It's raining. . . .

. . . again!

Tonight there is lightening and thunder.

The fields are getting to the point where we will be soon turning them in! Our pals from ol' Tejas are here and adapting quite well to the pandemonium that is our house. To go from a quiet house to a house full of kids must be a hard feat, but they seem to be surviving. Regardless, we are very glad they are here!

This weekend we were at the Common Ground Faire (hippy fest), up north. Now that we are much more agricultural than ever the faire took on a new meaning. Of the many things that seemed much more interesting than in years past, was the sheep dog demonstration. Now mind you, we are still really very new to the sheep ownership thing, but still fairly confident. At the end of the demo, the guys with the dogs challenged the audience (without dogs) to a herding contest. Amy volunteered us, and with another older couple we had to separate a herd of sheep and goats, and corral some running ducks.
While I am not one to blow my own horn (well, not all the time), we did pretty darn good. Our team of four was only four seconds. . . yes 4 seconds, slower than the two professionals with five, count them - 5, trained herding dogs. It was cool.
As soon as I can download the photos you can see the one stubborn goat that Amy decided to drag to where it belonged. . . .don't mess with mama!
Otherwise, we are looking forward to the coming (technically already here) season. Cool days, falling leaves, hot cider. . . yum, yum!

All the signs of autumn. . .

There was a wonderfully steady rain yesterday. It wasn't really supposed to come (depending on which weather person you listened to), but it lasted all day. Had the local fire department had any burning permits on hand, we would have happily burned all day. It will be nice to be rid of some of the tree debris that is floating around the pharm these days. Mr. Bruce (our neighbor) was more than happy to drop 6 or so big Blue Spruce trees and then cut them up. Now the business of reducing the limbs to ash falls on us. . . but the weather has been hot and dry.

The fur children have grown and found their niche here. For all of the losses this year (30 some odd chickens to those wily foxes, and most of our home crops to the ridiculous rains) they have been a happy spot. Amy has really taken to them, and they to her. They know her voice and respond very well. And so, they have become hers, and i won't get to eat any this year. . . .

We are draining the well today so that i can climb in it and adjust the fittings on the pipes. Aside from the air leak that has crept it's way into our water system, there is a sinister desire lurking in my mind to fall (or in this case climb) into a well.

All the signs of autumn are here - the leaves have begun to turn, the nights are getting cold, the turkeys are getting fat,and the deer are moving. At Pearson's Town we have thrown in a last round of root crops that we hope to harvest before the snow flies. We should also finish the first hoop house this week. . . or so i am hoping. Our week is cut into by my moonlighting at the coffee shop on campus (way too much fun) and a visit to Eliot Coleman's place on Thursday.

We are eager to welcome Laura and Mike to the abode. . . Amy is nesting again (she likes variety of people coming and going). They will join us for a bit while they look to grow roots in the area.

Stay tuned for autumn fun. . .

A minor miscommunication

With regards to the poem from this morning, and the reference to the tele. . . i was at work. Fear not loyal readers - there is no television in our house!!!! Gotta draw the line somewhere nowadays.

It's early

It's hard to be inspired by four walls

They neither talk nor sing

Their bland beige texture is both bland and beautiful

i can not fault them for their devotion to monotony

For it was not their doing.

 

The T.V. is on.

Images flickering every six seconds or so.

There is no volume which is just as well

i have had enough of people hawking their goods and wares

 

It's a sure sign that autumn is wandering in

i can taste the melancholy at the base of spine

The season is coming with it's chill and falling leaves

Poems and spiced cider.

 

The apples - they know something of life and eternity

Well beyond the leaves and dew.

The apples have no sheet rock beneath a textured wall paper

Insulated by meat, juice and olfactory stimulating flavor - they tempt the senses

Unlike the porcupine fiberglass that slumbers in the wall.

 

Even in death they do not die

Their pomace fills the late season air

And they melt to nitrogen to feed the soil

To feed the trees.

To feed the apples.

These four walls (seven if you include the alcove) do not inspire me.

i do not blame them for it was not their doing.

But the apples and the worms, the soils and the trees

The stinging wind burn of the autumns departure on my face

These do inspire.

--
Thephunnypharm.blogspot.com
pearsonstown.blogspot.com

The visitors. . .

It's September. . . did i miss summer???

Actually the last several weeks have been amazing. Pearson's Town is finally showing legitimate signs of viability, and that is great. The phunny pharm on the other hand. . . well, i have let the garden go to become an animal sanctuary (removed a ground hog today who made a burrow right into the bean patch). There are still beans, corn, tomatoes, peppers and egg plant. . . somewhere in there.

The chickens, turkeys and sheep are doing well. i will post some pics soon enough. In the meantime it is busy, busy time at Pearson's Town, and my time is a bit more consumed there. . .

Stay tuned for more.