When we visited the Finger Lakes region back at the end of October, we drove past many wineries in that area. The one winery we visited was Bully Hill in Hammondsport. It is a very interesting place, and the fellow who founded it, the late Wallace Taylor, was quite a character.
While we were there we toured their makeshift museum featuring a collection of art created by Mr. Taylor. We also watched a video about the winery, its origins, and a bit about wine making in the region.
When I was a child I used to tell adults who would ask me about my plans for the future that I was going to, among other tihngs, live on a "grape ranch" and have a herd of St. Bernards. I remember saying that; I remember very clearly saying it when I was only about nine or ten years old and more than once. What I don't remember is any aforethought that led to me saying it. Actually, there was a bit more. I would say, "When I grow up I'm going to play the field, live on a grape ranch, and raise a herd of St. Bernards."
Interesting; interesting to me at least. And I have recalled those words often during my adult life, looking for clues in choices I've made that would explain, all these years later, what my nine year old mind was looking at when uttering that particular response.
I have said in earlier posts that though I live on a farm, neither my husband nor I are farmers. There is a local farmer who pays us a little bit of money annually for the rights to work our land. For us it is a good arrangement, because it is important for the land to be worked regularly and kept arable. Also, looking out the windows in the morning I see our beautiful corn fields ablaze with golden morning light as I did this past Saturday morning. Against a dark and stormy sky, that sunlit corn stands out with energy and excitement. We don't have to put the corn there, but we get to enjoy its beauty and even get paid a little bit to do so.
I had an idea when we were at the Bully Hill winery, that perhaps one day if the farmer stops using our land, we might put in a vineyard here. Grape vines grow everywhere around us, wild. It stands to reason in my mind we should be able to grow them on purpose. I loved the fact that I could mention my idea to my husband and he actually considered it and discussed it with me.
Late Saturday afternoon we were driving down to the historic village I have spoken of in previous posts for a Christmas buffet dinner and a candlelight tour of the village later in the evening. On the drive down we got to talking about the corn fields and other crops our farmer has put in the fields over the years. We talked about various possibilities in the event the farmer ceases to work our land. My husband likes the idea of putting in alfalfa fields or other ... I can't remember the word he used but it had something to do with ... oh, I remember now ... silage crops.
He pointed out we could put them in, let them grow, and then let someone come and cut them down and bale them from time to time. We also discussed again the possibilities of a vineyard and other ideas.
What was cool was that we were having, and could have, a discussion about what to do with the land. The reality of my change in circumstances keeps washng over me from time to time. I still recall so freshly that first Sunday when we got here after our honeymoon, just this past May. I was sitting on the stoop out back feeling a bit dazed. My husband was mowing our very large lawn with his tractor, going round and round the barn. The barn. There I was, with a barn ... on a farm ... with a husband ... on a tractor. And I said to myself, in wonder and a bit dazed still ... "I live on a farm, and my husband drives a tractor."
Saturday morning I was washing dishes and thinking about my parents and son coming here for the Christmas holidays and the good times we will have, the delicious and healthy foods we will enjoy together ... and it hit me again. Wow, my parents and my son and daughter are going to be here to visit us on my farm ... I have a farm. My gosh, I have a farm!
Side Bar: And I just looked out my window and saw snow whirling around outside. Beautiful. Just beautiful. I have to pause here, because I have to drive into the village to return a carpet steamer we rented this weekend. It is due back at 8:00 this morning, so I am going to go out and have my first drive on my own in NY snow.
Back Now: No mishaps on the road. The snow this morning is sticking to the roads, but was not showing up so much in the fields and yards until it had been going for a while. Dusty drifts of snow danced in almost mesmerizing waves along the surface of the road and above, a large flock of Canadian geese made similar movements as it shaped and reshaped itself in an evolving, fluid formation. As I returned home, during the part of the drive closest to our farm the snow floated so gently in the air I felt as if I were in one of those snow globes. If I looked up and out, perhaps I would see the giant eyeballs of a small child staring at my world in wonder.
When I got back home I spent a bit of time outside catching bits of the morning in photographs. By then, there was sun breaking through the clouds. Pretty. The barn always has a new and pretty view to show me when I am out for a photo walk about the place. The willow and our disappearing/reappearing pond are also constantly changing. I ventured to the pond to test it and see if it was frozen--the temperature outside is 23 degrees and I thought perhaps the pond could freeze through. But, my foot broke through very easily. Still, snow lay on top of the pond and made it look lovely in an entirely new way.
There is a large, dead elm tree out by our willow; you may have noticed it in photos from the past. The winds were so strong here on Friday night that a large portion of the elm fell. It will be different, not seeing so much of it there when I am out shooting photos in the yard. However, we will have plenty of firewood for cozy visiting when my family is here, so I suppose we can be thankful for that contribution from the elm.
By the time I made my way over to the bank of the river, quite a lot of sun was shinning through and the river sparkled invitingly.
I am in the middle of an amazing journey which I intend to cherish and regard daily with respect and love, knowing it is a gift and a blessing ... so many blessings. Today my world is a snow globe or a postcard ... Greetings From Wherever it is That I Am. I remember dreaming this place and this life, and now I am transported to it by some sort of magic.
I finished knitting a hat for my son as one of his Christmas gifts; he'll make good use of it when he is here. It is knit of a very nice wool from Plymouth Yarns, purchased at one of the two local yarn stores in a village nearby. We have two villages, in opposite directions, each about ten miles away. One village has two wonderful yarn stores, the other has no yarn store at all. Strange.
I have posted the pattern for my son's hat as well as the knitted little girl's dress up boa I spoke of last week.
It is quite nice to see the stash of handmade Christmas gifts growing, some of them soon to be shipped. We continue to decorate the inside of the house in preparation for the family visit. I am particularly focusing on our sitting area around the fireplace. There are windows on either side of the fireplace, with a view of the barn and the cornfield out back. I have candles all over the place, greens hanging on the mantle, a huge cranberry glass bowl that used to belong to my mother-in-law filled nearly to the brim with buttons from Winnie of the Buttons and Sweet Dorothy. A couple of decks of cards and a checker board wait on the coffee table, and my caroling critters are poised on the stone windowsill, waiting to warm our hearts.
Hope you are warm, or at least having warm thoughts, today. Here's a sip of tea and cheers to you.
~firefly
When we visited the Finger Lakes region back at the end of October, we drove past many wineries in that area. The one winery we visited was Bully Hill in Hammondsport. It is a very interesting place, and the fellow who founded it, the late Wallace Taylor, was quite a character.
While we were there we toured their makeshift museum featuring a collection of art created by Mr. Taylor. We also watched a video about the winery, its origins, and a bit about wine making in the region.
When I was a child I used to tell adults who would ask me about my plans for the future that I was going to, among other tihngs, live on a "grape ranch" and have a herd of St. Bernards. I remember saying that; I remember very clearly saying it when I was only about nine or ten years old and more than once. What I don't remember is any aforethought that led to me saying it. Actually, there was a bit more. I would say, "When I grow up I'm going to play the field, live on a grape ranch, and raise a herd of St. Bernards."
Interesting; interesting to me at least. And I have recalled those words often during my adult life, looking for clues in choices I've made that would explain, all these years later, what my nine year old mind was looking at when uttering that particular response.
I have said in earlier posts that though I live on a farm, neither my husband nor I are farmers. There is a local farmer who pays us a little bit of money annually for the rights to work our land. For us it is a good arrangement, because it is important for the land to be worked regularly and kept arable. Also, looking out the windows in the morning I see our beautiful corn fields ablaze with golden morning light as I did this past Saturday morning. Against a dark and stormy sky, that sunlit corn stands out with energy and excitement. We don't have to put the corn there, but we get to enjoy its beauty and even get paid a little bit to do so.
I had an idea when we were at the Bully Hill winery, that perhaps one day if the farmer stops using our land, we might put in a vineyard here. Grape vines grow everywhere around us, wild. It stands to reason in my mind we should be able to grow them on purpose. I loved the fact that I could mention my idea to my husband and he actually considered it and discussed it with me.
Late Saturday afternoon we were driving down to the historic village I have spoken of in previous posts for a Christmas buffet dinner and a candlelight tour of the village later in the evening. On the drive down we got to talking about the corn fields and other crops our farmer has put in the fields over the years. We talked about various possibilities in the event the farmer ceases to work our land. My husband likes the idea of putting in alfalfa fields or other ... I can't remember the word he used but it had something to do with ... oh, I remember now ... silage crops.
He pointed out we could put them in, let them grow, and then let someone come and cut them down and bale them from time to time. We also discussed again the possibilities of a vineyard and other ideas.
What was cool was that we were having, and could have, a discussion about what to do with the land. The reality of my change in circumstances keeps washng over me from time to time. I still recall so freshly that first Sunday when we got here after our honeymoon, just this past May. I was sitting on the stoop out back feeling a bit dazed. My husband was mowing our very large lawn with his tractor, going round and round the barn. The barn. There I was, with a barn ... on a farm ... with a husband ... on a tractor. And I said to myself, in wonder and a bit dazed still ... "I live on a farm, and my husband drives a tractor."
Saturday morning I was washing dishes and thinking about my parents and son coming here for the Christmas holidays and the good times we will have, the delicious and healthy foods we will enjoy together ... and it hit me again. Wow, my parents and my son and daughter are going to be here to visit us on my farm ... I have a farm. My gosh, I have a farm!
Side Bar: And I just looked out my window and saw snow whirling around outside. Beautiful. Just beautiful. I have to pause here, because I have to drive into the village to return a carpet steamer we rented this weekend. It is due back at 8:00 this morning, so I am going to go out and have my first drive on my own in NY snow.
Back Now: No mishaps on the road. The snow this morning is sticking to the roads, but was not showing up so much in the fields and yards until it had been going for a while. Dusty drifts of snow danced in almost mesmerizing waves along the surface of the road and above, a large flock of Canadian geese made similar movements as it shaped and reshaped itself in an evolving, fluid formation. As I returned home, during the part of the drive closest to our farm the snow floated so gently in the air I felt as if I were in one of those snow globes. If I looked up and out, perhaps I would see the giant eyeballs of a small child staring at my world in wonder.
When I got back home I spent a bit of time outside catching bits of the morning in photographs. By then, there was sun breaking through the clouds. Pretty. The barn always has a new and pretty view to show me when I am out for a photo walk about the place. The willow and our disappearing/reappearing pond are also constantly changing. I ventured to the pond to test it and see if it was frozen--the temperature outside is 23 degrees and I thought perhaps the pond could freeze through. But, my foot broke through very easily. Still, snow lay on top of the pond and made it look lovely in an entirely new way.
There is a large, dead elm tree out by our willow; you may have noticed it in photos from the past. The winds were so strong here on Friday night that a large portion of the elm fell. It will be different, not seeing so much of it there when I am out shooting photos in the yard. However, we will have plenty of firewood for cozy visiting when my family is here, so I suppose we can be thankful for that contribution from the elm.
By the time I made my way over to the bank of the river, quite a lot of sun was shinning through and the river sparkled invitingly.
I am in the middle of an amazing journey which I intend to cherish and regard daily with respect and love, knowing it is a gift and a blessing ... so many blessings. Today my world is a snow globe or a postcard ... Greetings From Wherever it is That I Am. I remember dreaming this place and this life, and now I am transported to it by some sort of magic.
I finished knitting a hat for my son as one of his Christmas gifts; he'll make good use of it when he is here. It is knit of a very nice wool from Plymouth Yarns, purchased at one of the two local yarn stores in a village nearby. We have two villages, in opposite directions, each about ten miles away. One village has two wonderful yarn stores, the other has no yarn store at all. Strange.
I have posted the pattern for my son's hat as well as the knitted little girl's dress up boa I spoke of last week.
It is quite nice to see the stash of handmade Christmas gifts growing, some of them soon to be shipped. We continue to decorate the inside of the house in preparation for the family visit. I am particularly focusing on our sitting area around the fireplace. There are windows on either side of the fireplace, with a view of the barn and the cornfield out back. I have candles all over the place, greens hanging on the mantle, a huge cranberry glass bowl that used to belong to my mother-in-law filled nearly to the brim with buttons from Winnie of the Buttons and Sweet Dorothy. A couple of decks of cards and a checker board wait on the coffee table, and my caroling critters are poised on the stone windowsill, waiting to warm our hearts.
Hope you are warm, or at least having warm thoughts, today. Here's a sip of tea and cheers to you.
~firefly