💚💙

round & round

My mom gave me this, her wedding band.  It has been home on my right hand for over 20 years.  I love the detail, the modern choice of this independent woman from years ago. She had tucked it away in the jewelry box I often organized for her after she & my dad divorced.  I have loved it always, and had it fitted to wear when my mom passed on.  It has traveled with me from year to year, a reminder of the love that was a part of the choice.  It has been there when my hand has tended to the rebirth of this old farm - painting, pulling weeds and giving a goat a tussle on the head.  It has been there to encourage my Ian onward - applauding his hockey & soccer days, waving him on to Washington, sneaking a ring box to him on the Memorial Union Terrace as he prepared to ask his Emma for her "ever after".  It has been there through hard times - holding my sister's hand this past November as I talked with her in her final hour, pushing back & holding firm through life's waves.  And it has been there through joy - lifting up a brand new kitten born in our barn, readying a hayloft for a wedding, reaching out to my Dave at one more flea market or antique trip.  Round & Round & Round. 

surrounded by love...❤️

Farewell to my dear sister, Lori. What a blessing to be your little sis.

May your sweet memory be for a blessing. xxoo ❤️  11.3.2018

Little Moo

There are these moments you know you will never forget...
Such was Monday evening.
Our timid patriarch goat was ill, the vet was called.
We knew what was right.
While we waited, I sat next to Little Moo, stroking the thick black fur on his neck.
We talked about his long life at his farm and how he had blessed my life.
We listened to the lullaby he had heard at dusk a thousand times...
  a leaf against the straw, the wind on the barn flaps, the coo from the silo.

Little Moo left us quietly & bravely...just as he had lived.

gentle farewell

Saying goodbye to a pet is just never easy.  Over the years we

have become very attached to all of our dear hearts...even those

that call the barn home. 

In the early morning hours, dear Chestnut Violet ~ one of our oldest kittens
born on this farm passed on.  She will be greeted in a heavenly meadow by many
beloved siblings and one Taffy goat.

We will miss you Nutskie...

May her memory be for a blessing.

Midnight

I take pet ownership seriously.  We care for & love our

animals...investing in their well being.  So when an older stray

black cat started appearing in the barn, I was not too pleased.

Would he fight with my cats?  Would he bring illness?  

Dave called him "Midnight" - it stuck.  And over time, he stuck too.

Midnight found the stairs to our hayloft a safe place to watch from, 

and eventually join in the evening meal from...with his own dish on

the upper most step.  Over time, I coaxed him down to a lower step

to pet him.  He was an older boy...rough around the edges, wide at

the face, scarred.  After a meal, he would lay on his back, just barely on the

stair and reach out with his paw.  I learned to not worry about him

biting or scratching.  But he was a fighter, no doubt...just not in the solace 

of the barn that had slowly become home to him.

For over a year, Midnight joined our cat family in the barn...often running

across the soy bean field when my blue car turned into the driveway.
Eventually he joined the other barn cats, rubbing against my legs as a form of

socialization, and maybe a gentle thanks.  

Midnight now takes his own place in the chapters of this farm, and in the 

memory of this old heart.  He taught me not to judge too quickly.  

I still watch for him across the soy...and suspect I always will.

safe travels my son

       Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

       I took the one less traveled by, 

       And that has made all the difference.

                          Robert Frost

      My son, Ian, travels from Wisconsin to Washington at

      the end of this week to begin a new adventure.  I am 

      ever so proud of his courage.  However, this mom will

      be a tear soaked wreck...no longer will my one & only

      be a short drive away.  He is at that crux in the road...

      and off he goes!  Safe travels my love, safe travels.

lights will guide you home

Winter in the country is dark.  Quiet & dark.

Night comes early, and I am amazed that all that often

lights the farm are just 4 lights: our security & porch lights 

outside and a kitchen & livingroom light inside.  Acres

and acres and just four lights.

When I used to travel to an office in Madison, I would

return late on Thursday night.  Knowing how much I 

had missed home, Dave would "light" up the farm...

turning on every light ~~ like a beacon.  

I like both: 

Knowing home by heart...just like I do when I 

get up in the middle of the night.  

And knowing home by how it reaches out to me 

across the fields, lighting the night sky like a shooting star.

Lights will guide you home...

To my Ian... "Lights will guide you home".  (Coldplay)

Safe travels my son.

good bye dear Rosie

This evening I buried my three year old kitten, August Rose, in our apple orchard.

Rosie had lived a full three years...born under our chicken coop.  At 8 months she had 

been found with a shattered pelvic bone followed by six weeks in a carrier on our porch 

as she miraculously healed.  Two years ago she became a house cat...taking me through

my breast cancer journey.  She lived with & then through the loss of our

two older cats, Shawnee & McCoy.  This past spring she welcomed a new kitten,

Lucy Lily, into our home.  She had been quite sick this past month.  This morning, after 

a second trip to the vet, she took her last breath at her farm...with Dave, Lucy & me at her

side.  She was a cat, but she was more than that.  To me, she was courage...sweet, gentle 

courage.  Tears for a cat, again.

the tale of a coyote & a mother tiger

If you look...slightly to the right of our farmhouse, right there in the driveway, you will see my Whisper Annie heading back to the barn. This was the day Matt & Caroline visited and they photographed my little 6 year old barn cat ~~ mostly because she was just so friendly.  She was my oldest kitten born on our farm...outliving the 5 year average mortality rate for female barn cats (males only average several years).   She was a sweet, independent girl - princess at this farm.  She often spent nights on our porch, one of only two outdoor cats allowed on.  We had debated bringing her in after our boy cats passed away, but knew she would fight with Rosie...and knew she would crave her freedom.  So, we took our chances.  Two days after this picture was taken in mid-June, she disappeared, without a trace, just gone.

But the wren knew, she chattered near the corn crib, telling us tales of alarm.  Our minds traveled to so many possibilities, but in the end, we guessed it was the work of a coyote...the wren told us as much as she danced over droppings in the yard.  And Tuesday, as I watered plants, again I found droppings.  So coyote ~~  I venture to share that you may have met your match ~ when you mess with "my flock" ~ you mess with me.  Lights were lit about the farm last night...and we also learned that coyotes dislike talk radio (of course they do-such are the analogies of life).....so we broadcast WPR all night from our deck.  We have a new fence around our pasture and a hunting rifle at the ready.  

This may have started with a whisper, but it will end with fury.  

I do not have patience for such evil.

bidding good bye to an old friend

Let me not get too melodramatic, but last week I wrote 

"Cancel" across my subscription to Country Living.  I have 

subscribed to this magazine for far longer than I can recall...

back to the time when country living was hanging dried flowers 

& baskets and stenciled borders. 

I had mourned the ending of Country Home and Home 

Companion...my two favorites ~ they had not weathered the 

Great Recession.  But Country Living had hung in there, 

getting thinner with time & becoming a sales catalogue more

than inspiration.  Add to the fact that their features are online...

just didn't seem a worthy investment anymore.

I will miss finding this old friend in my mailbox, but will visit with

her from time to time in the magazine section of the library.

My only current subscription is Midwest Living...and not quite

sure how long that relationship will last.

How about you, do you still get magazines in the mail?  

bye sweet Ojibwa

I need to greet each sweet soul as they arrive & as they depart at our farm.

Today, dear little Ojibwa passed on in the barn he was born in & loved.

Too sick to recover, even after several trips to the vet and rounds of antibiotic.

Tears for a cat.

Farewell sweet jibby.

filling in

My favorite local nursery has now reduced hours and

diminished plant stock.  All the same, I recently was 

there on a mission to find some hardy fillers for my planters.

I start each spring with my beloved pansies & violas...which

tend to hang in there, but with certain disdain for hot days.  

They begin to straggle over the edges & yellow....blooming 

with their little faces all the while.  So I grab whatever 

annual looks like it will take my planters into fall.  Sedge is

my new favorite...a tall brown grass with curly tops.  Lettuce

in a deep burgundy will work...as will Asparagus Fern.

I dig them in around the yellow violas.  Smooshing in

some Thyme for good measure.  This vintage metal 

ice cream chair was missing a seat....an enamelware

pan (with several rusted holes for drainage) is perfect.

Tucked a bunny in with the plantings....why of course!

It does make me a tad sad when the summer plantings begin

to round the bend on their way to Autumn~~ but I do so

love that season, too!

How are your gardens?  Do you fill in too?

Welcome home Spring!

How we have missed you!

Now shoosh with you snow & winter!

We are all just a tad ready for warm days & sun!

and we do so with compassion in our heart

Any society, any nation, is judged on the basis of how it treats its weakest members
- the last, the least, the littlest.
Cardinal Roger Mahoney

And he arrives - 2012

The winds bring this new year to us...rolling in from the north with gusto. There is nothing gentle about this arrival, it is with a, "hold onto your hat, I'm here!". So, here we go - hang on, 2012 has arrived. Happy New Year!

picture credit

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.



so long little friends...

I do so dislike the farewells of this time of year.

When the decision is made to not cover the plants -

to let the frost come.

good byes are said in the first morning light

when their passing is mixed with magic

with sparkle

with frosty glitter

Farewell all my little friends.

I will miss you so...

Do you cry too?

Here we go - again...

I must must must start this post with the fact that

the Barn Sale is right around the corner....

October 8 & 9!

And, all the information you need to know about it

is in the following post -- or under "Barn Sales" to the right.

It is indeed a bright spot on our horizon,

and we look forward to meeting all that attend.

However, part of the here we go again has to do with

the call I got on Thursday afternoon at my office from Dave.

It began with "You had better sit down."

Seems the north winds that were reaching gusts of 40-60 mph on Thursday

took down our gigantic cottonwood tree along our driveway.

Our neighbor, Rodney, saw it literally "blow up" at the midpoint,

scattering enormous limbs everywhere.

County Road R was closed down for several hours as they dealt with debris

and a downed power line.

We will be cleaning up for some time...
those of you that attend the sale will be able to see first hand the
volume and magnitude of this tree--
it was the eagle tree, likely over 100 years old -
one of the tallest vantage points in the area.

Our immediate thanks goes to:
Neighbor Rodney for clearing our driveway before we got home.
Dale, our electrician, who worked from the call he received at 4:45 until 9:45
to restore our power (the tree tore the electrical box right off the house).
My Ian, for hopping in his car & driving home 2.5 hours to help in the aftermath.
Ian's friend, Brad, for working after dark to begin to clear the area around the house.
And the crew from the electrical company who came out against company orders at
9:30 p.m. to restring the power line from the road to the house saying that
 "no farm will be without power overnight."

Yes, here we go - again...

Please do not worry, if you attend the Barn Sale, we will not make you cut wood -
although you are welcome to take a souvenir branch home with you.
(insert tired smile here)

Marmie & me

At the end of many days I could be found sitting on the stoop of the barn door,

an orange kitty in my lap - purring, ever purring.

I would say to him, "no one in the world knows we are here except Marmie & me."

And we would sit.

All my woes would be gone.

The day's concerns would evaporate in that moment.

It would be just Marmalade and me.

Two old souls, connected.

A would be farmer and a barn cat.

Tonight I sit alone,

my Marmie buried behind the barn...

ever near the barn he loved so much,

the family he cared so deeply for,

the stoop we came to know.

I will miss those moments when it was

just Marmie & me...

for he was not just a barn cat, he was my barn cat.

May his memory be for a blessing.