Friday, April 28, 2017

pink moon :: a journal of days








3.27.17

First work bonfire of the year!  We cleaned up the fallen branches in the yard and burned them, along with old fencing, a once-used goat milking stand, and other debris that has been lying about. It was good to be out in the warm sunshine and smell the earthy woodsmoke. The warmth of the fire and the sound of birdsong was good medicine.

I  tackled some more of the grapevines and multi flora rose that was strangling the pine trees and apple tree in the scrub area next to the fire pit. So satisfying to tend to the land in this way!

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3.30.17

Low gumption day yesterday. It was chilly out, even though the sun was shining - so though I had outdoor chores on my" to do" list, I was drawn to the felting table and the spinning wheel with a mug of warm tea. 

Peepers were singing last night!  I opened my bedroom window to hear them, and fell asleep reading “Braiding Sweetgrass” listening to their song.

Our bees didn’t make it this year, an entire hive lost. So sad. A reflection of what is happening on our planet in one hive. What are we doing wrong? Tim will take a frame to local beekeepers to be inspected. He has ordered 2 new nucs, but is feeling discouraged.

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3.31.17

Rain is falling steady and it is damp.

I may build a fire today, even though temps are supposed to be in the 40’s.  No outside work today!






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4.4.17

Warmer yesterday with temps in the high 60’s - peepers out in full song!  Sleeping with windows open - the fresh breeze feels good after a winter of being indoors in dry heat. I always sleep so much better with the windows open. Today the wind will pick up again bringing more rain.

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4.5.17

It is so cheerful to see all of the green and growing things around the house. Tall, thin onions, leafy broccoli, rosemary, celery and morning glories reaching up toward the light.

Cheerful sounds of bright baby chicks chirping wafting up from the workshop. The chicks are growing so fast and almost ready to join the others in the coop.





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4.7.17

Snow is back for one day - we lost a hen and our rooster John Wayne the other night. A weasel got into the coop and took them away. We have 3 hens remaining. Sad days for us chicken keepers.

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4.9.17

At a time of year when new life should be at the forefront, we find ourselves confronted with loss. We lost all of our bees a couple of weeks age, and now the hives are empty.  The chickens have all been picked off one by one - we have 2 scared hens remaining. They are afraid to go back into the coop, and we can’t find where they are laying the eggs.

We have 4 pullets that are living in a crate in the workshop (along with 12 growing meat chickens) who need to be transferred down to the barn. We will wait to see if we can capture the predator before sending them down. My heart is heavy over this, and this season of hope and renewal seems rather bleak at the moment.  But the only way out is through. 





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4.10.17

Beautiful weather this weekend - 70 degrees and sunny with peepers in full song. A full moon in the sky last night! I saw it setting from my bed out of the front window as I woke this morning. Peace and fullness for a moment.





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4.28.17

As spring fully descends on this farm, my spirits lift along with the green shoots of plants and budding flowers on trees and bushes.  

Spring work has begun!  Blueberry bushes were planted, apple trees mulched, and garden prepared. Tim and I planted the tiny seeds of onions, kale, lettuces, spinach, sage, chamomile and the big chunky fava beans in the rich, composted soil.  Pullets and meat chickens have been moved from the workshop to the coop, and are allowed outside in a penned area until further notice. We have one laying hen left after capturing the weasel that was picking off our flock. We have named her “Survivor” - but I call her “Mama” because she is now the matron.

Days are longer, and we are once again sitting on our front porch at the end of each day to enjoy the setting sun and the sounds of peepers and frogs. 

Life is abundant and good. 




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~ j



Friday, March 24, 2017

sap moon :: a journal of days




3.1.17

The redwing blackbirds have been in the treetops for about a week now. I hear them: “Cup O’ TEA!, Cup O’ TEA!” - and it makes me smile outwardly. These seasonal gifts never cease to lift my spirits and bring a big smile to my face.

I talked to a very nice woman about Longwool Sheep. We will go and see her this week just to have a look, buy some roving, and talk.  

Plans are also being discussed for a pole barn in the back. Although making any change to the landscape is a tough decision - we do need a sturdy barn for hay, supplies and animals! 

It feels so good to be moving forward!


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3.2.17

Windy last night! The whole house was shaking - woke up to snow, but no trees down.

March is such a strange month - winter or spring depending on the day, and you never know what you’re going to get!

Roosters are fighting and poor Papa has been beaten. He stayed away from the flock all day yesterday and slept on a pile of hay in the corner of the coop. It’s not looking good for him. He has been with us a long time, and has always been a loyal protector. 


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3.3.17

Moving into and through this month of self-doubt and gloominess. The only way out is through. Also remembering words of wisdom from “The Artist’s Way”:: “There are always moments of rest, or even moving backward, from forward progression toward a goal.”  I feel the need to just let my intentions rest for the moment and stop striving.

A haze of worry rests over me - & I’m a little perplexed as to why it’s there? Fear for the state of the union? Fear for the planet and living things? Missing the mothering of my children? Dealing with the inevitable loss of a dear rooster? 

Or maybe it’s just March.




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3.4.17

Very cold. Papa Rooster left the coop yesterday on a frigid cold, blustery, and snowy day. We assume he’s gone, he never returned. 

Joy and sadness do walk hand in hand on this farm. My heart thanks him and appreciates him. I don’t think roosters care too much about those things. But it feels right to pay my respects.


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3.5.17

Papa is alive! 

I heard his majestic crow coming from the back fields after feeding the other chickens. He is badly frostbitten and is missing an eye, but he heartily ate the food I put out for him and stayed out in the sun all day long. 

At dusk, Tim lured him into a big cage and brought him back to the coop where he could rest under the heat lamp with food and water. I will make him molasses oatmeal today, and give him time to heal.


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3.10.17

Snow has been falling again - keep moving forward, keep moving forward toward plans with heart engaged.



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3.13.17

Grateful for my practice, the crows, the wind and the sun.


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3.15.17

Nor-Easter bringing wind and temps in the 20’s. We hunkered down and I did some spinning and felting in the studio. 

The full Sap Moon sets every year in front of the farm house. Every year I watch it as it disappears, pink and full, into the western horizon. This year was overcast, and I was unable to enjoy - but some years are like that.


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3.16.17

Snow days  - 2 in a row! Cozy - but at this time of year we are itching for a change. 

Papa rooster has been in his cage since Friday night, when I found him half frozen and huddled by the barn. We will keep him in there until the cold passes.


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3.18.17

Weather has not broken. Snow, cold and freezing rain. I am antsy to begin outdoor clean-up: pruning, cutting back grape vines and prickers, raking, picking up fallen branches, repairing toppled stones and bricks around the fire pit. 

We lost some chickens the other night. Mama included. This is why we always buy a dozen or so pullets every year - because of the inevitable loss to predators. It’s part of the deal; and as hard as it is I’ve made peace with it. 
We have some new babes coming up to take their places in the coop this spring! 

Isn’t that the way? Life always follows death. Out of the darkness, only light can come.


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~ j

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

snow moon :: a journal of days







The Snow Moon cycle brings the gifts of longer daylight, garden planning, and the beginnings of spring cleaning.  I'm moving again after the sedentary Wolf Moon cycle previous.

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We are still eating pork, venison, chicken and turkey we raised (with the exception of venison, which was brought home by Caleb).  We have beets left in the garden and squash in the root cellar - but we need to supplement veggies now from the market or from friends who own a farm.  (I miss my frozen peas harvested last year!)

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I've been skiing the back hill when weather permits.  Last week, after a 3 day lake-effect snow event, I was able to get out on a brilliantly sunny, balmy morning.  I went for a ski around the perimeter of Beiters field. Perfect. Brilliant blue sky. Immaculate sparkling snow. I should have brought my camera - it's not often we have a day like this up here in the winter, unaccompanied by wind!

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Some days bring snow, and others bring spring-like warmth and with it anticipation of what's to come! We have ordered our seeds: for veggies and my cut flower garden. Tim and I took a walk in the garden the other day and checked on the garlic (just sprouting under the straw).  He picked some thyme and sage and crushed the herbs in his hand so I could smell them.

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We have been getting outside on warmer days to walk the property to check the bees and make plans for fencing and housing for the next crop of pigs, chickens, turkeys and sheep (!) coming in the spring.  We lost a small hive of bees (the swarm Tim caught last year) - there was a mouse family living in the bee hive.  Our other hive is doing well - for now at least.  Bees are so vulnerable it seems, and they can be fine one day and gone the next.

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Tim brought an old drafting table out into my studio this week, so now my workspace is taking shape! I started a felting project last night in the warmth of my studio. My new addiction. My heart was full at having a beautiful work table and supplies galore (gifted by a friend). 

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~ j

















Friday, April 8, 2016



Wabi-sabi ::

 The art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in earthiness, 
of revering authenticity above all.







Characteristics of the wabi-sabi aesthetic include asymmetry, roughness or irregularity, simplicity, economy, austerity, modesty, intimacy and appreciation of the ingenuous integrity of natural objects and processes.


If an object or expression can bring about, within us, a sense of serene melancholy and a spiritual longing, then that object could be said to be wabi-sabi.



Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.




Wabi originally referred to the loneliness of living in nature, remote from society, rustic simplicity, freshness or quietness, and can be applied to both natural and human-made objects.




Sabi meant "chill", "lean" or "withered".  It is beauty or serenity that comes with age, when the life of the object and its impermanence are evidenced in its patina and wear, or in any visible repairs.





"Wabi-sabi is everything that today’s sleek, mass-produced, technology-saturated culture isn’t. 

It’s flea markets, not shopping malls; aged wood, not swank floor coverings; one single morning glory, not a dozen red roses. 






Wabi-sabi understands the tender, raw beauty of a gray December landscape and the aching elegance of an abandoned building or shed. It celebrates cracks and crevices and rot and all the other marks that time and weather and use leave behind. 







To discover wabi-sabi is to see the singular beauty
 in something that may first look imperfect"

~Robyn Griggs Lawrence




~j



















Saturday, February 20, 2016

Today was a good day.

A warmish day outside for February, with a bright sun.
But on my morning walk, as I trudged through knee-deep slushy snow,
 I decided that it would be a good day to spend inside

with this:






The alpaca fleece that M. (the woman who purchased our goats last December) gave me, 
with the trust that I would indeed track her down and return it cleaned, carded and spun.

Little does she know, that she has inspired me to finally buy the hand carders I've always needed, and to investigate (via You Tube tutorials of course) how to clean and card the 2 bags of raw alpaca fleece she put so faithfully into my hands.



"I find conversation and talk isn't real.
But in cooking, gardening, baking bread, there is something real. 
A visceral experience."

 Inspired by the quote above over my morning coffee,  and a newly formed vision for a life well lived, I sat down in my sunny kitchen and spent the day playing with fiber.


"Be present in your life - just do whatever your heart tells you. 
Don't be stuck in your mind"





I feel a pull in a new direction - new intentions coming to life - 
and as always, I am being led.

All of this insight from a bag of alpaca fleece and a day well spent 
behind a spinning wheel.





~j


All quotes from Tara Jensen.