Scoop from the Coop

May 11, 2012

Market and Mother’s Day

Filed under: Uncategorized — Kit Cooley @ 10:35 pm

It has been a very busy week here at Raven Call Farm. The weather has been good for working in the garden, although the nights still get into the 20s and 30s. I have a table reserved at the Hope Faire Market tomorrow morning, and have been potting up berries and herb plants for sale. The car is packed with the bounty of my garden, and in the morning I will add the cooler with eggs and fresh mozzarella. If you are in the area tomorrow, stop by and shop! And if you haven’t got a card and good wishes for your mom on Mother’s Day, I’ll be your “Poet for Hire”–just look for the sign at the Faire Market.

We will also have a sale on the farm at the end of June, with more plants and crafts and more. Workshops are in the works, as well. Details will be posted here soon, but here is the list:

Ancestral Remembrance: An Introduction to Deep Genealogy, July 1, 2 p.m. to 4 p.m.

The Poet Naturalist: A Walk through Rhyme and Nature,  August 5, 10 a.m. to 12 noon

Basic Vegetable Gardening, September 9, 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. (Garden tour to follow.)

A Hen’s Herbal, October TBD

If you are interested in any of these, please let us know.

 

Love and blessings to all the mothers, especially my mom, Marie, and my mother-in-law, Dreva. Love you!

April 30, 2012

First hummingbird and planting seeds

Filed under: Uncategorized — Kit Cooley @ 5:22 pm

Joyful return!

Yesterday our first Rufous hummingbird returned. He looked in the window as I was talking to my mother on the phone as if to say, Here I am! Where’s the grub! It is time to get out the feeder, and fill it up for our friends.

It’s time to do more early planting here. Besides the greens coming to life in the cold frames, and the fava beans and peas planted out in the old goose pen, we need to get the root crops and more cool weather crops in now. A deluge of rain followed Brother Hummingbird’s arrival, but there is supposed to be a break in the weather by the end of the week. In the meantime, I got some tomatoes, peppers, onions, artichokes and cardoons seeded inside. I am short on time this year, and took some shortcuts:

1. Egg cartons, plus...

2. Bucket of compost (from my 2-year-old pile)...

 

Equals many seed trays in the window!

 

There are already some Cherokee Purple tomato seedlings popping up! I am going to do more direct seeding in the garden than I had planned this year, and hope for the best.

 

Today is the end of April and of Poetry Month. I have only written half as many poems as I had intended this time around. There have been too many other writing deadlines to meet for my clients, and lots of clean up around the homestead to do. (And garden prep! And new lambs!) I have plenty of lovely drafts of poems to work on, though, so I am not worried about having too few finished pieces for my chapbook. (How many of you have been keeping up with the Poem-a-Day Challenge? Please share!)

I must apologize to those who may be searching the Hen with Pen website for updated photos and workshop information for 2012. My computer crash early this year, and the ensuing upgrade, has made it impossible to work with my old website layout. I am in the process of reworking the whole site, so look for the new (and, I hope, improved!) Hen with Pen to launch sometime next week. If you are interested in what classes we are offering this year, and can’t wait for the new page, let me know where to reach you, and I can email the list to you.

Tomorrow is May Day! The blessings of Beltane on each of you. Sunshine, sweet rain, sprouting seeds, and a happy heart!

 

April 24, 2012

Remembering: the most beautiful thing

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , — Kit Cooley @ 7:45 am

The wonderful folks at Writing Our Way Home have invited bloggers to share their own “most beautiful thing” today. (See them here.)

Although it is difficult to choose just one thing, for me the most beautiful thing is walking this path of remembrance; to find my way back to who I am. To recover the traditional ways of my ancestors, to walk in their footsteps, to feel the love and the light of those who have gone before. To restore my Indigenous Mind — that is the most beautiful thing. I am so grateful.

Keeping the fire of remembrance burning.

April 23, 2012

Blue Jay days

Filed under: Uncategorized — Kit Cooley @ 9:05 pm

Sassy Stellar Jay.

We have been having some beautiful weather: hot and sunny. The birds are busy and they are everywhere. Jays and woodpeckers, warblers and juncos, robins and nuthatches, flickers and ravens–everyone is arriving. The chickens are loving the warmth and foraging the good greens popping up. The lambs are growing up fast. (We are still waiting for Storm to have her lamb.) The cats are recharging their “solar batteries.” Hazel-dog is running through the woods, sniffing everything. (She really hates robins. Don’t know why; she just does.)

I am trying not to get too giddy about the weather, as snow is predicted by Friday. I did finally get our tomatoes, peppers and some onions planted indoors. I am starting these seeds later than usual. Last year we found that we didn’t benefit from starting earlier. Outdoors, on the lower 7 acres, the cold frame is providing us with some chard, sorrel and arugula (the arugula is already bolting!). Steve put in  a bunch of peas and fava beans where the old goose pen was. There are trillium and squilla are blooming in the woods, and today the first sweet violet opened up. My favorite! On Cross Mountain, there was still snow–about a foot, and more in some places–so we have at least two weeks before we can start planting cold weather seeds. Still, there is plenty to do.

Lambs in the manger.

April 10, 2012

One poem for yesterday, two for today

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: — Kit Cooley @ 6:07 pm

I am still catching up with work after being sick last week. At least I’m keeping up with my April Poem-a-Day challenge! I promise news of chickens and lambs and spring on the homestead soon. (Really!) Garden prep is getting under way.

 

Weather Report

Snow still lingers, deep
beneath the evergreens,
and in the cold hollows.

The shadow of the trees
hides more than the old
Hag of Winter, loathe to leave;
there are stirrings in the dirt,
and flashes of bird wings,
waiting and mating, as Bride’s
Spring light grows. The air
takes on that shimmer, there
is sweetness on the breeze.

Arms spread wide, we open
to the sun, like flowers,
unafraid to blossom, even when
the frost still brightens morning’s
edges. None can quite conceive
of a return to the cool dark
of the secluded shade.

Into the Woods

A forest holds all our stories,
where the wolf hides waiting
for innocence as she skips
red-clad to Grandma’s,
where the huntsman kills
not the girl, but the deer,
yet blood is spilled, still
a heart is taken.
What chance do we have
against tooth and claw?

There are others there,
the ones with gifts,
the sprites and spirits
who offer protection
and the magic words.
Listen.
Sassafras
(For my Grandpa Cooley, April 9, 1916-February 15, 1996)
Tall tree with grey-green bark,
and myriad leaves–one point, mitten,
trident–all together, waiting there.
Grandpa cuts the slender branch
from the sassafras; we watch the blade
of well sharpened penknife whittle
bite-size bits, given to us to chew,
the root beer sweetness savored,
while he rubs a velvet leaf in strong hands,
that cup so little faces can draw near
and sniff the fragrance of lemons,
such a wonder in the woods.

 

April 8, 2012

Poems 7 & 8

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , — Kit Cooley @ 3:58 pm

Plain to See
The grain is scattered
in the yard, and now
I squat and watch my chickens
scratch and peck, beneath the sun
on this crisp, cool autumn morning.
I am spending time to listen
and observe each bright eye
and fluff of feather. And now
my Goldie hen pulls on my shirt
with her insistent beak,
yet ducks away before my hand
can reach to stroke sleek
red-brown feathers. And now
Amelia, slower than she should,
walks quietly near, and leans
companionably against my side,
and that is when I know
it won’t be long.

 

Bummer

What makes a ewe
reject her lamb?
Why pick Pepper
and not Pam?
Pam, of the two,
was strongest when
Nugget birthed twins,
nursed both, and then
Pam was out,
sister Pepper was in.
Ma butted and kicked,
and shunned hungry Pam,
who bleating, grew cold–
Now she’s our bummer lamb.

April 6, 2012

Poem 6

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — Kit Cooley @ 9:16 pm

Sacred Eostre

In the grass, close to the warming earth,
a sphere appears, and another there,
a nest of speckled eggs, hidden,
tucked away and waiting,
to complete the circle, started
long ago, each shell conceals
a promise, and a light kindling,
ready to release life into the world.

 

The gift of fresh eggs.

April 5, 2012

April poem #5

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — Kit Cooley @ 4:27 pm

Last Story

Oh, you should have seen
the way it was here, before
the toxic sludge turned
the lake from blue to black,
before the air was poisoned,
back when there were birds
who sang.

You know, in those days,
we picked food from the trees
and shrubs, and there were roots
to dig from sweet soil, all
kinds of plants grew here,
on the good green earth.
Animals walked and crawled,
fish swam all around then,
and wings rode the wind.

Ah, but Grandma, those old stories,
that’s all before my time.

April 4, 2012

April poems, day 3 and 4

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — Kit Cooley @ 4:00 pm

Happy birthday to my brother, Albert! (And to Tap, Beak, and Star, our hens who are all one year old today.)

I got a bit behind with posting poems (bottle lamb, dying hen–RIP Tessa, and loads of other work), but here are two for Tuesday, and one for today:

 

The Lack of One

Taken one by one
these little motions
mean much less–
a photo taken,
a story told,
a look, a touch–
but all together,
wrapped in red thread
and a mourning song,
these are a monument
to sorrow,
and the empty place
that remains when
there is nothing more to say.

 

Unrepentant

What justice is there
when only you have a say?
Devoid of color, class
and sex, sanitized,
a society with no other
way of thought,
no other altars
allowed into this farce
of freedom.

We will have the real thing,
thank you,
and although far left
of center is not always
a safe place, it is
where I travel,
unrepentant.

 

100 % Chance of Snow

Officially it’s spring,
but who could tell,
the forecast is not fair,
though yesterday sun shone,
and green sprouted in the mud,
lambs lazed in warmth,
and chickens scratched the earth,
today, a different tale,
and huddled in the house, and coop,
and shed, cold wind and wet
white flakes mock us,
and our fond hope
that winter’s done.

Steve feeding Pam, with "Uncle" Salute.

Now we are 12 in the coop

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , — Kit Cooley @ 10:08 am

Tessa's last day.

We had to bury Tessa, our last Americauna hen, this morning. Her illness–a similar mystery ailment as the one that took Goldie last year–was too much for her organs, and they shut down. We are thankful for all the eggs, and a good hen’s life. I am sad that I could not help her more. We buried her under the cedar tree, near Little Comb and Big Red on the lower property (too much snow up above at Cross Mountain). She was able to enjoy some sunny weather yesterday and some green spring seedlings; today we have a wet snow falling. Blessed be, Tessa-hen, and fly away home.

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