taking a stand...

💙

a new door, a new year

waiting, hoping....

~~ potential change is looming~~

Hope to share some very good news soon...

Until then, enjoy my August Rose in the stair rails!

on taking chances

I am not good at letting go....actually, in the scheme of "controlling"
----label me a 9.5. ~~~~  O.K.- a 10.

We made an early decision that we were best with house cats...our Shawnee & McCoy, now 14 years old, in the basket below. We could control their where-abouts, we set their pace. Same goes with goats, once we figured out appropriate fencing, we generally know that they are safe and sound. Fencing & the occasional shots fired into the air to scare off marauding coyote, and we were good to go. I had my animals, and assured their controlled safety. As long as I treated them humanely and with love, they rewarded me with their trust & loyalty. It was this easy, straight paved road. Few unexpected turns, all quite neat & tidy.

In our decision, anytime a stray cat came calling, we diverted all eye contact, never fed them and occasionally moved them on to the next farm with the wave of a broom. Outdoor cats were beyond my control, they would mess with my sanity. It just would not happen on my watch, I knew my limits far too well.

But it happened, in the blink of an eye this homeless, scared, timid cat arrived one winter. And she stayed. She began to teach this old soul to take chances, to risk losing control, to let go. It has been hard....yet for every cat we have buried behind the barn, a new kitten arrives to fill the hole left in my heart. Chippewa, Pumpkin, Shadow, Marmalade, Cinnamon, Summer are gone. August is at the vet as I write this....hit by a car, a broken pelvic bone. We will see in the morning what her chances are for coming home.

Yet, for every worry I hold.....I know their lives are free. They run, climb, hunt...and return home to their barn. They sleep on our porch or on old feather mattresses in the barn, have a heater to keep them warm in the winter, and end their day with a shared can of food in vintage dishes. I believe they are safe in the barn when I close the door at night, but know that I am just fooling myself. There are risks out there.

So I have to now work at counting the cats that have found their way into my barn. One leaves, one arrives. Their road is not neat or tidy....but it is theirs. I'll take my chance on barn cats....look them right in the eye, open the barn door and roll out my heart. There are far worse vices to have.

Saturday, May 18:  Addendum....August came home from the Osseo Augusta Vet Clinic this afternoon.  Her road to recovery is long, they said it was the worst break of the pelvic bone they had seen.  We will keep her contained for about 6 weeks for the bones to heal on their own.  We have pain med., special food and antibiotics to help her along.  We have made a "hospital room" out of a lawn mower box.  I keep thinking how she pulled herself to the safety of the outhouse we have in our orchard, that is where I found her.  Such courage!  It also amazes me that she purred, from the moment I found her, she has purred.  I bet my money on that little girl kitten.

and along came hope...

I am certain my anxiety was apparent in my voice as I called to Luna one more time. The kittens had run into the meadow, following me as I harvested leaves from a nearby tree for a goat treat. Grass so tall & thick...with thistle & nettle & milkweed--butting up to endless acres of corn. Pearl & Meadow had bounded back out, then in again, playing as only kitties do....but no sign of little Luna. Big sister-Whisper & I had sat at the edge of the meadow watching the babies play & waiting to see all three, waiting long enough for Whisper to run off on an adventure of her own, long enough for dusk to settle in. Enough time had passed to alarm me...at 3 months they are still so little, getting lost is too easy. So I called to her, wandering the edges of the meadow calling.

And then she was there, not Luna...but momma cat, Hope. I know she could hear my alarm, and out from the barn she arrived. She sniffed the grass at the edge of the meadow, then entered & disappeared. No sound, except for the two visible babies playing. I scouted all the edges, looking for any movement, listening for any sound. Worry lingered - and I waited...

Quiet & hot. And then my Hope and a tiny panting Luna came out of the tall grass.

So often I lift her into my arms and thank her. This lost cat that arrived at our farm three years ago - my Hope. Blessing us with 4 litters....and teaching us so many countless lessons along the way. Last night she reminded me again that courage is often quiet, that hope runs deep, and that a mother's love knows no obstacle.

Luna, Meadow & Pearl

Here they are....the spring litter.  One month old and now people friendly & learning about the big world. Three grays...from darkest to lightest:  Luna, Meadow & Pearl.

There is just nothing that quite compares to a new litter of kittens.  Watching their proud mom, Hope, teach them about her barn, the goats, the other cats, the big world that is now theirs.  Soon they will climb out of the nesting box in the barn on their own, without my help moving them via the basket system.  But for now, we all welcome them...even the goats come to the fence to greet them, and the older cats touch them nose to nose (all except my Whisper, who will work to like them....but she will become a wonderful big sister).   They are a lesson in innocence that I relish & welcome.

Hope exits, Faith arrives

I try not to read too much into the animal adventures on our little old farm...but every now and again, stories unfold that make me wonder.

So, here it is....our first barn cat arrived as a stow-away on a truck full of goats in 2008.  We named her Hope.  It took over 2 months to build trust with her...and she eventually gifted us with three litters of kittens.  She would often wander off to neighboring farms, several days away would not alarm us.  Last year at this time, she left for a week - but returned.  However, this year -- she has been gone since the end of February -- with sightings at the neighbor's farm.  Seems she may have moved on.  So, Hope moved on.

Now here is where the mystery of life unfolds -- in her stead, we began sensing another cat in our barn.  And we soon found a black & white fluffy cat -- somewhat rough around the edges -- appeared to have traveled to get here.  Whisper & Chestnut show no fear or trepidation about this new friend, and we now find this cat in the barn, eating, sleeping, taking this as a new home.  He is slow to trust us as Hope was....but is learning not to run.   We have named him Faith.

And so it is...

Hope departs  

and Faith arrives.

And so it is. 


March 17th update:  Hope has returned!

Winter, Spring & Summer

Introducing the newest babies: 

Summer, Spring & Winter.

(they are in order of names above)

Sweet as can be.

Almost ready for adventures.

Did I say sweet?

Addendum:
Yes, Cheryl, Hope does indeed have beautiful babies.
As mentioned in past posts --
Hope is our only "unfixed" momma cat.
The mortality rate of barn cats is short --
so adding to the group is O.K.
(usually about 7 at a given time -- which my real working farm neighbors
say is about the number to have for mice control).

Anyway --- in the land of "Hush-a-bye" --
we do fret over the naming of the kits. 
This year we had a suitcase full -
everything from "Bumblebee" to "Peanut".

But when the three looked up at me for the first time --
I knew at least we had three seasons represented.
Perhaps an orange "Autumn" will be in the fall litter.

My first words to them,
"welcome babies, some day we might just fall in love".

just a little secret...

tucked away

that is where they are.

safe

snug

protected

(up in the hayloft - with all the Barn Sale boxes)

three new little kittens

Hope's spring litter

Introducing:  Winter, Spring & Summer

just a little secret...
sweet one at that

P.S. This is no secret --
 we will not be opening this summer for an "in between" Barn Sale,
just too much gathering to do.

Our next Barn Sale will be October 8 & 9.

Hope - where are you?

If you could hear my voice carried on the wind,

it would be,

"Hope, Hope - where are you Hope?"

The irony of it -- calling out to hope,

looking for hope in the corners of a barn...

watching the sides of the road, praying to not find her there.

My Hope, my momma barn cat, has been missing since Saturday.

Her 5 babies are left wondering & waiting for her return.

This is the longest she has been away.

Hope, are you there?

Hope, will you return?

Hope...I am looking for you, waiting.

This time, I shed less tears...

You see, Hope arrived at our farm lost & lonely - afraid of human touch.

She left loved. 

And in the process she did gift us with...well, hope.

So, she is not gone, but tucked away in my heart & soul.

Hope will always have a home here.

Evening of 3/10 --- Addendum:

5 days away...and then there she was -- waiting in the barn, glad to be home

Hope springs eternal.

Hope is also likely "with child" -- thinking the gal was out on the town.

One more litter.

Ah, Hope -- can't live without her.

Glad to have that in my life.

May the wind be always at your back...

When I was but a wee lass...

my family took a vacation in the Dakotas.

We stayed at a little motel in Deadwood...the Blarney Stone I believe.

And there on the wall was this Irish blessing:

May the road rise to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

And, until we meet again,

May God hold you in the hollow of his hands.

As a young child, I fell in love with these words.

Perhaps, as my maiden name is "Wind", I thought it was

cool that we would have people's backs.

don't really know

Just loved it.

And so, this wee bit older lass loves that St. Patrick's Day

comes in the middle of March.

It feels like a celebration mixed with

blessings, faith, joy, & honor...with a sprinkle of hope.

just when we need this most

It reminds me of the benediction we would receive at the end of church...

as a child I always felt I should tip my head to receive it.

Granted, I grew up in the Presbyterian faith --

but Scotland is close

enough to Ireland...I do believe.

So, tip your head if you want...

and may the wind always be at your back.

For you, is it:

green beer, green eggs & ham or green blessings?

Do you celebrate this "holiday"?

Invincible

"In the depth of winter,

I have finally learned that within me

there lay an invincible summer."

Albert Camus

My thanks to Nan for finding this quote

...it spoke to me - as it spoke to her.

I grew up on Healy Lane in Monona, Wisconsin. 

As snow began to melt, 

we would check that certain spot in the garden where

the Snow Drops would bloom - a sure sign of spring.

In my heart, I am checking there each day...

Hope in a basket...

Meet Hope.

Yes, that is her in the basket.

She arrived, a stow-away on a farm truck delivering goats,

in November of 2009.

And she stayed.

It was this time last year when she first let me touch her.

And she stayed.

The warmth of a family of goats was her shelter that first winter.

And she stayed.

So, of course, we named her Hope...cause she stayed.

That's what hope does -- thru all else, it is right there, has to be.

Sometimes we just need to find it -- or perhaps it finds us.

Now each morning, I start my day with a good dose of Hope.

And now, also greeting me in the barn are her children:

Whisper, Pumpkin, Marmalade, Cinnamon & Chestnut.

And at the end of the day -- it is to the barn I return to be reminded of

all things good -- with Hope always at the helm.

I will take Hope in a basket, in the pasture,

in the sunrise, in the sunset...

however she is gifted to me.

Where do you find your hope?

An additional note....

Meet Marmalade -- Hope's baby -- born this past September 11th.

P.S. They are hunting the coyote in the fields around my farm...

we see the trucks and the dogs that seek them out. 

They have taken over 70 so far. 

I feel badly, but yet they need to thin that pack.

The coyote will call out the meek & the mild.

Don't mess with my Hope.

Enough

I'm home, not feeling well today.
Do a little something, then take a rest.
So, it was with disbelief & such sadness that I turned on the news this afternoon to hear of the shooting in Arizona.  A Congresswoman - a Democrat, shot.  Many dead & hurt.
I tend to not use this blog to promote my politics, my beliefs....but I have to say this because it is time for all of us to say loud & clear (no matter what our own political agenda), "enough".  

To those that believe politics is about anger.  -- Enough.
To those that believe politics is about fear -- Enough.
To those that believe that when there is a difference of opinion, we shout it down or shoot it out --- Enough.

Please take your tea pots & your anger & your selfishness & self focus and go home.

Enough.  This is enough.


We are all part of the solution.  We are all American neighbors, community members, stake holders in a fair and peaceful and just world.   So on behalf of the child that lost her life to this shooting today...enough.

Peace to you...pass it on.

And prayers to all...we need them.

fragile...please handle with care

Hold out your hands...and accept this...
It is fragile, please handle with care.

What could it be - this fragile gift?


My first thought is the little blue eggs - shell fragments I find in the yard each summer - new babies in a nest so high.  I think of those little ones  - surviving wind, rain, crows & jays.   And they make it -- and then journey so far to return each spring and begin again.

Fragile begets Strength.

I think of the ornaments - German made I unwrap each December.  They traveled to Wisconsin, some with my great grandparents.  I find these at antique shops, at thrift sales -- and gather them.  Somehow they have survived, to be honored each year.

Fragile begets Dignity.

I think of the people I have met -- those that have traveled through hard times.  Those that do not define themselves as a cup half empty --- but rather always at least half full.  Those that accept food from a line, coats - second hand but warm.  Those that would take your hand if you offered it.

Fragile begets Resilience.

I think of the animals that toil thru the cold, that dig for grass in the snow...that know warmth only when in season.  That don't complain, but accept the grace of a stranger, seed from a feeder, corn left to find, apples fallen from a tree and left for them.

Fragile begets Perseverance.

When burdens seem too heavy, when suffering seems too large -- when all feels fragile -- I reach out my hands and ask for Wisdom from the past, from the woods, from the least likely place....and tonight, in a humble barn, a stable of sorts, it found me. 

Fragile begets hope. 

May the promise of Christmas find you.  Hold out your hands, but please handle with care.

Merry Christmas!
Kari

Gone...

Gone -- gone.  Heart broken. 
My little Shadow -- such a gentle soul, missing since Wednesday night.
Always the protector. 
Assume that a predator came calling - and he set himself between it and the baby kittens.

Will miss his eyes of autumn -- and his kind & loving spirit....just too good for this world.

I will wait for you forever.

With pride

Voting is an emotional experience for me -- just is.

I once held a paper ballot to my heart before putting it in the ballot machine --

and looked up to see one of the volunteers behind the table share a knowing smile.

I don't vote out of fear or anger -- I vote based upon hope, faith & knowledge.

I am not cynical about government -- I have seen the important role it can play in helping people.

So, I called my son to remind him to come on over to our Otter Creek Town Hall to vote.

It is what we do --- with pride.

Pure Joy!

the wind blows too hard

there are too many piles on the desk

day light leaves too early

it feels too cold too soon

too much to do

and so with my back burdened with too little, too much, too many

I enter the barn...

they run to my feet

all they want is some milk, some food, some kindness

Pure Joy

With wild abandon they play

Pure Joy

I laugh & cry and feel too lucky

 

Oh my...

Meet the newest babies: 

Cinnamon, Chestnut & Marmalade

4 weeks old

Oh my...I am just not sure what to say. 

Aren't they just adorable?

**I still would love your comments on the Barn Sale (see post below)**

Chippewa, like the river...

This morning we awoke to this magnificent sunrise -- pink over the barn. 
It was glorious.

This morning we awoke to one less kitty waiting at the barn door. 
It was heartbreaking.

Chippewa - like the river.

Independent. 

Coming home.

Always running home.

Your barn waits - home.

This morning under pink...it was you.

Chippewa - like the river.

I make no apologies for falling madly, deeply,
head over heals in love with my animals. 

When no one else cares, they do.

When no one else will listen, they will.

As we buried our little Chippewa this morning,
Ralphie watched from his goat bridge.

He will miss him too.

Chippewa - like the river...