When the economy hurts the local grower. . .

i love my wife. She is such a gracious and loving partner!! As we
learn to cope with the passing of our friends (they are moving not
dead) we have been talking about what the ol' homestead might look
like in the coming year.
The new chicken coop is all but done. The birds have moved in and are
looking a bit happier, minus the fact that they have to be 'cooped up'
(forgive the farm-pun) for a couple days so they know where to come
home to at night.
The turkey flock is officially established. The 'Big Five', as we
refer to them, have a date with destiny in middle November. They are
the big five because they were and emergency purchase after the great
raccoon raid of '08 liquidated our our flock in the course of just one
night. These 5 are giant white turkeys, a breed that has over the
years been raised so that they maximize growth and breast meat at the
cost of all things natural and beautiful. The largest of the birds
will have a dressed weight of about 40lbs, but is completely
incapable, because of it's massive size, of breeding naturally.
Likewise if grown (the way they are supposed to) they will eventually
grow to large for their legs to support their body weight. The good
news is that they are not genetically enhanced (how that is possible i
will never know) and we will have them butchered long before they
loose the ability to walk.
In the meantime our replacement flock arrived and are doing well. They
are heritage breed Narragansett and Standard Bronze birds, capable of
walking, breeding, and even flying!

So why does my wife love me?? Well, in spite of the dismal failure
that was the garden this year; overgrown with weeds, and completely
neglected after i allowed myself to become way too busy this year, she
has consented to tripling the size of the garden next year (we are
gonna need some more compost). There must be something in the water. .
.wait. . .i don't think that was water.
This summer reminded us that we have allowed ourselves to stretch
ourselves so thin that we have forgotten a lot of the things that are
so very important to us. One of which is providing a portion of our
food (and food for all of the wanderers that make their way by the
homestead).

So that's the news. . . for the moment. i apologize for the lack of
photos recently. i will try to get out this weekend. Honestly i am
getting in the habit of not having access to a computer at the house,
so all of my posts will be from my secret remote location. A land
where i wont be able to download photos. . . for a while at least.

Bush can keep his oil. . .

And the Texans can have THEIR black gold. i have found my own, and a new source of therapy. Yes, tack one more issue onto my list of disorders. i spent the morning turning over a concoction of wood shavings, grass trimmings, chicken poo, and old food scraps. i broke a little sweat and rediscovered some muscles that summer allowed me to forget. Yes it was like shoveling snow, only in the summer. . . and there was no snow. But what i found as i got toward the bottom of my stinky little pile was a hole lot of black gold of my own - moist, dark rich compost rich soil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It looked happy, smelled happy, felt happy. . . and no i didn't taste it. But i bet next years veggies will sing praises of it's yumminess.

Not since childhood do i remember being so overjoyed about dirt.

So here is to dirt, the stinky gross slimy things that make it up, and the otherwise really irritating little critters that creep and crawl and help the gross things metamorphosis into it.

It's never to early to start planning for next years garden

So somebody called me a "wanna-be hippie"!

And i suppose they are right, most of the time i am just a wanna be. .
. i can live with that.
James and i ventured with some friends to the Common Ground Faire (yes
i spell Faire with and 'E' - it's old fashion, but i like it that way.
Plus it beats: 'phaire'. So consider yourselves lucky!). In our
travels we were fortunate to run across some of our friends, who are
really more hippie than i am, and we missed some friends who were also
there.
It was a phenominal time. It was the most like being home that i have
felt in a long time. For a shin-dig in "Practically nowhere - Maine"
it was like being in a mini-Santa Cruz.
i think what i enjoyed the most was going to a faire that represented
so many different kinds of crafts and livelyhoods that were all so
tied to being close to earth. Farming, gardening, animal husbandry,
wood working, rock sculpting, metal work, leather tanning. There was
an openess about lifestyles (particularly eating habits), with a focus
on doing things in a way that is not harmful to the planet.

Coming home i lament that Amy was in Wisconsin. i am so inspired to
live more simply and sustainably! And did i mention composting
toilets. . .

Regaining my bearings

So the Hogan's have found a house in Lisbon that they are really keen
on. If the Lord wills it they will be moving into their very own house
here in a month or so. I am sad about it, but it is a good thing.
There are family obligations on both sides that make the transition to
single family life a necessity for the moment, but the conversation
continues.

In some ways it is a good thing. I have learned so very much in our
time together . . . one such lesson is my own need for solace. I have
also been really inspired to continue to reduce (our belongings), and
get away from non sustainable, non renewable goods and wares.

As the days usher in autumn I am, as usual, a bit reflective and more
pensive than normal anyway. We will have to see if we can't develop
good habits now while the mood and the season is right so that we are
prepared for the always busy summer season.

A poem from this night:

There is a quiet hollow in the back of my mind.
It is dark save for the lamp whose whispering light
Lights back and forth wandering through the gentle breeze
A chair padded and comfy grows up from the moss
And a maple stump serves the butler's part for to rest on it
My books or tea, whatever I may fancy should stay there a while.
Like wood sprites in twinkles flit back and forth
From dewy pool to jagged tree bark
Are whispers and hints of memories
And there I like to sit – in the mist
In the memories and murmurs
In the quiet and the dark and the lamplight
And listen.

A visit from Hannah

So here we are, the first hurricane of the season. . . for us northerners. Of course by the time these hurricane thingys reach us they are nothing more than rain storms.
i loooooooove our new roof. It's metal. If you are outside getting soaked, the raindrops hitting the roof sound like a chorus of crickets! Inside - it sounds like we are at camp. i love the sound of rain on a metal roof.

Back to listening and enjoying unaided by technology. . .

Swinging into autumn

The days of the falling leaves are creeping their way into the forefront of our minds. Heating oil season is coming the days are moderating the nights are cool. Mark - the fella across the asphalt river says that we have moved into drought season . . . noting that we haven't had rain in like a week. . . what a stretch considering the way this summer has gone.

The Hogan's have found a house that they are really key on in Lisbon. They really need to be closer to Lorna's Nana and there are just no properties that have opened up that would be big enough for all of us. The community conversation is still ongoing and we welcome all, but we are also thinking about our sanity as the winter months are in the shadows of our minds!

It will be a time of mixed sadness and blessings. It is hard to separate, especially with those that we love so deeply, but it will also allow us all to take stock in what we have learned about ourselves and to take stock in what we have and be thankful to the Lord!

One of the things that i love about living in New England is the seasons. Just when i think that the seasons are too short i have the overwhelming feeling of anticipation for the next season. Already as i lament the passing of summer (a season this year that mimicked far too closely the calls of spring), i am looking forward to apple picking, pumpkins, deer season, sitting in the house with a hot cup of tea reading to the kids. . . arts and crafts. Why is it that autumn is the artsy season???? Already Amy is finishing off her first quilt of the season. It's great. i love autumn!!!

That's enough for now . . . i have to go fight kids into bed!! My little "not-sleepers" are lurking about.