Notes From Zone 4

We’ll return shortly t our regularly scheduled farm journal. But first I want to comment on two important events this week. First, the Wall St. bailout. Yes it was a bailout. It was rammed through with high pressure and panic, just like the Patriot Act and the Iraq war. I’m sure he just made the

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Last night I was watching the sunset from the balcony. It was cooling down, and I’d lit the woodstove at lunchtime. The last leaves were still beautiful, and I caught a whiff of smoke on the breeze. It all just seemed so right, so comfortable. Somehow, that bit of woodsmoke made the dying year and

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I got an email the other day in response to this entry, where I wrote and showed pictures of the red, white and blue pansies that I put on my front porch. The reader said to me that she was glad to meet a fellow Republican gardener, and that we should stick together. She spoke

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The Old Man of the Mountains died last weekend, leaving 1.3 million grandchildren and uncountable neices and nephews. That pile of rock symbolized New Hampshire in a way that few other states, hell few other places of any kind are symbolized. Really the only other ones I can think of are the Kiwi and the

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Like the rest of the country, and really, much of the rest of the world, we’ve been huddled inside the house, mourning and watching the September 11th news coverage, not tending to the garden. Eventually, though, we just had to get outside. Frank went out and moved firewood and drove tractors last night, restless. I made it almost around the deck, deadheading madly and drastically. It’s been two weeks, really, since it’s had any attention, and I had to be pretty heavy handed with the pruning. But there’s some connection there that I felt as I was cutting the plants back pretty hardily — they will come back, stronger than ever. So we we all.