This morning I felt rough at the egdes and a little sore. This last week has been a doozy. The snowpocolypse was not even the issue, though it shut down the big city to the north of us, our small town was still open and we only got 4-6 inches with not much drift. It was nice being stuck inside with my family.....
And then the pipes froze, the condenser hose on the upstairs furnace froze and leaked water into the kitchen, the fuse blew on the boiler, and the tankless hot water heater froze up. Of course these issues are pretty critical and more critical overnight. But I get girl duty overnight so Dearest was left to man the freezing things.....which led to some pretty awful grumpiness due to the cold and sleep deprivation. Everything is ok now that the wind isn't blowing -40, but we've been working on more weatherization none the less.
But wait there's more. The house animals needed to go to the vet. So I loaded them all up and took them. Of course I was acutely aware that Star Kitty and Hobbit had that awful allergic reaction to the vax last year so I told the new vet all about it. They gave Star Kitty benedryl and called it good, vax'd no problem. Until after hours when she started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Dearest was in town for game night and I was on my own with a dying cat. I called the vet and she answered! She suggested a dose of children's benedryl, if I had any on hand. Did I? We don't really have much of that kind of thing on hand....for the kids at least. But I actually have some for me to use, children's at that. So I dosed the angry dying cat, and and hour later she was pupils dialated but calm. We made it through the night and now she's just grumpy and tired. Me too.
Oh and on the way back from the vet, my check engine light came on. I just got my car back from being fixed from deer damage!!!!!! Oh and a dog chewed through one of the seatbelts when I was trying to get them all inside one at a time. And then the traction control gave out. Nooooooooo.
I also burned my hands twice, once on the fireplace and once on a cast iron skillet (I thought my sweater sleeve was a good oven mitt but it seems that the sweater did not agree....) so now both hands are blistered or raw and yet I still have to do dished. I need to remember to pick up rubber dish gloves. Ouch.
I am out of hot chocolate. I went through a case.
The woodburning cookstove stove is a step closer to being installed, the lift is reserved, the lining is ordered. One step closer is good!
I am exhausted, but in a good way. Christmas is going to be here this year, a first for our family. I have a lot of cleaning to do and menu planning but it is exciting! The first Christmas at the farmhouse, whoo hoo!
A blog about farming, unschooling, feminism, 22q deletion syndrome, cooking real food, homesteading, permaculture, and motherhood.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Rough at the Edges
Mother, wife, sister, friend. This is our second year on the farm, a dream we've had since we were first married. We unschool, AP parent, and grow our own food (or try to).
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Early Mornings
I don't get up early because of the farm, I get up early because of the baby. Even when I was pregnant with her, she would wiggle early in the AM. As a baby, she slept and slept, except for at 5 AM- and if that was her only alert awake time I was not going to insist that she go back to sleep! But now, she still gets up early and now she can also wiggle out of bed and take off running.
Somethings have not changed though. Every morning the sunrise is absolutely incredible. This morning it was not colourful, but a gradation of pitch black to dark grey to a light bluish silver over the brilliant white hay fields. Every morning, every single morning I get the gift of baby laughter set to remarkable vistas. I get to begin each day at the farm reminded that I am in the presence of blessings, in the company of God.
A friend just emailed me her dream, one that she imagined (though she's never been to our farmhouse), that our living room was set up with the sofa facing the big windows instead of the center of the room. That's not far from the truth actually, though we have it offset right now to make room for the tree, but I love facing the bay windows with the southern view. My dining room has the same view through another picture window. It is funny though that our view is not of our farm, but of the neighbor's hay. It is a reminder that we are not all alone out here in the wild.
Which brings me to another thought set that I had this morning. We are not isolated here, as much as we were in the city. I get questions all the time about homeschooling isolating us- perhaps it does veer us away from the mainstream (not a bad thing), but then I get people asking if farming isolates us too. Geesh, we must be hermits! The opposite is true though. Through farming and homeschooling we sought out and found community, found others with similar interests, found lifelong friends. Out here in the country we decided to go to church, to find community, to better able to teach our daughters our faith. In the city if we were sick, our neighbors probably never knew- out here someone from the church (actually several people) took the time to drive out here and make sure we were ok. Then we got a lovely card in the mail wishing us better. It was that simple act that really made me feel woven into the hem of this community.
As an aside, it takes me the same amount of distance to go to the local grocery store here as it did in the big city, almost exactly, and yet it takes about 5 minutes less to drive there. Ha! Plus it takes less time to actually shop and the clerks know my girls. If I had any concerns about price and selection, I do not now. They order the few items I requested, like Greek yogurt, coconut oil, and method hand soap (grapefruit scented). I don't buy much at the grocer anymore though I will soon need to buy some vegetables again.
It is quiet here at night. A quiet that I remember distantly from my childhood, summers spent on my Aunt's farm. Sometimes we hear coyotes, which can be scary. We also can here gunshots during hunting season, but that is not so different than where we lived in the city! I do not miss the thumping of car bass turned to loud rattling my windows, I do not miss ghetto doorbells, and I do not miss living surrounded by the noise of other people living. We can hear our neighbors here, but it is not the same thing. It is really lovely, the quiet. For years I had a buzzing tone in my ear, constant. It is gone here but for a few moments now and then. Where we lived in the city the sex offender map showed 20 within 2 blocks of our home and hundreds within 3 miles. Here there are 3 in the whole county and two are teenage love issues. That 1 left is still 15 miles away. Not to say that it really changes how I parent or trust strangers, it is just an observation of a contrast between our city life and our new farm life.
In the year that we have been here I have gone through many changes too. The peacefulness of this place has really crept into my heart. I am a better person for it. Not a perfect person, but a better one than a year ago. I am working on a year in review post for later, but this morning in particular I feel the movement in time, for a full year has passed. I usually do not feel like time has passed, forever stuck feeling the same as I did at age 6, but this morning it is different.
Sorry for the rambling! Good morning to all!
Somethings have not changed though. Every morning the sunrise is absolutely incredible. This morning it was not colourful, but a gradation of pitch black to dark grey to a light bluish silver over the brilliant white hay fields. Every morning, every single morning I get the gift of baby laughter set to remarkable vistas. I get to begin each day at the farm reminded that I am in the presence of blessings, in the company of God.
A friend just emailed me her dream, one that she imagined (though she's never been to our farmhouse), that our living room was set up with the sofa facing the big windows instead of the center of the room. That's not far from the truth actually, though we have it offset right now to make room for the tree, but I love facing the bay windows with the southern view. My dining room has the same view through another picture window. It is funny though that our view is not of our farm, but of the neighbor's hay. It is a reminder that we are not all alone out here in the wild.
Which brings me to another thought set that I had this morning. We are not isolated here, as much as we were in the city. I get questions all the time about homeschooling isolating us- perhaps it does veer us away from the mainstream (not a bad thing), but then I get people asking if farming isolates us too. Geesh, we must be hermits! The opposite is true though. Through farming and homeschooling we sought out and found community, found others with similar interests, found lifelong friends. Out here in the country we decided to go to church, to find community, to better able to teach our daughters our faith. In the city if we were sick, our neighbors probably never knew- out here someone from the church (actually several people) took the time to drive out here and make sure we were ok. Then we got a lovely card in the mail wishing us better. It was that simple act that really made me feel woven into the hem of this community.
As an aside, it takes me the same amount of distance to go to the local grocery store here as it did in the big city, almost exactly, and yet it takes about 5 minutes less to drive there. Ha! Plus it takes less time to actually shop and the clerks know my girls. If I had any concerns about price and selection, I do not now. They order the few items I requested, like Greek yogurt, coconut oil, and method hand soap (grapefruit scented). I don't buy much at the grocer anymore though I will soon need to buy some vegetables again.
It is quiet here at night. A quiet that I remember distantly from my childhood, summers spent on my Aunt's farm. Sometimes we hear coyotes, which can be scary. We also can here gunshots during hunting season, but that is not so different than where we lived in the city! I do not miss the thumping of car bass turned to loud rattling my windows, I do not miss ghetto doorbells, and I do not miss living surrounded by the noise of other people living. We can hear our neighbors here, but it is not the same thing. It is really lovely, the quiet. For years I had a buzzing tone in my ear, constant. It is gone here but for a few moments now and then. Where we lived in the city the sex offender map showed 20 within 2 blocks of our home and hundreds within 3 miles. Here there are 3 in the whole county and two are teenage love issues. That 1 left is still 15 miles away. Not to say that it really changes how I parent or trust strangers, it is just an observation of a contrast between our city life and our new farm life.
In the year that we have been here I have gone through many changes too. The peacefulness of this place has really crept into my heart. I am a better person for it. Not a perfect person, but a better one than a year ago. I am working on a year in review post for later, but this morning in particular I feel the movement in time, for a full year has passed. I usually do not feel like time has passed, forever stuck feeling the same as I did at age 6, but this morning it is different.
Sorry for the rambling! Good morning to all!
Mother, wife, sister, friend. This is our second year on the farm, a dream we've had since we were first married. We unschool, AP parent, and grow our own food (or try to).
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Holiday Generosity
I love Christmas. I love the lights and smells and the opportunity for gathering and gifting. I love dressing up and I love cookies. It may sound hokey, but I would love it if Christmas lasted all year. LOVE it.
For me Christmas isn't all about that stuff. Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, the new hope that was given to humanity. I know I don't usually get preachy, because my faith is a very personal thing for me, but this simple fact gets really lost in the commercialism of the holiday. There is no reminder of hope to be circled in toy books, no joy in the Sunday ads, and no salvation in the aisles of the superstores. For a moment forget what things you have to buy for people and think about what you would do if you had no money at all to buy anything, not even your own food this holiday. What would you do? What would your family say to you? What would happen?
Some of us have known this hard reality, some would rather go into un-payable debt than face the humiliation of being empty handed at gift giving events. It is so ingrained into our American culture that stuff is important. It is nice, I actually really love that the girls get new clothes and toys at the holidays, but you know, it is not what the holidays are about.
I want my children to know that Christmas is about the birth of a single man who died for our salvation. What amazing generosity that is! My family doesn't get bombarded with toy commercials simply because we don't watch TV daily and we don't bring home the ToysRus sampler, though we have cruised the store and certainly can and do choose things that interest us. The bigger part of the equation, the one that is an everyday lesson, is generosity. If you see someone has a need and you have the means to help them, do so. I have food, you are hungry, share a meal with me. I have knowledge you need, I will teach you. You have a sadness, I will let you cry on my shoulder and make a mean cup of tea. We seem to draw to us, those who live the same way, walk the same path. We all try to be generous not just with resources, but with compassion and understanding.
That is a big lesson for me, as I have been stingy with compassion at times. I now try even harder to assess my frustrations with people and family, while still protecting my nestlings from harm, with a lens of compassion. Everybody has hurts that shape their hearts, leaving the past behind is not entirely possible. I often fail to trust, and it takes prayer for me to relax and allow myself some room to open up to friendship. Even so, there are a handful of people I still need to be more compassionate with. That rambling may not make any sense at all, but bear with me while I process this.
My point is, this Christmas, make time for something new. Hand make each card, try to do the same with gifts. Do this with your children and friends. Think about what you are giving to each person, is it something they need? Does it speak of your love for them? Why not?
My Lil'Bug gets Christmas. Last year all she wanted was cookies because, "I already have every toy in the whole world!" When pressured she agreed to ask for a new tent because her got broken in a kid mosh. The year before that she asked for a sister (to be fair that was also her wishing star wish, birthday wish, and wishing well wishes for almost 18 months). This year she simply asked Santa for a new board game because she really loves playing board games with Daddy. Then the mall Santa handed her a packet of things and in it was a fold out north pole/candyland thing- bam, she's, "got Christmas covered!" Now she wants to make sure everyone gets cookies and we have a nice pretty tree. That's it. No toy ad circling, no gimme gimmes. She's 5! She gets it.
I got it when I was 18. I filled stockings with joy, I made sure everyone had a present, I invited friends to our home. When present time came, I got nothing. Nothing. As it turns out, my gifts were simply unwrapped and left hidden- discovered 3 days later by a family member. You know what? That was an awesome gift that I got nothing. It really spoke to my heart as I sat and watched everyone laughing and singing and loving each other. I said nothing that night because my heart was so full of joy that presents didn't matter to me. That was the night that my faith, that had rooted and grown secretly over the years, really bloomed. That was my Christmas gift: a heart full of joy despite the struggles of that year, despite the hopelessness that I fought off in my quiet time, despite guilt that I carried for others for my whole childhood. That night it was all lifted from me, even if just for that night, I knew it was possible. The following year was the answer to all my lifelong prayers: my first kiss shared with Dearest, independence from hurt, and a new beginning.
So this Christmas think about what a gift really is, what it means, and what you are truly giving.
Merry Christmas friends.
Mother, wife, sister, friend. This is our second year on the farm, a dream we've had since we were first married. We unschool, AP parent, and grow our own food (or try to).
Friday, 11 December 2009
Our First Real Tree......
Mother, wife, sister, friend. This is our second year on the farm, a dream we've had since we were first married. We unschool, AP parent, and grow our own food (or try to).
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