The Night After Christmas

Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house, 

Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse.

Stockings were hung by the chimney with care

In hopes that they'd dry out and stink less out there.

Johnny and I were all snug in our bed

While visions of grandchildren danced in our heads

Johnny in warm socks and Linda with hot pad

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap

When right in their room there arose such a clatter

That Linda woke Johnny to tend to the matter.

"There's a cat in the house! It scratched our door open.

Go find it!" She poked him until his eyes opened.

"It's hail on the roof or a branch that is whining"

...then noticed the clock was not shining...

"The power is out" he said with a shrug.

 "Go back to sleep. Will be OK tomorrow."

But Linda kept poking and prodding, so he

Climbed out of bed to search with a flashlight

But no cat was found nor anything else

"Go back to sleep," he said when returning,

"I'm going to bed," ...but Linda kept churning.

When the sky started to brighten, she got up and dressed

And went to feed critters and look for some damage

... None seen and no hail... after all it was 50!

Small limbs were down but not near the house

...She tripped over a cat: it was stalking a mouse...

Grandma found nothing that could give such a fright

As she had been given in the wee hours of night.

But later Johnny found it... the source of the noise

Not a cat nor hail... Not twigs on the rooftop...

Friends, children, grandchildren and pup -- come out...

And know when Grandma Linda says "Look out!"...

LOOK OUT!!!

 

The noise Grandma Linda heard was not a cat scratching on the bedroom door. It was a tree breaking off in the front yard and falling across the front driveway. A very large trunk of the very tall poplar tree in our front yard. After the noise, I (Grandma Linda) could not fall asleep, so I turned on the light and wrote the first part of the above poem. I finished after Johnny had found the source of the noise and showed me. Son Steve and family were due to arrive that morning... and they did. I had them all, plus friend Mary, stand in the back yard while I took their photo and read them the poem. 

 

 

Then we all trooped out to the front yard and saw the huge trunk lying across our driveway, the fence between us and the neighbors in front of us, and for many feet into their property.

I had not seen it when I went to the barn that morning to milk and feed goats. Johnny came out and moved branches off our long driveway from the road so the kids could drive in, then discovered the huge tree across the front drive to the barn. He came to the barn and said, "I moved the stuff off the driveway that I could, but I'll need help with one." After I finished chores, he led me up the drive to the fallen poplar, again saying "I'll need help with this one." 

Indeed!!

 Since grandson Kestrel and son Steve, atop the log, are both 6 feet tall, I think it's more fair to check out the size of the trunk in comparison with Johnny and Jupiter...

Jupiter is a big dog, and not in the least intimidated by this tree...

 I have no idea how we will get this mammoth tree off our driveway. It did *not* come down across a power line. Nineteen thousand PGE customers were out of power the day after Christmas thanks to the wind storm Christmas night. Our power came back on late the next evening. 

                                          Happy Christmas Week!!

 

The Holiday Wreath Project

 Every year I make and give to family and friends wreaths made entirely from ingredients on our farm. Our grape vines are pruned after grapes have been harvested and are coiled into rounds to serve as the frames for the wreaths. In November, I start cutting greenery... this year it was shore pine and Modoc Cypress and Arizona Cypress and holly... to make the wreaths that are shipped to family members in other states and to give to local friends. And some for us to hang here on our farmstead. I love when recipients send me photos of their wreaths. Here are some I received this year:

 From nephew Rob in California... 

 

 

 From friend Hazel in Washington (looks like this one got squished in transit)

 

From grandson Ian in Washington... on his apartment door

 

From niece Melissa in Colorado, who keeps them up inside her house for years. This years is in the center, beyond the chandelier...
 

 

From son Steve in California:

 

The kind comments make all the work worthwhile. My favorite comment this year:

"Your wreath is just beautiful. I love looking at it. One of your very best! Thank you SO much."

That comment came from an artist, making me proud.

Whatever greenery is left, I use to fill however many wreath rounds I have left that are reasonably usable. This year there were three. One hangs on the woodshed, facing the concrete slab where visitors park.

 

 Another hangs next to our back door...

And the third hangs high in the milk room, out of reach of goats on the milk stand. You can tell I was running out of greenery...

 

                     HAPPY HOLLY DAYS TO EVERYONE!!

 

  

Hug Your Loved Ones!

 Time marches on and I seem to be forever falling behind. I planned to do a post on the Holiday Wreath Project, and another on our Too Many Bird Surveys in December but... 

One event that has overridden all the others happened on the day of our cider party, subject of the previous post... All of our guests were delayed by a terrible car wreck between them and us. I learned the afternoon of our party that an innocent victim was a close friend of our son Steve. Brad and his brother were two of those kids, like the cider party "kids", who spent much time at our place in their youth. It's been a terrifying, stressful time for his family and friends, but today I can say that Brad, although critically injured, survived and is recovering. It will be a long journey back...

Hug your loved ones, friends!

 

Our Apple Cider Party

Grandson Ian wanted to make cider on our farm this fall and had one weekend when he and his partner could come down from their Seattle area abode... so that's when we made cider. One set of friends had their own apples in need of pressing after their press broke down. Others just wanted to join the fun... and take home cider. Friend Barb kindly had a birthday that Saturday so it became a birthday celebration as well as a cider pressing party. In addition to all that, it was soon after the election that had our like-minded friends depressed and frightened for the future of our country... and our own futures. Together we put all the fears and worries aside and just had a rollicking good time.. while making a whole lot of apple cider.

Although it was a cold and wet November day, Johnny had moved vehicles out of the shop/garage and set up the operation under cover. Everyone was dressed for the weather and seemed to stay warm enough. ...But we moved indoors for the meal.

Most fun for me was hearing the stories that these friends told of their adventures on our farm when they were young. There were actually 3 "generations" of  "kids" represented, ranging from close to the age of our sons (who are in their 50s now)... to 30? somethings... and then to grandson Ian and partner in their early 20s. Barb, the birthday person and mother of one of the cider-making crew, is of our generation.

 Everyone took home fresh pressed cider... but there was lots left... and lots of apples still on the farm. So Johnny gathered more apples during the week and pressed again the following Saturday. Then, in his well-equipped shop, he pasteurized the cider.  

It's a lot of work for Johnny but he (apparently) enjoys it. I try to stay out of the way and mostly just take photos.

 

The little bottles are ones he gives away to all the delivery people who come, postal workers, and everyone else he meets throughout the year. It's a handy way to express thanks and share the bounty of our farm. 

                                  Happy Thanksgiving from the Fink Family Farm! 

My Birthday Week

 My birthday is on Halloween. That was a big deal when I was a kid. Not anymore. We don't live where trick or treaters visit. And our kids and grandkids live in different states. So Halloween is what we make it. But for the last two years, our oldest grandson (Kevin and Jessica's son) has driven down from Washington and cooked us a full Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings... on a weekend before or after my birthday (he's employed full-time during the week. Last year he was still in college on my birthday). Ian is an excellent cook. He learned from his mom. His partner, Kellin, does meal prep and is learning to cook like Ian. So we celebrate when Ian and Kellin arrive, loaded with fixings for food, plus gifts, beautifully wrapped, from parents Kevin and Jessica; and delicious desserts from Jessica. 

Although I am notorious for taking photos of everything and everyone, I apparently took only one while the kids were here... just Ian by the stump with a scat on top that I set a trail camera near to try to find who had left the scat. There are two stumps high above Agency Creek, where we sit and look at the creek... or that's the idea whenever the weather cooperates. Here's Ian with a stump... and just a sliver of his partner Kellin behind... 

 

And here's the stump with scat...

Later, I retrieved the trail camera card and saw the scat deliverer... an opossum. Opossums, I read, love to deposit their sign on stumps to claim their territory. The camera was upside down when I retrieved it... apparently the opossum rearranged the furniture.

 

Here is the photo upside down with the opossum right side up:

 

The kids left on Sunday so Johnny and I had my birthday, Halloween Thursday, to do something "fun". Since it was my birthday, I got to choose. I chose driving up Agency Creek to look for Dippers. I love Dippers. 

We didn't find any Dippers, but we did find lovely fall colors and rushing water.

 We came home and heated up some of the turkey and dressing Johnny had frozen from Ian's weekend feast, opened more cranberry sauce, and enjoyed my second birthday dinner... with more desserts from Jessica... on my birthday. Then we watched the Beatles movie, A Hard Day's Night. Our California family called that evening and sang Happy Birthday to me. It was a good day.

But for some reason, I grew sad the next day that no one on facebook had wished me a happy birthday, as people always do when facebook tells them it's someone's bday. Son Kevin poked around on my page and discovered that I had, years ago, set my birth date to private. So he changed it for me and suddenly I had dozens of Happy Birthday messages. (Have I mentioned before that technology is not my strong point?)

So, now... I have embarked on my 79th year around the sun, well-feted and well fed. Happy Halloween birthday, indeed!

 

 

A DAY OFF THE FARM

 We did chores very early on Thursday, October 17, so we could get up to Hood River to visit old friends we had not seen in ages. And to get home again the same day to milk goats and feed horse and dog and chickens and cats. Our friends, the Greenwoods, have a daughter who lives not far from us and volunteered to do evening chores if we were delayed. Their daughter, Autumn, feels like part of our family as she spent much time here as a youngster when her parents went hunting or just because we had a farm that she loved to come to. I have since learned that young Autumn (named Kerry by her parents but she chose Autumn later on) jumped out of the second story hay loft with our young sons. I'm sure there are many things those kids did that I would be glad not to know about. As would Kerry/Autumn's parents.

Fortunately, everyone survived. However, in my memory Autumn's younger brother, Tim, was not sent off to the Fink Family Farm as often as his big sister had been, so perhaps parents Ron and Lorna decided that the farm was not such an idyllic place for small children after all. Autumn recently told me that Tim remembers doing science experiments with our sons, Kevin and Steve, and launching mice over the barn. I guess I have shut those memories out. Autumn/Kerry insists that both she and Tim (2 years younger) spent many summers on our farm. I am old and my memory is lousy so I'm sure she must be right. But in my defense: Kerry is quite the extrovert so it's hard to notice anyone else when she is around.

 Autumn still loves the farm life and has her own farm now with goats and dogs and various other critters. Luckily, she married a guy who seems to enjoy that life, too.

We had not been to Ron and Lorna's home since Autumn/Kerry was married, however many years ago that was. Ron had been a forester, like Johnny, and attended the Univ. of Illinois School of Forestry with Johnny. That's where I met them both, at the Univ. of Illinois,... in the early 1960s. As I said, we are OLD friends. Ron met and married Lorna in Oregon, when he was a Park Ranger in the Columbia Gorge. Our families had many adventures together over the years. But we all have grown older and averse to traffic so we only see them when they come down to visit daughter Kerry/Autumn. ...Until this past Thursday...

Ron grows prize winning Dahlia's. Lorna sews beautiful quilts, cans, dries or freeze-dries everything, and goes kayaking regularly. She was always the youngest of the four of us and years have only intensified that difference. I can only remember having that much ambition and energy.

Luckily for Ron and Lorna, their son Tim lives on their property and helps with upkeep and is now the primary gardener. I did not think to get my camera out of the car until we were ready to leave. So no photos of the beautiful trees Ron has planted over the years or Tim's garden or much of anything else. I grabbed my camera before we left for home and took a few photos...

One of Ron's dahlias

A basket of dahlias a neighbor friend picked while we were there. She was taking them to a local flower show, where Ron's dahlias have won many ribbons over the years.

 

 

 

 

 

The five of us... (their Dahlia picking friend took this for us)...

From the left: Johnny, Ron, Lorna, me, Tim

 

 Ron and Lorna's dog, trying to get to the rabbit hiding under the deck...

 Tim's dog... both dogs were friendly and well-mannered...

 

 

 One of their escaped rabbits, tasting a Dahlia...

 Lorna fed us a delicious lunch and sent us home with freeze-dried goodies. She makes lots of zucchini crackers! 

Traffic in the Portland area is always awful, I gather, and it was this day. But we took time to stop for supper in Lafayette before driving home toward the sunset. 

 

 We only milked and fed an hour or so later than usual. The animals were none the worse for the wait (although they might disagree).

     And we will always have good memories (and a few photos) of a rare day away from the farm, visiting old friends.

Agency Creek in October

After my usual morning brush cutting for the goats, I walked (and rode my EZ Go) to Agency Creek, searching for the juvenile Dipper I saw yesterday. Here is yesterday's photo:

 

I had not realized that juvenile Dippers, after leaving home, have white in their wings for a short time. In all my years of monitoring Dipper nests on Agency Creek, I had never seen this plumage before. That's what I get for not monitoring after the young ones are no longer being fed by parents and have to go face life on their own. There must be a short period for this juvenile plumage before they molt into their adult outfit.

Although I found no Dipper of any plumage today, I did find lovely fall colors on our portion of the very shallow, thanks to our extended dry weather, Agency Creek.

 We have never had Dippers nest on our portion of Agency Creek. But I always hope...

What we do have is a Rattlesnake Orchid, or Plantain, which appeared out of nowhere last year in our Qi Gong grove next to Agency Creek. This year the little snakeskin-leafed plant appears to have a very little one coming up next to it. Maybe the original will bloom for us next year! There's always something to look forward to along Agency Creek.