Happy Friday y’all!

It’s been a cold cold week for most of you. I hope you are faring well. We’ve had some strong winds and a cold day or two, but nothing like most of you. Last night was in the teens and yesterday evening’s walk through the woods to see the hellebores had my fingers burning with searing pain from the cold. I wasn’t dressed for it, but I’m not built for it either. Can’t imagine you folks living in areas with sub-zero temps. Y’all are tough.

Spring is threatening out here. Even through the blanket of cold and wet that we’ve been experiencing these last 2 weeks, we can feel winter’s seams about to bust. Spring’s tendrils are creeping their way through its stitches and letting us know that life is itching to end its dormancy…. To crack its seeds and stretch its radicals into the damp soil, to reach its cotyledons towards the light, to open its blossoms and waft out its enchanting scents in order to entice the awakening insects to drink its nectars and carry its pollens and create next season’s seeds.

Already we’ve had glimpses of that lush and fragrant time. The Witch Hazel has flowered. The most unassuming and incognito flower you’ve ever been lucky enough to smell and confused enough to walk past in your search for the source. The flowers are all but invisible if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

The winter honeysuckle just about drowned me in its seductive lullaby of olfactory delights as I walked across the farm one warm night 2 weeks back. My favorite of them all. Citrusy and delicious and somehow completely spiritually refreshing. It fully lifts my spirits every single time I’m embraced in it’s sweet smell.

Spring is pulsing under winter’s surface. It’s coming.

If y’all remember my possum encounter in the rafters of the barn, you may recall that I was repairing a little rot on one post, that turned out to have spread through the whole gable end wall (the wall shaped like a triangle). It was a pretty big repair job that had a few moving parts (metaphorically speaking) and I was happy to have safely gotten to the end after a few days of repeatedly bonking my head on rafters and trying to figure out how to take everything apart, while simultaneously keeping it all supported so the barn wouldn’t collapse and take the studio and Pack House down with it.

As I was attaching the very last top plate to the adjoining wall with the same countenance as a horse just catching sight of the barn, my heart sank. The screw sank easily and deeply into the rotten wood that supports the heavy rafters, that support the whole roof, that supports 40+ solar panels. The whole north wall’s expiration date had arrived and it needed to go.

I had a few moments of doubting my next steps. In addition to the challenge of supporting a whole side of a building while removing the very wall that supports it, I was confronted with the challenge of envisioning the steps required to repair a 100 year old barn that was built like a weird jigsaw puzzle with hand hewn lumber in places and rough sawn or non dimensional lumber in others, and full on tree trunks in others. It required that I be very thoughtful with each step and that every step take 3x longer than if it were a standard building that was level, square, plumb, and used 2x4’s.

  We’ve also learned that a significant agricultural pest called the Spotted Lanternfly has made its way to Georgia.  The GA Department of AG just came out and finalized Rachel’s training in doing inspections to make sure we aren’t sending any of these devastating pests to CA with our dahlia tubers.  Rest assured California dahlia customers….if Rachel sees one, she’ll put it in a headlock.  It’s not catching a free ride to the Golden State on our watch.  I mentioned walking through the hellebores last night.  The woods are gorgeous with them right now.  Mandy got carried away a few years ago, cleared out all of the choked out understory of our 3 acres of woods and planted I don’t know how many thousands of hellebores.  Almost all Ice & Roses series.  They are the ones that are immune to the dreaded Black Death that plagues other hellebore varieties.  They also grow faster, aren’t as prone to downward facing blooms, and produce more flowers than other varieties.  At the time, spent and bedraggled, I didn’t get why she wanted to add another project to the one area of our property that wasn’t filled with projects.  But now I get it.  We do nothing to tend to them all year and yet they faithfully provide us with tremendous beauty in the understory of our woodland every year at the threshold of winter and spring.  When a slight breeze comes through and starts them swaying back and forth in the angled light of dawn or dusk, it really is peaceful and quite splendid to just be still and take it all in.  She always sees things I overlook.  I can’t imagine what this place would be like without her vision and persistence.That’s it for me.  Thank you all for following along and have a great weekend!

Steve