Sabbath Keeping

"It was You who set all the boundaries of the earth;

You made both summer and winter."

~ Psalm 74:17 ~

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
  Man never is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
  Rests and expatiates in a life to come."
~ Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man, Epistle 1, 1722 ~

"She stood in the storm 

and when the wind did not blow her way,

she adjusted her sails."

~ Elizabeth Edwards ~ 

"Live in the sunshine

Swim the sea

Drink the wild air."

~ Emerson ~

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart,
and can sing it back to you when you've forgotten the words." ~ unknown ~

"Let us love winter for it is the spring of genius." ~ Pietro Aretino ~

"No winter lasts forever,

no springs skips its turn."

~ Hal Borland ~

"One kind word warms three winter months." ~ proverb ~

"Dear Winter:

I'm breaking up with you.

It's time to see other seasons."

"What a severe yet master artist old Winter is...
No longer the canvas and the pigments,
but the marble and the chisel."
~ John Burroughs, The Snow-Walkers, 1866 ~

"Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope;

winter alone reminds us of the human condition."

~ Mignon McLaughlin ~ 

"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories."

~ An Affair to Remember ~

"let there be a cottage... a real cottage... a white cottage, embowered with flowering shrubs, so chosen as to unfold a succession of flowers upon the walls, and clustering round the windows through all the months of spring, summer, and autumn - beginning, in fact, with May roses, and ending with jasmine. Let it, however, not be spring, nor summer, nor autumn - but winter, in his sternest shape. This is a most important point in the science of happiness. And I am surprised to see people overlook it, and think it matter of congratulation that winter is going; or, if coming, if not like to be a severe one. On the contrary, I put up a petition annually, for as much snow, hail, frost, or storm, of one kind or other, as the skies can possibly afford us. Surely every body is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a winter fire-side: candles at four o'clock, warm hearth-rugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies on the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audible without..."
~ Thomas De Quincey ~

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again."
~ Lewis Carroll ~

"My old grandmother always used to say, Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever." ~ George R. R. Martin ~

"A lot of people like snow.

I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water."

~ Carl Reiner ~ 

"The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter."
~ Benjamin Alire Saenz ~

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show." ~ Andrew Wyeth ~

"Drive my dead thoughts over the universe

Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!

  And, by the incantation of this verse,

Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth

Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!

  Be through my lips to unawakened earth

  The trumpet of a prophecy! O, wind,

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?"

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley ~ 

"Pray that your flight will not take place in winter

or on the Sabbath."

~ Matthew 24:20 ~

Prayer Keeping ~ Noreen ~ Grace ~ Donna ~ GJ & Bill ~ Quinn ~ Sandra ~

Appalachian Winter

~ Pounding Mill Road ~

It’s easy to love Appalachia, especially in Spring's hopefulness, Summer's drowsiness and, perhaps most of all, Autumn. All year long, I relish listening to YoYo Ma  and Edgar Meyer join Mark O'Conner in O'Conner's breathlessly beautiful Appalachian Waltz. To love Appalachia in winter, however, requires a different skill set and forced concentration of appreciation for bare trees, stripped of color-full beauty, standing in honest nakedness, outlined against a sullen gray sky.

~ walnut tree ~

Drifts of snow on the upper mountain reaches ring our valley in every direction. On mountain sides snow lays in stark relief, a smattering of dandruff against bare trees, a reminder of old folks with thinning hair. The wind moves at a pace strong enough to make the sugar maple branches dance and the still needing to be cut butterfly bush scrapes against the window.

~ Maiden Spring ~

Kitten, so called because he still hasn’t revealed his name, perches on the cat castle, batting paw against window, trying to catch branch and leaves, the skeetch of branch uneasy in his ears.

~ Kitten ~

On Saturday, once again the clothes were left on the line overnight as that day provided too full of work to finish. On Sunday I'm guessing the more righteous nattered amongst  themselves in indignent disapproval at my blatant, to them anyway, disregard of the Sabbath. They forget Sabbath was made for man and not man for Sabbath and because my house and farm sit on a knoll, it’s easy to see when I’m breaking Pharaciacal law. It’s not so easy for others as their enclaves are off the road with house and barns situated so activites are hidden from view.

Here, clothes dance saucily on the line, bras and bloomers flinging against shirts and jeans as night gown arms reach to hug the sky. Since Dave’s death, my list of “sins” grows, almost daily, and I’ve been known to both wash clothes and hang them out on Sunday.  Mercy! A photo, taken on a frigid, winter’s day show clothes frozen solid - jeans and flannel nightgown tossed about by a hard wind and, should you get too close, would exchange severe pain for such boldness.

~ clothes, frozen stiff ~

Appalachia in winter isn’t for the faint of heart and is the season of single, even minus, double digits, harsh winds, spitting sky and short, yet somehow long, days without sunshine.  In January 1996 Dave and I saw the outside thermometer at minus 35 degrees...that's below zero! This year, in February, it rested at minus 20 degrees and God alone knows what's in store these next few months.

Winter is also the season of crystal clear skies and brilliant stars splitting the darkness, the Milky Way flung in a diamond path stretching into eternity, a quarter moon pulling aside heaven's drapery and air so cold it hurts to breath. Such gifts are honest and raw in their tender beauty and tears, frozen, stay on my cheeks.

                God constantly overwhelms me with His gifts.

No matter the weather, outside chores still have to be done and by the time I’m bundled up, the Michelin Tire Man pales in comparison. Silk long johns, fleece lined jeans or sweat pants, long sleeve tee shirt, wool sweater or fleece jacket, Dave’s old ski coat (patched with duck tape), balaclava, brimmed hat, wool socks and water proof boots complete the not so lovely “ensamb”.

'Tis a vision to behold, I promise.

On Saturday past, Gina, a neighbor, brought me a gallon of anti-freeze and, bless her!, stayed to help load the Polaris Ranger with wood. It was a full day before she arrived ---

- treats for dogs and house cats,
-devotions and coffee for me,
-Lightly, the mare and barn cats fed,
-hay, thrown down from the loft,
-checked vehicles fluids, filled with life saving necessities,
-tire pressure checked,
-topped off gas tanks,
de-icer put in water tank,
-three loads of laundry washed and hung on the line and,
-using the tractor, I set out two 5'x5' round bales of hay for my horses. At day's end, I delivered a round bale of hay to Gina and Steve who live 2.5 miles down the asphalt, turned into gravel, road and it was C.O.L.D. by the time I'd delivered the hay and still had that same 2.5 miles to drive home. My tractor doesn't have a cab or canopy and, once the sun goes down, even wool garments are "challenged" by the low temps. Gina followed me to and from her house; safety first, doncha know?, and a mug of hot tea quickly brought warmth to my innards.

All jobs are important but one of the most important is the de-icer. Using three strands of bailer twine, I plait a rope to keep the de-icer stationed in the center of the water tank. The twine is fed through the fence to plug in the de-icer which keeps the water from freezing and, as importantly, it keeps the water at a "drinkable" temperature, ensuring the horses will continue to drink even as outside temps plummet. All animals, even humans, are predominately water and we have to replenish our water in order to keep our bodies functioning,  healthy and well.

Even so, some mornings I still find frozen water that needs to be chopped and removed so the horses have access. Perhaps I should think about installing two de-icers but shudder at the electric bill.

In looking up the web address for my Ranger I found...be still my heart! Polaris has brought back the Indian motorcycle!!! (Is that too many exclamation points? No, I don't think so either.) The Indian is an old time, and, for a while, the only American made motorcycle with beautiful lines, gorgeous colors and I want one!  but only if it comes with a side car -grin-. It's not common knowledge that in my wild and frantic youth, I used to own, and ride, a Honda 350 Super Eagle motorcycle. Oh the stories I won't tell...

Surprised?

Inside, wood flames flicker against a stove window that needs cleaning but will wait until end of week when it's warmer and I can clean ashes out as well. It's only been a few days and the wood supply is dwindling at a rapid rate so I fill the wood stove then bank it so it "simmers" and the wood burns more slowly. Usually. Unless there's a stiff wind, like today, the wind sucks both oxygen and heat from the stove and house. It's a three-layer day today inside...cami, long sleeve tee shirt and sweater along with wool socks and slippers but after the Ranger is unloaded of wood supply. That's also because I like a cool house and refuse to live in a hot house; anyway, a cooler house is healthier for all of us.

Appalachia, in all seasons, is beautiful and, yes, winter is the hardest season. The extreme cold, snow, ice and wind mean outside work is more difficult and dangerous and keeping us warm inside requires a lot more physical effort. It's still easier than how Daddy grew up on his family's WV hardscrabble farm. Their farmhouse had only one coal fireplace and one cook stove to provide heat. The boys slept upstairs, the girls downstairs and Grandmother and Granddaddy slept in the living room which also had two iron frame beds and was where the one fireplace was located. The boys and girls would take heated bricks to warm the beds and, with at least two to a bed, sleep under half dozen, or more!, hand made quilts. In the frigid winter morning, they'd flap the bed covers to scatter the snow that had crept in through the clapboards and lay on quilt tops...no such thing as insulation...before dashing downstairs to dress by the fire.

~ Daddy's WV homeplace ~

The first winter Dave and I lived here, Jan 1996, because we had no central heat (or electricity except for a couple of downstairs rooms) we used a pot belly coal/wood stove and the same soapstone wood stove I now use. By November 1995, we'd taken out all the walls to put in electrical lines and insulation and how well I remember going upstairs to shovel snow from inside the house to outside the house! Sheet rock walls weren't put in until Spring '96, a day of celebration I assure you. (When we first got electricity throughout the house, Dave and I put lamps in each room, turned them on and drove down the valley until we were out of sight of the house. Then, slowly we drove back toward the house and, as the 'lit up like a Christmas tree' house came into view we exclaimed, "WOW! Look at that beautiful place! Wonder who lives there?" Ah yes, we had some silly, memorable times!) Maybe I should start a series of blog posts on restoring our lovely old farmhouse...what's your vote? 

~ Ephesians 6:10 ~

Pride goeth before a fall but I admit to being just a tad bit proud I'm able to continue on the farm, to do the work set before me. I know it's all due to God's strength and, many times daily, as I stand at a sink, I see the above verse as both reminder and prayer. Yes, there are days when tears flow freely as I struggle to finish morning chores knowing it's only hours before evening chores but He helps and provides. Yes, by now I wanted the farm sold and the animals and I moved but my plan isn't His plan. As I've told Him time and time again, "Lord, I want your perfect will, not your permissive will for my life. Please, don't let me get in your way and run before You; let me follow You." Some days it's easier to pray than others but, I continue to ask for wisdom and He gives it; I ask for faith and He increases it; I ask for strength and He provides. Always.

These past almost twenty years have been an adventure of epic proportions and I wouldn't have traded any of them for anything. I miss Dave with every molecule in my body but accept God's  perfect plan for both Dave and myself. When God does say, "It's time", I plan on being ready for the next great adventure but, until then, I'm enjoying another Appalachian Winter at Thistle Cove Farm...where it's beautiful one day and perfect the next.

Blessings ~ memories ~ God's gifts of wisdom, strength, courage, faith, safety ~ the work He sets before me ~ sturdy, pioneer stock ~ beautiful music ~ Appalachia ~

My Heart Has Callouses

~ the Cove, our valley ~

"Autumn: the year's last, loveliest smile."

~ William Cullen Bryant ~

Autumn is my favorite season but I say that about them all. Dave died in Autumn and that which was already bittersweet has become a bittersweet burden. Thistle Cove Farm and this valley are breath taking and heart catching beautiful. I am so blessed to live here, even without Dave, I am so blessed to live here. All the seasons, each season, has beauty that bids tears on a daily basis and the crisp autumnal season carries a bittersweet glow; a reminder that even earth needs her sweet rest. The golds, oranges, reds and russets of October will soon give way to November's storms. October's death is peaceful, even serene, but November will scream in the timeless agony of howling winds that threaten to, then do, rip the decreasing daylight into increasing night. Some nights, the rain becomes ice pellets and I am happy to sit inside, close to the fire with dogs and cats cuddled 'round.

~ our home ~

"Autumn is the hardest season.

The leaves are falling, 

and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground."

~ Andrea Gibson ~

Between the falling leaves and the Canada geese calling, it's Autumn on the farm. A lot of days are gray and overcast but when the sun shines, it's a Gift of the finest measure. I think it's going to be a harsh winter and have been working, almost feverishly, to get the farm and house ready. The chimney sweep has been here; both chimney and wood stove are ready. All that needs to finish is to bring a load of wood from barn to back porch then wood laid in the stove to be match ready.

The propane tank was filled this summer so the propane heaters are ready as well. As a matter of fact the pilot light was turned on in the bathroom and even that small flicker of heat is enough to dampen morning's chill. A young man was here to work on the furnace and, God bless him!, he thinks my oil bill might be cut by one-third; dare I pray for one-half? I neglected having the oil furnace cleaned after Dave died; it just didn't dawn on me it needed to be done. The furnace was full of soot and a piece had broken which meant the furnace wasn't working properly and I was wasting money, a lot of money. Thank God, the haze of grief has lifted enough for me to begin to get life back in some semblance of order. The grief still catches me by surprise though; I think I should be ahead by now but, weekly, am reminded of how off-center my life has become. I ponder, a lot, of womenfolk in my family and how they kept so busy after their husbands died. The majority of them lived in Appalachia and we share that similarity also.

~ Morris Knob in background ~

Both Grandmothers kept gardens, sewed, did handwork, canned and put up food and, generally, continued to keep body and soul together. It was harder for Grandmother B. who lived on the small, hardscrabble farm she and Granddaddy moved to when they married. Grandmother L. kept busy with all the above and then, in her late sixties, she began keeping foster children. Today, many a child owe their good start in life due to her largess.

Aunt Bonnie, Daddy's oldest sister, remarried but still worked tremendously hard on her small farm. She had milk cows and would churn butter and sell milk, butter and buttermilk; she'd sell eggs from her small flock of chickens and, during those long Appalachian winters, in a tiny corner of her small bedroom, she'd make patchwork quilts. I don't think she ever sold a quilt but would keep some and give others away. She gave me one, "Kid, you're to use this quilt; don't hang it on the wall or some such foolishness. It's meant to keep you warm. Understand?" Of course I said, "yes" and slept under that quilt for years.

Aunt Esther, Daddy's sister-in-law, quilted, did crochet, embroidery work, gardened and put up food. Both women had scads of grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren and both took it as a matter of pride those off-spring had something at Christmas and birthdays and, quite often, a hand crafted gift. Aunt Esther never re-married and only a few weeks before she died, during our last visit, she told me, "Sandra, I'm just so tired. All I want is to see Clarence, to be with him again." She was widowed in her early 50's and close to 50 years, my heart still breaks, remembering. She had offers but no one could ever measure up to Uncle Clarence; he was a man's man and a man after God's own heart. It's been said by more than one wife in Daddy's family, "No one could ever measure up to...". A young girl told me, "I'm still single because it's going to take someone amazing to get me to marry." I told her, "I'll be a widow a long time, maybe always, because it's going to take someone more amazing than Dave for me to re-marry and I can't see that happening."

I talk to God all the time; fortunately, He's never said, "Sandra, hold that thought, I'm busy." He always has time for me but I'm beginning to feel my heart has grief callouses from the daily life struggle without Dave. The pressure of isolation is heavy even though I keep very busy on our home stead. Recently, I read, "boredom is the disease of a vacant mind" and nodded, appreciatively. I cannot remember the last time I was bored, probably before meeting Dave, and there's always something to do and, even when I'm "at rest" the knitting basket, quilt hoop or embroidery lie ready to be picked up and a few rows knitted or stitched. If God allows me to live until my work is done, I'll be older than Methuselah when I die. Fortunately, my timetable isn't God's timetable and I'll go Home when called; just as will we all.

~ morning fog ~

"There is so much beauty in autumn and so much wisdom;

so much separation and so much sorrow!"

~ Mehmet Murat ildan ~ 

There's a sense of ennui in Autumn; something that's not felt in other seasons. Dave would tell me my Autumn posts always carried a fair measure of ennui, of bittersweet. Those last weeks of his life he would tell me, "Try not to grieve too much, try to remember how to live again." But he never told me how and it looks like I'm a slow learner. I met Dave in Winter and lost him in Autumn; those years between were heady years, full of friendship, then adventure and love and finally contentment. You might as well know, I want need to leave this valley, this farm. I want need to move to a place where Dave and I never lived. God willing, I'll take the animals and memories and make a fresh start where family and friends await. I don't want to but it's what's best; I want to live life again, not merely survive. For almost two years, I've lived Autumn and Winter; I want to live Spring and Summer again before I die.

~ the view from my window ~

Blessings ~ Dave, always Dave ~ Seasons ~ Thistle Cove Farm ~ our animals ~ 

Welcome...spring???

 I'm so glad this spring snow storm didn't happen on 1 April.

 It would have broken my heart.

 As it is,

it's only my spirit that's, somewhat, mangled. 

Blessings - wood on the back porch ~ clean wood stove ~ fire in the wood stove ~ put my bed clothing on at 4:30 today ~ it's almost bed time ~ nighty-night ~

One Cent Solution

~ Tippy, grooming Gypsy ~

Recently, someone asked me if there really was a "Pounding Mill" as shown on my left side weather button. Yes, there really is a Pounding Mill and it's just down the road. What isn't entirely truthful, is the weather shown there. Oh, I expect it might be right for Pounding Mill but it's certainly hardly ever the same for Thistle Cove Farm. Here, it can be anywhere from a few degrees to ten degrees, or more, colder than Pounding Mill. 

Case in point: when typing this post, the weather button said 42 degrees with scattered clouds at Pounding Mill. The thermometer on my back porch says 38 degrees F and the wind chill is bringing it down to around 25 degrees F. The sun is shining but clouds are dark and threatening which suggest we'll have rain, or worse, later today. Hopefully, much later today and only rain. 

There are some, tentative, signs of Spring but as this is only March, we're sure to have a few more snows, sleet and ice before Spring actually arrives. Winter has to be dropped kicked behind us and, generally, Spring is too soft and gentle for such measures. The wood stove fire had gone out because I, mistakenly thought, we were in for a few days of warm. Last night, the weather channel showed a cold front coming from the deep south and that means cold Cold weather. Last night, I started a fire but this morning, due to the southerly winds, the fire was little more than a handful of coals and a lot of ashes. It didn't take long to start another fire; I've gotten rather good at starting fires in the wood stove; cold tends to, quickly, make me an expert. 

~ Levi ~

March has been, again, rather dreadful and I'm blessed if I know why. Last year, March was worse than dreadful and it was all I could do to bear the grief. At least, this year, March has only kicked my fanny and not threatened to overwhelm totally. Thank God for His mercy!

Certainly the state of our union is depressing, as is the fact all  most in DC are acting like petulant, pissy little children who aren't getting their way. I'm fed up with all of them and think they should all be taken to the woodshed. I've not seen a brain amongst them whom I deem worthy enough to change the Constitution yet some of them are acting as if they are God Incarnate. snort! Our Founding Fathers knew from first hand experience and knowledge what happens when a demagogue gets in power; they'd escaped that sort of thing when they left the Old World for the New. At least in the Old Country they had an excellent excuse; their demagogue was royalty and some of us elected ours!  

As usual, those fools in DC want to throw a band-aid on the problem then congratulate themselves for being astute and wise...when they are neither. And, yes, I'm speaking of the Second Amendment being tampered and torn by folks who, apparently, think it's not worthy of mention there are more than 40,000 people killed in vehicle crashes annually with almost 6.4 million accidents but are screaming "gun control" because there were 11,000 murders using guns in 2011 and almost 20,000 suicides.  What two words tell me what's at play here? Lobbyists and Control. A huge portion of the car manufacturing industry is in Obama's back pocket due to the millions of tax dollars he threw at them his last term. More importantly, almost everyone who is of driving age in this country has a car or truck so there's the "not in my backyard" mentality. Not everyone has a gun and the media has done a Fine job of frightening those folks who are ignorant about guns. News flash...guns and cars are completely and totally ineffective at killing people. They have to be USED by someone in order to work. Why not address the more pressing problem of how those with mental illness  are treated in this country? Oh, what's that you say? It's because who wants to control a bunch of nuts when government can control everyone? My rational fear is, first the Second Amendment, then the First Amendment and then the rest of the Constitution. You say it can't happen? A lot of people said we'd never get this far and yet, here we are...at a crossroads.

~ the pot of money is running out, quickly! ~

As to "sequestration", that's been bastardized as well. It originally was a legal term that applied when valuable property was taken into custody by an agent of the court and locked away for safekeeping. It prevented the property from being disposed of or abused before a dispute over its ownership could be resolved. Then Congress, those mighty warriors of idiocy, confiscated the word "to describe a new fiscal policy procedure originally provided for in the Gramm-Rudman-Hollings Deficit reduction Act of 1985 -- an effort to reform Congressional voting procedures so as to make the size of the Federal government's budget deficit a matter of conscious choice rather than simply the arithmetical outcome of a decentralized appropriations process in which no one ever looked at the cumulative results until it was too late to change them. If the dozen or so appropriations bills passed separately by Congress provide for total government spending in excess of limits Congress earlier laid down for itself in the annual Budget Resolution, and if Congress cannot agree on ways to cut back the total (or does not pas a new, higher Budget Resolution), then an "automatic" form of spending cutback takes place. This automatic spending cut is what is called "sequestration."

Under sequestration, an amount of money equal to the difference between the cap set in the Budget Resolution and the amount actually appropriated is "sequestered" by the Treasury and not handed over to the agencies to which it was originally appropriated by Congress. In theory, every agency has the same percentage of its appropriation withheld in order to take back the excessive spending on an "across the board" basis. However, Congress has chosen to exempt certain very large programs from the sequestration process (for example, Social Security and certain parts of the Defense budget), oh yes, let's penalize those among us who have paid the most into the system as well as leave us open for attack from our enemies...wait, I seem to recall giving the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood 1.5 Billion $$$ and who is Egypt's newest ally? Ummm, that would be Iran! and the number of exempted programs has tended to increase over time -- which means that sequestration would have to take back gigantic shares of the budgets of the remaining programs in order to achieve the total cutbacks required, virtually crippling the activities of the unexempted programs.

The prospect of sequestration has thus come to seem so catastrophic that Congress so far has been unwilling actually to let it happen. Instead, Congress has repeatedly chosen simply to raise the Budget Resolution spending caps upward toward the end of the legislative session in order to match the actual totals already appropriated, thus largely wiping out the incentives that the reformed budget procedures were expected to provide for Congress to get better control for the budget deficit."

Dear God! I would be absolutely ashamed to accept a paycheck for representing my constituents! But then, I have a moral conscious, something which seems, from all appearances, to be lacking in our elected representatives officials. A question for YOU: how long would you be able to borrow, borrow, borrow and live well beyond your means before your house of cards came crashing down? 

And yet, out of every $10 the USA spends, we're borrowing $4 of those dollars from China! Please, tell me, what is so difficult to understand about living within your means...your ability to pay for those things you need, then want? 

~ one penny ~

The US is in process of sending has begun sending 240 F-16 fighter jets and Abrams tanks to Egypt; why? Because those fools in the Senate okayed the deal! Oh, and for those who say those F-16 fighter jets and Abrams tanks were being "sold" to Egypt...yes, with the $1.5 billion in aid we've been sending them, yearly, for decades! Aren't you angry over all of this? Senator Rand Paul was the, apparently, lone voice speaking against sending Egypt war weapons and said, "You've seen those pictures of tens, if not hundreds of thousands of people rioting in the streets. Does this look like a stable country to you?" Does anyone remember the US flag being burned in the streets of Cairo last year? Does anyone even care??? I'm going to find out how the Virginia Senators voted and then, if they voted to send MY tax dollars to Egypt, I'm writing a scathing, hand written letter to them. I want them to know I hold them accountable; then, I'm going to blog about it and tell folks how my Senators voted. I'll also tell you how you can find out how your Senators voted and urge you to do likewise. It's well, fine and good to blog about the cats or horses or what I had for supper but, folks, let's start being part of the solution and not the problem. Hold our elected "representatives accountable; let them know you're watching. Every time you want to complain, grab a pen and paper and complain in writing. It's only when they know we're watching and writing, they, might, begin to truly represent their constituency...you and me, the Tax Slaves.

Need more convincing? From Al Hafiz TV (an Egyptian Islamic station) an Islamic cleric, of the Salafi nature said, "Egypt must make the U.S. conform to its own demands; and that, then, all the money the U. S. offers to Egypt in foreign aid can be taken as rightfully earned jizya."  See here for more information on jizya. Earlier this month, Sec. of State, John Kerry announced $250 million in aid was being sent to Egypt. Way to go, John! You're  making Egypt proud; me...not so much.

Is there an answer? Citizens for Restoring American's Financial Future have come up with the One Cent Solution and is, I think, a workable solution, yet the One Cent Solution has been largely discounted, not even up for discussion. It has three parts (which is, more than likely, one reason it's been totally discounted...leaves little room for theft graft and it's simply too easy): 

1.  A Plan that Works by

*Reducing federal spending by $7.5 TRILLION over 10 years (do those figures grab you as absolutely insane? How did we get to this point? One word: greed.

*Reduce the budget by 2019

2.  Legislative Strategy: "not all programs must be cut by one percent. Congress may determine that some programs are too critical to cut, but that would require that other programs be reduced more so that the total amount cut is equal to one cent for every dollar each year for six years.

3.  Public Support. Ahhh, here's where the rubber meets the road. It's well and fine to talk about the greed of DC but when the cuts bite into free mobile phones, free air conditioners, free pork, etc. we become those same petulant, pissy little children mentioned earlier. 

Did you know 50%, or more, of the people in this country are on the government dole? The speed of the leader is the speed of the team.

Ah well, I think I'll go muck out the barn. At least I can do something about some of the manure. Do what you can, where you can, when you can and pray the USA doesn't fall like ancient Rome and Greece.

"There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." ~ Albert Einstein ~

Today's Miracles ~ the USA is still a world power ~ a few Godly minds left in DC ~ One Cent Solution ~ Senator Rand Paul ~ Pounding Mill ~ barn mucking, it's good for what ails a person me ~

Life and Death on the Farm

This latest storm hasn't been fierce but the cold and wind are absolutely bitter. Looking down the valley, the sun is breaking through but only for a few seconds, while the snow is blowing hard but no more accumulation is expected. Fortunately, the sheep have good wool coats, as do the alpacas, and the horses all have shelter. Last night, in the gloaming, I looked out and saw the horses eating hay from last year so I rushed out and set out a new round bale. It's in a bad location so I'll have to move it on Monday but, hopefully, it'll be warmer and not as icy, cold or slick. I always take the safest way when doing farm work!

This deer is eating at Daddy John's silage pit; deer come to feed daily at dawn and dusk and are a pleasure to watch. They drive the dogs crazy but they're a treat to watch.

Levi, here on the tractor front end loader, likes to go to the barn when the dogs and I go down to do chores. He's growing into a fine feller and, right now, is crashed out next to the wood stove.

This is my walnut tree and a favorite tree to photograph. There are fewer than half  dozen trees on this farm and, all but one, are 100 years or older. 

Here, Carly Shetland was just given a treat of bread and Sophie Loren Butterball is looking for a few crumbs. My dogs all think they're starving but all have extra flesh...yes, you can pinch an inch! Carly is so old, nearest I can figure she's around 17 or 18, and just about crippled with arthritis. She hobbles along, voice like a fog horn, and orders me around something dreadfully. If I'm not paying enough attention to her, or not giving her a treat, she'll paw me with her sharp little hooves. It's nothing for me to have a row of bruises up and down my legs because her sister and their off spring do the exact same thing!

Someone told me eagles were carrion vultures -thanks, Charlotte!- with better press and they're right. Earlier this week, I saw eagles in my upper pasture and, when I went to investigate they flew into the tree near the road. Buster Brown, one of my oldest sheep, about the same age as Carly, had gone to sleep and never work up. From the looks of things, it'd happened during the night and the eagles arrived that morning to clean up. I called Daniel and he came at lunch and disposed of the body. All my flock is aged, the youngest is approaching ten and I'll, probably, have one or two more old ones die this winter. People keep telling me to take them to market but I can't. They've been wool sheep all their lives and to truck them to market now is a betrayal on my part; so I won't. 

The eagles weren't too happy when I disturbed them but the feeling was, somewhat, mutual. I don't blame them for doing their job but, thankfully, Daniel came to help me do my job. Or rather, he came to do my job...he loaded Buster into the front end loader and took him away for burial. 

The sun didn't last long and it's now snowing so hard the mountains are but a dim outline. It's frigid cold and when I went outside to take photos, it only took five minutes before my fingers froze and started tingling. Hopefully, the roads will be cleared tomorrow, Kim and I have to go to church and then, she goes home. We've had a very lazy day...breakfast, chores, watching Psyche on television, taking a walk to get the mail and then more laziness. Yes, there's a lot of work we I could be doing but, sometimes, it's just fun to goof off. Like Dave used to say, "goofing off isn't any fun unless there's something else you should be doing." He'd be proud of me today. smile

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." ~ Albert Einstein ~

Today's Miracles ~ Kim, company for the weekend ~ snow ~ eagles ~ Buster, he lived a good, long, happy life ~ sun, breaking through the gray ~ deer ~ Levi ~ 

Oh Lawz, It's Nasty Cold

~ frozen laundry ~

It warmed up ten whole degrees today...woohoo! It was around seven above zero when the sun came up, not sure what it was when I got up, around 5:30. Like a lot of folks, I shudder to think of my oil and propane bill and the wood stove hasn't cooled down in weeks. It's a real drag and, yes, that's meant literally. Going to the barn, in wind chills well below zero, is rough; even the dogs look at me like I'm crazy and seem to say, "Are you sure those stinkin' barn cats need food?" They think it's okay to go out in the frigid temps to have fun but to do work...hmmm, not so much. And some folks call them dumb animals.

~ Daddy John going to feed his cattle ~

Around here, most farmers wait until, at the bare minimum, daylight to do chores but it's an individual decision to wait until it warms up, the sun shines, the wind isn't howling...there are a  bunch of reason to make the choice and generally based on the safety factor. I hate to get on the tractor when the wind is howling, yet, that's when the animals need hay most. Due to the wind, we have deep snow drifts and huge areas where there isn't any snow; also, these photos were taken on different days.

~ Dandy Man, background with HayJ, left, and Bo, right ~

A combination of factors enter into when I put out hay. Obviously, the most important factor is if the animals are out of hay. That makes it an easy decision. If the wind is howling, that's another negative factor and if there's any sort of moisture...I get the hay out as quickly and safely as possible. Usually, the hay has a round, metal ring around it to keep it from being trampled, but, it's been so cold, I put this round bale closer to the house...better for my safety. Horses produce heat from the gut out and need protein to produce heat in order to stay warm and healthy. All my animals have free choice shelter, water that's warmed with a de-icer and free choice hay. As with humans, it's easier and less expensive to stay well than get well. 
I set out three round bales of hay and do other necessary chores; all that takes me around three hours. Daddy John could do it in a lot less time but he's more comfortable on a tractor than am I; I tend to go v.e.r.y. slowly and carefully. I'd rather take longer and be safe than hurry up and risk a doctor or hospital visit. 

~ barn door trench ~

A couple of weeks ago, it was warm enough to dig out the tractor; the door being frozen due to ground heave. Ground heave is caused by freeze thaw cycles and the mud had frozen to the door, and, using a mattox, I dug a trench so I could open and close the barn door. Freezing weather and door locks do not a good partnership make and, next, the door lock froze. I tried a lot of things before resorting to boiling water poured over the lock. Someone said, "weren't you afraid you'd break the lock?" Trust me, that was the least of my worries!  The same measures were used to open the lock on the wood barn and, tomorrow, I'm going to bring a couple of weeks worth of wood to the back porch. 
When we first moved to the farm, I asked Dave for three things: a well for drinking water, a gas stove for cooking and a wood stove for heating. Our well is 650 feet deep and produces 75 gallons of sweet limestone water a minute; our Acorn cook stove has gas burners and I've written about our beautiful wood stove that heats a portion of the house.

~ mud season ~

There are five seasons on a farm, winter, spring, summer, autumn and mud with mud season happening, on and off, all year 'round. There are times the mud is so deep and thick, my Muck boots are sucked off my feet and not something that bears too close a look when one considers muck...manure, urine, crap and...what about the 'k'? -smile-

~ l to r, Levi, Gypsy, Tippy ~

Back in the house, Levi, Gypsy and Tippy have to be shooed out of the bathroom tub so I can have a bone warming hot soak. After being in the cold for so many hours, my knees feel like shattered glass and only a hot water soak alleviates the pain...well, hot water and a few aspirin. Today was a red letter day; Dr. Ann removed Levi's nubbins so he'll  spend his life healthier although p'raps not happier but he'll never know different and a loving family member. 

~ l to r, Sam, Sadie, Sophie ~

The dogs crowd on the sofa, in the living room where the wood stove keeps all toasty. At the moment, the bone sucking cold is making life difficult and I've heard a "super storm" is headed our way tomorrow. I'm not sure what that means but it sounds like more cold, more snow, more winds and more pain. ugh. Tuck me into prayer, would you, please?

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." ~ Albert Einstein ~ 

Today's Miracles ~ sunshine ~ heathy animals ~ successful surgery ~ tub of hot water ~ aspirin ~ good boots ~ round bales of alfalfa hay ~ 

Blackberry Blizzard

In the past, I've written about Blackberry Winter in 2005, 2008 and 2011. There are probably a few other posts but these three give you an idea; it was also a trip down memory lane for me...a happy trip, let me add. For those who might not know, Blackberry Winter is the reverse of Indian Summer. It's that time in Spring that we've had a warm/hot spell and the blackberry bushes are in bloom. Then, WHAM! Ole Man Winter comes for a visit and we're slammed with winter...but today it's not just Blackberry Winter, it's Blackberry Blizzard!

We're having high winds, sleet mixed with snow, low visibility and the horses and calves are not happy. Can't say as I blame them; I'm not all that thrilled myself. I've had terrible cabin fever and was going to Abingdon today to meet Chris. We were going to go to the bookstore, do a little shopping, eat lunch and, generally, catch up with each other but not now. Dave and I always made the agreement to not travel dangerous roads. When the weather was terrible, unless it was a have to case, we always stayed home. There are folks who have to go to their job and Dave and I didn't want to add to the mix. Tractors are holding steady to the road but I can hear pick-up trucks slipping and sliding all over the place. Yep, made the right decision to stay at home!

I was at the barn at 6:30, throwing out hay to the horses and feeding barn cats. One of the horses was shivering, not a good sign, as horses generate heat from the belly out. They needed food and quickly! So, I gave them a double portion of hay which should tide them until this afternoon when I give out more hay. The barn cats, used to me showing up an hour later, weren't in evidence but the food was put out for them anyway. So, my day is now going to be spent doing a bit of estate paperwork, cleaning and making something to eat for myself.

When Dave was alive, we gloried in food prep and eating and would spend quite some time thinking about food, buying food, preparing food and then sharing meals. Not so much anymore. It's such a drag, all the above and, the truth hurts here, I don't really care. In the morning, I'll make a two country egg spinach cheese omelet, sometimes with home made sausage or bacon, sometimes with bread and that will hold me until yogurt for supper. Those of you who live alone or have spouses who work away, what do you do? Do you fix full meals? How do you feed yourself?

How's the weather where you're living? Blackberry Winter, Blackberry Blizzard or Spring? Whatever; it's good to be above ground!

Blessings ~ weather ~ hay ~ omelets ~ blogging ~ strength to do the work God sets before me ~

A Dog's Life, All Six of 'Em!

~ waiting for breakfast ~

We're having Ole Man Winter visit the farm today; wind chills are around zero, temps are around 10 above F and the sun is playing hide and seek...mainly hide. We've been to the barn to count noses, feed animals, check water and now it's after lunch, time to do...well, what needs to be done is yet more paperwork dealing with Dave's death. However, I am so weary of paperwork; 'deed, what I'd really like is to run away from home if only for a night or two. Just to get a different perspective, to blow the cobwebs out, to have a meal food that's more than a handful of nuts or jellybeans or, for breakfast, Grapenuts cereal. It seems I can't get away from nuts -smile-. 

~ no sweater for Jake B. Goode ~

It takes me a while to get everyone ready for the barn trek. The dogs all have sweaters and I have layers; by the time I get their sweaters on them, I've worked up a sweat, both from the exertion and from continually saying, "Stand still; wait a minute, stop that, move please!" Everyone is excited, they know what's coming and it makes them happy. All that is, save Jake, my Prodigal Son Border Collie, who is too dogly to wear a sweater. I think. At least, I've never tried putting a sweater on him. Jake has been coming here for around a year a while, can't really remember, and now that it's harsh winter, Jakes sleeps inside but still deigns to go to the barn for chores. He needs to keep an eye on the sheep and horses, you see. Jake is a Rambling Man and as a matter of fact, he and the Blue Heeler bitch on the farm behind us, just had a litter of puppies. As soon as I'm able to get off the farm, I'm going to buy a huge bag of dog food to contribute to their table. The folks who own the proud Mom hardly have two pennies to rub together so a bag of dog food will help Mom and puppies alike. BTW, anyone want a beautiful working dog? Those puppies are likely to have more brains than you and I put together and as both parents are beautiful, the puppies are button cute as well. Photos asap.
I'd ask Dave, "want me to take Jake to the animal shelter?" and Dave would always say, "no, but dadgummit! I hate having a dog that's smarter than me!" Jake comes and goes, as he wills and as always, and we're growing accustomed to each other's ways. 

~ Abigail Von Rotten the Terrier and Sadie Hawkins ~

Abbie has been here since May 1997 but only God knows her beginnings or her age but we do know she's a rough coat Jack Russell. She was an adult when we found her and, even though aged, she's still got a heart the size of Montana. Her eyes are dimmed, her hearing almost gone and she requires two sweaters when the weather is harsh yet she refuses to stay behind. I know the feeling; I'd rather die with my boots on than watching television and, God willing, when it's my time, I'll go with my boots on, doing what I love, chores on this farm. 

Sadie, aka Sada Hawkins, is from Keniba Ridgebacks and almost three; she's the only one we actually know their birth date. She's still puppyish and that's because I've allowed her to grow at her own pace and rate. Sadie, as are all Ridgebacks, is a chow hound and a counter surfer; if it's food, it's not safe. I cannot begin to tell you how many pounds of butter and bacon, glasses of milk, roasts, mashed potatoes, etc. she's consumed over the years. If it's not in the oven or placed high, it's not safe; she'll eat it. I know for a fact she burnt her tongue when she ate shortbread right from the hot pan! I was sure the shortbread was safe as it sat cooling for ten minutes but nope; Sadie said, "gosh it was hot but good!" Bad girl but it was my fault so no, she wasn't punished beyond my yelling...at lot and loudly. By the by, Keniba has a litter of puppies in February and if you're able to get on their buy list, more hurrah for you. Edith, Keniba's breeder, has Excellent Quality Ridges and I unreservedly recommend her. Yes, you can get less expensive Ridgebacks but as Dave always said, "Pay now or pay later, probably triple." It's always much better to put your money on the table in the beginning and get a quality companion animal, one who is deemed free of disease and health problems. Later on, it's not only financially expensive but it's heart breaking to deal with a friend who is sickly and in poor health so don't do it; buy quality and save yourself heartbreak. But, please, please...someone head slap me...I CAN NOT GET ANOTHER DOG...either a Ridge or one of Jake's puppies. Please help me say "NO"! 

Dave used to tell me the Drudge Report would, eventually, say, "Cove couple has 57 dogs!" I'd look at him and reply, "you say that like it's a bad thing!" 

~ Sophie Lauren Butterball ~

My little fat girl still hasn't lost weight but that's not her fault. Her dang human, me, gives treats in the morning and feeds at night. I have cut back on the treats so, maybe, she'll start losing a pound or four. Sophie came here the week after Dave was buried; her human Pa had cancer and died leaving her human Ma in dire straits.  Dave and I'd discussed bringing Sophie to live with us and just because Dave died, I saw no reason to reverse my offer. Soph is a broken coat brown and white Jack Russell and thinks she owns the place; between she and Abbie, they're probably right.

~ Sam P. Spade, Secret Agent ~

Sam still hasn't told us what the P. stands for but that's okay; a man of mystery is always welcome. One first Sunday in June, while on the way to church, Dave and I found Sam. He was just a little thing and had, probably, been thrown out with his litter. He was the only one we found so we turned around, brought him home and put him in the kennel with fresh water and food. sigh. Dave and I being humans, are slow so it took us two weeks to get it through out thick skulls Sam was meant to live here, on the farm, and we would be his humans. It's been a good arrangement and all are happy with this little Basket Hound, aka Basset Hound, Spaniel, Terrier mix. 

~ Grandma Grace and Miss Kitty ~

Gracie is the oldest dog, we're guessing around seventeen but, again, only God knows. She was wandering around on the side of the road when she was, easily, persuaded to live on the farm. Her bones are old, she's slow and dim of sight but is yet able to dance for a treat. Grace is an Australian Shepherd Corgi mix and loves to herd me. If I'm not moving quickly enough or in the "right" direction, Grace will take a little nip at my heels to hurry me along. Alas, Miss Kitty has gone on before and she and Dave are saving me a place. 

I've not even gone into detail on the rescued horse or sheep; that's for another entry. I do know I need to get to the grocery store, if I'm going; there's sure to be black ice on the road so I need to go and come during daylight hours. 

So, tell me...who have you rescued lately? Who owes their life to your being willing to extend a hand?

Blessings ~ Abigail ~ Grace ~ Sadie ~ Sam ~ Jake ~ Sophie ~ and all those gone before and to come after, God bless us, everyone! ~