The January slog continues.......

Kirby has taken to walking out the door and squatting on the patio, first thing in the morning.  He can't even lift his leg, the wind has been so stiff.  Squat and don't take in any cold air, retreat! Morning aerobics done, feed me! 

Not so fast,  let's walk out and check on the chickens, Kirby grumbles all the way to the coop.  I toss a bit of snow on him and it's game on.  He really does love this weather!  Me, not so much but life is more fun with a dog.  

Breakfast is served buddy.  

My phone records that I have walked 946 steps, only 9,054 more to go.  Not happening! 

Until Bird Buddy, the smart bird feeder with a camera, sends me a postcard.  

YOU HAVE A VISTOR! or IT'S RUSH HOUR AT THE FEEDER! 

  

Remember when email made its debut; Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan were teenagers.  Remember that little bell on your computer;  The icon; "You've got mail" popped on your screen?!  And we salivated over each pop up, until we wised up and turned that button off!  Bird Buddy has tapped into that same pavlovian brain wave.  This is akin to crack for birdwatchers.  How can you not look?  Talk about clickbait!  Who has visited the feeder at this ungodly, barely light breaking hour? 

Always, before the sun is up in the sky, this guy sends me a postcard, every morning.  Who needs a rooster.  The female cardinal is next, she likes to sleep in.  

and the parade begins..... finches, titmice, juncos, blue jays, song sparrows, woodpeckers, a flicker

I can check with livestream from my phone.  Bird buddy tells me it's waking up. 

and then this...... 

Excuse me, did you know you're out of feed?  Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies? 

Or I just get a squirrel butt. 

And then I leap from my chair!  I can be doing anything and I can launch myself out the back door faster than a woodchuck hitting the electric fence and yelling like a crazy person.  One squirrel can empty out this small feeder in one sitting.  The juncos and doves, ground feeders, are at the base of the feeder having a party because squirrels are just tree pigs!  On my mad dash to the feeder I step on pile of frozen, snow covered dog poop and go down like....... a woodchuck hitting the electric fence.   These are my morning aerobics, tuck and roll.  

This is not an endorsement for Bird Buddy the smart bird feeder because it takes me forever to pair with it my phone and hook up to the wifi every time I charge it.  I think this might be my problem though and not the feeder but time will tell...... 

Meanwhile Rufus and his little brother are watching the show out the back window...... 

The brothers are stuck indoors and brushing up on their reading; 

They go this website regularly on snowy days... 

Meow Library

because it's January in Ohio.... 

and all that running back and forth to the bird feeder, no problem hitting those 10,000 steps. 

And the seeds have started to arrive 🎉🥳

Moon is in Aries ....pew-pew-pew!

Hello deep January.  

The penetrating cold and darkness is seeping into my old bones and although I waited, dreamed and waxed poetically about these January days last August, I'm kind of over it.  Just a week into freezing my ass off, schlepping wood, and snot freezing to my face, I realize it takes longer to suit up for one of Kirby's constitutionals than the actual walk and pee.  The wind has been relentless, 60 mph gusts and 40 mph sustained, the studio hasn't been above 40F this entire week.   

The January rampage begins....... dentist appointments and taxes!  All in one day.  So happy I do not need to return to the dentist for another 6 months but I always walk away thinking; is this the best they can do?  Poke, poke, poke, x-ray and then the cleaning!  Well, Mrs Miller, we are using the new water turboblaster to get the plaque off your teeth.  ( My inside voice; shit, why not a weedwacker. ). I hate the dentist, but even more the hygienist!  Not only are you going to touch me, you are going to touch the inside of my mouth!  Then for this rollicking good time they will now extract so many $$$ from my bank account. 

 Laying prone in the tipped back chair with blood rushing to my brain while being sprayed with high powered dentist juice, I have a moment of clarity.  For what this is costing I could fly to France, sit on Seine River, sip a bowl of  bouillabaisse while sucking down a bottle of french wine with a straw (no teeth needed)!  Alas, while in my delusional state, a lightening bolt of pain hurls to my brain and I hear; "you have a lot of exposed nerve tissue down here".  Just a suggestion, maybe a bit of warm water or no water (why cold water?) and back out of my oral cavity Hilda because you cannot clean my teeth while I'm on the ceiling! Hey and what happened to spitting?  Now they suck everything out, including your sinuses and uvula.  That hay hook hanging out the side of my mouth, has enough suction it could have pumped out and saved the Titanic while it was going down.  It is not better than the days of rinse and spit.  Now Mrs Miller just close your mouth and just like that the few brain cells I have left are gone, sucked through the hose.  

Dear God, I hate leaving the compound.  

An hour later I was home downing a couple aspirin and talking to my therapy dog, Kirby.  Suited up, braced for the subzero weather and took Kirby back to check on the chickens.  The chickens finally ventured out of the coop and were snuggled into a pile of straw and not peep could be heard.  

It's been such a banner day, let's just sit down and hammer out the state sales tax, due next week.  If you're going to have a bad day, have a really bad day.  I am totaled out for 2023, proving once again, I need to stop doing shows.  However after sending in my sales tax and getting my seed bill for the year, I seriously need to get to work or get a job!

The good news; I found the top of my desk! 

Found my way back to the studio.....

 

and started seeds!

Patterson and Alisa Craig onions, Leeks,
Heshiko and Blushing bunching onions. 

This is 2023 seed and I am curious to see how viable this seed will be.  I still have time to plant 

fresh seed in case this seed doesn't germinate. 

After my last war and peace blog I am vowing to write shorter blogs more often. 

The Iowa Caucus did not help my frame of mind when I sat down to write this blog..... 

 

Happy New Year!

 

Yikes, 2024!  If you had asked me what 2024 would be like when I was 17, I would have laughed big snorting laughs and said; I have no plans on being around.  I really didn't!  We lived hard, we lived without cares and we lived a lot of stupid.  So many stories; I have to say now that I am this many years old some of those stories have come back to haunt me and made me a very tolerable person.  There really is no earthly reason I should have lived through any of it but I did and its's 2024.   

Thank God for gardening and all things dirt!  At 17 I took my first full time job for an old grain farmer, it was a life changer.  He was in his 70's and scratched his head a lot.  The first day I worked for him; a very cold snowy March morning I showed up in cut off bib overalls and a pair of lace up boots, cotton t-shirt, topped with an LL Bean wind breaker I borrowed from Dad, with strict instructions to bring it back. It was the early 70's and we all had a pair of overalls somewhere in the closet.  Mr Bartter sent me off to prune grape vines at 8:00 am.  I remember standing there with a pair of pruners and seeing endless acres of vines.  He gave me one lesson on pruning and ball of twine and said he'd back to get me for lunch.  He drove away in his rattle trap farm truck.  I stood there for a couple a minutes; the snow devils swirled between the rows as the wind blew, damn it was cold.  I had a very thin pair of garden gloves and realized; nobody was coming to bale me out of this one. For hours I snipped and tied my way down the endless rows of tangled vines and wiped snot from running nose with my Dads windbreaker.  My bare legs were raspberry red by the time lunch rolled around and my fingers were all but frozen to the grapevine wires.  But he rolled up around noon and we went up to the house for a hot lunch and coffee and it was heaven.  After lunch I had the choice to return to the grapes or head for home.  After careful thought I asked if he would mind if I left and could come back in the morning.  I returned the next day wearing long johns, flannel lined jeans, a knitted hat and insulated gloves.  Mr Bartter was surprised and smiled when I pulled in the driveway.  Years later he confessed he thought I'd never show up again.  I took myself to the vines and he came to pick me up for lunch and so it went for three more years........ it was heaven.  

and here I am today, remember those December seed catalogs? .....

It has begun! 

Today a tray of microgreens finally made it to the seed mat and the garden plan was put to paper. 

 January and February are just a slog around these parts although this year we are missing snow and freezing temperatures.  It's really strange and has me wondering what the insect population will be like next summer.  I can roll logs over and find a plethora of activity!  None of those critters should be above ground right now.  I love winter hiking but the last two days we have had 40-60 mph winds with rain.  It's all I can do to get Kirby out the back door and yet the birds still come to the feeder.  

As does that fat bastard squirrel.  

 Came home last week to find this.....

Yes, women do live longer than men and this nails it.  Wait for the day we are getting snow, rain, wind and subzero temperatures to haul out the ladder and crawl on the roof to clean out the flue to the wood stove. These are days I just walk away and listen for the crash.... thankfully everybody lived and no reindeer were harmed.  

Besides I had indoor projects. I finally broke down and bought a microwave.  I think I had a microwave years ago but it's been so long I honestly can't remember.  I walked in to find that same guy on the roof, scraping congealed fat off a jar of soup from the basement.  Yes, it is good to scrape the fat cap off the canned turkey but then you should heat it up!   Nope, he eats it out of the jar, cold and says out loud: this tastes great.  No words on that one! 

I did not want a microwave sitting on precious counter space.  When I built this kitchen I carefully measured out under cabinets in case somebody (not me) would want to slide in an appliance.  

Moved the fridge out, drilled the hole, ran the cord through and plugged it in.  Stopped 4 or 5 times as Kirby continually whacked his head on the fridge.  Buddy take a nap!  Slid the fridge back in and the plug to the microwave is not a flush plug and fridge stuck out about 3" from the wall.  Ick!  I would see that every time I walked in the kitchen and knew it would make me crazy.  Also 3" to a blind dog is the difference between a morning concussion and safety on his way to food dish.  So pulled the fridge back out, unplugged the microwave and start looking for a new shelf.

It works under the coffee station and now he can heat 

up a breakfast pastry or jar of soup.  

I have used it a few times and it is a time saver!  Especially for leftovers! 

The 2024 vibe seems very different this year.  I've made a couple decisions on life stuff.  I will not be doing Ohio Mart this year.  I will jury into Boston Mills just because it's the 50th year anniversary and it seems a very fitting way to conclude 40 years of shows.  I don't mind doing a one or two day show but my days of 4 and 5 day shows are just over.  I broke down my booth at Ohio Mart and looked at the trampled grass.  I had lived in 3'x3' cube for 4 days.  I work alone, never sit down,  I don't eat lunch or take a bathroom break, there is just never a point of quiet during this show.  I also realized I spent 6-7 months making work for this show and in a blink of an eye it vanishes.  I am astounded and extremely grateful that people come out to buy work.  I never really get a chance to talk to them.  I used to chat, and say thank you but recently there has never been enough time for that. I know this all sounds pretty whiney and it is!  Twenty years ago I would have been thrilled and even now I am thrilled but now I am realizing we live in a consumer driven world.  I loose sleep over where the planet is headed. I am sickened on trash day on my street of the piles hauled off to the landfill.  Where do they think it goes?  It just doesn't magically disappear.  As a kid I remember Sunday shoes, Sunday dinner, holiday dinner dishes, the good table cloth embroidered by a grandma or even great grandma.   There were things that were special and only hauled out for special occasions.  Some of those "things" were treated with such reverence.  Tools for the kitchen, garden or tool box were sharpened, oiled, darned and just take care of.  I still use some of those tools and love them.  I have a couple mugs that are my Sunday mugs.  There were people standing with arm loads of pots.  I just jumped my mug prices to $45 because my raw materials have escalated off the richter scale, I agonized over the increase.  Yet, people bought mugs in multiples, sometime 4-6 at a crack. I had fooled myself into thinking I was making "special things". I came home, unloaded everything in the studio and walked away, bothered.  Is it time to turn over my sales to the galleries and gift shops?  Only now am I back in the studio working slowly because I need to find out why I do this pottery thing again.  Does this pottery thing bring me as much joy as planting seeds?  Not yet but I'm working on it.  I am teaching my first class on weaving this February, we will see how it goes.  This seems to be the year for changes, buckle up Buttercup!

More spa days for sure! 

Onions and leeks need to be started and it's game on here in Paine Falls.