After Apple Picking

After Apple Picking by Robert Frost

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree 

Toward heaven still, 

And there's a barrel that I didn't fill 

Beside it, and there may be two or three 

Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.

But I am done with apple-picking now.

Essence of winter sleep is on the night,

The scent of apples: I am drowsing off. 

I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight 

I got from looking through a pane of glass 

I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough 

And held against the world of hoary grass. 

It melted, and I let it fall and break. 

But I was well

Upon my way to sleep before it fell, 

And I could tell 

What form my dreaming was about to take. 

Magnified apples appear and disappear, 

Stem end and blossom end, 

And every fleck of russet showing clear. 

My instep arch not only keeps the ache, 

It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round. 

I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend. 

And I keep hearing from the cellar bin 

The rumbling sound 

Of load on load of apples coming in. 

For I have had too much 

Of apple-picking: I am overtired 

Of the great harvest I myself desired. 

There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch, 

Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall. 

For all 

That struck the earth, 

No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble, 

Went surely to the cider-apple heap 

As of no worth. 

One can see what will trouble 

This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is. 

Were he not gone, 

The woodchuck could say whether it's like his 

Long sleep, as I describe its coming on, 

Or just some human sleep. 

When life sends you a toxic ploom - plant flowers

It was early spring, we had only begun to prepare the garden for planting. With the studio transformed into guest space, my seedling/grow light station in need of a new home, I traded for plants this year. Eggs and honey! Some beautiful plants were traded and gifted. They were in the house until the ground was ready. I was at UMD the day it happened. Sara and our friend Regina were coming from our house to Duluth for an event. The sky over Superior became covered in a dark cloud. The Husky oil refinery exploded. Superior, WI and surrounding areas were being evacuated.

We didn't think a lot more about it - 20 plus miles downwind - until we saw a map of the ploom. Right over Nammah's Place. The soil likely contaminated. My colleagues at UMD with such expertise recommended we not eat food grown in our soil. "It's just one year. Do something else." Do something else? People who know me know that THIS is not just a hobby or even a passion, it is a way of life. I choose a 10 month contract (2 months less salary) to grow the food I would  otherwise purchase. There is always scarcity in the abundance. Planting, growing, tending, harvesting, canning and freezing...to last the entire year. Maybe two if there are off years. Some people put money in savings. I put away food. It holds the same value - and effort - in my mind.

It's is times like this when you know it is even more than that! Yes it is my choice to be as sustainable as possible with what we eat - rather than working more for money to buy that food. But it is SO much more than that. It is in my cells, my DNA, my hands, my being. The thought that this one little piece of the earth I can have "control" of and do right by - organic - permaculture...but a toxic ploom from an explosion over 20 miles away!?! It threw me into a painful and important level of awareness of what many people in the world experience all the time. Unnatural disasters with disproportionate consequences. Polluted rivers. Eminent domain for pipelines and interstates. My safe and sacred space - my garden - polluted from above and there was nothing I could do about it. Another illusion of control...shattered.

And still the power and resilience of Mother Earth, taught me her lesson once again. "Plant flowers." My chemical engineer colleague said. "The flowers this year will take up the toxicity from the soil so it will be eliminated for plants the following year." This notion made me want to weep. The metaphor of sacrifice for the next generation! And the fortune that only one year was required to rid the risks from our soil. Some aren't so fortunate.

We shifted our plan. Flowers in the raised beds and veggies in the pots.

A salvaged bed frame from pals Tom and David at Whippoorwill Farm and two truckloads of WLSSD composted black dirt and a completed greenhouse (just in time). We were back in the "business" we call a way of life!

Turned out our squash bed was still covered with cardboard and straw from the previous year, so upon removing it, we had a patch of uncontaminated garden soil IN the garden as well.

It WAS a year of abundance! Tomatoes and peppers like never before (they loved the greenhouse. Next year they will be back there and out of pots!) 

The freezers are full and the pantry is stocked. My summer vocation salvaged! 

 #Gratitude!

The Art of Bee'ing

"Last night, as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!-that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures." Antonia Machado (translated by Robert Bly)

I think I DO have a beehive in my heart! Who knew I would love beekeeping as much as I do. Even my failures. My second year with an unsuccessful inaugural winter over - as of January 2018 at least one hive is alive and well.

Unlike other endeavors, I took my time with this one. In 2014 I took a 2 day class from Marla Spivek and the folks at the University of Minnesota Bee Lab. It was a fabulous course. After day one I was ready to buy my equipment on the spot - the vendors were ready! After day 2 - I decided I needed to wait and prepare the infrastructure first. The bees arrive in a package in April - too early to get a bear fence set up through the frozen ground. I heard a clear message that I needed to be prepared.

Two years later, I took the plunge and ordered my bees. The fence was in - electric for bear with an interior barrier of dog fencing to deter smaller invaders. Pavers, stand, wood chips around the ground to keep weeds down. Check! Sara bought me a bee suit for my birthday and at concert in Minneapolis  a generous man in the audience gifted me his hive boxes, smoker and other equipment. Bruno was his name. After singing several songs with bee references, I shared from the stage my desire to become a beekeeper. Bruno came up to me at the break and said he was retiring from bee keeping and moving into town. I could have all of his stuff!

I joined the Northeast Minnesota Beekeepers Association, found a mentor and took the advice to start with new boxes. Sara painted beautiful flowers on each box, drilling a ventilation hole right where the bee would go in search of pollen.

As many things go, one thing leads to another. The boxes got too heavy for me to lift off and I had to find a helper and get her a suit! though Sara was clear she did not want to be left to tend to the bees the way she has the chickens (oops), she has been gracious to help me when I need it. Plus, she looks adorable in the suit!

THEN the dog kennel was too crowded to work in, especially when helpers were around - SO...I had to double the kennel. 

Double wide kennel was perfect for two hives the next year!

See how this works!? One hive my first year. They were a sweet hive of Carnolians, a gentle breed perfect for first timers. Though I treated for mites twice in the summer, I wasn't vigilant enough heading into fall and ultimately, it looks like they became infested with mites and absconded before winter even hit. I didn't know it, so I left them a full box or two of honey for the winter. 

That honey turned out to be quite nice - almost a creamed honey. We harvested some for ourselves and saved the rest for the new hives. Two this year - hoping maybe one will survive the winter. It's an expensive hobby anyway - buying bees every year (when the first year is not much honey for harvesting) can be disappointing. Still, we DID get some honey the first year. They were amazing and hard workers for first year bees.

Yet, I didn't get bees for the honey. I got them to pollinate the garden. Any honey would be the cherry on top but not expected. Well...when it came - I was hooked! We tried the crush and strain method.

As well as the spin method.

My brother in law came up with the clever Paulanator Production and Sara made the labels. Even if just for our pantry and as a gift to family and friends, it makes for a fun finish!

And then...there was the bees wax! This beekeeping just kept producing unexpected pleasures and now I am dreaming about all that I can make with the beautiful pure beeswax (that takes lots of work to get!)

Overall, I am feeling like I am getting the hang of things. Sara said that she has never seen me as "present" as I am in the hive.

Though there is still so much to learn and much you can't control. It's a great opportunity for me to practice simply Bee'ing. 

Life is what happens while you are making other plans

After 2 weeks of sub zero temperatures and the calendar turned over to yet another new year - I am aware that while I had intended to blog more last summer - life happened! It was a great summer overall. My intentions to stay close to home and focus on Nammah and my own rootedness were largely successful. I stayed home for a solid 8 weeks - venturing away for only short trips to town, intermittent work responsibilities or day adventures. Each day was a meandering into what was calling for that day.

Our Icelandic chicken flock continues to grow slowly. We add a few chicks each summer - then cull the roosters in the spring when we realize just how many there are! Our late hatches are difficult to identify until they bound out in the spring, ready to sow their own seeds. Last spring was particularly traumatic when 5 roosters ganged up on poor Gudrun (the matriarch) #MeToo! Sara was away weaving music with Naomi Shihab Nye at a writing retreat. I was left alone to fend them off. We learned a difficult lesson. Too many roosters in the hen house is NOT good for anyone (or anything as far as we could tell.) Sara wrote a new song inspired by the experience and I overcame my own intimidation of the roosters.

One of the new Nammah ventures that helped to secure the home boundedness was a foray into what I called "meat birds." Sara built me an amazing chicken tractor and I bought 25 chicks that arrived in the mail on June 16. It was a rocky start and a rocky finish (with losses) but the 15 approx. 5# broilers in the freezer are better tasting then I imagined! IF we are going to be meat eaters, I love the notion of adding to our sustainable life style by raising our own meat. We know how it was cared for, what it ate, etc. I have the urge to be THAT close to my food. All of it! Or as much of it as we can accomplish.

This experiment really had me questioning it all. While I thought I was pulling out of the large industrial complex of food production, it also felt like-in ways-that I had stepped right into it! Though I raised the birds in my own small scale "idyllic" manner, they clearly were bred and "pre-produced" just for something less than an idyllic life. They grew too fast, did't really appreciate the green pasture I provided for them and were down right mean to each other. I did not grow to appreciate them the way I did our Icelandic birds. I still feel conflicted about it all. And I am grateful for the lessons. If THIS meat does feel feel OK for me to eat, then I cannot be a meat eater. I still am - so will try again in a couple of years with a different variety of chicken. One with less of a "designer DNA."

Nammah's Garden herself had a mixed year. The plan that her year off would lead to richer soils and fewer weeds/bugs (due to chicken activity and permaculture (ish) tactics) again went more according to the life that happened. It was a difficult year for many gardeners I know. Colder spring - wetter summer - though a longer fall. Still, the tomatoes were few and far between and mealy rather than garden fresh tasting.

The banner crops were the delicate squash, asparagus and berries. Berries and berries and berries! I am grateful for what was - also grateful that: a) I don't need to make a living on my productivity, and b) That we also don't need to rely on only what we produce to eat. Though at times I think I could just quit my job and live a sustainable life, I am struck with the reality (and gratitude) that I have a paying job! #MoreParadox and #MixedFeelings.

The abundance of berries was a particular challenge as my lead berry picker AND weeder was gone for 2 months out of the summer. Sara was part of the Missouri River NibiWalk. This 54 day (it turned out to be) "extended prayer for the water" was a great opportunity for her to further live her values. It was a challenge for both of us AND provided some important gifts ad lessons for us as well. I had the opportunity to practice what I called my own personal Dayenu (Hebrew:דַּיֵּנוּ‬). We have sung this song with Rabbi Amy and our Three Altos group as part of the Jewish holiday of Passover. The word "Dayenu" means approximately "it would have been enough", "it would have been sufficient", or "it would have sufficed". I have been struck by this notion and tried to incorporate it into my summer mantra. I can tend to focus on how many of my plans did NOT happen instead of what was. Each day I would ask myself what one thing would be enough for the day - if it could only be one thing - and that one that would be enough. Especially with Sara gone, it was a great spiritual practice for me as there was so much I could NOT do. And I SO wanted the summer to feel spacious and re-juvinating. I'm not sure that it was ALL of that. But it was enough! :)

The weeds on the paths grew out of control. But Sara came home! Life continues and I continue to make other plans.