written by

Drausin Wulsin

posted on

January 19, 2019


Landis built this 10 foot tall snowman, with son Cameron.

How inspiring it is to have a two year old son. The two year old inspires the father to build a snowman that requires a ladder to complete. Isn't it great how one's heart responds to the eagerness of the child?

Here Cameron is at the window, intently studying those who go by. 

Susan had taken a picture of the Ohio Supreme Court, when we were there last week. Here it is. Quite an elevated place in which to discern the fine points of  justice. 

If you have not heard, the Winter Market at Hyde Park has been cancelled for tomorrow, Sunday the 20th, due to inclement weather. If any of you would like a delivery mid-week, instead, we can try to accommodate that, so let us know. In the meantime, be careful of slick roads and sub-zero temperatures.

Last month a photographer from Denver, Colorado came to the farm to shoot a video of our new bale-unroller in action. On this bitter cold day, I was asked to explain why we like this piece of equipment and how it fits into our operation. Here is the result, for your curiousity.

More to the point, below are lamb shanks, so easy and delicious to cook during a winter's chill. Low and slow -- 200 degrees for ten hours, with chicken broth, wine, and herbs of choice. 

May a child's eagerness always inspire us to new heights.

More from the blog

Sacred Place

It is a privilege to know a sacred place, as I feel I do. In some ways, it seems sacred places are supposed to be scarce and remote, like Stonehenge, Chartres Cathedral, the Taj Mahal, or abandoned Pueblo dwellings. Large landscapes, like the desert, ocean, or mountain ranges feel imbued with the divine. Alaska, the Amazon, and the Serengeti invite a sense of awe. One travels to such places, in pilgrimage. And sometimes such places reorganize the pilgrim's sense of order, inviting disorder or change, that can be both painful and uplifting.

Big Muddy

Here is the Lower Mississippi River, 45 feet below normal pool. Over Thanksgiving, Susan and I shoehorned ourselves onto a cruise ship to learn about the lower Mississippi and its bayou. We started in Memphis and ended up in New Orleans, with stops along the way to explore river towns. This river is the third longest on the planet, providing drainage to 40% of North America. It has historically deposited silt yearly in its floodplains, producing topsoil 120 feet deep, making these soils some of the richest in the world. Vast wetland forests grew beside its banks, of cypress, oaks, and sycamores, populated by a rich array of black bears, deer, bobcats, alligators, and aquatic life. This was the legendary bayou.

Streams & Souls

Streams and souls seem to share character. They are life-giving, they are coveted, they can be impeded, they can be channelized, they can be overwhelmed, they flood, they dry up, they flow downhill, they are a force of both change and constancy, they lie at the center of a community, they will not be denied, and because of this great complexity, they attract periodic resistance. So, it seems that streams may serve as a metaphor for the journey of the soul.