you want this party started, right?

Color for the people

Brightening

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”  -Haruki Murakami

Not that the storm we suffered has even been that bad.  We are feeling SO much better and thank you all for your thoughts.  Adversity just makes us stronger, right?  

Blank Slate

Winter drives me mad.  When I was a little kid and would get in a huff about things, my father would call me stomp-and-snort.  One of the uglier personas I sometimes still like to don, much to Stuart's chagrin.  Must we really have three children in the house, Alice?  Petulance can unfortunately be a lifelong trait.  Stomp-and-snort seems particularly prone to come out during the short, dark days of winter where there is nowhere to turn but inward and I have to grope around in the darkness of myself.  And trust me, dark groping can be as perverted as it sounds!

But seriously, it has been a challenging winter for us.  Our greenhouse heater went out during one of the first arctic blasts we had and we lost a couple rounds of lilies and several rounds of transplants.  Then yesterday we lost our new hoophouse which we received the majority of funding for through the NRCS.  Stuart and our crew put so much time into the construction of that house.  We had just finished ditching and preparing a french drain for it and we were slated to have it all planted by late March.  Then I went into the greenhouse yesterday and noticed leaf burn on the last round of lilies we had planted, which means (i'm guessing) our heater is emitting too much ethylene or some other gas that would do this.  Sometimes I would like nothing more than to create a blank slate and start over, perhaps even in another field of work.  But we sit and ask ourselves what we would rather be doing and we have trouble coming up with anything.  So farming it is, despite the heartbreak, despite the loss, despite the failure.  I hope we have some big wins this year as well.  

My loves

Snow day

First winter cuts

 

We are hiring for 2014!

 Bluebird Meadows is currently hiring for the 2014 farm season!!!  We are looking for 2 full time workers to start in early March and probably go through to November, possibly later.  

Please spread the word and email us if you are interested!  

email is:  bluebirdmeadowsnc@yahoo.com

House of Flowers

 I've been thinking a lot about death lately.  Fear.  Worrying.  I don't want to fear death, I want to embrace it.  Lately when I go to sleep I've found myself alone on an ocean shore, just looking at the horizon and listening to the waves, comtemplating whether or not I want to die there, to dissolve myself as I look at the ocean, to become the ocean.  It's not really cerebral thinking, just a passive way of wondering.  If it gets too cerebral it loses it's beauty and appeal and fear begins to creep in and I must desert this place of solitude before my mind ruins it for me.  I want it to be a safe place if this is where I'm going when I die.  Flowers do that for me, they take me to a place of safety and beauty; they are a living art that nourishes.  I've been thinking about an art project I want to do sometime, it might have to wait until the girls get a little older, but I want to start trying to dye pieces of wood with natural dyes from plants from the farm and make a collage, then seal it with beeswax, keeping it a pure process with as little off land input as possible.  I'm searching the libraries and internet for information, but so far haven't found a great deal on dying wood.  For now I'll have to be content with our flowers and my vision of death's enigma to keep my soul at rest.

Winter sets in.

 Feels like winter around here, winter with two little ones and a farm to run.  Short days going by in a blind fury like I'm caught in a blizzard of time and so much action out of my control.  Everything I want to do stays just out of reach, a peripheral sighting of sanity just at the edge of my vision.  It's amazing the strength it takes to breathe deep these days and remain calm.  I'm trying my best.
Despite my mothering mania and perpetual lack of sleep, our farm is doing well.  We are in the midst of deciding how we want next year to go.  How much we want to plant, how we want to change things.  I'm so, SO happy we got a perennial section in, even if it all dies.  That was our fall feat this year, especially with the ridiculously wet season we have had.  We had a record rainfall yesterday in our area.  All the fields around here looked like ponds, including ours.  We made it into the December edition of Our State Magazine.  Awesome picture of our booth, makes us proud.  And we even got to go for a pleasure walk at Ayr Mount with the family.  Love that place.