Ed’s Place

    Around 12 years ago we tried to buy This Old House when it was in need of much repair and the 90 something year old owner, a lovely and very philanthropic woman had passed on.   Having no children of her own, she left the house to a University, and the University sold it at auction to use the funds for their needs.  We loved the old place and put in a bid. Initially we were told our offer was accepted, oh, did I leap for joy!  Only to discover a week later that another bid had been “unofficially accepted” by another party shortly before us, so sorry for the mistake,  and the fellow heard of our offer being accepted and hired a lawyer. Long story short, we had to walk away. 
   Who was this person who pulled This Old House out from under us? Was he going to tend to her many needs as we would have?   Was he a master of renovation? Did he care about her old bones enough to preserve them?  
    Years went by. We would drive by This Old House  ( literally THIS old house)  and see….. not much.  The yard around the house continued to grow up and around it.  Some beautiful trees in the driveway had been cut down (gasp!) … but the purpose for that remained unclear.  The fields remained overgrown.  The house needed paint.  Had he repaired the ceilings?  The walls?  That kitchen!  
   Five years go by, and we get a call.  A call, it turns out, from  Ed – the fellow who bought This Old House out from under us.  I should be clear about this, it wasn’t his fault.. it was that of a realtor who shall remain unnamed.   Anyway – Ed was having trouble keeping up with the place, it was “getting away from him”,  he was struggling with some personal issues and would we still have an interest in buying the old place?   Are you kidding.    He wasn’t! 
  Within a year, we did get to purchase This Old House, and the rest you already know if you’ve been reading here for the past five or so years.   
    So.. where did Ed go after he left This Old House?  He bought yet another run down property with significant acreage, a barn and two houses that needed work.  For whatever his reasons, he has for at least three moves now, been drawn to lovely old properties that need more work than he can mentally or physically handle, but he sees them, falls in love, pays good money for them.. and then lives there for a while trying to sort it all out.  It ultimately doesn’t get sorted, and he moves on. 
    Ed actually became a friend, and the Mr. helps him out where he can.  When this next property became too much for him for whatever the reasons or demons… an associate of  M looked over the place and saw a whole lot of potential he wants to tap into, and so he bought it. 
 What a glorious property!… The two homes are 1800’s and late 1700’s (stone house in pics below), all hand hewn post and beam. We had dinner at a local pub last night and then stopped at the old place to do some exploring before the new owner does what he will do. (develop).   While it’s a bummer to see old farms like this developed, it’s inevitable in many cases. What’s important (!) is that it’s developed responsibly and with respect for the beautiful terrain that is worthy of keeping intact.  Hopefully the homes will be restored.   That’s the influence my M hopes to have on the developer.  While this is what my guy does for a living.. the buyer is going to give development a go himself.  That can either work out OK or be a disaster… so much to know, and they have no experience. 

 At one time, long before Ed owned the property, it was a nursery.  Throughout the place there are lilacs and random flowering shrubs and perennials like iris, hosta and globe thistle.  It’s all overgrown and the rhyme and reason are no longer obvious, but the quiet beauty of it all is breathtaking.

 A barn stands in the middle of a field behind the houses – at one time a horse named “HotShot” lived there according to a plaque on the wall.

   
 So where did Ed end up?  Well, he kicked around a few ideas, including a Florida condo… but ultimately he bought himself a charming older small home on a busy road in the middle of town with not much yard to maintain.    I don’t know how he is feeling about the traffic and the close proximity to neighbors, but  the relief of finally landing where the land is not demanding…  must be a comfort. 

Cottage Life

   Lawn mowers are whirring,  lawn chairs  set out on the grass, decks and patios, flags unfurled, boats beginning to appear attached to  their summer moorings,  license plates from New Jersey and Massachusetts and New York tuck in to their summer addresses,  chinese paper lanterns are hung from porches…. summer life on Stella’s island has returned.  My faithful kayak, Ruby, and I have even taken a few paddles around the cove. 
Life is Good. 
   

 Make a wish!

The Greatness…. it’s Yuge.




     Just curious… at what point exactly is it safe to assume no one believes absolutely everyone but the POTUS is a liar? The guy who contradicts himself constantly, lies to the public openly, documented, not fake news when it comes out of his own mouth, those guys you all thought were swampy until they stood next to 45, the guy who throws his own people under the bus when it suits him, that guy. Jesus, NO ONE is going to want to work for him.  I’m surprised we aren’t yet seeing resignations left and right.  Unless… could it be true, the swamp is even swampier than we thought?  


       And…When does it feel justified to believe anything the news came out with if it were about the opposite party, but if it’s about  your guy, it’s all fake news? When does it start getting uncomfortable to defend this bullsh@t, even if you believe in his policy?

   R*ssia…. is going to provide us with transcripts?  Because we can’t rely on our own government (specifically the POTUS) to provide us with the truth?…. 

   What a zoo. 


Mothering

   I have been mothering things since I could walk, I’m pretty sure.  It started with my favorite Winnie the Pooh, which I still have… .. He and the Pooh my 3 year old son picked on our first trip to Disney World reside on my dresser. 

  The mothering moved up to pets we had in my childhood home, including dogs, cats, fish, parakeets, a hamster or two, a goat (long story for another day) and fancy silk mice I hid from my mother disguised in a P& G crate in my room. 
   I love being a mother!  It’s my most favorite thing in this world.  As for MY mother – well, she put up with one heck of a stubborn teen, and there may have been a grocery throwing incident or two and some pathetic grades from a reluctant student, but we came out of that tunnel with a treasured relationship.  The reason I believe I can do what I set my mind to is in part because my mother told me I could.  There’s no greater gift than that. 
   My kids are grown and we remain close.  I hope they will always come to me when they need something, anything. 

 I won’t ever stop being their mother, for sure the mothering instinct continues… but the daily coddling had to find another outlet… hence.. the critters on this farm serve an important purpose. For I can only be me. The Mother. 
Currently out in the little greenhouse, there are three chickens.  Our little greenhouse has become the chicken hospital.  They are looking a little iffy… sick with something but I’m not sure what. I’ve consulted a vet and all the chicken illnesses you can google on the internet.  So far, nothing really matches their symptoms exactly.  Chickens are tough to diagnose and fall prey to many illnesses.  It’s very important to keep their housing clean and give them proper nutrition.  These guys just look like they feel yucky, and one has a messy vent.  The vet advised against an antibiotic for now, with apple cider vinegar in their water and probiotic supplement in their feed.  
 Meanwhile.. back at the Eggplant on the other side of the garage… The young chicks and my older girls are doing well and as soon as this rain lets up I will bleach the hell out of the coop just for good measure.  The littles are still living in their own section ( under the tarp) until they reach the same size as the others. 
Let’s talk about rain – boy have we gotten our share.  This morning the horses are tucked into their stalls with grain and hay and an open top door for fresh air. 
 The mothering of anything will never be described as glamorous, we can say that for certain, can’t we.. …     Me at 6:30 this morning as I mothered the crew on the farm.  I’m not showing you my pajama bottoms soaked to the ankles…. yep, sometimes that’s how we roll around here. 
  Because of the torrent of rain we’ve been getting, everything is so vibrantly GREEN. We’ve planted the second half of the Garden beds, now I can only hope the tender plants don’t drown. 
  As I sit here typing this blog entry, my three “other kids” lie around me – This is the thing they do every day – whatever room I’m working in.. they find a spot to settle, moving with me through the house as I tackle the tasks at hand.  It’s a good life, the best life I could have hoped for, full and rich with  mothering.  
Happy Mother’s Day to you, my friends.  If you are a nurturer in any way, you are a mother of this earth. Celebrate you! 

Fire and Nice

  Jeez, I keep starting out with a nice garden post and just as I’m about to hit publish yet another fire breaks out in the swamp.  How’bout that Comey firing!….  this oughta be interesting. 
   Meanwhile.. back at the ranch…. 
  We’ve had a chilly spring so far in New England – as you drive along the roads and skim the fields and forest,  the trees look like they’re afraid to unfurl their leaves.  We did manage to plant half of our garden beds a few days ago…praying we don’t get a frost. 
 Planted on the left, the right still needs weeding and tilling.  Someone told us planting rye over the winter is good for vegetable garden beds.  I’m thinking not. 
 
 In the planted bed we have romaine, eggplant, yellow wax beans, yellow squash and those 500 or so onions.   I plant a row of marigolds at the base of the raised bed every year, as they help keep the bugs off the plants. It really does work and by mid summer produces a beautiful show of yellow and orange. 

 See how anemic the leafery looks just about everywhere?  Yet the grass is growing like crazy.  We’ve had plenty of rain.   My border garden tulips have come up again, good to see  the voles have not destroyed them. 
  On Staten Island back in the day, my grandfather Al had beautiful garden beds. His little house with it’s beautiful tiny lawn and blossoming cherry tree and tulip beds actually graced the cover of Scott’s turf bags and brochures.   The Tulips in the spring drew crowds, no kidding.  We weren’t allowed to pick them, but I had a favorite teacher, Miss Ferragano, who knew of his gardens and loved them.  He would bring me out to the garden bed with snippers in hand and let me choose the ones to snip. I would proudly go to school the next day with a beautiful bouquet for my favorite teacher. To this day a vase full of tulips reminds me of  Grandpa Al, a hard working,  kind and humorous soul who certainly  had his own trials in life, but you’d never know it by his attitude.  
 My “seaside real estate”  garden at the side gate is thriving, the phlox taking over and the new dawn rose climbers have taken over the trellis.  It’s called this because having resigned ourselves to the fact that seaside real estate had gotten too expensive to fullfill our dream of owning a little piece of it, I collected rocks and shells from our adventures and deposited them here.  Little did we know, the affordable opportunity to buy Stella would become a reality down the road. 
  The horses are loving their spring pasture grass… and the hay fields are flourishing too. 

 
Speaking of seaside real estate… Now that the renovation work is done at Stella and the grass seed has been sown, the new tender grass shoots are rising. 
  Have you ever come across “as the crow flies” destination totem poles?   I made one for Stella, we’ll “plant” it this weekend.  

A Voice from the Past

   Below is a link to a fascinating and horrifying article/Interview aired on 60 Minutes regarding War and Humanity.   After my previous and fairly heavy post, (thank you to all who participated)  I wanted to share my garden with you to lighten the load…but this came up in the news and I feel it’s so very important to share..   This is a must read for anyone, and it’s not a political statement, it’s a humanitarian statement. 

  I bet you join me in this…. I’ve often wondered “How could so many people follow and carry out the hideous orders of a man like H*Tler. How did that atrocity happen not so long ago? Especially in a well educated and supposedly enlightened Europe?… This man  in the article/interview below was in the heart of it, has perspective none of us possess.

 We need to learn from history and stop repeating mistakes.. we need to stop turning the other way, avoiding making contact, afraid to make waves because it’s a little uncomfortable.   We need to trust our gut instincts and have faith in truth prevailing. We need to voice our concerns in any way we are capable and willing to do so…even if it’s a little blog like mine or a facebook status. We can’t move mountains by ourselves, we can’t toss boulders, but we can at the very least toss pebbles, those little ripples traveling farther than you would think.   It matters, it’s important, let’s not allow our humanity to fall at the hands of the few elite who have use of the bigger platforms and abuse them. 

Please take a few minutes to click on the link and read. 

I am what a Pre-Existing Condition looks like

      Have you been paying attention to just exactly what this is that the idiots in Washingt*n are trying to pass off as Healthcare? Some members of the GOP admit they didn’t even read the damned proposal before they voted.  Holy sh*t, isn’t that what they’re getting paid very well for?  Isn’t this thing important enough to read the fine print, let alone the big print all the way through ?    If you voted for the Orange Scream, is this what you hoped for?  Basically, if you’re a woman, you ARE a pre-existing condition.  If you’re poor, if you’re sick, if your child is sick.. you’re f*cked.  One idiot in particular said in slightly different words, if you’re sick it’s your fault – poor choices!  
  WTF. 
  I don’t know how any member of the Rep*blican party can feel good about the soulless group currently representing them… how did such a ruthless, soulless, heartless, clueless group obtain such power again.  Apparently we don’t learn important lessons from history, we are doomed to repeat them.  When did enough of us decide that decency, democracy, fairness, common sense, truth, justice and THE AMERICAN WAY… was worth throwing under the proverbial bus because -change -.   What -change- did we bring on that was worth forgoing our core values, our very decency.  Why are we turning a blind eye?  Why is nepotism suddenly OK.  Why is the POTUS lying about little things, big things, getting our HISTORY wrong,  pissing off world leaders at random, tweeting ridiculousness in the middle of the night…  and getting away with it –  how is this OK?  What happened, America?  WTF happened?  
   You know what’s worse than the joke below? …. 
the fact that it’s  actually what he said.  
****************************
 The further a society drifts from the truth…
The more it will hate those that speak it. 
–George Orwell
  Funny thing – when I talk like this, I am often accused.. and I use the word accused… of being a Liberal. A Democrat.  As if those are dirty words.  I’m actually none of the above.  But hell, when you express concern for human beings, for decency, for fairness… for inclusion, … if that’s what you want to call me?  It means the republican party doesn’t represent any of these things.   So I’ll take it. 
  Believe people when they tell you who they are. 


     

Invisible

   When you’re not extremely old and your voice sounds fairly normal,  being hearing impaired is an invisible handicap that can frustrate others as well as yourself.  I’m not using the word “deaf” because I do still hear some things….this hearing impairment of mine is such a strange thing.  According to the various hearing specialists I’ve seen,  I am deaf.  Language deaf in particular.  What -language deaf- means is I don’t hear all the parts of speech anymore, so when someone is talking to me it sounds as if they’ve got both hands over their mouth or like I’m hearing their voice through water.  I’ve lost all mid and high tones completely, so I hear only the base of things, music included.  To top off that annoyance, I have tinnitus…  bells and whistles, crickets, chirps and tweets go off all the time in my ears, 24-7.   That’s my brain’s way of  creating the sound it knows I should be receiving from my ears. Since no sound is coming from my ears, my brain MAKES the sound to compensate.  Crazy, right? 
     For me, the loss of music is the worst. I used to play instruments and absolutely loved music, so many forms of it, too.  Sometimes I can still tell you what song is playing in my vicinity just by the base it presents. The song itself I know only from memory. 
     So.. the invisible part.  When you have a handicap that’s invisible.. more often than not, you are on the receiving end of other people’s frustration with you, not their sympathy.  Now, I don’t want people’s sympathy – Lord knows there are worse things in life than being “deaf’.  I am so grateful for the life I have, in so many ways.  There’s no denying, though, that the frustration displayed by others on occasion gets old.   
   A few days ago I was at the grocery store and apparently the clerk asked me if I had any “gold coins”.  I didn’t hear her and kept looking down at my purse trying to find my scan card.  When I looked up she was staring at me with a pissed off look.   I recognized the look and said “I’m sorry, I’m hearing impaired. Did you say something?”… She then repeated the line, and because she wasn’t using her mouth much I couldn’t read her lips.   Not her fault, but I had to say it again… “still didn’t get what you’re saying, I apologize… can you try one more time? ”   and she said loudly and clearly.. “are you for real?” The person behind me  kindly touched my arm, looked me right in the eye and spoke clearly using her mouth expressively… and I got what she was saying.  One stupid line took three minutes and a snarky comment to get past.
  My part time job is as editor of a local publication.  Part of my job is having to interview people to highlight their business here in town.  I have a very understanding employer, and because of the hearing issue, I conduct interviews through e-mail and it’s worked out really well… most of the time.   I send a series of questions,  simple questions that are easy to answer, which are answered in return e-mail.. .. and I spin an article out of the info.  Sometimes… the message is lost on the person I’ve contacted for the interview.  
Recent conversation via e-mail:
 Good morning! Below you’ll find a few questions regarding the profile article that will appear in the ____.  Please answer at your convenience in return e-mail and I will put together an article and get it back to you for review. 
 *I prefer to interview in person – call me. 
 I understand, but as we discussed earlier, I am hearing impaired and prefer to gather information via e-mail so that I have all the details correct.  Should only take a few minutes of your time, you have a week to get it back to me. Thank you! 
  *Can’t you just call my secretary then?  I hate typing.
  I can’t call her but if you forward this e-mail to her or give me her e-mail, she can answer the questions too. Whatever works is fine with me. 
*  How about you just come in and we can talk in my office? 
I understand that might be easier for you, but I will still be attempting to read your lips and write on the paper at the same time, I fear I won’t get the information correct, really need the article to be accurate. 
* OH, I see.. just bring a tape recorder and you can write it down later! 
I won’t be able to hear the tape later.  Any chance you can just type the answers to the few questions in an e-mail?  I pulled the rest off your website. 
    Mind you… all this was e-mail back and forth. Already he had typed almost as much as if he had just answered the questions initially in e-mail.  I haven’t heard back yet… probably because he’s frustrated. 
  Last Saturday night I took one of our dogs to the emergency vet. The jury is still out on whether she’ll be OK, we go back to the vet today.   Anyway… the receptionist had multiple piercings on her lips, big hoops and little studs, my God that had to be uncomfortable.   As you can imagine, I’m staring at her lips to try to decipher what she’s saying. I do this with anyone I meet.  She doesn’t know this, of course, and by her demeanor it’s clear she thinks I’m staring at her piercings and has taken offense.  I realize what’s happening and say “I’m sorry – I am hearing impaired and need to read your lips to get through the conversation, that’s why I’m staring at your mouth, I  should have explained, I apologize”.     She then smiles and says.. .OOOH…. that’s ok then!  I thought you were being rude. 
  I was chaperoning at one of my son’s dances. A few other moms I had not met previously were there as well.  The next day I got an e-mail from a good friend –  “Hey,  I guess you were chaperoning with  (insertname) last night. She called me this morning and said – Wow,  M’s mom is a real bitch. Several times when I tried making small talk she just flat out ignored me!.   My friend has a great sense of humor, laughed and said –  She’s deaf!!…. and I had to laugh too. 
*sigh.  I hate rude people. I hate looking or behaving like a rude person, yet that’s the impression people get around me on occasion. Sometimes I think I should just wear a sign that says – I’m deaf.    Out of frustration I actually had a tee shirt made that says  Deaf on the front, and Still Deaf on the back.  Then I realized it sounds like I’m frustrated, so I never wore it. 
     For my family, it’s just as annoying for them as it is for me.  Can you imagine having to repeat yourself sometimes three and four times to get a simply line of communication across? Daily?  Or how about that closed caption scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen, always.   
    What I have to stop doing is the apologizing.  Bad habits are hard to break, though.  It’s not other people’s fault that they can’t see my handicap, but it’s not my fault that I’m deaf either.  I can’t change my hearing status, but I can certainly stop apologizing for it.    NOTE TO SELF. 


   
  
 
  
  

Cottage Life & Family

   Friday and Saturday weather was glorious, Spring is in full bloom and for whatever the reason, my allergies aren’t bad.  I use Nasacort spray every few days and it seems to be keeping the allergy misery at bay.  I am also happy to report that since I began taking a small dose of  Melatonin  each evening, my sleep is indeed improving.  Boy what a difference that makes… proper sleep. 
   
   On Friday evening we invited the moms down to Stella for dinner as the temps were in the 70’s and sunny most of the day.  The kids showed up too, and it was such a joy to share the evening with all.  M and I feel blessed to still have our moms around to enjoy the place, and we love the close relationship they have with our kids.  Not a day goes by that M doesn’t miss his father, who passed too young from Lung cancer, and we often think of what we all  have missed out on, what he missed out on, having left us too soon when the kids were still very young.  Because of that experience, we cherish those who are still among us, and the times we get to spend together. 

 These two are my true joy.  The fact that they get along even better as they mature is a beautiful thing. I know they will always have each other’s back and that is such a gift for a parent. 
   
My mother makes the best Gin & Tonic with a fresh twist of lime.. ever. 
The secret is in the ingredients… fresh lime squeeze, and Beef Eater Gin. 
Any other Gin just doesn’t cut it. 
 I’m pretty sure it’s in the dictionary next to the word refreshing. 
 I made that Trisha Yearwood Banana Pudding I posted previously (it’s in the recipes if you browse that tab on my blog)  I substituted the meringue on top  with fresh whipped cream enhanced with a little vanilla and a little sugar – absolutely delicious, wow.  Also hard to believe that was the first time I ever made  pudding from scratch.  When I make icebox cake, I use the Jello Cook and serve variety but what a difference, the pudding from scratch, and what a delicious and easy crowd pleasing dessert this is. 
 Frasier has gotten used to cottage life very quickly too.. he has his own set of bowls and bed and a gate on the deck so I can keep him up there if I’m working in the little yard and don’t want to worry about him chasing the many  rabbits.  At that moment he was wondering if I was going to share a little taste of that pudding.  This after he had already been given a hotdog and a hamburger.  He’s just a little chubby like his mama right now.  *sigh   We both adore food. 

Yesterday while the sun was  shining with  the temps in the 70’s,  my son and I ventured out in the kayaks and did a little exploring.  The water was still chilly at 40 something degrees but it was clear and refreshing and the salt air scent was intoxicating.  Cormorants were resting on the rocks, wings expanded, sunning themselves. The leaves on the trees are just coming out along the shoreline, but we saw many people enjoying their yards and decks, busy  with the spring opening rituals that are a part of cottage life.  I love watching the “island” wake up for the season and feel so very grateful that we are a part of it.

Blossoming

 New England has seen one wet Spring so far… everything’s pretty soggy ’round here.  The leaves are beginning to pop and pollen would coat everything right about now if it weren’t so rainy.  The grass is a vibrant green and the horses are loving the pastures… 

 My tulips are blooming in the border gardens and the peach trees are just bursting… 

 The vegetable garden beds so far have yielded an abundant weed crop… and the 500 onions are coming along…   we’ve got some work to do out there. 
 The chicks were moved out to the garage a few weeks ago, and now reside in their own little section of the Egg Plant.  There is bird mesh separating them from the big girls until they are about the same size – approx five months old.  The Mr. built a small make-shift coop for them so they are protected at night.  It’s basically a big plywood box with a door and holes in it.  
Amazing how fast chicks grow – this little girl (Florence) is  a Dark Brahma, the feathers on her feet are adorable.  
 I’ve been letting the big girls out to free range when I’m out there cleaning… it’s so good for them but the coyote and hawk population around here makes it treacherous. 
 And because I gotta be me,  let’s talk about this unpleasant subject for just a moment….  how’bout that interview 45 gave Reuters yesterday in regard to his first 100 days?….   I said from the very beginning…. I don’t think he wants the job!  (And I really didn’t think he’d get it)…. Why would a man of his temperament want all the restraints the POTUS position will bring to his life?  He would hate it!…. 
So I have to tell you… I do get just a little satisfaction from reading this yesterday… 
*sigh.    He’s gotta be him, too.