"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but power. They speak more eloquently that ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love."
Washington Irving
Reflecting on life this morning, I say this is true.
Overwhelming grief at the loss of a life so young and the possibility of a wonderful new family filled with adventure, love, stories, vacations and children. The loss of a sister not old enough to go and parents who were so special.
Deep contrition over actions and inactions. Over words said and words not said. Over sin and self focus.
And unspeakable love.....That my God has for me and I for Him. A love so bold and deep that my Savior gave His life for me. A husband's love experienced and a fountain of love; so strong, so powerful, flowing continuously to four beautiful, wonderful blessings.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Our First Dozen
The first dozen have already been secured.
Actually I have around 16 eggs now, all since Monday. The girls are good producers. I think they like their new home
Rob actually got home before 10:00pm last night, so he wanted to see how I "put the girls to bed for the night". I showed him my little routine and when he went into the coop he found an egg. He was so excited to get his first egg!
My first dozen.
My neighbor, Anne, thought we should name the girls. When I told Aunt June about naming the chickens she said they should have Norwegian names. We thought about that, looked on line for Scandinavian names, and then decided on some names that we were familiar with from our family.
This is a Rhode Island Red and we named her Gurli.
This is a Golden Laced Wyondotte, we named her after my great grandmother, Gurine.
Astrid is our Golden Comet. She is the smallest of our flock, just like my grandmother who was the most petite in our family.
Brigitta is the name for our Delaware.
Then we have the twin Buff Orphingtons who now are called Rigmar and Borghild.
For those of you not familiar with Norwegian names these may seem like tongue twisters. But we are following the theme of our new enterprise, even to our chickens. Actually, I have recently become aware of some heritage chickens from Sweden, Swedish Flower Hens. They are a bred that have been found in some remote villages of Sweden and have been brought over here to the USA to keep the bred going by conscientiously breeding and raising flocks. They are very pretty, and maybe if my experiment goes well I get a few someday. Well see.
Meanwhile, I'm having fun with my little group of cluckers.
Actually I have around 16 eggs now, all since Monday. The girls are good producers. I think they like their new home
Rob actually got home before 10:00pm last night, so he wanted to see how I "put the girls to bed for the night". I showed him my little routine and when he went into the coop he found an egg. He was so excited to get his first egg!
My first dozen.
My neighbor, Anne, thought we should name the girls. When I told Aunt June about naming the chickens she said they should have Norwegian names. We thought about that, looked on line for Scandinavian names, and then decided on some names that we were familiar with from our family.
This is a Rhode Island Red and we named her Gurli.
This is a Golden Laced Wyondotte, we named her after my great grandmother, Gurine.
Astrid is our Golden Comet. She is the smallest of our flock, just like my grandmother who was the most petite in our family.
Brigitta is the name for our Delaware.
Then we have the twin Buff Orphingtons who now are called Rigmar and Borghild.
For those of you not familiar with Norwegian names these may seem like tongue twisters. But we are following the theme of our new enterprise, even to our chickens. Actually, I have recently become aware of some heritage chickens from Sweden, Swedish Flower Hens. They are a bred that have been found in some remote villages of Sweden and have been brought over here to the USA to keep the bred going by conscientiously breeding and raising flocks. They are very pretty, and maybe if my experiment goes well I get a few someday. Well see.
Meanwhile, I'm having fun with my little group of cluckers.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The First 24 Hours...A Saga
The girls are here......and we survived the first 24 hours.
They came at dusk, around 8:00pm, on Sunday.
Rob and I had worked the weekend on getting the coop ready, the nesting boxes modified and attached to the wall, the bedding spread, the roosting bars made and secured, the waterer and feeder in place and filled, and we built an outside pen so they could roam and scratch a bit.
After we got them settled in their new home, Rob had to go to the office to do some work. When he came home aroung 10:30pm, he said the girls were all roosting and everything seemed calm. How cute! He had gone in with a flashlight to check and see if they were doing okay before he came home.
And on Monday morning they had their first visitors. They seemed very happy with their new diggs and were very friendly and inquisitive with all the new faces. We have 1 Delaware, she is white with a bit of black and she seems the most standoffish, 2 buff orphingtons, they are both the largest and friendiest of the group, 1 rhode island red who is dark brownish red, 1 golden comet who is the smallest and 1 golden laced wyondotte who is brown with black markings and green tips on her wings...she's the prettiest and my favorite.
And on Monday afternoon we had our first egg.
And on Tuesday we had four.
We had a bit of a scare and calamity of errors on Monday afternoon, but all turned out okay. I had spent the morning entertaining visitors. Christian came with Roger and I immediately put him in the house so Christian could see the hens. I had to spend much of the afternoon with the tech guys on some issues with my bed and breakfast software. Rob had some banking he wanted me to do and I noticied it was getting near to closing time so I rushed back home and got my things together to go out, got Roger and put him in the car and off we went. After some additional errands in the next village we headed home and I realized that Roger had not been out for a walk for most of the day so I knew he was anxious to go out. We got home and I just opened the door for Roger to leave without thinking and off he raced to the chicken coop. I jumped out of the car to chase after him not realizing that I had not put the truck in park, and I could not get back fast enough to stop the slow steady movement right into the support columns of the open porch next to the garage. By that time, my friend Dave, who had been working on the house next to Litengard ran over to tell me that the chickens were out, having jumped the 5 foot fence and were in the neighbors bushes. Then he saw the truck and the semi collapsed roof of the porch.
"Are you okay"? Yes, I was fine but, oh no, my first day on the chicken job after getting special permission from the village and they are already out and about the neighborhood!
It turned out that it was just one, my favorite, the golden laced wyondotte. We secured Roger in the house and went hunting for the loose chicken. We went around the neighbors house several times until he came out and asked what we were doing. "Looking for a chicken" we said. "A chicken?" "Yes" was our only reply as we continued to look everywhere. And then I spotted her, crouched under a bush, almost invisible.
Dave who had chickens when he was growing up said he would get her and he lunged for her and she squirted right out of his hands.
And there we were, the two of us adults, chasing this poor little chicken all around main street, desperately trying to keep her out of the traffic. We finally got her headed back onto our property and towards the barn. Once she got in the barn, Dave ran around to the back and opened the coop door and in she went.
Whew! Safe and sound and no fatalities. The books make it sound so easy.
Dave came back to the house and went to work on getting boards secured under the roof to brace it up until we could get the jacks out and the posts back up. Two came down in tact but one, not so much. I was so glad that Dave was there and knew what to do. He's worked so much around our house that he just got the equipment and went to work, however we could not find the big silver jack that could have solved the problem then and there.
However, now that the posts are down....perhaps I'll do something else with that space. Is that called making lemonade out of lemons?
But today was uneventful!
They came at dusk, around 8:00pm, on Sunday.
Rob and I had worked the weekend on getting the coop ready, the nesting boxes modified and attached to the wall, the bedding spread, the roosting bars made and secured, the waterer and feeder in place and filled, and we built an outside pen so they could roam and scratch a bit.
After we got them settled in their new home, Rob had to go to the office to do some work. When he came home aroung 10:30pm, he said the girls were all roosting and everything seemed calm. How cute! He had gone in with a flashlight to check and see if they were doing okay before he came home.
And on Monday morning they had their first visitors. They seemed very happy with their new diggs and were very friendly and inquisitive with all the new faces. We have 1 Delaware, she is white with a bit of black and she seems the most standoffish, 2 buff orphingtons, they are both the largest and friendiest of the group, 1 rhode island red who is dark brownish red, 1 golden comet who is the smallest and 1 golden laced wyondotte who is brown with black markings and green tips on her wings...she's the prettiest and my favorite.
And on Monday afternoon we had our first egg.
And on Tuesday we had four.
We had a bit of a scare and calamity of errors on Monday afternoon, but all turned out okay. I had spent the morning entertaining visitors. Christian came with Roger and I immediately put him in the house so Christian could see the hens. I had to spend much of the afternoon with the tech guys on some issues with my bed and breakfast software. Rob had some banking he wanted me to do and I noticied it was getting near to closing time so I rushed back home and got my things together to go out, got Roger and put him in the car and off we went. After some additional errands in the next village we headed home and I realized that Roger had not been out for a walk for most of the day so I knew he was anxious to go out. We got home and I just opened the door for Roger to leave without thinking and off he raced to the chicken coop. I jumped out of the car to chase after him not realizing that I had not put the truck in park, and I could not get back fast enough to stop the slow steady movement right into the support columns of the open porch next to the garage. By that time, my friend Dave, who had been working on the house next to Litengard ran over to tell me that the chickens were out, having jumped the 5 foot fence and were in the neighbors bushes. Then he saw the truck and the semi collapsed roof of the porch.
"Are you okay"? Yes, I was fine but, oh no, my first day on the chicken job after getting special permission from the village and they are already out and about the neighborhood!
It turned out that it was just one, my favorite, the golden laced wyondotte. We secured Roger in the house and went hunting for the loose chicken. We went around the neighbors house several times until he came out and asked what we were doing. "Looking for a chicken" we said. "A chicken?" "Yes" was our only reply as we continued to look everywhere. And then I spotted her, crouched under a bush, almost invisible.
Dave who had chickens when he was growing up said he would get her and he lunged for her and she squirted right out of his hands.
And there we were, the two of us adults, chasing this poor little chicken all around main street, desperately trying to keep her out of the traffic. We finally got her headed back onto our property and towards the barn. Once she got in the barn, Dave ran around to the back and opened the coop door and in she went.
Whew! Safe and sound and no fatalities. The books make it sound so easy.
Dave came back to the house and went to work on getting boards secured under the roof to brace it up until we could get the jacks out and the posts back up. Two came down in tact but one, not so much. I was so glad that Dave was there and knew what to do. He's worked so much around our house that he just got the equipment and went to work, however we could not find the big silver jack that could have solved the problem then and there.
However, now that the posts are down....perhaps I'll do something else with that space. Is that called making lemonade out of lemons?
But today was uneventful!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Ends of the Spectrum
Yesterday I worked for hours, side by side a seven year old boy.
Friends of ours who have a farm and greenhouse, had received 1100 flower plugs and they all needed to be transplanted into six packs. It was fun to get back into the dirt this early in the season. The heaters and fans were on and it was nice and toasty in the greenhouse.
My seven year old friend had been working before I arrived. This was his family's business. He did one job and I did another. And sometimes we switched jobs.
He was cheerful and worked steadily. He never complained or wanted to take a break. He occasionally ate a cracker and offered some to me. His dad came and offered some suggestions and corrections to him and he accepted them cheerfully. As I asked him various things about the farm he regaled me with funny stories. He told me things about some plants that I was surprised a seven year old knew about. And he was plenty knowledgeable about the different animals on the farm. His mom needed him at the house for a couple of hours and so he disappeared only to re emerge back at the greenhouse to continue his job.
I had to leave shortly after he returned but I asked him if he could show me the new piglets in the barn. He took me all around the barn and introduced me to the various animals, pigs of all ages, three young cows, hens and a rooster which he bravely shooed away. Then he picked up a pail and said he had to water the chickens, his main responsibility. So he lugged a pail one third filled with water up a hill to the chicken house. Upon seeing all the chickens in a large fenced in area I asked him how many laying chickens were at the farm. "Oh, about a hundred." Like that was nothing at all. Seemed like a lot to me.
He then hopped up into the chicken house, replenished the water and started to collect the eggs. That was his job, part of his chores on this family farm.
Needless to say I was impressed with this seven year old. He had poise, a great personality, a cheerful disposition, a great work ethic and a love for the rest of his family, younger and older. I was smitten. I don't think I know another seven year old like him.
That evening, Rob and I went to a concert at Hosmer Hall. The legendary jazz guitarist was performing and Rob had been given tickets as a Christmas present. Bucky Pizzarelli is 85 years old and he was amazing. He has played in bands with Benny Goodman and Frank Sinatra. He as done concerts at the White House and Carnegie Hall. He has toured the world with Benny Goodman, Zoot Sims, Benny Carter, Barney Kessel and Charlie Byrd. In 2005 he was elected to the Jazz Hall of Fame. We both said my dad, who was a jazz pianist himself, would have loved the concert.
So my day went from the very young to the very old. And they were both amazing. I guess it goes to show you that age doesn't matter. We can be productive when we are young and we still can be creative, inspiring and entertaining when we are old. Two ends of the spectrum.......with a great many years in between.
Friends of ours who have a farm and greenhouse, had received 1100 flower plugs and they all needed to be transplanted into six packs. It was fun to get back into the dirt this early in the season. The heaters and fans were on and it was nice and toasty in the greenhouse.
My seven year old friend had been working before I arrived. This was his family's business. He did one job and I did another. And sometimes we switched jobs.
He was cheerful and worked steadily. He never complained or wanted to take a break. He occasionally ate a cracker and offered some to me. His dad came and offered some suggestions and corrections to him and he accepted them cheerfully. As I asked him various things about the farm he regaled me with funny stories. He told me things about some plants that I was surprised a seven year old knew about. And he was plenty knowledgeable about the different animals on the farm. His mom needed him at the house for a couple of hours and so he disappeared only to re emerge back at the greenhouse to continue his job.
I had to leave shortly after he returned but I asked him if he could show me the new piglets in the barn. He took me all around the barn and introduced me to the various animals, pigs of all ages, three young cows, hens and a rooster which he bravely shooed away. Then he picked up a pail and said he had to water the chickens, his main responsibility. So he lugged a pail one third filled with water up a hill to the chicken house. Upon seeing all the chickens in a large fenced in area I asked him how many laying chickens were at the farm. "Oh, about a hundred." Like that was nothing at all. Seemed like a lot to me.
He then hopped up into the chicken house, replenished the water and started to collect the eggs. That was his job, part of his chores on this family farm.
Needless to say I was impressed with this seven year old. He had poise, a great personality, a cheerful disposition, a great work ethic and a love for the rest of his family, younger and older. I was smitten. I don't think I know another seven year old like him.
That evening, Rob and I went to a concert at Hosmer Hall. The legendary jazz guitarist was performing and Rob had been given tickets as a Christmas present. Bucky Pizzarelli is 85 years old and he was amazing. He has played in bands with Benny Goodman and Frank Sinatra. He as done concerts at the White House and Carnegie Hall. He has toured the world with Benny Goodman, Zoot Sims, Benny Carter, Barney Kessel and Charlie Byrd. In 2005 he was elected to the Jazz Hall of Fame. We both said my dad, who was a jazz pianist himself, would have loved the concert.
So my day went from the very young to the very old. And they were both amazing. I guess it goes to show you that age doesn't matter. We can be productive when we are young and we still can be creative, inspiring and entertaining when we are old. Two ends of the spectrum.......with a great many years in between.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
It's a Miracle!
It's a miracle!!!
Except it happens every year, just when you least expect it!
Just when you think that you can't stand one more freezing cold, dreary day. Just when you think that you can not stand more drop of snow, scrapping the car windows, shoveling one more shovel full of snow, one more day of layering, bundling up and putting on ugly winter boots and hats which scrunch the hairdo, scarfs and gloves . Just when you decide that bears have it right and it is smart to hibernate the whole winter.
Just then, out of nowhere, there is a sunny bright day; almost 60 degrees. And they appear.
After months of rock solid frozen ground, their vast energy has pushed up themselves up to over three inches and they won't be stopped. Everything wasn't dead, just storing up energy to surprise us when we need it the most.
Nothing yesterday. But today I'm seeing signs everywhere. The crocus are up, the snowdrops are ready to flower, the daffodils are sprouting fine strong leaves, the hyacinths are peeking up through cold hard brown dirt. And everything is changing.
It was always still there. Just hiding for a while.
We've turned the corner I think. And the best is yet to come. We see the promise
Except it happens every year, just when you least expect it!
Just when you think that you can't stand one more freezing cold, dreary day. Just when you think that you can not stand more drop of snow, scrapping the car windows, shoveling one more shovel full of snow, one more day of layering, bundling up and putting on ugly winter boots and hats which scrunch the hairdo, scarfs and gloves . Just when you decide that bears have it right and it is smart to hibernate the whole winter.
Just then, out of nowhere, there is a sunny bright day; almost 60 degrees. And they appear.
After months of rock solid frozen ground, their vast energy has pushed up themselves up to over three inches and they won't be stopped. Everything wasn't dead, just storing up energy to surprise us when we need it the most.
Nothing yesterday. But today I'm seeing signs everywhere. The crocus are up, the snowdrops are ready to flower, the daffodils are sprouting fine strong leaves, the hyacinths are peeking up through cold hard brown dirt. And everything is changing.
It was always still there. Just hiding for a while.
We've turned the corner I think. And the best is yet to come. We see the promise
Monday, February 28, 2011
Precious in His Sight......
A friend of mine died on Friday night, around 10:30pm.
We had actually thought we might go to visit her at her daughter's house in Bennington, Vermont on Saturday. Rob called Joan's daughter to see if that would work for them but was told that Joan would probably not last the night. So she put us on speaker phone and we both spoke with Joan. Her daughter told us that her eyes lite up when she heard our voices and we could hear her trying to make some sounds but she had not been able to communicate for a few days. She died an hour later.
Joan and her husband, Dave, were actually first friends of my folks. They were of similar age and had come to know the Lord around the time that my folks were saved. Joan became a great prayer partner of my mom's for years. They would meet together at Peck Road once a week to pray for the church and their families.
But I have found, in the Lord, people are not just friends with their peers but become friends with people of all ages. Joan was in the choir when Rob and I sang in the choir so we were at many events together. My Dad always had an annual choir party at the end of the summer, food, croquet and badmitton and wonderful fellowship were all part of the event. Joan was a faithful devotee (as I was) of my other friend, Fran, and her ministry "Women of the Bible", a monthly look at different women in scripture. When my folks moved to Hilton Head, several other people from the church began making that island their new home too. Joan and Dave set up their homestead in a wonderful condominium in the same community that Aunt Millie lived. So we saw them often and maintained a warm relationship.
Our former "youth" pastor wrote this about Joan:
"Some people just always seem to have half their attention in the heavenlies even while on earth........Heaven is richer and rejoicing having received a wonderful worshipper".
It will seem strange when I visit Hilton Head not to see Joan. Dave will be back to reestablish the ministry that they had on the island. Even in their eighty's they were still "serving" the Lord faithfully. All her firends will miss her but we know...........that someday we will all be changed.
And reunited.
We had actually thought we might go to visit her at her daughter's house in Bennington, Vermont on Saturday. Rob called Joan's daughter to see if that would work for them but was told that Joan would probably not last the night. So she put us on speaker phone and we both spoke with Joan. Her daughter told us that her eyes lite up when she heard our voices and we could hear her trying to make some sounds but she had not been able to communicate for a few days. She died an hour later.
Joan and her husband, Dave, were actually first friends of my folks. They were of similar age and had come to know the Lord around the time that my folks were saved. Joan became a great prayer partner of my mom's for years. They would meet together at Peck Road once a week to pray for the church and their families.
But I have found, in the Lord, people are not just friends with their peers but become friends with people of all ages. Joan was in the choir when Rob and I sang in the choir so we were at many events together. My Dad always had an annual choir party at the end of the summer, food, croquet and badmitton and wonderful fellowship were all part of the event. Joan was a faithful devotee (as I was) of my other friend, Fran, and her ministry "Women of the Bible", a monthly look at different women in scripture. When my folks moved to Hilton Head, several other people from the church began making that island their new home too. Joan and Dave set up their homestead in a wonderful condominium in the same community that Aunt Millie lived. So we saw them often and maintained a warm relationship.
Our former "youth" pastor wrote this about Joan:
"Some people just always seem to have half their attention in the heavenlies even while on earth........Heaven is richer and rejoicing having received a wonderful worshipper".
It will seem strange when I visit Hilton Head not to see Joan. Dave will be back to reestablish the ministry that they had on the island. Even in their eighty's they were still "serving" the Lord faithfully. All her firends will miss her but we know...........that someday we will all be changed.
And reunited.
Monday, February 14, 2011
February
"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul- and sings the tunes without words and never stops at all." Emily Dickinson
February inspires one to poetry, with Valentines Day right in the middle of the month.
And in February we need hope.
Hope that February will release it's grip on us and propel us forward into a more hospitable environ. One with sunshine, softness, and gentleness of spirit. One without layers and boots, scarfs and frozen fingers and noses. One with pointy shovels and not straight edged shovels. And one with green tender shoots, brown dirt and colors other than white and grey.
February is half over. And we are determined to make it through.
Thank goodness. We have had enough snow and extremely cold weather.
But I've been thinking about my last couple of February's. They have been eventful.
Two years ago, (almost hard to believe it's been that long ago) Elizabeth and I were treking down to Manhattan at the beginning of February for the making of my mask and my simulation. Yes, I was a bit like Hannibal Leckter for a couple of months there. A mask conformed to my face was made and on a daily basis I would be bolted down to the table, so as not to move a muscle, and receive the 5 shots of radiation to the affected areas. I spent February and March living in Hope Lodge and making daily subway runs to Memorial Sloan Kettering. We developed a family on the ninth floor at the Lodge and sadly I'm the only one left from my months there. After my last treatment they asked me if I wanted the mask to take home. I thought that would be a bit goulish but Ethan was disappointed in not being able to see it.
Last February we were visiting 44 East Main almost everyday, thinking, planning, praying, investigating possibilities of making it into a bed and breakfast. February saw us put a purchase offer in and buy the property with an ambitious goal of opening in July. For the next few months, while our wonderful contractor demolished, gutted, and then reinventing, Elizabeth and I were frequenting bathroom showrooms, ordering fixtures, tile, vanities etc, picking out paint colors, looking at fabric swatches for reupholstering common room furniture, going to auctions, antique barns and flea markets, painting furniture, developing websites and business cards and business plans. Last February passed by without us noticing.
Rob's dad was born in February and he would have been 98 this year. We miss him here. He was strong and tenacious and full of the Word of God.
This past weekend we celebrated Valentines Day at the Inn a few days before the 14th. We had red roses, red cloth napkins with hearts, poetry books about in case someone wanted to recite some verse, heart cookies in the afternoon and plenty of chocolates in each room. While it was freezing outside it was warm, loving and tender in.
This February has been a month of music. Rob and I went to an Emanuel Ax concert were he performed an all Schubert concert. He was amazing. And another afternoon we heard baroque music, Handel's Water Music performed by the Orchestra of Northen New York, harpsichord and all. It was beautiful.
This week I am trying out two new french toast recipes. Since my "boys" are not here to be the official guinea pigs, I have asked two of my friends to come for brunch and be food critics. I'll let you know how the adventure turns out.
On the 22 of this month I will find out if the village will approve my request to have a small flock of hens in the barn at the Inn. It has the original chicken coop with the original nesting boxes. We'll see, but I think it would be fun to have eggs fresh from the barn each morning.
And we shall see what next February has in store for us.
The possibilities are endless........
February inspires one to poetry, with Valentines Day right in the middle of the month.
And in February we need hope.
Hope that February will release it's grip on us and propel us forward into a more hospitable environ. One with sunshine, softness, and gentleness of spirit. One without layers and boots, scarfs and frozen fingers and noses. One with pointy shovels and not straight edged shovels. And one with green tender shoots, brown dirt and colors other than white and grey.
February is half over. And we are determined to make it through.
Thank goodness. We have had enough snow and extremely cold weather.
But I've been thinking about my last couple of February's. They have been eventful.
Two years ago, (almost hard to believe it's been that long ago) Elizabeth and I were treking down to Manhattan at the beginning of February for the making of my mask and my simulation. Yes, I was a bit like Hannibal Leckter for a couple of months there. A mask conformed to my face was made and on a daily basis I would be bolted down to the table, so as not to move a muscle, and receive the 5 shots of radiation to the affected areas. I spent February and March living in Hope Lodge and making daily subway runs to Memorial Sloan Kettering. We developed a family on the ninth floor at the Lodge and sadly I'm the only one left from my months there. After my last treatment they asked me if I wanted the mask to take home. I thought that would be a bit goulish but Ethan was disappointed in not being able to see it.
Last February we were visiting 44 East Main almost everyday, thinking, planning, praying, investigating possibilities of making it into a bed and breakfast. February saw us put a purchase offer in and buy the property with an ambitious goal of opening in July. For the next few months, while our wonderful contractor demolished, gutted, and then reinventing, Elizabeth and I were frequenting bathroom showrooms, ordering fixtures, tile, vanities etc, picking out paint colors, looking at fabric swatches for reupholstering common room furniture, going to auctions, antique barns and flea markets, painting furniture, developing websites and business cards and business plans. Last February passed by without us noticing.
Rob's dad was born in February and he would have been 98 this year. We miss him here. He was strong and tenacious and full of the Word of God.
This past weekend we celebrated Valentines Day at the Inn a few days before the 14th. We had red roses, red cloth napkins with hearts, poetry books about in case someone wanted to recite some verse, heart cookies in the afternoon and plenty of chocolates in each room. While it was freezing outside it was warm, loving and tender in.
This February has been a month of music. Rob and I went to an Emanuel Ax concert were he performed an all Schubert concert. He was amazing. And another afternoon we heard baroque music, Handel's Water Music performed by the Orchestra of Northen New York, harpsichord and all. It was beautiful.
This week I am trying out two new french toast recipes. Since my "boys" are not here to be the official guinea pigs, I have asked two of my friends to come for brunch and be food critics. I'll let you know how the adventure turns out.
On the 22 of this month I will find out if the village will approve my request to have a small flock of hens in the barn at the Inn. It has the original chicken coop with the original nesting boxes. We'll see, but I think it would be fun to have eggs fresh from the barn each morning.
And we shall see what next February has in store for us.
The possibilities are endless........
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