Agatha The Babysitter

Agatha says she's had better days.  A rather energetic little person made a visit the other day and decided that Agatha was indeed one of the nicest doggies she'd even seen.

She took a realllllly close look just to be sure.

Agatha is a good sport though, in spite of been inspected minutely from end to end. And, having to wear a blankie because surely doggie was cold! (Note the happy wagging tail ; )  

Agatha thought that having a little person to play with was wonderful. There was much handing out of snacks and happily, cookies made an appearance much more often than usual.

(Agatha says why can't we have cookies every day?).

In her other life, "Clara Rose" (don't you love that sweet name?)  is a bit of a diva in her own right.  She helps Aunt Terry & Agatha with picture taking and on occasion has been known to dress up looking very much like an honest to goodness little red riding hood and help show Agatha how to walk nicely on the leash.

Agatha realllllly enjoyed that one believe me. Clara Rose fancies herself quite the little dog trainer already.  I'm thinking she takes after someone else we know.  I had to laugh, she's a bit of a natural, look at her holding the slack in the lead properly at all of 2 years of age!

Since I'm sharing, I can't resist a few more beautiful photos, one of my niece, baby Clara Rose's mother Lydia DeVoe (more name love!). Be prepared, this is such a delightful photograph... I see my daddy's grin in baby Clara Rose...  Isn't she precious?

I always wished I had a lovely romantic name, I was supposed to be named Faith,,, but three days arguing in the hospital when I was born, resulted in nurses proclaiming I couldn't leave without my young parents agreeing on a name and my daddy who had I'm sure wanted a BOY finally prevailed and Terry Ellen was the result. Can you imagine?  Faith Cross  I'm not sighing...

And here's another of little miss, she's such a little old lady.  

Yes, all in all, we had a lovely day and after the little whirlwind went home Agatha spent some time going over the floors for me dealing with stray cookie crumbs. She say's she's always glad to help with the vacuuming. 

Golden Leaves Linger

Foxglove Farm Blog country life.

It looks like we'll have snow before nightfall, I can hear the  wind blowing wildly through the trees far up on Wigton Mountain.  I suppose technically, it's not really a mountain at all, but I always loved to hear daddy call it that.  Our farm certainly sits down in a valley and yes, there is a good sized expanse of steep tree covered hillside behind us, so I’m content to continue the tradition and convinced that he was close to correct anyway.

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The wind is doing it’s best to blow the last of the leaves off the little birch tree that sits somewhat sheltered by the house. It's a beautiful small tree and it still manages to hang onto it’s golden glory when all the other poor trees have lost their fall plumage.  Snow glitters down, and all the little birds begin in earnest their search for the food that fills our feeders and will help sustain them through another frigid Ohio winter.

A Chickadee lands a few inches from the window and surveys the offerings there.  He cocks a bright eye at me through the glass and at my greeting and gives his “Dee Dee Dee” call as he hops unafraid down the rustic buffet trying to choose which is the very best of such a bewildering array of bird goodness. I like to think we are old friends this tiny morsel and I, when I head outside bundled in scarf and gloves to fill the feeders, all I have to do is call and within a few seconds, down he flies landing right above my head on a convenient branch, singing cheerily and determined to land on my fingers I’m sure of it. That’s a goal of mine for this winter.  To hand feed some of our these little feathered folk.

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Once while staying at a cabin in Wisconsin, I spent several afternoons out on the back deck, reading beside a small dish of tempting seeds.  Amazingly, by the second day, the Chickadees and Nuthatches were not only landing and taking tidbits from the dish, but when I scooped up a palmful of kernels onto the palm of my hand, down flew a trim little black & white fellow and landing on my index finger, gave a chirp, chose a nice peanut and was off almost before my startled gaze could take in what had just happened.  I can still remember the fragile grip of his surprisingly warm little feet on my finger, the absolute wonder of that moment and the trusting gaze of an almost weightless small creature.

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I miss mother especially on days like this, how I wish I could pick up the phone and ring her to exclaim over the first snow, over the need to stock up on more birdseed.  For her to tell me of the deer that had visited her that morning and how they had enjoyed the ears of corn that she faithfully left out for them the night before.  She can’t answer the phone in her room at the nursing home anymore.  Dementia has taken away much of her ability to communicate, that despised disease has robbed my beautiful mother of nearly every link with her children, with everything she loved in this life.  The feeders outside her window hang ignored, she gazes dully at the tv screen or at the wall.  

Occasionally, when I visit she’ll look up and smile at me, try in vain to form even part of a sentence.  The other day she almost managed to laugh at something I said, I watched her struggling painfully for the correct response, for the words that were simply no longer within her grasp.  

I wake up in the night and pray for her, mourn for the life she lives in that place; I pray with tears that the Lord will comfort her, but that if it be His will, that He will take her home soon.  Her mother and father are there in that bright place; that Heaven that holds the things she held most dear. I believe God has room in that home for all the things his children have loved. He said that he was going to prepare a place for us, I love to think of what treasures he has there waiting for our astonished eyes to see when we walk into that land where there is no more night, no more tears, no more nursing homes or dementia or sadness, where the former things are passed away.  

I think of mother and her arrival on that shore, I like to believe that our sweet old collie Lad will be standing there with plumed tail awag in joyful welcome.  That her dog Rusty and the assortment of cats that found shelter at her door will all be waiting too for their beloved mistress. Her beautiful cat Snow, the gray kitten Joy, that she grieved the loss of for so many years.  All happily there waiting to make her homecoming that much more joyful.

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And so I watch the snow come down with my faithful dog Agatha at my feet and watch the golden leaves clinging still on the small birch tree, and I believe that the things I love and have lost are also being safely kept by Him who is Faithful.  

That even now, He does comfort and keep my poor mother and that it will be worth it all, when she gets home...

Autumn Comes To Our Valley

It’s so beautiful here in October, I confess it’s exceedingly hard to sit down at the computer and tear myself away from the array of glorious scenes right outside my windows.  Ohio has a bit of mercy on her inhabitants and before the winter winds begin to blast in earnest before the skies turn a leaden gray for months on end, there is a brief interlude of grace given to we mere northern mortals.  Ah, and so we’re lulled into thinking these crystal clear bright days and sapphire blue skies will last, but those of us who’ve experienced weathering her fierce winters are not so easily fooled!

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The gorgeous old Sycamore helps break the winds that come down from Canada with a vengeance. They’re called “Noreasters” and not for the faint of heart.  One of the fellows who cleared this land when we built the house had almost a wrestling match with me over this tree in particular.  “Oh, it’s just a common thing, let me clear this hill off for you lady!” and I stood in front of the beautiful red-leaved thing and despite the head-shaking disgust of our bulldozer driver, managed to keep this grand companion who has been a blessing every season since then.

One of my favorite views is from the upstairs back window, this tree has paid me back liberally for those efforts, faithfully putting on a show to reward for that small kindness.

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The view from the top of the hill facing north, again, looking toward Canada, our road down into the peaceful valley where our farm is situated.

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What a beautiful show we’ve had this autumn, some of the gorgeous old maples on our road.

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And we can’t neglect to mention the Oak trees for they too are spectacular this year!

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Oh, but the Sugar Maples, the trees of my childhood, the most wonderful colors of all.

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Another view of our picturesque valley.

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Agatha’s been spinning in circles trying to keep the cleanup crew on task.  They do leave a lot to be desired in the way of focus and keeping paws firmly on the job at hand!

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We’ve all been enjoying the leaves this year, some little people seem to get confused as to how to get all those leaves in ONE spot!

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I hope this finds you and your own two and four-footed companions enjoying your most beautiful fall ever, don’t forget to find a roadside stand and get some fresh cider and a few powdered donuts to celebrate the beauty of the season.  I’ll share some of the country roads around these parts next post, and Agatha says to tell everyone she’ll be doing her best to get this all raked up in the meantime!

What are your favorite bits that surround the season?  Not all of us are witness to such an extravagant display, how do you celebrate in your corner of the world?

Warmest Wags,

terry & agatha

Because They Love Us

I'm always amazed at the loving loyal hearts of the dogs I have owned over the years. Here's my sweet Agatha, a dog as totally without malice as any I've ever known.  The most cheerful of little souls, who greets me every morning just as if I've been away on a long journey. "Oh!" says she, "Finally we are together again" (she is forced to sleep on the landing outside my bedroom door because of her loud snoring poor girl).  With tail awag she happily waits for her favorite time of the day, "BREAKFAST! Oh JOY!" says she.

They don't ask for much. 

A pat on the head, a scratch behind the ears, oh we busy ones who sail past these pleading little faces with our long lists of the all the urgent, the important things that hurry us through our days.

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Those lists that rob us of so many of the best moments sprinkled here and there if we pause long enough to see them.  The small blessings that if we let them, can bring us so much joy.  Even the furry creatures who wait with baited breath for us to pause and enjoy just a moment with them, and perhaps a bit of their favorite treats if the truth be told... 

Last Rose Of Summer

It's been a long busy summer dear friends and I've missed writing and sharing all the daily bits and going's on's here at Foxglove Farm.  Agatha continues to faithfully keep watch for possible squirrel insurrections in the backyard and I find myself longing for just a few extra minutes to sit down and enjoy a  good old-fashioned writing jag as I call them.

I hope this finds you well and enjoying these beautiful last days of summer.I have a climbing rose right outside my kitchen door who has amazed visitors all summer long with her fragrant red blooms.  If you're a rose grower, she's called Climbing Red Eden and is worth any effort to acquire, incredibly fragrant with that wonderful old rose fragrance that has been lost from many modern roses.

The window box outside my kitchen still spills over with a riot of beautiful blooms, we'd best be enjoying all this extravagance of color, winter is right around the corner.  No worries, fall is yet to come with her wealth of autumn leaves and will keep us content until those first snowflakes start, so enjoy these long days of late summer wherever you are my friends!

High Summer At Foxglove Farm

My favorite season is upon us at Foxglove Farm; even Agatha seems to enjoy the beautiful early mornings as we make the rounds to see what's blooming in the garden and which of our favorite birds are back with us for the summer.

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I’ve been so busy with the puppies, and now since Agatha’s Apothecary takes much of my time, I’d just about decided that this year I just couldn’t spare much time for the flowers and little bird garden I’ve been working on for the last couple of seasons. All it took was the glorious appearance of the Peonies and my other faithful perennials to discard that nonsense! How could I not take the time to enjoy the fruit of previous years labors? The flowers have been just beautiful, and I’m glad that my early mornings are spent OUTSIDE and not peering at the latest item topping my To-Do List!

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The old bird feeder has seen better days, but the birds don’t seem to mind, and I love its classic lines and vintage charm. The Bluebirds have decided it’s one of their favorite spots to keep watch over their tiny babies hidden in the little birdhouse that stands just a few feet away.

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I’ve promised myself a post or two devoted to the Bluebirds, they have had quite a struggle but I’m happy to say that with some help from Agatha & I, they have raised several broods of the most endearing little fuzzy babies you’ll ever see. They have become almost tame, not even flying away when I come out to sit with my coffee. That tale will have to wait, but suffice to say that even Agatha knows they are our friends and at a word from me she charges out to chase off any real (or imagined) menaces to our small friends.

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If you look carefully, you can see the male Bluebird on top of his house. It’s literally only about 20 feet from the kitchen door, I have amazing stories of these gorgeous and exceptionally friendly little birds. Agatha watches carefully for bluebird dangers, she really is a grand little pocket protector of all the little people at Foxglove Farm. She might only lick some of the offenders but at least she tries to look fierce.

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I’ll explain all the streamers in another post, I’ve become a reluctant expert on how to keep them safe!

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And so with a few peeks at the bird garden I’m determined to enjoy,,, I hope this finds you enjoying your summer, whether it be full of bluebirds or perhaps the beach or the mountains or maybe just a good book out in the hammock.  Go find some lemons and fix a nice glass of lemonade and sit a spell and rest yourself!

Warmest Wags,

Terry & Agatha

(& Mr & Mrs Bluebird too!)