January 24, 2012

January 24th already. Can it be that we've been here for almost a year already? Hard to imagine. It is gray, gray, gray and cloudy, alternating between rain and snow every other day. The worst. The gray weather doesn't do much for my mid-January mood. I have been reflecting today on loss. It's not in my basic nature to be moody, but today seems the perfect day for it. 2011 alone brought a lot of loss in my life. Starting with these two.

These were our babies. Boomer, my big black lab. A perfect prince of a dog. I suppose everyone says that, but he in fact was a prince. The little one is Poppy, a little girl who never did a thing wrong in her entire short life. (Boomer did lots of unruly stuff early on in his life, but we always forgave him for it.) A freak series of unrelated events happened. Poppy got very sick with an apparently incurable wasting disease. She also had a torn cruciate ligament which we were going to have fixed, but she was too ill to withstand the surgery. At the same time, in a romp with another dog, Boomer tore his ACL and his meniscus ligaments in the same knee. Born with OCD (osteo-chondroitin dessicans) he never had good joints to begin with and had had a lifetime of pain relievers and laser treatments and discomfort in his joints. So one day, one terrible day, they left us together. They had been together since they were puppies, so perhaps it was meant to be. At least I had the comfort of knowing they were together. Boomer was only 8, Poppy only 7.

Then my daughter and her husband moved away to Boston and took their daughter, my grand-daughter, with them. I was there when she was born. We had taken care of her since she was born and we were used to seeing her at least twice a week. And I often saw my daughter despite her busy schedule. I missed them in an ache that didn't go away.

Want to know a hard part about growing older? You have to completely readjust how you interact, even how you love, your grown children. In their thirties now, my children are married and each have a child of their own. For me, grand-mother-hood is this completely bi-polar experience of utter joy and then lonliness. And loss. They come, they smile, they hold your hand, you giggle together, plan fairy gardens for summer, and then just when you are at your happiest -- they go back home. It takes your breath away. At least it takes my breath away.

Want to know another hard thing about growing older? When you put make-up on in the mirror, you tend to put it on in sections. Just a left eye. Just an upper lip. "Not so bad for 60," you think, glancing at yourself in sections. But then when you see yourself in photographs, and there is the whole face, you think, "My God, who IS that wrinkly, old woman?" Loss of skin suppleness.

Some other losses in the past year as well. But I won't dwell on them here. As I write, Cricket is asleep on the back of the couch where she can keep close watch on me. She brings smiles on this otherwise gray day.

Winter begins in earnest...

Well here we are, Christmas is over, New Year's Eve passed without any comment, and it is January 4th already. My son and his wife and child arrived for Christmas. It was wonderful having them here. They are already gone now that I am writing this and it seems like a whirlwind. The one fairly nice day, we drove over to the bird sanctuary and fed the swans.

They are domesticated, not tame, but they come quickly waddling up for bread or crackers. I was glad I had gloves on because they sort of clap their bill shut over the bread and if your finger is in there that gets clapped, too. But it was magical having these great creatures be so close and take food from your hand. Two days before this, I was outside with Cricket. We heard this strange, rhythmic noise coming closer and closer. As it came overhead we looked up and saw two Whistling Swans flying over the farm, beating their great wings in complete synchronization and making this strange, wonderful noise. I don't think the swans at the bird sanctuary are the whistling type but they were fun to look at and feed.

The next day a neighbor came by and Don, Matt, our neighbor Bob and I stacked three cords of wood by the wood stove. Here I was missing the garden and thinking the work at the farm was over until next Spring. Not. The wood had been delivered a week or so ago and sat in huge, ugly piles on the lawn. Turns out, stacking three cords of wood can get you pretty warmed up, even on a cold winter's day. It was wonderful having my son home to help. See the wood stove on the left hand side of the picture? That small, green thing? It sits behind the summer house and we keep it going 24 hours a day, stoking it every 12 hours. We figure it will cost us about $700 to heat the house for the entire winter with wood. And this is far less than using propane in the tank. Besides, it is "good work" as my husband says, and he enjoys heading out there twice a day to feed the beast.

It's comin' on Christmas...

It is the Sunday before Christmas. The house is decorated. My 2-year-old grand-daughter is coming all the way from Los Angeles to visit us and I want the place to look like Macy's. I want to see that Christmas magic in her eyes. Even if only for a minute or two when she first gets here.
We don't have much snow. I'm still hoping for a White Christmas this year for my Los Angelinos. But we've had little cold weather here. Hardly any snow. I think it will be a short winter. My husband is anxious to rev up his 54" snow blower on the front of his John Deere. But so far it's only been a few inches here and there. Not enough to bring out the great Green and Yellow Beast.

Here is a picture of our big red barn. It was built in 1870. The siding is new, as is the roof, but inside there are hand-hewn timbers and very old floors. The lower level is where dairy cows were once kept. The previous owners had cats and when we bought the place the lower level smelled like cat pee. But a summer with fresh breezes the the doors open have dispelled the odors. I think of black and white Holsteins down there getting milked. Once this was a thriving farm with dairy cows, cattle, chickens and even pigs. There is a huge cement pad over in the corner of the property and it has an odd circle in the middle of it. I finally found a woman, my age now, but who grew up here. She said it was the pig barn and the circle in the middle was a corn crib that all the pigs from the four different pens could reach it. But now it is just our vegetable farm. And, I hope, in the Spring, a flower farm.
Meantime, I have put a wish into the universe. Two wishes actually. Don and I were sitting around the other night having a glass of wine. I got to wishing out loud and wished for "one more adventure" and "one more baby." This is because all my children and grand-children live far away and I miss them. My friend Pagyn would say you must be very careful about the wishes you cast adrift in the Universe.

Here I am with my new baby. Her name is Cricket. She is a two-year-old pug. She is zany, crazy love. We are thrilled to have her. After two years as a kennel dog and one litter of pups, she is more than thrilled to be the small darling of two people with nothing better to do than to pet her and coddle her. She has kennel manners and will need to be spayed, but all in good time.
And the adventure? Well the adventure is yet to come. Often nervous about the future, I have decided to embrace it sight unseen this time. Sometimes I get glimpses of the future but at the moment it is merely the man behind the Green Curtain. So with Christmas only a week away, I'll just click my red sequined shoes together and say, "There's no place like home."

November 26, 2011

It is the week after Thanksgiving. My older sister came for Thanksgiving day. She brought her dogs with her, two Corgi's, which were well-behaved and made me want a dog. I am trying to hold off until Spring, but I am still checking both Rottweiler rescue and Pug rescue. Because I am pretty much insane.

This is a picture of me that my husband Don took about a week ago. No make-up, still recovering from a 3-week bout of some pulmonary something-or-other, and I see I have many wrinkles these days. It is because I try to laugh a lot and because I am 60.

This is a week of contemplation and quiet. Most everyone else is standing in line somewhere in front of Wal-Mart or Target or Best Buy. But I don't like shopping and can't stand crowds. So I'm staying home, finishing up the last of the Christmas decorating. Frankly just the thought of shopping in pushing or shoving crowds makes my eyes roll back up in my head. I saw all of that on the news this morning. No thanks.

Don and I are planning a round of trips to keep us busy over the winter. California, Texas, Florida -- all good places to visit in February and March.

It is supposed to snow again tomorrow and our weather man said this morning, that this morning would be our last nice day of the year. Nice being a relative term for most people. But it's in the high 40's and cloudy. The two small lakes you can see from the house are quiet and gray today. But when the sun is out, you can see them sparkle and dance from the living room windows. Am I falling in love with this property? Yes. Some. It grows on you. All the beautiful maples trees and the gentle roll of the land here is wonderful to look at. The birds are frantically at work at the feeders and a black squirrel, who grows larger and fatter every day, comes once a day to jam his jowls with black sunflower seeds. Wildlife abounds here. We have even read newspaper accounts of black bear in this county.

I am hoping to see a red fox one day soon. I imagine him loping across the white snow, black-tipped ears, on the hunt or perhaps just heading over to the lake to catch a large frog for a quick meal.

Friday, November 18th, 2011

I got up early this morning. It was windy and the wind was roaring through the leafless trees. Normally the time change makes me crazy and it takes me a full two weeks to readjust to the single hour change. But this morning I was grateful it started to get light early.

If you look on the left side of this photo, you can see the flag moving in the wind. The wind is from the south today which normally keeps the air warmer. But the wind chills are in the mid-20's and it's cold. We know winter is coming. We try to stave it off by doing whatever outdoor chores we can before the snow comes. Don was out picking up leaves again, I went around and picked up all the fallen branches and threw them on the outdoor fire pit. But by now, there are probably hundreds more branches blown down. If we used our fireplace it would be a constant source of kindling. We don't know if the fireplace works yet. We haven't had anyone out to look at it.

The deer come every evening around 5:00 p.m. to munch on the apples. People around here sell "deer apples" and people use them as bait to lure the deer close. Gun season started this past Tuesday. We hear shotgun blasts regularly throughout the day, starting early in the morning. But at our house, we let the deer come close and munch on the apples in peace.

Out in the garden there is a plastic beach ball blowing around everywhere. It started out as part of Dolly, our scarecrow, and gave her an impressive bustline. Later, halfway through the summer, it sunk down and she looked pregnant. Now she stands out there, more or less headless, bustless, and not pregnant. And the beach ball kicks around happily in the wind gusts.

Winter is coming, winter is coming, winter is coming. . . . It is like a drum beat in my head. I don't dread the winter. It's not the cold weather. It's not the snow. The older I get, winter is just a season, a short part of the whole year. I fear the inactivity. The boredom. Being house-bound. What will we do?

November 11, 2011 Veteran's Day

This is the garden we woke up to this morning! The deer fencing is all draped on top like garland on a Christmas tree. The trees are frosted with snow and hoar frost. It's hard to imagine that 6' tall tomato bushes groaning with wheel barrow loads of tomatoes and beautiful translucent onions standing in rows like soldiers used to grow here just a couple of months ago. It is so beautiful!

On the other side of the house, it's a scene from Peter and the Wolf. The pine trees are loaded with perfect snow. I wish I had to dog to go outside and romp in the snow with. Don wants a big Rottweiler. And he wants a small, black pug. Today, I want them all. A happy house full of wagging tails coming in from a romp in the fresh snow.

This week-end promises to be warm and sunny, in the low 50's. So all the snow will be gone. We are going to dig a "pumpkin hole" next to the garden. This is a two foot high, two foot diameter hole, lasagne-layered with soil and cow manure and leaves and whatever else I can find. It will cook all winter long and by spring, it will be a warm pot, perfect for the Cinderella pumpkins I plan to plant. They are prickly enough that the deer will not bother them. I hope the vines take over the entire west side of the garden. Then we'll have less yard to mow!

Halloween 2011

The garden has been put to bed. The trees are turning colors. The lawn has disappeared under a carpet of leaves. It is beautiful here.

Most of the trees are yellow. But a few, hidden here and there in the woods, are spectacularly red.

It is Halloween. I have asked a few neighbors and have been told not to expect any trick-or-treaters. It's too bad because I would love to decorate the walkway with pumpkins and corn stalks and lights.

It is getting quieter here. My sister and her husband have gone home to Florida. The garden, as I said, is put to bed, my husband is considering going back to work. What will I do all winter? Could I load the wood stove all by myself if I had to? What if I get snowed in? As I ponder these questions, fall deepens its hold on Michigan and the skies are turning the familiar November-gray that lasts all month. I am already thinking about spring and wishing I had planted more bulbs in my fledgling flower garden. The ones I did plant, white daffodils and deep red tulips in the main garden, small blue scilla and miniature yellow daffodils in the shade garden, are peacefully slumbering under dark, cool soil. I also got rid of the rocks and removed the plastic tarp from a small bed by the barn. I filled it up with leaves and manure, underlaid with newspaper and hope it will be rotted down in the spring. I have visions of the "Spring Celebrities" hollyhocks growing there next summer. A red barn should have hollyhocks next to it.