Middle aged musings from farm & hearth
I’ve got to hand it to my daughter …. she is one dedicated horsewoman. I love my horses, I do. And I get out there and do what I have to for their well being – feed, clean, clothe, etc. But when it comes to these cold winter days, my horse gets a big fat vacation from anything that resembles work… because I don’t ride in this kind of weather, nope, not doing it.
I took these pictures around 8:30 this morning and it was gawd -awful cold. Max and K have been practicing for the approaching show season and some of these classes are new to K… showmanship, horsemanship, trail. While 17 year old Max knows most of the ropes, K is still learning. Sometimes Max takes advantage of the newby and says… ” what? huh?… you want me to do… what? I can’t HEEEEEEAR yoooooou….la la la la la la ….) Horses are not as stupid as some people might have you believe. K has learned how to answer that little “duh” gimick and now Max might try it now and then, but he quickly realizes it doesn’t work and gets right down to business.
I took the manchild for a check-up and removal of stitches yesterday. All went well with the wisdom teeth removal. Afterward I took him to Wendys for a Baconator and fries, he deserved to bite into a big pile of cheeseburger bacon greasiness after four days of jello, pudding , cottage cheese and chicken soup.
On our way home we drove along the shore just to breathe in the raw sea air. Do you know, even though we’re a few miles in….sometimes up on the hill behind This Old House, on a windy day we can smell the ocean. It’s a beautiful thing.
The water was churning from the storm the night before.. sky the bluest blue…. wind still blowing at a pretty good clip, the air heavily laced with sea salt. So very refreshing. I swear, taking that crisp air into your lungs is like bathing your soul in a healing balm.
But first, I have to talk about the weather. WEIRD. It’s so warm I had a T-shirt on standing outside with the dogs this morning. AND… the wind howled all night long…gusts up to 60 miles per hour. We’ve had a foggy mist hanging over everything. The temps changed in three days time from 7 degrees in the early morning hours to 60. It’s about to get very cold again, so we’re told.
This is the bottom of the hill where I normally show you sunsets. You can’t even see the trees up on the hill or the firepit and adirondacks.
Anyway… the post title is Maple Syrup, because the sap from our Sugar Maples is being harvested for the first time. A friend has decided to attempt the Maple Sugaring that is so popular in New England, and asked to tap the many maples we have around This Old House. He also has buckets at four other residences up the road.
The sap runs for approximately six to ten weeks, starting around late January. The consistency when you touch the sap is basically water, which surprised me. I thought it would be thicker and sticky.
*My husband loves pure maple syrup.
Me?…I’ll take Aunt Jemima over the real stuff any day.
Go figure.
One of the things I love about living in New England is the presense of history. It can be found in the architecture, in the stone walls, the remnants of fencing and foundations found in the woods seemingly miles from civilization.
A typical school day was 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., with morning and afternoon recesses of 15 minutes and an hour for lunch. The older students were given the responsibility of bringing in water, carrying in coal or wood for the stove. The younger students would be given responsibilities according to their size and gender such as cleaning the black board , taking the erasers outside for dusting plus other duties that they were capable of doing.
Transportation for children who lived too far to walk was often provided by horse-drawn sulky, which could only travel a limited distance in a reasonable amount of time each morning and evening, or students might ride a horse, these being put out to pasture in an adjoining paddock during the day. In more recent times, students rode bicycles.
This one is a very large cairn, quite often they are much smaller.. sometimes just a small pile on top of a large rock in the middle of the woods… To give you an idea of it’s size… you could lay across the top of the one pictured below and not drape over the sides at all.
Websters defines cairns as “A pile of stones heaped up as a landmark.” Cairns have served to memorialize people, locations or events. They can be found throughout North America and appear to have originated here in the Northeast. Cairns range in style from a few stones placed on top of a boulder, to enormous constructions containing hundreds of thousands of tons of stone.
Native americans used cairns as burial markers. When a fellow native american passed the marker, they would place a stone on the grave symbolizing their presence, paying respect to the dead.
One of my blog friends posted the following in reference to THIS POST a few days back…
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“Karen, there are billions in this ole world who, if they knew you, would say you *are* living The Big Life. And, they’d be right because they don’t have as much of anything as you have.
It’s all relative. I’m grateful to live in a country where, so far, hard work is rewarded and we can each spend our money the way we see fit.
Another thought…all those homes, cars, boats, etc. require staff and that means a paycheck to a *lot* of people. That money isn’t going to waste just because it’s not going to animal shelters, homeless, etc. That money is keeping people from being homeless, going hungry and, more than likely, being sent “back home” to help out there. A job and a paycheck aren’t small items, especially to the blue collar crowd.”
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Well, I’ll be honest with you. When I first read those words above, I was a little put off. My thoughts went immediately to defending my meaning in that post. But when I read Sandras words again.. I saw another side to this discussion, one that holds water. And once I let the walls down and truly -heard- what Sandra was saying..any negative feelings were put aside and a broader understanding took it’s place.
It occurs to me that this is something the world needs to do… to be able to have discussions about issues, to be open to a broader understanding, whether it’s personal or national relationships, gun control or solutions to poverty, unemployment, nuclear arms or government spending. It applies to everything.
Humbled a little today, I am. And believe me, I’m not living so large that I think I’m too good to say it here.
I am: ..still searching for that perfect job that combines my love for helping animals and people, includes an outlet for my creative abilities and brings me enough income so that I can help more animals and people and form more outlets for my creative abilities.
I think: …about those heart shaped peppermint patties that are sitting on the counter way too often.
I know: … I’ve still got so much to learn about life, but baby, I’ve come a long way….
I want: Peace on earth. Everywhere. In every. single. corner.
I have: ..what I need, and it feels so good to finally realize it.
I dislike: Mean people, they suck.
I miss: playing in a band, and hearing all the nuances of music… hearing loss has robbed most of it from me.
I fear: The list is too long….
I feel: A little disgust that I have allowed myself to gain some weight this winter, and it doesn’t feel good.
I hear: …bells, whistles and crickets 24-7. Hearing loss is a handicap my family and I live with on a daily basis.
I smell: the winter candy apple lotion I applied this morning….
I crave: a fresh almond butter croissant, gluten -free diet be damned.
I search: constantly.. for the next chapter.
I wonder: if our political climate in the US will ever straigten up and fly right.
I regret: not having pursued a better education when I was younger and not hearing impaired.
I love: My children, my husband, my animals, my life. Is it perfect? No… but I love it all.. and that’s all I need to know.
I care: I do… and most who I come into contact with know it.
I am always: Right!! Ha ha.. just kidding. most of the time.
I worry: about everything!! WAY too much! It’s my biggest problem… the worry.
I remember: The horrible pain, the belief that meaningful life was over, when my first serious boyfriend and I broke up.
I sing: Yes I do!.. in the car, in the shower… but you’re glad never in your presence, it’s a gift from me to you, believe me.
I argue: More than I should.
I write: … it’s therapeutic.
I lose: …when I argue too much.
I wish: … for peace, good health, and a long life of happiness for my family and all of us on this planet.
I listen: … but I don’t always hear. In more ways than one.
I don’t understand: Why the people of this planet can’t learn to live together and apart, with respect for each other’s different ways of life, different beliefs and without wanting to do harm.
I can usually be found: At the barn, at the computer, at the kitchen sink, huddled over laundry, walking the beach or country roads with the dog(s).
I am scared: aren’t we all. It’s something we all have in common.
I need: …one of those peppermint patties on the counter that I really just bought for the kids. Really.
I forget: More than I used to, thank you very much perimenopause.
I am happy: Just that.
If you’re so inclined.. please copy and paste, fill in your own blanks…and let me know if you do , I’d love to read it.
