I am dismayed to see that I loaded these photos on 2nd February!
I can truthfully plead that life has been busy as we commute between our two properties almost daily.
We pass a small dairy farm on a back road and have been intrigued by the gathering of felines outside the milk house. Although the numbers present vary, we are starting to recognize several of the more distinctively marked cats.
I would guess that spaying/neutering isn't part of their care, but we often see the farmer pouring milk into a collection of pans. The cats appear to be reasonably well fed and domesticated. Jim stopped the car and I put down the window to take the above photo.
We've had a few sunny days, but for the most part the weather has been raw, with temps below freezing each morning. Mornings at the stone house involve caring for the cats, making any necessary phone calls, filling the stove with wood and bundling into the car with whatever food stuffs, tools, and oddments need to be carried to the farm.
Once there, a fire must be kindled in the big range, the barn cats tended.
While the kitchen is warming up, I sometimes go into the wooded area beyond the stable to gather fallen twigs and branches for kindling, or walk down the lane to the lower house. Either of these options are more invigorating than huddling over the stove in the chilly house.
Tucked near the foundation on the south side of the lower house I have discovered two tiny violas. They continue to blossom jauntily in spite of the cold weather.
There was one morning of snow, sparkling and clean, melted by noon.
When we return, usually just after dark, the cats rush to the door to greet us.
I wonder how they spend their days alone.
Bobby Mac and his brothers enjoy the view from this chest in front of the living room windows. From this vantage point they can watch birds on the lawn, monitor any feral cats who come to the dish on the porch, note the ponderous movements of the cattle in the pasture beyond the road.
Less adventurous family members stay warm by the fire in the basement.
We are mobbed before we are well inside the door in the evening!
We are treated to lengthy tirades of neglect and near starvation, and reminded that it is well past
'time for tea!'
One of us dishes out tinned food while the other mends the basement fire.
With the 'fishy food' consumed, cuddles and attention lavished, we settle in for the evening.
Evening has always been when I experience my 'second wind' and can use the time for reading, writing, creating.
The hours are still there, of course, but I'm finding that I am usually rather witless, lacking the energy to sew or gather my thoughts for a blog post.
My study is one of the chillier rooms in the house, and we are feeling too frugal to turn on the
I have set up my laptop downstairs in the area near the stove.
It is an aggravating device--slow, and cursed with a number of malfunctions which interfere with putting down a smooth flow of thoughts.
Our days are full of repetitive tasks--one can write only so much about the frustrations of painting over walls which have previously been daubed by painters whose field of expertise was obviously in another realm!
That grumble aside, progress is being made.
[The laptop just shut down after a number of hitches and jerks, so back upstairs to my chilly study to finish this rambling journal.]
Since I must shiver in front of my desktop PC, I'm adding a few food photos.
My efforts at producing meals on the wood cook stove are interesting, if something of a learning curve. The temperature of both cook top and oven depend on the type and quantity of wood we've chucked into the firebox, the adjustment of the drafts and dampers, and thus far we don't have that down to a science.
Last week we ate breakfast there on several days--a large mid-morning meal to fuel us for
hours of work.
Above you see baked potatoes [from the previous day] crisply fried, baking powder biscuits smothered in dried beef cream gravy with an egg on the side.
When I posted this pic on Face Book several people remarked that it was a cholesterol-laden meal.
[Of course I noted on my google news page this week that the 'experts' are reversing their warnings about the dangers of eating eggs!]
This is the sort of country food which our parents and grandparents ate.
On other days we may have toast from home made bread and a bowl of oatmeal porridge.
I daresay we are working off calories and fats!
Peanut butter cookies baked in the wood stove oven--and they didn't burn!
I have made bread twice at the farmhouse.
There is a temperature gauge on the front of the oven, so we do have some idea whether we are likely to burn the bread or if it will sit sulking in a slow oven.
I'm finding that the wood stove produces a crisper crust and the bread is 'done' in a shorter time.
As you can see, it was quickly sliced and consumed, buttery and warm.
The second baking was good--although I felt the oven didn't heat as quickly as I expected.
I had to fuss with the stove and shuffle the bread tins around to have the loaves evenly baked.
I took my camera on one of my walks down the lane.
The pasture fence is festooned with the dried pods of milkweed.
Winter-bleached vines tangle through the boards and along the wire--morning glory, perhaps.
Come spring identification will be easier.
Fox Squirrel--web photo.
We have at least one of these creatures frisking about on the fence near the stable.
I tried to approach very quietly with my camera, but the squirrel skittered off into the brush heap beyond the fence.
We have since learned that fox squirrels are common in the southern Appalachians and their territory extends to our area of south-central Kentucky.
The one we noted had splotches of white on a darker face.
The fox squirrel is only one of the wildlings gobbling the kibble from the barn cats' feeder.
The omni-present opossums have been sighted as well.
I end my post with a photo of the shower stall which Jim built and tiled.
The area above the shower has since been painted, the bathroom vanity is in place, a cupboard fastened on the wall behind the door.
We painted the new walls an agreeable warm shade called 'Almond Sugar.'
We have a target date for moving to the farm--hoping to be in residence during the last week of February. I've arranged for our internet and phone service to be transferred--a new installation necessary, so we may be 'disconnected' for a few days.
Cats to move--furniture--dishes--books--clothing which will no way fit into the tiny closets favored by the Amish!
The two farmhouses will continue to be 'works in progress.'
I'm hoping once the predictable exhaustion of completing the move has [somewhat] been dealt with, we can enjoy the springtime while becoming better acquainted with our new property, preparing a vegetable plot, finding a spot suitable for a hedge of shrub roses, creating an herb garden.
I remind myself frequently that we 'are not as young as we used to be!'
I need to be realistic about the time line for projects to be accomplished.
I need to be a bit gentle with myself!
I am tired--aching--but I am excited!