This Old House 2 – Page 19 – Middle aged musings from farm & hearth

The Christmas House

If you’ve been visiting my blog for a while, you know about Stella – our little cottage on the cove. We learned about that vintage coastal community through a dear friend who lives just down the road from us here at This Old House. She and her husband raised their kids during summer months in their cottage near Stella – It maintains the same rustic 1930’s seasonal cottage charm as ours, partly because of her loving touches just about everywhere, and her husband’s beautiful artwork to compliment it. So, we are neighbors both here and down at the shore.

I need to tell you just a little about “Mrs. F” without giving away her personal information. She is a real dynamo! Having already lived most of her 90th decade, she continues to maintain two households with a little help from her children and grands, still volunteers for several organizations, still creates, gardens and bakes for family, friends, and the causes she supports. I have several perennial plants in my cottage gardens now that come from her garden, they will always remind me of her, and my gratitude to her for having helped us find a cottage of our own.

I stopped in a few days ago to see the bird carvings her son had created, and was just blown away by the Christmas decor she had absolutely everywhere in her charming home. An observation I’ve made regarding “Mrs. F” and a few other people I’ve been lucky to know who have lived well into their 90’s… despite heartbreaking events like illness or the passing of a spouse, they all share something vital – and that is to live fully with purpose, intention, keeping up with family and friends, nurturing their creativity and being active in causes they believe in throughout all of their days.

Browsing all the decorations and artwork and treasures around her home, the warmth of the place and the person and the people she holds dear surrounds you. I told “Mrs. F” her home reminded me of a Christmas House… and she said that is exactly what her grandchildren call it.

The ornaments on her tree are vintage, some she made out of copper, some given to her by students during her teaching career.

The sitting room above has beautiful furniture pieces

made by members of her family.

This bathroom has so much spunk… “Mr. and Mrs. F.” papered it with old

New Yorker Magazine Covers… I absolutely love it.

Below is the only work in acrylics her husband

ever produced – He preferred to work in oils.

Of his many beautiful works, this is one of my favorites, and hers.

A blacksmith’s shop.. with the forge’s glow spilling out into the evening snow

A collection of Steiff toys from her husband’s childhood live in her office/study…

The story of how steiff toys came to be is a worthy read –

you’ll find it HERE.

So many treasures of the heart in this old farm house down the lane… Thank you, my dear friend “Mrs. F” , for sharing it with us here on my blog.

There’s one more thing I’d like to share – Mrs. F’s recipe for Swedish cookies. I was gifted with a lovely box full of cookies she made for the holidays, and these particular cookies are absolutely divine buttery sugary perfection.

Grandma Mabel’s Swedish Cookies

1 lb. Butter

1 cup sugar

4 cups flour

1 egg yolk

dash of salt

1 shot of Brandy

Combine ingredients – Work with hands until a paste dough is formed. Chill for 20 minutes, Roll out dough on floured surface, nice and thin. Cut shapes, brush with egg wash so that decorations like colored sugar, etc. stick to the cookie. Bake at 350 Degrees, 12 min or until just golden.

Coop Revival

Thank you for all the kind words regarding the loss of my dear horse, Opie. His absence is keenly felt by both myself and the four other horses that live with us up on the hill. Even the farrier had tears in his eyes when we told him Opie was no longer on the roster for shoes. They truly become family, and I know many of you understand the pain of the loss through your own experiences.

When we moved into This Old House after the renovation, (my name for her has always been Saving Grace, or just Grace) I decided I wanted Chickens. Our previous three homes had the same theme, small horse farms, but it stopped at horses, dogs and cats. I wanted to add to the menagerie and the husband liked the idea of actually producing something on our “farm”. There’s something very satisfying about growing some of your own food. We’ve lived here for eight years now and we hay our fields and have a decent two plot vegetable garden, and bringing in fresh eggs from chickens that are fed wholesome quality feeds is just a good feeling. Plus I love animals of all kinds, more for me to love, right?

My current flock of 14 chickens consists of a few very old ones – two from the original batch, and a handful of middle aged hens from newer batches I brought in throughout those eight years. Chickens only lay eggs for about three years, their first two being the most productive – and some a little longer, but they can live to be ten or so. Many farmers either eat their laying chickens after their prime (which will not result in a plump oven roaster, as laying hens are built and fed differently than meat birds) or send them to auction so they can bring in a fresh batch of laying chickens, where some other sucker might buy them thinking they have laying hens. About half my hens no longer lay eggs, but I just can’t dump them.

Oatmeal with cream and blueberries in a graham pie crust for breakfast

They’ll stay here and live comfortably till they pass on. My current coop only holds the 14 chickens I have, so… to bring in more chickens means I need a bigger coop. The Mr. rolls his eyes at this, but my truth is my truth – I can’t dump or kill and eat something that has lived here on the farm. This is why we don’t have cows. He’d love a few, but only if in two years they can be sent to the “beauty parlor”. I can’t serve up Henry from the freezer after I’ve fed and cared for him for two years. We have a friend who actually labels his beef in the freezer – Betsy, Ivy, Franny… and so on. I want to save two veal calves and raise them, but we are at an impasse on the terms and conditions, so we remain… cowless.

I did convince him we need a bigger coop. One would think since I’m married to a home builder, building a new coop would be no problem at all. Ah, but taking time out of the work crew’s schedule to build a frivolous coop just isn’t prudent. So we looked online at pre-mades, like the one we ordered from the Amish nine years ago. They’ve gone up in price, of course! There are so many options out there too, from the simple to the ornate…

Can you imagine?

My current coop below… The EggPlant. We added on a little here and there, so it now looks like a bunch of afterthoughts.. which it is. I’d like to streamline it – and I have some ideas on how we can move the whole operation up to where the horses live, instead of down by the garage and house. In bad weather or deep snow it can be a chore to get over to the chicken coop to do those chores and then trek up to the barn – with some of the same supplies kept in two different places. After much discussion and a little bitching (!) , I think we’re going to go with my idea… stay tuned!

Below are the new chick breeds (three of each) I’ve ordered from Cackle Hatchery , one of the big operations you can mail order your chicks from. Sometimes I have bought from local grain stores, but those are always the standard breeds and this time I want to fortify a rainbow of egg colors. The big hatcheries have a better breed selection. They’ll arrive at the beginning of March, so we need to get cracking on the new coop build! (fingers crossed)

Lavender Ameraucana (blue egg)

French Black Copper Maran (dark brown egg)

Olive egger ( green egg)

Faverolle (sp? light brown egg)

Speckled Sussex (light brown egg)

Austra White (white/ivory egg)

The chicks will arrive as days old babies – and will need to be raised until full size in what will be the new coop, away from the mature hens in the current coop. This is for their protection, otherwise they would most likely be bullied and killed. Chickens can be horrible to each other. Think of the sayings – hen pecked, pecking order – and you’ll understand the origin. Once they are full size, I’ll introduce them all together in the new coop. They should be able to live together in the new larger coop and coop yard happily.

Opie

A few days before Christmas I lost my dear horse, Opie. He’s been my equine buddy for many years, been my therapy horse when times were scary or difficult or sad – we’ve seen enough of that over the years. He was in his early twenties and I always believed I’d keep him healthy and enjoying life on the farm until we were both old as dirt. Sadly, in the blink of an eye, it all went sideways and the most humane decision was to get him comfortable and let him go peacefully. (for my horse friends, some how he twisted his gut overnight and by the time I found him at feed time in the early morning, he was in too much pain and poor vital stats to force him through the trailer and surgery to try to correct it. How we didn’t hear him struggling up on the hill in his stall overnight just kills me). I am heartbroken, he was family.

Here’s another thing I want to say – because I gotta be me. His barn mates miss him, they’re still looking for him. Our Max, also an older boy who is generally more attached to Kristen than I, saw me crying yesterday as I looked over to where Opie is buried, and walked over and put his head in my chest and just stood there as I wept. Animals may not have our vocabulary or our understanding of all things, but they know pain, they know loss, they care about each other and for us. If you have animals in your care, they are not a machine, they are not a toy or a trophy or a tool to be ignored when we aren’t feeling like dealing with them or aren’t thrilled with their performance. If you’ve decided to have a pet – dog, horse, cat, farm animals, whatever…. Treat them as you would a family member, with kindness and compassion and the respect they deserve and especially those we ask so much of. When you think of what we ask of the horse, it’s astounding they obey.

Good Bye, dear Opie – you were my once in a life time horse. I will miss you for the rest of my life.

Friendships – the very best kind of gift

Many years ago I bought a young miniature horse from a lovely woman who became a dear friend. We spent years together driving our horses in carts through the woods in Old Lyme near her farm, and visiting nursing homes and rehab facilities from time to time with our mini’s. It was very uplifting to be in the presence of “C”, she was and is at 90 still a force to be reckoned with, a real spitfire, a hardy New Englander, and as honest and compassionate as they come.

When the time came for C and her beloved husband to retire from their horse farm, she gifted me with her beautiful black and white paint driving mare, Lacey. It was a heartbreaking thing, letting go of that part of the life she loved, and as usual she did it with stoic grace. Lacey has been with me (and her side kick Coady) ever since. C’s journey continued to the sunshine state, and then back here to be near family, where she and her husband moved into an assisted living community to get the care he needed. He passed recently, and the loss has been particularly hard on her. C is an example of nine decades of a life full of adventure and love and hard work and compassion and caring for people, animals and for the environment. One of those people you know you’re lucky to call “friend”.

Last weekend two other people I am lucky to call friends took time out of their busy schedule to haul my mini horses, and help me reunite C with her beloved horse, Lacey, for a visit. It was chilly outside but our hearts were warmed by the big smiles and happy tears to witness the reunion.

Thank you to my two dear friends for your big hearts, your generosity of time and effort and caring – a Christmas Wish granted. And Thank you, C, for teaching valuable life lessons without ever intending it, leading the way in all our “mini” adventures, and showing us all what a life well lived looks like.

Peace be with us all…

As I came in from feeding horses and chickens I saw all this beauty in the misty drizzly damp evening light. I wish I could instill the peace found in those moments in the hearts of every human being. All the ugly division and the energy it saps is so unnecessary.

Don’t let those who don’t know your name or your story and have never truly given a thought to your well being rob the relationships you have built over the years through shared experiences and camaraderie with those who have. Look around the here and now and appreciate what you bring to each other’s table in the big and small ways, the kind gestures over the years, even the small gestures. It is not in the party affiliations, it’s not in the politicians or those who fan the flames of division and hate. America’s greatness is in each of us, in how we rally together, overcome adversity, how we treat and respect each other and work together.

Peace be with us all –

ThanksChristmas!

I hope you had an enjoyable Thanksgiving weekend, and we certainly did. There were just a few stumbles – aren’t there always? First…. my lemon meringue pies turned into lemon soup. If you’ve never made them, here’s what I didn’t know. I thought I’d add a little more lemon juice than the recipes requires… to give it just a little more lemon zing. Well… too much lemon zing kills the corn starch -stick-togetherness…. hence.. soup. Stick to the recipe on that one.

Then… Dear old Dad came in wearing his MAGA red baseball hat. I ignored it, because he’s entitled to wear whatever he wants to wear and think whatever he wants to think, and I wasn’t taking the bait. Until he took to yelling and pointed fingering his opinion at several of my other guests and didn’t stop yelling when I asked. And that’s when I intervened with some yelling of my own. Not one of our finer moments, and very typical of our relationship, sadly.

My apple pies, that thankfully came out delicious, not soup-like.

I used honeycrisp apples, cortlands, empires, mcintosh.

It was a great mix – honeycrisp my absolute favorite.

Other than that miserable moment, we had an enjoyable dinner and time spent with family.

The weekend after Thanksgiving is when Christmas comes out of the closets, the basement, and the shed at this old house. As of today, the halls are decked, and although the picture doesn’t reflect it, the pumpkins have been removed from the front stoop.

My Christmas cactus are in full bloom and the cottage geranium

is still pretty in pink.

My Aunt Virginia made this tree in ceramics class many moons ago – It’s my favorite decoration. Several of my friends have them as well, very popular back in the 70’s-80’s. I bet a few of you have one, too..

This morning while I fed horses, the prettiest pink hues spread across the

landscape… only to fade to New England grey shortly after.

Currently drizzling outside, more rain in the forecast – and I’m feeling at peace as I sit at my desk writing out christmas cards, and a touch of sad- because a few on my list are no longer with us. I write little notes in some of the cards, especially to those who have had a difficult year. I think it’s a sad thing – that letter writing and christmas card sending is becoming a dying tradition, so I’m keeping it up on my end, regardless.

Till soon –

Snow Day

Under normal circumstances they don’t like each other- they argue over who’s the boss, they don’t always perceive the same things as dangerous or even agree on who’s a friend and who’s a foe. They don’t share well with each other, but somehow the storms change things. Butt to Butt- they weather those storms and find common ground, they find comfort in each other. We could learn a few things from dogs…..

Something I took for granted for all these years- Democracy. I never realized how truly fragile it is, and at any point in history, what we depend on can come crumbling down. Maybe a dividing, lying, egotistical blowhard like Tr*mp had to happen in order to flush out all the corruption, the hypocricies, the bigotry, racism and blind allegiances that clearly still course through the veins of our republic. Maybe all the shortsightedness on both sides of the aisle and the less than stellar motives of some of the extremists, both left and right, needed to be exposed in order to eventually heal what is clearly very broken.

I’m encouraged by the good things that are coming of this collosal mess, people are voting, for one thing. Women are coming forth and getting elected at record rate – Republicans and Democrats are questioning some of the failings of their own parties and striving for something better. In many places We the People are being heard. Amen… and Amen again.

Last night we had our first real snow fall –

This morning it’s all pretty wet, with rain in the forecast.

The green thing in the upper right hand corner is the umbrella I was using to shield me from the wind and drizzle as I fed horses and chickens. That’s the thing about these adorable farm animals. Doesn’t matter the weather, they need their feed. My morning commute …..

Opie, not particularly fond of selfies, waits impatiently for grain.

Fiona says Good Morning! (actually, she’s clucking ” It’s cold – where’s my F-ing oatmeal” . Yep, she swears – I’m a bad influence, I know it. )

I’ve started the holiday decorating inside – not too christmas-y yet because we’re hosting Thanksgiving dinner here. Nothing says disrespect for the Thankful holiday like Christmas up in your face before you’ve even carved the bird.

Miss Sally’s favorite perch …..

Usually I have a coffee cake or brownies or cookies in the glass cake stand on the kitchen island. We’re all trying to watch our calorie intake ( we’re watching it, alright… as it goes in our mouths….) and for some reason I believe we’ll eat less crap if it comes in small wrapped packages… ha ha ha… ha.

Anyway… a few chuckles for you on this dreary grey New England day….

I hope all is well in your neck o’the woods –

Till soon….

Time well spent

In my last post I shared with you our glorious fall weather down at our cottage by the sea. Back here on the farm I’ve been walking our little trail system with the dogs almost daily. The sweet scent of fallen decaying leaves is just as intoxicating up here. ( jeez, you just can’t use that word “decay” in any way that it doesn’t sound like death.) Anyway! … The trail may not be a super long one, but it has monster hills – a good workout indeed. This weekend my kids were around – My daughter to ride the horses and my son worked on his lot up over the hill where he will some day build his home. When they were done with their “stuff”, they came to sit by the fire with mom and dad and the dogs, and then we went for a woods walk to work off those grilled smoked Gruyere cheese, tomato and thin sliced deli ham sandwiches. We had calories to burn (damn it) !

This is a very large tree down at the edge of my son’s lot – it’s twisted and split,

and depending on a much thinner tree to remain standing.

Bailey doesn’t come on my long walks, as she’s older and would have a hard time keeping up. I warned my son that this was the case, but he wanted her along (she was his dog from the start, and they still adore each other all these years later) and so he ended up carrying her a third of the time. At one point she belly flopped right into the stream, that’s when we knew she needed a rest.

Now…

and

Many moons ago…

There is a thin stream running through the little valley at the back of our property, where the old spring is located. The farmers who lived here before used to bring water up to the house and barn from this stream and spring. The water runs cold and clear, and we do find the occasional fish, although it’s a rare occurrence. The stream dries out if we have a very dry summer.

Today I watered and fertilized the houseplants. This isn’t exciting, of course, but tucked among my christmas cactus (beginning to bloom) and the too-big-for-it’s-pot Violet, sits the lone geranium I brought home from Stella by the Sea. This little gem isn’t aware the seasons have turned and she should be brown and shriveled. Pink pedals stretch and leafy stems reach out to touch the warm rays of the sun through the windows. She’s content enough to bloom where she’s planted.

Instead of discussing the election (Voters showed up in record numbers to the polls! More than 100 women elected to congress! The House brings back some balance… woohooooo!) and instead of regurgitating the most recent false news rants and diplomatic failures of the twitterer in chief, I’m going to share this simple image. It caught my eye for my age old love of the characters and the action depicted…. and it’s powerful message in these simplest words.

Till soon, friends……

Off Season Island

Yesterday Connecticut experienced the most glorious fall weather – Although my editorial job begged for attention at the computer, I just could not waste hours inside while outside was so gorgeous…. T-shirt weather even! The leaves are peak, too. 🍁🍂So I put on my sneaks and drove down to our cottage, Stella by the Sea, to check on things after the recent heavy rainfalls and extreme high tides doused the landscape and burn off some fat cells (the never ending struggle).

Stella on the right was just fine – water turned off, lines flushed so no pipes will freeze during frigid winter months. She’s covered in acorns and oak leaves, the spent perennials need attention, but that’s a clean up chore for another day.

A few of the geraniums are still thriving, sorta hate to just leave them there to die. I did bring home one small pot and placed it among my houseplants, we’ll see how it overwinters.

After inspections I walked the winding roads of the “island” , which is actually more of a peninsula, to take in the fall splendor. Truly the shoreline is never more beautiful than when cloaked in autumn golds, reds and yellows. I wish I could shower you with the sweet scent of fallen leaves and woodsmoke as you browse these photos. There’s just a tinge of sadness, to see the chairs and picnic tables sitting empty, the boats tucked away, the window shades pulled down, curtains drawn, bikes stored in sheds, boat racks empty. Even the summer chicken coop in one cozy cottage abandoned till next year. There are many flowers still in bloom, but the original planters who enjoy them all summer are long gone. The little vegetable gardens abandoned too.

Below is an old outhouse located just across the road from Stella – once used by the occupants of the cottages before indoor plumbing. Now home to various critters in need of shelter.

I’ve heard the same sentiment shared over and over again from the “old timers” in this little 300 acre cottage community. While it’s been a waterfront farm in the same family for over 300 years, since the late 1800’s the camp Tents, and eventually cottages in the 1930’s – arrived to help the family support the farm. This no frills little place with two coves on long island sound in the Atlantic has brought so much peace to so many. In these difficult times when I’m feeling really discouraged about the fate of humanity if we can’t find our way to unity, Stella has come to the rescue time and again. Yesterday was no exception.

Thank you for your comments, I always appreciate that you give moments of your precious time to share with me. May we all find our way back to Peace on Earth in the little ways we’re capable.

When Words Become Weapons

     Words that have been weaponized by people in power who want to see a divided nation- Liberal, democrat, republican, conservative republican, immigrant. 

     Look up the actual definitions for each.  All goals for a healthy society- necessary components for balance.  Every one of our lives have been enriched in some way by various policies  pushed through by any one of the above referenced affiliations. Each has its strengths and weaknesses- Indeed there have been fails as well, as there always will be with so many things at stake.  That’s why it’s so important for any healthy functioning society to work through differences for common gain.

       We’ve fallen so far away from that. Yes, political figures are partly to blame, but Some actually have good intentions, and  shame  on all of us for feeding off the  greed of those who don’t. We are better than this.  So I’m asking anyone who bothers to read my posts, no matter what your political affiliation, to stop spreading hate. Stop fueling division.  Someone who may have saved your ass during a crisis may be of the very party you mock.  Customers who support your small local business, The teacher that protected your kid from a bully? Ditto. The cop who came to your rescue? The firefighter, the babysitter, the guy who removes your trash. 

     Have your beliefs, but research them and leave the hate out of them. If you call yourself religious but do not act with kindness, compassion or empathy , you need to find a new religion or give it up entirely- because that’s just a hypocrite. 

     With that said, I’m getting off this particular soapbox.   I hope someday the tide will turn in this country to stick with facts and civility as we tackle our many problems- what we have become is truly heartbreaking, and we will be our own demise if we don’t wake the fuck up.