Welcome Spring!

It is hard to believe just two weeks ago we were wearing snow boots and attending to the wood stove.  Now the windows are open, the ceiling fans are spinning and it seems we've jumped right into early summer.  It may not last but we are enjoying it.  

The girls have moved most of their day outside packing little suitcases full of toys, crayons and coloring books, then with a little blanket roll under their arms they are off.  Usually a few chickens, a cat and a younger brother follow as they settle into their favorite shady spot in the front yard.

We bagged our usual family home evening routine this week and called for foot races in the hay field instead.  They all decided it is hard to race in farm boots and they all slept very well that night.

It is hard to put into words all the senses of spring, if I could record the sounds here I would, the birds, the toads, the crickets, bleating goats, laying hens, purring kittens and playing children.  All owning their unique call in the celebration of life, it sounds like heaven.

But I will say as someone new to farm life I'm finding the smells to own their own pungency that are quick to remind me of my senses.  The flowers and grasses are quite pleasant and I suppose it may take time for the smell of animal to become familiar enough to be called pleasant as well.

The overnight change in season had me feeling unprepared like one of the  foolish virgins.  My children were tossing all sorts of hats, mittens and snow clothes aside in search of their favorite sneakers and tie dyes.  What I normally would call "the big switch" became the big bomb.

Maryanna rediscovered her skirt with petticoat and found it to be the perfect uniform for practicing head stands and cartwheels - watch out Cupcake!  

And now it is time to set some boundaries for our friendly bunch of hens.  It is hard to stay away from children who offer so many hugs and handouts but the chicken poop on the front porch and scratching in the flower beds have got to stop!  The top of Paul's weekend to do list involves several rolls of chicken wire.   

With the chicken area well defined we'll be ready to make movement on our summer garden plans.  The boys drew me out a map on graph paper, the girls have been sifting through garden catalogs and I am simply trying to balance out the possibilities and the realities, both of which are great.

I suggested to Paul that we build a small play structure in the middle of the garden to lure in helpers, he suggested we keep things simple, and that is actually how most our possibilities and realities work themselves out.  And whatever comes of it we all feel giddy with anticipation. 

So here's to a new season and our first springtime on the farm.........

Farm Fashions for Spring

I never thought I'd ever be shopping for clothes at Tractor Supply.  

Paul was there a few weeks ago picking up supplies for the lambs and let me know there was a huge rack of Women's clothing on clearance.  He sifted through the racks with me on the other end at home and  my first response was "don't waste money on something I won't wear, I don't wear clothes from feed stores".  He kept insisting and since the shirts were only $7 he said he was bringing one home anyway.

Carhartts were on sale too, he knew I'd love the lined purple vest for only $14 but wasn't sure the size - I told him definitely a large.  He brought the goods home (in the same bag as the tail docking supplies) and I actually loved the fit of the button down, I liked the vest too but it was too big.  So what did I do - I sent him immediately back to pick up 3 more shirts and the vest in a smaller size.  Which brings me to confess not only did I shop for clothes at the Tractor Supply, but I sent my husband there as my personal shopper, I love that he also grabbed a pink Carhartt hoodie without even having to ask my opinion.

The rest of my look for spring was completed with the online purchase of some Rosie workwear overalls.  These are an essential part of my milking uniform (I'm still working on aim) and will be great for the garden.   The Bogs I picked up last summer on clearance at DSW a few days after securing a contract on our farm and the garden clogs were my moms that she found in an old box during her last visit to MI.

Now the last of the accessories that make this all work is the stack of folded baby wraps, only a few of will be reserved for farm and garden work because they are sure to get soiled.  

And here it is all is together on my way out for morning milking - farm wear has taken my wardrobe well beyond the usual mom wear.   It is surprisingly fun and essentially functional.  

Feeding Time

Feeding times are what rule our family's new rhythm.  It's forcing me out of bed early and demanding that everyone else is also up and playing their part.

My part has been more than demanding moving from nursing Charles, cooking breakfast, milking goats, bottle feeding baby goats and back again to nursing my own baby.  Childcare mixed with goat care is certainly an interesting process but we are smitten with these sweet animals and finding so much joy in their care.

I've already described my feelings to a few friends........I've never been more stretched and tired in all my life yet I've never been so alive.

Peter is feeding "Yagi" above and William is feeding "Sachi".  They are nicknamed the "greedies" because they finish their bottles so fast and jump all over in hopes to steal from the other two, Princess and Zara, who have a harder time taking the bottle.

Princess and Zara have been mostly successful in nursing but we like to feed a bit of the milk back to them to be sure they are getting what they need.  But getting those two to take a bottle is harder so it usually falls (literally) in my lap.

Here I am trying to make it work with Charles in a sling.  It was as awkward as it looks but Princess finally took what she needed and Charles slept through the whole process.  They may be developing a special bond to each other.

Charles cries a lot when he's not being held so sometimes it is easier to just keep him wrapped to me while I'm concentrating on goat care, even during the milkings.  But I have recently become more demanding in having the oldest brother exercise his patience in caring for a crying baby, it has been good for all of us.  James is developing the magic touch with his youngest brother and they are definitely developing a special bond.

From one feeding time.......

.....to another.

Feeding time is not just for the one offering and the one consuming, it is a peaceful time where the other younger children and other animals like to gather.  Here are a few of them not too far from my seat quietly enjoying feeding time on this unusually warm day.  I love when they are all so still and near, it is rare. 

Here is Clara and Pickles and then Henry soaking up some sun.

Off to bed, the baby goats only require 3 feedings a day but Charles is nursing round the clock every 3-4 hours so if I'm not busy feeding someone it would be wise to rest.

Guess Who?

It's Arabella, the 3 year old Nubian goat that just joined our farm this weekend.  She is here with her two babies and another doe, Yuleme, and her two babies.  Our friends needed to find an immediate home for these ladies and we were more than happy to help them out.

Of course we transported them in the back of the family van.

And my kids think the kids are irresistible.  They have named them Princess, Zara, Sachi (Japanese for bliss) and Yagi (Japanese for goat).

These animals have taken our farm experience to a whole new level, there's too much to say about that now.  So how will we manage?

With one very willing to learn and do farmer Dad.......

and a newborn baby wrapped on my back.  Let the milking adventure begin!

This Little Piggy

It feels like Spring!  Here's the happenings from this week so far:

This little piggy dug a hole



This little piggy started a water fight (in 50 degree weather)



This little piggy did laps on his bike

This little piggy hand fed some animals (and later reported that the kittens loved the deli meat she found in the fridge)

This little piggy discovered it was more fun to be barefoot outside



This little piggy played basketball



This little piggy followed his Daddy into the pasture (in his baby Carhartt's)

While the littlest little piggy wet "wha, wha, wha" then took a nap with his mommy in the sun

How to love fat

I've been itching to make butter ever since my sister in law posted about it a few weeks ago.  So we picked up some fresh cream from our cow share and were surprised at how simple the process was.

All I did was poor it into the food processor, add a bit of salt and press "on".

In less than 10 minutes I heard a sloshing sound and saw it had separated.

I poured off the liquid (buttermilk) and saved it for baking or pancakes.

Then pressed the remaining solids into a few butter jars.

Of course we spread it on warm toast right away.  And here we are only a few days later and we are already halfway through it all (maybe because I've caught a few fingers in it eating it straight?)

It is kind of funny how afraid I use to be of butter, or any fat for that matter.  But now I am in a season where fats (the good ones) are an essential part of my diet.  I'm in no place to articulate the "why's" but after reading Weston Price's Nutrition and Physical Degeneration I was convinced that I my body (and my children's) could benefit from more nutrient dense food.  And I love that one of the ways in which we do that is through butter and full fat dairy products!

In addition to butter I have been consistent in taking fish oil.  This is not as yummy as butter and actually a bit expensive but I do it as an investment in my long term health.  Not all my children will take this willing, they prefer other brands that are flavored, but George and Henry would drink this (the fermented one) straight from the bottle if I allowed them to, probably because I've been taking this since they were both very young and throughout my pregnancies.  I admit it was very hard for me to swallow at first but after a few years it is starting to taste good to me too!  They do make cinnamon and chocolate flavored variations but I prefer my fermented fish oil as is.

Now this brings me to a few more thoughts on fat.  I was changing in front of the mirror the other day and felt the corners of my mouth start to turn down to a frown, I heard the old crazy voice that existed even before I was a teenager say......"you are fat"!  The pattern is all too familiar.......it opens the door to feelings of disgust and in turn triggers the action of physically abusing myself in the form of depriving myself of food, or over exercising, or both.  

This time I fought back violently with the thought..... I am not fat, I am me.  Sure I have a bit of excess flesh after having my eighth baby but that flesh is there to serve me, it provides soft cushion to cuddle a squishy newborn and it is the very reserve that nourishes my baby, protecting me from further physical depletion.  

Why is it that we are so crazy as new mother's to "get back to normal" physically?  Maybe the "normal" I am trying to get back into (size 2 skinny jeans) is not even normal at all, maybe I am already "normal" right now and what I'm trying to get back into is "crazy". 

This may sound all too personal but it feels good to process, even if it is in front of an unknown audience.  And even if my only audience was my two little daughters I would shout it out to them from the depths of my heart and up top the high roof of our old barn because this battle is so unserving to the beautiful and powerful women it plagues.  Oh how I wish someone would have declared it to me at a much younger age, from their heart, that I was beautiful, that all women are beautiful, no matter what the shape, size or form.   

So still standing there half dressed in front of the mirror my thought process continued, it turned from beating myself up over excess flesh to the chuckling thought...."my body looks like a renaissance painting........I am a masterpiece".  What a refreshing thought, I then looked up at my pregnant belly cast and thought of all the amazing things my body was capable of, including growing a baby and giving birth.  

Our bodies are a gift no matter what the shape or size, and our worth is not dependent upon the variables of our physical form.  I can't believe it has taken me so many years to understand this truth but I do look forward to the freedom it will allow in living it.  Because the truth is this is a battle I faced even wearing size 2 jeans.

Now that doesn't mean I'll be stuffing my face with cookies and fast food because that is just another form of physical abuse.  But I will certainly eat when I am hungry and love the food that I eat, butter on my bread, whole milk in my cereal and liberal amounts of olive oil on my veggies.  And simply love being me, in any physical form, however that may look, today.          

2012 Pinewood Derby

So the Pinewood Derby crept up on us in the midst of all our lovely days of doing nothing.  I pretty much dropped the ball on all that was required of me that day including some brownies that were flopped.  In my fog I nodded to James that he could use avocado oil for baking - they were also neglected in the oven, not burned but over cooked enough that we could barely get a knife through them. So they did not make it to their spot on the refreshment table.  I already posted a pretty lengthy facebook update about it that evening but thought it might be fun to have a record of it here as well.

The cars were barely completed in time and both were still sticky in hand with paint and glue on the ride over (good thing it is a 25 minute ride).   William is a Webelo but I have yet to sew on his Wolf and Bear badge, same for Peter he's still waiting for his Bobcat badge.  At least we found the shirts!

Anyway, despite my neglect it turned out to be another exciting night of racing cars.  I stayed home with the baby but Paul was there cheering them on with Nanny and Poppy, their cousin David and all the younger siblings.  While I so enjoy assisting in the design process Paul has mastered the variables of speed.  Wiiliam once again took second while Peter was a very close third (they are still arguing over the distance "I was only a millimeter behind" - "no, you were at least a centimeter").

Here the cars are alongside the others from past years.  Most of the design inspiration has come from the Henry Ford museum and our extensive collection of matchbox cars.  Not pictured are the traditional 1/2 inch licence plates created on adobe with name, date and State.  With 6 boys now we figure we'll end up with a collection of at least 16 cars.

William's first design idea for this year's car was a Jedi star fighter but thought it would be too intricate to carve, so he settled on the streamlined winged helmet car. We were pressed for time so we skipped painting on the details and used yellow construction paper  and ModgePodge instead.

Here is Peter's car.  It has sort of a futurist body with him in driver's seat and his hen "Mendori" riding as the passenger.  He had plans to graffiti it with all sorts of symbols including pi, infinity and yin/yang.  But since we were short on time we simply glued on 3 simple stars.  You can see we didn't wait long enough for the paint to dry as it is also decorated with lots of smudgy finger prints.  But I'd say it adds to the personality of the car.

After the event Paul treated everyone to Jimmy John sandwiches.  I was already asleep by the time they got home but the boys were so excited to give the report that they ran into my room, turned on the lights and threw a wrapped Jimmy John's sandwich at me to wake me up.  Normally it irritates me to be woken up so abruptly (especially when I know I'm already heading into a night of disrupted sleep) but it was worth it to witness the triumph they were still riding, besides, nursing makes me really hungry so I gobbled down the entire sandwich before they could even get out all the details.  As trophies they each brought home a stainless steel water bottle. 

And finally, after reviewing all the photos Paul emailed me from the event I decided it was time once again to get out the hair clippers.  We just took care of that a few days ago but still in my fog I can't say the hair cuts turned out any better than the flopped brownies.  But at least hair grows and these boys aren't too fussy.......they eventually dug out all the scraps and crumbs of the brownies, consumed them with compliments and never even mentioned the missing badges from their Boy Scout uniforms.