At the Tower Mill (Encore)

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Speaker 2 Charlie Sheen is an icon of decadence. I lit the fuse, and my life turns into everything it wasn't supposed to be.
He's going the distance. He was the highest-paid TV star of all time.

Speaker 2 When it started to change, it was quick. He kept saying, no, no, no, I'm in the hospital now, but next week I'll be ready for the show.
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Speaker 1 Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone

Speaker 1 in which

Speaker 1 nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 You feel good,

Speaker 1 and then

Speaker 1 you fall asleep.

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Speaker 1 I write and read

Speaker 1 all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens.

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Speaker 1 And since I'm a person and not a computer, I sometimes sound just slightly different.

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Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 I have a story to tell you.

Speaker 1 And the story is simple,

Speaker 1 without much action,

Speaker 1 but full of relaxing detail.

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Speaker 1 You know this.

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Speaker 1 and set aside anything you've been working on or looking at.

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Speaker 1 and let it out with a sigh.

Speaker 1 Nice. Do it again.
Breathe in

Speaker 1 and out.

Speaker 1 Good.

Speaker 1 Our story tonight is called At the Tower Mill.

Speaker 1 And it's a story about the sails of a windmill turning in the spring breeze.

Speaker 1 It's also about a warm morning and breakfast in the open air,

Speaker 1 cherry trees, carved furstone,

Speaker 1 and the things that bring neighbors together.

Speaker 1 at the Tower Mill

Speaker 1 Some mills run on water

Speaker 1 A giant wheel turned by the flow of a river

Speaker 1 And those have their own kind of magic

Speaker 1 Watching the wheel turn

Speaker 1 Especially if you have seen one start

Speaker 1 from a stopped position.

Speaker 1 It's a delight.

Speaker 1 A sluice gate is lifted somewhere on higher ground.

Speaker 1 And water comes rushing down a canal

Speaker 1 to fill the bucket sections along the diameter of the wheel.

Speaker 1 Once three or four are full,

Speaker 1 the weight of the water

Speaker 1 pulls the wheel forward

Speaker 1 and it begins to turn

Speaker 1 until it is spinning powerfully

Speaker 1 and driving a mechanical process

Speaker 1 that might be milling your flour

Speaker 1 or making pulp for your paper.

Speaker 1 It is ingenious engineering

Speaker 1 a marvel,

Speaker 1 considering it's thousands of years old.

Speaker 1 Yes, I have a soft spot for water mills.

Speaker 1 But watch a windmill on a breezy day

Speaker 1 and and see if you don't get carried away in a daydream.

Speaker 1 Ours is out on a high stretch of newly green grass,

Speaker 1 catching the spring wind and its long sails.

Speaker 1 Ours is old,

Speaker 1 hundreds of years old,

Speaker 1 and still in solid working order.

Speaker 1 Most every morning,

Speaker 1 now that the snow has melted,

Speaker 1 I walk out to check on her.

Speaker 1 And today is no different.

Speaker 1 It was bright and truly warm today.

Speaker 1 Not the kind of warm

Speaker 1 that is only warm if you stand in the sun and out of the wind.

Speaker 1 No, it was

Speaker 1 just actually warm.

Speaker 1 So I'd drunk my coffee

Speaker 1 and eaten my cinnamon raisin toast spread with peanut butter out on the back porch.

Speaker 1 The birds were singing arias

Speaker 1 all around the old farmhouse

Speaker 1 and hopping in the flower beds,

Speaker 1 finding twigs and dried stems to make into nests.

Speaker 1 Those first few mornings of the spring

Speaker 1 when I can breakfast in the out of doors again.

Speaker 1 I always think

Speaker 1 I'll never miss another chance to do so.

Speaker 1 The fresh air makes the coffee taste so much better.

Speaker 1 The food satisfies in a different way

Speaker 1 and I am inspired to move,

Speaker 1 to get out into the gardens or up to the mill

Speaker 1 or just

Speaker 1 out into the world

Speaker 1 with some enthusiasm

Speaker 1 that I didn't have

Speaker 1 when the snow was falling.

Speaker 1 So, after that last sip of coffee,

Speaker 1 I brushed the crumbs from my fingertips

Speaker 1 and got ready for a trip to the mill.

Speaker 1 I could see it from the porch,

Speaker 1 far out in the field.

Speaker 1 On a good day,

Speaker 1 it was only a ten-minute walk.

Speaker 1 But I needed a few things to make the trek first.

Speaker 1 In the back hall of the house, I pulled on my Wellington boots,

Speaker 1 guessing that the path to the mill

Speaker 1 would still be a little muddy.

Speaker 1 I buttoned up a sweater,

Speaker 1 as the breeze in the field was often stronger than here at the house, and set out.

Speaker 1 I trekked out past the gardens,

Speaker 1 the birds singing around me.

Speaker 1 As I wandered past the fruit trees and compost pile,

Speaker 1 I found myself drawing deep, deep breaths,

Speaker 1 storing the fresh green scents deep in my cells.

Speaker 1 The path had been well worn

Speaker 1 long before we were the keepers of the mill

Speaker 1 and I followed it around a grove of oaks

Speaker 1 and up a gentle rise.

Speaker 1 From there, it ran like a lane

Speaker 1 between rows of cherry trees.

Speaker 1 And I'd always had a feeling

Speaker 1 when walking through

Speaker 1 this particular section of the path

Speaker 1 that carts and buggies must have used it long ago.

Speaker 1 I wondered how different the view was as they crested the hill.

Speaker 1 Probably

Speaker 1 not that different from mine.

Speaker 1 The mill had been here then, too.

Speaker 1 It was a tower mill,

Speaker 1 meaning that the construction of stone and mortar at the bottom

Speaker 1 and red brick at the top

Speaker 1 made made a tall tower where the sails could turn.

Speaker 1 There was a door on the ground floor

Speaker 1 and a few windows

Speaker 1 that we'd added window boxes to.

Speaker 1 I'd plant some flowers in them in the next few weeks.

Speaker 1 Pansies, maybe, or geraniums, if I thought the the frosts were really over.

Speaker 1 I pushed through the door

Speaker 1 and took in the room around me.

Speaker 1 The daylight was cutting through the windows,

Speaker 1 lighting up the small circular space.

Speaker 1 Stone stairs curled around the perimeter,

Speaker 1 rising up to the second and third floor.

Speaker 1 There were a few workbenches and tools to repair the works as needed.

Speaker 1 But the majority of the space

Speaker 1 was taken up by the giant millstone

Speaker 1 and the gears that turned it.

Speaker 1 The stone was actually two stones,

Speaker 1 one that was stationary,

Speaker 1 and the other that turned to grind the grain.

Speaker 1 Carved from burr stone,

Speaker 1 they were giant and powerful,

Speaker 1 and had made countless bags of flour over the years.

Speaker 1 The scent of ground grain lingered,

Speaker 1 along with the warm smell of old wood.

Speaker 1 When we moved into the farm,

Speaker 1 we found the mill had been a bit neglected.

Speaker 1 Nothing that couldn't be repaired,

Speaker 1 but some work to set it all back to rights was needed.

Speaker 1 We called on some of our neighbors, asking for help.

Speaker 1 And in return, the mill would be open to all of them to grind their wheat into flour.

Speaker 1 And they came out to help.

Speaker 1 Many who'd never grown wheat before

Speaker 1 began to plant some

Speaker 1 just to learn more about the process.

Speaker 1 to be able to have their own bags of flour to keep in the pantry.

Speaker 1 It took a year or two to get all the kinks worked out.

Speaker 1 But now it ran pretty smoothly.

Speaker 1 We'd even had a few visits from school groups,

Speaker 1 kids coming to walk the long path

Speaker 1 and watch the millstones turn

Speaker 1 and eat cookies made with the flower.

Speaker 1 We figured we were just continuing the legacy

Speaker 1 of this old building,

Speaker 1 which had undoubtedly fed neighbors all over the county

Speaker 1 when it was in its first bloom.

Speaker 1 I climbed the stairs up into the second floor,

Speaker 1 where a giant funnel held the grain during grinding time.

Speaker 1 I kept going all the way up to the top.

Speaker 1 We had a chain hoist system

Speaker 1 to draw the bags of weed up

Speaker 1 to be poured into the chutes.

Speaker 1 I looked out the window on the top floor.

Speaker 1 The thirty-foot sails were turning in front of me.

Speaker 1 And I could see the house

Speaker 1 and the spot on the porch where I'd eaten my breakfast this morning.

Speaker 1 I liked this part of the season,

Speaker 1 the start of something new.

Speaker 1 I was sure we'd meet new neighbors, welcome new classes of school children,

Speaker 1 and try new recipes with our homegrown ingredients.

Speaker 1 At the Tower Mill,

Speaker 1 some mills run on water,

Speaker 1 a giant wheel turned by the flow of a river,

Speaker 1 and those have their own kind of magic.

Speaker 1 Watching the wheel turn,

Speaker 1 especially if you have seen one start

Speaker 1 from a stopped position

Speaker 1 as a delight.

Speaker 1 A sluice gate is lifted

Speaker 1 somewhere on higher ground

Speaker 1 and water comes rushing down a canal

Speaker 1 to fill the bucket sections along the diameter of the wheel.

Speaker 1 Once three or four are full,

Speaker 1 the weight of the water pulls the wheel forward

Speaker 1 and it begins to turn

Speaker 1 until it is spinning powerfully

Speaker 1 and driving a mechanical process.

Speaker 1 That might be milling your flour

Speaker 1 or making pulp for your paper.

Speaker 1 It is ingenious engineering,

Speaker 1 a marvel considering it's thousands of years old

Speaker 1 yes I have a soft spot

Speaker 1 for water mills

Speaker 1 but watch a windmill

Speaker 1 on a breezy day

Speaker 1 and see if you don't get carried away

Speaker 1 in a daydream

Speaker 1 Ours is out on a high stretch of newly green grass,

Speaker 1 catching the spring wind and its long sails.

Speaker 1 Ours is old,

Speaker 1 hundreds of years old,

Speaker 1 and still

Speaker 1 in solid working order.

Speaker 1 Most every morning,

Speaker 1 now that the snow has melted,

Speaker 1 I walk out to check on her

Speaker 1 and to-day is no different.

Speaker 1 It was bright

Speaker 1 and truly warm today.

Speaker 1 Not the kind of warm that

Speaker 1 is only warm if you stand in the sun and out of the wind.

Speaker 1 No, it was

Speaker 1 just actually

Speaker 1 warm.

Speaker 1 So I'd drunk my coffee

Speaker 1 and eaten my cinnamon raisin toast spread with peanut butter

Speaker 1 out on the back porch.

Speaker 1 The birds were singing arias

Speaker 1 all around the old farmhouse

Speaker 1 and hopping in the flower beds,

Speaker 1 finding twigs

Speaker 1 and dried stems to make into nests.

Speaker 1 Those first few mornings of the spring

Speaker 1 when I can breakfast in the out of doors again.

Speaker 1 I always think

Speaker 1 I'll never never miss another chance to do so.

Speaker 1 The fresh air makes the coffee taste so much better.

Speaker 1 The food satisfies in a different way.

Speaker 1 And I am inspired to move.

Speaker 1 To get out into the gardens

Speaker 1 or up to the mill

Speaker 1 or just out

Speaker 1 into the world,

Speaker 1 with an enthusiasm that I just didn't have

Speaker 1 when the snow was falling.

Speaker 1 So after that last sip of coffee,

Speaker 1 I brushed the crumbs from my fingertips

Speaker 1 and got ready for a trip to the mill.

Speaker 1 I could see it from the porch,

Speaker 1 far out in the field.

Speaker 1 On a good day, it was only a ten-minute walk away.

Speaker 1 But I needed a few things to make the trek first.

Speaker 1 In the back hall of the house,

Speaker 1 I pulled on my Wellington boots,

Speaker 1 guessing that the path to the mill

Speaker 1 would still be a little muddy.

Speaker 1 I buttoned up a sweater,

Speaker 1 as the breeze in the field

Speaker 1 was often stronger than here at the house,

Speaker 1 and set out.

Speaker 1 I trekked out past the gardens,

Speaker 1 the birds singing around me as I wandered past the fruit trees and compost pile.

Speaker 1 I found myself drawing deep, deep breaths,

Speaker 1 storing the fresh green scents

Speaker 1 deep in my cells.

Speaker 1 The path had been

Speaker 1 well worn

Speaker 1 long before we were the keepers of the mill.

Speaker 1 And I followed it around a grove of oaks

Speaker 1 and up a gentle rise.

Speaker 1 From there

Speaker 1 it ran like a lane

Speaker 1 between rows of cherry trees for a hundred yards on either side.

Speaker 1 And I'd always had a feeling when walking through

Speaker 1 this particular section of the path

Speaker 1 that carts and buggies

Speaker 1 must have used it long ago.

Speaker 1 I wondered how different the view was

Speaker 1 as they'd crested the hill.

Speaker 1 Probably not that different from mine.

Speaker 1 The mill had been here then too.

Speaker 1 It was a tower mill,

Speaker 1 meaning that the construction of stone and mortar at the bottom

Speaker 1 and red brick at the top

Speaker 1 made a tall tower where the sails could turn.

Speaker 1 There was a door on the ground floor and a few windows that we'd added window boxes to.

Speaker 1 I'd plant some flowers in them in the next week.

Speaker 1 Pansies maybe,

Speaker 1 or geraniums,

Speaker 1 if I thought the frosts were really over.

Speaker 1 I pushed through the door and took in the room around me.

Speaker 1 The daylight was cutting through the windows,

Speaker 1 lighting up the small circular space.

Speaker 1 Stone stairs curled around the perimeter,

Speaker 1 rising up to the second and third floor.

Speaker 1 There were a few workbenches and tools to repair the works as needed.

Speaker 1 But the majority of the space

Speaker 1 was taken up by the giant millstone

Speaker 1 and the gears that turned it.

Speaker 1 The stone was actually two stones,

Speaker 1 one that was stationary

Speaker 1 and the other that turned to grind the grain.

Speaker 1 Carved from burr stone,

Speaker 1 They were giant

Speaker 1 and powerful

Speaker 1 and had made countless bags of flour over the years.

Speaker 1 The scent of ground grain lingered,

Speaker 1 along with the warm smell of old wood.

Speaker 1 When we'd moved into the farm,

Speaker 1 we found the mill had been a bit neglected.

Speaker 1 Nothing that

Speaker 1 couldn't be repaired.

Speaker 1 But some work

Speaker 1 to set it all back to rights was needed.

Speaker 1 We called on some of our neighbors, asking for help,

Speaker 1 and in return,

Speaker 1 the mill would be open to all of them

Speaker 1 to grind their wheat into flour.

Speaker 1 And they came out to help.

Speaker 1 Many who'd never grown wheat before

Speaker 1 began to plant some

Speaker 1 just to get to learn more

Speaker 1 about the process

Speaker 1 to be able to have their own bags of flour

Speaker 1 to keep in the pantry.

Speaker 1 It It took a year or two

Speaker 1 to get all the kinks worked out,

Speaker 1 but now

Speaker 1 it ran pretty smoothly.

Speaker 1 We'd even had a few visits from school groups,

Speaker 1 kids coming to walk the long path

Speaker 1 and watch the millstones turn

Speaker 1 and eat cookies made with the flower.

Speaker 1 We figured we were just continuing

Speaker 1 the legacy of

Speaker 1 this old building,

Speaker 1 which had undoubtedly fed neighbors all over the county

Speaker 1 when it was in its first bloom.

Speaker 1 I climbed the stairs up into the second floor

Speaker 1 where a giant funnel held the grain during grinding time

Speaker 1 and kept going

Speaker 1 all the way up to the top.

Speaker 1 We had a chain hoist system

Speaker 1 to draw the bags of wheat up here to be poured into the chutes.

Speaker 1 I looked out the window on the top floor.

Speaker 1 The thirty-foot sails were turning in front of me

Speaker 1 and I could see the house

Speaker 1 and the spot on the porch

Speaker 1 where I'd eaten my breakfast this morning.

Speaker 1 I liked this part of the new season.

Speaker 1 The start of something new.

Speaker 1 I was sure we'd meet new neighbors,

Speaker 1 welcome new classes of schoolchildren,

Speaker 1 and try new recipes

Speaker 1 with our homegrown ingredients.

Speaker 1 sweet dreams.