BARN...BRIDGE...BUDDHA



It's that monochromatic time of the year. Lots of gray, brown, white, non-vibrant blue-gray.  There are moments when I long for splashes of color when I step outside, but there is beauty in its absence during these winter months. 

 

So here's the barn during the last snowstorm. The structure has a wonderful history...a wonderful personality....an incredibly useful purpose here at The Farm. It has weathered the years of wind, rain, heat and frigid temps gracefully. Taking direct hits from storms that move in from the west, the ole' girl has stood proudly for over a hundred years. I believe she's one of the oldest, largest barns in the area, and I'd sure give her a makeover in a heartbeat if lottery winnings came my way. 

 

 

 

 

Fog settles on the river frequently; however the morning I took this picture, it hung particularly dense and heavy under the bridge between Marietta and Williamstown.  At one  point, I couldn't discern where the bridge ended and land began.  Perspective and distance were rather redefined, and the fog perfectly held the image of the bridge above it.

 

 

 

 

The Buddha has many faces, and I love that wherever I encounter him, he's wearing his "half-smile." The dude's never in a grouchy mood, and there's a great deal to be said about that - -a consistent reminder to evaluate what's really serious in life.  I find when I do, I eliminate a lot of needless angst while gaining perspective on joy and happiness, despite problematic moments.  This Buddha was sitting on the floor in a local antique store, pretty much out of view. He watched a lot of feet pass by, and still, he smiled his Buddha smile.

 

 

THE WEEK IN REVIEW: FEBRUARY 8 - 15, 2014

 

The Week In Review: I've had a very good week, and I'm a happy me. As I sit at the computer now, snow's swirling outside after an additional 2" fell over night.  Two corgis are playing "I Can Bark Louder than You" at the base of the stairs, and I'm into my second cup of coffee. 

It's silent outside, just the way I love a good snowy morning.....

Here's a summary of the last 7 days:

1. Last Saturday, I met Emma, a sweet, beautiful little red-headed girl whose mom brought her to see Dr. Insecta. Emma, who has some physical and cognitive challenges, liked spiders, and she really liked coming to see Dr. Insecta. Emma touched my heart, as well as Dr. Insecta's. Her photo with Dr. Insecta made it on the Evergreen Arts & Humanities Facebook page!

2. I've witnessed people all over the country respond to a spur-of-the-moment call to help people in WV who need water. Two students, Jake and Kristian, really came through during the project: Jake purchased $50 of water for the cause, saving me from having to do it, and Kristian donated his Friday morning to loading and then unloading almost 700 gallons of water. I love solidarity; I love introducing people to the effectiveness of grass roots activism, and I especially love the idea that people are willing to help others. 

3. Students in my small writing class showed great progress, as well as a willingness to try a rather challenging assignment. I am venturing away from the established syllabus and creating my own approach to instruction in this class.  I firmly believe that when given enough example and encouragement, anyone can learn to write, and by crackies, we're going for it! 

4. I read and re-read the love notes people long ago wrote on Valentines that are now a part of my collection - sweet, sweet expressions of love. The old-fashioned names, like Pearl, Delbert, Tilley, and Lester, bring smiles to my face, as do their flirtatious messages that had to be a little daring for the time! 

5. The corgis and I have had some great play, and I see an improvement in MerryBelle's gimpy leg, thank goodness. Mac is an absolute hoot as he bounces through the drifts.  His coat has thickened by several layers, and the cold is as refreshing to him as air conditioning is to people on a scorching summer day. I'm using the snow as physical therapy for MerryBelle and her lame knees / hips.  She can't run in leaps and bounds in the snow, which is good at this point, but it does provide strength conditioning as she plows her way after Mac.

6. Flocks of bluebirds have greeted me every day as I've driven down the driveway, their blue a beautiful color against the snowy landscape. I really don't recall seeing large quantities of them this early in the year here at the farm,, and I welcome their return.  

7. My orchids are glorious, and my African violets are thriving, despite sitting in the draft of the heating grate. In a couple of weeks, I should have 8 orchids in full bloom.  Today, I'm headed out to bring in the amaryllises for repotting.  I quite behind on bringing them out, I must confess.

8. My family's thriving: Eliza's undergraduate research has been acknowledged in a paper presented in Hiroshima, Japan, and Samuel got word of an impending publication. Nothing brings me more satisfaction than witnessing the lives of my children. Both are thriving at the moment, and for that, I offer a thousand thanks a second to the Universe. Mom, at  95, continues to amaze me--she's healthy, active enough, involved in the lives of those she loves, and spirited (on the borderline of stubborn) in her ideas. What a blessing! 

9. I've really, really enjoyed the snow this winter. Deep within, I associate the feeling to being in Boone as a child during some of our snowy winters. There have been a couple of days when snow sparkles really ignited joy in my heart. For one who has a tendency to plummet during the winter, succumbing to SAD, the snow's bright reflection and the silence/peace  of snowy days at home have made for a peaceful, productive (somewhat) Farm Mom.

10. Knitting needles have been clicking, and yarn has been sliding through my fingers. As evidenced in other aspects of my life, I have several unfinished projects in the works. The older I get, the more I realize I'm prone to begin many projects with undetermined completion times!

The list could go on and on, but I'm eager to get outdoors, feed the birds, check out the lay of the land, and plan my day, which MUST include a bit of cleaning!

Love to all on this day after Valentines!

GREAT BLUE HERON CONNECTION AT THE BOAT HOUSE

Yesterday afternoon, the skies cleared, the sun re-emerged after a good 4-5 days of absence. The temps rose above 10 degrees, and a friend and I decided to take one of our spur-of-the-moment "v-cations" (as Eliza used to say). 

 

We contemplated lunching at the local Chinese restaurant where the cooks are nice enough not to prepare MSG-laden food, but then the idea struck me to go to the Boat House, a restaurant/bar situated along the Ohio River.  The afternoon sun radiated off the snow and water, and the window-enclosed addition to the bar provided a setting as close as one could come to actually being outside on this deceptively warm-looking afternoon.

 

There was no traffic along the river, except for the Great Blue Herons who were out in abundance, gliding gracefully up and down the river. I absolutely stand in awe of these large graceful birds;  for many a year, they've been a source of great inspiration for me, especially when I didn't feel like I could stand on one leg, support myself, and maintain my balance (figuratively.)

 

 

 

(We watched numbers of these majestic birds flying along the edge of the water, just like the one pictured here.

 Photo credit:  unknown) 

 

I have to my friend with a heap of patience, for when one of the Great Blues would fly by, I would immediately lose our thread of conversation.  I am always mesmerized by these birds, and as one would come into view, I fixed on it until it was out of sight. 

 

Then I witnessed something absolutely amazing! One was flying up the middle of the river when I saw him approaching the water as if to land. There were small ice floes there that he probably thought would support him, and as he got very close to the water, he looked as if he were going to dive for a fish, but much to his surprise, I think, he completely submerged under the water.  He re-emerged quickly thereafter and began to attempt to take flight.  With his neck fully extended toward the sky, he started flapping his wings in an effort to lift his body out of the water.  It was very obvious the task was a daunting one, for he couldn't ascend high enough to start flapping his wings in forward motion.  At that point, he went back down. I sensed his panic, as well as my own. 

 

The huge bird again stretched his neck at a 90-degree angle to the sky and started short, rapid mini-flaps with his wings.  Again, he really looked like he was depending on the strength of his neck muscles to help him get high enough for his wings to move without hitting water. 

 

(I'm sure the two men seated a couple of tables down from us were pretty much unaware of what was going on.  They had not noticed any of the many GB's that had flown by during the time they sat there, talking about something immensely boring and political.)

 

OK, the next part of the story might seem a little bizarre for some, but as I watched the bird struggle to regain flight, I felt a surge of energy inside me leave my body in a beam directly aimed at the GBH.  I could feel the vibration leaving my body through my third eye, and I could hear myself telling the creature how close he was to gaining enough height to fly forward.  I felt like an energy-possessed cheerleader, assuring him he could make it - he was so close to taking off! And sure enough, he struggled a few seconds longer until he could start flapping to lift himself up and start up river.

 

That's not the end of the story, however.  I "re-entered the atmosphere" long enough to catch my breath and continue the conversation with my friend, only to "feel" the bird once again, as if he were calling my name.  As I turned to look at the river, my GBH friend had turned from north to west and was flying directly toward me --dead on, directly toward me!  He flew past the river's edge toward the Boat House and then dropped down on the bank just below where I was sitting.  I heard him calling, but I didn't see him for another 5 minutes or so until he took off flying south. By that time, my friend was as engaged in what was happening as I, and as the heron went down river, both of us just sat for a few seconds with our mouths wide open - -We had just had a most special encounter with Mother Nature and her incredible fisherman, the Great Blue Heron.

 

 

(photo credit: unknown)

 

My close encounters with Great Blue Herons are too numerous to relate here, but suffice to say, I've always thought of this majestic creature as one of my totems, a guiding animal spirit.  Their connection to both air and water provides good balance for me as a Virgo (a double Virgo, at that) who can use a little urging from time to time to take a break from her Earth pull.

 

And, I like what Ted Andrews says about the Great Blues in his book, Animal-Speak:  The heron's long legs "...are symbols of balance, and they represent the ability to think and evolve. The longer the legs...the deeper life can be explored. The long thin legs of the heron reflect that you don't need massive pillars to remain stable, but you must be able to stand on your own. This is especially significant for those with a totem of the great blue heron, as it is a lone hunter....GBHs stand out in their uniqueness, and they know how to snatch and take advantage of things and events the average person doesn't bother with....The GBH is powerful in flight...it takes aggressive movement toward opportunities that present themselves."

 

I watched the heron yesterday rely on its instinct and strength to rescue itself from the icy waters.  I feel blessed and energized for the unique experience of our connection.  I can't  stop thinking about what I witnessed, both with the bird and within myself.

SNOW DAYS

Snow days were never a problem at our house. When the kids were at home more than likely, either their dad or I would be at home along with them.  So, my immediate association of having a day away from work is one of fun times:  cooking a pot of soup, sledding, walking in the fields, playing board games or putting a puzzle together. Just like when I was a kid.
 
Even though I'm at the farm by myself these days, I still enjoy the silence and peace of snow days.  This morning the corgis and I walked the back field in 7" of virgin snow.  I worked up a good sweat under my layers while they panted and plowed a path ahead of me.  Mac, in particular, gets really frisky as he bounces through the powdery blanket of cold stuff that's as high as his shoulders, and MerryBelle loves to turn her head to the sky and catch snowflakes as they fall - much like I remember doing as a child. A lone robin accompanied us part of the way, hopping from bush to bush along the fence line.  I'm sure her delight with this touch of winter was much less that that of the corgis' and mine. I sensed a tone of complaint rather than joy in her song - understandably so.

Once back from the woods, the adventurer in me had to check out the road situation.  Actually, what I really wanted to do was see if the Subaru would make it to the end of the driveway in the deep snow.  Sure enough, it did, and I drove into the gas station to fill up .My mobility might be compromised, however, if the wind picks up and brings about some drifts!
 
I also find that snow days allow me to feel free to play as if I had nothing else to do.  This afternoon, I've pulled out my colored pencils and paper stash and made a little book.  I've added a few inches to Eliza's sweater, and soon, I'll cook up something good.  From my desk, I can look out and watch the birds at the feeder, and they always bring me great joy. Music has filled the house all day, just as it does in the summer when I'm home during the day.  Boredom isn't a problem, that's for sure!  If anything, I have a hard time deciding in which direction to focus my play!
 
Most of all, snow days always bring up memories of my childhood in Boone - days during which I would spend time on a sled racing down a hill or playing with Richard next door. I remember skiing at my cousins' house one winter, and I can taste the hot chocolate (made from scratch) Mom always had ready for us once we came in.  I miss Boone in the winter maybe more than the summer: frosted trees and snow-covered mountains tower there in the winter in every direction - awesome spectacles!

As the sun has come out this afternoon, the snow glitter sparkles.  Perhaps, I'll build a fire....It's not that cold, but doing so seems appropriate, and I'm sure Mac and MerryBelle will enjoy a long nap once the flames begin to heat up the hearth....

(In all honesty, I'm hoping for another day at home tomorrow!)

SOME PHOTOS - FILTERED & ALTERED A BIT

 

I'm posting these photos I took in 2013 and altered a bit, mainly so I can see what they look like in a posted format.  I really enjoy playing with my camera, and most everything I photograph is something I see around me here at The Farm - commonplace subject matter with a touch of editing or not).  By the way, most of these images have already made a public appearance on Facebook

 

Here's a confession:  I'm really quite shy about my photographic work.  After sitting at dinner one summer evening, listening to an assembled group of established and rather renowned (area) artists bash photography as an art / craft, I felt like sliding under the table.  I would never claim to be an artist, and certainly I understand the limits of my "artistic" ability as per their definition; however, their commentary set my mind in motion. 

 

I'm not in any business with my photographs, and I'm not looking to carve out a niche for myself in the world of "art."  I work with my camera for fun and personal pleasure.  I do credit myself with a discerning eye, and I like to see what I can come up with once I move images from the camera onto my computer. I have always been drawn to the myriad tiny components that make the whole photo, so from time to time, I do a bit of macro work.  

 

That's about the sum total for me - - capturing snapshots that catch my eye, pique my interest, and provide moments of pleasure personally.

 

Here's what that process yields:

 

A single hinge holding a massive old door on the barn....



Beautiful lines of the datura flower as it unfold....

 



 

Magnified colors of a rusty piece of tin....

 



A line of color from an adolescent boy's interest in graffiti that appeared on the side of the barn one day years ago...

 



 

My favorite smiley guy on the farm in black in white....

 



 

An experiment in texture, using stone, bone, and a piece of pottery.....

 

I'm totally open to my readers' thoughts and commentaries, so feel free to throw in your two cents' worth.  Most importantly, just enjoy the images and colors.  That's what's most important to me.



UNCLE FRANK

(Written on Sunday, January 12, 2014)

This afternoon, as friends and family gather in Boone to honor Uncle Frank, the corgis and I will take to the field in the direction of the woods, with binoculars in hand and eyes and ears at full alert in  search of our feathered friends.  If Uncle Frank were here to visit, he'd be right there with us, for he never missed the opportunity to be outdoors on the land, whether that be on his beloved acreage out on Roaring Fork (near Boone) or over at Big Pine (his home place in Madison County near Asheville, NC). 

Uncle Frank Randall passed away shortly after midnight last Thursday.  We all knew he was in his final days, and at Christmas, Samuel, Eliza and I had a special last visit with him at Glenbridge Assisted Living Center in Boone. We were well aware that time would be our last with him, for Uncle Frank understood what happening on many levels, and like the consummate scientist he was, could recognize the signs himself.

Although Uncle Frank, his beloved wife, Aunt Lera, and son, Richard moved to Boone when Richard and I were in first grade, I can't remember my life without them. Our families, along with Robert and Lib Randall and their children, were as close as blood relatives, and to this day, Eliza and Samuel include the Randalls any time they list their relatives. Before the expression was coined, Uncle Frank, Aunt Lera, Mom and Dad, Aunt Lib and Uncle Robert understood the notion of the village raising the children, and we children didn't give a second thought to obeying whatever directive came from whatever parent. Our families lived side by side, vacationed together, gardened together, shared holidays together and loved together. And, the subsequent generation, my children and Betsy's, have the blessed advantage of experiencing that same level of familial interaction. Seeing Uncle Frank and Aunt Lera in Boone when they are there is as routine as being with Petie, their grandmother.

Richard wrote this wonderful tribute to Uncle Frank in preparation for the inevitable. What an incredible man Uncle Frank was - a man with the courage to follow his convictions as a conscientious objector at a time when our country was involved in WW II. The text is a bit lengthy, but I want to post it in its entirety for the sake of having it preserved on my blog:

Dr. J. Frank Randall, 95, a long time member of the Boone, NC, community and retired Professor of Biology at Appalachian State University, died on January 10, 2014 at Watauga Medical Center.

Born in 1918 at the family farm on Big Pine Creek, Madison County, NC, Dr. Randall was the fifth child of John Wesley Randall, Jr., and Lou Ella Randall. Like so many in the Randall family, he pursued a career in teaching and education, receiving an A.A. from Brevard College, an A.B. from The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, an M.S. from The University of Michigan and a Ph.D. in Biology from The University of South Carolina. Before joining the faculty of what was Appalachian State Teachers College in 1957, Dr. Randall taught for two years at Oakwood Friends School in Poughkeepsie, NY, for seven years in the public secondary schools of North Carolina, and for three years at the then newly-established Alpena (MI) Community College.

Dr. Randall’s enthusiasm for teaching was evident in his early morning ornithology classes. He readily shared his avid interest in birds and their environment and nurtured this same appreciation and love of nature in his students. He had a breadth of interest that led him to help develop a series of Biology Department classes ranging from ecology and biogeography to mammalogy, ichthyology, vertebrate zoology, evolution, and endangered species. He was a proponent of the idea that understanding the natural world around us is an important part of an education. In that vein he created a special biology course for home economics majors and constantly shared his love of field biology formally and informally with students, family, and friends. His two academic trips with students to Alaska (1974 and 1977, respectively) and three trips (1979, 1982, and 1985) to South America to the Galapagos Islands and portions of mainland Ecuador, Bolivia, and Peru, including Machu Picchu, were cherished experiences and robust learning exercises for the participants.

He took pride in, and his students benefited from, his multidisciplinary knowledge. He delighted and surprised many students from small communities with his detailed knowledge of their communities, some of which was acquired during his comprehensive survey of fish in the Catawba-Wateree river basin. Focused on more than just their academic success in a particular class, he conveyed to his students the importance of development of the whole person by challenging them to think deeply about ethics, politics, and human impact on the Earth.

He was keenly aware of his responsibilities as an educator and teacher and played a major role in establishing the Appalachian Faculty Senate, serving as its first chairman. In addition to his professional responsibilities, Dr. Randall was active in the Audubon Society, North Carolina Nature Conservancy, Bluff Mountain Stewardship Committee (where he conducted hiking tours), and the Nongame Wildlife Advisory Committee for North Carolina. He was active with Boy Scouts, serving as a Scoutmaster and as an Explorer Post Advisor.

His lifelong commitment to conservation and preservation was fostered by appreciation for plants, animals, and ecosystems that he absorbed from his father during childhood in the rural NC mountains and by the love of geography and education inspired by his mother. These characteristics were expanded and reinforced when, as a young man, he hitchhiked throughout much of the western US.

Dr. Randall was a kind, gentle, patient, and non-violent person and a conscientious objector during the second world war—an unpopular but genuine belief for which he had to mount legal challenges to state and federal agencies to defend. He served through the American Friends Service Committee and other organizations, performing conservation work in California and Oregon, as well as helping migrant workers and American citizens of Japanese heritage who were relocated to internment camps by the federal government. As part of his alternate civilian service, he volunteered to become a 'smoke jumper' for fighting forest fires in west; although, that program was canceled before he was deployed.

Since his retirement in 1990, Dr. Randall spent much of his time adding to, enjoying, and working on his Roaring Fork nature preserve in the Meat Camp section of Watauga County. He shared his love and enthusiasm for this favorite spot with friends, relatives, scouts, students, and beloved canines, Snowzey and Baxter.

Dr. Randall was one of a close family of eight children. In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by all of his siblings and their spouses: brothers Herman, Paul (Evelyn), Robert (Elizabeth), Fred (Myrtle), and sisters Virginia Roberts (Gordon), Maye Hill (Jim), Nina Roberts (Sam), as well as niece Carolyn Roberts Woodrow and nephew Robert L. Randall, Jr.

Surviving Dr. Randall are his wife of 63 years, Lera Britt Randall, formerly of Chadbourn, NC, and son, Richard R. Randall, of Durham, NC. He is also survived by dozens of nieces and nephews and their children, whose friendship and love he cherished.

In lieu of flowers, the family suggests memorial contributions to The Nature Conservancy, American Friends Service Committee, Southern Environmental Law Center, National Audubon Society, institutions of higher education, UNC-TV, or other non-profit, charitable organizations of the donor's preference.

The family welcomes favorite recollections from students and friends wishing to share them at jfrankrandall@gmail.com. Visitation will be 3:00-5:00 p.m. Sunday, January 12, 2014, at Austin and Barnes Funeral Home (828.264.8888, www.austinandbarnesfuneralhome.com/) in Boone. A memorial service, to be scheduled, will be held in the Spring
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I keep hearing the words of the woman who conducted my friend Brian Dendle's memorial service, reminding those of us assembled that Brian was not gone from our lives but rather as present as ever, only in a different form and way of understanding.  I've found her words to be very true, for I sense and feel Brian today as much as I did when he was incarnate here on the Earth. 

 

So it will be with Uncle Frank.  He lives in me and my children, and he is alive in the world around us.  I know about  birds because of him; my ability to question and rationalize is much more keen as a result of knowing him, and my love of the Earth is heightened by living around him.  His legacy continues in me and in my children, along with the many other students and friends he touched.  His was, indeed, a life well lived!

 

 

 

ANNUAL NEW YEAR'S DAY WALK AROUND THE FARM + A FEW RANDOM THOUGHTS

Every New Year's Day, I throw on my farm clothes and field boots and head out to check in with the land, always in gratitude for the sacred space which is "The Farm." It's as if I'm going on a visit to hang out with dear friends, for the pastures and woods, trees and stones, feathered and furry critters who surround me have heard my life story in great detail and accompanied me on  the journey of whom I have become today. The Farm knows me better than any human, for the Earth and all her inhabitants, my farm neighbors, have shared my greatest joys and provided solace in moments of despair.

Here are a few images from today's time outside.

 



The original farm house was built back in the 1890's or so.  The tax assessor lady now describes it as "modular/non-traditional" with its several additions and upgrades. I just call it home.

 

 

The barn's hanging in there.  I think that old structure knows that if it's ever financially feasible, I'll do my best to get it back in good shape.  Until then, I'm just happy it chooses to remain standing rather than collapse in the winter winds.

 

 

And the silo is still very sturdy, best serving the farm as a great place to drum and make music. A very primal place, especially when the wind howls outside while my flute creates vibrations around the small fire circle within.

 



 

If I were to map The Farm for a self-guided tour, I'd orient visitors to various places around by the "personalities" they'd encounter along the way, each of which define Farm personality. Ornery Cat protects the compost pile; Kwan Yin greets me in the side yard and Smiley Buddha keeps my garden beds in good spirits.

 

 

Smiley Buddha never has a bad day!

 

 

The clouds were spectacular today, and Mac, MerryBelle, and I enjoyed time back in the woods - always serious MerryBelle and always goofy, Mac.

 

 

A random list of Farm triva for the first day of 2014 includes:

 

a.  first bird heard in 2014 - the Carolina wren who practices her scales every morning down in the barn.

b.  first bird sighted in 2014 - chickadee at the feeder

c.  other sightings:  the farm Red-tailed hawk, LOTS of woodpeckers, crows, and blue jays

c.  day's activities - a long walk, SKYPE with Laida in Spain, late afternoon nap, thoughts about getting several things done, random contemplations about life in general with no particularly profound revelations

 

 

 

 

Wishing all a prosperous 2014 in every way.  Laughter recommended in healthy quantities every day!







Christmas 2013 at The Farm

December 16, 2013

As I sit at the computer this morning, a light snow is peppering down, the roads are slick and icy, area officials have closed schools, and I've decided it will be a stay-at-home day as I sink into my first real winter break day at home --a PJs day for sure, at least until Mac, MerryBelle, and I venture out for our walk around the farm.

As is every year, this one's been a fitting cross-section of life, complete with births, passages, accomplishments, surprises and multitudes of blessings. Dear ones have taken flight into the world of spirit: my beloved mentor / friend, Brian Dendle; my dear friend and colleague, Sandie Wilson, and my dad's oldest sister, Mildred Smith. Uncle Frank Randall's been through some testy days with radiation, and dear Linda Dauber courageously continues her difficult journey with PSP. Each has graced my life with wisdom, friendship and love, and today I think about them as I reflect on the past months. 

In 2013, we've welcomed Lori and Chris's little Amelia Rose Mary into the fold of the farm family, and I finally got to meet Nate Potash, Brett and Betsey's little guy.  He and I formed an immediate bond, and I so hope he gets to spend more time with me here at the farm as he gets older. As I watch these little ones, along with Meera and Eric's son, Nayan, grow via iPhone messages, Facebook pics and family blogs, I recognize my role of Farm Family Grandma / Auntie T becomes ever much more special with each year.

The summer held some great moments here at the Farm.  Samuel came home for the first time in 2 1/2 years, and his visit coincided with that of Andrew's vacation back to the States from Japan.  As I listened to two young men who have been friends from birth in conversation on the deck, I felt a great sense of nostalgia, for many summers of two little boys playing everything from Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles to water slides in the side yard flashed in front of my eyes.  Yes, I would return to those days in a minute just to have those boys running around the farm with a little Eliza close behind. Sweet, sweet memories of three children who grew up and continue to grow together.

Samuel moved from Washington, DC, to Chicago this fall to pursue his career as a writer.  The perfect job has yet to come to him; however, he's cranking out some pretty great literature as he begins his novel. Andrew returned to Japan, where he will finish out his 4th year there with the JET program. He has yet to define his next move after this school year comes to an end, but he's pumping out some pretty great pottery while in Japan.  These two brother friends are full of creativity, as they have always been.  Stay tuned for great things for each.

 

(Andrew Sartorius & Samuel Wilder - August, 2013)

Likewise, as I watched Eliza board the airplane for her summer in France, I was overwhelmed with the beauty and grace of the young woman into which she has transformed.  Her experience there took me back to the summer of 1974, when I spent a life-changing summer in Spain.  Her experience in France confirmed her confidence and ability to communicate in French, as well as her adventuresome side, traveling the last week and a half of her stay alone.  This fall, Eliza began her senior year (!) at the University of Cincinnati as a chemistry major with an eye toward a MS degree in Cosmetic Sciences via the graduate school of Pharmaceuticals at UC. She's another one to watch for exciting future prospects. We've got our fingers crossed for her to receive a pretty lucrative internship with L'Oreal this summer.

 

 

(Eliza in France - July 2013)

Meanwhile back at The Farm, the two corgis and I hold down the fort. We have a great time here - walking around in the woods, playing stick, putzing around in the garden, growing flowers, watching birds, porch sitting, and generally breathing in life.  I have one more year to teach before I retire, and at the moment, I have a mile long list of things I can do when that moment arrives.  More than likely, I'll just take some time to do nothing and figure out what comes next.  A great part of my thoughts centers around the blessings of family, health, and home that become more dear with each day. I live in complete happiness; there is really nothing about which I can complain.  I'm grateful for many friends, for moments of silly play with Mac and MerryBelle, for my beautiful Mom's good health and love, my sister's love, and for time spent outdoors in awe of the Earth.

   

(The photo of the three of us was taken at our Shook family reunion this past summer.  A smaller group convened, but we still had enough folks to fill the Matney Community Center, as well as enough food to feed an army!)

 

(Mac and MerryBelle - This is their favorite time of year)

 

Namasté......

 

I'm still holding out for peace in our world, freedom for all, especially my friends in Cuba, joy in everyone's heart, and unbridled laughter to define our days.  Here's to 2014....Come visit, stay in touch, and know you are loved by all The Farm Family....

Love, love, love......Tanya

HOME (OH) FROM HOME (NC)

July 11, 2013

Observations / thoughts upon returning home (to OH home from NC Home) after being gone for 8 days:

1.  The farm's pretty drenched.  Mud-puddles and soggy grass....

2. And  lush vegetation...Lots of ragweed, teasel, burdock, pokeberry, honeysuckle....all those guys who get ahead of me fast most every summer.....

2.  The teasel = more abundant than usual.  And it's thorny and beautiful....

3.  A farm first:  33 summers here at the farm, I've never had flowers die as a result of excessively wet soil.  Sun-deprived and waterlogged gladioli, with buds rotting on the stem....and real puny looking datura....that's unheard of...

4.  Lilies in full bloom...can't wait to see them in the weekend sun...

5.  Sunflowers down from storm....one pepper plant uprooted...lower gardens will need some TLC soon...

6.  First sighting of Japanese beetles here this summer....Actually watched them emerge by the hundreds from the ground at a rest stop where I walked the dogs...lots of them! 

7.  In blooming news....two healthy cleomes, bright zinnias beginning to open, dahlia buds opening up...a couple of glads taller than I and doing OK, and the overstuffed flower bed down by the barn glorious....three stunning indoor orchids

8. In garden news: looks good..tomatoes a little "leggy"...pepper plants a bit contorted from the storm....beets ready to eat....container veggies and flowers pretty water-logged....basil ready for first round of pesto.

9.  Hummingbirds abundant....sure their nectar is a bit diluted...

10.  Mac & MerryBelle glad to be here....MB had a grumpy spell in the car....Might be time to call in Anna from Colorado again....

Boone: 

11. Family gathered at the Matney Community Club...the elders, now frailer and more fragile...the younger ones , getting acquainted, more familiar with one another....The Shooks = as "mountain"as they get...especially good to hang out with my Aunt Mabel for a bit and see my Uncle Bradley (who looks like my dad with a long beard...) up at Grandma's....Aunt Linda, Kenneth & Joyce....cousins galore...everyone, truly everyone....

12. Mom...precious moments....94.5 yrs. old...riding shotgun as we took off through the country...adventuresome still....slurping her strawberry milkshake to the very last drop...slower....hearing loss =a challenge for all

13.  Family taking care of family:  Uncle Errol and Aunt Pat; Bill & Sylvia...good, good folk....I feel lucky....grateful...

14. Mom, Myra and I with four days together.....beyond priceless....a few special minutes with Beth Dixon...friends since Miss Putnam's 1st grade...Girl Scouts together...a sister spirit

15. Random: I wanna move my farm to NC and still have it in OH, too.

16.  Miss Hal....vacant at moments...still sparkly eyes....frail...

17.  More Mom...sneaking treats to M & MB, who moved into outright begging in no time flat....talking about knitting....stories....loves company...loves ice cream and Cheetos

18.  Different without Uncle Frank, Richard and Aunt Lera in Boone...missed our dinners around the table ....

19.  Time in my grandmother's house....Family gathered there....unchanged...peace....security....legacy...I close my eyes and see her sitting in her chair looking out over the mountains. Forever with me.....

PART II: MERRYBELLE LIVES UP TO HER WORD....CHANGES AND INEXPLICABLE OCCURRENCES BEGIN TO HAPPEN

Within hours of hanging up the phone with Anna, I began to see unbelievable changes in Miss MerryBelle. Her spirit lifted, and I saw hints of a classic corgi smile on her face.  Rather than slink around from room to room, her gait shifted to sort of a prissy prancing, and she began to jump into the chair with me, something which she had seemed to want to do but had never tried. 

The day following our conversation with Anna, MerryBelle allowed me to put her leash on without snarling or biting at me, and we were able to take a long walk to the back of our woods.  Two days later, I took her out without the leash, and she was more obedient than I would ever have believed could happen.  Within a week, I was confident enough in her to let her out on her own when I got home in the afternoon.  She did, indeed, meander a bit, but she returned home within 10 minutes, something which she has continued to do faithfully to this day. At present, I allow her to come and go as she pleases when I'm at home - 99% of the time I find her on the back deck, playing with the cats.  (Truthfully,she doesn't wander at all these days unless it's to check out the fresh cow poop in the upper field just across the driveway!)

Mac and MerryBelle are at the same time quite independent and interconnected. They play hearty tug-o'-war with their rope or old socks, run circles around the couch in their nightly game of chase, taunt the cats (never to harm them), and fetch their favorite squeaky toys, Bubba and Bessy. MerryBelle likes alone time and is totally OK for Mac and me to go play stick while she hangs with the cats.  When it comes her time to play with me, she loves to rub her face in mine and leave her scent on my hair.(Just the scent I want after she's been on a rolling spree, that's for sure!) Her bark is quite a sopranic call, and I've noticed when Mac sounds an alarm, MerryBelle comes running to chime in although quite frequently she has no idea what she's barking at. She's hilarious!

There are several other things that have happened with MerryBelle that have made me realize what an enlightened being she is:

1.  After MerryBelle let me know that she liked being "girly," she insisted on playing with an old pair of pantyhose rather than old socks when we played on the floor. In fact, a couple of nights after our session with Anna, she, Mac and I started to play "sock," and she left the room to go pull one of my slips and a pair of pantyhose out of the dirty clothes. She proudly brought them into the living room, declining to pay attention to the socks and opting to play only with her newfound "girl toys."

2.  One afternoon late last winter, MerryBelle took the lead in our afternoon walk. Instead of heading into the back field to go to the woods, she led Mac and me down into the field in front of the barn, through a thicket and back up toward the house on a small path that comes out along our driveway.  I hadn't walked that way in a LONG time.  Just before we started up the hill to the driveway, I saw MerryBelle stretch out on the ground by an object that looked like a ball from the distance. As I approached, she began playing with this round object, and upon closer examination, I saw that she had an old doll's head in her mouth. It was as if a little girl had found a beloved, forgotten toy from her past. I knew we had never had the doll from which the head came as one of the kid's toys; it was obviously much older than any doll my children ever had.  As we continued,MerryBelle carefully and gently carried her doll home, playing with it all that afternoon.  Since that day, I leave her special toy outside, and every day she checks in with it and plays a bit.

3.  There are times when MerryBelle looks at me and I hear a word in my head.  I know this sounds a bit kooky to some, but I do believe Anna's advice for me to pay close attention to what MerryBelle "tells" me falls into this sort of connection.

Recently, a friend of mine lost her dog of 14 years. MerryBelle (who had never met sweet Ruby) kept sending me the word "Ruby" to my mind. I was able to spend time with Ruby during the days prior to her passage, and each time I returned home, MerryBelle curled up in my lap to share the love Ruby and I had exchanged. Not long ago, Merry Belle and I visited Ruby's house.  As I watched her explore around, sniffing and investigating all of Ruby's favorite places there, I know MerryBelle sensed Ruby's presence.  MerryBelle was a sweet and respectful guest in Ruby's house, for sure.

4. And just a few weeks ago while we were on our walk, MerryBelle started nipping at me and Mac as we walked into the back woods. Her aggression perplexed me, for she seemed to be herding Mac and me out of the woods. She wouldn't let either of us cross a couple of tree trunks to go further back into the woods, and she became rather frenzied when she saw us try to proceed. About that time, I heard a sharp squeal.  MerryBelle started nipping at my heels and ran out of the woods.  She turned to come back after Mac and me and pranced nervously behind us until we were out of the woods. As MerryBelle emerged out of the woods, I turned around, only to see a coyote with a rabbit in its mouth sneaking toward the creek just beyond where we had started to walk.  I am convinced she knew the coyote was in wait for us to leave, and she was bent on getting Mac and me out of harm's way. On the trek home, she brought up the rear and wouldn't go in the house until Mac and I went in before her. Undoubtedly, she was making sure her pack was safe.

Ultimately, MerryBelle has also said goodbye to her nasty attacks on Mac over food.  An occasional backslide reminds me of the depth of her engrained behavior patterns with hunger issues, and we continually work on making food and feeding time a pretty mundane affair. We don't have a feeding ritual; I just make sure there is always food in her and Mac's bowl.

And most importantly, MerryBelle's showing signs of forgetting her fear of people as they approach her.  She doesn't close her eyes and cower so much now as people bend over to love her, and she seeks affection from all who come to visit us.  I just can't imagine how or why anyone would harm an animal (or child), but MerryBelle has provided sad and stark evidence of the damage a not nice human can inflict upon an innocent being.

MerryBelle's transformation from a cowering, snarly, moody dog to a worry-free, spacy and sweet farm dog has been one which I wasn't sure I would ever witness.  Mac and I delight when we watch her toss a ball in the air and pounce on it, when she runs at horse-racing speed around the yard with a huge smile on her face, and when she pesters the cats to play with her.  Her magic and grace, her humor and sensitivity, and her loyalty and love embrace us every moment of every day.  And, oh how grateful we are to Anna Twinney, to all our friends who have felt her energy and worked with her, and to the woman from Tri-State Corgi Rescuefor NOT answering the email in which I asked to return her.

MerryBelle is truly a special being - one from which I've learned a lot about life, love, and the unbreakable bond of our pack. The love of our pack sustains me and makes me whole.

(There's a chipmunk in there somewhere!)

MERRYBELLE - EIGHT MONTHS DOWN THE ROAD

PART I: MERRYBELLE & THE INTUITIVE

I just read the post I wrote a little over 9 months ago, a piece written in a moment of intense exasperation and feelings of not knowing what to do with this abused and frightened corgi I  rescued and brought to live with me and Mac. At that point, I was 98% convinced that MerryBelle was NOT a fit for our pack at The Farm. My frustration had reached the point of returning her to Tri- State Corgi Rescue; I even wrote the woman I got her from to alert her to that fact.

But this morning as she slept at my feet, came to me her special loving, and ran circle after circle around the couch with Mac, her best friend, the MerryBelle of September, 2012, didn't seem at all like the dog I came close to surrendering back to her previous caretaker. Oh, it's been a journey, that's for sure, but I can say with confidence that this once severely abused creature is well on the road understanding love and trust - two things I was not sure I would ever be able to help her process and believe in.

After MerryBelle ran away on the absolute worst weekend of winter and had bitten me twice hard enough to draw blood , I found myself ready to "toss in the towel" with her. However, late in January, 2012, I cashed in on a Christmas gift from our beloved LoriBeth - a session with Anna Twinney, reiki master and animal intuitive. Lori and her friends have used Anna on several occasions to work through challenges with their animals, so I had total confidence in what a session with Anna would reveal. As a reiki practioner myself, I felt a resonance with Anna even before we spoke on the telephone. 

So, here's the "long story short" of what  has transpired since January 31, 2012, the day MerryBelle (via Anna) gave us some insight and understanding about how she perceived life, what she needed from us, and came to understand what Mac and I needed from her. I won't go into the minutiae of the conversation, but suffice to say, the 90 minutes MerryBelle (via Anna) shared with us began the amazing and magical turning point for the life we share today. 

My only contact with Anna, our intuitive, prior to our session was via email correspondence.  We scheduled our session, I answered some very general questions for her, and I sent her a photo of MerryBelle.

The afternoon of the call was one that I had waited for eagerly. Once we got through the initial greetings and basic information from Anna as to how the session would be structured, MerryBelle readily let Anna know that she (MerryBelle) accepted Anna's  invitation to "talk" with her. As I understand the process, dogs don't think in "words" but rather in images. Throughout the conversation, while I waited in silence on my end of the phone, Anna and MerryBelle connected via the images MerryBelle shared with Anna. The first information MerryBelle shared was that she was happy to be at the farm. She told Anna she trusted me, and she trusted Mac, her her true north she needed to guide her as she learned about life in a loving family setting. Not really inclined to fill us in on her past, MB shared the message with Anna that she wanted to talk about now, about her life at the farm. She shared that she liked her doggie beds and pillows here; she like the spaciousness of the farm, especially after spending the first 2 years of her life in cages. She was also willing to respond to my thoughts and questions, all of which were based upon her very difficult and peculiar behaviors: Could she let go of her nasty food aggression toward  Mac over food and toys? Was she willing to "trust" that she didn't need to worry about being beaten anymore? Could she believe me when I needed her to listen and obey? Why did she bite me? And, I passed her the message that Mac and I really wanted her to stay with us; however, if her behaviors didn't change, I was not going to be possible to keep her.

MerryBelle's responses via Anna: The food aggression was driven by instinct. Wherever she had lived before coming to us, she had to FIGHT for her food, and showing aggression over food was essential in the process of getting to eat. She had been taken from her mom before she was weaned and placed in a kennel with many other dogs, so if she didn't fight for her food, she didn't get to eat. Ultimately, when assured she'd always have food, MB was OK with backing off on the food, as well as toy agression. 

As for "guidelines" (her term), MerryBelle expressed she had not idea what they were and why they were important to her. She didn't understand why she had to wait while I "changed feet" (put on / changed my shoes) before we went out.She didn't catch on to the importance of walking on a leash (which she perceived as restraint / control on the human's part). No one had ever required her to live with restrictions on any behavior. Finally she asked me to remember she was a little girl and enjoyed girly things, like playing tug-of-war with clean ropes and socks rather than old, smelly, dirty ones. 

When it was our turn to "talk," Mac and I responded that we WANTED her to live with us, but also, we wanted life at The Farm to be fun, free of ugly and nasty attacks and disobedience issues . Her immediate response to those suggestions was an immediate and quite simple, "OK." To conclude, I asked MerryBelle what she wanted me to know and understand about her. She asked that I trust her. Yes, she liked to "meander" at bit in the cow field once I got home from work but she WOULD return. She did not want to be thrust into a new situation without some sort of preparation, etc.

At the next pause when Anna and I got to talk, Anna added that she sensed the "trust" issue was very important to MerryBelle, and she advised that when I got a "message" from MerryBelle, I should pay attention --close attention! Anna had come to understand that this little girl was an incredibly sensitive and intelligent, an intuitive being committed to her pack - MerryBelle was extremely loyal and would place her pack before herself when push came to shove. I asked Anna to let MerryBelle know that Mac and I were ready to go, ready to shift what we needed to shift and move on as our pack at The Farm - best friends, family, ones who loved and looked after each other unconditionally. I asked MerryBelle to understand that any decision I made would always be in our pack's best interest. Mac and I wanted her to be our friend, not our adversary, and I requested that she have trust in me as the leader of the pack. Tanya is alpha, in other words.  

Before our conversation with Anna ended, MerryBelle took her on a tour of the house and farm, showing Anna her favorite places and things. With accuracy and detail that blew me away, MerryBelle described Mac, me, her favorite doggie beds, the fireplace and our kitchen. Finally, she described two of our cats that she trusted and loved. (My insert here: Throughout our session, MerryBelle lay on her bed in front of the fireplace. When MerryBelle and Anna were "talking," MerryBelle looked to me as if she were dreaming - jerking her feet a bit, making whimperinig noises and twisting from time to time on the bed. When Anna was conveying to me what MerryBelle was "saying," MerryBelle drifted off in a deep sleep, snoring contentedly.)  

After a good hour and a half, Anna and I ended our session, but not before Anna reminded me again that it was important to listen to the messages MerryBelle sent me - whenever or wherever. I knew that piece was very essential for me to heed.    

MERRYBELLE

I currently live with one of the most complicated beings to ever cross my path - MerryBelle Wilder, the corgi I rescued back in early August (2011).  Although she is supposedly a full-bred corgi (from a puppy mill that was closed down for poor breeding practices), I would swear she's got some beagle in her. In fact, I found a photo of a corgi/beagle mix on the internet that looks just like her. (Her bloodline is of no importance to me whatsoever; I'd love her if she were a  Heinz-57.)  

What is most evident is that MerryBelle has a "wild streak in her," as my dad would say.  She's the most instinct-driven dog I've ever known, and she has little or no trust in humans when push comes to shove. As much as I love her, MB sets the boundaries that dictate how close I can get to her.  I so wish I could figure her!  She's complex and very, very strong-willed.

MerryBelle has well-established herself as alpha over Mac and me. She has a level of food aggression that makes Mac run for cover when I put food or water in their dishes. She's bitten me twice, both times as a result of my having to intervene for Mac's safety after she's "jumped" him over food through no fault of his own, and she's now refusing to let me hook her to a leash.  As many folks on Facebook know, she slipped away from me this weekend and was gone overnight during a nasty winter ice storm. (Thanks to a neighbor who saw my phone number on her chip tag whenMerryBelle sought refuge at the neighbor's house, I was able to "rescue" her once again. And despite her fatigue, a cut to her leg and hunger, MerryBelle turned stubborn about letting us put her leash on.)


Taken from her mother at only 5 weeks old, MB must have the idea of having to "fight" for her life deeply encoded within. I also know she comes with a lot of baggage regarding abuse, as well. She was beaten pretty severely by the dad of a family who adopted her and allowed his son to approach MB's food.  When MB got aggressive over her bowl and nipped at the child, the dad apparently removed her from the house to a chain outside and kicked her regularly.  One of her defense mechanisms is to scream when one touches her shoulder - the area where she got kicked, I'm sure. She also cowers and runs away when one extends a hand to pet her from above.  Surely she associates that with being struck, as well. She also does NOT like for one to look in her eyes. If I look at directly at her, regardless of the tenderness with which I approach her, she diverts her gaze and moves away, giving me the "I don't trust ANYONE look.  Back off!".

In the time she's been here, poor Mac's taken many an assault from his "sister." When we play, MB's like the child in the neighborhood who really, really wants to join in the game, gets really excited about the prospect, barges in and ruins the moment for everyone,  over and over again. Just recently, I've been able to get her to play tug-o-war with an old sock with Mac, but fetching seems not to interest her in the least. When she and Mac run and play, she doesn't seem to get that her play becomes too aggressive to tolerate, both for humans and Mac, and after a while, I have to bring it to a halt because she's just not nice.

On the other hand, I think she really wants to be a loving part of our pack. She welcomes visitors to the house energetically; she loves for me to get down on the floor and be a dog with her.  It's then when I can rub her and love her and get her to respond to healthy play- always on her terms, but respond, nonetheless.  I suppose we've come a ways since she got here, but the setbacks outweigh our progress at any given moment. She follows me everywhere, yet she won't let me near her to love her.  As I write this, she's come upstairs to be with me and sleep at my feet, but she won't allow me to bend over and rub her at all.

Bottom line--she's a piece of work who's as unpredictable as a rebellious teenager,  as untrusting as an abuse victim,  and as headstrong as the most feisty adolescent! She's definitely a test of patience, a constant reminder for me to look at myself in every moment of our interaction, and a lesson in consistency of training and reward. She contradicts almost everything I've ever learned from living with critters! She's like having a child....there's no time off with MB !!

I will confess that I've entertained the thought of returning her to the corgi rescue family; however, I know when push came to shove, I wouldn't be able to surrender her back. So, I'll continue my "process of elimination" techniques in terms of what works with her, get her in obedience training, and work as consistently with her as I can. I not giving up....yet.

LoriBeth gifted us with a session with an animal intuitive for Christmas.  On some levels, I think MB's picked on that, so it will be most interesting to see what guidance I get, what messages MB sends and receives, and  importantly, if we can turn some things around.  Keep your fingers crossed!

For now, it's back to reading Mother Knows Best, remembering to click and treat, and play "dog" as much as possible.  Stay tuned!