Straining Onward

When Mother Reads Aloud

2010-04-12T05:00:00.000-05:00

When Mother reads aloud, the past

Seems real as every day;

I hear the tramp of armies vast,

I see the spears and lances cast,

I join the trilling fray;

Brave knights and ladies fair and proud

I meet when Mother reads aloud.

When Mother reads aloud, far lands

Seem very near and true;

I cross the desert's gleaming sands,

Or hunt the jungle's prowling bands,

Or sail the ocean blue.

Far heights, whose peaks the cold mists shroud,

I scale, when Mother reads aloud.

When Mother reads aloud, I long

For noble deeds to do -

To help the right, redress the wrong;

It seems so easy to be strong,

So simple to be true.

Oh, thick and fast the visions crowd

My eyes, when Mother reads aloud.

In the beginning.........

2010-04-10T16:05:00.006-05:00

Our studies this term are taking us into the realm of the heavens and the Lord's glorious creation therein. Last year Anna Rose memorized Psalm 19 from which comes the verse, "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge." The perfection of their rhythms, the synchronicity of their movements, the absolute artistry of form and color.....all speak of an omnipotent Designer and Creator. Step outside into the darkness tonight, lift your eyes reverently, and behold the magnificence! "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - his eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." - Romans 1:20

The Spacious Firmament on High

The spacious firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great Original proclaim.

The unwearied sun from day to day

Does his Creator's power display,

And publishes to every land

The work of the Almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,

The moon takes up the wondrous tale,

And nightly to the listening earth

Repeats the story of her birth;

Whilst all the stars that round her burn,

And all the planets in their turn,

Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence, all

Move round this dark, terrestrial ball?

What though nor real voice nor sound

Amidst their radiant orbs be found?

In Reason's ear they all rejoice,

And utter forth a glorious voice,

Forever singing as they shine:

"The hand that made us is divine!"

Joseph Addison

2010-04-07T05:00:00.001-05:00

My blog has been strangely bereft of comments lately. Was it something I said? Dear me, I know I'm not the most popular girl on the block, but ever since I began posting a verse each day in honor of National Poetry Month, I have been astounded by the silence (except for one or two poetry lovers - you know who you are).

Does anyone have a favorite poet....or poem? I confess to being partial to Robert Louis Stevenson, many of whose poems I memorized as a young girl and still remember. I suspect my elementary school teacher was fond of him as well; I have distinct memories of reciting "My Shadow" and "The Swing" aloud in class. At home we owned a very worn old copy of A Child's Garden of Verses, beautifully illustrated by Jessie Willcox Smith. Many years ago, Dwayne surprised me at Christmas with a newer copy of the book which still contained the original artwork. "Oh frabjous day! Callooh callay!" (And I truly did chortle in my joy.) Happily, Anna Rose shares my delight in his poetry, and she is well on her way to memorizing the entire book I do believe. How sweet it is to revisit my childhood through her enjoyment of these poems.

The Flowers

All the names I know from nurse:

Gardner's garters, Shepherd's purse,

Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,

And the Lady Hollyhock.

Fairy places, fairy things,

Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,

Tiny trees for tiny dames -

These must all be fairy names!

Tiny woods below whose boughs

Shady fairies weave a house;

Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,

Where the braver fairies climb!

Fair are grown-up people's trees,

But the fairest woods are these;

Where, if I were not so tall,

I should live for good and all.

Boyhood Joys

2010-04-06T05:00:00.005-05:00

The Barefoot Boy

Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy upturned pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy, -

I was once a barefoot boy!

Prince thou art, - the grown-up man

Only is republican.

Let the million-dollared ride!

Barefoot, trudging at his side,

Thou hast more than he can buy

In the reach of ear and eye, -
Outward sunshine, inward joy;

Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!

O for boyhood's painless play,

Sleep that wakes in laughing day,

Health that mocks the doctor's rules,

Knowledge never learned in schools,

Of the wild bee's morning chase,

Of the wild-flower's time and place,

Flight of fowl and habitude

Of the tenants of the wood;

How the tortoise bears his shell,

How the woodchuck digs his cell,

And the ground-mole sinks his well;

How the robin feeds her young,

How the oriole's nest is hung;

Where the whitest lilies blow,

Where the freshest berries grow,

Where the groundnut trails its vine,

Where the wood-grapes clusters shine:

Of the black wasp's cunning way,

Mason of his walls of clay,

And the architectural plans

Of gray hornet artisans! -

For, eschewing books and tasks,

Nature answers all he asks;

Hand in hand with her he walks,

Face to face with her he talks,

Part and parcel of her joy, -

Blessings on the barefoot boy!

O for boyhood's time of June,

Crowding years in one brief moon,

When all things I heard or saw,

Me, their master, waited for.

I was rich in flowers and trees,

Humming-birds and honey-bees;

For my sport the squirrel played,

Plied the snouted mole his spade;

For my taste the blackberry cone

Purpled over hedge and stone;

Laughed the brook for my delight

Through the day and through the night,

Whispering at the garden wall,

Talked with me from fall to fall;

Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,

Mine the walnut slopes beyond,

Mind, on bending orchard trees,

Apples of Hesperides!

Still as my horizon grew,

Larger grew my riches too;

All the world I saw or knew

Seemed a complex Chinese toy,

Fashioned for a barefoot boy!

O for festal dainties spread,

Like my bowl of milk and bread, -

Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,

On the door-stone, gray and rude!

O'er me like a regal tent,

Cloudy ribbed, the sunset bent,

Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,

Looped in many a wind-swung fold;

While for music came the play

Of the pied frogs' orchestra;

And to light the noisy choir,

Lit the fly his lamp of fire.

I was monarch: pomp and joy

Waited on the barefoot boy!

Cheerily, then, my little man,

Live and laugh as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew:
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt's for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil:
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

~John Greenleaf Whittier~

A frugal chariot.....

2010-04-05T05:00:00.002-05:00

There is no frigate like a book

to take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

that bears a human soul.

~Emily Dickinson~

Jesus is Risen!

2010-04-04T05:00:00.001-05:00

I know that my Redeemer lives;

What comfort this sweet sentence gives!

He lives, He lives, who once was dead;

He lives, my ever living Head.

He lives to bless me with His love,

He lives to plead for me above.

He lives my hungry soul to feed,

He lives to help me in time of need.

He lives triumphant from the grave,

He lives eternally to save,

He lives all glorious in the sky,

He lives exalted there on high.

He lives to grant me rich supply,

He lives to guide me with His eye,

He lives to comfort me when faint,

He lives to hear my soul's complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears,
He lives to wipe away my tears,
He lives to calm my troubled heart,
He lives all blessings to impart.

He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly Friend,
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while He lives, I'll sing,
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.

He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death.
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.

He lives, all glory to His name!
He lives, my Jesus, still the same.
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives,
I know that my Redeemer lives!

Spring Thaw

2010-04-03T05:00:00.000-05:00

Christina Rossetti has a special place in Anna Rose's heart.....the first verses she memorized were from 'In the Bleak Midwinter' which she recited in a Christmas pageant at church several years ago. Since then, she has learned many more poems by Rossetti, and is quite pleased to tell people that her middle name is Christina which means "follower of Christ."

Today was one of those memorable early spring days that bring us hope in the resurrection of all things. Warm, sunny, soft fresh breezes....you could almost feel the life under the soil yearning to break free. Every year we are reminded that God makes all things new and that for everything there is a season. All that Christ suffered on this day so very long ago was for a purpose.....he died to give us life. How good and full of grace is our Lord to use the season of spring to remind us of His sacrifice and promise of redemption.

The Thaw Comes

Frost-locked all the winter,

Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,

What shall make their sap ascend

That they may put forth shoots?

Tips of tender green,

Leaf, or blade, or sheath;

Telling of the hidden life

That breaks forth underneath,

Life nursed in its grave by Death.

Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,

Drips the soaking rain,

By fits looks down the waking sun:

Young grass springs on the plain,

Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;

Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,

Swollen with sap put forth their shoots;

Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane,

Birds sing and pair again.

~Christina Georgina Rossetti

Little Lamb

2010-04-02T05:00:00.002-05:00

For the next several weeks, we will be learning about William Blake. Anna Rose has committed to memory close to twenty poems, but this will be her first by Blake, an appropriate selection to meditate upon during the season in which we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior, the perfect Lamb who was slain.

For those who are interested in our methods, we simply read the poem aloud each morning, so she is hearing it and seeing it. I don't always use them for copywork, but that is another option. We also choose from her memory list to review one other poem so she doesn't forget any that she already knows. In addition to being exposed to beautiful verses, reciting them, and having them ingrained in her mind and heart, Anna Rose has also been inspired to pen her own poetry, some of which I will share in future posts.

The Lamb

Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Gave thee life, and bade thee feed

By the stream and o'er the mead;

Gave thee clothing of delight,

Softest clothing, woolly, bright;

Gave thee such a tender voice,

Making all the vales rejoice?

Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee;

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:

He is called by thy name,

For he calls himself a Lamb.

He is meek, and He is mild,

He became a little child.

I a child, and thou a lamb,

We are called by His name.

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

~William Blake~

A Prayer in Spring

2010-04-01T05:00:00.002-05:00

Did you know that April is National Poetry Month? I'm hoping to post a new poem each day. Who would like to join me?

Having recently completed a lovely six week long study of Robert Frost and his poetry, I'm going to start off with a piece he wrote which is especially suited to this time of year when we look forward to days filled with sunlight, birdsong, and apple blossoms. In this poem we are encouraged to savor the season and its daily pleasures. It reminds me that God's creation exists to glorify Him and that we who are part of it bring praises to His name when we delight in that which He has made.

A Prayer in Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain harvest; keep us here

All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,

Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;

And make us happy in the happy bees,

The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird

That suddenly above the bees is heard,

The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,

And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,

The which it is reserved for God above

To sanctify to what far ends He will,

But which it only needs that we fulfull.

~Robert Frost~

Welcome, March

2010-03-06T20:21:00.002-05:00

Dear March, come in!

How glad I am!

I looked for you before.

Put down your hat -

You must have walked -

How out of breath you are!

Dear March, how are you?

And the rest?

Did you leave Nature well?

Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,

I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the birds' -

The maples never knew

That you were coming - I declare,

How red their faces grew!

But, March, forgive me -

And all those hills -

You left for me to hue -

There was no purple suitable,

You took it all with you.

Who knocks? That April!

Lock the door!

I will not be pursued!

He stayed away a year, to call

When I am occupied.

But trifles look so trivial

As soon as you have come,

That blame is just as dear as praise

And praise as mere as blame.

~Emily Dickinson

February has come and gone for another year, and even if it weren't for the promise of spring's arrival, I would not be sad to say good-bye to the shortest month of the year. They say that March typically comes in like a lion, but we heard its roar beforehand with the advent of a destructive rainstorm complete with hurricane force winds. Trees were uprooted and thrown about like children's playthings, rooftops were torn off, roads flooded, and thousands of homes were left powerless for days.

We are still pumping water out of our basement, the result of a failing sump pump when the electricity went out. This isn't the first time, and thankfully we were able to borrow a generator to get the lights going again, but it lasted for four days. The roof experienced some damage as well, leaking through the attic into the hallway ceiling upstairs. I'm afraid we may have additional problems as the dampness is slow to recede. We have a dehumidifier in the cellar but it's really not enough.

Today we had temperatures in the 50's. Blue skies, sunshine, melting snow. Time to force some branches of forsythia, methinks. No robins in sight yet, but for several days after the storm we were treated to a huge flock of goldfinches at our seed feeders along with several male and female bluebirds who enjoyed the block of suet. To say that I am looking forward to spring is an understatement!

Kung Hai Fat Choy

2010-02-19T12:15:00.000-05:00

Come celebrate a Chinese New Year with us and enter a contest at Jimmie's Collage!

It's the year of the tiger according to the Chinese Zodiac, and Anna Rose used her drawing talents to depict the tiger in this colorful crayon illustration.

We started off with a delicious stir-fried dish composed of chicken marinated in garlic, ginger, and soy sauce, red peppers, zucchini, carrots, celery, water chestnuts, and baby corn accompanied by brown rice. Probably not exactly authentic Chinese cooking but we loved it!

Anna Rose fashioned a paper lantern. The symbol on it means "tiger" in Chinese.

Here she is painting the symbol for "happiness" on a banner which we will hang at the sides of the door.

Here is the finished product. The symbols mean "happiness" and "riches."

Anna Rose enjoyed reading several Chinese folk tales that we checked out of the library.

Her favorite was The Voice of the Great Bell by Lafcadio Hearn, retold by Margaret Hodges. "There was a little girl whose father along, with other workers, would be killed if the king's bell was not finished by the next morning. The girl wanted to save her father from death so she went to a magician and asked him what to do to save her father. The magician said that she would have to jump inside the melted gold, brass, silver, and metal. Then they would blend together and make a bell. If you want to find out what happens, you can find this book at the library." - review by Anna Rose

Here is a piece of music that Anna Rose recently learned called "Chinese Song."
(scroll down)

Thank you for stopping by to share in our celebration.

May your happiness be as wide as the East Sea!

A Memorable Story

2010-02-17T17:09:00.005-05:00

"One of the many things nobody ever tells you about middle age is that it's such a nice change from being young."

Dorothy Canfield Fisher (February 17, 1879 - November 9, 1958)

Today is Dorothy Canfield Fisher's birthday. She wrote one of my favorite children's books, Understood Betsy. Poor timid Betsy is an orphan sent to live with her "barbaric" cousins in Vermont. Coddled nearly to death by the maiden aunt with whom she had lived, she is entirely unprepared for the independence she will need to muster to adjust and thrive in this new situation. You will cheer along with Betsy as she slowly awakens to just how rich life can be, even - and maybe especially - in the simplest and most primitive setting.

If by unhappy circumstance you don't own a copy of the book, you can always read it online here, but I highly recommend buying your own copy because you will return to it again and again. You don't have to be seven, ten, or twelve years old to read Understood Betsy. I can assure you that it will bring joy to your heart - and a tear to your eye - no matter what golden age you have reached. Find a youngster with whom you can curl up on a snowy day; light the fire, share a pot of cocoa and some biscuits, and meet Betsy together. You will never forget her!

I Am Loved

2010-02-14T22:13:00.000-05:00

My heart has been lifted countless times, like discovering flowers in unexpected places, as God shows his love for me through the kind and often sacrificial deeds of others.

A friend comes to spend the afternoon, bringing her children to romp in the snow, carving time out of her busy schedule to share a cup of tea, to lighten my burdens and those she bears through heartfelt conversation and laughter.

A daughter's face, wreathed in smiles and trembling with giggles, as she presents a handmade Valentine bookmark she insists on giving three days early.

An offering of orchids that causes a gasp of delight, their delicate beauty accentuated by the calloused, hardworking hands that cradle them.

Bright mittens, knit with love by a mother's time-worn, freckled hands, fashioned stitch by stitch to warm this daughter's hands and cheer her heart on cold winter walks.

"Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth."
1 John 3:18

Refuge

2010-02-09T21:03:00.003-05:00

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things." - Philippians 4:8

Another manner in which God ministers to me is in the form of beauty. Since I am in my home most of the time, it needs to be a sanctuary of peace and comfort, a place of quiet contentment. It reminds me that He is to be our refuge from the storms of life.

If you were to visit me, you would find artwork and Scripture on the walls, small vignettes of figurines and whatnots on desks, bureaus, and bookcases, and books.....books on every conceivable surface. Doilies cover chairbacks and provide a foundation for centerpieces on each table. Everywhere you look, there is beauty to impress your sense of sight.

If you listen carefully, you may hear the pleasant strains of Bach or Mozart. Soft candlelight glows and fills the room with the comforting aroma of sweet vanilla sugar cookies. Bubbling on the stovetop may be a pot of broth, filled with nourishing vegetables or turkey with rice and mushrooms. A tray of muffins is cooling on the counter, ready to split and fill with soft butter. There is even a friendly cat or two to twine about your legs or curl up on your lap.

All these elements combine to form a warm and hospitable atmosphere that ministers to those who live here as well as those who may come to call.Do come in....I've been expecting you!

Happy Groundhog Day!

2010-02-02T10:15:00.002-05:00

The Jolly Woodchuck

The woodchuck's very very fat

But doesn't care a pin for that.

When nights are long and the snow is deep,

Down in his hole he lies asleep.

Under the earth is a warm little room

The drowsy woodchuck calls his home.

Rolls of fat and fur surround him,

With all his children curled around him,

Snout to snout and tail to tail.

He never wakes in the wildest gale;

When icicles snap and the north wind blows

He snores in his sleep and rubs his nose.

Marion Edley and Dorothy Grider

Hm, I don't think I'd mind sleeping the winter away in a warm, snug burrow while the winds of winter howled and the snow fell outside my door. Those rolls of fat, however, are another story.

Mr. Chesterton, I presume?

2010-01-25T15:45:00.006-05:00

I came upon another treat at a book sale last fall of which I had never heard. Eyes widening, glancing furtively from side to side, I scooped it up and snuggled it to my bosom with a quick intake of breath and chortle of glee. (Not that there were any other browsers in the vicinity, but you never know who may be lurking under the table at your very feet. I speak from experience!) It was not an original edition, nor was it a hardback, nor elderly, nor attractive, but its unassuming looks and poor quality were totally redeemed by the name on the cover.

Mr. Chesterton, I presume?

We own only a very small portion of his extensive collection of works: The Man Who Was Called Thursday, Orthodoxy, Charles Dickens, and a few others. (I'm too lazy to go and search the shelves; after all, we own at least two dozen and they are scattered all over the house.) Most readers are probably familiar with G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown mysteries, a set of which I am sadly lacking in my own home library. He was a genius, and one of the greatest writers of all time, in my opinion. Learn more about Gilbert Keith Chesterton here.

Back to the book.....the only remark I am going to make about it is this:

Sherlock Holmes meets Monty Python.

Now if your curiosity is peaked, consult your library, borrow it from a friend, or buy it online from Amazon, Albris, or Abebooks. It's another quick read, and you will enjoy it immensely.

Satisfaction guaranteed.

I leave you with this quote by Mr. Chesterton:

"A room without books is like a body without a soul."

First Time Read

2010-01-21T10:04:00.005-05:00

I'd seen this book on countless lists of recommended books, but had never gotten around to reading it. Last year I glimpsed a copy at a library sale and picked up it for half a dollar. It has been languishing on a shelf in my living room between Eudora Welty and Willa Cather until two nights ago when I wanted a cozy bedtime read to snuggle with under the covers.

I was envisioning a slightly romantic long-distance correspondence story. I did not expect to snicker throughout the story at Helene Hanff's biting witticisms, nor was I prepared for the poignant ending that left me on the verge of tears.

It was a quick read, taking me only two short evenings, and I closed the covers with a pang and a sigh, wishing that it could have gone on and on. Please do something nice for yourself today. Brew a strong cup of English tea, lay out a platter of shortbread, and read 84 Charing Cross Road. You will be glad you did.

The Key to Peace

2010-01-17T22:12:00.004-05:00

One of the ways that God has ministered to me is through the power of His Word. Jesus said, " I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." - John 16:33

I drink deeply from the well of His word daily.

In the midst of tribulation, Christ is the key to my peace. It is only through His power that I can receive it. Whether He calms the storm itself, or calms me within the storm, I can rest assured that He will be with me, and that there is no need to endure it on my own.

A Prisoner Yet Free

2010-01-14T08:58:00.011-05:00

A little bird I am,

Shut from the fields of air,

And in my cage I sit and sing

To Him who placed me there,

Well pleased a prisoner to be,

Because, my God, it pleases Thee.

My cage confines me round:

Abroad I cannot fly;

But, though my wing is closely bound,

My heart's at liberty.

My prison-walls cannot control

The flight, the freedom, of my soul!

~ Madame Guyon

Though the Lord has seen fit to afflict my body, in His good pleasure, my physical restrictions have not imposed similar disabilities upon my spirit.

In an upcoming post I will share how I am still able

to be a servant during this time of bodily imprisonment,

and how the Lord has ministered to me.

Pretty as a picture

2010-01-11T22:22:00.000-05:00

Anna Rose - Christmas 2009

Another Winter Picture-Book

2010-01-04T21:30:00.008-05:00

We snatch up any Mousekin books we can find at

library sales and second-hand shops.

They are all delightful, and this one is an especially cozy read:

Poor Mousekin's winter nest is blown out of the tree.

What's a poor mouse to do without a home in the cold, snowy winter?

Being a resourceful little mouse, he sets out to find a new one.

All the other woodland creatures seem to be safely tucked away,

but is there room for Mousekin to share?

We are beginning to worry about our little friend as he

encounters problems in his search for a winter hiding place.

You never know when you might run into a hungry predator!

Just when we think all is lost, the perfect solution appears.

But I don't want to give away the ending.....

you'll have to read it yourself!

What are your favorite wintertime picture books?

Unknown Waters

2010-01-01T21:30:00.006-05:00

(Arthur Elsley)

I've been contemplating the days that lie ahead in the coming year with a sense of anticipation and full assurance that whatever may transpire, not only does the Lord Almighty walk beside me, he has ordained all that will pass. Whether joy or sorrow, pleasure or penance, it has been decreed by the one who loves me best and whose word promises that it is for my good. What a sweet cushion of comfort upon which I may lay my head and rest.

(William Bouguereau )

O Lord,

Length of days does not profit me

except the days are passed in thy presence,

in thy service, to thy glory,

Give me a grace that precedes, follows, guides,

sustains, sanctifies, aids every hour,

that I may not be one moment apart from thee,

but may rely on thy Spirit

to supply every thought,

speak in every word,

direct every step,

prosper every work,

build up every mote of faith,

and give me a desire

to show forth thy praise;

testify thy love,

advance thy kingdom.

I launch my bark on the unknown waters

of this year,

with thee, O Father, as my harbour,

thee, O Son, at my helm,

thee, O Holy Spirit, filling my sails.

Guide me to heaven with my loins girt,

my lamp burning,

my ear open to thy calls,

my heart full of love,

my soul free.

Give me thy grace to sanctify me,

thy comforts to cheer,

thy wisdom to teach,

thy right hand to guide,

thy counsel to instruct,

thy law to judge,

thy presence to stabilize.

May thy fear be my awe,

thy triumphs my joy.

(from The Valley of Vision)

May we welcome all that God has planned for us this new year, being anxious for nothing, and forgetting not his benefits, most especially the Gift whose birth we have just spent a season celebrating. In that one Gift, we truly have all.

(Honthorst - Adoration of the Shepherds)

Picture-Books in Winter

2009-12-29T16:46:00.010-05:00

Jessie Willcox Smith

Summer fading, winter comes -

Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs

Window robins, winter rooks,

And the picture story-books.

-from Picture-Books in Winter by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Christmas festivities are winding down, and like furry woodland animals, we are inclined to settle down in our warm nests and stick close to home for a while. We said goodbye to our less hardy friends during the golden months of autumn, but we are of sturdy New England stock like the cardinals and bluejays who gladden the bleak days of winter with their bright colors: most likely the only ones we will see until the daffodils show their faces in April. Today was a bitterly cold blustery day, just right for curling up in a warm chimney corner with a cozy story:

Snowfall

2009-12-28T13:00:00.008-05:00

scene from my kitchen window looking toward the barn

It has been a grey and gloomy day, skies overcast since early morning. Just now it has begun to snow.....huge, soft, feathery flakes. The backyard is a picture of serenity as the trees lift their bare brown arms to collect the bounty of the skies.

Looking out through the kitchen window, I feel God's peace steal into my soul. The new year waits ahead in the shadows, yet though it beckons temptingly with its plans and possibilities, I gaze upon the white landscape and pull the cloak of here and now a bit more snugly around myself, content to tarry in today.

Snow at Louveciennes - Alfred Sisley 1875

Come Let Us Adore Him

2009-12-22T07:57:00.007-05:00

Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!

2 Corinthians 9:15

He is the image of the invisible God,

the firstborn over all creation.

For by him all things were created:

things in heaven and on earth,

visible and invisible,

whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities;

all things were created by him and for him.

He is before all things,

and in him all things hold together.

And he is the head of the body, the church;

he is the beginning and firstborn from among the dead,

so that in everything he might have the supremacy.

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him,

and through him to reconcile to himself all things,

whether things on earth or things in heaven,

by making peace through his blood,

shed on the cross.

Colossians 1:15-20

All My Heart This Night Rejoices!

2009-12-20T14:50:00.006-05:00

Correggio

Listen to this beautiful carol here.

All my heart this night rejoices

As I hear

Far and near

Sweetest angel voices,

"Christ is born," their choirs are singing

Till the air

Ev'rywhere

Now with joy is ringing.

Forth today the Conqueror goeth,

Who the foe,

Sin and woe,

Death and hell, o'erthroweth.

God is man, man to deliver;

His dear Son

Now is one

With our blood forever.

Shall we still dread God's displeasure,

Who, to save,

Freely gave

His most cherished Treasure?

To redeem us, he hath given

His own Son

From the throne

Of his might in heaven.

He becomes the Lamb that taketh

Sin away

And for aye

For our life his own he tenders;

And our race,

By his grace,

Meet for glory renders.

Hark! A voice from yonder manger,

Soft and sweet,

Doth entreat:

"Flee from woe and danger.

Brethren, from all ills that grieve you,

You are freed;

All you need

I will surely give you.

Come, then, let us hasten yonder;

Here let all,

Great and small,

Kneel in awe and wonder.

Love him who with love is yearning;

Hail the star

That from far,

Bright with hope is burning.

Dearest Lord, thee will I cherish.

Though my breath

Fail in death,

Yet I shall not perish,

But with thee abide forever

There on high,

In that joy

Which can vanish never.

Paul Gerhardt (1607-1676)

Translated by Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878)

Giveaway at Remembrance Press

2009-12-17T09:47:00.002-05:00

Ladies, here is your chance to enter for a shopping spree at Remembrance Press, publishers of the beautiful magazine, The Girlhood Home Companion. Follow the link below:

Remembrance Press giveaway

How Lovely Shines the Morning Star!

2009-12-14T20:51:00.006-05:00

An exquisite cantata by the master....Bach!

How lovely shines the Morning Star!

The nations see and hail afar

The light in Judah shining.

Thou David's son of Jacob's race,

My bridegroom and my King of grace,

For thee my heart is pining.

Lowly, holy

Great and glorious,

Thou victorious

Prince of graces,

Filling all the heav'nly places.

Now richly to my waiting heart,

O thou, my God, deign to Impart

The grace of love undying.

In thy blest body let me be,

E'en as the branch is in the tree,

Thy life my life supplying.

Sighing, crying,

For the savor

Of thy favor;

Resting never

Till I rest in thee forever.

Thou, mighty Father, in thy Son

Didst love me ere thou hadst begun

This ancient world's foundation.

Thy Son hath made a friend of me,

And when in spirit him I see,

I joy in tribulation.

What bliss is this!

He that liveth

To me giveth

Life forever,

Nothing me from him can sever.

Philipp Nicolai (1556-1608)

The Fulfillment of Our Desire

2009-12-10T22:34:00.002-05:00

The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap

His hair was like a light

O weary, weary were the world

But here is all aright

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast

His hair was like a star

O stern and cunning are the Kings

But here the true hearts are

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart

His hair was like a fire

O weary, weary is the world

But here the world's desire

The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee

His hair was like a crown

And all the flowers looked up at him

And all the stars looked down

---- G.K. Chesterton

I've tried to find this online without success but if you can locate the CD called "Hark, How the Bells" on Amazon, you will find this listed as "Christ Child Carol" performed by the UCLA Madrigal Singers. It is truly a beautiful piece of music.

Who Is He?

2009-12-08T19:44:00.002-05:00

Infinite, and an infant.

Eternal, and yet born of a woman.

Almighty, and yet hanging on a woman's breast.

Supporting a universe, and yet needing to be carried in a mother's arms.

King of angels, and yet the reputed son of Joseph.

Heir of all things, and yet the carpenter's despised son.

---- C.H. Spurgeon

The Gift

2009-12-05T22:53:00.005-05:00

Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!

2 Corinthians 9:15

This is how God showed his love among us:

He sent his one and only Son into the world

that we might live through him.

1 John 4:9

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, Heav'n cannot hold him,

Nor earth sustain;

Heav'n and earth shall flee away

When he comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty

Jesus Christ.

Enough for him, whom cherubim

Worship night and day,

A breastful of milk

And a mangerful of hay;

Enough for him, whom angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

Which adore.

What can I give him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb,

If I were a Wise Man

I would do my part, -

Yet what can I give him,

Give my heart.

--- Words: Christina Rossetti (1830-94)

Music: Harold Darke (1888-1976)

Light a few candles and meditate on our Father's perfect Gift

as you listen to another breathtaking performance

by the King's College Choir.

What love is this?

2009-12-04T22:13:00.003-05:00

In dulci jubilo

Let us our homage shew;

Our heart's joy reclineth

In praesepio

And like a bright star shineth

Matris in gremio.

Alpha es et O!

O Jesu parvule

I yearn for thee alway!

Hear me, I beseech thee,

O Puer optime!

My prayer let it reach thee,

O Princeps gloriae!

Trahe me post te!

O Nati lenitas!

Deeply we were stained

Per nostra crimina;

But thou has for us gained

Coelorum gaudia.

O that we were there!

Ubi sunt gaudia,

If that they be not there?

There are angels singing

Nova cantica,

And there the bells are ringing

In Regis curia:

O that we were there!

14th Century German carol,

translated and arranged by R.L. Pearsall (1795-1856)

Listen to this gorgeous performance by the Kings College Choir of Cambridge.

He comes......

2009-12-03T22:23:00.002-05:00

O Sovereign God!

You have humbled yourself in order to exalt us.

You became poor so that we might become rich.

You came to us so that we can come to you.

You took upon yourself our humanity in order

to raise us up into eternal life.

All this comes through your grace,

free and unmerited,

all this through your beloved Son,

our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

---- Karl Barth

Solitude, Beauty, and Creature Comforts

2009-10-03T14:49:00.002-05:00

A quiet house

A walk in the rain

Pumpkins on an old stone wall

Bright leaves on wet lawns

A friendly cat

Maple scented candles

A bowl of hot soup

A soft couch

The newest Beatrix Potter mystery

Oh, the Wonder

2008-12-24T14:30:00.003-05:00

Maker of the sun,

He is made under the sun.

In the Father He remains,

from His mother He goes forth.

Creator of heaven and earth,

He was born on earth under heaven.

Unspeakably wise,

He is wisely speechless.

Filling the world,

He lies in a manger.

Ruler of the stars,

He nurses at His mother's bosom.

He is both great in the nature of God,

and small in the form of a servant.

~ Augustine ~

Happy Sweet Sixteenth!

2008-08-22T09:07:00.003-05:00

Anniversary, that is. We're celebrating our sixteenth today. That's it?!!! Seems like we've always been together as one. Time flies when you're having fun, right? And yes, it has been sweet, and I am eternally grateful to our Father for His grace in allowing me a husband I do not deserve.

Here are sixteen things I love about Dwayne, not in any particular order, and there are way more than this, but since it's our sixteenth, there is one for each year.

1. He loves the Lord and His Holy Word.
2. He loves me unconditionally.
3. He loves our children the same.
4. He honors his parents (and mine, too).
5. He is the opposite of me……..patient and easy going!
6. He overlooks my numerous faults on a daily basis.
7. He’s smart and is always learning.
8. He continually seeks the truth and strives to live by it.
9. He’s a good boss to his employees.
10. He’s honest and honorable in business affairs and in personal life.
11. He’s strong and handsome.
12. He likes the same things I do…..books, antiques, good music.
13. He’s a skilled craftsman and musician.
14. He unselfishly lets me drive when we go out together.
15. He works hard to provide for us without ever complaining.
16. He’s fun to play with.

And just a personal note to Dwayne...........

In Which the Menagerie Expands

2008-07-16T15:38:00.008-05:00

A few weeks ago I heard an insistent mewing at our porch door. Wondering how our house cat had gotten out, I quickly opened it asking in a puzzled tone, "Calvin, what are you doing out here?"

Much to my surprise, a tiny face looked up at me and inquired, "May I come in?" To which I replied, "Why certainly, my dear. What's one more mouth to feed?" Well, it was dark and rainy and she was so scrawny looking. I thought it was a neutered male until I donned my reading glasses and took a closer look. Oops. Sorry about that. Or should I say, "Uh oh."

Meet Lucy

We hung some posters on telephone poles and in convenience stores, the result of which was a rash of crank calls from local boys (bored with their video games, no doubt) stuttering, "Uh...we found your cat. Nyuk nyuk." Hm. Guess they need extra help in reading comprehension as the posters said, "Found kitten."

Looks like she may have been abandoned. Too bad. She's a sweet kitty, and after the initial "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!!" by Calvin, they seem to have grown accustomed to one another to point of even sleeping together.

The downside is that Calvin has replaced us as his playmates with Lucy. No more hide and seek. No more hiding under the coffee table and pouncing on us as we enter the room. No more games of "BOO!" No more lying on the landing and smacking us in the head as we go down the stairs. Anna's not happy about that but I don't think we are quite ready to adopt a pony or puppy for her just yet. I'm glad they get along so well. Calvin is actually affectionate with her.

Just love that long-suffering look on her face. "What I put up with for room and board." A couple minutes later she gave him a good smack across the puss and knocked him onto the floor.

We brought her to the vet who gave her a clean bill of health. She is very small for her age which he thinks may be around two years or a bit less. Until he checked her teeth, he thought - as did we - that she was about six months old. I've been feeding her several times a day to build her up since she's so thin, and it looks like she's gaining weight, but........is it from an increase in calories, or.......what do you think? Is she - ahem - shall we say, with kitten?

Signs of Spring

2008-05-03T19:03:00.012-05:00

Baseball..........

Bugs...............

Blooms............

Butterflies......

Birds...............

Beaux.............

Beauty............

HAPPY SPRING!!!!!

You know you're a homeschooler when........

2008-04-30T21:25:00.005-05:00

............you dream you're having an adventure with characters from a book you read!

Can you guess who?

PIPPI LONGSTOCKING!!!

Good Intentions

2008-04-27T14:56:00.007-05:00

I had them.

It is National Poetry Month. I love poetry. I fully intended to post one each and every day.

Then, then, then............

Then I came down with the mother of all colds.

Then Dwayne came down with a nasty infection.

Then our ancient septic system declared itself sick and tired.

All this on top of various and sundry cares, large and small, that have claimed our attention in the past few months. Financial difficulties. Job stresses. Health problems.

This is not to complain, for I know that it is the Lord's will concerning us at this time, and I pray that he will be glorified in it, that we will be strengthened and become more conformed to the image of Christ, and that he will use us to comfort and encourage others. I know many people who are in the midst of one trial or another, all different but equally distressful to those involved.

Jesus said that in this world we will have trouble, but to take heart, for he has overcome the world. I do take heart in those words. I also remember that he was able to look beyond the agonies that he endured on the cross to the joys which lay ahead.

Are we not blessed? I thank God: For Jesus Christ, for my salvation, for my marriage, my husband, and my children, for my family and friends, for the place we worship, for the unity of the body, for my life. For it is in him that I live and move and have my being. He is the reason for my existence. What is my purpose? To glorify God and to enjoy him forever.

There is great joy and peace to be gained in sharing our burdens with one another. I want to encourage anyone reading my blog to place what is on their hearts here so that we can pray for each other and praise the Lord together. Our bodies may decay and grow feeble but we can still exalt his name.

Have you surrendered all to Him? Every aspect of who you are? Every belonging? Every "thing" to which you cling? Not just the things you hold near and dear to your heart......but your pain and sorrow and sufferings as well?

Each morning after we read Scripture and have a devotion, Anna Rose and I recite whatever verses we are memorizing, and then sing a hymn. One we have recently learned is called Take My Life, and Let it Be. Its lyrics were written many years ago by a young girl named Frances Ridley Havergaal whose heart burned with the desire to be used by God to reach others for his kingdom:

Take my life, and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee,
Swift and beautiful for thee.

Take my voice, and let me sing, always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be filled with messages from Thee,
Filled with messages from Thee.

Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use ev'ry pow'r as Thou shall choose,
Ev'ry pow'r as Thou shall choose.

Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne,
It shall be Thy royal throne.

Take my love; my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure-store.
Take my self, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee,
Ever, only, all for Thee.

This is not an eloquent post, no Scripture references, just what is on my mind and heart today. I hope to encourage others by a reminder that even though circumstances may be difficult right now (and difficult may be the understatement of the year) for you, and it may seem that the Lord is distant, remember that he is forever the same, his Word never changes, his promises are unfailing. Pray. Pray. Pray. Read his Word, even if it is just the Psalms. Especially the Psalms. Praise his name. Pray some more. Trust. Be diligent. Be faithful. Be still and wait upon him.

More Blue

2008-04-05T19:16:00.005-05:00

I spent most of the day today with some dear friends at an uplifting, but emotionally draining, event called Ladies' Day Apart at a local church. The speaker was Dee Brestin whose theme was The God of All Comfort. I'm exhausted but refreshed, and looking forward to church tomorrow.

And now, today's poetry selection, an original penned by yours truly.

Ahem.

Blue

Blue is the color of the morning dew.

Blue to me is a color true.

Blue is the color of the sky

Where the airplanes always fly.

Blue is the color of the tide

When it is at my very side.

Okay, I sheepishly confess that I wrote that a long time ago.....in Mrs. Akus' first grade class, to be specific. She stapled it to a background of blue construction paper in the shape of a cloud and hung it on the wall. It amazes me that over forty years later I can still remember all that. Just don't ask me what I did yesterday. (Psst....what day was yesterday anyway?)

Speaking of sky and airplanes, here is another selection, one which is much more impressive than my childish attempts at verse:

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr

Read the story of the brave young pilot who wrote it here.

Memories of Another Blue Sky

2008-04-04T19:35:00.005-05:00

i thank You God for most this amazing.......

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e. e. cummings

Once again it is National Poetry Month, and I respectfully doff my chapeau to Carmon at Buried Treasure for the reminder. If you are a poetry lover, and may I suggest that even if you are not, please read the selections she has been posting. She has even invited her readers to share their original poetry. Hm. I don't know if I am that unhibited but I have a whole month in which to work up my nerve. Though I've already missed three days, I'll try and make up for it by posting one each day for the rest of the month of April.

The poem I chose for today was one that came to mind yesterday when we experienced what was probably the closest thing to a real spring day to come along this year after a tremendously long, cold, dreary, wet winter. I stepped outside, inhaled, looked up appreciatively at that bold, blue swath of color, and was immediately jolted back in time. Sixteen years ago this August my husband-to-be and I stood before God and man in a garden that we had planted in my in-laws' back yard. It had been a long, cold, dreary, wet summer that year.....until that special day when the Lord blessed us with a blue true dream of sky. My brother-in-law, Dean - tall of stature and deep of voice - read that poem, and read it well and reverently, and my heart soared as high as the sun. The day was utter perfection, crafted by the hand of God.

To quote a psalm that Anna Rose and I are memorizing:

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out to all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

--Psalm 19:1-4, NIV

For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - his eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse. --Romans 1:20

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any--lifted from the no

of all nothing--human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?

Indeed!

How to Torment a Cat

2008-03-16T19:47:00.007-05:00

Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah!

Foiled again!

Mobile Lawn Ornament

2008-03-16T19:44:00.000-05:00

A Fresh Start

2008-02-03T14:59:00.000-05:00

Spring is coming.........summer, too!

Isn't this a picture of hope and promise?

Well. After several months of silence, I am ready to burst upon the scene again, or maybe I should say sneak in with my tail between my legs. ~smile~ Have I any faithful, long-suffering readers left? If so, God bless you!

I could just have aptly entitled this post, "New Beginnings," or, "Another Path". Once upon a time I posted Robert Frost's beloved poem "The Road Not Taken". At the time, I was imagining my agrarian leanings to be my chosen path, but the Lord had other plans, and my particular schemes were detoured by my health issues. And so, with the Lord's leading, I have retraced my steps down that golden road and find myself upon a new one, no less golden, one on which I tread with my eyes gazing upward rather than inward. He leads, He guides, I follow, stumble, rise, and continue. Ever onward. Family, homeschool, church, friends.........these are all parts of my life that have formed who I am and continue to be used by the Lord to mold me and sanctify me.........all for His glory.

(This is not to suggest that my writing will prohibit contributions from the henhouse, but beyond laying an occasional egg and attempting to barge into my warm kitchen, they remain relatively bored and inactive. They, too, are ready for spring.)

Can you relate to the feeling of suppressing your creativity to the point where you are ready to burst with the fullness of it? I've found an outlet for writing when engaged in studying the Scriptures, penning a note of encouragement to a friend, and in my not very faithful journal-keeping, but not for the utter relief of letting burst the dam that restrains the river of thoughts rushing through my mind at every moment of the day. I am glad to be here.

Not long ago at my weekly ladies' Bible study, I shared a prayer I had written in gratitude to the Lord, and one dear friend suggested I publish it. Thanks to "Mrs. T.'s" encouragement, I shall do so here:

To You, O Lord, do I lift up my voice to praise Your holy name.
Hail to Thee, O Prince of Peace, whose gift of life has made a new creation of me.

All that was filthy and unrighteous in Your sight has been made pure and clean;

Not through my efforts, works, or deeds, but by Your gift of faith imparted to me, unmerited,

undeserved.

Kneeling at your feet, I offer You, in exchange, my very being, knowing full well that it was You

who created me, and chose me as Your own -

Setting me free, setting me apart, setting my feet on high places.

Grant me, O Lord, greater love for Thee, and a savage unquenchable thirst for Your Word.

In You is all that I could ever desire or hope for; in You I am complete.

View Your lowly servant with mercy, O great and loving God, and pity my unworthy soul;

Instill in me a passion for Your commandments, and the strength and means to obey.

Never leave me, nor forsake me, O God, for without Thee, life is a desert and I am but dust.

Good and kind Father, how I do love Thee and Thy Son, my loving Lord and Savior Jesus Christ

by whom all things were created and to whom all glory be given forever and ever. Amen.

You may note that the first letter of each line combines to form the word Thanksgiving. I find this to be a good exercise in writing thematic poems as well. Perhaps your children might like to try their hand at writing a prayer or poem or even a bit of prose using this idea. In the future I will be sharing more ways we play with words.........better known as creative writing.........here at our home. It's an art with many different means of expression, and if you would like to share yours, I would love to hear about it.

A Tale of Two Guineas

2007-09-09T15:01:00.000-05:00

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times............

Wait. Wrong tale. Let's start again.

Once upon a time there lived a woman with idealistic notions of farm life, and who, against her husband's better judgment and infinite wisdom, purchased a few guinea fowl.

Make that several guinea fowl.

Life became quite noisy, at times unbearably so. The woman realized the error of her ways and began a study on the women of the Bible in which submission was a prominent theme. But that is a story for another time.

One by one the guinea fowl made themselves unwelcome. One by one they were mortally wounded by passing motorists, served as the main course at dinner parties, or sold to other unsuspecting idealists.

Except for two special guineas..........

This is the tale of Boris and Olga.

You must first realize, dear reader, that guineas are not of Russian origin, but somehow the names seemed to fit this quaint couple who would really have been more at home on an African plain than in a back yard in New Hampshire. However, they lacked nothing in the way of comforts, and seemed content to spend their days together with eyes for each other alone. This, as you know, is normal for guineas who are generally monogamous birds. They roamed the yard in unison, side by side, quietly pecking at bugs and stripping the weeds of their ripe seeds. Each night they roosted together on the same beam in the coop in the old barn. Life was good for Boris and Olga.

The days of summer passed quickly, and it became known that Olga was making herself scarce. She would disappear for hours at a time, and refused to enter the coop at night. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that she was laboring under the burden that she had a mission to repopulate the would-be farm with guineas. Olga had turned broody.

Oh dear.

A bit of detective work revealed the location of the secret nest. In a hollowed out space under an overgrown patch of goldenrod near a rock wall, twenty small pointy-ended eggs lay snuggled under her warm, outstretched wings. Days turned into weeks. Feed and water were set near Olga, but she seemed to be in a trance most of the time, thinking motherly thoughts, and entirely uninterested in her surroundings.......unless one trod too close. In which case, she would at once change into a vicious, hissing, lunging dragon. Removing Olga to a safer shelter was not a option.

One bright morning, the woman left the house and, to her dismay, spied masses of guinea feathers scattered over the lawn. Crying out, she ran to Olga's nest only to discover two broken empty eggshells and no sign whatsoever of the gallant Olga nor of the remaining eggs.

Sadly, Boris called to his mate over and over, searching for her in the bushes and in the woods. Back and forth he paced, looking as anxious as a guinea can look; finally, giving up in despair, he trudged dejectedly across the lawn, picking half-heartedly at the grass, occasionally glancing up to cheep in a quiet sort of way. Settling himself by the scene of the tragedy, he realized the truth. Olga was gone.

Being a busy sort of day, full of errands and running about in the big city, the woman and her daughter did not return home until late in the day. The gravel crunched and dust rose as she pulled into the driveway that afternoon. As was his usual custom, Boris was waiting in the yard, and he ambled over to the car to greet them.

But wait. What? What is this? What IS this?!!

A wee little figure straggling behind Boris, peeping loudly for all the world to hear!

Could it be?!!

Yes! God, in His mercy, had allowed one tiny keet to survive. Not only to hatch, but to be rescued from the predator who had taken his mother and broodmates! Not only to be rescued, but to be protected from greedy hens and nasty-tempered roosters. A really, truly miracle!

This is a true story, and that little keet you see is now living in a warm, cozy brooder in the coop with its father, Boris, and all the chickens who do not appear in this story, but about whom you have read in other tales.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The Life Cycle of a Guinea

2007-04-27T16:43:00.000-05:00

"So God created......every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good." Genesis 1:21

Yes, even guineas.

And it was good!

Alas and Alack

2007-04-21T13:40:00.000-05:00

WARNING: Pity party straight ahead. Detour to another blog if you're allergic to whine.

Like many areas of the country, we have been experiencing unseasonal and even dangerous weather; in our case, this past week brought several days' worth of downpours which resulted in roads and bridges being washed out all over our town and adjoining communities. The town next door to us is pretty nearly shut down.

Our basement was filled with almost a foot and a half of water, thanks to a faulty sump pump, causing the demise of our well's water pump and the washing machine's motor. The furnace didn't take kindly to it either, and expired without a qualm. All problems have been remedied except for the last inch of water in the basement, an issue with which we will have to live as long as the water table is high. We do not have the financial means to install any type of drainage system at the moment.

The ceilings in our bedroom and Anna's are sporting unattractive new water stains. Guess the roof needs some more work. The porch's roof has been leaking since we moved almost a year and a half ago. One corner is especially soggy. I imagine that we will need to rebuild the entire thing. Of course that is dependent on finances.

We were told by our insurance company that they no longer wish to insure our barn as it is "falling down" and "shingles" on the roof are missing. I wonder whose barn they were investigating since they've never stopped by for a tour of the place. Being about two hundred years old, give or take a decade or two, our barn may have a few issues but it is by no means in danger of collapsing. As for the roof......um, it's made of metal. Hello? No comprendo. Perhaps they are architecturally challenged.....let's give them the benefit of the doubt......since it is the siding on the barn that is composed of shingles.

Even the guineas have had their difficulties (in addition to their genetic heritage, that is). Before the rain storms, we had a doozy of a snowstorm that collapsed the outdoor run Dwayne had built for them. He's just been able to repair it today. It got so I was actually feeling sorry for them being penned up inside the coop for the past couple of weeks.

Dwayne hasn't made a profit on any of his jobs in the past several months. He has been mired in a job painting a high school almost two hours away for over a year. It's a nightmare but it's almost over. I think we'll go on a cruise when it's done. Or at least shoot off some fireworks. Maybe dance around the yard in sombreros at midnight shooting our six-guns. Maybe not. Our neighbors already think we're strange. After all we're the weirdos with those bizarre quails or turkeys or guineas or whatever they are. What were we thinking? Speaking of guineas, stay tuned for an upcoming post with some surprising news. Not all is rotten in Denmark.

I pulled my back out of whack again last week by sneezing for goodness sakes. My chiropractor says it's a common way to traumatize the back. Mine anyway. Coughing works well, too. It's taking forever to heal. Not unusual for me. ~sigh~ I should have been born an invertebrate. Spineless jellyfish, anyone?

Not to be left out of the mixed bag of trials and tribulations, Calvin decided to eat something he shouldn't have and was sick again. All over the bathroom, thank you very little. This time I decided to wait it out rather than rush him to the vet, dosed him up with a kitty laxative along with some red raspberry leaf tea mixed with probiotics and herbs, and left him alone to sleep for a day and a night. It appeared to do the trick. Either that or he determined on his own to get better so he wouldn't have that vile mixture dripped down his throat again!

All joking and moaning and gnashing of teeth aside, I must sincerely say that my experiences are not the worst in the world. They mean that the Lord is not far from me, that He has been pleased to allow my sufferings, and anything that sends me to my knees and causes me to seek His face is worthy. Oh wretched person that I am, how much worse to be in distress and to be separated from Him? All the while I am being refined, He is holding me in His hands. As the clay does not direct the potter in his manipulations or techniques, so I do not question our Maker. Rather, I become pliant and yielding beneath the pressure of His fingertips, trusting Him and having faith that He is guiding and molding me to conform to His image. One day I will be finished and He will be pleased and say, "It is good." This is my hope.

This song called The Potter's Hand by Darlene Zschech is one of comfort and assurance:

Beautiful Lord, Wonderful Saviour
I know for sure, all of my days are held in your hands,
Crafted into your perfect plan
You gently call me into your presence
Guiding me by Your Holy Spirit
Teach me dear Lord to live all of my life through Your eyes
I'm captured by Your holy calling
Set me apart, I know you're drawing me to yourself
Lead me Lord I pray
Take me, mould me, use me, fill me
I give my life to the Potter's hand
Call me, guide me, lead me, walk beside me
I give my life to the Potter's hand

I know many of you who are enduring far greater pain than I. May your spirits be soothed and hope renewed by these inspired words of timeless truth in a prayer written so long ago by a Puritan brother in Christ:

GIVER OF ALL GOOD,
Streams upon streams of love overflow my path.
Thou hast made me out of nothing,
hast recalled me from ignorance to knowledge,
from darkness to light,
from death to life,
from misery to peace,
from folly to wisdom,
from error to truth,
from sin to victory.
Thanks be to thee for my high and holy calling.
I bless thee for ministering angels,
for the comfort of thy Word,
for the ordinances of thy church,
for the teaching of thy Spirit,
for thy holy sacraments,
for the communion of saints,
for Christian fellowship,
for the recorded annals of holy lives,
for examples sweet to allure,
for beacons sad to deter.
Thy will is in all thy provisions
to enable me to grow in grace,
and to be meet for thy eternal presence.
My heaven-born faith gives promises of eternal sight,
my new birth a pledge of never-ending life.
I draw near to thee, knowing thou wilt draw near to me.
I ask of thee, believing thou hast already given.
I entrust myself to thee, for thou hast redeemed me.
I bless and adore thee, the eternal God,
for the comfort of these thoughts,
the joy of these hopes.

(From The Valley of Vison)

Huh?

2007-04-04T16:27:00.000-05:00

"There is a sumptuous variety about the New England weather that compels the stranger's admiration - and regret. The weather is always doing something there; always attending strictly to business; always getting up new designs and trying them on the people to see how they will go. But it gets through more business in spring than in any other season. In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours………….The people of New England are by nature patient and forbearing; but there are some things which they will not stand. Every year they kill a lot of poets for writing about "Beautiful Spring." These are generally casual visitors, who bring their notions of spring from somewhere else, and cannot, of course, know how the natives feel about spring. And so, the first thing they know, the opportunity to inquire how they feel has permanently gone by……..Yes, one of the brightest gems in the New England weather is the dazzling uncertainty of it. There is only one thing certain about it, you are certain there is going to be plenty of weather."

(Quote courtesy Mark Twain.......click on the link to read the entire speech.)

(Sentiments about New England weather by courtesy of Calvin.)

Destruction and Mayhem

2007-03-18T17:00:00.001-05:00

After an inspiring and enlightening morning of worship and fellowship at church, we stopped to pick up a few groceries, then returned home with plans to have a snack and relax for the remainder of the day, only to be greeted with a scene of wanton vandalism in our bathroom. The shower rod was torn from its moorings - screws pulled right out of the wall - and lay collapsed in a heap of curtains on the floor, with towels scattered here, there, and everywhere.

GASP!

Who was the terrorist responsible for this random act of violence?

Nope, guess again.

Uh uh.

BINGO!

Bad Calvin!

I thought that when we named our cat, we would be honoring one of the most respected and revered leaders of the Reformation. Little did we know..........among other hateful acts of opposition, John Calvin's enemies in Geneva, Switzerland, named their dogs after him. (Hat tip to Pastor Meadows for this interesting bit of trivia.)

Hm. Perhaps we would have done better to name our cat Arminius.

Baaaaad Arminius!

heh heh

All's Well That Ends Well

2007-03-12T15:11:00.001-05:00

Keith Bradshaw, you are a GENIUS! I owe you one. Next time you're up in New Hampshire with the clan, drop in for an old-fashioned New England dinner!

Aaaaargh!

2007-03-11T17:17:00.000-05:00

Gasp!! What did I do now?!!!

I've never pretended to be computer literate.....I'm still in the "just tell me which buttons to push and I'll be all set" stage. When that fails, or Calvin tiptoes across my keyboard downloading gambling programs or burn your cellulite now ads, I call on my resident techie, Isaac. One caveat, however, is that despite his expertise, he has never learned a computer language. Is there such a thing as Sing, Spell, Read and Click? Alphatronics? Hooked on HTML?

Perhaps you've noticed that my sidebar has decided to cozy up in an intimate manner with the content of my posts. All I did was to simply go into my template to remove the code for a blog party invitation button, but neglected to preview my edited post before publishing. Big whoopsie. When will I learn to leave well enough alone? Whoever heard of being humbled by a computer? Harumphhh.

Anyway, I've already gone back and tried to fix the HTML but, not knowing the language, it's like asking for a drink of water in a foreign country and being directed to the toilet. ~sigh~

Can someone please help?.........Anyone?........grovel.....whine.....beg........

Contest Time!

2007-03-06T16:32:00.000-05:00

Scott Terry, the original Reformed Farmer himself, at Homesteader Life, is sponsoring an essay contest for youngsters with spectacular cash and gift certificate prizes for first and second place winners. Contest is open to ages 18 and under, and the topic is Restoring the Home Economy. Go check it for out for further details ASAP! Deadline is March 15, so have your "Junior Agrarians" sharpen their pencils and put on their thinking caps.

Foul Play in the Barnyard

2007-03-01T12:07:00.000-05:00

This is the handsome fellow who has been terrorizing my birds. He's a Northern Goshawk. No, I didn't take this picture; I am not that proficient in the art of photography. He likes to sit in the lofty branches of an old maple tree across the road while he monitors the activities of the chickens and guineas. I always know when he's out there because Braveheart and Bully will sound the alarm as, like true gentlemen, they usher the hens in orderly fashion into the barn then stand guard valiantly outside the door. I have yet to see the goshawk attempt a kill. Perhaps he is intimidated by the size and sound of the roosters. Either that, or he's flummoxed by the sight and sound of the guineas and is attempting to decipher their identity in his copy of Peterson's Guide to Eastern Birds.

If he ever does formulate a plan of attack, I question his success since the birds are currently incarcerated in an outdoor correctional facility off the coop which is also topped with netting. Naturally, because of the sinful behavior of a few bad birds (guineas anyone?), the remainder suffer.

To illustrate the superior brain power of chickens in comparison to guineas, I relate the following: We happened to have an exceptionally warm day last week so I opened the small sliding door to let the birds out into the fenced area. When Braveheart staggered out and ran to me with bloody spots on his comb, I was livid. Noting that most of the guineas were out, I opened the large door and both roosters quickly fled into my waiting arms. Well, they came out anyway. The guineas stoodly by dumbly (not to say "mutely") while, hoe in hand, I threatened them with bodily harm. As soon as the hens saw the roosters in the driveway, they fled in mass exodus back into the coop and practically knocked me down in their exuberance to make haste into the yard as well. The guineas discreetly clustered at the door with hopeful looks on their homely faces, but their escape was averted with further hoe brandishing on my part. Slam!

Chickens 1 - Guineas 0. Nyah nyah.

The chickens were as gleeful as chickens can be to be out of confinement. There was much strutting and crowing and puffing out of chests, scratching eagerly at the bare spots in between mounds of snow, and pecking at my feet in humble submission and thankfulness. Braveheart and Bully even allowed me to transport their majestic bodies out of the house after they followed me inside in a vain attempt to establish dominion over my kitchen. Did I ever mention that I love my roosters? Not to anthropomorphize them, but their personalities are so distinct; even their ways of communicating are different. In complete opposition to his size and demeanor (and name), Bully has a silly squeaky girly voice, while Braveheart's is deep and coarse, as befitting a gallant hero.

Anna-Rose has a favorite chicken she has dubbed Scarlet. She's great at coming up with names. Another hen is named Omelet. How perfect is that?!! Yet another one is Gloria (of the curly tail), and then we have Omelet's Friend. My favorite is Madam Marie whom I named when she was a bold, saucy little chick. Now she is plump and friendly, loves to stretch out in the sun on the back step, and if coaxed, will often jump into my lap for a scratch under the neck.

Scarlet is our house chicken. No, she doesn't live indoors, but probably would leap at the chance. Used to be that whenever the door was open, she'd dash in to make herself at home. The poor thing got quite a fright the week we brought Calvin home. She sauntered around the corner of the kitchen island just in time to glimpse Calvin's inquisitive face poking around the other side. After her initial look of amazement, followed in short order by a scream of terror, she launched herself at the back door in a whirlwind of flapping wings while Calvin took off for parts unknown. In the meantime, Braveheart was hovering at the back door looking concerned and warring with his fight or flight instincts. Poor Scarlet hasn't been as enthusiastic about coming in the house anymore, and when invited, tilts a wary eye toward the door and politely declines. At this stage in the game, Calvin just wants to make friends, but as he gazes longingly out the door, the chickens murmur among themselves and huddle closer to Braveheart and Bully.

We have an opportunity to acquire a Narragansett tom turkey in exchange for some laying hens. In my research online I've been reading that it is not a recommended practice to keep turkeys in close proximity with chickens. If anyone can advise otherwise, I would appreciate hearing from you. I believe the major concern is the blackhead disease which chickens carry in their manure and are immune to, but which is deadly to turkeys. The Narragansett is a beauty.....historically it is supposed to be a crossbreed between the wild turkeys of New England and those brought over from European stock.

Another topic of recent discussion for us has been whether to introduce a couple of ducks to intimidate the guineas. According to Peggy of Hidden Haven Homestead, since she has housed her guineas with her ducks, they have become much more quiet and acquiescent. We have a reliable source if we decide in the affirmative; friends of my in-laws raise several different breeds. I never thought I would enjoy barnyard fowl so much (well, the guineas are an exception, but I must say that they can certainly provoke my funny bone at times as well as my temper!) but there you have it.

Dwayne surprised me with this beautiful bouquet the other night. My heart's desire is that Spring can't be far behind but the landscape out my window of snow, slush, and mud, with nary a green bud to be seen does cast a pall on my wishful thinking. Ah well.....as Scarlet would say, "Tomorrow is another day!" May yours be a joyful one with all your hopes and longings satisfied and fulfilled by the One who is our Creator, Redeemer, and Comforter.

What's For Dinner?

2007-02-23T21:24:00.000-05:00

Roast guinea, guinea cacciatore, stewed guinea, guinea pot pie, barbecued guinea, guinea sausage, guinea teriyaki, moo goo guinea gai pan, guinea casserole, guinea fricassee, guinea gumbo, deep-fried guinea, guinea a la king, guinea on a stick........drool....slobber.......

Oh, excuse me, I was just daydreaming.

Did I mention that guinea is on the menu?

We haven't set an execution date yet, but their days are numbered. The complaints have been pouring in from the neighbors (well, okay, it was just one complaint from one neighbor, but still...), the roosters have been pecked beyond their dignity and (my) endurance, the dog across the street is being driven to distraction (and he's already one taco short of a combination plate), and to top it off, I even saw a squirrel covering its ears one especially clamorous afternoon.

Top Ten Reasons for Destroying and Devouring Guineas:

10.....They are complete idiots. They actually run toward the things they fear, including large dogs and pickup trucks traveling 40 mph down the road.

9.....They have a psychotic grudge against my roosters. I love my roosters. I first found it amusing when I looked out one morning to see a tribe of brainless heathens chasing them as they raced around and around the yard. And then Braveheart showed up at the back door absolutely dripping with blood from lacerations on his comb. I don't have a problem with the barnyard pecking order per se, but this is gratuitous violence.....terrorism in my opinion. Like I said, I love my roosters.

8.....Their lunacy is contagious. When they are outdoors, I literally have to sneak out of the yard to take a walk. Picture, if you will, an unwitting pied-piper followed by this cantering entourage of screeching squawking two-legged rocket scientists. I've actually had to trot around the barn a few times to get them off my trail. They're worse than a pack of bloodhounds. I'm sure I've been, at the very least, snickered at by strangers and passers by. Not to mention my neighbors. I am tempted to adopt a paper bag as a replacement for my usual headwear.

7.......They have got to be the lowest life forms in the bird world, or any other world, for that matter. Honestly, if they could perform a mind meld, they could not formulate a single brain cell. I have seen them more times than I can count on two hands running alongside a fence back and forth, back and forth, screaming their lungs out to get to the other side. "So what?" you ask. Um, the fence in question is about the height of my daughter's kneecap, that's all. My very short daughter.

6......When we first got chicks to raise it was with the intention of butchering some and keeping some for layers. Well, we ended up deciding against that when we became attached to them and their individual personalities and truly enjoyed having our little flock roaming around the yard. I knew I had not formed that same affectionate connection to the guineas when a stranger showed up at our door one evening with an apologetic look on his face confessing that he had run over one of our chickens. He explained that he had slowed down to allow the flock to cross the road, but as he started up again, they suddenly turned on one of their own and chased it right under his wheels. After my initial dismay, I realized that it couldn't have been a chicken. MY CHICKENS AREN'T HOMICIDAL MANIACS! I thanked him for letting us know, then let out a whoop! Yeah! One down, fourteen to go!

5.....They taste good.

4.....Though I've never actually eaten one, that's what I've heard.

3.....They. Never. Shut. Up. Our barn is about a hundred feet from the house. If you're ever in the kitchen at say 1:00 or 2:00 or 4:00 in the morning or whenever, you can still hear them, the alarm clock that never ever stops beeping. I've heard what good *watch dogs* they make. Oh my, yes. If you are ever in danger of being attacked by a falling acorn or a leaf or a worm crawling by, they will certainly warn you. And warn you. And warn you. They scream when they're hungry, they scream when they're being fed, they scream when they see you, they scream when you walk away, they scream and they scream and they scream and they scream and.......well, you get the picture.

2.....They haven't even started laying eggs yet. And when they do, they're half the size of chicken eggs. That's when you can find them. They like to hide their eggs. And they don't even make good mothers. Must be those homicidal tendencies.

1.....What was I thinking? (Please, no creative answers!)

Despite my rantings and ravings, I must admit that owning guineas has taught me a few things. (Just a second, I'm sure I can come up with something redeemable from this experience.) Well, I did learn that I am capable. And I did learn that they can be trained to come when I call, and to go into the coop at night. I even built a pen for them of my own design. Hopefully I can share my knowledge with someone who is interested in tormenting themselves......er, I mean raising guineas.

Please don't think me a hard-hearted, ruthless, cold-blooded murderer. Most of this post was in jest, though we really are planning on a butchering day sometime soon when the weather becomes a bit more temperate. We would like to keep a couple of the guineas around for entertainment value. No, truly, it will be for the reason we originally bought them, and that is their voracious appetite for ticks, a problem that is epidemic in New England. The only decision is whether to keep males, females, or one of each!

New Things About Us

2007-02-20T14:48:00.000-05:00

We've started attending a church with which we are quite pleased. They are Reformed Baptist, the pastor and his wife are homeschoolers, worship is family integrated (yay!) and is an all day affair including shared luncheon for those who desire to partake, the teaching is right on (yay! again), and my mom is even coming with us. Feels so good to be back in fellowship with a body of believers after having been out of it for over a year. Oh, and I'm sure our pastor, D. Scott Meadows, would be happy for me to share a link to SermonAudio where his teachings are available for your listening pleasure and edification. He just taught an excellent, eye-opening (for some) series on Luke 19:11-27.

My back is doing better! I won't say my chiropractor is working wonders because it's been a loooong, slooooow recovery. He says I must have had this problem for a very long time. But progress is being made and I am optimistic about being outdoors come spring planting and taking care of the chickens and guineas without fear of breaking in two the minute I pick up a bucket or wield a hoe.

Anna-Rose is signed up to begin taking lessons from a local artist in a few weeks. This will be a first for her and she is quite excited. We know she has a God-given talent, and I have been stymied as to how to nurture her progress; although I'm a creative person by nature, by no stretch of the imagination am I able to draw. She, on the other hand, has been churning out reams (literally) of fanciful and humorous pictures for years. I have countless boxes in the attic filled to the brim with her work. Her homeschool portfolio has pages of her visual interpretations of whatever we are reading or studying. This works out very well for us as she has the type of personality in which both brain and body are compelled to be busy simultaneously.

We are very relaxed (not to say lax) in our homeschool methods, so establishing and adhering to a strict routine of homeschooling in the mornings while reserving the afternoons for other activities is a new approach for us. One of the reasons I haven't been blogging, commenting, or even reading blogs in the past few weeks is that I have had to prioritize, and days will often go by when I have not even used the computer except to check the weather forecast or catch up on the news. Hopefully, in the future, I will be able to devote a certain portion of the day to blogging.

Calvin is getting *snipped* the day after tomorrow, poor guy. For any newcomers to my blog, Calvin is NOT my husband. He is the kitten we adopted the week before Christmas. I hope he retains his snugglesome, goofball personality after being surgically emasculated.

A Valentine's Day snowstorm graced us with several inches on top of the few that we already had. Add to that relentless, icy winds and you have a miserably cold winter. I don't remember ever having so many windy days as we have experienced this year. The birds have hardly ever been able to come out of the coop because of the severe low temperatures and wind chills. I prefer my frozen birds to be butchered first, thank you. My mom tells a story about the time she was a little girl and went to visit her uncle's farm up in northern Maine during one winter. Her aunt brought their chickens in to the kitchen to thaw out and get warm. Wouldn't my crew dearly love that? My brother who lives at the northernmost edge of the White Mountains has about four feet of snow. Their average temperature has been around -10 F. I told him he can keep it. This old house is quite drafty so my best friend these days is an electric blanket.

Poor Anna-Rose is suffering from her first virus of the year. She always gets zonked with a post-nasal drip that upsets her tummy. Not fun when you have a sore throat, too. Since she doesn't always like to take the herbal remedies I offer, my usual protocol is to give her lots to drink with extra probiotics mixed in. That usually does the trick in short order. She's comfortably ensconced on the sofa with her favorite blanket nibbling a rice cake while enjoying a Wallace and Gromit DVD. Watching movies and reading books have been the order of the day. When I get my voice back, we'll continue with The Horse and His Boy, third book in the Narnia series.

Both of the boys had birthdays this month. Dylan turned 29 (gasp!) on the 1st, and Isaac turned 19 on the 12th. Since both boys were born in February, I always wonder if I had another girl whether she would be an October baby like Anna-Rose.

What's happening in your neck of the woods?

Happy Anniversary!

2007-01-13T18:09:00.000-05:00

I just realized that I have been blogging steadily for exactly one year today! In honor of this happy day, I'm posting a poem of which I am quite fond, penned by one my favorite poets, a fellow New Englander not unfamiliar with the agrarian life: Robert Frost.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two road diverged in a wood, and I -

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

It has been a delight for me to meet so many people online. If you have visited my blog but have never left a comment, I would be blessed to know you have been here!

Humble and Helpless....but not Hopeless

2006-12-31T14:09:00.000-05:00

I dedicate this post in loving compassion and encouragement to my dearly beloved friends online and elsewhere who are experiencing difficulties in their lives. In the words of our Lord, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." [John 16:33]

Some time ago our local Christian bookstore shut their doors after determining that they could not compete with the online booksellers who were able to offer bigger discounts. It was a sad occasion for us as we had been loyal customers for years. They were located practically within walking distance of our home, had been an oasis in the desert (aka The Northeast) for me as a newer Christian, and had witnessed Anna-Rose growing from a child in the womb to an adorable but haughty-looking baby they christened "The Princess" to a charming little girl who loved being the store helper whenever we dropped in.

Dwayne stopped by one day during the final week of their going-out-of-business sale and bought me a book I had been longing to own called The Valley of Vision. Next to the Bible, this book has been the source of more encouragement and inspiration to me than any other book I have read. The prayers and devotions were selected from the works of several Puritan men of great and lesser reknown, including Isaac Watts, Charles Haddon Spurgeon, Thomas Watson, and Richard Baxter. The first prayer in the book reads as follows:

The Valley of Vision

LORD, HIGH AND HOLY, MEEK AND LOWLY,

Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,

where I live in the depths but see thee

in the heights;

hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold

thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox

that the way down is the way up,

that to be low is to be high,

that the broken heart is the healed heart,

that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,

that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,

that to have nothing is to possess all,

that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,

that to give is to receive,

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from

deepest wells,

and the deeper the wells the brighter

thy stars shine;

Let me find thy light in my darkness,

thy life in my death,

thy joy in my sorrow,

thy grace in my sin,

thy riches in my poverty,

thy glory in my valley.

The start of a new year usually prompts me to devise all sorts of plans which inevitably look good on paper but, when the realities and responsibilities of day-to-day living materialize, they not only wither, fade, and fall to the ground, but get trampled underfoot!

"Many are the plans in a man's heart but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." [Proverbs 19:21]

Having been afflicted with physical pain that has become a handicap to accomplishing that to which I aspire, I am brought to my knees, and know that it is a good place to be. The Lord does not desire sacrifice, but a broken and contrite heart he does not despise. After a long struggle with my flesh, I am in that place of brokenness wherein my only plan is to seek his leading. The Lord has designed us as unique individuals and each one of us is a child of our Father's heart (I speak to his disciples here); his desire is to conform us to the likeness of Christ. As unique individuals we each require disciplines tailored to our personal needs and weaknesses, and, therefore, are going through trials meant to mold, refine, and perfect our faith. What I am enduring is not necessarily what my brother or sister is enduring; theirs may be physical, emotional, financial, spiritual, or one of many others. I can think of several fellow bloggers who are experiencing trials of one type or other. Despondency may have overtaken some of you; despair may have become the state to which you are accustomed; depression may be driving you to tears several times a day.

But my brothers and sisters, I say to you: let us be humble and helpless, but not hopeless! For we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us, and not only that - we are victorious unto death!

Peter says,

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade - kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls." [1 Peter 1:3-9]

Fellow pilgrims, I beg you to abide by these words as your journey takes you forward. May the coming year find you filled with a desire to walk humbly with a servant's heart, submissive to the will of the Lord, and filled with the joy and peace that only he can give. Onward and upward!

Back at Home

2006-12-23T12:22:00.000-05:00

I brought Calvin home just about an hour ago. The poor little guy mewed all the way, just dying to get out of his crate and be cuddled. The second I stopped the car the sound of his purring filled the air. The vet remarked on how sociable and people-loving he is. He wouldn't even eat at the clinic as long as there was someone around, he was so longing for attention. Sounds more like a dog than a cat!

So, anyway, the good news is that the mass in his tummy has moved into his lower intestine and the vet feels confident that he will pass it without incident.

Of course we had to take out a second mortgage on the house to pay the bill. 8^P

My Poor Baby!

2006-12-22T21:41:00.000-05:00

As I write this our sweet little Calvin is at the veterinarian's, spending the night while they run tests and keep watch over him. I'm sure some people would consider it trivial to ask for prayer for a pet cat, but I'm asking anyway. If you are so inclined, please pray for Calvin. We are fearful that he may have an intestinal obstruction. His symptoms indicate that possibility but the vet seems optimistic.

I forgot how much mischief a kitten can get into, not having had one in so many years. Yesterday he wasn't as playful as usual, then threw up in the afternoon. He spent the night in Anna's room with her, then when I went upstairs later on I found a *hairball* type mass on her floor that looked like it was full of some kind of fuzzy fabric and a small piece of rubber. Oh oh. What has this little guy eaten? All morning he just lay around sleeping, not purring when stroked as he usually does, even flinching at times as though in pain. Didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink. Not good.

After making a few calls, I found a vet who would see him on short notice. Not too far away, so that was helpful. They questioned me as they examined him and assured me that they would do as much testing as necessary to diagnose his problem. Oh oh. $$$$$$

I know some people would have just as soon have the cat euthanized but we just couldn't do that. We've only had Calvin for a week and a half but we feel like we're responsible for him, and we're already very fond of him. So........$$$$$$$

I talked to the vet around dinnertime and he gave me the rundown on what they've done so far. Gave him fluids transdermally because he was dehydrated. Gave him a dose of Amoxicillin. His fever did come down after that. Did a series of x-rays. Blood tests. Urine tests. Tried giving him some kind of nutritional ointment orally which he licked but wasn't really interested in eating. The vet didn't feel comfortable sending him home when he still wasn't eating or drinking on his own so they're keeping him overnight and I'm to call first thing in the morning to check on his progress.

I'm sure this is way to much information but I'm having a slight anxiety attack worrying about him and our finances so it helps to talk about it. If you'd rather pray for our finances than for Calvin, please do!

A New Addition to the Family!

2006-12-15T15:06:00.001-05:00

***A cautionary note: Be forewarned that the following post contains some talk of "female issues" that may be somewhat embarrassing, discomforting, or just downright boring to the menfolk in my little audience.

For women, the approach of middle-age brings with it a variety of physical and emotional changes which can either delight or horrify depending upon ones attitude. Rising and declining hormone levels can make life a daily roller-coaster ride, wrinkles begin to appear, weight is harder to shed, and muscles grow slacker. But grey hairs do not necessarily signal the descent down the other side of the hill. God's Word invokes the image of wisdom and respect in regards to a grey head. So we should rejoice in growing older, correct?

It's not the numbers, though, it's the uncertainty. Each monthly.....ahem.....cycle brings either surprise, shock, disappointment, or rejoicing.....again, depending on ones attitude. When Dwayne and I were married, I came to him with two sons. After several years, we were convinced that we were not to have a child together and were accepting of that as God's will. Not actively trying to conceive but at the same time doing nothing to prevent it. (Please understand that I am not attempting to begin a debate on this issue but comments are always welcomed.)

At the "ripe old" age of forty, I began to feel a bit odd one month. Lo and behold, a pregnancy test confirmed what one friend suspected, and I was "with child" as they say. I'll never forget the mix of emotions......elation, fear, shock! When Dwayne got home from work that day, I led him into the bedroom and suggested that he sit down. He was absolutely clueless, had no idea that I had even taken a test. When I told him the good news, he became hysterical and couldn't stop laughing. Just couldn't believe it. And so began the life of Anna-Rose, a blessing from the Lord in my middle age. (Her birth story is worthy of its own post, so I will leave that for another time.)

This past year I've taken pregnancy tests a few times, most recently last month. The little pink line was very adamant. Negative. Again I felt that poignant mix of emotions. Sadness, relief, disappointment. It was the Lord's will and yet I felt a loss.

At any rate, we discussed adopting and this past week we made a decision. What better time than Christmas to take in an orphan?

Allow me to introduce you to Calvin!

Did I have you going there? No, I do not equate acquiring a kitten with the glorious arrival of a new baby but he sure is warm and cuddly! Our Christmas present to ourselves was to go to a local shelter and pick out a new best friend for Anna-Rose. Somehow chickens and guineas just do not cotton to being snuggled and they are definitely not welcome to share her pillow. This little guy really was an orphan, along with three siblings, but we elected to take only one. His personality matches Anna's......affectionate, sociable, playful, strong-willed, and adorable. A perfect pair!

Not Funny

2006-12-07T23:10:00.000-05:00

I've been told I have a great sense of humor but lately my life seems to be a comedy of errors and I'm not laughing. Perhaps I'm not cut out for this lifestyle, and I'm wondering whether the Lord is speaking to me by allowing my physical trials to prevent me from moving forward with any further plans. It could be that I am simply discouraged and frustrated at my lack of ability to accomplish anything without hurting myself but maybe, just maybe, He wants me to "be still" and listen to His plans for a change.

I've been seeing a chiropractor for the past few weeks. I'm feeling progress, albeit very slowly. With the right treatment plan, maybe this problem can be licked once and for all. I certainly hope so, if only for the reason that I can't even take proper care of my family. Next to the Lord, they are my priority. There is a lesson for me here, and I've been ignoring it for too long.

I have to be truthful in saying that if I hadn't instigated it, we probably would not have gotten involved in any agrarian undertakings in the past year since moving here. Dwayne's job is very consuming, physically and mentally, Isaac has absolutely no interest, and Anna-Rose is just a little girl. Getting chickens was my idea, getting guineas was my idea, planting vegetables was my idea, etc., etc., and all these "ideas" relied on an initial financial outlay, and further expenses with next to no profit. Sure, we're getting eggs now and we did have a small crop of tomatoes, but at what cost? Dwayne and I never sat down and planned it out together. I read and researched and got excited and said, "I want, I want, I want!" without even having the consideration to ask, "What do you want?" or even, "May I?"

So here I am at rock-bottom, confessing my sins with shame and feeling disgusted at myself. Everyone has been so kind to me, helping, encouraging, inspiring, sharing knowledge and advice, even praying for me. That I surely need because it's not about me but God's will for me. I'd sincerely like to know what that is.

God is Good!

2006-11-10T09:19:00.000-05:00

I want to thank all the saints who lifted Peyton Rose up in prayer. God has performed a miracle of healing on her and the best news of all is:

!!!!!!!!!!!SHE'S HOME!!!!!!!!!!!

Her mommy and daddy brought her home from the hospital this morning and she is as healthy as can be. Praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord, O my soul;

all my inmost being, praise His holy name.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits-

who forgives all your sins

and heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit

and crowns you with love and compassion,

who satisfies your desires with good things

so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

-Psalm 103:1-5

New Update on Peyton Rose

2006-11-06T00:01:00.000-05:00

Peyton Rose continues to improve, all praises be to God! Her mommy was technically released from the hospital but they have been able to stay in a family room there in order to remain close to their baby girl. They may need to leave the room if a more needy family comes in and will then have to relocate to a nearby hotel. Baby Peyton is not ready to leave yet but great news: she has been able to nurse! Only an ounce at a time so far but better than an I.V.! She is still scheduled to undergo the biopsy early this morning, so let's join in prayer that the outcome will be a positive one, and maybe she will be able to go home soon! May our merciful and almighty Father in heaven continue to pour out His blessings on her.

This Sweet Baby Needs Your Prayers!

2006-11-02T18:33:00.000-05:00

Urgent! Please pray for precious little Peyton Rose, the great-niece of my dear sister-in-law. She was just born on October 31st and has been diagonosed with an intestinal disorder called Hirschsprung's Disease in which the nerve cells in the lower part of the large intestinal are non-existent. She needs lifesaving intensive medical care and probably surgery to alleviate intestinal blockage. With the Lord's help she will pull through this trial. Her mommy is with her but is recuperating from a C-Section so she and the rest of the family could use prayer as well.

*******UPDATE*******UPDATE*******UPDATE*******

Things are looking up for Peyton, praises be to God! They decided not to go ahead with the surgery as she seems to be eliminating on her own. So perhaps their diagnosis of Hirschsprung's was a bit hasty. She was scheduled for a biopsy but they have elected to hold off until Monday while they see how she does over the weekend. She has also been connected to an IV but she's a feisty little thing and keeps pulling it off so they may leave it off her and try feeding her orally. Her mommy would like to nurse her but doesn't know if they'll allow it. I'm praying that she will be able to get some of that colostrum ASAP, not to mention being held and cuddled by mama. Her daddy got to snuggle with her in the nursery, and I can just imagine the joy! Keep praying! Miracles are happening! :)

My Two Moms

2006-10-27T20:26:00.000-05:00

I am blessed to have two moms. No, I am not adopted in the conventional sense of the word. However, I do have a biological mother and, in addition, a mother who has taken me into her life and her heart and loves me unconditionally. I speak of my dear mother-in-law, one of the most humble and selfless people I know. She has seen me at my worst as well as my best (the day I married Dwayne of course!), and I know she has prayed for me faithfully. I believe that when I married my husband fourteen years ago, I became her daughter. Just today she appeared at my door ready to lend a hand as I sat, yet again, wretched and aching, with another episode of back pain. She will undoubtedly be embarrassed to read my proclamations here (though she will be thankful that I'm not posting any photos!) but I want to share how very blessed I am. Thank you Jane! I love you! You are a wonderful woman and one of the bestest friends I have ever or ever hope to have in this life, and not only that, we get to live together in heaven for eternity!

Joy in the Morning

2006-10-10T23:14:00.000-05:00

After breakfast, Anna-Rose has the daily task of letting the chickens out of their coop and tossing them a bowl of dried corn. The guineas follow in hot pursuit creating a wild teeming mass of feathers, beaks and squawks in the driveway each morning while they gobble their goodies. The way they go at it you'd think they had been prisoners of war for six months on a starvation diet.

What I find extraordinary is the way they have developed a daily routine without any direction from me. Following the corn feast, they adjourn to the patio to whine (chickens) and screech (guineas) for more snacks. They know, you see, that this is the time of day when I am working in the kitchen. After being ignored and/or chastised, they then proceed to demonstrate the answer to the riddle: Why did the chicken cross the road? Why, to get to the neighbor's yard of course. Yes, I have raised a flock of malcontents who find the grass greener on the other side.

This creates several amusing scenarios each day as they cross back and forth holding up traffic or chasing cars (yes, the guineas do this) or inspecting horse-riders and dog-walkers (you never know who might be carrying a handout). Braveheart once decided to challenge a Jeep Wrangler and staunchly stood his ground until, arms waving like a lunatic, I chased him back into the yard. Thankfully the driver and his dog sat patiently chuckling......at the rooster or me, I don't want to know.

Here's a recent picture of Braveheart, looking dashing and debonaire. In reality he is a glutton. He actually sits on the back doorstep crowing until someone comes out and throws some leftovers at him. And to think I once called him charming. We've decided that his crow sounds like, "Where's my coooorn?!!" Where once he strutted, he now waddles. Shameful.

Now that the guineas are on the loose, we are seeing fewer insects and absolutely zero ticks. This more than makes up for their homely faces and fingernails-on-a-blackboard-at-an-ear-piercing-pitch screaming. Not to mention their low IQ's. I must say that they will come when I call them. All I have to do is yell, "Treeeeeats!" and shake a cup of millet and I can even get them down off the roof (or out of the neighbor's yard).

Not much else happening in the way of agrarian adventures. We had the most pathetic crop of tomatoes I ever hope to see. All green. We had to pull them because of the frost coming last weekend. And not one pepper......not one. Something bit off most of the blossoms as they were growing, and when they did miraculously bear fruit, it was immediately nibbled off as well. Just looking at those two baskets of green tomatoes made me cry. It was so disappointing after all the work, and in my case, a trip to the emergency room for my back when it went out after transplanting them. So I've got a $1000 chicken coop and a $500 tomato crop. Realistically, we really shouldn't have planted this year, not having prepared the soil properly. My flower garden did much better. We still have loads of gigantic pink and white cosmos blooming. I had to laugh the other night. Some potatoes had sprouted in the compost pile and Dwayne brought one in to show me. It was the size of a pea! Maybe we should just stick the seeds right in the compost next year seeing as how my tomatoes are greener than my thumb.

But at least I can raise chickens. And look at the benefits!

Extreme Makeover, Agrarian Style!

2006-08-21T16:01:00.000-05:00

The following pictures show the transformation of a shed attached to the back of our barn into the Taj Mahal of chicken coops. Dwayne worked so hard for several weeks on his days off each weekend, sometimes with his father's help, and now the chickens and guineas have a warm, dry, cozy place to roost each night. He calls it My Thousand Dollar Chicken Coop. I remarked to my sister-in-law who was visiting one day (as Dwayne stood on the roof hammering boards in the 90 degree heat), "See how much my husband loves me?" Some ladies prefer diamonds, red roses by the armful, a night on the town.......not me. I'll tell you what brings a romantic throb to my heart, and that is seeing my husband wrestling 2x4's and pounding nails, bringing us one step closer to living out our agrarian vision.

BEFORE:

Anna-Rose cannot resist a ladder! This is the back of the shed. The roof had been leaking for a long, long time, rotting the timbers underneath the shingles. Although the shed is divided into two sections and only the left side was water-damaged, Dwayne decided to replace the entire roof rather than having to do the other side later if it developed problems as well.

Dwayne used a special saw to cut out several rafters. They were soft and falling apart.

There were several areas of mildew from the moisture buildup.

This window looks out onto the side towards the house.

This is a smaller back window. Dwayne completely reframed it. There are two other windows on the other side of the shed. Hopefully, that will be for goats next year!

This is the wall that is built up against the barn. It has a small window on hinges that looks into the barn so we can peek in on the birds. Of course the guineas attempted to fly through it and learned after many a bruised noggin that it can't be done!

This is the wall that separates the two sections of the shed. It has a nice access door.

AFTER:

A view of the new roofing boards from the interior, new rafters, and plywood covered walls. There is an insulation space between the inner and outer boards.

Here is the new window, looking onto the side, hinged, and covered with hardware cloth inside. We use the board to hold it open and adjust according to the weather conditions.

Another view of the ceiling.

Here's Dwayne putting the finishing touches on the door that divides the guineas' holding area from the chickens' side. He put up poultry wire across the entire length and height of the coop to separate them until the guineas have completed their six weeks' confinement. They are already roosting in the rafters. Apparently, guineas like to be up high. Of course they choose to sit near the door which makes it a precarious procedure when entering or exiting their pen!

In my next post I'll share some picture of the birds enjoying their new home. The chickens have been getting into a lot of trouble lately. Very naughty. Their hormones must be kicking in because they've become somewhat rebellious. The guineas are anxious to get out and explore but they still have three more weeks to go. They keep trying to follow me out the door.

We decided against renting a dumpster, so one side effect of all this barn renovation is the piles of old lumber, some boards hidden by tall grass, with nails still embedded. I know because my foot discovered one last weekend while I was doing yard cleanup. I'm sure an echo of the scream I exhaled is still drifting through the atmosphere somewhere over the White Mountains although Anna insists all I did was gasp. I do remember dropping on the ground in agony before sprinting (how did I do that?) to the house. God was merciful and the nail did not go all the way through my foot, although my brand new sneakers now have a lurid red stain inside. And, thankfully, I didn't throw my back out again while performing all those calesthenics! I'm just now within the past couple of days able to walk normally in lieu of hobbling like Tiny Tim without a crutch so life should be easier from here on out........right?

Until next time..........keep on trusting and praising the Lord no matter what burden you are carrying. There are times when discouragement comes on a daily basis but the Lord is there preparing the way and equipping us for the journey. All is according to plan, for our benefit and to His glory. "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." - 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Home "Tweet" Home

2006-07-30T21:19:00.000-05:00

At long last! (~Insert heavy sigh of relief~)

This afternoon I was privileged to assist in the final stages of construction of the interior of the chicken/guinea coop! Though I must say I was a little out of my element. Picture me: long flowing lilac dress fluttering about my ankles, bending laboriously over a sawhorse in the barnyard, and wielding a disc sander on a stack of 2X4's. I was preparing them for their ultimate destiny as rungs for a roost. I'm certain I presented an incongrous spectacle to bemused passers-by! (Aren't you proud of me using a power tool especially when I have a singular fear of anything that plugs into an electrical outlet and goes "buzz"?)

So, praise the Lord.......after many weekends of grueling labor, an abundance of mental as well as muscular exertion (and not a little sweat), and a flurry of industrious activity by Dwayne today, the Taj Mahal of poultry coops was declared inhabitable this evening. Following a burst of initial protests over their sudden eviction from their previous residence, its new tenants are now slumbering contentedly on their freshly-sanded-by-yours-truly perches. And so we are finished. For the time being. Ahem. I'm sure revisions will come along the way. Being a perfectionist means never being completely satisfied!

I'll be posting several before and after pictures to display the extent of the work that Dwayne accomplished, at times with the help of his dad. What we are using as the coop is actually a structure built onto the back of the barn (a shed, if you will) that was divided into two sections. It was in great disrepair but looks completely different now except for the ceiling and rafters. The floor is cement and we're using pine shavings for the bedding. The guineas are blocked off from the chickens with poultry wire in a large holding pen area since they are still getting accustomed to one another. They need to stay in there for the next six weeks to imprint upon their pea-sized brains that this is home. According to what I've researched, they will then return each evening after their daily foraging. Hopefully they've read the same books. I can only imagine the daily antics I will be sharing with these characters. (~Insert happy sigh.~)

At six weeks old, they are getting quite homely with their tiny heads and large bodies, although the spotted feathers are attractive. I've heard of critters being called so ugly they're cute.....well, these beauties are halfway to being ugly and cuteness is long-gone. Once their heads grow bald and white and they develop little cup-shaped wattles and a knobby red growth on their noggins, they almost make you believe in creatures from outer space. I personally think fully grown guineas resemble a Dr. Seuss character gone mad......but they eat ticks, I keep telling myself. (Funny thing about those ticks. I think the word got out about the guineas coming because I have not seen one of those eight-legged creepy-crawlies since springtime. Not one! Someone in the neighborhood is undoubtedly wondering why they have twice as many as usual this year!)

It was quite the exercise in patience and frustration transfering them from the porch to the barn though not as much as I had anticipated. We closed off the porch and opened the pen; they flew out in a screeching, flapping, panic-stricken mass; we chased them down, put them in a covered bin, and carried them over to the shed. Once in their new pen, they at first huddled in speechless horror at the furthest end, then one by one began mincing cautiously around, pecking at the feed, taking a sip of water, glancing up at the rafters, peering suspiciously through the wire at me! Then, with a flap of wings, one bold aviator took flight, and suddenly it became a circus as they all attempted his example simultaneously. Feathers exploding everywhere! They were having the time of their lives. With the heights they're achieving at this tender age, I can just see them roosting in trees and on the rooftops!

The chickens were far from excited; in fact, they were quite put out with me for closing off their harbor of safety on the porch and ushering them into a strange new place with those same psychotic neighbors. Someday they'll forgive me. Have you ever heard a chicken cry? Honestly, when I left them in the barn they were literally weeping. I think I will leave them in there for a day or two to get comfortable with the idea of their new home. Not six weeks though! I have come to believe that chickens are a lot smarter than we give them credit for, although they do occasionally have their functioning-on-limited-brain-cell moments. But then....don't we all?

The Great Chicken Rescue of '06

2006-07-12T13:58:00.000-05:00

The forecast yesterday predicted thunderstorms in the afternoon. I figured that I had my day mapped out perfectly. Let the chickens out in the yard, transfer the guineas from their small bin to the larger chicken pen, feed and water the guineas, go for a walk with Anna-Rose, come home and have breakfast, bring my mom on her weekly shopping trip, come home and get the chickens back onto the porch (yes, porch....the coop is still under construction) before the weather changed.

I forgot the saying that plans were made to be changed.

And that the Lord has been working on my habit of impatience for some time now. Did I mention that I'm a slow learner?

Long about an hour after the chickens had been enjoying their morning constitutional around the back yard, I heard a faint booming. Thought nothing of it as there is some development going on down the road a piece. The booming went on and on and on. Suspicious now, I ventured out onto the patio just as the sky began to darken. Great. Back onto the porch, guys and gals.

Needless to say, the chickens did not eagerly stand at attention and gallop at my heels to the sound of my snapping fingers and sweet voice beckoning, "Choooook.....chookchookchook." They looked up at me with that peculiar chickeny tilt of the head and cold calculating eye and silently declared me to be off my rocker. Whoever said chickens were stupid never met my flock of geniuses.

Bearing in mind that my back is in a fragile state these days, I commenced to murmuring endearments, coaxing, and finally full body tackling all twelve chickens until they were all rounded up and safely ensconced on the porch once more, albeit NOT in their pen which was now occupied by fifteen psychotic guineas. (Yes.....I still have all fifteen. No one who knows the reputation of guineas should be surprised that I have not found a single person who will take even one off my hands. My father-in-law remarked to me, "Whatever possessed you to get guinea hens? Hm. Possessed. An accurate assessement.)

Well, by now it was too late for a walk and we had to rush to make it out the door in time to pick up my mom. I left instructions with Isaac that if the weather cleared, he was to open the porch door and let the chickens back into the yard.

I arrived home shortly after 1:00 to find the chickens playing cards on the porch.....no, they're not that smart. Truthfully, while I was gone, we had had quite the gangbuster of a storm here complete with hail. It appeared to be growing less cloudy and the sun was making brief appearances, so I opened the door to the porch, much to the chickens' glee and they raced away joyfully as fast as they could distance themselves from me. (If you've never seen a chicken run, you don't know what you're missing. Try tying your arms to your sides, lean forward, and sprint. You get the idea.)

Fast forward one hour.

Boom.......Boom. Uhoh.

This time we didn't start off with a tentative drizzle but the mother of all downpours. Poor chickies. They sought shelter under a bush honeysuckle by the back door under which they huddled in a miserable array of sodden feathers.

Dilemma #1: Bring them in? Leave them out? Bring them in? Leave them out? Oh look at the poor things. They're going to get hypothermia or some chicken disease. Yeah, and I'm going to get soaked! But they're still technically babies, aren't they? Oh, they'll survive, they have all their feathers. And so I argued with myself for several minutes. The survival instinct was kicking in strong. In the meanwhile, the downpour increased until the view of my back yard was a blur.

Sigh.

Clenching my jaw, I rolled up my pant legs, and set out on the great chicken rescue. Thunder boomed and lightning crashed. It was a life or death situation.......mine. Twenty soggy minutes later I was a hero and my flock was warm and on their way to being dry.

Dilemma #2: The chickens are now LOOSE on the porch because the guineas have taken occupation of their pen and there is absolutely NO WAY I am going to lasso those varmints again. They are now almost four weeks old and they can fly! In circles even. You cannot imagine how difficult it is to restrain a guinea whose wings are stronger than my biceps. Okay, I'm a wimp muscle-wise, but you get the picture. I'd already chased them around the porch that morning with everything but a set of bolas to get them into that pen. "Anna-Rose, come here and help me......we're going to fill the porch with these pine shavings." And that is what we did. The chickens now have a cozy little (temporary, I emphasize) pen on the porch. It will be a mess for a while but you do what you have to do. Necessity is the mother of invention and all that.

Ah, the joys of country living. Wouldn't trade it for the world.

Had any adventures lately?

Ten Days and Counting

2006-06-23T23:01:00.000-05:00

The keets are now ten days old and about the size of the average day old chick. Their wing feathers are growing longer and they are running and leaping as they flap about, almost reaching to the top third of the bin. A wire cover will soon be in order.

We are making progress with our socialization skills! I can slowly (very important) place my hand down into the bin and rub my fingers together softly without causing a full scale panic fest. The bravest few will come running over and begin scratching and pecking at my palm, climbing right aboard in their enthusiasm. Curiosity and flock mentality dictate that the others must imitate the behavior of their brood mates. Whither one goest, the remainder will soon follow. While my hand is becoming a familiar visitor to their little habitat, they haven't quite seemed to make the connection between it and the rest of my body; if I attempt to make any other movements, they race off squawking to the nearest corner and huddle in mass hysteria as you can see below.

Today I caused quite the stir. A three-ring circus in fact. In the distorted world view of a guinea, any foreign (unfamiliar) object is regarded with immediate suspicion which then progresses to outright fear and ultimately abject terror. All this within the space of a couple seconds. Witness the introduction of a harmless stick innocently inserted into their brooder this morning for a roost. Watch as the keets react as though introduced to a fully grown boa constrictor. See their efforts to meld into the plastic sides of the bin in an attempt to escape. Listen as I groan heavily in disgust. Aaaaaargh.

Alas, we have experienced the tragic side of life with our guineas as well as the comic. We lost one of our frail brood the other day. She was undoubtedly the runt, about half the size of the other keets. Poor thing, she became weaker throughout the evening, so weak that she actually allowed me to pick her up without protesting, and snuggled into my hand to sleep. The next morning she cuddled up with her buddies to nap and never woke up again. I had named her Pipsqueak. Leave it to Anna-Rose to introduce a note of hilarity into the situation, though. When I solemnly explained what had happened, she matter-of-factly pronounced, "It was a dud."

We are now left with fifteen, ten to be sold (if I can find some unsuspecting victims) and thankfully they all appear to be strong and healthy albeit mentally unstable. (Sh! That's our little secret.)

And so our adventures continue. Stay tuned........

The Strange Neuroses of the Guinea Fowl

2006-06-20T14:40:00.000-05:00

Or, How to Scare a Guinea Without Even Trying.

Aren't they sweet? Psychotic (see KSMilkmaid's comments in my last post), but utterly adorable! To think that they will grow up to be empty-headed lunatics......well, it's hard to believe at this stage, but I will take Christina's word for it since she has had plenty of experience with them.

It's going to be an uphill battle getting any of them hand-tamed I can tell. Just yesterday I decided that rather than scattering their grain on the paper towels, I would place it in a feeder. Big mistake. Have you seen War of the Worlds? This was the guinea version. They acted like an alien spacecraft had landed in their back yard, and there was panic in the streets as they jammed themselves into the corner of the bin furthest away from the thing. Thankfully they are too small to trample each other to death but there is always the danger of smothering so I had to keep an eye on them for a while. Took them an hour before they would finally go near it, let alone eat out of it.

Comical yet pathetic.

A simple paper change is an exercise in terror for them. When it's time to remove the soiled toweling on the bottom of the bin, I usually start at one end and roll it up, then lift it all out at once. I suppose I can understand their fear. From their diminutive perspective it probably appears as though a gigantic steam roller is about to create hash out of them. The thundering of thirty-two tiny feet as they race away from it to the opposite side of the bin is simply deafening. Remove or replace their water dish and they scatter like billiards. Cough, sneeze, or make a sudden movement and little keet pinballs ricochet around the bin with panic-stricken eyes.

Good. Grief.

I'm starting to think that they don't like me. That we will never establish that special bond that exists between a momma and her babies. I'm trying not to take it personally but....sniff.

At least my chicks still love me. Ain't she purty?

They are now residing on the side porch in a temporary pen that I built. If they happen to catch a glimpse of my face as I walk by a window, the uproar begins. Contented twittering gives way to a racketous din as they clamor for my attention. I feel like the object of a fan club invasion.

We have ten hens and two roosters. One of the roosters I call Mr. Aloof. He is so stand-offish. If a chicken could be considered conceited, the label would suit him entirely. While the other chicks will at least pay attention to me when I beckon, he just tilts a jaundiced eye in my direction and stands his ground. Almost defiantly. And give me a break...he's only five weeks old. I shudder to think what he's going to be like once he has spurs so I'm already taking Mr. Attitude's measurements for the stockpot. I have enough strong-willed personalities to deal with. The other rooster has decided to attach himself to me permanently. I call him Braveheart. He thinks he's my boyfriend. Or maybe not. After all he is a bit young for romantic attachments, so could be it's just good old-fashioned momma love.

He's a charming little fellow, actually comes when I snap my fingers. Not only that, he runs as though his life depends on it. I keep expecting him to say, "At your service, ma'am!" As I said, charming. The porch was stifling hot today so we had them all outdoors in the back yard. I happened to look out the screen door as I was talking to Dwayne and here comes Braveheart, sprinting up to the patio like a lovesick suitor simply because he heard my voice. Yes, quite charming. I think we'll keep him around. Here he is after practically breaking a leg in his rush to get across the yard to me. Say "hello" to the nice people, Braveheart.

Forgive me if I sound a bit goofy but being around these characters so much has caused me to become a little.........shall we say.......birdbrained?

Keeeeeeets!!!!!!!!

2006-06-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

What? I didn't mention that I was getting a brood of guineas? Must have slipped my mind in all the excitement! Now that my babies......ahem, chicks.......are well on their way to adult chickenhood, I have again become a proud momma, this time to fifteen itsy bitsy baby pearl guineas, also known as keets.

I had read that they were tiny but was not prepared for the lilliputian little penguin-like faces that gazed up at me when I opened the box they had been shipped in. They are at least half the size of chick.....and twice as loud! It took them several hours to settle down from the stress of their two-day trip from the hatchery in Missouri, and in the meantime we were treated to a relentless high-pitched cacophony of shrieks, squeaks, and whistles. We called Dwayne at his job and held the phone down in the brooder. His description was apt: "Sounds like a jungle!"

Blogger is not allowing me to post photos for some reason so a description will have to suffice for now. They are very pretty with their tortiseshell-like coloring and bright peachy pink beaks and feet. Like chicks, though, not exactly candidates for Mensa. Their main focus when I first put them in the brooder was to scamper around, heads low to the ground, grabbing the exposed toes of their squawking siblings. They do bear a certain resemblance to worms I suppose. Thankfully that behavior stopped when they discovered the feed was something edible. I'm giving them a turkey starter mash since they need a higher protein concentration than chicks. They are eating and drinking (and pooping) with gusto now. They seem quite a bit more skittish than chicks and I understand that it takes hours of consistent handling to tame them. I don't know that I can devote that much time to fifteen keets so we'll probably each choose a couple to train and the rest will just have to be anti-social!

Please comment on your own experiences with guineas.........advice is always welcome!

You must read this book!

2006-06-13T17:01:00.000-05:00

Having long enjoyed Herrick Kimball's blog, and being familiar with his eloquent and heartfelt writing, it was with great pleasure that I received a copy of his newest book, Writings of a Deliberate Agrarian. Although eager to read it, once I began, I knew that this would be one of those choice books which one must savor in small, lingering bites, so forgive me, Herrick, in taking so long to write this review!

Our journey began not when we bought our current home, but months beforehand, when I providentially stumbled across a group of people blogging on the internet. They formed an online community of "Christian Agrarians." I immediately became intrigued by their thoughts and life experiences. God was calling me and challenging my sedentary, system-dependent way of life, and began using these voices to spur me on. And so, in faith, we stepped out and crossed a vast chasm into a new country. When I started my own blog at the beginning of this year to chronicle our agrarian pilgrimage, Herrick was one of the first to respond with a warm welcome, enthusiam, and advice. He is one of many "pioneers" whose online presence has been a source of wisdom and encouragement to me.

In Writings of a Deliberate Agrarian, which has almost a devotional feel to it, Herrick offers up a sampling of expressive writings on the life of a Christian agrarian: his own, to be specific. Whether it's sharing his thoughts and observations during a spontaneous lounge among his garden beds, or poking a hard-knuckled finger into the eye of the modern food industry, his words are at times poignant, often profound, and always powerful. These stories made me laugh, cry, and - most importantly - think. I was drawn into Herrick's heart and home, and my appetite was whet to not only know more, but to be a part of this good life, the simpler way.

Read Writings of a Deliberate Agrarian and you will be inspired, enlightened, and perhaps even encouraged to begin an agrarian journey of your own. I can promise that one way or another, you will be impacted by this book. In his Foreword, Herrick describes this collection of essays as "several teaspoon samples of a much larger feast." I agree with the exception that I would deem this book to be a feast with merit of its own. Enjoy the banquet!

Five Things About My Week

2006-06-06T15:12:00.000-05:00

Built a chicken pen.
Caught a cold.
Had a coughing spasm.
Acute lumbar strain.
Back soon.

The Chicken Chronicles

2006-05-30T09:09:00.000-05:00

I just now answered everyone's comments on my last posting. Forgive the delay, but we were suddenly deluged (and not with rain) around here. Several days of picture perfect weather prompted a flurry of outdoor activity. I haven't even been cooking indoors!

The chicks have been growing at an alarming rate. In two weeks they have progressed from adorable toddler to gawky adolescent. And I do mean gawky in every sense of the word. I almost expect them to break out in a rash of acne and ask for the keys to the car.

This gal was mighty proud of herself. As I was cleaning out the litter this morning she hopped up onto the roosting stick and, with a great leap and flapping of wings, launched herself upward onto the top of the food container. Thought she was hot stuff until she glanced down and became a little bewildered looking at everyone else still standing below her. I think they were a bit bewildered as well. She's the fasting growing and most athletic of the bunch, and the first to actually earn a name. I found myself calling her Madame Marie after a nickname the Terrorist Baby anointed me with when she was much younger. No idea why, just a four-year-old's whimsy of the moment I suppose. I have learned not to question the machinations of her extremely imaginative thought life!

I promise not to even mention chickens in my next posting! I am overdue with a review of Herrick Kimball's precious new book, Writings of a Deliberate Agrarian, so I will be devoting an entire post to that......see you next time!

My Babies Are Growing Up!

2006-05-24T21:51:00.000-05:00

The chicks are doing great......thanks to all who offered their advice! I think I got an especially healthy batch here, and God willing, we won't have any losses. Here are some recent pictures. (Excuse me if I sound like a proud momma!)

Look at them.....roosting like the big girls! I put a stick in the bin a couple inches off the floor the other day and they hopped right up there. I've even caught them sleeping on it. It amazes me to witness their God-given instincts.

Nobody told me how fast baby chicks grow. They are only a week old and they can FLY to the top of the bin! I had to put a gate on top or they'd be all over the dining room. A week ago they just had this little nub peeking out from the fuzz and now look at that wingspan. And tailfeathers, too!

Nobody told me what a sheep mentality baby chicks have. If someone does something, they all have to do it. One pecks on the side of the bin, they all come trotting over and peck. One starts chirping, they all have to chirp. One tries to fly, they all have to try. One goes to eat, they all have to eat. And so on and so on.

They get so excited when I come into the room.....first the peeps increase, then they start running around, then one of them flaps her wings, and of course everyone has to get into the act and pretty soon there's a riot going on. If I put my hand down inside the bin, there's a shoving match to see who can get up my arm the fastest. These little buggers are feisty!

Most hilarious of all is what happens when we dangle a worm overhead. One of the more aggresive chicks will grab it and take off around the perimeter of the bin with the rest of the brood in hot pursuit, cheeping frantically. Honestly, it looks like a football game the way they block and tackle as they scramble around. One will steal the worm and they'll have a tug of war over it. Or - even funnier - one (usually a cockerel for some reason) will snatch up a piece of the litter and start the "I've got something, come get me" cheeping, and start racing around until he has the whole gang after him, then he'll suddenly drop the litter and stand there innocently while everyone else is milling around wondering what happened. I knew I'd have lots of dumb chick stories but that sounds pretty smart to me! Is that how they get the ladies to chase them?

My other little chickie is growing up fast, too. She's lost her first two teeth within the last month. Next thing you know she'll have a family of her own. In between those two milestones, I hope to enjoy her every precious moment she's around!

I'm A New Momma!!!

2006-05-17T22:45:00.000-05:00

Lookee lookee!!! We got chicks!!! They came two days early! You should have seen the panicked scrambling around here as I ran around (like a chicken with its head cut off) trying to set up the brooder before I went and picked them up. Nobody told me they might come before they were scheduled to!

I got the phone call Tuesday afternoon. "Your chicks arrived two days early. We'd like you to come get them as soon as possible." Whaaaaat?!! Hyperventilating began in earnest as I realized I was not ready for this. I felt like I was in labor. Breathe, breathe. We made a mad dash to the feed store and brought them home in a cardboard box cozily ensconced on Isaac's lap, the heater in the car roaring, chicks chirping merrily - while we were all suffocating. Gasp. Breathe. Breathe. Back at the house finally.

I had set the bin up with pine shavings on the bottom, a layer of newspaper, and a layer of paper towels on top of that. Hey why not try all three? One of them should work, right? Light was clamped to a chair next to the box rather than hanging (because I wasn't ready, remember?). Waterer was full.....water plus some apple cider vinegar (thank you, Christina!) and a dose of probiotics.

Okay, deep breath.......taking the chicks out of the box (oh no, what if I squish one?), I gently tipped each ones beak into the water and set it loose in the bin. Hey! It worked! So far so good. (They must have read the same books I did.) They were so lively, peeping and running about. It seemed as though they were more curious than frightened. As soon as I scattered some feed on the paper they dove onto it, pecking madly. At the food rather than each other, thankfully. Good chickies! Are they not the cutest things you've ever seen? I know they're dense as a tree stump, but for cuteness, you have to give them an A+!

So here we are....and our adventure begins. Today I still have a dozen happy chicks. No casualties so I can't help getting my hopes up despite all the information I've received to the contrary. Honestly, I feel like a new mother. I keep running in to peek at them. Are they poopy? Are they hungry? Are they thirsty? Are they BREATHING? Well, you know the way they flop down to sleep....it looks like they're dead, so I keep checking. Oh, and I think they recognize me. At least when I show my presence they come running to me peeping their little hearts out. Awww.......they think I'm their mommy. This is fun!

Flood Update

2006-05-17T15:21:00.000-05:00

Isaac took this picture of the bridge-covered stream out back beyond our property boundaries which connects to a pond. It is normally a small bubbly brook, about ankle deep, but the heavy rains and flooding have turned it into a dangerous waterway.

One casualty was reported in MA of a NH man who apparently attempted to drive through a flooded street and was overcome in his vehicle. So sad. Many areas continue to be covered by water, some streets remain impassable, and hundreds of homes and business have sustained serious damage. May God help them.

Our basement is still wet, one of the pitfalls of owning an older home. The walls in the cellar are made of stones, not very well mortared, which makes it like a giant sieve. Leaks in the porch roof, leaks in our bedroom ceiling. Lots of repairs to make. Thankfully it is not the middle of winter and we will have many months in which to work on restoration before the cold weather hits again.

We woke to the first sunshine in over a week this morning. What a blessing to view a blue rather than steel gray sky overhead for a change. The lilacs are blooming profusely now and I'm happy for a day in which I can finally venture outdoors to stand in silent meditation while inhaling their heavenly aroma. Ecstasy. I bring armfuls in to arrange in vases around the house along with smaller bouquets of lily-of-the-valley. Purple violets blanket the lawn punctuated by the bright yellow heads of dandelions in a delightful array of color. The Lord is glorified within the power and beauty of His creation, whether it be a rushing river or a delicate flower, and as always, the sights and smells of spring lift my spirits and renew hope in my heart!

Rain Rain Go Away

2006-05-15T05:49:00.000-05:00

Have you been watching the weather reports for the Northeast?

Rising waters. Roads underwater everywhere. Streets closed. Ponds overflowing. Rivers raging. School and business cancellations. Flooding. Cars submerged. Dams on the verge of bursting. Evacuations. Mudslides. Fear.

This is our news today here in southern NH. We've gotten anywhere from 5-15 inches of rain in the past few days. Thanks be to God no one has gotten hurt in this deluge and hopefully people will continue to be cautious as the waters begin to subside later in the week. I think everyone remembers what happened in the western part of our state last year when there were several tragedies due to flood conditions.

I've never seen anything like this. Many towns are in a state of emergency. Hundreds of roads around the state have been shut down. Several roads in our own town are closed off this morning, including ours. We have a couple of streams that run through the upper and lower sections of the road. Both have risen up over the street. I hope the homes in the immediate area are safe. Our basement is wet with about a half an inch of water but thankfully our sump pump is working constantly, and I do mean constantly, to keep it at a low level. I'm grateful that our electricity has not gone out since we have no means of backup power like a generator.

The worst we've experienced is the water in the basement but as I watch the scenes displayed on the news of our little corner of the world, I see loss and heartbreak as people leave their homes and most of their worldly possessions at the mercy of the elements. Please pray for this area as you are led. I will post later with updates and hopefully some photos.

Motherhood

2006-05-14T07:28:00.000-05:00

Motherhood

The bravest battle that ever was fought!

Shall I tell you where and when?

On the maps of the world you will find it not;

'Twas fought by the mothers of men.

Nay not with the cannon of battle-shot,

With a sword or noble pen;

Nay, not with eloquent words or thought

From mouth of wonderful men!

But deep in a walled-up woman's heart -

Of a woman that would not yield,

But bravely, silently bore her part -

Lo, there is the battlefield!

No marshalling troops, no bivouac song,

No banner to gleam and wave;

But oh! those battles, they last so long -

From babyhood to the grave.

Yet, faithful still as a bridge of stars,

She fights in her walled-up town -

Fights on and on in her endless wars,

Then silent, unseen, goes down.

Oh, ye with banners and battle-shot,

And soldiers to shout and praise!

I tell you the kingliest victories fought

Were fought in those silent ways.

O spotless woman in a world of shame,

With splendid and silent scorn,

Go back to God as white as you came -

The Kingliest warrior born!

- Joaquin Miller (1839-1913)

Goodbye Old Friend

2006-05-09T11:37:00.000-05:00

We didn't know this tree for very long but there’s an ache in my throat as I watch it come down, and I wonder about the families who grew up in its shadow. Did they ever picnic beneath its gracious boughs on a warm Sunday afternoon? Did children swing daringly from its outstretched limbs, or climb it to snuggle intimately within its sturdy arms, perhaps with a favorite book in hand?

No, we did not know this tree for long, but we had grown to love and appreciate its beauty and stature. It has served to refresh our eyes as we passed by or gazed out of our windows. A multitude of birds have rested in its branches, waking us with their songs each morning. Woodpeckers have drilled for tidbits beneath its bark, raccoon babies have chattered shrilly for their dinner from way on high, squirrels have hurried and scurried playfully in its leafy labyrinth of branches. Its leaves turned golden in the fall and, as they fell, created a glowing blanket on the lawn. In wintertime it became a monument against the gray skies, its dark rustic branches lifted in mute testimony to its Creator. And now, in the spring of the year, with new life emerging from its fingertips, this dear tree - which has served as haven and shelter to so many - has been sentenced to die.

Our tree had been condemned before we moved in. We were warned that its trunk had become hollow; its elderly support system was giving way, and our home was in danger. We knew its time was short but it hurts to see it go. Today a team of men came with their big noisy machines and ropes and power tools. Soon our tree will be no more. Limb by limb, they sever the branches, feed them into a chipper and spit the remains into a truck that will carry them off. We never knew the age of our tree....perhaps as old as, if not older than, our house, which would make it almost 200 years old. Oh the silent witness it has borne through countless seasons. Imagine the tales it could tell. Goodbye old friend. We will miss you.

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

--- Joyce Kilmer

Dazed and Confused

2006-05-05T06:52:00.000-05:00

My perfectionist nature makes it difficult for me to make important decisions. After all, what if I'm........WRONG?!!!! I dillied and dallied for weeks over ordering chickens......what kind? how many? etc etc etc........until finally we just went into the local feed store, grabbed some supplies off the shelves and placed and filled out an order form for ten pullets and two cockerels. Not much of a choice either. You either got Rhode Island Reds or some kind of hybrid with a weird name.........or the broilers which we decided to wait on for now. Hm. Decisions, decisions. This one took me about two seconds. We went with the Rhode Island Reds. I understand them to be a decent dual-purpose breed. Dwayne is not exactly enthusiastic about having roosters around but gee, if we want to have a sustainable flock, I'm pretty sure the eggs need to be fertilized. :) I think he'll get used to the crowing......it's all part of the farm atmosphere, right? Anyway, they will be here on May 18, and I expect to be on here in a panic groveling and begging for advice from every agrarian who is more experienced in raising chicks than I. (That should cover just about every single person reading this.)

As the next two weeks progress, I know I will find myself tossing and turning at night, my head in a spin. What I'm most confused about is the information I've been reading. It seems to be so conflicting. This does not help my decision-making skills! Even the lady in the feed store gave me some different sets of instructions. And she was very cruel. She wouldn't even sell me a thermometer for the brooder. "Oh, you just watch how they act.....if they huddle in the middle it's too cold, if they scatter around the edges it's too hot." Aaargh! Isn't there a Chickens for Dummies book?

The Ploughman

2006-04-30T16:37:00.000-05:00

We plow the fields, and scatter the good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered by God’s almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter, the warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine, and soft refreshing rain.

All good gifts around us
Are sent from heaven above,
Then thank the Lord,
O thank the Lord
For all His love.

He only is the Maker of all things near and far;
He paints the wayside flower, He lights the evening star;
The winds and waves obey Him, by Him the birds are fed;
Much more to us, His children, He gives our daily bread.

We thank Thee, then, O Father, for all things bright and good,
The seed time and the harvest, our life, our health, and food;
No gifts have we to offer, for all Thy love imparts,
But that which Thou desirest, our humble, thankful hearts.

This beautiful picture was painted by a French artist, Georges Philibert Marionez. It exemplifies the toil that is necessary to reap the bounty of the Lord's hand, while the hymn reminds us of our Lord's sovereignty in all things. May we give thanks on this glorious Lord's day for His good gifts!

Home Insecurity

2006-04-25T23:00:00.000-05:00

We must have made quite the picture. Armed with baseball bat and bed rail as we snuck cautiously down the stairs inch by creaking inch. Who - or what - was in the house?

It started out as a peaceful, quiet evening. Isaac was spending the night with friends, Dwayne and Anna-Rose were fast asleep. The last one up, I had gone to bed around midnight, leaving doors and windows secure and lights off. Lying in bed reading, as is customary for me, I suddenly heard the jangle of the bell we keep hanging on the back door. What? Was Isaac back home for some reason? I scrambled out of bed and hurried to the head of the stairs calling his name. No response. Going down a few steps more, I shouted, "Isaac???" Nothing. Okaaaay......time to wake Dwayne up.

"Dwayne, I heard the back door!" Dwayne gets up, dresses quickly, and asks in hushed tones what we can use as a weapon. Uhhh....nothing? No, wait....there's a short metal bed rail in the attic. Armed with this less than deadly piece of weaponry, we both creep quietly down the staircase, pausing every few seconds in our descent. Isaac's room is off the hallway by the porch door, and Dwayne leaves me holding the bed rail while he sneaks into the bedroom and grabs an aluminum bat. Back in the hallway, he motions me to follow him into the living room. Step by step we move and pause, move and pause in the dark as we tiptoe toward the kitchen. Silence. (What happens if someone attacks Dwayne? Knocks him out? Shoots him? What am I going to do with a bad back and a bed rail? These thoughts race through my mind as my heart pounds.) Adrenaline is at an all-time high, and I learn what it means to literally have knocking knees!

Oh, the value of memorizing Scripture. The Lord envelopes me with His words, "You will not fear the terror of night......" Dwayne picks up a shoe and throws it into the kitchen hoping to startle someone into movement. Nothing. Again we move stealthily forward until we are in the kitchen doorway. Dwayne tosses his other workboot towards the dining room. All is still. Finally we are in the kitchen and he flips the light on and moves to investigate all over the downstairs and basement. It is vacant and silent except for the sounds of our heavy breathing and nervous chuckling. I have been known to make jokes in extreme circumstances, even while in transition during childbirth, and once again my humor rises to the occasion as I wryly inquire, "I have only one question.......12 gauge or 20?"

Beneath my frail attempt at humor lay fear, helplessness, and anger. We had no way of protecting ourselves and our home. No phone upstairs. No form of defense. No dog to bark and warn us. In our laxity and foolishness we hadn't even changed the locks since moving in. Which brings me to the point of this post. That night we had a lesson in preparedness, or rather, the lack thereof. This has been a popular topic on many blogs from time to time, and generally has addressed the methods of providing for ones family in the event of being cut off from the technology on which we are so dependent. Home security and defense is another area of preparedness - one in which we have personally been negligent up until this week.

We still don't know what happened that night......did I scare someone off? Could I have imagined the sound? All I know is that I never again want to experience those same feelings of defenselessness and violation.The next day Dwayne went out and bought new lock sets for the doors. The day after that he and Isaac drove up to Maine to a trading post that sells a wide variety of firearms. They came home with a Remington .20 gauge pump action shotgun which has been placed in an easily accessible but safe location in our bedroom. I'm breathing a little easier now although Isaac is still a bit nervous, perhaps because his bedroom is downstairs. I'm interested in hearing from other bloggers on this topic. Please share similar stories and advice on what you do to keep your homes the safe havens they should be.

A Day of Rest

2006-04-23T16:35:00.000-05:00

We've had some fears this past week so today is a welcome respite. Sickness. A possible intruder. Taxes!

The Lord's gifts are magnified in times of need and this day is one of thanksgiving.....a hallowed sense of being curved into the hollow of God's hand, secure and sheltered. Heart and soul, body and mind are overcome with His presence. His Creation is alive with praise and I immerse myself into this mystery of life and rejoice at simply being here in this place in this moment in time. May these memories nourish me when I am in a dry and barren land.

It has been a chill raw day but the smell of rain on newly tilled soil has redeemed it. Dwayne is outdoors feeding the first fire in the new pit he built and the rich incense of burning leaves and brush filters into the house. The smell of chili simmering on the kitchen stove adds to the warm homey aroma of woodsmoke to create a comforting atmosphere. My desk looks out upon the back yard and I can see heavy smoke drifting lazily across the tops of the trees as their black boughs stretch skyward to receive their anointing from above. I peer out to where I can hear the muffled laughter of father and daughter and see the hot red flicker of flames through a screen of lilacs. I put on my coat, grab my umbrella and camera and venture outside to document this adventure. I get to the pit just as Anna-Rose tosses some brush onto the fire. Wet pine boughs sizzle and spark as she leaps back and squeals in mock terror.

Back indoors I think upon yesterday. I spent the afternoon planting tomato and pepper seeds. Pushing them into the moist soil with bare fingers, a deeper understanding and appreciation of the greatness of our Almighty God stirred within me.

Awareness. Reverence. JOY!

He Is Risen!

2006-04-16T15:47:00.000-05:00

"I am the resurrection and the life.

He who believes in me will live,

even though he dies;

and whoever lives

and believes in me

will never die."

Rain Delay

2006-04-11T14:40:00.000-05:00

Our plans to take down the maple tree were deferred on Saturday thanks to a rainstorm the day before. Working on a wet tree is probably a bit hazardous and our friend called to cancel and reschedule for later this week. Looks like we may be rescheduling again if the forecast turns out to be accurate. We'll see.

Not much else to report. New life continues to abound. Our bird feeders are visited by a cardinal and his mate, numerous goldfinches, chickadees, and tufted titmice, a pair of downy woodpeckers, a hairy woodpecker, several juncos, mourning doves, a few timid bluejays and one lone fox sparrow. The chickadees are quite bold, even saucy, and I am convinced that we will have them eating out of our hands before long. Robins abound as they bounce and bob cheerily about the yard in search of earthworms. The crows wake us on occasion with their raucous cries, so jarring in the early morning light. I much prefer the sweet "phoeeebe phoeeebe" of the chickadee as my alarm clock.

Our lilac bushes are crowded with fat green buds, the forsythia is celebrating the return of the sun in its raiment of yellow splendor, and I am at a loss to name all the shoots of green and red I see popping up everywhere I look. Irises for certain, and maybe daffodils, but several unknown to me. It's a wait and see kind of spring!

We had a little visitor in the garden today, curled up in the dry grass catching some sun after his long hibernation.

He - or perhaps she - appeared to be not at all shy. Perhaps he was still a little dull and groggy from his long nap! It seemed as though he were studying us with curiousity in his calm gaze as Anna-Rose stroked his back gently, and when I slipped a hand under his neck and lifted him, he displayed no resistance. His skin was so soft, cool and smooth underneath. After a while Anna could no longer contain her exuberance at this new discovery, and he slithered off quickly, but gracefully, to his hideaway underneath the propane tank. I'm sure we'll find him sunning himself again another day.

We came upon another discovery today while shopping and the Terrorist Baby now has her own set of gardening tools. She is a bit excited to say the least and I'm certain that she probably has tilled at least a square acre of the yard in record time while I sit here at my desk. Better check on her progress!

Weather and Other News

2006-04-02T17:23:00.000-05:00

April

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.

You know how it is with an April day:

When the sun is out and the wind is still,

You're one month on in the middle of May.

But if you so much as dare to speak,

A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,

A wind comes off a frozen peak,

And you're two months back in the middle of March.

-Robert Frost

March may have crept out like a soft wooly lamb but appearances can be deceiving for April's weather has proven that the lion is not slumbering. After being lulled into complacency by several blue-skied balmy days, we had a surprise snowfall yesterday with freezing temperatures. This poor cardinal seemed flummoxed by the change in weather as well, and spent the afternoon huddled piteously in the bush outside the kitchen window. He might have been more cheerful had he known, as we did, that it would all be gone today. Looking out back I see that the ground is bare once more and the grass is greening up quite nicely.

Here are my husband and his dad taking a breather after completing the work on our new fire pit over the weekend.

Dwayne had done the majority of the work on Saturday, then Bob pitched in to help haul and assemble the last big rocks the following afternoon. New Hampshire, aka The Granite State, has more than its fair share of stones and they were able to put quite a few of them to good use. I don't think the fire department will have much to quibble about when they come by to inspect the pit. Currently there is a ban on burning because of the dry weather. Lots of wind but not much moisture. We can get a permit as soon as the ban is lifted.

During the warm weather we've been able to accomplish a fair amount of outdoor work, but the main event is to take place on Saturday when our monstrous maple tree will meet its demise.

I don't know how old the tree is but we have been assured that the trunk is hollow rendering it a dangerous threat to our home should it ever collapse. It must tower about 150 feet high with too many limbs to count, some as thick as tree trunks themselves, and measures just under 150 inches in circumference. Although I'm sure our friend whom we've hired to perform the deed knows what he is doing, I am a wee bit nervous, and debating whether to make myself scarce that day or hang around just in case since he has requested some assistance from Dwayne and Isaac. If I want to journal the affair with my camera I suppose I will have to remain on the premises.......a little too close for my own comfort to be sure.

More updates to come as they occur!

A Mystery

2006-03-31T14:04:00.000-05:00

Ah, Spring......renewal of life. The birds have put on their new frocks and we are treated to goldfinches flitting to and fro like airborne daffodils when they were a shabby brown only last week. Birdsong fills the house when we wake each morning.

As we rake out several years' worth of leaves from beneath the lilacs and other bushes around the house, each new finding brings exclamations of surprise and delight. I'm no expert but I believe we have uncovered tulips, daffodils, and irises peeping through the soil.

Our most recent discovery, however, has left me somewhat puzzled. Two days ago, on a trek through the wooded area that borders the back of our property, Dwayne and Anna-Rose unearthed this grisly relic.

We believe it to be bovine in nature. It has become the Terrorist Baby's new best friend. She calls it a dinosaur. I have explicit instructions to keep her out of the woods lest she excavate the entire skeleton.

So, a mystery. A corpse without a clue. Whose remains?

***Mystery solved!***

I've added more photos to show the top and bottom of our mystery skull. After much research online and closer examination of the skull we now are convinced that it is that of a domestic pig. Although the molars have level chewing surfaces, you can see the holes in the front where the other pointy teeth would have been. It is the only skull that has the type of steep angular slope to the forehead rather than a gradual flat slope.

While the identity of our "corpse" has been revealed, it makes us even more curious. We knew that there had been sheep on this property in the past, but hadn't heard about pigs. Perhaps even further back in history a farmer was sustaining his family with the food he grew and raised here. After all this house has been around for almost 200 years so it wouldn't be unlikely. More research to do!

Lamentations

2006-03-26T18:08:00.000-05:00

Woe is me! I had an un-lovely day yesterday wallowing in the mire of my own despair. My back was sore and I was feeling sorry for myself as I watched Dwayne and Anna-Rose having a good old time outdoors in the fresh air, working in the yard, making a compost bin, raking leaves. I have waiting so long for spring and now it's coming and I'm feeling old and achey and if I move just the wrong way I'll be laid up again. Oh woe is me........

Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

The Lord never promised to shelter me from pain. He never promised that the road would be free of obstacles, or that I would effortlessly scale the mountain top to which I aspire. The road is long, dusty, and filled with pitfalls; the mountain is high, the peak is foggy at times, and my feet stumble on the stones that tumble relentlessly into my path. But He has promised to pull me out of the miry clay and set my feet on high places. Yes I hurt....both physically and emotionally....but what victory have I but in Him? The strength of my heart and my portion forever.

St. Patrick's Lorica

2006-03-17T16:25:00.000-05:00

Though I am not Irish by any means, genetically or maritally, nor do I make it a point to wear any particular shade of green on March 17, wear a green carnation, drink green beer, or cook corned beef and cabbage, I find this hymn quite beautiful and worthy as a prayer on this day or any other.

St. Patrick’s Lorica
(translated from the Gaelic prose by Cecil F. Alexander)

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this today to me forever
By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;
His baptism in Jordan river,
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of cherubim;
The sweet ‘Well done’ in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,
The Patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the star lit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward;
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
By Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Back in Business

2006-03-05T15:47:00.000-05:00

After several days scuttling about in the involuntary impersonation of a question mark, it feels good to sit down in an upright position and write again. I want to thank all the dear people who posted comments, prayed for me, helped out by preparing meals, and just in general let me know that I am loved and needed. The Lord is good, and my cup runneth over!

There is a great deal of catching up to do around the house but it could be much, much worse. Anna-Rose makes a good nurse and is generous with compassionate prayers and gentle hugs and kisses, but this guy is "the man" when it comes to the nitty-gritty down and dirty business of running a household.

Isaac Daniel (aka Son#2)

He even managed to complete the majority of the priming and painting in the bathroom while doing laundry and washing dishes. He'll make a great wife - er, husband - someday! Seriously, in the midst of my physical trial, I was prompted to come to the Lord's feet with a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving for children who are able and equipped to help when necessary. Son#1 made an effort to call several times a day to check on me, and took time after a busy day at work to bring over a day's worth of some much needed medication so I could have a peaceful sleep. Although I don't usually go the prescription med route it did enable me to rest my body more comfortably and it was a small enough dosage that I did not suffer any residual effects.

So I'm back to normal, traveling at light speed, full throttle, pedal to the metal, and doing *too much* as is customary. Dwayne pointed out that when I have an idea, I want it to be done.......right away. The Bradshaws have set up a to-do list right on their blog. My format is similar but generously fills the entire length, breadth and depth of an office memo pad. My ambition too often exceeds my physical capabilities but that's where husbands and teenaged sons come in. I do find that they prefer to accomplish a task without help (or hindrance as the case may be if I am involved in the project) rather than take the time to teach me. So my carpentry and painting skills are almost non-existent and since I am a visual/kinesthetic learner, following directions in a book is a blueprint for failure. Contrary to modern methods of teaching, when I was still in high school, shop class was for the boys and sewing and cooking for the girls, and my daddy was not a handy fellow around the house. Dwayne says that carpentry would be easier for me with power tools but the idea of me with such a device in my hand when I can't even chop an onion or grate a block of cheese without involving my fingers in the process creates such a spasm of fear in my mind that I literally black out for a minute or two. Guess I'll continue to stick to safe tasks like folding towels and feeding the cat.

The weather is beginning to settle down and become more temperate. As the ground thaws, our driveway has warmed up enough to be the color and consistency of a thick chocolate pudding. The Terrorist Baby has experienced her every heart's desire in that delicious swamp of goo - stomping, splattering, sitting, digging, crawling, sliding, falling (accidentally and deliberately) - everything except tasting it. Not trusting her common sense, and taking her blondness into account, I carefully examine the corners of her mouth each day for traces of mud. With all that muck combined with her passion for role-playing I never know when she might be inspired to play This Little Piggie.

#235 - Invest in pair of sturdy rubber boots

#568 - Lay gravel in driveway

It's just about time to start our seeds indoors. I see that even though he is further north, Steven has gotten a head start on me. He does have the advantage of a greenhouse and hoophouse which is also somewhere on my list, page 35 I believe. I need to sit down with my packets of seeds and planting guide and set up a schedule. Today I realized that we may have to take down some other trees beside the killer maple that is threatening to crush our house. Three or four older pines at the back of the yard are blocking the sun because of their height, and will probably need to have their tops lopped off before they are felled.

Rain is predicted on and off for this week and the temperature will be in the high 40's on average so I anticipate being able to get outside and and take care of some work around the property like measuring off the planting beds. We need to find a source for free lumber to put around the raised beds. Pallets, maybe? I also thought of getting a soil test kit. If that would be waste of money, someone let me know before I spend it! I know that when we bought this place the grass was growing very lushly all around it so the soil must be in good shape.......?????

More news to come as it happens!

Down But Not Out

2006-03-02T08:00:00.000-05:00

A storm blew in last Saturday night and covered us once more with several inches of snow so outdoor work was put on hold again. We've had gusty winds and frigid temperatures during the beginning of the week but it looks like it may get above freezing today. At least the skies have been sunny and blue!

I'm going to be taking a little break.....hopefully not more than a week. I shoveled the back of our house and driveway a bit too enthusiastically Sunday afternoon and threw my back out. The kids have been wonderful keeping the household going while I take it easy and we've been getting lots of read-aloud time together. There are always blessings amidst the trials.......

Learning and Growing

2006-02-24T17:20:00.000-05:00

Look what the mailman brought on Thursday!

I started reading Pastured Poultry Profits that night after dinner then brought it to bed with me. After the words began swimming on the page and I kept losing my place, I finally put it down and forced myself to shut off the light. Joel Salatin's operation is far and above what we plan to do here and there were a couple of things with which I disagreed, but he does have a lot of experience and wisdom to share which I am certain we will profit from. I think we will take his advice not to order chicks until they can be shipped when the temperatures are at a consistent 50 degrees or more to avoid health problems from the cold. That gives us plenty of time to fix up a brooder, build a pen, arrange for feed, etc.

My seed order from Baker Creek arrived this afternoon. As I tore open the big yellow padded envelope a profusion of colorful packets tumbled out......33 to be precise. I must have been feeling extra ambitious when I ordered them......or delirious! They also included a planting guide which looks to be helpful. I've saved up about a million cartons and plastic containers so now I'll have to determine which ones to start indoors and when, not to mention where. Thankfully I have wide windowsills and lots of sunny windows plus an enclosed porch.

About a week ago Anna-Rose planted a sunflower in a pot of compost she charmed out of a local farmer at our state agricultural show, and it's already six inches tall. I wasn't planning on planting any flowers this year....we have plenty already on the property....but sunflowers are useful besides being beautiful so I'm encouraging her to plant more. KSMilkmaid has some great ideas for including children in growing and learning about vegetables, wildflowers, and herbs. Who needs to sit behind a desk to learn when you can be up to your elbows in the soil with the One who created it as your teacher?

God Is Good No Matter What

2006-02-16T15:22:00.000-05:00

Dwayne has been the recipient of some trials this week. Early on in the week he needed to replace a very expensive piece of equipment and the very same day on the way home his Jeep blew a tie rod and died on the highway. He has two choices: replacing the engine or buying another vehicle. Thankfully he was able to use my car to travel to the jobsite a couple of days but then needed to rent an SUV to haul equipment that won't fit in my trunk. With taxes coming up, this is tough on us but the Lord is ever faithful and will see us through. He has a long record of promises kept and we have no reason to doubt that He will continue to provide as He vows in His Word.

Our long list of indoor projects is addended on a daily basis. Seems we just cross one off and another materializes to take its place. Today I've stripped the top layer of wallpaper from the bathroom and now have to spray and scrape the remainder underneath as well as scrape and sponge off the glue layer. Messy tedious work especially since the sprayer was totally uncooperative and I ended up using sponges to soak the walls. Ugh. Even wearing gloves, ugh. The Terrorist Baby helped me for quite awhile and even encouraged me when I was ready to fling the sprayer through the window after pumping it for the millionth time with no results......"Don't cry Mama." She's a terrorist but a compassionate one. The Lord often uses her to minister to me at times like this when I'm ready to throw in the towel. I just had to take a break after getting a grand total of one wall cleaned off. The wallboard at the top was disintegrating because some moisture had seeped through the ceiling at some point in the past, and it looks like some patching is in order, so I'll leave that to the expert to address this weekend. I discovered a lovely patch of mildew under one section that had me grimacing in dismay. Ugh again. Eventually we plan to gut the whole room and redo it but in the meantime a fresh coat of paint on all surfaces will do wonders.

Anna-Rose just asked to go out and play. Hopefully she won't blow away, although knowing her she'll be out there with her umbrella with the anticipation of being carried off into the clouds like Mary Poppins. We're experiencing some extremely high forceful winds today and the promised buckets of rain simply did not materialize. After an ominous slate grey morning with a few sprinkles, it became gusty with a backdrop of sunny blue skies and puffy white clouds. Wondrous thing, the New England weather. Keeps us in mind of Who is really in control. It certainly isn't the meteorologists. I'm in prayer at this very moment because of that huge hollow maple tree that is leaning frighteningly over our side porch just swaying and bowing its branches up and down in rhythm to the wind. How something that enormous can sway is beyond me. If it ever takes a tumble that side of the house will go with it.

Just checked on the terrorist and she's up to her armpits in mud out in the driveway. Having the time of her life. What a blessing it is for her to be able to do that after living the first six years of her life in an apartment. God is good, and I don't care how many boots I have to hose off or clothes I have to wash. His Creation is her playground now and I am so thankful for this place.

We've already lost power once today for an hour and I hope it stays on because I have a nice pot of bean soup bubbling away in the kitchen and hope to bake some corn muffins to accompany it for dinner. Now if I had a lovely wood cookstove........losing power would not be such an earth-shattering difficulty. Someday, Lord willing!

I'd better go and check on Anna-Rose and see if we have any limbs down in the yard. One day I opened the back door to her grinning face and an armful of saplings she had cut down. To decorate her room she explained. And of the course the bathroom awaits.........

Got Snow?

2006-02-12T15:09:00.000-05:00

This was the scene looking out back earlier today. We'd been getting snow since before dawn. A beautiful sight but a little too nippy for a walk with the low temperatures and blustery wind, though by the time I took this photo it had died down a bit.

We were treated to a comical sight by the bird feeders in the lilac bush by the back door. The juncos were burrowing in the snow to get at the seeds on the ground, squabbling and bickering like a flock of hens. They made quite the amusing spectacle: feathers puffed out on fat round bodies, topped with tiny mound for a head, with a startlingly bright yellow-orange beak that appears to have been stuck on almost as an afterthought. Dwayne thought they looked like miniature penguins shuffling and trundling about.

Despite this new onslaught of snow, our hope for spring remains. It's hard to believe that what lies dormant now will soon be teeming with activity in barnyard and garden. I've spent the past several days searching determinedly through catalogs and websites for seeds to order. That was my goal for the week. Yesterday the deed was consummated and in a short while my mailbox will be jammed with brightly colored envelopes filled with possibilities. I'm sure my experienced agrarian correspondents will be slightly aghast at the sheer number and variety of seeds I ordered in my feverish naivete, but here is a list, and scold if you must!

Melons - American - Golden Honeymoon
Melons - American - Golden Jenny
Beans - Old Homestead (Kentucky Wonder Pole)
Broccoli - Romanesco Italia
Brussels Sprouts - Long Island Improved
Corn - Golden Bantam Sweet Corn
Carrots - St. Valery
Cucumber - Japanese Long
Peppers - Hot - Cayenne Long Thin
Lettuce - Forellenschluss
Lettuce - Lollo Rosso
Lettuce - Gentilina
Melons - European - Boule d'Or (Golden Perfection)
Melons - European - Charentais
Greens - Assorted - Wrinkled Crinkled Cress
Onion - Yellow of Parma
Oriental Greens & Cabbages - Komatsuma Tendergreen
Peppers - Sweet - Topepo Rosso
Peppers - Sweet - California Wonder
Parsnip - Harris Model
Italiko Rosso Dandelion
Radish - Easter Egg
Chef's Choice Mixed Greens - Rocky Top Lettuce Salad
Swiss Chard - Five Color Silverbeet (Rainbow Chard)
Spinach - Bloomsdale Long Standing
Squash - Winter - Bush Buttercup
Squash - Summer - Lemon Squash
Squash - Summer - Striata d'Italia
Tomatoes - Red - Tappy's Heritage
Tomatoes - Red - Pantano Romanesco
Tomatoes - Red - Red Grape
Watermelon - Blacktail Mountain

I decided to purchase from the Baker Creek catalog so I could get everything I wanted in one shot, and I accidentally ordered two melons I had intended to omit. I do hear that a certain party in Minnesota may be expanding his operation to include seed peddling so that will be a future option to look forward to. If anyone knows of a source for heirloom herb seeds that includes a wide variety of medicinal herbs I would appreciate it. It seems that of all the places I've checked, the majority of the herbs are culinary although some do serve dual purposes.

Which puts me in mind of chickens. I'm having a very difficult time finding a hatchery that sells what I want except for McMurray's. I've narrowed it down to Plymouth Barred Rocks, New Hampshire Reds, and Buff Orpingtons. From what I understand they may all be used as both layers and meat. Online I can find nothing in this state; as a matter of fact, I can't locate anything in New England. How can I find a local farmer who will sell newly hatched chicks? I did find one only an hour from us who will have guineas in the spring so I'm excited about that. With all the tick (and other insect) problems we have here, I thought they would be quite beneficial.

And so, slowly but surely, our plans proceed. All in the Lord's timing and with His approval as we pray and seek His wisdom and guidance. "In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps. - Proverbs 16:9; Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails. - Proverbs 19:11"

As usual, I welcome and encourage (actually I beg and plead!) for advice......."Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed. - Proverbs 15:22"........ All of you in this agrarian community are in the estimable position of being my mentors and guides, and I consider you my friends as well as we journey on down this road together, each at his own pace, but with similar aspirations.

One Step at a Time

2006-02-09T15:13:00.000-05:00

I grew up in a chaotic household, to put it mildly. My mom had her hands full: separated from my dad, she spent her time working an assortment of part-time jobs with too many kids and too many pets left to fend for themselves. Ours was a God-less home and we children were undisciplined and unsupervised a good deal of the time. This is not to condemn my mother who did the best she could with what she knew, but to explain my nature. My response was to rebel and become what was completely antithetical to the environment in which I was raised. I do not thrive on chaos nor do I relish being in the midst of a crisis. Au contraire, I delight in putting things in order and keeping them that way.

When we bought this property a few months ago, at first I was totally in my element. While Dwayne was hard at work as our family's provider, I was industriously creating the blueprint for our new agrarian way of life: researching, organizing, planning. That's who I am. That's my gift. That's what I do best.........Hey, that's even what my name means! Wait!!!! {sound of brakes screeching} What comes first? The chicken or the egg? No, seriously. I mean......do we incubate eggs........or do we buy newly hatched chicks? Where do we get them? What's going in the garden? How do we make raised beds? What about an orchard? Dairy goats? Should we get a dog? As Winnie the Pooh would say, "Oh help and bother."

Beyond the swirling confusion of questions and ideas and list making and fact finding, there is One whose very presence is the peace I seek. I take a deep breath and settle into His calm sea of tranquility. Thank you, Lord. Where You have led, You will provide. Foolish me, thinking that I need to be in control when You are the author and finisher of my faith. You lead me beside still waters, You restore my soul. Quiet my mind that I may hear Your still small voice in the inner depths of my heart. Where You lead, so shall I follow. One step at a time.

Long Live the Family Farm

2006-02-04T08:41:00.000-05:00

We spent Friday afternoon at the NH Farm and Forest Expo. Talked to a variety of folks about this and that. This morning I was chagrined when I realized that I had completely forgotten to ask anyone their opinions on the NAIS! We went our separate ways as Anna-Rose chased down baby chicks and goats, I interrogated a gentleman from the state wildflower commission about pruning my lilacs, and Dwayne fell in love with a sawmill. We came home with armloads of flyers, leaflets, and pamphlets on everything from organic gardening to outdoor wood burners. And we got that great bumper sticker you see above plus a T-shirt displaying the same slogan. When my mom saw it she was reminded of a friend and her husband who just sold off part of their farmland to a developer who is now putting up 192 houses.

ONE....HUNDRED.....NINETY......TWO!!!!!!!!

The biggest shame was that despite the fact that they have raised twelve children they had to do it so they would have the money to pay their taxes. It's such a blessing to see all the agrarian bloggers who are creating an inheritance for their children, as it should be.

This past week found us traipsing around to all our favorite antique shops searching for furniture to fill all the nooks and crannies. Dwayne came across a great old spinet desk which will be perfect for doing his paperwork. I needed one as well but he saw it first! We also picked up a couple of wall cupboards for storage and yet another bookcase. Let's see.....that must make about sixteen now. Oh, and a very interesting piece labeled "old locker" which fits the bill for the kitchen island we needed, and it was quite the steal. Waist high with four square doors on the front which open to reveal a shelf and drawer behind each.

This morning Dwayne was off to the dump first thing and is now hanging the storm windows on the porch. We discovered them in the basement along with screens! Now all we need is a porch swing to go with our rocking chairs. My own plans for the day include painting bookshelves, stripping wallpaper, and scraping paint from window panes. God willing, it will be a productive day for all!

A Rose By Any Other Name.....

2006-01-30T16:29:00.000-05:00

To call her the Terrorist Baby seems unfair in this picturesque pose, so allow me to introduce my daughter Anna-Rose, a name given to her by the Lord at the moment of her birth, but that is a story for another time.

All week I've been experiencing a case of the winter doldrums that seem to strike about this time every year. It doesn't help that the weather has been so fickle, taunting us with hints of spring only to dump another half a foot of snow on our foolish schemes. It therefore seemed fitting that I should treat myself - and anyone else who stops by - for a sample of what is slumbering beneath the soil in our yard. The Lord has truly blessed me with my dream of dreams in leading us to this home. We first viewed the house in August of last summer when many of the blooms had already passed. Anna-Rose is inhaling the sweet scent of white phlox in this photo while behind her stands Bee Balm, also called Monarda. It has a spicy aroma not unlike oregano to my thinking. The yellow flowers are Black-Eyed Susans which grow in proliferation around the house and back yard. Spring and summer's coming attractions include:

Day Lilies
Bearded Iris (all around the barn!)
Peonies
Roses (pink!)
Sweet Peas
Lilies of the Valley (delicious perfume)
Rhodendron
White Coneflower (Echinacea!)
Forsythia

Add to this vision row upon row of lilacs in every imaginable color - a heavenly parade down both sides of the back lawn with one huge bush smack dab in the center! Somebody pinch me!

Somewhere in the midst of this lovely garden of tranquility, farm life will be taking place. Vegetables and herbs will be planted, chickens will roam, goats will frolic, and God's creation will flourish. Being a practical sort, I can almost envision the future with my flowers being eaten by chickens and trampled by goats and vice versa! I suppose it will make for an interesting blog at any rate! Stay tuned for further developments.