98 ~ And the winners are…
Our first Bird in the Bush raffle was both fun and quite successful. Thanks so much to all who participated.
And now to announce the winners of Tuesday night’s drawing…
Grand Prize #1: A choice of either lunch here at the farmstead, or this alliteration: a two-hour tour for two of Taliesin. The winner is: Mr. Bunny Cake! Aka, Mike, a good friend who lives with his wife Becky on their own farmstead near Fennimore, WI. Mike also lives close with the land – he’s both an excellent vegetable gardener and deer hunter (pretty much the only meat they consume is venison killed and butchered by Mike). “Mr. Bunny Cake” got his nickname from co-workers, in response to Mike’s kindly habit of baking rabbit-shaped cakes to bring to work each Easter.
Grand Prize #2: Whichever of the two choices above that Mr. Bunny Cake doesn’t take. And the winner is: Suzan McV! I met Suzan and her partner Richard at a writing workshop, and they subsequently became my first housemates here at the farm, back in 2015. It was wonderful having them here. Suzan is part Cherokee, and I have fond memories of her growing tobacco in the garden for her offerings, grown close enough to chat with the corn I grew for my offerings of cornmeal.
Other prize winners:
Three smoked trout and the “yin & yang” package of jars of salsa and maple syrup.
Both won by my fine friends Steve & Aimee of Mt. Horeb. I first met Steve when he was volunteering at the library – a good man.
Packages of dried morels and dried puffball mushroom.
Winner: My neighbors Greg & Linda, who have gifted me a Christmas tree cut from their property each December for the last several years.
The book Asia’s Wildlife: A Journey to the Forests of Hope.
Winner: Tom P. and his family, of Madison. Tom and my late older brother Jack met as undergrads at UW-Eau Claire in the Holocene, and the rest, as they say, is history. They became bandmates for years (Tom on bass, Jack on drums – together, holding down the rhythm) and friends forever. Tom is still something of an honorary brother to me. He once uttered something I still chuckle over every time I recall it. Tom is a big, burley, older (to me) fellow, and when I was in my teens he and I went squirrel hunting together out near Cross Plains. As we started toward the trees with our .22s, Tom turned to me and said, in all seriousness, “Gree-graa [Jack’s nickname for me], let’s be clear on one thing: if you shoot me, even accidentally, I will return the fire.” Got it.
And now Tom, I’m glad to be able to return the fire of your friendship with this beautiful book!
Four bars of organic Swiss chocolate (donated by Corina).
Winner: Gordon Greene, dear friend and the abbot of the Chosei Zen Dojo near Spring Green. Interestingly, just last Sunday, two days before the raffle drawing, I finished an intensive, 3-day meditation retreat (sesshin) at the dojo, hosted by Gordon and his wife Pat, during which they fed us spectacularly. Somehow the stars feel aligned to now return something richly delicious to them.
Thanks again to all the entrants – and to all of you, dear readers. Gary, a wonderful writer in Duluth, MN (www.garyboelhower.com), sent me a sublime poem along with his check for raffle entries. With his permission I’m sharing it here – making us all winners of a sort of the raffle. Enjoy, and blessings to all.
I AM THIS GARDEN
by Gary Boelhower
I am this unruly garden now
I have been and I will be
sprawling escaping the fences
sending out runners and creepers
shoots forming at the nodes.
Dropping small seeds without notice
or expectation in the soft waiting soil.
I am both green and rusting
growth and falter
wilt rot ruin and yes the glorious blossom
and the delectable fruit.
I am the sweet silence under the warm skin.
I am emerald factories making sugar and song.
I am heat passion and the slurry of change.
I delight in the dew and the dawn
and in all things that dangle and shine
twist and circle and climb.
I want to be tender to be eaten to serve.
I want my seeds to go on
being planted and planted for generations of promise.
I am row by row and scramble ramble and weeds.
I am pleasure discipline felicity
Un-nameable nodules tendrils tubers
and all my wild roots wander and weave
and listen to the whispers in the dark fertile loam.