Where's Waldo, Ummm...Sandy?

My big plans this week focused on one thing: I got to co-present a session at the National Art Education Association in NYC on Friday!  So of course I spent last weekend (the one prior to 3/3 and 3/4) planning, buying my outfit, arranging an outing with a friend, etc.  Exciting!  YAY!  Something positive!

On the home front, Peter, ever the procrastinator, hadn't packed for his trip to Michigan, and had several small projects on the burner, so I essentially fed him and stayed out of his way.  Unfortunately, on Wednesday morning after I left for school, he had a sudden health issue that he left unexamined until I came home and INSISTED that he go to the ER.  I'd rather not discuss it (if you know him or me personally, just pick up a phone or email), but the result was a 3 day stay in the hospital while they ran tests.  After the first few hours, they knew he wasn't in danger, so it was a matter of figuring out the "whys"; still, I was uncomfortable leaving him.  I took off a half day of work on Thursday morning to hear what his doctor had to say, then worked the afternoon.  The next day was my NYC trip, and since he wasn't in any further danger (and the rest of my research group was counting on me) I decided to go. 

It was awesome.  Everything went smoothly and my friend and I ate a brief Thai meal (my favorite!) before we headed home...to find Peter in the living room, packing!  He still wanted to go!  We "debated" the idea, finally settling on a compromise: he felt well enough to follow through on his plans, but I was too worried to say goodbye just yet...so I went along.  That's right.  I drove to Michigan this weekend.  And I flew home alone last evening. And I taught today.  And tonight, I'm clearing everything out of my living room so the contractor can fix the ceiling.  Whew!

A Restful Weekend.

Am I happy about leaving him there? No. There's a point at which you have to admit another person's right to their autonomy and put aside your fears, and that's what I was faced with this weekend.  And you move on the best you can.  These long distance jobs do take their toll.  Peter enjoys the variety though, and I can understand why: the people he meets on his journeys are amazing!  He's been having the most awesome multi-cultural experience of his already interesting life.  I actually envy him that. 

So, back to my trip; from home to NYC, then home again for a night; then across the state to Youngstown Ohio, where we had dinner at a truck stop and met some of the nicest truckers you've ever known.  The stories they have to tell!  It was a very interesting supper.  One trucker named Steve told me he'd been driving since he was 20 years old, and was just about to turn 60.  Imagine the places he's seen!  He was a well-worn character who couldn't have weighed much more than 120 pounds, and had a face lined with stories.  He was a truck-driving pirate, the Captain Edward Teague of the Hubbard Truck Stop.

Just Squint.  It'll Come Into Focus.

After a night's rest, we squeezed our generous selves into our little car and drove the last four hours of our trip into Ann Arbor, MI.  We encountered a few flurries on the way, but nothing more, luckily, as we were working with a tight time budget.  We met Peter's new roommates (he'll be eating food from India and Africa during this job, I think.  The house smelled wonderful!), and were left alone to unpack the little he had with him.  I'll ship the rest to him tomorrow.  Then we cried for a few minutes and in no time at all the shuttle driver was there to take me to the Detroit airport.

Detroit to Philly, Philly to Allentown...with all of the required waiting between flights and a taxi ride at the end, and I slept in my bed last night.  Alone. 

So, we put the tears behind us, and each of us embraces our separate reality, with hope and joy.  We savor our lives.  We both do.  It's just so much nicer when we're together.  And of course, I want to mother him...but I can't, so I consciously disengage my mind from those thoughts, and live in the present.  With faith in the divine wisdom of the universe, and all that she holds.

What happened here at home while we were away? Well, we have two angry kitty-cats, though they had ample grub for the two days we were gone.  Grandpa just slept through it, but he was happy to have his head scratched.  And on the farm, this is what happened:

Corrine's Picture of Dawn: Born Yesterday.

My "Words With Friends" buddy said it well: "Things change quickly".  For both the better and worse.  It's up to us to enjoy the ride.

Jazzie Has Milk

I know, I know...to those of you who aren't as emotionally invested in the goat herd at Flint Hill Farm as I am, Jazzie's expanding udder may not be earth shattering news; however, for those of us on kid watch 2011, it means that our new kids are imminent.  To illustrate that fact, I took several pictures in the barn last evening while I was feeding the girls.  Here are a few:

Dolly is HUGE, as usual. For a goat with one teat, she sure makes lots of good babies.

The Three Graces

The "Other" Three Graces, on the left, by Botticelli

Wide loads: Dolly and Doe

The Arnolfini Wedding, by Jan van Eyck

I took a few shots of Jazzie and her gang of Queens, but they weren't properly focused. I'll catch up with them later.

Andy Warhol's Queen painting

Queen Dolly

On the other hand, our bovine sisters are enjoying a little mid-lactation cycle peace and plenty.  Here's a clip of Buttercup, performing her afternoon lip-massage.  I hope you find it as humorous as I do!  Happy Friday!

Memories of Last Summer.  Now THAT'S a rack!

Dinner from the Freezer, Organic Style

It's January, and after a long, hot summer, a frantic fall, and an equally frantic holiday season, we're all settling into the winter doldrums.  NOT SO! Unfortunately, I don't have pictures, but we had summer for dinner tonight:

Fresh (frozen) local organic sausage roulettes, garden grown kale in a wild oyster mushroom cream sauce, oven baked sweet potatoes (Amish grown), and frozen strawberries (from the market last summer) over homemade, raw-milk ice cream.  And it all took about 40 minutes, and came from my freezer and pantry.  Yahoo!

I think I'm beginning to like winter!

AROS#11: Dusk

Dusk

An hour before sunset

looking west

the black-white cattle

grow golden halos,

a spiderweb.

of trees behind them

Remote Posting

Hello, my friends!  I'm taking the evening off to cook our traditional New Year's Eve dinner, but I hear Faith did a little writing over at Faith's Funny Farm.  Why don't you go on over and check it out?  There are lots of pictures there from Lights in the Woods, including lots of Faith's good friends.  Have a safe New Year's Eve, and I'll catch you on the flip side!

Faith's Funny Farm

Our outspoken princess Faith has decided that she needs a blog of her own.  You can read all about her latest adventures here: http://faithsfunnyfarm.blogspot.com/2010/12/winter-is-here.html

In the meantime, here's a picture of the goats (mostly!) to keep you warm at night.

Someone's Different...

Thanksgiving Weekend Highlights

Gratuitous Snow on Thanksgiving Morning

On Thanksgiving morning, it snowed just enough to make it pretty outside; what a nice touch for a relaxed holiday weekend!  As you know from my previous blog, we decided on a non-traditional meal this year.  We went with paella, which was lovely, and shared our evening with our good friend El.  We've shared many holidays over the last 20 years.

A Toast to Good Friends

 The weekend was spent doing various chores and cleaning up, and today (Monday) was spent with the grand kids, who arrived last night a few hours before bedtime. There's just something wonderful about little boys.

They do things like this...

And this...

And this.  And it's all great, and really funny.

Then you take them somewhere else (like the farm), and they do more stuff.



They're Crazy!

And cute...

And frisky.

 And they grow up way too fast, just like their mother did. 

Jersey Boy

First, I apologize for my HUGE lapse in blogging.  I wrote my first graduate paper.  I'm 53.  That was huge for me.  I'm loving the whole research process.  My world just got...BIGGER.
Here's what I've been up to in the meantime...our little Jersey boy was born two days ago, on my birthday.  Check out the state map on his forehead!  He's adorable.

Pumpkin, born on 11/02/2010



Pumpkin's momma, Daisy, is doing fine.  He was an easy delivery.  

More updates to follow ASAP!

Fall at the Farm

This was my second Fall Open House at the Farm since I've been there.  It's been a good two years for me.  I've milked dozens of goats, birthed dozens of goat kids and two calves, and experienced so many peak moments of both joy and grief in life's inevitable dramas that reading about it (via John Dewey, on "Esthetic Experience") seems dry to me.

There's nothing like farm life to put you in the moment.

Remember Be Here Now?  I do.

-----

I have lived intensely, these two years. 

I'm grateful for that.

For the calf that took her first breath from me, through my lips, fresh born into my lap.

For the goat kid that was born alive after her twin's still birth, and the mother that survived it all; her pain was my pain, as I held her unborn kid's legs in my hands and later held her head during a hard delivery, and then, joyfully, her live, perfect baby shortly after.

For the two kids born two days after their older sister, and their mother that miraculously held her colostrum for them after giving a day's portion to her first baby

Miracles.  Every day.

..............

For the prayers that are answered on faith,

and for the many caring, giving people I've met at the farm.

.........

On our Open House days, we celebrate!  We celebrate life.

We celebrate:



Teenagers who volunteer for camp, and (this weekend) pony rides!

Volunteers who brought pumpkins, and tended the horses and other livestock.



The new friends who visited today, and who helped support our vision of agricultural education.

Miss Kathy, whose insights and determination are the heart of Flint Hill.



The fruits of our labors; Eric and Kathy's cheese, our hens'eggs, our bees' honey, and the artisans who keep us in their plans.



The Godfrey Daniels musicians, who generously contribute their talents and time to our fundraising events.



And to everyone who contributes in one way or another to make this dream a reality.

...................

I've been contemplating my future lately.  Studying the philosophy of art education (and art, my life apart from the farm), and facing my own aging process and the challenges it brings makes me realize how immediate and vital this sort of experience is for all of us.

I'm so grateful.

I'm so blessed.

Snapshot: This Moment. 9-15-10

This "Snapshot Moment" was inspired by THIS blog.

My Wednesday ritual; a trip to the Amish farmland. I'm taking a course at Kutztown University, which is minutes away from my mother's apartment.  The few miles between Kutztown and Fleetwood offer me a much needed respite from my harried life.

On a cool, sunny pre-autumn afternoon, I went in search of a corn field for a photograph of the corn stalks.  I found so much more.  The air was brisk and clear, with a slight breeze and welcome warm sun. I pulled over near these Jersey girls.

Quietly munching in the early evening air, they paused to watch me, watching them. 

Shhhhh...



Curious and calm, they cautiously approached; the breeze blew, and the outside world was silent save for the tearing of grass and the chewing of cud. Liquid black eyes blinked slowly, then looked back to the grass.  Comfortable. Doing what cows do.

A few feet away, the corn stalks rattled in the breeze like rain.  I wanted to lie among them.  I wanted to sleep with my head at their feet.  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and just listened, and time stood still.

I suspect it does that often here, on the Amish farmlands; it's a peaceful vortex, a welcome anomaly.  Filled by the richness of tradition and the rhythms of the seasons. It's a place where I can catch my breath; and I did.

Before the Breath

There is a moment...

right between; between...being unborn, and born.  I've experienced it often this year.

There's the reveal; she's ready, showing the signs, doing the little nesting dance, making a circles or meditating.  She hears something no one else can hear.

She begins to talk to her belly.  Little lowing sounds, unlike her normal voice.  Gentle.  Consistent.

She focuses harder, and may cry out.  Or may just put her head down and push.  This can go on for awhile...or not.  Soon, you'll see more water, and more tissue...and...

feet.  Followed by a nose.  If everything is right.  You pray for the nose. Sometimes you have to find it, turn it, set things straight.  Scary times.  You close your eyes, and visualize.  Sometimes you pray.  Sometimes you cry.  Sometimes you laugh. You work hard.

Then things can happen.  They happen fast, or slow, and can be wonderful, or terrible.  If they're normal, they're excruciatingly passionate.  There is a point at which you forget to worry about getting dirty, or putting your hands where they've never been, or doing what needs to be done.  You do it. You help, because it's right.  You put your back into it.  It's why you were there.  And there's a life coming...

So you sometimes pull, and you always get wet, and you wipe away mucous, and you hold that new life in your hands, and in that excruciating moment between being and not being, that moment when you're holding the most perfect, still and silent creature on the earth in your hands, on your lap, you're holding your breath too.  You've done everything you can. You know now's the time...and you swipe with your fingers, and touch your lips to the moist nose, and...blow. 

What was still and perfect, not quite alive, not a living soul, stirs.  An eye opens, a head turns, and you catch your breath too, and your life has changed.  There's another soul in the world, and your breath was the first it felt in its still-wet, brand new lungs.  You wipe it clean, rub it hard, check its sex, and hand it over to its mother to be licked...and loved...and taught to live in the world, taught to take nourishment, taught to be a goat, or a cow, or whatever it was meant to be.  You let go, step back. And it's beautiful. You quiver with the miracle still in your bones, in your tired arms, in your heart.

And for a day, or a night, or a week, you remember what you were witness to; what old voices whispered in your ears.  And the circle is complete until you begin to step away from it...until the next time.

When you'll be there again...and share the magic, the blessing of that moment...that longest second...before the first breath.

Wordless Wednesday: Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

Gopi's Growing!

If you recall last August, I happened upon a blessed event just as it was occurring.  The date was August 29th, 2009; Our little calf's first birthday isn't even a month away!

Gopi's first steps, with a little help from her friends.

She was born at the far end of the field, on a rainy day. When peter and I arrived, Rebecca was with her, drying her off and calling Kathy. Momma Buttercup and the other two cows were in the field too.  As Buttercup tried to clean and nudge her baby the other two nosy sisters kept stepping in the way and knocking the poor tot back down again; long story short, we ended up carrying her back to the barn. Calves are heavy!  But oh, so adorable!

Buttercup's tears of joy.

Well, those baby days are long gone.  Here's our girl today, nearly as big as her sister, and twice as friendly.

Our little girl is growing up! Check out those pretty feet! 

Peter wanted me to include him for scale.  I think Gopi wants a ride!

Her name came from a raffle we held at the farm; being a non-profit, funds are always a challenge, so we held a "name our calf" contest.  The lucky winner chose the name "Gopi".  I have no idea of its origin or meaning, but I like it.

In another month or so, we should have a playmate or two for our little girl, who will then be a big sister/aunt. I hope I'm there when the new babies come! Our herd is growing! 

If I Could Talk to the Animals

Just imagine it!

Well, why not?  They talk to me; not in words, of course, unless you count the words they share in their native language...but there's no mistake about the message Daisy was giving me HERE.

They communicate with us at every opportunity.  We just need to listen the way they do: with both our ears AND our eyes.  Take Macy, for instance:

If that isn't her "I'm beautiful" smile, I don't know what it is!

And Miss Faith:

Aloof royalty.  Can't you see it?

One of the milking goats, Miss Pebbles, mutters to me under her breath every time she comes to the milking stand.  It's the same sort of low voice the goats use with their kids; catching up...sharing news.  Pebbles and I are tight. She tells me the latest gossip. The gossip often involves cows.

"What are YOU looking at?"

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.....

OK, that one isn't really communication; but this one is:

LOL! Life's funny!

Just ask Hobie...

Or Elvis, with his sardonic grin. Life's funny. You ought to hear what he says to the does when he's in rut!  It's scandalous!

The animals will tell you all sorts of things...if you know how to listen.

Kisses

(Photos by Megan Levance)

I just had to show you these pictures that my daughter posted on Facebook today. 

First, a little kiss:

Pucker up! You know goats are the best kissers.

How about now?  How about a big, wet one?

Are you ready?

Shhhh, Candy Cow!  No more kisses, Mom is watching!

(The farm is a friendly place!)