Showing posts from July, 2013

In which we rejoice in our Swamplandish blue skies (and storytelling)

Can you believe how clear and blue our Swampish skies have been this week?

Me neither!

We've got Patty back in the saddle again, with some cool skid marks to show for her little incident.

Monica is back with us again, too, hooray! She's riding Hana while Duana is stuck doing some lucrative lawyer-y thingy.

(that isn't blood on Monica's britches--it's berry juice. The salmon berries are ripe!)

...and when the salmon berries are ripe, it's time for us to return for a weekend of storytelling at the Powellswood Garden Storytelling Festival.

Santa Jim ran sound in a tent for two days, while I took the mic as Master of Ceremonies.

Our young friend Henry came along to volunteer for the event--he did everything from delivering lunches to moving chairs...

...and still had time to explore the beautiful garden in between performance sets.

Onstage, we were treated to stories told by old friends...

...and also learned new songs and dances from storytelle…

In which Patty is a headbanger, and there's glitter on the trail now

Coincidentally, I was sorting through some old stacks of Endurance News magazines a few days ago, and found a helmet-safety article I'd written for the January 2007 issue, entitled "Confessions of a former head-banger."
(Troy is the editor at EN, and she loves a catchy title, can you tell?)

Then on Sunday, who do you s'pose came up positive on the gravity test...

...and got to walk back to the trailhead?

There's been a bit of helmet chatter on the 'web lately, following the tragic death of a rider at an endurance event.  The woman was riding fast, her pony's foot hit a hole, and she hit the ground hard.  The helmet didn't save her.

Because even a really good helmet can't save everyone from everything, unfortunately.

But here's the thing:  just because sunscreen won't protect you from colon cancer, do you go outside without it?  (Not if you're a pale-skinned Swamplander, you don't!).

And just because wearing a seatbelt won't s…

In which we catch up with the garden, which is about to outrun us

One of the perks of being broke (and thus, unable to go haring off to endurance events every 2 weeks, as I do when the money is flush) is that I have more time to spend in the garden.
We've come a long way from the pathetic garden we created our first spring on the farm.

This year, we've already been over-run by snap peas, and the carrots and beans are starting to pick up speed.

And, of course, there's the annual Zucchini Problem.

Our latest coping strategy is a dish we call the "Backyard Scramble:"

Yellow potatoes, zucchini, finely chopped carrot and onion, scattered with green peas,

scrambled eggs seasoned with fresh rosemary or fresh basil, and served with beans (purple on the vine, green after cooking) and homemade toast smeared with Jim's 2012 blackberry jam.

Even the bag of scraps for the chickens

is rather pretty!

And the garden continues to galumph alone.  Compare the July 21 photo below with the July 5 photo at the top of this post:
the purple beans…

In which our dog karma shifts over a little bit, and there's good news

We'll never get accustomed to losing a beloved friend like Mimsy, but some customs are comforting.

Her apple tree stands at the upper corner of the orchard, where she used to circle and bark whenever visitors came to Haiku Farm.

In future years, the tree will be the first glimpse of our home as we crest the hill.

We planted a sweet plum tree last year for Pickles Marie, and surrounded it with lavender and rosemary.  The tree has rooted in and fledged out beautifully this year, and I harvest a few pinches of the herbs each week.

This is the way our universe rolls:

There was a "LOST DOG" notice posted at the trailhead when Duana and I went out yesterday.  We even recognized the description of the dog--we'd seen her out with her pack of horses and dogs and people the prior week.

Did you notice how I snuck that little tidbit of goodness up above there?

I'm riding again!
Solo with the Dragon, mostly, but also with Du and the Usual Suspects.

I've got a good strat…

In which we have a very sad day. Mimsy, 2003? - today

If I ever write a book called How to Love a Dog

there will be a picture of Mimsy Springwater on the cover.

She knew two things absolutely:

1.  She is a good dog.

2.  We love her.


Tonight, we cry.

Tomorrow, we will plant an apple tree for her.

It's what we do here.