Category Archives: Family

the gold and the ring…

10 Wednesday Aug 2016

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I have just successfully completed the final hurdle in the track and field event that was the transferring of our internet account to the new National Broadband Network.

I think.

To be perfectly honest, it has been a tedious week at times, but at the moment I am standing on the dais accepting my gold medal for installing our NBN modem and net phone and having everything operational. Advance Australia Fair!

About a week ago I got the news that the replacement skylights for the ones smashed during the hail storm had arrived.

Smashed.

We are still waiting for the second lot to arrive. Immediately following that news I managed to lose my reading glasses out of a pocket on my morning walk. I found what was left of them.

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what was left of my glasses

Also smashed.

Apprehensive that there was an unfortunate pattern developing, I was greatly relieved when I was able to get into the optometrist the next day and order new glasses. I’m waiting for those to arrive–hopefully not smashed.

The day after the glasses incident we had an appointment with our tax agent. We have never resented paying taxes because we know if we hadn’t made the money in the first place there would be no tax to pay. Yes, occasionally we’d like to see it better spent, but that’s a separate issue. It took both of us about two hours each to get all the details and receipts together for this appointment and so far we have not heard from the agent that we have forgotten anything. Could there be another gold medal in the offing?

And just when we were feeling like the week was a bit of a slog, here came a FaceTime chat from our daughter and boyfriend in Greece.

💕’We are engaged to be married’💕

Boyfriend surprised her with a ring in the bottom of a wine glass while overlooking the sea, from a cliff top wine bar on Santorini. Could it be any more romantic? We are very happy for them, and for all of us. Daughter and Boyfriend have been together for 4.5 years, having met two weeks after she moved to Adelaide and having moved in together only a few weeks later. When love happens, it seems it is obvious, at least in our family. Hubby and I spent only 6 weeks together before becoming engaged so we kind of know how it can happen. We enjoy the future in-laws and of course our son-in-law-to-be and look forward to the future together.

walking the Bradshaw trail
along the walk at the Telegraph Station
clear sky walk at the Telegraph Station

The next day we celebrated with a beautiful walk at the Alice Springs Telegraph Station, something we have been meaning to do for years. And then we were back to seeming like we weren’t quite clearing the hurdles again. There was the morning I sat on the toilet and ‘mid-stream’ noticed a very large spider next to me. There was a worrying message from family, flaring of arthritis, and things seemed back to normal.

At times Life feels like preparation for the Olympics. We train and practice and drag ourselves back from defeat and frustration, time after time. And then we have a win. We have a win that makes the rest of it seem worthwhile, or at least tolerable. I’ll accept the gold for the technical win, but the real win, of course, is seeing someone I love accepting the ring.

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our little girl

pearls of synchronicity…

26 Tuesday Jul 2016

Posted by in Family, Inspiration, Life

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You have probably heard the expression ‘pearls of wisdom’, and to some degree that befits this story. However it is even more than that. It is a story about paying attention to our commitments, the feelings of others, and being in the moment.

We had a visit with Mum in March, tho we have just returned a few days ago from our most recent visit. During the March trip we arrived one morning to her apartment and she presented me with a small plastic bag and the remnants of what was once her favourite pearl necklace. Knowing I used to make jewellery and still had the tools, she said to me “I know it isn’t worth much but it means something to me, will you fix this for me?” To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to repair it because my jewellery making days are done. I’m kind of like that when I’m done with something. I don’t usually go back to it, though things can wax and wane over the years before I reach that point. But I would do just about anything for my lovely Mother ( just as she has done for me over the years) so I said I would do my best and return it to her.

Mum’s memory is not what it used to be (not sure mine is either, for that matter!). There are days when she remembers things and days when it is a struggle. She told me she had forgotten to remove the necklace before going to bed that night and it had broken in her sleep. She had searched the sheets and carpet for what pearls she could salvage but I could tell from looking at the remains in the bag, some were missing. The cleaner had already come that morning and vacuumed and changed sheets, so any unfound pearls were well and truly gone by now. That would make the task more challenging.

As one does with things about which we are unenthusiastic, I delayed repairing the necklace until a couple of weeks before our return visit. I estimated there were about 20 small pearls missing. Perhaps you will call it luck; I call it synchronicity, that the only pearls I had, other than a few freshwater pearls, were small glass ones. They were the perfect size and near perfect colour to complete the necklace. How did that happen?

When I returned the pearls to Mum, she was visibly happy, and immediately started to tell the story of how she came to have them. It was the first thing she bought herself, with her first pay check as a registered nurse, back in the late 1940’s. I had never heard that before and was so glad I had persevered to repair them.

A couple of days later, my niece was visiting us and the conversation led to my recollection as a small child, probably in about 1959 or 1960. I was watching Mum getting ready to go out for the evening; most children are fascinated to watch their parents do ‘grown up things’. I recalled her putting on makeup, which she seldom wore, and then opening a velvet covered, shell-shaped box to retrieve the jewellery inside it. Mum sparked up as I was recounting the memory, and said

“That was the box the pearls came in, and I still have it!”

“What?” I was truly shocked.

“It is in the bedroom in a little compartment on the bed head.”

Sure enough, when I went to look, it was there. It was an epic, full circle moment, an insight to my Mother’s life that may never have happened–if her necklace hadn’t broken, if I had not kept the tools to repair it, if I had not honoured my word to repair it, if she had not kept the box, if my niece had not visited, if Mum hadn’t had that moment of clarity…if, if, if…

Life is much more miraculous and surprising at times, than anything I could ever imagine.

pearls and box from ~1948
Pearls by Trifari
special pearls

every trip has a story…

23 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by in Family, Health, Travel

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We have been in the USA visiting and, hopefully, helping my Mother and immediate family for the last two and a half weeks. Our intentions were good, but our execution of the plan left a little to be desired. We had booked the trip 10 months ago when Qantas was having a good sale on Business class seats to the USA (two for 1!!). And at that time we had just returned from a trip there and it seemed like two weeks would be long enough. Erroneous thinking on many levels. We are left wondering what led us to this decision, so that we don’t repeat it.

qantas-retro-roo

Our Qantas 737 plane to Sydney, named Retro Roo, painted with old style livery

Mum was good when we got there, but two of the last three days of our visit she was in hospital with an unexpected urinary tract infection. Did you know that this is a very common ailment in the elderly? The doctor who spoke to us was very nice and further informed us how this effects elderly people, and to some extent why. I thought I would share it since you may have someone in your family that is in a similar situation.

The doctor said that elderly patients, in general, have ‘less reserves’ in their system, so when this infection establishes itself it often appears that the affected person is confused and dizzy. He went on to explain why this happens. When a person has a UTI, they feel as if they need to relieve themselves more often than normal, thus dehydrating them slightly. This dehydration effects the blood pressure, so that when they stand, they are dizzy, and often fall. The dehydration also effects the brain function, and people can seem slightly more confused or less sharp than normal. If this is someone who already has some dementia, it can seem somewhat normal, since people have good days and bad days with that as well.

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Members of Mum’s gardening group at the assisted living home.

In Mum’s case she had not really noticed the burning with the urination that is often the telltale symptom, and so she fell twice in three days while getting up in the night. We had spent all day with her both days, and she had not commented on symptoms, or seemed much out of the ordinary. In fact, we did not know about the first fall, until the second one happened. How this can happen in an assisted living place is a very long and involved story that has to do with patient consent and how the issue is reported etc. Regardless, it is just plain frustrating.

The second time Mum fell she was wearing her medical alert necklace, which has a motion detector on it. When it detects a fall, they try to contact the person. If the person is unresponsive, they send paramedics, which they did. Mum was unconscious so they took her to the hospital. They ran many tests and immediately established that she had the UTI and started antibiotics intravenously.

Through what can only be viewed as a snafu of ridiculous proportions (internet not working properly, phone not working, hotel not having us listed as registered guests, despite the fact we had been there for 10 nights already), no one was able to get word to us until we appeared at her apartment the following morning, to find her gone, but the dog there alone. The assisted living place was able to update us and that is when I learned of her fall three nights previously. None of the rest of the family even knew about that one, since she was not wearing the medical alert necklace that night (they are uncomfortable for sleeping and Mum had removed it)

Mum was very confused that day and the following day. It wasn’t helped by the fact that hospitals are lousy places to get any rest! We took her home on the second day, and after a night of sleep, and two days of antibiotics in her system, she was like a new person on the last day we saw her. We spent most of the day with her and then left for the airport to fly home to Australia.

qantas-first-sydney

Sometimes trips are good just to break you out of your normal routine

On the long haul flight coming home, heavy fog was predicted for Sydney, so our flight was diverted to Fiji for refuelling in case we had to fly around a bit before landing, or fly to a farther airport. So, 17 hours in the same seat on an airplane was a new record for us, and not one I care to challenge. The fog did not eventuate in Sydney, but farther up the coast.

Yesterday after we arrived home and went to the grocery, unpacked bags and made some dinner, I remarked “I’m sure I have some idea how Mum must feel when she is confused. My brain has the acuity of chocolate pudding.”

Mum is good and we are exchanging emails already. I am deliriously happy, having awakened in my own bed and now enjoying a really good cup of coffee. The brain is less pudding-y and more protoplasm-y this morning.

seeing more clearly

20 Sunday Mar 2016

Posted by in Family, Life, Uncategorized

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It is raining steadily today, having transformed from tiny ice crystals trying to decide whether or not to be snow. It is the last official day of Winter in Ohio, but of course Mother Nature is in charge, so the nasty stuff seems committed to the final hour just after midnight tonight! Robins hop along looking for good nesting material, geese are pairing off and the weather suits the ducks and their frisky pursuits without bother. While the earth is being reborn, the life who gave me life, and has been the repository of family love and knowledge is slipping away.

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Fine weather for ducks

Every trip we have ever made to the Southern Ohio region, since growing up here and leaving it, has been important to us. But none more so than this trip. On our way here a couple of weeks ago, I checked email messages just as we arrived in Melbourne, Australia. There was word from my brother that Mum had been taken to hospital in an unresponsive state but had regained consciousness. It was with that limited information we departed for the USA the following morning. I knew there was nothing more I could do; we were getting there as fast as was possible. Still, I didn’t sleep a wink on the 14 hour flight, plus another 12 hours before arriving at 10pm that night at our destination. An update in LA told us she was awake, but even after a battery of tests the hospital staff was uncertain of the cause. She had two more episodes in hospital, nearly ‘coding’ and with the electric paddles and cart at bedside, ready.

imageWhen we arrived at the hospital they were prepping her for surgery to insert a pacemaker. There was SO much factual as well as contradictory information for us to absorb. I was the only child/next of kin present when the surgeon asked if we knew her medical history. I knew she had not had a history of this kind of thing but I had not seen her since early November and emails and video chats do not carry this kind of information. Things can change. I try to keep up but there is nothing like being there to inform a person. At least I knew who had the answers and could direct the surgeon to my niece who is a nurse and has good knowledge of Mum’s medical history. Eventually we were able to stop the procedure but not before Mum was on the table, draped for surgery! The surgeon, and we, thought it likely that the medicine she had been prescribed after a stent procedure in early January, was probably the cause of the episodes.

We brought her home to the assisted living apartment where she lives and began to try and unravel the cause of a variety of problems ranging from miscommunication between emergency crew to family response. It was so confusing. Every day there was a new piece of the puzzle to fit into the picture, and most days a new complication as well.

Home again with great grandson

Home again with great grandson

Finally we established the cause of most of the issues. It was a small piece of paper called the File of Life that hangs on Mum’s fridge, in case of emergency. It had not been updated in nearly 4 years! So, in her unconscious state, incorrect information was given to the hospital, which was not even the hospital from where her heart specialist works. Incorrect facts layered upon misunderstandings. The situation surely could have gone a devastating way very easily. That dated piece of paper could have been the File of Death.

Despite our best efforts, we have all learned we must be more vigilant and proactive. Mum is not able to advocate for herself any longer. It is a shock and a steep learning curve when these things happen, but they happen to most of us in one form or another. It is obvious to me we were meant to be here exactly when we arrived, and doing exactly as we have done. I can see clearly now, the rain is gone… even if I can’t see all the obstacles in the way.

Ornamental tree in blossom
Early sign of Spring
Robin feather

tidbits from the traveler

23 Wednesday Sep 2015

Posted by in Family, Travel

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Book cover showing Amish style cap

Book cover showing Amish style cap

There are always iconic images I see when we travel, that for one reason or another I am unable to photograph. On Friday when, after 20 hours of airports and flying, we emerged in the busy Dayton, Ohio airport, amidst the frenetic activity sat a very placid young Amish woman. Her attire was the clue–demure traditional floral dress extending to the floor, and white translucent hair cap framing her expressionless face. I dare not intrude to take a photo, but the picture is in my mind. Having come straight from Australia, and having watched The Last Cab to Darwin film on the flight, I could only think, ‘Toto, we’re not in Oz any more’. What a startling contrast, a movie exploring the rougher edges of the Austalian Outback, followed by a piece of America that is steadily disappearing.

Niece and newest member of the family

Niece and newest member of the family

On our second day in Ohio, my niece had organised a family gathering at her house. With a new 2 month old baby, and only a few months in their first house, I thought it was extraordinarily generous of her.

Alter ego Amish farmer
Brother in his machine shop
Brother’s hands showing me photos of the steel parts he has made
Mom and us, ‘crazy uncle’ on the left!
One year old niece

Everyone arrived at the appointed hour, even a strange looking Amish farmer–oh, no, wait– that’s no Amish farmer, that’s my brother! (Are we seeing a theme here?) Apparently he had a sort of bet with a friend that he would sport a beard until a new car he ordered in kit form arrived. (Yes, you read correctly, a kit car that he will build by himself) He is normally clean shaven and said he hates the beard but as long as he’s determined to see through his declaration of not shaving, he has decided to have some fun with it. He drove to Amish country, not far away, and bought an every day authentic hat and appeared at the gathering in his alter ego form! He said he felt he was helping awareness of this lifestyle that is on the wane. Later he told me he has realised his purpose in life– to be the ‘crazy uncle’, every family has one! The role fits him perfectly. But he is also an extremely talented machinist and above is also a photo of him in his shop. He specialises in reconditioning old and antique tractors, literally creating replacement and non-existent parts using a computer program and mathematics and then fabricating the parts from a block of steel. He is also a blacksmith and an all round creative guy.

We’ve had a bit of a drive through the country area, near where my brothers live, and where we grew up and it is lovely in the early autumn. Today is the first day of Autumn here. Most of the trees have not yet begun to change colour, but we can tell the change is near. I’ll leave you with a couple of snaps that remind me of my childhood here. It isn’t quite the same now, but I can see from whence I have come.

Golden Rod weeds and grapevine.

Golden Rod weeds and grapevine.

Thistles in 'fluff' stage.

Thistles in ‘fluff’ stage.

(I’m writing in the little spare time we have– to be continued same time next week!)

It’s not about a present, its about Presence.

09 Friday May 2014

Posted by in Family, Life

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The Graduate

The Graduate

We recently flew to Adelaide to attend the graduation of our daughter upon completion of her Master’s Degree at the University of Adelaide. We had a fantastic few days together, basking in an extended moment of shared achievement.

Mum and Dad, 2001

Mum and Dad, 2001

A few weeks ago when I was organising my photos I came across another graduation. It was just as special but from a different perspective. My 76 year old Dad graduated with his GED (General Education Development), or High School equivalency degree in 2001. I couldn’t be there for that one, but I was proud of him, just the same. Dad had joined the army when he was 17 and had never finished High School. He spent five years in the army during WWII and afterward life moved on and somehow he just never returned for his secondary diploma. I realised many years later this had always bothered him. But it hadn’t kept him from encouraging his children to seek higher education. He was very proud the day he walked across the stage and collected that diploma.

Happy day!

Happy day!

Shared achievement

Shared achievement

Wonderful as that is, he did not do it alone. He had our Mother, helping him study, and beside him on the day. Our parents are often beside us when we achieve great things, if not physically, certainly meta-physically! I am hopeful that our daughter feels our Presence beside her as she reaches goals in her life. (God knows we all hear our Mother’s voices in our heads, often at times when we wish we didn’t!)

Pampered

Pampered

Room for 2 please?Endota Spa, Adelaide

Room for 2 please? Endota Spa, Adelaide

Herbal tea and a decadent snack

Herbal tea and a decadent snack

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day after our graduation celebrations, I received an early Mother’s Day surprise. She had booked us for a Mother/Daughter pedicure session! It was so fun, and so special. I couldn’t help but reflect, when I was growing up we had no such luxuries, which I could have shared with my Mother. But I know, that she knows, she is loved. We still exchange emails every single day. For a few minutes each day, I focus on her, to share my day with her and she shares with me what transpired in her day. Often it includes our tender thoughts and love for each other.

Selfie with Mom's iPad!

Selfie with Mom’s iPad!

Even if we are half a world away from our Mothers, the gift of time creates a Presence that supersedes the need for a present, though, when it is in the form of pampered toes, is very much appreciated!

-Ardys

The Smell of the Wild

16 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by in Animals, Family

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Often, I am inspired by other people’s blog posts. As I have said previously, they are my morning newspaper. Aside from getting a little voyeuristic peek into other people’s lives and interests, I am often reminded of stories from my own life. Recently, while reading the ever-funny Peak Perspective blog, I was reminded of something that typifies some of the interesting times in our family.

skunk wi noseThose of you who have never smelled skunk, just haven’t lived. The famous cartoon skunk, Pepé Le Pew, was great fun. Pepé was a romantic ‘french scallywag’ whose odiferous presence sent everyone running, especially the objects of his affection. The real thing sends everyone running as well, except for my parents it seems. The American skunk is  found in the ‘lower 48’ states of the USA, lower Canada and northern Mexico. Though, apparently, there are other similarly smelly creatures and relatives, like the ‘stink badger’, around the world. The smell of the American striped skunk is enough to make paint peel. It is unearthly. And it is almost permanent, taking superior powers of removal to get rid of it. Ask anyone whose dog has gotten a bit close, or whose car has hit one, when they are crossing the road. P. U.

I can only imagine my Mother’s reaction when we were young and my Dad rescued TWO nests of baby skunks. When he mowed the fields with the tractor, he would occasionally, unknowingly, mow over a nest of rabbits. This time it was skunks. He had seen the mother dead and didn’t know what to do with the babies. Coincidentally he happened across another nest on the same day–mother hit by a car.  He heard they could make good pets, and never one to shirk a challenge, he brought them home, eleven or twelve of them, I think. ‘Hi honey, I’m home…’

the wee babies

the wee babies

We fed them with doll’s bottles of formula, and from memory I think Mom even gave them distemper shots. She was a nurse and had consulted the vet, who wanted nothing to do with them! When they were a few weeks older, the vet explained to my parents how to surgically remove their scent glands, because HELL NO he wasn’t going to do it!! My parents being who they were (adventurous) did the surgery under the carport. The scalpel nicked one of the glands in the process and it smelled. Bad.

When they were very young they didn’t smell much, but as they got a week or two older they quickly developed a distinctive odour, even before their scent glands were fully operational. And after they were fully grown, even without scent glands, there was an odour about them when you got up close.

Several of the skunks survived and some died, and probably would have in the wild anyway; but the survivors were kept as pets. Someone took a pair of them. We kept one, which met with a tragic accident when it was about a year old… Brother accidentally trounced on Rosie when climbing down from the cherry tree. Your basic back yard accident… step out of a tree onto a skunk. We used to walk it on a leash, up the street in our small town. Oh my, the looks we would get! Rosie’s brother, Skippy, got an unplanned release back into the wild after biting my Aunt on the finger. My parents kept it to make sure it was not rabid and then released it. It seems a cruel thing to do, given it had no scent glands any longer, but perhaps it found protection in a clan of smelly kin. But maybe he didn’t smell badly enough to fit in… there’s an interesting thought.

Skunks can be pets, the same way any wild animal can be a pet; but you have to respect them, they are still wild. They don’t take kindly to teasing and quick movements, or shocks. Nowadays, we know it is never a good idea to try and rear wild animals unless you have skills. Often a permit is required, as well… and always, always an understanding spouse!

–Ardys

Why we have eyes

12 Wednesday Feb 2014

Posted by in Family, Health, Inspiration, People

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We have eyes to see, of course.  But what do we see?  As I was going through the grocery store this morning I could see that some of the veggies were a bit passed their prime.  I could see the ‘use by’ date on the dairy products, that there was no fish I particularly fancied, which of the sun-dried tomatoes looked best to me.  I could see the potential danger in the display that hung out in the aisle a little too far, as well as the young woman stocking the shelves, who smiled at me.

It’s true I could have ascertained most of these things if I was blind, or had no eyes.  I could use my other senses, or ask someone to help.  But I would have missed the woman’s smile, regardless.

A few weeks ago my dear 86 year old Mother was recovering from her second eye surgery in four months.  She has glaucoma, a disease that runs in our family. She had been told more than a year previously that the condition was worsening and she would need to consider eye surgery, if she was to retain her vision.  At the time she was caring for our Dad and couldn’t even contemplate the ‘down time’ to have the surgery, nor was it quite called for yet.  But soon after he died, she was told there was no time to waste.  The pressure in her eyes had soared and the doctor said the only option was the surgery.  Imagine, in her grief and fragile state of mind, what it was like to contemplate surgery on her eyes… the windows on her radically changed world.

At first she actually wavered about putting herself through what she knew would be yet another difficult challenge.  And then, suddenly, she changed her mind and decided to go ahead.  The first surgery went fine but the recovery was more difficult than she anticipated.  Three months on and the doctor pronounced her well, and scheduled the surgery for the second eye.  As she was recovering from it, a less invasive procedure than the first one, she wrote me an email (a feat in itself, only a few days out from the surgery).  It was short, but said so much…  “I got this surgery so I could see you when I tell you I love you.”

If there is a better reason for us having eyes, I don’t know it.

Mum and I learning to use her new iPad.

Mum and I learning to use her new iPad.

xx Ardys

the Christmas tree farm

09 Monday Dec 2013

Posted by in Family, Life

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my 11yr old self in a field of young trees

my 11yr old self in a field of young trees

The traditions of Christmas are many and varied, depending on your cultural heritage and family practice.  In our family there was always a fresh cut tree to decorate at Christmas, partly because that was the family business!  Tens of thousands of trees have come from the Corsi Tree Farm in southern Ohio. It was started in 1955 by my parents and grandparents.  My Father and Grandfather were partners in the beginning, Grandpa furnished the land and facilitated sales and Dad performed the manual labour. And, as usual, Grandma and Mom were their invaluable support crew!

In the beginning Dad even tried to grow his own seedlings and I remember as young children on hot, humid summer mornings my brothers and I helping to weed the seed beds, and chasing away the turtle doves that would try to eat the seed.  My Dad’s version of growing trees for Christmas was very labour intensive, because like everything he did, he wanted to produce the very best tree he could.  In the spring new seedlings were planted, in summer the trees would be trimmed, so that they would be more compact and have a nicer shape for decorating. In autumn the weeds needed to be mown to minimise fire hazard, and once the trees had reached harvesting size, in about 7-10 years after planting, they were cut and baled and loaded onto delivery trucks to be taken to the retail lots around the Cincinnati area.

Myself, husband and 3yr old daughter cutting a tree for Mum

Myself, husband and 3yr old daughter cutting a tree for Mum

Dad and Grandpa had entered into a business with very little experience and had to learn as they went.  It was unbelievably hard some years, not just working in the fields during all kinds of weather, but negotiating with businesses who wanted to make money off the hard work of Dad and his crew. One year, when my grandfather had just died and Dad had to shoulder the entire business, the wholesale buyer tried to pay far less than the trees were worth.  Dad, a man of deep principle said he would burn them before he would be dictated to on price that was less than they deserved.  True to his word, he destroyed many of the trees that had already been cut that year.

Dad always said he was a ‘farmer’ and we all know how heartbreaking farming can be.  Some of that heartbreak would spill over into the holiday for us as we watched the toll it took on our Dad. My brothers worked for Dad for many years and it took a toll on them as well.  But we all prevailed.  Eventually my youngest brother (see photo) bought the business and, learning from Dad’s experience, was able to mitigate some of the difficulties.  He has improved some things and put his own stamp onto the business, but it is still farming, and farming is hard work.

Our parents, my brother and myself (2009)

Our parents, my brother and myself (2009)

My niece and brother's partner working in the Christmas barn

My niece and brother’s partner working in the Broken Stone Lodge

Thousands of people in the Cincinnati area will travel to the Corsi Tree Farm this year, not just to cut their own Christmas tree, but to have an old fashioned experience with country music, animals and hospitality.  It is probably a tradition that will disappear one day, but for now it is alive and well in Hamersville, Ohio. This will be the first year since he started the business Dad will not visit the farm at Christmas.  He passed away earlier this year but his legacy lives on.

The tree baler ties trees up for easier transport

The tree baler ties trees up for easier transport

2009 up close to the farm animals, our city girl daughter!

2009 up close to the farm animals, our city girl daughter!

Lived balled and burlap trees in front of the Broken Stone barn

Live balled and burlap trees in front of the Broken Stone Lodge

A field of trees with people looking for their special one

A field of trees with people looking for their special one