Red Mill Museum on the Raritan River in Clinton, New Jersey
- by Joan -
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Tagged architecture, colors, New Jersey, Photographs, rivers, Uncategorized, water, waterfall
I think most of you are well acquainted with the farm dogs. Currently there are four Maremma Sheepdogs living on the farm to protect the livestock. Maremmas originally hail from Italy, where they were bred over the centuries to withstand the mountain weather and protect sheep and goats from predators. They are related to Great Pyrenees dogs, which is why they look so similar, but are distinctly their own breed. Our dogs are big, lovey, marshmallowy fluffballs who love people and their flock alike.
Fettucine, or Cini, for short, has been around the longest.
He’s about 11 years old, and beginning to show his age a bit. Occasionally his joints bother him, and we keep arthritis meds for him for when he’s having trouble. Otherwise he still loves to run and play and chase deer.
But what Cini really loves, is little kids.
He will follow Oona anywhere she goes. When other little kids come around, Cini is the first one to greet them and ask for belly rubs. Being a big, 120 lb dog he can sometimes end up scaring the little ones whose feet he wants to sit at, but I’ve never seen anyone not warm up to him yet.
Most days Cini can be found lounging on the back deck. If the weather is really bad, we bring him inside. A lifetime of devoted service to his flock has earned him a cushy retirement, even if he doesn’t seem to accept that he is retired.
He has fathered a few pups in his life, and we still have two: Sabine and Orzo.
Orzo is still quite a teenager. He is rather bratty, and like his mother Lucy, prone to escape.
Orzo, on the left, with Lucy
There’s been no keeping him and his mom inside the fence with the flock, but they do manage to do a marvelous job patrolling outside the fence, keeping away any critters who might intrude (usually deer). During the day they stay on the deck with Cini. Orzo is 3, and is from Lucy’s last litter with Cini. He has his dad’s love of people to balance out his mom’s brattiness a bit.
Sabine is Cini’s daughter from Susan’s dog Biscotti, who sadly passed away when Susan still lived in the Hudson Valley. She is one of the goofiest and friendliest dogs you could ever hope to meet.
She has her father’s sense of obligation to the flock. Sabine is the only dog here who stays with the sheep and doesn’t try to escape the confines of the fence. On the rare occasion that she’s slipped out a carelessly open gate, all I need do is call her back and she dutifully comes straightaway. Sabine is the essence of “man’s best friend”. If you’re out in the field working the sheep, you can count on Sabine’s nose to be right there at hip level, as close to you as possible.
Recently she’s taken advantage of the goats’ chewing through the fence to the hay bales; she’s made herself a spot between two of them to snooze during the day.
Recently when we’ve managed to convince Lucy to stay in the field, she joins Sabine in the hay fort.
Lucy is mom to two litters fathered by Cini. All of those pups have been adopted out to other farms except Orzo, who I claimed the moment I saw him!
If Lucy were a human, we would admire her greatly. She is headstrong, smart, knows her own mind and won’t let anyone tell her what to do!
There have been plenty of times when we’ve all been so frustrated with Lucy we’ve wondered how we could possibly manage her. As she’s gotten older, she’s calmed down quite a lot and a little more patient with us as we try to figure her out. She’s quite taken to Paul, and he is the one I call when she needs fly ointment on her nose, or when she’s stuck in the fence and mad. She respects him in a way I haven’t seen with anyone else she knows.
We’ve stopped trying to confine her, since she’s so much happier and well behaved when she can roam at will. It still concerns me that she may venture too far or annoy the neighbors too much, but so far we haven’t seen too much of this (knock on wood!). She and Orzo (her constant companion) do a fantastic job of greeting all of our visitors.
Every time I walk out the door I see four big, happy dog faces and am reminded how lucky I am to be able to care for them right now, and how lucky we are to have such gentle giants to watch over the flock (and us!).
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Tagged Farm, Pets, Uncategorized
A little while ago I received several large boxes full of Juniper Moon Farm Share Yarn. This is always super exciting for me because it’s my first peek at the actual finished product pulled off the backs of the sheep we know and love.
My craft room overfloweth! (and my living room, and my garage…..)
Can’t you just smell that sheepy, wooly goodness?
The Cormo feels divine, and I adore it in its natural state.
BUT.
I get to have fun playing with colors!
Susan gave me some suggestions for color idea this year, and combined with that and a look at previous year’s colors (to be sure I didn’t repeat anything too recent), I started playing around with the dyes. I wanted colors that were rich but not overbearing, and I wanted to use colorways that I could get consistency from. Since we dye in smaller batches I didn’t want each batch to be wildly different than the one before it. Reds are notoriously difficult (in my experience) with this, but after some experimentation I found one that worked. The blue I loved immediately, and the purple gave enough variety in shading to be fun without looking blotchy.
I am really pleased with the results. I also love how nicely the yarn blooms out after a bath.
The dyeing will begin in earnest once everyone who bought a share indicates their color choice, and then it will be shipped out the very instant it is dry.
I hope everyone loves this fiber as much as I do!
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Comments Off on Hello Autumn 2014 …
Tagged autumn, doors, Photographs, posterize, Uncategorized
We’ve definitely noticed a shift in the weather and the light over the last few weeks. It’s ever so chillier at night now, and night itself has been arriving earlier and earlier. Accordingly, our evening feedings have been getting pushed a bit earlier every day to avoid going out in the dark.
Morning chores are so much more pleasant these days; we’ve even been wearing sweatshirts or flannels out!
Even so, the garden continues to churn out summer’s leftover bounty in the form of cherry tomatoes and raspberries.
We’re getting a nice bowl full of raspberries every day. This is from a raspberry plant I bought two years ago at Lowe’s (basically it was a stalk at that point!). We’ve decided we’ll put another stalk in at the opposite end of the garden and let them grow towards each other.
I’ve also been getting bucket loads of cherry tomatoes. The craziest part is that I didn’t end up planting cherry tomatoes this year. These are volunteers from years past. I think the main factor in their success, though, is that these are located fairly close to the beehives. I’ve been getting so many I’ve taken to simply freezing them whole for later use in sauces.
The big work has been the basil. It was starting to show signs of disliking the cooler temperatures at night and I decided it was time to harvest. I brought two big bushes worth and made pesto. I filled three Weck jars (2 half liter, one quarter liter) and got to work making pasta.
I ended up with 283 ravioli, distributed among 12 freezer bags. I would have broken 300, but Pippa stole about 20 off the counter when my back was turned. Jerk.
We love pesto ravioli, and this was an exciting sight for everyone when it was all done.
I still have another basil plant to harvest, and I can’t decide if I will make more pesto ravioli or if I will simply dry it for use as a seasoning.
Decisions, decisions.
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Tagged food, garden, Seasons, Uncategorized
Comments Off on September 11th 2014 …
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Early fall is upon us (at least in terms of farming and shepherding!). It’s time to start making lists of all the work that has to be done before the weather turns cold (and dare we say – snowy?).
First on the list was getting the Angora goats sheared. Their fleeces grow so very fast that they get sheared twice a year, as opposed to the sheep who are sheared only in the spring. Since the summer was so mild there was some concern that the fall would turn cold quickly, so we wanted to get the goats done early enough to grow back just a bit of fleece before we get any chilly temperatures.
Emily came down a few days ago and unfortunately once she set up the skies turned dark and the thunder began. We whipped through getting them sheared and the fleeces bagged and got no pictures. But I took some this evening after feeding time, though not all the newly-naked ones were cooperative (I’m looking at YOU, Martin and McPhee!).
Wembley and Margaret (or Sad Margaret, as we call her, since her ears tend to droop down and her fleece covers her eyes in a way that makes her look perpetually morose)
Miss Hannah. Doesn’t she look velvety with her new ‘do?
Roquefort, the Silver Fox
Keswick
Cassie
Lucy
The goats have worked a hole in the fence by the hay. Not because they don’t already have a fresh hay bale sitting conveniently out in the field or anything.
Wimbledon
Monticello
Fettuccine the Wonderdog
Soon we’ll be cleaning manure out of the field to till into the gardens for next year, scrubbing out the water troughs, winterizing the chicken coops, and setting up a winter pen for the flock.
Right now we are enjoying spending time outside with the flock in these glorious early fall temperatures. Stay with us awhile, fall!
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Tagged Farm, Pets, Seasons, Uncategorized
Comments Off on Old Movie Theatre Fading Into Darkness …
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This book is incredible. I tapped out a few generically awestruck tweets as I was reading it last night–the whole thing only takes a few hours, the short chapters come like shots–but I wanted to talk more about it.
It’s a memoir of the author’s twenties, of being struck, her sophomore year of college, by a rare neurological autoimmune disease.
The thing is, the author is a poet, and so her telling of those years is especially vivid, powerful, and scary. I don’t think I’ve ever read a better account of an illness (a grim accolade). I kept having to put the book down.
She writes about plasma apharesis, electromyography, having her central line put in (and taken out, and put in, and taken out. Thirty scars, in all, on her chest, she says, but she doesn’t mind them now). The good and bad nurses, one particular surgical tech, all the very many doctors. Addiction to tranquilizers and alcohol, her time spent, in a fussy circumlocution, “on the locked ward”. How corticosteroids aged her body, and how her illness made her mean. How it is, to navigate college and sex and friendships, as sick as she was. (We can’t escape learning that “college” means Harvard, that “grad school” means Iowa, to which I take a very dim view. But what kind of a snob would I be to hold that against someone?).
All of this, I read through the fact that one of my favorite poets was just diagnosed with breast cancer, and is undergoing treatment for it now. Of course poets get sick, of course. And of course they die; we all do, we all will.
But something I admire very much is how little she goes in for the great pain=great art equation. In fact:
And in the end (not to give away the ending):
Other reviewers have mentioned this–I think the jacket copy mentions this–but the difficulty of talking about illness without falling into cliche. She manages it.
I spent a lot of time today reading about vascular surgery: the history of the field, the most common procedures. I also went through and read her piece in The New Yorker about mental illness, and then one in Harper’s about motherhood, and liked them both.
And another, final ad hominem: from rudimentary poking-around (reading a few interviews), it looks like she studied classics in college. So of course I loved her book, and of course reviewers compare her to Anne Carson. That’s why she can tear apharesis apart into apo + haireo, away + take, to such beautiful poetic effect.
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