Apologies to all of you—friends and family—for not being more responsive to your queries recently. All of my devices chose to die a couple weeks ago: a heavily used MacBook Pro, ancient iPhone, and redoubtable Ring. I’ve finally got them all more or less limping along, but they all need to be upgraded or replaced. Since I want to travel for the next few years anyway, I may simply go to burner phones—a lot cheaper and no junk or spam!
All part of crazy times: Water line/plumbing ruptures, tree falls, and roofing damage on utility sheds from three (last night a fourth) back-to-back climate-change storms in three weeks. When I stopped screaming about the resulting chaos in my home and garden, I realized that it was truly wonderful not to get phone calls, emails and alerts—thinking back to how our family’s 17th century New France pioneers lived much longer, healthier lives under very challenging conditions than many in more modern times.
The owls are back on their nest, unfazed by the loss of a major limb on their giant beech tree last week in one of the storms. I happened to see MaOwl come out briefly from her nest to check the damage up high, and the fallen limb on the ground, and then turn right around and nonchalantly go back in, somehow reassured the loss was not too devastating.
Miraculously, after all the disruption of storms and damage from freakish gusts, glorious springtime has also arrived here. One of the best young guests I have ever had is in residence until 1 May. He has finished his doctorate in Pharmacy and is studying for his boards. All day long, he takes breaks and goes out in the garden to walk and clear his head. At least once a week, he sees me out and thanks me for the nature here—I tell him I just tend it, and not very well at that. I overhear him sometimes speaking with his mother on his phone about a plant or letting her listen to a bird call. Very few guests do any of that. Most pull all the drapes closed as soon as they arrive and never look outdoors or walk any further than to their car—with huge televisions like trophy fish they bring in the back seats of their cars, and devices always at hand and in their ears and faces. My current guest will be an exceptionally observant pharmacist, that’s for sure.
I’ve also recently interviewed students for an internship program the University is sponsoring here at Blue Note Garden on natural and ecological gardening. I won’t know what to do with a trained horticulturist on hand. A strong young woman in her senior year seems the best of the applicants so far; she will start in August, if all goes to plan. I think she will be a joy to work with, lodging also in one of the apartments for the school year.
Smoky Mountain Grace (Gracie) will always be with me on travels this summer. On our way to stay with friends, we will detour a bit to get a week of service animal training at an upstate New York monastery since my hearing has become quite bad and hearing aids have proven inadequate and unaffordable. (Thankfully, 18-year-old Coco has a pet sitter in Knoxville she knows well and likes but it still pains me to leave her for long.) We will also join planned protests all the way up north and back south. Third Act is a age 60+ organization, the thinking being that the MAGA white nationalists won’t attack a whole bunch of older people at the same time! (Knoxville’s first Hands Off event will be this Saturday at 2pm downtown.)
My youngest sister is my Executor and she has agreed to assist me with paying urgent bills on the home front from a joint account. She is the only one I’ll try to keep informed, although I will be trying to send lots of postcards. Imagine that: Words on paper with pictures and delivered in the post, unless it is also done away with. Several of you send postcards to me as you travel and I enjoy them very much.
Recently, I had a meeting with a friend and financial advisor who is the son of our longtime financial advisor from the time of the sale of Lanntair Farm. Kenneth and I had always thought of the son as, essentially, a rich young playboy. Well, it turns out he has also become a mature, wise man who asked me: “What do you want to do for your own health and happiness in this beautiful world and too-short life.” I responded: “Wow, I’ve never even thought about living for my own health and happiness.” He said, “Theresa, it’s about time. Let everything else go.”
Not since the Blizzard of ’93—15” snowfall and down to minus 12 degrees F—have we seen such snow pile up in a single day. We were at Lanntair Farm then and recorded 16” and minus 20 degrees F. Hauling water to six horses for several days at that time convinced us to add supply lines and a water heater up at the main barn the following spring.
Beginning at 1am on January 15, 2024, East Tennessee experienced wide variation in accumulations, with 12 inches here at Blue Note Garden and deeper drifts around the many large trees in our woodland garden. It was a big, beautiful, powdery snow that fell slow and steady over the course of 24 hours and then hung around on the ground for a long time afterward with temperatures that never reached above freezing. (As of January 19, the 12 inches is still on the ground, and it is now snowing, again. Has Nature mistaken us for Buffalo?)
Prior notice has been excellent from the authorities; streets and dangerous intersections were salted ahead of time. People were able to get in and out of grocery stores with essentials. Closures were announced in good order, taking many vehicles off the roads and reducing accidents to a minimum. There were relatively few power interruptions. Options for online coursework and remotely working from home are much expanded from previous, pre-pandemic shutdowns during storms.
When she goes out early in the morning to attend to her toilette, Gracie, who has become addicted to beechnuts shed by our numerous beech trees, is horrified to find that all of them have been buried. It doesn’t take her long before she is industriously digging for them, and then not much longer for her to realize the situation is pretty hopeless. Oh, well, thank God for kibble indoors as backup!
The snow distorts scale and draws attention to delicately dusted features, like a tiny (buried) Buddha sheltered from the snow by a copper umbrella and a couple of emergent fern fronds—its own kind of temple:
A blanketing snow means we see a lot more birds come to the balcony feeders that we only mostly hear much of the time: big brown thrashers, juncos, redpolls. They join our much less shy, year-round, stalwart towhees, nuthatches, cardinals, titmice, Carolina wren, chickadee, many types of woodpeckers, many types of sparrows and finches.
It’s a good time of year to leave a few pieces of Christmas cheer in an entrance hallway to look upon whatever the weather brings to the outdoors.
https://bluenotegarden.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/IMG_1718.jpg11431030pepintmhttps://bluenotegarden.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/LogoBlank.pngpepintm2024-01-20 14:22:352025-12-31 17:13:35Let It Snow
Spring 2025
Apologies to all of you—friends and family—for not being more responsive to your queries recently. All of my devices chose to die a couple weeks ago: a heavily used MacBook Pro, ancient iPhone, and redoubtable Ring. I’ve finally got them all more or less limping along, but they all need to be upgraded or replaced. Since I want to travel for the next few years anyway, I may simply go to burner phones—a lot cheaper and no junk or spam!
All part of crazy times: Water line/plumbing ruptures, tree falls, and roofing damage on utility sheds from three (last night a fourth) back-to-back climate-change storms in three weeks. When I stopped screaming about the resulting chaos in my home and garden, I realized that it was truly wonderful not to get phone calls, emails and alerts—thinking back to how our family’s 17th century New France pioneers lived much longer, healthier lives under very challenging conditions than many in more modern times.
The owls are back on their nest, unfazed by the loss of a major limb on their giant beech tree last week in one of the storms. I happened to see MaOwl come out briefly from her nest to check the damage up high, and the fallen limb on the ground, and then turn right around and nonchalantly go back in, somehow reassured the loss was not too devastating.
Miraculously, after all the disruption of storms and damage from freakish gusts, glorious springtime has also arrived here. One of the best young guests I have ever had is in residence until 1 May. He has finished his doctorate in Pharmacy and is studying for his boards. All day long, he takes breaks and goes out in the garden to walk and clear his head. At least once a week, he sees me out and thanks me for the nature here—I tell him I just tend it, and not very well at that. I overhear him sometimes speaking with his mother on his phone about a plant or letting her listen to a bird call. Very few guests do any of that. Most pull all the drapes closed as soon as they arrive and never look outdoors or walk any further than to their car—with huge televisions like trophy fish they bring in the back seats of their cars, and devices always at hand and in their ears and faces. My current guest will be an exceptionally observant pharmacist, that’s for sure.
I’ve also recently interviewed students for an internship program the University is sponsoring here at Blue Note Garden on natural and ecological gardening. I won’t know what to do with a trained horticulturist on hand. A strong young woman in her senior year seems the best of the applicants so far; she will start in August, if all goes to plan. I think she will be a joy to work with, lodging also in one of the apartments for the school year.
Smoky Mountain Grace (Gracie) will always be with me on travels this summer. On our way to stay with friends, we will detour a bit to get a week of service animal training at an upstate New York monastery since my hearing has become quite bad and hearing aids have proven inadequate and unaffordable. (Thankfully, 18-year-old Coco has a pet sitter in Knoxville she knows well and likes but it still pains me to leave her for long.) We will also join planned protests all the way up north and back south. Third Act is a age 60+ organization, the thinking being that the MAGA white nationalists won’t attack a whole bunch of older people at the same time! (Knoxville’s first Hands Off event will be this Saturday at 2pm downtown.)
My youngest sister is my Executor and she has agreed to assist me with paying urgent bills on the home front from a joint account. She is the only one I’ll try to keep informed, although I will be trying to send lots of postcards. Imagine that: Words on paper with pictures and delivered in the post, unless it is also done away with. Several of you send postcards to me as you travel and I enjoy them very much.
Recently, I had a meeting with a friend and financial advisor who is the son of our longtime financial advisor from the time of the sale of Lanntair Farm. Kenneth and I had always thought of the son as, essentially, a rich young playboy. Well, it turns out he has also become a mature, wise man who asked me: “What do you want to do for your own health and happiness in this beautiful world and too-short life.” I responded: “Wow, I’ve never even thought about living for my own health and happiness.” He said, “Theresa, it’s about time. Let everything else go.”
Done. So now: Call to action!
Theresa, Gracie and Coco Chanel
Let It Snow
Not since the Blizzard of ’93—15” snowfall and down to minus 12 degrees F—have we seen such snow pile up in a single day. We were at Lanntair Farm then and recorded 16” and minus 20 degrees F. Hauling water to six horses for several days at that time convinced us to add supply lines and a water heater up at the main barn the following spring.
Beginning at 1am on January 15, 2024, East Tennessee experienced wide variation in accumulations, with 12 inches here at Blue Note Garden and deeper drifts around the many large trees in our woodland garden. It was a big, beautiful, powdery snow that fell slow and steady over the course of 24 hours and then hung around on the ground for a long time afterward with temperatures that never reached above freezing. (As of January 19, the 12 inches is still on the ground, and it is now snowing, again. Has Nature mistaken us for Buffalo?)
Prior notice has been excellent from the authorities; streets and dangerous intersections were salted ahead of time. People were able to get in and out of grocery stores with essentials. Closures were announced in good order, taking many vehicles off the roads and reducing accidents to a minimum. There were relatively few power interruptions. Options for online coursework and remotely working from home are much expanded from previous, pre-pandemic shutdowns during storms.
When she goes out early in the morning to attend to her toilette, Gracie, who has become addicted to beechnuts shed by our numerous beech trees, is horrified to find that all of them have been buried. It doesn’t take her long before she is industriously digging for them, and then not much longer for her to realize the situation is pretty hopeless. Oh, well, thank God for kibble indoors as backup!
The snow distorts scale and draws attention to delicately dusted features, like a tiny (buried) Buddha sheltered from the snow by a copper umbrella and a couple of emergent fern fronds—its own kind of temple:
A blanketing snow means we see a lot more birds come to the balcony feeders that we only mostly hear much of the time: big brown thrashers, juncos, redpolls. They join our much less shy, year-round, stalwart towhees, nuthatches, cardinals, titmice, Carolina wren, chickadee, many types of woodpeckers, many types of sparrows and finches.
Words don’t do justice to images:
It’s a good time of year to leave a few pieces of Christmas cheer in an entrance hallway to look upon whatever the weather brings to the outdoors.