Anything But Routine

I am making a thoughtful, concerted effort to enjoy my summer more than last summer. Last summer I was lazy and unmotivated. This summer, I am making a choice to not waste it. Sure I still sit in the evenings and watch tv. Sometimes I spend the entire day in my chair, but the vast majority of days I'm doing something!

Here's what I've been up to:

There are road trips with good friends...

Going places I've never been! Such as a trip to the waterfall on a back road I don't know.

Cookouts involving adorable chicks hanging out on shoulders. Makes me want chickens even more!

Edge of the East Sidney Dam, where we had a big barbeque. Long drive, but worth it!

Skipping stones at East Sidney Dam; and some of the views.

I've been playing a lot of Badminton lately. I'm not really that great at it.

And I've been playing with camera settings. Right now I'm loving the Macro setting; getting lots of cool shots!
By the way, I have a Canon Powershot A2500. I got it to replace my old Powershot which has, unfortunately, developed a black spot that shows up on the picture. Gramma got one and I liked it. Then it went on sale ($58.99) and I snapped one up!

I like it, it's a great point and shoot. I have to say though, that I almost never just post the photos straight out of the camera.

	* I send all my photos through my (old and terribly outdated) Photoshop 7. (I wouldn't trade it for the new ones though!)
	* I'm a big fan of PW's Action Sets. Even though most of them don't work well with my outdated PS.
	* Also, I delete way more photos than I share with here or on my flickr, but ultimately I am more satisfied with the quality of the photos I've been taking this year.

Today I'm grateful for long summer days, sunshine, and sweat rolling down my back. Even though it means hot days, it also means honest work outside.

Until next time,

A Weekend for Friends

We went to the Arkville Fair this weekend. By "we" I mean my best friend, Rachel, and I.

This is Rachel. We've been friends since the fourth grade.
There was a parade with cars...
and horses...
and of course tractors! This is farm country after all!
There was a knight I posed with, and a lovely cow.
Good times with a wonderful person!
Even though Arkville is quite a drive for us, it was worth it. I wasn't overly impressed with the vendors, and we were promised a quilt show that was no where to be found, but it was a lovely town. Every single person we encountered was extremely nice. It's great to get that small town vibe away from home! We enjoyed ice cream and acting like fools (dancing... they had some good music!).

Lots of other stuff went on this weekend, but there are a lot of pictures to share and I feel like this is enough for one day!

Today I am grateful for Miss Rachel, a constant inspiration in my life.

Until next time,

A Bustling Week

This morning there was a cow in the road.


This year's raspberries forming on bushes planted last year.
Not an unusual sight on the back roads maybe, but on the main highway that connects all these little towns? A big happening. The cheeky cow was being moved and decided to stroll into the road for a minute. You should have seen Mr. Bishop hustle out after her, yelling at her to get back where she belonged. The poor cow was quite startled and stumbled, but she was alright. A grazed knee is a heck of a lot better than being road burger.

I was pretty startled too. And I didn't get a picture. It all happened too fast and I was much more concerned with stopping the vehicle than snapping photos.



I have been working all week, both jobs, and am looking forward to tomorrow off. Tomorrow is, after all, my only brother's 20th birthday. We're having Dirt Cake, and yes, I'll get the recipe and some pictures too. :)



I got my acceptance letter for full time college. I have a few things to tie up still (like financial aid), but you know, I think I'm looking forward to it.



Otherwise I have been taking a lot of photos and playing around with my (very outdated, but wouldn't trade it for the world) Photoshop. If you're interested, you should pop on over to my flickr account and have a look. I don't post all of my photos here and more day to day stuff can be seen there!

I am grateful to have two jobs, even if I'm grumbling about them today. It is one of those perfect summer days of utter beauty and I have all of one and a half hours to enjoy it. But that's still something.

Until next time,

Weekend Gone

The tomatoes are finally growing. I say finally as if they're really late, but they're not. Even though our growing season is a month late this year, tomatoes don't really get going until late July and August. So they're not late, I'm just impatient! The farmer's market had some lovely tomatoes, but they are green house grown, so they have an edge. Ours are coming along though!



Mom and I tried out the new dog clippers we got and shaved down the boys. Wow is it a lot easier when you have the right tools! Who knew? Us, the boys, the carpet, the freezer (our make-shift grooming table), and the blanket we had over the freezer were covered in loose hair. It was something else, let me tell you. I may be picking dog hair out of my teeth for days! We went outside to check on what the other members of our family were up to and to shake out the blanket.







Gramma and my brother Ben were out digging a railroad tie out from under the ground so the mower doesn't hit it anymore. (God only knows why they were there in the first place, the old railroad bed is nowhere near our property. Then again, we dig a lot of interesting things out of the ground around here.) Then they were trimming branches all along the wood line, including the old crab apple tree so the mower could fit under it again. I can't speak anything of my brother's choice of yard work clothes, though he did eventually come back in and put shoes on!



All in all, it was lovely weekend. The weather was sunny and warm and breezy and perfect. I hope yours was just as nice. We had fireworks on Friday, which I watched from a pile of bags of dirt outside the store with my best friend and some other people I love, a lazy day at work on Saturday filled with conversations with the wonderful people of this town, and a Sunday full of family activities and some really wonderful bonding time.

Today I am grateful for the long days of summer and the friends, food, and togetherness it brings.

Until next time,

Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Fourth my friends! I thought I'd share some pictures.

We didn't have the greatest weather as it was cloudy and threatening to rain most of the day. I'm good with rain most of the time... but when it coincides with fireworks I'm disappointed. I love fireworks! We didn't have to worry though - the rain held and we enjoyed a lovely display.

I didn't get any pictures of the fireworks (didn't bring my camera... whoops!), but here are the clouds.


As you can sort of see, storm clouds were passing, followed by cheerful fluffy white clouds, followed by more storm clouds! Strange weather.


Here's a few dark cloudy rolling ominously towards town - up the valley. Followed by a shot of down the valley, where most of the weather comes from. We can always see it coming unless something's up and a wind storm brings it over the mountain behind us, but that's so rare we have never seen it.


We didn't do anything special for the Fourth. Both mom and I had to work, so busy busy!

Hope yours was safe and special.

Today I am grateful for good friends to share fireworks with!

Until next time,

Fried Squash

Have you ever heard of fried squash? Not squash blossoms, but the squash itself? I don't know why, but some people like fried stuffed squash blossoms. Personally, they gross me out. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about thin slices of squash dredged in flour, salt and pepper, and then fried in the pan.

Mhmmm... my mouth waters just thinking about them.

They were a summer time treat when we were little kids, and remain pretty much the same now. Nearly everyone in my family is a fan. But I've encountered quite a few people lately who have no idea what fried squash even is. This is a deeply unsettling trend and needs to be stopped.

So, I'm here to share!

Traditionally, yellow summer squash is what we used, and is what we continue to use, but I'm sure any squash will do as long as it isn't overly sweet.

So, go pick some fresh yellow squash and bring it inside, 'cause things are about to get delicious!

Fried Squash

- Reserved bacon drippings - 1 yellow summer squash, about 1 pound - 1/4 to 1/2 cup unbleached flour - pinch of salt - pinch of pepper Set a pan on medium heat and add the bacon drippings. While fat is heating, thinly slice (1/2 inch or less) squash and set them aside. Then mix together the flour, salt, and pepper in a small bowl. Dredge each slice through the flour mixture, coating both sides. Place coated slices directly into the frying pan. They should sizzle. Continue until all the slices are in the pan without overlapping. Cook them in shifts if you have to; crowding increases the time it takes them to cook. Flip as they become golden brown on the bottom. Done when golden on both sides. Remove from pan and set on paper towel lined plate. Eat them hot! They're almost no good when cool.

P.S. There's a lot of different fats you can try when you fry, but my favorite for this application is bacon drippings. Every time we fry bacon, we pour the leftover fat into a glass jar and keep it in the fridge. We use it for a lot of things, including frying, because it has a high smoke point. Bacon drippings are a form of flavored lard, and lard is one of the healthiest fats out there. (Link to a super fantastic article by one of my favorite health food bloggers, I encourage you to read it if you're feeling skeptical!) We're incorporating it bit by bit into our lives and kicking Crisco out!.

Today I'm grateful for the support of a small, loving community. I went to the high school graduation today and was moved to tears plenty of times.

Until next time,

Tiny

While browsing Netflix today (it is, after all, my day off), I came across the new release movies. A particular one caught my eye: it's called TINY.

Tiny explores the tiny house movement, in which people give up their spacious homes for very small ones. We follow a young man, Christopher, as he builds a home on top of a tow behind flat bed wagon. Interspersed with cutaways to others who have built and live in tiny homes, the movie explores what it means to be home in a very touching way.

It goes on to discover the depths of the movement, which is revealed in a myriad of ways. Some people gave up their largess because of a near-death experience (or terminal illness). Others due to financial issues, but every single one of them realized that the meaning of life is not in things and possessions. Every person realized that life is not impressing others with material things, it is being who you are, it is doing what means something. They woke up from the endless race of things that many people don't ever even look up from.

I quite enjoyed the movie. It spoke to deep places in my soul, and it opened up a world I knew very little about. I can easily see myself among the tiny house owners sometime in the future.

I recommend it highly, if you get the chance!

Today, I am grateful that summer is here! Even if we are rushing headlong through it towards winter, I am grateful to be enjoying nice weather now.

Until next time,

Basic Brownies

Awhile ago, (more than a year!) I bought The Amish Cook's Baking Book but never tried a single recipe. It is a beautiful book inside and out. The Amish generally do not let photos of themselves be taken, but this book is filled with delicious looking baked goods, as well as the occasional photo of a woman's hands wrist deep in batter or dough. I find that refreshing because it directs the focus back on the food, unlike a lot of popular chef cook books that read more like an advertisement for themselves.

This book is also filled with small anecdotes of Amish life, as well as the fond memories of the author. Having such fond memories myself of growing up cooking and baking with my mom, this book really touches a deep place in my soul.

I was browsing a few cook books last evening, trying to find a recipe for something to bring into work as a little treat for a young woman who is leaving to have surgery and then pursue a teaching career. I settled on brownies out of this book. The brownies were scrumptious! I may or may not have had them for breakfast this morning. ;) Since everyone was delighted by these brownies, I thought I might share them with you.

Basic Brownies

- 1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour - 2 cups sugar - 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder - 1/2 teaspoon salt - 1 cup vegetable oil - 4 large eggs Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13 inch pan. (I used butter.) In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients. (I stirred together the wet and dry separately, then added the wet to the dry.) Stir vigorously for about 3 minutes, until the batter is well blended and creamy. Pour into prepared pan. Bake until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean, about 30 minutes.

Ideally, I'd like to use a different fat than vegetable oil for reasons very well outlined in this article, but for a recipe I was sharing with many other people, and my string of bad homemade brownie recipes in the past, I stuck with the original ingredients. I do look forward to tweaking it a bit though!

Link to the The Amish Cook's Baking Book on Amazon.

Today I am grateful for the lovely birds that serenade our house and yard with their songs.

Until next time,

Wildflowers

We have this patch of land on our property that isn't really ours. It officially belongs to the town, but it's been here forever with its beautiful stone wall and its graves. Oh yes, it's a family graveyard. Not our family. The one that originally settled this area as their farm. It's long since been broken up and sold off. 2 or so acres is ours, some of it is our neighbor's, and the vast majority is state land. Though you can go hiking and hunting and the like on it, we don't have many people do that. There aren't any paths that I am aware of through it.

Anyway, our piece includes the old graveyard. There's a civil war veteran and well as adults and children. All of them passed away in the mid to late 1800's. More than a decade ago, a fierce windstorm came through the valley and knocked all the tall pines in the graveyard over and onto the apartments/garage on our property. Plenty of the headstones were damaged, and the tree roots ripped up great swathes of land as they fell.

No, we didn't see any bodies or coffins.

Because this property technically isn't ours, the town takes care of it. By 'takes care of it' I mean someone comes maybe three times a year and mows it. They've mowed it once so far this year. It's back to being overgrown, but that's fine by me. There are lots of wildflowers in it this year which has made having a fresh bouquet much easier! I'm having a great time trying to identify these flowers. So far we have mostly hawkweed, what I've always been told is Indian Paintbrush, but lookes nothing like the pictures online. In fact it looks a lot like red hawkweed with just one head, and blue-eyed grass, which I'd never seen before this year. I grabbed some daises from behind the building at work and some orchard grass for its tallness in a vase. It's been a nice challenge keeping the pitcher/vase full.

Sunday June 15th firsts:

Garlic Scape

Wild Strawberry

Cultivated Strawberry

Today I'm grateful that growing season has been in swing for a month or so now, but harvesting has finally begun!

Homemade Lemonade

I'm a big fan of easy.

I'm a big fan of tastes good.

See where those two might not mix?

I dislike those lemonade recipes that call for a cooked syrup to mix with water. All that waiting for the syrup to cool down or adding lots of ice, which washes flavor away... Bah!

So here's an awesome, easy-as-anything lemonade that's ready in the time it takes for the sugar to dissolve.

Homemade Lemonade

- 3/4 cup sugar (link to the kind we use) - 1 cup fresh squeezed & strained lemon juice (about 6 lemons) - 6 cups water Pour everything into a pitcher, stir until sugar is dissolved. Pour over ice cubes and enjoy!

I like to add frozen strawberries instead of ice cubes. Not only do they keep it cool, they add a lovely hint of their flavor. I've doubled this recipe with rousing success. I can't recommend it enough!

Today I'm grateful for lovely rainy days. Especially when it means no garden watering!

Until next time,

Dashing for Summer

These long beautiful days make me feel as if good weather will last forever. It also makes me keenly aware than winter is looming closer with each day that passes me by. I am always meaning to do something soon, but before I know it, the whole season has zipped on by. I distinctly remember as a child these days seeming long and as if having three months off in summer was surely just as long as being in school. Not so anymore. Days just run by at a frantic pace.

I look at the clock: 1:15pm

I look down at whatever I'm doing.

I look at the clock a few minutes later: 3:45pm!

This makes me slightly concerned that there is a mischievous elf in the house, but all the other clocks say 3:45pm too! Poo.

I have a lot of issues with time. I spend a lot of time thinking about time. I am keenly aware that any moment may be my last. I am sure of where I am going, but I read once that fear, any fear, is fear of being hurt. Hurt emotionally or physically, it doesn't matter. I think that's true. Most of the fear of death stems from "Will it hurt?", and an equal amount of fear for the anticipation of sadness that we will leave behind us when we go. I hate the idea that I will cause someone the great sadness that is the loss of a loved one. ...but I digress.

Time is a concept thought up by our big ol' brains that somebody thought was an excellent idea, and now we all follow it. Sure a day always passes with more or less the same number of hours regardless, but when we add actual hours in numbers to the mix, we start anticipating.

"If I don't have to leave until 4:15, then I can wait until 3:30 to shower which means I have five hours until I have to do that. I need fours hours to make bread so I can start that in an hour and be fine..."

Ugh. I hate this. Constant clock watching jangles my nerves and makes me keenly aware that I have to go to work... in five hours.

I would love to (and one day hope to) run on my own time. Not have to constantly anticipate the time and thinking of what to do next.

Did I tell you I want a farm? Not just any type of farm, but a family type place where we produce our own food. Where I don't have to punch in and punch out on a clock. Where I don't have electricity bills to pay (well, not as much as I have now). That kind of a place. Peaceful, fulfilling, a true home.

Today I am grateful for all the beautiful spring flowers that all come one right after another, never leaving my windowsill empty of fresh wildflowers. Right now Hawkweed is blooming!

Chapter 4 - Her Name Was Marsy...

(This is a continuation: see chapter one right here.)

---

Her name was Marsy. Not Marcy, the way normal people would spell it. No, Gramma spelled it Marsy and it stuck. I wanted a flashier name, but she came with it and Gramma insisted that was her name. She did offer to let us change it, but none of us could think of anything better. (I was reserving what I considered the best name of all time for when I got my own dog: Champion.)

First thing, we took her to the vet to have her check up and schedule her spay. He took one look at her and pronounced, "Now this here dog's only about four months old!" He looked at Gramma pointedly. "How old did the shelter say she was?"

"Nine months."

"Well, see her teeth here?" He lifted up her lips. "These are her puppy teeth. She hasn't gotten her adult ones in yet. She can't be nine months! I'd say only four!"

Hoo boy. Gramma pursed her lips and rubbed them in that way that means she's not happy. She scheduled the spay, though a little further off than we were expecting. The pup jumped off the table, happy as could be, waving her tail and smiling at us.

So we did the puppy thing. Marsy was an exceptional dog. I know everyone says that about their dog, and then follows it with a 'but', and I'm no different. Marsy was exceptional, and everyone says that about their dog, but she really was.

She was a pit bull dachshund cross. She had the long and low body, but the bully type head with the big ol' jaws. She had the little rosebud ears to match, none of that long dachshund nonsense! When she got moving, she had the bully roll to her gait. Both of her legs on the same side of her body moved at the same time (think of a cat or giraffe), and it gave her quite the look! She was a brown dog with a very faint black mask that started off very dark, but faded significantly as she grew up. White patches on her chest and toes completed her. My best guess, as I got to know the breeds of dogs was Staffordshire Terrier - Standard Dachshund mix.

We didn't know much of her past, except she was found on the streets either traveling with her siblings or not, the story was never really clear. After a time, her past didn't matter at all. We began to learn about her. The first thing we learned was that she was very lady like. Very dainty, but not haughty or stuck up. She (after potty training) would sidle to the door and bark the most feminine, graceful bark you'd ever heard. If you didn't let her out in the amount of time she deemed appropriate, she would bark again - louder and with an annoyed look.

She was spoiled too. She cleaned off the plates before they were washed - same for the cooking dishes. She got every toy she ever could have wanted. She got four kids to play with. It was doggy bliss.

Today I am grateful for the beauty in people's souls, despite their outward appearances, and the ability to see it.

Chapter 3 - In Which a Dog is Found

(This is a continuation: see chapter one and chapter two right here.)

---

We returned home without much fuss. My family was excited about having a dog, even though it would be Gramma's dog, it didn't matter.

Before we went to the shelter, Gramma had some rules about the type of dog we could pick out:

1. It had to be small - no more than knee height. 2. It had to be an adult, none of this puppy nonsense. 3. It had to be female.

Of the rules, number 3 was most important. She wouldn't even entertain the idea of a male. No marking allowed!

So we packed off to the shelter about a week after we returned from Virginia. We found a lovely little spitz type dog the shelter called a Keeshond. They processed our paper work and approved us. When we went back, they reviewed our information again and then noted that Gramma had the most horrible thing imaginable... a cat.

Oh how they carried on! Apparently the dog was cat reactive and they were so upset that they had missed that initially and almost let the dog go home with us (we were there to pick her up). My Gramma, in her plain sensible way, asked, "May we at least try it and see if she's reactive with my cat?"

They hemmed and hawed and carried on some more while Gramma and I stood by. They were a very dramatic bunch (and still are, but I may be biased. I don't particularly like their practices or policies. That is much of the reason I am buying a dog... but more on that later!).

They said no. Gramma was upset. I mean the cat hid all day under the bed and came out twice a day - in the morning for food and the box and in the evening or night for the same. Once in a great while she would deign to be touched by human hands, but only for a few seconds each time. After many, many years Gramma convinced the cat to like her and the cat would crawl on her lap while she watched a ball game. The cat (Snookers) really would have been in no danger.

I was secretly happy that they had said no, because I hadn't wanted a five or six year old dog, I wanted a younger creature.

We went to another shelter in our county a few weeks later to look at a spaniel mix with a funny eye. We took her out and she ran around a bit but was really excited to get out and run around with a person (me) at the other end of the leash. She was a cute dog and really sweet, but bigger than Gramma was looking for. I didn't much like her either. As we were putting her back, we spotted a pug and asked about her. She was on hold.

Gramma turned to me and said, "What about that brown one that was out front when we came in?"

I made a face. I didn't like the brown one either. It was so plain. "Are you sure it was a girl? It looked like a boy," I said in hopes that she would give up on it and move on.

To my dismay she shook her head and said, "No, it was a girl, I saw when she jumped on the fence. Let's ask this worker right here."

They gave us the leash with a little brown mutt attached. They told us she was about 9 months - the very limit for my Gramma's 'no puppies' rule - and wasn't expected to get bigger. We took her into the yard and did the same thing we had done with the spaniel. Gramma stood and watched while I got dragged around by this energetic little thing. After while Gramma said, "I think she's tiring out, she isn't too high energy. What do you think?" I knew Gramma was going insane or something. That dog wasn't tiring out at all, but I couldn't breathe so I just shook my head.

We headed inside and Gramma paid for the little brown mutt. We got to bring her home that very day.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Today I am feeling nostalgic and so I am grateful that we did take a chance on that dog. Even if I didn't want her to begin with. I was pretty picky for a girl who was desperate for a dog, and I'm grateful I didn't get my way.

Until next time,

Chapter 2 - Changed Minds

(This is a continuation: see chapter one right here.)

---

Then, when I was about twelve my Gramma and I went to visit my aunt and uncle. Uncle Kenny is Gramma's son after all. We drove for twelve or so hours and arrived at their house where I was delighted to discover a Basset Hound named Ginger.

Ginger was stubborn, but sweet as anything. She was papered and AKC registered (facts I knew nothing about, but my eyes filled with stars nonetheless). Her full name was "Gingerbread Shortcake." She was a glorious copper color with small patches of white on her chest and her toes. While she was lovely, she was also a typical hound type. If you didn't have food you were unworthy of her efforts.

It was also at my aunt and uncle's house that I learned about Penny.

Everyone's family has had a dog like this, or a story of one: The Dog With Perfect Manners. The Dog That Was Smarter Than Any Other, Including Some People. The Perfect Dog.

Penny, long since gone at the time, was The Perfect Dog, and there have been many stories told of her intelligence. My Gramma picked out a small brown mutt and gave it to Uncle Kenny and Aunt Lori early in their relationship. She got out once and after agonizing hours searching for her, my weary aunt and uncle returned to their apartment to find her sitting next to their door, giving them a look as if to say, "Oh, there you guys are. What took you so long?"

On the last afternoon of our visit, I remember standing at opposite ends of the room from Gramma. She was leaning down petting Ginger when she straightened up and looked me in the eye. She then said something I never expected to hear:

"I think I want a dog. How about we start looking when we get back home?"
I came away from that visit with a renewed sense of love for all things dog and an invitation to come with my aunt and uncle on their cross-country trip next summer. Not to mention a cloud of bliss at the prospect of getting a dog!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Today I am grateful that the daffodils are starting, and crocuses have been up a week already.

Until next time,

Chapter 1 - Anything For a Dog

I have always been an animal person. Moreover, I have always been a dog person.

At one point in my early life, we had a dog named Scooter. Scooter was a very young dog, and either a purebred Old English Sheepdog, or an OES mix that very much looked like a purebred. I don't remember when he came into my life, but I distinctly remember the day he left. As any typical day, my sisters and I came home from school, but Scooter was no where to be found. We searched high and low, under the porch, and in places it was impossible or such a large dog to hide (like the couch cushions). We were sure he'd gotten out of the yard or something and went to find mom. She told us that he was somewhere else, with a new family.

Turns out, mom couldn't handle the whole puppy thing in addition to everything else going on, and re-homed him without telling us. I was upset, but our lives changed in dramatic ways soon after and I forgot him for the most part.

When I was seven, mom left our dad and we moved back to the old homestead where she grew up. After some time, I began pressuring mom to get a puppy. My reasons were logical for a ten year old: we had the room (2 acres +) and we had the time (she did daycare out of our home, so someone was home constantly), and I definitely had the passion...

...but Gramma said no. Gramma, who is the property owner, Gramma, who has final say in what does and does not happen around here. Gramma said no. Not once, not twice, not even three times. She said no every time we asked, begged, pleaded, or cried over the want of a dog. Gramma, who is not heartless or souless as I've made her seem, didn't see that we could take care of one, and was quite upset still over losing her beloved Dachshund. (Hit by a car on our busy road.)

And so time went on, cat-filled but dog-less.

Part One / Part Two

Today I'm grateful for the long sunny days ahead.

Until next time,

Peepers

No matter what the calendar says, nothing (and I mean nothing) indicates spring like a chorus of peepers, and we heard our first ones Tuesday night! First thunderstorm of the year and the first time hearing peepers in the same day? What're the odds!? At last, we here in the Catskills can call it...

Spring!

In case you don't know the joys of peeper frogs, here's a video on Youtube!

Today I'm grateful for the lovely delivery people that bring items right to my door! I find it so nice to get books in the mail as we don't really have much of a bookstore around here.

Until next time,

Thunder Storms

Our first thunderstorm of the year came through very early this morning at 2am. I can't tell you how my heart sang when the thunder boomed and lightning lit up the night. Rain pattering against the windows - there are few sweeter sounds on God's green earth.

With the warmer weather comes line dried laundry. These long winter days where dodging laundry bars placed around the various heating vents is almost at an end! We will soon be able to use the long outdoor line. Just like there are few sounds sweeter than rain, there are few smells sweeter than line dried laundry. It's bright and clean and airy. Just delightful. Makes I feel like I should be singing Favorite Things from the Sound of Music now, adding in line dried laundry to the mix.

I have the afternoon off and I'm planning on making deviled eggs and crab pasta salad. Especially since the sky is once again turning dark and ominous. Now would be a great time for me to get my brand new tarp out and cover the compost to stave off some of the extra moisture, so I think I will add that to my to do list this afternoon.

Edited to Add:


I ended up putting the tarp on, but it's pretty haphazard, so next time I'm at the hardware store I'll find something more suitable for securing it down.

Today I am grateful for the beauty that this world has to offer. Whether in a sunrise or the tiny pink splotches on a beloved dog's paw, I am grateful that I can recognize and appreciate the beauty therein.

Until next time,

Finally it's Spring!

After a difficult winter that was much too cold for much too long, spring has come full force here. The crocuses are popping up and my gramma found the starts of the daffodils just the other day. Our lilac bushes have made their start by setting their buds.

Spring brings, of course, the growing season. While I'm still not sure if there will be a large garden this year, I did order two Cortland apples trees (self-pollinating), 3 blackberry bushes, 3 raspberry bushes, and 3 lilac bushes. I am ever so excited to get my hands into some soft, loamy earth and begin coaxing beautiful things to grow from it.

Here are the boys enjoying one of our sunny, beautiful days. Barkley (Barked Potatoes) on the left, Bailey (Bailey-Bug) on the right. They are long-haired miniature dachshunds.


The red squirrels and the blue jays were arguing over something outside my window this morning, and the robins are dotting the lawn, robbing it of worms when they can. Spring is finally here!

Today I am grateful for a long winter finally over and the promise of a beautiful (and warm!) spring ahead.

Until next time,

A Post of the First Sort

I can't say I've never had a blog before, but I've always been far too defined in what my blog was about. This caused me to feel very limited and didn't allow me to truly be who I am and share what I wanted to. So I thought a change of pace was necessary.

Most people start a blog with a post about what it will contain, but I can't (and don't want to) define it. So I will say that it will be chock full of life and the things in it that I find worthy of sharing. And that will have to be enough for now.

I feel compelled to explain the name of this place. Daffodils are my favorite flower. Have you ever seen Big Fish? Edward Bloom gives the girl he's trying to woo (Sandra Templeton) an entire field of daffodils. I want that field of daffodils, that's the kind of love I harbor for those happy, sunny flowers.

What about dirt roads? I live in a small country town (not on a dirt road though) and I wouldn't change it for anything. I love living in a place where you can see the stars at night and hear the coyotes howling among the hills. It's pure bliss.

To conclude I thought I'd take after a favorite dog trainer of mine, Susan Garrett, and sign each of my posts with something I am grateful for.

Today I am grateful for the fresh beginnings of spring and the love of nature and gardening that the Father put in my heart.

Until next time,