds. He handed me a small box full of feathers and I handed him $20. I got the better end of the bargain!

At home I put the chicks into a "brooder" I had fixed for them. It is really a large rabbit cage, with a heat lamp on one end, a special water dispenser and a chipped china bowl full of high protein food for baby chickens. They were very quiet the first day, napping under the warm light and looking out at the new view. Since that first day they have become more active; making little "cheep cheep" noises, sparring with each other and running about.

Meanwhile, the new Muscovy hen is laying an egg every morning at 6 AM sharp. We have 7 now and I am hoping she will set on them and hatch some little downy baby ducks. That would be cute overload for sure!

Spring at Fair Winds is full of life.

Fencing party...

2011-05-30T07:29:00.006-04:00

We have two acres of meadow surrounding our home. When we first moved here 8 years ago we hired a man who put up a fence that gave our dogs a nice big area of lawn to play on. Then three years ago I started buying a couple of spring lambs to raise for "freezer camp." They helped mow the lawn and were fun to have around, (and later? delicious!) This year I went from two lambs to 5, knowing we would need more space for them to convert sunlight to protein!

So yesterday, on a fine spring Maine morning, our driveway filled with cars. Sister Deb and her husband John came from Massachusetts, neighboring friends Scott and Marion were here with their magical tractor, and niece Emily and her husband Jeff came from Portland, (bringing their very cute new dog!) too. John and Chris put up 70 or so "T" posts, then Scott and the rest of the crew pulled the very heavy "field fence" and attached it firmly to the posts. Later in the day Marion climbed on the tractor, (I hopped a ride for part of the time, whee!) and bush hogged some of the meadow to encourage new growth for the lambs to enjoy once they nibble down the existing tall stuff. (The night before Scott used the bush hog on the tractor to annihilate an ugly wall of Sumac bushes and clear up our property line on one side. It was an awesome sight!)

Deb and I did a lot of cooking... quiche for lunch, roast lamb and roast chicken (both home raised last year) and a big ol' bowl of sweet potato salad for supper. There was pie and ice cream and snacky stuff, too, and lots of cold drinks for the people fencing in the sun.
In this picture Chris and Jeff are fastening fence to the sturdy "T" post. They were almost at the end here, sunburned, tired and bug bitten.
When the last fence clamp was crimped we opened up a spot in the old yard fence and showed the lambs where the tall grass was. Tired from his day-long efforts, John rested on the yard fence and we all smiled to see the lambs explore the vast new territory! They waded in and commenced to eat. And eat. And more with the eating. The grass is so high they can't see each other if they get separated so there has been a lot of "baa-ing."

The fence came out beautifully and it makes me extremely happy to look out and see my properly fenced from corner post to corner post. I can hardly wait until the chickens and ducks realize they have so much space to roam!

That new fence represents space and security for my dogs and livestock, but it also represents how very fortunate we are to have friends and family who will give up their precious spare time to help us complete a daunting project. It is a blessing on so many levels.

Duck egg!

2011-05-26T22:23:00.003-04:00

On May 1st I brought home Elvis and Belle, two young adult Muscovy ducks. They are delightful... friendly, bug eating, quiet and colorful additions to the mini farm. Every morning Belle waits for me to come open the door to the chicken coop. She climbs the ramp and hides behind the feed bin, looking for all the world like a bird laying an egg. But there have been no eggs.

Until this morning! Belle laid a large, slightly green tinted egg. I am hoping she will lay more and brood them, and that I will have DUCKLINGS. That would be such a treat. (The larger egg towards the right is the duck egg. The other two eggs are from my chickens.)

P.S. Today I added another female duck. Her name is Beauty. Stay tuned for photos of the happy trio.

Hopping on opportunity...

2011-05-25T21:25:00.002-04:00

I delight in feeding the wild birds. The chickens delight in searching for fallen seeds on the ground under the feeders.

This week I put my beautiful bird bath up for the season, and filled it with clean water. I turned the water spigot off and looked back to admire my handiwork. Two smart chickens had already figured out that if they hopped up on the bird bath they could dine at The Sunflower Buffet.

You have to admire the fact that two birds not known for keen intellect had assessed a novel situation and taken advantage of a new opportunity within mere moments of it being presented. And they were richly rewarded by a smorgasboard of seed.

I learn a lot by watching my chickens.

If I could give one bit of advice...

2011-05-22T20:43:00.004-04:00

If I could give one bit of advice to people who are choosing a life mate, it would be this. "Choose a mate that has a sense of humor." When I look at the high and low points in the last 26 years of marriage, I can clearly see that it is a lively sense of the ridiculous that has smoothed over the rough spots that come to everyone.

In this photo, Chris has just sat down at our beloved picnic table with a nice rib eye steak he has grilled. Bizarrely enough, Lilly the ancient boxer is sitting there, like a small, striped human, and she is eyeing his steak with ill intent. Some people would have a fit, smack the dog, yell, be in a huff. Not my man. He has a chat with the dog,(who is deaf as a post!) and later put an onion ring between his lips and shared it with her. We shared a laugh and enjoyed our meal.

Both of us share an appreciation of the absurd, and it has served us well. So well that when I woke this morning to the slanting light of dawn through the wavy glass of our bedroom windows and realized that my beloved was holding me tightly in his big arms, my very first thought was, "This is just as magical and wondrous as it was when we were new." I laid my hand across his furry face and drifted back to sleep, awash in the awareness of how very, very lucky I am. There is so much good... but the humor is the seasoning that flavors it all.

Dedication...

2011-05-15T17:55:00.003-04:00

When I got the wild idea to add two Muscovy ducks to our mini farm a couple of weeks ago, my patient husband was on board. The day we were to get the ducks he went to the hardware store and got supplies needed to build a little duck house. Then he spent a good part of his day planning, designing, measuring and cutting a nice shelter for the new additions. The project really needed an extra pair of hands, and I was at work. He picked me up from work and we drove to get the ducks, not arriving home until late. And mean while, the flu from h*ll moved into my body.
For the following two weeks I have remained sick and fundamentally useless, and Chris has worked 20+ hours of overtime both weeks, late evenings and all day on some weekends, so the duck house remained in pieces. The ducks didn't seem to mind. They could bunk in the lamb lodge or in the spacious chicken coop if they wanted, but they seemed perfectly happy to nap under the picnic table or just in the middle of the lawn. I've been worried that a night-time predator would scale the fence and have some tasty duck snacks, but so far, so good.

Meanwhile I've been watching the ducks when I have a chance. They are quite dedicated to one another. Belle, the hen, wanders about, looking for bugs or succulent sprounts to eat, and Elvis, the drake, follows her. He never lets her out of his sight. If he finds a treat to eat he huffs at her and shares the morsel. They sleep side by side, sometimes resting their heads on each others backs, looking for all the world like they are cuddling.

I woke up this morning just certain that I would be all over my virus. My virus laughed. So after sitting up for a bit I took a hot shower, waved my white flag of surrender and climbed back between the sheets. The dogs thought this was a fine idea on a rainy day and joined me. Five hours later I woke and heard hammering.
I looked outside and there, in the cold rain, was Chris- building me a duck house.
He was drenched, his clothes sodden. His tools were wet, the wood was wet,his hands and cheeks were red with cold- but he had this determined look on his face. He knew I've been worried about the ducks at night, and he was finishing this project no matter what!

Finish he did. I guess he didn't want Elvis to be the only dedicated husband on the place! I cleared a spot next to the chicken coop and we set up cinder blocks to elevate the new duck house a bit. Muscovies like to be up a little off the ground, we have learned. I found an old blueberry box in the garage and stuffed it full of clean, sweet hay for a nest box. I sprinkled fresh shavings on the floor and put a pan of duck food in the house. The ducks were watching, and within moments Belle had jumped up to have a snack and investigate.

When the weather clears I'll paint the house so it matches the coop. Meanwhile, I hope the ducks find this a fine place to start a little family. I know I will sleep better at night knowing they are safe and snug in their cozy new digs. And I will revel in the knowledge that my kind, talented, dedicated man went the extra mile to build this little place so another loving couple would be safe and cozy.

The cirle of life, clad in feathers...

2011-05-13T16:38:00.006-04:00

Those of you who know me or read my blog know that I am exceedingly fond of my chickens. I got my first hens 4 or 5 years ago, after wanting them for most of my life. I woke up one morning and thought, "What am I WAITING for?" and then arranged to start with four of my chosen breed, Silver Laced Wyandottes. I chose this breed because they are unusually pretty, large, round-ish birds, with white feathers laced in black. The are good egg layers, do well in a cold climate, and are fairly calm and friendly. I've added to my flock, lost a few here and there due to injuries or illness, and until yesterday I had 10. Before I left for work yesterday I did one last walk around to make sure all the animals had what they needed for the day, and I saw one of my older hens lying in the grass, obviously dying. People who know chickens have a saying, "They can be fine one minute, dead the next." That is about how it was with this hen. She had been looking absolutely fine up until that moment. I tucked her into a quiet corner of the coop so none of the other animals would bother her. When I got home the light had left her eyes.

My sweet husband told me he'd bury her for me, and true to his word came home after a long day and went right to work with the shovel, digging a deep hole. We thanked her for her beauty and her contributions to many happy breakfasts, sprinkled some of her favorite sunflower seeds in with her, and tucked her into the earth.

As I walked up the hill towards the house, hands in pockets, head bowed, something buzzed past me. The sound of its wings were familiar, yet I had to reach into the back of my brain to remember just what it was. While I was thinking the buzzing thing came back, and hovered before my face for one blink. A hummingbird! Perhaps even the very same one seen in the above photo. This is the bird I found, looking very dead, caught in a spiders web last June. I warmed it and fed it and it came to life long enough to sit on my fingers and preen before he flew away... a magical moment.

I rushed to the garage and got the hummingbird feeder out of storage and then mixed up some food and got it hung by the door. By this morning my visitor was adding his jewel tones to the beautiful spring day.

The circle of life is so very apparent when you surround yourself with animals. In this instance, just as I was grieving the loss of one life, I was reminded that it is spring time in Maine and new life is all around me, just waiting to be appreciated.

Call of the Wood Thrush...

2011-05-10T06:45:00.002-04:00

To the best of my knowledge, I've never seen this bird, but I love to hear him sing. Last night I heard him for the first time of the season, calling from the deep woods over the rushing brook to the north of the property. I hope you will listen here, and imagine how the song sounds floating over the wind tossed grasses in the gathering evening. http://www.birdjam.com/birdsong.php?id=32 Pure magic!

Spring marching on...

2011-05-09T11:55:00.005-04:00

I have not blogged for a bit because I have been held fast in the grips of a particularly nasty virus that has laid me low. But spring has marched on despite my illness and plans I had put into place have come to fruition. I went to purchase 4 lambs last Sunday, and the woman threw in "runt triplet" for free. So I have a real flock (5!) of them now, and they are beyond adorable.

The daffodils, jonquils and tulips I planted last fall, and the fall before that, etc. have burst into riotous bloom. They encircle a crab apple tree and normally they all flower at once. This year either they are early or the tree is late, but it is still a pretty show!

I decided our mini farm might just need a pair of ducks! So here they are, Elvis (he ruffles his head feathers into a funky Elvis-like hair style and is very good at wiggling his rear!) and Belle. They are Muscovy ducks; known for being excellent bug eaters, producers of fine eggs, and excellent parents. I am hoping they'll get down to the business of nesting soon so we can have a bunch of cute babies waddling about! Meanwhile, they are interesting characters. They don't quack, but rather make an odd, breathy sound. They also don't swim, but will hop in a pool for a vigorous splash!

I have not been able to enjoy my new additions as much as usual since I have been feeling so rotten, but I felt well enough today to take pictures and I even caught myself smiling once when the lambs went rollicking past me, bucking and leaping with the joy of spring.

Gifts...

2011-04-28T21:16:00.002-04:00

Where I work, Yankee Clipper Pet Grooming, customers can look in from different vantage points and see us grooming pets. Most folks are suprised when they see me working on cats. They ask, "Is that a CAT?" They ask, "Is it DRUGGED?" Most of the cats I groom are very still and cooperative while I comb, clip and primp them.

I answer them this way; "You know how everyone is born with certain gifts? Some people are amazing teachers. Some are gifted artists. Some have a flair for making money. Well, God has a sense of humor and he gave me the gift of being good at grooming cats!" And it seems to be true. Most cats lie fairly still while I work on them; giving them a hair cut and a bath. I fluff them dry and trim and primp. It's an odd gift, to be sure, but I am grateful for it- and the accompanying sense of humor.

Weekend activities...

2011-04-26T21:58:00.003-04:00

My sweet husband would be perfectly happy living in a condominium with few maintenance issues. But he knows that I love living right here in this old farmhouse surrounded by meadow, and he humors me. This past weekend I had a long list of springtime chores and he gamely joined in. He wasn't overly enthusiastic at first.

We:
Hauled branches from the recently pruned fruit trees
Dismantled a tumble down firewood pile, re-stacked the good wood and hauled the bad
Put the screen door up
Cleaned the chicken coop
Gave an out-of-control flower bed a major overhaul
Ran a few errands (including buying seed potatoes for the vegetable garden)
Raked some of the yard
And... (drum roll, please)
burned an enormous brush pile!

In our area burn permits are not issued until dusk, so we dined outside while we watched a years worth of branches, scrap wood, our Christmas tree and other miscellaneous junk go up in smoke. Where a messy pile once stood there is now a flat, charred area that will soon be covered in new, green growth. And this was a chore that a guy could warm up to, (pun intended.) It involved tools, cold beer and leaping flames. He was a happy guy!

I can hardly wait to see what fun chores I dream up for the coming weekend...stay tuned!

Bad boxer...

2011-04-24T07:42:00.007-04:00

Tiger Lilly joined our family about this time 13 years ago. When we brought her home her muzzle was the softest black velvet and the daffodils towered over her 4 pound self. Little did we know how bad she would grow to be.

We joke that if Lilly had opposeable thumbs that she would very probably rule the world... or at the very least we would all starve to death, because she would be able to open the 'fridge and cabinets and eat us out of house and home. Lilly is a trash stealer and a counter surfer. In her youth she thought nothing of leaping onto the kitchen table, and her episodes of badness are family legend.

Now that she is old and plagued by spinal arthritis, her naughty antics have lessened in frequency, but she still manages to pull off some escapades that leave me shaking my head and the other dogs wondering how she manages. Here are two examples:
Thursday was a rather busy, frantic, exhausting day at work and I had to rush home and get ready to go to an event with my husband. I opened the door to the house when I got home and was greeted, as usual, by happy dogs. I took a double take when I saw Lilly. Her grey muzzle was grayer... in fact, her whole HEAD was white. How had she aged so much in 8 hours? Then my gaze took in the room... a mysterious white powder covered the dog bed, the floor, and the guilty dogs face. I quickly put the events of the day together. A gust of wind had blown the porch door open.
In the summer the porch is a room we use in which to dine, read, relax, but in the winter it becomes a handy catch-all of things-I-don't-quite-know-what-to-do-with. After Christmas someone gave me a ginger bread house kit, and it was stashed on the porch, most likely destined for the trash when I got around to it.

Lilly had other plans. When that happy wind opened an opportunity for her, she took it! She brought the box with its fragrant contents in by the wood stove, where she tore it apart. Then she went right for the shrink wrapped house... a giant cookie! But since she does have the previously mentioned thumbs, she had to attempt to open it with her nimble mouth, and in the process the whole package slid just out of reach under the antique hutch. Foiled yet undeterred, she opened up the package of frosting mix, powdered sugar and who knows what else. And she shook it, licked it, gnawed it, turning the powder to a gluey substance that she she happily smeared all over the wooden floor, dog bed, hutch and her brindle self. This was the scene I came home to, and after my first gasp of horror I had to laugh. She was so pleased with herself!

Then this morning I walked out with all the dogs, pulling the house door shut behind me. When Lilly was done with her important doggy business she headed back up the deck and pawed the door open while I was feeding birds and the other dogs were still doing their thing. As I headed back up the deck I heard a crash and looked in the kitchen window to see that Lilly had just nimbly flipped the cookie sheet left on the stove with last nights biscuits (see previous post) off and was scarfing left overs as fast as she could. The other dogs came in just in time for crumb clean-up... Lilly had trumped them yet again.

Since boxer dogs are known for their rather short life spans, I feel lucky to have had Lilly for so many years... and oddly I treasure these episodes of evil that she trots out. They are evidence of intelligence, cunning and wit and I have to admit I'll miss her antics when she is gone. Life will be tider, but somehow more dull.

Comfort food for a rainy spring night...

2011-04-23T18:39:00.004-04:00

It is late April, ostensibly spring, but it is cold enough that we have a fire in the wood stove and the dogs and I are happy to be snuggled under a warm blanket on the sofa. We baked a ham and it filled the air in the house with its rich aroma.

I decided that ham needed me to bake biscuits. I have recently discovered a new biscuit recipe that we are very fond of. When I made them tonight I was swept back in time 30 years. I was in the dark paneled kitchen of my college friends grandmother in North Carolina. Having been raised in the north by a mother who whole heartedly embraced convenience foods and thought Pillsbury pop 'n fresh biscuits were gifts from heaven, I had never seen biscuits made "from scratch."

I watched that gentle woman make biscuits with the fascination one might engage when watching their child's first steps. She had a wooden bowl that looked to be as old as time, and she deftly scooped flour from a battered tin bin with her bare hands, added a pinch of this and another of that, poured in some milk. In mere moments she had a soft dough and patted it out on a board. Small puffs of flour blew out under the dough. Next she twisted a metal cutter into the dough and flipped the discs onto a baking sheet. 9 minutes later I tasted my first home-made, southern style biscuit. It was love at first bite. And there was so much to love; the tender crust which gave way to a pillowed warm center redolent with melting butter. There was a bit of saltiness, a hint of sweetness and an odd sense of history and love all in that one simply baked morsel. When I asked for her recipe her face folded into a mass of smile lines. She had made so many biscuits over so many years that her recipe was a part of her, probably just as it had been a part of her mother and her grandmother before her.

I've been working to perfect my recipe ever since... handicapped by my northern heritage and blighted early kitchen experience. But each effort is delicious in its own way, and my patient family happily polishes off each biscuit.

Here is the latest family favorite recipe, feel free to try it yourself. I'd love to hear what you think.

2 cups all purpose flour
1 scant Tbs. sugar
4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup shortening
1 beaten egg
Not quite 2/3's of a cup of milk

Mix dry ingredients. Cut in shortening. Stir in milk and egg just until mixed. Turn onto floured board and knead until no longer sticky (just a few minutes.) Pat out to 3/4 of an inch or so. Cut with biscuit cutter or drinking glass. Bake on ungreased sheet at 400 for 9-11 minutes.

Things happen for a reason...

2011-04-13T22:58:00.003-04:00

Egg production from "the ladies" has slacked off a bit of late. I didn't think too much about it, but on Sunday I found a hidden nest with THIRTY(!) eggs in it. I was appalled. I have been feeding those eggs to the dogs, and a couple of them a day to my beloved crows. I put them in the driveway and yell, (feeling foolish all the while) "HERE CROWS!"

Within moments they arrive, glinting like onyx. First a fly-by. Next they land in the maple, surveying the situation.

If I am still and quiet by the window, they swoop in, and dine. The younger ones pierce the egg shell and daintilly pull out the contents of the eggs. The big ones like this clean up after the "kids," then grab a whole egg in their huge bills and swoop off.

Those wasted eggs?? Totally worth it.

~~~~~Fair Winds~~~~~