~
Sunday, August 31, 2008 11:45 a.m.
70 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
For the past two days we have been at the
music festival at the bottom of the Hill,
moe.down9. It is amazing how this has grown over the
years from a small crowd of
less than 2000 to four or five times that number, with
tents covering every inch of semi-
level ground at the ski area and cars from nearly every
state in the union. A few spits of
rain showed up late Friday and early Saturday, not
dampening the spirits of those in atten-
dance at all. The weather was nearly perfect yesterday,
and today looks like a repeat. Many
years the nights have been so cold that we had to unpack
our longjohns and wooly hats, but
this year has been comfortably cool, not bone-chilling
cold. Our library held a bake sale yes-
terday, and the generosity of our patrons in the amount
of baked goods, fruits and even fresh
sweet pickles was matched by those who stopped by to
purchase some goodies; we took in
$675, with $130 of that being pure donations from kind
folks telling us to keep the change,
or putting an extra buck in the jar. Folks are always
ready to believe the worst of festivals
such as this, but I am here to tell you that bad things
happen no matter where you are.
The kindness and generosity of the moe.down crowd have
helped pay for our beau-
tiful new library building. I hope I am still making
cookies for moe.down20.
Have a festive day,
Daisy
~
~
Friday, August 29, 2008 7:00 a.m.
60 degrees, cloudy, sprinkles
A few raindrops have been falling off and on since
just before dawn,
just enough to put a shine on the picnic table. A flock
of turkeys isn’t
bothered by the weather at all as they peck through some
chaff that
blew off a hay wagon yesterday. A car is stopped, the
driver waiting
for them to get out of the way. They aren’t the
smartest birds on the
block. An old adage says that if a turkey looks up at the
sky while
it is raining, he will drown. I don’t think
this is true... Meanwhile,
the rain has stopped for now, so the birds are safe even
if it is.
I picked a half dozen nearly ripe tomatoes yesterday;
every
one had been nibbled in several places, probably by slugs.
Time to put a little epsom salts around the base of the
plants
(when the rain stops). This helps keep slugs away as well
as
giving the plants a little extra boost of magnesium. Our
grape
tomatoes are bopping right along, bright orange and sweet
as
can be. Lunch today will feature BLTs on fresh potato
bread,
all of the ingredients homegrown except for the mayo. Yum!
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
~
Thursday, August 28, 2008 7:30 a.m.
58 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
We are certainly enjoying the cooler nights, so
perfect for comfy sleep.
It looks like the trend will continue through the weekend,
so if you are
headed to Turin for the moe.down festival, make sure you
pack your
snuggies along with your fairy wings and floaty skirts.
We spent much
of yesterday in the Valley, and coming home at dusk gave
us a perfect
view of one of the most spectacular sunsets I have ever
seen. The sky
was turquoise, and the lowering sun edged every cloud at
first with a
rich rosy glow; finally every cloud was deep vibrant
crimson. I had to
pull over, as I couldn’t ogle the sky and watch for
deer at the same time.
It is that time of year again, and we just found out (the
hard way) that in-
surance will cover damage to your car if you hit a deer,
but not if you
hit several fence posts avoiding the deer. Live and learn.
Maybe every
North Country motorist should learn how to field-dress a
deer, at
least that way the meat won’t go to waste. I’m
just sayin’...
have a great day,
Daisy
~
~
Wednesday, August 27, 2008 8:00 a.m.
55 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
High thin clouds streak a pale blue sky, and the sun
seems somewhat
underpowered this morning. A slight tang of autumn is
borne on the breeze,
and a few maple leaves have started their colorful
transformation from green to
red/orange/gold. The town mower is trimming roadsides; I
am glad we had a long
walk yesterday and were able to admire the profusion of
flowers along the way. Smith
Road was awash with the best collection of wildflowers I
have ever seen. There were even
some late daisies blooming amid the azure chicory and
snowy queen anne’s lace. Goldenrod,
clovers, purple knapweed, and black eyed susans have
benefited from all the rainfall of the season,
rife with blossoms and taller than ever. It is a shame to
lose them all to the giant rotary blade, but I
guess the town crew are looking ahead to winter which
isn’t all that far off. Baby turkeys are nearly
as big as their mommas now, fawns have lost their spots,
and starlings are flocking together and per-
forming beautiful synchronized air shows late in the day.
We checked our shell beans yesterday;
the scarlet runners need another good three weeks before
they will be mature. We also have a
new bush bean called calypso; I busted open a few
fat yellow pods to reveal little oval beans
resembling a yin yang symbol. They are half black and
half white, with a contrasting spot on
each side. What an unusual bean ! There are only a few
ready now, but if we get some more
hot weather it won’t be long. I’ll bet they
turn dull grey when cooked, just like the scarlet run-
ners also loses its beautiful purple streaked hue. In
Chinese philosophy. The Yin Yang symbol
represents equilibrium in the universe; yin is the moon (female),
yang is the sun (male). This is an
oversimplification of a complex concept. Perhaps if I
carry one of the little beans in my pocket for
a while, the enormous significance of balance in every
aspect of our lives will become obvious.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday,
August 26, 2008 8:00 a.m.
54 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
After a very chilly night the sun feels good, but must be
enjoyed in the windbreak of the back porch. When I went
to dump scraps into the compost pile, I shivered in my
tee shirt
and thin cotton pants. It is supposed to be even chillier
tonight, with
temps dipping into the thirties. How in the world are
tomatoes supposed
to ripen with nights that cold ? Oh well, we will take
what we can get. Fog
sits thickly all along the Black River Valley, stretching
the whole length in
our view. Yesterday we picked and froze enough corn for
winter, so now
if the coons want to clean up after us, it won’t
bother us too much. There
are still two more plantings left to ripen, but all we
really need is enough
to have fresh now an then, and of course to it is nice
share the excess
with friends. We also picked a pailfull of green beans
that had grown
huge in our absence and ran them through our old hand-crank
bean-
frencher, neatly slicing each bean vertically into two or
three slender
strips. They are a mess to handle, with little seeds
flying all over the
kitchen, but will be very tasty in midwinter casseroles.
Deer have
eaten the tops from an entire row of beets, so that will
be the next
thing to go into the freezer. Potatoes are still growing,
but are large
and plentiful, so perhaps the next time the soil dries
out (whenever
that could possibly happen, who knows?) we will dig those.
There is plenty to do, that’s for sure.
Have an excellent day,
Daisy
~
Monday, August 25, 2008 7:30 a.m.
57 degrees, windy, partly sunny
A cloudy pall hangs over the valley on this chilly
morning.
A random sunbeam hits the scarlet runner beans at just
the
right angle to show off the neon crimson blossoms to
their best
advantage. Everything south of the garden is very dark,
some might
say gloomy. A few thunderstorms swept away the blistering
August
heat overnight and left refreshing coolness in its place.
It is wonderful
to be seeing this particular view, shadowy as it is,
after more than a week
away from Gomer Hill. We had perfect weather for our
vacation, and the
harbor view from the porch was interesting, as were the
day trips to see
the vast Maine ocean and quaint coastal towns along the
way. Great food,
lots of laughs, and hanging out with good friends is
always enjoyable; yet,
there’s no place like home, know what I mean? The
lush green of a newly
mown lawn and jars full of sunflowers and glads were a
welcome sight at
the end of a long drive, and our pets greeted us with a
flurry of tail-wag-
ging and loud purrs. The gardens are still soggy after
the hard rain early
last week, but that didn’t slow things down much. We
have caught up
with broccoli, having picked seven or eight times from
the early crop;
our later sowing of 40 additional plants has yet to put
out the first main
head. Last year we had a serious broccoli failure due to
deer damage,
but so far, so good. We picked a few dozen golden grape
tomatoes
and are seeing the first hints of pink on our larger ones,
and peppers
are gaining size nicely. Today we will pick corn for the
freezer, if the
local gang of raccoons has been considerate. One big
critter has been
seen in the garage this past week, and a few stalks have
been bent and
ears eaten. Coons are not very good at concealing
evidence of their raids,
littering the ground with gnawed cobs and leaving tracks
galore in the soft
dirt. We don’t mind sharing, but that term implies
that we get to enjoy
some corn too. After we pick our fill today, we will
spray some hot
pepper solution on the succeeding plantings to discourage
the little
bandits. There is plenty to do both outdoors and in on
this fine
morning, and as the old saying goes: Well begun is
half done.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
August 24, 2008
Tearing Down
To Rebuild
Rethinking
Complaining
From Daily Om
We all know
someone who has elevated the process of complaining to a
high art. Sometimes funny,
sometimes exhausting, these people have the ability to
find a problem just about anywhere. In its
more evolved form, complaining is simply the ability to
see what’s not working, in one’s own life
or in the external world, and it can be quite useful if
followed to its natural conclusion—finding a
solution and applying it. However, many of us don’t
get that far, and we find that complaining has
become an end in itself. In small doses, this is not a
big problem, but if complaining has become
a huge part of our identities, it may be time to take a
good look at how we are spending our energy.
Complaining is a person’s way of acknowledging that
they are not happy with the way things are.
In a metaphorical way, when we complain or criticize, we
are tearing down an undesirable structure
in order to make room for something new. But if all we do
is tear down, never bothering to summon
the creative energy required to create something new, we
are not fulfilling the process. In fact, we are
at risk for becoming a stagnant and destructive force in
our own lives and in the lives of the people
we love. Another issue with complaining is that we
sometimes tend to focus on other people, whom
we can’t change, as a way of deflecting attention
from the one person we can change—ourselves.
So transforming complaining into something useful is a
twofold process that begins with turning our
critical eye to look at things we can actually do
something about, and then taking positive action.
When we find ourselves complaining, the last thing we
need to do is get down on ourselves.
Instead, we can begin by noticing that we are in the mode
of wanting to make some changes.
But rather than lashing out at somebody or an
organization, we can look for an appropriate
place to channel this energy—not our neighbor’s
house, but possibly parts of our own.
Finally, we can ask ourselves the positive question of
what we would like to create in the
place of whatever it is we want to tear down. When we do
this, we channel a negative habit
into a creative process, thus using our energy to change
the world around us in a positive way.
~
August 23, 2008
The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and
down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated
eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her
face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the
fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
~
August 22,
2008
Thistles by Ted
Hughes
Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands
of men
Thistles spike the summer air
And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.
Every one a revengeful burst
Of resurrection, a grasped fistful
Of splintered weapons and Icelandic frost thrust up
From the underground stain of a decayed Viking.
They are like pale hair and the gutterals of dialects.
Every one manages a plume of blood.
Then they grow grey like men.
Mown down, it is a feud. Their sons appear
Stiff with weapons, fighting back over the same ground.
~
August 21, 2008
Children Of Mother Nature : Trees And People
From Daily
Om
A tree that is beginning to grow sends roots down
into Mother Earth even as it reaches and opens
to the sky above, seeking nourishment from the sun and
the moisture in the air and in the rain that
falls. In the same way, we can envision ourselves as
treelike beings, imagining that we have roots
reaching down into the earth, energetic strands that keep
us connected. At the same time, the
crowns of our heads lift and open to receive nourishment
from above. Just like a tree, we seek
the sunshine and water we need to survive and thrive.
Both trees and people serve as conduits
for the intermingling of the opposite and complementary
elements of air, water, sun, and earth.
We also share creative ways of growing, regardless of the
challenges we come up
against in our environments. Trees will even grow through
rock, shattering it, in their
effort to reach the air and light they need to survive.
We are similarly resilient, with a
built-in propensity for growth and the conditions that
promote it. We find creative ways
around the obstacles we confront as we move along our
paths, moving toward the light that
feeds us, just as trees grow around other trees and rocks
as they make their way upward.
Contemplating the ways in which trees and people mirror
one another brings us into
alignment with the reality that we are part of Mother
Nature. Our children, and the trees
and their children, will live together on the earth as
long as we all survive, sharing the elements
and serving together to forward nature’s plan.
Walking in a forest can be a meditation, the inter-
weaving lives of all living creatures and the planet on
which we all take root and reach for the sky.
~
August 20, 2008
Summer Sun
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
~
August 19, 2008
Remembering the Moment: Enjoying Life
From Daily Om
Life, in all of its fullness, is happening right now.
While our thoughts are sometimes elsewhere,
beautiful opportunities and moments are being passed over
and lost to the flow of time. And
though we cannot possibly fully experience each leaf that
falls to the ground, sometimes we
get so attached to reaching our goals that we don’t
pay attention to the wonder all around us.
When we do that, we live in a world that exists only in
our heads, while we miss life itself.
There is so much to be enjoyed and appreciated that we
need to remember to pay attention
to the present moment, because it is the only space in
which we can experience being alive.
We learn from our past, but dwelling on it keeps us from
being fully present to life in the moment.
We create our lives with our thoughts, but focusing so
firmly on our imagined future keeps us from
co-creating with the universe, so we might never allow
ourselves to live our dreams as they manifest.
It’s possible to be so happy and comfortable in our
inner worlds that we lose touch with the business
of life. We may enjoy spending large portions of time in
meditation, or focused on our thoughts.
Life must be attended to, and if we are wise, we can
enjoy it at the same time.
We can awaken ourselves to the moment we are living right
now by taking a deep
breath and simply looking around. In doing so, we refocus
our attention to our location
in the real world. Then we can learn to appreciate the
process of working toward our goals
as much as their attainment. Balancing ourselves between
the present moment and eternity, we
can experience and enjoy the full range of reality
available to us as spiritual beings living on earth.
~
August 18,2008
Summer Rain
by Raymond A. Foss
A break in the heat
away from the front
no thunder, no lightning,
just rain, warm rain
falling near dusk
falling on eager ground
steaming blacktop
hungry plants
thirsty
turning toward the clouds
cooling, soothing rain
splashing in sudden puddles
catching in open screens
that certain smell
of summer rain
~
August 17, 2008
Moon Song
by Robert Service
A child saw in the morning skies
The dissipated-looking moon,
And opened wide her big blue eyes,
And cried: "Look, look, my lost balloon !"
And clapped her rosy hands with glee:
"Quick, mother! Bring it back to me."
A poet in a lilied pond
Espied the moon's reflected charms,
And ravished by that beauty blonde,
Leapt out to clasp her in his arms.
And as he'd never learnt to swim,
Poor fool ! that was the end of him.
A rustic glimpsed amid the trees
The bluff moon caught as in a snare.
"They say it do be made of cheese,"
Said Giles, "and that a chap bides there. . . .
That Blue Boar ale be strong, I vow --
The lad's a-winkin' at me now."
Two lovers watched the new moon hold
The old moon in her bright embrace.
Said she: "There's mother, pale and old,
And drawing near her resting place."
Said he: "Be mine, and with me wed,"
Moon-high she stared . . . she shook her head.
A soldier saw with dying eyes
The bleared moon like a ball of blood,
And thought of how in other skies,
So pearly bright on leaf and bud
Like peace its soft white beams had lain;
Like Peace! . . . He closed his eyes again.
Child, lover, poet, soldier, clown,
Ah yes, old Moon, what things you've seen !
I marvel now, as you look down,
How can your face be so serene ?
And tranquil still you'll make your round,
Old Moon, when we are underground
~
August 16, 2008
Growing Pains : Difficult Times
From Daily
Om
It can be very challenging to maintain a positive
attitude and a measure of faith when you are
in the midst of difficult times. This is partly because
we tend to think that if the universe loves us
we will experience that love in the form of positive
circumstances. However, we are like children,
and the universe is our wise mother who knows what our
souls need to thrive better than we do.
Just as a young child does not benefit from getting
everything she wants, we also benefit from times
of constriction and difficulty to help us grow and learn.
If we keep this in mind, and continue to
trust that we are loved even when things are hard, it
helps us bear the difficult time with grace.
This period of time in history is full of difficulty for
a lot of human beings, and you may feel
less alone knowing you are not being singled out. There
are extreme energy changes pulsing
through the universe at every level and, of course, we
are all part of the growing process and
the growing pains. It helps if we remember that life is
one phase after another and that this
difficult time will inevitably give way to something new
and different. When we feel over-
whelmed we can comfort ourselves with the wise saying:
This too shall pass.
At the same time, if you truly feel that nothing is going
right for you, it’s never a bad idea to
examine your life and see if there are some changes you
can make to alleviate some of the
difficulty. Gently and compassionately exploring the
areas giving you the most trouble may
reveal things you are holding onto and need to release:
unprocessed emotions, unresolved
transitions, or negative ways of looking at yourself or
reality. As you take responsibility
for the things you can change, you can more easily
surrender to the things you can’t,
remembering all the while that this phase will, without
doubt, give way to another.
~
Friday, August 15, 2008 6:10 a.m.
56 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
Wow, that was a stunning sunrise !
There is just enough of a break in the
clouds to the east to allow the neon orange
sun a majestic slow ascent. We are headed off
to the coast of Maine for our annual summer break.
I hope you will enjoy the poems and essays I have
selected for this space in my absence. Our pets will
have some wonderful company this week while we
are gone, and the gardens will be tended as if we
had never left. There are some things not available
at any price, like friends and family that step up to
the plate and carry on the work with love and care.
Life is good !
Daisy
~
Thursday,
August 14, 2008 9:00 a.m.
58 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
It seems not to matter how the day begins any more, as
rain has fallen almost every afternoon for most of the
summer.
To look outside right now one would assume that it would
be a
fine day for any outdoor activity. Then, wham! The
next thing you
know, you are riding your bike through steadily
increasing goo or try-
ing to decide where to hide from lightning bolts while on
a hike. This
happened yesterday, with nearly an inch of rain falling
during one spec-
tacular thundershower. It was a race to finish picking
beans before the
storm hit, and I got thoroughly wet finishing the job. We
have plenty of
later beans barely in blossom, so I didn’t care if I
broke the standard
rule that prohibits picking in the rain; these beans were
seriously ready.
The variety is Jade, and every plant held about
twenty long straight
beans, perfectly ripe. I picked two spackle buckets full,
and took
care to wash all of the mud from them before preparing
them for
the freezer. I wonder if I could use the washing machine
for that ?
Next time, I will give it a try. I find our old top-loading
washer to
be quite useful in drying large quantities of greens; I
wash them in a
big basin, drain well, and wrap in a clean linen towel.
Place it in the
washer and set it on spin. It is really no
different than a salad spinner,
only much larger. We enjoyed fresh whole beans with our
dinner, barely
cooked with a dab of butter and fresh snipped basil.
Along with boiled
new potatoes, homegrown chicken, and crunchy cabbage slaw,
it was
a memorable meal. We walked after dinner under the glow
of a waxing
gibbous moon, nearly full and casting its silver glow
over all. Crickets
are certainly becoming louder every night, offering their
steady high-
pitched chiming that fits perfectly with the moonlight
and late summer
chill. I didn’t see any shooting stars last night,
and although I was awake
at 2:30, I was too snug in my bed to venture out in the
damp night air. I
peeked out the window, and perhaps if I had seen one I
could have been
lured out, but the stars within the frame stayed put. The
moon will be full
on Saturday night, rising just before 8:00 DST. Wherever
you are, try
to catch a few moonbeams, maybe even become a little
moonstruck.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, August 13, 2008 8:30 a.m.
62 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Bright sunshine is a welcome sight on this cool damp
morning;
maybe yesterday’s laundry will finally dry. Not long
after I hung
out dozens of towels and bed linens, it poured. We had
periods
of hot sun and heavy rain trading places all day long;
according to
the rain gauge, 1.6 inches of rain fell, at times
flooding the yard and
cascading in rippling sheets off the roof. For just an
instant this morn-
ing, fog gathered in the west and started to roll towards
the house. By
the time I buttered my cinnamon toast, it had dissipated.
Usually fog
creeps slowly up from the valley, never from the western
forest. Last
night I slept right through what is reported to have been
some crazy
meteor activity, with bright points of light streaming in
every direction
during a short period of time. I also never heard a
raccoon chattering
loudly right under my open window; I must have been
pooped. It looks
like we might have a chance to see more shooting stars
tonight; for sure,
I will set the alarm for 2:00, which is just before
moonset. It is also time
to place our Havahart trap by the corn patch. So far no
damage has
been done, but it is still a day or two away from being
perfectly
ripe. Raccoons seem to be as picky as humans about the
quality
of sweet corn. And now, off to pick some very muddy beans.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, August 12, 2008 9:00 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Many would call this a mostly cloudy morn,
but I prefer the more
optimistic term partly sunny. It’s not so
much a glass half-empty or
half-full thing, more of a thank goodness I
have a glass. Some of the
huge grey clouds look like they could be carrying quite a
load of water,
but if rain holds off until later in the day, I should be
able to catch up
with laundry and tend to a few garden chores. The first
crop of broc-
coli continues to send out plentiful secondary shoots, a
little smaller
every time but still enough to keep us in side dishes for
at least another
week. The fall crop will probably send up their central
heads right around
Labor Day. For once, deer have not touched either
planting of broccoli (so far).
It may be the soap shavings and hair clippings that are
liberally sprinkled around
each plant, or (more likely) the german shepherd that has
been staying with us
the past few weeks. I guess our little nine-pound rattdog
doesn’t pose much
of a threat. I know there are scads of beans to pick as
well, being unable to
harvest them while wet. It looks like the day will be
filled with pleasantly homely
tasks, repetitive and calming in an odd way, especially
after the frenzy and ex-
citement of a festive long weekend. Earlier this morning
a pair of robins set
up a dreadful hue and cry from a low branch of the big
tree by the barn,
and I found a nestling lying on the stone driveway
underneath. The little
guy wasn’t moving very much, although it showed
signs of life when I
picked it up and cradled it between my hands. The
heartbeat was strong,
but it seemed to be unable to move its legs. I took it
into the kitchen and
put it on a soft towel in the bottom of a large pail so
it could rest in a quiet
place. When I returned, its spark was gone. I have hand-raised
young birds
before, but this one was too damaged from its fall. We
are amazed that birds
ever grow to maturity with all of the perils that await:
cats, coyotes, snakes,
coons, bigger birds, rough weather, starvation, parasites,
the list is seemingly
endless. And yet, we still have scads of birds here on
Tug Hill, with certain
species growing in number every year. There seem to be
more mourning
doves than ever before, and their soft croon is often the
first thing we
hear in a still midsummer dawn. Finally, star-gazing was
out of the
question last night, when the Perseid meteor shower was
at its peak;
there were simply too many clouds. Perhaps we can see the
trailing
edge of the event in the wee hours after moonset, around
2:00 a.m.
If you happen to be awake at that time, take a peek
outdoors.
Have a great day and a wonderful night,
Daisy
~
Monday, August 11, 2008 8:30 a.m.
55 degrees, breezy, raining
I missed writing yesterday, as we were busy seeing
the
last of our guests off after a wonderful weekend
celebration.
Saturday’s weather turned out to be just about
perfect for a
party outdoors, full of warm sunshine with a cool starry
sky at
night. We sat out very late around a blazing fire and
watched
dozens of shooting stars, a preview to the Perseid meteor
shower that will be at its peak early tomorrow morning.
It
looks like the weather might not be so cooperative for
the
main celestial event, so we shall be happy we caught the
coming attractions trailer. Yesterday the weather
remained
fine until after the last tent was struck, with big
clouds and blue
sky competing for space. We took a trip to the wind farm,
which
some of our downstate friends had never seen. It is
indeed an im-
pressive sight, even for those of us who see it often.
There are
two huge cranes looming above the site, as maintenance
and
repair work continue on the gigantic towers. After a late
lunch
I gave in to the urge to rest, and was lulled to sleep by
the drum-
ming of rain on the tin, with some thunder and lightning
adding
to the overall ambience of a big comfy chair and warm
fleecy blanket. We have a fire blazing in the kitchen
range on this chilly damp morning, and I believe a
blueberry pancake brunch is called for, with per-
haps some savory sausage and sunnyside-up eggs.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, August 9, 2008 8:30 a.m.
64 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
What a wonderful surprise this warm and sunny morning is
!
We were hoping for nice weather so our out-of-town guests
can enjoy the full beauty of a summer day on Gomer Hill.
The
view has been obligingly picturesque, with wild turkeys
grazing
in the east meadow and twin fawns cavorting with their
mother
nearby. The gardens are spruced up and looking their best,
with
dahlias, gladiolas and sunflowers just starting to take
charge, lend-
ing their bright colors everywhere both outdoors and in.
Yesterday
was rainy for much of the day, but there was space in
between the
showers to walk the meadow paths and breathe deeply the
freshly
washed air that follows most summer showers. Although
ragweed
bloomed early this summer, frequent rains have kept the
pollen
down to a manageable level for those among us with
allergies.
Today will be a fine one for catching up with friends and
celebrating the joy of simply being alive.
Have a festive day,
Daisy
~
Friday, August 8, 2008 11:30 a.m.
62 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
A few sprinkles of rain now and then have made the
morning
work interesting, dashing out into the garden between
showers
to grab veggies and herbs for the evening meal. Towels
and table-
cloths hanging on the line to dry might still be there
tomorrow, but
that’s okay, and one reason that I keep picking up
linens at tag sales
and flea markets. I have a nice collection of vintage
table covers, most
of them from the ‘50s, the kind with fruit and
flowers in colorful border
patterns. I found a beautiful richly-hued one in a free
box a few weeks
ago; it was yellow with age, had many stains, and was
chewed along
the edges by something-or-other while it was in storage.
After soaking
it in oxy-clean for two days, I trimmed and hemmed the
edges, and now
have a colorful cover for a small kitchen table. I love
giving well-used items
an extension on their warranties. It’s like anything
else (including our physical,
mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies) that’s a
little worn out; give it a good
cleaning and keep on truckin’. We picked a whole
mess of beans yesterday
just before a pretty good thunderstorm hit Gomer Hill; we
could hear it com-
ing long before we saw the wall of pitch-black clouds
that slowly overran
most of our lovely blue sky. I picked the last bean just
as big fat drops
splatted onto my back, quite refreshing after the heat
the task generated.
It rained for a few hours, and now that we have a new
rain gauge, I can
tell you we received just over a half inch from that
storm. After dinner,
sky had cleared enough to reveal a bright almost-half
moon heading
towards the horizon, edging the remaining clouds with
silver. Today’s
date (080808) is considered to be very lucky to many
people, and
there are a lot of weddings taking place. Have you
noticed that if
you turn an 8 sideways, it is also the standard symbol
for infinity ?
And of course, the circle represents the great wheel of
life
with its constantly renewing eternal energy flow. What
sig-
nificance could this symbolism have in your daily plan ?
Have an infinitely great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, August 7, 2008 8:30 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Bright morning sun is always a good way to start
the day !
Even if we have had rain nearly every single day this
summer,
we have had at least an equal amount of breezy blue sky
filled
with day-dreamy clouds. A perfect balance of sunshine and
rain
has given us one of our most productive garden years ever
(so far).
The only problem I can see is that the weather that has
kept our
crops wonderfully healthy has also produced some of the
most
hard-core stubborn weeds we have ever seen. At least the
soil
has remained moist and friable, and even the most deep-rooted
of them usually pull with ease. Beans are the order of
the day,
with many ready for the freezer and more just putting on
their
first blossoms. The scarlet runner beans are a riot of
color,
ornamental in their masses of bright crimson flowers
twining
their way up tall poles, almost neon in their brilliance.
Some
of the vines have topped the eight foot maple saplings
and have
started to head back down towards the ground. We are
expecting
friends for the weekend, and if we can get the weather to
cooperate,
many hands will make light work of the jades and blue
lakes that are
gathering speed as I type. Our mid-season row of lettuce
has just
about maxed out, perfect timing as the green ice is
starting to form
tender curly heads. Our salad bowl has been filled lately
with three
kinds of romaine, red deer-tongue, bibb buttercrunch, and
several
varieties of red leaf and green savoyed lettuces, all
from one packet
of Fedco seeds marked summer mix. Spinach has
passed the tender
baby greens stage and moved into the lasagna realm, or
pasta florentine,
or perhaps green eggs and ham. (Yes, there is such a
thing, chopped
sautéed spinach mixed into scrambled eggs with leftover
ham, covered
with cheddar cheese, yum!) Yesterday we planted what will
probably
be the last rows of lettuce and spinach; we should be
enjoying
our salad days well into October if all goes well. And
now,
off to wander the paths with the dogs in search of
who knows what. It is a grand morning;
breathe deep and enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, August 6, 2008 8:00 a.m.
67 degrees, breezy, sprinkling
Light rain is falling, the trailing end of a front
that brought
thunderstorms trudging across Tug Hill during the wee
hours.
The showers come and go, trading places with brief sunny
spells
that drench the scene with light as thoroughly as the
rain spreads water.
Right now it is both sunny and raining, but I can find no
rainbow. We
could see clouds moving in as we walked after dinner last
night, slowly
engulfing the waxing crescent moon as it headed towards
the horizon.
We heard the first shrill songs of a few crickets in the
meadows, a true
sign that summer is well under way. I can see big patches
of pale blue
sky here and there, but the gardens will probably be too
wet to enter
today. I would like to be able to sow one last row of
lettuce and spinach
before the week is over. We have the broccoli and beans
under control
at last, and no real big jobs looming until the corn
ripens. Thank goodness
we got the lawn mowed yesterday. A blue jay is hollering
at his kids from
the high branches of a white birch tree, a single sharp
chiming command
that would stop me in mid-shenanigan if I were a
fledgling. We usually
don’t see jays in our neck of the woods until the
sunflowers have gone
to seed, and then they hang around until the first big
snowstorm drives
them into the sheltering forest. Perhaps they are
currently feasting
on hollyhock seeds, which are plentiful at this time of
year. I have
never (to my knowledge) seen a baby jay, but now I will
start
looking; they resemble the adult, but smaller and more
grey
than blue. They remain with the parents for two months
after fledging, so we have a good chance of catching a
glimpse one as long as the parents remain in our yard.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, August 5, 2008 9:00 a.m.
75 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Basking in early morning sun on the back porch became a
bit too warm as evaporating dew added to the overall
humidity.
If the breeze continues, it just might offset the steamy
heat that high
noon will surely bring. I am glad we were able to get all
of the beans
picked during yesterday’s cloudy afternoon; a cool
wind kept us com-
pany as we bent to the task. We also managed to bust up
about half of
the gigantic maple rounds harvested earlier in the summer,
balancing them
on the hydraulic log-splitter with a front-end loader and
log tongs, ready to
leap out of the way as the huge pieces fell where gravity
took them. Each
round should provide enough firewood for about a week of
winter heat.
We thought rain might move in, as the sky was smoky-grey
with low
clouds for much of the afternoon. Later in the day, an
ominously dense
mass of dark clouds moved down the Black River Valley,
and it looked
like they may have had one heck of a storm down there
that lasted quite a
while. We stayed high and dry here on Gomer Hill, and
enjoyed a beautiful
sunset full of tangerine-streaked clouds perfectly
complimenting a deep blue
sky. After a late supper, the cumulus parted from time to
time to reveal the
night sky hung with countless stars, some of which
streaked across the sky
in a final blaze of glory. These few shooting stars are
the precursor to the
annual Perseid meteor shower, which this year will be at
its best in the wee
hours of August 12th. The moon will set around 1:00 a.m.,
after which
the viewing will be very good if it is a cloudless night.
Get outdoors
on any night during the first three weeks of August, and
chances are
good of catching at least a few falling stars. Catch a
falling star
and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day...
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, August 4, 2008 8:00 a.m.
74 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
After a cool breezy night the sun is warming the
Hill nicely this morning.
There are massive cloud banks stalled out here and there,
not seeming
to budge an inch. One bunch that looked like a fluffy
white dog a half
hour ago is still in the same spot. The sun is shining
steadily and the
edges of every formation gleam silver in the slanting
bright morning
beams. We had a wonderful bike ride yesterday, staying
mostly on
back roads but also venturing into the woods on a logging
trail to view
a distant beaver pond. As we expected, the trail was rich
with mudholes,
many of them traversing the entire path and too deep to
manage easily.
The bottoms were oozy mud, not the harder shale of more
established
roads. We finally leaned the bikes up against a tree,
hung a bag from a
high branch so we wouldn’t misplace them, and took
off on foot to the
pond’s edge. Two old beaver lodges were overgrown
with greenery
that had sprouted from the construction materials, and
one new lodge
could be seen on the far side of the pond. The
water’s surface was still
as glass and covered with flat green leaves that had come
down in recent
storms. Ferns and other undergrowth were huge and cast an
emerald halo
about the entire basin. We did not catch any beavers at
their work, but
did see many frogs and one blue heron swooping gracefully
above it all.
We were amazed that mosquitoes were not a problem deep in
the forest;
even as close as we stood to water they were scarce. We
ran into a rain
shower on our return trip, but it was brief and felt
wonderful, cooling us
after toiling up the biggest hill on the route. We had
intended to scan
the night sky for meteors after dinner, but clouds had
moved in and
the sky was a blank slate. After the dew evaporates we
will pick
beans for the freezer, a pleasant task when done with
friends.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, August 3, 2008 8:00 a.m.
60 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
The leaves are slightly stirring at the very tops
of the tallest trees
along the road, but here at ground level it is calm as
can be. A doe
and two fawns drift slowly along the east meadow’s
edge, browsing
on the tender new growth of grasses and legumes, a second
growth of
hay that will only be harvested by deer and woodchucks.
We hope that
the new shoots and leaves will be so tasty that
herbivorous critters will
not be tempted to shear off any more of our garden greens.
We did not
set foot in the vegetable patch yesterday except to grab
some carrots and
beets for supper. We hope that it will be dry enough
today to pick some
more beans for the freezer, but there is a small chance
of rain in the fore-
cast. Our corn is slowly edging towards ripeness, with
fully formed ears
swelling a bit more every day; it looks like about ten
more days until that
sweet treat hits our table. Last night we headed over to
the Constableville
Fireman’s Field Days, something I haven’t done
for many years. The place
was jam-packed full of folks we hadn’t seen in a
long time, and even though
there was a steady misty drizzle falling, no one seemed
to notice. This is a real
old-fashioned good time, with traditional carnival games
and a greased pole
climb that looked like it was physically impossible as
well as potentially
dangerous. The crowd went wild every time someone reached
the
top of the thirty foot pole, and the fast slide back down
looked
fun if a bit tricky. We drove home over back roads,
mindful of
deer and other hill-dwellers who might suddenly appear
out
of nowhere. The roads are so narrow and tree-lined that
it is like driving through a tunnel, with headlights on
high-
beams barely showing the way. I hike and ride bike
along these same roads in broad daylight, but by
night in a car they take on an entirely different
aspect. It’s as different as night and day.
Hmmm, makes sense.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, August 2, 2008 8:00 a.m.
64 degrees, breezy, cloudy
It is a damp and chilly morning, ripe with the
possibility of rain.
That is just as well, as there are many indoor tasks to
be accomplished,
pushed aside in light of all of the recent outdoor jobs
that loomed large.
We may finally have a handle on the weeds that have
thrived in the per-
fect growing conditions along with our vegetables. Beans
and broccoli
are the main crops du jour and it has been a good
haul so far. Thinning
out lettuce, spinach, beets, and carrots requires not
only time bent over
in rows but also long spells standing at the kitchen
faucet to remove gar-
den soil. And of course, mowing the lawn at least weekly
is a daunting
task when the lawn is as large as ours and peppered with
dozens of
landscaping features. When we first move to Gomer Hill in
the mid-‘70s,
we planted rugosa roses, privet, apple trees,
potentilla, grapes, and forsythia.
As the years went by, birch, maple, blue spruce, and
balsam were added. As
friends gifted us with lilies and iris from their own
gardens, they were put into
long beds here and there. There are plenty of obstacles
to mow around, but
the overall effect is worth the detours. Add the mile or
so of pathways that
we mow through the meadows, and that’s a heap of
lawn. We don’t use
a riding mower, so the job keeps us out of the gym all
summer long;
there is always plenty of cardiovascular exercise to be
had for free
on a little farm like ours. Today’s more pleasant
tasks will include
baking, loaves of whole-grain bread, dark chocolate
cookies,
and a spicy nutmeg cake studded with fresh wild
blueberries.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Friday, August 1, 2008 7:00 a.m.
67 degrees, calm, hazy sunshine
It is very peaceful on Gomer Hill this morning: no
rain, no wind, very
few insects strafing us as we sit on the porch.
Mosquitoes (dare I even
say this aloud) have been few and far between this summer,
possibly being
drowned in their breeding pools before they have had a
chance to take flight.
Deerflies were abundant yesterday as we walked along a
back road at high
noon. Thank goodness I was wearing a hat and my back was
protected by
a padded pack. Even three or four deerflies can seem like
dozens with their
constant circling and diving. Even when I am riding a
bike they manage to
keep pace and circle my head, an amazing feat of
logistics, seeming to defy
several laws of physics. Wild blueberries are just
beginning to ripen in our
secret backwoods location, and enough were picked for a
nutmeg-rich
cake as well as a pancake breakfast or two. In about a
week’s time
they will be hanging off the bushes like grapes, and if
we can beat the
bears to them we will be able to put quite a few in the
freezer for winter
breakfasts. The air is slowly clearing; light fog has
lifted, and a hundred-
foot row of dahlias across the road is radiant with
magenta and crimson
flowers. This is our second year growing these annual
ornamentals, and
we have planted two long hedges of them just for
decoration. As cut
flowers, they are short-lived, and best enjoyed as they
nod in situ
atop rich dark green shiny leaves. First thing in the
morning is best,
illuminated by the slanting first rays of sun
highlighting each blossom
like Broadway theater footlights. This is the first day
of August, as
well as a new moon, so any new venture undertaken today
should
meet with success. I just made that up, but why
shouldn’t it be so ?
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
|
