Echo Farm

 An extraordinary night finds me alone in my house. I haven't been alone in my house since Covid hit our country 9 months ago. I have been with my family. Constantly. I say that tonight I am alone, but I should clarify that I am only bereft of people, not animals. Covid has turned my lovely, Georgian home into a muddy farm. And I am thankful. 

Rowan kicked off the spring by planting 2000 pumpkin seeds. A 40 row garden went in next. 

We built a barn and Rose got a pregnant cow. Rowan began raising, butchering, and selling chickens.

We got a piglet.

Geese were added to protect the chickens and barn kittens were secured to keep the barn in order.

Turkeys were someone's bright idea and 6 of them gobbled in the field. 

I started to go a little crazy and wore overalls and straw hats every day in the summer.

I have had many dreams in my lifetime but I'm pretty sure this was never one of them.

But I try to take what comes, listen to my kids ideas, and if at all possible, help them make those ideas happen. Sometimes, like when the cow tries to trample me, I think I may have gone too far. But then, nothing really bad has happened yet and our bacon tastes great. We are not completely self sufficient, but close. We eat our own meat out of the freezer, drink our own milk, crack our own eggs, and saute our own veggies.

Rowan and Rose are the driving force behind everything. Dave comes home from work and helps when he can. Grant just shakes his head and mutters that we only got him frogs. Avonlea is always willing to help between her school and work, but almost everything falls on Rowan, Rose and me. Rose and I get up every morning to milk. I strain and play dairy maid while she cleans stalls and sees to ducklings, rabbits, chickens, and kittens. Rowan feeds dogs, meat chickens, geese, turkeys, and quail. I go back out and give extra milk to animals who had 5 gold stars for attitude and obedience and then I distribute pumpkins (although we sold hundreds, we still have a few (hundred) left over). The chickens and the cow love overly ripe pumpkins ripped open for them. I love feeding and nurturing so we are all very happy. 

We named our farm, Echo Farm. I believe that the words we say and the actions we do will live on through our children and echo down through the generations. This summer as my mom, Avonlea, and I weeded the garden together and Rose and Rowan wandered by feeding and walking animals I knew that none of us would ever forget the sound of this particular echo. That my mom, who sacrificed time and money we didn't have when I was growing up, so that I could become a dancer, enabled me to sacrifice my time and dislike of dirt and dirty animals so that my children could realize a dream. 

Maybe having a farm was never a dream of mine, but whoever said we have to only make our own dreams come true? This echo of sacrifice started long before me or my mom. It started with our Father God and it is echoing still in this world. Echoing in places we'd least expect to hear it. Like in a barn. 

Although maybe, that's the most natural place in the world to hear it. 

Merry Christmas.

Waiting in White

Christmas and New Years and a white world.

We wake up to the sifting of frozen precipitation on our cottage.
Wide eyes and wider smiles greet the morning and jammies are exchanged for snow pants with amazing rapidity.

There was sledding, cross country skiing, down-hill skiing, snow ball fights, and snow angels.

I watched the comings and goings of the kids and Dave and various friends.
I watched from the inside. Somehow, I didn't have the strength to battle elements.
I needed the beauty of a white world from the comfort of a warm cottage.

After a week of watching I finally ventured out into a 19 degree morning. I walked a circuit that normally takes me 20 minutes. It took much longer as I had to fight for my steps through the deep snow. My exposed face ached with cold. I was tired when I came in but not exhausted. My week of rest held me in good stead and gave me an understanding of the coming year.

Soak in the beautiful.
Don't rush out just because everyone else is.
Venture forth in the right time, rested and ready for the challenge.
Engage the path and learn from the experience.

Mostly, I learned again what the cottage teaches me in every season.

Listen.
Slow down.
Watch carefully.
Feel deeply.
Engage.
Give thanks.
Love beautifully.

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
      They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
               I say to myself, 'The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.'
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him;
        it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."

~Lamentations 3:22-26

Overload

Since the holidays, I have been on overload. I am now going to share that overload in an attempt to feel less overloaded. Or  maybe it is simply because I have an hour to myself right now, as my husband and son make weapons of mass destruction and my daughter does homework and my other two are in bed.

On my birthday post I relayed the information that our beautiful trees were being executed. I have been reminded, once again, that there is beauty in death. The sunlight that lit up our previously dark living room almost took my breath away. Sunlight that came because of a cutting away.

After a lovely Christmas at home, we headed up to LaPine, and then onto the cottage, where we lived in a blur of activity and laughter. Truly a time I treasured.

Ice skating!

Sledding by tractor in the moonlight

My cottage decorating continues....here is the kitchen remodel so far.

this is how it looked when we bought it



this was the first phase
 

Not done yet, but getting there

Next...came Grant's birthday. He was given responsibility in the form of a gift. A precious gift that he named Comet.

Grant picked her out as a two week old baby

We brought her home at 6 weeks

She has become Grant's constant companion

Needless to say we've been in puppy heaven. Comet is so sweet. Grant got to learn how to wake in the night to puppy whines and take her out to potty. He feeds her, walks her, and trains her.

This last weekend we had a birthday party. Grant is growing up into a fun, loving, God-fearing man and part of this is reflected in who he has chosen for friends. These boys are kind, polite, and considerate. I feel tangible hope when I look at these boys and the men they are growing into.

The nicest boys ever, even if they are armed

I think that brings me up to date on Christmas, puppies, and teen birthdays. I no longer feel overloaded.
Now I can fix my sights on the next thing....
which happens to be Haiti!

Peace

I step into my in-laws house where my kids and their cousins are playing their favorite game appropriately entitled "Monster".
Uncle Jon greets me with the words, "Welcome to chaos."
I smile and reply, "I just left peace." I was referring to the quiet house I had inhabited alone all day.

I willingly left that quiet house and entered into the cousin chaos because I happen to love those children.

I tell my husband, after another late night, that I just want to spend Christmas alone, in front of the fire doing a 24 hour advent. I want a silent night. Peace.

And my friend and I banter on the phone about consumerism and expectations and family combustion and she says, "This isn't what Christmas is about!"

And in the time it takes to open my mouth in reply, I have an epiphany.
And I say, "This is exactly what Christmas is about."

And it is. He left perfect peace and entered into our chaos. Truly, 7 screaming cousins hold nothing to a lost world full of lost people screaming in their lostness. The kind of peace I asked my husband for, is an artificial peace. It's a state of mind brought about by sedate children and advent candles.  That isn't the kind of peace He came to give.

He came to give us peace with God so that His desire for unity and peace would become our desire. So that we could extend to those who have hurt us. So that we could deeply care about those wounded. So that our desire for peace would be greater than our feelings, greater than our rights, greater than our pain.

So this Christmas, He is being born again in me.
And I greet Him with the words, "Welcome to chaos."

And He replies, "I am Peace."
Because Love always enters in.

Pictures and Laments

I am extremely random today.
So much so, that while talking to a friend on the phone this afternoon she voiced the question, "How much tea have you had today?"
Rose and I butted heads in school this morning.
We had company this afternoon.
Dave went and picked up our beef for the year at the butchers and I messed up the order.
I forgot I had a dentist appointment tomorrow.
I don't know where my mother is.
Dave tried to have a bon-fire with the kids and almost set the yard on fire and I didn't really care.

We were at the cottage for a week between Christmas and New Years. I did nothing there except play with my husband and children, take walks outside, and eat chocolate croissants. I had no phone and no computer. I loved it.
I came back to this world, the weight of it's responsibilities, and it's been a shock, like the cold water that shoots out of the shower when you're expecting it hot. I know the hot will kick in eventually and a nice warm temperature will emerge and I'll be comfortable again.
For now, I'll leave you with pictures of our season and family.
Good night!

Rosy racing

Grant and the last kitten

Ready for presents!

Avonlea took a picture of me having tea on Christmas

I took a picture of Avonlea playing the harp on Christmas

Our family dinner

Amy and Avonlea

New dresses for the girls

My cottage breakfast

The girls room in the cottage

Avonlea relaxing with the kitten

Tea in the cottage den

Orchard with light snow

Our creek!