Weekend Visitors

Sorry for the delay in recapping the weekend, but I've been a busy beaver.  Ross' father came to visit this past weekend and brought his girlfriend.  This was the first time we have met her, and she was a delight.

We had a wonderful weekend.  It was a bit of a whirlwind with visits here and there.  They arrived Thursday evening, and Ross had spent the day preparing.  He'd made a Lebanese meal like his grandmother (his father's mother) used to make.  Ross also tricked me; he knows that I've had some bad experiences with lamb in the past.  He gave me a taste test off the grill of what I thought was beef.  It was mighty tasty.  I guess I'll have to rethink my position on lamb.  We relaxed that evening so that they could recharge their batteries after driving all day.

We started Friday with a hearty breakfast at Patty's-a local breakfast/lunch diner in Litchfield.  I tried to warn everyone that the pancakes were huge.  I'm not sure if they thought I was exaggerating, but I was proven correct upon delivery of our order!  After that we did some shopping/sight-seeing on the Litchfield town green where I picked up some adorable new place mats and matching napkins for our dining room table.  After that we checked out some sites on a bit of a car tour and ended the tour with a walk through an old cemetery in Washington.   After getting a bite to eat we headed up to Averill Farm to get some apple cider donuts (oh so good) for Saturday breakfast, and then we took another car ride around scenic Lake Waramaug.  For our final stop we went to Guy Wolff's pottery shop.  Everyone who knows me knows that I have an addiction to his handmade flower pots and other accoutrements.  A visit to Guy's is always enjoyable and this visit proved to be the same.  Afterwards, we headed home for some r&r before Ross stuffed us with his chicken enchiladas.

Saturday began with breakfast at the house (those Averill donuts were so good).  We headed to Kent next (with a stop at Guy Wolff's again-I'm not the only person with an addiction to his wares it seems) and went to Bull's Bridge which is one of three covered bridges left in Connecticut.  It is such a scenic place, and watching Ross' father act like a little boy climbing over all the rocks was quite amusing.  Our next stop was to Belgique which is a local chocolateur (another oh so yummy treat).  We spent some time window shopping again down Kent's main drag and then headed back towards home.  On our way back we stopped at Angevine Farm to pick pumpkins, and we got to take a hayride around the farm.  We loaded the car with our pumpkins and headed back home where Ross stuffed us, once again, with barbecue ribs.  I think I'm still recovering from all the food.

Our guests left after breakfast Sunday morning.  In between all the running around we had a lot of great conversations.  It was a pleasure to catch up and to get to know Ross' father's girlfriend.  The two seem very happy together.  We had such a great time visiting and were sorry to see them go, although I was able use the free time to repot our aloe plant into my new Guy Wolff pot!

But Does He Do Windows?

The answer is yes he does!  I spent a good portion of the weekend cleaning windows.  Now I'd like to say that this was part of my semi-annual maintenance, but truth be told, we have not done a thorough cleaning of the windows since we bought the place two and a half years ago (and I can't begin to tell you when they were cleaned before that).  I never really realized how dirty they were until I cleaned one, and then I had to clean the rest.  I also didn't realize how many windows there are on our house between the regular panes and the storm windows until I started this very tedious job.  My thought half-way through was thank God we have a one-story house.  Although the job is in no way glamorous, I cannot describe the feeling of going inside and looking out through sparkling, clean windows.  It was very satisfying to see the world in full color instead of through the whitish-gray haze that was there before.  Of course, someone had to put a finger print on one of my freshly cleaned windows within hours of me cleaning it.  Ross assures me he did not do it.

This was just a precursor to the interior cleaning that we will be doing this coming week.  We are having family visit next weekend.  As such the whole house will be getting  a good going-over.  My mother accused us once of keeping our house too clean, and referred to us a Felix and Super-Felix (me being Super-Felix).  I took it as a compliment.  One of my fondest memories of meeting Ross' family was the first time I met his grandmother, affectionately referred to as Sito.  She came to our place for Thanksgiving, and her first remark after greeting everyone was to compliment us on how clean our home was.  Personally, I think our house could be cleaner, but that's just my obsessive compulsive disorder talking.

It has been a banner year for our tomatoes.  Ross was able to can another batch of his tomato sauce this weekend.  I love his tomato sauce.  For Friday supper, he made homemade spaghetti in his sauce with garlic bread (he made the bread himself and the garlic was from our garden); I am so spoiled.  With all the tomatoes this year, he has canned three batches of sauce, two batches of tomato soup, a batch of salsa, and two batches of tomato ketchup.  We will be eating well this winter!

Of course with me washing windows, Ross was on chicken patrol.  Blackie, our Black Australorps, had a tough Saturday.  Every so often chickens can lay soft-shelled eggs; the shell is there but it is not rigid or hard.  Blackie for some reason does this pretty much once a month, but instead of one egg she usually lays two in quick succession.  This was the case on Saturday.  It was later in the day, and Ross noticed that she was all puffed up and was looking like she was going to lay.  He got the other girls to go to their run so he could baby sit Blackie while she passed her eggs.  I was out front with them cleaning windows at the time.  To my great dismay, I heard a pack of coyotes in the distance howling while Ross was herding the rest of the girls to the back.  Coyotes are common place here, but hearing a group of them howling in the distance during daylight hours is not.  I said a little prayer that out little Australorps would get her eggs out before our property was overrun with hungry mongrels stumbling upon a chicken dinner.  She did get her eggs out, and we were not overrun by coyotes.  Of course, had we been, we would have been able to see them clearly through those freshly cleaned windows!

Fall is in the Air

I can't believe that it is Sunday already.  Ross and I have had a wonderful and relaxing weekend.  The weather Saturday was bright, sunny and cool.  It was a perfect day for our planned outing.  We went on a farm tour in Roxbury, CT which is one of those idyllic, small New England towns that commercialism has yet to reach.  We got to see two, historic farms and two, more-modern farms.  We had a wonderful time looking at the orchards and farm animals.  The not-so-little girl to the left is a Scottish Highland cow.  She was quite the character.  One of the guides mentioned that one farm in Roxbury imported this cattle breed a number of years ago, and now it seems that every other farm in the area has gotten itself two or so from the babies that followed.  They seemed quite the gentle giants and are supposedly well suited to our New England winters.  The farm where this picture was taken is one of the oldest continuous running farms in the country.  It is currently being run by the eighth generation of the family, and the land it sits on was originally granted to them in the early 1700s by the King of England.

On another farm there were goats and donkeys.  As stated in an earlier post, Ross really wants goats.  I was  surprised at the simple shed that was used to house them.  It is definitely something that we could build.   I should have asked if they stay in the shed in the winter or if they are transferred to another barn.  Oh well, we have some time before we get to goats, unless Ross pulls the chicken stunt on me again!

We also toured a certified organic vegetable farm and a local meat farm that focuses on humane treatment of its black angus cattle, heritage hogs, and free-range chickens.  We ended up buying some bacon for Sunday breakfast.  It was really good!  We had a great time touring the farms, but I think it was also very dangerous because now my head is filled with all kinds of ideas.

We awoke to an overcast and very cool Sunday.  I think the temperature might have made it to 62 degrees if we were lucky.  It was a good day to trim some of our trees though.  Ross got this picture of me climbing the ladder.  I wish he was able to catch the moment that I was trying to move it while it was still extended and almost fell backwards.  That would have been classic.  Always the worrier, Ross came around front (with the chickens in tow) and reminded me not to let the limbs fall on my head like I did when I trimmed one of our pine trees in the Spring.  I wasn't directly under that limb, but somehow or another when it dropped it hit me straight on the head.  It hit me so hard all I kept repeating to myself was "don't let go of the ladder."  It took me a couple of minutes to steady myself and then slowly descend to the ground.  Today was the first day since the pine that I tackled some larger limbs.  Believe me, not letting them hit my head was definitely a priority.  I got them down just fine with no new dents in my noggin, phew.

For Sunday supper, Ross made a most tasty pot roast with potatoes and carrots from the garden.  Ross likes to joke that it was his pot roast that sealed the deal on our relationship since that was the first meal he cooked for me.  I think my waistline agrees.

Since I'm on food I just wanted to give a quick update on one of our annual events-Peach Week-which occurred this past week.  Each year since we moved to Connecticut Ross and I go peach picking at a local farm; we did it this year this past Sunday (Daisy's last day-hence the reason that I'm getting to this now).  The week starts off with us just eating the peaches, and ends with jars of peach jam, peach butter, peach chutney, and halved peaches in a light sugar syrup all heading to storage in the cellar.  I can't tell you what a treat it is on a cold, late February night to open a can of the peaches we picked and get a taste of summer.  Peach Week is one of the main reasons we started our own, small orchard.

This year there were two additions to Peach Week; the first was Ross' new copper jam pot (which worked great), and the second was me.  He actually let me help.  It was a lot of fun, and I learned a lot about canning.   Of course my mom telephoned me at the same time that I placed a jar of jam in the hot water bath and the heat broke the bottom off lickety-split.  Nothing like trying to juggle a phone and a mess at the same time.  C'est la vie!

I should also mention that Ross made a delicious peach pie.  Some people love cakes; some love cookies.  I'm a pie guy.  Ross has always made stellar pies, but I must say that he has perfected his crust.  I think I could down a mud pie if it was cooked up in his crust!  And, on this note I think I will go since I know that there is still some pie in the fridge that needs attending to.

Nothing Left But Memories

As I awoke this morning I did what I do every morning laying there half-awake.  I gently moved my legs around to see where my little Daisy was sleeping.  This morning she wasn't there, nor will she be ever again.  We had her put down yesterday.

As those close to us know, Daisy was diagnosed with oral cancer this past May.  I asked the vet if the cancer would metastasize and she said no.  This was a bit of a blessing since the cancer would not ravage my little girl's body.  We were given two months; we got four.  What finally put us over the edge was that little Daisy could no longer eat.  We hadn't seen her eat anything in two days.  The cancer had grown to a point that she could not get food past the mass.  Her head was drooping (the vet told us that this was a sign of a potassium deficiency), she was wobbly when she walked, and she was becoming even more lethargic.  Once Ross pried open her mouth we knew that the inevitable had come.

Yesterday was a beautiful day-the sky was blue with big puffy white clouds, there was a nice breeze blowing, and the temperature was in the seventies.  Once we knew what was to happen we brought a sleeping bag out to the back yard next to the flower garden; Daisy loved to lay on the rocks in this garden.  I called the vet who said he would come to the house for this, and Ross and I took turns laying with Daisy. The picture above is the last picture taken of Daisy; it was taken about ten minutes before the vet arrived.  She slept next to both of us so peacefully.  What was to follow I will leave out because I feel that these moments are hard and emotional yet special, and words can never do them justice.  Afterwards we said our goodbyes, and the vet took Daisy away so that she could be cremated.  We held each other for a moment and then life began again.

When I was in high school we had to meet certain requirements to graduate, but there were many elective classes that one could choose around the core curriculum to meet the necessary standards.  For my health class elective I chose Thanatology-the study of death and dying.  I know it sounds a bit morose, but the teacher was cool.  And, I heard there were no tests.  The no tests rumor was confirmed on the first day of class to everyone's great glee until the teacher stopped us and said that there were no tests in the class, but we would be tested someday.  The basis of the class was not the study of death but how to live with loss.  I can remember the teacher saying that everyone will lose something important to them- a job, a marriage, a loved one, and what will be left behind is grief.  This grief will be like a measuring stick; it will show you the measure of how much you loved what you lost.  As an example, you might hear on the news about the tragic loss of someone you don't know, and your heart goes out for their family.  Although you felt something your life still goes on because you had no investment in that poor, lost soul, while that family you don't know's lives have just come to a screeching, sudden stop because their dear loved one has died.  Love is measured in grief; the more you love the more your grieve.  Plain and simple.  What isn't simple is how you grieve.

Shortly after losing Daisy I went back to work stripping paint off the columns in front of our garage (the task I've been working on this weekend).  Ross called his family for support.  Back when Daisy was first diagnosed with cancer I became acutely aware that Ross and I were a mismatched set when it came to grieving.  Ross reaches out to others to seek comfort while I withdraw from the world.  The interesting part of this behavior is that normally Ross is more reserved, if not downright shy, and I am the more gregarious of us two.  As I sat there working, all I thought of was Daisy and how much I already missed her.  I was using a heat gun to remove the layers of paint, and afterwards I could tell each time I started to cry because I ended up scorching the wood from leaving the gun in one area too long.  I felt, I still feel bad-bad for Daisy for having had cancer, bad for me because I feel so crappy, and bad for Ross because he feels bad and needs me while all I want to do is go away (yes to all of you crying out avoidance-I know I know...).  We'll muddle through somehow.

To conclude this most sad entry I will leave you with a thought I had while sitting there charring my column, with pain in my heart and tears rolling down my cheeks.  I thanked God for allowing me to feel so bad because it allowed me to know that what I had was special, and it mattered.  It was good and will be missed.

I love my little Daisy, my Doodlebug, and I hope that I never stop trying to feel for her every morning, half-awake, with my feet for the rest of my days even though I will always be left with disappointment.