plume gables — Page 8

The Packages Said They Would Be Black

June 2, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

I find, on certain occasions, that if I dress a particular way, I’ll feel my moods affected by my ensemble. Today I dressed like a rainbow and went a little heavy on the teal. The results were splendiferous. I felt whipped up and out of my melancholy and flung into the great wide blue.

I also wore my favorite grey booties while taking a garden tour.

My grey booties always help.

They’re like CRM’s muffins.

The great thing about being out and about in the gloriousness of cultivation is that things seem to come into focus, or slide out of focus, or what have you. In the case of today, a little bit of both happened. I managed to grasp the evenness of clarity in the realm of certain perspectives and I let a few things slip away into the ether.

My grapevines are about to burst.

Other things are bursting:

Like the tip of my favorite inky black pen.

The fruit bowl on my kitchen table.

And the tulip patches.

The packages said they would be black.

In all reality, they’re a moody sort of gloriously pompous purple.

The formality of these blossoms is mildly irksome, slightly intimidating and awfully get-out-the-china!

The Queen is coming for tea!

This said, I don’t mind the false advertising. Not in the least. I’m quite pleased with this tulip patch.

I’ve cut a few for vases around the house

just to give the iris blooms I harvested yesterday a bit of competition.

Filed Under: garden, plume gables, tulips

Back At The Gables

June 1, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

It’s true.

I’m home.

It was a long hard pull, the solo drive home from Robert’s arms to this tangled little home of grapevines and poultry. But I made it and this morning Idaho is draped in springtime rain and the purple breath of blooming iris out in the yard.

As always, upon returning home after one of these solo ventures, I don’t know where to begin with life again. I’ve realized that it starts with the smallest details. I cut some iris for vases around the house. I’ve cleaned my fridge and vacuumed half the house. My first load of laundry is on spin cycle. This afternoon I need to build an Ikea table, purchase tension rods for a new set of curtains as well as a flat of raspberries for some canning plans I have. I also have about 25 Meyer lemons I need to process in some way (I don’t know what I was thinking when I picked them at the Minor household of Oakland, as if I needed one more project to deal with upon my return home). Jillian. Take that back. Those lemons and their destiny will be a pleasure. Take it slow, darling, take it slow.

My travels took me:

across Nevada

to the wonderful home of my other parents in Grass Valley

to Allison’s home in San Jose

to the home of Carrie and Dylan in the Oakland hills

to Petaluma

to beach camping in Mendocino County

to the home of Kelly and Brad in Arcata

across Oregon (stuffed full of those wild eyed lumberjacks)

to the home of Candace and Joel

across Washington to the Winthrop smokejumper base and RW’s tired mind and body

(His fatigue taxes me and talking to him is an emotional roller coaster.

He is being pushed so hard, to the brink of his abilities, and I’m right there along for the ride.)

I tore myself away from Winthrop (oh the pain of that) and made my way hastily across Washington and Montana

to find myself tumbling over the Idaho state line yesterday morning.

I felt the fullness of her space wrap around me twice and the rest of the road home felt like flying. I arrived at The Gables to knee deep grass, a dead garden and a thirsty cat. The ladies say bruck-bruck-hello. Judith is still my feathered darling, Rhonda is still a lazy lady and Winona is as wild as ever.

I’m glad to be here but already find myself missing the road and the Kerouac-ian moments and constant discovery there.

The floor of my home is strewn with treasures, socks and fishing gear. I’ve been moving my office into the spare room and the spare room into my old office space. Farley is sleeping on a pile of laundry. Penelope was just scolded for eating Farley’s food and has exiled herself to the dog bed in the bedroom. I should call her to me and snuggle her and make sure her feelings are mended.

Now I’m rambling but I’m so terribly overwhelmed by all that needs to be done today. I keep telling myself to slow down and take all the time I need. I’ll try my hardest but it’s always a battle to not get carried away and eventually paralyzed by the weight of tasks, duties and the business side of life.

And then there are the weeds choking out the flowers out in the garden spaces.

One thing at a time, cowgirl. One thing at a time.

It’s good to be home.

I plan to be in my studio by Friday.

And if I don’t find myself there at that time, I suppose it will mean I needed some more time to get settled in.

I missed you. It’s only when I’m away that I fully realize the importance of this space and the capturing of my life moments. I write, photograph and create for me, but sharing it all with you is the delight of my heart.

Onward.

Always onward.

Let’s hit the ground gently and fall into a smooth stride once more.

Love,

The Noisy Plume

PS Thanks for your lovely notes on my photo posts while I was away. It was so nice to carry you with me.

Filed Under: chickens, plume gables, traveling

Happiness is a Warm Chicken

May 14, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

Oh what a week.

Oh what a week I’ve had.

It started with the death of Vesper and it’s ending with some holiday time for a tired bird!

Before I zip off into the great blue yonder, I want to introduce you to the new ladies and let you see how Judith has grown!

All the girls are spending the day and night out in the chicken ark and they seem to love it! We’ve been letting them free range in the yard as well when we have a moment to supervise.

After the tragic passing of Vesper, Judith seemed very distressed and we knew she needed to have some poultry friends again so we zipped off to Idaho Falls and claimed two new ladies from the flock of the poultry professor of Idaho State University (he really knows his chickens).

We were planning on securing one friend for Judith but I couldn’t resist one more sweet little hen and we came home to The Gables with two new ladies:

Winona the White and Rhonda the Red.

Rhonda is an exotic lady (literally) and will lay me pointed eggs. She’s quite a debutante and in a fabulously lazy fashion, she’ll spend all day in bed sipping champagne and eating small scones.

Winona is actually an ameracauna! This is the same breed that Vesper was! She’ll lay me blue, green or pink eggs and is one truly wild little girl. She has a strong personality and is fiercely independent which makes her the leader of the flock. She’s quite striking.

Rhonda and Winona are six weeks older than Judith and so little blondie chickie baby looks like the runt of the flock — she’s still so sweet and soft and friendly. Judith is my chickeny delight.

And I promised you images of the chicken ark! So here they are! RW designed our ark himself and I think it’s a pretty spectacular chicken abode. As you can see, in this photo, both ends of the ark flip down so we can herd the ladies into the sheltered nesting box or into the open space after they’ve been out strolling or playing croquet in the grass. The long wooden bars on the side of the ark allow us to pick the entire thing up and move it to various locations in the yard which guarantees that the girls will always have fresh grass to nibble on and their….byproduct….will fertilize whatever yard space we set the coop down on.

The sheltered nesting box also features a small air vent so that on warmer days the girls will experience a nice breeze coming in and out of their indoor space.

Winona really delights in perching on that upper roosting bar. Most of the time, if the girls are inside, they’re all lined up on this roost. Comfy. The entry door to the roosting and nesting area features a sliding door so I can lock the ladies in or out or I can leave it open and let them come and go freely.

There are a couple of perches in the open coop area for the girls too, in case they want to get their toes out of the grass and take a peek at the mountain view (which is somewhat visible, in this photo).

They’re right at home in the ark and RW did such a lovely job of designing and building it!

In other news, a mourning dove has decided to build a nest in a nearby tree. She perches on our grapevines in the sun when the morning light is softest and strongest. I think she was sent to me, in this time. For this time. I watch her from breadth of our kitchen window while I take my coffee or tea and feel very peaceful. Indeed.

Last night, I decided to start reading the most beautiful and disturbing book I have ever read in my life. I finished it in a couple of hours and then fell asleep. When I woke up, the morning seemed brilliant and the fresh paint on the walls of the bedroom seemed to capture the pale reflection of a handful of colors. I thought that perhaps the unsettled feelings I’ve been holding in my heart, this week, had seeped up and out of my bones and were drifting about there, against the texture of the ceiling, like a fine mist. I opened the windows to let in the day, the mountain wind, the scent of the plum blossoms and something reached into my home, gathered that mist up in a pair of able hands and ushered it out of my life.

Friday puts anchor down in this peaceful harbor.

Take a row boat to shore and stroll into town on those sea legs.

We all deserve rest and comfort.

The Noisy Plume

PS Thank you so much for your lovely comments on the post from yesterday. You’re the brightest beams.

Filed Under: chickens, plume gables

My Chickens Are Butterballs

May 5, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

You won’t believe how the girls have grown!

I had them roaming free in the garden this afternoon whilst I planted a few rows of veggies. Oh how they love to scratch about in the dirt. They haven’t lost their chickie voices yet and still make sweet peeping noises and sing song chirps when they speak with each other. They seem to be learning how to fly with their new adolescent feathers since while crouched on the ground and holding Vesper, Judith managed to leap up, flap her wings and perch on my arm.

They still love to be side by side, all the time. I don’t think this urge to flock is going to reverse itself anytime soon. The girls are the best of friends. The dogs still behave in a curious manner when face to face with the chickens, but within a few minutes they lose interest and move on to their dogly duties around the yard i.e. mauling the cat and begging for treats from the mailman.

Vesper has such interesting plumage. We think she looks quite like a pheasant chick or a bobwhite quail chick (we used to raise both when living in Arizona). She’s such a wild little thing.

And true to her breed, Judith is a bit of a butterball. She’s supposed to get so plump, her feet won’t ever really leave the ground.

We’ve been having terribly chilly, snowy, sleety springtime weather here but hopefully the temperatures will jump soon and then the girls will spend their first night out in the chicken ark which I have yet to photograph for you! Next week, you can count on some snaps of the chicken chateau!

It’s been a lovely day off here, for me! RW has been strolling about in a svelte set of overhauls while painting our bedroom! That’s right. The mustard yellow sponge paint job of yesteryear has been destroyed, or at least enveloped in a fresh blanket of tranquility.

A fine, fine Wednesday.

Indeed.