I was an impatient child. In school, it took FOREVER for recess to roll around. Christmas and summer break always seemed an eternity away, and even the 5 mile drive to grandma’s house seemed almost unbearably long. I was also pensive. After these things had come and gone, I was inconsolable when contemplating how long it would be until the next occurrence. (I remember specifically how much I hated the ride HOME from the State Fair.)
Having not been to the farm for two weeks, I’m feeling the same way on the train ride today. Both giddy and a bit nauseated with anxiety. On a farm at this time of year, so many things happen during the course of a week, let alone two.
I’ve heard reports from Farmer John that the poppies are in full bloom, that Handyman Dan has started re-silvering the barn roof, and that a new baby goat has entered the herd. There’s family visiting, too, and I’ve been promised a meatloaf sandwich—my favorite.
The vegetable garden is bound to have a few surprises—both wanted and unwanted, but that is all part of the fun. I know the first crop of salads are up and the radishes are ready to be harvested. I need to create a recipe for a radish relish or radish slaw. When I’ve perfected it, I’ll post it.
This weekend we will start producing the Month of July soap. As for all of the monthly soaps, July is inspired by those things that are flourishing on the farm during that month. (July is all about mint, rosemary, and thyme around here).
Our neighbor has invited us over for a garden brunch and as an extra enticement (though none was needed) has promised to send me home with some of her prized irises that are in need of dividing.
It’s a good thing the summer days are long. I have lost time to search for.
THE TRAIN REPORT (each week I’ll also give you a glimpse on what our train ride was like):
The train departed five minutes late (an eternity!)
I tapped my foot the whole way to Albany.
The train was not so crowded and people seemed relaxed, knowing that they had two long, full summer days awaiting them at their final destination.
I leave the farm this weekend with a souvenir—a farmer’s tan. I neglected to put sun tan lotion on the back of my neck, and after hours spent bending over in the flower garden pulling weeds, I completed my transformation into a true red neck. The number of weeds that can sprout after a summer thunderstorm is astounding.
A slightly more attractive transformation from this weekend.
And whenever you have a peony, an ant is never far away. Before bringing peonies inside for a flower arrangement, you should always turn them upside down and give them a little shake to get the ants out.
But just as in childhood, all good things come to an end. A Saturday evening thunderstorm swept away all of the delicate peony and poppy blossoms. They’re gone until next year. Just like that. In a flash.
I thought the same thing as I was looking at the remnants of the alium. While still quite architectural, I’ll have to wait a whole twelve months to see their springtime fireworks again.
Some things are worth the wait. And some things are better because of it.
Find out who is waiting on these—and the amazing ritual that accompanies them. Read all about it over on the HowToo blog.
THE TRAIN REPORT:
20 minutes late taking off. They had to unhook the private car. Who knew Amtrak even had private cars? (Note to self: investigate)
Crowded, but the crowd was well-behaved.
Another sunset on the Hudson.
Another pleasant nap soothed by the hum of the rails.