Friday, October 19, 2012

{this moment}


A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

:: Inspired by Soule Mama ::

If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments, for all to find and see.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Goat Morning

This was the post-storm sky that greeted us, last week. Such a beautiful sight to wake to. Good morning, eastern hills, and rising sun.

Also rising, Tasha Tudor Goat and Ada Lovelace Goat. Goat morning, dear, funny ones.

They sleep, safe and secure, in this dog kennel. I've been trying to gauge how adequate this will be when winter finally does arrive. It will come, won't it? It's not easy assessing just how cold it will be, when it will be cold. We enjoy temperate, coastal seasons, but we are subject to little micro-climates, pockets of weather, and weather extremes... nothing lasts, so one day it feels like summer, then we get cold and damp days, then heat again. This morning, after sleeping in the open barn, Max said it was far too hot for even a bed sheet.

Until we've shared a winter, or two, with our dear goats, I'll just remain flexible, and try to learn as much as I can from savvier farmers, like Terry. Pip and Caper are lucky to be in her capable care.

Sigh

I love our view.
The big sky, and the ever changing atmosphere.
Today is supposed to be cooler, and wind gusts are in the forecast.
I think of all the fallen leaves we'll be able to bring to the goats, the comfortable walking temperatures we will enjoy.

How are your mornings? Are you winterizing, or just daydreaming, like me?

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Busy Bees

Sunshine and a busy bee! There was a crazy hair day at school, so Maria asked if we could bring back the beehive updo, like Maria wore when she was BeeWoman!

We even had a couple of little pipe-cleaner bees to buzz around her hive.

Next up: Crazy Socks Day, and Favorite Hat Day!

You know, most school day mornings feel like Crazy Socks Day, when I find five red socks... but none of them actually match, or ten socks, each unique in size, color, and style. If they want crazy, I am gonna nail this one!

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Other Scary Things...

I am freshly loaded up with hot tea, raisiny toast, and all of your thoughtful get well wishes. Recovery is in sight! So, rather than regale you with the scary details of my bug... I thought I'd walk you through the Safe Zone!

The Safe Zone is where my children prepared to host their friends for the season premiere of a certain Zombie-Dead-Apocalypse-Walking-Gross-Drama... it is seriously disgusting and creepy, and full of characters, dead and otherwise, who convince you that either you would want them in your safe house, or that they are utterly dense, deplorable, and disposable. Yes, much drama. Only utter Carl's name to fans of the show, and you'll see what I mean.

*Parenting note: The youngest child, of any large family, will never ever, ever be as coddled, sheltered, or spared as the siblings who came before her. She will see monsters, and hear tales, and know the three main tactics of defense against vampires, rebel robots, and zombies. Maria is no less precious, no less protected and respected, but she has big brothers, and the big brothers have friends, and honestly... zombies are hard to contain!! She does not watch this television program. No way. No how. But, our darling girl knows a thing or two... somehow or another...

Welcome to our Safe Zone.

Shhhh... in spite of all the rotty bits, apparently zombies have terrific hearing.

The windows are covered. Feeling shut in, yet?

Plenty of reading material, but only one gas mask.

Seeds. Good thinking.

In fact there is actually a great deal of good thinking in organizing a Safe Zone. Substitute "zombie" with "earthquake," or "tornado", and you'll soon realize that ample fresh water, first aid, food stores, shelter, tools, a home garden, ingenuity, resourceful-diy intelligence... they make a world of difference to surviving any natural, or unnatural, disaster.

Sweet skills, and common sense. It's gonna be that easy.

They tuned the radio to static... no one's out there! The lights were out... and we fumbled around by the light of (l.e.d.) candles. If it comes to depending on SPAM... I shudder at the horror!

Yeah. My office. I think I'll keep the sign.

Just to add to the realism, our oven died. Again! Again. Pardon me. I need a moment. Last time it took nearly three months to bring the darn thing back to life. Last time it was at the start of the holidays... Thanksgiving, birthdays, class parties, Christmas! No baking! No roasting! Crying... pitiful, sad crying...

Max brought out his Nerf arsenal. Maria made targets. Ah, art. How darling of her to illustrate and hang... whoa! Gah! Blarghh... Maria! These are bugusting!

There's no point, she only laughs, proudly, then aims and takes fire.

I call this guy Drip.


This is Fangs. Looks twitchy.

Maria's a good shot. She told me how to hold the Nerf, and where the sight is... I got Drip right in the cranium.

Oh!
Cheese wiz.
This isn't one of the target zombies.
Someone must have sketched me while I was napping, during my pitiful, moaning, and writhing phase. It is, unfortunately, a good likeness. I feel this hideous.

The party-ers arrived and feasted, and took at aim at villainous foes, and watched some gross shows. And from upstairs, where Maria and I watched Public Television, and snuggled, it seemed like a pretty good time!



Sunday, October 14, 2012

Quiet Sunday

Flora, my embroidered, and appliqued chica, with a button eye.

Flora and I are the only quiet ones today. Our real life, feathered chicas are clucking and laying, and dust-bathing. Our lady goats are making their regular, happy noises (Oops, and apparently escaping, too!) And all of the other bipeds are cleaning! Dishes are being washed, surfaces cleared, laundry shuffled, papers sorted, stuff dusted. It is a flurry. A wondrous, good flurry.

And in the midst of all of this domestic domesticity, I am sick.

Without the least hint of a symptom to warn me, I am suddenly knocked flat, with no voice, a painful-gross cough, chills, aches, fever.

Swift & Sudden Sickness Delivery!
They rang the doorbell, I answered, and blam!

Sickness. Is it ever good timing? Not likely.
I already protested, indignantly declaring this Inconceivable!
But that made no difference.
So, now I am at the resigned phase, trying to cover my bases, and anticipate any necessary adjustments.

Coming soon... the pitiful, writhing and moaning phase!
Look away!

We happen to be hosting a zombie party tonight, for a certain televised season opener, but this is something the boys have well under control. They're decorating, cleaning, preparing, fortifying, and arming themselves for a scary good time. Maria and I will stick with the same plan we had all along: Hide upstairs! We'll have a stack of good story books, hot tea for me, and cookies and milk for her.

And now, I am going to take my first cup of hot tea, my VapoRub, and Flora, and crawl back into bed, for my quiet Sunday.