Kohler's Pig by Michael Sowa

 

Have you ever had an image reach into your being and tell you secrets about yourself?

Many years ago - many, many, many years ago - my best friend and I were doing a bit of "shopping" to while away the hours of a Friday night. Being the frugal sort, I rarely bought anything I didn't truly need, but those evenings were about spending time together more than our purchasing power. One night we walked into a home decorating outlet and saw Kohler's Pig by Michael Sowa. We were both immediately drawn to it. She purchased the print right away. I needed to think about it before I parted with that much cash. Ultimately, I went back the next morning and got a copy. 

I have no idea why it's entitled, "Kohler's Pig." It's never mattered to me. What mattered is the little pig. 

Quite a few of us have heard the expression, “when pigs fly!” (Well, if you live below the Mason-Dixon Line you know it.) This familiar southern expression is the essence of impossibilities. "When pigs fly" is the no way, no how, no when, ain't ever gonna come to pass and why would you think otherwise of a mundane life. 

My parents didn't use the expression, not in so many words, but I grew up believing they expected little of me. Consequently, I expected little of myself until I turned thirty and had the first of many epiphanies. 

Thank God for my grandparents, and for this anonymous little pig. 

So think about the pig leaping off that peer. 

After being told all her life she can’t fly, she proves them wrong. Let the naysayers keep telling her it’s not possible. She knows. 

It doesn’t matter she’s alone and no one sees her do it. She knows in her heart she can fly because for a few glorious moments, she did it. If even for a singular glorious moment, she did it! 

So many of my victories are like the little pig flying. They've happened in quiet secret moments experienced alone. Does that make them less valid? I think it makes them more so. 

I don't need false accolades and praise any more than I need to prove myself to others. Neither does the little pig. 

She hangs in front of me as I sit at my desk, a constant reminder that I know how to soar. No romantic spirit animal for me. No wolf, no bear, no bison, no fox, no coyote. Mine is the little pig who still speaks to me even after thirty years, reminding me we fly together. 

She knows. Fly on! 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

'Tis spring!

Spring is a busy season at Holly Tree Manor. The outside work ramps up and the inside of the house suffers from a lack of attention. Thankfully, we're both old enough to know a couple of dog fur dust bunnies won't harm us but tall grass harbors critters that may. This past week I talked with the cousin as he was removing a little, relatively harmless, hognose snake he found "sleeping" under his pickup. The theory is the little guy was drawn there by the residual heat off the engine. It's definitely time to watch where I put my feet when Deuce and I are in the woods. 

Last weekend, I got the mulching done around the patio and along the front porch. There is a bit more to do after I replace a rose bush that died over the winter. That will happen sometime later today. 

The plan for the new patio grilling/canning/storage area has been finalized, at least in my mind. With lumber prices being what they are, we're purchasing pre-made cabinets and countertops for a fraction of the cost of building them. It's unreal. 

Yesterday, I made a sweep around the yard and picked up those sticks large enough to damage the John Deers 370 and tossed them on the brush pile. I got the front yard mowed and decided the back could wait a day. I wanted to get soil into the food-safe five-gallon buckets in preparation for getting the pepper plants outside. After filling the buckets, we made a fast trip to the garden center for another bag of Black Kow, some peat moss, and vermiculite. Burpee's sent me an email saying my strawberries should ship soon and I need to have soil ready for them. 

One of my biggest concerns this year is digging a drainage swale in the backyard. Our property is about one-third the way up the side of a mountain and we get a lot of water flowing through during hard rains. The earth isn't static and something above has changed enough that we have a developing problem. There's no way to prevent the water from draining through so we can only attempt to manage it. Thank heavens for the John Deere 1023. 

The list of things to do goes on, seemingly into infinity. Crossing one thing off the list adds two more. It's good to stay busy but it's also good to stop and enjoy what has been accomplished. I'm sure that will happen in a few weeks when the air warms to the point that I don't need to be active to keep warm. 

Until then, spring has sprung and I'll enjoy ticking items off my to-do list and marveling at the many shades of green. 

And adding things to the list. I just noticed it's time to tie the peonies. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Cat and dog, dog and cat

A lot of my memories are tied to what dog I had at a particular time. There was Rebel, the dog of my childhood. Reba graced my teen years. Then there's a bit of a gap when I married for the first time and was absorbed in growing up. Then came the Callahan years - my companion after that first marriage ended and I lived without a human companion for many years. After Callahan, there's another short gap while I grieved the loss of a true and faithful friend. Life doesn't give you many of those, so treasure them. Then came the Jett years, and now we live in the time of Deuce. 

Ah, Deuce. Is it because he's with me now or because he IS so very special. He's far and away the most intelligent dog I've ever known. The philosophical may have to wait. 

Spring is finally here on the manor. It was above sixty degrees Fahrenheit when I arose at six o'clock this morning and that's a very good sign. I'll have to go outside after dark this evening and listen for the peeper frogs - the real harbingers of spring. 

Regardless of the season, mornings with Deuce don't vary. I get up and let him out and back in, then shower and dress. Once dressed, he and I head out for a short morning stroll during which he completes his outside activities for the morning. Being a warm morning, Loki accompanied us today. 

Loki is a fine little feline who believes he's a lion or at least a big cat. He's not. At only ten pounds, he's the smallest cat I've ever owned. But he is the most ferocious. 

We stopped long enough for me to snap a couple of pictures of the daffodils and snowglories, and Deuce and Loki put on a little show for me. I would have filmed it had I know they were about to perform, but they gave me no warning. Who knew Loki would leap from his perch and the dog would run? For about ten paces, and then the game got switched and Loki ended up in a maple tree. It may not amuse a city dweller, but my boys having fun gave me a good laugh to start the day. 

Thank you, dog and cat. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Terrace wall repair

There's never a lack of projects to do here at the manor.  One we've put off, for one reason or another, is repairing the west terrace wall. 

This wall has a bit of a sad story. It was constructed near the end of 2004 after Himself was diagnosed with cancer for the second time. The prognosis was pretty grim. It was colon cancer that had metastasized to his liver and the doctor at Johns Hopkins deemed it to be "inoperable," and therefore terminal. 

Doctors CAN be wrong. 

It was under this dark cloud that he took on the project, firmly believing it would be the last thing he ever did to improve the manor. 

The wall lasted over a decade, but time and water will always win. The last section built has collapsed. Last summer it was only a small collapse and close inspection showed a larger one was imminent. We determined it would be better to allow the hostas to bloom another year, wait for the collapse, and then effect a more substantial repair. 

And so here we are. When the weather improves and the ground dries and firms up, we have a job to do. It's not as difficult as it may appear. The remnants of the old wall will get scooped up in the bucket of the John Deere and dropped on the lower stone fence. Using the backhoe, we'll dig out some soil and prepare level ground for the foundation. After that is finished, it will be time to select some substantial stones from the upper stone fence and rebuild the wall. 

With any luck, it will only take us a weekend. Like everything here at the manor, the weather is the key factor. No matter how many Saturday afternoons it may take, we'll both be glad to have it done. 

That wall is like a metaphor for his life. If a section crumbles, it's time to pick yourself up, fix it, and keep going. And that's how we do it at Holly Tree Manor.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Elder and Crone

Of Christmas snow, I would wish

for it to kiss the ground

Pristine and white falling down, 

to the earth forever bound

Silent night gives way to day, 

quiet stirrings under brightest rays

The fire warms, the cat sleeps on, 

wrapped in quiet, steeped in peace

The elder and the crone, as we have now become

Sip coffee and smile, hidden behind our walls

Tasks fulfilled, our legacy fading (as it should)

Indulgent to our past, memories notwithstanding

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Christmas Eve 2020

 

The time draws near the birth of Christ:

The moon is hid; the night is still;

The Christmas bells from hill to hill

Answer each other in the mist.

Four voices of four hamlets round,

From far and near, on mead and moor,

Swell out and fail, as if a door

Were shut between me and the sound:

Each voice four changes on the wind,

That now dilate, and new decrease,

Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,

Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-92)

Snow days!

On December 16, 2020, we had a rare December snowfall. The weather folks predicted it with dire warnings - up to fifteen inches in our area. Himself and I took it with a grain of salt. Our particular micro-climate might get a snow flurry or two in December, but almost never anything like fifteen inches. Still, we prepared. 

The John Deere 1023 was fueled and ready to go. Ditto for the generator. I did the vehicle shuffle to bring the Silverado closest to the house. I'm already doing a good portion of my day job work at home but I made sure my data backup on the memory stick was as current as possible. I spent most of the day Tuesday in my day job office and came home prepared to be home until at least Thursday. It turned out to be Friday. 

Working from home is not a hardship at all. But I've learned one thing - it takes the joy out of having a "snow day." Other than the beauty of the snow, these two days haven't been very special. Thank you, Covid-19 for ruining yet one more aspect of life. 

The forecast overreached. We got four inches of powder followed by an inch of ice that was capped off with another three inches of powder. Instead of a two-day event, it was a sixteen-hour event. It began around 9 AM on Wednesday and ended around 2 AM Thursday. Thursday morning dawned with a pink, gold, and blue sky, and the sunshine lasted all day. I ran the snowblower for no good reason except to play in the snow and I captured some video and still shots. And I did do some work for the day job. 

I look forward to the days when I don't need to clean off vehicles and run the snowblower. I might have spent my day in my cozy sunroom office just enjoying the view if I were retired. When that happens, I think snow days will take on a deeper level of joy. Sometimes it's good to enjoy life as if a child. A snow day is a perfect day to do that. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

A Sunday afternoon walk, December 13, 2020

the old pond 12/13/2020

This past Sunday was a beautiful December day, and I decided to see if my dog wanted to go for a walk. Deuce is a wonderful companion and he's always ready to go. I've been keeping a blog for him, from his point of view, so I can always remember these few years I'll have with him. He may be the last dog to share my life and I never want to forget him. His blog is called Deuce's Day. 

It's been a while since I've been back in the woods beyond the short trail past the reservoir. With good walking days in short supply until spring, Deuce and I set about making a large loop. We walked along an old homestead lane, crossed over to the old pond, and back down the hill past what is left of the homestead, which isn't much. A few shrubs gone wild, the remnants of an old meadow, the depressions where the house and barn stood, and old grapevines as thick as my arm are all that remains. 

And yet I bet if I walk that trail in the spring, there will be daffodils and daylilies in abundance. The forsythia row will bloom with a splendor it lacked in bygone days when it was kept pruned.

dry creekbed where I used to play

I was pleasantly surprised to find water in the old pond. Not much water, but enough to draw Deuce's attention. I'm sure all he saw was MUD PUDDLE! YES!  Ever obedient, he stopped in his tracks and came back when I called him else it would have been time for a bucket bath when we returned home. 

While I was pleased to see water in the pond, I was not so pleased to find a familiar old creek bed dry. When I was a girl, about thirteen or fourteen, myself and two girlfriends would ride our bicycles back the lane to that section of the creek and while away the hours. We built a rather substantial dam, which is still detectable, and ended up with water that was hip deep. Not a bad feat for three country kids. This creek was entirely spring-fed so I do wonder what happened. Did the earthquake of August 23, 2011, close the spring? It's possible. It's been that long since I was back there. 

Our walk was a good metaphor for life. You traverse a path both old and new and find things changed. Some changes are for good and some for not so good. Deuce and I had a great time just being outside in the woods on a sunny afternoon. 

It's a good thing we took advantage of the day. This afternoon, there are three inches of snow on the ground and it's still coming down.  It's a good day to advance old projects and dream a few new. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor