Shelling Beans

I am off this morning for Columbus Day, so I decided to get on with some of the fall garden chores.  The terriers were down in the woods doing what terriers do, so Oscar and I moseyed up to the barn, and after turning out Princess and the girls, applied ourselves to picking through the overgrown jungle that is a late season garden looking for beans.  Some of them were planted for winter soup, and others just got past their prime or were missed on earlier pickings.  A few were just left to dry after everyone I know got tired of eating green beans.  Today was the first pass at harvesting them.  It is a mindless task, but I've always found it relaxing.  There are so many varieties, and they all have their own story.  My favorite variety is a small black bean often called "Trail of Tears", because according to legend, the Cherokee brought it with them from the Carolinas to Oklahoma and Kansas.  If our family histories are anywhere near accurate, some of my folks were on that trip.  But there are the prolific and relatively newer varieties like Kentucky Wonder, and even beans that are reputed to have come to the new world on the Mayflower.  Others supposedly kept Irish farmhands alive during the great famine.  There are as many stories as there are varieties, and as many colors and patterns as one can imagine!

I suppose the best thing about shelling beans is that it gives one time to think.  Time seems to vanish and run into eternity as the bottom of the empty Tupperware container slowly disappears beneath the shining promise of winter soups.  There is time for God, and for old friends nearly forgotten, and for pondering that which is truly important in life.  So if you've never grown beans, I certainly recommend it.  They can be somewhat ignored and still be prolific.  Delicious when young, meaty when middle aged, and hearty when dried for soups or frying, they are easy to grow, satisfying to see, and are always welcome to grace my table.  If your back is old like mine, get the climbers.  They are the easiest to pick.  And in case you hadn't guessed already, Oscar really wasn't much help, but it is always good to spend time with a friend.

Closer to God in a Garden...?

Attached are a few pictures of the garden at St. John's taken by friend Laura Sims, home for deputation from the mission field.  I think she has a wonderful eye for perception and form, and count her as a true artist with the camera.

Back in the 1980's, I remember talking with my predecessor, Fr. Robert Rademaker, about his vision for the corner of Broad and Wheeling street, where our parish church is located.  He envisioned, and I quickly saw, the possibilities for a property which seemed a bit of heaven in the middle of downtown Lancaster.  We imagined a place, consecrated by our Bishop as a chapel, where people would be drawn to meet God, and every approach to the church would naturally employ the beauty of God's creation to draw us to His font and altar.  

Over the years, people have seen the possibility of this vision and have given of their time, their talent, and their means to accomplish this wonderful vision.  The gardens and their accompanying memorial inscriptions are to me a constant reminder of the many people over the years who have served God faithfully in this place.

But the garden is also a reminder of the glories that await us in heaven.  The luxuriance of the plants, the preponderance of Biblical herbs and medicinals, and the ever flowing fountain combine with the architecture of the building to remind us that there is a home prepared for us, a place not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

I hope that our garden, our slice of heaven, designed and planted with vision and tended with constancy and love, might be a place of peace here in the heart of Lancaster, and that in it people might find God.

Many thanks to all those who donated their labour, their time, their plants, their money, and their prayers to make this year's St. John's garden and clean up day such a success.

Springtime in Fairfield County

The spring garden is planted and we are waiting for rain.  Potatoes, peas, cabbage, broccoli, lettuce, onions, parsnips, beets, spinach, turnips and chard are in the ground and waiting for the necessary moisture to sprout and grow.  The rhubarb stalks are about five inches long, and I anticipate the first of the asparagus any day.  The peeper frogs were back this year for the second year in a row after their strange disappearance a few years back.  A careful listener can hear the buds of the trees popping open in the early evening warmth.  The bulb cutting beds are ablaze with color from the daffodils, hyacenths, tulips, muscara, and crocus. 

Ohio's Great Horned Owl

But today's big news is that the owls are back.  We always had owls in the woods, but last year they disappeared.  I've heard different theories for their decision to leave.  Some maintain that the Cooper's Hawks run them out.  Others say that there aren't enough rabbits and squirrels in the woods to feed them.  I really don't have a theory, but it was good to hear their distinctive call tonight at dusk.  My heart was gladdened as if an old friend had returned unexpectedly, which I suppose he had. 

All around me, the beauty and wonder of creation calls me to the worship of God.  I praise him for his bounty and his grace, and for callling me to live and work in this garden of the earth that is Greenfield Township, Fairfield County Ohio.

Official Start of the 2013 Garden at Briarwood

This weekend, I brought the propagator in from the shop and started the first plantings of cabbage, broccoli, iceburg and romaine lettuce.  In a week or two, everything should be sprouted, and after a week or two inside under lights for a couple of sets of leaves to develop, it will be into double cold frames in the greenhouse and from there to the long cold frame for growing.  Next come the eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes (In that order and starting about 12 weeks before our last frost date in mid May).  Matthew called yesterday to get my order for replacement hens for the year.  We will stick with the speckled sussex.  They are not the best layers, but they are beautiful birds, and they are considered an endangered rare breed.  I also have plans to add some khaki campbell ducks (if I can find them) for their chicken sized eggs and perhaps a few quail for eggs as well (the last purchase of 50 chicks was a bit excessive even by my standards).

This flurry of activity was jump started by a few days in the low 60's (farenheit), and by son in law Matthew's recent acquisition of a vintage Ferguson tractor.  It is a beauty and I would post a picture, but we had to make some changes to the computer to address a security issue, and I haven't figured out how to get pictures from my computer to the blog given the new configurations. 

In the midst of winter, I hope all of my readers are finding ways to look forward to spring.  Hope is a wonderful thing, and without it our lives can be so very, very terrible.

By the way, I found the most promising additions to this years cutting flower garden, all from Burpee seeds.  Their Sunflower Cutting Mix promises single branching stems producing 3-8 inch flowers in reds, golds, yellows, and bicolors. Their 3o inch Zinnia All Summer Cutting Mix ix an all time favorite with its multicolored double blooms.  This year I also found their 30-36 inch Zinnia Peppermint Stick Mix with its flecked appearance in several colors.  I'm looking forward to a grand season!

Harvest Time at Briarwood

The temperature has dipped into the high fifties over the last few nights, and fall is just around the corner.  I don't usually work on Sundays after Church, but the peaches had to be picked today.  Rebecca baked fresh shortcake this afternoon from scratch, and we had a few of the peaches on the same for supper tonight.  Tomorrow, she will make more pies for the freezer.  Tomorrow morning, I will be picking Concord grapes.  They are at their peak now, and the scent is wonderful as we walk by the small vineyard on the way to the barn.  Saturday was tomatoes again, and I believe Rebecca put up another 21 pints of maranara sauce.  We will soon have enough to supply both ourselves and Tristan for the entire winter and through until next year's harvest is ready to process.  Apples and shell beans are just around the corner.

During the course of the drought this summer, an intermittent spring which had been dormant for several years reappeared just below the great apple tree below the summer kitchen.  After the corn is cut, when the deer move back into the woods, it should provide the perfect spot for hunting.  If all goes well, by thanksgiving we should have whitetail deer in the freezer.  I'm trying a new type of broadhead this year on the crossbow bolts www.ragebroadheads.com which is supposed to cut a much larger wound channel and produce a more humane kill.  Chuck and I are already making plans to shoot pheasants over Fat Leo the Labrador.  It would be nice to put ten or fifteen birds in the freezer this year for those special occasion meals.  The next time Tristan comes home from school, we have plans to dam the springs at the south end of the property in two locations, which should give us a significantly increased capacity for holding game locally.

The Roses this year have been beautiful, and seem to be holding their blooms well as the weather cools.  The Wisteria must have doubled or tripled in size on the arbors, and next year we have every reason to expect our first blooms.  The Russian Mammoth Sunflowers are in all of their glory, and should soon provide adequate forage for our many feathered friends.  It has been a good year in the garden, but we have had to water much to maintain it all.  The fall peas and spinach are started in pots and flats and will soon be ready for transplanting into the garden.  After the next paycheck, I plan to order commercial cold frames to install inside the greenhouse.  We should have cold weather crops well into January, and then it will be time to start tomatoes and peppers  and cabbage again for next year's harvest. 

My one disappointment this year was the hydrophonics system that I used to try and extend the lettuce and spinach season into July.  The spinach fared poorly, and although the lettuce seemed to start well, the heat proved to be too much, even when the direct afternoon sun was blocked.  Next year will see the experiment repeated with a bit of tweaking.  Perhaps it will go better the second time around.

It is good to live in this place and to experience the rolling of the seasons.  They are so predictable, and yet each is so unique, and they do bring joy to my heart.

Spiritual Lessons From Tools

Fiskars Bypass Pruning Shears

Last week, my trusty old pair of bypass pruners bit the dust.  After several years of very hard service maintaining trails, keeping runaway roses in check, and cleaning up garden refuse, a small but essential metal projection broke, and upon closer examination, I found the shears to be unrepairable.  I made a trip to the garden store and was amazed by the plethora of gadgets aimed at the American gardening public.  After a few minutes of searching through oversized handles and goofy colors, I found just what I needed, an unadorned and well built set of ambidextrous bypass pruners (pictured above.) 

By the time I arrived back at Briarwood, wife Rebecca was on her way down the long gravel drive to pick up a pizza for supper.  Since I had a few minutes, I decided to try out my new pruners on the overgrowth along the fencerow that parallels the drive.  It was slow going, but each cut was a pleasure which led me to the next.  The balance and mechanism were wonderful, and by the time Rebecca arrived home, I had managed to trim about twenty feet of fenceline.  That leaves just a bit over five hundred feet to do!

In years past, I've pruned that fencerow with electric hedge trimmers.  It always managed to look even and fresh, but it always seemed like a job to be done.  I cannot remember a time when it was a pleasure.  But now, with my Fiskars Bypass Pruning Shears, it was an event- an opportunity to know the farm a bit more intimately.  The slow rythem of the job allowed me to see every bird's nest, to find every honey locust sapling and clip it at the base before it punctured a tire- or worse, a shoe sole.  I noticed the snake skin where it had been shed by its owner earlier in the year, and the slowly decaying skull from some past deer hunt.  It became my choice how far to trim back the sassafras limb peeking through the honeysuckle, and whether or not to leave the wild rose intact for next spring's blooms.  The machine was no longer in control, but I was. 

I've been out twice since that initial outing with my new shears.  The work is a lot slower, but it is much more satisfying.  It is not so much about getting the job done quickly anymore.  Rather it is about the experience of maintaining this little piece of Eden that God has placed into my care.  At the end of the day, I suppose that is something of a parable for life.  We get caught up so readily in measuring our accomplishments that we miss the joy of the job itself.  Perhaps it would be better if we could take the time to enjoy our journey a bit more and concentrate less upon the destiniation.

Oh yes, my thanks go out to the engineers at Fiskars.  You have built a wonderful tool which is a joy to use.

The Eve of the feast of St. Mary Magdaline

Today has been a wonderful day.  After a quick round of chores at the barn, I showered and drove to Mingo Lodge in Logan for a planning meeting of the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry.  It was good to see old friends and to share ideas for the coming year.  The theme for the day was building character and virtue in the lives of the members of our fraternity.  Such a positive time together was a welcome relief from some of the events of the past couple of weeks.

I returned home to check my e-mail and find this wonderful picture of my grand-daughters, Margaret and Helen, taking their snack together.   Then it was out into the garden to pick tomatoes and peaches and cucumbers, some of which made a delightful lunch.  At about 3:30, Tristan called just to say hi.  It was good to hear him sounding so happy and contented.  I think his carefree joy has something to do with some girls he met from Austria.  It is so good to see him experiencing civilian joys in peace and safety.

Then Rebecca and I drove up for Vespers with our friends at Holy Cross Carpathian Orthodox Church in Columbus.  Sometimes it is good to meet God from the perspective of a layman.  Then we finished out the day by eating at "Chick Fil A," as much as a political and moral statement as anything else, but their food is good. (see http://m.bpnews.net/bpnews.asp?id=38271 if you need some background on the company and the controversy surrounding them.)

From there it was just home, chores (all eight Speckled Sussex Hens laid an egg today!), some time with Scott's "Fair Maid of Perth" and a wee dram of Sherry on the porch surrounded by the dogs, and now it is almost time for bed.  Such an Eve of the Feast of St. Mary Magdaline I cannot remember!

PS: for those who may wonder, Squirt the Shetland Pony has completely recovered from her brush with founder and is back on pasture with her friend Princess, the Thoroughbred-Arab Cross.

Rector's Rambling- August 2012

The heat is more bearable today, down to a very seasonable 90 degrees from the 105 to 107 degree readings of a week or two ago.  The morning started with about an hour and a half in the garden and at the barn.  I don't do farm work on Sundays unless an emergency is involved, because I really do believe in keeping the sabbath as much as possible.  As a result of my "sabbath observance," the straw bale garden on the north-west side of the barn had gotten a bit dry and a couple of winter squash plants were looking extremely droopy this morning.  The good soaking they received will doubtless have the desired impact by mid-day, but the event gave me reason for reflection.  As a general rule, it is not the great events that distinguish my life, or build my walk with God.  Rather it is the mundane, the repetitive, and even the boring sameness of every day which truly demonstrate my character and bring me success in the spiritual as well as in the secular realm.

Since mid May, those squash plants have been watered nearly every day that it did not rain, and that is most of them.  They are large and flourishing, covered with blossoms and fruit.  And yet missing water for a day and a half could have been fatal to them.  Their health and well being depends on being watered and tended every day.  Continued neglect could not have been corrected by even the most heroic efforts.  It is the same in my life.  If I decided not to return calls or not to go to work for just a few weeks, my reputation and my business would suffer.  If I decided not to pray or read the Bible or receive the Sacrament for half a month, my walk with God would suffer, not because He thought any less of me, but because I had deserted Him.

Someone once said that character is the sum total of many consistant and regular small decisions made over many years.  I believe they are absolutely spot on.  A student who exhibits irregular attendance and only submits every other paper will certainly fail.  A workman who comes to work only when he feels like it will soon find himself on the unemployment line.  A Christian who prioritizes sports or hobbies or sleeping in or another object or person, over time with God in Word and Sacrament and Prayer will soon find his or her faith languishing and withering like my winter squash vines. 

The grace bestowed in Baptism and past Communion received is mighty indeed.  The direction from and intimacy with God that comes from reading the Bible and praying in months or years past should never be devalued.  But the Christian who neglects the regular cultivation of their spiritual life through those disciplines given and modeled by our Lord Jesus Christ is literally endangering their walk with God and giving Satan an entre into their spiritual life.  Before long, attendance on the holy ordinances of God are absent from the person's life.  Other spiritualities and forms of self-reliance replace those life giving springs in which we all agreed to participate in our baptism and at our confirmation.  While the person in question might remain a very nice person and a good neighbor, their faith in the immanence of the Living Christ dwindles, and like my squash vine, their Christian witness withers away and dies.

Jesus often told stories from the natural and the farming and the laboring world to make a spiritual point.  We call these stories his parables.  They have been defined as earthly stories with heavenly meanings.  With all my heart, I believe that they are an indication that a loving Father has built his truth into creation itself, that we might be drawn to him, and empowered to discover his truth.  Scripture tells us that the heavens declare the glory of God, and the Earth shows forth his handiwork.  Even the humble winter squash has so much to teach us about ourselves, and our walk with God.  Let us all open our eyes to the prophetic design which is God's gift to us, and let us labour every day to draw closer to him by making those things which he modeled and commanded a regular part of our lives.

Bill+

PS: It occurs to me that there are real emergencies or situations in our lives which on occasion prevent our daily watering of our souls.  If you find yourself in such a situation, call me at 740/215-3900.  We have a priest, a deacon, and at least four licensed lay eucharistic ministers who can come to your home and help with the watering when real emergencies come into your life.

Flowers, and Memories of Those We Love

Yesterday morning, I harvested several beautiful yellow dinnerplate dahlias and arranged them in a crystal vase for wife Rebecca's office in our home.  She paid me one of the most wonderful compliments I could ever have received.  "Grandpa would have loved your dahlias."  I replied, "I didn't know he kept them."  She responded, "Oh yes, he always said they were as big as a dinnerplate."  I think it was the first time I have ever been cast in his shadow, and it is an honor indeed.

Ray Bonar grew up on the Ohio River and enlisted in the US Army just in time to deploy with General Blackjack Pershing's boys to Mexico in response to Pancho Villa's raid into US territory.  He was a trooper in D Troop, 12th US Cavalry, and had a horse shot out from under him during the war.  His leg wound ultimately brought him back to Ohio where he worked as a mining engineer, married Blanche, and reared three daughters, one of whom is my mother in law Twila.  Rebecca remembers him as a very old man who was quiet, squatted on the porch in a very curious position while entertaining a very special little girl, read National Geographic Magazine a lot, and was more than willing to spend time with his eldest grand-daughter, now my wife.  He chewed Mail Pouch Tobacco, and used to keep a pouch filled with prunes so that Rebecca could chew and spit with him when other adults were not around.  My wife worships his memory and treasures the love he showed to her.  I never got to meet him, but over the years I have heard so much about him.  I remember how when I posted to the 107th Cavalry and received my spur award, I felt close to him- as if we shared some common heritage or experience.  And now his little girl, my wife,  invokes his memory in appreciation of my dinner plate dahlias.  Truly, I am a man blessed by God.

Peace Amidst the Unexpected

This is not a picture of innocence
Rumbling Thunder, aka "Squirt" as a four year old

There are two rules that country folks take for granted:
1. Good fences make good neighbors.
2. Always close the gate.

As Rebecca and I have developed Briarwood (our home) over the last fifteen or so years, we have tried to be very careful about fencing, but even the best fences cannot do their job if you leave gates open.  Earlier this week, I opened the back gate to the main production plot on the west side of the barn to water the tomatoes, spinach, turnips, potatoes, horseradish, sunflowers, cucumbers, squash, and beans planted there.  From there, I pulled the hose to another location and hooked it into a drip irrigation system and went back to the house. 

When I got home from Columbus later that evening, I noticed that the gate was jammed open against the end of the chicken coop.  I had given her an inch and she had taken a mile.  Squirt had wedged herself between the rail fence and the edge of the barn, managed to make the turn into the production patch in spite of the closeness of the chicken coop to the gate, and proceeded to eat about a third of a row of beans.  She must not have liked them, because then she reversed her location and left without trampling anything else, and when I got home was waiting to come back into the barn for her evening ration of oats and sweet feed. 

When I was a younger man, I probably would have gotten mad, but now I am old, and so I just laughed, replanted the beans, and gave my lovely old pony her grain, along with a bit of a curry.  After all, the mistake was mine.  She was only doing what instinct and curiosity and lack of supervision dictated that she do. 

Very few things in this life are as important as I thought they were when I was younger.  I want to bring a bit of beauty to this place where God has put me.  I want to encourage people to experience the wonders of liberty responsibly and in a manner which is pleasing to God.  I want to live in a way which will encourage my children and grandchildren to want to follow Jesus and get to heaven.  I want to spend every day God gives us with my wife. 

From time to time, other ponies break into the garden of my life and make a bit of a mess of things.  I've found it best just to find the humor in it all, make the necessary corrections that I can control, and move on to do what needs to be done.  It is a formulae for contentment in life.

And next time, I'll remember to close the gate!

Gardening at Briarwood

Now that most of the garden staples are planted for the year, there is time for a little bit of experimentation.  I've planted about 65 feet of straw bale crops this year, mostly tomatoes and peppers of various sorts, with a few peas, some cucumbers, and a bit of spinach.  I believe the key to success in this plot is water- huge ammounts of water applied every day.  (Fortunately, we live on the Amanda Aquifer, and water is not a problem.)  Time will tell if I am right.  To get the bales ready for planting, I layed them on their sides (binder up) and end to end, gave them a healthy dose of urea (34% nitrogen), and kept them wet for a couple of weeks.  Everything seems to be growing well, and nothing has burnt up yet.   For some years now, I've worked unsuccessfully to extend the spinach and lettuce seasons into the hot months of summer.  I've tried shade cloth and more water, but the crops still bolt with the onset of July's heat.  This year, I'm trying again with a small hydrophonics system which receives morning sun only and is set to bathe the roots in organically fertilized and oxygenated water every hour, with two extended periods of watering each day.  It may be as unsuccessful as prior attempts, but I always learn something about how things grow, and I do enjoy it.  If it doesn't work, the chickens are always glad to eat a few extra heads of overgrown greens.

The Peonies (pronounced Pineys in this part of the world) are beginning to bloom ever so gloriously, and the Siberian Iris have joined their German and Dutch cousins in a magnificent display.  While they have not yet bloomed, the Marigolds and Nastursums are in place to accompany the Pansys as row markers throughout the garden.  The hummingbird feeders have a steady clientele and I am going through about a quart of birdseed a day, along with one suet block.  The birds have found us this year.  With this in mind, I've started a flat of Sunflower plants which should sprout on Monday or Tuesday.  The climbing Roses are blooming nicely, and I expect the tea Roses to start in the next week or so.  The bush Roses will not be far behind.  Fortunately, Princess and Squirt, the Equines, not only mow the pasture, but also provide us with small mountains of high quality fertilizer.

I cannot but praise the God who has surrounded me with such beauty.  Through the blessings of location and lots of hard work, Rebecca and I have been favoured to open a window on Heaven- to build Jerusalem in this green and pleasant land.  I hope and pray that all who read these words might find a way to share the beauty of God in your own way and in your own situation.  So Mote It Be!

A Perfect Weekend

The weekend began Friday evening with a casual dinner at the Pub with my Cousins from Cladaugh Council #86, Knight Masons- Irish Constitution.  After a wonderful board with pipe and whistle music to mark St. Patrick's Day, we repaired to the Lodge and conferred the Babylonian Pass on one candidate.  The courage and steadfastness of Zerrubabel and the other Jewish Captives as they sought to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem has always inspired me, and this night was no exception.  We then returned to the pub for convivial fellowship and plenty of time to renew old friendships and make new ones.

Saturday Morning began early at Lancaster Chapter #11, Royal Arch Masons.  Two candidates received the Royal Arch Degree, one of the most sublime in Masonry, and for a change, I was priviledged to sit on the sidelines and see the degree in its entireity.  It was a grand opportunity to reconsider my own dedication to God, and to consider those things that are truly important in life.

The afternoon brought several hours in the garden with my beautiful wife Rebecca.  I divided siberian Irisis and lined the lower north walkway with these diminutive and beautiful plants while Rebecca planted primrose along the east walks as a transition to the conical boxwoods which define our grand-daughters' secret garden.

The evening found me clad in saffron kilt with bottle green socks and tie and day wear jacket at the home of good friends Steve and Camille for their annual Irish dinner.  Beef pie, taties, cabbage and corned beef, lamb, garden peas, and desserts to die for filled the board, and the evening was finished off with cigars and Irish malt, and discussions of faith and fraternity with our hosts and friends Danny and Julie.  Such an evening spent with fellow Anglicans and Freemasons was both uplifting and inspiring.  I returned home with peace in my heart towards all men.

On Sunday morning I preached twice, and on this fourth sunday of Lent considered the life and ministry of Archbishop Rowan Williams, who announced his resignation from the see of Canterbury this week.  While I disagreed with this good man on many things, I have always found in his life and ministry real inspiration and challenge.  In what many might consider this most difficult time for our Communion, he sought to keep us together while providing safe havens for minority faith communities within the communion.  He attempted to lead us into a rational and loving structure which would define our faith and make us more accountable to each other.  And he sought to defend the historic faith received against what at times seemed overwhelming cultural odds.  His gentle counsels were often rejected by those who might have profited the most from hearing them.  I wish him the best as he re-enters the academic life.

After Church, Rebecca and I joined Bill and Nancy, friends and parishoners for a lovely breakfast at Shaw's Restraunt across the street from the church.  The eggs Benedict were splendid, and the asparagus was perfectly steamed.  The conversation strayed from ++Cantaur to the Parish Gardens to the Iraqi Rowing Team, for which Bill is an advisor.  My soul was refreshed by the good work and beauty that surrounds me.

From lunch, we went to the Funeral Home to pay our respects to Jan, the sister of our friend Carole.  Her illness was long and terible and now she is at peace.  Even in times of loss, it is good to see a family where love is so evident in the lives of all.

The day concluded with Choral Evensong at St. John's.  Our choir was joined by choristers from Trinity Newark, St. Paul's Logan, and Holy Cross Carpathian Orthodox Church in Columbus.   The setting, including the Mag and Nunc, was composed by Kathy Heim,  our Choir mistress, and one of the featured hymns was written by Thurlow Weed, our Organist.  To hear the people of so many parishes gathered in worship employing their own original compositions truly gave me a deeper understanding of liturgy as the work of the people.  As we gathered for a light lenten repast in the undercroft, I gave thanks again for God's soverign decision to post me to this place at this time.

I came home to relax on the back porch with a gin and tonic and a bowl of MacBaren's Navy Flake.  The dogs and I watched the lightening show for the better part of an hour and a half, and now we have all retired to the chapel/study to share the weekend with you, my gentle readers.  It is good to dwell in such a place and with such people.  I pray that all who read this post might find such joy in the realities of your own lives.  Surely God is among us here, and we are a people blessed. 

Ah, Spring!

The Gateway to Paradise: A Garden Entrance at Briarwood Last Spring

After an unusually mild winter, spring seems to have come early to Fairfield County. It has been accompanied by what the ancients would have considered to be powerful omens. Jupiter and Venus have been profoundly beautiful as they danced together in the western sky over the past few weeks. Mars is ascending steadily in the east, and friends who are not as distracted by city lights as we are here at Briarwood tell me that Saturn is clearly visible on the eastern horizon. Last night, a mighty thunderstorm struck after mid-night and the counties to our east and southeast experienced flooding and reported tennis ball sized hail. I really don’t know what to make of it all, and I don’t put much stock in omens, but the passing of winter this year has been spectacular.

Daffodils and Narcissi bloom profusely in the cutting garden, and the greenhouse literally bulges with young spring plants awaiting their final transplanting into the garden. The propagators have been working overtime, and are currently populated by tomatoes, peppers, and second plantings of lettuces, cabbages, and greens. Hopefully, next week I will be able to till the garden plots, set the trellises, and plant garden peas. Potatoes are also in our future. About half of the plot will be grown in containers filled with straw, a little experiment I’ve contemplated for several years, but never gotten around to managing. Over the weekend, parsnips, turnips, kohlrabi, and beets should get their starts in the propagators. I’ll plant a few more than we can use, because the chickens seem to like them (but then the chickens seem to like about everything!)

Speaking of chickens, my beautiful flock of eight Speckled Sussex hens is now presenting me with six to seven eggs a day. They are overseen by Chanticleer, a monstrously mean, but dashingly handsome rooster of the same breed. Sussex hens tend to be pretty broody, so as the year advances, I’ll let one of the girls hatch out some chicks. We will keep two or three as replacements, and donate the rest to the Common Friars in Athens.

The pastures have greened considerably in the last two days, and as always, it is good to see our old horses, Princess and Squirt, enjoying their retirement. A bit more gaunt and swaybacked than when they were in their prime, they are ever present reminders of when this farm rang with the laughter of children on a daily basis. The place would not be the same without them.

The trees are beginning to show signs of life, and it won’t be long until I will be able to sit on the porch with a pipe and a wee dram and hear the buds pop open in the woods. Even as I write, the air is filled with the deafening chorus of a plethora of peeper frogs. Just a few years ago, we were afraid that we had lost them, but this year and last they are back in all of their spring glory.

Briarwood is a blessed place to be any time of the year, but especially as the winter turns to spring. It is in a very real way an icon of that Heavenly City, which will one day come down as a bride adorned for her husband. Here is balance and harmony, plenty and peace. I pray Rebecca and I might be good stewards of this place that all who come here might be drawn into relationship with the maker of it all.

As I pen my goodbyes tonight, the terriers are curled up at my feet. Faithful Pat is in the woods running game, which is what all old hounds are paid to do. Might we all so employ our instincts that the Great Architect and Creator of the Universe be ever glorified! Amen.

Happy the man...

"beatus ille qui procul negotiis...paterna rura bobus exercet suis"
-happy the man who far away from business...tills with his own oxen the fields his father owned-
                                                      Horace, Epodes ii:1-3

I was up early this morning for no apparent reason.  The terriers were more lethargic than usual, but after they bounced out the door and down into the woods for their morning constitutional, I settled in to pay some bills and take care of some outstanding business.  But first, I walked over to the left wall of the chapel to turn on the propagator lights.  I love starting seeds in the late winter.  Last week it was broccoli and collards- this week lettuces, cabbage, spinach, and kohlrabi.  After a couple of weeks inside, they will all be ready for transplanting to the greenhouse, although hard freezes this time of year can be treacherous even with double frames inside the unheated greenhouse.  Sometime in the next week or two, the tomatoes and peppers will get their starts, although they take a bit more care in handling until the last frost sometime in early to mid-May. 

My gardening propositions this year include plans to be a bit more intentional about row-cropping flowers to cut and keep in the house.  With Rebecca back to teaching from home again, it is wonderful to experience the small joys of domesticity, and cut flowers are definitely one of those joys.  I'm also planning to be a bit more organized about rotational planting this year to give more of a rolling harvest for immediate consumption, with the larger crops of garden peas, tomatoes, fruits, and berries being the focus of preservation for winter's enjoyment.  The plan this year is to start everything inside, even the peas and beans.  In theory, this should allow for more systematic weed control and less waste of seed.  It also allows me to play with my propagator and greenhouse.  When the well stocked grocer is just around the corner, one has a bit more liberty in exploring new horticultural ideas.

Ohio is a wonderful place to be as winter fades into spring.  I think I'll have a cup of tea and read morning prayer and give thanks for it all.

      

Life As Stewardship

I love living in the country for many reasons, but perhaps my greatest joy comes from the opportunity it affords me to give back something to the land.

After the onset of winter last week, the last couple of days have been unseasonably warm.  As the weather inched into the upper 50's, I decided to clean the horse stalls and chicken house.  The scrapings totalled between twelve and fifteen wheelbarrows full of muck and soiled bedding, all of which made a very nice dressing for the raspberry canes.  Today after church, I took the dogs and walked down into the woods to check the game runs.  There was a significant amount of fresh deer sign from last night and early this morning, but pretty much all of the animals had moved on by the time we arrived.  The squirrels seemed well fed on the fall's ample supply of black walnuts, and cuttings littered the ground at several locations.  I re-stacked some brush piles, which should help the rabbits and squirrel to find some relief from the hawks and owls.  While the springs have never recovered from the Corps of Engineers' last "improvement" to the watershed, I was able to get far enough into the wet areas to make some plans for restoration in the coming months.  The recent losses of Ash and Elm trees in our area have cleared up some nice plots where I hope to plant Shag-bark Hickory in late February or early March, just before I plant the first peas and potatoes. 

Husbandry is a lot like the Christian life.  We start with wonderful opportunities fraught with serious limitations, and we apply a combination of love and reason to make something better than what was there when we began.  By God's grace and through many mistakes, improvement is measured in the long term and seldom appears either quickly or easily.  Then at the end of it all, we go on to our reward and leave the legacy to someone else, just as we received it from those who preceded us.  What a blessing it is to know that we make a difference, even if only for a little while.