daisy clover

before the bush hogger comes, field flowers are rescued


not photoshopped! held up against the late afternoon sky


the half moon over the field on the final recon

Trout's day out

got a farm truck today!

we welcome into our family of quirky rides this lovely 1977 ford ranger 100. a vintage pick-up which will be my future business address. looks blue doesn't it? its primer gray. we haven't decided whether to paint it the original green or white, but we do know that we will be going the el cheapo route a la maaco or earl sheib. how likely is it that after a few months of looking we found this 9 miles from chickory? it was clearly meant to be.

we bought it from a fellow who traded for it with another fellow who said it had been sitting in a chicken house for 8 years. looked like it too. ive never seen so much mud and dirt and grime in a car. as we looked it over, i wished i had brought gloves or even some purell hand sanitizer.

The seats and dash overflowed with "millionaire lucky bucks" scratch-off lottery tickets -the 2 dollar kind. i asked the guy "have you ever won any money with these things?" i about fell over when he told me that, yes, he had won $5000 dollars, $1000 dollars twice, $500 a couple of times. he said his wife also looks over tickets she finds in trash cans and finds winners there too -apparently some people do not realize that if you have a "buck" you dont need to match it with a number you are already a winner.

as you can see, the truck came with some entertaining after market decorations. I will most likely replace the georgia state flag license plate with my own plate featuring Little Yellow Jacket, a champion bucking bull. I loved the surprise interior featuring a bass superimposed over the rebel flag -or stars n bars if you prefer - and the required georgia bulldog seat covers. the seats are the bench kind -we had fun playing country lovers as we sat close to each other with trout riding shotgun while we test drove.

V taught me about pumping the non power brakes and to sort of pull up on the shifter as i changed gears. i found this far more to my liking than the truck we tried yesterday -a 1967 ford with a column style shifter i knew was too too much for me. i was, and am quite concerned about what we are going to find under that seat cover. we are going to have to stop by home depot tomorrow so i can buy a hasmat suit and goggles before we get too deep into detailing this baby.

the preliminary cleaning we did this afternoon took a while -probably due to the fact that i would pick things slowly and carefully out of the truck with just the very tips of my fingers, taking care to let as little surface touch me as possible as i placed each piece of funky human flotsam into a trash bag. the aroma of the truck was part white owl cigar and part mexican knife fight cologne and part christmas tree deodorizer. finally we got to the point where we could hose out the interior and it started to look and smell much better.

the 8-ball shifter probably wont last past the trip to the auto part store tomorrow. V really likes that the truck is actual old-timey metal and heavy and that the chrome shined up well. that worries me a bit -he likes "project cars" and i worry if he does too much with it, it will get "precious" and he wont let anybody actually use it; only admire it and wipe it with a diaper. "no no no -remember?" said i, "this is a FARM truck -a beater! we use it to haul and pick up stuff. and for me to look cute in when i pull into the farmers market. we'll affix my chickory logo on the door".

the terminator door locks grinned at me as i convinced V that replacing the bed because of the rust was unnecessary. he thought the lock was a skeleton; but with the red glowing eyes it was obvious it was not a mere skeleton, but the dreaded machine from the future. it locks doors. thats all it does. it never stops. until you are locked in. for good.

an eastern tiger swallowtail flitted by and landed on the forest floor. its path and landing was as light as my heart. i thought that V wasn't all that on board with me on the whole "integrated life of art and nature and farm and field" because he doesnt say much about it or want to come to chickory that often. but spending weeks on the truck search and finding the truck and making sure it was safe and fun IS how he says he is on board.

i cant wait take him on an old fashioned date to the swan drive in theater - one of the last drive in theaters in the US and it is right here in blue ridge! we'll throw a couple of lawn chairs in the truck bed and pull in backwards. we'll take a cooler with a great picnic -hopefully including something i grew- and i will spoil him with adoring looks, the occasional smooch and my eternal and deep appreciation for understanding who and what i am.

*update on Trout's eyes: her eye pressure is now in the normal range! we may be stopping the prednisone soon and dropping to one drop a day and then take another measurement. we cant just stop because if it really is glaucoma, pressure can build very rapidly and she could lose her eyesight. i am very encouraged. thanks to all who asked about her.

luna

native to temperate broadleaf deciduous forests

"a new world is coming down from on high"

As i worked on my garden i would get tired and want to cut corners. i would say to myself -many times during the day- "don't get lazy". If i did, i knew it would show later and it would be as disappointing as a weak painting.

i began to realize that the garden is a project that would extend far beyond this spring and would transcend soil sky and water. The garden will in some ways reflect my character and that this solitary work is a kind of spiritual journey. When i built the bean teepees from fallen limbs of poplar i saw my garden structure take on a familiar vibe: that of the southern folk art yard. The rawness and "make-do" imperfection of it pleased me. As i mined rocks out of the soil i stacked them to be used later as edging decorations. I thought about the scarecrow i would make, and how i might use mirrored garlands to discourage creatures from foraging in the garden plot. what kind of whirly gig could i make? what junk do i have laying around that i can use to build some structure into this flat patch of dirt? In this regard i reflected often on the Reverend Howard Finster, maker of sacred art.

Most people know Finster from his painting on the cover of the Talking Head's "Little Creatures" album. In this image you see some typical Finster elements: man (in this case, David Byrne) holding up the world, churches, living clouds, UFO's, cheetahs and snakes and figures in prayerful poses.

I started going up to his fantastical 4 acre Pennville Georgia yard known as "paradise garden" when i was in college. we made pilgrimages to see Finster where he would hold court with his many visitors. The house would have giant portraits of such icons as Elvis, George Washington, Hank Williams, St. John, the Devil, and Jesus hanging on the outside; all would be on the same level -both pop icon and meta-physical figures -for the reverend would say that they could deliver the word of God with equal measure. that there were many roads to the source and that they all lead to the same place.

The garden was the most amazing repurposing of junk i have ever seen: paths made of tools and toys embedded into concrete which might lead to a reflecting pool, a mirrored grotto or a tower of broken bicycles. Inside the mirrored grotto you were asked to reflect on your sins and repent as you studied your face fractured in the reflective shards.

Sheds were covered in scripture and old hubcaps; cut outs of angels and devils reminded one that Jesus was returning -and soon. Of course, soon on God's time is very different than our notion of soon; in other words, possibly not imminent. Old junk cars were decorated with faces of the famous, more scripture and statements of Finsters personal theology. Classic southern bottle trees dotted the landscape which were overshadowed by giant painted coke bottles. You'd look in a bush and see dismembered doll heads, now angels with some kind of junk fabric dress. You can see a lot of photos from Paradise Garden here .

In a way, Finster was kind of like Van Gogh in that he had a notion of being a preacher first. His grandfather had been one, and i recall seeing a photograph of Finster baptizing people in a river in Mentone Alabama. Looking at this flyer he made for a tent revival he was already promising the addition of visual aids :


But the story goes that while he was painting a bike he had repaired, he looked at one of his thumbprints in white paint, and that image told him to "make sacred art". and so he did. he never questioned his worthiness to do so, or even how to begin. in fact, how he did begin was to pull out a dollar bill and paint a portrait of George Washington.

one of the coolest Finster creations was the "World Folk Art Church" which is a white frame church in the round with an interior spiral ramp upward. I was blown away by the thousands of tin pieces that hung from the eaves that turned in the wind flashing light making the church appear to be alive and moving. what a brilliant technique to convey just that: a place where the Word was alive.

Soon the art dealers and museums made him into an icon and things went down hill. he had become the cash cow for an entire family and to fill orders a kind of assembly line was created where shaped figures were cranked out to meet the ever growing collector demand. After his death, family members sold off much of the garden and the better paintings and allowed the High Museum in Atlanta to dismantle parts of Paradise Garden for a gallery space where it appears lifeless and garish out of its intended context.

I thought often of paradise garden and what Reverend Howard Finster had said about "the new world coming down" as i raked and smoothed and dug and planted. The whole world has shifted somehow. Wherever i was going before, im not going there anymore.

Mountain Laurel

Rain, and lots of it, was promised once again for the weekend. I arrived at Chickory wednesday afternoon to find the mountain laurel in bloom as well as the phlox, tiny blue flag iris, native azalea, solomon's seal, "maypops", the airy river ferns, and the tail-end of the trillium.

Phlox

Native Azalea

what the locals call "may-pops"


a stand of trillium out by the barn

Out my bedroom window the pines were lush and full and looked formal with the new growth. the tips are a pale yellow and they turn upward like candelabra which made them look like victorian christmas trees.

With the good came the bad. The ticks were plentiful and the gnats tormented me while i worked on the garden plot. I dusted myself with sulfur powder to keep the chiggers off and sprayed bug spray on my hat and directly on my face. thats how bad it was. The temperature was pleasant. each day the clouds built until the big puffy whites rose upward becoming thunderheads.


its lovely to be outside all day and mark the passage of time with the subtle changes in light and wind. i am already back to telling time by light and sun position. I dont hear anything other than birds and the rush of the waterfall, grasshoppers clicking and large UFO's buzzing by. When Dusty let out a mighty crow, it startled me out of a zen-like focus on making the dirt as perfect as i could to receive seeds.


i thought of Dovey often and still miss her so much. she was such a good little hen and a big personality. I took the new chicks out with me each day to the field. they instinctively stay in the hedgerow, working themselves into the grasses as they pecked around at seeds and grassy pods; stretching out their wings like solar panels to receive vital D for strength.


they looked safe among the blackberry brambles and if the blooms are any indication, we will have a bumper crop of berries this summer.

They havent caught on about how to hang out with me while i work on the garden -that way they are sure to get a treat. when i found a small and tender grub i would take it over and whoever got it would run with it making sure to deny the other even a taste.

When i needed compost i put the chicks in the wheelbarrow and they rode with me to the pile. 5 years ago when i had some trees taken down i saved the mulch and it is so rich and friable now i just marvel at how easy it is to shovel up. I found some termites frantically moving their pupae and showed it to Dusty and Easter...but they didnt know it was something good to eat.

I remember once i found a hole in the driveway and kicked at it. all these termites came flying out and when Red and Dovey saw that they ran over and started eating them. it was hilarious because they would fly up and catch them in the air. you know, i dont think one of those poor bugs made it out alive. the chickens were so efficient it reminded me of when bottle-nosed porpoises feed on a school of fish- the frenzy of it.

when it was time to rake up pine straw to cover the seed beds, i took the chicks with me and put them up in the branches. soon, they will not put up with this, they will become independent and want to do what they want to do. but while they are chicks i can protect them.

its been fun to think of all the things i have handy to use in the garden that i don't have to spend money for. Raking up pine straw is one of them. Today, since it is too rainy to work in soil, i will hunt for strong and relatively straight branches to use for my bean teepees. I am following the square foot gardening technique that my mom taught me in high school. i have sectioned out 40 4x4 foot growing zones interlaced with paths so that as i keep amending the soil and making it rich and loose, i never step on it again. thus, not compacting it. i dont have a tractor, and with this approach i wont need one. it also will allow me to create micro zones..for example later with carrots, you need the soil to be very loose at least 18 inches deep so the roots grow evenly and look pretty and appetizing. I can pick one square to do this to and keep that area very defined. i can also build cold frames around a few squares for early spring.

Trout seems to have really improved on the glaucoma drops. I feel far more hopeful that i can preserve her eyesight than i did when i first got the bad news from the vet. I understand now that her struggle to see 3 weeks ago was due to the bulging eye which distorted her vision. now she is back to running over the entire place at top speed just for the joy of it. It does my heart a lot of good to see that.

so far i have in 12 sections. ive got a variety of sunflowers which i chose for my tall plants. i thought about corn, but it is so cheap and abundant around here it just didnt make sense. the sunflowers i planted are: aztec gold, chianti, vanilla ice, a green variety, a cutting mixture, and italian whites. I also put in a plot of mixed giant cactus zinnas and cosmos. I got in 8 tomato plants -all different kinds. I started a little greenhouse of yellow pear tomatoes and hope to transfer them in in a few weeks. I put in 4 kinds of peppers and built the mounds for my zucchini and squash. i plan to do a section of green okra so i can harvest it young, slice it, roll it in cornmeal and fry it up like my aunt peggy used to do. I hope to also plant a few watermelon and cantelope maybe even a pumpkin. I want to find some of that swiss chard that is really colorful but havent seen it. and i will plant a lot more flowers.

now i am going to go into "town" to do a few errands. I get to go to the dump that has a great mountain view, maybe drop by the little cafe with the killer peanut butter cookies, stop by and see my merchant friends on main street -i used to count myself as one of them - but my shop was short lived. I will also go by the junk/flea and see what i can find that is cheap and useful. this little excursion will be really exciting since i havent seen another person in 2.5 days. not that ive been lonely, though. to the contrary, the anxiety i was feeling before i arrive has all but disappeared. i do believe that noise is the #1 cause of stress for me. the never ending and multi-layered seige of noise i hear in the city takes any bad situation and ramps it up to def-con 4. Leaf blowers are the principle culprit; the woman who screams at her child all afternoon, the dog that is allowed to bark for no reason; the bad music from the house on the next street, and, the TV's. i hate the TV's!!!!!!

its so quiet here i can hear the hummingbird's wings long before he arrives at the feeder.


have a terrific weekend everyone!

the tropic of wren

a painting + photoshop = The Tropic of Wren

the harshest of springs

no one will want to visit this page if things continue on as they have. I made this piece today of a bird with her heart bleeding surrounded by assorted supple greens. that bird is me. i took the little painting and pinned it to a green velvet backing inside of a mexican tin nicho. the painting is surrounded with twigs and feathers....including the feathers of one Mean Dovey Cooledge.

first was the bad news on Trout's eyes and now i have lost my other elder stateswoman of a hen. the feathers in the shrine are those i had saved long ago from when i made the "creatura" stick crosses. there were no feathers to be found yesterday. i let the chicks out of their pens and Dovey made a bee line for the basement where i have a laying box for her. i checked on her and found an egg but no sign of Dovey. i wasnt too worried she was used to picking around down there or heading back to the yard.

i was watching closely the new chicks -less experienced with the dangers than Dovey, they stayed with me at all times. Dovey was used to ranging on to wherever she wanted, just like Red did. late afternoon became early evening and i hadn't seen her so i started looking in all the familiar places. nothing. the girl in the garage apartment helped me. we covered my yard and across the street, next door -two doors, three doors down...in sheds, cars, the house. i called her and she always answered if she could hear me. dread set in and deepened with the color of sky.

(here is Dovey enjoying a dry moment last week)

i never heard a thing. night came and she never returned. her perch on top of V's basement TV stood silent and without its crowning glory of a hen who annoyed him with her persistence to perch there. he made a little cardboard platform for her. it was lined with fresh newspaper waiting for her to decorate it with fertilizer. i made a mix of laying crumbles and oyster shells to try and help her eggs survive; their shells were thin like paper and broke when you picked then up. The laying mix sat in her dish untouched.Looking at the empty space i reflected on how V has always accommodated the chickens, God love him, and when i called him this morning he was crushed to learn she was gone. as was my friend in the garage apartment. she wept as she folded her clothes last night-the basement is where the chickens are at night - because it is safer than out in the pens.

so much for me staying home from California to watch over the pets.

Hawks flew over the yard most of the morning. i noticed there was a young hawk with the pair. I have no way of knowing how Dovey disappeared. its worse than when we lost Red -at least we knew what happened. there is no way not to blame myself. and yet i cannot be everywhere at once or have a creature confined in a cage at all times. both Red and Dovey had 5 years with us.

now we are left with Easter and "Dusty" because that hen, formerly named "olivia", is a rooster. (this photo is from their first day out in the field - running wild)

Dovey thought she was the king pin of the yard. the whole household really. and her little personality began to shine without Red. It occurred to us that perhaps we had always thought Red was the sweeter hen and never gave Dovey a chance to show us how engaged she could be. Maybe she was "mean" because we always favored Red. you'd think with that little bitty head and the little bitty brain inside it i am surely projecting meaning where it doesnt exist; but i tell you these chickens have fully developed personalities complete with bad and good moods.

i took the photo above last week at the cabin. she had started wanting to be inside with everybody. i came in and caught her up on my bed -no this wasnt a staged photo. i think she wanted to be treated as an equal member in the family. i wish she could know that she will surely be missed like an equal member of the family. i dreamed i found her under the bed and was so happy. when i woke up from the dream, my heart was broken freshly as if it was brand new news.

the days have been marked with violent stormy afternoons and so much rain that i havent been able to work on my soil at all. no seeds are in the ground and i am getting a very late start. i almost dont have the heart for it now. it just doesnt seem idyllic as it did when i imagined having Dovey hanging out with me -and before i learned Trouts sighted days could be shortened. the wildflowers i planted were coming up but standing in puddles of water. limbs from the giant virginia pines littered the field and tender trillium were torn by hail.

tomorrow i will detail the house so it will be very nice for V to return to. and then i will head out to Chickory once again with Trout and the young pullet and cockerel. there is no option but to look forward with faith in goodness and beauty to come. because the sorrows are always with us. our job is to savor the little victories of light and grace; the gift of a million greens, fragrant honeysuckle on a cool wind and the next deep breath of life.

taking a break

wednesday update: they insist Trout has glaucoma. they say we have caught it very early and i should treat her with the drops at least once a day in each eye. most dogs with glaucoma eventually lose their eyesight but since we have started treatment early it could be a while before that happens. of course i am brokenhearted. all i can do now is make sure she has the best life a dog can. that means lots of hiking in the cohuttas, fishin trips and good food. i feel like throwing up. thanks to all, much love, chickory

********************************************************************



UPDATE: on saturday afternoon i was dismayed when i would throw a stick for Trout, she didnt see where it landed and had to find the stick by scent. That night, she seemed to be looking around the cabin as if something was flying around inside. there wasnt anything. she would just stare hard at things -like this one painting of mine - for the longest time. of course i freaked out because the behavior was so weird. and also because the vet told me that the eye damage happens very rapidly if its not caught in time and in my case it had been almost 24 hours -too long.

she had at that point been on the medications 24 hours. By Sunday afternoon, she seemed to see better and the bulging in her eyes had gone down. my theory is that because of the bulging, her vision was impaired. I saw the eye specialist today. She couldnt find anything wrong, and because Trout has been on meds now 3 full days the eye pressure readings were normal. SO, we dont know anything more at this point. What we are going to do is wean her off the meds and take an eye pressure reading every two days. if it goes back up, its glaucoma. if not, something else has happened although the doc was mystified as to what that might be. The eye specialist said Trouts eyes looked normal. they arent though. they are bigger and darker. they are slightly too big for the socket.

im not as scared as i was saturday, but the doc said not to get too jacked up until we get new pressure readings off meds. so thats where i am with this.
THANK YOU all so much for your kind words. I pray Trout gets to continue her life as the sighted country dog streaking across fields and fording streams.

******************

posted on saturday evening:

my dog trout is going blind before my eyes. it has happened so fast i dont know if it can be arrested. The diagnosis is glaucoma. i started the drops but it may be too late already. i will see a specialist monday but watching her today, i was not encouraged. she is only 3 and a half years old. forgive me if i dont visit your blogs for a while. thanks for all the kind words on the previous post.

-chickory