Morning

The view this morning:

Winter is sensing that she is needed elsewhere, and bends to gather her long white cape about her to betake herself to other lands; the geese are beginning their long flight back to northern climes and baby animals will soon be instructed in the art of survival by their mamas. Spring, and the promise of new life is nearly here, repeating a cycle as old as the earth itself.

The light is changing again, and seems to flood all living creatures - and even inanimate objects - with a hale and hearty anticipation of good things to come. (Hope.) It seems alive, this Light. It is certainly a joyful thing to awake in it, to watch as it dances through the windows in the morning hours of a never-before-day.

Despite the challenges we have faced (and continue to face), I know I am tremendously blessed to be able to live this way - to have been entrusted with the care and stewardship of this spot of earth and the animals who flourish upon it, to be able to walk into the barn every morning and hear the welcoming nickers of our horses. My raucous (and often demanding) ladies make me smile as they crowd around me at feeding time, hoping for treats, as do the barn cats, who leap and run ahead of me each morning as I bring their food to the tack room. These moments may seem insignificant to others, and that's okay. I receive them as gifts from a loving and bountiful Creator.

I'm grateful. For my life, exactly as it is, and for every obstacle and trial that has sculpted my soul; for my family, friends, home (yes, even with everything that we have had to contend with), but most of all, I am grateful for my Savior and Lord, who loves me greatly, and teaches me daily to love him, love others and trust in his goodness.

New Life

Look at these little beauties! I started several kinds of broccoli, cauliflower and eggplant on February 26 in the deep, dark, rich soil from the compost heap to which my chickens have been making regular "contributions" since last September - and already these tender little shoots are growing up to turn their faces to the sun. The seeds from whence they have sprouted are so tiny - but all that is needed for them to flourish and thrive (and reproduce after their kind) is contained in that wee package.

Sowing. An act as old as humankind. No wonder it stirs something in our blood.

The fig tree has really taken off. (See my pet spider in the window? OK, she's not really a pet. She's a web-sitter and has managed to make a very good living in a high window where no one, except for me, is really aware of her presence. I sometimes sit and watch her as she quietly goes about the business of being a spider - fascinating in itself. She doesn't bother anyone.)

I'll start my tomatoes this afternoon. I'm sure by the time all the vegetables that need an indoor start are sown, every shelf and windowsill will hold a flat or two. Maybe next year I'll have devised a more systematic approach to getting the garden underway, but this seems to be working for now.

Besides, I may put the seeds into the ground, but it is God who blesses them to cause them to grow, and who gives the increase in this as in every endeavor of life.

Early Morning Visitor

Caught this guy (or girl, but I think it's a guy-bird) hurrying up the dirt road behind our place early this morning.

Here he is again! I took this photo today (March 4), through the window of the house, as this handsome fellow ventured near the barn once again. I hope no one bothers him.

Free-Ranging

Now that the days are lengthening and the sun is making an appearance in the sky more often (or so it seems), the ladies have been free-ranging around the coop and near the barn, finding all sorts of goodies in the mud under straw and hay. I found about eight of them today in Sally's stall taking a dust bath, all but laying on their backs and throwing dust up into the air with great abandon while others picked carefully through the hay for bits of dropped horse feed (oats and whatever else they were able to find). They seemed to be having the equivalent of some sort of party, and if they could have, I'm willing to wager they would have been laughing - great fluffy-belly chicken laughs.

The rooster is very entertaining in his self-important way; he certainly struts his stuff (and has it to strut), but if he finds a particularly tasty morsel, he summons his girls to him and allows them to eat it. He also takes seriously his responsibility to protect them, and the various calls, clucks, barks and other sounds he makes are meaningful, at least to his charges; in specific instances, his chatter elicits an immediate response.

Really, they are fascinating creatures.

Fluffy bums in the sun.

Shadow is intrigued, but unafraid.

Speaking of Shadow, isn't this a great photo of her? She climbed to the top of the coop to have a look around.

The girls have also been very generous with their eggs. They gave us five so far today - and such pretty little eggs they are! Of the six breeds we have, some (if not all) of the Red Stars, Wyandottes, Orpingtons and Delawares are laying. I think the Barred Rocks are laying as well. I have seen the Australorps inspecting the nesting boxes with great interest, but I don't know if they have begun to give eggs. No hurry, though. They're still young, and all good things come in their time.

Stonewall "taking the air" with his ladies.

I think I may have been born for this.

This Year's Garden

This is a non-comprehensive list of the veggies, herbs and flowers that I am/will be growing. I spent the afternoon cataloging them and assigning each a start/transplant date, except for the varieties that are sown directly outside at a specific time of the year. I still have to order cabbage, pumpkins, potatoes, onions and two or three additional varieties of herbs, but this is the bulk of what I believe will be an aesthetically pleasing, diverse and delectable garden. Some of the seeds are rare and difficult to find, having been handed down in isolated geographic locations for many years (in the case of the Crapaudine Beet, a thousand years); some varieties were, at one time or other, on the verge of extinction.

Of course, everything is Heirloom/open pollinating/non-GMO.

We have an old plow that can be attached to a tractor; our neighbor offered to come over and hook it up to his Oliver so it can be used to turn the soil, after which the soil will receive amendments in the form of beautifully composted manure before it is tilled to receive seeds/transplanted seedlings.

Other projects in the works: Possibly incubating some Guinea fowl and Silkie eggs for live births. Guinea fowl are wonderfully adept at keeping pests under control. Because we have had a relatively warm winter, we have already seen ticks in the area; starting soon, it will be both chickens and Guinea fowl to the rescue!

I am praying for a robust and bountiful harvest; enough to keep us in vegetables all winter long, with plenty left over to share with others.

Tomatoes:
Cherokee Purple
Southern Night
Cour Di Bue
Rose
Brandywine
Jersey Giant
MamaLeone
Pantano Romanesco
The Dutchman

Gourds (might as well give it a try):
Gakhaa Gourds
Bushel Basket Gourds
Other Saved Seed Gourds

Rhubarb:
Victoria Rhubarb

Eggplant:
Diamond Eggplant
Arumugam's Eggplant

Cauliflower/Broccoli:
Cauliflower (Purple Sicily)
Broccoli (Waltham)
Broccoli (Romanesco Italia)

Corn:
Country Gentleman Shoepeg Corn

Carrots:
Parisienne Carrot
Cosmic Purple Carrot
Atomic Red Carrot

Beets:
Mangel Yellow Beets
Crapaudine Beets
Detroit Dark Red Beets

Zucchini:
Lungo Bianco Zucchini
Black Beauty Zucchini

Parsnips:
Guernsey Parsnip

Peppers:
Ozark Giant Pepper
Quadrato d’Asti Rosso
Golden Marconi
Purple Beauty

Beans:
Dragon Tongue Beans

Spinach
Gigante d’Inverno Spinach

Sunflowers:
Tiger Eye Sunflowers
Lemon Queen Sunflowers

Herbs:
Broad Leaf Sage
Common Thyme
Oregano
Echinacea Purpurea
Fine Verde Basil
Cilantro
Rosemary

I Miss My (Injured) Thumb

It hasn't actually gone missing, or anything like that, at least not permanently. I had the absent-minded misfortune to slam the chicken coop door on it yesterday, and because the temperature was very cold outdoors, I was quite unaware that I had done any real damage until I came in some time later, and all the interesting blue and purple colors common to an offended digit began to develop.

DH thinks I broke it; I'm not sure if I did, but it does hurt like the dickens, and I can't bend it, or do much of anything with it. Even typing this entry is awkward.

Necessity being what she is, I found a soft piece of wood and DH has just gone to the barn to fashion it into a splint, because I have much to do and I have no intention of sitting the day out. Nor do I have any intention of going to an ER to be charged a small king's ransom for the docs to do exactly what I am doing - putting a padded splint on my thumb. They won't do anything else; I've broken my fingers, toes, etc., before. A splint it is and out you go.

I'll spare you any images of a black - and - blue thumb; who wants to look at that?

Ah, DH is back with the splint.

More later.

Getting Underway...Finally

I must preface this post by stating that I tried, repeatedly, and failed as many times as I tried, to upload a moderately-sized image file this evening. The results may be seen above, and since the photo in question appears as though it has partially been 'through the looking-glass,' I suppose anyone with any interest will have to peer at it in order to make out what it is about. Annoying.

This is because either Blogger is slow or Windstream, my ISP, is slow (and Windstream is very slow), however, it would seem that one of the two (or both) is boasting upload speeds that rival two-neutrino double-beta decay. Hah. Look that one up.

Anyway, I'll try to fix the image, but it's late and I'm tired. So this is it for now.

2/8 - Trying again:

Could it be? It worked?

Getting back to the REASON I decided to update this blog:

The subject of tonight's brief post is...newspaper pots. They are an inexpensive way to start your seeds, and very earth-friendly into the bargain, as newsprint degrades easily (use newspaper printed with soy-based inks wherever possible). When the time comes to transplant your seedlings, simply open up the bottom of the newspaper pot so that the roots of your plants have access to freshly tilled (and amended) garden soil, and plant the entire parcel. A snap!

I included my seed packets in the photo because I'm quite over the moon about the wide variety of non-GMO/Heirloom vegetables, herbs and flowers still available to gardeners. I have created a database to track the performance of each variety of tomato, carrot, eggplant, etc., from seed sowing to harvest, a project that contains within it a host of lessons in nurturing and husbandry yet unlearned. I am looking forward to not only evaluating outcomes, but to discoveries, delights and even frustrations as the footpath through a new experience is revealed (or reveals itself). As I think I have mentioned, I have always gardened, but this will be my first year to do so on such a large scale. I hope I am attentive.

Newspaper pots:

Fold newspaper or newsprint in half lengthwise, and lay a medium-sized can along the edge. Ignore my camera; it likes to blur everything, regardless of setting.

Roll up the newspaper using the can as a guide.

Press newspaper against the bottom of the can along the seam.

Continue to press the newspaper against the bottom of the can until the newspaper pot also has a bottom. Optional: I use a small piece of scotch tape (which I will remove before planting) to join the seams and for additional strength on the bottom of the newspaper pot. Tip: I also turn the can right side up and press down into the newspaper pot to flatten the inside bottom before I remove the can.

See how easy that is? You can place them in flats (I use box lids lined with plastic, shallow boxes, all kinds of things), fill 1/2 to 2/3 of the way with soil, and start your seeds. Place in a spot where there is plenty of natural light, and watch life take hold in the good earth.

Joanna the Chicken Watches TV

First, let's dispel some myths. Chickens are not filthy animals, no dirtier than any other creature, unless they are forced to live in filthy conditions, that is. Our chickens live in a clean (meaning regularly maintained) environment. They don't harbor mites, lice or any other such pests, because we dust for them, and we use food-grade DE in their coop to keep pests at bay (or at a minimum).

Yes, they poo, but Joanna sat on a bunch of paper towels while she roosted on my lap, and was therefore not walking around the house poo-ing at will on any and all surfaces. I'm pro-cleanliness, so that is a no-no in my book.

So Joanna is no worse in terms of her overall hygiene than a cat, dog or other large bird such as a parrot (aside from the fact that she is not house-trained). She is also on the low end of the pecking order in the coop. As I was feeding yesterday, I observed how she stands alone on her part of the roost and how easily the others are able to make her move off. Joanna is an unusually sweet, quiet and gentle chicken who, from babyhood, has always sought human interaction. She will squat, spread her wings and make a soft trilling sound when either I or DH lightly rub her back.

Having always had a bit of a soft spot for the underdog (or, in this case, chicken) I decided to bring her in, play with her for a while and let her have some time away from the hierarchy of the coop.

Joanna spent about an hour inside, contentedly snuggled up on my lap on her paper towel barrier, eating and watching TV. We watched a BBC period drama set in Victorian England, and she seemed especially fascinated when she heard birds chirping in the background.

Evening fell, and once again it was time for Joanna to return to her flock. I made sure the other chickens were not able to peck at her as she re-entered the coop, then placed her on the roost, wished the girls sweet dreams, and turned out the light.

Everyone needs a break once in awhile.

A Short Recent History Of Baking (and DH)

As I was curled up contentedly on the sofa this evening under my requisite two comforters - as though some great drafty breeze were about to carry me off - a voice was heard to issue from a figure reclining in the deep and shadowy recesses of the armchair, next to the fireplace in the living room, where hitherto all had been silent, except for the dialogue of a peculiarly underdeveloped indie movie said figure had been watching:

"Don't we have any cookies or anything?" asked DH (a bit plaintively).

No, I replied, but I can make something, as I happen to have in my possession precisely those ingredients necessary to just such an endeavor.

"Okay."

A few moments passed while I perused several recipes, and then, having decided upon one in particular, I descended the steps to the kitchen. I made a lovely batch of chocolate cupcakes (from scratch - no horrible box cakes allowed!), and, in an attempt to keep DH's blood sugar from careening madly about like a car in a 70's cop show chase scene, I used organic spelt flour and relatively innocuous sweeteners (no refined white sugar). The final product was fluffy, light, sweet enough but not cloying. Placing several little cakes on a plate, I reversed course and ascended the stairs, fully expecting to find DH positioned pretty much where I had left him, but his chair was, alas, sadly empty.

(Oh noes!)

"DH?" I called. "DH?"

"DH, are you in the office..." No DH there.

I peeked into the bedroom, where the tale could clearly be read - DH had gone sailing with Wynken, Blynken and Nod. His primordial urge, that which has driven men from hearth and home since time immemorial, the potent desire for goodies which had assailed him earlier in the evening had inexplicably evaporated. He was asleep.

I whispered, "I baked."

DH murmured drowsily, "I didn't know where you were."

I replied, "I was abducted by aliens. But I'm back now. With cupcakes."

DH: (Unintelligible)

So, there you have it. Waxing philosophical, I'd have to say that while men, indeed all humankind, often find themselves at the mercy of conflicting urges (cupcakes? slumber? my goodness, how to choose?), no gift given in hope and grace is ever truly wasted (especially if you wrap it well or put it in Tupperware).

So, I raise a cupcake - to DH, life, love, chocolate and midnight baking adventures.

And with that random thought, I bid you good night.

First Egg!

I stayed up far too late last night watching a movie, so I had to kind of drag myself out to the barn this morning to feed and water the animals. As I was sleepwalking through my duties, not expecting any deviation from the daily routine, I stepped into the chicken coop and found this:

One of our girls had broken the ice and given us an egg! Our first! I woke up immediately, banished the rooster to the run and looked around the coop for any others that may have been left in odd spots (this one had been left right under the roost where they sleep). I didn't find any, but I praised the girls for a job well done - such good girls they are! To have given an egg, and not even twenty weeks old yet!

It just goes to show you, as I held the rather good sized egg in my hands and hurried to the house, that small moments can also make sweet memories. It is a delight to have labored over these birds, to have raised them from hatchlings, and to now see my care for them beginning to bear fruit. The satisfaction of having been (and continuing to be) connected to the process is undeniable. It is needful in some way, and too many human beings (or should I say Westerners?) have been missing moments like this one for far too long.

I thanked the Lord for the bounty of this one egg, and for the encouragement that I derived from this moment; life is not stagnant, events are unfolding, even though we cannot see what is happening behind the scenes.

It's very pretty, too, kind of a medium cream color (DH is holding it. Really, I don't have man hands).

Nice size, nice hard shell. I have no idea which one of the girls gave us the egg, but everyone gets a special treat (warm oatmeal mixed with applesauce, and yes, they love it) today!

Edited to add photos of the girls (and Stonewall) enjoying their warm oatmeal/applesauce treat this afternoon. Yum!

Well, I managed to add ONE photo. Why posting photos to this blog is so extraordinarily difficult is a mystery. I'll try to add the rest later.

Trying again:

Success! Yes, warm oatmeal certainly hits the spot.

Let's try another, shall we?

Wow. Two in a row.

And finally:

Delcie the Delaware expressing curiosity about DH's shredded work gloves. He has other sets, but seems inordinately attached to this pair.

I Hesitate To Post This...

...I mean, this one really is not very far along. The image of the cat is only a placeholder at this point; the head is barely sketched in, the body is indicated with a couple of pencil strokes and I've paid no attention to what it actually looks like - yet. The boy's clothing has no detail - right now it merely looks lumpy. The face is forming, but much is left to do.

The problem with posting (or showing anyone at all) incomplete work is that people have a tendency to look at it, see the areas that will be corrected as the drawing progresses and say "hmm, well, isn't that nice."

But it isn't finished!

This one will be, and relatively soon, so I can complete other work pending (a portrait of a German Shepherd, a mandala, and a mosaic), so if you check back in a couple of weeks, I promise it will look very different than it does today.

I should add that, like most people, I tend to be blind to some (or many) of my own shortcomings. I am, however, cognizant of the fact that I am abysmally inadequate when it comes to photographing art.

Not that anyone needed me to point that out.

So there's that.

One view.

A detail view. (By the way, it just took me nearly a half hour to upload this photo. Can you say annoying?)

Almost Finished!

While I was busy appreciating winter this morning, I managed to squeeze in a couple of shots of one of the gourds I have been working/experimenting on. It's nearing completion, which is a good thing, since I'm becoming bored with it.

I'd like to see it go to a good home.

I sort of love the snowy backdrop, despite the fact that I ordinarily detest snow. When I haven't been appreciating it, that is.

Slightly different view.

It's sitting on a piece of fabric on top of a woodpile. How's that for rustic improvisation?

Parts still under construction. I worked on this last night so it's still wet from dyes and solvents.

More updates to come.

Snow

It was -4∘F this morning when I went out to the barn to feed and water the animals. A bit chilly, you might say, but since the sun is out and the sky is blue, I thought I might shelve my uncharitable attitude toward winter, if only temporarily, and make an honest attempt to appreciate the glories of a snowy day. So - I trudged around the farm until I could no longer feel my toes, marveled at frozen stuff and snapped a bunch of photos, which I now share with you (provided my ISP & Blogger cooperate):

The ladies want no part of whatever that white stuff is lying on the ground, as evidenced by the empty run this morning.

Deer tracks! Nice to see they're about.

Ice crystals along the pond.

Snow covered log near the pond, near the woods.

Snow-covered branch, lying on the ground.

And finally, the barn in winter.

That was fun! And so is this:

Which is where I retire to regain feeling in my extremities. And no, I don't like white walls, but who has time to paint?

Long live winter! (As long as it doesn't live too long.)

EDIT: I see that I failed to mention a very intriguing experience I had the other evening as I was walking out to the barn to check on the animals (we do this before we go to sleep, it's kind of become our custom). I heard an owl! I checked with my son, who had worked with wildlife at a rehabilitation center for nearly two years, and apparently the "hoo-hoo-hoo" call I heard is characteristic of a Great Horned Owl.
So! Score two points (there is one, or more likely a pair of them in the area, and I got to hear one calling).

I had taken this photo a couple of months prior, but decided to post it here, because I like it.

ART!

Finally, eh? But I didn't do this; my friend Char, who who is a fiber/quilt artist in SK, Canada, made this and sent it to me, and what a surprise! My poor point & shoot digital camera cannot pick up the detail in the patterning or the gorgeous color in the fabrics, but I wanted to post a couple of photos nonetheless. This is a portrait of Stonewall SIR, our rooster, and he has never looked better.

If you want to take a peek at more of Char's work, Hey Dooders (under Stuff I Like) is her site.

And now for the pics:

And the detail view:

I can't wait to hang it on the wall!

We All Need To Slow Down

And my ISP has apparently taken this advice to heart, as my upload speeds have, of late, been creakingly slow. Ox-cart/wagon slow. Normally this would not be a problem, but it does prevent me from updating here with photos; by about the 10th or 12th try I'm out of patience; however, I'm tempted to post them as they appear, with all the groovy colors and distortions running through them, as an homage to technology.

Barring that, I'll have to see what can be done. Really, it shouldn't take 45 minutes to post a photo to a blog with a broadband connection.

Getting Ready!

To garden, that is. The whole enterprise is just around the corner, and I'm very glad to once again have a large plot of land in which to work. Every vegetable, every herb, every flower will be organically grown, Heirloom variety (and non-GMO).

I have ordered my seeds, and will shortly be making newspaper pots in which to germinate them. I should have some wonderful composted soil, made up of left-over cow poo mixed with veggie scraps and chicken poo, hay and straw, which has been "marinating" for some months now. I try to keep it turned and what is underneath is looking pretty good.

In case anyone is interested, my seeds are coming from the Baker Creek Heirloom Seed Company and Seed Savers Exchange. Both catalogs feature beautiful photographs and great tips for gardeners on not only how to grow crops, but how to save seed.

Chicken Update

The girls are doing so well - growing rapidly, putting on weight and feathering out nicely. Their feathers are soft, glossy and colorful. The Black Australorps, like the one shown above, are starting to exhibit their signature iridescent green-blue sheen; they are truly beautiful birds.

DH and I cleaned out the coop today - we took advantage of the (once again) mild but RAINY (ugh) day to pitch out used straw, line the floor with sawdust and food grade diatomaceous earth, over which we spread a thick layer of fresh straw and another layer of sawdust under the roosts. We cleaned out the nesting boxes and relined them with wood shavings and straw.

The coop never smells; I remove "bad spots" and clean out the area under the roosts frequently, but I was glad we were able to fit in one more thorough cleaning ahead of the coming cold snap. All in all, we've had an extremely mild autumn and winter so far, thank the Lord. I can cool off much more efficiently than I can warm up, so I tend not to like cold weather much (actually, I don't like it at all). What little cold weather we have had hasn't affected the chickens; however, keeping humidity down inside the coop has been a bit of an issue, so even though the coop is vented above the roosts, I try to leave the screened windows open on mild, breezy days to increase airflow.

My girls are very social and friendly to people; when I show up, even with the camera (and without treats, which is rare), they come running, almost as though they want to be photographed, so I had some fun snapping photos today. Inquisitive, curious, with personalities as individual as they are, chickens add so much to a home. I don't think we will ever be without them, Lord willing.

Stonewall, or SIR, as I refer to the rooster, is more a little more skeptical. He is usually fine with me in the coop; every so often he will try to assert himself and I respond by picking him up and taking him for a walk. Nothing he hates more than to be separated from his ladies! After what amounts to time out, he usually calms down for awhile. I really can't find fault with the fellow for doing what he is hard-wired to do, as long as he shows some manners to his humans.

More pictures:

Hello!

My "walking flowers" in the run today.

"Hey chooks!"

Two of our Buff Orpingtons looking over the refurbished coop.

SIR with his ladies. He's been a pretty good guy.

Edit: I just came in from feeding the animals and shutting them all in the barn for the night. It is very blustery this evening! The wind through the pine trees sounds like the roaring of the sea. I am so grateful the barn cats, horses and chickens have been blessed with a cozy shelter on a night like tonight. I am grateful we have been as well.