A Promise

Do you know what this is?

This is an unretouched, uncropped, unvarnished promise.

The promise of shade from the summer sun.

The promise of afternoons spent lying in the grass underneath wide branches.

The promise of leafy treetops and blossoms in the spring.

The promise of little grand baby faces crunching crisp, sweet fruit and Tanner tucking into his favorite dessert.

This is an apple tree.

It's the first fruit tree we've planted on our little farm and it won't be the last.

Because we are going to stay here the rest of our lives and make this place a place the kids and grand kids and their kids always treasure and yearn to return to.

I promise.

Love from the farm,

Teri

Patience

This lone spear will be the sum total of our asparagus harvest this year. That's it. One crisp, delectable spear. See, you plant asparagus the first year, don't harvest it, wait till the following year, don't harvest then either, and then harvest lightly the following year. And then, you only enjoy the harvest if you don't mistakenly assume that snowstorms and freezes kept the growth at bay.

So, while we had more than one sprig mature to eating size this year, the others grew to crazy proportions during the week I didn't check on them and we missed our window. Patience and vigilance required for this tasty crop. Lazy gardeners need not apply.

I will be ordering loads more asparagus starts this week so we can plant the fence line of our property that abuts the alfalfa field and the spears can take advantage of the heavy watering of the hay. We love asparagus and I want hefty crops in years to come. If I order now, then we can all enjoy a nice big bowl of asparagus for dinner.

In 2016.

Mark your calendar.

As I said, patience.

Love from the farm,
Teri

Comfort

With the hard news of the week coming out of Boston and Texas, I'm just feeling a little extra need to comfort and be comforted around here. Prayers, prayers for all those who are hurting, scared, troubled and sad.

And here are three of our four wee barn kittens. Or more accurately , shed kittens. When we took them to the barn we discovered a big white owl in there wreaking havoc on the invading pigeon population and we didn't want to distract him from that much appreciated task. Nor did we want to provide him a furry four-course meal. So off to the shed they went - having them hunt scurrying critters closer to the house is not a bad thing at all.

Wish we had kittens enough for all the children affected by this week's events to cuddle. Cuddling helps.

Much love from the farm,
Teri