Ceres - the goddess of vegetation and fruitfulness

Ceres, the goddess of agriculture in Roman mythology, balances precariously atop the gilded dome of Vermont's State Capital, hugging her wheat sheaf. Although, in this photograph, the illustrious deity has been overshadowed by a changing maple leaf! Apologies, dear Ceres, from an inexperienced photographer...

At this time of the year, I become quite domesticated, even fruitful, in my daily 'doings'. Making delicious soups and breads, knitting, jam-making, tidying up the place, all, I suppose, in anticipation of winter's blasts. It's an unwritten beckoning, an instinctive obligation, a 'just in case' feeling. Activities not peculiar to man, when one considers the frantic nut-hoarding of the squirrels in the woods!

And so, dear Ceres, whoever you are, figment of man's imaginings though you be: be pleased today, as this one, together with her squirrel friends, rushes madly about, doing this and that, at a ludicrous attempt to ready her house and home for the coming winter. Goddess of agriculture, vegetation and fruitfulness, we thank your Creator for His abundant blessings in the garden and in the fields, and for His Spirit who inspires us, and for His Son, who gives us life and that more abundantly!

Swan Song in the Meadow

Just look what I found in the meadow this weekend! A splash of floral splendour, that simply could not be left out there in the field for no-one to notice. I gathered them greedily then rushed home to let them drink deeply in my little Simon Pierce vase, almost hidden beneath the maple leaves. Autumn is here, and last night we had a chilling frost. It's time to start knitting and spinning and reading Robert Frost...time for jam-making and apple-picking, time for bread-making and leek and potato soup. Time to fill the house with warmth and provisions, logs and verse, prayer and praise...

Before I Was A Mom - by ?

Before I was a Mom

I never tripped over toys

or forgot words to a lullaby.

I didn't worry whether or not

my plants were poisonous.

I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom

I had never been puked on.

Pooped on.

Chewed on.

Peed on.

I had complete control of my mind

and my thoughts.

I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom

I never held down a screaming child

so doctors could do tests.

Or give shots.

I never looked into teary eyes and cried.

I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.

I never sat up late hours at night

watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom

I never held a sleeping baby just because

I didn't want to put her down.

I never felt my heart break into a million pieces

when I couldn't stop the hurt.

I never knew that something so small

could affect my life so much.

I never knew that I could love someone so much.

I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom

I didn't know the feeling of

having my heart outside my body.

I didn't know how special it could feel

to feed a hungry baby.

I didn't know that bond

between a mother and her child.

I didn't know that something so small

could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom

I had never gotten up in the middle of the night

every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.

I had never known the warmth,

the joy,

the love,

the heartache,

the wonderment

or the satisfaction of being a Mom.

I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much,

before I was a Mom.

May you always be overwhelmed by the Grace of God rather than by the cares of life.

* * * * * * * *

This beautiful poem has touched my heart, so I have included it in the Mossfairy pages to bless others. Thank you so much, Linda, I shall treasure it always.

* * * * * * * *

A love song for Sapphie

Skinneraminky dinky dink,

Skinneraminky doo,

I love you!

Skinneraminky dinky dink,

Skinneraminky doo, I love you!

I love you in the morning, and in the afternoon,

I love you in the evening, underneath the moon!

Oh, skinneraminky dinky dink,

Skinneraminky doo,

I love you!

Love from Lalla xxx

Upside down in the garden!

I love just messing about in the garden! I spent the best part of this morning upside down in the front rose bed, and as I weeded and trimmed, I remembered that Mum had given me my very own spot in the garden at Marston Magna. It was a corner wedge, right behind the brick wall that held the iron gate from the front to the back garden on the side of the house. My little bit of earth never felt the warmth of the sun, nor did anything grow in it, but an acacia tree, backed by the stone wall onto the lane. This wall seemed to wick any water from the soil, and try as I would, the acacia tree remained the sole live corner dweller. But it kept me out of mischief for hours on end...mostly I made fairy houses and fantastic worlds out of rocks and twigs and moss...always the moss!

This weekend we had a surprise visit

from Hannah, who spent her waking

hours upside down in the garden, thinning out the baby beets. She seemed so content to be just pottering, continuing the generational delight of pulling weeds and growing things. I took a photograph of her through this sunflower, because it had an enormous bumble bee on it...heaven only knows where it went to! She went home with a beautiful red cabbage, a few onions, and 3 jars of that scrumptious crabapple butter!

...and after!

Here is my very first batch of crabapple cider butter! I'm so pleased with the result: it's absolutely delicious. I could have possibly been a little more proud, however, had I not spilled 2 jars of this heavenly concoction onto the floor! The dogs weren't terribly enthusiastic about cleaning up the dreadful mess, but between us, we managed to do a good job while the first batch was having their boiling water bath to seal them. So, in my advancing years, I'm still learning lessons: it's never to late to learn; if a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well; and always play it safe! For the first lesson, I found a wonderful Amish recipe, but as a matter of fact, it called for 18 gallons of crabapples! So I put my algebra to work, and figured out the formula!! The second lesson involved the idea of not trying to hurry things up; by taking my time, I would have been more successful, and the last two jars would have remained standing. The third lesson received quite a good grade until excited anticipation sent the last 2 jars toppling...I shall be much more careful next time.

The apples came from the crabapple tree outside the church on Crawford Farm Road. It has never failed to produce an abundance of apples, and is always a delight for sore eyes when it blossoms in early summer. We shall enjoy the apple butter in the ramekin for dinner tonight, as an accompaniment to the chicken we shall cook on the spit outside. Hannah's coming!!

Crab Apple Butter ~ Before The Fact!

The colour of these crab apples is exquisite, and it seems such a pity to put them in a pot with sugar and exotic spices and boil the Dickens out of them! The resultant crab apple butter, however, soon eradicates any pity I may have had earlier. Poured into glass jars, sealed and set on the shelves until Thanksgiving, this is the true beginning of Harvest Home! Let the pickling begin!

Poor knee!

Just look at this amazing flower! One of the few that the darling deer left unscathed. If you look closely, you can just about see a honey bee enjoying his breakfast, packing his trousers with the golden treasure. That's when I thought about bees knees, and hoped that this bee's knees were feeling a lot better than my poor knee, which seems to have conked out altogether! I was on my way to the orthopaedic surgeon, when I noticed the sunflower simply shining in the morning's glory, so I took her picture with my phone, and I'm so glad that I did because the rest of the morning went slip sliding down the hill at an out-of-control rate! The sorebones asked me (quite seriously!) how long had my legs been so crooked!! So I told him 62 and a half years! But I was quick to add that they'd done me right proud for all those years, with no complaints until now. So after a thorough examination of the offending knee, they drew 3 vials of fluid from the knee joint! I can't even begin to describe the intensity of the pain! The needle was fatter than my fattest tapestry needle, and in it went, right into the angry joint. The following cortisone shot was a breeze...in fact, even produced a chuckle! An MRI has been scheduled soon, then we'll go from there. I wish I was a bee!