Among Other Things, a Great Dog Story

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Sophie, seen here restocking our Flower Essence boxes, is no longer the newest person on our staff.

Our newest staff member, Masaki Schuette joined us in September to help us with shipping. When not at the farm, she lives in the village of Meriden with her husband Lee and three year old twins Yuki and Koa.

We have Former staff goddess Vicki Ramos-Glew to thank for introducing us to Masaki. Vicki told us we would love Masaki and we do!

Masaki is from Omagari City near Akita in northern Japan. She met her husband Lee in the Seattle airport. When Masaki and Lee met, she was working in a hotel in Banff, British Columbia but was on vacation with friends from Japan in transit from Alaska to Boston.

She met Lee because he was traveling with his beautiful golden retriever, Banjo. Masaki went over to say hello to Banjo and then met Lee. They all got on the same flight east and met up again during a layover in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport.

And so the world turns on the charm of a golden retriever, as well it should. And we are glad! Welcome Masaki!

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The Pause that Refreshes

I hear America singing. I hear a toilet running.

Our water is hard, full of lovely calcium that makes it taste good.

This calcium also means that white stuff precipitates just about everywhere. Places like teapots and toilets and sometimes Flower Essence droppers.

The calcium in the toilets means that factotum Jim has been fiddling around with our toilets ever since he built our house, working hard to keep them flushing well, with as little water as possible.

The latest toilet, which arrived six months ago to much ecological fanfare, was installed in the bathroom used by all the staff. It was described by the manufacturer as a wonder of modern toilet engineering, poised to singlehandedly halt global warming. So little water would do so much work. And with six or so women using the toilet every day, it needed to be a workhorse of an ecological marvel.

We were as excited as six or so women can get about a toilet. We thought our new toilet was part of the solution.

Oh well, who can blame us for dreaming?

And it was a dream, because frankly, this ecological wonder of a toilet is a lemon.

Right after installation, we had to fiddle with a little pole in the back of the toilet in order to get the toilet to flush. This was an off and on dodgy problem for a couple of months despite Jim’s repairs, replacement of parts, and in-services to us about our pole pushing technique.

In October, the toilet went off the tracks a bit more dramatically and gave us a month of pauses that refresh.

During October, whenever the toilet was flushed, each of us had to stand facing the exposed water tank at the back of the toilet and watch it fill. This was meant to be the pause that refreshes part, each of daydreaming for a peaceful moment while we waited for the toilet to begin its malfunction. After the pause, when the filled toilet began to have water continue to pour in, we had to push down on some thingamajig to get it to shut off manually.

The only thing that I can say for this activity is that it has given us all a lot of time to look at the bathroom as a man would and to enjoy the art I hung on the back walls for the men at the farm to enjoy. Manyly art like a rooster crowing at dawn and a cow preparing to head butt another animal.

As we faced the back of the toilet and got a new view on things, what did we learn?

Precious little, I fear
Meanwhile plumber Jim is now on a first name basis with Brandi back at toilet headquarters.

He calls her on such a regular basis that she knows his address off the top of her head. Even yesterday, new toilet innards came from Brandi. The replacement part this time was the third flush valve Brandi has sent us. The note inside said that this one REALLY was going to fix the problem and yet…..

I hear a toilet running.

Won’t Jim be pleased when he gets home from his first shift as a sixth grade teacher to find out he needs to drain the toilet AGAIN and take that back tank apart AGAIN during his second shift.

And he thought he might get to work one shift today?

Somedays, I am sure a return to outhouses seem like a very good idea to Jim.

I think today is going to be one of those days.

C’est la Vie. C’est la Guerre

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Recently, May May began to return home from her neighborhood rambles with a lone glove of unknown origin. She would tell me “C’est tombe de ciel.”

After several days, she had brought home a black glove, a brown glove, a red glove, a kid glove, and a glove with fur cuffs. This loot did NOT feel like things falling from the sky.

Then she came home four days in a row with doggie toys of assorted sizes and shapes. I asked her where these toys were coming from and she said, “Je l’ai eu pour une bouchee de pain.” I said, “I doubt you got this for a mouthful of bread and why on earth are you suddenly speaking to me in french all the time?”

The next day, in answer to my questions, she returned with an elegant boot. I told May May, “Je ne suis pas ne hier. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know that boot.”

I went next door chez Teddy with May May’s haul and my apologies.

I knew May May had to be raiding Teddy’s home because Teddy is the only one on this hilltop that dresses like she just got off an ocean liner from a trip to Paris.

Ahhhhh Teddy. Teddy has style. Teddy has savoir faire. Teddy has that je ne sais quoi that I will never have. Few of us will. Teddy is more french than the french. She will always be my definition of chic.

It’s more than just the way she dresses. It’s the way she does everything. As I carried May May’s loot to her door, I knew my visit to her house to apologize for May May would include a fragrant cup of interesting tea, some divine, beautifully plated treat and many moments of beauty thanks to her table, the set of her windows in her charming kitchen, and the way she fills her home with beautiful fruits and flowers.

Of course, a visit to Teddy is also a visit with her dogs. As she would say, “Qui m’aime aime mon chien.” Only in this case, to love Teddy is to love her three dogs. And really, given her love of all things french, it’s no surprise that these three are miniature french poodles.

And also no surprise, given what we know about May May, that she loves to tease this coterie of poodles.

To give May May some credit, she is very polite when she runs into this trio of french attitude out on the road. She gets very submissive and lets them jump all over her. This works for the neighborhood because it means none of us have to worry about May May hurting one of the trio.

However, when the poodle trio is stuck on Teddy’s glassed in front porch and unable to get outside to run May May off, well then….. May May likes to sass them. Strut around right outside the porch where they can see her but can’t get to her. What can I say? It’s the oldest dog game on earth. Na na na na na na!

When May May is sassing them, they respond as any self respecting french poodle would. Lots of attitude and barking. All of us in the office can hear the noise from a quarter of a mile away. When we hear that racket, we know what that chorus of three dogs barking means…… May May is torturing the trio…… and probably getting ready to take a souvenir of her adventure. We can almost hear her asking herself, “What shall I take today?” Chacun son gout and we all know May May and Teddy’s taste runs to gloves.

As I handed Teddy back her gloves, boot, and dog toys, she laughed, indicating, “C’est ne pas grande chose”. She also noted that May May had truly outdone herself over the weekend.

Early on Sunday morning, the poodle trio of Winnie, Muffin, and Curly had begun to bark but wouldn’t stop. At first, Teddy thought, C’est toujours la meme refrain” ie its got to be May May doing her usual torture dance outside the window. But the barking did not cease so Teddy felt compelled to check out what particular brand of torture May May was practicing.

Comme un chien dans un jeu de quilles, May May had snuck into Teddy’s home. Like a dog in a game of nine pins. she had pushed open the door to the porch, helped herself to a hearty snack of the poodles’ gourmet food, and then gone to sleep on their couch!

What a sensible dog! Let’s face it, we’d ALL like to eat over at Teddy’s and then settle in for a nap on her wonderfully comfortable couch on her wonderfully comfortable front porch. Of course the dog food is better at Teddy’s than at our house. Of course the couch is more comfortable than any bed at our house. Teddy’s motto is, “Even if NOT in Paris, dress like a Parisian, live like a Parisian, and feed your dogs like a Parisian”.

May May will stop these raids ‘Quand les poules auront des dents.” And until hens DO have teeth, I will be slipping over to offer my apologies, suffering through one fabulous snack after another, then resting in her cosy living room feeling loved and pampered.

Let’s face it, at Teddy’s house, nous sommes tous dans la meme bain. And what a lovely bath to all be sharing! May May knows just what she’s doing and it works for me too!

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Here is Muffin examining the scene of the break in. Muffin reports that May May has learned how to open this door handle!

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Here Winnie and Muffin discuss the tragedy of May May violating their couch. They look heartbroken , don’t they?

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Under duress, Curly joins the rest of the clan to discuss the case. If that look isn’t a searing indictment of May May, I don’t know what is.
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And May May? That is the fakest look of chagrin ever caught on a mug shot.

In fact, I just heard her whisper in my ear, ‘Le champ est libre.” Good news this! The coast is clear. I can let her out to go get another glove that I will have to return. After all, it’s a cold, rainy day and I feel like a nice cup of tea.

Fall Happens

At night, the clouds have been saturated purples and blues, colors so typical of autumn skies.

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With only a few frosts under our belt, the Cosmos close to the house keep blooming.
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Riley takes a moment to enjoy the Flowers without MayMay bugging him.

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The apple crop has been phenomenal. We eat apples morning, noon, and night and there are still more to harvest, store, freeze, or can as applesauce. Here is the ground beneath a couple of wild apple trees at the top of our driveway. The turkeys and deer should be able to find plenty of food this winter.

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I am back at the cider press again. Pear mush is just a dim memory as our freezer fills with gallons of lovely apple cider and our stovetop has a pot of simmering hot mulled cider on it. Not that we need warming drinks. It’s been in the seventies and eighties here.

Nonetheless, the leaves are changing color and looking spectacular as the do so. And we are enjoying every bright leaf.
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Wearing Red

Emily has come and she has gone. While she was in the building, I hovered around her like a honeybee to her Flower. I savored the additional household clutter. Wasn’t it nice to see that big pile of laundry? I relished the sweet sounds of her feet pounding around upstairs with William. I listened with delight to the music of her epic showers and found strange joy in her critique of our water pressure. It was all good. So wonderfully good. And then, she was back to school and I was back glued to game seven, a card carrying member of Red Sox Nation.

Today, in the wake of “our” triumph, I muse, “Wednesday is only three nights away. Will “our” men be rested?” Now I wonder, “How good is this upstart Colorado team that was bottom of the league only last year?” Now I consider, “Will “we” play four, five, six or seven games against the Rockies?”

That disinterested little half baked Red Sox nut has flowered into a big nut.

Caught in the fever pitch of the playoffs, by the time the dust settles and the world series are over, I’ll probably be sporting a wad of chewing tobacco and Red Sox regalia from head to toe. Certainly, I will don the requisite BoSox cap per Will and Jim’s instructions. And maybe Ben will lend me his 2004 World Series t-shirt…… Maybe not. After all, he needs to wear this in order for “us” to win.

And all this inner hoopla is because William bugged me to keep knitting at his side while he watched the playoffs….

What started out as keeping the men company during their interminable sports viewing has become well, actually of interest.

Life is like that, isn’t it?

I like Flowers so I begin a garden. I make more gardens because I like the first one I make. In these gardens, I listen to a gorgeous Cosmos Flower who wants me to make some strange thing called a “Flower Essence.” I make a Flower Essence from its lovely petals and I am enchanted by the results. Then I make more. A lot more. Soon my pantry is so full of Flower Essences there is no place for food. Soon, I have an inventory of eight or nine hundred Flower Essences, several buildings dedicated to Flower Essences and a UPS truck that roars down our hill each day laden with packages to all of you.

What an unexpected adventure Life turns out to be! A big, messy, unexpectedly diverse, generous, humorous, continuous, surprise party!

This week I will attend this party wearing red!

As a community of Flowers, Angels, Nature Spirits, Dogs, Cats and even some People, Green Hope Farm can be a funny place……and I love telling you all about it!