Our First Harvest

 

I went out to the garden this morning to examine post rain shower, and what do you think I found?  That the radish bulges were really starting to bulge in places, so down I kneeled, examining, moving in a circle around the bed.  I brushed some dirt away from a few swollen roots.  I hemmed, I hawed.  Then I reached in and plucked, a few reds, a few whites and even a purple.

Very suddenly my garden helper appeared from feeding the chickens their morning grass as I was spraying the dirt off of the young radishes.  She then did the heavy work of carrying our harvest inside. 

Then of course came the tasting.  The sweet tender, with the sharp spicy aftertaste of the first picked radish of the season.  Worth the wait.

Cecilia has a new passion.  The chickens.  We don boots and pants and go to check eggs.  In to the chicken coop we enter and Cecilia promptly turns to her mother or father and says quite pointedly "GO!"  That being said we nervously sat outside or in the doorway and watched as Cecilia happily held the chickens.  In and out the door and ramp she goes and entertainment, pleasure and joy follow.  While at first guilt at not accompanying our 2 year old consumes a parent in this scenario, it is very quickly realized that neither the chickens nor the child need our help in this relationship.  Each chicken is in turn chased, hugged, kissed and loved.  Any thought of leaving the coop or pen is unacceptable by the girl and is met with cries and screams of protest, for Miss Ce only wants to play with chickens these days.  You'll see why in the following photos.

Weekend Scenes

Spud Club + Front Porch.

Scenes From The Resident 2 Year Old

Painting Her Own Face.

Stickering Her Body Post Shower.

Putting The Horses To Bed.

My Morning Wander

I like to take a walk each morning and admire our yard and gardens.  I make a latte, put a wool jacket on over my nightgown and mudboots over my barefeet.  I then make my way around the property, watching, noting, imagining.  There are so many successes out there.  I love to watch the third, fourth and fifth set of leaves come in this time of year.  Those little leaves that start the identification process of the plants and very suddenly we see buds turning to blooms.  In late spring you can often see the difference in plants between the morning and evening times.

I watch my transplants, seedlings and seeds leafing out, getting established, sprouting and it feels like success.  I forever doing little bits each and every day.  Waiting until just the right moment to find a home for all the lush greenery coming into our lives.  It is such a treat to watch our little piece of land take shape, to transform into our personal vision for the world.  It is a vision that involves minimal amounts of mowing.  It is a vision that provides our family with many edibles.  It is a vision that creates a quiet little oasis in our backyard.  It is a slow process creating privacy with plants, but it is one of beauty and joy in my opinion.

Won't you watch a garden grow today my friends?

Reliving Childhood

The amount of time we spend in life trying to reclaim experiences, tastes, sensations, smells and joy of our youth is astounding.  Thirty minutes out of the way?  No problem.  Everything's closed?  No problem.  Just seeing it, realizing it's entirely different (of course) and creating a new memory there.  To attempt to reclaim some of the simple pleasures of our youths and hand those on to our children.  Of course I'm certain the moments that Cecilia will try to recreate will be different than those I try to create for her.   We connect to our ancestors as we allow the ocean waves to lap at our toes, my mother played hear, and her mother before that.  We eat hot dogs as comfort at the same counter that they've always been served at. 

The risk of trying to relive these childhood experiences of course is that everything has changed, your size, your company, the traditions, the excitement.  By going back to old haunts we somehow hope our 8 year old brother will be sitting next to us, or our mother will be leading the way, or a grandparent will help us float in the ocean.  Alas this nostalgia is filled with disappointment, we arrive at the wrong hours and the arcade is closed, or our tastes have changed and the drink is too sweet.  We are no longer 4 feet tall.  

Luckily we are capable of adapting and finding new traditions.  We find a new eatery that we can return to, we make note of the arcades hours for future visits.  Because while so much may have changed, we find we still want to return and walk the transforming shore.

The Cape

Well we went to Massachusetts and only brought one tick home.  In the mean time we had a lot of fun, specifically celebrating Aunt Anastasia's High School Graduation.  She's going here next year, oh to be 18 and traveling!  We saw grandparents, cousins and animal friends.  We felt the rain, sand and sun.  We felt thanks and celebration.  There was some nostalgia and new memories formed.  Miss Ce loved all the attention and stimuli.  It is good to travel, and over and over again we remember how good it is to be home!