Another chicken analogy..

Good morning.  The weather seems to be aligning with farming today, I have half the gardens planted although the peppers and tomatoes are none too happy as the night time temperatures went back into the lower 40's, quite steadily...  We started all of our transplants this year from seed, so I'm especially protective of these plants.  (I have had need to replace Kale with seedlings from local organic farm as something found all my starts delectable.  I think slugs...they got almost all of my broccoli and cabbage too.  I sprinkled wood ash all around the perimeter of these rows and now, no more problems.)

We found out the hard way- chickens don't like their coop all lit up.  When we moved the "snow birds"  back to their winter home from their Florida-like Hoop/Coop, egg production dropped a bit and then we kept finding half eaten eggs in the nests.  I've never had this problem before and couldn't figure out exactly who the culprit(s) were and why- (given that they are extremely well fed with yummy greens to boot), they would eat their eggs!  When they entered their summer home, I thought it best to do some spring cleaning and open up all the doors and windows to the fresh sunshine and breeze!  I took down window and door coverings, turned their laying boxes to face the doors and loaded the cubby holes with extra sweet smelling hay- nice, dry and sunshine!  The stress from the move, their dark hay-bale shelter from the hoop coop was no more, and they proceeded to be like cannibals and eat their own eggs.  (I have noticed as well that it is the chickens who are not laying, the ones with the bright yellow legs, as opposed to the hens with the bleached-out ones, who are the culprits a/k/a soon-to be-Sunday-dinner...)
So, quite by accident the Big Fish was inside the coop, turned the boxes to the wall so he could set a trap and catch the egg eaters one at a time with the only available laying box to the other gals.
Low and behold...a funny thing happened.  When I went to check for eggs, which became a very frequent endeavor as I didn't want to leave free lunches laying around...I heard a fuss coming from the boxes.  My head said don't stick your hand in there, weasel or snake or worse?????!  Like a fool who smells the milk carton even though it expired a month ago- I wiggled my hand down in there anyway.  Two hens were sitting on top of each other with six or so eggs underneath them!
There was only enough room to barely slip a fat hen through between the wall and the box, but by golly- my Houdini hens did it and we have had no more problems.

Egg production is up and consistent, egg eaters are blind in the dark and I have learned a most important lesson-

It is not always in sunshine that we do our best production.  Sometimes it is the dark places we find ourselves in that bring about the restorative balance most needed for a fresh new start.

Another chicken analogy brought to you by a true wonder...and a happy ecstatic egg collector! Take care-

And we who see

Unlearned Lesson

Memorial Day

Of every year

The little valiant

Flags appear

On every fallen

Soldier's grave--

Symbol of what

Each died to save.

And we who see

And still have breath--

Are we no wiser

For their death?

~Dorothy Brown Thompson~

The greatest casualty is being forgotten, learn more-

Wounded Warrior Project

What makes for a vital life?

Well...
Rain.  Wind.  Satellite intact still so I'll write here something of what I've learned from April.
Physical pain lasting too long...such a wimp (I have found out).  Not that pain is intolerable, but my actions to keep it from entering my every moment are.  Yikes.  Horrible way to live, not turning one way for fear of bringing about the jolt and then the spasms.  Makes it hell on this farmer to plant these days.  But still, I find I am happy.  Of course I had to first learn to be that way again or rather- choose it.
I think that's how it works.  Choices we have we don't often choose...to choose.  We simply accept this is the way it's gonna be for a LONG time.  Oh my, how depressing.  Thankfully, I found a wonderful masseuse and pretty wise human being in Lubec Maine.  She really worked me over.  And told me her story.  She chose and chose and chose all her life, never once settling from what I could concur...hers is a vital life.  I feel sometimes I get stuck in whatever the opposite of vital is- perhaps unnecessary would be the best opposition (or worst) to being vital.  So- leaving just a little bit of room now for the pain, I choose instead to notice that it is getting better.  Diminishing, dissipating and not so near darned depressing.
I'm such a physical gal, always have been.  It's been a difficult bumpy ride, trying not to hurt more than necessary.   But I hung with it after visiting that hopeful therapist, because she in fact did give me that more than a rub- hope.  Didn't even realized how much I needed it.  Thank goodness for those sweet champions out there who dole it out thick when we forget just how it's done.

And speaking of champions...perhaps visiting the Veterans Hospital yesterday with the Big Fish really made the choosing hope, vitality over despair and depression much easier.  First there was the fellow who hopped and slid , hopped and slid down the hallway into our waiting room.  On crutches, wearing plaid, suspenders and a gigantic smile.  See...that's the thing that gets me, inspires me- how the heck does he smile?  We thought he just refused to use a wheelchair.  Nope.  "Still got one good leg, the other's fake.  If I sit down, I always wonder if I'm going to get up...and I always do."  Smile.  I just sat there but everything in me wanted to bolt from my chair and hug him, thank him...for being so sunny when clearly, it rained often for him.

And then sitting again (one does alot of sitting in those clinics- but only because so many are being served, so it is an honor to just sit and wait with the best of them....) in the pharmacy waiting for the Big Fishes RX.  Wheels, I heard them before I saw them- they whisked like push, slide- push ,slide as his hands did the work his legs used to.  On the wheels was a man, gray headed and bearded, thin yet lovely in a graceful way.  I know...odd description, but I was taken with his beauty.  He shined.  On me.  Looked right at me for what seemed too long, I looked down- then up again and the smile just grew gentler.
Pleased to make your acquaintance.
Yours too.
Off he rolled, lovely as ever though never would he walk again.  It only seemed to make him more beautiful and almost, I swear- almost out of doors, he talked so much with those hands and arms I wondered- could he fly?  He saw me looking through the large plate glass window at him, almost as if he knew I was taking him and his every move into consideration.  Again, that lovely smile towards me and then finally out, into the world.
What makes for a vital life?  Do you know?  Can you add anything to your own or others that might bring that vitality about?
I aim to get right on it after this post.  My own life needs shined up a bit.  So that others might see in me that same kind of beauty, vitality- like the man on the wheels who made me believe he just might fly some day.
Take care-

unfolding the green

Earth, my dearest, I will. Oh believe me, no more

of your springtimes are needed to win me over--, one,

ah, a single one, is already too much for my blood!  Rainier Maria Rilke

Cool blue morning-North Conway, NH

 Are you still visiting this all too often quiet blog?  It is a reflection of it's owner as I have been pretty quiet and consciously busy.  Not in a rip roaring way but in a steady kind of pace, following the seedlings.  I've had a post whiplash headache, every morning I wake up and hope it's gone.  Still here, but getting softer, more tolerable.  It's making me patient.  I hate that.  Who wants to be patient?!  The new plants require it.  The day to day weather of my Downeast home site teaches it most thoroughly...so, I can put up a fuss and be beside my self with worry or I can simply enjoy this pace as I know too well how quickly it will pick up.

Cute kid

 A friend called upon me last week to visit another friend's farm with her, see the new faces there.  Before I left, the Big Fish was adamant...and really pretty hasty with his command- "NO GOATS!"
Goats?  Who said anything about goats dear man, I was only going to go and see, take pics and revel in the sunshine.  Pee-shaw- goats, isn't he silly?!  (I'm working on him, believe you me....)

Irving, do you hear that??
Maude, you're driving me insane- it's too early I tell you!

 And, Moosehorn Wildlife Refuge requires my utmost attention these days...the eagles are patiently waiting, I often find both of them on the nest as of late.  I neglect to bring my tripod, although the camera is always ready to take these fuzzy but telling shots.

First volunteer of Spring

 There is still snow in our woods, I can see it from the deck- although that doesn't seem to stop the little volunteers from flowering, what a happy sight to see!

Pussy Willows~fuzzy jewels of Spring

 I remember back in Illinois trying to get these things to grow in my woodlot.  No such luck, ever.  Here in Maine- pussy willows grow everywhere and in New Hampshire too as this is where I took this photo on a recent hike.

Seed Shack getting a bit crowded

 I love my seed shack.  I'm like a little kid, having to be called in to supper about nine times!  The only reason there is a post today- ran out of transplanting pots...

Spring brook in banks of snow

And finally, something new my eyes have to adjust to, time and time again- more awe.  Traveling the woods- walking, trudging sometimes through snow then mud, sometimes bogs that aren't quite at their boggy best yet...then to come upon a spring-fed brook, further into the season than it's banks.  Even the trees are slowly, gently- all along it's borders, unfolding the green while the snow and ice retreat, little by little backing away until winter cries surrender and spring triumphantly takes the crown of the season.

Right now, as I type this...and it is a wonder that the satellite holds as it is spitting little frozen icy balls outside, I still feel Springs tightening grip around the throat of winter.  Last week, it was foggy weeping for the old man, this week- the last tantrum?  an icy mix..

"..blow north wind, ice come raining down- today, I'm breaking the waves...tomorrow maybe too."

Here's to spring and sunshine.  Let the winter ways pass, I am ready for IT!

Take care~

that eternal bubbling

A heavy crop of snow.
Once again the blog is the last thing on my mind, but I do want you to know that as I wander and work, my camera is always with me.  I capture this and that with the good intention of turning it into a blog post.  For instance, this pic is from my walk on Saturday morning- after Mother Nature thought it would be cute to dump 14 inches of snow on us as an April Fool's joke.  This poor little guy wasn't laughing-

A mighty little force of nature.

He was on my trail, in a rut as deep as a railroad tie- how something so fragile, so tiny could survive a snow storm in Maine and remain intact is another great mystery I hope I never solve.  I picked him up quite gingerly, my heart sank as I figured he was as good as dead- but apparently the warmth of my hand was all he needed to revive.  I placed him inside my coat and turned around early from my walk- I needed to get this little fellow into my warm seed shack until Spring really came for him.  Just as I rounded the bend on the lane, up and out he fluttered- to an old dead Birch tree near my mailbox- maybe the loosened bark on that tree would serve a cocoon like purpose.  It still amazed me, the whole small experience of finding a butterfly in April in Maine in a foot of snow....

Raised beds in the hoop house- snow bank outside.

And those seeds started in the seed shack in March in Maine are now doing quite well.  We have 31 flats started and are fixing to start about 20 more if I can make more room.  The Asian greens are already to be put into a colder climate as well as some turnips I started- I know, I know but I can't help my self.  I'm a Midwesterner by birth and now is the time to plant this stuff!  Last year at a market I sell at, some folks thought I was a witch or something- bringing greens and radishes to fruit too early for mere mortals- nah, I just don't know any better.   What's a little snow or frost- that's what they make plastic blankets and straw for.                                                                                                                                                           

I haven't had the best of luck recently- on a beautiful perfect day I wrecked my truck.  Blueberry pie went flying, accelerator had a mind of it's own and frost heaves in the road set it all in motion.  I hurt my pride and my shoulder but all else worked out.  Although- take this to heart and heed it from someone who wished they had.- 

If you get a recall on your vehicle- do as it says.  I just received mine in the mail two days prior to the accident- it encouraged me to remove the floor mat- this encouragement I did not read until after the wreck.  If only...

Well, that's just about it in a nutshell- seeds are started, more work to do there.  Snow is covering this lovely land but surely will recede soon when the temps hit the 50 mark, as they are rumored to do come midweek.

Guineas do not like the white stuff.

I hope your Spring is bringing that eternal bubbling about in your veins, may you feel looser, may you be free to wander and wonder at the small things bursting through the earth just at your feet.  Something in that tiny stem excavates a person's soul from the deep, cold trenches of winter- the thaw begins as light reaches in and all is made anew once more.  

Take care-