An Apple Butter Future

I am not a weather wimp so I walk no matter what it's like outside.

But it's even better when I have a worthy goal in sight, so when the wonderful world of Facebook (thank you, Suzanne Hall) informed me that Goat Busters would have a herd hard at work behind Bark Park today, I set out for Church Hill.

I'd been reading about the public apple orchard planned for behind the dog park up there and today there would be goats munching their way to begin clearing the land.

Dressed for the weather since a wintry mix was forecast and with umbrella in hand, I set out to see some goat-scaping.

Not sure how many people would be willing to brave the cold and wet for the sake of watching omnivores eat, I was pleasantly surprised to find a half dozen people already there when I arrived.

Several were parents with kids, not doubt lured out on this dreary day to entertain, maybe even educate a little, the young 'uns.

Personally, I was there to show my support for public orchards, a cause I've long seen a need for here, wondering why it took so long for Richmond to be ripe (ha!) for such a thing.

Philly has long had public orchards and the idea makes sense to me on so many levels - use of vacant land, means of supplying healthy food to under-served areas, environmental boon of planting more trees- that I was thrilled to see that it was finally happening in the capital city.

Today's goat demonstration was just that since the herd of 47, which included a requisite black sheep, was clearing a fenced-off area not on the site of the proposed orchard but a nearby space.

But there they were in the cold and the rain chomping away at anything and everything they could find, even occasionally standing up, front paws against a tree trunk to reach some higher leaves.

It was funny when one did that because others would notice and head over to wait for a shot at the tree too, munching on kudzu until their turn.

Included in the herd were two dogs who'd been raised since they were puppies with the goats and who, with their white coats, were almost invisible in the group.

John from the Enrichmond Foundation pointed out the flat area behind the dog park where the goats will return in the spring to clear the orchard site, a process expected to take a week.

Thanking me for coming out on this miserable day, I thanked him and the group who'd conceived of this brilliant project, telling him I admired places like Philly who have been dedicated to public orchards for years.

"My wife's from Philadelphia!" he said, lighting up like I'd said the magic words. "Yes, they do a great job with public orchards."

As does Boston. As usual, Richmond's a little late to the party, but here we are finally doing it and I for one am wildly excited about that.

Since it can take up to seven years for apple trees to produce fruit, we need to get as many trees planted as we can and think about additional sites.

Naturally, I vote for Jackson Ward, for a possible second orchard.

Walking back from Chimborazo, the promised wintry mix began pinging off my umbrella.

"Pop Pop, it's hailing!" a little boy with a bucket called out excitedly from the fenced-in front yard of a corner house.

I'm willing to bet the goats continued eating right through the wintry mix.

Like me, they're no weather wimps. We might also have hearty appetites in common.

As for what that one black sheep and I have in common, you can draw your own conclusions.

Jump Starting Myself

Lots of people shop on Black Friday, but I'm not one of them.

And not because of the crowds, either, I just hate shopping any time (except grocery/wine shopping) and avoid it like the plague.

Some people would say this calls my femininity into question, but I'm okay with that.

So instead, I found a friend who wanted to accompany me to Bark Park and we loaded the dogs into my car.

But when I turned the key, all I heard was that sickening sound you get when your battery has abandoned you.

J-Ward is still a ghost town, so I couldn't think of a soul who could give me a jump, but then I remembered that I didn't need anyone to get jumped.

Years ago, I had been given the perfect Valentine's Day gift: one of those multiple-use auto devices that checks your tire pressure, puts air in a flat and jump starts your car.

Score!

I hooked that baby up and before you could say Happy Valentine's Day, I was off to Auto Zone to buy a new battery. It wasn't how I intended to start my day, but I do consider it an accomplishment to have jumped a car myself for the first time in my life.

Seriously.

Lunch was Carytown Burgers and Fries, because nothing says post-Thanksgiving like red meat.

Clearly, we weren't the only ones craving cheeseburgers; the place was non-stop busy the entire time we were there.

After an alternately pleasantly warm/cold and windy hour at the dog park due to dense and fast-moving clouds, we headed home.

I decided it was basil harvesting time. The basil growing in my dining room window since May is over a foot tall and quite full, so I picked enough to make several batches of pesto.

As the food processor pulsed all that basil, it smelled like summer in my kitchen, especially with the sun shining so brightly through the window.

There's nothing like freshly made pesto to enjoy all winter to remind you that it will eventually be warm again.

Don't be fooled, though, that's not optimism talking, just fatalism.

Bark Park in the Fog

I loved how foggy it was this morning when I was out walking and where better to see fog than from above?

The beagle and I had been wanting to check out the new Bark Park at Chimborazo (one of my favorite city spots anyway) and I was guessing the view of the fog would be great from that vantage point.

And it was.

One of the best parts of the new dog park is the winding walk you take to reach it; for those not so inclined, there is parking immediately by the dog park, but you'll miss some great views, fine, old stone staircases and double back paths by doing it that way.

When we arrived, there were three owners and three dogs in the large dog enclosure and none in the small.

My dog is more small than large, but there'd be no one to frolic with over there so we approached the gang, just behind another dog owner.

He got as far as inside the gate with his pooch when two of the other dogs started snarling and attacking him.

The owner was visibly upset and it took too long to get the other dogs off his. He immediately left the park, so the beagle and I decided to head over to the small dog pen just to be safe.

The light was beautiful behind the overcast sky and the fog was just rolling around below.

One of the prettiest views was of the sunlit rooftops in Fulton Bottom from that overlook. The bare-branch trees against the back lit gray sky looking toward the river were almost etching-like.

I'd brought my camera, so I took pictures of Richmond in the fog on a Thanksgiving morning while the dog sniffed his way around the fence, where he discovered some dog poop, the size of which made it clear that a very large dog had been in the wrong enclosure with a very bad owner who did not pick up after his pet. I'm just saying, it was enormous.

We really liked the new dog park and will almost certainly make it a regular destination from now on.

Looking back up the hill from it, you can see very little identifiable, so it's easy to forget where you are and just take in the view and surroundings.

As we headed out, I spotted an almost perfectly heart-shaped rock on the ground.

As I bent down to grab it, I thought how completely inappropriate it was for me to find such a thing.

And while the front was indeed a perfect heart, when I looked at the back of it, there was a big, jagged chunk taken out of it.

Ohhh, I get it.