Archives for category: country living

Earth Day Sale

A.V. Walters

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to rain on anybody’s parade. But really? I have a little trouble with the whole concept of ethical consumerism. Consumerism is the problem. I cannot celebrate it by putting a positive spin on it.

Sure, when you shop, buy smart. Do your research. Reuse, reduce, recycle. (And don’t forget repair!) I’ve never seen shopping as a leisure activity. I have a nice lifestyle–most of what I buy is food. My main purveyor of non-food items is craigslist. Nothing pleases me more than to find someone else’s cast-offs, repair them and give them new life.

I haven’t seen it yet, but I know it’s coming. I’m bracing myself for the Earth Day Sale–or a two-fer-one, or all-you-can-eat Earth Day restaurant coupon.

In the meantime, it’s Earth Day. Go outside. Pick up some litter–and make sure that you recycle it. I’m getting ready for our annual tree planting extravaganza. But today I’m doing bee events. Let’s all raise awareness of our precarious place on the planet and our individual, and singular role is setting things right.

Save the bees.

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My Favorite Kind of Snow–

A.V. Walters–

It was my favorite kind of snow, when I was a kid. Most kids like the sticky stuff, good for snowballs and snowmen. I loved the wind driven dry snow–small flakes pressure blasted into elaborate drifts. You could use the edge of your mittened hand as a saw, and cut blocks of snow, that you could then stack, carefully, as bricks for building forts. Sometimes, only the surface of the snow would have the necessary rigidity. But a really stiff wind could provide almost igloo-like blocks. Sure, you could build a snow fort out of the sticky stuff, but that was too easy. It yielded a rounded, lumpy wall, not the crisp, architectural look of a snow block wall. Of course, you could always take the snow shovel to a sticky-snow wall, and scrape it into a smooth surface. You could even spray it–and turn it to an ice wall. These are the ideas that kids have about permanence. Your fort could last weeks, or longer. It could be impervious to attack, from other kids–a true fortress.

We are having a late season blizzard. Yesterday, after hours and hours of a howling wind and driving snow, we had a break in the storm. The day was like a survey course in types of snow–from pea-sized snow chunks, to quarter-sized soft, lofty flakes–with every configuration in between. The forecast promised a warming trend and freezing rain today, so we took advantage of yesterday’s respite to clear the entries, the driveway and some of the paths. It was eight inches of lovely, wind-driven snow. If we waited, we risked having a driveway and walking paths of eight inches of iced, wind-driven snow.

Rick fired up the Kubota for the driveway and I used the snow shovel around the car, and for the narrower paths and entry areas. If I’d had more time, I’d have built a fort. As it was, I could cut large blocks of relatively light, but rigid snow, which I could then scoop up, and toss some distance. It was fun. Of course, that method entails a lot more lifting than just scooping, but there is a certain satisfaction in those carved-out, crisp and orderly edges. In just under two hours, we’d finished up nicely–not bad, considering that the driveway is 400 feet. Thank god for the snowblower.

After we’d dusted off and come in to warm up in front of the fire, the storm resumed in full force. The winds, screaming through the trees, commanded our attention. We’d wander from window to window, peeking out, to watch the driving winds filling in our neatly carved perimeter. The oil lamps were set out; we expected outages.

It has not warmed up. The forecast was wrong about the winter-mix and freezing rain. What we have today is wind, with more snow and dry sleet. I’d go shovel again, but that sleet looks painful. Even if it would be cool to see how that new snow carves up under the edge of the shovel blade, I value my creature comforts. It can wait.

My father, my snow-shoveling mentor, would not have approved. Though he’d wait out a squall, his snow-shoveling principles required that access, and a clear vehicle, had to be maintained. What if there were an emergency? I fall short of that mark. But then, he had a short driveway and a garage.

Even the critters are hunkering down for the storm. Lately, we’ve been amazed at the variety–deer (of course), squirrels, chipmunks, turkeys, blue jays, robins, eagles, sandhill cranes, raccoons–all either directly visible, or leaving easily identifiable tracks. They’re gone now. The only animals to brave the storm have been the grouse. Even in sleet and strong winds, the grouse are clinging to the thin branches of the Black Cherry trees, swinging in the wind, and nibbling at the buds. They are either very hardy, or very hungry.

I’m getting old. Too often now, my favorite kind of snow, is the stuff that makes up the view out the window. Maybe it’s just been a long winter.

Spring? A.V. Walters–

Don’t get me wrong, I love winter. But we’re nearly halfway through April. We’re having a blizzard. There’s no point in posting a picture–it’s all just white. In less than a week, 100 or so trees will arrive for planting. They ship on a schedule rooted in season. Sigh.

I’m ready for sunshine, and the smell of fresh dirt, and bees, and watching the tiny new leaves on the trees.

I’m eternally grateful for a snug new home, and a lovely fire in the wood stove. But Spring! Is it too much to hope for?

Break out the snow shoes. Who said anything about Spring? It is beautiful, though.

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We woke up to another six inches. It’s spring snow, sticky and heavy.

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And still falling…

It changes how you look at the day. (And makes adjustments to your schedule.) No gardening today!

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Our work is cut out for us. Oops—forgot to cover the tractor after clearing yesterday. I guess that’s where we start.

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I am so behind the curve. I saw the ads, but didn’t realize it was a new thing. In the world of gadgets with plugs, I am oblivious. I do own a crock pot–but we use it exclusively for processing honey and beeswax. So when my friends all began to rave over insta-pots, I had no idea what that was about.

Turns out it braises, simmers, boils, even pressure cooks. And it’s programmable. Who knew?

You still have to chop and stir. You still have to plan the meal and have the ingredients. I just don’t see its charms.

I have one of these.

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It braises, simmers, boils, bakes and even pressure cooks. It has timers and other gadgets. It is not, to my knowledge, programmable. But I am.

Connecting the Dots…

A.V. Walters–

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As I washed the dishes this morning, I glanced out and was taken aback at the sudden increase in bunny scat, dotting the landscape. Was there some kind of a bunny event? Then it dawned on me. We’re experiencing a winter heat wave. Everything is melting. This is not an overnight accumulation; this is a mid-winter exposé. By observing the accumulated droppings, we can actually map the bunnies’ trails and activities. Funny how a turn in the weather can reveal what’s been going on, all along.

Like yesterday, today will reach 50 degrees Fahrenheit, before a wave of unseasonable rain and fog heralds in the next cold front, dropping us back into the low double digits tonight. Then, Winter, having taken a breather, will return in full force. Tomorrow will be an icy, slippery mess.

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We took the opportunity to check on the bees. The snowy caps on their hives, so pronounced just three days ago, are gone. When winter temperatures reach the high forties, bees will fly. I doesn’t matter that there’s nothing to eat or gather. Supposedly, bees are loathe to soil their hives, so the warm weather gives them the opportunity to take a “cleansing flight.” Often it doesn’t go so well…it really isn’t warm enough for them. The snow around our hives is dotted with dead bees. It’s a good news/bad news conundrum—proof that our hives are still alive, but learning that came at a cost. I wish those intrepid bees would stay put in their clusters. This erratic weather, glimpses of climate change, is really hard on the bees.

Tomorrow it will snow again, covering the bunny scat and the unlucky bees. We’ll descend back into winter, a little wiser for having connected the dots.

 

 

Finding Rhythms

Any time you make a major change, it takes a while before you find your “sea legs.” We’ve been here just over a fortnight, and certain things are falling into place. Granted many of our new patterns are as much about season, as they are about location.

I’m one to dally in the morning, enjoying the warmth of the covers and planning my day. Rick is up and about, almost as soon as his eyes are open. He’s taken to grinding and making the coffee–a pattern that started even before we moved. Now though, he uses the time it takes for the water to boil to tidy the woodstove and start the fire. Somedays that requires a full shoveling of ashes and cleaning the glass. And sometimes, he just stacks the kindling on the embers still left from the night before.

We do not build roaring fires. So far we haven’t had weather cold enough to warrant more than a solid ember bed and a log or two. If we pushed this stove to capacity, we’d have to open the windows. It’s nice to know that all that insulating was for good purpose. It’s easy to heat this little house with wood. We have back-up heat–both propane and electric, but mostly that’s reserved for if we are not at home.

By the time I get up, the fire has started and there’s coffee in the carafe. I am spoiled.

Our days are ordered by the weather. A light snow you can ignore. A medium accumulation will require some hand shoveling of the paths and parking area. There are paths to the garden, the compost, the woodpile and around the house and parking area. And then, somedays you get up and the biggest task of the day will be snow removal. Rick does the bulk of it. He’s the one on the tractor with the snowblower–after all, it is 400 feet of driveway. For a heavy snow, I’ll suit up and do the hand shoveling. It’s a workout that we both enjoy. We have a lifestyle that includes a regular upper body workout, as a matter of course.

About once a week, a little more often if it’s cold, I fill the wood crib from the wood pile out back. The crib is a brick enclosure built into the retaining wall at the basement level. It lets us keep our firewood stock just a step out the door. The area is sheltered by the front porch, and keeps the wood dry and at hand. The larger wood pile is about forty feet behind the house, back up in the pines, generously covered with tarps to keep the wood dry. It takes four heaping wheel barrows to fill the wood crib. At some point in the future, we’ll build a wood shed to keep our heating supply dry and snow-free.

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We enjoy being out in the snow. We watch the tracks to see who else is enjoying our home. Rabbits (of course), and deer (more than we first thought) are the most frequent visitors. There are squirrels, chipmunks, and a couple of kinds of ground squirrels–mostly we see their tracks. In the New Year, we’ll resume our regular walks. They fell by the wayside in the past few months of building. It’s time to get back into it.

By mid-day, most of the maintenance chores are complete and we can turn our attentions to working on the house, or, for me, sitting at the computer and working. Evenings, we read, write, play Scrabble, or grouse about current events. Things will be much busier once Spring rolls around. For now we are enjoying the peace and quiet of the season.

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And the next morning, we can start, all over again.