Posts from the “Sustainable Life” Category

Fluctuations

Posted on February 22, 2018

It was 71 degrees here yesterday, sunny and mild and springlike a good two months early. I felt the blood moving in my veins. I know Seth felt it too because when I came upon him and our assistant farm manager at lunchtime, Seth was full of giddy humor, in his t-shirt, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in his happiness to be outside. I love early Spring warmth. It makes me feel like cleaning out my closets — although admittedly, it doesn’t take much to make me want to clean things out. I tried a bit of knitting in the afternoon and though the yarn was fine and smooth beneath my fingers, my heart wasn’t in it. I wanted dirt in…

Late winter

Posted on February 16, 2018

Goodness, late winter on a farm is an ungraceful time of year what with slushy mud puddles, dirt-crusted snow berms, and bare trees.  Our main color right now comes from the seed catalogs piling up in the farm office, and in our imaginations as we plan out the flowers, vegetables, and herbs that we’ll grow this year. Every morning when I feed the animals, crunching along icy paths, I try to picture the farm from an outsider’s eyes and the words “undeniably glum” pop into my head. It certainly doesn’t look promising as you drive by, but Seth and I know the land holds growth soon to come. It’s not quite mud season, messy harbinger of spring, more like mud season’s mud season. Thaw, maybe? Whatever it’s called, it’s a bit more time to prepare.

We’ve moved into the little one bedroom apartment that comes with our new farm.  We’re still sourcing some furniture, as we got rid of most of it when we moved into the tiny house, and we’re also sourcing farm crew (I use “we” loosely here, I’m an unpaid enthusiast), so maybe that’s why I keep looking at the land and house with fresh eyes.  I see so much to do, so much to grow and to update.  So much to hope for.

I’ve been learning about feng shui these last few weeks. The transfer of energy from house to person.  Houses hold cell memories, I feel, just the same way plants do, the way our bodies do and that’s why you hear of organ transplant recipients after surgery suddenly liking the same things their donor liked.  Houses are the same, except the house influences the people.  I like to think about creating flows of energy that feel good for me and for the people who live and work here.  I have no big changes, nothing mystical to report.  Just thinking, thinking as usual.

In all of this, a very dear-to-me man died this week: my great uncle, Uncle Bubba. It’s not quite right to call him a surrogate grandfather. We were friends and family together, unrelated except by marriage, and we didn’t often speak in person. However, I wrote him a letter every week or so for the past 6-ish years. How do you describe a person who has been in your thoughts so consistently? Beats me, all I have is emotion. And typically I withdraw into myself when I’m feeling low, but I don’t want to do that right now, for the most part. I have that fleeting clarity that comes with the loss of a loved one: What am I doing with my life? What do I need to do to feel full? Is it worth writing letters about?

Uncle Bubba was a good man, ready with jokes and stories. To his last day he was devoted to his wife of 59 years, though she passed away in 2014. I believe they were true best friends and partners. Bubba loved music and woodworking and ice cream, and he had room in his heart for a bond with a wayward great-niece, though he had kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids of his own, and though I’m one of maybe a hundred cousins (I think. Mom, help me out here?).

Seth and I have a Bubba of our own. It’s Addie’s nickname, and when the two Bubbas met over Christmas, I held my tiny human up to Uncle’s bed. The older Bubba observed to the younger, “You’re on your way in and I’m on my way out.” It was true of course, he had been declining steadily for more than a year. But it didn’t stop me from saying, “Oh no, Bubba, not for a while yet.” I wasn’t trying to give him false hope. Just pleading with him to stay for a while longer. Perhaps it would have been better to acknowledge it, or to have said, “Maybe, but you’ll never be out of our hearts.” Still, the heart doesn’t always know what to say at the prospect of imminent loss, and anyway Uncle Bubba gave me a small smile in response.

I like to think that we understood a great many things about each other, though really I don’t know a lot of what he thought. His letters were few and far between; Parkinson’s made it difficult to write. But he was a master conversationalist and excelled at making me feel at home when we talked. I will miss his steady presence in my life.

It’s late winter now, and I have a compost bin to build and a flower plot to plan. There are perennial herbs that need a new garden space — somewhere, I’m not quite sure where. I still have goats and rabbits to feed. And in spite of moving out of a tiny house, I have a load of things to declutter and organize. Natural ebbs and flows I guess, as winter draws to a close and growing season comes around again.

The homemade gift roundup

Posted on January 19, 2018

Now that we’re well beyond the winter holidays and I (gulp) finally finished all of the homemade gifts, I can write about them here. It’s an accomplishment to have made at least one thing for every person on my list, I remind myself whenever I get down to crunch time and I’m frantically weaving in ends or whatever. And if you don’t think you can frantically weave ends, then you should hang around a knitter the day before a holiday gathering. Somehow, despite my best planning, there is always some project undone at the last minute. First up, the hats. I knitted eight hats for my eight nieces and nephews for Christmas. Did I take pictures? No, of course not. I forgot before I…

Spoons up! revisited

Posted on January 8, 2018

Well it’s taken a while, but I finally pulled together the pattern for Spoons up! revisited, the knitted wrist warmers that I was working on last year.  I was hoping to knit up some samples in a local farm yarn, but I had to set that dream aside once the baby started getting mobile, and it never happened.  The perfect is the enemy of the good, you know?  These bad boys are knit in fingering weight yarn, with a gauge of 6 stitches to the inch, and they are warm and cozy.  I had a good time coming up with this pattern, which you can download here: Spoons Up 2.  And here is the link to the Ravelry page.  Enjoy!  

Magic of the season

Posted on December 12, 2017

This is the first holiday season in a long time that Seth and I have had more than the bare minimum of cheer. We didn’t have strong traditions between the two of us, and anyway as two childless adults we felt there was no point setting up the miniature village on the back of the piano (figuratively, of course. There’s no piano in the tiny house). But now — oh, now! — this baby changes everything. She’ll be a year old this month. That’s old enough to want to instill some magic into the next few weeks. We’ve started putting up solstice decorations, and there’s a pile of presents accumulating. More than once Seth has come home to find some project scattered over the…

Holiday making

Posted on December 2, 2017

I’ve got a bunch of crafting going on here, but since most of it is for the people who read this blog, it’s going to remain a mystery. But it’s happening! I’ve picked up my needles once again and invested in some lovely yarn. Of course, a little bit of the yarn is for me. An early solstice present. Ok, it’s a lot of yarn for me. I couldn’t resist. Addie features prominently in my holiday crafting, except I haven’t started anything for her yet, hoping to knock some of the other presents off my to do list. I’m planning on a double layer hat in this red wool and whatever matching scraps I have, and then a little vest to keep her core…

With gratitude

Posted on November 23, 2017

To my U.S. friends, family, and readers who celebrate it, happy Thanksgiving! This is one of the holidays we honor, and it is especially timely for farmers who are wrapping up the growing season. It’s nice to have one last hurrah before the dark of winter. The final CSA pickup and farmers market are bursting with fall and storage crops: cabbage, kale, potatoes, onions, squash. Time to cook good things and sit together in anticipation of a season of rest. Preferably with post-dinner knitting in hand. Thanksgiving has some troubling origins that I think it’s important to acknowledge too. Native Americans in New England call this the Day of Mourning, and there is an annual gathering on the site of Plymouth Rock in protest…

Herbs forever

Posted on November 15, 2017

I've opened an Etsy shop for my herbs. Because the thing about herbs — I mean, I feel the need to explain since I'm the only one I know who's in love with them — is that they're some kind of magic. I was volunteering at Stearns Farm, minding my own beeswax, when I realized it. Just plugging along weeding vegetables every weekend. Then it struck me that I could learn what makes people say herbs are medicine. It seemed like a terrible waste to let Stearns's three herb gardens all die off for the winter without knowing what the heck they did. Research is always the answer. One Kindle book later, I grew obsessed with lemon balm, which seemed like an easy one…

Can’t see the garden for the weeds

Posted on October 10, 2017

I just realized that I missed my garden update last week. I've been missing a lot of things lately. The migraines have been coming every second day since the tail end of August, and that sort of pattern wipes me out. Understandably, I haven't been so vigilant in the garden. And, well, for a while there it seemed as if my herbs were suppressing the weeds, so I sat back and enjoyed the break. But as the season approaches its end, the weeds are fighting back. I've got this sole photo as proof for the rest of the garden is so overgrown that it's hard to distinguish from the background.

My echinacea bloomed. If there is one plant I am truly glad to have, echinacea misses out on the top spot because calendula forever has my heart. These echinacea blossoms are gorgeous. I don't use them for anything and the root won't be ready until next year, so these are for pure enjoyment. The monarchs love them, and the bumblebees. Every time I visit the garden I watch the insects and feel thankful for flowers and friends who give flowers. Then I pick some more yarrow and clary sage and squirrel it away for herb bundling.

I gave my perennial culinary herbs a good trim, the last of the season so they can recover before winter sets in. There's time enough to mulch them. I still have to dig up the ashwaghanda root, and I want to collect several more heads of calendula seeds to save. Other than that, winter will cause my garden to die back. Most of the plants are native perennials; they'll be fine. I've got tentative plans for next year too. Fewer borage plants (just one, I think), more calendula, and some plot rearranging. It will be time to dig up the biennials too. But for now, rest! Rest is in order, and it sounds good.

A bit of organization

Posted on September 19, 2017

I had some rest time this weekend, and resolved to organize my herbal stuff. There's only so many times I can shift my herb bundles from counter to table and back again before the untidiness drives me to distraction. I made some space under the counter for all the herbals that will be going up for sale, and the supplies I use to make them. That's all of the essences, the herb bundles for smudging and smoke cleansing, and the little finishes I used on my daily card base. It's been interesting coming up with a storage method for the herbs. The dried flowers are fragile and can't be stacked. Right now it looks like trays are my best bet. The cupboard isn't appropriate…