hanging garden of bottle gourds

9-25-16-0372
9.25.16 ~ Holmberg Orchards ~ Gales Ferry, Connecticut

As we wandered around a corn maze on a perfect autumn day, we came upon an enchanting gourd tunnel.

Gourds are natural born climbers. They seek out anything they can reach to climb closer to the sun. They grow so quickly it can become a daily task to move the vines away from some places you don’t want them to climb on. And once a tendril gets itself wound around a hold nothing short of breaking the tendril off the vine will get the little curlicue to let go. Not even the death of the vine will loosen their grip much.
~ Karen Hundt-Brown
(American Gourd Society)

9-25-16-0376
9.25.16 ~ Holmberg Orchards ~ Gales Ferry, Connecticut

While I looked, my inner self moved; my spirit shook its always-fettered wings half loose; I had a sudden feeling as if I, who never yet truly lived, were at last about to taste life: in that morning my soul grew as fast as Jonah’s gourd.
~ Charlotte Brontë
(Villette)

9-25-16-0379
9.25.16 ~ Holmberg Orchards ~ Gales Ferry, Connecticut

Yet poetry, though the last and finest result, is a natural fruit. As naturally as the oak bears an acorn, and the vine a gourd, man bears a poem, either spoken or done.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(A Week on the Concord & Merrimack Rivers)

9-25-16-0381
9.25.16 ~ Holmberg Orchards ~ Gales Ferry, Connecticut

from daffodils to snow

3.21.16.2448
3.21.16 ~ second day of spring in Groton, Connecticut. The small dumpster is for construction debris from our bathroom renovation.

It’s been snowing! I’ve come back from my twelve days in North Carolina, where spring has already sprung, big time!

3.13.16.2082
3.13.16 ~ daffodils blooming in Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Poor Katherine… it’s no fun when it’s so nice outside but you are miserable with a fever and a very runny nose. And you don’t want to get out of your pajamas or comb your hair or let go of your bunny or blanket… And your visiting Grammy still insists on getting some pictures of you!

3.13.16.2090
3.13.16 ~ Katherine and Hopkins the bunny.
3.13.16.2096
3.13.16 ~ Maybe I will try taking a little walk.
3.13.16.2112
3.13.16 ~ Getting warm, time to take off this jacket. Yes, I do know that one pajama leg is scrunched up and I don’t care!
3.13.16.2116
3.13.16 ~ Maybe Daddy can get the blanket draped over my shoulders just the way I want it.
3.13.16.2119
3.13.16 ~ Then again, maybe not. Oh well. Feeling warm enough so I’ll just sit here with Hopkins and Daddy again.

Several hours later – it must have been at least 80°F in the afternoon!

3.13.16.2437
3.13.16 ~ Mommy persuaded me to get dressed and follow her out to the garden, but I still don’t feel well…
3.13.16.2441
3.13.16 ~ Mommy and I fixed the position of a slate stepping stone that had shifted over the winter.

I had a lovely time visiting the little one and her parents. Their new house is beautiful. Larisa and I planted some seeds in her vegetable garden, re-potted a couple of plants, discussed colors for painting the walls, took walks, ate out several times, and went shopping for all sorts of things for the house and for clothes for Katherine. I also got to spend time with my friend from high school, Susan, who lives only two miles away. We got caught in a scary thunder and hail storm one night on our way home from having dinner out. Yikes! And I had plenty of time to work on my ancestor table (see sidebar) while the family was at work and daycare.

Now that I am home work on the bathroom has stalled as we wait for the floor tile to come in. But a lot got done while I was gone. The new closet is framed out, the electrical and plumbing are all done, and the walls are up. And I’m looking out my window at about 5 inches of snow – quite a contrast to the daffodils down south!

summer solstice

"Ukrainian Landscape" by Efim Volkov
“Ukrainian Landscape” by Efim Volkov

There came a Day – at Summer’s full –
Entirely for me –
I thought that such – were for the Saints –
Where Resurrections – be –

The Sun – as common – went abroad –
The Flowers – accustomed – blew –
As if no Soul the Solstice passed –
That maketh all things new.

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #325)