The barnyard was full of Fairy Lace this morning… evidence of a well attended and much enjoyed party. Also decorating the barnyard were many lovely spider webs glistening with diamond-like dew drops. Apparently the spiders were invited.
{this moment}
A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a single moment from the week.
A simple, special extraordinary moment.
A moment to pause, savor and remember.
Participating with the SouleMama blog.
Whew… what a weekend. In addition to all our usual chores we… mucked out the barn and spread manure… doctored a yearling stricken by meningeal worm… moved feeders and one of the big shelters… brought the yearlings over to the barn paddock… brush-hogged… mowed down hay…put up temporary fence for a new paddock in the barnyard…and so on… and so on…
We also managed to squeeze in a neighborhood pig roast, a family get together with visiting cousins and a little bit of this…
Aaahhh… summer…
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| Great Aunt Nellie and Grandma Lena family barn built 1900 |
We are so excited to have been working on our old family barn this summer. Terry has been doing some of the work, and we have also had the help of the crew from EcoStructures. When we were growing up it was full of dairy cows and calves. There was a tall silo, a grainary and a pigsty out back. Right now we use it to house most of the hay that we have harvested for the long winter ahead. Five generations of our family have made use of this sturdy shelter. We hope that given a good dose of TLC a couple more will have at least the opportunity to build upon this legacy within its comforting walls. We love this old barn full of friendly ghosts and fond memories.
Our days have been brightened by the beauty of ‘Tickseed’ blooming along our normally shady road. In the evenings especially when the yellow flowers are backlit by the sunset, they seem to glow and almost glimmer. With twilight approaching, they bring to mind one of Grandma’s favorite songs, “In the Gloaming” written in 1877 by Annie F. Harrison.
When I got up this morning guess what I found
Frilly lace doilies all over the ground.
Some call them cobwebs but they are not that to me
They are lace doilies made by the fairies and left there you see.
Frilly lace doilies, oh hasten to see
Frilly lace doilies made especially for me.
Their midsummer social was held on my lawn
They danced by the light of the firefly till dawn
And in their haste to leave before light
They left all their napkins behind in their flight.
Frilly lace doilies that’s what I found.
Frilly lace doilies all over the ground.
I believe they were left there as thanks to me,
For the use of my lawn, I’m Irish you see.
No lovelier lace can be found
Than made by the fairies and left on the ground.
Frilly lace doilies, oh hasten to see
Frilly lace doilies made especially for me.
— by Lena Gertrude Dixon Wiles, our grandmother
Fairy stories were often told to us by our grandmother while we were growing up.
We still believe 🙂
Saturday was weaning day… a day full of lots of noise and confusion. All the ewes’ body conditions were checked, they were scored using the FAMACHA system, then put out the side door and into the paddock below the barn. The lambs were weighed, scored with FAMACHA and kept in the barn until, in a grand exodus, we made our way to the graveyard field.
By Sunday morning, about half the lambs had adjusted well and were moving about the field without a care in the world. However the other half were doing a whole lot of what really can only be described as pouting.
In a few days the lambs will, once again, become quite frisky. There will be plenty of cavorting and romping. They will have developed new friendships and be having a grand time. Lambs will be… lambs.
“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.”
— from Psalm 121
{this moment}
A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a single moment from the week.
A simple, special extraordinary moment.
A moment to pause, savor and remember.
Participating with the SouleMama blog.
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The Weapon – Vas Solum
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The Enemy – Popillia Japonica
Yes, it’s that time of year again. The battle is on with our old garden enemy, the Japanese beetle. One of my early memories of working on the farm, is helping our Grandmother pick Japanese beetles off of the grapevines. We would carefully pick them off the leaves, then put them in the old can that she carried. The can was about half full of kerosene. My weapon of choice is the common glass bottle, which may or may not contain a little soapy water depending upon how much of a rush I am in. It is best to attack early in the morning when the beetles seem to be groggy. If you wait until the temperatures warm up this can become quite the challenge as they are more likely to quickly fly away.
As with most things on the farm, and in life in general, it is not a matter of having time but is really a matter of making time. It is a time to slow down, observe, connect and reminisce – about Grandmother Lena, childhood, farm and family. A quick word of warning… don’t daydream too much, as it becomes quite easy to mistake a bee for a beetle… a painful lesson learned.
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