I guess the end of the calendar year is something like the end of a college semester. It is time to sell the old books, clean out the closet and start fresh. Time to revoke, reveal and renew.
The first thing, I have learn in the last year that gray hair makes me look older, looking more like my mother did in her senior years. It would be simple to start coloring my hair again but I can't bring myself to be a servant to it. My life has become about health, not looks. I do realize I have to be conscious of wearing more makeup to look attractive, alive and healthy.
Building that chicken coop was one of the hardest things I under took last year, that is second thing I realize. The main difficulty was I could not do it myself and so I was depended on my crew but also because I am not strong enough to handle the electric tools nor do I have the skill.
I studied styles and designs of coops for a month and settled on one and ordered the plans. I figured out the materials with conversations with guys at the local stores.
Then I realized it was like watching the same ballet 100 times and in your head, you know all the moves and the music but one you stand up to do it, the body will not follow.
My crew included, John, my husband, I would describe as indifferent to negative on the whole idea of chickens. That is simply his nature about any change or new thing, so I quickly worked around him. John was presence at each work shift, often was a key help, balanced by sitting and keeping us company other times.
Phil, my brother, the most knowledgeable about tools and a key worker. I found Phil's plan of building to be toward the extreme of overbuilding. Phil's ideas reflect experience of skill but his coop will be here all after all this crew had died.
Ken, my son, the strongest of the individuals on this project was content is the nail came close to the second board and felt the coop could have been assembled in one easy afternoon. His casual, care free manner was about the opposite of Phil's. His wiliness to constantly show up to the garage for more work was key to finishing.
Frequently, presence were two grandchildren Mira age seven and Ahman age five. They were helpful in picking up all the dropped nails, screws and running for the item missing. Of course, they were truly behind this whole project from the beginning and the three of us shared a vision that we still have about the chickens.
We built it for about a third of the cost of having it built for us but I probably would not do it undertake this building project again. A loud vote yes for the chickens, though.
The third thing, I remember from last year is spring fruit tree planting that included two plum trees, four apple trees and two nut trees plus three kiwi vines. Oh, plus the new research bed for the Japanese blueberries It sound like a lot to add to the yard but the trees are on wood that should not grow much taller than a bush six to eight feet.
This brings me to a major shift about my edible landscape. The soil is a boring subject but an very interesting one at the same time. Can't harvest taste or health from dead or unbalanced soil. I have changed my focus for the next year to the soil. Manure, oyster shells, kitchen garbage composted, are all part of the new plan. I am going to replicate a 1940 approach to home gardening before commercial petroleum fertilizers were used.
Ultimately, the longest and most lasting change of the past year is the acceptance of the fact, that I am getting more radical, as I grow older. I am sorting though the institutions that have giving the double talk for centuries in some cases, like religious groups or the political systems that have rusted out with greed and corruption. My role of being active instead of passive about the condition of this planet, the direction of social change has already started but I see it continuing in a more intense manner.
One finial note on my life this past year. John and I have started a traditional that plays out in two ways, both involve wine. Some glorious, sunny but cool days of fall, winter or spring we let the chickens out of the coop and let them run the yard, while we have lunch outside. These lunches we call, Paris Lunches, because if we were visiting Paris we would get an outside table and enjoy a simple sandwich or soup with a glass of wine. We simply eliminated the flight. The other season of the year, summer, when the afternoon has finally quieted down and it is time to stop working, we let the chickens out in the yard and we sit and watch them with a glass of wine. Daisy is always near by and the conversation is always about our day's projects.
Yes, I call my life, a designer's life. It is. Hope yours is too. Happy New Year to all.
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