Oops, we had an “about” page that said mostly “you could put an about page here”. So what’s this about? It’s a blog for all the folks we left behind when we moved from Florida to Oregon back in 1999, and some others scattered around the country, plus the local ones who want to check up and see whether I’ve bothered to post anything. It’s John, Penelope and Logan Genevieve on line, but in case you’re confused that’s not the order we’re in up in that picture!

What gets posted is mostly aimed at what’s of interest to the Grandma’s, but sometimes others too — once in a while I stumble on to my soap box, or John remembers he can post here. At least once Logan dictated a post too. We’re busy as all get out. John works full time at a day job, runs an internet business (Chocolate Alchemy) and deals with the majority of the physical part of the farm. I drive Logan to Waldorf school in Eugene and am active in the school, as well as keeping up with my medical appointments there.

We haven’t watched TV since we left Florida, and videos come every two or three months for John or Logan. I don’t remember the last one I watched — I think Franklyn’s Christmas which Logan chose may have been it. We live in rural Oregon on acreage, with Bees, Geese, Hens, Goats and Sheep. Plus the house pets. And we drive a lot. Life is full.

The name “Dreams and Bones” comes from the song, quoted up in the header — the full song is below:

Garden Song
by David Mallett

CHORUS:
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
Gonna mulch it deep and low
Gonna make it fertile ground

Inch by inch, row by row
Please bless these seeds I sow
Please keep them safe below
‘Till the rain comes tumbling down

Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones
We are made of dreams and bones
Need a place to call my own
‘Cause the time is close at hand

Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature’s chain
Till my body and my brain
Tell the music of the land

CHORUS

Plant your rows straight and long
Season with a prayer and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her loving care

CHORUS

Old crow watching from a tree
He’s got his hungry eye on me
In my garden I’m as free
As that feathered thief up there

CHORUS