Vicki Lane's Blog, page 533
May 4, 2011
It Was Hubris, All Right
hu·bris/ˈ(h)yo͞obris/Noun1. Excessive pride or self-confidence.2. (in Greek tragedy) Excessive pride toward or defiance of the gods, leading to nemesis.
Too much self confidence led me to set out the maters on Tuesday -- before the 'safe ' date of May 15. Then frost and perhaps freezing temperatures were predicted for Wednesday night so John and I covered the plants with hay. Will they survive? This sudden dip in temperatures is called Blackberry Winter -- a cold snap that happens when the blackberries are in bloom. It's obviously common enough to have a name . . . what was I thinking -- defying the gods that way?
May 3, 2011
From the Farm
The iris continue to be a delight -- flashy two-tone bearded beauties...
And this shy blue-eyed grass -- a tiny wild iris.
Yesterday, I planted 48 Roma tomatoes, in spite of the fact that our traditional 'safe' date is May 15.
Was this an act of daring? Optimism? Hubris? Time will tell...
The Jersey girls seem to have decided that they're a herd of two. They are both such pets.
Silverbell, in spite of being the new girl in town, has explained to Marigold that age and size are what matter.
And, of course, beauty ...
Marigold is not impressed....
May 2, 2011
The Truth of Fiction
This isn't a FAQ post, but it's about writing.Now and then I encounter someone who simply doesn't read fiction and I'm always a bit puzzled. (I encounter quite a few who don't read mysteries and that's less puzzling -- a matter of taste. After all, I don't read romance novels or westerns as a rule -- though there are some exceptions.)
One reason I've been given for not reading fiction is "Why waste your time with something that's not true?"
I've struggled to articulate an answer. I know that my life is richer for all the (fictional) experiences I've had. Years ago, someone told my that I was an 'old soul' -- one who had lived many lives previous to this one.
"No," I said, "I just read a lot."
Just now I'm rereading High Tide in Tucson, a book of essays by Barbara Kingsolver, and in the selection titled "Jabberwocky," I found the words I was looking for to explain why fiction can be worth reading.Kingsolver says: "A novel works its magic by putting the reader inside another person's life. . . . The power of fiction is to create empathy."
The thing is, we are so besieged with bad news and horrible factual events day after day that we grow numb. Thousands of people affected by earthquakes, suicide bombs, famine, civil war -- yes, we see or hear the stories and send money or offer a prayer or don the appropriate color ribbon, or simply think "How awful . . ." and get on with our own lives.
Thousands of souls suffering is just too much to comprehend. But let us read a well-written novel about one sufferer; let us endure and learn and grow along with that character and we will stay up past our bedtime. We may even shed real tears.
Novels have the force to change minds, to incite people to action. Before the U.S.'s Civil War, the suffering of slaves in the abstract and far away South was known and deplored by mmany but what really bolstered the Abolition Movement was the suffering of the fictional Topsy and her fictional companions. Abraham Lincoln recognized this when he greeted Harriet Beecher Stowe, the author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, with the famous line -- "So this is the little lady who started this great war."
Of course, not every novel is that powerful (thank goodness!!) There's a lot to be said for reading to experience a different place, time, or life. Even if they are fictional -- they're usually firmly grounded in reality.
May 1, 2011
Green Glory
April 30, 2011
May Day Assortment
First of all, here's the cover for the fifth Elizabeth Goodweather book Under the Skin. The quote is just a place-holder till they get one for this book.I'm pretty pleased with the picture; what do you all think? You can go HERE to read an excerpt.
A flock of about fourteen turkeys was wandering around our barn yesterday, I managed to get a picture of this handsome fellow as I was on my day down the road to meet our new milk cow. A second milk cow. . . Justin has dreams of cheese-making ,... I think we need some pigs.
This is a used cow, unlike Marigold who we raised from a heifer. Silverbell is a Jersey from Yellow Branch, the same small dairy herd as Marigold. She was born six years ago at this time of year when the wild silverbell trees were in bloom.
Silverbell has just been dried up, in anticipation of a blessed event in early July. She and Marigold are curious about each other in a guarded way.
At four weeks old, the broiler chicks are at that awkward age -- part fluff and part feathers. It's cool enough at night that they still need their heat lamp.
What a beautiful month April was! There's a slide show of its highlights over at my latest Goodweather Report (a monthly newsletter/blog) if you want to check it out.
April 29, 2011
Pleasures and Treasures
A perfect day -- sunny, clear, and cool. The white irises are illuminated and even the trees sparkle in the sun.
On the edge of the woods, a native flame azalea reaches for the light.
A glistening galaxy of dandelion seed trembles just before going nova. 
And in the box beds I was weeding, I met a tiny toad.
How tiny? This tiny.The size of a large netsuke.
He looks so wise for one so small.
This shitake, on the other hand, was HUGE -- larger than my open hand.
Pleasures and treasures of a perfect day.
April 28, 2011
About Those Quilts
Star asked, concerning my Easter party pictures: "Did you make all the quilts yourself? and why do you hang them up on this occasion? Is it significant or just a form of decoration for the walls of the barn?"
The tradition of hanging up quilts at our Easter party began back in the 80's when our community of friends was in something of a quilt-making frenzy. We were cranking out group-made friendship and wedding and baby quilts for each other at a great pace and the Easter party was a perfect opportunity to show off what we'd been stitching the previous year.,
Community Quilts, the book a friend and I co-authored, tells the story of the quilts.
As time went on, the quilt making slowed. Not so many babies and lots more distractions to keep us from quilting. But we'd gotten used to seeing quilts up at Easter -- they're a nostalgia trip and they make the woodworking shop look festive.
Most years there are one or two new quilts on display -- some of the children who once received baby quilts are getting wedding quilts and grandchildren are beginning to arrive -- meaning more baby quilts.
These days, the quilts tend to be a mix of our community quilts -- old and new, antique family quilts, collected quilts, solo quilts I or my friends have made, and even (blush) a few store-bought quilts from China. (There's one in the background of the first picture.)
Folks say it's like seeing an old friend when we hang a quilt we all worked on twenty or so years ago.
Our friend Bob (the original of Doc Adams in the Elizabeth Goodweather books) always comes over Saturday afternoon to deal with the fiddly job of hanging the quilts.
Quilts at the Easter party -- part of the tradition, just like the barbecued pork and the egg hunt. 
These pictures are from several Easters -- not just the most recent.
April 27, 2011
Taciturn Thursday
April 26, 2011
Groundhog Young Uns
As I was driving down the road yesterday, a scurry of movement below the big barn caught my eye.
Four Three bold young groundhogs, venturing out to take the air.
The lush green grass is calling...
One cautious sibling stays behind. 
April 25, 2011
The Day After
The party's over... The barn that was so full of life and color yesterday . . .
. . .is empty. Time to pull down the crepe paper, fold up the quilts . . . Time to inventory leftover plates, cups, and party necessities; to make a shopping list for next year's party (more balloons); and to return the wood working shop to its true purpose. . .
The beer keg is all but empty; the cider keg is gone; and Shopping Cart Lady has only a few cups left... Party's over.
