Down at the Daylily Farm

Seriously, if you asked me even 5 years ago if there was such a thing as a daylily farm, I would have laughed out loud at you.  A daylily farm?  You've got to be kidding me.

But there is such a thing.  And what's more - I actually went there.

It's over in Connecticut, down by the Housatonic River, nestled in between the mountains.  You take the highway, to the state route, to the county route, to a street, to a road, to a dirt road with little hand-painted signs that tell you to make sure you stay on the road because there's a nasty 4-foot drop on either side that would split your car in 2 should you choose to pull over.  That was a joy to drive down in my big pickup truck - I thought I would have a stroke!

But once you get there, oh so pretty.  The road opens up and you realize that you're in the valley - and the only thing there is the daylily farm.

They have the most adorable little shop.  Natural cedar building with a wood stove.  Inside it was painted a creamy white and hand-oiled wood accents for the shelves.  Potatoes, squashes and garlic were mounded in hand-made baskets.  Watercolors of the dayliles graced the walls.  (Yes, I said "graced" - because they were so delicate and gentle in their art.)

None of the daylilies are in bloom now, but can you imagine this filled with flowers?  I could.

We ordered the fans (that's how they come - in fans) a few weeks ago, so they were all dug up and boxed, ready to be picked up.  These ones are for the Garden Club to give away, unfortunately, not for my gardens.  So I chatted a bit with the farmer (daylily farmer - heh heh heh!) and thanked him for getting up with the sun so I could pick up the fans.

Then I made my way back down that dirt road at a whopping 3 m.p.h. and headed home.  Snails crawl faster.

Alpacas on the Farm

Since it's National Alpaca Farm Days this weekend - you've been waiting for it too?  I know, right? - I'm off to visit a local alpaca "hobby" farm.

The main difference between a farm and a "hobby" farm is that on a hobby farm, the animals aren't paying their way - nor are they making a little extra for the farmer to live off of.  They're fun, but not necessary to the financial success of the farm.  Or as my country friends say - they are for city folks who like to play farmer on the weekend.

All of that aside, the owners of this farm are really getting into the spirit of boutique farming.  They have a small herd of alpaca who are in excellent health, sweet demeanor and (mot importantly for my knitting habit) have the softest wool ever.

The boys were down in the lower pasture.  They're not very outgoing - even towards each other.  But oh so gorgeous!  They were shorn this past Spring, so their fleeces are still growing in, but they should be ready for winter in a month or so.

The ladies in the upper pasture were much more friendly to humans.  Curious and alert to sudden movements, but not standoffish at all.

The owner took me into the pasture so I could meet the girls up close.  I got to feed them some grain (lucky day for them - extra grain!) and they came right up to my hand and ate it.  After my experience with feeding carrots to the horses a few weeks ago, I was a little nervous about the alpaca, but they pick up the grain with their lips - no teeth involved.  All was good and they were oh so gentle.

I thought this young lady and I made a real connection.  I fed her a lot of grain, she let me pet her neck a little and give a scratch to her head.  I could feel a real kinship developing.

Then she got startled by a bird screeching and spit all over me.

I think I'll stick to knitting with the alpaca yarn and leave the raising of alpacas to the farmers.  It's the way to go.

Mooooooonday

I couldn't help but stop for a minute to just enjoy watching this herd of cows grazing in the field.  So calm and peaceful.  Quite the opposite of my Monday.

Ahhh - I am relaxed already.

Ole Barn

This old barn sits on the side of the road.  It's close to the field.  It's close to the cows.  But it is empty.  Past its' usefulness.

Somedays I think it's a sad old barn.  Unused.  Unwanted.  The farmer is probably just waiting for it to finally fall in like the barn next to it did.

Other days, I think it's pretty happy and satisfied with the life it's led.  Obviously well used.  The tracks going up to the doors are deep furrows.  Quite a few carts of hay and such must have passed in and out of its' doors over the years.

Today, it just reminds me of time.  Time past.  Time spent.

And then I ask myself - which barn do I want to be when I'm that old?

Today I think I'd like to be the happy barn.

That being said - I think I'll get off of the computer and spend some time with my DH and my pup.  If it weren't for him, I wouldn't live in the country.  If it weren't for living in the country, we would have our dear pup.

And after all - that's what life is all about, right?

Arabian Days

Today my DH and I went to visit the Arabian horse breeding farm.  It was a real treat for us to spend some time admiring the horses.  The best part was when they were given liberty in the ring and they raced around.  They were so quick, yet it seemed as though they were floating across the ring - effortless.

We spent some time outside in the paddocks getting to know the horses.  They were so friendly and gentle.  My DH went right up to them and gave them a pet.  I stood back a bit...

Mostly they were interested in getting some carrots from us.  Unfortunately they were disappointed since we weren't carrying their favorite treat.

Even a full fence-line of equine beauty couldn't magically make a carrot appear.  They liked us anyway.  I think this was more due to my DH's horse sense than my staring at them in awe.

Inside the main barn, the trainers were putting all of the horses through their paces.  And the horses put the trainers through their paces as well!  One young lady decided that there was no way she was going to go back to her stall.  After coaxing her, shaking plastic bags at her and attempting to bribe her with carrots, the trainer decided to just let her have some fun in the ring.  Once he decided that, she decided she was ready to go.  I know a pup like that...

These animals move fast and can turn on a dime.  When they are still young, they don't put saddles or carts on them yet.  And the Arabian's take a bit longer to mature than some of the other breeds of horses.  It's really a huge investment of time (and money) to raise them.

The foals are just trusting enough to wear their little training bridles, but they pay more attention to their mom than to the trainers.

It was so neat to see them racing across the ring in tandem.  Shadowing their mother's every move - always staying on the inside away from the onlookers.  So quick and confident.

Make no mistake about it, these are very well cared for horses.  Everyone from the owners to the stable men really are just so genuinely kind and attentive to these lovely beasts.

For the first few years, the foals are brushed and encouraged daily.  Rubdowns and pedicures keep them relaxed.  Lots of room to run.  Lots of other horses to hang out with.  Their training is slow and gentle - just at the pace that each individual horse needs so that they understand what their job is.  They even give the horse a chance to shine in each type of job that they are suited for - English, Western, driving, etc. - then they work with the horse to get the perfect fit.

You may have guessed that I'm not that familiar with all of the horse jargon.  I rode when I was a little girl, but since then I haven't had much opportunity to hang with the horses.  (My DH is much more of a horse person than I am.)

I can't help it, but I am a little - not so much afraid of, more like very respectful of them.  Okay, maybe a little afraid.  They are 3,000 pounds of muscle.  They stand about 3-feet taller than me.  Their hooves are sharp and reinforced with steel.  I even saw one of them sharpening her teeth on the bars of her stall.  They can nip off your finger as easier as they nip a carrot out of your hand.  Sure, I might be a little cautious around horses.

So why would I spend the afternoon with horses and horse people?  Simple.

This is where we get the composted mulch for our gardens.  These horses have their stable bedding replaced on a daily basis - and that makes for a nice rich composted mulch.  It's what we feed our flowers and naturally, I wanted to see what the horses were fed and how they were cared for.

I was so happy to learn that they are in a good, loving environment.  Their food is locally sourced and it is all organic - along with the bedding.  It definitely makes me feel good about using their composted mulch in my gardens.

And they are so beautiful.

Side Streets

City

Country

I was asked to show at an art gallery in Chelsea in a couple of months.  I haven't decided exactly what to do, but I've been toying with the idea of contrasting definitions of words.

If I say to someone in the city "side street", they're going to think something totally different than if I say the same thing to someone in the country.  Since I inhabit both places, I find it odd sometimes.

In the city a side street is a quick shortcut that will get you ahead in traffic faster, but it's usually not very clean, generally has a lot of pot holes and I've also noticed that the only reason the side streets in the city seem to exist is because no one has figured out how to build on them yet.

In the country, a side street may take the shorter route in miles, but it usually gets you there much slower, generally unpaved and possibly doesn't actually connect with where you thought you would end up at all.  And the only reason it seems to exist is because someone wanted a road there, so they just started driving that way one day - and eventually the grass turned into a path and then a road.

Country side streets remind me of the shortcut my DH and I took once when we were in the U.P.  We wanted to cut across to get to a highway faster, so we took a side street - having been assured by a local that it would get us where we wanted to go.  

We drove down for awhile, the road sort of became a path through the woods, the street signs were replaced with paper plates (I kid you not) and eventually it stopped at a sign which said - boats only beyond this point.  Probably good advice, because beyond that point was Lake Superior.

What the local had neglected to mention was that it was a road only in the winter when the lake was frozen enough for cars to drive on it.  Since winter in the U.P. lasts a pretty long time, the road was only out for about 12 or so weeks of the year.  

Odd that the road was out due to lack of snow rather than because of snow.

The paper plates, we later found out, were what the snowmobilers used to mark the road.

There was this whole section of the U.P. that didn't have any roads.  At all.  

'Nuff said.

Hump Day

Wednesdays have always been the longest day of the week for me.  Sunday seems like it was forever ago - and Friday night is impossibly far away.

But since it is my week/month, I decided to do something about this blah feeling today.  I took the back road home just so I could enjoy this particular view of the corn fields in the valley.

The thing I love about these fields is that they are so open - no "Children of the Corn" horror movie here.  Just a nice field covered with thousands of stalks of my favorite veggies.

Maybe I can get some at the farmer's market in a few weeks!