What's in a name?

Yes, it’s pretty exciting to finally have the swimming pool I’ve always dreamed of.  Oops.  I’m not allowed to talk about that.

The farm, whatever we end up calling it, is being utterly transformed from the charming old place I first visited nearly two years ago.

The beginnings of an orchard have been planted, deer fencing (my version, made from fishing line) has been installed in several places, garden plots are dug, that nasty old house with the pink and black S&M room (ask me about this privately… :D) has finally disappeared, the RV has been moved to the back of Bruce’s workshop, by the hops, and heavy machinery and men in orange slickers rule the land.

So while the guys beat up and abuse the land with their trucks, tractors, diggers, and concrete pumpers, busy creating something sleek and modern, my attention is focused on saving some of the charming old structures and making them into something useful and gorgeous. 

I confess, I’ve fallen in love with the old garden shed.  It’s leaning a bit, and most of the roof has blown away, and it’s full of spiders and slugs… but it definitely has potential.  I have had to chain myself to the building on occasion to prevent Bruce, not having what you would call a romantic soul, from setting fire to it.  But already the little garden patch beside it has produced a fair amount of tomatoes, Swiss chard, lovage, and fabulous herbs.  So I’m keeping it!  Next season, it will get a roof and some bracing to keep it standing for a few more years… a fun and handy (and very romantic) little place to keep all my gardening supplies and tools.

For now, there’s much to be done to save the other little Cottage, which is going to become my studio and possibly a small, quaint guest house.  More about that in a future posting! 

Back to the name of our place:  Bufflehead Pond.  A very nice name, especially since all the views from the main part of the house will be toward the pond and its delightful denizens.  But this hardly conjures up the “reality show” drama of the Attack Blackberries that make me look like I’ve been in a horrible cat fight, or the Fireweed that hides under the berries and gives me hives, or the wild Holly Tree behind the Cottage that sends out long stickery branches to start new baby trees in a 6-7 foot radius, or the spiny Thistles that sprout everywhere, 4-5 feet tall, snagging pants and jackets, or the Stinging Nettles that one won’t discover until much too late, after you realize your entire arm has burst into flames.  And dare I mention the English Ivy that some idiot planted against the cottage wall? 

The name “Bufflehead Pond” conjures peace and serenity, a rocking chair on the old porch, a lazy old dog, and frogs croaking in the twilight.  Frankly, folks, I really think we should name the farm something much more honest and fitting… perhaps something more like “Tangleweed Ranch.”  

Cheers!  Dee