A View Toward The Future

As we are well into our eighth foot of rain for 2010 (and our third for the current Water Year), it is a good time to sit inside and reflect on the year just past and the one to come. Actually, the way the weather has been lately, it is simply a good time to sit inside, period.

It is hard to believe as I smuck through the mud and standing water around our place doing chores in December that, only a few months ago, a little rainfall seemed like a good idea. That was during the dusty portion of our Oregon Coastal Summer – well into September – when our fine, fertile volcanic soil gets into everything and the house always seems to be full of flies. The air is often still. It is muggy and warm. The sheep are languid as they seek shade to ruminate. The grass has turned brown. The fowl are the only ones appreciative enough to find any of this useful, as they carve out shallow depressions for their dust baths and enjoy the flies, when they can catch them.

But that was then, and this is now. Today, a little rainfall still seems like a good idea, but in an academic way, not as a practical matter. The academic I appreciate each time I open the tap and drink our clean, sweet groundwater, freshly distilled by Mother Nature from Water Years past. The practical is preparing to suffer through another 10-day forecast that calls for rain and wind for two days, showers for three, a rain/snow mix followed by good old rain.

A view toward the future

Most of the weather here at Brenalan Farm comes right off the ocean – first floating up the Yaquina estuary and then up our valley. So, at least we can see what’s coming. Sometimes as I gaze off into the distance there, I imagine I am peering into the future – at least the immediate future of our weather. And right now, that crystal ball says the future is gray, very gray.

What We Are Thankful For

A few weeks ago, I read someone referring to the butcher’s visit as “the day they give back all we have given them.” That euphemism didn’t really set right with me, but has been occupying a niche in the back of my mind. And as I start prepping our Thanksgiving dinner and meals for family who will be here for a long weekend, that phrase returned.

On reflection, I think it really is a perfect description. Not because the sheep want to be seen as philanthropists. I doubt they have a highly developed sense of the future beyond sunrise and sunset, and meals appearing on schedule. But rather because it is a reminder that we too must eventually return all that is given to us. We can have and hold, love and cherish. But we cannot keep anything forever. So on this Thanksgiving, I am remembering what I am thankful for.

This has been yet another tough year financially and the coming year might be more of the same. But we have not found the blessings in our life diminished so much as we have been reminded repeatedly that the best things in life are not things. We are surrounded by family and friends we cherish, and that is the bedrock of happiness. We have found some new opportunities to try to help and serve others. Little else brings as much pleasure or meaning to a day. But that one little euphemism also reminds me to be happy that we have the following generations to whom we can pass forward the goodness currently entrusted to us. A little land and some stuff. But we also have the opportunity to return love, teachings, a lightly-used environment, maybe even a slightly improved nation and society if we work at it. So this year, let’s not just count our blessings, but think of how we can share them both now and in the future, when we too return “all we were given.”

Only Your Hairdesser Knows For Sure…

Tip for doll makers and all others interested: My limited experiment using hair color on wool was successful! That opens a new palette of colors, as many of the acid dyes for wool can be challenging to mix in those shades. Pricey, yes. Pretty, YES!

We have a limited quantity of walnut extract (water in which walnut hulls were steep since last fall) which makes a nice teddy bear brown. Using mordants such as alum (available at the food co-op and grocery stores) or iron increase the intensity and range of shades available. I have another batch of walnut dye underway, and hope to brew up some other nuts in coming weeks. As for other natural dyes, I saw a pastel chartreuse green made from Queen Anne’s Lace over alum mordant that was gorgeous with purple and burgundy accents. I tried horsetails (equisetum) for the first time, and it made a pretty yellow that was sunnier than onion skin. There is still time to gather these plants.

IF YOU WILL BE AT OFFF this weekend: The first person to visit us in the Shepherd’s Market after we show our Jacobs Saturday morning gets a surprise gift.