a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

The Mighty Chestnut Tree

is a pain in my hands and my feet.  We had similar trees that grew wild years ago, the Chinkapin, Dad said they had a disease and died in our area.  He purchased an alternative, the Chestnut.
The tree almost appears prehistoric with the rough bark and saw toothed leaves.
This is a fully opened burr
and one containing the nuts.
I don't think anyone wants to go barefooted around these.

I picked up many burrs today.  I used tongs.  These stickers are scary and hurt like heck.  It was a sheer joy to start a fire with them.  I was more joyful burning the burrs than I was picking up the nuts.
Marcy is roasting them but not over an open fire.  She is using the dehydrator.
 I had trimmed some limbs earlier in the month and added them gleefully to the fire of chestnut burrs.
The fire burned low as Hubby bush hogged the valley 
The dogs patiently waited for me to play stick.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

The Keeper of History

I thought of Dad today
As I cleaned away
In a shop of memories
Of him and for me
World War II bag and cans
Handleless hammers and axes
Still waiting for him to repair
And parts of his dad were also there
Fishing nets and cotton scales
cans of oil and cow bells
I hang them high for all to see
I am the keeper of history.
While I clean I must not forget
to respect the nature that has claimed this for a nest.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Searching

– Rebeca Cygnus
In the dark I reach
to find color
form
 direction
Eternally searching
for the answer
Am I the Assassin Bug
or the wild flower?

Alert! Snake!

This was one...there are more.
Ki is smelling under water trying to find one.
No dog saw the baby snake (left).
The Farm Team went into action.
The photographer was too slow to catch the action.
Four did their job.
Good dogs!!!

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Using The Words



Birthed face down was a miracle in itself
But a strong heart beat in this tiny sprout
Far from shore a drizzle began
Turning the future into a ripe silhouette
While lines deepened on faces
That had traveled this path before
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