Years ago, whoever farmed this land built a wall of sorts to protect the bank of this small, spring-fed creek and an old, stone lined farm well that once stood nearby. In time, the stones tumbled and many washed away or were taken for use elsewhere. The section that still stands does its job well,
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A couple weeks ago, we got three dump truck loads of gravel for driveway repairs. Two loads were base rock, which packs well, but doesn’t slide out of the dump truck so evenly. With the genius husband away for a few days, I had two choices. Let him level the mess when he got back. Or do it
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Someone asked me recently how many chickens I have. I could only guess. In winter, I take a nightly headcount of all the birds during evening chores. Now? A headcount is practically impossible with so many free-ranging chickens, ducks, turkeys, and guineas loose. During the day they’re all out and about doing bird things. At
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I’m guest blogging today over at Farm Bell Recipes at Chickens in the Road. Click over, if you like, and let me know what you think.
On rare mornings a mist spills evenly across the land to soften the sun’s rays. On these mornings, the heavy dew would soak you to the waist if you wandered across that ungrazed pasture. In the stillness, you hear the familiar sounds of birds twittering from hidden perches – meadowlarks, red-winged blackbirds, an indigo bunting. Cows moo in the
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Disposing of old, rusty barbed wire can be a problem. If you have an old farm with weathered fences and decades-old wire, it’s something that must be figured out. Yard art wouldn’t have been my first thought, but who am I to criticize someone who had the patience and fortitude to create this big ball
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My favorite snow pea recipe isn’t much of a recipe. I like them best fresh picked while I’m standing in the middle of the garden. I like them steamed, too, and in stir-fry dishes. My favorite recipe, though, is Snow Peas with Caramelized Onions. It’s a flexible recipe, more of a general way of cooking
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Garden photography has its challenges, not the least of which is the light. Golden sunlight at dawn and dusk turns everything a rich, warm tone, which is lovely
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I goofed. This strange mismatch is completely my fault. A few weeks ago, I swiped all the eggs from beneath the nesting turkey hens. Why? Our turkeys have a terrible track record as parents. They’re dedicated nesters and brooders, and they’ll defend their brood with surprising ferocity. They just can’t seem to raise them to
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A sunny day after so much rain, after so many gray days, is a gift that shouldn’t be wasted. A dozen chores awaited, but so did the sunshine. There were skies to watch, clouds to study, reflections to ponder. So I played hooky for a while in the back pasture. I watched feathers and leaves float
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