Will you be On Time?

It's not worth your time-

What a waste of time!

I don't have any time....

I'm running out of time-

Take your time.

I want to spend my time-

Would you give your time...?

What a wonderful time! 

I'll never forget that time-

Lifetime

I'm sitting here thinking of my least favorite state of being- we all have one, or more than one I suppose for some- for me, it's being busy. Now let me clarify: I always enjoy having purpose, goals, and work to do; but to me this is not the same as being busy. Time spent in a whirlwind of activity is to me a waste of the very thing we are racing to beat- time. 

The most valuable asset that can't be bought, extended, or even value totaled until it's ended is something I believe I must use with care, intent, and moments of steady breathing. These past few days I could feel my own life gathering into a dust cloud of busy. Looking ahead, with warmer weather and my profession, the dust cloud will naturally grow into a tornado of busy, if left unchecked. 

Now perhaps some think that they have so much to do, that it is impossible not to be busy. In truth, if we all sat down and thought through our lives, and listed all the places we go and things we do, we'd find that life doesn't necessarily hold a lot of "have-to's" to be lived. There's the proverbial wants versus needs, followed by scrutinizing the wants: do they enrich life or merely clutter up corners with unfulfilling "busy"? 

A few years ago I learned to appreciate the absence of everything- time spent slowly- and how living this time out made me more productive in all things. There were places, things, jobs, and yes even people that had to be removed from the list of have-to and recognized as not even things on which I wanted to spend my time. Perhaps I appeared a recluse, selfish, and maybe a tad crazy for what I gave up. But it was a trade, I assure you for the better, for my time. 

I want my loved ones to have all of me during our time together, my profession requires my entire heart and mind to be executed as I expect of myself, and lastly, but truly in life, firstly- I require all of me in each and every moment I live. Totally immersed in my gardens, in writing this piece and reminding myself why, for this writing is as much for my own learning as for your enjoyment. Having the time to give my whole mind and whole heart to the present activity- or lack thereof.

Lifetime: to spend my time taking my time for the time I'm given in this life. 

Fly High, Fly Low

This post is a bit different than my others, a bit more personal, a bit more nostalgic, and more about

My favorite of my mother

people than plants. But it does concern itself with a very important B in my life- one that has been there before all the others came to be. The woman who made B- my mother- Barbara. My mother is an artist, a writer- and a deep, quiet thinker. I'd like to think I have been graced with some of her talents, and as I look back on photographs, hopefully some of her graceful beauty. This weekend was a very exciting one for me- new business opportunities, marketing myself and a friend's company, and the general busyness that Spring brings to the life of a horticulturist. But as I walked booths at an industry trade show, I was feverishly searching for a book for my mother. I'd been looking for several weeks, and had found many possibilities, but none were the book. It needed to be just right; I hoped I'd know it when I saw it, and it had a lot to hold. She had offered to write me a memory book- to capture all the times she kept as treasured memories, and maybe even reflections on the darker times that wove their way through our lives.

Mom and Joey for his birthday

In my thirty five years of life- my mother and I have gone through many a time together and apart- and for several years- far too many now that they are behind us- times of complete silence. No, silence is the wrong word, for we were both screaming for the other to hear, yet neither could catch a word of understanding. These years of distance were created from a wall built (mostly by me) of misunderstandings, unasked questions, and perceptions that were never challenged. There was a time, not very long ago, that I had determined that no real relationship would ever exist for my mother and me. The chasm was too far to cross, and I was determined to move forward, I told myself- not back. I am so grateful to her for her quiet patience, waiting for her stubborn daughter to question these perceptions, knock down the wall of misunderstanding, and re-learn each other as mother and daughter. I am also so thankful I am writing these words now, while she is alive, and can read them herself, than penning them in anguish and regret after she leaves this earth. I don't want to be comforted by those all too often spoken condolences of- "she knew you loved her" I want to tell her now, and know she knows how grateful I am to have a mother such as her. 

The cover of the journal

As I walked among booths of tempting flowers and garden treasures, I came upon a booth of what looked to be old books. I love old books; I have to crack them open and smell them, look for the loving inscriptions, and find to what page the book's cracked binding sends me. But these were not just old books- they were journals made from the covers and pages of old books- to give the writer inspiration, or a theme- or just add a little whimsy to their personal pages. Here is where I found the book- a children's book- Fly High Fly Low- I knew it the moment I saw the cover- with a seagull soaring above a harbor- this was the book to capture our life memories. 

I don't have the best memory of my childhood or teenage years- there are some years I have absolutely no memory of at all- but I do remember my mother's love for a character named Jonathan Seagull. I grew up near the ocean, and I have memories of my mother and I walking the beaches, riding the train along the shoreline, exploring Mystic Seaport together- the ocean holds our memories. Then there's the title- Fly High, Fly Low. It is a  bittersweet story, of a gull whose wings are entangled in wire and just wants to be free- fleeing from every hand that reaches for it- to finally rest by itself in quiet pain. A boy follows the gull through the story, and after gentle presence- is able to get close enough to free the bird. In any case- while not parallel to us- it was the perfect book for our story. 

Blank pages with the book interspersed

You see, my mother has always believed in my wings, their strength, their purpose, and never lost hope- even though for a time I needed to stay entangled in wire- she was a steady presence- whether I acknowledged her or not. Now, I can feel my wings strengthening with each day, my direction clearing with each mile I travel, and I know I owe the woman of quiet strength, beauty, and patience for the wingspan that lets me fly high, fly low- and have her love and support wherever I go. I look forward to the memories she will capture in this book, things I may have only one view on, or have completely forgotten; I will get to read them through her eyes. Life is getting busy, exciting- there's a great unknown to where all this will take me. But I will make time for quiet moments with this book, to remember just how my wings were made, strengthened, believed in, and freed- and so grateful for her who was there to let me fly. 

A Time for Seed Leaves

Gardening teaches many lessons, some might argue it is the best metaphor for any life lesson, and I would not disagree. As a child I was taught many things through our gardens; and when I want to examine my life, I often envision myself as a plant. Sometimes I'm a budding iris, and I think about the swift, magnificent beauty of special times, that though short, are so special that they hold through the months of steady green and dormant rhizome. Other times I see myself as the whole garden, and carefully weed through overgrown thoughts and habits that if left untended, would choke out what good things I should be cultivating- love, patience, kindness, knowledge.

  One lesson that I feel I am constantly being given re-tests on in life is patience, and there is no better place to learn patience than in the garden. My biggest passion in all things plants is the seed starting, and I try to challenge myself with new seed material every year. People ask me what my methods are; and to be honest, there is only one thing I have been consistently successful with, and that is time and attention. I spend hours upon hours babying and re-potting plants, treating sick seedlings, talking (yes, alright and singing) to them, and just spending my time with them. When life becomes busy and all I can offer is a quick water and cursory glance, my plants fade- no matter the fancy lights and mats or soil mix.

Lavender seedlings

In the past few weeks, my little lavender seedlings have all started to develop healthy true leaves. Lavender is a very slow plant through germination and development. This year's seeds took two weeks to germinate, and over a month before true leaves began to develop. Now the seed leaves, or cotyledons - those first leaves to emerge- often look nothing like the true leaves, and once the seedling establishes itself, they often yellow and fall off, their work complete. You see, these leaves are inside the seed- formed before the plant emerges- and their purpose is to provide stored food for the plant- until more leaves develop and the plant can produce it's own food through photosynthesis. I guess I am going through the trouble of spelling this out because I have spent so much time and energy with my little lavender babies, and I began to see a lesson with them for myself.  Sure, I could go buy a fully developed lavender plant for about ten dollars- and it would take quite nicely with little effort or time spent by me. But I don't grow plants for the end product. I don't put in gardens just for the fruit. If I did, and we looked at the harvest versus the inputs, I might be deemed the worst producer ever.

So back to the seed leaves and my fixation on them. I find it interesting that the older I get, the more comfortable I need to become with not knowing or understanding what lies ahead. My seed has broken open- that's often a metaphor for life change- but the next part is equally as important, and if we were to examine a newly germinated plant by it's seed leaves, we might pass it over as insignificant- just two indistinct leaves that as yet can't really tell us much about the plant to come. In life, I feel I am in the seed leaf stage- I am growing- I know I look nothing like where I will one day be- but I am growing and that's all that matters.

This time, this stage, may be temporary and look rather humble compared to where I aim to be, yet it is arguably the most important growing I have to do. If a little tomato of a plant, my true leaves will show quite soon, and all will know that shiny red fruits are on their way. Yet, if I be that little lavender, someday to develop into a strong herb with beautiful flowers and woody fragrant branches and leaves, I may as yet be in my humble seed leaves a bit longer, and feed a bit slower on my seed leaf reserves. And when my true leaves emerge, whatever shape they be, may I have spent the time and attention to growth to produce a strong, well established, defined- leaf, bud, root, and fruit.

My geranium says it's Springtime!

One year lavender in the pot next to two month old seedlings

It's a Spring Thing

Yes, yes, I know, it's only  February, but my Spring fever has been burning strong since January 2nd, and in the seed starting world, spring begins when your seeds need to sprout! This winter I researched plants that had the longest growing season, just to be able to get my growing on as early as possible. I started with artichokes, that have a 180 day growing season, and asparagus, both on the first of February. The asparagus are a perennial crop, and will not be harvest-able for three years. Right now, my tables are crowding in with red and yellow onion seedlings, lavender babies, artichokes, asparagus, and a lettuce bowl, along with other various oddities that I am keeping alive through the grey winter days. This coming week I will be starting celery seeds (that's them soaking in the clay pot base), amaranth, and a few varieties of peppers.

Who says you can't grow donut holes?

My seed collection is out of control, and try as I might, I can't not add to it every year. This year's focus is going to be on vegetables I can preserve and can (which, I suppose, is pretty much everything if you visit some of these great homesteading group pages on Facebook), and a cutting garden. My sunflower bed brought me so much happiness last year that I just have to keep that going, adding sturdy flowers for bouquets such as zinnias, stock, cosmos, snapdragon, calendula, amaranth, and heliotrope. Anyone who knows me well knows I am a sentimental sap, and while browsing Baker Creek's seed catalog I came across an older heirloom flower called Kiss Me Over the Garden Gate. The flower looks like a bright pink lavender spray, and I am excited to add such a lovely, whimsical flower to my cutting garden this year!

Growth is so important, body, mind, soul, and of course seed. Last year was such a transformative year for me, and this year is proving to be more of the same! Perhaps not so much transforming, but putting down roots into all the endeavors I began last year. I am currently studying to take my Certified Nursery and Landscape Professional (CNLP) exam in two weeks, gearing up to begin my position as a staff horticulturist at Graycliff, continuing my gardening service business, and of course, starting as many seeds as my seed room will hold. I am using both grow lights and heat mats this year, with the lights on approximately 16 hours a day. I have noticed much more uniform germination overall as opposed to last year using only the heat mats. I have several seed packets that are years old, and those I am trying the soak method with to be ale to track which seeds germinate rather than waste soil and container space. Plus, it's so much fun to open the baggies and see the seeds breaking free and starting their growing journey.

Studying Woody Plant ID for CNLP

Don't worry, baking is still very much alive as well- I have found a new eager set of taste tester's in my Lowe's co-workers, and I will be conquering more recipes for their taste buds to approve. This spring I will also be getting back to my bees. As some of you may know, after losing my hives two years ago, I took a break to concentrate on other (less expensive) endeavors, but my empty hives are calling! I will be ordering two nucs to install this spring.
I have to tell you, one of my favorite things about the off-season job I took in the lumber department of Lowe's is the interesting people I meet. I took the job to learn about a skill-set I had little experience in, so any chance I get to ask contractors, farmers, or just savvy DIY'ers questions is a treat for me. I met a local beekeeper who was building a barn for his bees- he had decided that in the winter, rather than trying to cover, wind break and protect around the hives, he would bring the hives in for shelter during the cold months. We got to talking about the year I lost my bees, and I told him how I was still uncertain, but carrying guilt for not properly caring for them and, in turn, losing them.

The beekeeper told me of a national study (don't ask me for a reference, I was helping him load 2 x 4's at the time) that connected the severe loss in winter of 2016 to the drought the region experienced the summer prior. The study concluded that due to the drought's high stress on plants, the pollen that was produced lacked sufficient protein for the bees. This in turn caused the bees to produce brood that lived shorter lifespans than would normally be produced for winter. You see, most of the loss for that year occurred the week after Christmas. If you can think back (I have trouble remembering last week, so don't hurt yourself!) we had a particularly warm and wet winter- with a day or two in the 60's early January. That is when I discovered my bees had died. Actually, that is when most of the bee loss was for that year, and scientists found it just too coincidental that a major loss would happen across a region all around the same week. It was still a devastating loss, but interesting to learn the chain of seasonal events that most likely caused their demise. Such is the life of a beekeeper- and a gardener for that matter! We plant, we nurture, we watch, we hope, and although we may not always reap what we sow, we always end up with net growth, even if it's just a lesson for next year.

Soaking celery seed and starting alyssum, heliotrope, and viola.

Seed starting circa mid February!

Ferning asparagus with artichokes in the background

Life Wandering

 I really should not be left to wander in an uncomfortable place for hours. All it produces is multiple pages of multi-branched, seemingly unrelated notes. A spiderweb of my thoughts. The only common thread being the author at its central joint. As I walk a giant mall in an unfamiliar city, two of my least favorite things, it helps me clearly focus on a jumble of Loves that feel so far from this echo chamber of material and structural mass. At thirty-five, I feel comfortably lost on this journey to create my own life. For being lost means I am not ignorantly on the wrong path and thinking it right. I am mindfully in search of the path I know I have not yet found. That's farther than I can say I was a year ago.
A year ago, I started this blog, dreaming, and knowing I would jump from the path I seemed to be solidly walking. Today I scramble side roads and cliffs of life, aimless wandering to some, yet pointedly searching to me. My job does not define me, my home does not define me, and no, not even does my motherhood define me. Life defines itself as I walk, and defining anything else becomes far less significant the further I grow.
I started this post weeks ago and I'm picking it up on Christmas Eve. A holiday that makes me uncomfortable at best, confused and wanting solitude at worst. You see, I did not grow up celebrating this holiday- and while I respect the traditions and love everyone has for it, and participate to some degree- especially with anything I can decorate or create, I mostly prefer to keep to myself. My celebration of life and loved ones is each day I see them, my frustration and annoyance with them is also an any-day event- not stored up for one expectation-whipped day that leaves more in tears than in the arms of love. But I digress. I always take Christmas Eve and Christmas as a solitary time walk

the woods and reflect on my year. This year, 2017- for the world was so many different things. To some the best, to others, the worst- and to still others- their last.
For me, this year was one of  transformation and love. I am in such a different place in every aspect of my life other than home- that's still here on the farm- and goodness am I thankful for that. It is a place of refuge, of comfort, of love. It is a place I can grow my seeds, bake to my heart's content, or spend hours by the fire with one of my dearest friends. The farm makes me more of a homebody with every day that passes. When everything you need is home, why leave?
Well, for work I suppose. There has been the biggest change. Leaving the Army Corps. Starting my gardening service. Sidestepping for the coffee shop, starting a part time job at Lowe's that I told myself would be a brief bridge to get me to a job I really wanted- and finding out the bridge was more the road.
My main focus going forward is to build my business. I have tried several times to downplay it's significance- that it will just be a side thing until I found what I really was meant to do- but people who see my strengths better than I can won't let me do that. They see the potential better than I do, and in the last month, Bonnie's Barefoot Gardening Service has been offered the opportunity to work on a historical landscape restoration for one of the area's historic treasures- Frank Lloyd Wright's Graycliff Estate. I have been asked to help plant and maintain the gardens, orchards and trees in keeping with the original design of the property. This is a huge honor for me, and one I know was spurred by a friendship that grew just this year. Her inspiration helped take my ten year business dream to reality, working in her garden gives me the greatest joy, and having her as a friend, mentor, and fierce lady I aspire to be like is one of this year's greatest treasures. Thank you, dear Sally, for your role in this year's growth and love.
I cannot tell you the total wealth of people I have added to My Loves this year, but I can tell you the returns are ever-abundant and beyond enriching. I cannot tell you what colors my wings will be after all the transformations from this year and beyond. What I can tell you is that this year, for all the by-roads and seeming side journeys, was the straightest path to life I have ever taken, and will continue to take, and I am ever-grateful for those of you that walk beside me on life's way-

In Commune

As I sit in a hotel room after a conference I just attended, I can't help but feel a bit deflated at its conclusion. Now we can call to reference the oft-spoke phrase that the best way to avoid disappointment is to come with no expectations, and I do often try to apply this thought process to my life situations, but this time- I just needed expectations. It was a conference for Veteran Farners, and a New York chapter of the organization was coming into being at the conference. Most of the room was made up of previously networked farmers and service providers. I was in the minority- a Veteran who dreams of being a farmer. I stood up during a discussion forum and told them this- that here- who they sought- was in their midst and the struggles I have in bridging the gap from desiring to being. I earned applause for my eloquence, handshakes for my bravery in speaking up, yet no real guidance for my dream. Ironically, the main topic of the forum was communication and how to grow their organization, get farmers the labor they desperately needed in the form of hard working Veterans left without a purpose at the end of their military careers, and why there was a gap in their way of communicating and the majority of Veterans' reception of this information.

Communication is only vulnerability when you feel you have something to lose by sharing your story. I have often been told I am too open with my life, that I should keep information private, or at the very least- share less. This thought process is backwards to me. Here's why: I start on the premise that every person is inherently selfish- they listen only for what they can glean or what part connects to their life- the rest is soon forgotten. What they do with my story is then in their hands. If I become a lesson for them to make better choices, then may their way be  easier than mine. If I become an example for them to follow, then may they too reap the benefits my path offers. If but a story to ridicule or laugh- it truly affects me none- but the teller, well, for a laugh and a moment of drama- if that's what they seek, our paths will naturally take different heights in due time. 

But back to the conference: the biggest obstacle in getting Veterans into farming, it seems- is the start up capital and land, and the partnership with a farmer mentor to begin their journey. As a single woman alone even if I were approved to buy the ideal parcel with adequate living quarters, without a knowledgeable mentor and/or partner(s) to share in the labor, the undertaking is daunting at best. Yet there are others like me- passionate, hard working, with a dream- yet alone. I have long toyed with the idea of forming a community of Veterans to farm together- a farming commune if you will- similar to the kibbutz. I grew up in a commune of sorts so the concept makes sense to me: share the dream, share the labors, share the life. When I worked for a federal agency, I found a good percentage of them were part time farmers that could not make the leap from their main job into the farm due to cost of living, debts, and other obligations. I talked to them about beginning a labor co-op of sorts- we would all help farmer X with his spring needs, then farmer Y, whose needs were in summer would have labor assistance in his time of need, and so on and so forth, with possible bartering of goods that we produced with each other. One of the issues was distance- we all lived in different parts of three counties. In any case, that idea fell to the wayside when I left and lost touch with most of them. But I'm still brainstorming the idea of the farm commune. Especially one for Veterans run by Veterans. I'm sure it's not a revolutionary idea and it might already exist in some fashion somewhere, but I'm just designing this as I go. This is an odd post to say the least, but I needed to gather and present these thoughts, if only for myself, to reflect on at a later date. I know one of my strengths is to bring people together; it's something I've done no matter where I've gone in life. So I see the possibility of closing that gap that this and other organizations find- the pooling of Human Resources- a possible calling for Yours Truly. For to commune with those that truly seek community is my greatest love. 

Life Turns

Here we are, at Thanksgiving week, and I give thanks today for life's twists and turns. Just last month I cranked out a passionate determination to be in a specific place in thirty days. It was bold, ambitious, and attention-catching; yet it was not to be. I don't write these words with any regret or sadness, just a realistic gratefulness that I recognized that path was not for me. The circumstances are hardly worth recounting here, but the over-arching theme of the change was a series of tugs and instincts that I at first ignored, and then could not deny: this was not the life making I was seeking.

Now I say life making for the term making a living in today's culture equates it with money and career. I seek to make a life. When I told those closest to me that I would no longer be pursuing the coffee shop business, a few urged me not to give up on my dream- it could work in another building, or at another time, they said. What they failed to understand is that the business itself was not the dream, but the intent of bringing local community together was and still is the essence of my dream. Bringing people together in an act of service has always been my dream, and it runs like a thread through the various positions I've filled in life. That is still very much alive.

I never refer to myself as a dreamer, but I have always loved and been loved by dreamers. They are so much more creative and expansive than I could ever hope to be. I have a recurring dream which I try to house in different boxes and configurations. At the heart are growing and producing with my own hands, and the purpose is to sustain myself and build community. It's a loose dream when penned like that, yet I know the configuration will be something quite specific, and will have plants and baking at it's center. The Gardening Service is an important piece of this. I had put aside thoughts of a farm homestead due to the common notion that farming is capital intensive, as well as labor intensive. The latter I do not mind, however I must acknowledge that I will carry the weight of this dream alone, and so, a traditional farm is perhaps not the answer. I am however, attending a Veterans Farmer Coalition conference in Syracuse next week and am very excited to discover what other veterans in agriculture are doing, as well as what opportunities might be available for me.

One thing that I will be doing this winter that I had trialed a bit the last two years is my seedling
CSA. I am again only trying it with a few friends and family, but there will be a seed list for clients to look over and choose what they would like to have in their vegetable and herb gardens next spring. I will grow the plants from seed this winter and spring, and deliver their vegetable seedlings at the appropriate planting times, as well as provide layout guidance, as some have requested. This week I am setting up my seed room, and finalizing the list of seed available for 2018.

This past month's pursuits might seem a waste of time to some, or a frivolous dream not well thought out. I accept the latter judgement, while further adding that I needed this side road. It was a learning experience on several levels. I learned my own capacity for a certain lifestyle that had I not tried, I would have always wondered. Also, it is more of a "not at this time" decision. I'll always find a way to express my entrepreneurial spirit, but I recognized with some business pursuits, other loves and life goals would have to be laid aside, and that I was not prepared to set aside my growing goals, time with my son, and accept the certain ties to debt I would have had to make to pursue the shop at this time.

While a younger me would have felt the urge to continue so as not to disappoint others or not to appear uncommitted by changing course so fast, present day me knows that the pleasure of others, while seemingly gratifying, is fleeting at best, and should never be the focus of a dream. Also, those that truly want to see your success will support any decision that you show is for your best interests, and would rather see you second guess yourself and change direction, than to never take pause and consider if the passionate charge you take is truly the long term path you should be walking.