Sheepish

Future Prospects

In the ten months we have called this spot home, it has occurred to me more than once that I wish we had started this particular adventure years earlier.  Perhaps at no time is this sentiment more obvious than when talk turns to the planting of trees.  The rewards of such processes are not noticed within the timeframe of a growing season, as I am used to with the vegetable garden experience.  In fact, it is a process that requires me to do math involving numbers that find me a good deal closer to fifty than I am right now.  There is no instant gratification that comes with these babies.

 (Beaked Hazelnut)

 (Hawthorn)

This gesture however, the act of planting trees, balances out the seasonal display of vegetable and flower gardening.  I think that at it's core, it is a gesture of hope for the future.  Akin to that of raising children, it is a gesture that firmly states a belief of the inherent good in the world.   And a desire to do right by all things.

 

Perhaps best left said by Janice May Udry in her book "A Tree is Nice", one of my favourite children's books.

"A tree is nice to plant.  You dig the biggest hole you can and put the little tree in.  Then you pour in lots of water and then the dirt.  You hang the shovel back in the garage.  

Every day for years and YEARS you watch the little tree grow.  You say to people, " I planted that tree."

They wish they had one so they go home and plant a tree too. "

**Incidentally, our trees came from a nursery in Quebec specializing in cold hardy varieties of trees, perfect for our growing conditions here on the homestead.  They go by the name Hardy Fruit Trees and are highly recommended.

Have a great day folks.

xo

 

 

Things that go bloom in the night

I feel that I must say this every year, but just like that, it feels like Spring.  The view from my kitchen window in the early hours of yesterday was distinctly more green than the day before.  

 

I never tire of this - this circle of the seasons.

xoKaren

Heeding the Warning

Somewhere deep in my thoughts I knew a proper, professionally built fence lived in the realm of wishful thinking.  The cold truth of a reasonable yet regretfully unaffordable price tag brought those wheels screeching to a halt.  I deluded myself into thinking my garden would need no protection - the reality was that critter sightings around our homestead fall into the category of rare occurrence anyway.  That's actually what I told myself.

Literally, the next morning we awoke to find a deer hanging around in back of the house.  It was not quickly passing through either.  It was the sort of visit that involved a lot of sniffing and poking around.

A few days later we were visited by a wild turkey.  With the exact kind of demeanour exhibited by the deer.  Scoping out the area is how I would describe it....taking mental notes for later of what options for eating lay in the vicinity.

It was then that I considered myself warned.  And called "Game On".

For the foreseeable future you can find me building a fence.  Or at least something that resembles one.  Either it will keep animals out and veggies in based on my construction prowess.  Or, it will be so badly put together that any interested parties will take one look and keep walking - giving the crazy lady and her fence a wide berth.

 

Time will tell.

xo

Hack jobs

 According to the Urban Dictionary, a hack job can be defined in part as "A crude and improvised or temporary solution to a problem, designed to be more functional and timely than precise, durable or of good quality."  

And, this my friends is precisely what this post is all about.  Turns out, we are the living manifestation of the definition of "hack jobs".

(In the face of gale-force winds, this strategy involving cinderblocks and rope kept our woodshed roof in place protecting our wood pile.  Not lying overturned beside it.)

(In an attempt to redirect Spring melt and rains away from the house, metal sheeting and paint buckets provided us with a water catchment strategy. )

(Our most recent hack job involving pallets screwed together to provide an enclosure for that all important component of any good garden - kitchen detritus and yard waste.)

Despite their shoddy appearances, I have to say that I am as proud of these cobbled together "improvements" as I am of the detail oriented work of choosing paint colours and installing wooden mouldings.    

 I am happy to add the title of Hack Job Artist to my long list of job titles.

 

Working our Land

There remains little on our homestead that would indicate it was ever a small family farm.   Our knowledge of the people who originally settled here remains something that lives on the list of things-to-do, of the Wintertime (read - quieter time) realm.   For now, I like to think that our home must have brought the same happiness and fulfillment then as it does now.  A special place that saw families settle and grow and even thrive here.  The cold hard truths about life in the late 1800's are banished to the back of my mind for the time being.  

There are old outbuildings in our backyard.  Split rail fences surround what must have once been a pasture.  And rocks.  Piles of them here, there and everywhere.  Proof that this land must have been worked many moons ago.  And yet.  When we first set foot on this property I was immediately struck by the fact that not a single garden bed existed.  I suppose as society moved away from it's agrarian roots, our homestead started it's slow decline in terms of keeping families fed.  The cleared land became subject to the invasive whims of tree species like buckthorn and prickly ash.  Biodiversity was all but eliminated.

(February 2016)

We have begun the long and exhausting task of working our land.   Space is being made for different species to thrive.  In this first growing season our efforts are focussed on freeing the orchard....and planting elderberry, raspberry, serviceberry and hazelnuts to slow the spread of the invasive trees.

(March 2016)

 Thoughts of food forests and permaculture may not have been the driving forces behind the actions of the settlers of this land....but they are what motivate me to make this land our own.  Nourishing ourselves through the work of our hands.  Same as it was in days of old.

Weekending

Such a beautiful weekend to celebrate and welcome in equal light and dark.  Full of sunshine, and yes, still cold.  But with the distinct vibe of promise and good things to come.

Despite being the only person who reads this lovely collection of children's books anymore, my seasonal shift would not feel complete without the ceremonial switching up of books. Winter ones happily set away until their time comes around again.  Replaced by  those focussed on the season at hand.

From this weekend forward, the laundry will carry with it that distinct smell of outdoors - a welcome change from a Winter of  woodsmoke scent.

After a long Winter's sleep, every living thing is stretching towards the sun.  I am grateful to live here, where the seasons shift from frigid, to cold, to warm, to hot and all around again. I would not be the same person without these markers of time.   

Happy Spring all.

 

The Wilds of March

(this time last year)

(currently)

As I ready myself for the official coming of Spring I feel a note to self is in order.  

Karen.  Do not, I repeat do NOT to be fooled by the way March has presented itself so far.  March weather swings all ways.  Control thoughts of seeds and soil, for the cold hard truth is that the average last frost date in your hood is mid-May.  As in, two months from now.  

This public service announcement has been brought to you by your rational brain.  It remembers where your twitchy brain does not.

 

 

 

Where the Wild Things Aren't

There were of course many factors that helped us decide on the move to our homestead.  While it may seem ridiculous to some, I am putting it out there that a desire to live within a more balanced world with wild creatures was absolutely one of them.  I imagined many opportunities for quietly watching all sorts of wildlings going about their daily business.  With less noise and development, cars and concrete regular viewings were pretty much guaranteed - right?  

Turns out that reality could not have been further from the truth.  

Turns out that less noise and development, cars and concrete means they have more space to roam around far away from me and my prying eyes.

Turns out that they have no reason to show themselves.  And move around at night, when they know I am not looking.

 

I admit now that this is as it should be.  Those rare times when I am granted access are a gift.  And I will always treat them as such.

5 years old

Today marks 5 years since I stepped my LittleWool endeavour up a notch and made myself a place on etsy.   When I think back to what my life looked like way back then it feels like many more years than just 5.  I remember clearly that the decision to bring my handmades to this venue was big for me.  I was a homeschooling Mama of 3 three girls ranging in age from 5 to 16.  Time to create was a precious commodity for me - either alone or with my girls.  

It is safe to say that my time is much more my own these days.  The two biggest girls are living the lives of university students away from me.  The one who remains has joined the ranks of public school student and without so much as a look back.  

(Little flower)

(Sheep table mat)

(Mother Earth and her children)

And me - I am enjoying all the different things that make up my days and my person.  I work outside the home now three days a week, on an organic vegetable farm (love).  I am working on the biggest garden and orchard I have ever known on my very own homestead (love).  And I am still handmaking away at this little business involving wool and wood (love).

 To mark this occasion I am offering a 15% discount in my etsy shop until next weekend.  Just type in "5yearsold" in the coupon code part of the transaction.  

Happy Sunday!

 

Sloppy

In all my years as a city dweller I had often heard reference made to "the other season".  Known to rural folks as Mud Season.  Within the confines of concrete and asphalt I remained blissfully unaware of the scope of this unofficial season.  

 And with each passing warm day I am getting better acquainted with what is to come.  My astute spider senses are telling me that hip-waders may be a good investment.

 

 I am considering this our seasonal initiation for Spring.   It's a downhill ride from here.

Happy Thursday all.