The Month of July

In the last twenty-five days:

Phil has been sick five of them. One Virginia friend said, "That's the just the air here. There is something pollinating twelve months of the year; the allergens never stop." If that's the case, I'm not sure what we can do to help him, if anything.

We watched the semi-final between the Netherlands and Argentina, when the Dutch lost in the penalty kicks at the end. And then we watched the whole final, and rejoiced when Germany won.

We've had a marvelous run of friends and fellowship. Four friends came to visit one-on-one; we hosted one large group party, one baby shower, one good-bye dinner; Phil had two visits with friends in town over coffee; I cooked a couple meals for an out of town group; and we went to another good-bye party. This besides church and community group. It's been fun.

The blackberries we planted in the greenhouse (that have since run riot) have started to ripen. I can pick a gallon for the freezer and still have some left over for a buckle or just eating.

I've practiced the flute all days but two. It's a fun challenge to see how much I can regain skills I had in high school and college. I am enjoying letting the flute sing for me, and enjoying the challenge to my fingers as I work through exercises. I'm not sure what to do after I get through the first practice book: after that I should work on my repertoire, and I probably will need a teacher for that, should I choose to continue. We'll see!

Phil and the boys built two planter boxes. And I haven't planted anything yet.

Phil and I went through our four deep freezes and took inventory. I was glad he was there, because the freezer with pork had frozen into a solid mass. Phil hacked it out over the course of a half hour, and my entire sink is now thawing a massive quantity of pork. I will probably grind it up into sausage and call it good. Oh—and I finally decided I never actually want to make stock with chicken feet, so I threw away the fifteen gallon Ziplocs I had accumulated over the last five years. That freed up some space!

Caleb took his first step, on his nine month birthday. Two weeks later, he started to take multiple steps, multiple times. He had a fever and has more teeth. He is starting to understand the word, "No!" He has an astonishing appetite. And he uses the toilet about 80% of the time, which I think more than adequate for someone who has no words.

Can't Get Enough of Friends

We had such a lovely week. A friend came on Monday to help Phil preg-check some cows. He stayed maybe seven hours.

Two friends came on Tuesday to help Phil tag cows. They stayed for four hours.

Wednesday Phil had his Bible study in town that he loves.

Thursday we had Bible study at a friend's house.

Friday I went to dinner up in town with two friends. We had a lovely four and a half hour visit. Soul-satisfying.

Saturday we had a friend cancel on us, due to the flu, but we had a party to go to in the evening, so we still had four hours or so of friend time.

And Sunday we went to a restaurant after church to watch the World Cup match between the Netherlands and Mexico. We wanted the Netherlands to win, but that was a pretty brutal way to do so. (I got to watch the goalie Ochoa in action, though, so it was still a win for me.) And then we all sat and talked until 3:15pm. The boys are so good. They watched the game, sat quietly, went to the car, and generally got along well.

So, from a people standpoint, we are doing fabulously.

From a work standpoint, life goes on. The boys are doing some schoolwork again. Phil used his new mower (only broke one of the blades thus far; based on how rough the mowing sounded, I'm surprised any part of it still works). Caleb has turned out to be a true water baby: he will sit in the tub and splash and laugh. I think maybe Jadon and Isaiah did that, but the next two had a strong aversion to water, so it is fun to have a tub for him to splash in.

People comment on Caleb's happy demeanor wherever we go: "I've never seen such a happy baby!" With two parents and four older brothers to smile at him all the time, no wonder.

Two Weeks Later

The boys and I were planning to fly to Colorado during the night of June 8, but due to weather, we would have missed our connection. So we went home from the airport and spent Sunday and Monday nights in our own bed, and flew out very early Tuesday. It was about 3:30am when we left the house, which put us to Denver just after 9am. Crazy!

While Phil moved cows and worked, I shopped and visited and talked. The boys played with their cousins and went to the pool. We also hit a zoo that breeds giraffes (some boys fed them). Isaiah fed an elephant. We went to a butterfly pavilion and held a tarantula. I put Jamberry wraps on my nails, which, a week later, still feels exceptionally glamorous. The Botanic Gardens has an installation of glass sculptor Chihuly's work ... that was a highlight. Stunning.

The boys and I returned without issue last Wednesday, and we've been getting back into the swing of life. We finished the ten-book Squire's Tale series. We miss it. We watched Fiddler on the Roof with friends last week. Fun, but long. We enjoyed our community group after church yesterday for almost six hours.

I went running with new trail shoes on Friday and Saturday last week, but both times I had dogs run with me part of the way (one stepped on the back of my shoe, so they don't keep their distance). Since Isaiah was bit by a dog last year, I have some fear built in to that. Caleb has to be asleep, and I need to go before it's too hot. This morning, he woke before 6am and didn't fall asleep for hours, so I didn't go running.

I was proud of myself, though, to go about two miles the first day (and maybe the second, too, but in a different direction).

I also picked up the flute again. Abraham said today, "You are better at the flute than the piano." True. It is fun to start at the beginning of one of my lesson books and work my way through as quickly and well as I can. Will I keep it up long term? Who knows? It is easier to store a flute than a cello in the space we have. And I own a flute, and not a cello.

This feels a bit like a season of reinventing myself, or at least testing out the various pieces of who I have been. I ran in high school, and Phil and I would go running pre-children. Do I still like to run, enough to keep doing it? We shall see. Do I want to play the piano? The flute? Both, long term? Neither?

In farm related news, Phil called the butcher last week, and the earliest we can bring some cows for processing is at the end of August. It is going to be an expensive summer and winter for feed. Again. And we had another calf born, so we are up to 23 animals, on land that can probably support about six without buying lots of hay.

Our tractor's mower has not been working well for quite some time. To repair it would have cost almost $1000. Phil found a used mower for a good bit less than that. He is so happy to have the appropriate tools to keep up the property.

That's not a lot to report on two weeks, but it covers the high points, I think.

Pentecost

Friday and Saturday my Mom was speaking at a homeschool convention. The boys and I read much of Friday. Saturday Phil did clean up around the farm, including commandeering Isaiah to help him drive the truck up the driveway (Phil was in the truck and Isaiah was in the tractor behind, pushing). He moved the chicken pen out of the greenhouse and mowed down the weeds around it. Overall, the place looks good.

Saturday night was a Pentecost Party. I so enjoyed our Good Friday time, we had one to celebrate the work of the Spirit among us. We had two talented guitarists play some of my favorite music, and the voices of the 20 guests and seven Lykoshes: what a beautiful, rich sound in the space. We read the story in Acts 2, where the nations whose languages were dispersed at Babel all hear the good news of Jesus in their own languages. And more than half shared something that God had done: a way the Holy Spirit brought comfort, or healing, or direction, or peace, or right focus.

It was a rich, beautiful time. And then Phil fired up the camp stove and we roasted marshmallows and made s'mores. (We were prepared to have a big bonfire and roast marshmallows, but the group was smallish, and the camp stove convenient.)

I haven't had a s'more in twelve years or more. They were just as rich as I remembered. I cannot imagine wanting more than one. Phew! Sugar high!

We had a long time of fellowship after that, so the entire party started at 7pm (though only one person was on time; our friends roll a little late, and that's fine) and ended six hours later.

And there was great rejoicing!

Visiting

Early in the week, Phil decided to be done milking. The two cows were grazing ever farther afield, growing ever more unwilling to reach the grazing shed, and giving ever less milk. At a half gallon for two cows, it was time to be done.

Tuesday saw Phil unchanged in sickness, completely debilitated. My Dad had appointments all day, so Mom and I went up to the Build-a-Bear store to get Abraham's birthday present: a new bear and outfit. Joe came, too, for the experience. And Caleb came.

Caleb is a funny baby. He would see Joe's dog and grab it with both arms and hold on. So I decided to get him one, too. We would hold up two bears and he would reach for one. It was interesting to watch: he showed definite preferences. And when he finally got his stuffed lamb, oh the tears if the lamb dropped to the ground.

While at the mall, I went shopping a bit, too. I got one blouse, one pair of jeans, and one pair of shorts. Feeling good!

And I picked up two pairs of shorts and a pair of jeans for all boys. They get through those more rapidly than I would like, but they're boys. It's okay.

Four stores done, we headed to Whole Foods for chips for lunch, then to World Market for a basket to hold trash, and to a craft store for an inner pillow. (My parents had brought me a lovely blue silk accent pillow case from Thailand, but I had never bought the pillow for it.) My loveseat looks so fancy now!

And we returned home, having spent three hours in seven stores, and purchased something in every place. The post office, on the way, also had some packages, so it felt like we returned laden.

Wednesday and Thursday my Mom and I cleaned out the white barn. I shudder to think how long this project would have taken me on my own. It maybe would have been the impossible dream. Not only was it hours both days, but I could hand things up and she would put them in the pile to be burned, or carry them to the house, or otherwise deal with them, and I would keep making decisions. If I had to do the deciding, and the running, and then deal with the ramifications of all the cleaning, I don't think I could have. (I had jars of fermented vegetables from 2011. Some were okay, and some were not, but, really? Three year old vegetables? The lids were almost impossible to remove!)

Occasionally we would talk through something. I moved a container of carob from Colorado. I don't like carob. It was time to get rid of it, but I needed permission or something. ("Everyone has clothes in their closet that they shouldn't have bought.") The tortilla press I bought with birthday money but used once: give it away!

Phil worked in the office, and also spent time mowing in the orchard. Now that it is all mowed down, it looks lovely.

He also spent almost all of Thursday afternoon and evening moving cows to the lower pasture. He put up T-posts and ran permanent wire, in hopes that that move will not take so long in the future.

He was so incredibly sore the next day! It's been a long time since he's had to do hours of physical labor. And pounding 45 T-posts is hard work.

Birthdays

Saturday a week ago, I went to a baby shower for friends. What a blessing, to talk and laugh for four hours or so.

Sunday a week ago, Phil started to feel a little under the weather. He went to a homeopath while in Colorado, and we weren't sure if he was catching what Joe caught, or something from travel, or if he ate something that gave him a migraine ... it was a bit mysterious. But he hung in there for our friend's birthday, that we celebrated for eight hours (with some Bible study thrown in). The line that resonates for me from that day was, as I understand it, a quote from a Roman Caesar: “Christians rise before dawn and pray to Jesus as if he were a god.”

By Monday, Phil was in bad shape. He had an engineering deadline that he had to meet, but he could hardly manage. He did what he could and then he went to bed.

Jadon celebrated his birthday that day. He had a great day. We usually open some presents first thing, so the birthday boy gets to enjoy what he has on his birthday.

He also had a pleasant treat, in that my parents arrived, too. Games of strategy with Grandpa, talking to Grandma ... they had a good day.

And for dinner, we had a party so my parents could meet my closest friends here. We had a beautiful time of sharing late into the night.

Not Much of Interest Happening Here

Phil runs errands, moves cows, and does deskwork.

I work, cook, and read to the boys. We hit 200 pages one day, and since often each page takes about two minutes to read, we did little that day except read. I'm okay with that.

But it doesn't make for much to write about. At least, not in this journal.

Blessed With Visitors

After our week apart, Phil and I spent hours catching up on Saturday morning. Then he went out to do a few hours of mowing and then I had a close friend from high school and her husband come and visit. She's a tenure track professor at a small liberal arts college only about 75 minutes away, and Phil and I both enjoyed their visit very much. They stayed five and a half hours, and when they left, we felt a little like, "Oh, we've just scratched the surface!"

Joe had been utterly wiped out on Saturday, and spent the day sleeping. Sunday morning, he was still down for the count and Isaiah was feeling off, too, so Phil stayed home from church. That was actually pretty good, because we had two parties planned for the afternoon, and he needed to do some maintenance on the grill, and generally get the exterior picked up a little more.

I was so gratified to write a poem or two, make two loaves of bread, make a triple recipe pot of soup, and get two sheet cakes baked before three of the boys and I left for church.

And I was even more gratified to read one of my poems, "Scorn," during worship. In our church's progress through the book of Luke, we have reached the Last Supper, and the songs were mostly about the crucifixion, so the poem fit well. And I had no microphone trouble, so that was a relief. (On the way to church, I had to pray through that, though. I had two bad microphone experiences as a child, and the idea of having it squawk at me, or not turn on, made me feel a bit anxious. No need, though!)

After service, we headed home. I made some more bread, expanded the pot of soup, and then welcomed the guests for the first party of the day. Because Charlottesville has a very transient community, we said goodbye to one of our friends in the law school. We had soup and salad and thirteen adults fit around our table and had a time of prayer and thankfulness. It was exactly what we wanted for her.

As we finished praying, we had three more guests arrive as a transitional party, and then more guests trickled in. A few years ago, Phil led a community group at this family's house, and Phil has done Bible study with the man for a year or two now. After five years in Charlottesville, the army is making them move on, and the church family will miss them. We had a blow out picnic, with just short of 80 people coming down (including lots and lots of children and babies). Pot luck, hot dogs, an extended time of prayer ... it was beautiful. It was exactly what we wanted for them.

And so we had nine hours more of most excellent fellowship and blessing. There were children in the sand pile, children in the playroom, children on the trampoline, children hiking to the creek, children nursing in the living room.

One sweet girl who had been in my Sunday school class almost two years ago now came to me and said, "The inside of your house is very nice. The outside isn't quite as finished, but I still like it." Me, too, Lily. Me, too.

We Survived a Week On Our Own

Phil was out of town last week. I had such wonderful support from my friends: one came down on Wednesday, another on Friday; we had Bible study on Thursday. A church friend was working at the airport and helped Phil check some gear, and then made sure I had an invite to play volleyball with a group of people. Another friend was on email/text/phone support. It was, overall, a great week.

The most stressful moment for me was when I went to get the milk cows and saw that an amorous bull had joined one, and the other cow had gotten out. I thought about it for an hour, and then managed to corral the cow all by myself, without any real fear. And without tangling the electric line. I am horrible about tangling lines, so that felt like a small triumph.

In fact, it felt like such a triumph, I wandered around telling myself that I am a "woman of valor," which is, as I understand, a more proper translation of the "virtuous woman" of Proverbs 31. My friend emailed, "eshet chayil!" which was entirely perfect: woman of valor in Hebrew. I'll take props for managing cantankerous electric line any day.

Phil had a great, great week away. He had meals with different people every day, and had great times of fellowship, prayer, laughter. He saw a homeopath. He went out to do one job and ended up doing four, in that beautiful way of provision that God has.

The boys had a good week, too. Abraham learned to ride a bike (mostly).

Caleb sometimes vocalized long and loud. It's good to find a voice, though it is sometimes hard to read over it.

Isaiah made pineapple juice popsicles that were well received.

And we read several more books in our beloved Squire's Tales series. When Phil left, we had started book three, and when he came back, we were starting book six.

Acts 7 Is Amazing!

In Bible study tonight, we studied Stephen's speech to his accusers in Acts 7. This has long been a "huh?" passage for me, because Stephen tells a bunch of boring history that his accusers would have known full well, has about two verses of real zingers ("Ye stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always resist the Holy Ghost: as your fthers did, so do ye"), and then is executed by stoning.

This is actually an awesome chapter. I'm a big fan now. Basically, Stephen was accused of blasphemy against Moses, God, the holy place (or Temple) and the law.

For some of the chapter, Stephen defends himself on the grounds (literally) that God makes his holy place wherever his people are. God spoke to Abraham in Mesopotamia and Haran; to Moses in Egypt and Sinai. The Temple was made by Solomon, but God makes holy whatever place he is (such as the burning bush).

For some of the chapter, Stephen points out that though they have the law, they don't keep the law. At the beginning of the chapter, we have Abraham circumcised, but at the end, the Jews do not have circumcised hearts and ears.

And then Stephen also shows how, throughout history, the people reject the one that God has sent. Moses "supposed his brethren would have understood how that God by his hand would deliver them; but they understood not," and this continues all the way to the Just One, whom the people betrayed.

After answering so adeptly the charges placed against him, the people were so angry that they executed the man whose face was like an angel, ignoring the civil law that required the Romans to rubber stamp capital punishment, thus completely proving Stephen's point.

I've been a believer long enough, that it's not often that an entire passage goes from meh to wow, so thank you for your indulgence in my excitement.

I Try My Hand at Milking

I am finding that, mixed in with cooking for the family, or making salves, or reading to the boys, cleaning the house takes me most of Saturday. We all headed out late in the afternoon to see a ballet version of Little Red Riding Hood. We had two friends dancing in it, and dancers performed three short works. One was meant to be like a Jackson Pollock painting—it was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and I got lost in it. Amazing.

As soon as that was over, we headed up to another in town thing. A church was having a CD release party and invited our worship leader to play with them. The boys, now five hours after eating a couple of hot dogs, and pushing up against their bedtime, started to melt down, so Phil took them all to Chipotle and I stayed and sang and prayed. So we were all happy.

Perhaps Caleb is getting ready to teethe, but he is not sleeping well these days. I had less than three hours of sleep total Saturday night, but I drank part of a cup of coffee at church and was fine until about 6pm. The boys woke me after a seven minute nap.

I actually dreamed an entire poem in the middle of the night. That was very weird. I wake up with lines on my mind, and as I'm going about my day I think of new topics. Maybe I'm getting a hint of what it is like to be Abraham, with a deep desire to create. I can't say I find it entirely comfortable.

Phil showed me how to milk the cows with the milking machine. I am so not mechanically minded, it took me longer than I care to admit to get it all assembled, but I finally did. The cows must be a little hungry for alfalfa, because they hop right up into the milking stanchion for me.

Abraham went up to the road and practiced riding a bike. He and Isaiah spent several hours up there, tootling back and forth on the gravel.

And the rich green of the trees and fields screams richness. It's lovely.

A Tour: No Explanation Needed

Rain and Post-Rain

On Thursday, Phil ran errands, and by the time he was home and done with milking and such, the two inches of predicted rain had begun.

We suspect we actually had a multiple of two inches. This was no light spring mist, but a deluge. We had a friend come visit for six hours (score!) and he said there were times driving down where he could not see anything. There were times when even the trees across the clearing were hard to see. Within minutes, all the peastone outside the front door was complete covered with eroding clay.

We usually caution visitors against visiting in such rainy weather, but Phil had a good plan. Because only Jadon and Phil have good calf-high boots, we had our friend text us when he reached our road. We know it's about a ten minute drive, and so we set the timer for five minutes, then sent Jadon up with rain coat and boots. This worked well. I was glad that even in the midst of a storm, we can enjoy hospitality and fellowship.

Today the sun came out. It was gorgeous. A perfect day to jump on the trampoline (which I did for a bit). But because of the mud, it wasn't actually a great day to be outside. So we finished The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf. What a fabulous read.

Phil worked on the soffit and finally finished all the waterproofing.

That took a lot of sticky stuff!

Isaiah went around this morning and gathered all folding chairs, the table's bench, the step stool, all sleeping mats and blankets and sleeping bags, and made a fort that takes up almost the entire play room.

The boys can easily all fit, and so the four olders are having a slumber party there now.

In other news, to keep my creative output separate (is that a huge sigh of relief I hear?) I made myself a poetry blog. Feel free to visit The Hack Poetess.

Photos of Boys from the Last Few Weeks

Phil let the boys watch Independence Day one night. They've watched Star Wars, so I'm not sure why a different alien movie was so much more intense for them, but by morning, we had three boys sharing our bedroom. Caleb always does, but two larger additional brothers? No more such movies for them!

Caleb finds himself drawn irresistibly to the front entryway. Often that's fine: he chews on his brothers' flip flops and finds peastone to grasp and set down.

But one day, it had been raining, and all shoes were muddy. That wasn't the best day to taste the shoes.

Embarrassingly enough, I think that happened three times that day. (Have I mentioned how thankful I am for a washing machine on site?)

Isaiah took photos of Caleb.









And one of Jadon.

One of Joe.

And I took some photos, too.