Friday, April 8, 2011

How in the world did it get to be April?  And could it be that before May comes the snow will be gone and the ground soft enough to dig up all the shrubs and trees that the 39 deer living and sleeping right outside my window literally ate to the nub for breakfast.  You see they knew this was a Bed and Breakfast.  And so now "we"--who?  -- need to plant trees and shrubs with green on them.  You see, on the 11th of June we plan on having a wedding at Volden Farm.  You see, it needs to be looking nice for such an illustrious event.  How I wonder as I look around, begin raking where there is no snow-- the muck of what happens during the long months down under, can it possibly be a green world by June.  That is when faith comes by and sort of reminds me that it does--every year.  You see, it just doesn't seem possible.  And where there was snow yesterday, there is mud today.  Boots heavy with mud are lined up on the porch of this northerly wooden ancient looking " Russian Dacha "--proving what I say is true.

Come see for yourself if you are brave enough.  O my.  Wonder of Wonders. And I should be finishing taxes and writing dates and plans for the almost finished barn.  Some  alleyway interior finish work and some painting of 5 small windows to be installed for the exterior and hopefully a ramp and smoothing out the piled up dirt from winters labors--bathroom, kitchen, and bunkrooms having been completed.

Lots of fun surprises in this space used for horses and cats and straw and hay and all the stuff under foot that is gone...GONE  Twenty five years of that life..and POOF...no more.  Now it's paintings and candles and MOOD.  And comfy chairs and techy ways to bring the big screen to us.  I am one excited woman.  Do think about what you need this barn to do for you

Cold War..Russian History..Quilting...Reading out loud..head busting discussions...best of all a week of music every night..Conferencing Energy Issues with the Luverne Wind farm RIGHT OUTSIDE the windows.  And John Steinbeck..he is stored on his very own bookshelf..upstairs just waiting to worm around in our brains..

Enough...back to taxes...gobs of good dreams to all of you...JoAnne...bye