Dragon's Breath and Lake Snow

Cold, crisp, clear blue sky. December. Absolutely still. Lake mist swirls above the surface of the glassy water rising in billows of pure white brushed with soft yellow and peachy-pink. Breath of the dragon floats above Lake Champlain. Then falls back to earth as glittering, dancing lake snow. Take- my- breath- away beautiful even after almost 40 years of witnessing. I am blessed to live here, by this lake, surrounded by this beauty.

Moodling

In August of 2004 I took a writing course called Writing Shelburne Farms. It was taught by Elizabeth Getchell, a professor at the University of Vermont, and Gale Lawrence, a writer. For as long as I can remember I have been keeping a journal and, for most of my adult life, I have told people that the reason I ask so many questions is because I am writing a book. So the idea of taking a writing course, giving myself the gift of two weeks devoted to writing was exciting. Plus, it was at Shelburne Farms, a place I have felt deeply connected to since I first stumbled upon it in the winter of 1974. Here is one piece from that wonderful two week course.
     Moodling, such a delicious word. Gale told us about moodling today. It is when you put ideas on the back burner while you go about the tasks that are on the front burners. All the ideas from this writing course, for example, can be placed on the back burner to moodle while I do the laundry, or grocery shop, or make supper. Moodling gives the mind a chance to relax, go on vacation. Then, when it's time to write again there is a wealth of material that almost writes itself.
     I think that farming moodled on the back burner for years and years. I didn't grow up on a farm. I didn't actively engage in any form of farming except for two weeks every summer visiting my grandparents and great-grandmother. I pursued very non-farming careers, although I did begin vegetable and flower gardening when I was twenty. Through my twenties my gardens were my friends-where I meditated-how I kept hold of me. The idea of farming was moodling. I mean, I was a banker, after all.
     Farming moodled there on the back burner until my mid-thirties when someone asked me to write down any interests or skills I might have that I would be willing to share with children in my daughter, Jaska's, school. Well, I had beautiful gardens. I loved started seeds. I was captivated by the magic, the mystery in the world of plants. I could share that! And I loved, still do, working with kids.
     Jaska's teacher, Sue Jewett, also a passionate gardener, took me up on my offer. Soon I was turning on lights and starting seeds with fourth graders. I was winging it all the way when it came to creating lesson plans. But I KNEW how to grow things and I intuitively knew how to talk to kids and enroll them in the magic.
     A farmer-educator-business owner emerged like a butterfly from its cocoon.

Mrs. Clean Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Imagine declaring that you are starting a business growing and selling annual flowering plants and herbs.  Now, imagine that this business will be located in northwestern Vermont.  Said flowering plants and herbs must be started late January, February and March, if growing from seed, to be ready for sale at the beginning of May.  And, even if not being started from seed but being grown on from plugs or liners, they still must be potted up beginning early March. Northwestern Vermont is not exactly balmy late January through March.  As at matter of fact it is often the coldest part of the winter and the snowiest.  Where, oh where, will all these darling baby green beings live while growing up?  If you were a sane business woman starting this type of business you would obviously have a greenhouse so you could provide a nice cozy bright space for them.  Not me, though.  Oh, no. I started and ran this business for the first three seasons without a greenhouse...in Northwestern Vermont! Banks of lights and shelves filled what had once been the eating alcove.  Watering cans lined up by the cat's dishes. Potting soil bins rested by the kitchen sink while I was working and got shoved in to some corner when it was meal prep time.  Soon more lights and shelves were down in the basement where there was no sink so water was lugged down there two watering cans at a time.  Some days plants would spend the sunny hours on the three season porch only to be hauled back in after dark.  By mid-April benches outside the porch door would be filled up while the sun was out.  A lot of everyday was spent moving trays of plants from under lights to the three season porch to outside.  Potting up, sowing seeds all happened in the kitchen! Yes, in the kitchen!  Granted, I wasn't using the kitchen counter or the stove as work areas but there was potting soil in the kitchen, on the table, on the floor, in the sink....In the space of a few short weeks, that first season, I went from a person who vacuumed two or three times a week to someone spreading potting soil through out the house.  The vacuum cleaner got put away, the broom came out and from late January until the end of the growing season Mrs. Clean took a vacation.

In the beginning...

It was late winter 1998 and my husband, Andy and I were eating supper by the glow of grow lights.  I had been running a gardening program at Orchard School in South Burlington for 5 years at that point and seedlings seemed to be taking over what was the dining area.  I had a dream of owning my own greenhouse business but was waiting for the "perfect location, greenhouse, time, money" etc.  I looked at Andy and said, "you know, I know how to do this...grow beautiful plants, teach people about them.  And nobody needs this many seedlings for their own personal gardens.  I am going to start my business right now."  A few nights later I sat down with my daughter, Jaska, to brainstorm possible names for this new business.  We wrote down all the words that we liked and began putting them together.  Some of the combinations were just silly, some not very catchy, most did not speak to either of us at all.  On the list was the word dance and it suddenly struck me...dance...that was it.  When I work with plants I feel as if  I am dancing with them, sometimes I am the leader, sometimes they are. I also remembered that one of my favorite songs was She's Just Dancing by David Wilcox.  Voila!  The name Just Dancing was born.