Here is our place. This was taken last summer just after we'd reconfigured the stone wall out front and just before we put the screening and the cedar trim - courtesy of the craftsmanship of our friend and master builder, Chris Mazzarella - around out front porch. The front bank is grown over a bit now due to the soggy weather we've been having. "A bit?" Ha! It looks like a jungle. I'm sure our friend Gail - a tireless and particular gardener who lives just down our road - bites her New England tongue when she drives by or comes over for a visit. She would've cleaned this up a long time ago, hacking the mess into beautifully sculpted areas, cleaned of weed and thistle, color coordinated, the size and shape of each plant and flower thought out so as to make a perfectly complimentary display that would make passersby green with envy. Ah well. Richard and I are self professed "random" gardeners and we'll tend to it soon. Overgrown or not, soggy or dry, everything is still magic to me. I've been away for a week, to New York City, which I love. Vermont was always there, though, in some corner of my thoughts and meditations. It made me smile. I wasn't really pining to be home; I was simply happy knowing it was there. I've decided that Vermont and New York City have come to symbolize the duality in me - town and country; yin and yang; activity and retreat; in the world and detached from it; doing and being; on and on and on. The gift (and challenge) has been to see that it's not an either/or proposition, but an invitation to embrace both equally. It feels good. A friend reminded me the other day that there's a lot of duality these days, people locked in their ways and not giving. I guess it comes from fear. Old ways, old things falling away and you simply defend them because they're familiar. Of course, this is all hypothetical to me. I don't think I've ever blindly or stubbornly held onto any old belief or way of life. No, never. HA!HA!HA!HA!HA!HA!HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Yeah, right. I used to be called the "wall of NO."
I thought of our place alot yesterday as I drove up 91 from New Haven, where I park my car and take the Metro North into the city, up through Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Vermont. Oddly enough the highway departments of Massachusetts and Vermont in their collective wisdom chose a busy Friday to knock the interstate lanes down to 1 in order to re-paint median lines. Hmmm? It's odd to be in green countryside locked in bumper to bumper traffic from 30 miles south of the Vermont border to 10 miles north of it. My ass feels like it's widening out on a normal drive from New Haven to home - 3 1/2 to 4 hour drive - and this median business added at least an hour of rear end spreading time.
But there were payoffs. I did stop at the fantastic Vermont Welcome Area 5 miles into the state as you're heading north. It's a spectacular structure filled with comprehensive displays of all the state has to offer all year round with specific updates for that week or weekend's activities. I'll include the Welcome stop as one of my reasons for living here. It's imbued with a simple and winning pride of this part of the country. And outside yesterday, a woman's group of vital, happy 70 and 80 year olds, had set up a "coffee break" area filled with homemade cookies and brownies, candy, carrots, water, sodas and, of course, coffee, all for "donations only." Quite a wonderful welcome home, quite a wonderful and welcoming group. It was swell.
So what's going on around here?
Our Canada Geese are growing. We think one of the young was attacked or had some sort of accident because a piece of one of its wings is torn and dragging. This may have happened a couple weeks back when I found all the feathers scattered around the bank of the pond. The gosling doesn't seem to be in pain, but we fear this will affect its flying ability when its parents start giving air lifting lessons on the pond soon. We'll see. Richard and I have decided that we're going to discourage the Canada Geese from landing here next year. They are beautiful, but the amount of excrement is truly prodigious and outweighs the plus column of having them around. (Richard wants it known that he's acquiescing to this decision, not necessarily agreeing with it wholeheartedly. However, he is tired of the amount of poop.) A couple bits of news and trivia. While visiting New York and talking about Canada Geese, I was told that due to the jet crash into the East River caused by geese earlier this year, a whole slew of Canada Geese near the airport are going to be killed. They've been deemed a nuisance and a hazard for they never migrate, they simply procreate and their number has climbed to 3,000. At least, ours migrate. And in the trivia department, according to a friend, the birds are not named after the country, but after a person whose name was "Canada." Hmm. So they are not "Canadian" geese, they are always "Canada" geese. I'll have to do some research on that.
Our garden is burgeoning. The beets aren't doing that well due to the soggy soil and coolish temperatures. Our arugula has blasted ahead, though, and has gone into yellow seed. We've got to eat fast and furious here. Our potato plants are towering and I think we need to cover up another 4 inches else the potatoes, we're told, will be green and tasteless. Some have even said poisonous. Oh, great.
Our field has been hayed by a resourceful gentleman a couple miles down the road. It's been touch and go for people haying this year, trying to find some time in between storms not only to mow it, but then to let it dry out before baling. He did a wonderful job - our field looks as if its been given a crew cut. I'm looking forward to it regaining its length.
We had a tornado warning a couple days ago! That brings a bit of the past home to 2 midwestern boys - me, Indiana and Richard, Illinois. I was still in New York, but Richard was in town at a 4-H fair when a huge storm hit. He wasn't aware of tornado warnings, but he said that the tempest swept in to town and caught people unawares. Everyone was huddled under the livestock tent, running to bring hay in out of the deluge, while the 8 - 10 year olds calmed their calves. Richard claimed the sky opened up like a full force faucet for 15 minutes with tremendous flashes of lightening and rolling, explosive thunder accompanying the water works. He knows I love storms, so he drew the story out delicisouly. It sounded thrilling. We missed thunder and lightning while living in Southern California. They had it, but it so paled to the power of midwestern and eastern pyrotechnics that it seemed almost non-existent to us.
Oh, I need to take a walk. The sky has brightened and I may get one in before the next shower. I think I'll do that. Also, Ginger and Mary Ann are honking and I haven't seen those waddlers for awhile. I hope every one reading this is fine. Have a splendid day.
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