New Life Old Farmers

If you help harvest honey you will get sticky.

You might have the bees follow you to the back door, just waiting for you to come out again. Demanding their honey back. (I did not, go out again.) You will also have most surfaces and handles in your kitchen become sticky.

My Loving Spouse’s two hives produced roughly 8 gallons of honey. Sweet, sweet stuff.

The Honey stand sells on the honor system, because that’s how it’s done here. I think the bunting gives it a festive air.

Life is sweet and I am blessed.

Last year after the accident, I didn’t know how much better I would get. I am grateful that I can do most things. However, the reality is I cannot do them for as long or as well. It is what it is. I finally faced this truth over the weekend and have sold my beloved Agnes to a dear friend, who will feed her bananas and spoil her. To say it makes me sad would be an understatement.

I might love cows best. The reality is I LOVE my dog, but I seldom love anyone else’s dog. Cows on the on the other hand are just…grand.

Even with them gone, I will be blessed.

I took a very large suitcase when we went to England. After all, I had a wedding quilt to pack. The Groom was ‘in on’ the gift having provided the Bride’s color preferences. Pastel and white.

I believed the Bride would like something simple, but pretty. I started shopping for fabric and creating ideas. My original fabric purchase was gorgeous.

Although this is beautiful fabric…it just wasn’t ‘right’ for this project. Not pastel-ly enough…too orange (coral) and grey. I put all my pieces away for another ‘someday’ project.

The good thing about living where we do is that although there are not any large fabric stores, there are some fabulous small fabric stores. I set off for Cle Elum to Ruby’s. There are only two people who work at Ruby’s, Ruby and The One That’s Not Ruby. The One That’s Not Ruby spent an hour scouring the bolts with me to find the right amount of pastel fabric that would fit my vision.

…and so I began The Wedding Quilt again. A nine patch made with two inch squares.

My design wall is an invaluable tool for me, holding the fabric up where I want it as my plan comes together.

There was one more trip to Ruby’s. I needed a smidge more green stripe fabric for the binding. We (the One That’s Not Ruby) and I spent another little while scanning the bolts. They’d just moved everything around. We couldn’t find it. The One That’s Not Ruby took my number as she thought she might have just a smidge of it at home. She’d look that night and meet me in the morning if it was so. (Just the kind of customer service that comes with living in the country).

I am learning more on Bess, my long arm. I did a swirl design along the edge and then circles in the body of the quilt. The scary part of trying new quilting designs is simply that you don’t want to mess up all your hard work at this ending point in the process.

Unfortunately, cell phones do not do the quilt colors justice. The quilt came out just right and the Bride was stunned, so I am blessed.

I was back at Ruby’s looking for animal fabric last week. The One That’s Not Ruby wanted to see the final pictures and asked about the trip across the pond. So I filled her in on the whole story, including the part where we found out the day before we left, that Cousin Mike’s Wife (my new UK-BFF) was having a birthday while we were together.

“Do you have a table runner or something?” My Loving Spouse asked.

‘Hmmm, no, but I think I could come up with something’. Remember those pieces for a ‘someday’ project?

I needed a bit more of the coral, which My Loving Spouse went off to buy. (I couldn’t go, as I had a date to go wine tasting with Number Two Son and because well, ….priorities.)

I really like the wider border we chose to make the creating of it a tad faster. I plan to make more like this in the future.

I told my UK-BFF she could re-gift it, if it wasn’t her ‘thing’, as I didn’t know what ‘her thing would be before we came.’ She said, “Are you kidding!” Gave me a hug and a kiss and stated “I LOVE it!”

and believe me….I am blessed.

I will never make it as a travel blogger. I will, however, attempt my own sort of English trip family visit recap. (Absent any of the blow by blow driving terrors with My Loving Spouse driving a manual (stick shift) French car, (clearly it was the French’s fault) from the right side of the car on the left side of the road.

Our view from our window at Cousin Mike’s. Farningdon, Uk, even with jet lag you know you’re in England. Cousin Mike calls his wife ‘My Darling’, which I found rather endearing. (I began noticing how many people use these words. Even the woman at baggage claim sounded lovely as she was trying to get me out of her way in order to retrieve her luggage. Excuse me, just doesn’t have the same ring.)

Cousin Mike’s wife and I hit it right off. There was a general consensus that we two could get into a lot of trouble, if we actually lived in the same continent. I’d greatly looked forward to some of the shops in Farningdon and felt it was fairly rude that this one was closed both days we were there. Perhaps it was all for the best.

Beautiful old stone buildings in the Cotswolds

always capture a place in my heart. They’re not ‘made to look old’ as so often is the case in the US, they are old….and so lovely.

My happiest place on the trip family visit was Yew Tree Farm B&B. I think Heaven will be a farm….

Upon arriving we had a cup of tea and then took off on a walk with directions provided from our hostess. They were speaking my ‘love language’ when it said, climb the stile and walk through the cows field.

We carried on to the lake, stopping to take pictures of every beautiful 5 plank gate we passed.

The lake…

More gates…the epitome of ‘form and function’.

Even the British farmers rely on a bit of blue ‘chain’ (baling twine).

I carry on down to the locks. A visual treat that filled my soul.

I hurry back to the B&B as we’ve more cousins to meet for dinner….

the view out our bedroom window

and we are blessed.

I have not been blessed with the ‘fashion’ gene. I have been known to ‘shop the mannequin’. I’d see how it was put together and buy the complete outfit (the sales people loved that about me). It doesn’t really work here. They sell jeans at the hardware store, but there are no mannequins. If there were, they’d probably be wearing overalls.

Our impending trip to England inspired me to step up my game, as I had 3 types of jeans- too small, too big and too ‘farm-y’. It was time to do some research and learn fashion stuff.

Time to dress this farmer, without the mustache or chest hair. (Seriously cute and I want to give Mr. Lapin all the credit.)

Where do I begin?

Pinterest, of course. You’d be amazed what you can learn when you type in these two little words…’travel wardrobe’.

How could I not be drawn into a post called “A Capsule Wardrobe for the ‘Mature’ Traveler“. That’s it! I’m a traveler, I need a wardrobe and I’m often mature. The bonus was that this was simple. Lots of clothing choices don’t work for me. I can go into a large department store with all the options and come home with one plaid shirt, whose sleeves are not long enough. I wear it 3 times and give it to my BFF.

This was just the beginning. I knew I could buy the stuff and still screw it up.

More Pinterest.

More info, research to figure out how to wear stuff. Or as the website says, “Putting Me Together”. After all, once I know the secret fashion rules, I can follow them, right…right, until they change them again.

I got easily overwhelmed and I wasn’t even shopping yet.

My Loving Spouse says ‘Mutton Dressed as Lamb’ whenever we see an older gal dressed like a teen. I sought out a lot of info that was NOT for teens.

I’ll never be a big shopper, because I’d rather mow the lawn. I do think I’ll be ready for this trip. Who says I can’t be taught. I even bought bell bottoms (white on sale). It was like an out of body experience! I immediately called my sister, who does have the fashion gene, to bring me back to reality.

No one is going to recognize me when I go back to school, except I am the only tall, old person who works there…

I have learned that running shoes make me look like I should be running (which is bad for your knees). I may never be the ‘size’ I want to be, so I should dress for the size I am.

Nerd alert, I’ve even made myself a packing spread sheet and bought packing cubes, which I learned all about on Pinterest, of course.

I’m feeling much more confident about what I’m packing for the trip, as opposed to standing at my closet with my eyes glazing over.

England here we come.

We love the couple getting married….

and we’re going to see Sheep Dog Trials! Oh, be still my heart…

and I am blessed.

My Loving Spouse and I agree. This has been the best summer ever. It could be because we haven’t broken anything or anyone. It could also be because the ‘demo’ is done. (A moment of silence please).

Not to mislead you, the work is not all done. We still have lots to finish, but the list is getting shorter all the time. There’s plenty of regular farm work to do, to say nothing of all the damn darn bags of fleece.

One of us (My Loving Spouse) kept forgetting that the reason no one had visited us in years was because of…excuse me, COVID. Gratefully, the Seattle cousins have repaired this situation.

Offer this group fun games, “fun” work

and cheap ice cream and let me tell you, they are there! Bringing fun, laughter and unique finds that need a home at the farm.

Our other recent visitors came for a morning of Farm School.

‘Farm School’ you ask. Farm school for two of our favorite Blog Readers, Big Jim and Critter Carole. Who are coming to spend 10 days at Glory Farm. They’ll scoop the poop, water the weeds, feed the animals, play with the dog and most importantly, enjoy life on the farm.

Glory Farm will be in capable hands as we zip across The Pond to celebrate a very special wedding. My Loving Spouse’s oldest friend and his soon to be Better Half….

and we are very, very blessed.

With summer in full swing our Hip Camp site “Pasture View” has had a steady stream of guests.

I am delighted to report that our campers have been fun to share the farm with. No matter their age, they seem interested in the animals, their names and their stories.

I’m always a bit surprised at this, but I guess if they had wanted the Ritz Carlton, they wouldn’t have shown up at a farm in an RV.

On the 4th of July our guests selected our location, as we back up to the Palouse to Cascade Trail. They are riding bikes on the trail as part of their year-long adventure of biking across America.

Being the 4th of July and this being the country, our neighbors had invited us down for a fireworks show over their pond.

This being the country, we invited our bike riding guests to join us for the show. We all jumped (some of us ‘carefully clamored’) into the bed of Whoa Nelly, for the drive down the road.

We parked Whoa Nelly and set up our chairs for the action. I knew we were there for the fireworks, but it didn’t keep me from literally jumping out of my seat as they lit up. What can I say, I startle easily.

The neighbor fireworks were the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Partly because it can only happen in a small country town, partly because my neighbors were so excited to put it on and especially because we got to share it with our Bike Riders.

Sharing Glory Farm with our guests is sharing what we love best about being here.

Sometimes you can just see the stress roll off of our traveling guests, as we did with Jean’s Dad.

…and we are blessed.

School is over and to be honest, it was something of a long slog to the finish.

One hour after school got out ‘they‘ (Our Little Miss and her entourage) showed up. We couldn’t have started the summer holiday in a nicer way.

The birthday blocks were a great hit, as were the colorful bags I’d sewn to store them.

Bags with the emphasis on the ‘s’.

Bag #1 was too big. It’s use was deemed to be a ‘picnic’ bag.

Obviously bag #2 was a tad too small.

Bag #3 was just right!

A house full of people you love is an excellent antidote to a tough year.

Every time we asked Our Little Miss, ” Where’s Uncle R?”

She pointed to the ceiling fan. He’s tall, but he’s not that tall.

I made the family classic ‘Covered Wagon’ cake, which made a lot of my people happy.

The plate is the one my mother always used to serve it… only the beggars during construction have changed.

Our Little M was not quite sure.

But she quickly came around.

The wind blew for the whole visit, but that didn’t keep us from playing croquet or the kids making me laugh so hard, that I was crying.

It was the best Father’s Day ever…

(Number 5 Son in the middle has grown so tall we made him kneel).

A precious time and picture.

And we are very, very blessed.

Number Two Son borrowed my car to visit Number One Son, so I drove Whoa Nelly to school.

I love country living where a ’52 International truck creates a delightful ‘ruckus’ in parking lots.

Another country living site is the beef jerky vending machine, which always makes me laugh out loud. (For the record this is high quality stuff from the butcher in the next town).

Glory Farm was recently full of cousins. Sharing life together in times of healing and planning the next steps in life is the greatest gift we can offer. (I just wish one of them would have told me we were wearing plaid.)

The Prom is ‘over’. Justin is a happy bull, but it is time for him to go to the Prom up the hill.

Then there are our free range chickens…. the time and tricks I’ve used to try and keep them out of my flower garden are immeasurable.

A few of the things that do not work…small fencing, water, screaming at them (well, this works for a little while) just to name a few. With 4 acres to roam, they pick the one place we don’t want them. Until now..

I was encouraged to try it as the fine print says it repels birds and crows, hmmm, that made me shake my head a bit. It smells like garlic, so we’re currently free of vampires as well and our personal favorite (read the fine print) armadillos.

Yes, we are blessed.

We’ve got fleece, not fleeced, but….

The boys were recently sheered. (I’m always so embarrassed for them after the fact.)

To add insult to injury their faces did not get the clean up they really require. How well they can see is a mystery. We’ve ordered clippers to give them a ‘fresh look’, but as we’re the ones who will be welding the clippers it is anyone’s guess how ‘fresh’ it will be.

We were past due to deal with last year’s fleece. We had been told an easy way to clean it. So I got busy.

I dump it out on an old sheet because we know it will be dirty. Alpacas roll in the dirt for their hygiene. The fleece quickly expands.

The more I try picking out each little stick and burr, I begin to question the whole…”it’ll be easy”. However, I trudge on, getting a very small pile picked sort of cleaner.

It floats easily so I move it to a bucket to soak out the first of 4 cleanings.

We start to wonder (down right question) the whole “it’ll be easy” instructions. Dual laptops begin watching every You Tube video about washing alpaca fleece we can find. We’re experiential learners, in other words we learn by trial and error with a heavy emphasis on ‘error’.

I move into the family room to continue ‘skirting’ (official fleece word for getting the crap bits out of the fleece) while watching more You Tube videos.

My Loving Spouse heads to Freddy’s to pick up the much needed bags prior to putting the first bit of skirted fleece in the washer for a spin dry. As I pull the fleece apart you can see the dirt fall out.

We spin the fleece dry and lay it out by the fire on top of an old screen.

We’ve only cleaned about 1/6th of the first bag, unbeknownst to My Loving Spouse.

‘Why did you empty all the fleece at the same time?’, he asked.

“I didn’t”, I explained. “This is just one bag.”

‘Oh…how many more bags are there…?’

“Eight.”

‘Ohhhhh…..’

We’ll be hosting a fleece skirting, bit picking party soon…you’re all invited.

There will be adult beverages, I promise

and we’ll all be blessed.