Of Uncomposted Compost Piles

Talk about your Plan B. Or C, even.

All our snowy winter I anticipated walking out to our compost pile and beholding the lovely dirt which magically would come from all the organic stuff I threw in the compost 'corral' last summer. So finally last week I yanked up three of the removable boards, then raked and poked and pulled stuff out to see the glorious new dark, crumbly soil inside.

But what did I see instead? Pine needles. Twigs. Leaves. Pine cones. The occasional pumpkin rind. A plastic market bag (what the heck?).

Gah! Two-thirds of my compost pile was just sitting there like an un-composted, pathetic-looking lump. Ack. Fortunately the vast majority of fruit and vegetable skins had disappeared, though, which was pleasant since half-decomposed fruits and vegetables are so not pretty.

At first I was bummed. And at first I blamed myself for not adding enough grass clippings or water last year--something that still, small voice kept nagging me to do. You know, the same still, small voice I ignored in a procrastinating way.

But guess what? I've become thrilled and pleased as punch with my un-composted compost pile. Why? Because I spent this weekend spreading the pine needles, pine cones,twigs and leaves down upon my flower beds as mulch, instead.

I adore the look. Not to mention the helpfulness of mulch in combating weeds. And now when I gaze upon my flower bed with all its pine droppings and leaves I'm reminded of the forests and natural sanctuaries Tom and I have visited. The Redwoods come to mind, especially when I inhale true sun-warmed pine scent as God meant it (quite unlike that ghastly pine junk in a can).

I can't wait to cover all my flower beds this way. I even searched and poked around our 'sheddingest' pine tree, found no extra needles (because I'd raked them up last month) and was disappointed. I gazed up into the tree and saw no mature pine cones and not one rusty about-to-drop pine needle. Drats.

Our other evergreen lost a few small branches (tangles with big work trucks and Bob's milk truck) and I'm--get this--considering cutting the needles from the branches with scissors--they're not the type that just fall off. Now I'm all, like, "Give me more needles or I shall die!" :)

Hooray for alternate plans and for being happy anyway. That's what I say. That's how I try to live.

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Not to fear--the very bottom of my official compost pile is lovely dirt and I do have another compost pile. It's our big weed pile behind the barn. Plus, there's the rest of the mountain of dirt, sheep droppings and straw from when the guys put in gravel in 2008--very rich, fluffy stuff, perfect for the garden, as I discovered last year.

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"We did everything wrong, but it came out right." ... Elliott Merrick in Green Mountain Farm

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Were you handed a lemon? Create some yummy, icy lemonade!

When Your News Is All Bad

I know how it is.

When everything is going wrong--and appears like it will continue that way--the temptation is to plop oneself upon the nearest comfortable couch and sulk. And worry, imagine dire futures, panic, cry. 

And call friends and complain and set them to worrying. And get up and go to the kitchen for comfort food or call out for it, and then chew and imagine that your best days are behind you and now just worst days are ahead.

And some people get mad at God and blame Him for peoples' lack of wisdom, foolishness and for accidents or years of eating wrong foods and no exercising and smoking, drinking, pollution, stress and not going to bed earlier. 

But oh Honey, God is perfect and never made a mistake in His whole life.

What I'm learning to do in times of trouble? To steal time alone with God so that I can fall more deeply in love with Him, for it's that love which makes us rich in joy, in strength. I pray, He listens, He speaks and I am comforted.  And I lean against His shoulder and find my deepest needs met there.

And He changes everything, even if, at first, it's my attitude, only, which became more hopeful, calmed, blessed.

And then? He leads to me to watch Him work--or--to do a little work, myself. To seek the answers I need as He leads.

That is what I'm learning to do in times of trouble. That is what I do to come out stronger over on the other side of it.

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The farther we allow ourselves to sink, the longer and harder it will be to yank us back up.


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"In Your presence is fullness of joy..."


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We are so not helpless. We have the best Helper of them all.


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Found this today. Loved it.

Our Home, Immortalized

Is this perfect, or what? Yesterday Donna and John visited us and brought Donna's finished portrait of our house.

Wow. Tom and I are enchanted. Donna captured the spirit of our place, but with landscaping improvement ideas that, of course, now we'll have to steal in Real Life. And she even painted our barn white which will be its color later this year, something even I wasn't certain of when I last spoke with her. Wow again.

I am so thankful we had this portrait done. Always it will be a remembrance of our gift from God of these country years.

Donna said she'd be willing to paint other peoples' houses from photos. Anyone interested? If so, contact me at GladOne4@yahoo.com and I'll email you the pricing and sizing information.
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To NancyR--Oh! There's a third in the Fifty Acres and a Poodle series? I'll have to hurry and read the second one. :) And finally (finally!) I ordered Nancy Eberle's Main Street book. Thanks for the reminders! I've always loved her essay which I included here, so I'm sure I'll enjoy her book, also.


For anyone interested, there's an online review of Return to Main Street by Nancy Eberle here, but you have to use your cursor to move the article around. It's the only review I could find. Alas.