My Living Room is a Nursery

We have been very busy here at the farm, for the last month or so. Since I can't remember the last post I made, and I am admittedly too lazy to look it up, I will recap here. We started out with with three pigs (two gilts and a boar) that were in pig (such a funny term for being pregnant!), due to farrow any day. We had six goats, all does, only two of which were in milk. A few heritage turkeys, eight ducks, and a small (25-30) flock of chickens. We have expanded. And not in our waistlines either.

That being said, back to the title. Why on earth is my living room a nursery? Well...

First we had our two gilts/sows farrow. Each had nine wiggly little piglets, and they shared the same paddock during the entire process. All was going well, with mama #2 sharing the job of milk bar for the first little piglets. We thought it was an awesome thing for them to be sharing the job of raising the little ones all together. At least until the second farrow which happened about three weeks later. Since Mama #2 was already nursing babies from Mama #1, she wasn't as focused on nursing her own offspring, or protecting them from the larger piglets. The younger ones ended up suffering s lot of cuts to the head, with some injuries down to the bone. They were also not thriving as well as they should have, since the older ones were pushing them out of the way. So we had to take action. After much mulling over, we decided to remove the smallest ones from their mama and raise them on bottles. It was a risky gambit, since it is generally advised to remove the sow from the piglets when they are weaned. They were also only a few days old, so had a severely diminished chance of survival.

We went in with a plan. We would sneak in after the morning feeding to surround the moms and older babies with a hog panel fence around their favorite feeding tree (a story for later). We would feed them to keep them all distracted, and hopefully swoop in and remove all the babies as fast as possible before the moms got cranky. If you have ever been around pigs, you know why we would want to be fast. For those of you who have never witnessed a cranky mama sow, imagine a pissed off Sherman tank racing towards you hell-bent on protecting its offspring. A sight to make anyone a little nervous to be sure.

For all the planning we did, the act of removing the piglets went remarkably smoothly. Moms were distracted by food, babies were swept into a Rubbermaid tub with hardly an incident, and we trooped off proud of ourselves for a job well done. The next dilemma was to make sure they were well fed and would survive the next few critical weeks of development. For that, we needed enough goat milk, the universal milk replacer for mammals.

We already had two does in milk, but the milk they were producing was not going to be enough. I did some price comparisons on artificial milk replacer (sow milk replacer as well as goat milk replacer), and found it would be FAR cheaper just to buy another doe in milk than to buy the artificial replacer. So the search ensued. We ended up finding one in our price range that was pregnant; the first one we were shown had a large lump in her udder that we were not prepared to try and treat. We drove her home, and she ended up birthing a buckling in the back of the truck in a parking lot. Not at all what we expected! Her udder was massively congested, and she wasn't letting the baby nurse, so we ended up having to remove him too so he would have a better chance of survival. At this point, we had a baby goat as well as nine little piggies in our living room.

Over the next few weeks, we realized that we would need more milk for all the pigs, as we wanted to supplement the older piglets so they would be more socialized as well as having a better diet. Milk-fed pork. Yum! The search began anew. As the story goes, the person we bought the pregnant doe from decided to divest himself of almost all his goats, so we went to pick up another. We bought the one he showed us, and he threw in her two kids for free. He also had another doe (the original one we looked at with the lump in her udder) he would sell us for just a little more, and he would throw in HER kids as well. Yikes! We went out to buy one goat, and we came back with SIX!!

In the end, we picked up ANOTHER doe (and her kid who turns out to be fairly wild) so we could have enough for ALL the piglets and ALL the kids as well. I am hoping to wean the goats within the next few weeks so we can either freeze milk for the piglets as they grow or to sell as Goat Shares.

We also picked up some Large Fowl Cochin chicks who are also currently calling an old TV box home in our living room. They are good for eggs and meat, and have little feathered feet. Squee! I will try to get some good photos of them eventually. No promises, though.

What do I want next? A milk cow. Really. I swear, my husband and my son could both almost fully exist off of just a raw milk diet if given the choice. While we do have a source for some raw cows milk, we really just need to save up our pennies or find someone to help invest in our little enterprise so we can have our own milk cow. I never thought I would see the day when I would hear myself say that! It is amazing what happens in such a short span of time, when different opportunities present themselves. Some Guinea hens or keets would be nice too. While I am dreaming out loud, 200+ private acres in the mountains with pasture and irrigation or riverfront for our own would be awesome too...

Just Saying....

Finding A Mountain

I think I mentally started this post a dozen times. So much has been going on the last few months, I feel like it has been a luxury to even contemplate posting, much less actually doing it! I think the main reason I am finally sitting down to post is I just want to get a few things out of my head, and clear my brain cells from some of the clutter.

In January, I took a trip by myself, for the first time in....I don't even know. Certainly BC (Before Children), and probably since early on in my marriage. Hubby and I truly enjoy each others company (even after 15 years of being together!), so there hasn't been a lot of incentive to go on a solo trip. This time was a little different. My folks offered to pay my way to California to have a week-long visit with family (I have quite a few relatives out that way) and to see my grandmother celebrate her 90th birthday.

It was a trip of mixed feelings. It was fun (although slightly stressful having to deal with airport security, etc.) traveling by myself. No kids to chase, no other people to look after but myself. I was sad to leave my family for a week, but it was a good experience. It gave me a much-needed breath of air, and allowed me to have a little time to myself and to see my extended family.

Seeing my grandmother made me feel sad. She is such a vibrant and bright figure in my childhood. She and my great-grandmother were such strong women. They were also both,tragically, rather crazy. I can understand their craziness to some extent was brought about by circumstances out of their control, but it has had lasting repercussions through our family relations. It was actually my husband who helped me forge a renewed relationship with my grandmother several years ago, and I think it was for the best. He told me that even though she was crazy, she was also an old lady and would not be around for much longer. So why not forgive her some of the craziness for the sake of loving your grandmother for her last few years on this earth. Such a smart man.

I felt so sad seeing her. It was almost like visiting with a shadow of herself. Some vague parts of her personality and speech were there, but her soul, her spirit was gone. She has been showing greater signs of Alzheimer's the last few years, and it has robbed her of much of her lively personality. She now lives in a home with 3-4 other residents, and doesn't remember much . I think it is a blessing, actually. She had such a hard life (crazy mother, remember?), and was such a bitch to her daughters (and daughters-in-law, and granddaughters, and probably nieces as well), that it a great irony of life that in her final years she remembers nothing. She didn't even remember me. I feel a little wistful that there was only a vague flicker of recognition, and sad that her memories are gone forever. It would have been interesting to have some written down or recorded.

Oh well.

In the middle of February, we discovered that someone in my in-laws neighborhood (where we have been staying with our animals) didn't like our piggies. They left rat poison in their pen, and some of the dogs got hold of it as well. Luckily, they were all fine, especially our two pregnant (!!!WOOHOO!!!) gilts/sows. So we realized that the universe was AGAIN saying "GET OUT AND MOVE", so we had better take the hint and FIND a way to make things work on land somewhere. After a few advertisements, we found out that people in Colorado were *really* interested in our pigs (especially the piglets to buy), and we found several folks willing to help us out in relocating our animals. One even had a place for us as well (!!), so for the last month or so we have been busily moving our pigs and goats and tidying up the place for human habitation. That is another story all together. Especially the "pig moving" story. Whew!

It is pretty rustic right now (no running water, no heat, spotty electricity, and even more spotty internet and phone service), BUT it is four walls, a roof and a ceiling for us, safety from poisoners for our animals, and hopefully a little more serenity and calm for our little family SOON. We are working very hard on making it so, so please forgive the lapses in posts as we try to work all this out. And keep your fingers and toes crossed that this is the right path the universe is setting us on!

A Better Day

I have been trying to think of something to write about all day, and came up with too many options. We actually had a reasonably productive day, and have a plan to come up with an action plan for dealing with the house, life, and everything else. Well, maybe not everything else, that would take far too long and be rather speculative anyway. We had planned to talk while taking the kids for a drive to another city about an hour away from here. The plan was to warm up some ribs for lunch (leftovers from today), and make S'mores over a fire. Our grand plan has been slightly diverted since we discovered the park we were intending to visit doesn't have camp grills like we thought. Hmm. So much for getting out of town. Maybe we will have Plan B (or C or D) in place by morning.

Speaking of mornings, after breakfast today we took a walk as a family down to the river. We really need the exercise, and since Claire needs a LOT of physical input (or her behavior goes downhill and she acts out more) we figured it would be a good start to the day. It had warmed up to a brisk 21 degrees Fahrenheit, so the little people were bundled up nicely. It was probably a mile or so overall, and we didn't stick around long to throw rocks into the river like we usually do. I snapped a few photos; here is one of some ice along the riverbank.

This afternoon I tried taking a few new pictures of our pigs, since they have been growing up fast. They are now about 9 months old, and definitely of breeding age. We originally planned to use another boar (or try AI) for the girls, but we also didn't plan on having them here this long either. So we have to be flexible. We recently expanded their roaming area, which is bounded on several sides by electric wire fence. It gives a pretty good shock (really, ask me how I know!), yet the pigs seem to test it every single day. I wanted to get a good low angle on them, so I was really close to the ground. My piggies however, being the curious sorts they are, were wondering just *What the Heck* I was doing, and kept coming over to investigate. Forgetting all about the fence in the process. When they accidentally touch the fence, they give out a might squeal and run off about 10-15 feet. I am pretty sure all three of them touched the fence while trying to investigate what I was doing. Sigh. Silly piggies. The light was terrible, but here is one photo I have of our boar, Marley.

We also dealt with a long-awaited "Mothra" project that Claire has been asking us to do for her. She has been asking for us to make her a "Mothra" she can fly. It has been a fun project to figure out, and I know the kids willl love it when they are done. I'll try to put up a post or tutorial on it as soon as we finish one, but I have been taking some photos along the way. Today was cutting them out with the scroll saw, and here are some of the templates before being cut out.

Hopefully we can actually cut some stress soon and get out of town for a few days. I am SO looking forward to it!

Frustration Again

I really should change the title of this to "Frustration Still". It isn't as though our (or my) frustration level has changed at all in the last several months. There is so much we need to do, yet we are hampered by the lack of funds to be able to move and store all our stuff in any easy fashion. We don't *want* to stay with the IL's, but we felt like it was a logical stepping stone to finding land and being able to sell our house.

Now, I just don't know anymore. This environment isn't one that I want my kids to grow up in. My FIL is an ass, and has religious and political views I do not share. I don't enjoy my children being exposed to so much hate. The air is terrible around here next to power plants, mines, drilling for oil and fracking everywhere. The whole spirit of this place is toxic, and I feel it dragging our emotional and spiritual selves down.

We started on this journey because we want to have land where we can be self-sufficient, yet we just have so much to get accomplished before we can reach that point, it seems like such an insurmountable task right now. I guess I am feeling depressed about things, and I know it is a feeling shared by the family. We need a break. We need to be able to regroup and figure out a better plan to get out of here and on to a better place. I don't know if we will need to sell all our animals or not. I would feel really sad to, but I know we need to do something different so we can keep moving on to our goals.

Oh No! My Memory Is Full!

I found out recently that the memory card on my phone is completely full. I was trying to download the latest software update, when it failed. I really should have known better. I knew the SD card would fill up fast with videos and photos, especially since it was only a 2 gig card. Since I haven't replaced it yet, I now have to go through all the videos and photos and delete all the irrelevant stuff.

As I was doing this, I ran across a number of photos reminding me of just how far we have come (and stagnated) this year. There were images of the kids making cookies last Christmas, and hubby using a chainsaw to cut down large tree branches. Photos of us fixing a young goats' broken leg, and the icy trip north to collect several mostly wild dwarf goats. I still have another 1500 pictures to go before it is down to a reasonable level.

Taking A Walk

Late this afternoon as the kids were winding up to be loud and rowdy, we decided to take them out of the house for a walk. Rather than walking down to the river, like we often would, we drove out to the hills. One hill in particular. It isn't the most outstanding feature around, but it is a nice, steep hill that folks like to drive up and down in their four-wheelers and ATVs. From the looks of the trails, a few even make it.

At the base of the hill, its steepness is deceptive. What looks like the crest of the hill is actually about the halfway point, leaving you breathless and wondering why you chose *this* particular challenge to undertake. This afternoon, it was chilly and the breeze had picked up to a blustery wind. If there were trees around, their leaves would have swirled around us as their trunks broke the chill. Yet this land is truly desolate, with the only vegetation the scrubby ankle-high grasses that found a hollow to grow out of between rocks.

The climb was at a good 40 degree angle, which sent my breath flying as I am quite out of shape. My stamina was apparently still lounging on the couch eating chocolate, damn it. We held the kids hands to help them along, and to keep chilly little fingers a bit warmer. Even with the lure of ice cream for the ones that reached the top, we made it to just under the halfway point. It was too cold and windy for all of us, so we turned around vowing to conquer it another (warmer) day.

Another Quickie

Tonight, I am only up for another quickie. Why? It is late, and I have been going non-stop all.day.long. I am pooped. Seriously. Yet I come on here, knowing that my heart-of-hearts will guilt my creative spirit to no end if I don't post tonight. So here I am, and here you are. Forgive me for sounding a little list-y tonight, I am foggy brained and just want to sit and vegetate in front of a book while my creative juices simmer in the back.

Today started off with a bang and continuation of yesterday's festivities. Just before dark we picked out a pleasant looking fellow from the backyard coop and butchered ourselves a Thanksgiving turkey. He was a black slate (really a genetic mutation of the blue slates I believe), and a nice sized bird. We had just enough time to pluck and remove the inner bits before we were too chilly to continue as our solar heater was setting. We do all our processing outside to keep the house a bit cleaner, so we are a little more subject to the whims of Ms. Nature. Since the sun was already looking quite rosy and dim, we decided to continue the preparations after breakfast. Our friend had a good nights rest in a cooler filled with ice while we snuggled warm and cozy under the covers inside.

This morning we continued the preparations with choosing a second turkey from the pen (the smaller of the two slate toms we had remaining). We gave him our thanks for feeding our family, and spent some time plucking and butchering him. Jacob came out to help while Claire was inside pretending to be a moth flitting about with giant orange silk wings. When our second bird was all ready, he went to the ice bath with his fellow bird to rest. In the intervening time, we made pies, cranberry sauce, baked sweet potatoes, and prepped for the grande finale tomorrow. After the weigh-in today (17lbs even once fully dressed out!) we carted our first bird over to the neighbors house. We had offered them a holiday bird to be neighborly a few months ago, also figuring that it would help cut down on our feed bill just a little bit. These big turkeys can eat a huge amount in a day!

The bird we dispatched for ourselves was probably in the range of 21lbs, which is pretty darn good for a heritage breed! I certainly wouldn't buy a larger one at the store. He has a nice amount of fat, and his thighs are HUGE, so I am looking forward to seeing how he tastes tomorrow. It was only just a little while ago we popped our bird in the oven, for a night of slow roasting. Rather than try to cook him in one blaze of glory, I thought we would see what a cooler (275 degree) longer time in the oven would do to our heritage bird. I am sure he will be moist and tasty under his tin foil hat.

Anyways, I am tired and I know I haven't been super entertaining tonight so I will sign off. For those who celebrate the holiday tomorrow, have a fabulous Thanksgiving. For those who do not, I hope you have a wonderful Thursday in peace.

G'Night all!

What Are You Cooking?

Every year, I wonder if we should have something different to eat for Thanksgiving. It is such an American holiday, and I feel a particular pull to at least do some of the "traditional" fixings. In years past, I have had a variety of "non-traditional" meals. Duck breast, ham, beef, maybe even enchiladas, not counting my years after High School being poor and without family at all, where I ate whatever was around unless invited to a family meal by friends or co-workers. Then there were the many years of holidays spent on the Florida coast where we gorged ourselves on fresh shrimp and crab for the holiday. I always felt like such a rebel, consuming seafood when everyone else was downing turkey or ham. It was always strange, though, when my mother insisted on her rutabaga being included. As an homage to her own family traditions, she picked one up faithfully every November and December and cooked it. Even with shrimp. Truly an odd arrangement.

I used to plan alternate family dinners for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I talked about Indian, Mexican, and more. I championed sweet potato pie, black eyed peas, even my mothers' beloved rutabaga. Yet I kept coming back to the basics. I love the flavor of a good turkey, especially slathered with an amazing gravy made from its own juices. The rich saltiness of the gravy goes so well with the meaty texture and flavor of the turkey. Especially with a kick of spicy-tart cranberry sauce on the side. None of that horrid canned stuff for us. No, I get fresh (as much as I am able) berries and cook them with a cinnamon stick, some cloves, and orange or pineapple juice as a sweetener to counter the sheer tartness of the cranberries. Let it simmer for a while for the flavors to marry and it is the ultimate partner in my turkey-gravy-berry trio.

I then look toward the sweet potato for my next hit. And Yes, I think food can be a drug, and I am totally addicted to the exquisite flavors of a fantastic meal! This isn't the sweet potato casserole with marshmallows floating on top like some fruity tropical drink stuffed with 16 umbrellas, sprigs of mint, celery, and seven fancy swizzle sticks that I make. I prefer the simple baked sweet potato with pastured butter on top, and a pinch of salt. Sweet potatoes and yams are already naturally sweet, so why add the cloying stickiness of commercial marshmallows to them? I can't think of too many other foods that are more revolting. I would personally rather eat fried crickets than the sweet potato/marshmallow sludge. I like the contrast of the earthy sweetness of the potato to the salt and creamy butter. It makes me feel grounded and whole.

Speaking of feeling grounded, I think pumpkin pie (homemade, of course) deserves a spot at the table. I have tried pecan pie, even a chocolate version which was amazing, yet it wasn't quite the same. The best pumpkin pie is consumed about a day after it is made, to allow the flavors to fully generate. I am a crust lover, preferring mine deeply tanned, while Greg loves his custard. Together we leave not a crumb behind. I would love to add a tart cherry pie this year, but sadly they are not available. It would be a spectacular counterpoint to the meal. At last, this is the majority of what we are having. My in-laws have ordered stuffing and carrot casserole from Furr's Cafeteria (*shudder*). Greg has convinced me to make a healthier and better tasting version of the carrots, so I will add that to the list. I may even whip up a few white potatoes for them (we eat them maybe twice a year), but again I may not. Now all I need is a bottle (or two!) of wine and we will be set! Too bad the in-laws don't drink. Oh wait, that means more wine for me, Hooray!!

Leading Up To The Holidays, I Feel Like Crap

Have I mentioned yet I feel conflicted about the holidays? Even just typing the word "holidays" gives me the hives. I'm not really sure why. I don't remember any particular even that made me feel like I wanted to avoid family gatherings. Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family when I was young was fairly happy. We had traditional foods we ate, holiday traditions we followed, etc.

Yet here I am, getting ready to start our own holiday traditions. Tomorrow (or the next day) we plan on butchering two of our turkeys, one for us and one for a neighbor. After that I will get going on baking pies and preparing whatever else I can to save myself time on "the big day". I truly love cooking and baking, especially for people I care about. I don't mind hanging out with family, and I enjoy seeing friends and family that I haven't seen in a year or longer.

I think that what makes me uncomfortable and sad this time of year is the reminder that we aren't where we really want to be. We have no comfortable home to call our own. We have no land to truly grow our own food and raise our animals. My family is spread across the nation (well, the world really), and none are likely to visit any time soon. I feel sad that I can't give my family the place I would like to, but I can at least try to feed them in a fabulous fashion, with quality food. So, I will prep our turkey, and cook our sweet potatoes, and boil up some cranberries with honey (or something else sweet). I will love my children and husband, and hug them often. And I will try to keep my sadness and disappointment to myself.

Random Number Generators

When you have more than one child, disputes between them are like the ocean tides. They rise and fall according to the arcane pull of the moon, with the random tsunami generated by subterranean forces. Our family seems to be a fairly active planet in that regard. While some of these arguments are fueled by hunger or an inability to express their emotions (or overexcitabilities, or being tired, or too much sugar), some are simply the push and pull of siblings trying to work out their hierarchy and relationships. I say simply not in any demeaning or offhanded fashion. I have a sibling (older, as it happens) so I understand how intense these fights can seem, especially when you are in the middle of one.

Oftentimes, these arguments appear as the most ridiculous and inane issue to argue about (from the perspective of an adult who is often bone tired of listening to bickering for 3 straight hours). Who gets to sit in the favored spot at the table next to the wall where they can see the TV playing in the other room. Who gets to sit at the faucet end of the bathtub. Who is getting the tape off the shelf, or who is going to grab the oatmeal from the pantry first. Tears usually ensue from the loser of the argument. Sometimes from the winner as well as the loser retaliates.

We finally hit upon a couple of pretty fair ways to resolve these disputes, that the kids have accepted as the final decision makers in many of these situations. First we have the old favorite of rock, paper, scissor. After many "rock" ties, somebody usually slips up and does paper or scissors. Usually by this time the frayed nerves have given way to the thrill of the game so the intensity of the argument is dispelled.

Our other tool has become the random number generator. It can be as simple as a roll of the dice to as complicated as a random number generating app. The kiddos seem to prefer the latter option, as Greg now has TWO of them installed on his phone. It is an awesome thing to see the anger and frustration fade into delight and laughter. I really ought to put one onto my phone as well for the inevitable pull of the tides.

Obviously there can be many more creative solutions to the bickering, but these are two that have consistently worked for us lately. What creative solutions have you come up with? I would love to have more ideas for when I am fresh out of them.

Can I Meet A Normal 5-Year Old, Please? Anyone?

One of the problems of having children who might be considered "gifted" (a term I am not terribly comfortable with using, but seems to be an accurate description) is the disparity between a child's physical and intellectual growth and their emotional and social development. Termed "asynchrony" it pretty much sums up what I bang my head against all day long. Kids that are really smart, well beyond their physical years, having massive tantrums that are totally appropriate for a much younger child because they did not get to have something "right now".

I am copying this brief quote from the Hoagies' Gifted Education page, because it is just so...my children. I should note, this description fit myself and my husband as well when we were children. Educators and Parents had other, less pleasant words for it: difficult, anti-social, disruptive, non-conformist, Bah! Too many negative words, that I heard all to often. I don't want to put those words on my children, yet they can both be so frustrating to deal with at times, that I fear I may use them anyways.

"The Gifted Child.  No individual can be more exhilarating, or more frustrating. The parents and teachers who deal with these wonderful children can often be described in a single word: Exhausted. The gifted child can speak as an adult one minute, comparing the emotional relationships in Les Mis with relationships in her own life, or discussing potential conflicts between evolution and the bible, and in the next minute throw an impressive tantrum because she didn't get what she wanted... right now! She can have you in awe of her theories on accelerated space travel, or pulling your hair out in frustration over her argumentative refusal to do her part in everyday chores. "

I have very few "normal" three or five-year olds to compare them to. I suppose if they were in formal public schooling we would be able to see the differences more clearly. However, these are the two best examples that we have! It is also more frustrating remembering my own childhood and where my parents made choices that were not the most helpful for me in the long run. That is one of the reasons we chose to homeschool - I think they will have a better and stronger learning experience with us. I feel that public school would completely kill their natural curiosity and desire to learn like it has with so many other children.

Yet I don't feel I really need the comparison except when I start feeling depressed or stressed about their behavior or what they are learning (or not). I know they are intelligent people, that they have feelings that can easily be trod upon, and that there is a core of determination that I want to encourage even when it is the same quality that drives me mad because she won't go to the bedroom because her behavior is currently unacceptable to be around other feeling, sentient humans.

It is a frustrating world indeed, and I hope I can help them learn to navigate it a little better than I have.

Pessimism and Pride

A short post tonight. We have been watching some movies lately on Netflix, streaming them on the computer. The kids really like watching Dinosaurs (lots of National Geographic) and various Nature/Survival shows. We also watched King Corn and Food, Inc. Although we already knew a lot of what these movies talked about (CAFOs, Monsanto, the revolving door of the food industry/government), it just is such a reminder of what we find so important about food for our own family. It was frustrating to watch the shows on one level, because I feel so impotent to fight against the system as it is set up right now. Buying wholesome, organic, and REAL food for the family can be costly at times (especially for meat). Taking the time to plan healthy meals for ourselves and two growing kids takes thought and effort. Researching which animal feeds, plant seeds, etc. are going to be the best investment for our eventual self-sustaining future takes a lot of time and energy. It is exhausting work!

Then you watch movies like these and find it easy to feel sad and disheartened. Why try to fight the system when the system is regulating itself?

Yet I still hold out some sort of hope that it can all change for the better. I suppose I am an optimist at heart. I want to believe that people can actually change the system for the better by simple customer demand and desire. I want to see a day where instead of monster-sized corporate farms that spread filth, pollution, and disease like it was a desired commodity, we have a return to smaller family farms providing wholesome food to their local areas. I truly want to see that happen. But I fear that I never will. It is so easy to see how the reliance on technology to save us will probably be our downfall.

What do we do when the bounty the earth could provide us all (yes, even the current 7 BILLION of us right now)becomes so poisoned that we literally cannot sustain ourselves? It is easy to believe the science fiction writers of years past, as we see the fiction turn to fact in our daily lives. Yet I am struck with the puzzle of not only how to make this a viable change not only for my own family, but for other families as well? Do we have to start our own intentional Eco-Community to see the changes that I believe are important to our survival as a race? If he with the most money wins in this race for the feeding of American stomachs, then we must surely be the losers as we get by with a pittance of an income.

Yet I don't feel like a loser at all. I feel strong and proud that we have chickens who provide (most) of our egg needs. We have goats that give us their milk. Pigs that will eventually provide us with all the pork that we could need. We have turkeys, ducks, and chickens who feed and nourish us. We can grow a bounty of edible plants. We really want to get a few cows for milk, cheese, and beef. We are on our path to self-sustainability, even if it is only the beginning of our journey. We have gained such wisdom about ourselves and our world through this process, and the journey is far from over. Even when these movies make me sad, angry, depressed, or revolted, I still carry my inner kernel of calm, peace, and pride knowing that we are doing our best at this time to provide good, nourishing, REAL food to our family.

Maybe not as short a post as I was expecting after all.....

Too Little, But Not Too Late

Not much to say tonight. My son isn't feeling well. I am doing some online comparison shopping for tattoo machines (!!). Baked another pumpkin for pies tomorrow. Fun Times.

Strange Things Part Two

We have had a few interesting and somewhat strange things occur around here in the past week or so, and I thought it might be entertaining to document them here.

First off, on the daily rounds the kids do to check for eggs, Miss Claire found something unusual I had previously only read about. A most unusual egg....without a shell. I knew that one of our girls (a newer hen) was laying thin-shelled eggs, but this is the first time I saw one without any shell whatsoever. Of course we had to take pictures!

It is a sign of a calcium deficiency in the bird, which is usually an easy fix by adding oyster shell to their diet. Our problem? These girls free-range through the yard, so she should be getting enough calcium naturally. We also aren't positive which exact bird it is, because they roam freely, although I have narrowed it down to a likely suspect (the little Barred Rock my son likes to hold). So, I may have to try something a little different, like a container of yogurt (and hope that Miss shell-less egg layer actually eats it!). If it continues, then very likely she is destined for freezer camp.

The kiddos were utterly fascinated by it, and wanted to keep holding the extra-fragile egg. After a day or so of taking photos, careful cradling, and attempts to peer into it with a flashlight , I fed it to the pigs. Who promptly gobbled up the snack and wanted more. Typical little piggies!!

Next, was the unusual fruit occurrence.  What do you do when your husband brings you a fruit that is quite literally making its' own foam? Why, take pictures of course!! I know they could be more cleverly placed, but I was not feeling terribly creative at the moment.

Several weeks ago ( and by several I really mean almost two months) I picked up some kiwi fruit from the grocery store. Several were still quite hard, so I kept them in the fruit basket so they could ripen a little faster by staying with the apples. They even took a journey to our house for a week and back, as I kept forgetting about them. Back into their little basket, I again completely forgot about them. Until dear husband found one that was bubbling away, fermenting itself in its' own hairy little skin.

Oops. I'm happy it didn't get all mouldy at least. I think the birds (chickens, etc) were quite happy when I tossed it in the yard for them to eat. Maybe a little too happy...

Farmer Brown

I have had this post running through my head for several weeks now, and figured I should get it written down before long. It is funny how the little decisions you make along your life path can lead you to a totally unexpected place. When I was growing up, my great grandmother, Omi, used to grow her own veggies, make her own sausage, medicines, and liquor. She was born of the Volga Germans, and brought her daughter and grandchildren to this country in he 1950's. She was one tough lady (and quite crazy), but she lived a remarkable life. I wish she were alive today, because she would have been such a tremendous source of knowledge! Sadly, she died when I was in my 20's, before I was fully on this path of being self-sufficient. But I will always carry the memory of sitting in her kitchen, smelling her fabulous foods, eating her amazing desserts, and drinking her very potent cough syrups as long as I live. She planted a seed, which eventually terminated into where and what I am today.

When I was in middle and high school, there was a boy nicknamed "Farmer Brown." He was a small fellow then, quiet and pretty unassuming. Yet he had a passion for growing things. We were never really friends, but were among the same group of kids who had gone to school together since elementary school, so we knew each other well enough. I remember he once came to my house (I think he had a crush on me at the time, but I could always be wrong), and he gave me a gift of some of the peanuts he had grown. It seemed so surreal at the time, this boy farmer living in the middle of suburban Florida, with a penchant for growing crops in high school. Oh well, he is probably a corporate attorney or accountant by now. But I wanted to say thank you, Farmer Brown, for your peanuts and your strangeness way back then. I'm not sure it influenced this path I am on, but you were on my mind as part of a greater strangeness as to how one decision or piece of information can lead you on a different path than our ever expected. I really want my own farm and homestead in the woods. And I'm sorry for any teasing I did towards you. Apparently the gods have a sense of humor.

Words To Remember

There is always a certain element of danger, to me, in writing things down. Before the Internet, your deepest darkest thoughts or desires, once written down, could be discovered and used against you. Not that it was incredibly likely, mind you, but the element of danger was still there.

Today, whatever you write down is instantly made available to a whole host of people you don't even know, often from an entirely different continent, to be judged. Scary thought. I have often been hesitant to write certain things down, just because of that fact. I don't want my own words used against me, and I dislike having to defend my opinions that I held at a particular moment in time. I really don't care for conflict, unless it is of my own choosing. So with that in mind, I tend to think about what I have written before I hit the Send/Enter button.

I'm not sure exactly why I was thinking about that today, except that certain friendships (or memories of past ones) have been swirling about in my brain lately. I guess some part of me wants to have the last word, though the recipient would likely never even know it. With that in mind, I could fill the following with a tirade against those who have somehow done me wrong (or whom I have wronged), but my paranoia about the written word is getting the better of me once again.

Suffice to say that I am thinking about friends both current and past. Right now one is struggling with an illness that may take her from us. While I feel strongly that she still has much left undone, my gut feeling is that she will find her way to he next journey all too soon. I have learned to trust those gut feelings, if only because they have rarely steered me wrong, but here are times when they have turned out to be unfounded. I hope that this is one of those times. Keep on fitting, my friend, we all want you to stay rooted to this plane for a while longer.

Fear and Something Else to do with Fathers

Right now I am lying in bed as I type this, trying to figure out a cohesive way to write what is on my mind. It probably won't happen, but here it is for better or worse. I apologize if it is a  random train of thought.

Tomorrow morning at 7:30am EST my father heads in for surgery to repair a damaged vertebrae (C5) in his neck. It is the first of at least two major surgeries, and could take two days to accomplish. Why so long? Well, he also has a rare bone tumor that has destroyed that vertebrae as well as encapsulated a major artery to the brain and is impinging on several other nearby structures. Like his esophagus. His vocal cords. Oh, and a whole mess of nerves that lead to his arms. Oh, and he has osteoporosis to top it off.

This egg-sized tumor is called a Chordoma, and has been growing there since, well, probably since before he was born. The theories are that something went wonky in the bone cells as he was developing and they just kept growing, albeit very slowly. Tumors like these are incredibly rare; in the US, only 300 people a year are diagnosed with them. Having a rare bone cancer is bad enough, but this is the rarest of he bone cancers. Chordomas also are usually found at either end of the spinal column, not along the neck like his. Go figure. Seems pretty typical for the family though. We seem prone to living "interesting" lives.

The first surgery is to repair his vertebrae so it doesn't break and leave him worse off (either paralyzed or, well, dead). The plan at the moment is to fuse C2-C7 (his whole neck) and possibly down to T2. Plus add several rods for strength. And a bone graft from his hip to boot. This might take 2 days depending on how things go during the operation, as there is always a certain amount of unpredictability here. Did I mention that he has a team of, I believe, 8 different doctors? He has a lot of confidence in them, so I have to trust his feelings on it. I would like to be there for additional moral support, but we just can't swing a trip across the country for potentially several months right now. So it falls to my mom and sister to be his support. I wish we could be there though. The second (or third) surgery will be to actually remove the tumor. Then after a short recovery, five MORE weeks of radiation. Then lots of physical therapy since he won't be able to turn his head, and hopefully he WILL be able to play music again.

My father is an excellent musician. Growing up, we were surrounded with music and art (my mom is an artist), and we learned to play different instruments from a young age. While I don't play like I used too (I really miss playing piano and other instruments), I still have a love for music. It really speaks to my soul, and has the ability to completely change my moods. I would be terribly sad if he could not play again (as would he, obviously!)

I have so much more on the subject to say, but I am getting tired, and tomorrow will be a stressful enough day as it is that I really need some sleep. Plus some quality cuddling time with my fabulous husband while the kids are snoozing.

Do I dare write down my worries? If I acknowledge my fears, does that give them more power to actually happen? There is power in giving things a name, but who will that power best serve? I am afraid of losing my dad. We have finally become much closer after years of being somewhat aloof. And I would hate for all those amazing experiences he had as a child/teen to be lost since he is the repository of so much family history. I want him to play mandolin to my children and tell them of his boyhood, and escaping the Nazi as they swept through Hungary. Be strong Papa, we aren't done with you yet. We love you.

Another Holiday Gone...

Another holiday has come and gone. Happy Thanksgiving. I'm actually feeling somewhat sad today. Granted, we are staying with the in-laws, so it isn't as though we are without family. I am just missing my own family right now. Last night we drove from our house in the city to the semi-rural place my husbands' parents own. Through a snow and ice storm with an antique armoire in the bed of the truck, which was packed to the gills.

I did get a few nice sunset photos, although they don't do justice to the real thing.

It wasn't as bad as some storms we have driven through. The snow was light while the winds were only at about 20 mph. The road was pretty icy and the temperature was 6 degrees. Somehow it seemed like it wasn't too bad for all that. No sliding on the black ice, no wrecks to navigate around, no drifts of snow across the highway. We all made it in one piece (as did the armoire), unpacked, and collapsed into bed.

I really enjoy cooking, if you didn't already know. Normally, we would cook a great mealk at home, with one of the family members present (for the last few years it has been my sister). We would bake, and have a relaxing day with food, family, and the craziness that the kids bring naturally. This year was already going to be different though. Since we are trying to move forward with slowly packing the house so we can sell it and staying with the in-laws for the majority of the time we would not be hosting this year. This past Monday we had to travel to the house so that Greg could have a hole in the roof of his mouth fixed (a pretty painful surgery, and maybe a story for another day), and Tuesday Claire was going to have a cavity filled. We were planning to come back Wednesday. Since there would really not be enough time for us to cook a great meal, we went with Plan B: Let my IL's order from the place they usually do for the holiday, a cafeteria-style chain. We decided it was worth not having the stress of cooking and baking especially since we would be travelling, and would just deal with the foods that aren't really on our diet anymore. I also thought I would just run to the store the day after we got back to pick up some sweet potatoes/yams and cranberries so we could at least have some good side dishes that we all liked.

About halfway here, I realized that that the day after we returned would be THANKGIVING. It seems that my grand plans to supplement our meal were foiled by my own distractions with our most recent trip. No way I was going to the store this morning and dealing with the hordes of crazy people buying last minute groceries. Yuck.

This morning it was 10 degrees out as we milked Alice and took care of the goats. I took some photos, but they don't quite convey the cold.

I spent some time talking to my family this morning when the in-laws went to pick up our meal. I feel somewhat adrift already, with the house being so unsettled, but especially with not seeing anyone from my family since February. We try to visit a few times every year, but this year has been especially bad for that. My father was diagnosed with a very rare bone cancer called a Chordoma in April (he has been unwell since March or so). Since then, he has been trying to seek the appropriate treatment which has been a challenge. After many months of dealing with insurance, etc. he is finally getting the treatment he needs. He just finished an intense course of radiation, and the surgery to repair his neck (one vertebrae is entirely gone, and several others are very weak) is scheduled for Tuesday. Less then a week later is the surgery to remove the tumor. Both are pretty dangerous, since the tumor has taken over a vertebrae, a major artery to the brain, and who knows what other structures.

He has been staying with my sister during radiation treatment, across the country from where he and my mom live, since that is where one of the major centers to deal with Chordomas is (in Boston). My mom is travelling tomorrow to be there for the surgery. Which leaves me and my little family here. Not being able to be there for support and to spend time together. Hence, my sadness.

In the Thick of Things

I admit it. I have a hard time with beginnings. Especially with creative ones, unless they come to me as fully dressed ideas ready to stand on their own. So here I am trying to come up with a grand beginning, a catch that will keep my audience not only interested, but coming back for more. If I were writing for myself (which on some ways I am, obviously), I would appeal to my own curiosity about what was to happen next.

Life in our family is never dull. Which is a blessing for me since I get bored easily unless something interesting is going on. With two young children around, the chances of something interesting occurring increases logarithmically. I suppose that is one of the reasons I decided to try writing this blog, as a way to document the riotous goings-on of our family, and the paths we are following. There is no telling how this story will end, but it sure will be an interesting journey!

Speaking of family, I should introduce us at some point. For the sake of our privacy, I will change our names. We are rather protective of our privacy around here, but I believe it is also important to get acquainted. My creative and strong hubby you can call Greg, and my children will be known as Claire and Jacob. They are 4.5 and 2 years old, respectively. As for me, you can call me Heidi.
It is a pleasure to meet you.

Our journey so far: This last year has been a fairly momentous one. For years we have been your average city dwellers, owning our suburban home, taking things day by day. Tying to make a positive difference in our community and teaching our lids to respect life. We always planned on finding a bit of property in the mountains, building our own home, and raising our children to respect the earth, have a light footprint, and give back to the community. Life often gives you opportunities, and it is up to you to take them even if the possibilities scare the crap out of you! So here we are. Trying to find our place to plant our roots, but at least partly out of suburbia. Want to buy a nice home? We have one for you...
Our path has taken an unexpected yet thoughtfully considered jog this fall to staying at my in-laws home while we try to pack up and sell our own. With our cats, dogs, and kids in tow we are here for the moment. If all goes well, we will find that property soon. Yet as I said before, life around here is always interesting and I am still not sure how we will make that next transition. But that is the topic for another time.
Mysterious enough? Too mysterious? I never claimed to be the best at storytelling, but I hope you are still interested.