So many decisions. Bodacious in the front, looking at a llama with no head (not really, just not showing). Llamas are curious, and Bodacious lives up to her name.
SP is behind Bodacious. She sets up perfectly all the time. What lovely girls.
Maria (pronounced like the song about the wind, long i) seems so plain but is a sweetheart.
SF (I should remember what the initials stand for but do not) is a beauty. Love the markings. Love the lines.
Et Cetera, aka Etc. is older but so similiar to my Tess. Hard to say no to.
But the winner, at least for now, is Et Cetera. She's at the farm, and she's ours! And yes, we love her lots. She's one of "the girls."
As any blogger knows, it is truly great to have a reader now and then. Even better when one comments. Lucky for me I have my brother, David, who both reads and comments. Interestingly, he often comments off-blog, so it is he whom I have to thank for reminding me of exactly how many days it has been since my last post, thus prodding me to action. (He also reminded me I spelled Porky Pig's name incorrectly in an earlier post--and honestly, David, I do appreciate the correction, and I am still waiting for that photo of you).
Back to the business of this post. In a modern mashup of a Sherwood Anderson short story, I had a "stolen day." Actually, if you follow me on Twitter, Facebook, or any of my social networking sites, then you already know that this summer has been a challenge at many levels. Unlike the student in the story, I have been seriously ill this summer, but like him, I had a GREAT day. In a way, I have had many stolen days, ones away from the game plan you form for a summer vacation. This past Thursday, however, was a great stolen day. It marked a turning point toward wellness and some quality time with a dear friend and "the girls."
Carol came to make sure I was staying put, not doing anything I should not do (I have been so good--who would want a relapse) and to spend a quiet afternoon. A simple lunch, a short visit to the girls, and needle felting. When it comes to artistic talent, I fail abysmally. God made interior decorators to handle getting "the look," so when Carol said we would needle felt and make ladybugs, I went into low-grade panic. When I tell you that if I can do this, then anyone can, you know it was not too hard. Time consuming, but with great catch-up conversation, it was so much fun. Among friends and llama owners, there is never down time. We swapped recipes, Carol gathered apples for sauted apples (a chunky applesauce and very good), and we did "girl talk." The day was like chicken soup for the soul, and I would have to say that this was one of the best days of a quiet summer.
Growing up in a small town, you learned to look forward to Saturday matinees. They were double features, with a newsreel or two, and several Looney-Tunes cartoons with the Warner Bros. signature. Tom and Jerry, Donald Duck, Mickey Mouse, Woody Woodpecker, Porky Pig and a host of Disney characters that we looked forward to. In fact, we counted the week off by days toward Saturday afternoon. We gathered at the Boyd (the only one to survive the wrecking ball), Nile, or College theaters in Bethlehem, PA. My favorite was the College Theater, because if you got there early enough, you could sit in the mohair seats or couch in the balcony, in front of an etched blue glass coffee table, in front of the normal balcony seats. You felt special sitting there, and yes, you guessed it--we always got there early enough for our group to have these special seats. In the early 1950s, the cost of this entertainment was a quarter. Mid-1950s, inflation raised the price to fifty cents (and did we whine). Those good old days...
Which brings me to Ma and Pa Kettle--they were one of my favorite series, along with Francis the Talking Mule, The Thin Man and the Topper films. In the good old days, Hollywood knew how to take a movie and develop it into a money-making series. Today, sitting on our back porch, which doubles in actual use as a front porch (the Chinese would understand this duality), Mickey and I morphed in my imagination into Ma and Pa Kettle. We often joke about it, but only our generations know the reference. Here sits Pa Kettle, down home on the farm. I really look like Ma Kettle today in my baggy jeans and hair curlers, but, you guessed it again, I wasn't letting Mickey snap that photo. And when Mickey reads this blog, I know he will remind me that our farm bears no resemblance to the one the Kettles and their children inhabited. The Kettles just, as all good movies do, sometimes touch our hearts and always our funny bones, reminding us just a bit of ourselves.
Today we took a short ride to visit Cierra at Buck Hollow Llama Farm, where she was bred. As always, it was good to see her. Unlike humans, llamas don't really show their pregnancy almost until they are ready to give birth. It was wonderful to see Carol and Doug and spend some time with them, however brief. Carol's knowledge is expansive, so a Q & A session is always a part of visiting. We had a lovely time, even though it was brief (our doing, never their hospitality which is boundless). I miss Cierra and am anxious for her to return.
Compared to other years, our second harvest, peaches, proved a bumper crop. We definitely owe it to our llamas, because their leavings make the best fertilizer. Had I not lived through the difference, I might not believe it, but even our farmers are impressed. You can be sure this fall the trek from the barn to the orchards will begin again.
I would be seriously remiss not to give credit to the man who manages the orchard, my husband. The two stamp orchards (one is definitely a mini) are his province. It is the one thing on the farm that he loves tending. And it shows, don't you think.
Life on The Farm is a learning curve. We harvested our sour cherries on time, and the yield gave us one great deep-dish pie. We waited too long, however, with the peaches. Still, we had a nice yield, but lessons for next year include:
Pick 2 days earlier than the ripeness you want.
Cull about 1/3 of the yield early, so the harvest yields larger fruit.
The one day I am totally off line, great news breaks, and I find out one day later. Our wonderful guard llama, Cierra, is pregnant. We were beginning to worry that something was wrong with her being open for a while, because she did not take the first two times. We all know the adage, "Third time's the charm." In the middle (almost end) of a summer vacation that was a challenge of a different ilk, Carol's news was indeed welcome. Sixty days from conception Cierra will return to the farm for the 11+/- gestation period. At that point, Tess and Rev will probably go back with Carol to Buck Hollow Llamas to be bred. After all, Carol has the best herdsire in the United States, the Chilean import Eskalero, Late spring looks like it will be a busy time at The Farm with new crias to tend.
My Grandfather lived through the Great Depression, in a time when there was no welfare, no government assistance programs. Those entitlements came later. For his generation, you just somehow learned to survive. Part of my Grandfather's survival skills included harvesting edibles from the woods. After all, if you knew what you were doing, you just might find dinner. But there were worse things than hunger and unemployment; one wrongly- picked mushroom, like this Aminita we found on the edge of one of our farm roads, has enough poison to kill 200 hundred people. Animals instinctively know that, and thankfully, so does my husband. He learned that from his father, who would have been my grandfather's near contemporary.
Yet another beautiful but deadly mushroom is the red one in the above picture. I do not know its name, and neither did my husband, just that it was a killer mushroom, one his father told him never to touch. In this area, our "neighbors" are multi-generational farmers for whom many of the township roads were recently named. They too know what not to pick, but with farm acreage for sale, it will not be too long before city folk invade the quiet of the country, wanting what we have found. Hopefully, they too will learn what not to touch.
When I reflect on the wisdom of my fathers, I often wonder what happened to the knowledge that was considered so commonplace in their generations. They seemed more connected to the land at a time when rural was still easier to find, and they seemed to know everything about nature and living off the land. They hunted, fished, and fed their families locally long before my generation "re-purposed" the concept. And they knew how to fix things--any and all things. Perhaps that was because they could not afford to buy new, because they did not live in a disposable society. Call it whatever it was, they were smart savvy people, self-sufficient, and just maybe, the greatest generation.
Even the smallest microcosms of life flourish on The Farm. Beneath the small dark hole dwells a spider within layers of gossamer filament. The web of life is sometimes tenuous, but this home survived when the rains came. This image may just get me back to the 365 Days Flickr Challenge.
If the monsoons that have swept Pennsylvania remind you of that classic Tyronne Power and Myrna Loy film of the same title, then likely you are my age or thereabouts, or are a TCM-type fan of classic movies. You know the ones, often made under the studio system--while horrible for actors--certainly produced with consistency great films (think 1939's output, for example, and Bette Davis' 4 landmark movies). I could go on and on about classic films, but I won't. That's another post on another blog. Suffice it to say that I spent so much time with my grandparents that my artistic imprint goes back a generation or two behind where mine should be (I am indebted to their influence in things beyond film...).
All of this setup brings me to the heart of this post: rains are a nearly permanent fixture in this part of the country. The Farm is not in danger of flooding yet, although the two holding ponds that funnel into the main pond are working overtime. The run-off from our Number 2 farm feeds downhill into our Number 1 farm (Mickey's classifications, and they have stuck)
As I approached the reality of walking the dog and getting to the girls (this weather is not great for an asthmatic with pneumonia two weeks out of surgery), I asked for a window to open in the deluge. Eerily, it did. I needed 20 minutes for a fast turn-around for the dog, llamas, cleaning the paddock, getting the leavings to the designated spot--a ride in the golf cart to Number 2--washing tools, and getting back to the barn. Tight turnabout but I made it; just as I was pulling into the barn, the rains came. I was hoping for a bit longer window, but it was like someone Up There was saying, You asked for a window, not a door.
Worse things can happen than being stuck in the barn during a rainstorm. I made a decision to give the girls hay--2 flakes each--(I know better, Carol, but you know I tend to over-feed) because it rained all night, and it has been raining almost all day with no let up in sight.
Does Rev look happy--absolutely. Llamas work on some kind of interior mantra: waste not, want not. Humanity could learn a thing or two from llamas (now that should be my next post, hmmm...).
No difference with Tess, either. Happy creatures all.
Summer has been unseasonably cold (I'm OK with that--good for the girls) and wet (not good for agriculture). Winter's predictions call for unseasonable cold and snow. If it snows as hard as it has rained, even we will have problems with containing the snow until Spring's meltdown. We are beyond saturation point as I type, and squishy sounds abound as we walk to the cars to leave for brunch.
If you want to watch some really good movies, check out TCM's Summer Under the Stars 2009 for classic movies with real stars (who knew how to act). Each day in August is devoted to a star, showcasing the actor's body of work. Great viewing for any day, but especially a rainy one.
My favorite prayer book, My Daily Bread, is printed with a Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur, hallmarks of a Catholic text, this one by Father Paone. At under $10 with shipping, it is a wonderful book (works for all faiths, I think) of prayerful reflections that remind me of my daily blessings.
If ever you have lent someone a book that did not find its way back to you, this was that book. Then, years ago in speaking with a parent of one of my students, somehow this social conversation turned to books not returned. You guessed it; this very kind parent bought me the book, and it has been with me ever since. I'd like to think that it makes me a better person.
What it does do is give me a daily dose of thankfulness for the goodness in my life, my family, friends, and yes, my animals.
SP is behind Bodacious. She sets up perfectly all the time. What lovely girls.
Maria (pronounced like the song about the wind, long i) seems so plain but is a sweetheart.
SF (I should remember what the initials stand for but do not) is a beauty. 
Love the markings. Love the lines.
But the winner, at least for now, is Et Cetera. She's at the farm, and she's ours! And yes, we love her lots. She's one of "the girls."
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