Oh, my… such a beautiful day- sunny and warm. Junebug was here visiting before her trip back to Florida. The kiddos were home working on their schoolwork. I was busy in the kitchen making carnitas for dinner. We all heard the strange, distinct sound of a propane burner in the distance.

The hot air balloon on the horizon was a welcome sight for those of us needing inspiration, distraction or reason to procrastinate. Once we realized that it was landing in the backyard, there was much squealing, dog barking, rooster crowing and horses running around the pasture with their tails straight up in the air, snorting mightily at the colorful, heavenly apparition.

It really was quite surreal. I’ve only seen them from a distance. We received the customary bottle of champagne from the balloon pilot- a 200 year old French tradition. We were happy to oblige.

If you are in the Finger Lakes call Dave Longeill (315-252-2495) for a trip. He takes off from Skaneateles Airport. This landing was something like his 1,820th landing! I’m thinking if I were going on a balloon ride LOTS of experience for a pilot would pretty attractive. That being said, if you land here at the farm you’d better be sporting a bottle of bubbly.

Hopefully I will be able to ride North sometime this month… after he calms down. He was pretty excited about the whole affair.

Junebug is thinking a hot air balloon ride would be a great birthday present. Note to self… : )

As it turns out, having chickens is BETTER than I imagined- and we don’t even have eggs yet! Have you ever seen a chicken chase a butterfly, “ride” a bicycle or sneak up on a sleeping dog? They are so funny, curious and all henny-pennyish.

From their cardboard box brooder to their fancy Amish-made coop they have grown and flourished! Whew.

There is something so relaxing and pastoral about seeing them out pecking about, perhaps like watching a lazy cat napping in a sunbeam. It makes me stop, hesitate and acknowledge the simple beauty of daily life.

They are officially free range…. and super nosey. If there is an open door they will go through it and we are concerned that they may be conspiring to get into the house.

Although we purchased electric mesh poultry fencing, we never electrified it. (I wasn’t quite sure if we were keeping the chickens in or the predators out with the electric fencing.) When they were little they wiggled through the square mesh. Now they are too plump to get through even with a running start. Thankfully we haven’t seen any predators during the day and the coop is built like Fort Knox so I rest easy at night. The girls head right up the ramp by dusk and I play them like a harp (with petting) when they are sitting with their backs to me on their roost. It’s funny and bizarre and (confession) I can’t keep my hands off of them.

We have a lovely variety.

Stormy– The Polish Hen. Her plume has grown so big that she can’t see a thing and is always getting left behind. She’s reminds us all of Cher in one of her Bob Mackie get ups.

Then there is Dawn Stripe– a Speckled Sussex- brave, yet friendly.

Lucille– the Rhode Island Red- friendly, curious. She likes to peck at my rings and bracelets.

Noodles– Ameraucana- a beautiful bird! Prettier every day. She lays Easter eggs… blue and green. Oh joy.

Philomena– Plymouth Barred Rock. Love her. She is the biggest, fluffiest and the most curious. She always is the first to come over and say hello and she loves to be hand fed clover.

Photo to come…

Last but not least is Countess Cluck– a Silkie. She is the runt of the group and squirts through the fence with the greatest of ease. She is still a little puff ball compared to the others.

Those presumptuous birds think that the potager was planted just for them. They speed up and down the garden paths, rarely vearing into planted beds- much to my relief. While sitting on the garden bench, they quietly coo and preen like ladies gossiping at lunch. Can you tell that I find them enchanting? If they had started pecking my tomatoes however, the spell… would be broken.

We are saving our egg cartons for the big day! Soon the nesting boxes will be open for business. Maybe we will even sell eggs in our new CRAZY wonderful gypsy farmstand!! Did you see how that got started??? Putting the finishing touches on it soon to be put away for the winter. Next Spring say hello to the HEDGES & HARES farm stand on Old Seneca Turnpike!

For showing him this video….

Then he got all soft towards getting chickens. (Actually, I suspect he may have started to thaw last year when he saw an excited 6 year old leaving our local farm supply store with her daddy and a cardboard 6-pack of chicks.)

That’s how it all started this Spring… only 5 years in the making.

Note to self… never take an excited 9 year old to a hatchery to “look” at chicks with the possibility of buying. I was so swept up in the moment that we were picking out breeds like ice cream toppings at Baskin Robbins. Our little flock of 6 is a motley crew. We even have a rocker named Stormy who reminds me alot of Cher in one of her Bob Mackie ensembles!

On the way home from Nature Berry Farm (a hatchery outside of Rochester) I had a mild breakdown… you know the kind. OMG what have I done??? There are peeping animals in the backseat and this is going to change our lives forever. We are now (gasp) “chicken-owners” and they didn’t give me any kind of manual or pamphlet of 12 steps to great egg-laying chickens, or even a chicken coloring book for that matter! Heaven help us… what do I know about raising chickens?

I’ve never been around birds all that much except enjoying them at the bird feeder. We once cared for a friend’s cockatill that always asked “can I come out?”.

That being said I do recall sitting perfectly still beneath a gumball tree in MS. for countless hours in a lawn chair with bread sprinkled all around me as well as piled up in my hands. There were birds everywhere. Now that I think about it… I was Crazy Bird Girl. I think I remember being asked to play football and declining because I had “better things to do” like sit in a lawn chair beneath a tree perfectly still for hours. What were my parents thinking? What were the neighbors thinking? What exactly was I thinking?

And then there was the time I was sitting peacefully on a chaise lounge on my grandmother’s porch petting a cat when a bird flew across the lawn and landed on my shoulder. Before I could register that a bird flew across the lawn and landed on my shoulder the cat jumped up, grabbed the bird and ran off with it. What!? Huh?! Seriously?! But, but, but… what just happened?! Sigh.

There you go. Serendipity or something.

On a side note… It’s been a challenge trying to blog about all that has been going on around here this summer! It’s too much! My kind husband/editor gave me some insight and I will soon release a barrage of post that have been nicely broken up and organized.

So stay tuned for the full story. You have to meet all of the girls and hear about the wagon adventure.  : )

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A beautiful day for a ride at lunchtime! Queenie the Pony is a surefooted, sassy pony. Yesterday we rode to the hounds… Oliver and Gracie, that is. Good for the mind and even better for the soul.

There was significant water play and creek-crossing practice. Sorry for the tilt-a-world… it’s not easy trying to take pictures on the back of a fidgety pony.

Heading home.

Do you hear that faint peeping sound? It’s coming from my garage!!!

This is what is coming from the garden. : )

It’s been a busy Spring here at the farm. More to come from Countess Cluck (shown above) and her little chickie friends.

My garden and I have done an awkward dance all summer long. Never on the same beat… our tempo completely off. A spastic horticultural tango if you will.

And then this past weekend… I finally had the time, energy and proper shoes that brought us together like the partners that we are. I spun from bed to bed in my red farm coat as the wind blew mightily. Probably a good thing we don’t have neighbors within eyeshot.

Earlier this summer I decided to exhibit at the Devon Horse Show and Country Fair in Devon, PA. Normally at that time I would be caught up with orders from the Flower Show, excited about spring, winter sowing and getting ready to plant. This year I was in full production mode for my business and then away for a two week duration.  So much happens on a farm, with children, and animals in two weeks. My “away” time limit was reached and I learned that it was too much at this point, at this time in our lives. I never got caught up… all summer long I was one, or two or three steps behind- in so many areas. My garden went in late… some things didn’t go in at all. Then the rains came. Seedings were washed away while the organic weeds that I cultivate so beautifully grew and grew.

My focus never zeroed-in out there. I was away dancing with other loves like children, family, friends and art. I even flirted with running and taking better care of myself. Gasp! Every now and then the sprinkler was turned on when I could remember.

So Saturday I had the opportunity to stand back and appreciate what happens when I’m not paying attention… when I am not in control, when someone else is leading.

# # # # Newsflash # # # #

It still grows and it produces what its supposed to. Even with my full dance card this summer my partner kept up the beet. (snicker). We could easily have scored a 30 on Dancing with Your Vegetables that blustery afternoon, in my opinion.

A little olive oil, salt and pepper then into the oven… carrots, onions, blue and red potatoes. Delicious.

Wishing you and your family a safe and happy Independence Day!!

Ahhhh. Finally. 1st day of Summer vacation for the kids.

Mandatory sleeping in and pajamas until noon. Cinnamon toast with my sous chef Lala and cherry picking in the garden!!! Farmboy is getting a sour cherry pie very soon. Don’t tell. Doesn’t get much better.

I had a huge order to ship this afternoon. It went out.

Balance.

Somedays it is tangible- other days elusive. Today I touched it and it was beautiful.

The day ended with climbing on hay bales in the night pasture.

Happy Summertime… wishing you some beautiful balance!

Junebug and I taking Paley and North for a ride.

I finally got back in the saddle… because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t.

The last time I lost a horse I was a freshman in college and I didn’t ride again for 10 years. It was too emotional and I was used to loving and having a relationship with the knowing beast that carried me around.

I got back in the saddle- on my gelding North who seems lost and displaced since we said good-bye to my mare Paley. She’s been a dear friend to me for the past 18 yrs.

I haven’t been blogging because I have been grieving with the knowledge of having to let her go (and then adjusting to “after”). I felt an undercurrent of sadness that rose to the immediacy of calling the vet to come as soon as he could.

Family life, farm life… it’s what I write about. It IS my life here as an artist. But I couldn’t talk about what was happening. I couldn’t give my name to the receptionist at the vet on the phone. I couldn’t trust myself to speak when the vet came to the farm. Farmboy had to be there all the time. I didn’t know if I would sob, be silent or speak.

So. On a cold and windy Thursday in Dec. we said good-bye… Farmboy, my sister-in-law, me, the vet and North. It was both beautiful and heart-breaking.

One day I will write about that experience, what my vet insisted on to allow my gelding to say goodbye and how it changed what was happening. He was wise and right and I am thankful for his years and insight. The picture in my mind haunts me and reminds me of something that I always considered as one of the sweetest and saddest things I’ve ever seen.

Paley and North saying hello for the first time. He was very malnourished- only off the track a couple of days.

I got back in the saddle to help North find a different purpose than being her companion and to help me connect because he and the pony Queenie have been second string- the supporting cast.  She was my priority. I feel like I could walk away from riding right now. My spark is gone. She was my etch-a-sketch. When we went out, I came back shaken up… erased. Fresh and new… mentally and physically. My step was lighter and I could conquer much.

I got back in the saddle. It’s a start, right?

The day we bought Paley.

Our first ride in the hunt field with Cherry Valley Hunt.