Jonadab's First Birthday

My baby is one today. Such a joyful day here, two weeks in Virginia. He is a happy sweetie, beloved of all who see him. Dennis took him in the pool today. He even dunked him, and the baby (after a brief crying spell) played happily apart from me for some time.

The boys all played happily today. I don’t think they had one fight. Jadon worked on his book of riddles, which he finished (“My goal was to finish by Jonadab’s birthday—and I did!”) while Isaiah and Abraham played. Then Isaiah worked on a puzzle book while Jadon and Abraham played. They loved their cars in the gravel. They also became filthy dirty.


I unloaded many of the boxes under the tarp. Many of them were soaked, especially on the downhill side. Incredibly, though, despite all the standing water, as far as I can tell, nothing is truly damaged. The bullets were in bubble wrap; a box with documents had sweaters packed on the downhill side; a box of rummel had, strangely, nothing really touching the downhill edge. It was like a little kiss from God to see box after box that should have been ruined and wasn’t.

It was fulfilling, too, to move out of the tent and into our trailer-house. The mats and sleeping bags all fit in the little closet, so I think that will be their permanent staying place.

I tried to make out my order for apple trees, after walking around the upper acres and thinking and praying. I have a good idea where a pond should go above the homestead site, and where a root cellar should go. I think the northern side of the property is more suitable for growing, and less so for water or such. My order, on paper, came to 600 trees exactly, but then I read that it is best to wait two years to build up the soil. That would be six years before a crop (at least), so I need to think and pray about that some more. And I will talk to Jon at International Ag Labs when he gets back from an African missions trip on Tuesday. May the Lord grant wisdom, as I need it sorely.

By 3pm we were filthy and hot. I’ve been surprised by the weather: it was misty and chilly when we woke this morning, and the sun didn’t burn through until about 2pm. But when it burned through, it was 90 and humid—phew! The boys were happy to go to the Bessettes and swim (well, not Abraham, who was so incredibly filthy that you could hardly recognize him. He looked in the mirror and immediately turned away because I think he scared himself!). I helped harvest some beans and tomatoes with Michelle, and then they went to church. I weeded her garden a bit (not that she will be able to tell, necessarily; I started in the easy, not-very-weedy section and was overwhelmed with the hard sections), then watched Faith Like Potatoes. I think I read the book, which I’m guessing was not very well written because I don’t really remember the book well. But the movie really touched me, especially today.

I realized in the night two things: first, that I’ve been getting too much sleep, and that is why I keep awaking in the night. Second, that I have my trust in Phil’s retirement, and that I think God wants to strip my dependence on that. I have to be reminded again that the goal is not to make Amy Lykosh a wealthy woman with lots and lots of shrewd business deals and investments; the goal is to make Amy Lykosh faithful and full of faith in an omnipotent God. And while I would like to be debt free and have everything just peachy, that’s God’s purview, not mine. This movie was basically preaching the same thing.

Last night we went to the Historical Museum. They had about six different farms from different eras and different places. It was amazing to see how little the 1740s settlers in America had, and amazing to see how long a process it was to make flax ready for weaving. The textile industry was a very slow one. I think, as much as the agrarian life appeals to me, seeing the very impoverished conditions they lived in, I am not really ready to return to those days. It was a good reminder not to look back with rose-colored glasses. (Or, as Tamara would say, “There’s a reason people try to leave subsistence farming!”)

Some impressions after two weeks here in Virginia
*I love it here. I love the people. I love the land. I love driving through the green light with the trees on either side. I love that it feels like home, in a way that Boulder did not.

*I went to look for receipts that I had thrown away in a pile of papers I plan to use for a lasagna bed. There was a large beetle-like creature with wings (maybe an inch long), and another one without. I got a glass jar and discovered that the latter was just the exoskeleton. So neat!

*When going down to my stove to cook breakfast one morning, I looked down to see a four inch long millipede. Good morning!

*Some days I walk into the woodland glade and a butterfly flickers by my head, a sign of peace and rest.

*I debate whether the best name for the farm is “Lavish Abundance” or “Rest and Be Thankful” or something else.

*I planted the pussy willow cuttings from my mother (that sat in a vase for three months until they were moldy and nasty on the bottom, then moved them across the country in a wet paper towel that dried at some point) in a beautiful mound in the woods, where the dappled sunlight hits them. I think they will live, and may the Lord grant that they offer pollen to the bees in early spring, when the bees are so desperately hungry.

*Michelle has some supersweet little yellow tomatoes that volunteered in her garden this year. I eat and eat and eat them, so sweet they are almost like grapes. I bet if I dried them, they would be like raisins.

*The fireflies light the woods and, a bit later, across the meadow. I catch one for the first time since childhood, and then Jadon and Isaiah catch one, also.

*Abraham runs around with his “stick gun” saying in a funny voice, “Hands up, Chickanees! Hands up, pooly! Hands up, housey!” The Bessettes find this endlessly entertaining.

*We read Holes before bed. Abraham sets me straight: “Mr. Sir drives the truck.” He’s right. He’s three.

*Jadon plays cars with Abraham. When he stops for a bit, Abraham says, “Jadon, are you going to play more cars with me?” Such a “brothers dwell together in unity” moment. After two weeks, Michelle comments that Jadon seems happier. I know that, compared with last year, and even the stress of living in a “for sale” home, I am yelling less and having a happier time.

*After leaving the Historical Museum, both Zach and Doug call to check up on me, to make sure I made it home safely.

*I expected the humidity to drive me into despair. Surprisingly, I find it manageable. And if I get too hot, I head to a home with A/C.

*We really have no complaints.