Starting Ancient Ponies Farm at age 60
A Garden Raising is when friends and neighbors come to help someone put in a new garden. We were planning on having our garden raising tomorrow but hurricane Jose is making his way up the coast and will make tomorrow a very rainy day. We postponed it to Sunday, October 1. Everyone is welcome. I’ve posted a picture of the garden plan. During the day we will be creating the beds that circle the herb garden. Continue reading “Garden Raising, Hickory Nuts and Cornelian Cherries”
When I reflect on my life, I see that even since just a year ago, there has been tremendous internal and external change. I wonder which came first? A year ago, I lived in my little cabin as a bit of a recluse. I did not want to go out much, even to buy groceries or have dinner with friends. Somehow, this felt right for a few years though it was a small little life. There was most definitely a sense of agoraphobia mixed in as well. Going out too much, except for going to the barn to ride or going to teach, provoked some anxiety. Continue reading “Agoraphobia to Agri-Myco-Equi-philia”
For years my morning routine has been to get to work. I heat up a big bowl of raw milk and put a shot of espresso in it and sit down to study, prepare lectures, translate. Now with Ancient Ponies Farm, this is all changing. Now there are morning chores. So far the chores are pretty easy for me but I am looking forward to more as the farm takes shape. For now, I get up before the birds (which moved from 4:30 when I first moved in to 5:15 in such a short time!) and walk out to the barn to give the horses their morning grain. With all the grass here, they don’t actually need the grain but I give them a token amount so we have some morning and evening routine together. Then I have to muck the stalls. This takes less than 20 minutes I would say. Continue reading “Chores”
Last year there was a drought. I went out to my secret places regularly but never found a single black trumpet. The year before, my friend Danielle and I found more than 30 pounds of them but last year, nothing. So, when I came upon a colony of them, imagine my happiness! It had been nearly two years since I’d seen them, my friends. Plus, there is something very happy about a village of black trumpets. I cut them with scissors so as not to disturb the root that connects the flower to the mycelium below and cut judiciously, just enough to eat and some to give away. Continue reading “Other Dark Friends are Here Too”