The Secret Orchard – Part One

If you saw my last post about my dilemma choosing white paint, you might have noticed something was amiss when you saw the picture showing our house. Why are all those tree’s cut down? What’s with all the stumps?

The secrets out. We’re taking down some big old (dying, dangerous) pine trees to make room for a beautiful orchard and berry patch. It’s completed in my head, and trust me – it looks good.

On Sunday morning, our yard looked like this.

Late Sunday morning, while I shoved my face with this unbelievably delicious Farmers Market Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, from Keough Family Farms in Paris, Maine, Mr. A was up to no good. Or rather, lots of good. Lots and lots of wonderful pitchy loud noisy good.

No, I didn’t eat that entire pie. Yes, I did eat the rest of it. In the morning. I have no shame when it comes to Strawberry Rhubarb pie.

By early Sunday afternoon our yard looked like this. Mr. A had to stop using his chainsaw for about an hour while the neighbors grand-kid got married in her yard. Who doesn’t want a chainsaw ripping in the background of their wedding?

Let’s get a better perspective a la Mr. A and the point-and-shoot.

Throughout the week Mr. A worked hard digging up stumps, in the rain.

Have I ever mentioned I love him?

I do.

Today my yard looked like this. By the way, that brush pile is massive. Using Mr. A and our tractor as a gauge still does it no justice. Yes, that tire is coming off the brush pile.Yes, that is our ‘lumber yard’ in the background. We actually do use it. You should have seen it before the barn was started.

So, as of 7:00 on Wednesday night that’s where we are now. Mr. A back-hoeing the stumps out. Tom Cruise judging carefully analyzing his every move.

Winnie and Primrose enjoying their bones, not caring a bit what’s going on in the background.

And finally me, who completely forgot to make dinner because I was so excited to see my Orchard come to life that I’ve been dreaming of. I ended up making some soup and egg salad sandwiches. Ok, I admit I only made the egg salad, I heated up some soup. It however, was delicious.

On a side note, have I ever mentioned Primrose’s ridiculous ears she does when she’s incredibly excited/cheeky? I’m not sure I have.

Until next time my friends. In the mean time, I will be sure to keep clicking photos, hopefully not forget to feed my hardworking stud-muffin and you can rest assured I will be eating lots, and lots, of Strawberry Rhubarb pie.

Happy Landscaping and Pie Eating,

Heather

A Barnyard + A Happy Soul

As I sit here snuggling a hot cup of tea (yes, snuggling, it’s tucked by my side while I type) I realized I couldn’t wait to share an exciting experience I’ve been wanting to see for years – a live calf birth.

When I was in sixth grade I loved the smell of a farm. I loved cows. I didn’t even mind the smell of manure. So my family indulged me by getting me a few cow trinkets, including a mug I still own. They did not indulge my desire to paint a farm mural on my wall or drive me to the local farm (in a suburban town) at 5am to muck stalls before school since they figured the cow thing was a phase I’d get over.

Wrong.

This morning when we stopped in after church one of the cows was stirring, her bags were full, she was swollen and she was agitated. This was my chance.  We drove home, I did a few crafts here (which I’ll post about later) and then threw on my $2.00 church fair shit kickers (can you say church and shit in the same sentence?), flannel and camera and went up to the farm. Sure enough the lady’s water sack was out. There was no way I was leaving.

First I stood outside the gates. I didn’t want to upset her.

Then the farmer, seen below, said it was no issue if I came closer. Because she wasn’t gated yet I stayed by the feeder. Okay, I stayed in the feeder.

Yes, I’m in your feeder. No, I would not like to explain myself.

Once the mother was gated by herself, I plunked down on a fence about 5 feet from her and sat quietly, for about an hour while she gave birth. It was windy, it was cold, but it was incredibly worth it. You can click on the photo below to make it larger. In the first picture you can see a calf born about 5 days ago.

I can’t believe I got to see this. It was an incredible experience and I’m forever grateful. While it was happening I sat there up on the fence, smelled the farm, heard the tractor, watched the cows, crunched the hay and thought “well, I never got over it”.

My soul was happy.

Here’s to living a wished for experience whatever it may be,

Heather