The Hunter’s Moon

Ah, to be steeped in rural wisdom and the ancient ways, waxing on about the significance of the Hunter’s Moon last night… but, alas, I cannot. But it did serve up a beautiful light over the dinner table that we shared with friends. We dined on a dish of roast pork cooked in fresh milk, mashed potatoes, and newly fermented kraut. With a couple of beers and a glass of wine to wash the meal down, we capped a rather full day on the farm. A day that began with helping these friends with an improvised bull-castration, ended with them helping stretch the final fabric on the ends of our greenhouse.

Our guests headed home after dinner, while we went upstairs to our bed, each guided by the Old Man and his nightlight on our respective journeys.

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Reading this weekend: Puck of Pook’s Hill by Kipling, a favorite since I was a kid.