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.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Monday, May 26, 2014
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
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.
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.
Monday, May 19, 2014
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.
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.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
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.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
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.
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.
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