I just read my last post where I was musing whether or not my "pains" would go away if I stopped weeding. That actually worked. But the trade off is a damned jungle of a garden -- outta control with weeds -- and I guess I have to buck up or lose everything!
We have been staying at the cottage for the last month or so, and it has been wonderful. Despite the fact that I had to return here every day to deal with dogs and chickens and gardens, it was worth it every night I sat on the porch or dock and watched the sun set and then listened to the lapping of the water as the community settled itself to sleep and eventually complete silence ensued, with only the occasional cry of a loon to be heard. Both evenings and early mornings became my favorite. To wake up to a lake that was as smooth as glass was a treat, and Charlie and I would climb into the boat and jet to Sunapee Harbor for an iced coffee or breakfast. Our first morning home, we have to adjust to the sounds of inland living! No water! No boats roaring this way and that. Instead some giant truck was going down the hill and it sounded like a jet engine. I set bolt upright in bed, wondering if the world was coming to an end. I always thought this place was so quiet, but it's actually not. Lots of traffic on our road it seems. I don't like it.
Blodgett's Landing has been a part of my story since I was a young adult. It is where Peter and I came together, where our romance took root in a series of small cottages, as he would move out of his winter rental to move in with his parents on the lake. Oh, how I hated it when he did that! He became a slave to the dinner bell and our easy going routine would be harshly disrupted by his "I have to go home for dinner." Oh, I could write a novel on the dinner wars. Perhaps I will. Or not! I just spent the last week at the cottage preparing a slew of dinners to freeze for his parents, who have had health issues keep them from getting to the lake before this weekend. My biggest complaint has always been that when we would actually get to the lake, we would be on the dock, enjoying the sun and water, and we would have to go up to the porch at six thirty for dinner, which would then mean the best time of the evening would be spent on a tiny porch with many bodies, with the awning down to block out the sun. It drove me bonkers. I do, however, find it interesting that I did that this past weekend, with me being the architect of the design. I prepared the meals in the morning, losing my coveted time of enjoying the glass lake, etc. to chopping and stirring. Then later, back in the kitchen at my favorite time of evening to get dinner out to the table, for, you guessed it, a six thirty seating! What made it all tolerable was that I had spent the weeks prior to that enjoying the things that I like to do. It's kind of funny to realize that it wasn't the meals, or the time of the meals, or anything to do with the meals I had a problem with. I just wanted to see the sun set. I do love sunsets. I could sacrifice one or two because I had been gorging on them prior to it.
But I digress. Over the years we have returned to Blodgett's Landing for months at a time whenever we had something big happening to our "inland" home! But the last time we lived there for any significant amount of time was when Charlie was three. He is sixteen. It has been a long time, and over the years I have been convincing myself that I am okay with that, and that now the kids are older, I don't really have any reason to go there at all. They certainly don't need to be watched while they swim, and they can drive themselves over! I just assumed that other than visiting with Peter's parents, my connection to the cottage and the Landing itself would sort of die a natural death. But this past July at the lake has been so relaxing for us all. It is closer to both Maddie and Charlie's jobs, and even Peter, who does so love his own bed, realized that it's kind of nice to come home after a long, hard day at work and take a swim and maybe even a boat ride. He even commented that he thinks he would live longer if we lived at the lake. What I liked the most was that he was free of TV. He will get home and sit in front of that thing until he goes to bed. Hey, I watch TV too, but only late at night, only taped shows and not to become a couch zombie. His complaint is that while he is watching that, I am on the computer. True, that, but we don't watch ANY of the same shows, so why stop what I am doing to go sit near him and try to socialize while he stares at it. It's a problem, a problem I have pointed out before, but it was completely a non-issue as there really is no TV at the lake (there is, but it's old and there are no comfortable chairs to sit in while watching it) and so we would relax when he came home, together on the dock. It was nice. I will miss it. I can already feel my stomach clenching at the thought of him returning to the living room to while away his few hours before bedtime. But perhaps he has learned that there are other ways to relax, which would be nice.
It wasn't hard to return home last night because there are too many people there. What is an idyllic get-away for a family of four is way too small for eight plus people. Yesterday morning I thought I was going to burst because I couldn't find an open bathroom for over ten minutes!
The one good thing about being home was that I was actually able to sleep in. I am a bit sleep-deprived, for no other reason than I wanted long days I guess, and hopped out of bed bright and early to eke out every single hour I could! But this morning I just felt like I didn't ever have to get up. Which is good! Hard to sleep in at the cottage when you can hear people outside doing things and all you can wonder is, what am I missing? But here I am missing weeding and cleaning out the chicken coop -- I think I can prolong that!
I also haven't had an writing opportunities as I only have an iPad with me when I leave my inland house! So this feels gooooooood and while I could write until dusk, it is apparent my thoughts are scattered and so I should stop and put them together a bit before rambling on more!
Things I would like to go into depth:
The Landing and its significant impact on my life. The way being in a small community can be both charming and irritating!
The cottage and what it has meant to myself and my family. Dealing with other family members.
And more, I am sure!
Monday, July 23, 2012
Monday, July 2, 2012
Putting down roots?
A good portion of each of my days is filled with a mish mash of garden-related chores. The other day I spent well over three hours on my hands and knees freeing the peas from the most aggressive grass. I had to literally find the somewhat weak root base of the pea plant and then feel around for the pieces of grass that were choking it out. As I finally reached the end of the line, I was amazed at how much time had passed. I didn't mind doing this chore all that much -- it was intricate surgery and required a lot of attention to detail. These pea plants are well over a foot high and already sprouting pods -- I didn't want them to be pulled out by accident, so I was meticulous in feeling around for the right root to pull out.
This morning I went out to turn on the watering system, and lo and behold if those peas didn't just shoot up another foot. Freed from the stranglehold of that pesky grass, it was able to grow, and grow it did!
The raspberry patch is another story. I have weeded that area at least six times already, and there is about a quarter of the patch still left. The grass and weeds flourish in there like nothing I have ever seen, and while I have put down hay around the areas where I have already weeded (for the SIXTH time, I learn quick, huh!) I can't do that in the other parts until they are free and clear. It is as though the weeds are cemented in ... BRUTAL ... it takes hours to get the tiniest patch cleared. The heavy pounding of the rain we have had has made the earth hard ... each and every single piece of unwanted growth needs to be hoed or scratched out with one tool or another. I can squat and bend for a few hours, but then I need to shake it up. I have been dealing with a "weeding" injury for a few weeks now -- a pain that is reminiscent of sciatica that I can recall from pregnancies. Hurts like hell sometimes, then goes away completely for a while. Of course, me being me, I listened to a friend talk about her ordeal with lyme disease, and of course, many of her symptoms mimic mine (or I get them just hearing about them, not sure which came first, the chicken or the egg) and I add that to the fact that I pulled off a tic from myself a few weeks ago, and well ... I am convinced I have lyme disease.
But then again, I COULD attribute it to the fact that I weed nearly every day, and that is pretty brutal on the body. I keep thinking maybe I should STOP weeding to see if it will go away. But I can't! It will get completely out of control. As soon as I finish weeding one patio (we have three large ones) the other two need attention. It is safe to say I weed all the time.
This is all in an attempt to keep poison off the property. My husband loves poison and has, in the past, taken care of the patios with Round-Up. Which has always upset me, but then again, it is a tad exhausting doing it "the natural way!" But if I am going to have free-range chickens around, I absolutely DO NOT WANT poison anywhere. Period. And the only way to do that is to keep the patios weeded so he won't even get the idea to do it. (I caught Charlie using it on one patio not too long ago ... geesh).
It is amazing to me how many hours I have been putting in, between the chickens and the gardens (and the patios too!) I haven't had any time to write in the past few weeks (months?) and yet, I am constantly drawn outside, where there is always something to do. I keep the chicken coop probably a lot cleaner than most ... because for some unbeknownst reason I keep applying my own thoughts and feelings to the silly fowl. "Oh, I woudn't want to sleep on all of this poop, so it must be removed." I read how people don't do a thorough cleaning of their coop more than once a month, and I do it weekly, and I touch it up daily. Overkill? Perhaps, but there seems to be a though process that there are certain standards for animals and anything above and beyond that is too much. Our outdoor run is six by twelve feet, I believe, and is about perfect for the 16 chickens to run around in, and stretch their wings, literally. We have been told a number of times that they don't need that much room. But I think to myself, why don't they? They love it, every morning when I let them out they rush around in circles and fly and hop and literally get their ya-ya's out. It's a pleasure to watch them truly enjoy themselves. And every time I bring in a pile of weeds they clamor about in glee. Maybe most chickens don't have feelings, but mine do! I have gotten over the "I have no idea what I am doing," phase and feel quite confident that there is no one way to raise chickens. I even look forward to getting a new batch of chicks (in the future, no time soon!) and I know exactly how I will do it this time, and I assure you, they will NOT be in my house. I have no idea what kind of crazy people think that is the way to go, but it is not necessary if you have a decent coop.
And another thing I have decided to let go of is the concern about predators. Peter and I have done our best to create a fortress of a chicken run, and then I read that raccoons will chew through chicken wire. Well, you know what? I want free range chickens ... I have one chicken that does everything in her power to sneak out, and I am not terribly sure why I won't let her run to her heart's content. My vision is chickens wandering about, and keeping them locked up isn't part of that. I wanted the run so that when we weren't home they could still be outside and somewhat safe, but somehow along the line I've forgotten that my intent is for them to run free. Peter asks me daily when I am going to start, and my mentality has been so focused on protecting them, I've forgotten the vision. So next week I am going to introduce them to the big, free world.
I think!
This morning I went out to turn on the watering system, and lo and behold if those peas didn't just shoot up another foot. Freed from the stranglehold of that pesky grass, it was able to grow, and grow it did!
The raspberry patch is another story. I have weeded that area at least six times already, and there is about a quarter of the patch still left. The grass and weeds flourish in there like nothing I have ever seen, and while I have put down hay around the areas where I have already weeded (for the SIXTH time, I learn quick, huh!) I can't do that in the other parts until they are free and clear. It is as though the weeds are cemented in ... BRUTAL ... it takes hours to get the tiniest patch cleared. The heavy pounding of the rain we have had has made the earth hard ... each and every single piece of unwanted growth needs to be hoed or scratched out with one tool or another. I can squat and bend for a few hours, but then I need to shake it up. I have been dealing with a "weeding" injury for a few weeks now -- a pain that is reminiscent of sciatica that I can recall from pregnancies. Hurts like hell sometimes, then goes away completely for a while. Of course, me being me, I listened to a friend talk about her ordeal with lyme disease, and of course, many of her symptoms mimic mine (or I get them just hearing about them, not sure which came first, the chicken or the egg) and I add that to the fact that I pulled off a tic from myself a few weeks ago, and well ... I am convinced I have lyme disease.
But then again, I COULD attribute it to the fact that I weed nearly every day, and that is pretty brutal on the body. I keep thinking maybe I should STOP weeding to see if it will go away. But I can't! It will get completely out of control. As soon as I finish weeding one patio (we have three large ones) the other two need attention. It is safe to say I weed all the time.
This is all in an attempt to keep poison off the property. My husband loves poison and has, in the past, taken care of the patios with Round-Up. Which has always upset me, but then again, it is a tad exhausting doing it "the natural way!" But if I am going to have free-range chickens around, I absolutely DO NOT WANT poison anywhere. Period. And the only way to do that is to keep the patios weeded so he won't even get the idea to do it. (I caught Charlie using it on one patio not too long ago ... geesh).
It is amazing to me how many hours I have been putting in, between the chickens and the gardens (and the patios too!) I haven't had any time to write in the past few weeks (months?) and yet, I am constantly drawn outside, where there is always something to do. I keep the chicken coop probably a lot cleaner than most ... because for some unbeknownst reason I keep applying my own thoughts and feelings to the silly fowl. "Oh, I woudn't want to sleep on all of this poop, so it must be removed." I read how people don't do a thorough cleaning of their coop more than once a month, and I do it weekly, and I touch it up daily. Overkill? Perhaps, but there seems to be a though process that there are certain standards for animals and anything above and beyond that is too much. Our outdoor run is six by twelve feet, I believe, and is about perfect for the 16 chickens to run around in, and stretch their wings, literally. We have been told a number of times that they don't need that much room. But I think to myself, why don't they? They love it, every morning when I let them out they rush around in circles and fly and hop and literally get their ya-ya's out. It's a pleasure to watch them truly enjoy themselves. And every time I bring in a pile of weeds they clamor about in glee. Maybe most chickens don't have feelings, but mine do! I have gotten over the "I have no idea what I am doing," phase and feel quite confident that there is no one way to raise chickens. I even look forward to getting a new batch of chicks (in the future, no time soon!) and I know exactly how I will do it this time, and I assure you, they will NOT be in my house. I have no idea what kind of crazy people think that is the way to go, but it is not necessary if you have a decent coop.
And another thing I have decided to let go of is the concern about predators. Peter and I have done our best to create a fortress of a chicken run, and then I read that raccoons will chew through chicken wire. Well, you know what? I want free range chickens ... I have one chicken that does everything in her power to sneak out, and I am not terribly sure why I won't let her run to her heart's content. My vision is chickens wandering about, and keeping them locked up isn't part of that. I wanted the run so that when we weren't home they could still be outside and somewhat safe, but somehow along the line I've forgotten that my intent is for them to run free. Peter asks me daily when I am going to start, and my mentality has been so focused on protecting them, I've forgotten the vision. So next week I am going to introduce them to the big, free world.
I think!
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