it was always four

                                                         Me.            Jeff.          Randi.  

 🍂

I grew up as the youngest of three sisters:  Randi, Lori & Kari (me).

3 was always my number.

This past Sunday, I met my brother, Jeff, for the first time.

It was always 4.

💚

birthdays are bittersweet

Today is for missing.

Sisters always...

xxoo

when I was little

Every season was truly fun...

Snow forts dug in the snow piles at the driveway end.

Swinging for what seemed like hours.

Traveling by bike thru Monona, knowing each street.

Bare feet for the first time each spring.

Swimming like little fish at Devil's Lake.

Being with my two sisters.

Every day was delightful.

Today is my big sister's birthday.

Happy Birthday my Randi...

Sending so much love.

I have this bowl of vintage children's books

on our table.  A sweet reminder of sweet days...

with my sisters.

Kari

xxoo

big sis

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Today is my sister, Randi's birthday.

In March, my sister, Lori, celebrates hers.

They are my big sisters.

And lucky am I.

If you have sisters,

you know that they are indeed the cat's meow, the ties that bind,

the cup that overflows...through better & worse.

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Three Wind girls

In our little house on Healy Lane.

Growing up to be strong, independent women.

Just as mom & dad would have hoped.

picture credit

If I need them, they are there.

My sisters

P.S.  Not to be too mushy...'tis for you too.

You know it is as it should be.

Love to my girls...

Happy Birthday.

Kari

xxoo

(Just think, we could have been Faith, Hope & Charity.)

just a little birthday wish...

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I used to be the queen of birthdays...back in the old days, before email, before Facebook birthday reminders, before iPad calendar alerts. Every month I would ready cards to mail, wrap gifts, think about ways to recognize the day...certainly kept my local card shop in business. Just the other day I was getting my calendar all set for this new year, realizing that far fewer birthdays are there...not that any are less important, just somehow they got lost in life. So picture my hand held out with 365 balloons...one for each day of the year. Please take one for your day...and know that it is special. And today I also offer out 24 birthday wishes for my son, Ian....my whole world, it begins & ends with you. Happy Birthday my sweet boy. xxoo mom

Ralphie on the horizon.

Each morning we look out the window to the pasture -- to our little family of goats:  Little Moo, Taffy, Charlie and Ralphie.  This morning they were playing -- stepping back, raising their front feet, butting heads.  Once they see us, they will call to us -- each in their own little alto maaaaa -- asking for hay, fresh water & a stroke or two.

However, on one recent morning since the corn was harvested, Dave looked out to see Ralphie...

not in his pasture, but eating corn........in the field, outside the fence.  Seems our boy had raised up his little goat feet on the fence to see if the grass might indeed be greener on the other side and fell head over hoof into the field beyond.  And, Ralphie, being Ralphie (yes, Cheryl -- he is one of a kind)....stayed just outside the fence and munched.  The other goats, including maternal Taffy, called to him.  And, when Dave got out to the pasture, Ralphie was trying to figure out how to reverse his way back into the pasture.  Dave helped to lift him over the fence line (no easy do -- Ralphie is a big little goat)...and then repaired the fence wound.  And Ralphie was back with his family -- not even interested in sharing this keen adventure, or trying to get back out to the acres of corn....just happy to be back home.

So, now each morning we peak out the window at dawn to see if this:

has been added to this...

to equal one little black & white goat running across the horizon...

running home, kicking up his little goat feet, munching here & there...

but traveling back to his family

&

where he indeed knows the grass is the greenest.

Happy Thanksgiving....

May each of your homecomings be grand!

  Kari, Dave & Ralphie...

call me sentimental...

I am drawn to words, to details,

to intricate layers

and

equally magnificent wonder.

(this is the tree line behind our farm)

I put my Halloween decorations away last night, bringing out the turkeys that would roost in the house for the next month.  As I did so, I thought about things -- pondered them in my heart, retelling a story again in my mind and now here.  Although sometimes it seems like yesterday -- it was a fair number of years ago that I spent a last Halloween with my mother - a strong, independent woman who knew a thing or two about joy & hardship & celebration & resiliency (all the ying and yang of life).  She also knew about the power of simple magnificence -- and would mark the first snow fall and the first robin's return as important markers in life.  I sat with her on that October day -- window in the nursing home open with that year's unseasonably warm weather for a Halloween.  I sang songs to her -- from day camp, from holidays past, words that came to my mind ... about peace and farewells and silent nights.  Knowing that in each of those last moments time was fleeting -- but yet it stood still.  So, it was no surprise at all that as she passed on, I would turn to the window just inches behind me --- and see robins lined up on the window sill. 

Call me sentimental, call me spiritual...

sometimes

yes, sometimes

the moment truly takes your breath away.

"my whole world it begins & ends with you...."

(those are the words I think of lately

-- words by my favorite Zac Brown Band)

How lucky we are to have moments, people & places

that make us smile when we see them

and cry when we say our farewells.



Traveling south

4:30 a.m. - alarm sounds

5:30 a.m. - car heads out

destination - south

Madison, Sun Prairie & Columbus, Wisconsin

on the horizon.

8:30 a.m. - there they are:

The Dumpster Divas (and one Dude) and a sale to rival all sales!

John, Nan & Sarah

Madison Junking Celebrities.

They offer a once a year end of the summer sale in Madison.

*I arrive honking, elated to finally attend this event*
My pile grows as I shop all the vintage finds...
"darn" I think, left the bigger car & trailer home.

P.S. If you attend my Barn Sale...you might just recognize Sarah & Nan
(aka - the Barn Cats).

From here, I travel to Sun Prairie to gather up Jani.
*Yes, Jani from the blog
(not to be confused with Jenny from the hood)
& Barn Sale.
Lunch with a friend...
then off to the Columbus Antique Mall
(featured in the new edition of Flea Market Style magazine).
We shop for hours - but it feels like minutes.
Jani's find of the day - a vintage Santa...
a wish come true
(literally - Jani was just sharing that she was looking for these,
before the words came out -- there one was winking at her)

My day ends in Madison again -- with my very own Ian at my side.
Supper, 1/2 Price Books, shoe shopping --
whatever I do with that boy makes my heart sing.

Home by 10:00 p.m.
Tired, happy!
Traveled south
 -- with friends, family & finds
at the end of that rainbow.

Just as free, free as we'll ever be...

It poured -- skies just opened, and it poured.

Still, we grabbed our folding chairs, rain gear...

Ian drove up from Madison,

and we arrived at CountryJam just as they took the stage.

Early -- things were moved around, acts were cancelled or changed.

And then the blue skies returned and for three hours they sang to us...
three hours!

People danced, sang back and were happy.

And, to hear thousands sing the chorus..."free as we'll ever be" with the

Zac Brown Band

magic, pure magic...

Every now & again you capture that moment,

tuck it way way back knowing it is special & will

be cherished.

Standing there, last night with Dave & Ian and thousands

of other folks that had arrived in Eau Claire-

Didn't matter our ethnicity, socioeconomic status, political views...

under that one sky, with mud on our feet

we were all happy -- just happy.

And we sang...

This is how it rolls in the country -- in Eau Claire, Wisconsin
 on a wet, stormy Saturday night.

Jar full of memories...

I stumbled upon this idea somewhere for

A Memory Jar

a place to keep those sweet reminders of childhood.

Here 's the jar for my Ian (now 23).

His jar includes:

• a Ninja turtle
• a tiger that used to knock down Lincoln Log houses
• Legos
• a hockey puck

Not a memory box -- but a collection,

bittersweet...

all those memories mixed up

like a favorite recipe.

That's my Ian --

definitely the very favorite cookie

in my Sweet Shop!

Kari (aka mom)

coming home...

Saturday I traveled - to my sister's place -- my nephew from California home - a party, a celebration!
Tuesday I traveled - an antiquing adventure -- three hours each way.  Morning to Night.

As I traveled back last evening --
I felt this overwhelming emotion. 
Thoughts of Homecoming. 
Trying to define what that was, what that means.

I know it by the pull & tug of my heart:
Seeing Kevin, my nephew, with his son in his arms -- a homecoming. 
Watching as my own Ian, arrived at the celebration -- his blue car coming up the hill -- a homecoming.
Seeing my farm as I traveled back, tired from a day away -- a homecoming.

It is a warm embrace at the end of a journey.
It is a welcome that quietly calls to you.

At my own farm, my little Chestnut kitten waits under the birdbath near the porch.  All day she waits, listening for the squeak of the porch door or the flap of a wing.  "Homecoming" is defined in this little kitten's world as "there you are".  I like that definition about the best.  It can end with an exclamation point or a "..." It is faith & hope & celebration & joy -- all wrapped up in this sweet, enduring coming home.

What does homecoming mean to you?

remembrance

I will never ever forget certain things: 

• The little slip of paper my father folded & refolded in the hospital table drawer-- a slip I would later find with our phone numbers on it...waiting patiently for a visit or a call.
• My mother calling across the nursing home table, "there's my Kari" when I arrived.  Always welcoming me home - no matter where home might be.

These are etched in my mind for forever...and I do remember embracing those moments, capturing & seizing those instances, knowing time is fleeting.  I remember saying to myself "remember this, remember this."

So now, I fold & refold my memories and call out to my heart's deepest deepest places --- because that is what we do on this weekend.  Yes, we may have an extra day off, and yes, we may have time for that first summer fishing trip or flea market....but we also have a bit more time to stop & remember.   I will.

Calm...at last

The winds didn't ease until this winter surpise returned last night.

It now feels peaceful -- not undone as it has
since the tornado last Sunday.

Friday we worked. 
My son, Ian, arrived, neighbor Rodney arrived,
 chainsaw sounds across the farm.

Before the backyard tree was totally down,
 I touched the bark of this beautiful 60+ year old tree
& thanked her for her shade
 & for taking the brunt of the winds to spare the rest of the farm.

From my last picture a post below, to this...

We still have several trees to remove in the orchard,

but we are getting there.

Repair around the farm will be the next step.

So far, we have filled this dumpster from Rodney twice with debris.

And let me share - Ian made the jump up

 into the dumpster with ease.

Pulling around branches,

stomping them down to make more room.

After he left to make his 2.5 hour trip back to his place,

 Dave & I both tried to just get up into the dumpster

...not a pretty sight.

At one point, I climbed a tree stump like a ladder,

Dave got to pushing me upward,

I got to laughing.

Laughter is good.  Faith is good.  Resilience is good.

Finally, all is calm at Meadowview Farm.

no hurry

"Let the world go on without me...ain't in no hurry today." 

Zac Brown Band

Songs on, coffee waiting, time for reflection...my boys on a journey home.

Ian moves back to Madison today.

I'm bone tired from my first week at my new job (but loving it!)

-so I let them go alone

Just a dad & son traveling...my boys.

Time for me to reboot, reflect & "journal" a bit...while I listen to my guys:

James Taylor sings to me now, moments ago it was Zac again.

And then Beth reminds me...

"Only the ones who believe

Ever see what they dream

Ever dream what comes true."

Beth Nielsen Chapman

And James..."Even my own heart don't belong to me."

My heart travels back to Madison today.

And my heart waits for me as I stepped out my door at dawn.

We have dreams, and so does my boy.

Safe travels dear Ian.

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.

Pardon my pride...

Some times my heart feels so full that it hurts.

Last night was one of those times.

I participated in a Point In Time Count...

one night when across the nation there is a

window, a snapshot of how many people are without shelter. 

We were to count the homeless in Eau Claire -

a challenge to know this number in a respectful way.

We began the night at a community meal...

My partner for the evening was my son, Ian.

I watched him work with others....helping a young girl find just the right

color toothbrush from the box of give-aways.

Handing out blankets, socks...without question, suspicion or judgement.

Walking with me, reaching out to others, wondering about the disparity and

offering empathy & compassion. 

There - when he could have been home.

There - without complaint.

There - because...just because.

So pardon my pride...we done good.

Happy Birthday my dear Ian.

Shawnee & McCoy

In my barn live 6 young cats.

In my house live 2 older boys - Shawnee & McCoy.

They turn 12 this week.

Brothers -- finding such joy as farm cats...

spotting a deer for the first time in our orchard.

Snuggled together in a basket just the right size for two.

Happy Birthday sweet boys!

Wishes...

Once upon a time, I traveled to an Antique mall in eastern Wisconsin.  Walking up and down the isles, I was hunting for treasures...and there, tucked in a shelf was the 1950's Steiff Turkey above.  I collect Steiff from that era -- these are mohair toys made in Germany.  This sweet little guy had a tag of $6.95 (far below his retail of $85+).  So, of course, he came home to Meadowview Farm to live happily ever after.

Wishing you:

blessings galore

safe travels

family memories

 

With snow & freezing rain on the way -- this is where I will be,

tucked in with Shawnee & McCoy, a vintage down comforter & a good magazine,

waiting for my Ian to arrive home.

I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving!

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.

We each have a story...

Sometimes when I walk about my house, I almost hear these quiet voices- 

each telling me their story.

The jar of marbles from games played behind Maywood School...

me with my pixie haircut & steelie in hand.

The sparkly "Dream" sign we hung on the mirror from

Dave's parent's home when we first began work on the farm...

reminding us that we could.

The original screen door from this 1857 farm --

now living in honorable retirement in our dining room. 

The Weebok shoes that Ian wore when he took to walking at 9 months in

our home in Sun Prairie.  A little guy with places to go.

The Hall Autumn Wheat custard above -- a set my mom earned one at a time

when the Jewel Tea man came to sit at her kitchen table in Monona.

And the little pumpkin in the photograph -- from my childhood. 

 A little lantern we would set on the picture window each autumn.

My mom helped me & my sisters to cherish what we had

and to celebrate each season, each special event.

So, I celebrate her too, each day, when I walk through

my home...a place she only knew about in our dreams... 

When we talked about what our farm might look like with a curtain

in the barn windows and daisy necklaces on every cow.

Even though I sang her a last good bye on Halloween some years ago,

her stories still quietly call me. 

She liked this time of year -- and loved everything about Halloween.

Happy Halloween...