The Farm is really greening up. Plants are breaking into buds and flowers, under our ever watchful eye. Buffalo Gal, a rose we brought with us from North Dakota, is covered with buds and today she presented us with her 1st flower.
Irises began blooming yesterday. And we were not surprised that the 1st to flower were Irises from Melanie's 2 Grandmas (Ethel and Dorothy, who have both passed). I noted that the Yellow Columbine is also breaking into flower. And the Bleeding Heart just continues to throw out cascades of flowers.
We got 1 inch of rain last night. We did lose a few limbs, but otherwise, the countryside is in that luscious, after rain, spring-moving-into summer, green.
I do remember that my Dad, when he came to our Farm in 2007 just 2 months before he passed, said: "This is paradise. When I go to Heaven, I want to come here." It surely is beautiful here. The landscapes are radiant.
And the Hummingbirds, with all their energy, have just arrived. They buzz about. I don't know how they have all that energy. They wintered in the Yucatan, crossed the Gulf on those tiny wings, and now are setting up home here. I supposed you could say, they are setting up home just like us.
All this makes a perfect backdrop for wedding preparations and for the wedding itself. Is this for real?
About this Blog
Melanie, Glinda, and Richard Crawford share reflections on our journeys to walk paths where the future matters from our new home on Butterfly Hill Farm. That includes recognizing the sacredness of life, living sustainably and simply, reclaiming family history and traditions, growing our own food. We humbly offer this as our story seeking meaning and not as a cookie cutter for others lives. We invite the sharing of your journeys as well.
Except in very specific circumstances, all photos depicted here were taken on our Farm. Those circumstances off the Farm relate to the purposes of this Farm and this writing exploration. Almost all were taken by 1 of the 3 C's. If not, I try to make sure others are credited. I (Glinda) am usually the one carrying the camera, but not always.
I do my best to gain permissions of Folks whose pictures are shown on this Blog. If for any reason, you are pictured and would like your photo removed, just let me know. Thanks.
Visits to this Blog
...began her professional career as a Home Economist, later serving as a Home Economics Teacher Educator for 2 decades. In 1995, she moved into analyzing the Human Side of Environmental Issues. She went from studying Humans in their Little Homes to studying Humans in their Big Home, the Earth. Those 2 leggeds were, after all, creating a substantial problem for the Earth, which sustains them. After 30 years in higher education, she became Professor Emerita of Sociology and Interdisciplinary Ecological Studies at the University of North Dakota in 2005.
Glinda has a special interest in analyzing the split Humans have with Nature. Her focus is bringing Humans home to the Earth, opening at long last to the awe, magic, and love of this beautiful Earth whirling in the Great Cosmic Sea. She is a writer, teacher, poet, artist. She is the writer for this Blog, the substance of which will likely become a book she has known she would write.
...grew up on a 120 acre Farm about 5 miles west of here. Those humble beginnings have had a profound effect on his Life. He was trained as a Wildlife Biologist and later responsible for the Wildlife Management Program at the University of North Dakota for over 3 decades. Retiring in 2007, he is a UND Chester Fritz Distinguished Professor Emeritus of Biology.
Richard brings to the Farm a lifelong interest in the Natural Sciences (Birds, Wildlife, Prairie Restoration, Ecosystems, Gardening) and the Humanities. As his wife (Glinda) says: "He is one of those few people in our Culture who can still read Nature's story and make it accessible to those around him."
...would list a bio a little shorter than her Mom and Dad. That's because she hasn't lived quite so long, which is the normal course of such things. But her bio would be no less interesting and perhaps even more so. She has come to this work and this walk far earlier than her Mom or Dad.
Melanie has an interest in healthy lifestyles. It's not something you read about; it's something you do. She brings her love of life, her travel near and far, her love of people known and unknown, her playful curiosity, and her knowing to Gardening, Raising Chickens, Herbal Healing, and the Culinary Arts. She makes a place for Kids of all Ages on this Little Farm.
This Blog includes my exploration (with others alongside) as we seek to gather Family Stories. I have long since known that I cannot completely know who I am or where I am until I reflect on where I came from and those who came before.
In May 2007, we 3 partners (Glinda, Richard, Melanie Crawford) moved to this little acreage in northeast Missouri. We believe life is a sacred gift and we intend to live that practice in this space. This is the story of our journey of exploration and discovery.
On Friday, Richard and I will mark our 45th wedding anniversary. It hardly seems possible.
We were 19 and 18 at the time and are now 64 and 63. We've been blessed with a lot
of growing and learning time together. How absolutely beautiful and
extraordinary is that?
On this day depicted above on December 30, 1966, we were headed off into an adventure that we somehow knew was right but could never ever really completely know what might unfold. We just trusted we would find our way. I suppose every day since has been the same. We usually have not gotten quite that dressed up for it.
These days, it is pretty easy for me to go "go slow mo" over the events in the days preceding our wedding. Our house on Ely Street was filled with all the loving appointments of a wedding and a new couple creating a household. Everything was ready and waiting.
At the time, Dad's Mother (my Grandma Dora Bloskovich) was not well. When we had just sat down to our Christmas Dinner, Dad got a call that she had passed in the apartment that she and Aunt Anna shared on West Jefferson. He immediately left.
Dad and his Sisters worked on plans for her service and burial. Her service was in Kirksville at the Mary Immaculate Church on I believe Tuesday, December 27. That was an odd experience because I had never been to a Catholic Service and knew little of my place, plus my Dad and his siblings had long since disconnected with the ways of the formal church. And to top that off, Grandma's passing was that of one of the family matriarch's in the Croatian community. Her passing removed a link to the Old Country, to language and custom of a rich and varied past.
Grandma was buried later that day in Des Moines which is about 150 miles away. The trip there with hearse and hearse driver, Grandma's casket, and her 3 adult children was in the middle of a knockout snowstorm. The travelers felt great tension (in addition to the usual issues of loss) and those awaiting the travelers on return were on pins and needles deeply concerned about their safety. That trip inspired many stories over the years.
Also during that week, my Dad and his 2 sisters were going through Grandma's personal effects, which were few. They headed straight for her steamer trunk which she had brought from Croatia in 1908. Even as children, they had been told in no uncertain terms to "stay away". I was there when they opened the trunk. The feeling in the little bedroom was a contrast of young children (now in adult bodies) told to "stay away from the hot stove" and opening a trunk filled with magic. The trunk included many treasures from the old Country which had not been suited for the harsh life of a immigrant family in a strange and often unaccepting land. I can only speculate that Grandma Dora had carefully tucked them and her dreams away. My Dad and his 2 sisters gave me Grandma's wedding ring as they felt it was most appropriate for a soon to be new bride. Quickly thereafter, they re-packed the trunk and Aunt Mary took it to Kansas City where it stayed until the mid 90s.
Our rehearsal dinner followed and then our wedding. The energy of all of that mixed together was hard to sort out. About 6 weeks after we married, Richard and I took Grandma Dora and Aunt Ann's apartment, including furniture and pots and pan. Dad and Mom had mostly put them together and they were tickled to give us a start. That same apartment in the Triangle Apartments building at 401 W. Jefferson had been home to Grandma Lottie and her 2 daughters (Mother and Aunt Ruthie) after Grandpa Fred died and before Daddy came home from "the War".
These are mostly "memories of that week or the weeks" following. It's funny how certain marker occasions bring a flood of memories of the details before and after. It seems like each step of the way is yet another brush stroke on the canvas.
And here, after 45 years, we have embarked on another adventure of "opening a new day". I have developed this ritual that when Richard and I awake at the same time in the morning, I'll say to Richard: "We get another day." How cool is that? Once again, brush strokes emerge on that precious larger canvas.