weather

found this photo today, taken with my first Kodak camera, Portland, Oregon, 30 years ago.

. . . . .

The morning was oppressively hot and we aren’t used to it yet. I watered the tomatoes and the sheep, both were wilting, and thought with some regret about how I didn’t swim in the lake this weekend with the girls. Purple lips would not have been so bad.  I wonder how many eggs we will get tomorrow. The hens were listless too. Billy and I tried without success to remove some broken-off fence posts in the barnyard and he was dripping. The pigs stayed in the shade stretched out on the concrete floor. I put a jar of sun tea out on the picnic table in the garden for us and baked a  frittata  early so that we could eat it cold tonight.  Billy had gone today with our neighbor to pick up feed in another county and took hours to get home again. After lunch I heard the thunder in the distance and scrambled to get everyone under cover, eggs collected, tools put away. We had a tremendous storm, flooding our yard with muddy water from the hill, til it was up past my ankles and making a mess of the garden. Billy drove through something worse. Every road on the way home was flooded and blocked by fallen trees and down electrical lines. He had to snake his way west for a long time before he found a clear path to head home.

. . . . .

“Oh I’m just a mountain climber, ” said the gesture,and indeed, it seemed to have come from a hiker being routinely asked what the hike was like and was the weather all right- but what is there ever to say about a hike or the weather?

A Book of Memories, Peter Nadas

found for Memorial Day

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

1937

worked in cemetery. + left the graves looking so much better, wish some one  cared besides Charlie +me. Sunburned. got berries at Leitas….

. . . . .

“the beauty of my anomalous nature”

Last night the wind was howling around the house the way it tends to do here. We slept with the bedroom window open. The cool, dampness of my pillow and the gusts blowing the long curtain sideways into the room reminded me of sleeping next to the ocean which I haven’t done since I was a child and shared a room in the summer with my grandmother. During the day we have been outside and working. In May I need the heavy-down-pour excuse to get me inside,  sitting at my table and writing or at the very least, the pitch-black-outside excuse. After supper two nights ago I had a strong cup of coffee, to  help me stay awake and have uninterrupted quiet to write and think; instead I was the first in the house to fall asleep.  Last night as I wrote, I realized I was closing my eyes for long stretches as I typed.  We have had warnings of rain all week. The clouds darken repeatedly and the leaves turn over to show the white side. Then it passes.

On this hill Memorial Day is the date when we can assume it is safe to plant the garden and we decided this week before was close enough. If the buckwheat is growing, it must be warm enough. Our place is looking somewhat civilized- yard and areas around the barns having been mowed. The old asparagus bed has been  picked daily and a new asparagus bed was planted, garden beds were weeded and planted (still not done), eight acres of corn went in on Monday, lots of sheep fence moved, sheep were brought in and given tetanus shots if they hadn’t had them before, the older ram lambs were penned up away from the ewes (they are getting to be that age…) Laundry is never done but the bulk of it was washed and hung out to dry which is usually a sure way to bring on the rain. I finally introduced the young pullets to the older hens this week and it went smoothly with no pecking.  The bull calf is still sweet and our bottle lamb is getting weaned from milk (her bottles are gradually becoming more watery) and after one noisy night is now taking it in stride and eating more grass. Elisa’s new Finn ewe is putting on weight and beginning to get used to us. I still have her in quarantine, away from the other sheep so we have her grazing around the house where we walk past her and can talk to her hundreds of times every day. Her lamb is growing well and looks good. We think we may use him this winter  to breed our yearlings ewes who will benefit from having smaller lambs the first time around. And the pigs are eating and growing, as they do. They have access to a green barnyard all day, every day, but nothing beats their excitement when they see me arrive with an armful of weeds or scraps from the kitchen. It won’t be long before they are getting daily baths. Two of our pigs will go to the fair with Harriet and Elisa and they get the royal treatment. On Wednesday there was a second time at the market which went better than the first. After long days on this hill, much of it alone, which is my preference, I think I’m going to enjoy meeting and talking with other people who farm for a living. There is always so much risk involved in this work and it can’t be explained. It was a beautiful night and there was bluegrass music in a tent close to ours. We ate our first strawberries of the year and they were the best I’ve had for as long as I can remember and Elisa bought focaccia with roasted red peppers and onions and was given a free oatmeal cookie. On Thursday a large stack of books was waiting for me at the library including Peter Nadas’ A Book of Memories (the first chapter is called “The Beauty of My Anomalous Nature”) and two books by Terry Tempest Williams. I’m sure I’m forgetting something but  it is time to be outside.  Happy Friday!

report

As far as I can tell the first day at market went well. We have a few glitches to work out with the set-up but I was expecting that. And what a nice group of people, both the vendors and the shoppers. There is lots of smiling and chitchatting. One of the rules of this market is that everyone has to start selling at the same time and they blow an actual horn to start things off. Just before that time a woman rode up on her bike, said “rhubarb,” and was reaching into her pocket to pull out money. I had to explain that I could not sell it to her yet. Sadly, she hopped back on her bike a rode away and for a while I worried she might be my only customer for the day. But in a little while Billy and the girls showed up and sales picked up too. Selling meat these days has its own challenges. Only once that I noticed, a woman walked by and smiled at me,  saw the sign, let out a small sigh of dismay and then had to look back to see what a monster looked like (that would be me). I do wish I had a camera. Someone from the local paper almost took our picture but it was during a slow time and he wanted to see a bit more action. So close. Oh well.

#27

As a shopper I feel as if I’m a bit of a farmers’ market pro.  I grew up in Baltimore and the best market I’ve ever been to was just a couple of minutes from our house and most Saturdays we went to get bread and vegetables for the week, and often flowers because they were too pretty to resist. This week I found out I have been approved to have my very own table at a market in a great little town just south of here. Opening day is tomorrow and today I have last-minute jitters as if tomorrow were the first day of school. What should I wear? Will I make any friends? What if I get lost and forget something important? Which reminds me!!! I had better go and get  change from the bank.

Tuesday

Eagle Brand Condensed Milk 1887

“To be kept”

It is so dark I can scarcely see My room is on the East side of the east wing I do not know what cold is people write me how cold it is I am never cold there are over 95 inmates with helpers there is one hundred rooms….the doctor goes his rounds it is strange so many old people not one down sick it is not the oldest that is taken I think I wrote you about my Aunt Betty Ross that made the first American flag…it hung in the -ampton Church Lord Percy built the church or had it built for Lawrence Washington generations ago….you know they are Episcopalians …

diary 1943-47, May 17th

Fortune Magazine cover, May 1933, by Roger Duvoisin

obituary of Captain John Adams Webster

. . . . .

The random bits of paper I collect, the way Linda collects beach glass.

Sunday

This week I am suddenly without a camera although  I’ve never had a camera since I started this blog. Harriet has kindly lent me hers all this time. I’ve gotten a bit too used to it and now it feels very strange to sit and write without a photo first. Last three pictures on the memory card I took earlier in the week when it was still raining and I went out for a walk thinking I might find a few fiddleheads.  And then the week was a blur-  mostly work related but also, the girls have a lot to say in a day. One afternoon I counted the seconds of silence from the time they got off the bus until they were in bed and it was never more than 14. Has someone written a book yet about how introverted mothers cope with loving attention from their beloved children? (Oh yes! Five Minutes Peace).

. . . . .

Best things about Sunday I’m already anticipating: rhubarb syrup, Almond Coconut cake, being off the hook for washing dishes for a day (dare I dream?), listening to Prairie Home Companion, and a tiny nap on the couch after lunch.

. . . . .

I now exist on the principle of shortsightedness, which demands enhanced attention to the moment. Late wisdom, but close to the wisdom of childhood. A lovely summer day. Color, taste, scent. A squirrel. Cherries. Good tiredness. Cauliflower for supper. Clean house. And always darkness, darkness that spreads around all of it. Everything submerged in awful darkness. ~Anna Kamienska (A Nest of Quiet)

. . . . .

Happy Weekend, everyone.

pasture walk

. . . . .

The full moon on Saturday led to the little bull calf. He is cute now but dairy bulls get mean quickly and Jersey bulls may be the worst. Still, we all adore him at the moment. The eye lashes! The first day I get back from a trip I never feel as if I can get enough done and I moved slowly in the rain today. The sheep are out in the weather with wet wool which means I’ll have to put off shearing for a few more days. I am anxious for them to be shorn. On these hills, with thick wool our sheep can get stuck on their sides and bloat, which is dangerous if we don’t spot them quickly enough. For a few more days I’ll walk through the pasture every chance I get, to see that everyone is fine.

weekend

. . . . .

Maryland Lamb and Wool Festival

Jersey sale

Friday, on the way

. . . . .

long day of driving ahead of us