Amabellen

zanekathryne.com

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 15 May 2015 18:08:00 +0000

Dear Friends,

Thank you for your kind messages about amabellen over the past year-and-a-half. I've missed you too. And I've missed blogging.

I missed it so much that I've started fresh, in a new space.

Please come visit me over there at www.zanekathryne.com. The photos are larger, there are fewer distractions, and comments are welcome!

Warmly,

Zane

Abundance

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Tue, 17 Sep 2013 02:27:00 +0000

Last week I drafted an epic farewell post . . . but in the end, I've decided to leave you with handful of words and photos, a sincere thank you, and a fond farewell.

My girls spent an afternoon in the garden today, picking beans. Remember those magic beans from last fall?

As I sat on the edges of the garden, watching them and taking photos, I asked myself: what will happen when I'm not blogging any more? Will I still remember our daily doings as well—and as fondly? Will I take in these moments even more deeply? Will the camera spend more time on a shelf? Will I spend more time writing by hand, writing stories for my children? Will I write as consistently as I hope to? Will I miss coming here to share with you? Will I loose touch with some dear friends?

I have a lot of unanswered questions, but on one thing I have finally decided: this is going to be my last blog post on amabellen. The time has come to close this online chapter and move on to other projects. It is bittersweet, of course, because there is so much I love about writing here. (And there's nothing mysterious going on behind the scenes, I assure you. It's just me, feeling compelled to make space for other good work in my life.)

But before I sign off, I want to thank you, really thank you, friends for visiting me here and for offering so many kind words over the years. I've made many wonderful connections in this online world and kept in touch with many of you from my past, and I'm very grateful for this place of reflection and sharing.

Thank you for listening to my writing voice as it has grown and shifted over the years . . . these wonderful years of mothering, gardening, new home searching, learning, making, working, experimenting . . . making life more complicated and then attempting to simplify and remember what is essential again and again.

Thank you for sharing in all the abundant light we've been blessed with here. And a very fond farewell, friends!

The Pittsburgh Post

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Sun, 08 Sep 2013 18:47:00 +0000

Last month we went on a little trip to Pittsburgh. I have a great affection for this city—the city of our first years of marriage, the city of Amabel's birth. For me Pittsburgh will always be wrapped up with those years of newness and change and love.

We went back last month so Jeffrey could work and the girls and I could explore and visit friends. (Although I later told Jeffrey that if we would have gone to Pittsburgh just to ride the bus, the girls would have been perfectly happy. So much to see! So many people to watch! And no seat belts! Jeffrey, the mass-transit lover that he is, was quite pleased.)

Much has changed since we moved away seven years ago, but there remains an underlying feeling of greatness in Pittsburgh that is hard to put into words. I felt it immediately as we entered the city on a humid night, just after a downpour. After driving all day through miles of rolling forests and flat corn fields, we snaked our way down the hills to where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers join, arriving amid the towering buildings and sidewalks steaming in the August air. There at last, we opened all the car windows and let Pittsburgh seep in.

As the girls and I made our way through city on foot and by bus over the following days, I was reminded again and again of the greatness of this place. But I couldn't quite put my finger on how to describe it until we were playing in front of the main branch of the Carnegie Library in Oakland where I read the inscription over the arched doorways:

FREE TO THE PEOPLE

And then it occurred to me: this is Pittsburgh. All the rich history, magnificent architecture, beautiful churches, natural parks, diverse neighborhoods—all of it free for anyone to explore. All you have to do is walk around and soak it up.

Of course, we have our own history there too. And that's what makes it particularly special for us to go back. I loved walking with the girls through Mellon Park where I taught children how to knit at a summer art camp. That summer I was hugely pregnant and every afternoon I would walk 14 blocks from our apartment up what seemed like an endlessly long, steep hill to the top of the park where classes were held.

Going up that same path with Amabel and Ellen skipping along beside me, picking up handfuls of acorn tops, the hill didn't seem nearly as big as I'd remembered it!

But the very best part of the trip, for me, was spending time with my dear friend Jenny and watching our children play together.

Eight years ago, Jenny and I met in a prenatal yoga class. This yoga class had a unique component: our wonderful teacher, Sheila, told birth stories while we stretched. After each woman in the class had given birth, she was invited to share her story over the phone with Sheila who would then recount it to the rest of us still-pregnant, soon-to-be mamas. I remember clearly the night our teacher shared Jenny's birth story. I think I knew then that she and I would become friends.

We did become friends. And during our visit to the city last month, Jenny's four children (no longer babies!) and my two (no longer babies!) quickly became friends in the very same neighborhood where Jenny and I met.

After all, it's not just any friend who will clear her schedule for the better part of three days just to have time to talk . . . and then come to my hotel room and take rockin' photos of my girls (dressed up like nuns) jumping on the bed!

Photo by Jennifer Stein

August

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Mon, 02 Sep 2013 19:35:00 +0000

August. You were perfect. Blueberries. Flowers. Family. Friends. Pittsburgh, PA. Chautauqua, New York. Niagara Falls. Books. Pickles. Our first tiny egg. And, of course, the beach.

We turn the calendar page, looking forward to the coming season and saying a fond farewell to an abundant August.

Dune Jumping

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Sun, 11 Aug 2013 03:49:00 +0000

I know I'm supposed to be on a blog-vacation, but I was so excited about our evening that I wanted to share a little peek into our dune jumping adventure on Pierce Stocking Drive tonight. It was all Kim's idea to set up these photos . . . I just tagged along behind with my camera!

Summer Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 02 Aug 2013 20:23:00 +0000

I have a project that needs a little extra attention this month, so I'm going to take a digital vacation for the rest of the summer. And there is also the beach. We have some very important work to do at the beach over the next few weeks. See you back here in September, friends!

Good Morning, Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Thu, 01 Aug 2013 13:15:00 +0000

We got off to a late start in the garden this spring. There were plants I should have put in the ground sooner and seeds that didn't germinate and had to be sown again. We had visions for a bigger landscape plan that haven't come to fruition yet. And we've been talking a lot about what we want to do next year. But when I'm thinking about what I should have done and feeling overwhelmed by how much we want to do, I am reminded of a passage from The One-Straw Revolution:

"But when trying to grasp the meaning of nature with a wide and far-reaching vision, he fails to notice the small things happening at his feet."

This year's magic beans that were so slow to get started have reached the top of their teepee.

Carrots that I seeded and reseeded after they got trampled by dogs are growing vigorously and need to be thinned now.

A volunteer, mystery squash/pumpkin/gourd is taking over half a garden bed and finally starting to fruit!

Borage is making its lovely little blue flowers on delicate, hairy stems.

Last year's parsley is happily going to seed.

Of the twenty-some seeds I planted, just three Calendula plants germinated . . . and yet look how many flowers are opening up to the light each morning!

Our broccoli crop is rather sad looking this year, but we've still enjoyed many delicious florets.

The uncomplaining onions are thriving.

Kale keeps giving and giving (and I am reminded that last year we ate our final kale salad from the garden on Christmas day).

Tomatoes are still tiny and green; but they sure look beautiful suspended on the vine in the morning light.

Basil doesn't like cold nights; but we've already made a few batches of pesto.

Czech black pepper flowers are absolutely exquisite.

Time to make sauerkraut!

And the raspberries? My little garden helpers have been filling their bowls and hands for weeks!

Connections

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Tue, 30 Jul 2013 02:27:00 +0000

It was a blogger's dream come true . . . when I saw on Christine's blog that she was vacationing with family in Northern Michigan, I sent her a message, hoping maybe (just maybe) we could connect in real life.

I've been reading the blog of this lovely Mama from Providence, Rhode Island for the past couple of years, admiring her writing and photography, as we bloggers and blog readers do. I've read her articles in Taproot and admired her book. But all this time I'd been getting to know her from afar, never expecting to actually meet Christine.

So when she got back in touch with me, and we made plans to connect, I was thrilled. It was surreal and serendipitous to meet a "friend" for the first time and already know we had much in common. I was so grateful that Christine and her kind Mother came over for a little visit when they were in Leelanau County. We talked children, writing, gardens, chickens—and even discovered that we attended the same elementary and middle schools in southern Michigan years ago!

Today, Christine posted a beautiful collection of her photos from Northern Michigan on her blog. I encourage you to take a look at this little corner of the world through her eyes and heart!

Fishing Together

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Sun, 28 Jul 2013 16:17:00 +0000

On Friday, we followed Chris, Lara, and Julien down a long, winding two-track through the National Lakeshore, to a hidden gem of a lake where Chris took the girls on a long-awaited fishing trip.

I had never been to this peaceful place before, but Chris knows this lake well. Actually I think he knows the best spots to fish in every little lake within 10 miles of Gousty. He has been fishing regularly since he was ten years old, but to watch his enthusiasm with the children, you'd never think he's caught thousands of bass, bluegill, perch, sunfish (and many others, I am sure). His love for fishing is contagious. As he handed over the rods to the girls, I watched Amabel and Ellen immediately gaining confidence as they became absorbed in watching for their bobbers to "dance" on the surface of the beautiful, silent lake (no motors allowed).

And Julien? Well, he is already a little expert himself! Within just a few minutes, he showed Amabel and Ellen how to reel in a shiny Bluegill.

After a successful round of fishing, we paused for a picnic lunch; Chris donned his fly gear; and the children went exploring in the reeds.

As we were catching frogs, the wind changed direction and the cloud cover started to darken. But the girls didn't want to stop fishing. And it's a good thing we stayed a bit longer, because as a light sprinkle fell upon the lake, the fish really started to bite. Amabel caught a lovely Bass, a Pumpkinseed Sunfish, and then a nice size Perch. Chris showed us how to carefully extract the hooks and release all the fish back into their shimmering home.

Just as we ran out of night crawlers, I could feel a definite shift in the air. We quickly packed up and said our goodbyes. As soon as our cars were out of the woods and we had turned on M-22, the sky opened up. We drove home in a deluge—the rush of water around us nearly downing out Ellen's happy songs about the rain and the fish and the lake.

Chicken Update

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 15:19:00 +0000

Thanks to all your helpful suggestions, kind emails, phone calls, and well wishes—our "basement bird" has rejoined her sisters. I think it was the goldenseal powder that really helped speed up her healing process (thank you, Samantha!). And I have Jeffrey to thank for making the chickens a safe, movable place to forage.

The whole flock celebrated this morning with a feast of sunflower seeds!

Summer Birthday Making

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Wed, 24 Jul 2013 20:37:00 +0000

One of our favorite children's books is Phewtus the Squirrel by V. H. Drummond, the story of a little boy named Julian and his beloved knitted squirrel. Inspired by cousin Julien's recent birthday and his delight in this book, we made a doll and squirrel set for him last week.

The doll pattern is from Hillary Lang's Wee Wonderfuls (Again, yes. I have not tired of using her lovely patterns!). We have made three or four versions of this particular doll (his name is Eddie in the book). The doll comes together so quickly, and I think it is genius to transform an outgrown child's knit shirt into a doll shirt! This little striped shirt was "upcycled" from Amabel's very favorite jammie shirt that completely wore out in the elbows. She was so happy to see it brought to life again!

The squirrel is based loosely on this bunny knitting pattern. We just eliminated the ears and added an i-cord tail.

The girls and I throughly enjoyed making Julien's birthday gifts and we were very excited to take them to his party at Gousty.

But I must admit that once the doll was opened, all the cousins much preferred a bunch of balloons, a tub of good old playdoh, and a romp around Grandmommy and Grandfather's beautiful Gousty gardens!

I Spoke Too Soon

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Wed, 17 Jul 2013 03:02:00 +0000

Photo by Amabel

Harry looked so lovely in the hen house on Friday. But I spoke too soon. Sunday was a sad day around these parts. The terrier duo killed one chicken and injured another. We are now nursing a Buff Orpington hen. I am not sure if she'll make it (her bandage is hiding a deep cut), but I feel a little more hopeful after talking with a local chicken expert today. For those of you who are tired of reading about chickens, I apologize.

We had a group of family over on Sunday. After lunch everyone went swimming, and the dogs were with us. Eventually we all got out of the pool and went out of the gate, leaving Harry and Nancy still enclosed in the fence. I went inside with my sister-in-law Lara to get dry clothes for the kids and then we started cleaning up the kitchen. Suddenly (was it five minutes later, ten minutes later?) I heard Amabel yelling that cousin Philena saw the dogs attacking the chickens (did she actually see them or just hear them?). I went flying down the path towards the coop, wondering how the dogs got out of the pool fence (we often leave them "safely" confined in there when we are around outside). Near the coop, I found Harry and Nancy on either side of a very frightened chicken. Philena had already grabbed Harry (how long had she been holding him?). My brother Chris grabbed Nancy (or did I grab Nancy?). I rushed the dogs back up to the house before I went back down to survey the scene.

It was brutal. At first I could only see two Barred Rock hens (the girls very favorite pair of speckled "giraffes"), huddled in a corner of the coop. But then I spotted what was once a gorgeous black Australorp, in a heap on the ground, feathers scattered everywhere. After looking around a bit, I discovered a shy little Buff Orpington with a huge chunk of feathers missing from her neck, hiding out under a bush (that would be the chicken in the photo above). None of the other chickens were around and I thought for a few minutes that we only had the two giraffes left. I started sobbing and went up towards the house. The girls started sobbing. The boys continued looking for the rest of the chickens.

Fortunately, cousin Julien soon found a group of birds under a mulberry tree and eventually the last missing chicken (the twin Australorp) found her way back into the coop. Jeffrey helped me bandage the injured bird and set up a recovery dog crate in the basement. Chris and I buried the black beauty while Lara did some art therapy with the children. It helped to have so many hands around to manage the crisis, but I still felt exhausted for the rest of the day. Exhausted and embarrassed.

Embarrassed because I've been trying to teach Harry not to eat the birds. And I was so proud of him. But who am I kidding? He is a terrier. And when he and Nancy get together, they are a whole pack of terriers. And they have instincts. Instincts and no shame. I spent a whole day being mad at them, but what's the use? Oh, furry murderers! You drive me crazy.

Guess Who . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 12 Jul 2013 16:21:00 +0000

. . . found his way up the chicken ramp and into the coop this morning? Don't worry, no one was hurt: Harry was just keeping close tabs on his birds. Babysitting, as Amabel said.

Instead of scolding and immediately removing him (as I probably should have done), I left Harry there with Amabel on watch, ran up to the house, and returned with the camera. It was so hilarious. I just couldn't resist capturing his triumphant expression. But then there was a little bit too much excitement (see below), so I had to intervene . . . Harry likes to keep everyone on their toes!

Intentions

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Wed, 10 Jul 2013 02:30:00 +0000

It is morning. Before I even open my eyes I have the very best of intentions: Amabel and I will do a language lesson and walk the dogs before Ellen wakes; then we'll make breakfast, start laundry, and tidy up; the girls and I will read together; and then maybe I'll sneak into my office for a bit of work.

But then I see the day. The hills are covered in a delightful mist that is sure to lift before noon, and so I revise my plan. We'll go outside first. We'll go out to feed the chickens and then take a little walk. A short walk.

But our short walk turns into a long meander, because the girls want to go pick cherries and it is just so lovely outside. Last week, when we were looking for mulberries, Amabel discovered a sort of miniature cherry tree, standing alone in a quiet meadow. To the south, our neighbor farmer owns hundreds of acres of orchards that stretch out over the hills. But this lonely tree stands apart, looking as if it was left behind long ago. . .

Or perhaps it was not left behind. Maybe it has simply been waiting for someone to discover it. Maybe it has been waiting for two little people . . . because it is, after all, just their size!

Their little hands are soon busy, picking. Their little mouths are busy, chattering. Tasting. Comparing notes. Are they ripe? A little sweet. A little sour. Yes, they are ripe.

By now I have lost all track of time, and my morning intentions have floated far out of my consciousness. I am in the meadow with girls, dogs, and tall, waving grasses. I am surrounded by bird song, moist air, and happy, chirping voices.

The language lesson, the cleaning, the work: it can all wait. And now there are cherries for breakfast.

Welcome Home, Birds!

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Sun, 07 Jul 2013 03:57:00 +0000

We had a chicken housewarming party tonight! Although Amabel and Ellen really wanted to continue using the coop as a playhouse, we all agreed that it was time for the birds to move into their permanent dwelling. So we rolled their outgrown dog cage outside for the last time and marched down the hill in a happy procession. The girls helped spread chicken bedding and set up a roosting branch, and then they carefully transferred all the chickens into their new digs.

Thanks to many hours of labor on Jeffrey's part (and still more to come), our chickens have a state-of-the-art home. Our neighbor, who works as a builder, came over at one point to ask (jokingly) if we had a building permit. "That's way too nice for chickens," he said. "You could live in there!" As Jeffrey's cousin said, you have to be careful when you ask an architectural designer to build a chicken coop. I promise to give you a full tour when it is all finished. In the meantime, I hope the birds appreciate their living arrangements!

If you happen to be wondering about Harry and Nancy . . . no, the terriers were not invited to the party. Let's just say we're still working on our dog—chicken relations. And if you are also wondering what is all over Ellen's face in these pictures . . . the girls picked mulberries for the celebration to share with the birds. Because a housewarming party just wouldn't be complete without refreshments!

Independence Day

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 05 Jul 2013 03:11:00 +0000

Lemonade for Sale

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Wed, 03 Jul 2013 16:02:00 +0000

Cousin Cora invited Amabel and Ellen over to take advantage of the Cherry Festival crowds in town this week. The girls sold lemonade, cookies, and bracelets for three hours straight . . . with only one minor melt down when business was slow. I sat in the shade, watching this enthusiastic little team skip back and forth down the sidewalk—calling out and waving to passersby.

I sat there thinking about these girls growing up together. They share things in ways that only cousins can. They can take turns being in charge, following along, listening carefully, talking loudly, sharing happily, arguing passionately . . . all in the safety of family. I'm so grateful for that: for the family that surrounds us and gives us so many opportunities to learn to live well together.

Savoring June

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 03:29:00 +0000

The first half of the month was incredibly full for our family. But this past week, we have slowed down, letting ourselves linger in June . . .

Admiring the blooming plants all around us;

Enjoying the early fruits of our garden;

Spending time with cousins;

Passing a little time in our fairy gardens;

And taking long, leisurely walks with our resident Irish twins (who do slow down a bit in the heat, thank goodness!).

Oh how we love you, June.

Meadowlark Strawberries

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 21 Jun 2013 03:08:00 +0000

Yesterday we visited Meadowlark Farm and spent a delicious hour in the strawberry patch with family and friends. Amidst all the picking and munching, I couldn't resist taking a few photos of these beautiful strawberry-headed girls in their element!

We have the privilege of being a part of the magical place known as Meadowlark. We are ever-grateful CSA members, nourished by the food and friends that grow here. Every time we visit, I get nostalgic because of the history we share with Jenny and Jon, the farmers; Ella and Eli, their children; and the many wonderful people who work on this land. Meadowlark is truly a community farm. Every time we pull up and Amabel and Ellen jump out of the car, we are immediately welcome. Welcome to wander about; welcome to ask questions; welcome to stay a while and help out. And—yesterday—welcome to explore the rows of incredibly plump strawberries to our heart's content!

As part of my senior thesis project in college, I visited twenty organic farms in Northwest Michigan. I interviewed the farmers and tried to capture the essence of each unique family and place on the map. I remember then being particularly struck by the underlying spirit of abundance present at Meadowlark Farm. This abundant spirit is reflected not only in their beautiful produce and healthy land—but also in the time this family gives so freely to visitors. When we come to pick up our vegetables in the coldest months of the year (Meadowlark provides winter and spring shares too!), I always hope I will happen to cross paths with Jenny or Jon. I always have questions; and I am always in awe of how they share the gifts of their land and their incredible work with so many local families. To them—this is the work they do every day. To me—this is one of the most honorable livelihoods imaginable. And they do it with such grace and joy.

Thank you, Meadowlark, for nourishing our family and so many others. (And, yes, you may have noticed that Amabel decided to fill her dress with strawberries after her carton was overflowing!)

Chicken Conversation

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 02:36:00 +0000

I love watching our girls with their chickens. Amabel and Ellen are constantly naming, renaming, and otherwise attaching human-ish identities to the birds. And the birds are amazingly tolerant and docile with their little handlers. If time would allow (and a certain terrier would cooperate), I could watch them all day.

Can't you just imagine the conversation between these two?!

The truth is, we are total chicken novices around here. We didn't even read a book about chickens before we took the plunge, and we are still debating about their living situation (chicken tractor or no chicken tractor; free range or confinement?). In the meantime, we have been moving their cage (a retro-fitted old dog crate) in and out of our walk-out basement each day, while Jeffrey finishes the coop and I train the dog. Jeffrey is doing his part, but I haven't been as diligent. Although I am still hoping that Harry will become a stellar livestock guard dog, I admit that this might be total wishful thinking on my part. It is very possible that Harry will forever be a predator rather than a protector. I wonder if anyone out there in the world of the internet has experience with Irish Terriers and chickens? Anyone wish to pass on words of advice?

Harry is okay if I am right there next to him, reminding him not to get too close with his mouth; but I don't trust him alone. Consequently, he has been getting a lot of early morning and late evening walks, when the chickens are still in. How we are going to make the transition to chickens outside full time with Harry around, I'm not quite sure. I hope we all survive it.

Flyaway

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Sun, 02 Jun 2013 17:45:00 +0000

The dandelions were out in full glory last week. One evening, after a particularly long series of humbling events, I stretched out in our carpet of thyme with the camera and watched a mass of white heads disperse, as Amabel's breath sent their glowing seeds across the hill.

That's what I want to do this summer: send some of my old ideas, leftover intentions, and outgrown commitments soaring across the sky . . . and let the wind carry them away. Maybe they will land and take root somewhere else. But right now, I need a little more space in my consciousness. I need to clear away the seed heads of a host of winter dreams and make room for new growth.

(Harry, sporting a little bling, was also watching Amabel that lovely evening.)

Treat Farm

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Thu, 30 May 2013 16:20:00 +0000

Ever since my sister-in-law Kim shared her discovery of Treat Farm last fall (and posted beautiful photos again early this spring), I've been wanting to visit this tucked-away place. So when Boppa and Gommy suggested that we go for a hike to this old farmstead last weekend, I was delighted.

This peaceful property is a part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. But unlike most places where the public is welcome, there are no trail markers, plaques, or signs of any kind. The history of the land remains a bit of a mystery to visitors passing through.

A narrow winding path leads away from the farm buildings, out into the meadow, and through the woods before it opens up on a tremendous bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. As we stood in awe of the view, we wondered together who came before us, all those years ago, and settled in this beautiful place.

On the Hunt

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Thu, 23 May 2013 03:17:00 +0000

Today we went on a very successful morel hunt with my brother Chris, sister-in-law Lara, and their son Julien. We ventured into the Gousty woods, and Ellen found the first morel of the day. Describing her mushroom in a most matter-a-fact tone, she said, "I saw a little squiggly thing, so I looked down to check if it was a morel. It was a morel, so I picked it."

Ahh, Ellen. If only life were so wonderfully simple. And yet it's true that a morning in the woods with people I love was just what I needed today. Everything did feel right with the world when we were mushroom hunting. As Chris pointed out: finding morels is a lesson in scarcity. The beauty, the wonder in scarcity. Finding even one little lone soldier is exciting. Everyone crowds around to have a look.

Finding a cluster of two or three brings everyone down on their hands and knees. Little people have an advantage here, I think. Morel hunting is slow work, and it helps to be close to the ground.

Also, morel mushrooms look remarkably like gnome hats, hiding miniature people trooping along the forest floor. Maybe this is part of their appeal to the younger ones.

'

The morels were carefully carried home, perfectly prepared for lunch, and thoroughly enjoyed. They are beautiful, delicious, and—perhaps most importantly—scarce. I asked Chris if he thought we could come back on Tuesday, with a friend, to find more. "As in a week from yesterday?" He asked with his eyebrows raised. "No, they'll be finished by then. The leaves are nearly all out now. After the leaves come out, the morels are done."

Sometimes the most precious things are the most fleeting. At least it helps to hold them in our hands for a moment.

Little Paul

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Wed, 22 May 2013 00:30:00 +0000

Harry's brother, Paul, came for a visit this evening. Okay, so we're not sure if this sweet little pup is actually Harry's brother. Half-brother—maybe. Honorary brother—for sure! The girls fell in love with Paul. They were barely willing to share him with big brother Harry.

Our friends, Hillary and Matt, generously let the girls pamper their puppy, even allowing Amabel and Ellen to snuggle Paul up in a doll bed. I knew the girls would be excited to spend time with a pup, but I hadn't imagined how utterly taken they would be. When we were talking about Paul after his visit, Amabel was adamant that Harry was never that small. She really, truly didn't believe me until I showed her photos of little Harry last summer. At first Amabel said, "No! That's not Harry—that's Paul!" But then she looked closer and couldn't dispute the fact: our Harry has grown up.

Oh, puppy love! We hope Paul and his family will come back again soon!

Springing

noreply@blogger.com (Zane Kathryne Schwaiger) — Fri, 10 May 2013 03:00:00 +0000

The world all around us is coming alive. Amabel came in this morning saying, "It smells so good outside. Mama, you have to come out and just smell."

Today we finished listening to The Secret Garden as an audiobook—and what wonderful timing. Amabel and I were amazed to learn that the story was written over 100 years ago. It is truly a timeless classic. I love Dicken's use of the Yorkshire word "wick" to tell Mary that the garden is still alive and well. I keep thinking of his words as I look about me this week. Mary, Dicken, and Colin have inspired us to spend even more time in our garden!

This is our first year sheet mulching, permaculture style. I have to admit that I was skeptical last fall when Jeffrey and I were putting down the layers . . . but after pulling back the mulch to plant our first kale and cabbage starts this week—I'm sold on the method! The soil underneath the was moist and teeming with worms. And the bed is nearly weed free. Brilliant.

Our apricot tree is blooming! Last year it was little more than a twig. I'm not sure if we'll actually get any apricots this summer, but the scent of the blooms is enough to make me dream.

Our rows of garlic are growing; trays of baby plants are thriving; and the chicks are getting bigger every day.

And, to my great delight, the girls brought in the very first bouquet of the season! So very much to be grateful for this week.