Friday, November 17, 2017

Stuck in time...

Every day, on my way to and from work, I pass a lonely farm that sits at the edge of modern encroachment.  The stories that could be told if it could only speak. 

The farmhouse sits atop a rise where it had the early morning sun streaming through the back windows and its inhabitants could sit on the front porch basking in the golden rays of the setting sun.  The fields behind it surely were verdant and lush...most likely with the quintessential Midwest Hoosier corn crops.



What were the people like?  Did the woman of the house spend her mornings baking bread and preparing meals for the farm workers?  Did crisp white sheets hang on the clothesline and snap in the breeze?  Were there children that rose early in the morning, wiping the sleep from their cherubic faces, pulling on their clothes and dragging their feet outside to get the morning chores done before school?

I like to make up stories about what life must have been like in this home and on this farm.

Now it sits, empty and neglected.  The interstate and modern life sidling up like a cancer.
It will be torn down, that is an eventuality.  And with it, another chunk of the past will die.  



Honestly, it breaks my heart to watch and know what is coming.  Why do I do all the "old fashioned" things?  Simply put, there are parts of life that are worth preserving the knowledge of, nothing new can improve upon them.  So, at the heart of it,  I choose to learn and practice all those things that allow me the independence of being as completely self-reliant as possible.  It is a freedom that cannot be bought.



And, of course, IF I'm sitting, then I'm knitting.  There are socks to be made, afterall.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Bedtime

If you asked me, even five years ago, what my favorite seasons were, the answer would have been a triumphant exclamation of the wonders of all that is summer.  Not so much anymore.  

Seasons are necessary and are a reflection of our own life process.  Without calm and still, there can be no excitement and activity. 

Winter seemed to me to be the most horrible time of year.  The cold, the snow, the messiness of slush and ice...  

But think of seasons as a reflection of each and every day that we are given.  Spring is like the morning.  You awaken to the beauty of all that is around you and the newness of what the day may bring.  Summer is mid-day when the fruits of your work day burst forth and are available to sustain you.  Fall is the evening, when the day slows and you are able to ponder what you accomplished and admire all that you were able to put aside for the future.  And winter, well, everyone functions best when given adequate sleep in order to rejuvenate your soul and your body.  

This past weekend, we spent some time tucking in the gardens for their winter sleep and prepping the barn, chicken coop, and bee hives for the sleepy cold time that is rapidly approaching.  

There is beauty, mystery, and necessity in each of these seasons...the same as the seasons of our life.

And even in the death that is part of the transition to winter, there is beauty.  

The asparagus is decked out in the colors of the winter holiday and begs to be admired.



The droopy dried heads of marigolds in the lavender bed hold the promise of lovely flowers next year.  I took a few seed heads and scattered the seeds amongst the lavender plants.  Deep purples and bright yellowy-orange will be a cheerful sight when in full bloom.


Two beds chock full of garlic cloves are ready for a long slumber in anticipation of blessing me with bulbs bursting with flavor to be incorporated into the meals that will feed our bodies.


The fallen leaves act as nature's down comforter for the garlic beds.  Sleep tight my little Allium sativum,  I will see you in the early summer.





















Friday, November 10, 2017

Proof of life...

What else is there to say that hasn't already been said? 

I have posted here no less than three new posts each week for this entire year.  Oh, wait.  They never left my head to make it to this little piece of the web.  Trust me, they were brilliantly written with stunning photography.  Not buying it?  Me neither, except for the part where I said they never left my head.  Good intentions and all that.

So much has happened at Two More Weeks Farm over the last several months.  (Have I ever shared how this pint sized property got its name?  **making mental note to write that post) 

There have been a few bee swarms, captured and lost, along with a number of nasty stings.  Gardens were planted, harvests taken, foods preserved-including so many raspberries that stuffed the freezers.  A new breed of chickens was added to our flock.  Sheep were shorn, lambs born (even a super surprise lamb from one of last year's lambs!!), lambs were lost and a ewe was lost.  Spinning and knitting have been sort of on auto-pilot.  Socks steadily left my needles, while fiber stalled on the wheels.  Travel has been at an all time record pace over the last few months. 

Where does that leave us/me?  Right here.  Smack dab in November wondering what the heck happened to the last year and all those good intentions.

This time of year also brings with it time of quiet reflection.  And pumpkin bread with hot tea.   Lots of hot tea. 


It is also the time of year when jars of sprouting lentils line up along my counter.  They provide an extra protein source/treat for the chickens to help promote laying and overall health through the winter months.


Leaves are finally releasing their hold from the branches.  Soon, the piles will be raked and blown onto the garden spot to provide blanketed protection to the precious food giving soil.  How stinking adorable is this mat???  DH teases me because every time I go out to the animals, I greet them with a "hello sweet things".  The mat seemed appropriate, so I got two!...one for the front door and one for the basement door.


 The most pressing projects on needles are some gifts for a precious new bundle on the way.  Every baby needs cashmere booties/hats and a polar bear rug!  The pattern is from Knitted Animal Nursery.

What has been stealing your time?

P.S.  I've missed being here.



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