Be it Ever So Humble: From Bright Blue Waterfalls to the Grey Girls and the Brown Boys

Posted on April 20, 2025 by gretchenwing

To be clear, these are the Brown Boys:

That’s Fino on the left, Raj on the right. They’re all that remains of the small herd that’s resided at Tierreich Farm in Durham, NC–a.k.a., the place where I was born & raised–for the last 60+ years.

In fact, “they” aren’t even “they” any more. Since I took that photo last month, Fino passed away, at 28. That’s a good age for a horse. Amazingly, surviving Brown Boy Raj is still kickin’ at AGE 37.

Who would’ve guessed such a nondescript, scrawny little guy could endure into what are usually known as Donkey’s Years?

Especially since Stevie, World’s Cutest Ass, passed away last fall–at 37!

My point is, you DON’T expect superlatives from scrawny little horses. Nor from Durham, North Carolina. It’s a humble kind of place. This was especially noticeable after flying there directly from our sojourn amidst the bright blue waterfalls of La Huasteca, in Mexico.

The Mate and I go back to visit our old lives (the place where we met in 1977 and fell in love a couple of years later) every March. To see my Amazing Mom…

…my equally Amazing Dad…

…seen here doing his 3 laps with his walker & The Mate. Dad’s almost 95.

Of course if you’ve been following Wing’s World long enough, you also know the story of our Tarheel Pilgrimage to watch the ACC Tournament…so I won’t repeat it here. I’ll just show what we crazy Heels fans eat while we cheer:

NC-style BBQ, hushpuppies, slaw, greens, okra…you get the picture!

Oh, and since the semi-finals (which Carolina made it to before falling to ~~That Team That Shall Not Be Named~~ Duke) were on Pi Day…

But I realize I haven’t explained about the Grey Girls. Here they are, resting up with Dad after his walk.

That’s Bela on the left, Senta on the right. Norwegian Elkhounds, with a German-American.

During our 9 days in NC, The Mate and I helped romp the Grey Girls, patted the Brown Boys, cheered for the Heels, and hung out with my folks, eating (humble) pie.

Including this: what you get when you use purple potatoes for a Shepherd’s Pie!

Note: those potholders, above, came from La Huasteca. Using them in my mom’s kitchen felt surreal, like…”Where we really just there?”

Granted, the NC woods are not THAT, especially before spring takes hold. But they hold a special, humble grip on my heart.

I’m undyingly grateful for our viaje Mexicano. But even more so to be able to come “home,” year after year, to this.

Extra note: you may have noticed many of these photos are weirdly small. WordPress suddenly started doing this, and none of the articles I’ve read to fix it have helped. If you understand WordPress and think you can help me keep my photos large, please email me at gretchen.wing@gmail.com.

Like I said: humble. Ain’t too proud to beg.

Next time: back in NC, again????!!

Donkeys’ Years: Measuring a Life in Farm Animals

Posted on October 16, 2024 by gretchenwing

Stevie passed away last week, at the age of 37, in his rural North Carolina home. You may remember Stevie from various posts over the years:

I missed the chance to say goodbye, arriving at my folks’ farm a week too late. Son Two, who happened to be visiting his grandparents then, did get that chance.

Son 2 (and Son 1) go way back w/ Stevie; this is 11 years ago.

For the first time in decades, there were no furry ears to cuddle–usually my first stop after dropping my bags upstairs.

When my folks bought this land way back in 1959, my German father named their little farm Tierreich, which translates to Kingdom (or Realm) of the Animals. They proceeded to fill the place up with critters, and it’s remained that way for 65 years.

Horses. Goats. Barn cats. Chickens, geese, ducks, guinea fowl. A couple of bottle-fed deer (from the research herd at Duke). Somebody’s sheep who got left here. One tempermental llama, whom only my dad liked.

Not pictured: Salvador Dalai Llama. But here’s Hank the goat

Once or twice we raised an animal to eat–Chuck the steer, Sir Toby the pig–but my father hated killing and butchering so much that we abandoned that path.

LOTS OF CRITTERS. And that was just the barnyard. In the house you’d find: more cats. Canaries, budgies, finches. Guinea pigs, rabbits, gerbils, hamsters, tropical fish, a flying squirrel, and a hedgehog. And roaming between house & yard…two to four Norwegian Elkhounds.

…like Erda, in her youth. Joined by an occasional Standard Poodle.

They ran the place. If you look at the photo wall in my folks’ family room, you’ll see that most pictures include animals. They still run the place.

But there are fewer of them every time I come home. Gone are Stevie’s various goat buddies…

…and soon, all too soon, Erda the Ancient Elkhound will be making her own departure.

Among the larger animals on the farm, that will leave two smaller, younger elkhounds, and two elderly horses: Trefino, nearly 28…

Seen here with my Amazing Mom, waiting for a new set of shoes (probably his last)

…and the little Arab, Raj, who Mom thinks is even older than Stevie–maybe 38!

I’m not at all sure that either of these gentle old equines will be here by my next visit, next spring–an arresting thought.

On my walk in the autumnal woods today, I was musing about how that will feel, when I saw this double ruin: old broken springhouse on the left, old broken oak on the right:

Man-made or Nature-made, everything falls to ruin eventually. Where do beloved pets and farm animals fit in this spectrum? Of nature, yet shaped by humans, all–our dear Stevie, old Erda, old Fino and oldest Raj–are part oak, part springhouse.

And may they all rest in peace for the peace (and joy, and comfort, and rides, and laughs, and hair) they have given.

Road Trip VI, Final Installment: One Day None Of This Will Be Yours

Posted on March 14, 2016 by gretchenwing

This will be the final post of Road Trip VI; after this, Wing’s World stops being a travel blog and morphs back into its un-pigeon-holeable self. Unlike past years, when I’d now be accompanying The Mate on the drive back across country, vowing never again to eat that much fried chicken and BBQ (until next year), I am actually home already, courtesy of Delta Airlines. Red Rover and The Mate are still faithfully road-tripping back to me, but my bakery is opening early this year under new management, and I opted to fly home early.

But I’m still gone to Carolina in my mind. Because the weather was so sweetly springy last week (for once), I spent a lot of time wandering around the grubby little farm I grew up on. In between cuddling Stevie, the World’s Cutest Donkey, I took some time to meditate on this fact: my family’s farm is slipping away…but not the way you might think.

Even cuter in real life!

My parents jump-started Carolina Friends School by donating land. That’s why I grew up next to CFS, and why I refer to it as “My Sister the School.” And since my real sisters and I have moved away and feel no desire to return to the South, our parents have decided that CFS will inherit all the rest–the pastures, the barn, the garden, the pond, and the house I grew up in. And, being wise people, they have already begun the bequest.

Tierreich Pond: Now With Extra Turtles!

Slowly but surely, my sister the school is taking over the farm. Where dense piney woods once separated the pastures from the school buildings on the other side of the creek, now the construction of new athletic fields and a road to a future performing arts building have left only a handful of trees to delineate the old from the new.

Follow the red clay road!

It’s changed my whole mental geography. There’s no longer a “here” and a “there.” Now it’s “old” and “new,” but new gets newer every year I visit. My little sister is moving in.

I hear the horses are learning to appreciate baseball.

Don’t get me wrong–I think this is great. It’s just weird. I know I’m lucky to have hung onto my childhood geography for over five decades. So few people get to do that! And now, I’m even luckier: rather than watch the Old Home Place fall into disrepair, I get to see it transformed, into classrooms or Quaker conference facilities, or whatever the CFS Board decides.

Dormitory? Hmm…

Come to think of it, those new roads are a good idea. Future Quaker educators might have a little trouble with my parents’ driveway.

My folks insist this is safe to drive across. Hey, it’s only a 20-foot drop on the other side!

So rather than singing “What Have They Done To the Old Home Place”, I’m looking forward to next year’s visit. Hey there, lil’ sis–my, how you’ve grown!