Farm Journal
Thoughts and images from life at Foster Road
- Journal Entries
- 60: JUNE 30, 2010
- 59: JUNE 10, 2010
- 58: MAY 28, 2010
- 57: MAY 13, 2010
- 56: APRIL 30, 2010
- 55: APRIL 19, 2010
- 54: APRIL 5, 2010
- 53: MARCH 19, 2010
- 52: FEB. 20, 2010
- 51: FEB. 14, 2010
- 50: FEB. 9, 2010
- 49: FEB. 1, 2010
- 48: JAN. 27, 2010
- 47: JAN. 20, 2010
- 46: JAN. 15, 2010
- 45: JAN. 10, 2010
- 44: DEC. 18, 2009
- 43: DEC. 15, 2009
- 42: DEC. 7, 2009
- 41: DEC. 2, 2009
- 40: NOV. 22, 2009
- 39: NOV. 13, 2009
- 38: NOV. 6, 2009
- 37: NOV. 4, 2009
- 36: OCT. 23, 2009
- 35: OCT. 10, 2009
- 34: OCT. 9, 2009
- 33: SEPT. 30, 2009
- 32: SEPT. 23, 2009
- 31: SEPT. 12, 2009
- 30: SEPT. 9, 2009
- 29: SEPT. 7, 2009
- 28: SEPT. 2, 2009
- 27: AUG. 29, 2009
- 26: AUG. 21, 2009
- 25: AUG. 20, 2009
- 24: AUG. 18, 2009
- 23: AUG. 16, 2009
- 22: AUG. 14, 2009
- 21: AUG. 13, 2009
- 20: AUG. 12, 2009
- 19: JULY 23, 2009
- 18: JULY 3, 2009
- 16: JULY 1, 2009
- 15: JUNE 7, 2009
- 14: MAY 31, 2009
- 13: MAY 25, 2009
- 12: APRIL 24, 2009
- 11: APRIL 21, 2009
- 10: APRIL 16, 2009
- 9: APRIL 15, 2009
- 8: APRIL 13, 2009
- 7: APRIL 12, 2009
- 6: APRIL 1, 2009
- 5: MARCH 2009
- 4: FEBRUARY 2009
- 3: JANUARY 2009
- 2: DECEMBER 2008
- 1: OCTOBER 2008
New view
The new back wall was framed in today. At noon, I could look out through the rough opening that will be the window over the sink. By 5:30 the entire back wall was framed in and I could savor the magic of seeing my ideas come to life. Afternoon light streamed through the opening that will be the patio door and I could almost hear the hum of life to come.
On the once-outside, then-inside, wall of the back porch that will soon be my studio are notes from another carpenter, long ago calculations for the insulation and framing that we’re now tearing out. Nothing’s permanent, as was brought home by bad news this week.
Bert has cancer, a sarcoma reaching across his ribs under his left leg. His gait has changed and on Sunday I felt a hard mass that was different from his normally lumpy old-dog skin. I don’t know how long I’ll have with him, but whether it’s weeks or months, he’ll be spoiled rotten. Not much more I can bear to say.
