The Reindeer Keeper

  I cut down the size of the garden this year by only planting basics. I'm trying hard to keep up with the weeds as well as the watering. Thanks to the rain that keeps on falling, watering has not been too much of a chore. In fact, the garden has become a labor of love. In years past, there was a separate garden for the pumpkins. The problem with that was the hose didn't reach it very well so I had to do the best I could. This year it was decided to only have the one smaller garden and within that garden, include the pumpkins. Having that one smaller garden has been ideal. The pumpkin patch is getting the water it needs. The pumpkin plants are healthy. Their vines are stretching out of the garden and tiptoeing into the yard. And yesterday while out pulling weeds, I discovered a pumpkin. A beautiful pumpkin covered up with leaves like a child wrapped up in a favorite blanket. As I kept on pulling weeds, I thought of pumpkin patches from years gone by. The reason for having a pum...

Remember the fun of coloring the clowns or the puppies and kittens and all the simple artwork in those coloring books when growing up? There was nothing better than sitting down with your Crayola crayons and your favorite coloring books and spending time simply coloring. Between the unforgettable scent of the crayons and the many choices of basic artwork in those coloring books, the time spent coloring was magical. And quite creative. Very creative. Just think. With your Crayola crayons you could color the sun pink, the grass blue, kittens green and puppies red. Stars could be purple. Bananas could be orange. Whatever your imagination chose, those familiar objects could change their familiar colors and dress up like its Halloween, disguising themselves just like we do. Summer is a never-ending coloring book with its pages beautifully colored by Mother Nature in shades of primary and secondary colors. Some soft. Some bold. With the warmth of the sun, summer's colors seem richer. The...

If I am in the kitchen and happen to look out the window, more often than not these days I notice a robin, moving about and then stopping, then moving about and stopping over and over again in search of something to eat. I think it is the same robin that did the same thing last year at this time because that particular robin has taken up residence in the same nest as last year. I hope the robin can't tell I put a Christmas ornament in the nest. It made the perfect decoration with snow all around. Funny how the seasons slip in and out of our lives as we hurry about. One day you notice that mountain of snow that you thought would never go away has melted and grass is in need of cutting. Spring flowers have pushed their way through the cold, blossoming just when you need a bit of color in the landscape, and your heart. Yesterday my son Brian and I went on our favorite cruise, taking us through Amish country. Signs of spring were everywhere. Roadside stands were opening up. Soil was be...

  The other day I stopped at an Amish farm I’d driven by many times. It had nothing to do with their roadside stand. It was because an Amish woman at another roadside stand told me that one of the three Amish men on their local school board lived there. She told me this after I voiced my curiosity about Amish schools. I explained I liked to write stories. Some for children. Some for adults. I told her I had an idea for a new storyline which included an Amish community. A particular character was the Amish teacher. I asked her if it would be possible for me to visit an Amish school. That’s when she told me about that Amish farm where that Amish man on the school board lived. I never did tell her I had been wanting to visit an Amish school for years. New storyline or not. So, the other day when I finally stopped at that Amish farm, the Amish man on the school board was home. He was more than kind. A half hour later I was parking my car off the road, in front of the Amish school I had...

  I was hanging clothes out on the clothesline the other day when I noticed something moving in a field across the road. I couldn't figure out what it was, so I went inside the house for my phone and told Brian I'd be right back. As I crossed the road, I still couldn't figure out what it was until "it" moved. What I'd seen was the top of a hat. I discovered it was worn by an artist from New Jersey, Catherine Whitehead. She travelled here to participate in Morristown's Plein Air event. I could only see the top of her hat because she was sitting in the field, painting. The field was a collage of beautiful, colorful wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. When I think about it, such a scene is repeated alongside so many of our country roads. After introducing myself, I learned this artist was infatuated with the fields drenched in purples and yellows and oranges and shades of white and green. Catherine Whitehead was delightful. Very welcoming despite my int...

  I've been thinking about the day I took this photo a few years ago. It was mid-January and although it doesn't look it, the temperature was below zero. It was a day like the recent days we've been experiencing. Beautiful and sunny, then absolutely earth shattering frigid cold when the sun goes down. Even the moon, as glorious and bright as it has been, is unable to warm the night. I remember standing there in the snow, dressed in layers and shivering as I took some photos and as I took the photos, I listened to the Amish men, laughing and talking as they cut through the ice, then loaded those blocks onto wagons to take back home and store in their barns or sheds. A dog they had with them barked as the cattails snapped to my touch and geese said good morning. The horses stood in place, a few curious of my presence. I remember hearing and reading stories my Aunt Helen wrote in a family cookbook of my grandfather, bundled up in his fur coat and cap and his horses covered in ...

Green beans fresh from the garden were favorites growing up. Whether my grandmother was feeding a hungry crew in from the fields during haying season or whether she'd prepared some green beans for a family summer get together in her backyard, her green beans were always so delicious. When we'd gather for picnics those green beans quickly disappeared. They were consistent in their taste. All she did after cooking them was add some milk, a bit of butter, salt and pepper. I can still see her sitting outside on the back stoop of her farmhouse in her house dress and apron, cutting the ends off the beans, then slicing those beans fresh from the garden. My mother sometimes sat outside to cut the ends off her green beans, then slice them into pieces but more often than not, she'd have me do it. Maybe that's because I'd snip those ends off in record time. Slice them just as fast and enjoy a few along the way. After they were cooked, she prepared them as my grandmother did. T...

I was out back watering the garden the other day when the click clopping of hoofs on pavement caught my attention to a horse and buggy going by. I didn't think much about it since I still had a lot of watering to do. A few minutes later a familiar voice made me turn around. I was happy to find the young Amish girl standing by the carrot patch. Over the past few years she'd stop by selling whatever fresh produce she had from her family garden. That day sh e was selling raspberries. I was always an easy sell. Not because of the produce but rather because of her. I enjoyed her visits. Our conversations were lively. She was curious. She was smart. She was funny. Her eyes always had a spark. For a small frame girl, her voice was powerful. One time when she stopped my granddaughter was at my home for an overnight. She was mesmerized by the young Amish girl. But that day the young Amish girl was quiet. She did ask if my daughter was home. When I told her no she asked if my gran...

I’d ridden by the Amish farmhouse with Christmas wreaths displayed on the front porch a few days earlier. The contrast of red bows against off-white clapboards caught my eye. I didn’t have time to stop but I knew I’d get back there. And I did earlier this morning despite the zero-degree temperature and a light snow making the less travelled, winding road a little slippery. But that didn’t stop me. There was something about that simple house with corn shocks gathered in a nearby field and those wreaths on display in the cold that made me feel like Santa lived there. I noted tracks leading from the barn to the road. They were from the wheels of a buggy and a horse pulling it. I noted footsteps in the snow. Someone was off somewhere early. Maybe the North Pole?   Thoughts of that someone out in the freezing cold made me hurry along a shoveled path leading to the front porch where the wreaths were hanging from nails. Aromas of cedar and pine and something baking inside brought m...

I was late-in a hurry to pick my son up at the Steps-2-Grow Greenhouse/Garden. As I was going around a curve in the road, coming towards me was an Amish man working a field with his team of horses. As he was about to take the curve on his 'road' which would have led him away from me, we shared a wave and a smile-something most of us do as we pass by our Amish neighbors. Then I went looking for my camera. Grabbing hold of it, I pulled my car off the r oad and got out. Running through some weeds and gravel I waved to him again-this time pointing to my camera. Bringing the horses to a stop, he got up from his seat and smiled the biggest smile. "Can I take a picture?" I asked. "No. I do not want my picture taken," he replied walking towards me. "Can I take a picture of your horses?" "Where are you from?"  I told him. Then I asked, "Where's your farm?" He pointed. "The one with all the children!" We both lau...

Harvesting Ice in the Wintertime: Years back one of my aunts-the oldest of six sisters-blessed all of us with a hand-written recipe book featuring my grandmother's recipes-many enjoyed for generations. But that recipe book titled, "Mom' s Farm Kitchen", is so much more as my talented aunt divided the book into the four seasons. At the beginning of each section she wrote her memories of growing up on the farm in relationship to that particular season. It's a true treasure-telling not only family stories but of life in general-a documentary of a simpler time. Today I found myself thinking of one particular Winter entry my aunt wrote as I happened upon Amish harvesting ice not far from where I live. After taking a picture of them hard at work in sub-zero weather, I came home-pulled out the cookbook and read what she'd written about the times my grandfather "hired out with his team of horses and a flat-bedded sleigh to draw ice from the St. Lawrence to...