FARMED.

Yesterday, we farmed.


And tractored.

I called these cutie-pies goats for about 4 minutes. Then I turned around and read that they are sheep. Cute little goat-sheep aren't they?


Looking for milk from Mama Goat-Sheep.
After close inspection, Dec said that the Mama Goat-Sheep had no eyes.
It was at that moment that I declared: "all Mama Goat-Sheep in this pen need a haircut".
I mean it, there is some wool on those things.

I now wonder what I'd have done if the kids fell in.
Probably laughed.
This is just after we passed the "don't worry Nonie, those vultures aren't too scary" pen.

Dec scooped Nonie's hand in his own. To protect her from the vultures.

For the record, they were turkeys.

(We need to get out more.)

So many signs to read.
So much more entertaining than any of the books we've checked out of the library this week.

Earlier on our walk, Dec had told Nonie that a goat was a cow.
Seriously, why are we having so much trouble identifying farm animals today?

But this, I assured the children, this is a Mama Cow.

Then, I quickly took note of the fact that this Mama Cow needed to nurse or be milked. Her udders were pouring out milk and she kept bellowing from one corner of her field to another.

I think I was the only one who really understood her needs.

Just call me the cow-whisperer.


This photo was taken about 2 minutes after Nonie lost her cute little pink ked in a cowpie/mud puddle.

I chose to focus on the expansive view and not her muck encased toes that wiggled around me.


These are the babies who we stalked for about 30 minutes. Saggy-baggy lambs.
I could have curled up with them and their wobbly little legs for days.


Happy award goes to the pigs.
I tell you - they're on to something.
Sunniest spot on the farm and not even my squealing children stirred them.


Why hello John Deere tractor. Can we talk about the fact that a green tractor drove by us on the farm for the next 30 hours straight?!?
Great then, we will.
Wheels. Fascinated by the antique trike.
Desperate for the chance to take it for a spin around the farm.



We'd just talked about the saying en route to Montessori School two weeks ago.
And we also talked about "the early bird catches the worm..."

Upon seeing this sign, I think (but can't be totally sure) that Dec offered up an ounce of his respect for me, "hmmm, she's not really making all this stuff up...." he thought.

On Tuesday we

Ran.
Laughed.
Farmed.

My hope is that they
Learned.
Loved.
Remember...

All that matters.

You can't quite tell in this picture - but Dec's tiny hand was cozy in mine as we walked.

Today, we ventured across the Brooklyn Bridge to Brooklyn.

Then walked it again to NYC (with yummy Pizza & Strawberry ice cream in our bellies).

And today, this jaunt across the bridge and back? This is all that mattered.

I stood on the bridge at midnight,

As the clocks were striking the hour,

And the moon rose o'er the city,

Behind the dark church-tower.

I saw her bright reflection

In the waters under me,

Like a golden goblet falling

And sinking into the sea.

And far in the hazy distance

Of that lovely night in June,

The blaze of the flaming furnace

Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long, black rafters

The wavering shadows lay,

And the current that came from the ocean

Seemed to lift and bear them away;

As, sweeping and eddying through them,

Rose the belated tide,

And, streaming into the moonlight,

The seaweed floated wide.

And like those waters rushing

Among the wooden piers,

A flood of thoughts came o'er me

That filled my eyes with tears.

How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,

I had stood on that bridge at midnight

And gazed on that wave and sky!

How often, oh, how often,

I had wished that the ebbing tide

Would bear me away on its bosom

O'er the ocean wild and wide!

For my heart was hot and restless,

And my life was full of care,

And the burden laid upon me

Seemed greater than I could bear.

But now it has fallen from me,

It is buried in the sea;

And only the sorrow of others

Throws its shadow over me.

Yet whenever I cross the river

On its bridge with wooden piers,

Like the odor of brine from the ocean

Comes the thought of other years.

And I think how many thousands

Of care-encumbered men,

Each bearing his burden of sorrow,

Have crossed the bridge since then.

I see the long procession

Still passing to and fro,

The young heart hot and restless,

And the old subdued and slow!

And forever and forever,

As long as the river flows,

As long as the heart has passions,

As long as life has woes;

The moon and its broken reflection

And its shadows shall appear,

As the symbol of love in heaven,

And its wavering image here.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's The Bridge

Hey Dec Where We Going?

"Just hang on Xavey...and I'll take you on the ride of your life!"

And the floor shook beneath us.

A Sister.
A Sister-in-Law.
A Cousin.
A Might-As-Well-Be-My-Cousin.
A Best Friend.
And Me.

Snugged in to a NYC Winery to listen to never-heard-before-tunes.
A sweet soothing voice. An introvert, we mused. We laughed about his promise of "hits".
And that Sarah would marry him.
Specially crafted wines. And lack of kinder appropriate tunes.

A very memorable way to spend an otherwise cold, cold Friday eve.

And every time the subway ran under the winery - it shook the floors.

And I'll always remember it. All of it.
Including the giant Xmas trees awaiting the perfect SoHo lofts.

And how they smelled in the crisp air.

And then home by 3 to give way to sleep and dreams of brand new sets of wings.

Is That A Shin Splint I Feel?

Musings from the afternoon jog (not to be confused with the morning jog)

Is that a shin splint I feel?

Could that car drive any closer to me?

Did the rain just get harder?

Why does my pony tail feel fuzzy?

Jacket off.

Since when did my chest size triple?

This sports bra is begging for retirement.

Is this what a shin-splint feels like?

I think those horses are laughing at me.

Can I really run a 1/2 marathon in 5 days?

Jacket on.

Good song - run faster. F-A-S-T-E-R.

Too much jiggling.

Why haven't I been training?

I think I'll take a tub when I get home.

Did I need to say that I'd run 12.5 miles today?

Uh oh, which way do I go?

Dame was right - I'm gonna get lost.

I guess I'll go left.

More horses.

These ones are definitely laughing at me.

Wrong turn.

I should have asked that car for help.

Too bad this jacket isn't breathable.

Jacket off.

Rain stopped.

Who slipped "Your Body Is a Wonderland" onto my jogging playlist?

I wonder if they ate dinner without me.

Yup, I just added an extra 1/2 mile to the run.

Great Blue Heron by the stream - great excuse to stop and breathe.

Ah, this hill looks familiar.

A car just drove past really slow - are they trying to race me?

Or mock me?

Blister alert.

Is it starting to rain again?

Wow. Refreshing.

Uhhh change that. It is pelting the backs of my eyeballs.

Who's idea was this running thing anyway?

What's up with the .1?

13 miles I can do. But 13.1 might put me right over the edge.

This is it - home stretch.

Wave to neighbors heading out to dinner.

Tuck head down.

Grit teeth.

There are no excuses.

Just 1 more mile to go.

Straight up hill.

Damn these hills.

There are no excuses.

Round the corner for home!

Rain!

Am I imagining the smell of pizza?

Did I really just open my mouth and try to get a drink of rain?

Is there a warm bath waiting for me?

Is that sweat or rain? I think it is sweat.

Legs want to keep moving.

Just one more step - home sweet ho-

Is that a shin splint I feel?

Just when I think I have it all figured out....

Less than one hour after I took this picture, this little guy was on his back in the MV ER, getting sewn together like a rag doll. A sad rag doll, by the way.

I have close to 300 pictures from our last jaunt to the island - but this is the one that makes me pause. I can't stop looking at it.

At the moment this picture was taken - if you'd asked me if Dec could conquer the world, I'd have said yes. Without hesitating, "Yes".

But in the hospital minutes later, as I held his tiny hand tight, wiped the crusty blood from his chin and read him boring stories from the kids water safety magazine we found in the lobby, I'd have had a very different answer.

He's a gentle, breakable, split-table, fragile baby.

How often we think we've got it all figured out.

How often I think that my hours spent planning each bit part, or managing each minute will give me more control - only to find that I have no control over any of it.

I'd had Dec's lunch made and waiting for him when Dame ran through the door shouting that we were on our way to the ER and to "grab the keys....quickly..."

Hard to swallow but important to note that it's not my job to have total control either.

My job is to save each memory scrap and kiss each memory scrape and wipe the dirt from banged up knees.

Oh and it's my job to enjoy it too. All of it.

Because just when I think I have it all figured out. I totally, totally don't.

Around each corner is a surprise. In this case, it came by way of blood-soaked tissues and big salty tears. And hours spent looking at gruesome food-clogged stitches and a mouth four times it's normal size.

Even though I'd planned for it to look something like a ham & cheese sandwich with a tall glass of chocolate milk.

(Followed by an afternoon at the beach.)

Oh well.

A Case of the Tuesdays...

Sometimes, on a rainy Tuesday, you just need to get out of the house.

Sometimes, when the first dinner attempted is gently used (ahem....chewed and spit out), you need a back up plan.

(By the way...the boy does not like beanieweanies.)

Today was that sometimes. The fridge full of leftovers was not so appealing. So as the boy napped through dinner time (fighting off the beanieweanies and a day at Grans with Dec and Nones wore him out), I planned out an adventure for when daddy got home.

I told Bri to change, put his pj's on if he wanted, we were going out for an adventure/dinner.

It was far, and we took the long way. We weaved through the woods of CT and happened upon the choochoo. We crossed paths with it a couple of times, and as it stopped to let some passengers off in what is probably the smallest town in all the MTA territory, we got a CHOOOOOOCHOOOOOO and wave from the conductor. WIDE EYED boy in the backseat, and that wasn't even the planned part of the adventure.

This was:

I had seen an ad for car hop service, and have only had it once before in good ol Michigan. Great burgers, fries, onion rings, milkshakes and root beer. What a treat. And what a great cure for the Tuesdays. (I missed the shot of the food hanging off the car, it was rainy, windy and we were HUNGRY...YUM.)