Snow!

The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event.

 You go to bed in one kind of a world

and wake up in another quite different,

and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?

J. B. Priestley

 

 

 



Merry Christmas!

 

 

From here on the North Forty, I would like to wish each of you a very Merry Christmas.

Live, love, be happy, count your blessings and celebrate family and friends.

And now we wait . ..

The winter sunshine streamed through the windows late this afternoon,

 casting a fine golden light on the edges of the Christmas tree.

 

 

 The Christmas tree fairly basked in the glow.

 

All is calm, all is bright, and all is ready, waiting for the jolly fellow in red to make his annual visit.

 

The dish seems in no hurry to run anywhere with the spoon this year.

 

 

Even Sylvester and Tweety have called a truce

and hang together peacably among the evergreen branches.

Please, hurry Christmas don't be late.



 

 

Jack Frost Nipping at your Nose

The North Forty was a frosty thing of beauty this morning.

 

 

 Gorgeous white ice crystals frosted everything as

 

 

a brilliant sun peeked over the hills.

Had to steal out for a few moments while baby granddaughter slept.

 



 

Should have been finishing the chocolate pretzels which have been

languishing around the stove for several days.

 

 

Going to run out of tomorrows soon.

Maybe we will have the pretzels for Valentine's Day.

They are shaped like hearts after all.

 

 

Not really a photo of frost. 

But I sure liked the loops and the colors.

 

 

Not really a photo of frost either.

This creature stared at me while I was standing at the kitchen sink doing dishes.

I knew I was being watched.

Pesky, hungry critters.



 

 

 

Through the Eyes of a Baby

 

A most amazing thing is happening to me as I keep company with a baby.

 

I have begun to see, to think, and to live with baby eyes.

 

Baby eyes are full of possibility and wonder.

 

Baby eyes are clear.

 

Baby eyes are pensive and sensitive.

 

Baby eyes are gleeful.

There is no getting off the hook in a baby's eyes.

This morning, baby granddaughter and I went Christmas shopping, our first such excursion together.  I admit to a bit of trepidation, worried about possibly everything under the sun. Do I need parental permission to take such a trip?  So I asked permission of both parents before embarking on the journey, a trip of no more than 40 minutes each way.  Did I remember everything that goes in the diaper bag?  What if I have a wreck?  What if she cries the whole time we are gone?  What if, what if, what if . . . . . . .

Yet soon after we began our journey, my own set of baby eyes took over.

 

With baby eyes, I cried as I watched a mother gently touch and speak to her special needs child before she helped him to board the school bus in his wheelchair this morning. 

 

With baby eyes, I thrilled to watch a few random snowflakes dot the windshield. 

 

With baby eyes, I wouldn't dream of exceeding the speed limit.

With baby eyes, I encountered dozens of people with their own sets of baby eyes looking right back at me and baby granddaughter.  They offered greeting, opened doors, spoke kindly, and offered to help baby granddaughter and me at every turn.

With baby eyes, during the drive, as baby granddaughter napped in the car seat, I grew ever more grateful for the blessings in my life I, all too often, take for granted.

With baby eyes, I tried to recount the beauty of the day to baby granddaughter's mom, The One, when she came to take her home.  As tears welled up in my eyes, I can only wonder what The One thought.  If she brings baby granddaughter back in the morning, I will know all is well.

When I took on the responsibility of watching baby granddaughter, I honestly didn't know what to expect.  I plunged in.  Do now, think later.

I expected to be doing the giving, the changing (of diapers, that is), and to help with the upbringing of baby granddaughter.

But, interestingly, everything seems to working backwards.  It is I who am taking from the experience.  It is I who am changing.  It is I who is receiving the upbringing.  It is I, beginning to live life . . . through a baby's eyes.







 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello Again!

So, yes, I know it's been 53 days since I last put fingers to keyboard.  Actually, I have put fingers to keyboard, but I published none of the posts, either because I didn't like the words I wrote, or I fell asleep in the middle of typing them.  And, because it's been 53 days, and because life has upended itself, and because I'm stumbling down a new path,  and because I am still adjusting to this new life path, I don't know where to begin.  But, if I do not begin to write again soon, I fear I never will.  (Thank you, Mom, for your gentle encouragement.)

I will make it short and to the point.   I left behind what most would consider a perfectly good job at the university in my little town so that I might take care of my baby granddaughter while her mom and dad work.  That's it.  Sounds simple and easy enough.  It wasn't.  But, all that was not easy is now water under the bridge, and it is best to leave it there, where it belongs, in the past, and under the bridge.

That about brings us up to date. Funny how 53 days of intensity can be summed up in one short paragraph.  It's time to move on. 

Baby granddaughter, by the way, is one amazing little person.  Her rate of growth and development is nothing short of astonishing.  Bright and early each morning a new little girl peers out at me from the confines of her car seat.  One day finds her intent on practicing rolling over.  The next day finds her fascinated with the bump in the middle of her face, better known as a nose.  The next, she may spend hours exercising her vocal chords - screaming, cooing, and squealing.   Each day, something new.  Each day, a different mood.   She grows ever more focused, ever more alert, ever more attuned to the world around her.  We are still becoming acquainted, she and I.  It has been, is and will be a grand journey of discovery, trust, care, and love.  I am humbled to be taking care of this precious child.

Life on the North Forty continues on, decidedly different, yet delectable, all the same.


 

Some Day Soon

The North Forty Chronicles will return.

Soon.

Not bigger, nor better, but certainly different.

It's going to take a little time.

Thanks for being patient.

Garden's End

Mayor, Sis and I spent, what will probably be, our last evening in the garden recently.

We dug sweet potatoes.

Not just any sweet potatoes, mind you.

 

 

Here, our sizeable beauties wait to lifted from the soil.

 

 

My very favorite gardening partners unearthing the orange treasures.

 

 

The remnants of the garden remain regal.

 

 

The spent sunflowers have fed the birds much like the vegetables have fed us.

 



The golden October Dusk is almost upon us. 

Time to move on.

 

 

So, the sweet potato harvest has moved to the comfort of my back porch where it will cure.

 

 

And, Mayor, in the coordinating orange shirt

shows off this monster sweet potato weighing in at 10 pounds. 

 

A good time was had by all.

Farm 2012

It's that time of year again. 

Time to harvest the crops from the fields in the river bottoms.

Long, dusty, busy days on the farm.

Better Half, with Iphone in hand, is capturing images of his work day to share with us.

 

 

 

Trying not to think about this photo, as lovely as it is,

 taken from the very top of the grain bins.

(meaning Better Half has climbed to the top of the highest bin to take it)

Check out the early morning fog in the distance

at the confluence of the Scioto and Ohio Rivers.

 

 

Steam rising from the drying corn.

 

 

Soy beans being unloaded and readied for storage.

 

The farm, in its early morning October majesty.
Thanks Better Half.
Be careful climbing down from the bin.
We look forward to more great photos.

 

Pumpkin Saturday

Orion, The One, Baby Granddaughter and I took a road trip today.

We visited Renick's Family Farm Pumpkins. 

Hardy souls made their way to the "all you can carry for one price" field.

Children played on hay bales and posed for photos.

The tantalizing smell of grilled sausages filled the air.

 

Small children scampered among the rows of perfect jack-o-lantern pumpkins.

 

Colorful squash were piled high, huddling for warmth, in the brisk morning sunshine



 

One lone orange pumpkin sat lost in a sea of yellow and grey.

The sign is self-explanatory.

The rich colors and gorgeous shapes beg to be photographed.
But, my favorite pumpkin of the day . . .

 

 Thanks, Orion, The One and Baby Granddaughter
for a perfect October Saturday.



 

 



The Farm 3

The family was scattered to the winds Sunday,
so I retreated to the farm to walk, enjoy the fine weather, and take some photos.

The ripening splendor of the fields,
 with hints of autumn's color in the hills beyond,
welcomes me.

The beans stand full and slender.

 

The corn patiently waits for the harvest.  

 

Almost to the road where the fields meet the river.

And, so my walk begins. . .

 

Bright yellow paw-paw leaves litter the way. . .

 

 

From the deep shade of the trees that line the river walk . . .

 

 

Tired worn butteflies barely moving as I walk by . . . 

 

 Scattered leaves meandering down the river . . .

The gentle ripple of the caramel fields . . .
 

 

 

The tattered grace of the old barn . . . 

 

The images of fall.