Flying

We were watching a movie last night where someone was dreaming that he was flying.  I know that dream has all sorts of positive interpretations.

I said to my husband, "I've never dreamed that I was flying, have you?"

"No," he said, "but I've dreamed I was trapped in a sleeping bag."

That should tell you all you need to know about us.

If you'd like to search for the meanings of dreams on a site where you can actually type in the dream, go to http://www.dreamforth.com/ .  I cannot vouch for its reliability, but it is a fun site.

New Year

Here in Gringolandia the glacier seems to be receding.  I may get my car back up the hill and tucked into the garage.  The White Christmas storm kept me up here for lack of a four wheel drive vehicle which could actually get up the ice covered driveway.  My husband graciously took care of the farm animals because he drives a heavy four wheel drive truck.

I got to read The Lacuna, a book I highly recommend.  It concerns many things which I am interested in:  politics, Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, class struggle, Mexico, Appalachia, and the dark side of human nature which will manage to destroy reputation by bullying.  Luckily, some of us have a lacuna through which we can escape.  The leisure to read was a great Christmas present.

Now, I'm on toThe Jungle, which purports to be about the evils of the meat packing industry in the early 1900s, but which will, I think, give me more insight into the lives of immigrants who came to the major cities on the Great Lakes from Europe and struggled against exploitation and deprivation.  Class struggle figures in again, as does the dark side of human nature.  Although my grandparents didn't live in Chicago, Buffalo was close enough.  My grandmother told me some stories of what it was like to be a child in those times, but perhaps I was less aware of the desire of the rich to exploit masses of workers for their own selfish gain.  This seems to be the aim of the current would-be "Masters of the Universe." 

The stories of unlimited opportunity in the New World were also sold to the peasants in Europe by agents of the meatpacking and steel industries to lure a nearly unlimited supply of workers so desperate to make a living for their families that they were willing to work for wages so low that many suffered and died while their employers got richer and richer.

Of course, Cortez mercilessly exploited the Azteca for much the same reasons.  Tell, me, will we ever learn enough from history to break the cycle?

It's Winter

The Solstice has occurred, spectacularly, with a full lunar eclipse.  Cloud cover prevented me from seeing it with my own eyes, but there are plenty of images online.

We are on the upside -- although a frozen driveway is a little inconvenient.  We're expecting more ice and snow.

We recently viewed a movie, Agora, which was about life in 4th Century Alexandria, Egypt.  Hypathia was the main character.  She would have been able to predict the eclipse, as she was a preeminent astronomer, mathematician, and philosopher.   Respected among the elite, she didn't hesitate to consult with the politicians and intellectuals in the cosmopolitan city.  She taught at the Museum of Alexandria, which housed the written treasures of the world prior to being burned down in a struggle for political dominance.  Although history is somewhat debatable when it comes to the details of Hypathia's life, there is no debate that she was influential.  She seemed to be indifferent to religion and is usually considered to have been a Neo-Platonist (philosophy) rather than a "pagan" in the sense that she probably did not worship any gods in the true sense.  Nevertheless, she was murdered by a mob of Christians -- that is not debated. although some have claimed that the reason was more political than religious.
If you are interested in history and especially history which concerns women, you may enjoy this movie.  At any rate, it would be good entertainment while you are cooped up inside with the snow building up.

I Can't Remember a Worse December

I can’t remember a worse December.

Just watch those icicles form!
What do I care if icicles form?
I’ve got my love to keep me warm.

For those of you too young to remember this song, you can go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0677H1EPdB0&feature=related and listen to Billie Holiday sing it.

Well, anyway those lyrics were rattling around my brain yesterday -- I've got some strange ability to remember song lyrics.  I figure my brain is full of song lyrics where math ability would normally be.  Sadly, there's just no room for trigonometry.

Those lyrics express the current weather conditions in SW Virginia.  The wind is blowing the cold inside.  We take extra care to feed the animals and give them some comfort, although the goats normally can't wait to be let out to roam the pastures.  Our llama is in his element.

Besides the cold, the indiscriminate use of banjos in the Bluegrass Holiday tunes is an irritant.  Silver Bells sung with a snazzy banjo chorus is NOT my idea of a Bluegrass Christmas and Christmas Time's A-Comin' is NOT authentic, but certainly IS irritating.

Meanwhile, I'm accutely aware of the waning daylight.  We're almost at the solstice, at which time day length will begin it's reverse cycle. 

So, bundle up.  Hunker down.  Put another log on the fire or turn up the thermostat a degree or two.

Into the Deep Freeze We Go

As of December 1st, the mild weather ended.  It was abrupt, but we knew it was coming.  The forecast for the next five days is that temperatures will not go above freezing and it will snow.  As I type, the ground is getting whiter and whiter...

'Good weather for staying inside and reading and writing.

I've just finished reading Lies My Teacher Told Me and I highly recommend it to all who continue to learn.  If you are or were a teacher, do not be put off by the title.  This is a book about how history is taught in U.S. schools -- full of legend and nationalism, but short on factual information.  

As a student of the current political scene, I realize that it is important to understand the past. 

A People's History of the United States is similar in subject matter.  I read it several weeks ago and am glad I did.

I've got a stack of books waiting for me, including quite a few on my Kindle.  So, time to fire up the heated throw and settle down in my nice soft chair and get started.

Not Everyone Can Sweep Their Garden Clean...

...but I can!  It's covered with black plastic.

Our Saturday helper and I pulled out all the tomato vines that covered the plastic yesterday.  He shook the vines to collect all the little yellow and big green tomatoes.  Once the vines were smushed into our little cart and dumped, I used a broom to sweep the tomatoes into piles and he shoveled them into five gallon buckets.

We took a bucket to the chicken house, where they were almost immediately devoured.  We also picked up buckets of freshly mowed grass from the lawns.  Chickens like fresh grass, too.  It's good for them and it supplements their grain-based feed.

I've got buckets of tomatoes to dole out for next week.  Planting tomatoes late worked out well this year, as I did not have the drought problems that others had with tomatoes.  There is still a lot of chard left growing.  If we don't have more hard frost for a couple of weeks, the chickens will get buckets of chard, too.

The Almost Great Escape

It took a day for me to recover from my efforts in thwarting the Great Escape. Now that I've had a whirlpool bath and taken massive amounts of Ibuprofen for joint and muscle pain, I can look back on the event and laugh. (Sure.)

If you've followed this blog for any time at all, you know that we own a big bovine called Tinkerbell, who is the ringleader of our cow herd and has an adventurous spirit. She's the one who was found under a big round bale after breaking into the hay shed one year and the one who somehow got into the woods for a summer vacation another year.

On Monday morning, I heard loud mooing coming from the area near the lawn of our house. This is fairly unusual, as cows only moo when they really need to. This time, it was excitement which was responsible for the noise.  Tinkie was pushing down the pasture fence to munch on the uncut grass and was threatening to completely mash down the fencing to get onto the lawn. Other cows were cheering her on and starting to anticipate the security breach. It was a riot -- literally.

The pastures have been chomped down to the ground due to the lack of rain and we'd let the cows roam over three so that they'd have a chance to eat grass as it grew slowly. The lawn, however, has been neglected as far as mowing is concerned, and it was just too tempting.

I quickly got dressed and ran out to yell at the cows to stop. They did not stop entirely and when I went back inside to figure out what to do, they just kept on trying to get onto the lawn.

I picked up a stick and opened gates that would lead to the now harvested hayfield where there are sections of lush grass regrown. I tried to drive the cows out of the pasture near the lawn, hoping they'd see the open gates and circle round to the field. They were confused. Why was I upset with them? Weren't they using ingenuity and initiative to take care of their own needs?

So, realizing that they wouldn't leave off the attempt to free themselves of the pasture fence, I started walking from the pasture they were in through the other three, calling "Come on cowies!" over my shoulder. Eventually the brighter ones began to follow and, well since they are herd animals, the whole forty-five or so cows followed. Once they saw the final gate into the hayfield open they began to run through to the lovely green grass. Our little Hereford, Dinky, kicked up her heels in delight.

Okay. I shut the gate and began the uphill climb back through the pastures, closing gates behind me as I went. Then, I saw the five calves.

Cows "park" calves in safe places while they graze, periodically checking on them and nursing. These were the smallest herd members and became aware of the ruckus, grouped together, and timidly tried to figure out what the heck just happened and, just where were the mammas?

So began a second herding. Calves are instinctively shy of human contact and tend to run away, rather than follow or drive in front of you. It took patience and many arthritic trips up and down those hills before they finally caught sight (and hearing) of the herd. When they grouped near the gate hours later, with their mothers looking anxiously for them, I was able to reunite all herd members in the same pasture.

If you've ever thought you'd like to be a farmer and enjoy the quiet pastoral life, I think it is in the spirit of complete disclosure that you know that some days are like this.

Playing "Beat the Freeze"

Potted plants are being ferried down to the greenhouse each time I drive down the hill. I'm loading the Mule from the porches around the house.

Overnight temperatures are flirting with a freeze in the high thirties and low forties.

Yesterday, I spent some time cleaning up the sunny end greenhouse and the potting room. Today, I'll continue in the middle and shady end.

We pulled massive wisteria vines down last week off the middle and shady end greenhouses. There was so much material that it still hasn't been disposed of.

The idea -- and it works well -- is that the plant will naturally shade the greehouses in summer and then, when the leaves fall in the winter, sunlight can again warm those sections. Except that it has been growing for ten years and the branches have become so massive that less and less sunlight has been able to penetrate the sections. Wisteria began to grow INTO the greenhouse through whatever small openings it could find. Talk about a scary Halloween tale!

I doubt we killed the wisteria. It'll be back -- like Jason, or any other zombie. I'll just make it my business to cut it down drastically every autumn. Hey, it beats placing shadecloth over the large greenhouses!

It's noticeably brighter in the sections which were covered in vines. I'm hoping that I can motivate myself to continue upgrading and cleaning. The propane tanks were filled last month and small electric heaters are at the ready. There'll be no heating until the bitterest weather, and that will be just to keep the potted plants alive until Spring.

I'm cutting down big weed/trees and throwing them into the goat pastures, where they are found with great glee and eaten with gusto. We had a day and a half of rain only this week, and there isn't all that much weedy material in the pastures. So, I'm killing two birds when I attend to the "neatening up" around the farm.

Buckets of small yellow tomatoes and any distressed larger tomatoes go to the chickens along with excess chard. This provides them with extra, tasty nutrition which they seem happy to have. We are still eating Cherokee Purple, which finish ripening in the house.

The last of the hay was cut and baled last week. It was trucked over to the barn and placed under the overhang just before the rainstorm. Today, a helper will assist in placing it on the hay elevator and stacking it in the loft.

Sailors Take Warning

This morning started out with fluffy pink clouds which quickly took on bright coral bottoms. Moving quickly from North to South, Light grey clouds followed, gaining charcoal accents.

Not a drop of rain all day or yesterday, but it was a bit chilly and windy.

Tonight, looking out the same window, black altostratus clouds sporting small brownish puffs, are strung across the grey sky over a lemon colored sunset.

Rain

When I heard the rain beating down on the roof in the middle of the night, it was with a profound sense of relief. The land will heal now. Grass will grow again and the cattle will have something to eat besides precious hay bales meant for the dead of winter. The springs and wells will replenish themselves and the constant worry over water for the animals can recede somewhat.

I'm still recovering from several hours at the Farmers' Market, where I prepared apples for baking on the grill and oversaw making "apple piggies." It was much hotter than I anticipated and it really caught up with me by 2 p.m.

In the meantime, back on the farm, husband managed to get the square baler fixed and his Saturday helper helped him get the bales on the trailer and into the barn for stacking. Our new set-up, where hay elevators are now under roofing and placed in openings into the lofts is working well. The helper then stacked the hay neatly in the loft. We have more hay to cut if there is a dry spell later on in October.

Today, supposedly the temperature will plunge into the sixties and we'll have more seasonal weather all of a sudden.

Last week, it rained hard for less than ten minutes. I got soaked and so did the entire goat herd. We were pretty happy for the seven or eight minutes despite our sogginess.

Now, we're looking for days of rain. Hurrah!