a man and his hoe

every day is a good day

Category: Reflections

  • The Hush of Snow


    The pond is a sheet of snow today. The hush of a snowy day is so calming. With no wind, the soft, gentle flakes pile up everywhere. Vines become white ribbons chasing phantom shapes through the air. Dried flower stalks turn into cotton puffs.




    Daffodils droop their yellow heads in the snow, hoping for sunny days.


    The dogs run all day. Fluffy snow on a not too cold day is their idea of a perfect playground. Tonight they are fast asleep, dreaming of more snow.



    The chickens aren’t that fond of the snow. The ducks don’t mind. As long as their pool doesn’t freeze, and it won’t with the heater at the bottom of their pool, they paddle all day.

  • Snow Is a Gift


    Heavy snow in the morning calls for a change of plans. I’m staying put today. Not going anywhere. I’m not one to rush around, not like I used to when I was young. Mad dashes to the subway, frantic runs to catch the next train, snowy days like today make the past seem like distant dreams. Why was ever in such a rush?

    I remember one frantic Christmas/New Year break when I was thirteen, rushing with my older siblings and fellow boarding school classmates, seven in all, none of us older than 16, suitcases in hand, dashing through downtown Tokyo out to Haneda airport, and when we couldn’t get on a standby ticket, racing back into Tokyo to wedge ourselves onto a standing room only bullet train for three hours as far as Osaka, as that is as far as the bullet trains went back then, and onto a standing room only overnight train from there, stuck in the decks between the rail cars, clickety-clack, all through the night to distant home.



    The snow is too deep for the chickens. They aren’t venturing out. A big bowl of steamed rice is what they want. I usually cook organic brown rice, but a delivery mixup left me with a 25 pound bag of organic white basmati rice. That taught me to always check the package labels on orders before hauling them home. Surprising how much you still need to learn after living so many decades. At some point you’d think you’d have learned everything there is to learn.

    The chickens don’t mind. They scarf it down by the mouthful. This is bowl two this morning. They’ll devour a few more bowls today before dusk. Yes, there is a mad man who cooks organic rice for his chickens. My rice cooker will do up to five cups of rice at a time. It takes the chickens a few minutes to down that much rice.



    The ducks devour steamed rice too, though this morning they are content to waddle about in their infinity pool, nibbling at the snow on the landing, and staring at the white, snowy woods.


    The furthest I’m venturing today is out to the cabin to make tofu. I have an order to fulfill. On a quiet, snowy day, making tofu is a good thing to do.



  • A Question No More


    Until a short time ago the question was, “Will it snow this winter?” That question is now answered. It snowed this winter, a soft, gentle, beautiful snow. I can go ponder other things.


    Many of the better things in life are the unplanned things that come along and keep us company, a stray cat, a sad dog that tells us we are its owner. In all the decades I’ve lived, I never once thought of wanting to make kefir. It’s a nearly daily ritual now. Such a simple ritual, just a few minutes of my time in the morning, and yet it’s so satisfying.


    Kefir is a food that makes itself. The only thing I need to do is run it through a sieve until a tablespoon of the kefir grains are left.


    I pour the strained kefir into little cups for breakfast.


    The kefir grains I stir into a glass of milk and set the glass on the counter next to the happy porcelain cat, where it sits until tomorrow morning. All day and through the night, the kefir grains transform the milk into more kefir without me needing to do a thing. As I said, it makes itself.


    Making kefir is so simple, when I see it for sale in the store, I think, There’s a con. Why would anyone buy something that makes itself?

  • Daffodil Yellow


    The forecast is for colder weather with snowflakes, but the daffodils pay no heed. They’re opening their bright yellow petals despite the nippy air.



    The chickens love any day I make tofu. They pace back and forth by the cabin, waiting for me to appear with oakara おから, the soybean mash created during the process of making tofu. They go nuts if I have some spare tofu.

  • Worth Waking Up


    Yesterday morning was one of those mornings you were glad you opened your eyes again. The morning sky was a grand fireworks display.



    The mild winter has me dreaming of fresh greens, and it’s time to get seedlings ready. Yesterday it was komatsuna 小松菜 and spinach seeds that I planted. Compared to the tiny komatsuna seeds, spinach seeds are easy to grasp and plant. There is something pleasing about the feel of spinach seeds, not perfectly round like many seeds, the slightly lumpy, bumpy spinach seeds



    Delivering tofu to the Anacortes Food Co-op on Mondays, has become a routine. For those of you in Anacortes, Monday evening is your chance of buying tofu made that day. I usually make my deliveries between three and four in the afternoon. This time of year it’s a chance to see which fields the swans are grazing, and on clear days, soak in the views of Mount Baker.