mid July... momentary respite and time to reflect

Ой петре, петре-іване... а вже твоя петрівка ж минає.... а вже твоя петрівка ж минає... половина літечка ж минає...

This time of year, this song always comes back into my consciousness.

It's a fragment of a Ukrainian folksong that starts by referring to the feasts of St. Peter and St. John* and their passing, a signal to the passing of the midsummer feastdays; it goes on to be about a young man going off to sadle the horse, to go court his love, (presumably for a fall wedding...). The wistful melody perfectly reflects the embedded trope of summer turning to fall and like all timeless nuggets of folksongs, perfectly evokes the feeling of this time of year. The song starts to come to me this time of year, as if on the winds, or in the rustle of the ripening grasses. Perhaps these old songs, not only echo or reflect the doings of nature, but are in fact invoking them... As the weather has cooled considerably here in the Wilno hills of the Ottawa Valley, and a strong breeze and occasional rain has been with us for days, the wistfulness and slowness of the summer has settled in. We are past the striving push of early summer, the rush to get the gardens in, the need to fight the blackflies and mosquitoes (just let me get those seeds planted & watered!), the need to get it all done before gathering for Kupalo, midsummer rituals.

* (feast of Ivan-Kupalo near the solstice is generally regarded as midsummer, followed by feast of St. Peter and Paul closely after)

This year felt especially intense for me as I had missed all the springtime in the gardens and had to try and make up for lost time, squeezing two to three months of gardening into bits of June, between end of school year workdays, family weddings, kids camp, and garden tour (first time!). I attended two midsummer ceremonies: our usual small & beautiful morning solstice ritual at the farm, and a big Slavic Kuapalo weekend community gathering (hosted by the Belarusian diaspora). I lacked sleep. ;)

Still there was more to plant and tend to, weeds to tame (rescue the carrot seedlings!), herbs to harvest, and fencing to fix, but with beans trellised and tomatoes staked, I have never felt more ahead of the game (dare I say?! certainly risky to lay this claim, what July foolishness ha!).

Don't want to tempt the gods, but can you relate? The whole day while fixing the tomato stakes and trellis system, (finally liberating mounds of bright blue bailer twine to banish them from my sight), carefully tying each one up, I couldn't help but chuckle, catching myself thinking that something about getting that one task finally fully done, properly, taming the chaos of tomatoes vining everywhere & things collapsing, made me feel like so on top of my life (which I'm not ;))

The garden has a long way to go before there would ever be a day I could go in there and not have anything "to do", or something that needed attention, but there is a feeling of things being manageable and under control, enough to stave off immediate panic. And that's pretty good!

A pause, a temporary respite in the movement and spilling over that is summer...

Some time to harvest a bouquet of flowers, to take a walk with a neighbour, time to sit with a song...

In the traditional rural peasant rhythm, this pause would be but a momentary blip.

In Ukraine, after the solstice, and the feastday of Peter & Paul, the grain harvest would begin. When it was done by hand, everyone would be out tending to this big shared labour, and many more fieldchores, all summer long. Hot long days. The grain harvest is no longer done by hand in Ukraine, nor almost anywhere, but most people in villages, or on cottage garden plots are tending their gardens by hand all season long. Less work in tandem, less singing perhaps, but nevertheless connected to the land, and food.

In Canada, it's a pretty different scene most of the time, but there are sweet glimpses and tremors of such living, and anyway some of us are fortunate enough to wake early and go out scything in the dew; then we taste some sweetness of good dancing labours.

Well, I'm hoping there's time to write some more here, and start sharing about my trip, what I've been up to, and what's on the horizon.

What I've been up to most very very recently- working on plaiting up some cattail and making a basket in preparation for a workshop this fall in Lanark county. (Still working on it and hope to have something finished to show by next week) Thanks to Melissa Cornacchia of @honeybeehomestead for organising. We've partnered to host a straw basket workshop with the Lanark Basketry Museum in September and it's already sold out, so I look forward to offering that again another time. I'll also be offering a straw "corn" dollies workshop, in addition to the cattail weaving, all connected to the Basketry museum, but at different locations, to be announced soon (for those interested in those classes check out: https://www.lanarkhighlandsbasketrymuseum.ca/straw)

inspired by drawings in a german straw crafts book - a simple wheat straw basket

In my ongoing attempt to tame the craft chaos in my life ;) I've also been cleaning straw from last year's wheat harvest over at our neighbours' farm in the next village: Seed and Stone Farmstead. Last August, right at Lammas time, I was fortunate to be able to come last minute to watch the threshing of the harvest in a big ol' antique threshing machine, and gather up some sheaves that fell off the wagon. The wheat was cut by an antique Mennonite horsedrawn machine that cuts and lays the corn neatly, thereby keeping everything nicely intact for bundling by hand. The sheaves were tied and piled high on a wagon that ferried everything up to the threshing spot by the woods. Sheaves tossed into the mouth of the machine, grain spilling out into sacks, torn up straw spat out the back into a huge pile. I was fortunate some sheaves were spared this fate by falling off the wagon, and came home with me in myc ar. Their gorgeous rusty red heads make beautiful bundles and corn dollies. (Very grateful for additional material to work with- my humble harvest from my gardens is small and this year, was actually very poor...)

Cleaning and sorting straw takes a long time... so squeezing in bits here and there; hands are never idle around here.

When I do take a break, I've been dipping in to my latest addition to my straw craft library: Straw Plaiting, a new book from the UK all about the heritage craft, focusing a lot on the hat industry and plaiting history.(support local bookshops, I was able to order through Book City in Toronto :)

Well it seems that what I've been up to most recently also partly covers what's on the horizon :)

Less recently now, a few weeks back, on the heels of my brother's wedding, I was able to spend some time with the kids and parents at a Plast camp for families with toddlers (табір пташата), showing them around the camp garden. The theme of the camp this year was gardening, so the kids came to help water, plant seeds, and check out what was already growing. Was truly wonderful, and so fun to see them munching on sorrel and getting excited about the plants.

they had the tiniest watering cans and they loved running to the rain barrel to fill them up :)

The garden was beaming, especially the field poppies, which this year came up in full force and just looked stunning, peaking during the time of the camp. I couldn't have been more delighted with the timing, and the flowers brought so much joy to the parents and kids alike.

Started this garden 15 years ago at the Plast camp in Grafton, ON and it's finally really coming into its own.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

I've been back in Ontario for almost two months now, a month since solstice...

Half of summer gone by... and many moments to share.

with my neighbour Ojy, my co-gardener and friend on the farm, with our solstice wreaths

folks at the farm and visiting in-laws from Nepal, after our morning solstice ceremony

Solstice at Morninglory Farm is a beautiful tradition of gathering in circle to greet the dawning of the special day around the fire. For me, solstice has always been associated with the Slavic feast of Kupalo (growing up we called it Ivana-Kupala) and evening singing and processions to the waters with wreaths, jumping over the bonfire, and staying up late into the dawning hour. It's one of my most beloved and personally meaningful holidays, and I have very much missed it the last couple of years. Before that, for many years I was very fortunate to be able to join Belarusian friends for a traditional Kupalo (Ukrainian) /Kupalle (Belarusian) with all the familiar rituals and songs at their homestead in Northumberland County.

This year I finally got the chance to join the large Belarusian community event at their campground near Parry Sound with a lot of the same folks.

The weather was perfect, and the moon rising huge and beautiful just as we were swimming in the river was the pinnacle of a very sweet time.

(I am so grateful for the Belarusian diaspora community in Toronto, (and abroad), in general, for keeping so much beauty and culture alive. I have so much admiration and am so inspired by them! but that is a whole other post ;)

I am so grateful for Javarovy Ludzi and the songs they keep alive, and for creating this absolutely magical special moment for the letting go of our wreaths into the river.! It was so deeply rich, such a pure experience of being, I was moved to be right in the water amongst the wreaths carrying lights and each of our destinies. And I won't soon forget that moment.

Ой петре, петре-іване... а вже твоя петрівка ж минає....

St. John's has passed, and Peter's too... now we turn towards the harvest and so it seems I've come full circle with my recollections...

Next I am set on sharing something from my {very meaningful} extended trip to Europe this spring.

(Where I learned to make things with cattails! (among other things)) Stay tuned <3

thanks for reading along

I started preparing the cattails for weaving on solstice day, and just started plaiting it for a basket this week.