Gardening, Mowing and Waiting for Mom

~ Sophie and Abbie ~

Any time I'm gone from the house, even for twenty minutes, the two Jack's rush to the upstairs window, plant themselves there and wait, anxiously, for my return. I'm sure Sophie has separation anxiety; her human Pa had cancer and died and her human Ma had to give away all the animals. Sophie has been here seven months and she's still a bit anxious. Abbie, my heartbeat, just misses me and I miss her. Already.

~ Sophie howling ~

Sophie will howl, throwing her head back and letting loose with a vengeance. Abbie uses her energy to wait and that's to be expected, she's, at the minimum, 17 years. If I'm home, the dogs are with me, no matter if I'm mowing, gardening, tending to the horses, cattle or sheep. Today, I mowed and that takes me about four hours if I don't mow everything or five or six if I do mow everything. The dogs sit, watching, as I go 'round and 'round on the mower. They act bored to death -smile-.


After mowing, I did some computer work while waiting for the heat of the day to dissipate then planted fifteen or sixteen tomato plants, watered them and weeded part of the garden. I've got a good crop of weeds as well as some volunteer tomato and corn plants. My days aren't too exciting but that's okay. The steady work, the fresh air, sunshine, the animals are healing and I am being healed. God is doing His work.

~ Miss Emma ~

Miss Emma has disappeared and I figure a fox must have gotten her. A fox or an owl but, probably, not a coyote as they don't come too close to the house and barns. Miss Emma was a sweet girl who found a home here after I found her in the middle of the road. She was so little and starving; I figure her mother had been killed and she was a mite of a thing, waiting to die. Instead, she came home to Thistle Cove Farm and lived here happily. She is missed.


There's so much to tell you...we had a Cove Trail Ride and people came from all over to ride their horses for four hours and then have a picnic cookout. We've had a Bingo Benefit for our Cove VFD and that was hugely successful...thank God! All those tales will have to wait...but they are worth waiting for, especially if you like normal -smile-.


Blessings ~ power steering on the mower ~ volunteer plants ~ a wagon to carry water to the garden ~ friendly, four legged companions ~ volunteers ~ 

Farm Work

 ~ material for a table runner ~

WHEW! It's been a couple of days at Thistle Cove Farm. I suppose I should stay away from the media but then, dang it, "they'll" sneak up on me and I'll have no one to blame but myself. Like most of America, working America that is, generally, I'm too busy getting things done to pay much attention to how the politicos are reaming me. However, the past few days have found me glued to the radio trying to figure out if those blooming ejits are actually going to pass the debacle they are calling "health care reform". Ha! It all makes me want to run, screaming, for sanctuary.


Oh dear. I seem to be beginning again...on another rant. Hmmmm. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

Okay. I'll tell you about farm work. Town errands took up a portion of the morning and when we returned home, I worked in the studio. I've been dyeing yarn and doing a series of felted tea cozies, cotton table runners, quilts and other textiles but today took time out to iron some antique vintage aprons. Our county library is having an exhibit, in conjunction with VA Minds Wide Open and asked if I had some things to loan. They were especially interested in aprons and I've got a few dozen old aprons that were clean but needed ironing. I love to iron, seriously! it's such pleasurable work, ironing those old aprons and preparing them to be hung in our local library. The librarian also wanted other crafts so I'll take some hand spun yarn, roving, felted tea cozies and other things and show photos when the exhibit is completed.

I was just finishing ironing the last apron when the dogs began barking. Red and Daniel came to help get the animals ready for spring. Around here that means de-worming horses and sheep, vaccinating and trimming feet. I wasn't ready to vaccinate, wasn't aware the fellers were coming tonight so we just de-wormed and trimmed a couple of horses feet. I went to call in all the animals as they don't come for anyone but me. It's a hoot! I go to the fence and begin calling, "Here Sheep! Sheepie, sheepie, sheepie; heeeerrreee sheep!" As fast as their little legs can carry their fat little bodies, they came bouncing over the meadow thinking they were in for a treat. Usually corn but tonight not. I like keeping everyone healthy and well as it's a lot less expensive and a lot less work than getting them well.

  ~ de-worming sheep ~

These photos are blurry because I didn't use flash plus it was dusk and in a stall in the stable. There's one lone light bulb, shared between two stalls, and that's the entire illumination. Camera flash, indeed any flash, tends to spook the animals and it's already a, somewhat, fragile, situation. Red and Daniel have been farmers a combined total number of years than I've been alive and still do this type work seven days a week. I used to do this work but Dave has decided he'd rather I not put myself in situations where I could get injured. Bless him! So, I do the donkey work - call in the animals from the far pastures, open and close gates, run for supplies, hand off supplies, etc. And take pictures. Around here, everyone is resigned used to me taking photos; I don't even ask anymore. It's so much easier to de-worm sheep in close quarters. There's not much room to move around and that means the sheep are less active and less likely to take out a human's knee. Generally, we crowd them into a small stall, shove the de-wormer down their throat, mark their forehead and, when the crowd is finished, all are turned loose.

I like for everyone to be de-wormed prior to Sheep Shearing Day; it gives the meds time to work and the fleeces time to be cleaned by Mother Nature. I like clean pastures, thus clean fleeces, but I've had to feed so much hay this winter, I'm concerned the sheep fleeces might have a little vegetative matter in them. If they do, I won't charge as much money as I prefer selling a superior product.

 ~ Sadie and Carly, going eye to eye ~

  ~ Sam, watching as sheep are turned out  ~

 ~ Red, waiting for horses ~

 ~ Daniel and horses moving quickly ~

 

 ~ Abigail, looking old, cold and tired ~

 ~ Daniel, trimming Peach's hoof ~

It was a long, hard job but eventually all the sheep were de-wormed, all the horses were de-wormed and two had their feet trimmed. It's late, the dogs are all sleeping in various piles around the room, the cats are curled into tight little balls and I'm ready for sleep myself.

Spring. The beginning of work on the farm; early mornings and late nights but, hopefully a lot to show for the efforts. May it always be so.

Blessings ~ animals, ready for spring ~ Red and Daniel ~ no injuries ~ enough meds to handle everyone ~ studio work ~ aprons ~ 

Thanks for visiting Thistle Cove Farm,
Sandra

It's Snowing!

~Driveway entrance ~ 

It's not our first snowfall but it's the most snow we've had this season and it's beeyouutifull!

If you're looking for my giveaway in conjunction with Season of Giving by Sew Mama Sew! it's here; you better HURRY, it's over tomorrow.

Christina Rossetti, one of my favorite poets, was born on December 5, 1830, wrote a poem that was set to music and has become my favorite Christmas carol, In The Bleak Midwinter. Yes, perhaps it does sound a bit...well...bleak but it's not. It's truly one of the most intense pieces of poetry I've ever read and it always, but always, speaks to my heart. Celtic Women do it beautifully as does Gloucester Cathedral Choir.

In the bleak midwinter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter,

Long ago.

 

Our God, heaven cannot hold him,

Nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When he comes to reign;

In the bleak midwinter

A stable place sufficed

The Lord God incarnate,

Jesus Christ.

 

Enough for him, whom Cherubim

Worship night and day

A breast full of milk

And a manger full of hay.

Enough for him, whom angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

which adore.

 

Angels and archangels

May have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim

Thronged the air;

But his mother only,

In her maiden bliss,

Worshipped the Beloved

With a kiss.

 

What can I give him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb,

If I were a wise man

I would do my part,

Yet what I can I give Him —

Give my heart

Hound of Heaven, by Francis Thompson, is the same in intensity; it's quite strong and vivid. It's a long poem, some 180 plus lines and begins:

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
  I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
  Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
                             Up vistaed hopes I sped;
                              And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
                              But with unhurrying chase,
                              And unperturbed pace,
                            Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
                              They beat--and a Voice beat
                              More instant than the Feet--
                             "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."

 It's a fabulous piece of literature and well worth the read, so, settle yourself down and  go to Hound of Heaven to read in its entirety.


The snowstorm brought us about six inches with a few more expected tonight. I've been busy, straightening house, de-cluttering, burning stuff, throwing stuff away, giving stuff away, etc. It's been great using the burn barrel; the snow keeps the fire from sparking and when one side gets cold, turn around! Plus, the Ranger has been used as a shelter when the cold became too much to bear.

~ Abigail, in her Christmas sweater, and Sadie, in hot pink ~

 Abigail had to be coaxed out of the house; she despises wearing a sweater and gives me the Evil Eye. When I put it on her, she stands there and glares at me then sits down and sulks. Sadie is happy to wear her sweater and doesn't much care if she looks like a tart; just as long as she's warm!

~ Sadie, crouching in attack position, waiting to pounce on Sam ~

Sadie is a Rhodesian Ridgeback, a breed originating in South Africa and bred to hunt lions, guard the farm and herd cattle. Sadie has a large hunt instinct and is Always Ready to pounce on Sam Spade. He's always willing to oblige being pounced upon and will return insult for injury or vice versa. Thank God they have never hurt each other too badly; just the odd bruise or nip here and there.

After the pounce, all is joy again and the BFF's happily continue their march.

~ Breakout! ~

It seems I forgot and left a sheep gate open yesterday and this morning the sheep were in the barn lot. Fortunately, the grass is still good in the barn lot and they weren't interested in leaving the farm and entering the road. When they saw us coming down the driveway, most of them headed back into the barn and back through the open gate. They knew I'd throw hay to them on the other side of the fence and they were Ready to eat!

Recently, I've listed to two preaches who, apparently knowing nothing, or not much, about sheep, didn't hesitate to give their opinions regarding sheep. Some of the comments include, "dumb, stupid, not a brain in their head, easily led" and you get the picture.

Gentlemen, while I respect you as preachers and men of God, you really should learn something, first hand, about sheep and not rely on what you've been told. I can only respond regarding my sheep and my experience with my sheep and if you'd like to come and shepherd for a week or two, consider this your invitation.

Are sheep easily led? Not hardly. They will, however, easily follow IF they deem you worthy and, more importantly, if you have f-o-o-d. Are they stupid? Not really. They know where the good grass is located, remember all the places at which they may drink delicious water AND...the most important point...have trained ME to take care of THEM!

It is, sadly, true they lack a good defense. Unless, of course, you consider a sturdy head butt as not much of anything. Frankly, a sheep can take out a human and do severe damage, including death. At the least, a knee separated from its moorings can do lasting damage and enormous pain. But, on the mountain, a good guard dog is worth his, or her, weight in gold.

I do know those Bible verse about sheep and it's true we humans are, somewhat, like sheep. We want the easy life, to have hay thrown at us, to eat and sleep at will, to chew our cud while thinking our deep thoughts, to require the world revolve around us as opposed to vice versa. Yes, sheep do act like they believe, "It's all about US". How Very Human! So, perhaps that should be, "Sheep are like we humans." Now, Preacher Man, there's a topic you could sink your teeth into!

 Until next time,

Blessings ~ sheep back in their pasture ~ dogs who are good helpers ~ Christmas carols ~ sheep ~ Christina Rossetti ~ Francis Thompson ~
 

Kissed by Frost

~ the last of the cosmos, kissed by frost ~

Autumn is my favorite time of year, although, it's also the most difficult to make an adjustment to the changes in light and time. I know DST doesn't change until November 1, Sunday, 2 a.m. but the already shortened days confuse my cicadian rhythms and both body and mind suffer. Most folks I know who tend to land and/or animals are acclimated to the natural rhythms of the earth, sun and moon. We tend to sleep when it's dark; work when it's light and when those rhythms, cicadian rhythms, are disrupted, I tend to do stupid things. As soon as we turn the clocks back, this Sunday, those stupid things are sure to escalate. Unfortunately.

~ sheep weather! ~

 For example, this morning I hurried through chores so I could rush to town and take Zumba and  yoga. No problem there except the yoga instructor has family illness so that class was canceled and I came home to clean. Again, no problem except I detoured and ended up cleaning the space where we keep linens and also did a boat load of laundry. I hate going into the winter with drapes and curtains that are dusty but with more than thirty windows, most sized nine feet by three feet but some larger, in this farmhouse, that chore takes the better part of a week...and that's if I keep at it like there's a paycheck at the end.

~ Frosted Zinnia ~

At 5:00 I stopped everything, took a shower and got ready to head to town to see Justin Lookadoo. I've really been looking forward to hearing him; he comes highly recommended and some kind person or persons, unknown to me, paid to have him come to Tazewell and speak. When I arrived at the fairground the parking lot was empty, not a good sign. Long story, short: he's scheduled for next Wednesday, November 4th. Oh well. I head home and then remember...something else was scheduled for tonight and I missed that too.

~ Frosted, feathery cosmos ~

~ Frosted sedum ~

Off and on, these past couple/few weeks have been just like that...a day late and a dollar short. It's always this way in Autumn; it's always me playing catch up, body trying to adjust to the shortened day light, chasing the sun and getting my D's, vitamins, that is. I'm sleeping like it's a sickness and still can't manage to get caught up; anyone else having these problems?

~ Frost on the gate ~

We've had a couple of hard frosts and they've been beautiful! An occupational hazard of working outdoors is a frosted metal gate; there's no better way to lose some skin than to grab hold of a frozen metal gate. Remember the scene from The Christmas Story when the boy licked the street lamp? YEEWOUCH! I felt his pain; still do for that matter.

~ Maple, in front yard ~

One of the lovely things about "silence" is there's room enough to hear things that, otherwise, go unnoticed. Things like leaves falling through the branches of the maple tree. There was no wind, it was just Autumn and time for the leaves to fall. They made a rustling noise, reminding me of an old man, sitting beside the fire, work boots to the side, sighing the sighs of someone who has accomplished something that day. Something worthwhile, something to put food on the table or in the manger. Those falling leaves reminded me of someone who has done what they could to take care of what they should; to prepare for winter and the deep, silent sleep. They reminded me of my Granddaddy Bennett and how he would sit beside the fire, work boots to the side, toes wiggling in dirty socks, hand made wooden chair tilted against the wall, waiting to be called for supper.

He died when I was six but I remember him well. He was a giant, in my eyes then and now, as I remember him. He wasn't a big man; I'm probably about his size but he was a man's man and one of the richest men in West Virginia owes his start to Granddaddy and Granddaddy's hard saved money. He was that kind of man; always willing to lend a hand or a dollar, always seeing to it that folks ate or had a roof over their head or blankets on their bed. He was one of the biggest men I'll ever know and to make it even better, he was a man after God's own heart.

~ Across the road, a corn field ~

October is Harvest Moon and this month is the last possible time to gather in food for man and beast. Gardens are limping along with the occasional winter squash, the Granny Smith apple tree still has a few apples clinging to the upper branches and the corn silage has been cut. Corn silage is high in protein and easy to digest; it has a nice, yeasty smell like corn mash...now, how could I possibly know that, you wonder??? Dave thinks it stinks but I like to smell it and the cattle love eating it. The field across the house was cut last week, much to the dismay of the black bear living in the field. It was easy pickings for him, for a while, but now he's had to go back to the mountain to eat and prepare for his winter sleep.

~ Cutting corn for silage ~

Farming is risky business and ranks right up there with any other dangerous job. I've known men to be caught in farm equipment and the fortunate ones are walking around, perhaps without an arm, but they are walking around. Driving farm equipment takes skill and most men started driving when they were old enough to see over the steering wheel, with or without a stack of books under their bottoms, and with or without, a stick to poke the gas or brake pedals.

About half the time the tractor driver is looking forward, gauging the row, and about half the time, he's looking backwards to make sure the equipment is in alignment with the corn rows.

~ corn silage ~

This field took three days to cut and that was with two trucks working full time to catch, hold and carry the silage to a nearby field for storage. In the photo to the right you can see the little red volunteer fire house in the distant left and, to the distant right, the old Cove elementary school, now Community Center and where the school shots were filmed for the movie, Lassie: Best Friends Are Forever. If you've seen the video cover, that's Thistle Cove Farm in the distant background behind the boy and Lassie, although there's absolutely NO credit given to anything or anyone in Tazewell County. Perhaps you remember Clinton Bell, my shearer? He and Bullet, his Border Collie, were the behind the scenes stars because they worked the sheep. Lassie is a looker, I'll give him that...yes, Lassie is a HE, always has been...but the boy is all looks and no brains.

Wait. That's not exactly true. Lassie can act but he's not the kinda working man that gets his hands...er, paws dirty. Lassie let ole Bullet do the heavy lifting while Lassie did the styling and profiling for the camera and kiddies. Likewise, Clinton did the heavy lifting as he directed ole Bullet when the sheep were rounded up, moved, etc.

We bought this farm the year after the movie was made and people were still tiptoeing into the yard, peering in the windows. I'm not quite sure what they expected to see: Lassie seated at the table, dish of vittles in front of him...? Or, Lassie in the bed, snug as a bug in a rug...? Or, one of us in our altogethers as we stepped out of the shower...? The mind reels!

 Anyway, back to the corn silage. Cattle love it, it's inexpensive... meaning it doesn't have to be purchased like grain but it does cost in labor, equipment and fuel, and it's high in protein. But, you know most of that if you've been paying attention -smile-.

~ Someone's dream house, once upon a time ~

 This house sits behind the corn field and is where quite a few folks have set up housekeeping in days gone past. Now, it's a shadow of its former self, slowly going the way of all flesh and, probably, as full of snakes as a Christmas goose is full of...er... you know. Still and all, it's a purty sight and I love to sit and make up stories about the folks that once lived there.

Remember the old Bill Monroe song, "Gotta Travel On"? It goes

"Done laid around, done stayed around this old town too long
Summers almost gone, winters coming on..."

He's right, summer has gone and autumn is close behind; winter is hurrying right along and soon it will be time for flannel sheets. It's almost too cold to go to the barn in my nightgown, boots flopping on bare feet, scarf wrapped 'round my head and too large jacket on my back. The dogs and I can see our breath in the mornings, the sheep and horses have little beards of frost and the mist rises off the water trough as warmer mountain river meets colder mountain air.

 ~ mist rising off water trough as frost glistens on the ground ~

It's a great time here on the farm even if I'm struggling to keep up; struggling to stay awake. There's never enough time to do all that needs doing on the farm but now it's especially difficult. Even so, there's no place on God's beautiful earth I'd rather be than here, home at Thistle Cove Farm.

Until next time,

Blessings ~ this piece of heaven on earth ~ corn silage ~ work to keep us busy and strong ~ frost ~ the last of the flowers ~ Autumn ~

Life at Thistle Cove Farm

~ Zinnia, one of God's happy flowers ~

I've been absent for a few days so this entry will be long, a catch-up post, if you will. I'm in need of a seated rest period and updating my blog is one guaranteed way to grab some chair rest.

It seems like the more I get done, the more there is to do. Anyone out there experiencing the same? I'm sure most of you. There have been some fabulous blessings, orchestrated as only God can do; specifically I'm thinking of Kathy's family. It's been a frustrating, anxious few months for her i-friends and many angst filled years for her family. So many others are in need of prayer - Suzy as she leaves her home and moves to another state to tends to her aged Uncle's needs. Her uncle's bank in Nevada failed last week...the first of many, if the signs are to be correctly read...and he, rightfully so, is panicked. Uncle is a new, very new, Christian in his mid 80's. Sharon's aunt has advanced cancer as well as Ahzheimer's and their family is caught up in care and concern. Betty, my cousin, is caring for her step-father in his last days. Betty's mother, my mother's sister, passed away last November, and her step-father has Alzheimer's. These but a few and so many people needing prayer, needing the whisper of God's voice in their ear.

I have a journal where I keep names of folks who have requested prayer and it seems the list grows at a much faster rate than it used to grow. One of my favorite hymns is "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" and one of my favorite lines of that hymn is "take it to the Lord in prayer". Irish born author, Joseph Scriven, was to be married but on the eve of his marriage, his betrothed drowned. Grief stricken, he re-located to Canada where he devoted himself to serving the poor but if one could afford his services, he would not work for them. Some years after moving to Canada and serving the poor, he also died in an accidental drowning.

In three short verses he testify's to the promises, peace, grace and mercy of Christ. Perhaps most of all, the peace.

"What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sings and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer

Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged; Take it to the Lord in prayer!
Can we find a friend so faithful, who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness. Take it to the Lord in prayer!

Are we weak and heavy laden, Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Saviour, still our Refuge; Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? Take it to the Lord in prayer.
In His arms He'll take and shield thee; Thou wilt find a solace there."

I don't listen much to popular music save Celtic, jazz, blues and female artists who are gifted song writers. Other than the aforementioned music, I listen to hymns, Gospel...but not Southern Gospel as I find it too too...if you know what I'm saying not very well -smile- and I listen to preaching. Also, I listen to audio books and enjoy them a lot as well. When I say I listen, in the main, to preaching and religious music what I'm really saying is I'm a pretty poor representative of Christ. If I don't fill my head with the Good Stuff then the bad stuff tends to surface...more than it already does, I'm sorry to say. I'm not one of those "good people" people talk about. I need to fill my head with hymns, preaching, the whisper of God on the wind or in the lowing of the cattle, bird song, puppies and dogs, cats and kittens, horses and, in general, nature as served up by God. Yes, I do listen to popular music when I take Zumba but the words just aren't as important as me as being busy trying not to stumble and die -smile-. After I take a Zumba class, yoga class is next and the instructor plays Celtic Women, Enya and the like so my head is filled with goodness when I leave the YMCA.

I've never understood folks who say, "I'm bored"; I think it shows a lack of imagination on their part. Thanks to Mama and Daddy, we were taught to entertain ourselves and if we couldn't entertain ourselves, there were always chores to be done. Time was not to be wasted on "nothingness" as "idle hands were the devil's plaything" as Mama always said. I still believe it although now I realize that restful periods aren't the same as idle hands. I've also learned to "keep the Sabbath" apart from the rest of the week. Keeping the Sabbath holy is a mini-vacation, a gift from God at the end/beginning of the week that restores, renews, refreshes and lets me end one week and enter the next with a calmness that gives reflection on what has passed and focus on what is to come.

~ Sadie, looking out of the dining room window. ~

We've been working on the house, getting that portion readied that was destroyed by the flood damage December past. I'm hopeful...always hopeful...we'll be finished Soon. The dining room walls have been replaced, the floor has been refinished and we still have to hang a ceiling fan and clean before moving furniture into this room. The parlor is crammed almost to the ceiling with dining room furniture and "stuff" so neither room can be used for the time being.~ The dining room had to be re-painted and floors re-finished. ~

The front porch is filled with tools that are going to be moved off the table today so we can go back to eating on the porch. What is it with construction folks? They just lay their stuff down any ole place, never considering if it's in my way and this has been going on for a couple of months now. We only get to use the front porch in nice weather and frost is little more than two weeks hence; time is a-wasting for front porch sittin' and eatin'!

~ Mama Cat ~

Mama Cat, four weeks ago today, had four kittens in the bottom of a fifty gallon barrel and it's going to be hard getting them out of that barrel! I want to catch some of the feral barn cats and relocate them to the "animal shelter" so the tame kittens and Mama Cat can live in the barn. On a farm, it's necessary to have cats to help keep down the rats and mice and it's best if those cats are tame. Much easier to catch and vaccinate, etc. Mama Cat isn't the prettiest cat but she does have one of the best personalities I've ever seen in a cat. No matter what life has thrown at her, she responds by being placid, quiet, accepting and looking for the good. I can learn from her. A lot.

~ Mama Cat's four kittens at the bottom of a fifty gallon barrel! ~

~ A wagon load, 363 bales of lovely, dry hay! ~

~ Beautiful, dry hay, stored in our ancient barn ~

We cut, raked, baled and stored hay this week...363 square bales of alfalfa clover timothy mix and six round bales of same. Thank You, God...it's dry from start to finish and animals now have plenty of hay for this winter. I've even some to sell!

I've nattered on with nary a word about puppies and dogs; will remedy that, hopefully, by Saturday.

Until then...

Blessings ~ dry hay, winter fodder for the animals ~ Mama Cat and her four week old kittens ~ house restoration ~ beloved hymns ~ prayer, people needing prayer and people praying ~ a Sabbath, day of rest, coming up ~

Green Corn Moon, August

~ Thistle, namesake of Thistle Cove Farm ~

Sometimes we manage to miss a thistle plant, or dozen, but they are such beautiful flowers. I've read a weed is a flower one doesn't want and while I would like to have a small garden of thistles, that's nigh impossible as the stinkin' things don't know their place and want to take over the world not to mention this small farm!

We have a few pieces of Scottish Buchan Thistle Pottery and a lovely tea service as well. I bought the tea service at a thrift store, way back in 1981, far before I'd met Dave and we'd made our decision to marry, move to a farm and name it Thistle Cove Farm. Over the years, we've been given a few pieces of this pottery and I'd love to have an entire set. We've never bought a set of dishes, relying instead on the bits and pieces we each brought to our marriage as well as what Dave's mother brought when she moved in with us in 2000.

~ Some mornings I put the puppies on the back porch to eat their breakfast. ~

Abbie and Gracie don't receive as much food as the puppies and disagreemets tend to break out when Abbie and Gracie finish far, far sooner than the puppies. It's easier to put puppies on the back porch and keep the older dogs inside.

~ Sadie Lady and Sam Spade are concentrating on one dish while the kittens have dipped into the other dish. ~

~ Sadie Lady and Sam Spade watch, in amazement, as the kittens move in to claim both food dishes. ~

~ Grace, our Australian Shepherd x Corgi, ~

inside in the kitchen, looks beguilingly at me; she's asking for either treats of the eating kind or the petting kind. She'd rather eat but will settle for love -smile-. She's an old girl, somewhere around fourteen or older but was a rescue from the side of the road so her true age is known only to God. She's been a great companion and will still, on days when she's feeling particularly good, go to the barn for early morning chores. Usually, she's by the hearth having a snooze, waiting for the next meal.

~ Green Corn Moon ~

According to the Farmer's Almanac, August is the Full Sturgeon moon because of the fishing tribes of the Great Lakes. Some tribes called it the Full Red Moon for the reddish cast through a sultry haze while others called it the Green Corn or Grain Moon. As we're miles and miles from the Great Lakes and, according to my photo there's no reddish cast, it will be known as the Green Corn Moon.

~ Dry Run Creek ~

Dry Run Creek, for this time of year, has an amazing quantity of water. It's usually lower than this and in some August months, it dries up completely. It's about two miles, perhaps a bit further, from Thistle Cove Farm and is a lovely body of water with great Horny Head fishing in the winter and spring months.

~ White Tail Deer ~

This white tailed buck came too close for comfort to my car when I was heading out of the valley. I slammed on brakes, he scampered to the side of the road and then bounded away. In this photo, it's difficult to see but his antlers had new velvet; he is a beauty!

~ Banana walnut bread cooling on the porch railing. ~

~ Miss Emma is turning into a Fine Lap Kitty or, in this case, a Fine Shoulder Kitty. ~

She's had to stay inside, due to her cold, but she makes up for lack of kitten playmate time by following me around and using me as her play pretty. In this, unusually, quiet, pensive moment she was resting on my shoulder as I listened to preaching on the radio. As I type this, she's now in my lap cleaning her face.

~ Sam Spade and Sadie Lady romping on the sofa until Miss Kitty caught their attention. ~

Aunt Esther has always said, "for every fog in August, there's a snow in winter" and every morning, thus far, we've had fog. By my count that means we're expecting a bare minimum of seven snows this winter.

~ After the fog burns off, we're left with a beautiful sunrise. ~

You just can see the sheep on the hillside. This is where they, usually, spend the night although some nights they'll come into the little lot just this side of the barns. I've never quite figured out how they choose where they will sleep and they've kept it a secret all these years.

The day after a festival is always a physical let down. It takes so much energy to, properly, work a festival, imo, and all that energy has to come from the store room. Today is being spent unloading the car, putzing around in the studio, cleaning the kitchen and, perhaps, going to Joann Fabrics just for a little zero time. When I work a festival, it's show biz. By that I mean, people come to a festival to forget their troubles, have a good time, enjoy ??? -smile- festival food, look at the goodies, listen to fine music, see and be seen. They do not want to encounter someone with a surly attitude, listen to someone gripe, watch an altercation or, in any other way, have a negative experience. I enjoy people when it's my choice -smile- and try and let their few moments with me be a positive experience, one to remember fondly, have a chuckle or laugh, be thankful they met me.

~ James Campbell is a local author who writes of the old stories and ways he's been told all his life. ~

It's his way of passing along heritage, history and culture and he not only does a fine job as an author, he's a really nice gentleman as well. He has a great smile, a ready laugh and is just as quick to voice his opinion about the injustices of the world and our community. His wife, Rachel, just retired after working at Southern States for forty-three!!! years! Their son, Jim, is running for Board of Supervisor in Tazewell County and we'd be blessed to have him win. If I lived in his District, he'd certainly receive my vote.

~ The woman on the right is the jewelry maker and her friend came to help. ~

They were both great fun, all day, and I enjoyed their company even though, just now, I can't remember their names. The Appalachian Arts Center had two booths at the Highlands Festival and folks could sign up for different days to sell their wares. That's how these three, Barbara, a talented oil painter from Tannersville, and I, came to be at the Highlands Festival this year and we all had a Great Time!

~ Green Corn ~

On the way home, via Wardell Road, I stop at what used to be Half Mile Tree and took this photo. Half Mile Tree has gone the way of all flesh and is no longer although the scenery is as beautiful as ever. The rows of green corn stretch in undulating waves while Morris Knob stands sentry in the background left. No matter who has come before nor who comes after, this time now is my time to live in and appreciate the Cove. A blessing I don't deserve but deeply appreciate; Thank You, God.

~ When I got home, leftover soup was my supper. ~

I made this soup two nights ago and it was good then but it was delicious last night. It seems soup has to set up a while before the flavors meld and deepen into a richness redolent more as a whole than separately.

While a sweet onion or two was sizzling away in the deep iron skillet, I peeled and quartered several ripe tomatoes, opened a can of garbanzo beans and a can of artichoke hearts, thawed a container of home made chicken stock. When the onions were ready, I added all the other ingredients, some kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper and simmered the whole until heated through. I served over home made herb croutons and then topped with Parmesan cheese and served with Rosemary Garlic Olive Oil toasted bread. My Oh My, was it Ever Good but it was Even Better last night! As Julia would have said, "Bon Appetit!" but around here we say the blessing -smile-.

Blessings ~ scenery ~ the Cove ~ festivals ~ folks at festivals ~ August fogs ~ winter snows ~ old friends ~ new friends ~ home made soup, bread, croutons ~ another full moon ~