Action Shots

Snob

Am I a snob? Even the look of the word typed out makes me crinkle my nose a bit. In the past month I have been accused of being a snob at least three times, to my face. Which means the thought is running through the people that surround me, right? Still, it has been bothering me a bit.

I try really hard to understand other points of view and not be condescending of other's choices, but I still have an opinion of my own. I think that in the striving that most people do to fit in, their own opinion can get lost. Mine doesn't. I might add to my position or even change my mind sometimes, but I have no problem with sharing my views. I don't let my kids eat certain things because of what is in them or how they are made, I don't use "product" in my hair if it lists urea as an ingredient (because, ew, urine), and I don't have network or cable or satelite television. Those are my choices, I own them.

It is also true that I have lost friends over my opinions and actions regarding drug use around children. That is not snobby, in my opinion. It was at the least an understanding of the law, and at the core protecting my children from care providers who were drug users. Does that make me a snob or a good mom? Right.

That is the base of many of my decisions actually. I think of my children and the health of my family first. If someone threatens that health, we don't invite them to our home. I think that this is a pretty common standard actually. The problem is more complicated when that person is a close family member. I am ashamed to say, that in my family we have child abusers and pedophiles. None are welcome in my home and what mother in her right mind would allow such a person to babysit or even attend her child's birthday party. For crying out loud, that doesn't make me a snob. It isn't just that these unfortunate souls are "not living up to my standards"- it is that they have chosen behaviors that are vile and dangerous. I do believe in second chances in life, but I also believe in common sense. As long as the person is harming herself and others, she is not going to babysit my kids. You know?

I understand, I forgive, I pray for them...but that doesn't mean the harm they have done isn't real or that they don't continue to pose a threat. Then there is another aspect. I am a child abuse survivor. The person who abused me, the thought of having her in my home causes me great anxiety. She continued to abuse me well into adulthood and demands that I allow her access to my family. When I finally healed enough to stand up for myself, I still fall to her words. So I need distance and absence. That is what I need. That is what I demand. It doesn't make me a snob. In fact, it pisses me off that the sentiment was even issued. It is an insult to me as victim/survivor. Only because it is a familial issue, is it an issue at all. No one would be expected to invite their mugger or stalker to their kid's birthday.

Oh, I have prayed about this. I have forgiven. I might even understand how what came to be did. I just won't ever forget nor will I let history play like a broken record.

This Little Piggy Went to Market

And on this lovely October day, four big piggies were hauled to Milo to fulfill their destiny.

The last of the pig chores.

Yes, Dearest helped take them on their final walk. It seemed fitting after all those long walks down the road and around the pond. There was much less swearing this time though. Ha.

GreenRanchingMom's crew came and hauled our harvest. She has been awesome with helping me on this adventure. From feed to farm, questions she had answers.

Also, the local vet was pretty cool too. I wanted the feces looked at for worms so we could treat for just what was present. One vet wanted to forgo that and just dose with a mega dose universal yucky shot, the new vet agreed to look. Only 3 types of worms were found and there was a small dose that covered all three. Sweet. They got one round of that and it was the only medicine they received while in our care.

They slept under the stars and played in the sunshine. They hung out in a sweet little house while it rained. They had chicken friends who groomed them. They were fed gourmet cheese whey and grain hand mixed with fresh water into porridge. They got apples and pears as treats. They went for long walks with Dearest now and then. They squealed with delight. They were happy, happy pigs. We are grateful for knowing them, and more grateful for the bacon forthcoming. I miss bacon.

Brrrrrrr.....

October. Frost. Cold. Freezing.

I love it! I love the fire in the fireplace, bonfires, mulled cider. The wood cookstove came Friday. Winter is on its way.

It's been one year since we first looked at this place, first got stuck in the Southern Iowa mud, got blocked in by the local homecoming parade and it's 50 firetrucks and 2 floats, first gazed on the changing leaves reflected on the rippling pond water.

Back up just before that. We had our house on the market, we had agreed to not look until we sold (which we still haven't). I still looked. I stumbled upon the listing one night and emailed it to Dearest. He said, don't bother. I said, looking won't hurt. Still I trembled as I dialed and called the realtor. I have only trembled like that 3 other times in my entire life: when Dearest first kissed me, and the birth of each daughter. I knew something big was going to happen. I started packing months before and had announced to the dismay of all that we'd be on a farm by Christmas of 2008. My family doubted my sanity, yet here we are.

Then I made the phone call. I dared to dream. I drove south to a town I'd been to once when I worked for the state historic preservation office, followed GPS down a mud road, two children in tow and a block of cheddar.

Honestly, I had my doubts.