Bramble Creek Farm to Greenbrier Cottage

The Bag Ladies

2011-04-17T17:56:00.000-07:00

When Michele and I went to Sunny Valley this Friday, we had no idea we were going to be asked to paint the ceiling in the "Welcome Center," so naturally we did not bring any old painting clothes, but as need gives birth to invention, we discovered a way to get the job done and save our good pair of jeans. The very same jeans we wore to dinner at the Wolf Creek Inn the night before. The solution was a 50 cent rain poncho from "Dollar Tree" and waste basket bags carefully layered over the legs and shoes. The rain ponchos gave the added protection to the tops of our heads though it couldn't keep our faces and eyeglass from being speckled with "Country White" paint. We successfully completed our task before dark and Michele still got the bathrooms cleaned. That's one amazing friend. Imagine meeting these two be-speckled bag ladies after dark in the woods around Wolf Creek. Haaarrrrrr.

Tamales for the New Year

2011-01-09T14:28:00.000-08:00

I had made tamales only one time before Elizabeth encouraged me to make them for New Years. Consider four women in one small kitchen chopping, mixing, steaming, shredding, grating, sautéing, spreading, folding, and tying. Imagine pots and bowls on ingredients stacked around cutting boards and bags of foods. The air is filled with warm, spicy aromas and everyone is busy doing two or three things at a time.

Elizabeth chose two varieties from her mother's tamales cookbook. One was for chicken and the other was vegetarian. I cooked the chicken in the morning and then left with Sanford for a road trip to Sutherlind. The three other women, Lynnea, Elizabeth, and Tammy (Elizabeth's mother) arrived around 1:30 to cook and assemble everything else. By the time I stepped into my kitchen at 2:00 p.m., there wasn't a clear spot to set a glass of water. We were scheduled to be at my mother's house at 5:00 pm with tamales. Ha! Besides the usual problems of figuring out a recipe you are not familiar with, the kitchen sink decided to protest. While washing a pot, the hot water refused to shut off. Justin and Sanford came to our rescue.

So now we have tool boxes and tools and two extra bodies in the already cozy kitchen AND no water for washing off hands. Some precariously balanced cutting board crashed down onto Sanford's tray of screws and bolt supplying us with the setting for a good "I Love Lucy Show."

The boys calmly gathered the hardware and fixed the sink and the girls got back to assembling enough ingredients to feed a football team.

We realized that we were not going to make our dinner date by 5:00 p.m., however, by 6:00 p.m. the kitchen was clean and the second batch of tamales were nearly finished cooking. We all headed over to my mother's house with pots of tamales keeping us warm in the freezing fog.

I can honestly say that these were the best tamales I have ever eaten.

I have a new appreciation for the women who make tamales for a living.

Next time my neighbor knocks on my door offering tamales for $2.00 a piece, I am going to think, "Wow, what a bargain. I should buy a dozen."

I offer a big word of thanks to Elizabeth and Lynnea and Tammy for making such a fun and memorable time by issuing in a new year in the company of friends and honest, wholesome, delicious labor.

The Light of God dressed in a blanket

2011-01-01T20:14:00.000-08:00

What do you get when you cross curtains and blankets with Christmas? You get shepherd costumes. I am wearing one of the costumes on loan to Ashland First Baptist Church from Box R Ranch. I am also wearing my mother's long underwear, wool socks, turtle neck shirt and wool sweater. I was very warm and plump. My friends, Carol and Trisha,and I had a great time parading around as shepherds at the first Live Nativity. I think half of the church congregation helped in one form or another to express the wonderful mystery of God we celebrate at Christmas. The creator of the universe enters the world, that had rebelled against him, as a helpless baby in order to suffer a cruel death so he could offer a cure for any one wanting it. Amazing!

We had it all, angels, a star, farm animals, Mary, Joseph, inn keepers, and a manger. Let's not forget the shepherds. We also had hundreds of luminaries, cookies, hot cocoa and a campfire, which also got canceled due to the fact that we have so many firefighters attending 1st Baptist and we didn't get a permit for such a thing. Fortunately, firefighters know how to get permits for campfires and therefore we ended up having one well contained campfire.

Were we successful? Lisa Caplinger's goal was to involve her church family in loving her home town of Ashland with the love of Christ, who is the reason for Christmas. If meeting her goal defines success, then I would have to say we hit the bull's eye. Now multiply this effort and consider all the ways this body of Christians demonstrated the love of God this Christmas and one would stand amazed to realize that Christ is still alive and well and living in Ashland, Oregon in the 21 century.

I am so glad God doesn't hold us responsible for making people choose the light. There are still many, many folks living in our midst who don't even know they possess a terminable condition requiring the Christ who came at Christmas. Jesus only tells us to be a light, letting Him shine through us into the darkness. May the light of Christ shine in Ashland and Talent and the whole Rogue Valley until the cure be made known. This can be done all year long with, or without, a shepherd's robe.

Finding Beauty Where Ever I Live

2010-05-18T22:46:00.000-07:00

On March 7 I planted flowers in a previously barren corner of dirt by the front door of Greenbrier Cottage. This week the Columbine bloomed. It is the first time I recall having Columbine blossom for me. I consider it a gift of remarkable beauty. Since that first planting, over 2 months ago, I have also added a window box with Pansies. The Nasturtiums have nearly crowed the Pansies into concealment but the purple and yellow continue to peek over the round leaves in companionable serenity. I have always wanted a flower box and now I have one.

The Petunia basket my mother gave me has opened its magenta blossoms and seems to be thriving in the cool, wet spring we are having in Southern Oregon. In fact, the whole front yard has turned into an "Oasis of Beauty" as I had hoped. It may not be remarkable to the casual observer, but to me, it is a testimony of God's Grace. It is the story of redemption.

When we moved here last August, there was nothing but dry fox tails and black walnut hulls littering the yard. Today new grass has replaced the fox tails and fragrant blossoms have taken root in the once barren soil. It has transformed Greenbrier Cottage from an ugly shack to a darling cottage. Even the Snowball Bush I feared had been killed by previous tenants proudly supports a hummingbird feeder under its dazzling blossoms. And this is only May, just think what June will bless me with.

Soul Food

2010-03-07T18:17:00.000-08:00

"If thou of fortune be bereft.

And in thy store there be but left

Two loaves - sell one, and with the dole

Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul."
by

James Terry White 1845-1920

I went to the Grange Co-op yesterday for grass seed and these flower starts just jumped into my cart. I had to take them home. After planting the grass seed yesterday, I started on the flower borders today. Most of the plants were labeled for "full sun." No problem, most of the areas where I wanted to plant them were in full sun today. Half way through the planting I realized these dear little flowers will not be in full sun this summer. The black walnut tree will shade nearly every inch of my front yard at least part of the time during the day. Oh, well, so much for my plans of turning the entrance of my house into an oasis of beauty. Last week-end, I did plant six rose bushes along the chain link fence. Four are climbers. I also planted a fragrant flowering vine on either side of the gate arbor Justin gave me.

Oasis or not, I will have beauty to feast on.

I will find it where ever it blooms and

fill my hungry soul with it,

to sustain me during the wintry times of dormant darkness.

Sowing Beauty in hope of reaping a Feast and

feasting on Beauty where ever it is found.

Violin lessons at 50 something

2010-01-28T19:11:00.000-08:00

Never too old.

Beautiful bull calf

2010-01-28T18:49:00.000-08:00

Here are pictures of Beauty and her calf. These pictures were taken January 23, one month after she gave birth to her first calf. I didn't get to attend the birth but Mary Ellen did. All went well. Beauty is a good mother.

I love this picture. Beauty is standing by her calf. The hill behind Bramble Creek Farm is directly above her. Wagner Butte is to the left. This picture was taken on the Deluca farm where Beauty now lives. The Delucas named the calf "Moostrom." Isn't he a fine looking boy calf?

Learn to Dance

2010-01-24T12:17:00.000-08:00

Sanford and I went to our first International Folk Dance on Friday.  I have wanted to go for years but always found some reason to hesitate.  I always though I would enjoy it but Sanford wouldn't.  I was wrong.  Sanford liked it.  I loved it.  We will go again.  The following poem expresses better than I can the essence of folk dancing.  My wish for all is that we may all learn to dance.  For an idea of what folk dancing is visit the Mori Shej and Jacob's Ladder video.

Music

I ache to hear sometimes, a music very strange from what the radio plays:
not of bouncy cheer, but rather Joy, not angry thrust, but melancholies in
minor, full of ancient achings seeping from the ground, and rising to the
sky.

A music of no person, but of people. A music beyond the pleasures and
pains of any one life, that sing of the cycles which require centuries. A
music not of answers but of awe,  not just of love nor only of youth, but
Life entire, not but of she and he, but everyone, not simply Now, but of
Always.

I need music of the dark and Light both, a music with abandon coming down
from when the world was wilder, music that gives all, yet yearns to say
more than maybe music can.
by GORDON YASWEN

Reflections on a gift of a red coat

2010-01-01T07:42:00.000-08:00

Here are my brother and I about to embark on an after Christmas shopping spree. I am wearing my old plaid coat Sanford brought home from the free pile at work. I have enjoyed this coat for a couple of years but recently my cat decided it was delicious. He started chewing on it. Some of the corners were chewed off. It will now become my "work" coat, the one I wear when I'm not really wanting to chance getting my new one dirty.

My new coat is a gift from my daughter and son-in-law. It's not just a coat. It is a reminder that life is beautiful, that I am loved, that miracles happen, that some dreams come true. My daughter has heard me say many times how I have always wanted a red coat, from the time I could first decide what kind of coat I might like. Yes, since I was a little girl, I have always wanted a red coat.

I bought myself one once. I beautiful red coat with black velvet trim, but, thinking myself clever, I brought it to the cleaners one spring day thinking I would have it cleaned and ready by the time Fall came. I never thought about it again until the weather turned cold in October. After searching every possible nook and cranny I remembered the cleaners. When I went in to claim it, the attendant casually explained how they send unclaimed garments to Goodwill after 6 months. I am still angry that no one called me before sending my beautiful red coat off to the second hand store, but I am hoping the person who bought it feels blessed for finding such a garment as that at a Goodwill store.

I know I feel extremely blessed to have a loving daughter and son-in-law who found the perfect gift to give me this year, a red coat. To the person who found my old red coat in Goodwill, I hope you know that life is good, you are loved, miracles happen, and some dreams come true. To Matthew and Lynnea, thank you for your gift this Christmas I will cherish it always, however, I don't know if I will ever get it cleaned.

How Cold Can It Go?

2009-12-07T20:50:00.000-08:00

I am not complaining. I would rather have colder temperatures and sun shine during the day than warmer temperatures and endless fog, but this cold spell is a challenge for fair weather, heat seeking souls such as myself. I took two hot water bottles to bed with me last night. The heat from the gas heater in the living room just doesn't make its way 15 feet down the hall to the bedroom even if the ceiling fan is working at top speed. The outside temperature this morning was 18 degrees. The temperature in my bedroom this morning was 46 degrees. What can I say, San and I have never left the heat on at night but tonight I think I will. The forecast is for 9 degrees by morning. I am so glad I don't have to worry about goats any longer, just four chickens who are huddled together in a snug little chicken house, but I wonder if they drank any water all day. The fresh water I left out this morning was froze when I got home after work and it didn't look any lower than it did in the morning. And what about the dog and the cat? No worries, they are sprawled out in front of the gas flames of the heater, never yielding their pampered position.

Frosty Sunday Morn

2009-12-07T20:25:00.000-08:00

Saturday was a miserably cold, foggy day. San and I sat around the stove most of the day, not wanting to venture outside. We finally forced ourselves out to put up Christmas lights at 2:00 in the afternoon. We went to bed with forecasts of colder temperatures. Sure enough, it got colder but, oh, the beautiful day that dawned Sunday. San's theory is that all the fog froze in the night so no fog remained in the morning, only crystal clear air and white frosted beauty on every fallen leaf. As we walked down to the Community Center for a Lion's Breakfast, I captured the frozen beauty and drank up the sparkling air.

Hot Chocolate

2009-12-06T13:08:00.001-08:00

If you want a wholesome but indulging cup of warm winter comfort, then tuck the pre-packaged hot cocoa mix away and stir up the real thing. You can make it as wholesome and organic as you want. The recipe calls for sugar but I have used agave, honey, and brown sugar instead.

1/3 cup sugar
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1 cup water

Mix these ingredients together in 2 quart saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium high heat. Boil for 1 minute, reduce heat to medium and add,

3 cups whole milk

Heat milk and chocolate, stirring occasionally until very warm but not boiling. Remove from heat and add

1/4 cup of half and half
1 teaspoon vanilla

Serve immediately topped with whipped cream or marshmallow or peppermint sticks or enjoy it undressed in all its goodness and wholesomeness.

The secret to making this an enjoyable indulgence it to not over heat the milk. When you add the half and half the chocolate milk becomes the perfect temperature to guzzle down for a gentle warming from the inside out. A perfect way to start the day on these freezing foggy mornings.

Finding my lost puppy

2009-11-29T21:12:00.001-08:00

Toby has been getting out of the yard lately but I kept patching hole and I thought the fence was secure when we left for Thanksgiving dinner at my moms on Thursday. San went home while I stayed to play a game of Scrabble with the family. San called to tell me Toby was missing. After spending a miserable night worrying about him, and posting signs around the neighborhood the next morning, and calling animal control, a man called to say he had found a little black dachshund the night before on Rapp Road. He thought he had been hit by a car because his eye, nose and mouth were bleeding. He brought him back that afternoon. Toby seems to be all right though a little more subdued than normal. I hope Toby has learned a lesson and will be content to stay home from now on.

Finding long lost relatives

2009-10-14T14:47:00.000-07:00

I found out that a section of the Rogue River is named "Gleason Bar." I discovered this when Sanford and I went for an Autumn hike recently. The hike was beautiful. We hiked from Graves Creek to Whiskey Creek, a 6 mike hike there and back. I was surprised to see my maiden name on the Forest Service map. I've been told, by relatives visiting Ireland, that "Gleason" is an English corruption of the Irish name Gleeson. Therefore, I am certain I must be related somehow to the person this part of the Rogue River is named after, even though there is no clear link that I know of; but the proof came only two days later when I attended the annual Sunny Valley Applegate Trail celebration with my mother. We discovered a lone surviving photograph of the early Gleason pioneer women. They hold a remarkable resemblence to my mother and me. I have always felt I had pioneer blood in me.

It must be October

2009-10-10T18:57:00.001-07:00

The flowers are still blooming even though we did have a frost last week. This is our new little black kitty. I haven't settled on a name yet. I am open to suggestions.

We had a wonderful surprise this fall. When I knew we would be selling the farm early this summer, I was sad to think I wouldn't be able to harvest the abundant apple and grape crop this fall. I knew the grapes at the new house wouldn't amount to much because the tenants had done nothing to keep the outside groomed or watered. I was wrong. The grapes growing along the back fence at our talent house are beautiful. We have had an ample harvest with lots to give away. And talk about taste. They are delicious and beautiful to behold.

Aesthetics and God

2009-09-13T15:18:00.000-07:00

Commit thy works unto the Lord
and thy thoughts shall be established.
Proverbs 16:3

One of the details I was up set about when we moved into the Talent house was the heater. I suppose I should have been happy it worked, but I was not. It is the first thing you see when you step in the front door, and I want my house to be beautiful, not just livable. I asked Sanford about replacing the gas heater. He was not too enthusiastic about the idea, so I decide to do some investigating. I visited some local gas stove dealers to see what was available. I saw some beautiful stoves. Just the kind of heater I would like to have in my home. I especially liked the heaters with enamel finishes, but they were $1600 to $2000 or more. I knew San would never agree to spend so much on a new heater when the old one worked and would heat the house. $2000 for aesthetics was out of the question. So, I committed my desire to the Lord. I asked him to find me a new heater if it be his will.
Well, I wonder,
did the Lord come up with the idea for Craig's List?
My friend found a used heater on Craig's List. I went to look at. It was $400 dollars. I figured $400 was in the Fleming budget for aesthetics, but to tell the truth, I was not really excited about the stove. It would be better that the old one but not really what I wanted. A few days later I found a brand new stove on Craig's List for $450. It was beautiful. I could definitely feel proud to have that sitting in my front room, even if it wasn't finished in enamel. It had a matte black finish. I contacted the dealer and asked, no, I begged them to hold it for me. I didn't hear from them for 2 days, but when they called they said, "We'll hold it for you." That very afternoon I went to pay for it. When I came through the door I asked them if they had any other heaters for sale. "Only one they replied." Sitting next to the one I had begged to buy was a burgundy red, enamel finished, cast iron gas stove. I gasped with surprised amazement. The color was the exact color of my sofa and chair. I cautiously asked if I could buy that one instead. Yes! Yes, it was still available but it cost $300 more. I bought it. It is perfect. I could not have found a stove I would like better. It will be the first thing you see when you come to visit me. God hears the desires of our hearts and if we trust him, he will establish our thoughts and direct our steps. I think God likes beautiful things as much or more than I do. This burgundy red, enamel finished, cast iron gas stove is my latest "Ebenezar", my rock of rememberance.
"Thus far the Lord has helped me."
I Samuel 7:12

Psalms 37:4 & 5
Delight yourself in the Lord;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
Trust also in Him, and He will do it.

From Farm to Village

2009-09-10T21:04:00.000-07:00

Psalm 33:22
"Let Thy mercy be upon me, O Lord, according as I hope in Thee."

My transition from the farm to our rental house in Talent has been difficult for me to accept, but in the end I did accept it and chose to trust in God for the grace to make a change I did not want to make. I can honestly say, I am glad to be living in Talent, once again. In fact, I love living where I am. Even though my home is not the picturesque cottage I would like it to be and there are many improvements that need to be made, I find joy in the many blessings I have received since moving here. Here is a partial list:

I have a neighbor (my son) from whom I can borrow anything.
I can walk to the store,
the post office,
the library,
Wal-Mart,
the dentist,
my nurse practitioner,
the pharmacy,
my mother's house,
Sunday worship service,
and my friend Chloe's house.
I can catch the bus to work.
I can ride my bicycle home from work.
I don't have to carry the laundry up or down stairs.
I will be babysitting Dan Horton's children on Saturday, next best thing to being a Grandparent.
I can attend the Friday Market in Talent where I can buy fresh farm produce from local gardeners.
I have a new black kitten.
Neighborhood children stop by to visit.
I don't have any grass to mow,
so my week-ends are free for doing other things like taking a trip to Springfield.

I thank God for his bountiful mercies and continue to put my trust and hope in him.

Hi-Ho Cherry-O

2009-07-06T21:43:00.000-07:00

When the cherries ripen at Bramble Creek Farm, one must call on friends, relatives, and strangers to come help bring in the harvest. As in the game, the dog gets a few, the birds get a few, and if we don't spill the bucket, the humans get a bunch.

Tom and Huck Together Again

2009-06-28T21:00:00.000-07:00

To hear these two talk you'd thing Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn had been reunited again after 100 years. Actually, the man having breakfast with us is Wayne. He came into our lives last years and we consider him a "God Sent." He has helped Sanford get things running and fixed up around the farm just in time to find new owners for this 11 acres. While eating hash browns, bacon, and eggs washed down with lots of coffee, these two talked about plans to float down the Mississippi in a pontoon boat and to go ultralight flying, fishing in the bayous, and sailing up the gulf coast. This will all be financed with the gold they pan in Northeast Oregon. If they have their way, Tom and Huck will be turning with envy in their graves while San and Wayne show them how adventures are meant to be.

Call of the Wippoorwill

2009-06-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

There are few sounds that can transport me back to a lazy summer day of my childhood more than the sound of quail calling out from the field and orchard. This beautiful bird sat all morning on top of the gasoline tank and called out to me while I finished brushing paint on the east side of the house, preparing it for the new farmer family who is buying the farm. As I listened to it sing its familiar tune I couldn't help but be filled with overwhelming gratitude to my family for the happy memories of growing up in this beautiful place. I am also grateful to my dear husband for returning here for the past 9 years, allowing me to experience farm life as an adult with all the joys and frustrations that come with it. I also couldn't help but think how I am going to miss this place that has been home to my family for 45 years. There is something sweet but a little bit sad in the call of the Whippoorwill. It's what leaving the farm sounds like.

The fairest of seasons

2009-06-08T22:18:00.000-07:00

If there were ever a time to sell the farm it would be June. The farm is at its best during this fairest of all months. The entire 11 acres if still lush and green. We have just had a solid week of thunderstorms with rain everyday. The red climbing roses are looking their best. The early cherries are ripening. The birds are fluttering everywhere. Today I saw a yellow oriole and yesterday I saw a yellow finch, or some such bird. The hummingbirds have been drinking the feeder dry every week. And wouldn't you know it, that sweet, young, organic farming couple who looked at the farm, and showed an interest in buying, offered us a price we felt we could accept.

Jail Birds

2009-06-08T22:16:00.000-07:00

The chickens had been flying the coop. Toby tried his hardest to keep them in their pen. He chewed on them and pulled them and chased them, but they still flew over the four foot fence like it was nothing. I was complaining to San. Well, okay, I was ranting and raving about how aggravating those chikens can be and how I should just get rid of them when he told me the obvious solution. Clip their wings. It is so easy and doesn't hurt them. The first project of the day Saturday morning was trimming the tips of the flight feathers off. The girls have stayed behind wire bars ever since. One still hops over the two foot fence dividing Toby's run from theirs. She lays an egg every day either in Toby's doghouse or just in front of his door.

Having the right gear

2009-05-14T17:35:00.000-07:00

Sanford told me the roof on the big barn needed to be fixed. He was going to ask Justin to go up there and fix it.

I about blew a gasket! What!! You're going to ask my son to risk his life and limb by crawling over loose tin sheeting 60 to 70 feet in the air!!! All I could picture was Justin floundering about with a rope tied around his middle and the other end around Sanford.

Well, thanks to some friends, Justin borrowed Peter's tree scaling equipment. I wasn't there for the occasion but our neighbor, Poppie, snapped some shots of the event so I could see how it is done. Justin looks pretty relaxed. He had no problem securing the loose roofing.

Thank you Peter.
Thank you Poppie.
Thank you Sanford.
Most of all, thank you Justin for helping your Ma and Pa do a potentially dangerous job with such grace and ease. Next time I'll keep in mind the fact that any job is possible with the right gear and the right friends.

The Blossoms of Spring

2009-04-22T21:05:00.000-07:00

I predict it is going to be a good cherry year.
The cherry trees are in full bloom and the the weather is 90 degrees.

Standing under the canopy of white cherry blossoms,
I can hear a distinct hum from the hundreds of bee wings buzzing around my head.

The bees are flying from blossom to blossom,
around and around creating a constant cloud of movement and sound.

Looking through the lilac bush,
I can see the pear blossoms in the orchard next to our farm.

It seems the whole valley is in bloom.
I think it might be a good year for pears, also.

There is a sweet fragrance in the air.
I comes from the millions of crab apple blossoms.

Easter Joy

2009-04-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

Celebrating with friends - Easter 2009

2009-04-15T19:58:00.001-07:00

With delicious food,

The day was bright.

In the company of friends,
No greater delight

A baby goat, Zoli and Ari, and curious llamas.

Oh, oh, there's llama poop in this egg. Toby's been up to his usual tricks.

Year of the Canadian Geese

2009-04-15T19:34:00.000-07:00

For a month or more there has been a flock of Canadian Geese in or around the pond.
One day I counted 21 geese and 5 wild ducks.
That is the most wild geese I have ever seen at the pond.
I have felt honored when I have seen two geese on the pond, but 21 swells my heart
to near bursting with long for everything wild and free.
Every year I hear the wild, woodland sound of the geese as they honk to each other.
Every year a send telepathic messages to the geese.
"Stay here! Come back! You are welcome."
But every year I am disappointed when a few touch down for an evening
and are gone the next day.
For several years we have had
a goose couple hatch out young, but I never believed they survived the summer.
One summer, Jasmine hunted them. Chasing the mother and babies into the orchard.
The babies were too young to fly and so I thought they must have perished,
but now I think perhaps the goslings did grow to adulthood and have now
returned to their place of birth.
What an honor!
Bramble Creek Farm - home to a tribe of wild Canadian Geese
And to think,
they heard my messages all along.

Apple Blossoms

2009-04-08T21:31:00.001-07:00

These are blossoms from the Gravenstein Apple Tree. They blossom early and produce fruit earlier than the Red and Golden Delicious.

Below is a picture of one of the original Golden Delicious apple trees that grew in our garden when I was a girl. San had cut the branches back severly a couple of years ago. The tree then grew scores of new sprouts. It looked like a hairy bush. I was able to take a fruit tree pruning workshop at the Extension Service this March. I reluctantly took on the task of restoring this old friend to a respectable condition. This is the first time I have pruned the apple trees with a small idea of what I was doing. I hope it turns out to be a job well done.

New Flock of Beauties

2009-04-08T21:09:00.001-07:00

I had convinced myself that I didn't want to bother with chickens anymore, but, Victor Wiggington came driving up the driveway one Saturday with a couple of hens in the back of his pickup. The minute I saw them, I wanted them. I cleaned out the little hen house in the dog run and put them in there. I got two eggs the next day. I was in love.
The next day I told my friend at school about getting the chickens. She said she was thinking about getting rid of hers. Long story short, I now am the proud of owner of 5 beautiful hens. Two are black, one is red, one is golden and one is variegated gold to black. I get between 2 and 4 eggs a day. I hope I will get a more consistent ratio of eggs to hens when they are finally settled in.
The hens share the dog run with Toby. Toby uses it in the morning when I am at work. When I get home, I let Toby out and open the hen house door so the girls can scratch around. It works out nicely so far.

Baby Goat

2009-04-08T20:38:00.000-07:00

Of all the farm animal babies I've seen over the years,
I think a baby goat is the cutest and sweetest baby of all.

The mother goat was born last spring.
She is is still not very big herself,
but has been a good mama.

You can see the baby goat looking at Toby.
The mother goat is always trying to keep Toby
away from her baby.
Toby is always trying to play with the baby.
If I can't find the baby goat
I take Toby along. He always sniffs her out and finds her for me.

Black Beauty

2009-03-25T21:31:00.000-07:00

Black Beauty at 1475 pounds

Our 3 year old Black Angus heifer returned home Monday. She has been standing at Poppie's fence bawling ever since she got back. She misses her friends at Mike Ziemba's farm. We hope we is pregnant with a offspring of "On Focus", one of the top Black Angus Bulls in the business. Mike has a young bull who is the offspring of this prestigious bull. Mike only charged us $130 to pick up Black Beauty and let her have room and board with his bulls for a month. She seems to have enjoyed herself in spite of a severe case of lice she picked up from the close encounters with her kind. The first day back she had rubbed off all the hair on top of her back. I purchased lice spray the next day but have yet to douse her with it. It sounds like a real farm again. The lowing of a lonesome heifer can be heard from morning to night. Thankfully, she stops when it gets dark.

This is Black Beauty as a calf.

Preserving Some of the Raspberries

2009-03-14T17:02:00.000-07:00

Pa Ingalls, in the Little House on the Praire series, was fond of quoting, "There is no great loss without some small gain." I remember him saying this after the crows wiped out their entire corn crop for the year. He shot dozens of the crows and they had them for dinner that night. Well, my u-pick raspberry patch may be history, but today I salvaged some of the canes and replanted them in the garden spot. Sanford came along when I have half way through and finished digging the holes, giving me the encouragement to complete the job. I relocated 22 canes and Tom Rosette took home another 10 or 15 canes. It is a good start to fulfilling Charles Ingal's folk wisdom by preserving some good from the loss of my dream.

Grandma Goat, Rest in Peace

2009-03-11T21:13:00.000-07:00

Monday evening I put the goats away in the goat pen for the night. Grandma goat came trotting in as usual when I poured the grain into the feeding pan. She seemed fine. San found her the next morning under the barn where she likes to sleep. I am happy to report she did not die at the hands of predators, as so many of our other goats have. She apparently died in her sleep.

Putting to rest a dream

2009-03-11T20:44:00.000-07:00

10 Years ago I convinced Sanford that we could earn income off the farm by growing raspberries. This was a key factor in winning my husband's cooperation in making the farm our home. My dad let us plow up the hay field in preparation of planting a U-pick raspberry patch. Sanford, Justin, Lynnea, and I planted 1000 raspberry starts in the muddy spring before we bought the farm in October of 2000. My dream of having a U-pick raspberry farm has been a thorny experiment ever since.

This past Saturday, we accepted the help of two high schoolers from Ashland First Baptist Church to remove the irrigation lines and fence stakes from the weedy remains of what was once my cherished raspberry patch. The hope of continuing this endeavor actually died two years ago during the time of my father's passing, but I had realized the year before that it had very little chance of surviving as long as I and Sanford both worked other jobs.

I have now accepted the passing away of this dream. Saturday was the burial, the putting to rest of that dream and the turning point to face what lies ahead for Sanford and me. Thank you, Sanford, for risking this experiment and giving me 9 years of living on this 11 acres of rock and thistle I call home. Thank you, Sanford, for trying to help me realize a dream and then helping me put it to rest.

The Tall Hay Barn

2009-03-02T19:14:00.000-08:00

This is good picture of the tall barn from the porch of the house. The floor of this barn is all log poles laid side by side with thick, rough cut planks on top. The walls of the barn are made of rough cut planks, thinner than the floor boards, with space between each to allow plenty of air to ventilate the hay. A metal hay clamp/tong still hangs from a track running the length of the barn on the inside of the roof's peak. Barn owls have raised a brood of chicks at the top of the barn for as far back as I can remember. We have more than once brought chicks who have fallen out of the nest to Wild Life Images for care.

Some of my fondest memories of summers on the farm is when we would bring the hay into the barn. The whole family worked together to load and unload the hay, sliding the bales along the smooth floor boards to the growing stack of hay. It made me feel important and capable to be given a hay hook and be expected to do my part to accomplish this task. Smelling the cured grass while the breeze cooled the sweat along my neck and I rocked back and forth on top of the hay bales loaded on the truck redeemed summer vacation for a girl who loved school.

One summer, after San and I came to live here, a young goat went under the barn and for some bizarre reason the goat decide to stick its head up into a crack between one of the floor logs. At dusk I heard it bleating as I put the other goats away for the night, but I couldn't find it. Finally, I located it by crawling underneath the barn. When I tried to free the goat, it yelled as if I was beating it to death. By then it was dark. I called Justin. He came and together, after several unsuccessful attempts to free the goat, we figured out the only way to free the goat was to tear the floor boards up, no small task. It took two tries to find the spot where the goat's head was. Even with the floor boards up we had to hammer a wedge between the logs to separate a space wide enough to release the horns and head of the goat. The floor still bears the wound from that ill fated act by a curious goat.

The John Deere Tractor

2009-03-01T21:20:00.001-08:00

This is the 1934 John Deere tractor my dad used all the days of his life on this farm. This is the tractor I remember driving from the old house to here. My dad showed me how to stop it, you just pulled the lever back, but he didn't show me how to slow it down. He remembers following me in the truck and watching me turn the tractor into the driveway. The tractor tipped sideways and I made the turn on two wheels. You start the engine by turning the fly wheel by hand. I remember it took many tries and occasionally my father's leather glove would get caught in the wheel. That is why it was always parked on the hill. It was easier to start by rolling it down hill with the lever pulled back and as soon as the engine spat out a couple of chug chug-a-lugs and putt putt-a-putts you push the lever forward to engage the gears.

The Milking Barn

2009-03-01T21:07:00.000-08:00

We called this the cow barn when I was a kid growing up because this is where my dad milked the cows. Today I call it the first barn because it is the first one you come come to when walking up from the house. I did milk the goats in the front section one summer. You can see how the gabled middle section is different from the rest of the barn. At one time, this part was a shed at the school house next door. When the school no longer had a use for it Mr. Kerby had it moved up the drive way to this location to be used as a barn. He then added on to it, making a cement floor in the front part for milking. I guess it should be called the milking barn.

Winter sunset

2009-02-17T20:14:00.000-08:00

Llamas on the loose.

2009-02-17T20:11:00.000-08:00

Friends of Bramble Creek Farm

2009-02-16T13:17:00.000-08:00

Former student and his mother,

my friend, Chloe, with Valentine Cakes.

It must be February

2009-02-15T13:34:00.000-08:00

You know it is February at Bramble Creek Farm

when flowers start to appear.

At the entrance to our home
is a bouquet of yellow and purple carnations,
a gift from my mother for my birthday.

You will know it is February when Lunette gets the urge

to bake heart shaped cookies.
These are from the Betty Crocker
"Cooky Book"
Lunette received from her mother in 1964.
The filling is from cherries Lunette pitted and canned
with her friend Chloe.

You know it's February when the violets bloom
in the yard around the house.

A single blue violet.

A single pink violet,

This February Sanford gave Lunette these beautiful roses,
to say I Love You, even after Lunette abandoned
him all day to help at a friend's wedding.
I love you, too, Sanford.

Lunette started growing African Violets while going to school
in Portland, Oregon,in 1974.
They always seem to do their best blooming
in February. It seems reasonable,
since the violet is February's flower.

These are some tiny buds from the primroses,
in a teeny, tiny vase Sanford found
as a cast away at the Manor.

There is snow in those clouds.
A sure sign of February is beautiful weather one day
and cold, snowy weather the next.

February always brings the promise of spring
to the heart weary of winter.
The tips of bulbs begin shooting
up through the ground.
These are some early miniature daffodils.

The last sure sign that it is February
is the bare branches of the poplar trees
waving in the wind.
Last night we listened to the howling wind
all night long. The forecast was for snow
but the wind drove it away.
Instead, we had blue sky.
Tonight, we'll have snow.

Snow Day

2009-02-13T11:43:00.000-08:00

Spring beauty in the snow.

Today was a snow day
for Ashland Public School,
that means, I didn't have to go to work so I decided to spend the gift of this day creating a journal for recording life on Bramble Creek Farm.
This in return is a gift to myself
and all those who love the memories of walking through the blackberries,
cedars, oaks and pines
that are nestled in the hollow of this
Wagner Creek valley.

Black Beauty
wants to know
where the hay is

There were six wild ducks on the pond this morning. They did not fly away when I walked around the pond. Maybe we will have baby mallards this spring. Maybe these are returning ducks from previous summers.

The two surviving farm ducks.