“Kicking back on the porch at the farm.”

I’m not slowing down till spring! I looked at my calendar yesterday and realized I have no down time till mid-January but that’s when I sit down with my web developer and work on my new website. That’ll take at least two weeks then I’m thinking of heading south for a little fun in the sun and avoid the incessant shades of a grey winter in the Mid Ohio Valley. Today is coffee with the girls and lunch out, tomorrow is church and live music with a gal pal. Next week is travel to visit family for Thanksgiving. The next week I travel to Colorado till the end of the month. So, today I’m chilling out on the front porch. “Chilling” is a misnomer as it is over 60° and the sun is shining. I’m sitting with my feet up and doing the crossword. I’ve set up the bird feeders so I can see them from my front window and I am definitely enjoying their chatter as they jockey for position. They flit back and forth from the feeders to the safety of the nearby snowball bush. Yellow finches, house wrens, chickadees, and tufted titmouse. The occasional cardinal or blue jay for color. The young farm cat sits on the creek bank scowling in frustration at the missed opportunities to grab a snack. I’ve placed the feeders high enough he can’t get to my birds. Asian Lady Beetles drop in as they are attracted to the warmth of the wood on the front of the house as the sun sets. They are especially draw to places of contrast…light next to dark…like you find around windows and doors. I believe the flea spray kills them. They light on the floor of the porch and are dead in short order. It feels good to just stop and sit for a little bit and soak up the sun and the sounds of nature. Before you know it, the world will be blanketed in white and we will wish for a day like this. ❤️

“My favorite piece of my childhood.”

I gathered some of my belongings out of storage the other day and brought them to the farm. I kept my dearest antiques knowing someday I would either decorate TOW-Wanda or I would have a small home of my own again. I have postponed making this house my “home” for the last three months till I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be moving for a while. Now that I feel more secure in that, I’ve been nesting with a vengeance.

“A word from the wise.”

It’s been a little over a week since the election. I don’t know about you…but I felt emotionally and physically exhausted after being subjected to such derision and anger on a daily basis. I, quite literally, was numb from the whole process and escaped through a cleaning frenzy the likes of which this house has not seen in years. And that’s from a woman who never watched TV throughout the entire campaign. I jumped on the Peace Train. I prayed and wrote and meditated and tried to wrap my head around the whole thing. Who I voted for doesn’t matter as much as the fact that I voted…there’s problems from both sides. I ride in the neutral zone here on The Ranch because politics raises passions and I respect you all…regardless of politics.

“Digital painting of the Ohio River at sunset.”

I still suffer from “grief brain” to some extent. Or maybe it’s just the natural progression of aging. Or a combination of the two. I don’t know. What I DO know is, I have a whole list of things in my head at night when I lay down. I think of a dozen things I should have done during the day. And a dozen more that come to mind as my brain notices I want to go to sleep so it pops up and says “Here’s twenty-four things to remember in the morning. No fair getting up and writing it down!” So, it takes forever to go to sleep and…I wake up knowing there were twenty-four things and I remember, like…two. SO frustrating!

"Farmer Fred" and his wife, the "Viking Princess" are Facebook friends of mine. Those folks who my aunt used to call my "pretend friends", but undoubtedly the kind of people I like to fill my life with. While we've never met in person, Farmer Fred regales me with stories of living the farm life in Michigan. He tells me stories of his military career and how his princess still takes his breath away. He shares pictures of his draft horses and farm equipment, old logging operations and hand crafted stacks of hay that hearken back to a bygone era. He gives me helpful advice on do-it-yourself stuff around the farm and offers words of encouragement. Farmer Fred and the VP are good people and someday we'll sit together over a meal and discuss farming and literature and the human condition. But for now, our "therapy" is achieved over a virtual cup of coffee and a few snippets of life in the nether regions of this country.

This was the "offending" picture I hung when I lived here two years ago. For some reason, my aunt didn't like it. While she said it was the content, I believe it was more the fact someone was in her space. She just wasn't ready for that. Now that I'm here on my own, I'm thinking of those great pieces I kept but now reside in Colorado waiting to be retrieved. This picture is one of them. I've always loved it and will get it back one of these days.

When I left this place in 1973, I was like most teenagers. I knew everything. I knew how the world worked. I knew I loved my boyfriend and we had just gotten married. I knew we were going to be married for, like...EVER! I knew I was going to have a dozen kids and I was going to be an x-ray tech. And I was going to live far, FAR away from this simple place that lacked my worldly sophistication. After all, I left here and went straight to England to live in a foreign country and drink proper tea. I certainly didn't need these simple country people. I was on my way up.

Every day I open my eyes and look out the window to the right of my bed here at the farm. I smile when I see the sun just touching the ridge across the road and I thank God for the gift of another day. I look around the room that my grandparents shared for thirty-some years. My eyes settle on an old grainy black and white picture of six children, blissfully unaware that they were poor as church mice. My mother, the eldest, stands in the back, her head cocked with a wry smile on her pretty face. I don't think my mother ever believed she was beautiful but with her wavy raven hair, dancing green eyes, and quick, open smile...she was darling. I smile back at my mama and her siblings. Half of my loved ones in this photo are gone now, their smiles left frozen for all time in a cheap 5x7 metal frame.

I've put off really making this house look more like my "home" since I wasn't entirely sure my aunt wouldn't be coming back here to live. Although no one can read what the future holds with any certainty, it is likely she won't return here to live...just to visit, perhaps. Anyone who followed Marshmallow Ranch in October 2014 knows I came here originally to live in TOW-Wanda on the family farm to help my aunt who was living here alone. That arrangement lasted until I made the mistake of hanging a painting she didn't like in the dining room. That was the beginning of the end of my stay. Which was fine. She just wasn't ready to have someone here with her and I had other things that needed doing. Now that she is unable to live here alone, she is with her brother and I am the caretaker at the old homeplace.

I have a friend who is going through a rough patch. A love has ended and she is going through the pain that brings. She is also a widow. We have never met in person, yet we are friends...sisters...on a "soular" level. As a matter of fact, we have only spoken on the phone once in the two years we've "known" each other. I've wanted it that way because it keeps the relationship pure...just two souls touching in the ether. Someday we will sit together in person.