Of The Father's Love Begotten

We had a hymn sing yesterday morning. Pastor ignored me, (not really) so I didn't get to request this one. Here is it's story. And two versions.

This one is the pretty one. It's good.



But this is my favorite.



I love plainsong. Especially when sung by under-5's using hand motions and with their pants unbuttoned!

First Hunt

Remember this? I don't usually post on a Sunday, but a momentous event occurred last night.

Little cat went hunting. The results were not pretty. For the vole, anyway. At first, he wasn't sharing with anyone. Especially not Henry.



But he was really proud of his first kill, and wanted to show us that he's worth the food and water we give him, not to mention the warm and cozy barn to sleep in.



Well done, good big little cat. We've been calling you Four Socks, kinda sorta after Two Socks in Dances With Wolves. Perhaps now we should change your name to Hunts For Voles.

Saturday Thaw

Christmas Eve, it was -3. Today, it's 49.

Christmas Day, the view out the back window was much like this, only moreso. The snow was up to the top of my barn boots, about 18". In fact, yesterday the view out the back window was like this:


This morning, the view was more like this:



That's less than 18 hours, folks. Imagine the water. Or, look at it:



Now, some people might heave a sigh of relief over this turn of events. Me, I just sighed...when I stepped in a puddle and realized that my barn boots had finally worn through! Nothing like wet, wool socks in the morning. But at least the girls were brave enough to venture out this morning.

Boxing Day

Yes, today is. And check out EC's take on it. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

What a neat idea; a day to rest and recuperate from the fun of hosting 25 for turkey and ham dinner. The turkey and ham were OK; it was all the candy and goodies that I asked people not to bring! I know I gained a little this week; weigh-in on Monday will be rough!

Here, today, we slept in, except for John and Ethan. Ethan had a plane to catch at oh-God-hundred. Really; they were up at 4. He flew down to Dallas for the Texas Wing Winter Encampment (Civil Air Patrol.) If you check the Cadet Staff list, under Medical, that's our boy, Officer In Charge. No, we're not proud. When he returns from there, he'll be leaving home. -sniff- He'll be moving to Wisconsin Air Academy, to work on their Cadet Staff. From there, in April, he'll be off to Army Basic Training.

Then Jay brought the JP4lings over, to see John's parents again, before they went home. It was good, as always, to see them playing and laughing. The kids were cute, too.

Now the dishes are all, finally, clean and put away. We've had naps and computer time, so we're off to treat ourselves to a dinner where someone brings us the food. Happy Boxing Day!

Go, Be Home For Telling It on the Mountain

Here's two; one for Matthew (this song always makes me think of soldiers... Not the version I would choose first, but I think he'll like it better than the one I would choose!)



And one for me...my favorite!



Oh, and while I was hunting, I found this. Great Big Honkin' Tissue Alert!

O Holy Night

This is for my mom; it's one of her favorites. Here's it's story.

Which version do you prefer? I like Celtic Woman, but the violinist's eyes might be too creepy for a Christmas hymn. Josh Groban's voice...why have I not heard him before? Have I been living under a rock? Don't answer that. Just let me know which you like better. This one?



Or this one?

I Wonder As I Wander

Claire reminded me of this folk song this morning. She has a good explanation of its origins at her site; click the link!



I always feel like I'm wandering, this time of year. So many deep truths to consider, and even act on, and I'm just a pretty stupid sinner here. But He leads me. I hope you get the chills from this rendition that I did. Maybe that would approximate what I'll be experiencing in a few minutes...as I head out to feed the critters.

Saturday Farm Report

Have you ever thought about what it takes to get your food to your table? I didn't, for a long time. Now I do, because most of the farm work I do here is taking care of animals that I will eat someday. Some of you are probably grossed out or even offended by that. John once took a turkey dinner to a function. A whole turkey dinner, most of which (the turkey, the potatoes, the beans) had been grown here at Pine Ridge Farm. One of the attendees, on learning that he had "known" this turkey, refused to eat it. -sigh-

But, in short, get over it. Someone somewhere knew and raised every animal you eat.

So my farm report today will include some measure of what it takes.

When I got up this morning, I remembered that yesterday we received between 6 and 8 inches of snow. It's hard to tell, because we aren't close to the measuring stations, and wind blows pretty hard in this area. Even if we do have an inch or two less than elsewhere, it may be piled up in such a way that it appears we have an inch or two more. I fixed a bucket of milk for Jr, and headed out to the barn. The snow is about a foot deep now. That makes the gates stick, and, actually, Jr's sticks so badly that I have to kick it open. I let him out for the milk, because he shares quarters with the goats and they snitch from him. While he ate, a goat got loose. That's because, now that the gate was open, it wouldn't shut properly, as snow had fallen in and blocked its path. So I dug and chipped and still couldn't get the gate to close properly.

John showed up with buckets of water. We don't have water at the barn, so it has to be carried. In the summer, of course, we run hoses. But those freeze. John's regretting all the weekends he planned to run water to the barn and got distracted instead! Before he filled the cows' trough, he had to dig out their gate. After he filled the trough, he came over and dug and chipped and finally fixed the goats' gate.

More water had to be carried for the goats, hay for the cows, and more shoveling and sweeping had to be done before we were finished in the barn.

Next came the chicken coop. No digging had to be done there, because the little princesses won't go outside when that white stuff is on the ground! It's a hoot to see them sitting by the open door, looking but not venturing out. One time I managed to spook three out into the yard. They flew a few feet, but would not move from where they had landed. I had to go and "rescue" each of them, as they would have let their feet freeze rather than walk the three feet to safe, warm ground.

Water had to be carried for the chickens. Water can be more trouble than just having to be carried. Our faucets freeze up in the winter, and either need to have hot water dumped over them before they work, or, my favorite method, they need to be "huffed" on. You know what I mean by that, right? I cup my hands around the faucet, open my mouth, and breathe out, long and slow. Three "huffs" usually opens the faucet. Not this week, though. It's supposed to get so cold before Christmas that I'll resort to hot water. But that seems like a waste to me, most of the time.

Really, thinking about it, our farm chores are minimal. Just very physical. Farmers with many more animals than we do do more work than we do. How many of you would be happy to get up early on a snowy Saturday to go to a cow barn and meet the vet? How happy would you be to help him for an hour, knowing that that would put your milking chores back that amount of time? So, when you're done helping the vet do his job, you still have yours to do? That's what happened today at the farm where we buy our milk.

One of our neighbors is permanently bent and hunched from years of milking cattle. Another neighbor used to raise hogs. He was spoiled; he had automatic feeders that enabled him to just flip a switch and feed his piggies. But those aren't foolproof, as they found out more than once. His daughter remembers coming home from midnight Christmas Eve service and feeding hogs in her dress clothes, because the feeder took a vacation.

Farmers don't do that. And you should thank the good Lord for them. Everything you put on your table comes from their hard work and energy. I really think everyone should have to spend some time working in two venues; a fast food restaurant and a farm. In the one, you learn to be grateful for menial labor. (I doubt that, if you worked at Culver's for a month, you'd ever cuss out the drive-in kid for a silly mistake.) In the second, you'd learn just what it really takes to feed a family.

And I bet you'd be grateful for it!

Html Can Make Me Crabby

I can't figure out why the video is not embedding, so I have to give you this link instead. Please read the article and watch the video.

Notice the mention of global warming. Notice the conflict between animal feeders and animal hunters. Common sense may be losing a battle here. Hopefully, it will win in the end.

Half And Half!

Thanks to Cheryl for this!

You Are: 50% Dog, 50% Cat

You are a nice blend of cat and dog. You're playful but not too needy. And you're friendly but careful. And while you have your moody moments, you're too happy to stay upset for long.

Are You More Cat or Dog?

This explains why, while I would love to have a house cat on my lap at night, I'd rather hike with a dog all day!

Homeschool Day

Homeschool Art Class.



Homeschool Recess



Homeschool Cafeteria.



Homeschool Study Hall.



Pretty soon the Homeschool Bus will be here....

The Great White Way

You have an early call. It's Saturday, but there are extra matinees, because of Christmas, you know. You dress in your tuxedo, make your cue, and perform beautifully. The rest of the cast also cooperates. It's a good show.




You spend some time with your adoring fans.



And, when it's done, you knock back a cold one. Beautiful.

Get Me From My Good Side

Well, we've given Half and Half or April or Mrs. No-Name time to acclimate, and so, finally, here are some pictures of the cow I went to pick up last week.



Of course, Ranchwife probably wants more than a head shot. So, Wendi, here you go.



And, since she's going to a ranch...the Quarter Horse shot!



Wendi, that's Bess behind her. Bess is about 38" at the shoulders, so that might give you an idea of size.

Animal photographer for hire!

Melody's Great Driving Adventure

I may have to give up on road trips. This trip to Wisconsin to get the cow was a doozy!

We left about a half hour late; that's not unusual for me. Not too far from home, I realized I'd left the IPASS at home, and was heading for the (lovely) Illinois Tollway. Back I went, adding another half hour. Having realized the night before that my halter was for a calf, a stop at Farm and Fleet was necessary...where we also picked up some shavings, (bedding for Mary's goat) some kitchen things, and some road food. Farm and Fleet...gotta love it!

Once on the road, I thought, "This is it! We're off!" Never think such things. No sooner had I done that, when the very nice lady on the radio said, "Long delays from Rte 39 to the Beloit toll plaza, due to an accident blocking two lanes." This is typical for Illinois roads, so I should have planned for it...but didn't! Not only was there an accident, but also the perennial road construction that IDOT likes to bless us with. An hour later, we crossed the Wisconsin state line; I could have done that in 20 minutes on side roads from our house if the Tollway weren't "faster."

I had looked at the map the night before, thinking that our destination was about 2-2 1/2 hours away. More like 3. So, having left at about 11, when all was said and done, and giving time for a burger at Culver's in Madison, we pulled up to the barn at about 3pm. We left about 5. It took that long to meet all the cows. Our "hostess" really wanted us to meet them, and see how she was "decorating" them with Christmas...antlers. You really had to be there.

If you had, the sights and smells would have made you sad. Let's just say that this was a true cow rescue, and leave it at that.

We loaded the cow, which meant I had to back the trailer to the barn. Wendi, I did it on the second try. It was a piece of cake! Getting out...not so much. She failed to tell me that I would need a 4-wheel drive to do that; I don't have one! Fortunately, a neighbor was willing to come and pull me out.

I was worried about leaving so late. The terrain where she lives is very hilly, and I had already been using 1st gear much more than I liked. With a full-grown cow in the trailer, it was even more fun. But we had to hurry; we needed to get to the vet for health papers, and she was leading us there at an alarming rate.

The vet was a peach. She was shaped like one, too. It made me worry when I said, "When is the baby due?" and she said, "Next week." Then she said, "I don't want to get into the trailer with that cow." No, sweetie, you won't have to. Let's let that baby incubate until it's ready, OK? After a brief check of the cow's eyes and general appearance, we had health papers and were headed down the road.

Now we had to deal with a 6 year-old boy who had been cooped up in a car seat all day and was getting hungry. We told him he could pick the restaurant for dinner; he picked Chili's. "Mom," Mary said, "these are tiny little towns. There's not gonna be a Chili's." "No, but Madison is an hour away; we'll find one there." But, each of those little towns was a source of disappointment for Sean. "No Chili's here, Grandma Melody. When will we find one?" "Soon, Sweetie." Finally, we did, and angels sang.

We finally got home just after 10pm. I had already decided that the trailer wasn't getting backed in that night. But April, or Half and Half, whatever her name is, needed to be unloaded. That's when we learned that she really wasn't halter trained. I mean, we got one on her, but she planted those feet and about had to be dragged to the pasture. Ever danced with a Jersey in the pale moonlight? (I didn't know I always wanted to say that!) But that's what happened. We pulled and poked and danced her across the farm, in the light of a full moon.

It was quite the day, and made me almost want to give up road trips. Almost. But she has to get to Ranchwife somehow!

On the road again...

Aftermath

Remember this post? Here's what it looked like the next day;



Notice the shovel. Notice the ruts; at the back of each are 1x6's that were used for traction. On the backside of that tree was another shovel. I know it was my fault this happened, but why can't I get the guys to put away the tools? This is not, of course , just this time. No, it's every time a job gets done around here. It's bad enough that I have to put the stuff away, but then there's the griping and complaining that I didn't put them away in the right places. -sigh-

But--look at this;



Yep, I backed the trailer straight up that long driveway, parking it in front of the garage without any impact. Yes, it took me a couple of tries, but I did it.

I'm sure you're rooting for me to break into a chorus of "I Am Woman," but that was nothing. Tune in tomorrow and read what else I did!

Buyer's Remorse

I don't know what I was thinking. I bought a horse yesterday. For my daughter.

Lord, have mercy.

Oops.

Despite Polly's encouraging words, there is now a trailer parked perpendicular to the driveway. The truck "pulling" it is stuck in the snow. John has to pick us up on his way to elder for Advent services, because, otherwise, we can't get out! We'll fix that after church.

Yep. I did the trailer part OK. I should have been less stubborn and asked Ethan to come out and direct, because, as I tried to back it into the parking slot, I rode right up on the snow next to the driveway. It's SO stuck.

My face is SO red.

Prepping

I have an adventure coming tomorrow.

Through circumstance, I learned about a milking cow that was being sent to the butcher this week. Knowing that I had a few friends who might like her, I posted it to my online network. Lo and behold, within 5 minutes, Ranchwife had staked her claim.

Problem. The cow is in Wisconsin, and Ranchwife is in Wyoming. The weather is dicey, and travel back and forth is chancy.

Enter me. Tomorrow I will head to Wisconsin, where I will become a foster mom for a bred Jersey cow. She'll stay here until the weather is a little better. We're even OK with cold and wind, just not the sloppy ice we've been hit with lately. Then I'll load her up again, and take her to Chocolot's farm in Iowa, where I'll meet up with Ranchwife and make the swap. We may be swapping a horse for Mary for this cow, if all goes well...Stay tuned.

Have I mentioned I've never hauled a trailer by myself?

I'm all about the adventure!

Let It Snow!

I'm inside today, rotting my brain with bad Reese Witherspoon movies. Now, give me a break. The roads were icy last night, then it rained, and now it's snowing. It's beautiful through the picture window; not so much through a windshield, I'm betting. I'm staying put!

Snowfall reminds me of hot chocolate, and, yes, accidents. Accidents remind me of policemen. Policemen reminds me of the time Grandma came home in a police car...

On our trip to Lithuania, we took a tour organized by the Balzekas museum. On this tour were probably 20 people. Three of us were under 30, three or four couples were between 40 and 60, and the rest were over 60. After touring Vilnius one morning, we were given the afternoon for "free time." We wandered around, shopping and sightseeing, as if we knew what we were doing. We were supposed to meet up for dinner at our hotel.

The three of us "young people" had seen a shop, further up the street, that we wanted to visit. Grandma and two or three other "over 60's" didn't want to take that walk. We agreed to meet up about halfway back to the hotel, at a shop that we all recognized, in about an hour.

Well, the hour passed. I bought some mammoth tusk, and was standing, waiting for Grandma...and waiting...and waiting... We waited about an hour, maybe a little longer. We were getting pretty worried when a police car came zipping up the street. It was about past us when, instead, the driver slammed on the brakes.

Seems that the "over 60's" had NOT GOTTEN LOST, but, rather, wandered a bit. There was much discussion about how to find us, with Grandma, of course, being correct. Really, she was, but no one was listening. One of the gentlemen, having been a police sergeant before he retired, flagged down a police car. (Fortunately, these "over 60's" were all Lithuanian speakers) They agreed to bring them to us, and off they went.

After driving for a bit and realizing that the former police sergeant spoke an almost-undecipherable Lithuanian, the officers began listening to Grandma. She described to the the shop where we were supposed to meet, and off, again they went. Finally they found us, and all was well again. There was much, "Take a few litas for your troubles," on the part of the lost ones, and much, "Oh, no, no, no, we couldn't," on the part of the policemen. Finally, good-byes were said, and we went off to dinner.

But we always like telling the story about the day the police brought Grandma home!

Rupintojelis

This is Rupintojelis. His name is pronounced roo-pinto-YAY-lis. It's Lithuanian. (No, he is not crooked. The photographer is!)




When Grandma decided, in 1993, at 80, to go to Lithuania, I decided to go, too. I thought 80 was a bit...mature to be heading to a just-freed-Iron-Curtain country without a companion. We spent 3 weeks touring the land her parents came from. It was a wonderful trip, and we came back with many stories. I'll try to share some of them this week.

But this guy came back with us, too. Notice his face. Yes, he looks like Jesus. Because He is.




Lithuanians have been carving an image of a worrying man into trees, posts, etc, for a thousand years or more. It probably started as a pagan symbol, which may date to the Sumerians. It had many interpretations; some saw it as a god, worrying about the state of the earth and its inhabitants. The Lithuanians were the last Europeans to be Christianized, which happened in the late 14th century. As the Church took root in the country, it took on pagan symbols for itself. Rupintojelis' face morphed into that of Jesus, and He became the One who would worry over His people.

When we traveled through Lithuania, we saw countless little souvenir sellers, with their wares spread on tables, floors, streets, and, even, in the case of on street seller of amber necklaces, hung all over their bodies. Many of them carried carvings and depictions of Rupintojelis. We could have bought one daily and had 21 different styles, although most follow this form; a worrying Christ, seated under an awning of some sort.

This simple souvenir took on new meaning for me last week. After I posted this, I was cleaning up in Grandma's room, and found Rupintojelis, carefully wrapped, on a shelf. I took him down and hung him, realizing that this was a great visual reminder for me to LET HIM worry about me and just get on with doing what he needs me to do today.

Which reminds me. I'd best get to it!

Snow on the Farm Today!

Plenty of it. It's really pretty. See?



This weekend is our church's Boar's Head Festival. It always snows for this, and our director and Head Honcho sweat bullets about it all Friday and Saturday night. It makes travel difficult, but it sure looks great when you walk in past the life-sized Nativity, through the torches held by the Wassailers, and there's snow.

We celebrated a birthday at Pine Ridge Farm this week! Kris had a birthday on Thursday, and Sean was nice enough to tell us how old she is. Can you tell?



I told her she was being Hippie Kris that day.

My Thrift Store Deal

So yesterday I took that pile over to Bethesda Thrift. As I was unloading, another couple was there. The other lady and I noticed a leather coat with a fur collar on the pile of things that had just come in. Now, the thrift store is in The Big City of Crystal Lake, along with Sears, and that produce market I've talked about. While I was driving there, I was musing that I needed to replace my more-than-ten-year-old dress coat, and I'd like to get one with some fur on it, but that would be 1) politically incorrect and 2) expensive.

Never mind the PC when you're at the thrift store, right? As it turned out, the coat was too small for me, although it was JUST too small and it was a size 8, so I'm feeling pretty good again about the whole weight loss thing. I was just having the thought that it might fit Mary when the man who was taking in our collection said, "I have another coat with a fur collar..."

Camel wool and coyote. It fits perfectly although, Wendy, Mary is APPALLED that I would wear coyote. ("They're just so...ewww...")

I went to the front of the store to pay for my find. AT the register, they said, "Coats are buy-one-get-one-free today. You have to take two." Having been distracted by negotiations for the coat, and the fact that Sean was, by now, sitting in on Jay's piano lesson, me running behind at the thrift store and all, I temporarily forgot the leather one. I grabbed another, furry, one, that I decided I would just take to our church coat drive.

Until I was in the car, explaining my cool deal to Mary. THEN I remembered the other coat. I was bold enough to turn around and ask if they would swap my "extra" coat for the leather-and-as-I-found-out-MINK coat for Mary. They would!

They'll need some reworking (I'm taking off the bottom row of fur and adding buttons; it's a wrap-around right now) and alterations (EC? When are you coming?) but my total bill...$16.16.

Woot!

No Paper?!

The printer is telling me there's no paper.

No Paper?! Whaddya talking about? There's PLENTY of paper. Look, right here. To the right of you. Or the left, I guess. It's on MY right. A whole wad of paper. Reams and reams of paper. A whole cart FULL of paper. All you hafta do is grab a bunch, move the thingy that holds the printed copies, open the cassette, and put the paper in. Close the cassette, move the thingy back, and press, "OK."

How hard was THAT? No paper.

Stupid machine.

Follow Me On This One

Seriously. Let me finish before you decide.

Over the years, I have developed this view of history. See, I always had difficulty with other gods. Why were they there? I believe in one God, and the idea of others always confused me. A class in ancient history introduced me to Mesopotamian/Sumerian theology, in a rough sort of way. I saw in it some parallels to orthodox Biblical theology and I thought, "Why?"

Well, if you look at the Bible as history instead of theology, just for a minute, it might make sense. Imagine that the world really DID begin with one family. Imagine that family did something heinous, and the One in control of their lives changed those lives drastically. What was once a walk in the park--literally--became a daily struggle for survival. The family not only struggled with the elements, but with each other. Eventually, branches of that family drifted apart, emotionally and even physically. Spreading out through the countryside, and struggling for life, their view of God coloring their view of the world, their legends and remembrances changed. What was once one unified theology became scattered, corrupted and confused.

One group kept as close as possible to the original theology. Their story, recorded in the Bible, is where I look for hope and life. Others look elsewhere.

This is all leading up to an article I found in an OLD magazine in the doctor's office the last time I took Grandma there. Appearing in body+soulmagazine, and titled, "The Zen of Raking," it read

For all the bonuses autumn brings, the season also ushers in one seemingly interminable chore: raking. But where many see drudgery, Buddhism sees an opportunity for cultivating calm. "When we apply a 'beginner's mind' to repetitive chores, we learn to avoid getting caught in distraction or constantly seeking new stimulation," says Sharon Salzberg, cofounder of the Insight Meditation Society in Massachusetts. Also known as "meditation in action," the Zen approach helps you hone your attention on the present moment while you get a chore done--in this case, rounding up fallen leaves. As you make your piles, focus only on the action of raking; when you feel your mind wandering, says Salzberg, concentrate on your breath or the feel of the rake to recenter yourself.

OK, now, stay in the moment. Don't be distracted, stay in the moment. That reminds me of another quote.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your bady, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
Matthew 6:25-27

Now, it goes on longer, in the same vein. And it's something I have to think through more deeply, about how life is more important than food, and the body more important than clothes. But it's saying to me, "Yes, in life there is struggle. And you have to concentrate on some things in order for them to be done. But worry? Leave that for those who don't have Me. Let Me worry about you." For me, there is such peace in that thought.

I Have a Quiet House

Ethan has gone to class. Jay and Kris took Mary and Sean skiing. I am alone until suppertime or so. I have brewed a pot of coffee, and am all set to sit down and read, read, read. Unfortunately, my utility room looks like this;



And this;



-sigh- I guess I'll be reading later. Much later.

An hour later, the utility room looks better;



There is still MUCH to be done, but I've made a pile




of things that Bethesda Thrift Store will be glad to take off my hands. Now it's time for lunch.




Yes, that is beet soup. Grandma would be disappointed, because there were no greens to add. But it's good! And that sour cream is NOT sour cream. That, thanks to Glenda, is Greek yogurt. I had seen it in the stores for years, but had never tasted it, until she waxed rhapsodical about it recently. Now I will probably not buy much sour cream for a long time. This is GOOD stuff!

Under The Weather

Yep, that would be me today. In more ways than one.

Last night was our first real snowfall of the season. We expect some more tonight. Of course, the mower was left out in the snow. The lawn furniture was left uncovered. And who worries about such things, I ask you? The mama, that's who. While I did get help from one kid with respect to the mower, and from another with respect to some shoveling that needed to be done, no one else around here wastes a minute of brain time in worrying about such things. Except for me.

It's an awesome task. Made even more awesome by the tasks of hauling feed and water for the animals. Because who gets up before God to do such things? The mama, that's who. I mean, I could wake the chilluns and get them out there. But, honestly, that's more work than just doing it. And if you're thinking, "Those kids aren't learning when you do things like that," well, I'll invite you to stop by and wake them up any day you've got the guts. Have at it.

So the weather got to me today. And the work got to me today. Which could be why my tummy is getting to me now. Or not. But, whatever the reason, I'm under the weather.

In more ways than one.