Monday, March 29, 2021
Some Prettiness
Yesterday, on our bike ride, I saw a small patch of daffodils, growing in the nearly wild spot, my bit of forest. They are the small flower head kind that make me think of the French name, jonquille, with deep yellow saucers and yolk-orange cups. It's always in the middle of spring that I remember that I do like spring. Fall is my favorite season, and spring always comes last in mind, but that's a pity. It's a pity that in the Fall, when I am in love with crunching leaves beneath my boots, and bringing home too many pumpkins, I cannot be bothered with planting bulbs for spring. I don't want to imagine there will ever be any season but the home season, the brisk weather, and calm evenings season, with warm colors, and softening light. When I saw those few jonquilles, I felt a sharp pang of regret. It's spring now, and I wish I had planted daffodils and grape hyacinth, freesia, ranunculus. I wish we had wisteria coming into bloom, and a trellis for my Cécile Brünner roses. I even admit that I regret buying too many pumpkins... no, maybe not that. Maybe, because I have confessed my contrition, next Spring little daffodils and some grape hyacinth will pop up in our garden, because this Fall I will have saved some room in my Autumn dazzled head for Spring, and will plant those bulbs.
And now for a Liberty report! And another admission, from me: Around October I noticed our dear old hen was doing poorly, and by December I was practically composing her eulogy in my head. She limped, walked in circles, her comb was pale, she even lost her balance and rolled over. I am one of those weak kneed farmers that has never actually culled a chicken, which I know can be a merciful thing. I spared Kamen, after the bobcat shredded her, which, thankfully, turned out to be the right choice. I gave Liberty affection, private space to eat, and extra helpings of treats. I lifted her to the roost, and I brought her in the house during inclement weather. And I kind of held my breath, knowing it could be any day. But, I was wrong, or maybe the doting helped. Because it's late March and she's walking fine, roosting, again, and practically spry for an ol' girl! The other night when all the hens came for evening treats, I saw Liberty already roosting, and knowing what an effort it takes for her to get up there, I decided to pamper her, some more, and I brought her snacks to her. She is, and always has been a favorite hen. Gosh, it's hard loving pets, and caring for them, knowing that sooner or later, we will lose them... and so, it's one of the delights of being a farmer to dote, and comfort, when I can.
About that bee... he, too, was looking sapped and poorly, when Cairo and I found him clinging to the balcony screen. I brushed some honey water where he could drink it, and the little guy lapped it all up, then rallied. And I got to make another Reel for Instagram, which I enjoy doing.
There is lots more to share, like a visit with Ruth, and progress with embroidery. I'll save for those another post, because we are out of milk and bread and cheese, and clean socks. Happy as I am to sit here and revel in all the prettiness, I suppose I should rally! Happy Monday, friends.
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9 comments:
You made me laugh, about buying too many pumpkins. I bought too many pumpkin *seeds* last fall, I was so in love with pumpkins. Now in spring I am wondering about where to plant the starts in a month!
I enjoyed each and every image of growing things.. my favorite is the close-up of the round one.. onion flower? Spring is my favorite season as I love seeing the lilacs bloom and all the other flowers, too. ((hugs)), Teresa :-)
Oh, GretchenJoanna, I don't want to admit it, but every Easter, I am forced to face my weakness, as I am cleaning up one, or more, rotted pumpkins! Every. Single. Year... one, or more, pumpkins revolts on me, and I discover a horrible, smelly mess! Then I vow to reform. Then comes October, and I am utterly convinced I need one more, and another! And, I totally get the too many seeds crisis. And how are we supposed to resist? Must have Jack-O-Lanterns, must have the teeny decorative kind, must have the ones meant for baking! So, which ones have you started? And have you figured out where they're going to go?
I'm afraid I will have to remove a couple of my lavender plants that aren't thriving and never have since being planted five years ago. The pumpkin plants will have to trail along the walking paths, which could be a problem!! And I will have to water them by hand because the garden mostly is very low-water... It's an "experiment" that I've already vowed not to repeat again. But I "have to" try.
The butternut and maybe the little pie pumpkins I can train on to the trellis that is by the box that is on automatic watering. But the big ones that have "Rouge" in their name... they will be the challenge.
"Rouge," I think I have seen in the market... don't they look kind of more heirloom-rustic and get a very red-orange? I love that there are so many varieties. There are many more options than I remember seeing as a child. Good luck with the hand watering. It always feels like such a soothing and romantic choice in late spring, but when a heat wave comes through, it gets kind of brutal!
Yes and yes!
Your willingness to love and cherish while knowing the inevitable and vulnerable reality of the grief of loss... It's one of the many things that make you an exceptional human.
Love all your photos, Natalie.
Thank you, Janece. Don't you find it familiar and compelling how anyone that loves a pet, when they have lost their dear, expresses that bittersweet struggle? It's so universal, and brings out so much empathy and caring from people... we all recognize the joy and unconditional affection we have for our cats, dogs, lizards, and chickens, and then the inevitable heartache, and for a moment it's impossible to imagine trying again, but we do! It's an honor, a privilege, being another one of the exceptional humans, like you... we are the lucky ones, and I am always encouraged to find there are so many of us.
I've always felt that bittersweet struggle but it was Tova who really gave me the opportunity to create a deeper emotional awareness and enhanced maturity around grief. I have so much to thank him for - one of which is the process of how to love and grieve deeply but also without as much of the barbed, traumatic pain. It's still pain, exhausting, and horrible... but I allow it to be there, give it the space it needs, and take me where it needs to go. In doing so, it becomes a little more clean and cathartic. It's far from perfect because I still resist and fight - but Tova really was a guide that I'm so grateful for.
And, you are so right about people who are familiar with this. It is an honor and privilege to share our humanity with each other. Those very same people were a part of acknowledging and affirming what I was feeling and allowing me the safe space to grieve. We are the lucky ones.
Thank you for this conversation, Natalie. It is a timely and helpful one for me.
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