Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The picture of the peony on this antique postcard could have been taken by the lady of the house I live in, 100 years ago. The house resembles ours, and there is an old peony planted at the same corner. My husband found it in an antique store, and mailed it to me, 30 years ago. He was in Wisconsin looking for a good farm we could buy. We were determined to leave the city and get back-to-the-land, where we meant to build our house, grow and preserve our own food, and I'd weave all the cloth for our clothes! He hadn't found anything promising.
Just like the lady who lived in my house then, I take photos of my white peony every year as it blooms in the front yard, propped up with sticks and bentwire edging fence. I also collect finch nests that blow down from the big white pine tree in spring storms, and line them up on my kitchen window sill. Other than that, I don't think her life was much like mine has been here. Our experiment in getting back to the land didn't turn out at all as we expected. What did happen was much more interesting. And, thank goodness, I never wove one thing for us to wear.