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Standing in line
To see the show tonight
And there’s a light on
A little light a-shinin’ through the window
Let’s me know everything’s all right
Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind.
–Seals & Croft
For those in the know:
I just realized
the strange 2 a.m. lightshows
could only be the faeries.
Magic is afoot in the forest.
Mr. Tree woke to show his face
and even now,
at this late hour,
there is much fanfare.
The frogs are festooned with flowers
and the Invisible Conductor
directs their concert.
So many voices
lift and fall
in rhythmic waves.
High trills and chirps,
and the bass notes of the bullies,
more felt than heard.
I swam through this sea of sound,
and coming up
to breathe the thick, green air
that smelled of life and death
and everything in between.
El-D took issue with last week’s post in which I highlighted the rationale behind “His & Hers” seedlings.
It seems I got something wrong.
Apparently, this happens a lot.
I confess, not too long ago I wrote about his awesome Amish Friendship Rolls. Afterwards, Dear Readers, I was informed that I had deceived you. Please realize this wasn’t an intentional deceit. He made Amish Friendship Bread the week before the roll incident. I saw warm steam rising from fresh baked goods and I went crazy. In my feeding frenzy I shouted the good news of great joy from my bloggy version of the highest mountain.
Except I shouted it all wrong.
They were yeast rolls people. YEAST ROLLS!
I’m sorry if the error offends your sensibilities.
And here I stand wrong again.
El-D does not, in fact, require “an intricate mix of dirt samples taken from various points in the yard.”
During the chaos of moving somehow this detail managed to escape my radar.
That means that all last summer as I was writing about stuff like the practice of letting go, I had no idea the dirt from my former life had followed me to this one.
When I heard this I had a momentary existential crisis: Is my whole life a lie?
Then after meditating on it awhile I recalled the words of a great yogi:
I have affixed to me the dust and dirt of countless ages…who am I to disturb history?
…and now I’m happily back to everything being right-wrong.
I started a garden journal this week to help me learn the names of everything blooming in the yard so I can get a sense of when, where, and what action is happening.
I had no idea the crab apple trees offered a double feature — white flowers in April, little red apples in August.
I have finally managed to capture photo evidence of my “pterodactyl.” Granted, the heron is not particularly lizard-like, but he’s huge and prehistoric-looking, which has earned him the name “Pterry.” Pterry often visits the yard outside my office window in the morning. The feathered fiend tends to emerge in slow motion into my peripheral vision while I am busily typing at something. As soon as I make a move for the camera he stretches his gigantic wings and flaps about 10 times before managing to lift his forever long legs off the ground. The sight is so mesmerizing I usually forget I’m holding a camera as I watch him. When I finally remember to snap pictures, they turn out about as fuzzy as a dream in fading memory.
The other day I spotted Pterry wandering near the koi pond. Nickel and I both went stalking after him. I’m not sure what Nickel was thinking – the bird is nearly as tall as I am. So far this is the best picture I’ve snapped of Pterry. I am hoping he stays away from the koi.
A couple days ago I also captured a picture of my first noncaptive raccoon. He was wandering around the neighbor’s front yard. In this picture he was looking for the source of the all the kissing and whistling sounds.
We have a new fence! The Angry Russian made it curvy and El-D hand-cut every one of the 134 pickets.
To celebrate its completion, Lady Bug (Nilla Bean’s sister) came over last week for a play date with Moon Pie. They romped around all day and wore each other out.
Last weekend we planted wave one of the seedlings – his and hers:
Why his and hers?
Because things must be done a certain way.
He prefers little cups he can write on with a sharpie.
She wanted to reuse the 2-liter bottles before sending them to be recycled.
He requires an intricate mix of dirt samples taken from various points in the yard.
She’s good with store bought potting soil mixed with a bit of compost.
He wanted squash, okra, and tomatos.
She is more interested in growing radishes, herbs, and flowers.
He likes to plant any old seed packet from years gone by.
She likes heirlooms and fancy things.
Only one week later, things are already sprouting: squash, marigolds, petunias, radishes, and beans.
Ours is a little farm in the making. Bit by bit we’re unpacking, cleaning, rennovating, and planting.
I’m so grateful for all the help we’ve had. Work has never been so fun. Friday morning the doorbell rang unexpectedly at 8 a.m. – and the day began with women doing messy yardwork to the beat of thunder in a warm summer rain. It was the best Friday morning I can remember in almost forever.
Saturday friends and family came to warm and bless our new home with their presence. It was a wonderful day full of fun, smiles, and surprises. And now we have even more to plant! There were so many unexpected gifts.
Once everything is placed, planted, and photographed I will assault you with pictures. For now, here are a few scenes from the weekend’s festivities…
Lisa, Lisa, Dave and Dave warmed the farm with a few feathered friends…
Folks at the farmwarming party took it upon themselves to name the duckies: P. King is the fella in the water, P. Queen is the one standing across from him, head cocked at a jaunty angle. Kiki and Hiram are the brown feathered couple in the background.
Eventually, the place will be filled with Goaty Goodness — Beady Boop got me started with goat fence. Another friend is determined to give me a pig she can train in the name of science (as soon as we convince The Devil it’s a good idea…)
The Angry Russian spent the day installing tile in the cottage. Four friends fought over who would get to hire him next.
“You could totally start a business called Rent a Daddy” one said.
“…or Pimp My Dad” said another.
I told them all they’d better back up off my dad — he has to finish my cottage first!
Mike found the Devil in the livingroom with his conservative grandmother, parents and aunt. “Here’s a little something for tonight….” he said with a sly smile and wink as he presented the Devil with a gift in a Victoria Secrets bag. It was a DVD of The Money Pit. So appropriate!
Thanks to everyone for making my home and weekend so happy!