Oh, look! He’s coming to see me.
And Mamma said, “No,No, No!”
A friend commented on yesterday’s blog that art sometimes brings music to her thoughts. I smiled a little bit, “cuz as I was downloading these photos, Doris Day started singing, well sort of, I started singing, hoping to sound like Doris.
I thought I sounded wonderful; Diesel started howling, Lexi hid in the bathroom, and Finnegan covered his head.
Richard just asked to be picked up, he thought I must have been in pain or something, I guess.
Here are some of the lyrics in case you want to sing along.
By the light of the silvery moon
I want to spoon
To my honey, I croon love’s tune
Honey moon, keep a-shinin’ in June
Your silvery beams will bring love’s dreams
We’ll be cuddling’ soon (my favorite part)
By the light of the moon.
By the light, not the dark, but the light
Of the silvery moon, not the sun but the moon
I wanna spoon, not croon, but spoon
to my honey I’ll croon love’s tune
Honeymoon, honeymoon, honeymoon
Keep a-shinin’ in June
Your silvery beam will bring love’s dreams
We’ll be cuddling’ soon
By the silvery moon
To be quite honest I only knew about a sentence and a half…I was delighted to hear the cuddling’ part.
Now, back to work I must go; the kale is gathered chopped and frozen, the last of the peas are shucked and frozen, the garden is weeded, a painting is nearly completed, finishing up some of my new obsession, strawberry honey preserves. I’ll share the recipe with you here: strawberry yumminess.
Today I am sure no one needs to be told that the more birds a yard can support, the fewer insects there will be to trouble the gardener the following year.
And, every gardener knows that every bird destroyed, and every nest robbed, is an unmistakable surge in insects, a struggle we know only too well.
Gardeners and farmers have a personal interest, and a strong one, in the preservation of birds.
The garden is a doorway to other worlds; one of them, of course, is the world of birds.
The garden is their dinner table, bursting with bugs and worms and succulent berries.
But, if you please, could you kindly leave me some radishes.
Walking and conversation seem to go hand in hand. Inspired conversation, thoughts from deep within, the longer the walk the deeper the conversation.
I think I could write an interesting memoir of outstanding walks I have taken with others, during which togetherness was not only shared but settled tenderly into the landscape of memory.
When I was a child, my sisters and I used to walk, from the busstops to home, through parks, across fields and up and down hills.
We talked of many things, some meaningful (to very young children) and some completely outrageous, and quite a few very tall stories emerged on those walks.
Whatever the content of the talking, those walks and those conversations remain important memories for me of my attachment to my family, and to nature.
We used to stop along the way to look for Lady Slippers, a protected native orchid. We found a few. We found Poison Ivy more often.
The content of these walks have become blurred, now they’re more a painting in my memory. There, As a whole, no particular parts. Cherished.
“As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”
– Henry David Thoreau
Get out there, it’s good medicine.
I am the walkingist girl around, we (my husband or daughter and I) try to put in 6 miles a day, though we don’t always achieve this; weather has her own say in things.
Life on the farm can be disappointing as well as exciting Working in the home is a great way to pass a long winter. We added three new llamas to our herd this month. We welcomed Giovanni, Sweet Phantom’s Cafe, and Cinnamon. Three beautiful llamas! Friday after noon, the sun came out and the earth began to warm. It approached 60’ish. In February. In New York. And though I know that this is just an Indian Spring (?), I still enjoyed our time outside. This was a big blessing in an otherwise chaotic and at times dis heartening day…
My facebook status…by 5pm on Friday, says it all: I would love to say it was a wonderful day, I really would. But,I have owned llamas for 8yrs and have been spit on twice up til today; Today…I have been spit on 10 times before 9:30am..built 600ft of fence in 6hrs. to be lept over in 30seconds flat, placed in another pasture jumped on, then out of a five ft chain link fence with a hot ribbon one foot above that…I love my job, I love my job…I really do. tomorrow, back to the old drawing board. For tonight I am tired, and hungry. Oh, but there is more, Finnegan (our dog) got sick all over the kitchen…because he ate a pair of pants, one of my Roosters died, and our truck is at this moment still stuck in the muddy pasture….
Ever have one of those days, days that make you question your choices, and try your resolve? Sometimes all you need is a warm meal and a good night’s sleep to bring things into perspective. Saturday, I spent the day inside doing indoor chores.(soothing my bruised pride while preparing spaghetti and meatballs for a dinner with friends) We never have time to do indoor chores when the days are long and the nights are warm. I’ve picked out a new color for the living room wall; I think a shade of slate blue will go nicely with the lightly white wash of the barn board stair case and accent wall. What do you think?
And, so, life on the farm continues and outside chores must be done. There is no rest for the modern day farmer.
The farm is mostly mud now, and the trees are bare sticks.. But,for visitors to our little cottage farm, I think a warmth is still felt, as they are greeted by a waddling of ducks,vivacious chickens bustling about , the big black dogs,Finnegan and Lexi, all announcing your arrival with their quacking, clucking, and barking. As you wonder up the path; looking off to the far fenced pasture you’ll see the llamas outside their barn intently watching over your arrival and a young cria running to catch up to his (pseudo) mother…Andy still likes to stick fairly close to KatDoll.
I can hear the birds starting to sing. I hope that you’ve had time to enjoy some oddly warm weather these past few days.
Dear Lord, I thank You for the Grace of being alive this morning; I thank You for the sleep that has refreshed me; I thank You for the chance to make a new beginning.