Visits by family...

When I visited Lebanon in 2004, my traveling companions and I spent a day visiting relatives in the mountain village of Bane. I use the term “relatives” cautiously because the people I met in Bane I’d never seen before and realistically will never see again. Yet we shared a bloodline however diluted, and so, strangely, we seemed to belong to each other.

I recall stepping out of the car and having an old woman embrace me, kiss me, then walk me to her home, all the while clutching my arm and rattling in a language that was at once foreign and familiar. As we walked, her non-verbal communication opened an understanding of my role in her life. She held me tightly; I belonged to her.

This open hospitality, this welcoming embrace, is of course deserved by all visitors to all places.

Tomorrow, I’m fortunate to welcome back to Four Cedars my Hungarian travelers. I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself. There will be food and libation, and no doubt chores for them too. But mostly, there will be hugs and kisses and rattling of words as we walk arm and arm into the “family” home. At Four Cedars, all visitors are family.

Just another site along the (super)highway...

I've only been to Ohio once and it wasn't for long enough to really get a sense for its culture. Nevertheless, I suspect there's something not quite right in the water there.

I give you exhibit A, a run-of-the-mill office building in Newark, Ohio...

I stumbled upon this shot of the home office for the Longaberger Basket company while doing a Google Image search for "baskets." Who'd have figured I'd find one that included an elevator.

My question is, do you think there's a giant fried chicken, potato salad, and an extra large bottle of wine inside? And how long does it take to fold the napkins? And of course, wherever there's a picnic, there are ants... . Yikes!

A day off...

Sunday brought us weather that is as close to perfection as I'm likely to find in Blue Earth County. The sky was powder blue, tufts of cloud drifted lazily across the open expanse, and the line of trees at lake-side filtered the wind into a aural shimmer. So I decided to take the day off...from weeding, from blogging, from editing, from thinking. So serious was I to not taint a full day's respite from mental activity, I didn't just steer clear of my computer; I turned it off.

Instead, coffee was sipped outdoors. I read an article about making cheese. I baked cookies. I pulled onions and herbs from the garden and prepped them for future meal-making. I cut carrots. I took a nap in the hammock. I gazed at the vineyard for long stretches, taking in the sight of more than 600 vibrant vines climbing toward heaven. I took stock of the weeds underfoot, knowing that this was a chore left for another day.

Animal farm...

Farm dog (nasty predator that he is) has been banished from Four Cedars ever since the flock of Targhees arrived. And while the ewes add a certain character to the backside of the vineyard, they still regard me suspiciously and from a safe distance. In other words, we haven't exactly bonded, which I suppose is a good thing since one of them might spend the winter in my freezer.

That's left me no one to talk to this week except for the chickens. Fortunately, my three hens and two roosters are attentive listeners. And unlike the sheep, they greet me enthusiastically every time I pass nearby. This leaves me in a quandry. With two of the five unable to provide for my breakfast, will I have the heart (or the stomach) to turn them into supper.

Time will tell. Maybe I could assign that task to farm dog, nasty predator that he is. He returns with hubby this Friday!

The LeSeuer County herd at Blue Earth County summer camp.