Sunday, March 17, 2024

A Day That Is Just For Me!

 1. It was a picture perfect, spring day for a birthday celebration. My gifts are all delightful. Everyone was creative in what they chose for me: worm castings, bath scents, a hand knit hood, a Vermont sweatshirt, chocolate and maple candy, a balsam incense burner shaped like a cabin, pencil erasers, a gift card to the local gardening co-op, a shawl, flowers, and a book. Most of all, I loved spending the day with our children and grandchildren.

2. I now have Medicare. I am not quite sure how I feel about that.

3. Two kinds of cakes baked by two daughters. I eat both.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Good Dirt, Bad Company, Photoshopped

 1. Gardening season has officially begun. I put on my overalls and got dirty to commemorate the occasion. I had time to think about my tasks as I pushed the wheelbarrow across the field. How is it that a garden goes from tame to wild so quickly?! Does anything ever go from wild to tame without assistance or intervention? I can't think of anything.

2. I had sharp words for the Chocolate Chip Ajuga.It really must be pickier about who it allows in its bed. It's keeping company with grass and clover. We will not have that.

3. Trying to make a positive experience out of having a formal photograph taken for the church directory. We are shown the digital samples. There is no way to make my photo pleasing to my eye; no background color, no different poses, nothing. Finally she asks if we want "touch ups". Yes! I will PAY $35 for touch ups!

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Making the Best of It, A Fresh Airing, We're Here!

1. Poke and pull; stitch and snip. I am turning nervous energy into something tangible.

2. The porch door is open to the sun and breeze! The black walnut wind chimes that Steve made are rattling on the pergola.

3. Blossoms have sprung out everywhere. The interstate is adorned with the white lace of pear and the yard is ruffled with the pink of purple plum. The blossoms have appeared so quickly that I am sure they have been lying in wait for twelve months, just waiting for this moment to burst open and shout, "Surprise!"
 

Monday, March 11, 2024

On High, Brown Beef Stew, March Winds

1. A winter bare maple tree reveals a small nest perched high up near the tip of the branch.

2. I seek out the recipe from my mom's old 1947 cookbook for Brown Beef Stew. This is the way she always made it and it was my favorite. I get excited when I notice the recipe right above it for Potato Dumplings. How have I never noticed this before? If I make these for the stew, dinner will be a marvel.

3. The winds blew fiercely last night and made bedtime feel unsettled. In the morning I noticed the wind had settled and all was calm. Same room, same house, friendlier feel.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Transformed Into Real Pages

 

Into Real Pages is an online service that prints online content into book form. I decided to give it a try after reading a recommendation on someone's blog. I am pleased with the result and I will have more books printed up a couple at a time.

I started my blog fourteen years ago (!) so there was too much material to all go into one book. I decided to print each year as a volume. They offer different styles and options for design. I went with a design where I could use a different color cover for each volume. The cost depends on how many pages you will have printed. My books cost about $55 each and they have a soft cover. The pages are glossy and all the photos I had on my blog are included. The company is located in the Netherlands and it took about a month for these to arrive in the mail. When I initially placed my order, I did not receive a confirmation page. I emailed the company and they confirmed that they did receive my order, so communication was good.

I have no idea what will happen to internet content in the future. I wanted to preserve my blog for my daughters to keep. I thought they might like to recollect the day to day life of our family from way back when.

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Lake Morey, Vermont, Winter in Our Veins

 

I do not have a bucket list. However, I do have heart's desires. One of my heart's desires is to play outdoors in the winter. When we left New England and moved south twenty-three years ago, we left behind the kind of winters that were a way of life. You either embraced the cold and ice or you suffered. While we do have a winter season here in Virginia, they do not take on the same bite as a New England winter. Ponds rarely freeze over and hefty snowfalls come maybe once every four or five years. Indoor ice skating rinks cannot compare to the freedom of outdoor skating on a frozen pond, lake, or flooded field. I am sure a large part of my longing is nostalgia. Whatever the reason, the desire to ice skate outdoors has constantly tugged at my heart. As I grow older, that desire feels more urgent.

Life in the 1960's, before computers and play dates, meant we played outside every day. Winters were no exception. If there was snow, it was it all the better. Even without snow, we could still ice skate. We had farm ponds and flooded fields all around us. The only thing that would drive us back indoors was frozen fingers or toes..and supper time. Ultimately, my older cousin who lived next door, built a skating rink in the empty lot on the other side of his house. He borrowed a bulldozer from his work and scraped the field, pushing all the dirt to create a bank on all four sides. Then he came in with a cement mixer filled with water and flooded the depressed ground. He installed a spotlight on a telephone pole and a burning barrel for us to keep warm. He even built a bench where we could change into our skates. We couldn't wait for school to let out in the afternoon to all meet up at the rink. Often times, we would go back out again after dinner and skate in and out of the pool of light created by the spotlight. When school let out for Winter Recess in February, we would have a solid week of outdoor winter play, sledding, skating, and building elaborate snow forts. Below freezing temperatures were pretty much guaranteed in February and many big lakes would hold winter carnivals during Winter Recess week.

I recall the year I turned twelve. It was Winter Recess and we neighborhood kids were all sledding. The boys started throwing snowballs at the girls. An ice ball hit me in the eye and caused some serious damage. I was under a doctor's care for months and I wasn't allowed to play outside for the rest of that recess week. I remember sitting in front of the picture window watching my sister and the neighborhood kids ice skate on the flooded field across the road. Even with a horrible headache and an eye patch over my eye, I begged to be let out to play. The hot tears I cried made my eye and head hurt even more and I was miserable. My mother did not relent. I felt jipped when we finally returned to school the following week. I still bear a scar under my eye with that memory.

Nowadays I subscribe to Yankee Magazine in order to get my New England fix. Sometimes I cry with longing for the all that I miss of our old home. Two years ago the magazine published an article about a place in Fairlee, Vermont called, Lake Morey Resort. The article told about how the resort clears a four-mile path around the lake for ice skating. It is advertised a the largest ice skating path in the United States! They also clear large swaths for ice hockey and some fun little paths in between. I studied the photo in depth wondering if it could be as wonderful as it appeared. I saved the coveted article and showed it to the family. I claimed that this was going on my bucket list. It remained the one and only item on my non-existent bucket list. 

 Last fall I re-mentioned this Lake Morey winter adventure to one of my daughters. Quick as anything, all the girls were on board to make it happen... in February! We made reservations at the resort, four of the girls made flight reservations and two of us made driving plans. It was really happening!

A lot of moving pieces had to come together to make this trip a reality. We were blessed with good health, good weather, and good travel. The excitement of arriving to find the lake and the resort all that we hoped for was nothing short of a miracle. The resort had everything we needed on site. They had three kinds of skates to rent; figure skates, hockey skates, and Nordic skates. They also had hockey sticks, pucks, helmets, and sleds. There was also one nifty item that we had never seen before called a Kickspark. It is like a scooter with two long blades instead of wheels. You put micro crampons on your boots and kick off on this self-propelled machine to glide across the ice. It was a blast! The four sisters and granddaughter skated the four-mile path around the lake twice each day. They also played hockey and just messed around on the ice, sampling the different kinds of skates. I could not make the four mile loop on skates but I did walk, Kickspark and eventually skated a little before the trip was over. 

The moments of purest joy for me were to see my daughters playing together. For three days they weren't moms or wives or employees. They were just kid sisters having a blast together. This was a rare opportunity. Of course I felt joy when I finally got my skates on and I let go of any support. I found that I could still skate even after many years of not having done so. Muscle memory of how the subtlest shift of weight from side to side sent me firmly gliding and gave me confidence. The cold air blew across my face as I went a little bit faster. At one point, I stood alone near the middle of the lake. It was very quiet. The sky was heavy and gray, and the air was biting cold. I could feel the dampness of frozen water rising up from the ice. It is unique in feel and smell; different than snow. It awoke winters from long ago that shifted into the here and now. I lifted my face and breathed in as deeply as I could. I needed to get in enough winter air to save up and last me a while. I thanked God for this remarkable gift.


 






Sunday, February 25, 2024

Exploring an Abandoned Farmhouse

 

On a beautiful fall day last September, Audrey invited Tess and me on an adventure. We were going to explore an abandoned farmhouse on some acreage she and her husband had purchased. She packed a picnic lunch for us and we set out to make a day of it.

I assume everyone itches to explore old, abandoned houses. I can't drive by a one without wishing I could explore it. I like to imagine what life was like in the home and what sort of people lived there. I want to look for traces of their ordinary days and see what was forgotten or left behind. Short of trespassing, we don't often get the chance to actually explore those places. They roll by, out the car window, leaving only our imaginings to keep them company.

Audrey had done some research on their land and she knew the house had been empty for a very long while. It had no electricity and no plumbing. It was 1860's old, yet it was very well preserved considering how long it had stood empty. The woodwork and trim inside were lovely as was the stairway and banisters. The flooring was in good shape too. This did not appear to be the home of someone who had been struggling on hard times. It was a solid, successful farmer's home. There were comfort items like a pretty bed frame and a piano in the living room. There were two porches, one on either side of the ell that was the kitchen off the back side. I imagined garden vegetables being carried across the porch into the kitchen for canning. An open, stone-lined well stood a couple of yards from the back door where I could imagine the wife drawing water up from the well for her kitchen use. Curtains still hung on some of the windows. They were so dry rotted that the slightest touch sent the fabric crumbling away. My favorite place was one of the porches off the kitchen. It still showed the beautiful blue paint on the wainscotted ceiling. I pictured myself sitting on a chair, shelling peas in the cool shade of a summer afternoon. My heart ached as I noticed all these signs of life from an era gone by.

We talked about whether anything was worth salvaging. It would be a big job to salvage woodwork, flooring, and fireplace mantels without damaging them. As we walked away from the home, we carried with us an old wire and metal gate we found. Audrey said I could have it for my garden. It reminded me of one that my parents had at my home growing up. We talked about coming back with the metal detector to dig deeper and see what else we might find. 

Unfortunately, we got sad news about the house only one week later. The county required the auction company to demolish the house before the final closing sale could take place. Within one day, it was razed to the ground and hauled away. Just like that. When I heard that news, I felt melancholy all evening. It was strange that I would feel that way about a house I only saw once and never lived in myself. I had really wanted to go back and visit it again. It felt like an old friend. I hated that the past was disappearing, along with a way of life. 

Well, it is time for new beginnings and all that. My six year old granddaughter played with her toy horse in one of the fields there today. She is imagining a life that is yet to come. I pray it is as lovely and peaceful as the old house led me to believe it used to be.

                               The kitchen ell off the back of the house and one of the porches.
 
             The piano was made in Albany New York. The place of my birth. What are the chances?!

                          Pretty bed frame with the contents of a straw mattress that once sat atop it.

             Look at the beautiful blue paint on the ceiling! The garden gate that went home with us.

                                                    1924 calendar page found on the floor.