It’s been a while since I posted.  Life’s been particularly busy this spring . . . and I’ve not been up to the challenge of keeping up with any but the most critical tasks.  Now summer has crept upon me before I’m ready.  That’s how life is sometimes. Here’s a quick update – just the highlights to bring you up to date.


More chicks hatched out.  (Ducklings and turkey poults, too.) 



Lots of flowers bloomed.  (Pictured:  catmint in my herb garden.)



The peas thrived in the kitchen garden, and so did the strawberries and cabbages.  Just about everything else had to be planted late due to heavy spring rain.  (Pictured: Sumo snow peas, blooming in May.)



The sheep are happy about the bumper crop of Dutch white clover.  They still spend their nights in the barn, but most days they graze in or near the orchard, confined by moveable corral panels sized for sheep and goats.   Tiny Lamb isn’t so tiny anymore.  In fact, one might even call her fat.  That white blob on the left is her.  Her legs are still short, but her belly’s plenty round.



I tried to catch up on the mowing around the fallow garden beds, and I got the mower stuck.  Then I got my 4WD truck stuck to the axels while trying to tow the mower out.  Some 5 hours later, after a lot of shoveling of mud and some creative use of the new tractor, the genius husband and I finally freed the pickup.  For the record, he had nothing to do with the getting stuck part.  That was all me.  Sometimes I can be an idiot.  I’d have taken pictures of the process, but I was otherwise occupied and really too thoroughly ticked off to focus the camera anyway.  Plus my trick knee kept . . . playing tricks.  Not the fun kind.



Here’s a view of the ruts from another angle after the rains resumed.  I suspect it’s going to be a while yet before I plant anything there.



In mid-June, I left the farm in the capable care of wonderful neighbors for a long weekend to join friends and family at a historic resort for my daughter’s wedding.  That’s me in the middle, chatting with the bridesmaids at the rehearsal while the bright white brace on my bad knee shouts my status as the official wedding party GIMP.  I wore a different brace under my floor-length dress for the ceremony & reception so I could lose the pirate peg leg walk.  Of course, certain people kept up the pirate jokes.  And certain other people laughed at the granny loafers I wore with that elegant gown.  Truly, that dress deserved better. (B&W photo courtesy of Justen Alexander.)

The ceremony was beautiful, a spans of sweet moments and poignant memories.  This young couple became friends first, and it warms my heart to know that my daughter has married her best friend.  I cried, of course.  The bride’s sister, who was her maid-of-honor, gave a beautiful toast at the reception, and my heart was so full I could barely breathe.  So I cried again, and not alone. 



Here’s a snapshot of the bride & groom near the end of the reception.  The really good pics are up on the pro photographer’s blog now.  Only my hands appear in those, stitching a small brooch into the underskirt of the wedding gown.  It belonged to my grandmother, who spoiled me rotten and died too young.  My daughter asked me a few days before the wedding if she could use that brooch as her ‘something old’ and ‘something borrowed.’ 



Here’s a quick snapshot of the bride with her siblings.  Who knows when I’ll ever see the three of them together, dressed in formalwear?

And now, more time has passed.  I’m back at the farm, immersed in the usual day-to-day rhythms.  I’ve caught up on the missed sleep and the most pressing of the neglected farm chores.  My grandmother’s brooch is safely tucked back in my jewelry chest.  And my heart is full.  Still.