Summer Field

Summer Field, originally uploaded by crayargiros.

Summer Field

Summer Field, originally uploaded by crayargiros.

Import ‹ Backyard Living — WordPress

Import ‹ Backyard Living — WordPress: "/"

The Gas Pipeline

Mike Rachael Michael M-Day 2009 Hike (54), originally uploaded by crayargiros.

The new pipeline is in -- Right now it is a glaring gash in the landscape. Hopefully, as the vegetation regrows it will be less pronounced.

Rachael & Michael run through the trail behind the pond - Mother's Day

Rachael & Michael run through the trail behind the pond - Mother's Day, originally uploaded by crayargiros.

The exuberance of childhood!

Spring is quickly turning into summer - only 5 more weeks of school left for John, Rachael & Michael. Remember anticipating summer vacation? And how long the summer was when all you had to do was play on the swings, swim in the creek and ride your bike? I remember eagerly we anticipated the fire works on July 4th. Now, the 4th of July falls on the first weekend of summer. So maybe it isn't my imagination - summer really IS shorter than it used to be!

The chicks have arrived! I ordered 25 mixed breeds (Rainbow layers) from McMurray http://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/index.html. So far, we lost one to natural causes and two to an accident wtih a sword (don't ask!). I find myself mesmerized by their movements and sounds and can sit and watch them for long periods of time. The dogs reactions have been interesting too - Copper tries to move them from one side of the brooder to the other, and Pippin whines and tries to get my attention - he doesn't like it when I look at them.

Spring Yardwork: the woodpile John brings mulch to the garden while Cindy paints the chicken coop.

Daffodils - I've been trying to let them naturalize an entire section of the backyard. The deer don't eat them and it means less mowing for me.

The kids took Mike for a hike through the woods on Mother's Day - while I got the house to myself.

I've seen one or two bass in the pond, lots of tadpoles, frogs, and salamanders - even a snake, but no sign of last year's bullheads.

Poems and Purple flip flops

Spring has come to upstate NY - glorious in it's rain showers, emerging buds, green just bursting from everything and all the delicate spring flowers everywhere. Some day I will learn what they each are.

I saw a poem yesterday -- well, not exactly a poem as it wasn't written. It was a picture that should be a poem. Purple flip flops in the grass -- kicked off by the exuberant feet of my daughter as she soared into the blue May sky on a swing. She's almost 11 and the sight was so precious it hurt to watch. I was so aware of the dwindling time she will spend on that swing set. The one where we've spent so many hours - singing and swinging. I could almost hear the cadence of the poem that would go with that sight - can't you?

Another List

I have so many thoughts swirling through my head - ideas to blog about. Uh oh, that usually means another list is about to be created. Here goes:

Cancer: a virtual maelstrom of emotions erupts in my gut when I hear this word. I realize it's even harder for me to see it in print. Ergo - I'll talk about that later.

World War II: I've been listening to Jeff Shaara's The Rising Tide, a story about the North African Campaign and Italian Campaign. Although I majored in history in college, I did not take a lot of course work in WWII focusing mostly on early American history. In recent years I've developed a real passion for learning about it mostly due to my awareness that those with personal memories of the war are dying. Very recently I stumbled across the fact that my Great Uncle Ivan was among the first wave of marines to hit the beach at Guadalcanal. This inspired me to break out the old textbooks, do some research and learn more about the military tactics and individual battles.

The Flu: My 13 year old son is doing an extra credit book report for his social studies class. As I perused the material I had on hand I came across a young reader's story about the Influenza Pandemic of 1919. Another fascinating topic for the historian in me . . . I did my seminar paper in college on the topic. I have really enjoyed the conversations this book has sparked for my family. Making connections for them - their Great Great Grandmother died of the flu in 1920 when she was 19 years old. Her son, my grandfather, was only 18 months old.

Gardening: I started plants (peppers, tomatoes, herbs) from seed for the first time. This year will be my first ever attempt at "putting up" my own store of vegetables. I find myself fascinated by the tiny sprouts beginning to appear and can't wait to see what happens next.

Poetry: I'm itching to make time to read it again - my favorite: Emily Dickinson.

Life is good.

Time for the Little Things

Today I took the time to untangle my daughter's necklace (her souvenir of our trip to South Dakota last summer). This is why I chose to become a stay-home mom. Oh, there are lots of other reasons too, but I think this pretty much sums it up. When I was working, there never seemed to be time to get to those types of things. They got put aside to do "when I have time." Today, there was time. I can't wait to see her face when she comes home from school.

Call it Fate - Call it Synchronicity

My mother calls it synchronicity - you know, when things happen that just seem like they are supposed to go together yet are totally random. Some people call it coincidence, some call it fate.

I have been reading a book Broken Open. I found it by chance while I was shopping in Sam's Club. I wasn't even really looking at the books, just taking a short cut to the checkout line when the title seemed to jump off the shelf at me. I read the back of the book and thought - I am supposed to read this book.

The chapters start with quotes - often from the author's favorite poets. One she quotes quite often - Rumi. I never heard of this person prior to reading this book but found myself drawn to his poetry. Last week, I was in the book store with my family - getting ready to check out and I dropped a piece of paper. When I bent to pick it up I realized it had landed on one of those bargain books - and it was by Rumi Hidden Music. Call it fate, call it coincidence, call it synchronicity . . . I bought the book. I love the poetry and it is sure to be the subject of future posts.