In the early morning,
When the house is quiet,
When the children still slumber upstairs in their beds,
Before the busyness
And the noisiness
Of laundry and chores and meals -
This is when I dream.
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Ah! The snow is falling. I was hoping we were going to miss this storm. You see, Thomas, as of yesterday, is on the down hill side of chicken pox, and it has been a very long time since we have gotten to go out, what with us being contagious or in great pain for the last month or so. I was looking forward to making a trip for certain provisions down to Elizabethtown. I want cotton stuffing, and I need butter and chicken bouillon, and we all need some new gloves. David says we’re going anyway, but it rained all day yesterday and that snow might be sitting on a nice layer of ice and the roads here are winding, hilly, and narrow. I don’t need cotton stuffing, butter, and gloves so badly that I’m willing to risk lives for them. Oh, well. At least we have lunch. Next week is the annual agriculture show in Louisville. We went last year, but we weren’t actually doing any agricultural work yet and David had hurt HIS back two weeks before and Thomas was a newborn and, well, it wasn’t as much fun as we’d hoped! Come lunch time, too, there was very little to choose from among the vendors, and whatever was available was swamped with hundreds of other hungry show-goers. With seven kids in tow, it was a recipe for disaster. So we’re planning ahead this year. I had this idea for sandwich bread. You know, bread with the sandwich already in it. Just slice and eat. I made three loaves last night and I’m thinking it’s going to be a success. Today was to be the trial run. After lunch today, I’ll tell you how I made it and what I’ll be tweaking next week. Where ever you are, I hope the snow is not too deep and the power is on and your home is warm and your family and friends are all safe and snug. Because I love you. Have I mentioned that Maybelle’s been holding back her milk? Have I mentioned how frustrating that is? She is one stubborn cow. This morning, her udder was hard as a rock, full of milk. Any nursing mama knows exactly what I mean. Twenty minutes on the suction milking machine and another ten trying to coax the milk down by hand and still no milk. Finally, I let the calf out of her stall. I let that calf out and then I sat right back down and went back to milking. Oh, that little cow, she butted her head right in between Maybelle’s legs and she started suckling on that rear teat and suddenly the milk was flowing! I milked the other two for all I was worth, dodging kicks and redirecting an eager little mouth, and in just a few minutes, I had pulled over three quarts. It was a pretty wild milking session, mostly because the calf was not in the most opportune position, I think, but it is now perfectly clear what’s going on. We had the two separated for a couple of days, but weather prompted us to put a hold on the weaning. I really wish there was a way for us all to get along. She’s obviously a good mama, but I really want my milk. And for the record, that was the most fun I’ve had milking in a long time. I lost half my bucket when she kicked it over, and I got kicked myself – no harm done – but I like milking when there’s milk to be milked!
A little blurry, I’m afraid, but just a little. Tax rebate is coming in soon. Hoping there might be enough for a new camera. Round Two of the chicken pox has finally caught up with us. Brenna and Penny have it, but Penny doesn’t mind. That’s a big benefit of being very young, I think. They just assume that whatever state they find themselves in is normal and continue on cheerfully. * * * * * I’d been hoping Daisy-the-dairy-calf and I could peacefully coexist, sharing Maybelle’s bountiful milk without incident. I hoped that because I wanted Maybelle to do the work of raising her calf and because I think she’d learn the art of being cow so much better from an experienced one. What do I know about being a cow? However, being such a dedicated mama, Maybelle wasn’t letting down her milk, holding it back for her calf. Understandable, of course, but unacceptable. She’s a milk cow, after all, and we want milk. That’s why we got her. So yesterday, we separated them. Maybelle is not particularly pleased with us and has not yet let down all her milk, but even subtracting the calf’s rations, we’re getting a lot more already. As a bonus, that little calf likes me a lot better now that I’m the one with the warm milk! * * * * * We got a fair bit of snow last night, so today is house cleaning day. And bread baking day. * * * * * Thomas celebrated his first birthday yesterday! I can hardly believe it’s been a whole year since he was born, and at the same time, I can hardly believe he’s only been here one year. It’s funny how, when I’m pregnant, I just think about the logistics of adding one more: where will he sleep, what will he wear, how will we arrange the car seats in the van. But then, holding that new baby in my arms, something happens, something changes, and suddenly I can’t imagine that this perfect little person ever wasn’t a part of my life. * * * * * Thomas has just recently begun kissing me. Forcefully. He grabs hold of my face with both his pudgy little hands, turns me right toward him, and lays a big wet one on me. I just have to be careful that he doesn’t bite me, too, while he’s at it. * * * * * Our garage school is working very well. I was worried that I would get really behind on things like laundry, but I’ve actually noticed improved productivity all around. At least, on the days when my back doesn’t hurt so badly. I remember to take dinner meat out of the freezer early in the morning, so no last minute wondering about what to make. I usually have all the laundry washed by the time we go out, since we’re up early anyway. I just feel like we need to come up with a good lesson schedule out there, and plan for the younger ones better, and we’ll be good to go. We all like this new arrangement very well. * * * * * I finished up that art history course last weekend. Woohoo. Or something. Here’s hoping I’ve gotten rid of that college bug once and for all.
Happy Saturday, friends! Thank you again for your prayers, too. Today, I am fairly mobile, luckily, since I wanted to do a few things and I actually can. It doesn’t last for long, so I take advantage. I know. Maybe if I rested, it’d keep. But I think you all know how that goes. A whole ‘nother day of sunshine! (How come we speak that, but can’t write it?!) Alas, I have not taken any new photos, but we did hurry over the feed store to replenish the coffers before the hungry animals revolt. We ran out of everything this month! I’m chalking it up to the cold. Maybe they’ve been eating more to stay warm.
The only problem with feed day, besides having to haul all those fifty pound sacks into the barn and empty them into metal trash cans so that any rodents the cat happens to miss don’t ruin our food, is the lady cows next door. See, they ran out of hay yesterday, and when they run out of hay, they just moo at any two-legged creature they see. They assume we are all magical founts of dried grass. (Don’t worry: the older girls did all the carrying.)
Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk away from that face? Alas, we get our hay from the same place she does. (Such good and generous neighbors we have!) Sometime tonight, Neighbor H will start up his tractor, and then those cows will really get to bellowing! They know what’s coming.
This is a gratuitous photograph of a calf because I thought he was just so darned cute. As soon as I snapped the shutter, he took off like I’d just stolen his soul. We’re in for some rough weather this weekend. Maybe. Isn’t it funny that we are under a severe weather warning for a storm that has not even developed yet? Well, storm or no storm, we’re ready for whatever the weekend holds. Hopefully, it holds a nap or two. And some fresh bread. I was going to post some sunshiny pictures of some happy children, but I got sidetracked. Oh, well. There’s always tomorrow, Grandma. “You should post a picture of your calf,” my mother said. “I’m sure everybody wants to see that calf.” “I’m waiting for the sun,” I told her. Nothing looks attractive in this dreary gray winter light, you know, and we haven’t had a smidgen of sun here in two weeks. It happened right in the middle of lunch today. A sunbeam fell right across the table, bathing adorable children in it’s warm glow. “Gotta go!” I said, and I grabbed my camera and ran. When I found my cows, they were taking their afternoon siesta and didn’t bother to get up for their portraits.
Daisy is a little more than a month old and she’s drinking all our milk. The neighbors say we should separate them during the day, but that means one of them won’t have access to the barn, so I’m still considering the logistics of that. As soon as I come up with something, I’m going to enjoy drinking Daisy’s milk! I wasn’t terribly happy when I got up yesterday. I hadn’t slept well the night before, and for much of it, just layed awake, unable to get comfortable around the pain. So I sat there with my cup of coffee, feeling irritable and thinking I should probably just go say the morning prayers. I didn’t much feel like it, hadn’t felt like it in some days, maybe even weeks, but my Magnificat was on the desk right beside me, and as I glanced at, buried under a crochet project, a dog collar, and an assortment of papers, I noticed it was already open to that day’s prayers. I guess God really had something important to say to me. Be calm, infinitely calm, both in soul and in body. Do not attempt too much, but what you do, do well and gently. Quality first, but good quality. Follow grace in souls; take its step. It is adagio; often adagissimo, but very sure. Forget yourself completely – time, studies, health, reputation… Give yourself utterly, without counting the cost, without reserve, without thought of yourself. God alone! We know tht to them that love God, all things work together unto good. To those with good will; that is to say, those who, submitting and making over their reason and will to the Holy Spirit and allowing themsel ves to be guided by him, invariably arrive at that perfection willed for them by God. That does not mean that we can sit with our arms folded and leave it all to him. On the contrary, we must make use of all that divine Providence sends us: reverses, falls even; bearing always in mind the good that the Holy Sprit wants to draw from these things. given that disposition, the Holy Spirit will never be absent. He also makes use of reverses to correct our faults and set us on our way again. Use everything, then, with this end in view; in all weathers, keep you compass pointing to God; make him your aim. ~Dom Augustin Guillerand Yes, He was definitely talking to me. Now I’m going to tell you about my back pain so you all can pray for me. Some months ago, I fell down the stairs. It was bizarre, really. I never lost my footing. I was coming down from tucking in the children and I stopped to pick up a small toy left on one of the stairs. I’d passed it on my way down, so it wasn’t out of reach now, but as I bent, it was like somebody pulled a rug out from under me. I had no sense of being unbalanced, no feeling on instability. One moment I was on my feet and the next, I landed hard on the left side of my bottom and slid down the rest of the stairs. Ouch. I had a big purple bruise and an understandable soreness for several weeks afterwards, but I did recover. About three weeks ago, a little more maybe, I noticed a dull, achy pain in the bones of my pelvis. I also had a cold. It was that Thursday morning, the seventh of January, that I coughed. That dull ache in my pelvis suddenly yielded to sharp shooting pain that began in my back and radiated down my leg, sometimes as far as my ankle. I’ve had a few visits with the physical therapist, and my pain no longer extends past my knee, but I’m seeking x-rays of the area, too, just to be sure. The pain varies in intensity, from barely-there to all-I-can-think-about, and three weeks into it now, I’m just tired. I see God’s hand in all this, I do, but this is having a detrimental impact on every area of my life. Squeaky wheels get oiled, even with God, so I’m asking you to please pray for me. I’m praying for you, too. I always do.
I stopped in my tracks. “Hm?” I questioned, knowing better than to jump to conclusions without seeking confirmation through vague questions. Penny smiled and held up her hands, using one to hold down the middle fingers on the other to form the “I Love You” sign. “Oh!” I smiled. “Of course!” So we made love. Rosie has trouble sounding her R’s. A while back, she ran into another little girl who had trouble with the L’s. No matter, though. Five year old girls are five year old girls. “Come on! Let’s play!” Rosie shouted. Her little friend skipped after her, shouting, “Yeah! Let’s pway!” Rosie stopped and looked at her. “Why do you want to pway?!” The little girl looked back. “You said you wanted to pway. Let’s pway!” “I don’t want to pway,” Rosie shot back. “I want to play.” Apparently, this continued for their entire visit. Later on, at dinner, we asked Rosie how she’d enjoyed her playtime with her new friend. “I don’t know,” she said. “I wanted to play, but she kept saying she wanted to pway. Why did she want to pway so much?” “Rosie,” we said between giggles, “she didn’t want to pray. She wanted to play, too!” It could have been a perfect friendship, if only they’d been able to talk to each other! |
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I’d had just finished tucking in the little girls. I was halfway out the door, hand on the light switch, when Penelope looked up at me and asked sweetly, “Mommy, you want to make love?”