Morning Commute

After 31 years of the same old grind, I still love my morning commute. Although this is our fourth small farm in those 31  years, this one in particular, of which we hope and plan to retire on,  is the most extensively “farmed”  –  we hay our fields, raise chickens for eggs, my horses adorn the fields as lawn ornaments for the most part but they do get use, sparingly. (those spoiled, spoiled horses).

We used to have a huge vegetable garden, but with enough produce yield to feed a lost continent full of folk and a weed war we could not possibly win, we downsized eventually to a two-raised bed configuration 1/8th the size of the original, now located  in our back yard.  We also have a small young apple orchard with peach and plum trees, blueberry and raspberry bushes,  and a Christmas Tree lot in a back field. (haha..hahahaha…   I’ll ‘splain later in the post). 

So.. my morning starts with breakfast for the two of us around 5:30 a.m. for no good reason at all other than that’s when the Mr. and I religiously wake up. And we aren’t religious.  We’re just *UP*.    The dogs are let out to do their business and then fed.  If it’s chilly, like this morning, I put on my outer layer of barn attire and Miss Sally waits by the door because she knows the routine and she loves OUT.  And OUT with MOM is the stuff dreams are made of.

We head out into the frost coated everything to begin the rounds.  Sally stays within the dog fenced area, but it allows her to follow me up the driveway to the barn area where she waits around while I feed and muck.

Side note: (I’m a little ADD, I’m pretty sure of it ) Peering over to the left in the backyard, my daughter’s home is in sight.  We are absolutely loving our new neighbors 💖.  Her new family member, adopted adorable Gizmo has blended very well with their dog Rex, and all is well in their new little kingdom in the field across the way.

Back on track we go –   morning commute… The chicken coop comes first – I let the girls out into their coop yard and refresh the water and feeders, rake the chicken yard, and once a week the whole coop gets an overhaul of fresh shavings, swept out cobwebs, new hay in laying boxes, etc.   This year’s babies have already been laying for months and they’re beautiful!  The two shown here are Light Brahmas. They have feathers on their feet!    They  are part of my GOT flock. Winter and Ghost , with Arya on the right.  Cersei died early on of a deformed beak ( if only that had happened in the series! ) Sansa and  Daenerys are doing well.

Once the girls are all set for the day, I head up to the barn to feed and water the horses and turn them out for the day.

The two old boys.. Max1 and Max2.. are let out into the fields after they’ve finished their morning grain.  They’ve just started wearing their fall sheets to keep the chill off on these 30 something degree mornings.  Older horses have trouble keeping good weight on due to teeth that are ground down with time, so we give them a little help with special grains for seniors and blankets for added warmth.

The mini horses are little cherubs, chubby little cherubs.  Their weight needs to be kept reasonable and so they are not allowed on the big grassy fields with the larger horses as they’d eat themselves to oblivion. So we keep them in a smaller dirt paddock and give them the appropriate amount of  grain and hay for their size.

Once feed is done, I usually muck stalls.  On Sundays our boarder does stalls to give me a reprieve, so this morning I walked about the fields and took a few pictures instead.

Our little orchard on the hill behind the house.  The apple trees on the left are a few years old and have produced very little so far.  It takes a few years for trees to establish themselves, and we’re still learning about proper pruning and fertilization – must be enough, but not too much.   The blueberry and raspberry bushes will get a netting cover once berries appear, lest the birds and squirrels get them all.    Yep, That did happen, lesson learned.

In the field behind the horse barn is a tree lot … where for three years, we’ve planted 100 Christmas trees.   The first year we had a wicked winter and the wind chill was awful, killing most of the trees.   *ah, crap.  We replaced them with slightly bigger ones the second year… of which we lost more than half to a grub infestation. *crap again. And why does it seem so many have just planted a ton of trees and lo and behold, a tree farm was born – like, super easy.   I mean it was such the infestation that when you walked among the saplings the ground crinkled and crunched for all the grubs squirming around just below the surface.   BLEH.

We’ve planted the new little baby Christmas trees in this third year of tree farming, with a fence around lest the deer eat them up,  ( can you imagine?) the ground is  treated for grubs and we’ll cross our fingers for a not-so-terribly-cold  windy winter, shall we?

With the walk about done and checking for downed fence rails,  I walk back down to the house where Miss Sally  has joined me along the fence line and up onto the porch where she waits to be let in while I shuck off my muck boots.  We then get on with our day.

It’s a dirty business sometimes, this job of mine,  and never is it glamorous – but I wouldn’t trade it for the world and then some.

Another Side note: Have you been a Downton Abbey fan?  I hadn’t paid any attention to it for all these years, how did I miss such a gem? – just got hooked on Amazon and within three weeks I’m almost done with the six seasons, looking forward to the movie!  I love it!  Fantastic actors too –   What a different world.  Living not far from Newport, I’ve toured some of the old “cottages” and saw first hand their elaborate lives preserved for all to explore.  These are not the estates of Europe, of course, but the summer colonies for some of the wealthy elite Americans of the late 1800’s early 1900’s.

Till soon, friends –

 

 

 

Welcome Gizmo!

For years I’ve been a volunteer at shelter dog adoption events here in Connecticut, and was a founding member of  Homeward Bound CT.  Due to my hearing loss I stepped down from the Board eventually, as it became increasingly difficult to hear conversation at meetings, etc. I no longer work the events as a conduit between the adopters and the dogs on three day stretches for the same reason.  I didn’t want this damned hearing loss to squelch my shelter dog assistance efforts, however, so I contribute in other ways that don’t require conversations in the crowded busy  barky affair that is an adoption event. I bring food for the many volunteers, photograph and advocate for the dogs coming to the event, and donate money to the rescues to help them accomplish their monumental tasks.

Two of my three current dogs are rescues, and my daughter also has an adopted pooch, Rex. Well.. she did, but now she has two.  K and D adopted Gizmo this weekend at Homeward Bound CT’s latest event, and I can honestly tell you I have not ever seen a more grateful dog.  Gizmo just absolutely loves everyone. As soon as he locks eyes with you, if you don’t melt, you don’t have a heart in your chest cavity, I’m telling ya.  He was picked up by an ACO as a stray in Georgia, where he landed at a kill shelter – and was quickly pulled by a rescue friend of ours, who vetted him, fostered him, and brought him up here to Connecticut with her other saves.  A more loving, cuddly dog does not exist.  We don’t know what his circumstances were that landed him in a kill shelter, but he’s out of those woods now.

Welcome to our family,  Gizmo!

We took her boyz for a walk around the property yesterday to help Gizmo learn what home is to him now.

This picture shows the relationship between our two homes – It’s  so awesome to have our girl and her little family right nextdoor.  This old farm  has truly become our family’s haven and I can’t begin to express appropriately how grateful I am.

I remember vividly passing this place on our way to visit my aunt many years ago. As a young girl I would glance at the overgrown fields behind the viney overgrown roadside and the ancient peeling sinking  house…. and dream a little dream of living in the country on a place such as this.  Never would I have guessed I’d call it home someday.  It all started with a desire to live in the country with horses and dogs, and a big leap of faith to make a bold move when I was 19.  The support of family and the love of a good man was the glue that kept the dream together.

Both in Vermont and here in CT, the fall foliage has been oustanding.   What is fall looking like in your neck’o the woods?

 Till soon, friends…

Goodbyes and hellos

 

We laid to rest our dear Dane, Ben.   At 10.5 years of age, (ancient for a Dane) his hind end gave out.  We are lucky to have a very good vet who came to the farm so that there would be no added stress to poor Ben, and he had a peaceful passing.   We miss the big guy, he was a horse in the house and there’s a big hole in our hearts and hearth where he once took up space.  I don’t know that we’ll bring home another giant dog, they don’t live long enough and their decline is so heartbreaking to watch, although that’s true of any living thing.

New England has experienced many  perfect weather days in recent weeks. Fall is unfurling slowly into the morning and evening light, the leaves beginning to change color.  Some Autumns are a dud as far as foliage color depending on weather conditions, and some are just glorious.  We’ve had many Monarch butterflies in the hay fields and in  our Zinnia patch!

We will soon tuck our Stella by the Sea away, as her 2019 season has come to an end.  Closing up a summer cottage is a reluctant good bye, thankfully just a temporary one.

In this glorious month of September, my sister’s youngest son was married on their farm.  The bride and groom were so clearly happy and in love, and the wedding was a fun event – with fall decor and comfort foods and a great DJ who got the crowd dancing, rocking the house all night.  The wedding cake wasn’t a cake at all – it was DONUTS!… a nod, no doubt, to the groom’s profession – a police officer.  Wishing Brian and Kate many many happy years.

My kids, my niece and my other kids……

Mom and sister, Sue

I think my most favorite picture of my mom, ever… in my sister’s Sunflower patch on that day…

On the better health front, I’ve lost 10 lbs of my 25 lb weight loss goal so far, and the rest ain’t gonna come off easy.  Menopause sucks in some ways, this is one of them.  A nutritionist has helped me sort out why I overeat and how I can make changes that are doable for the rest of my life, to keep the weight off.  I’m still tweeking, because Lord I Love To Eat.  And Cook, And Bake.  But… slow and steady wins the race.   This below is a good mantra to keep in your arsenal for making positive change in your life.

In closing,  I’ll give you a sneak peak of our daughter’s new home, right next door to this old house on the farm.  By September 30th, they’ll be in!

Till soon, friends…

 

 

Summer’s End

I cannot believe how fast this summer has flown by, are you all feeling the same?

Summer is my favorite season, although as I’ve grown older I have  developed a real love for the treasures of each of the four.  When I was a young girl I dreamed of someday living in the land of endless Summer – for me that was Florida.  As an older adult that goal has shifted – I feel sorry for those who never know the golden light cast on a cool autumn morning as orange, red and yellow leaves swirl about your feet.  The crunch of snow under boots and the sparkle of sunlight on snow on a January day. The song in the heart when the first crocus unfurls from the thawing earth with the promise of Spring.

I’ve been letting myself get all crazy with the freak show that is our current governing body, praying with everything I’ve got that those who still support The Orange Scream will see all the damage he’s inflicting on our integrity, our relationships with allies, our natural resources, the protections from abuse of animals, truth in general…. I’m just too weary of soul to continue with this list.  It’s dumbfounding, the support – just WTF is happening to this country?   So because of the fret over this menace in the White House, in this greed and cruelty gone rampant, the fibromyalgia in my body  has done the same.  I need to walk away from it, but that also feels irresponsible to me… we need to bear witness to the destruction so we can perhaps recognize and assist whatever will be the catalyst to get us the hell out of this mess.

Below is a picture of my ancient Dane, Ben, right now as I type, sharing his bed with Frasier.  They weren’t friends, ever, but now as Ben struggles with the simplest tasks in old age, Frasier has stepped up ❤️. As I am discouraged daily watching humans become more bold with their darker side, I am continuously reminded of the simple Grace of the animals. We still have things to learn from those we consider lesser beings.

I think it’s safe to assume I am now in the Autumn of my life – 54 is middle-middle aged, right?  The lines on my face and the ache in my body tells me so.     Until recently I had an inherent belief that the country I lived in, for the most part, was made up of people who believed we are all equal, that despite our differences, we were one nation, whether under a God or not.  I truly believed greed and racism and hatred for anything that isn’t what we think we are, was dying out.   Or at the very least, not -winning-.     So.. much.. winning.   What I fear most for our country, this land that I love, is that we are in the autumn of our decency, our respect for each other, and others beyond.  This earth is dying slowly, and we’re killing it daily, now untethered, unrestrained because Greed has been given the green light, the hate that flows in the veins of so many has been given permission to flow freely.  Division seems to be the goal, unity be damned.  These are not my assumptions, just listen to the message being sold. And so many are buying it.

I’m going to continue to try like hell to  maintain a little of Summer, even in the darkest nights of Winter, because without hope for the future, we are a lost cause, all of us. We will kill ourselves out in the end if we don’t wake up, if we don’t work hard to save  the gifts we were given from the very start.   Here’s to a return of Summer to the psyche of we, the people of this earth so that we may thrive in harmony, our samenesses and our differences alike.

 

 

 

 

Gentle Ben

 

You know those really fun pictures that are shared sometimes … the little boy with the puppy..  accompanied by the next photo of the  grown young man with the very same now-ancient dog?

 

Well let me tall ya,  It ain’t so fun when it’s not just the dog who’s gotten OLD.  BOY,  what a difference 10 years makes.  *sigh.

About dear Ben, our 11 year old Dane – according to the Vet, he’s ancient for a dog of his size. He used to be 190-ish on a chubby day, now around 150 with atrophy and a more careful diet.  His heart is crapping out, but five pills a day are keeping it ticking for now. The hind end, though.. is what is betraying him mightily.  We’ve built a ramp for him to use to get up into the house from the side porch steps and he spends more time sleeping than anything else.  The vet assures us he’s not in pain, just extremely weak in the hind end due to some sort of failing nerve and muscle situation that is common in the large breed dogs in older age.  He explained it well, but my half-assed hearing didn’t catch most of it and I didn’t want him to have to repeat himself.

PS… You can’t go into a bathroom up here in this old house without expecting you’ll have an audience when you come out, wondering what you were doing in there and why weren’t they invited?!   This was the scene in front of the master bath after my shower this morning.

On occasion Ben looks like he’s ready to hang it up, and we all gather round with heavy hearts and tear streaked faces pondering what we should do next.  And then he perks up again and we say… Not Today.  

We take each day as it comes, and the vet says we’ll just know when it’s his time to leave us.  So hard to watch them deteriorate, and then to lose these members of our family,  well…most of you know the woe.  The love and companionship they provide is immeasurable, and the heartache equally so.  I can’t imagine my life without my animals in it, though, so it’s a price I’ll continue to pay for the bonds we share.

 

We’ve got a horse show in Massachusetts for the next four days – thankfully the weather won’t be GodAwful hot or freezing rain.  In closing, here’s a drink recipe  that looks particularly scrumptious that I plan to make on a cottage day this summer.

 

Coconut Cream and Lime Margarita  

 Ingredients 

  • Kosher salt, grated lime zest and sugar for rimming glass  
  • 2 lime wedges 
  • 2 oz. (60 ml) coconut cream or cream of coconut  
  • 1 1/2 oz (45 ml) blanco tequila  
  • 1 oz. (30 ml) fresh lime juice 
  • 1/2 oz. (15 ml) Cointreau  
  • 1/4 oz. (7 ml) simple syrup

Directions

1. On a small plate, combine equal parts salt, lime zest and sugar and spread in an even layer. Gently rub 1 of the lime wedges around the rim of a rocks glass. Holding the base of the glass, dip the rim into the salt mixture. Place in the refrigerator until ready to use.  

 2. Just before serving, fill the glass with ice. In a cocktail shaker filled with ice, combine the coconut cream, tequila, lime juice, Cointreau and simple syrup. Cover, shake vigorously and strain into the ice-filled glass. Garnish with the remaining lime wedge. Serves 1.