Showing posts with label Hardwick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hardwick. Show all posts

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Playing Hooky


For much of the past week, I've been at StarField Farm with my friend Jayne.

She had a week's vacation and needed a major recharge. I was more than happy to have an excuse to spend time in the quiet of my personal "Rivendell" and recharge as well.

For the first time in a long time, I let myself just be. No deadlines. No writing projects. No to-do lists.

I immersed myself in the quiet and the day to day.

Watched the day lilies and was rewarded by seeing the first bloom.

There has been a little swallow's nest tucked in the beam of the back door porch. The babies had finally fledged and were looking mighty cramped in the nest, but were refusing to leave.


It's hard to see with my cellphone photo, but there are three fully fledged swallows crammed into this nest. The parents spent the better part of several days swooping over the nest and yelling at the babies to get off their asses and fly, damnit. Well, that's my translation of bird anyway.


Our most ambitious endeavor of the week entailed making strawberry rhubarb jam. The strawberries were ones I'd picked last June and frozen, when I knew I wouldn't have the time to deal with them. The rhubarb was fresh picked from just outside the kitchen door.

Until this year, I didn't know rhubarb was something to cook with or eat. It looked like weird celery. It's leaves are poisonous. Who looked at this strange plant and decided it was food?

The jam was fabulous. I adore making jam. For those of you interested, I don't use a recipe, per se, but have honed my methods from these sources:

https://nwedible.com/how-to-make-pectin-free-jam/ My favorite resource for playing with making jams.

https://www.southernfoodways.org/southern-summer-in-a-jar-jam-secrets-from-april-mcgreger/  same method as above,but with the basic ratio I've found the most helpful for fruit and sugar.

http://justhungry.com/strawberry-jam-copious-detail

And a few links from this blog, along with photos of past year's jamming: http://ljcbluemuse.blogspot.com/2012/06/strawberries.html
http://ljcbluemuse.blogspot.com/2013/08/we-be-jammin-blueberry-edition.html

Speaking of local food, we also ate tons of local asparagus and strawberries. It's hard to pass up local food in season. So we didn't. :)




I also culled the peach tree. (Full disclosure - this is a photo from last year, but the peaches were about the same size this year when I culled them.) This city-mouse has never had fruit trees before, but I have learned that peaches (and many fruit trees) do best if you cull the fruit when it is small to avoid overloading the tree and having it use all its energy to make fruit. Otherwise, you get decent harvests every other year rather than every year.

There is a kind of patience you learn living like this. You can't hurry peaches. They ripen in August, no matter how impatient you are for them.

Most of the nights this week were overcast, and while there wasn't a lot of opportunity to stargaze, we did experience a wonderful consolation prize: fireflies. Jayne and I spent most early evenings on the swing out front watching the dusk deepen, waiting as the birds settled for the evening, spotted the dragonflies dancing, and the first swooping bats. And then the fireflies would rise. I know they're just bugs, but there does seem to be something magical and otherworldly about them.

So Jayne and I spent a lot of time watching the world go by. Over the course of the week, we saw birds and hawks. The aforementioned dragonflies, bats, and fireflies. A deer came to visit on two occasions and I lost count of the rabbits. (The dogs, I'm sure, did not.) Jayne thinks she saw a bobcat slink by one morning. There is a deep silence here and it sinks into your bones. 

And then there was one clear night. I had fallen asleep with the dogs in the living room. When I woke up is was well past midnight. I took some time to stand out on the front stoop and watch the stars shine overhead.

It's easy to forget the stars. It's easy to forget to look up. It's easy to forget to breathe. 



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Friday, December 15, 2017

Darkness. Balance. Transformation.

There is beauty, too, in the starkness of winter. 



This isn't something I don't already know.

It's not something that I haven't been through numerous times before.

It's not even particularly revelatory or interesting.

It just is.

The ability to be sensitive to emotions and subtle changes around me is both a blessing and a curse. It's what fuels my creativity, but it also triggers anxiety and depression. That very sensitivity means that my filters are porous. It doesn't take a lot to bring me joy, but it also doesn't take a lot to bring me sorrow.

I've had a hard time staying in balance vis à vis my emotions of late. It expresses itself in multiple ways including fatigue, isolating behavior, and difficulty writing. From the outside, it can look like depression and it probably has some of that in the mix, but it also doesn't feel particularly bad. What feels bad is the guilt and irritation I experience from not having gotten things done.

There's a weird energy this time of year. All these subtle and not so subtle messages of Do! Buy! Engage! That kind of external mania turns me inward, as does the shorter days and the cold.

I don't think cyclic shifts in our productivity and activity is bad or wrong. As with most things, it's complicated. It depends.

Right now, I'm almost 2 months behind where I wanted and needed to be in drafting book 5 of the Halcyone Space series. And I'm trying to figure out how to keep on track while honoring my self and my mental and physical health. So bear with me here as I talk it out and work to make sense of it.

*

Creativity doesn't just happen; it's transformative. Both as its process and in its outcome.

In order to create, we must collect elements from the world around us - sensory experiences, emotions, ideas, memories, objects - and change them, imbue them with layers of meaning to form something new. That is one meaning of transformation.

The other is how that new creation, be it a painting, a poem, a novel, a song, or any other expression, changes the creator and the audience.

So we transform to create and our creation has the potential to transform us.

That's a lot of responsibility, along with a process that can seem messy or magical or just impenetrable.

But it starts with that sensitivity. Those porous boundaries. And they don't discriminate in what they take in.

*

Like many folks, I've been following the news cycle. It's nearly impossible to avoid it. My social media feeds used to be full of dogs, recipes, travel, book news, and Doctor Who memes. Now it's overwhelmed by fear, calls to action, outrage. And yes, there's a lot to be feared, much work to do, and to be outraged over. 

I don't think I can isolate myself from everything. Nor would I want to even if I could. Even if I felt no personal responsibility to the world, my creativity cannot live outside of it. That porous filter between me and everything? It can't be set to only take in some things and not others. Not if I want to continue to transform and create. 

And yet, I'm tired. The amount of energy it takes to preserve my emotional safety is enormous. It feels like I've run short of resources for anything else. So my writing suffers. My organization suffers, my social connections suffer. 

*

None of this is to imply I don't also have great joy in my life. While this year has brought incredible challenges, both to the world and to my small part of it, it has also given me much to be thankful for, not the least of which is StarField Farm and the beginning of a new adventure with my husband. Then there is the discovery of my extended family, found after a near 40 year search. (Another blog post for another day.)

*

I live in a part of the world where the days are getting shorter. Where creeping darkness is more than just a metaphor. It feels like the calendar year is accelerating to the end with all of its artificial marking of accomplishments that somehow need to happen in a particular timeframe. 

*

I don't have answers. I am doing the best that I can.

I will end with a few lines from Mary Oliver's brilliant poem, WILD GEESE. I need this reminder.

Perhaps you do, too.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
                              --From "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver

May you find the balance you seek in the days to come.

#SFWApro




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Monday, August 21, 2017

So much time, so little to do. . .


Scratch that.
Reverse it.

Despite my best intentions of writing something for the blog consistently every week, I fail spectacularly in August.

I just realized that it's been weeks since I added anything new here. I think this happens every August because of our summer routines. I also think this summer has been particularly difficult with the current political upheaval. But you didn't come here for politics - I talk about that more on Twitter and G+. So I'll simply talk about some of the lovely things that have been keeping me busy.

We live this fiction that things slow down in summer, but for us, life has been quite hectic these past few weeks. 
 
August is the time when we usually take our family vacation to visit my in laws in rural Maryland and this year was no exception.


To be fair, it's hard not to do anything but stay in the moment with a view like this. And such was our view for a full week. There is something healing and centering about the ebb and flow of the water and the endless parade of clouds across a blue sky. The time we spend here is the soul's version of a field lying fallow for a bit. It recharges and reenergizes me.


We came home to an overflowing garden, full of summer's bounty. This is the time of year I can barely keep up with what comes out of the 6 raised beds my husband plants and then we get a weekly farm share as well. Yikes.

I've been chopping and freezing tomatoes and pickling cucumbers and zucchini in an old crock a friend gave me. We're on our 3rd or 4th pickling load and the fridge is full!

And then there are the peaches.


For the first time in my life, I have a property with fruit trees. In January, we bought what will ultimately be our retirement plan, but for now is a weekend/retreat space about 90 minutes from Boston in Central Massachusetts. As the seasons have changed, we've started to learn what lives on the property. And the most delightful discovery has been the 3 peach trees. After last year, where there was no stone fruit at all north of NJ, our trees are laden with sweet peaches.

Today, I prepared a crockpot full of what will be peach bourbon butter, sliced and froze 3 quarts of peaches, and made 4 halfpints of peach syrup. And I still have most of the 3 boxes of peaches I picked this past weekend. There will be at least as many more ripe next week to pick.

We've named the place StarField Farm and on a clear, dark night, the sky overhead is, indeed, full of stars.

Right now, we're in the midst of construction, which is another claim on my time.



When it's finished, this will be a large garage/workspace with a car lift on the ground floor. The upper floor will be a master suite with a living room/office/spare room.

It's been a fascinating process to see something go from concept to drawn plans to hole in the ground to the shell of a building in just a few months.

We're currently only able to spend 1-2 weekends a month there and wonder of wonders - this 'city mouse' has fallen hard in love with small town rural living.

A few days ago, I attended the Hardwick Fair. They had a ceramics category in the arts and crafts judging, so I entered this handbuilt teapot. 



Not only did it win first prize, but it was awarded a premium and I was given a rosette ribbon. Not too shabby for my first fair!




It would be easy for me to mock the earnestness of the fair and its attendees. There's a lot that could be described as small town cliche - the tractor parade, the cow showing, the pit bbq, the canned goods judging, the yarn spinning demonstration, the live music. But I loved being there. Every part of it. It was a town wide block party and it showed off the best of people's hard work and hobbies. Also, I helped judge the Literary Contest. I suspect I've been swept up into the Fair forever.

And yes, I'm writing, too. Work proceeds on Halcyone Space book 5 and I'm in the midst of finishing a short story for a themed anthology.

So I'm still here. I just may be a bit quiet on the blogging front until mid September. It's nearly tomato canning time, after all.







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