A different Season of Christmas this year.....

This shall be a different Season for our household. It has been medically recommended that I avoid close contact with people, crowds so that I don't become a host for any more germs or problems. I have several serious health problems and appear to be a friendly host that invites germs and medical problems to live in my welcoming body....I know that it will be a big no no for church or any gatherings where there's not a lot of space and open air around me. I shall so miss the companionship of family and friends. For those of you whom I usually hug, just remember I cannot right now! Although it's only been a matter of hours that I've been told I need to self impose a basic isolation, I cry a small bit about it, no laying on the bed, whaling out loud, just the little pattering of a few tears.

Although the self imposed quarantine is time limited. I know I will not or rather I say I pray I will not always be this frail, I can only imagine how someone would feel if they were invisible to the rest of the world. I can so empathize with bubble babies who have such serious problems that they never come into direct contact with others.

I miss people,especially at this time of year. I love to sing the Christmas songs, share the festivities and rejoice...I do need to remember that I do have a piano lovingly moved from our other house and music and so this might be a time to play some tunes... I love to sing with choirs, I shall listen to them from tapes and cd's or at a distance. I feel like there's the glass wall between me and the rest of the world. I'm in a prison called "My Frailty" I shall take this time to do things differently - maybe write down memories of Christmas's gone by....Since I'm over 40 smile, I better get busy because there have been quite a few Christmases that I remember. This too shall pass. I cannot believe that God wants me to live like this the rest of my life... But should that be the case, I'm open to hear where He shall lead me.

Well, it's time to go in the kitchen now and look for the ingredients for a simple soup, some homemade sourdough bread and salad. May we all remember to be grateful for our health most of all and treasure these temples God has given us and be more concerned about the state of our physical well being than the state of the clothing or jewelry or shoes which may adorn it....

My man, his dog and the little puppy!

The Garry Farm has a special friend named Ken who runs an organic farm in Tallapoosa. Last year we bought a little puppy from him who was raised by one of Ken's adult females and that little puppy learned how to keep turkey safe from predators.

Well we got the call about 3 months ago that the very same adult female needed to be rehomed as she was digging out and was very bored without enough animals to raise!!! So we got her and was told that there would likely be a baby on the way....She was bred too young (before Ken owned her) and apparently that set our biological clock for a small litter, that she normally had 3 or less litters.

Jacque thought that mother didn't need a welping box. I begged for one and when He found mother and baby cozied in under some weeds, but no trees and no real shelter, he set to work immediately on a large box.....project completed just in time as the rains came in that evening.

This is a beautiful picture of Puppy who is now for adoption. Very Clearly both Mother Dog and Jacque are very proud of the puppy....

A 4 year old Elvis impersonator

Why is it that certain memories never leave us? I was four years old in kindergarten at the Home Park School in Atlanta...It was Monday morning.... (I don't know what date, but certainly still remember this after all the decades).....

My teacher was playing the piano as our little class and the 2 other kindergarten classes were also in assembly in the giant auditorium of Home Park School in Atlanta (It now is the Center for Puppetry Arts, last I visited) She asked, "Are there were any songs that we boys and girls wanted to hear?"

Those of you who know me well, can predict the next even....Well, I shot my hand in the air and jumped up and down with great enthusiasm that day. She asked what I wanted to sing .....I said "ain't nothing but a hound dog"....

Mrs. Peeples, said "well, I don'tknow that song, but if you hum it first, maybe I can play it.....It sounds nice." Well, I hummed loudly.... and then she started playing the piano.....I did a very good impression of the guitar playing of Elvis, the wild singing and facial gestures but the real kickers was when I started doing the Elvis twist.....The piano music stopped. My teacher and all of her very large personage (at least it seemed very large to a 45 pound small child) dragged me to the principals office by my arms while swatting my backside . She also told the class what a very bad girl I was. I remember not even being able to touch the ground at one point. She was a very strong and stern teacher and just terrified me that day ....and the ones that followed.

The principal was equally upset. I was put then in a corner in a chair while I waited for my mother to come and get me. Dad had the car and she walked the long way there. She saw the tears and told the principal that the girls were in bed. But I said I had cracked open the door and gone to see the TV behind them because I liked hounddogs......Well, the principal didn't smile but I could see my ordinarily sedate Mom mouth twitch but I thought she was going to laugh at any minute. (You see I had seen the world famous tv introduction of Elvis on the tv on the Ed Sullivan show!)

I was suspended from school for 3 days..... That was fine with me. I never wanted to go back....That was the day (the second week of my formal school - that my burst of childish enthusiasm for public learning died and the great enthusiasm for being at school. I felt embarrassed, shamed, mistreated and scared, never knowing what next would happen at the school that I saw as a Giant Scary Castle like in the Wizard of Oz....).....My Dad did place a note in the file and told both the Principal and my teacher, that there would be no more corporal punishment by the school - that they as parents would be responsible for that and yes, I still got parental doses as needed. I spent many days the rest of that year trying to avoid school...Those tummy pains I think were quite real...Eventually we moved and I went to a new school where I could "blossom intellectually and creatively" .Don't worry I completed many more years of schooling including college but only because my parents so encouraged it.

Never underestimate the spirit of a small child, how you can encourage it or discourage it or the influence of music to catch our imagination and spirit! Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could just imagine what is in the mind and spirit of those we don't understand.

It's all in a day's work......

Milking at 4:00 am or say 4:30 am to get ready for a trip into town....

I have strangers who drive up wanting to get advice of under anything under the son, not just farming, it's okay, it's part of being human. Maybe I could just show them a bit of how much God loves them. When allowed/asked I pray with visitors or give a shoulder....It's my privilege...If that stop by takes 10 minutes or an hour, so be it....

When life watching the animals is so much better than watching any television show.
When the guineas circle the house 15 times at exactly 5 pm and then run like maniacs to the woods...What's that about??.... Are they saying hello or just telling me it's time to go milking!!! Farming has its funny moments. Its laughter at times like this. Its moments of extreme hardship like 10 days of frozen land and hand carrying hundreds of gallons of warm water so 400 animals do not perish. Sadness in seeing a beloved member of the farm family die in childbirth that the best of vets cannot save.... Extreme joys of rescuing baby bunnies in the throes of dying or visually dead by warming them up slowly and working for as long as an hour or more with them in front of a wood burning stove to save it.

Getting dressed in a hurry only to find out, once you've gone to town in an errand to find out that your shirt is not only inside out but backwards....Why I always keep an extra jacket in the car.....

Why a rubberband is my best fashion accessory..... If I haven't found the hair brush yet, it holds that wild woman hair look down....

Why the customer's need is always first. I just got ONE fresh duck egg for a customer, forgetting to change shoes, nearly sliding into the fragrant duck pen and laughing all the time.....

When someone calls and has a problem with an animal, I'll help them, it's okay, we don't charge for that...... When someone has a problem with incubating, I'll help them learn to calibrate a hygrometer and a thermometer so they can have better hatches, whether they are buying our eggs or someone else's. I'll never get rich but I'm here to help.

When I'm asked what vintage shop I buy my clothes.... I just answer, "Oh they're in my closet or You're too funny, I have shoes that are older than you!" I never say boots because we wear off our boots in about 1 year at about 10 miles a day.

Why love must be the operating principal in a full time farmer's life.... When a person comes by at a market and says...."Whewee you must be proud of your vegetables, $1.50 for fresh potatoes, I can get them for less." I bite my tongue not to say yes, but a bargain now is not a bargain for your health now or later. After I explained we farm for a living - our only way of living and farmed chemical free. I just smiled benevolently at him and didn't tell him his potatoes from that bargain store were sprayed so they wouldn't sprout, and 10 10 10'd to death... "I just said Oh you can taste the difference in our vegetables and he said he couldn't afford them. Then asked if we take charge cards. We don't and won't. He opens his new Leather wallet with hands that look manicured and looks through a stack of $20's and says he better not??? He left market, lit a cigarette and started up a new Mercedes and opened a can of Coca Cola.... I could have found him several ways to save money and get $3 worth of potatoes.... But I realize many think farmers should just price their food as if it were 20 years ago...That we come to market as a hobby..and should give away our work.Poor man will drive to his store, leave the airconditioning on for his dog he leaves in the car, get ready made stuff and shake his head and tell his friends about those expensive potatoes..... I never defend our prices .... Just smile and give them a look of compassion/pity.... I did offer that if he wanted to volunteer to work on our farm side by side that we pay our volunteers with farm knowledge and hands on experience and fresh veggies....He looked at me like I was insane... I gave him a card and told him to call me sometime.

But life is always different, minute by minute.... The general agenda can be set, but flexibility is key... If vegetables don't sell, they are frozen, prepared, shared, canned, but never waster.... Plans are made and real farmers will can in a 110 degree kitchen and just say, it's all in a day's work.

Well, baby goats are crying for their bottle, it's time to go outdoors and my rest writing is over. I'm so blessed by seeing the change in the seasons, the wonderful friends and fellow farmers, our supportive community, learning that I can do things far beyond my age or physical stamina through the help of many, but most of all by leaning on the Lord. He is my strength and salvation, my ever present source of comfort... My all in all........

Blessed by a husband who loves this City Girl who's gone full Country and would be content to be on the farm all her remaining days, but does have to venture to town occasionally and leave this wonderful place called The Garry Farm.........

Sleeping on a Bed of Nails

As a child I was fascinated when reading about different countries and customs. I checked out books about Albert Schweitzer, Archeology, and every foreign nation I could find. I wasn’t sure if I just wanted to see them all or convert or serve every nation, or just eat the food there. But I read and reread my fathers volumes of National Geographics. and there of many wonders I uncovered, I was fascinated to learn of people who put themselves in a trance and were able to sleep on a bed of nails. Well I never was brave enough to do that but often thought about those pictures and wondered how they stood that pain or if they felt it at all….Well, I lived in Atlanta at that time but with my heart in rural Alabama, I would share bits and pieces of my acquired knowledge of the world apart from the mountain…

Always a story weaver, I would show them the pictures (if I still had the library books, or I would smuggle a copy of my Father’s treasured National Geographics. I had a vivid imagination and thought about what kind of magic or spell could be cast that would cause a person to do such a scary thing…. When I showed the pictures to my country buddies, they would say, “That there guy, he just ain’t right”. Their mothers said, “Poor thing, he’s tetched in his head”. Since every one wasn’t as worldly as I, some even said, well he’s surely sick, look at his poor head and of course they were referring to his turban.

Well, I told my passel of country cousins and friends I wanted to make a bed of nails, they just shook their heads and just left me alone. They made allowances for my city breeding…. So I decided to recreate the happening. I looked around in my Granny’s barn and saw nothing that looked like a bed of nails…No such luck, but I did find a broken board and a hammer with a broken handle and a little snuff tin full of old nails that had been saved along the way. I learned quickly although I was very little, that as I hammered my fingers and a few nails into the old board and then found I had not planned well, as I hammed them into the top of an box, that I would never have a bed of nails. I would never know if I could fall asleep on a nail of beds this day in my life!

Back then there were not warnings in magazines or on tv or in books to “NOT try this without adult supervision” or other warnings….Yes, in the country there was never a lack of things to do. There were acorns that waiting to be turned into a tea set. There were places to explore that never got digital photographs or photographs of any kind…..berries to pick, jam and jelly to test for Granny, tin roofs to slide off, cookies to make from scraps of Granny's pie crusts, creeks to jump….. watching spiders write their names on their webs…. No phones carried on me texted or phoned interrupted me. No computer lured me to some urgent e mail, report or other such temporary thing. Discovery of arrowheads waited…Each day was new to me and a time of joy and exploration. Here’s praying every one has time off from their technology…time to plan, read, do, dream, hear, learn, renew, rest, vegetate, time to be….We need that more than ever in our over wired society.….There’s a whole world out there for us all…. Thank you Lord that I was not a child of technology.

A land flowing with milk and honey

"Exodus 3:8 And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey."

The phrase came to me today, this beautiful Sunday, May 29, 2011.... A warm day but not a hot one....We're closed to the public for sales, and praising God and rejoicing in our blessings and spending special time thinking, pondering, learning and growing, and listening and reading His word.

Having spent the morning with the goats tending them, and all the animals, and then pouring up part of the recent honey into jars, this verse comes to my soul.

I think back now of coming to this small farm in Bowdon so many years ago, going through the years of looking for a farm place that would be called our farm home... Where we could garden and be in a small, peaceful and Godly community where we could grow in our faith and better serve Him. He called us to the place with a name we'd never known because after all our self directed efforts, He just brought us here, when there was no where else to turn and in our praying He heard our heartfelt desire. We knew the minute we arrived God had led us here. A place I first spelled as Bowdown...And truly it fits our situation. We had been wandering around Georgia and Alabama and even looking further out and He placed us here in His Time. When I see the beauty around me, the bees drinking nectar from the honeysuckle and vegetable blooms, when I milk the goats, my soul has turned to this Bible Verse. Thank you Lord for your bountiful Love and that You give us What We need in Your time....

Remembering Mother!

Mother's Day.............A time to remember Mother.

I had a wonderful Mother. She was always so well organized, well read, well prepared, well dressed, loving and giving. She had a card file for recipes, shopping lists, birthdays, everything... She didn't fit my idea of a woman who grew up on the farm, but I didn't know her very well, until I left home and I became a mother. I never knew until I was grown that she was the first child of her family to graduate from college. She went to school in a one room school but that never stopped her.

My phone was my link to mother. I called her with requests of many kinds, for recipes of butter cookies from long ago.

I called her when a 6 year old sat on a pencil on a school bus and the pencil lead broke off in her. I called her when I was so sick or so tired or so discouraged.
I wrote her cards...I took pictures...When I lived away from town, I came to see her but not nearly enough.

When I had not heard from her on the phone in a long time, my Father called me to tell me of my Mother's decline, of her massive loss of weight, of her depression after she lost both her daughter and then her granddaughter in such a short period of time. Of her loss of connecting with others. I rushed home to find a mother who no longer wanted to live. She had lost her way and was suffering so.

But I prefer to think of my mother as the delightful, cheerful mother who let me go shopping with her, as she tested new lipsticks, I tried on hats just across from her and as I modeled them with my silly little girlish charm, I was just the clown in the hat department. I catered the ones with flowers and large brims, but I was also in love with smaller hats looking like they had real bird nest in them! She looked so beautiful when she went to church, gloved and shining and perfect hair and that charming Southern smile that was so genuine.

I remember how she would let me lick that wonderful batter bowl. Or make "her kitchen" so dirty as I made iced cookies with more powdered sugar on the floor than on the frosty. How I could play the Beatles records and do a loud sing a long. How she never fussed and only laughed (at home, away from school) when she had to pick me up from kindegarten after I danced way too much and twisted for the whole class (after seeing Elvis sing on the Lawrence Welk Show)...

I know I was quite a lot of a child to raise from infancy to young adulthood. My imaginative attitude toward life, coupled with the Joy of Living must have challenged her beyond belief. My thinking more like a "boy" than a Girl. My wanting to change the world in one day!

Momma, you've been gone from this earth for over a decade. I miss you daily and remember you with much love and laughter. Thanks for giving me such a base of love and prayer, faith, and hope! For tolerating me. For tending me and mothering me past those first 18 years! You will always be perfect in my eyes, heart, soul and mind! You blessed me and many. You are not forgotten...

I love you and know that someday we will meet again... I warn you my earthly hands are rough and nails are dirty and I have the markings of a farmer woman....I went to live the life you left and our family has come full circle. I love farming. It is my calling and my passion. But I understand when you had to pick that cotton that made your hands bleed and hurt and your small back ache as you carried that ever increasing load. I know it must have been so hard for you, when what you wanted to do is fill your hands with a book or a pen and a pad of paper... What a sacrifice you made. What a woman you were. I thank you always.

You taught me love and sacrifice and joy and so much more..