Wildenblue Farm in Upstate New York, United States
~Wildenblue Farm is the name of my small organic homestead. (I no longer have sheep & goats, only an assortment of chickens, ducks, geese & guinea hens.) I also grow organic herbs, flowers, fruits & vegetables and sell organic eggs on the honor-system from an old outhouse my dad built years ago. Wildenblue Farm is also the name which lends itself to our (my mom, daughter and I) primitive country creations. I have always had a place in my heart for the old days & old ways. I love antiquing & tag sales, crows, gardening, baking and learning about how things were done long ago. ~Laura of Wildenblue Farm
I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow-creature, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again. ~StephenGrellet 1773-1855
Excerpts from A Country Pathway
I come upon it suddenly, alone- A little pathway winding in the weeds That fringe the roadside; and with dreams my own, I wander as it leads.
Full wistfully along the slender way, Through summer tan of freckled shade and shine, I take the path that leads me as it may- Its every choice is mine
A chipmunk, or a sudden- whirring quail, Is startled by my step as on I fare- A garter-snake across the dusty trail Glances and- is not there.
Above the arching jimson-weeds flare twos And twos of sallow-yellow butterflies, Like blooms of lorn primroses blowing loose When autumn winds arise.
The trail dips- dwindles- broadens then, and lifts Itself astride a cross-road dubiously, And, from the fennel marge beyond it, drifts Still onward, beckoning me.
Why, I am as a long-lost boy that went At dusk to bring the cattle to the bars, And was not found again, though Heaven lent His mother all the stars.
And lo! through the mists that may not be dispelled, I see an old farm homestead, as in dreams, Where, like a gem in costly setting held, The old log cabin gleams.
Oh, darling Pathway! lead me bravely on Adown your valley-way, and run before Among the roses crowding up the lawn And thronging at the door,-
And carry up the echo there that shall Arouse the drowsy dog, that he may bay The household out to greet the prodigal That wanders home to-day.
*family & friends
*autumn, then winter
*books by Beth Powning
*old cobalt blue bottles
*poems by James Whitcomb Riley
*the gift of memories and rememberances
*LOTS of snow
*kayaking, hiking, snowshoeing
*tag sales & flea markets
*antique & primitive things
*did I mention chocolate?
*poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson
One crow sorrow
Two crows joy
Three crows a girl
Four crows a boy
Five crows silver
Six crows gold
Seven crows a secret
never to be told
Eight crows a wish
Nine crows a kiss
Ten crows a time
of joyous bliss
For you, dear friends...
Friends, I will
think of you and
pray for you,
And when another
day is through,
I'll still be friends
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Saturday drive through Brant Lake, NY and surrounding areas