Salsa or Catch Up?

Yippee...finally a free day to get back to the blog, back to the kitchen, back to the backyard with the kids.

I've been working so much between the town job and the photo gigs that my virtual fans have been agitating...and yes I do see it's been more than a month since I posted.
So here you are. As I've not been entirely idle, I do have a backlog of illustration to post, so I'll go easy on the prose here and just let you look at the pictures.

These are mostly fun snapshots of stuff around the house/farm/compound/whatever. Here's our new addition to the compound....our very own gingerbread house!

This is clearly a sign of colder weather on the way, though most of our days have been unseasonably warm.

Speaking of heat...here's the last batch of tomatoes becoming salsa.

This one is just a nice night sky...and I'm always looking at the sky. Bright moon makes a groovy sky.

And of course there's Ellie. Whenever Robin and I are convinced we've seen it all, she comes up with something new and beautiful. Today she's decided that plants are clothes.

All in a Muddle

When I was a kid we lived near the beach. My Grandmere and Grandpere lived a block from the beach. So we swam and swam, played in the sand, and then we ran back to their house and were STOPPED in the yard so we could get hosed off before a proper shower.

There was giggling, wiggling, showering, and then usually something cold to drink. Fresca was popular at the time.

Today my little family lives nowhere near the beach, but the kids make do as kids always have. Summer water fun is far away, but near to home we have the winter wonderland of the pasture outside our door.

And the first storm of the year brings the mud. Do we have mud! Oceans of mud. Piles and piles of mud in puddles; and since we have kids we have kids in puddles.

Now of course you can't just splash a bit, you have to splash a long while. This is not nearly as much fun to do alone as with your sister or brother. Certainly mud applications involve far more than just the boots and clothing. Hair is a fine target, and as indigenous populations around the world will attest, skin applications are of primary importance. Urgent in fact. Opportunity to bond with one's fellow mud lingerers should not be passed by.

When we lived in more temperate climes, we used to have the kids construct mud puddles with a shovel and a hose. The front yard was fine with us, just build a bridge so mom and dad don't fall in. The neighbors were aghast. Perfect lawns and all.

Perhaps the reason I really found Robin to be my soul mate was her reaction to the mud puddle Aliana had made. She didn't shriek or scream about the hole in the yard...she just asked Aliana which plastic animals were best suited to the swamp. I believe hippos were chosen. Well done.

Now we have two little ones again, and while we can't really excavate around here, neither do we have to. Mud abounds. Winter has taken over for summer, the mountains for the beach and the more things are different the more they seem to be the same...

And then there is the hose, the squealing, the dancing around ...and something nice to drink. We'll skip the Fresca though. Being a cold wet day I think we'll go with some hot spiced milk. Cinnamon sounds just about right.

Harvest and Hunker Down

Home school, stay at home, home bound, home round, home hound, home rule, home on the range.

We're in the last little bubble of warm weather here in Calaveras County, trying to get our minds around the notion of long-johns and wood burning stoves. While all this is looming, the day is quite warm and sunny and everyone is still in shorts and sandals.

We did however, have our first good frost, and the local wisdom is that good hard cold is coming soon. We've got out the long coats, I'm having to put away my summer suits (wedding season is later here but is also winding to a close...hooray for holiday family portraits!) and get out the mud boots.

Robin's got the kids' loft in great shape, and our room and the rest of the house are finally in a state where she's happy and comfortable. This is pretty important as our place is small and during winter it's where we spend our time.

This time of year is a bit odd, as there's still quite a bit of food left in the garden, but we know it'll all die soon if we don't bring it in. Our tomatoes were fantastic this year, and my Bulgarian Carrots (very hot orange peppers) were magnificent. So we had salsa of course. Corn was not so great and the kids had fantastic luck with the squash and pumpkins. We grew a few odd varieties and a couple that were just fun because they get so huge.

I had a great conflict about the bees this year. I had hoped to harvest some honey, and this year was going to be the first when we'd have enough. But I decided that I'd let the bees keep their honey another year. We've only got the one hive and I really really want the colony to get well established here.

I'm not sure harvesting would hurt. I'm actually pretty sure it's totally benign. But something just felt right about letting the girls have their feast. Our orchard is coming along nicely, despite the deer visits from time to time. Between our bee colony and our irrigation system it's thriving, so giving back the honey just seems proper.

Next year, there'll be jars and jars.

Tuolumne County Journey

Calaveras County is adjacent to both Amador and Tuolumne Counties. Having lived here about a year now, it's finally come time to explore a little more. I still have not even begun to touch all the parts of Calaveras, and have much exploring to do right here, but I could not resist the urge to go across the bridge, wander, and shoot. I poked around a while in Sonora, then got an invitation to get away for a day. Way way far, up and away.

Long Barn is high in the hills above Sonora...mostly surrounded by National Forest Service land. Very rustic and lovely...if you like trees. I had the honor of being introduced to a sweet family who've got a place up there. It reminds me a lot of our little homestead. It's primitive as regards amenities, but worth all that for the beauty of it all. It really did feel like home right away.

The matriarch of the family is Sandy, and she's got a soft spot for abandoned and neglected horses. She's become something of a little rescue project all by herself. These animals are very happy to have found a nice home. About once a week they're REALLY happy. That's when they get to go out and run loose until they tire out.

Adjacent to Sandy's place is a huge meadow. Approx 50-60 acres. Wild flowers, a little creek, lots of grass and lots of room to run loose. I know next to nothing about horses, but I'm learning a little. What I learned this day is that they're a lot like dogs. They are social, have complicated relationships within their herd, complex personalities as individuals, and they like to play.

I do too. It was a really really nice was to spend a morning. Thanks Sandy.

Cat Scratch Fever

Some time back I posted a picture here of the cutest kitten in Calaveras County. Her name's Phoebe and she's still really cute. We got her at the feed store in San Andreas. She was free.

Today I paid the real price. I wanted a nice picture of the reclining kitty. She was not pleased about being woken up. Nobody really is, particularly from a nap...particularly a cat.

After a shot or two she expressed her dislike of this process by attacking my arm. I look like a suicide.

You can see in the second picture here she's about to go off. She did. I have the marks to prove it.

Kitty love in the afternoon. YOWRRRRRRRRRRLLLL!

The day itself was a very very long one, and the kitty ambush was only the first of many things I found rather thrust upon me as I returned home. I needed a nap of my own.

I had one. It was good. I felt better.

The rest of my day was magnificent. I don't know if I would have attacked were I awoken, but I surely would have growled. I think I did before I went to sleep.

Sleep now, purr later. Eat. Prowl.

Repeat.

The stuff of life.

Izzy Pop

Izzy decide he'd like to compose and sing a song for and about each of us in the family.

He told us he needed a title and a first line, a guitar, a bit of space, and then he'd do the rest.

And so he did.

Izzy composed a bit of a concept performance:

Mom's song was "Potatoes of the Earth". Ellie's song was "Flowers of the Earth". Izzy's song was "Ball on the Park" and Aliana's song was "Page on the Farm"...

He finished with his song for his dad:

"Coffee of the Earth"

-Hot Coffee

Coffee with Milk

Coffee in a Cup

Coffee of New York

Coffee of San Francisco

Coffee of Virginia

Coffee of Santa Cruz

Coffee of Watsonville

Coffee of Angels Camp

Coffee of Starbucks

That is the Best

Dad makes it

Coffee of the Earth.-

Izzy sang, Ellie danced.

I really wish I had dig vid so you could all hear the burn. Or smell the coffee.

As it was I did have a camera (duh) so you get stills...

Live performances are nightly here at home, and most days at Starbucks Angels Camp.

Patrick Works

Stage Father

Different as Night and Night

I had a rough night a while back, losing a load of building supplies along the way home three times before I could get it all delivered safely. On my last reloading stop I rested a bit after lifting really heavy materials back into the truck...looked up and saw the trees and the sky.

Wow. Click.

Having been so long a city mouse, now that I've become the country cousin, at times it's really apparent what exactly has changed. Life is quieter, food is home-grown, I see the kids more, and all that I've written about before.

What's not so clear so often is how this all changes my pictures. Though I'm aware that there is more rural character to the people here, people are still people. Faces are faces.

Then I got into my Lightroom image library and typed in the word "night" and found such a contrast starkly laid before me.

Night photography is a lot of fun. It's got an easy drama to it, and so becomes a first step of love for photography for many young people. That was as true for me as for anybody.

I am still a night owl and love navigating by moonlight. I guess I always will.

Harvest Volunteer

Today our little Calaveras Farm leaped a new hurdle, as we began harvesting our own oats.

No we don't like hot cereal that much, but we're rather hoping the cows will like our oats. A few pounds of seeds planted and tended a bit for a few months and we've now got about a ten-fold increase. Nature is generous.

Of course we've got to do our part, so I volunteered to help harvest. This is a small field, we're a small family, so we did it as it's been done for thousands of years...by hand.

I got out my nice broad-brimmed straw hat, some boots to protect against snakes, and started grabbing up fists full of oats. It was fun. Poking along and talking to Robin as we gathered the grain was the kind of gentle pastoral scene that I'd always hoped for when we first started talking about this place and what we had in mind.

Throughout the field of oats, we kept finding a different grain that seems to have snuck in with the oats. It is beautiful, it's probably good food, but it is out of place.

And then I thought about myself in the field...in my nice hat, not really knowing what I'm doing there, but happy to be there. So I feel a bit of kinship with the odd grain.

So I gathered up some of this grain volunteer for this harvest volunteer, and added it to what has become my farm hat. I'm still a bit out of place, but I fit in more and more all the time, and at least my hat is more beautiful every day.

Pair o' Parasols

One of my favorite parts of working the Calaveras County Fair was meeting all the other vendors, and having a new set of neighbors for a day. It reminded me of when I was a shopkeeper and greeted all the other shopkeepers each morning as we swept our sidewalks, opened our doors, and hoped the customers would stream in.

So when I went to work the Frogjump (as the Calaveras County Fair is fondly known) each day I brought coffee and got to know people. I was not in that mode with any gain in mind, but people got to like it, and returned little favors...free fudge was popular with the kids for instance.

And there was Mr. Lee. He sold massagers and imported stuff from China. Amongst his other goodies was a popular line of pretty nice parasols. Since the fair is REALLY hot, the parasols were a huge hit. I got a white one for Elizabeth.

I've been telling her since the fair concluded that she couldn't play with it until I managed to get a picture of her with it. She's got to the end of her patience and today made me take the picture.

Actually we took a few. She had a good time. Elizabeth is quite the ham.

Thanks Mr. Lee for making my daughter smile so much. I hope I see you at the Frogjump next year.

Load of Crap

Calaveras County is truck country. Most everyone here has a pickup, even if it's not their primary vehicle. For those of us who will admit to being curious, or even a bit nosy, this gives us an opportunity to look into those truck beds and get to know our neighbors just a little better.

You can tell a lot about somebody by what they haul around. First of course is what they think's worth loading. Sometimes the more subtle and telling point is what they don't think is worth unloading.

If you were to look into the back of my truck, you'd find a mixed bag...fertilizer for the gardens, feed for the animals, sometimes you find the animals themselves, there is usually some kind of photo equipment of course, and sometimes you'll find me sleeping back there. I carry a nice old wool blanket just for napping emergencies.

These two shots were notable for the simplicity of the loads...just one item in abundance in each truck. This is a single-mindedness about loading and hauling I don't often find in my own life.

Simplicity is nice, and makes nice pictures.

Perhaps the changing and mixed nature of my truck's bed reflects the changing and mixed nature of my life...or maybe that's just a load of crap.

Dry me up, Tie you down

It's a bit hard being away from home. I'm off to shoot an out-of-town wedding, so I miss the kids.

And Robin too.

So I look alot at the pictures I have here of home.

Two things come to mind, and since you're here with me, to your eye;

Food...Robin and the kids decided to dry mushrooms and strawberries. I don't know if there's a dish planned for both together, but now that I think of it...that could be really good. Sweet and savory is quite something.

Family...Ellie decided to make her own shoes, so we got slippers from potato sacks.

And pictures of both make sweet and savory memories to carry me until I can get back home.

I love you kids. I love you Robin. I'll be home soon. Save some dried fruit and 'shrooms for me.

Patrick

I AM Martha Stewart

Elizabeth, our youngest, is rather proud of her squash. I don't particularly like to eat squash but find them beautiful. Ellie kept at me to get a photograph of her harvest amidst all the other wedding and portrait projects I've been busy with.

So here's your Calaveras food photography pinup of the month. Squash with daisies.

Calaveras County has had a really odd few weeks of colder than normal weather, including some really strange summer rains. Angels Camp and the surrounding area usually don't see much but sun and very hot days through June, July, and August. 100 is not unusual. 110 happens every year a few times.

So 60 and raining is odd. Up in Arnold, just a few miles up the hill past Murphys Ca, they've even had some snow...at least that's the report; Snow in June in California. Strange.

All this makes us wonder about the crops this year, and makes all my Calaveras farm friends a bit anxious as well. There's a lot of talk in town about weather. Such is rural life.

So while we do have a magnificent pile of food here, some things may have already decided to stop growing or got off on the wrong foot. Potatoes are doing fine, leafy greens are great. We're probably going to lose our corn. So up and down with farm life...but the key really is that a couple of days ago I had lunch and the whole plate was from home. I get this at least once a week.

That's pretty cool.

Show me the FUNNY!

A long time ago working a cafe job in SF I had the rather odd but regular chance to serve Robin Williams. He'd been performing irregularly (does he ever perform any other way?) at a place called the Holy City Zoo on Clement St. and I was working a pizza joint a few blocks away. He was always pretty nice, made a couple of the same jokes, and once broke up a fight in the bathroom using pure force of character, a very loud voice, and much humor.

Having moved to the boonies, I don't expect these kinds of celebrity sightings/encounters to happen any longer. But then some days are odder than others.

The other morning I started on the way to shoot a couple in San Andreas, when I had to pull over. The road was blocked...by a cattle drive. So I did what I do...pulled over and shot the cows and the cowboys. As I usually limit this sort of thing to a camera, the cowboys did not shoot back. Neither did the cows. I was late to my location, but had a good story, good pictures, and a new lesson on how to budget time in cattle country.

Having thought that would be the most surreal part of my weekend, imagine my surprise when less than 24 hours later I ran into Will Durst at Starbucks. He was very nice. Just like the cows, I stepped aside and shot him as he went by. That's what you get for being nice to me.

For the record he left far less manure in the road than the cattle, and though he seemed to be accompanied by his agent/manager/handler/whatever, he required no herding. Well not much.

Mr. Durst's recent blog entry on sfgate.com on the subject of 'staycations' brought about many suggestions in response from his readers to which I should add my own:

Sit in cafes in little tiny mountain towns and wait for celebrities to walk by.

Shoot them.

(just cameras of course...I don't want to read about you in the papers)

This shot of Mr. Durst was posed, though it looks like a grab-shot a paparazzi might do. Like I said he was really nice. Life is more than a little surreal. Thank god for that.

Fair Play

Four days of crowds, heat, and endless pitching of the business, and I am DONE IN.

Our fair, fondly known up here as the 'Frogjump' (registered trademark) was a moderate success as these things go for the county, rather a flat to loser event for many of the gypsy vendors who make this kind of thing into a full time living, and a GREAT success for our family business.

I even got to take the kids on a few rides.

This event is really three or four fairs going on parallel to each other. There's the livestock competitions...very serious and a lot of fun if you like kids and animals. And we have the rodeo events...sheep-riding children, bull-riding older children and adults, branding teams, and though I almost hit the floor when I first heard the sound, a rather fun horseback six-gun shooting competition. It sounded like murder, but it was just balloons... 

Later as a show closer we have the demolition derby; local team grudge matches all in great neighborly spirit...the WHOLE town shows up for the derby, even folks who want nothing to do with the rest of the fair. And of course throughout we have the frog-jumping competitions and a little carnival.

Being a reformed city-boy I was expecting the usual gangster mayhem and nonsense, and thankfully we had none of that, though in years past it seems there were some biker vs. cowboy incidents. This year at least we had a low-key event, that was safe for everyone.

Unless you happened to be a yellow balloon within sight of a gun-totin' cowboy or an old station wagon on Sunday night.

I love the smell of oil on a hot spring night...curly fries or 30 weight...they both burn good.

My wife is a basket case.

I've not been able to get a new posting up here in a few weeks, as we've been really busy around the home. New spring projects are all around and it seems time escapes.

Baseball is in full swing, we've had testing (yuk) at the homeschool campus with the oldest daughter (that was no fun) and I've been busy with business.

Part of business is the fair, which is primarily a livestock market and show, with competitions, and far less of a carnival than in places I've lived previously. Calaveras is really a ranching community, with a lot of miscellaneous agricultural stuff thrown into the mix. So the old flavor of the county fair here is still quite substantial. The whole county really shuts down for the four days of the fair.

So I'm building a booth. I won't be showing pigs, but pictures.

All this reminds me of course that timing is everything, and while the animals may be fat, the fields are just getting started. So far Elizabeth is winning our own home competition for biggest and most beautiful plants. Her chard is looking fabulous, her sunflowers (the really fun red ones) are coming up wonderfully, and she even got a marigold in the ground.

Meanwhile Robin, our real farmer in the family, is preparing for serious planting. This means more than the nice huge boxes, but the actual crop rows must be planted. And that means gopher-proof wire baskets so they don't eat all my peppers. I love Robin and clearly she knows that I love my peppers.

Ever the frugal farmer, Robin decided to just get some wire and make her own gopher baskets. This reminded me a little of our latest favorite media indulgence, the show "River Cottage" from BBC when Hugh the host had some eel traps made. We won't be catching gophers, but keeping them out. I hope.

Now if we could just find a creek with some nice juicy eels...

Happy Birthday Jerry

My father in law Jerry is a big science fiction fan. It fits him perfectly. He likes to have a nice escape from time to time, but he likes to keep his brain turned on.

He's turned the kids on to a number of things and it's fun to watch them share this together. He asks questions. They ponder and answer. Cool.

Jerry is also a bit of a collector. He does favor old toys. He's gathered a few Pez dispensers over the years, amongst a number of other curiosities.

The kids are naturally attracted to the toys, but very respectful. They belong to Poppa after all.

So it was a cause of great joy when they came across this set of Star Trek themed Pez dispensers at the grocery store. We live in a small town. We have one store. There it was. They had to get it for Poppa!

His birthday was coming up. They took me aside countless times to remind me about going back to the store for Poppa's Star Trek present. There was much whispering and even more serious conspiratorial "secret" whispering. This went on for weeks.

Thankfully when I went back to the store, there they were. I was afraid they'd have sold them all...but I guess science fiction themed collectibles are not quite the rage here. Good for us. Really good for the kids.

And Poppa of course.

Getting to be here so this kind of thing could unfold was the whole reason this move made sense from the beginning. All the rest is gravy.

Happy Birthday Jerry. Thanks for everything.

Crazy Quilt

At times I am lazy and self-centered and think all the home-based life skills Robin and I are trying to teach the kids are things we've come to ourselves.

This is nonsense of course. We learned them. At home. From our parents.

One of the things I learned at home, as a very little kid, was to sew. Besides just learning to mend, my mom had each of us (yes the boys too) go shop for a pattern, then cut and sew a complete shirt. They were simple shirts, but they were shirts we wore. Pretty cool.

All these years later, millions of meals later, and I thought the skill my mom would reach for more and more would be cooking. She is a culinary genius of a jazz sort. She clearly has lots of deep fundamental strength and a wonderful sense of improvisation and personal style. She does cook more in a week than most of us do in a couple of months. But that's not really where her creative expression has taken shape.

It seems it's the sewing she's come to. And nicely enough, so has my sister...at the same time. So now they sew. Together and apart.

Lately they're both quilters...of different sorts, and at the same time the same sort...or they sort that out. And we get stuff stuffed with stuff.

So I laid down the law and demanded real quilts. Not quilted stuff, but quilts. One for each of us. My sister got the jump on my mom, mostly 'cause mom's still cooking at the same time. And writing. Dang.

Izzy got his quilt today. He got kinda wrapped up in it first thing. It's crazy and beautiful. Just like my sister and my mom.

Easter Landscape

This is a bit of a departure for me. I don't normally find myself sitting outside taking pictures of the landscape. Flowers and trees and rocks are pretty, and I do enjoy them. Certainly having relocated the family back to Robin's home has brought about a new appreciation of the landscape. It's new to me. It's beautiful. It's everywhere. I have time to look, and to shoot.

All that aside, I don't shoot the landscape much. Instead I just enjoy.

If you've seen my business site, you'll see that most of what I do is portraiture. Even my commercial work ends up being portraiture of stuff instead of people, but it's done the same way.

This landscape/scenery stuff is different. The people who shoot it are different too. More solitary.

Then on Easter Sunday I found myself on the side of the road shooting this hill of poppies. The hill got me. It's so vertical it looks like something out of a chinese painting. So I pulled over and took a couple of shots. About eight or so frames into shooting I noticed the deer. I guess she was concerned about what I might be shooting with.

On another day, on another hill, she might have had reason to worry if she were a he. On this Easter she had nothing to worry about. Whereas I was shooting, I was still just there to enjoy. And share.

So here you are.

Hey there sports fans!

Izzy is a natural. I don't get it. When I was a kid we were not allowed to participate in organized sport, Little League in particular. The hippy parents seemed to have a visceral distrust of anything involving a uniform, 'leadership', 'team spirit', and competition of a physical sort.

Seeing as how we were in the midst of the war in SE Asia I'm not all that surprised. The uniforms all had american flags on them...definitely a 'red flag' with my pink parents.

I wanted to play ball however. All my friends played. But I never got to. I remember lots of talk about how I was not built for sport. That was a bit of a downer...being told I couldn't do something before I'd had a chance to try...so I do my best to encourage Izzy. I don't need to do much. It's all just in him.

But where my son Izzy gets his obsessive interest in the game is a mystery. The profound skills he's shown us all baffle me even more. Everyone's son or daughter is, of course, the best on the field. Naturally. But Izzy has generated a buzz with the other, far more sports-minded, parents and coaches. They tell me he's got natural talent.

He's is good at this. Really good. He sure didn't get this from me or his mom.

Funny thing is he's seen maybe two live baseball games, and perhaps a total of 10 innings of TV baseball. Not near enough to have observed in any kind of real way. At the ballpark he's quite a bit more interested in the hotdogs and candy. He's 5.

So how on earth he's become the go-to playmaking kid causes constant wonder. My kid. Absolutely his own person. Cool.

Our little wardrobe queen.

Robin's come to a conclusion regarding the homeschool approach for Elizabeth. Each of the kids is different of course, but Ellie presents some new variables into planning. She exists for color and art. Some time ago Robin gave her a big bag of fabric to play with. It all became garments in short order. We've never seen somebody more inclined to arrange flowers, make paintings, create clothing, and to narrate the world with song.

It seems this all fits in well with the Waldorf model for teaching, so Robin's on the trail of homeschooling with the Waldorf method. It's really uncanny how closely the model, as described in Robin's research to date, seems to have been written with Elizabeth in mind. It's as though our daughter were the prototype. It is nice as this system is quite popular with wealthy families and private schools, so there's LOTS of material available and lots of people who've been down this path already.

Robin once again amazes me with her capacity to juggle 3 kids, a farm, her own outside interests, and dealing with me. Perhaps she'll come up with a new vegetable invention next. I have no doubt there will be something surprising.

Prep for planting...structure

We have predators, we have scavengers, we have pesky critters of all kinds. So things have gotten a bit medeival around here. We cage our animals at night so the bobcats don't eat 'em. Mostly it works. Sometimes it does not. Bobcats are smart and evidently very dextrous.

Today we were preparing garden beds for planting a million tomatoes and for my peppers. The pests in this case are the pet geese who will eat everything. So luckily we only need to make it a bit difficult (very short fence) and they give up and chew on the lawn. Nice.

Jerry found these ancient fenceposts somewhere for free, so we're putting them back in the ground. Beautiful and primitive. Woodhenge.

Then he made the dirt into swiss cheese with all the holes. It'll be really nice when it's all planted of course...breakfast on the garden patio will be amazing this summer...but it's kinda nice right now too. I like to just look at it and imagine the possibilities. Kinda like havin' kids.

Mugshots

Hello out there...I've recently been in touch with some very old friends...or should I say people I've known a long time. We're not so old really. Many have never met my kids so here they are. Elizabeth, Aliana, and Isidore from left to right.

The kids got ahold of a website called "simpsonizeme" that turns them into Simpsons characters. Odd they know about the Simpsons when we have no TV. So the site needed a picture. Out on the porch and 2 minutes later we had this. So here you are. I could not resist.

More on the farm tomorrow. For tonight it's all kids.

Dig This

Last year we bought a mule. Her name was Dinah. She was a sweetie, but strong as ... well ... a mule. Stubborn too. Seems all the cliches about mules are based on fact.

I went to a charity auction and bid on this plow. For the back of the mule.

So when we got rid of Dinah the mule (she really tried hard to kill my father in law) I thought we'd never see the plow actually get to work.

Too bad. It's a really nice plow. Total frame-up rebuild with new handles all the way from Vermont.

Well today Robin and her dad hitched up the plow to the tractor. Damn. Nice straight rows the first time out. It's sooooooo good to play the record, saw on the fiddle, and yes...actually plow with the plow.

I was online with some friends last night talking all about life and spirituality and stuff...and then this morning there I was scattering seeds like the parable. Using that learning too I guess.

Here's Robin and the plow. I am a very blessed man.

My girl can kick Brendan's butt

My dear brother Brendan likes to think that a great part of his history and personal power comes from his early success at competition flower arranging. He's right.

But he'd better be prepared to contend with the new talent. Ellie.

Here's her latest.

Uh. Wow.

My girl.

Just for my sister

Sometimes Elizabeth reminds me of my big sister Francine. When we were little, my brother and I used to torment my sister regularly. Nothing particularly malicious, but we were persistent. Had we behaved any other way we'd have been drummed right out of the International Brotherhood of Brothers.

So when I got this shot I immediately grinnnnned from ear to ear. For if my sister had come around with a huge pile of balloons, Brendan and I would have attacked too...though not nearly as enthusiastically as Izzy here. He's a big brother after all, not a little one. At least not to Ellie.

Sisters of the world look out...your brothers are menacing and ready to pounce!

go go GOAT!

Joanna, our number one goat, finally burst forth with young. We were hoping for a new doe with her genes, since Joanna's history is one of abundant milk. Alas we were blessed with two little bucklings instead.

So perhaps not so much milk and a little more kebab.

At least for now and until we stop milking her Joanna will be back in production like the old days. Robin is off to check on her again, since we're not sure she's done birthing. Maybe we'll have a new doe after all...sometime late tonight.

Is anybody out there?

Am I just blogging into space? Are you there? Who are you? If you're there it's probably for the pictures. Here's another one. I like this one a lot. Got it by accident...but an accident I will remember and take to a new level some time in the not-too-distant future. Leave a comment or send me a dollar. Your choice

Hey Daddy!

The girls have been getting the better part of the attention available from Dear Old Dad and his dear old camera. And then Izzy tried to surprise me from on high. I was too quick for him. I got him right between the eyes. Lucky for me, right between his eyes and slightly below his nose we find this wonderful smile. I'm a sucker for a smilin' kid. Especially my own. The next day we used this same vantage point (up above in the kids' loft) to launch a small fleet of paper helicopters. The kids did not believe that I knew how to make paper helicopters. They should NEVER doubt the powers and abilities of their Dear Old Dad.

Surprise Visitor

Robin went out after the storm to check on the chicken house. Unfortunately she found one of our old friends beheaded. While trying to figure out what kind of animal must have done such a thing, she noticed a really strange chicken. It was really tall and laying on it's back in the mud. Then she realized it was a hawk. Inside the chicken house. Jerry told her to bring it inside, where he gave it a quiet corner to sit in while it dried itself off. It seems between the wild storm and attempting to escape the poor bird was reduced to a state where it could not fly. Later that day Jerry decided to let it go, and it promptly got itself stuck in the fence. While Robin and Jerry went to free it, our local flock of wild turkeys decided to come help. With much turkey blabbering they seemed to be showing some kind of concern for the fate of the grounded bird. I never would have believed that ground birds could possibly find common cause with a predator like this. But clearly they did. So our visitor was freed, and he walked away with the flock of turkeys. They seemed concerned to keep him safe. After a bit of online research Jerry determined that our visitor was not a hawk, but instead a juvenile American Bald Eagle. We have quite a number in the neighborhood, but one this close (Robin carried the thing) was something none of us ever thought we'd experience. What an odd and wonderful day. There was evidently some dispute early in the history of our nation as to whether the national bird should be a Bald Eagle, with Ben Franklin lobbying in favor of the wild turkey. Today we saw that perhaps they have more in common than we ever really knew.

A light dusting

This morning I awoke to snowfall. The younger kids got really really excited and ran to the window to watch it fall. The last time I saw snow actually falling I was 3 myself, and my sister 4. We were in Seattle and she came and got me up to look outside at the snow as it fell. I'm in a balmy corner of California now, so the snowfall from this morning can't compare in the least to that of 1968 in Seattle, or for that matter to last year in Seattle or any year in Virginia. I'm not sure what it was exactly, perhaps it was the sound of the kids so excited together with the snow, but today reminded me of that morning long ago.

Diggin' Robin

I wish I knew how to describe all the ways I love my wife. I cannot. So instead I make a picture or two this week...of her doing what she loves. I think it best to capture people in their passion. Hopefully in so doing I can convey the passion I have for them.

Or at least I try.

Robin loves turning the earth. I love watching her get dirty.