Complete

Okay, I think my little farm is complete. This week end we purchased these two very well socialized meat rabbit does. The brown one is Rhiannon's and her name is Hazel and the white one we are keeping 'in trust' for Megan, our friend in Calgary. Her name is Cypress. They are both extremely tame and very friendly and Rhiannon is absolutely in love with them. They are sisters and about half grown and they are about 3/4 Flemish Giant. Sometime this summer we will pick up a buck and maybe another doe or two and that will complete our breeding stock.

I grew up raising and eating rabbits and I love the meat. Some of our best Sunday dinners were rabbits stewed in mushroom sauce. It really does taste like chicken but let me tell you - rabbits are WAY easier to raise - the mothers do it all. And their poop can be used on the garden without composting.

This is my plan to phase out meat chickens. I will raise only a few to have for the really big roasters but most of our white meat will come from these.

So, now I have everything I want - sheep, chickens and rabbits. Maybe, someday way down the road, I would like to have an Angora Goat but that would be a long ways off and only a maybe wish. For right now, I feel totally complete in my farm.

Nettling

I went to fetch my good friend, Bozenka, last Saturday for a day of 'nettling'. She showed up like her grandmother, before her, with magic. She had created a Nettle Fairy and brought one for Rhiannon to decorate, which she started to do right away.

While Bozenka and I picked nettles, it was Rhiannon's job to take pictures and to escort the Nettle Fairy around and photograph her in different settings. Rhiannon took some great pictures. Here are only a few:








Here she is in our nettle patch.











And here she is with Rhiannon's blueberry bush.













And then she had a little swing.














While we laboured away in this nettle patch that has grown over some old rotting wood cuttings.

It didn't take us long to pick the nettles - we left some tall ones to teach the young ones how to grow tall again. Then we positioned ourselves in the shade on the East side of the house, outside the kitchen window and plucked the leaves from the stems. And we talked. We talked about ourselves, our children, our families, community and the world. Deep, heartfelt talking as we worked separating leaf from stem. As we have lost our sense of community and helping each other, we have not only lost the sense of sharing each other's physical burdens but also our emotional ones, which is perhaps the most important thing that comes from working together like this - sharing, listening.

Then we brought all those leaves inside and left the stems to dry in the sun and later be chopped up and used for nettle infusion. We washed the leaves twice and chopped them up like this to be put into freezer bags for the winter. Nettle can be used in any recipe that calls for spinach - not to mention nettle and pumpkin soup... And we marvelled at the bounty of nettle. Can you imagine how much spinach you would have to grow to be equivalent to one nettle plant?


Sometime in there we were famished so we made this nettle omlette with green onions and garlic and fresh oregano. Delicious.

And now I have some nettle and some fresh sheep cheese to make cannelloni with and a full heart.

Spring Soup

Spring soup is a favourite around here. Every year it is a bit different, depending on what is growing. I pull some frozen chicken stock out of the freezer the night before. Then mid morning, I put on 1/2 a cup of red lentils and 1/2 a cup of pot barley on to cook for an hour or so. If I'm not in the mood for these, then I might throw in some left over rice or skip this part for a lighter soup. Then, in my medium sized sauce pan, I melt a tablespoon of butter and whisk into it a tablespoon of flour. You can add more butter and more flour for a thicker soup. I don't like them that thick so I just use a bit. I add the thawed stock (if I don't have stock, I just use water) and add the cooked barley and lentils. Then I go outside and pick every edible green thing - except mint. So it has dandelion greens, pig weed, lamb's quarters, garlic tops, leek tops, green onions, green onion flowers (delicious!), oregano, lovage, stinging nettle and the secret ingredient which makes any spring soup delicious: rhubarb. Yes, rhubarb. Usually 3 stalks in my medium saucepan - its the main ingredient. I just chop it up into 1/2 inch pieces with scissors. You have got to try it! Now, I usually would have chard and spinach to add to this mix but mine is not up yet this year so I have made do with lots of dandelion greens and lambs quarter. I made this for supper last night along with baking soda biscuits with cheese and dill and pumpkin scones for dessert with apple butter and some elderberry saft for refreshment. Ahhh, spring!

You don't have to wait for me

To post about Rhiannon. She has been very busy writing her own blog with her own little brand of humour... She is dying for an audience and some comments: http://rhiannonsworld2000.blogspot.com. (and in my own defence, she has assigned herself all those chores... I really don't mind, though! Its great to have the help)

Triple Threat

Well, with a skein of white wool in my stash, lamb in my freezer and milk in my fridge, I'd have to say that I agree - Icelandic sheep are a triple threat.

Yes, you caught it, I have sheep milk in my fridge. So far I have made cream cheese (was more like ricotta), kefir (which I screwed up by looking at the centigrade side of my thermometer instead of the farenheit side... oh well, it is still good in smoothies) and yogurt. As well, Dean has used it in his coffee, Drew has had it on his cereal and my dad drank it by the glassfull.

Its a little precious to drink it that way. I get about a litre a day. Brida's huge udder contributes 3+ cups and Draga contributes 1 cup. Freya, whose lamb is a month old today, goes up onto the stanchion tonight for the first time. My next project is to make feta cheese. I'll have enough milk after tonight's milking.

Other than a little milk in his coffee when he was out of cream, Dean (and Rhiannon) refuse to partake. They say they are grossed out. Dean says it turns his stomach... So, as Drew and I sat down to a bowl of yogurt and raspberries yesterday, I said, "well, if we really did have to live off of our land, you and I would thrive and they would all starve!" Drew says it the best tasting milk he has ever had!

So, I don't go too far from home these days and my mornings start on the stanchion. It is beautiful in the morning. The apple trees are all in blossom, the birds are singing. In the evening, everything has to stop for a half hour again. There is something to these pastoral rhythms. I sing to the sheep (suppsed to help them relax and give more milk) and I think a little but mostly I just am in that moment with the sky, the flowers, the blossoms, the sounds of my farm and I'm loving it.

Ransome Note?

copied directly from a note slipped under my door...

Foods for Supper

Spaghetti Italian

Pasta

Tortellini

Ravioli
Pizza
Pesto Pasta
Nachos Mexican
Tacos
Samosas Indian
Pita Bread and Humus
Pasta Cassarole
Perogies Russian

for Mom

Once all of these are provided, you will get a stamp page and breakfast in Bed and knowledge about food.

Apparantly the crossed out ones are meals I have recently provided...

And then there were 5

We are one less cat (pic of Erin's cat, Saetia, courtesy of Andrew) and one less person around here. Erin has been home since last November and just moved out last night into a cute little apartment with a friend. It has been such a pleasure to enjoy this next phase in our relationship. I must say, I think she is an amazing person and I feel so blessed to have her as a daughter.

What can I say? I knew when she came back that it wouldn't be for very long. I know how fleeting this is when your children live under your roof - over way too fast - so I was happy to take every minute I could squeeze with all 4 of my children in one place. I recognize it for the golden moment that it is.

It just feels a little quieter and little emptier around here.... At least she is still in Vernon. I have a feeling I will be seeing her when her laundry bag is full... or she's out of cat litter or canned tomatoes....

the inevitable post

As others have pointed out, things can start backing up when you haven't posted in awhile. My time on the computer has been very limited - lots of things going on. And, I broke Rhiannon's camera so I have no pictures to show you. I poured water on it accidentally while carrying water in to Freya after Bjorn's birth. (yes, his name as been changed to Bjorn by Kaetlyn. Bjorn means Bear).

So, once lambs were all born, and sheep sorted, I was free to go and see the wee bean, otherwise known as Owen. I drove to Bethany and Ben's (do Ben's family call it Ben and Bethany's?) to fetch my mother to my place to celebrate Kaetlyn's 18th birthday. I was making very good time on my way to Horsefly - I would have been there at 5:30 - until I got to 70 Mile House and there was a wild fire burning and I got turned back. They were saying that we had to go all the way back to Kamloops and take Hwy 24. Luckily a nice Indian gas station owner in Clinton showed me a map of the logging roads and I made a 2 hour detour on rutted roads that took me out to Hwy 97 minutes from the Horsefly turn off (which is Likely Rd, not Horesfly, I might add, if anyone is listening). I was barely in time to put the T-Bone steaks I had brought with me into the oven to go along with the potatoes au gratin they had made. One more minute and they would have eaten without me.

Owen, as you all know by now is undeniably cute and very sweet. I got to hold him, of course, and I madly started crocheting a light blue baby hat out of a bernat soy yarn that I had purchased some months before just in case. After eating we played consequences and went to bed before too long. I went with them to church and got to see baby Owen be blessed. It was beautiful. And got to be embarrassed as Dave Shults told everyone about my former scripture chasing champion days. And I finished the hat just before we left.

Then I brought my mother to my house. We passed right through the fire area - little fires still burning by the side of the road.

She went right to work overhauling my kitchen. I now have paper down in all my drawers which are spotless. Funny because my brother Layne seems to do the same thing when he visits - he pulls out everything on the counters and cleans thoroughly. I once heard someone tell my kids that my family judged me by the cleanliness of my house and so they needed to help me clean. I didn't correct her but it amused me. I don't think they do judge me but if they do, it doesn't bother me. No, I clean because if I don't, they will be busy cleaning when they get here!

It was very nice having my mom here. Rhiannon says the house feels lonely without her and grandpa here. And it was nice for me to be mothered by my mother.

We celebrated Kaetlyn's 18th birthday on Thursday evening because my dad came up to get his wife on Thursday and they were planning on returning on Friday. I had purchased all the materials for him to make me a rabbit hutch which he started on immediately with only a few hitches while we cleaned and cooked for Kaetlyn's dinner. We had a few close friends for dinner and it was very nice. Kaetlyn was feted very well!

Really her birthday was Sunday but that now got to be all about me as it was also Mother's Day. My family spoiled me with my favourite things - an omlette full of green things growing, time with them and then dinner at Ellison by campfire. They know what I like!

And well, that is alot for one post. Good on you if you made it this far!

Miracles

The Fiddler on the Roof song is going through my head this morning... "wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles"... My lambing adventure if over for this year and it ended with a miracle. It started of course, with Brida and her twins, one of which we lost. Then Draga had her lamb in the middle of the night. She was textbook in her labour symptoms - exactly as they describe it. However, her wee one (also a girl) was born rear feet first and her slower-first-time labour wasn't fast enough and it was born dead. Another black girl but she weighed only 4 lbs.

Freya was anything but textbook. She showed signs that she would deliver within hours - mucous plug and colostrum coming out of her teats last Sunday night. Kaetlyn and I took turns checking on her every half hour. Nothing. Monday I had to go to Salmon Arm with Rhiannon for her music festival. I have never spent such an anxious day and tried my best not to imagine coming home to a dead sheep with a lamb stuck in her.... but I have a very active imagination and I can tell you that I was never so glad to see a dirty white face as I was that night.

So our vigil continued. Kaetlyn was indispensable. She would take the first night watch - usually until 4am when I would get up. Night after night after night. Nothing. On Wednesday, more gel like substance came out. This time, I sent Rhiannon with some others from our violin group as I just wasn't up for the worry. But still nothing.

Until yesterday, Friday, April 24. I had this feeling I wasn't going to make my ballet class... Sure enough when I went to check on the sheep before it was time to leave for dance class, I discovered Freya in the throws of labour (all that night time checking and she has it in the middle of the day!). She walked all over the pasture and would be overcome, lay down and push, get up walk around, lay down and push. Kaetlyn and I followed her around like nervous midwives, offering apples and grain. Finally she came out of the sun, into the shade of the trees and let us get close enough to her rear end to have a good look. I could find one white hoof in the birth canal. I could feel the other hoof back a bit which meant that the elbow was bent and stuck on the pelvic girdle. I fished around for 30 minutes but couldn't loosen it. This is where things start to get miraculous.

My friend, Shoshanna, who spins my wool just happened to be making a rare visit to our farm that day to see our spring babies. She has exceptionally small hands. She got in there and worked the other food out. By now it had been at least an hour of pushing (supposed to take only 30 minutes). Together we pulled on these two legs and stretched her vuvla around the emerging head which was huge. Poor Freya. She pushed and groaned for all she was worth. We could see a little purple tongue hanging out of his mouth and I thought the lamb was likely dead. But then we saw the little nose blowing bubbles and knew he was alive. We eventually got his head out which was so difficult because his little horns were already 3/4 of an inch high. Unbelievable! The rest of him just slid out. Beautiful white boy who weighs 8 lbs. 8 lbs! They both just layed there for the longest time, her licking him off without standing up. We all helped dry him off with towells. We had accumulated quite an audience by this time - Rhiannon, Ursula, our neighbours.

Thank God that Shoshana was there or I am sure I would have had to bury Freya with her lamb stuck inside her. And thank God he is alive and thriving. For all her night time vigils that have allowed me to at least get enough sleep to function, Kaetlyn has named him Avaldi which means "very powerful, old and rare man's name". There is an accent over the A. It is an Icelandic name of course. This Icelandic name, means of course that he is not destined for the freezer. Her is registerable, for one and besides that, I just couldn't eat him after that birth.


Isn't he gorgeous?!

And that is the end of my lamb adventures for this year. In the end, I had 4 lambs - 2 girls and two boys. Both the girls were black (same colour as the dad) and both are dead. The two boys are the same colour as their mothers and both are doing well. And most importantly, all my moms are doing well.

Sweet relief. I don't think I have ever slept as well as I slept last night!

The Other Side of Farm Life

I usually avoid posting sad news. Strange. I can handle posting things I am angry about but not so much the sad. Truthfully it has been pathological in me since I was a kid. When I was sick, I hated my mom to tell people I was. I remember once hiding behind the curtains when her visiting teachers came and making her promise NOT to tell! And one time, I didn't tell her I had an ear ache because I didn't want her to tell anyone. I suffered in silence until my ear drum eventually burst... I was thinking about that aspect of myself when I was thinking about this post I think I have to write. A sad one. I hate people to feel sorry for me. I don't know why - I think it is a vulnerability issue - although I have no problem being vulnerable in other ways.... like blathering on like this about my own inner process. I didn't want to write about this sad side of farm life.

Anyways, we have sad news. Our wee black lamb died yesterday afternoon. After originally perking up after her traumatic birth, she slowly got weaker and weaker. I walled Brida and the two lambs into the sheep shelter alone that night to make sure they could get to each other. In the morning when I checked on her, she was very weak - couldn't stand. I brought her in and warmed her up, milked Brida and tried to get her to eat but she wouldn't take more than a tiny bit. When she warmed up, she started panting and got weaker and weaker. Finally she had a big bloody poop that was more blood than poo and died while Kaetlyn was holding her. We were all very sad.

Andrew dug a grave and Dean and I buried her with some snow drops and violets, wrapped in an old t-shirt. I planted catnip and violets on top of her wee grave. Death. Its the other side of farm life.

I called the vet and described what had happened. He said that for her to die so quickly that it was not infectious but something that happened during birth. Which is good as it means that the other lamb is not at risk. So far he continues to thrive, glued to his mama's side and bounding around their pen, greedily nursing.

And so the milking begins. Brida's udder is HUGE!! And her teats are huge, too. I see what the shearer saw in her when he recommended her for a milk sheep. I guess it was just too far along in the weaning process by the time I got her in the summer - small bag and centimeter long teats. Already I have a pint of colostrom in the freezer in case some other baby needs it. And it is super easy to milk her because she has so much and her teats are so big.

So we are grateful for our brown boy now named Basil - which could be food or a real name. I think he would make someone a great ram - especially with Renauld's good genes. And I think brown is my favourite colour of icelandic sheep and he is a rich dark mild chocolate brown. And we are missing our sweet black girl who didn't live long enough to get named. At least in her last hours of life, we held her and loved her and she died feeling our love around her.

Images of Easter at Our House

Kids playing several silly games of Uno while the turkey cooked, and they ate their chocolate. It involved Tyler (with the beard) getting severely ribbed after bragging that he always wins... He discovered the power of 4. (the power of 4 siblings against one, that is). Tyler is Erin's boyfriend for those of you who are wondering. We like him. He's a very good sport!

After dinner we played a game of Cranium - the youngsters against the oldsters. (Dean, me and his parents were the oldsters). They creamed us, I have to say...









And isn't this perfect timing? Well, not totally... I had arranged to get my meat chicks and my laying chicks at the same time this year so I could be done by the beginning of summer holidays. The layers didn't arrive (2 weeks in a row!) but I still had to pick up these little roasters. Less than ideal because these little monsters will have a really big head start on the chicks arriving next week. They grow faster anyways and I might have to get two brooders going... But I have to admit, having chicks for Easter is pretty fun.



And then, right on cue... Brida went into labour last night. I awoke early this morning to see a little black head protruding from her rear. I was so scared. I thought it was dead. Kaetlyn had been checking on her every two hours all night and when she last checked at 5am, she didn't see anything. I woke up at 6:30. The head is supposed to present with two little hooves. I had to stick my arm in up to my elbow and find those two little hooves and help her out. I thought she was dead but I put my hand on her chest once she was out and there was a little heart beating away. A 10 lb black baby girl. Doing fine now. And before I could turn around there was another head at the opening and again with no hooves. I pulled out one hoof and he came sliding out a little 8 lb brown boy with huge horn buds.

Zeus behaved amazingly. All his natural insticts kicked in. He licked and licked and licked these babies right along with their mama. He chased the other sheep away. He cleaned up Brida. The brown one follows him around like he is his other mama.

Isn't this the perfect shot? There they are. Twins. Their wool already so lustrous and curly. Right now Brida is eating some well deserved hay and grain, the lambs are sleeping and Zeus is laying nearby. I'm going to go and have a bath...

My Sister is an Amazing Photographer

My sister Laura is an amazing photographer. Her blog is always full of great pictures. Lately she is into doing portraits and she has some really great ones. Her latest subjects are our parents. I stole some of my favourites but for the full effect go here.


When I see this one, I can see how some people think I look like my mother.











I think these series of pictures not only are great photos, they capture more than just my parents. I think they capture my sister's relationship with them as well and her goofy, quirky way of being with them. There is no artifice in their poses. There is genuine affection. Not just for each other but for her as well.

Now I've got to pick one to get as an 8x10 for my wall... so hard to choose!
























And this is the perfect one to finish with. This is so typically dad that I can hear, without any effort, the sounds he is making, as well!

Well...

May 12 is coming. Another provincial election. You know I've got to say something.

First of all, I've got to say that I have never got the appeal of Gordon Campbell. Maybe because I was working in the human resources field when he was first elected and saw first hand what happened when he cut funding to social programs. I saw how it effected some of the most vulnerable in our society. Maybe that is why; but to me he has always seemed a slick, smarmy politician in bed with big business. Someone who believes we have to choose between the environment and the economy. (Show me where there is an economy without an environment?!)

I was flabbergasted when he was re-elected. I mean, I thought surely that people were on to him, I mean it was so obvious. Apparently not. Sometimes I feel like I am from another planet... BC politics have long frustrated me as we swing from one extreme to the other.

I am really concerned about what Campbell is doing. How he is dismantling our public companies like BC Hydro and BC Gas. In fact, look at what has happened to BC Gas. Our public natural gas company is now owned by Texas based Kinder Morgan. Originally it was part of BC Hydro. Now owned by Americans. BC Hydro is now well on its way. Take a look at this video. Maybe you think our utilities should be privately owned. I don't know, I think there is a lot of value in having publicly owned and controlled utilities where profit at all costs is not the driving force. Where the goal is to provide British Columbians with affordable power while taking into consideration the environment.

When I think about these things too deeply, I get all panicky inside. It might have something to do with the fact that I live in the middle of the conservative heartland of BC (too close to Alberta, I tell you!). I remember what this province was like when I was a child - when half of the highways were gravel roads. And I see how it is now - where it is dangerous to eat fish caught in Okanagan lake. Where wilderness is developed to provide massive mansions for people living in Japan, Germany and Alberta who don't even live in them but stay at the most a few weeks of the year and don't even rent them out when they aren't there. And I think of my children and even the rest of my life and I wonder when it will end - this fanatical expansion for the sake of expansion, greed, corporate lust and the apathy of people who don't bother or are too overwhelmed to get informed or don't want to get involved - who don't even bother to vote.

Anyways, this scares me. What can happen to our rivers, scares me. What kind of a world do we want to live in? This isn't going to happen in someone else's back yard. This is our backyard. This is such an important election. Gordon Campbell has been quietly and not so quietly undoing or undermining public institutions for the sake of foreign investors. Its coming to a head. What kind of BC do you want to live in? Get informed. Vote.

I'm tired. Is this post coherent? I'm going to bed...

Pretty in Pink

Kaetlyn's latest hair colour...

Homesteading

So, Paprika (affectionately known as Pappy) met his end on Tuesday morning. He is off to the butcher now and will be going home to my dad's freezer next Monday. Although I am comfortable with my omnivorous eating habits, I don't take lightly these animals giving up their lives for us to eat. Paprika and Renauld were fighting more and more and the last thing I wanted was for one of them to get injured or for them to injure our soon-to-come lambs. I never intended to keep Pappy. A flock with only 3 ewes just doesn't need 2 rams. He was just too small to butcher in the fall when the rest went. So now he is gone. And for a few weeks until Brida has her babies, we are down to 4 sheep.

Out of respect for him, I am using as much of him as possible. We fed his heart, testicles, liver and kidneys to the dogs, the rest will go to my parents. Only his head, lungs and guts were disposed of. So that leaves his skin.

One of the slaughtering guys from the fall had said that it is easy to cure your own skin. He gave me brief instructions. I got part way with Oregano and Tarragon and then put the skins in the freezer where they remain. I don't really have room for another skin in my freezer so I have been learning how to do this on Paprika. Let me tell you, 'easy' is not a word I would use to decribe this process....

First I laid it out on the picnic table outside and cut and picked out burs. He had a lot of burs in his wool! And he had never been shorn so his wool is rather long, too. Here is what it looked like after I finished 'de-burring' it.

Then I put the skin in the washing machine and ran it through a cycle.








Then I stretched it out on a piece of teak plywood my old neighbours gave me for this purpose. I used my staple gun to attach it. See all that stuff? I am supposed to scrape all that off... The kids were in bed and I turned on CBC and started working. After 2 hours and little improvement, I started to wonder what I was thinking... This is what it looked like after 2 hours. And lambskin/sheepskin is very thin - one of the thinnest hides, actually. I kept making holes in it. My dreams of having a beautiful lambskin to give my dad when he got here, started to slip away.... I started to think about putting the whole skin in the compost... I went and looked up stuff on the internet - it seems there are many ways to cure a hide. In the end, I worked on it for another hour and then put a layer of salt over it and went to bed.

The next afternoon after people complaining about the smell (not to mention the sight) in my kitchen, (it smells like you are in a store full of leather shoes), I took it outside and leaned it against a tree. Next I poured 3 buckets of salt water over it and used a plastic scrub brush to clean it. Its looking a lot better, don't you think?

Last night I brought it in and worked on the scraping part - so many little bits of fat stuck to it but they are getting easier to take off as it gets drier and I haven't made any new holes... Again I covered it in a lyer of salt. I'm about to take it outside and give it another salt water rinse and scrub. In some places it is looking like the most gorgeous, fine leather.... Although I am only going for rawhide, I think. And once I have this side done, then I have to finish cleaning the wool on the other side. I am debating on whether I should cut it all down to 2 inches long. I'll have to wait and see how it looks...

Girls Weekend

editted to add that you can now see great pictures on Laura's blog here.

Well, I forgot my camera and no one else has posted pictures yet so I can't steal some for you. Girls Weekend happened. We left here right on time, Erin, Rhiannon and I, at 12:15. We drove without too much incident and my Dad's directions turned out to be pretty good so we pulled into my parents place just around 6. Everyone else started to arrive at pretty much the same time. Pretty soon the place was packed full of girls and babies and the fun began.

The food was fantastic - we took turns making meals, so each one was a feast. We took our largest chicken (9.9 lbs), Erin made a chocolate mousse torte from the Rebar Cookbook and Amy made yam fries and we had a yummy salad with "Little Creek" dressing from the Okanagan.

Friday afternoon we started with the crafting for those who were interested. We worked on Bethany's baby quilt and a rag quilt for Adriel (I'm waiting for that picture, Sarah!) and finishing the binding on Katie's "I Spy" quilt for Elizabeth. So there was lots of cutting and sewing. Thank goodness my aunt Mina was there or I am sure we would not have been able to finish.

Saturday morning was Rhiannon's favourite time. We went to the bird sanctuary in Ladner. We got to see some sandhill cranes which was pretty amazing and a different kind of heron and lots of different kinds of ducks and some hissing canada geese. Her favourite part, though was playing in the bird blinds with her cousins. They were pretending that they kept moving to bigger and better homes...heh.

I got to see my cousin I was very close to growing up. She came with her sister and mother for an afternoon visit. We went to BYU together and I hadn't seen her in years - around 20, I think. It was a happy, if brief, reunion.

Amazingly all the quilts got finished and some movies got watched while babies got held, food got made and the the kitchen got cleaned. We had about 25 people there for most of the time. I even made it to that yarn store in Steveston where Amy picked out some yarn for a hat. It was a very nice yarn store, I have to say but I think Art of Yarn in Kelowna is a close rival. I forgot to look for more yarn, though, to match the gorgeous yarn that Laura gave me for Christmas a couple of years ago. I had one adventure that involved going out to buy some peppers and ended up in me getting lost and crossing both the Queensboro and Alex Fraser bridges as I tried to return the few blocks to my parents place.... I still maintain that Vancouver is one of the poorest marked cities in North America!

We left Sunday morning, picked up a load of Erin's stuff from my brother's garage and made it home just after 3pm with a niece in tow for a week's visit. I am filled up with sister loving, mad quilting and good food. I am still tired! I try to think of what was the highlight for me, but I can't. Would it be the first night sleeping on an air mattress with my oldest daughter? Seeing her dark head beside me on a pillow? Was it holding my youngest nephew (3 weeks old) and having him fall asleep in my arms? Was it Carmen who so charmingly kept insisting for me to teach her how to knit? Was it hardly seeing Rhiannon as she was completely involved in many kinds of play with her cousins? It would probably be just being there with my sisters, laughing, talking, comparing boobs... a time worth having, that's for sure!

It All Evens Out In the End

I grew up with brothers. Lots of them. I am the firstborn in my family but at the tender age of 14 months, I got a brother. 20 months after that I got another one. Two years after that, I got another one. A handsome bunch I'm sure you will agree. But let me tell you... THREE brothers... That's enough for a tribe. A tribe I did not belong to. Sometimes I felt it was their tribal duty to torture me! Ah, don't get me wrong, I gave as good as I got and I love to tell Doug's kids the stories of the gross things he did as a kid.... And there were times that we got along... honest! But I yearned for a sister. A lot. I prayed and prayed and prayed for a sister. Every night. For years. When Layne (brother #3) was born, I was furious. Okay, turns out he is a great brother. But still...

The prayers began to pay off. I got my first sister just after my 7th birthday. And less than two years later I got another. So here in this picture at 12, I had 2 cute sisters. (and another brother, not shown)

Just before I left home for University, my parents had their 10th child - another sister. Things had finally evened out. There were 5 girls and 5 boys in my family. When I was 18 I had 4 sisters - Katie, age 11, Larua, age 9, Martha age 4 and Sarah who was a newborn. We didn't really get to swap clothes or have girls movie nights or talk about boys together.

Later, when I was almost 21 and 3 months pregnant with my own first daughter, my mom gave birth to twins - the last of our bunch - 2 girls. So the score settled at 7 girls and 5 boys. My younger sisters got to grow up amongst lots of sisters. I think they can thank my years of nightly prayers for that!

Now sometime when I was a 'too-cool' teenager, my mother instituted 'girls week-end' when our father and brothers were all gone for 'father-and-son-campouts'. I don't remember much of these first girls week ends, unfortunately - being so cool and so much older than my sisters. But girls week end went on after I left. Getting better and better, or so I have heard because I haven't been to one since I left home.

So today, I am packing. And my oldest and youngest daughters are packing. There is a frozen chocolate mousse torte that Erin made that we are packing, too. Along with all my knitting and crocheting stuff, and stuff to make lip balm and stuff for wearing to the bird sanctuary. We are heading to a girls week end tomorrow around noon at my mother's house. 5 of my 6 sisters will be there and 3 of my 4 sisters-in-law and many of my nieces and a cousin and aunt or two. Movies, good food and sisters.... I can tell you that it was worth it - all those years of praying! I think I have this coming, don't you?

Long, Sweet Grass

Look what Freya did with the grass in our pasture? She turned it into this. Isn't this just the most amazing yarn you have ever seen? I just got this today from my spinning friend who cleaned and spun the wool I had shorn in the fall. This here is Freya's. I am in awe. What is not to love about sheep, I ask you!? Especially Icelandic sheep that give you the most amazing yarn! Now... what to make, what to make?!

Happiness 7

Happiness is making Borscht with my own beets who (why, yes, I used 'who'... beets are people, too!) have been waiting patiently in the bottom of my fridge for this very day. And of course, I used my very own chicken, too. The last of those noisy roosters from my laying chicks. This was a 2.8 lb Ameracauna rooster.


See? There he is!


I can't tell you how good this Borscht is. All others pale in comparison! Dean, who eschews borscht loves this borscht. You have just got to try the recipe. Its not that hard. You can do it!




Inspired by Angry Chicken I made these. Indeed! Why leave home? (gotta put a dent in my 25 lbs of coconut somehow!) These were awesome. So good!

Yup! happy, happy, happy!

Happiness 6

I have been a cat lover all of my life. It is a testament to how much I love cats and how much my husband loves me that we have as many as we do. He's allergic, after all. However, he seems to be able to tolerate our black and grey cats.

I love this picture of Sampson and Rosco. They are both asleep and didn't wake up when I took the picture, even. Rosco with is arms around Sampson's neck....




And right now we have a visitor who came along with Erin when she came back home. This is Saetia. She is a rather crabby cat but the way she hisses makes me laugh - she gets so 'into it' that she snorts between hisses. Rhiannon can mimick her perfectly.

Rhiannon took this picture of Saetia making herself comfortable in Erin Traxel's guitar case.

Cats know right when you need some loving. I know when I am counselling and it is intense, Rosco makes his way in and curls up comfortingly on their lap.

My cats. They make me happy!

Happiness 5

It is true that I knit and crochet a fair amount. However, I almost never make anything for myself. Of all the hats I have made, only one is for me. (although all my children have several). So, I set about to correct that. After all my practise making wee socks, (most of my wee nieces and nephews and baby friends have a pair) I thought I would make myself a pair. I bought some Noro sock yarn and was about to start when.... I saw this post on Soule Mama. How convenient! I already had all the supplies! Socks slipped by the wayside and I made myself this simple shawl FOR MYSELF!! What's not to be happy about that?

Happiness 4

Sunshine streaming through the windows (ignore that it is -13) and listening to Fleetwood Mac, Rumours CD. Especially this song... ignore the cheesy highschool band. It was my favourite recording on Youtube because of Lindsay Buckingham's energy. I love this song! How can you not dance and sing on the top of your lungs to this song?

Happiness 3

This is related to the first post. This makes me happy. This is pasta sauce made from my canned "Dr. Wyche's Yellow Tomatoes". I sure loved my yellow and orange tomatoes last summer! And they have looked so beautiful canned - bottles of yellow, orange and red tomatoes on my shelf. And then of course, is the joy of eating them in this simple and delicious pasta sauce!

Happiness 2

Things have been pretty creative around here lately. Here is another scene that makes me happy. Two of my girls busy creating in 'my studio'. It has been a happy productive place!

Happy Week

Okay, the weather is discouraging. It is -5 right now and there is fresh snow on top of the snow that has not melted yet from December. And it looks like it will be too cold for washing windows until at least Wednesday... -14 in fact. Or so they predict. I can only hope they are wrong.

In the meantime, though, I have a lot to cheer me up. Everyday I will be posting pictures of things that make me happy. Today I am ecstatic because of this:



Yes! Sprouts! Tomato sprouts to be exact! Green Zebra, Cherokee Purple (from you! Amy)Silver Fir Tree, and from seeds I saved myself which I called 'random mid-sized' and 'huge round tomatoes'...hehe



I think today if I had a camera on them all day, I would have been able to see them push through the soil. This morning when I checked there were 3 and then a few hours later, there were 5!




Rhiannon says, "what's the big deal, they're just sprouts?" I said, "oh no they're not. These are potential pounds of fresh, delicious tomatoes!"


I did an experiment this year. I have planted seeds regularly since Feb 21 - planting 6 more every 2 days and making note of the date I planted them. I wanted to see if they were really affected by the moon.

I believe that what we believe really affects the things around us and there is growing scientific proof of the power of our beliefs. And I think it could be possible that if one really believes that the moon affects germination, etc. that this belief could have some affect on germination.

My belief is that love is the most powerful force there is. So, I wrote on all of my paper pots how much I loved my seeds - lots of different love notes and then on the sides of the trays, I also wrote love notes to my seeds. And I have been loving them and sending them loving thoughts daily as I water them and keep them comfortable. This morning seeds planted Feb 19, 21, 23, and 28th have all sprouted. (that is all the days I planted them on except for some days in March) The ones planted on the 28th are under a grow light.

Anyways, today I am tomato loving and it makes me happy!

Banana Head

So in my quest for bottle-less conditioner I can report a couple of successes. My first success was using this recipe. My hair was soft and not greasy or stringy and quite curly. However, it was a bit 'fly-away' as my mother used to call my hair when it had static electricity. And the very fine hairs at the nape of my neck were not conditioned quite enough. I did rinse my hair with baking soda and water before applying the banana conditioner. And it does have the added problem of bananas not being grown anywhere near here...

This week I tried a recipe that I can't find the link for now. But it was:
2 Tablespoons of honey
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon of almond oil
1 Tablespoon of yogurt

I melted the honey and then poured all the ingredients into the food processor. I rinsed my hair first with baking soda and water as usual and then applied this mixture and wrapped my head in a plastic bag for half an hour and rinsed out this concoction in the shower and then rinsed my hair with the juice of one lime in a gallon of water.

Again my hair is soft and very shiny and curly. The little hairs at the nape of my neck are better than the previous recipe. I think it is the lime juice that makes my hair so shiny. And this recipe is mostly available from very local ingredients (except the almond oil or the lime!).

I thought Amy would like the fact that these both include honey! And they taste great if you accidentally get any in your mouth!

I have an exceptional mother...

This is an excerpt from an e-mail that my mother sent to my sister-in-law, Esther.

Hi Esther,

Thanks for appreciating what I shared. I'm a little embarrassed by your reaction---I am not extraordinarily intelligent. Although I learned to read easily and I did do well in school---I am no genius. From my experience I want others to know that you do not need to be a genius or have special training to be inspired how to teach your own child. Schools and Psychologists try to make you feel that way some times. I remember when Jordan's teacher said she didn't think I was qualified to teach him sex education. Another one of my thoughts is that psychologists, who are usually men, have done mankind a disservice when they intimidate mothers from following their own intuitions and follow the latest worldly psychology instead. Heavenly Father does not send his pure and vulnerable babies to psychologists and only the educated. He sends them emotional, intuitive mothers who have powerful instincts built right into their very beings---I truly believe in the divine right of mothers for inspiration for any particular child who is given to her. I found myself to be a very fierce mother---couldn't help it---you have probably heard the story that I was so protective of my first newborn that I wouldn't even let my visiting mother-in-law hold her (how embarassing is that) Fortunately she was kind , patient and forgiving--and I did get over that. But I had very powerful feelings and had to go with them. Fortunately for me, my domineering husband soon realized there would be no rest or peace in our home if he ignored or crossed any of these strong feelings I had about the care of my children, so he honoured my feelings even if he didn't agree and thought I was being silly. He realized my feelings were much more deeply rooted than his thoughts and whims. For the most part that is. I'm a hard woman to live with when my maternal instincts are crossed. I once read a magazine article that said that a mother holding her newborn infant could intuitively tell you more about it than a team of psychologists studying it for months. After reading that, I injoyed trying to verbalize feelings I had about my new baby about their personality and character.

Some examples of how psychologists can be some times because they are not Moms is: There was a member of the church in Prince George for awhile who was church psychologist. At a parenting class he was teaching us, he tried to make the point that we should only pick up our infants when they are not crying, otherwise you are reinforcing them to be whiners and cry babies. How does that sit with you? Some men will say, ya , that is logical. But that goes totally against the grain of a mother who knows by instinct that she is teaching something far more important and basic by responding to the cry of her child---such as, I love you, I will respond to your needs, you are important to me, you are safe with me and because I am respecting your cry for help like this you will grow to be a loving, caring , empathetic person---I am teaching you that---and furthermore, you will grow up feeling secure and will not feel such a need to be a clilnging, whining, cry baby.

Another example; Don't talk baby talk to your baby or they will grow up talking baby talk. On the other hand, it is a natural instinct to talk baby talk to an infant, and I feel very strongly that it helps their intellect to develop faster than if you don't---because they "get it" faster and they can say it faster, therefore they are having the excitement of successful communication sooner and it is very rewarding to them. ie----if you hand a baby an item and say ta ta and then reach for it and say ta ta---they get it and can soon proudly say it---whereas it would take them much longer to figure out and repeat, "will you please give me that"----great baby language is Mama, Dadda or Papa---Num num because that is such a basic need---oh oh---how many babies love to say oh oh and know it means they have dropped or spilled something? Their ears seem to pick up the double sound to start with. And of course there is Byebye, ca ca and one of my favourites---I show them their toe toes when I change their diapers---and bum bum. To talk in sentences and use more correct words will flow natuarally and more quickly than if you don't use baby talk, in my oppinnion. You see I am very oppinnionated....

Ring of Fire

Isn't that what you called it last year, Laura? That is pretty much what my mouth is right now. Although it is looking less and less like a mouth and more and more like a beak because it is protruding so much.

This photo was taken yesterday morning. If anything it is a bit worse this morning. You can see the first cold sore fading. You can kind of see one on my bottom lip in the middle and then you can see the enormous one on my upper lip. It actually spreads all the way up to my nostril as you can see in this next picture taken this morning. (wouldn't want you to miss out on my misery!) (click on the picture to see the wee fish eggs on their trek to my nostril and every single pore on my face...)

And yes, I am doing everything I know of. I am applying fresh aloe vera, tea tree oil and L.Lysine cream directly to the cold sores. I am taking massive doses of L.Lysine, vitamin C, proflavanoids, as well as vitamin D, E and a B complex. I am drinking hyssop infusion and nettle infusion and completely avoiding sugar, chocolate, nuts, peas and popcorn. And taking oregano oil 3 times a day.

I do think it is a bit better because of the L.Lysine. The fish eggs are tiny aborted fish eggs that aren't scabbing over. And it feels different on the inside of my lip than it usually does. However, feeling a little self-conscious about leaving the house with my lips sticking out 2 feet in front of me...

Kicking the Bottle Habit

So after publishing my 'hair routine' I have completely changed everything. As I said in that post, I wanted to learn how to make my own conditioner. And about a month ago, I decided to just stop buying conditioner and force myself to figure something out. I just couldn't justify all those plastic bottles coming into my house.

So... since then, my hair has not quite been the same. First I tried a recipe out of Organic at Home. It was an egg, 2 drops of castor oil, 2 drops of lavender essential oil and 2 drops of rosemary essential oil mixed with enough powdered milk to make a paste. Well... no. That didn't really work. My hair dried to an enormously huge 'big hair' state and it felt like there was something in my hair. (later my hair dressing friend told me that the milk protein is far too large to be absorbed by hair).

In the meantime I simply rinsed my hair with baking soda and then sprayed it with apple cider vinager. Which does get it clean but has no humectant for happy curls.

The next thing I tried was a recipe from this website - the avacado homemade conditioner. Although with my previous experience, I only mixed up half a recipe - half an avacado and 1 egg yolk. And I rinsed it according to the instructions, with apple cider vinager and the juice of one lime. My hair was really shiny and very soft.... but stringy and I had to brush it a lot to get rid of the stringy-ness. So I poured a bucket of baking soda and water over my head followed by a bucket of apple cider vinager and water... And we are back to square one. Although I might try that recipe again sometime when my hair needs deep conditioning - like in the super dry summer.

Next I am going to try this one. Although the problem I have found with most of these recipes is that they call for you to wash your hair with shampoo after you have done the treatment. The other problem is that most of the ingredients are definitely not available in a 100 mile radious - most being tropical fruits.

I'll keep you posted... Suggestions welcome!

So Much For That

So in November or so, while at Nature's Fare, I noticed a bottle of L-Lysine in the sale rack. Not having heard of it, I picked it up and read that it was to prevent cold sores. So I bought it. When I got home, I looked it up on the internet and found this and a list of foods (that I can't find now) to not eat in order to avoid a cold sore. I got the cold sore virus when I was 10. For the last couple of decades, I normally get one cold sore a year - usually in February, although in the last 2 years I have got it in March. Last year I had a particularly bad cold sore that lasted for a month and spread all over the right side of my mouth - both upper and bottom lips. I made up my mind that this year I would avoid getting a cold sore. I also found this lip balm recipe and when I was making all my lip balms for Christmas I made up a cold sore remedy one as well - adding all the essential oils I had that were supposed to be good for cold sores (peppermint, tea tree, cinnamon, bergamot...).

So in January I started taking the L-Lysine and ate a lot less chocolate and peanuts.

And then, on February 10 those old familiar fish eggs appeared on the bottom left corner of my lip. The cold sore.

I can say this: I think it has gone away faster. Although it is hard to remember exactly how long they usually take to go away as I only get 1 a year. It has been 10 days now and it is looking much better. The swelling did go down very quickly. I think one of the things that has really helped this year is using the salve I made in the summer from olive oil, calendula, plantain, chamomile and bees wax. I have applied it constantly and it has kept it moist and kept the healing skin from cracking and bleeding. Tea tree oil, which I have been using for years, also seems to be the most effective at stopping it in its tracks and drying it up. At night when I go to sleep and when I go out, I use the lip balm.

Not sure if I will buy L-Lysine again but there you have it, my cold sore report. At least I have got it over with earlier than last year!

Beanie-op-olous

I had a sisterly treat this week. Bethany and I have been talking about her coming to visit me and on Wednesday morning she called to say that she could come that day. I met her and Ben in Kamloops (after some typically Clarke anxious moments...). So she arrived Wednesday evening and was here until Friday early afternoon. But we did at least a weeks worth of stuff in that time.
My favourite thing was her sitting down to the kitchen table shortly after she got here and saying, "so, what shall we make?" We tried a new recipe out of the Simply In Season cookbook I perpetually have out of the library - delicious sweet potato quesadillas and some samosoa quesadillas. It was very fun to cook together, I have to say!

The next day we spent the day visiting, reading and knitting up at the ski hill and didn't get home until dinner time, our day was far from over. We rented "PS I Love You" - a very satisfying chick flick (everyone around here is much too cool to watch one of those kinds of movies with me - one needs a sister for these things!). And while we watched, we made a simple baby quilt. Bethany luckily found fabric that she liked in my stash. We started and finished the entire thing that evening! This is how my 'studio' came to look like this. Bethany will want me to say that she did not make this mess personally but I will add, that somehow it happened while she was here... And she will also want me to say that before she left, it was restored to its former level of tidiness. Here is the proud Bean with her first baby blanket.

We took a break mid blanket to make a dessert that Beth had seen on a cooking show. It involved tortillas and the apple pie filling that I made from my own apples in the fall and some sweetened condensed milk that had been boiled for 2 hours in the can. They were absolutely delicious! So good that Dean and Rhiannon made more for breakfast the next day.

Early on Friday morning she made me this springy new skin which I love.

In the midst of all that crafty and cooking goodness there was some piano music. Some was solo Bean music and then there were duets and improvising with a certain young niece. I will leave you with a sample of their music.

In Reflection

Well, I was about to go to bed. I have spent the evening on the phone and reading my favourite blogs - vegging after a day at the farmer's market. But then as I secured the door, I noticed that I had neglected to put my chickens to bed. And of course, once I set my foot out the door, the baa-ing began in the sheep pen and I had to stop by to give a chin scratch or two. Valley bottom cloud is briefly banished and the moon is bright tonight - on its way to being full. The bare black locust, maple and linden trees are casting their moonshadows on the snow. And the beauty of it all revived me and I thought I might was well not put this post off any longer.

I have been processing my grandfather's death. Full of thoughts of him and at times deeply berieved. I went to his memorial service in Nanaimo (for photos see here). In the end, Erin, Kaetlyn, Drew and Rhiannon all wanted to come so we packed up the van and headed South. It was a very fast trip. We left Thursday after skiing. Thank God for Erin because I was hard hit by the flu and basically flopped into the back seat and dozed in and out all the way there as she drove. There were some dicey moments by 'The Summit' (formerly known as the toll booths) where the roads were greasy with slushy snow at which point I felt compelled to sit up and tell her how to drive (which she tolerated fairly well - better than I would have). We arrived at my brother Doug's at 10:30pm. (Oh, yah, Laura, that is what else I was going to say... quit calling my little brother dough!) Upon opening the door,small, pale blonde children hurtled down the stairs and threw themselves at me.... I love being an aunt!

The next morning we raced to the ferry in classic Clarke style following Doug's van and barely made it on. On the ferry, we first found my cousin Eugene and two of his 7 children. Although he was like a big brother to me growing up (both protective and annoying), it had been a very long time since I had seen him. And then we spotted my grandpa's younger brother, also on the ferry and before long, my sister Laura turned up.

I thought my grandpa's service was wonderful. It was at the Unitarian church in Nanaimo. All but two of his grandchildren and many of his great-grandchildren were there. I managed to get up to speak during the 'open mic' segment. I have never really had a problem with public speaking but to get up and speak about my grandpa was more emotional than I had anticipated. It didn't quite come out as poetic as I prepared in my journal but I managed to get out my main point - which was to acknowledge his unconditional love and acceptance. Erin sang "Imagine" with my brother. Hearing the emotion in my brother's voice brought tears to my eyes.

I am very glad I went It has been interesting processing all of that since I've been home. I know I have been lucky to have had my grandpa for 43 years. And I remember how he always encouraged my creativity. And his own discipline is an example to me and his courage in putting his own creativity out there. I have brought some momentos of him into my 'studio' to encourage me.

My grandma Clarke (my paternal grandmother) died 5 years ago. She lived with us for most of my teen age years in Terrace and before that we lived in the same town and she gave me my first job. She helped pay for me to go to University. But when she died, she hadn't been speaking to me for 15 years. Yet when she died, I felt a huge release. I knew that she now understood everything between us perfectly. And I often feel her around me. She is there when I am knitting and crocheting (which she taught me to do and would fix my mistakes and decipher patterns for me). And she is with me in my crafting and bread making and food preserving. She loved all those things, too. I feel like her spirit lingers around her family still and when I need her, she is there. Yet my grandpa (my maternal grandfather) who always maintained contact with me, I don't feel near me. I think he has moved on to whatever is next for his soul. I know he worked very hard in this life to resolve things. I don't feel like there are unsaid words between us. He knew how I felt about him and I know how he feels about me. Listening to the tapes of his stories, particularly the tape "The Wind Is From the South" I am reminded of how well he understood the human psyche in general and his own in particular. He was a man well ahead of his time or perhaps a person who knows themselves so well and accepts and loves themselves is unusual at anytime. I feel certain that his crossing of the veil was a joyful one; a welcome one and his soul has moved on to the next part of his journey. And I feel that odd sensation as I am left with only one grandparent living and my parents' mortality draws closer as well as my own. When my grandmothers were my age they were grandmothers..... they are hard to put into words, these big, epic thoughts and impressions. I am sure that one of the reasons I have been so sick with the flu this week is so I could lay around and contemplate all these things.

As I let my grandpa go and say 'good bye' in my own way - and in many ways - I remember the part of me that is him. He is my inspiration as I strive to find the courage of my creativity. It helps me cut through all my internal 'bs' and get to work. He reminds me that I have a work - a something that only I can contribute. And I grieve that I can't sit down to write a letter and tell him my thoughts on creativity and myself and see what he will say in response. It is all wrapped up...ribbons of thought and emotion that he, himself, would love unravelling.