New Table

Where has the time gone? I've ignored this blog terribly for far too long. I turned 34 over the weekend. My girls are getting so big! It is supposed to snow today, for the first time all winter, basically. The cattle are doing well, the chickens (I think) are doing well (it's hard to count them), and we're starting to get more eggs after their solstice sabbatical. :)

This is a project I've wanted to share. I got a table last summer at a garage sale for $25 from some Mennonites. It was about 3 feet wide, and 8 feet long, homemade, and with a surface layer of formica of some kind; that plastic-ey wood-looking stuff so many tables are covered with. It only had it on the top though, so I thought I might try to 'refinish' it.

The underside of the top is plywood, and the legs are just 2x4s with routered edges. It had been stained with something, as you can see in the photo where I haven't sanded below:

During the sanding stage

The top, of course, was the formica and I didn't know what was below it. The edges of the top were soft-grain wood (like the 2x4s), maybe 1x2s. There was a groove routered along the edge of the laminate surface, and the 'corner' of the 1x2 wood was slightly rounded.

As it happened, the good people I bought it from delivered the table to my front yard while I was at church one evening. It sat out that night, and the next day in the sunshine that dark faux-wood really heated up. Hubby and I were able to take flat tools (paint scrapers?) and begin to separate the laminate from the table. That was quite a job; contact cement works really well. 

At that point we could see there was 'real wood' (not plywood) as a table surface, but it was covered in layers and bits of the rubbery contact cement. I made several phone calls to my friend (who did our countertop redo a few years back) to get expert advice, and on his recommendation I bought a cheap Random Orbit Sander.

[sidenote: Random Orbit Sander, where have you been all my life?? Over 33 years I limped along, wishing, wondering if there wasn't an easier way to sand the many things I've sanded, and NO ONE told me about you! I love you!]

Following his instructions as to technique, grit coarse/fineness, etc, I managed to clean up the top of the table. I completely sanded off the sharp edge/groove at the edge of the tabletop, making a softly rounded edge to the whole thing. I realized shortly that the wood was all quite soft. Probably pine, or whatever your local lumber store stocks for building projects. One board in particular is even softer - it's the darker-toned board in the photos below. The feet were quite banged up, so I sanded and rounded parts of them too. The top appeared to be 1- or 2x6 boards, laying lengthwise. There were a couple deep holes/gouges that had bored down through the laminate surface, but I just chalked these up to character. Once I had it sanded and cleaned of all sawdust, I used a satin finish polyurethane on the top and legs (I ignored the underside of the table). I believe the top has four coats, and the legs 2 or 3 coats.

When we returned from our October trip, and my final layer had cured for a week or two, we hauled it indoors. It's HEAVY. And we buggered up the top somewhere along the way. :] But it's situated in our dining room, and I LOVE it. For $25, plus about $20 in materials (not counting my New Tool which I should've had already) I have a table that REALLY works.

Even if I have to shout for Hubby to pass the salt...

Loooonngg table

 The dark pinkish strip is the extra-soft wood. Due to the sanding, it wore down a little quicker than the rest, so it now serves as a 'trough' of sorts - anything spilled tends to go along it instead of off the edge of the table. Works for me!

I love the knots and color variations

 It's already additionally dinged-up from pencils and forks and other childhood weaponry, but as a family table, I'm not worried about it. I can always refinish it, or add another layer of polyurethane if necessary, and it's not like I'm out $700 if it's utterly destroyed. :)

These Days...

I'm knitting.. I said I wouldn't, and then I did. Mostly little stuff for little people. I got two knitting books - on my kindle! - on a cyber-monday deal. Last Minute Knitted Gifts and More Last Minute Knitted Gifts. Both of which might as well be titled "The Only Knitting EllaJac Will Try."[That's not entirely true. Three years ago I bought the yarn and began a poncho/capelet thing. I've had my needles pulled out, my needles scratched, bent, straightened, broken, and lost, and I'm still only on the edge trim]

I'm making Christmas gifts of the caloric version. Nothing too extravagant, but I'm laughing because I'm using organic popcorn... along with butter, marshmallows, and M&Ms... :P

I'm planning a brief trip out of town, and appropriate foodstuffs to feed us at various holiday events (pizza party? Not if you're gluten or dairy-free!).

I'm trying to send off my Christmas cards/newsletters. I posted jpgs of them on facebook, but the real-live ones which need to reach the mailbox... well, they're still somewhere in my van.

Considering how/where to give more. There are a few families I know who I'm looking forward to blessing, but also thinking about how to give more where it makes a bigger difference. Compassion has a gifting option, as does World Vision and Heifer Project. There are probably more, too.

I'm reading books. About compost, about farming, history and just for fun. One of my best friends (who I obviously don't spend enough time with) was recently a little surprised to hear me mention my weakness for Vince Flynn spy/assassin thrillers. :) Brad Thor is good too...

On the subject of reading, might I recommend Being George Washington? It's a history book, written like a novel, with commentary highlighting some of the qualities Washington had and who he was. And how we can aspire to be the same kind of good, have the same kind of integrity. BE what this nation needs. Each of us.

We replaced our dead tv (with another hand-me-down), and while not *huge*, it's still big enough (and not flat like the new ones) that we didn't want to try to get it upstairs into the tv room. So it's in our living room, and has been just the right kind of blessing, without being a curse (and I hope it stays that way)... We got a Roku thingy (I think that's the official term), which gives us a handful of internet channels (and complete control over *what* channels we have). Netflix works through it, and there are other premium/paid channels, plus some free ones (like pandora radio). And because we had to get the high-end Roku to work with our ethernet, we also got the Angry Birds game, which has offered some surprisingly fun family time... :)

Mostly I'm enjoying the season. Yes, it's getting busy, and I have moments where I'm overwhelmed with the balancing act of trying to keep everyone eating as they should, without offending guests or hosts, but most of the time I'm basking in Christmas music, loving my girls, and thanking God for this time.

Thankful

It's a non-traditional meal for us this year, but still so much to be thankful for.

So much.

Around Here These Days

Fall is certainly here. The nights are often in the 20s, my garden is full-on dead (but, for once, I've actually yanked a few plants and tossed them over the fence), and we use the pellet stove in the daytime (when we can get it started).

The girls are all healthy. I spent a week in October terribly sick - fever and aches were the only symptoms, but it kept me off my feet for a full week. THAT was not good for the housekeeping, let me tell you. And we ran out of bananas and eggs more than once (this whole-foods living doesn't leave much for kids to fend for themselves!). I did deign to take ibuprofen when my fever rose above 104˙, messing up lo, these many years. :)

We continue to homeschool with Ambleside Online, however, the week I was ill certainly revealed that apparently *I* am the only person who does anything around here and/or *I* am the only person who makes anyone do anything around here. These are not good dynamics. :( I do not know the answer yet, but I am praying about it, and debating on whether academics need to take a hiatus temporarily to give Real Life Skills some focus. For me, too.

The 20 pullets we raised this summer turned out to be 17 pullets and 3 roosters (I'm still wondering if I can get a refund on the pullet price I paid...), and one pullet succumbed to a Great Horned Owl. I'm sure it's no coincidence that the Devil has horns too... Anyway, the old hens are molting and taking their annual sabbatical from laying, and the new pullets have given us 2 or 3 eggs total, but production certainly isn't keeping up with our needs, so i've been having to buy eggs. Usually from an unmanned roadside cooler, sometimes from the grocer, and WOW am I reminded how blessed we are to have free-ranging hens. The product isn't even comparable to the store's.

We now officially have 3 jersey steers. We waited a long time to take care of Chuck (about a week and a half ago; nearly 6 months old) because of his Special Needs. I feed them every day now, and scratch my head and wonder if I'm feeding them enough/too much, too frequently/too rarely and the rest of it. I am fairly secure in my belief that Mae is pregnant; we boarded about a dozen ugly Angus-type cattle in September/October, and among them were 2 young bulls. There was no sign that Mae came into heat, so she probably settled after spending 6 weeks with a Highland bull before we got her. :) She is now quite tame, inasmuch as she comes near for her feed and will tolerate being touched through the fence or gate. The other day she was mooing at me near the garden, so I agreed to give her some hay (which is 100 yards or more from where I was. I walked along the fence and sang, "c'mon Mae!" and began running.. She tossed her big horns and galavanted alongside me up to the area where the hay is. I eased up before we got there, because I realized that she could toss herself right through the fence and never notice, were she inclined... :]

I 'wormed' the cattle using Shaklee's Basic H, of which I had to buy 5 gallons for over $200, because of course they've updated to Basic H2 and there hasn't been 50 years of experience to vouch for its safety or effectiveness at this application (of which Shaklee doesn't endorse). I expect I'll never have to buy from them again, considering the rates of application. :)

Hubby's work has eased up - still full time, but no on-call weekends and few after-hours projects (um, unless you count the projects *I* request...). We have been avoiding wheat for the most part, and are trying to limit the grains we eat as well. We eat potatoes, sweet potatoes and squash more often instead.

Lately I've been reading:
Rodale's Complete Book of Composting
You Can Farm
Salad Bar Beef
Wheat Belly
Folks, This Ain't Normal

Planning to Borrow (from the Library):
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto
Fast Food Nation
Omnivore's Dilemma

And wishing for:
Growing a Farmer: How I Learned to Live off the Land
An Agricultural Testament
Holy Shit: Managing Manure to Save Mankind

September to Remember

What a lovely, lovely,  month. This was my kind of September, let me tell you.

Processing Corn

Every year I can remember, in our house (8 years, now), I have fought (and sometimes lost) the battle of "I refuse to fire up the pellet stove before October!" Instead (or in addition), I would break out the flannel sheets, the longjohn underwear, the sweaters.

Big Sister's Birthday Party

But not this year. It has been incredible. Only a handful of days that didn't hit 80 or even 90, beautiful sunshine, the garden continuing in bliss. Cool evenings perfect for outdoor birthday parties, kids playing with the calves through sunset, and eating at the picnic table.

The high today is supposed to be in the high 70s.

But...

Ready for the freezer

We have left the homestead for a week or so, and I think we have forfeited that last breath of summertime. *sniff sniff* We have gone to an area that never gets that much sunshine anyways, and it is damp and dreary (in comparison). I am missing my summertime, and lamenting that the day we return is only supposed to hit 58 degrees. Alas, why did we not plan this trip for next week? :)

Organique turns four!

If you are enjoying an Indian Summer where you are, do me a favor and really soak it up. Enjoy it and spend some time with it, and tell it how much I miss it.

"Baby" (?) turned 2 in August. And needed her face washed.

Whatever you do, don't waste it. :)

'Tis the Season

...For Birthdays.

Today Organique turns four! She has moments of downright civility and joyful helpfulness. I LOVE those times. Last night, after a brief meltdown wherein she would not wash her hands, she helped to set the dinner table and felt so proud of herself. :) Also, I caught her seconds before she took the scissors (again) to Baby's hair (again) the other day. A few months back she snipped off the top of her little upwards-pointing pigtail! :( I have a locking file cabinet for the scissors, tape, glue, dry erase markers, etc. and now the sewing room has a hook-and-eye lock too. We'll raise her up right, yet! :)

Rub-a-dub-dub, um....?

Big Sister turned TEN two weeks ago. It still amazes me! When did that happen? Wasn't I a newlywed, expecting that first baby, just the other day? Am I approaching "old mom" status? I distinctly remember my aunt (age 26ish) exclaiming to my mother on her 34th birthday, "GEEZ, Lor, you're only SIX years away from FORTY!!!!" and they both freaked out at that thought. I was eight then, and I remember thinking, "um, YEAH, of course you are." :) Big Sister has as many moments of drama as Organique has of helpfulness, so it balances out. Overall she is a TREMENDOUS help with Baby, and *most* times will do as she's asked. She desperately wants a horse (though that's not an option just yet), and enjoyed a few days of "horse camp" that a homeschooled teen put on for kids. We celebrated her birthday outdoors with a lot of friends, her favored oatmeal cake, and the night's fun consisted mostly of petting the calves and chasing the chickens to no end. I usually don't allow that, but so many of the little kids aspired to actually *catching* and *petting* a chicken that I couldn't help it. The chickens survived, and the children went home happy, and covered in yuck. You know it's been a good party when that's the case. :)

Big Sister after horse camp, where the teacher let her 'canter' after the other kids left. She was thrilled. :)

Baby turned 2 five weeks ago. Such a big girl! She talks, though not nearly as well as her cousin Paisley (who is a day older), but certainly outweighs her petite counterpart! She "runs with the big girls" at every opportunity, and keeps up, too! She didn't figure out how to crawl out of her crib (and a vanity dresser sits right up against it!) until right around her birthday, and that has been a blessing. Oddly, she will lay down for a nap without complaint, and settle to sleep immediately, but many bedtimes are fraught with tears and crying and endless escapes and recaptures. Such a paradox. :) Also, she will clamp her mouth shut and fight like the dickens against a tiny taste of licorice fermented cod liver oil (and truthfully, so do I!), BUT when I fill a capsule full of the same thing, she will happily pop it in her mouth and chew it up. Silly girl. [I have to fill and swallow several capsules of that flavor. I much more recommend peppermint, but it's still not enjoyable. :) ]

Baby swinging all by herself, Independence Day weekend.

So tonight will end our 5 weeks of birthday parties. I also have a niece whose birthday was last Saturday, and a nephew whose day is next Saturday (though he's not local). My brother and his wife (also not local) welcomed a little boy a few weeks back also, so this is definitely our birthday season!! Perhaps soon I will be able to get back to blogging a little better. :)

The Rest of the Story

The first part here.

So there we were in the ER, Hubby hooked to every kind of intervention you can imagine. Sedated. Steroids. Antibiotics. It was as though one thing required the next.. and the next.. and the next.

When I arrived at the ER, I mentioned that all my inlaws were there. MIL and FIL and I went back to the room where they had him, and the aunts/uncles offered to watch the girls. We were for a while in the ER, where we were asked all about his medical history, the circumstances of the day, etc. The good news was that the preliminary bloodwork looked fine. Nothing amiss there. The CT scan they did while we waited also came out clear. No brain bleed, stroke, or tumors. The excellent nurse (Garth) explained what was planned and how it would work; Hubby would be moved to the Intensive Care Unit overnight, where they would keep him sedated (they didn't want to remove the ventilator until they knew he was not swelling in his throat at all, and didn't want him awake with a vent in). While they moved him, it would be 45 minutes and NO ONE is allowed in the ICU at that time. [I'm not sure why. Maybe medical experimentation, or probing.  hehe.]

We followed a nurse or someone up to the ICU waiting area where we chose the "Family" waiting room, which was very family-friendly; a large L-shaped room, kitchenette, tv, lots of seating, and doors which close to keep the little ones safe. My MIL went back to the ER waiting room to bring everyone else to where we were. She returned with an uncle, 2 cousins, another cousin and his family (from out of town, but they were passing through when they got word of the situation), both sisters, a brotherinlaw... I got a phone call from another cousin who had left on vacation that morning, but heard about it and wanted to let me know they were praying, and prayed with me on the phone. It was like a family reunion, I tell ya.

Someone was missing though. A few someones. Hubby's brotherinlaw, the father of the little birthday girl, had offered to take the kids... all the kids. I will just describe him here, so you can see why I love this. Brutha Josh is kindof short, strong build, former policeman, current mine-worker (?), future diesel mechanic, LOTS of tattoos, no hair, and (recently) trending towards cowboy. He took his 2 year old, our special-needs niece (almost 7), and my four (almost 10, 7, almost 4, and one-day-away-from-2) in my other sisterinlaw's van, and took care of business. He drove them to Burger King and bought them a late dinner - making sure my Li'l Artist had food that was safe for her - then took them to Grandma's and tucked them all in with blankies and pillows in the living room, and put a movie on. He even diapered Baby. :)

Once they had Hubby all hooked up in ICU, 2 at a time could visit him. Mom and I went in and could tell they'd washed his face. He looked much more comfortable in the bed, and - again - was hooked up to myriad machinery. Now he also had an automated blood-pressure cuff. A giant touchscreen recorded and displayed his breathing and respirations, blood pressure, heartrate, and probably more. Some of that information was displayed in the hallways on even bigger monitors. From the nurses' station, they could see every patient's heartrate at a glance. If and when something odd happened (anything outside preset parameters), things would beep, and the appropriate patient's information would flash. Did I mention that this hospital just opened in May? I think I've figured out how they plan to pay for it, but I digress.

There was no change in Hubby. Still sedated, still medicated for everything, still operating on an anaphylaxis diagnosis. I left to go check on the girls (this is midnight or so) and take their pajamas and Baby's blankie to them. And maybe check on Uncle Josh...

First I stopped in the Family Waiting Room, gave what I could for an update and sent Hubby's dad to see him. At my inlaws', the kids were watching a movie and Josh explained that he'd fed them, but was careful for Li'l Artist's limitations, etc, and was doing well with such a job. I brought in pajamas, tucked everyone in and took my sisterinlaw's van back to the hospital (I wanted to leave my van and carseats with the kids, just in case). I got back to the hospital around 1 am or shortly thereafter, and my inlaws left. Mom did tell me, however, that the IV pump had beeped (they'd not plugged it in after the transfer to ICU, and its battery was complaining). Hubby had sat up and tried to get up, momentarily. She had gone over to say "Honey, you're in the hospital." I asked her if she'd been tempted to say, "Honey, you've been abducted by aliens!" or something, but apparently I am the only one with such a twisted sense of humor... I lied down about 1:30, but the incredible amount of grit that was on my pillowcase, no matter how often I brushed it or turned it over, prevented much rest.

I got up when they came to... swab... his mouth. It was like a dentist vacuum/spray and a spongey swab, which they inserted in the last little bit of open space left in his mouth. He opened his eyes at this point too, but slept again soon.

At 4:00 a.m. they came to turn off his sedation medicine, and then they said, "Can you open your eyes?" and he did. The nurse explained that they would bring a respiratory therapist so they would be able to remove the tube as soon as possible. He nodded. At one point she left, and with his wrist strapped to the bed, managed to lift his hand a little, and make a gesture. He pointed at his face, and then made a fist and forcefully jerked his fist away from himself. I knew he was saying, "this thing: OUT. NOW." I smiled and reassured him they were going to do so right away. I also told the nurse that he had made a very clear, somewhat insistent gesture on the subject. The respiratory therapist showed up, explained some things, did some things -- like taking a sample of respiratory fluid by effectively cutting off his air and prompting him to cough, a lot. He also did something to check Hubby's diaphragm control, and Hubby was sailing through the tests, such as they were. At some point in this, they changed the ventilator (via touchscreen!) from full respiration to cpap, which is an influx of air, but the work of breathing is effectively the patient's. Hubby did well at this, but before they could remove the equipment he had to take arterial blood from his wrist and have the lab test CO2 levels, or something. The therapist very wisely explained that he would be unfastening Hubby's wrist, but the effects of Hubby prematurely removing the ventilator on his own would result in some pretty serious vocal chord damage, among other things. Hubby refrained from any efforts on this front. :) We spent several minutes playing handicapped charades. He, with hands tied down and no way to speak, trying to tell me to turn off the lights... Or that the corner of his eye needed scratched... That one took a while...

About 5:30 they were able to remove the ventilator and OG tube. What a process! He did great though. And I don't think I will ever forget the way he turned to me, and in the raspiest of whispers said, "stroke?" That was about the hardest thing up to that point, believe it or not. HE, asking ME, and thinking that's what it might have been... I don't even know if that makes sense, or if I can describe it, but I still feel my stomach twist when I think of it.

"No honey, no. All the major tests have been fine. They suspect an allergic reaction. I think the heat had a lot to do with it too, and you didn't have any water up there..." I fed him ice, then water, they removed the catheter and maybe one of the IVs. Then he dozed. I tried to do the same, and peered at a blue-clad woman as she did an EKG on him. I don't think there's a single test they didn't do.

Later I got back to my inlaws and took the girls home to catch up on some things while they moved Hubby to a 'regular' hospital room. I showered - finally! - and we fed chickens, and calves, and brought the laundry that had been on the clothesline overnight (and put out another load, and put a load in the wash!).

Hubby continued in the hospital, got an EEG (to check for seizures), and I took the girls to see him for the first time. Hubby was tired, but 'mostly fine,' and we awaited a doctor to read the EEG. Which didn't come that day, of course! :) I took the kids home and we slept in our own beds that night (more laundry switching!), and tried to get to town early Tuesday morning. One of the 'first responders' stopped by (a dairyman from south of town) to see how things were and get any updates that might help hone their expertise.

Late afternoon a doctor finally read the EEG, and it was fine. This was a big relief. He'd been itching to come home, but the doctor who does that is as busy as the doctor who reads EEGs, I think. Finally he called (I was at my inlaws') and they were NOT going to discharge him because his white blood cell count was high. *sigh* While relating most of this information to the family, the overtired doctor (he was) realized they'd given him steroids, which would do that, so they WOULD let him go after all. And there was much rejoicing.

My sweet friend who teaches a mom's bible study made us dinner that night (we had also seen her in the day, and there were cookies involved), which she delivered to us at Hubby's folks' right after we finally 'got out.' We ate it then and there, as Mom certainly expected we would've been home by then and didn't plan on us for dinner. What a blessing.

Hubby had to continue several days on a couple antibiotics to deal with the aspiration pneumonia, and had to wear a little monitor/recorder for his heart for 48 hours. His discharge paperwork noted "Heat exhaustion/dehydration" as his problem, with some concern for a cardiac problem (varied bp readings during his stay, though after he shifted position in the ICU after being un-hooked, his auto-bp registered very differently).

Last week we confirmed that there was "nothing remarkable" about his heart monitor stuff, and he never even pushed The Button (which would flag the area) for shortness of breath, or anything else. [then again, he was home watching Star Trek from dawn to dusk, because resting is a big part of pneumonia recovery!]

I had the hospital forward all of his records to Hubby's naturopath, who looked them all over. I had never followed up with the EKG, and the cardiologist nurses/technicians/assistants weren't very consistent with their answers about the meaning of "Abn EKG" written somewhere, nor very efficient at trying to track down specific information on the subject. In any case, we were very happy to hear the naturopath say that everything was within normal range - including the EKG. This was a big blessing, to be sure!

He continues to do well, working long days (but staying hydrated!) without much problem. There don't seem to be any noticeable after-effects, for which we're grateful. Well, except we all have a little more gratitude for Life, and health!

Soon to come: Cost efficiency analysis of water, vs life-flight-plus-night-in-ICU. :)

Remembrance

It has been a wild week. There's really not a way to make this into a funny, or moving story, but I want to write it down to remember anyways. So here goes...

Last Sunday (the 14th) the kids and I went to our niece's 2nd birthday. She was the one born a day before Baby. They are two now! Hubby stayed at home, still trying to get everything together to water our very dead, very dry pasture. We left the party around 4 pm, went shopping for a few groceries, then headed home. This must've been 5:00-5:30 or so. Hubby wasn't around the house, but I was busy getting napping kids out of carseats and groceries into the fridge, hanging out some laundry, etc, so I didn't have time to look for him at first. The kids asked about him, and I said I didn't know. Finally I stepped out onto the porch to have a look-see, and his truck was indeed gone from tits parking space.  However, it was parked just across the fence in the pasture, and he was walking across the lawn.
There you are," I said.

Hubby, working on The Hole in Spring. This is near the site he was working.

"What?" he replied. He looked quite hot and tired and was kindof short with his answers, so I went back into the house. I expected him to come in for a drink or a rest, but the next thing I saw, he was zipping back up the pasture in his truck.

Some time later I wondered how things were going, so I decided to call him. This was perhaps just after 7:00. I couldn't find my cell phone, so calld him with the house phone, but he didn't answer. This is not terribly unusual; the phone could be in his stuck and he might bhave stepped away for a time, or have his hands busy. I located my ocell phone, and called him again, and yet again, without answer. The last call was at 7:16. I decided I might walk up andcheck on things, and wondered if he had any waterwith him. I stepped out and looked in his work truck, and saw his big insulated thing there, so knew THAT wasn't with him. Nor was the water jug from the fridge, so I took it in hand, and told the girls I was going up to take water to Daddy. They said they would stay t the house. I walked up there, scanning for his shape, but didn't see any movement. I could see the truck, even earlier from the porch, but no movement. I got close, and saw him.

Face down, in the dirt and weeds.

I ran to him, and crouched down in front of him. It was a hot, sunny day, and his (recently shaved) head and arms were sweaty. "Are you okay?!?" I asked, and he made some sound. He had thrown up on himself, and in several places between him and the truck, which was maybe 10 feet away from him. I kept asking if he was hurt, or if he had been drinking, or what he ate. I instructed him that I would pour some water past his mouth so he could sip some or swish out his mouth, which he kindof tried to do.  I looked in the truck bed and saw a reciprocating saw, but it didn't seem to have been used yet. The door to the cab was open and there was an empty bag of Fritos on the seat, and some other things, but no water, no vodka bottles. :) I turned the key off to stop the loud Christian music that was blaring, and went back to him. By now the neighbor working just along the other side of our driveway could see there was a problem, so he appeared. By this time Hubby wasn't responding much, though we turned him to his side. He was not injured, and I had threatened to call 911 if he didn't tell me what was going on, or what had happened. He told me not to call. The neighbor told me to call. His wife brought a bowl of water and a cloth, and I washed the bits and dirt from his face and I called the 911 operator. Who I think was some dude just hanging out at home, and not at all like the "Rescue 911" show I remember watching.

Does Hubby look like a splat? I hope not; there were only so many shapes to choose from...

The First Responders (volunteers) showed up, with directing from the neighbor they found the gate, and drove into the pasture. After a time more people came, real live paramedics, the local firehouse's ambulance, I'm not sure what all. Among all the walking feet, I asked the neighbor if he could pick up Hubby's glasses which I'd seen on the ground between us and the pickup, but hadn't had a chance to get. Hubby wasn't responding to anyone, and they started an IV and took his blood pressure, which for him was quite low at 90/58. There was an oxygen mask on him at this point, and we'd strapped him to a stretcher. He started to heave again, and as I was sitting at his head, I moved the oxygen thing off his mouth and nose and grabbed the stretcher (as did everyone else) to turn him to his side so he wouldn't aspirate. After a few minutes of this, he was laid back flat and the mask replaced. Perhaps after this I moved out of the way, because I was more towards his legs/feet when they gave him epinephrin. Several people asked me if he was allergic to bees, and I was pretty certain he wasn't, but he seemed (to them) swollen about the face so they administered it through the IV. They cut his shirt off at some point too. I sent a text message to his mom (which she didn't see), and called the house to check on the girls (the calves were out, they couldn't get them back in, but a neighbor lady was around. I suggested getting a bit of grain to lure them, which she did, as well as drug them with the halter-rope).

A woman First Responder talked to me and answered my questions as things happened. I do not remember all of it, nor in the right order, but there was discussion among the people there, and the people on the radio about the dryness (fire hazard) of the field, and the bumpiness, and the inconvenient gate placement. When they decided they'd have to go through the fence at the nearest point, I asked if we couldn't just toss his carcass over or something..? We just *finally* finished that fence, after all! :] Someone on the radio asked if they "should send fire." The lady replied "yes." "Oh no, DON'T send fire," I joked (I suppose it could be weird to talk like that at such a time. I do the same thing in labor). She smiled and said, "oh, we have the local fire department prepare all our landing sites." I nodded, though I wasn't sure what this meant. They kept traffic away from the ambulance? 'Landing site' = 'staging area' perhaps?

Um, no.

'Landing site = landing site.' For the life flight helicopter. Discussion about the site, the field, the buildings, the small trees in the field... Mouth agape I asked, 'they're sending Life Flight???" Yes. "Because we have a fence??" Oh no. NOT because you have a fence...

Before or after this, a man addressed me and said "because he can't protect his own airway, we have to intubate him." Wow. I always thought that was for pretty severe cases, but I was in no position to argue it. I suppose they didn't want him puking into his lungs on the trip. :]

Life Flight landed alongside the driveway in the neighbor's clearing. The fire department had shown up and sprinkled a bit of water on the dry dustiness. It would not be enough. :)

They finally had him to the point they were ready to move him, and weren't sure how to get him to the helicopter. One of the first responders (the one who'd driven into the field - and left the gate open for the calves to escape. :) ) offered to load him into the back of his pickup, and they all agreed. He backed his pickup nearby and many of them climbed into the pickup with the stretcher. Thankfully they didn't *cut* our fence, but only un-clipped it from the t-posts and laid it on the ground. The truck drove over and they loaded him into the helicopter. At first I didn't want to walk by all the people standing where the ambulance and vehicles were, so I walked in the field for a short distance, watching to see when they would take off. Then I decided I had better go that way after all, for the fence would need put back up. The pilots gestured for me and another person or two to move back more, so I joined the people alongside the ambulance. But first I took a picture with my cell phone, because I knew he would never believe it...

The helicopter engine whined as it sped up. The dust from the area they were parked, and the driveway, was unbelievable. The setting sun was completely obscured. Before it was THAT bad though, I crouched down and put the hem of my dress over my nose and closed my eyes. I wish I had stayed that way, but there must have been a change in the dust, or the sound, or something, because I eased up on my improvised ventilator....

Oh. My. Gosh.

Next time I'm in the vicinity of a helicopter taking off from a gravel/dirt/dust pad, I'm running a whole lot farther a whole lot faster. After the dust came the rocks. It was like a sandstorm, a macro-dermabrasion, a sandblasting of amazing proportion. I dared not take a breath, but I was out of air. I shook my head and turned as much as I could away from the pelting, but was barely able to hold it long enough. Finally it stopped, and I pried my eyes open and carefully gasped for air. The neighbor next to me said, "I'd have offered you my straw hat, but I see you already have one." My hair was FULL of straw - dried bits of dead grass and weeds and seeds and DIRT and ROCKS. Wow. Truly this was almost more incredible than the whole experience with Hubby had been! A paramedic told me to go to the ER in Town to find my husband, but to do what I needed to beforehand, that there was no hurry. I (very ladylike) paused to spit out a mouthful of grit before responding. : \  This was about 8:00 or shortly after, I think.

By this time all four girls were under our nearest neighbor's willow trees, sitting as though it were all a grand show. A neighbor lady from further west was sitting with them (I believe she was the one to help with the calves), and the sweet lady who lives there was standing in her driveway wringing her hands and shaking her head (she is a wonderful neighbor, and loves us to pieces. She is not a believer though, and has a hard time with some things). I paused to talk to each neighbor in turn (as well as a girl with a baby on her hip.. I think she might be the daughter of the first neighbor who came to help me in the field), and gather up my girls. I told them Daddy was sick, but was being taken care of and we had to go to the hospital to see him and see how things were going.

We walked up the dusty drive, me spitting occasionally and trying to brush debris from my hair. Reaching down the back of my dress, I could pinch dirt and grit right off my skin. My underwear were gravelly. (!) At home I gave instructions and tried to think straight (get pajamas, change of clothes, Baby's quilt, Hubby's vitamins?). I brushed at my hair (which was pinned up kindof into a bun, mind you, but I carry a halo of fuzziness after working for any amount of time. Ugh), and changed my clothes - and the gritty panties.

We climbed into the van and I made a couple phone calls - I think I had called my folks from the house, asking them to pray, which they did immediately. I found Hubby's work phone in his work truck, and was able to access his contacts and call his boss and let him know Hubby would not be working in the morning. I called my mother in law, who answered without much excitement, and I knew she had not seen my text message. I told her I was headed to the ER, that they'd taken Hubby there because I found him face down in the field semi-responsive. It was slightly comedic, as she asked "his heart?!?" and I heard the echo from others in the room with her  "heart? heart attack?" I told her they didn't know yet, but hoped to find out soon. I told her we might be imposing on her, or would need perhaps somewhere to keep the kids, and she assured me that they "would be there." This was 8:45.

She was at the ER by the time I arrived - also my fatherinlaw, both sistersinlaw, at least one of their husbands, plus the little birthday girl, and a 7yo niece. The other's husband might have been there too; I know he was there later, but I didn't see him at first, or I don't remember it. Hubby's folks and I went in while the aunts/uncles/cousins and my girls stayed outdoors. The sun had set by now (9pm or shortly after).

Sunset from my home, June 2010

Hubby was tied to a bed, had the endo-tracheal tube hooked to a ventilator, an OG tube pumping his stomach, a catheter, and IVs in both arms. They had him sedated, were doing more bloodwork, and took him for a while for a CT scan. They said he seemed to be less swollen than even he was at arrival, so was responding to the epinephrin. LOTS more questions and information, and a bag full of sliced-and-diced underwear and shorts. :] Plus his wallet and cell phone. They left his shirt in the back of his pickup.

I will end here for now, because I've been working on this nearly a week, and won't have it done EVER at this rate. I will add that Hubby is doing well, and though there are things we still have to follow up with, he's home and functioning fine at this point.

Dangerous Weekend 2

A week after Hubby sliced his hand and had to be sewn back together, we were running late for church. That is not the dangerous part, for that happens all the time. We have been picking up a couple young teens in our town from a very un-churched family, so we rushed out the door.

I believe I had taken my shower that morning, instead of the night before, which put me even further behind. I discovered the kids had only eaten applesauce (from Gigi's house, and full of corn syrup. Yuck!), and knew that wouldn't hold them through church. I think I dished up some cottage cheese (protein!) for the milk-tolerant, and set some quinoa on the stove to simmer up quickly for Li'l Artist. In the hustle and bustle, I never served her the quinoa.

In fact, I didn't think about it until an hour later we were sitting waiting for church to get started, and the kids were a little wild. I considered what they had eaten, and the thought of applesauce led me to the other breakfasts... I hadn't served Little Artist. Apparently a horrified look fell upon my face, and I hurried to the back where Hubby was sipping coffee to ask if he had done anything with the quinoa. He had not. "I don't think I took it off the stove..." I said. 

Breaking speed laws, we are at least 20 minutes away from church. Hubby said I should call our neighbor (who is retired, lives alone, and had been sick). I did so, but could only leave a message. I told him, "this is already an emergency." He suggested I call another neighbor who lives 3/4 of a mile away, an organic gardener who I'm friends with, and he took the van and hurried in the direction of home.

I must say, what follows is kindof humorous in hindsight. This dear woman has been *in* our house only once. It was December 26, 2009. The 10 days or so prior to that had me madly sewing/knitting/whatever for gifts, then a few days spent at Gigi's, then back home to cook/bake like crazy, both for our home, for the Christmas Eve goodies, and the holiday meal, both at my inlaws, and the house, post Christmas, literally looked like a bomb had gone off. There was NO WHERE to sit; not a single surface that wasn't a complete disaster, and you could barely walk between the boxes and bags of christmas gifts/things hauled to and from festivities/kid mess/coats/boots/laundry/etc. I was exhausted and in fact hadn't even gotten out of bed by the time she and her husband stopped at our house that morning. Mortification is too mild a word.

Last year of course, I was moderately ready for a visit (i.e. there was at least a place to sit), but not surprisingly, they did not come. :)

So, I considered calling this lady, knowing full well that Sundays were only slightly better, generally speaking, than the-day-after-Christmas in our house. Saturdays I often try to get 'projects' done - sewing, or organizing something, an outdoor job if it's pleasant, but the kids tend to slide on their chores, and I tend to slide on enforcement, so the house was - again - not guest ready, by any means.

So I considered... call Mrs. S. to save the house, knowing she'll walk through and SEE it, or just let the house burn down altogether...?  Oh my. You know you need to step up the housekeeping if THAT'S how you weigh such a problem.

As Hubby hit the road to go home, I called Mrs. S. to ask if she could go see if my house was burning down. I did not advise her as to where to find the scrapbooks; if it was afire I would be spared the embarrassment of AGAIN having her in unexpectedly.

She called back before Hubby had made it home, saying things were 'fine' (i.e. the house was still standing), though the quinoa was quite burnt, and the house was filled with smoke (she opened a window). She placed the pan in the sink and turned off the burner, and left. 

I haven't used the pan again, though it's my best little oatmeal pan. I fear ruining anything I try to cook in it, but I haven't relegated it to the feed sacks either. 

I am grateful, for my scrapbooks' sake, that she did not just close the door after one glance, and let the place burn... :)



(Truly, I AM so thankful to God that He brought this to mind before we could do nothing about it! One minor careless act could've cost us so very much, and we are SO grateful for His grace..)

Dangerous Weekend

Weekends have been a little troublesome for us.  We're not the only ones, and I'm sure for most people it's not limited to weekends (in our small church, we have a young mom completely laid up after back surgery to remove big bone fragments that came loose and attacked her spinal nerves after a bout of strenuous exercise [that's what you get for exercising, right?], a grandma [the one taking care of the mom] with a broken toe, a businesswoman with a broken foot.. Lest this seem minor, this probably constitutes 20% of our regular attendees).

A few weeks ago Hubby was changing out a doorknob, and instead of getting the proper hammer and chisel, he tried to carve out room for the new latchplate with his leatherman.

He slipped.

He sliced his palm about 3 1/2" long, up to a quarter inch deep (I thank God his skin is tough and leathery, else it might've been so much worse), right along one of the creases of his hand.

This photo was taken with my crummy camera, text-messaged to my sisterinlaw, who emailed it back to me. Forgive the travel-weary state:

It became our first-ever actual ER visit in the nearly-11 years we've been married. It was a busy Saturday night there, and I was surprised at the number of little babies in carriers that were waiting for treatment.

He cut himself sometime around 7, and I didn't know it until I came out from sewing to see what his earlier groaning and muttering was about. He had his grubby hand wrapped around a paper towel. He showed it to me, and I gasped, then followed up with, "really? Really? What are you thinkin' man? Maybe we should WASH that a little bit?" Said with a partial smile. We went downstairs and did a little first-aid and considered our options. We were on the fence regarding the necessity of further treatment, so called various people for second opinions. My dad encouraged us not to risk a workin'-man's hands, and to get it stitched up. With a sigh I took the pot of reheating soup from the stove, and made a call to my inlaws who agreed to watch the kids. The kids were told to each grab their pajamas and to get into the van. My motherinlaw offered to inspect the wound to give her opinion, but I was pretty sure if *I* was on the fence regarding an ER visit, she'd be completely convinced it was necessary. :) I was right, and after dropping the girls, we went to the hospital. We got out around 11pm, and used a drive-thru Walgreen's to pick up Vicodin at midnight. Weird.

Ten days later we had my motherinlaw (she's a nurse) begin to remove the sutures per the instructions of the PA that did the job. The wound was not healing right, in fact the more stitches she removed, the more it kindof gaped open, so she stopped halfway, and I spent the last little bit of savings on yet more bandages and wrap tape. :) The good news is that it HAS healed, if not the way it was first intended. His tough, calloused skin went together under the PA's needle, but shifted after that, and while the gash didn't close itself, it did heal inside the walls of itself.

What do you suppose a palm-reader would make of him now? "Things will be cut short." "You have a split personality." "I'm unable to read this language." :)

Truly, we thank God for healing, and for available medical care to tend to it.

Spring Signs

Well, I can't leave that last depressing post at the top. I'm hoping it is/was hormones, winter blues, kids cooped up for months...

Today Little Artist headed out to the van to search for her $3 used roller blades, but burst right back into the house.

"[Big Sister]! I hear the tweeting of summer birds!"

Big Sister hurried out with her and confirmed the song of the meadowlark has returned to us. Truly, that song is such a welcome gift, whether March or August. And so too is the excitement with which my six-year-old announces such a thing. :)

At six, I certainly wasn't tuned into the signs of the seasons like that. I'm grateful that my girls *are*. :)

Boo Hiss

Well, I'm back.   Or, more precisely, my computer is back. I still love it, but I'm less in love with the People Behind It than I was before.

Last year I got a MacBook.  And I can't tell you how excited I am to be using it now, 10.5 months later, and it still WORKS! That never happened with most computers I've owned.

However, there's a line on the screen that is lighter than the surrounding area, mostly noticeable when watching a movie or with other dark-screen things.  I hauled it with me to an Apple Store when I visited Gigi a bit ago, to get their advice.  I had to have an appointment with a Genius, and he ascertained that I needed a new screen, which he could fix. Because it was still within the first year of ownership, it would not cost me anything. However, to have him fix it, I would have to leave the computer with him for a few days, plus make a backup of all my data beforehand.  Well, I was leaving town that evening, and couldn't just run to and fro for such a thing (besides not having an external hard drive, etc), so he advised me to call Apple Care, get a special box shipped to me, ship my computer to them after making my backup, and on and on. I jumped through these hoops, and send my laptop to them last Monday.

I received a call yesterday, "Leah" informing me that the screen replacement is NOT covered, that their technician decided the computer was mistreated somehow, therefore it would cost me.

Seven hundred, seventy-five dollars.

Are. You. Flippin'. Kidding. Me?!??!?

Um, thanks but no thanks.  Send it back please.

Which they did.

I called the store to find out why the disparity between decisions, and apparently that's just how it works. If the store decides there is no additional damage between their last assessment and this one, they will still fix it.

If I get it to them.

If I reserve a big block of 'genius' appointments so they can do it on-site.

If they have the right part in stock.

If, if, if.

Quite frankly, I'm a little bothered.  I lived five days without my computer, certainly subjecting it to temperature shifts and road vibration and who-knows-what.  I shopped for an external hard drive (which I probably should have done anyway, but wouldn't have). I even re-visited Gigi in the interim, wherein I could have done the now- recommended option.  Making another trip (or even two, if the repair is delayed) will not be exactly cheap, or easy.  I don't think any of those Mac Geniuses have been in a room with four children, let alone spent 4 hours round-trip with them in an enclosed van.  Do you think they can operate carseats with the same skill with which they operate Mac OSX?

IF I show up, and the've changed their minds, I might just make a scene.  Or, alternatively, let my children loose in their store for 5 minutes... :]

Another Treasure

Don't worry.  I still LOVE my kindle. :)  I use it every day pretty much, whether for school or my own self, and I'm not likely to slow down on that much.

But I got something for my birthday that is just about as nifty. I decided an ipod would be really fantastic.  I coveted my friend's ipod Touch a while back (don't worry; I repented), amazed at the way the screen would turn with the ipod if you wanted to read tall or wide, impressed with the touchscreen and smoothly slowing scrolling down the page.  It could access internet for heaven's sake.  I barely knew what else it was for.

But nifty screens and internet wouldn't really enrich my life for the long run, so I did research.  I'm still no expert, but it turns out that there are quite an assortment of ipods and generations of ipods out there. My niece got a tiny ipod nano for Christmas, which is about a 1.5-inch touchscreen, but holds a relatively small amount of memory. I saw photos online of the new ipod shuffle (also smaller memory, no screen and no programming - just shuffling).  In real life the thing is TINY!  Like postage-stamp tiny!    The Touch started at 8 GB of memory, but also at $230.  The classic sure offered a lot more memory (the new 7th generation ipods start at 160 GB!  What are they putting on those, anyways? All 20th century film and music?), but the same out-of-range pricetag.  I started watching ebay for auctions (and my, there are SO many!) and gathering info on the older ipods.  Then I lost a whole lot of auctions. :)  I got serious finally, and bought a just-right 30 GB ipod classic, Generation Five, in white (matches my computer even, but not my kindle). For a much more reasonable price.

It came from Maryland. A gangster in Maryland named Jeff, apparently, based on the contents of the ipod.  I sew aprons and homeschool, and I didn't know who Li'l Wayne was. Jay Z? I recognized some of the names from when I was in school (Notorious B.I.G.  R.E.M. Green Day Beastie Boys), but seriously?  This is music?!?  I scrolled through approximately 3 seconds each of 67 songs (thought that might've been the contents, but was only one playlist) and were I Catholic I'd have had to attend Confession straightaway.  Yikes!  I'm not Catholic though, so I prayed for Jeff's salvation instead.  I admit, while cleaning the kitchen, I did rock out to Michael Jackson's Thriller (well, inasmuch as one can rock out in an apron and slippers).

Then the true Redemption occurred.  I plugged in the ipod, renamed it "Mama's Ipod"** and trashed all 2400+ gangster rapper songs AND the Family Guy episode and whatever movie(s) Dave Chaparelle or Chapelle had.  This was the "Dead to Sin" part.  After that I uploaded some podcast preachin', some homeschool convention lectures, some worship music... A splash of holy water and a dab of anointing oil later, and we managed "Alive to Christ!"  [I hope I'm not blasphemin' here.  No disrespect intended.]

Seriously though, I am LOVING this. And the iTunes store? Wow. I don't know if they sell music (okay, I'm sure they do), but the podcast stuff is amazing.

I can attend Voddie Baucham's Family Conference (or whatever it was) while I scrub the toilets!  I can listen to House of Bread, preaching my Dad is ALWAYS telling me to listen to (it's great, truly) in the van on the way to errands.  If the kids aren't with me, I can listen to The Ramp sermons (are they sermons?  They're pretty excited, and southern) my cousin told me about while I do my shopping!  I can re-hear homeschool convention speakers, which is nice since I spent the live-version juggling a baby and a toddler and didn't exactly take notes.  I. have. even. managed. to. put. my. workout. on. there.  I know, anyone who has been part of this century lately knows all this already, but remember: I kill chickens every June.  This is big.  Truly, the workout plays right there on the little screen, though I can't flail my arms about when there are wires between my ears and an upright ipod, and I can't see the screen when the thing's tucked into the back of my britches, so...  As far as I know, I can't get just the audio track without (horror of horrors) spending money on a program to do that, but I would if I could (do it for free).

It really has enriched my life.  It's hard to yell very loudly at your naughty child when Julie True is crooning some beautiful Jesus-worship in your ear (sometimes I have to go mono, see, for the sake of parenting and all that).  Hearing some church, when I'm not simultaneously counting and locating my children (or if I DO have to do that, I can use pause and rewind!) keeps me focused on God more than I was before.  Prayer is up, too.  Perspective freshened.

I have an anti-progress bias in some areas (organic farming, in some ways), but this kind of technology can help increase Kingdom in the world.  In my house, at least. :)  I am grateful for this blessing, and I'm so glad to have such a meaningful birthday gift!





**Truth be told I call it "Granny."  If the 7th generation was just born, and this is the 5th generation, it is a grandparent, is it not?  And I think it's a girl, so Granny it is..

33

It was a good year for Jesus.  He fulfilled his destiny, changed the world forever, conquered sin and death...

I'm not exactly aspiring to all that (maybe I should be...?), but trying to walk where my Father leads.  Trying to let Him love me (which will fulfill an element of my destiny).

Today there is a mountain of laundry, and bay leaves (?) crumbled on a bathroom floor.  Considering last year's gift was a little more dramatic, I'm counting this as serious progress. :)

I get to have lunch with a friend/cousin, and facebook is overflowing with birthday wishes.  If I play my cards right, I might even manage a discount on some eggs... :)

Thank you Lord, for life.

Textus Impossibus

Are you a text-er?  Do you text message others?  Do you know how hard it is for me to write those sentences, using nouns as verbs?  How about, Are you a sender of texts?  Do you send text messages to others?  Ah, that's better.  But it only gets worse from here.

I've recently started sending and receiving text messages. Like facebook and blogging, I like the ease with which it connects me to others.  I like sending a text message to my farmer, asking him "where's the beef?" and hearing that he will call the butcher shortly.  Or asking my motherinlaw exactly which April date is my niece's birthday, so I can mark it on the calendar.

I've sent and received text messages before, but only under duress. :)  That is, if I was "roaming" and the text was cheaper than the call.  My extended family of in-laws uses text messaging quite a bit, and I've been bummed to be the last person to find out that a close friend (who is also a relative) had her baby, or other "news" that I missed out on because I was "out of the loop."  This is my own fault, mind you; I've grumbled before, receiving a "you are the best mother to your child/children" award, knowing it cost me 15¢.  Really?  If I'm so worthy, why don't you know whether I have one or more offspring? :D  I still don't know who sent that to me, or how many of us mothers it was sent to, but it still cracks me up.

So, I've now added a whopping $5 to my cell phone bill, and for that I can send and/or receive 250 text messages per month.  Which solves the problem of knowing when someone important is in labor, but has brought up a whole other issue.

can u guess what it is
i cant wait 2 tell u
ready? its sumthin that drives me crazy @ txting

Aaaaaaaauuughhhh!

I always thought I was a numbers girl, you know?  Memorizing my bank account numbers, and even my Power Company account number.  But I find that in my old age, I'm getting a little wordy, too (hmm, maybe that's why I have a blog?).  I've been reading poorly-written Christian fiction on my kindle (they were free.  Good thing.) and critiquing them to no end, astonished at the incorrect labeling for real-life things, or the unlikely conversations/plot twists/whatever.  And clichés?  Gag me with a spoon.  Anyways.  About words.  Using text messages is supposed to (I hear) save time and effort, doing away with the pleasantries necessary in a voice conversation, and get your questions answered and details ironed out without interrupting anyone's day.  Much.

But here's the thing.  I happen to believe punctuation is handy, and purposeful!  So I type my text message with appropriate apostrophes, commas, capitals, periods, etc.  I write out "to" and "you" and other things, because I just cannot bring myself to write such purposeful mistakes. Errors, they would be.  BUT - My text messages need to be 160 characters or less, else they become two text messages.  And I'm nothing if not frugal.  So I end up with a problem.. I type out my nice little text message, and realize it's going to be too long.  So I have to back up and use smaller adjectives and fewer qualifiers, or whatever.  If that's not enough, then I have to make errors, changing "to" to "2" and "you to "u" and worse.  It's excruciating.

By the time I'm done writing, rewriting, and un-proofing, I've spent eight minutes on something that would've taken one, had I just dialed the daggum number in the first place!

So - do you send and receive text messages?  Do you use the abbreviated misspellings?  Does it bother you?  Will I ever get comfortable using such things?




**I do not want to be understood as condemning the use of misspelled words in text messages.  It just bothers me to do it.  Like someone who just can't handle clutter on their countertop and constantly cleans it off (gee, now THAT would be a useful neurosis!). :)

S'no Problem!

A few weeks back, just before Thanksgiving, it snowed.  It was a nice snow, a warm, snowball-making snow.  Then it snowed some more, colder, powdery.

About 8 inches total on the ground.

And then it got windy, very early on a Sunday.  It buffeted the outside of the wall where my head lies at night.  It howled, and the house groaned.  I did too, a bit.  Later Hubby tried to go to church, but he only got about 200 feet from the house.   Soon it looked like this:

From the living room window.  The driveway goes between the motor home and the power meter.

Yes, this is what eight inches and a breeze does to us.  Okay, a 45 mph breeze.

And Hubby put his little truck in four-wheel mode and went into the pasture, just to make me jealous.  And bring back groceries.  He did the same with his big work truck.

 The backyard gets some interesting wind-effects in the drifts.  As I write this, most of the backyard and all the neighboring fields are free of snow, but we are still able to walk across the top of the fence at this point.

The backyard, snow blowing across a peak.

This was taken another day, the wind was gone, the sky was clear and bright.  And my driveway is somewhere down there!  It starts at the lower right of the photo, then follows diagonally towards the upper left.  At the telephone pole way out there (not the one with the transformer in the middle of the photo), the driveway veers left, then right, before going out to the road.

From upstairs

Ah, now where are my snowshoes??

Snowed in February 2008. <-- Back when I actually would step out of the house to take a photo...

Doings

My goodness, 'tis the season, is it not?  I have been busy with things I can't write about, because as soon as I do, some lurking relative will come back and read about something they shouldn't! :)  Time has been spent in the kitchen and the sewing room, with a little knitting thrown in here and there.   I can tell you:

I just tonight finished putting the binding (poorly) on a quilt for Baby.  And I will tell you that I should have done it when she was born, as I promised her, because she was not able to come up and push all the buttons to change the stitches mid-seam, or turn the whole thing off in the middle of a decorative stitch, or cause other mayhem and chaos to the project.  At least it's hers, and I can blame it all on her.  Even my mistakes, perhaps. :)

I used some velvet-y, deep red 'crushed panné' fabric to make a twirly, long-sleeved dress for Organique.  I think she'll love it.

I don't have any good ideas for a sewn project for Little Artist.  This is bothering me.

I plan to make Big Sister an apron, but haven't yet.  I also plan to make slippers for each girl, and have traced their feet.  I'm not sure if it will work; the closest way I know to do such a thing is from the little baby slipper tutorials I've seen online.  I'm hoping I can adjust those to work...?

Big Sister has a Christmas wishlist as long as my arm (things like a swan princess movie, a bb gun, and roller skates), but the only thing from it I've 'granted' so far is a mixing bowl.  Little Artist wants a Polly Pocket thing like her sister's (Big Sister received a toy that came with four little dogs, leashes, bowls, and sixteen (!) little doggie shoes. And has managed to keep track of most of it.).  I'm disinclined to buy junk from China, but there are not many other options.  We got a family-style game, and some stocking stuffers.  I'm hoping for time next week to make homemade peanut butter cups and mint patties. :)  I've been making marshmallows this week, some Little Artist can eat, and currently have a marshmallow downstairs waiting to be used in a recipe.  The marshmallow is about 2.25 lbs!  And sits in the bottom of my soup pot. :)

I am thrilled to make a trip to Gi-gi's soon, where I will be able to see my brother and his wife and daughter.  We haven't seen them since last year, I think, and that's terrible!  At least to me!  :)  Also, a lifelong friend and her husband are visiting her parents in the area this month, and she hasn't been back for 2 years.  She has lived on 3 continents and four countries (not counting this one) and it's fascinating to compare how divergent our lives have become.  Yet how wonderful and easy to come back together and share such history.  If her brother can be in attendance, it will truly be like old times (but with older versions of ourselves!).

I will post again soon, with pictures of the snow that kept me homebound for 9 days!

Lost And Found

You may remember that Big Sister got a hamster for her 9th birthday.

Or maybe I didn't write that post.

Let's back up a bit...  Big Sister turned 9 on the 6th of September.  She had been asking for some time for a pet hamster.  After some thought and prayer, we decided to grant her birthday wish.  I purchased the beast critter and a 'starter kit' - cage, feed, water bottle, etc - while in Town one evening for my regular errands.  A good friend agreed to critter-sit for a few days, and bring the little guy when she came for the party. Big Sister was thrilled, and she kept very good care of him, remembering to say a special 'good night' to him every evening before bed.  She named him Nutmeg.

Nine days later, my mom and her kids came for a visit.  They arrived shortly before bedtime, and the first thing Big Sister did was let the kids hold Nutmeg.  Then it was off to bed.  The 4-year-old boy, who, like Organique, almost never does as he is told, instead re-visited the hamster.  And left the cage open.  My mom saw some of what he did, I guess, but it didn't register, and so it wasn't until the morning, when Nutmeg was sought, that the gaping door of the cage was discovered.  The boy explained that a tiger had captured Nutmeg, and ate him outside.  While I was fairly certain that didn't happen, I was some worried that he'd fed him to the cat.

Many tears and prayers were offered on Nutmeg's behalf.  Before my mom left five days later, he'd been spotted in the kitchen.  She and Hubby tried to capture him, but he resisted strongly and they failed.  I used a canning jar and lid to fashion a trap (use a large knife to cut a * shape in the lid, bending the sharp points inward), but I left him too much room and he absconded with the bait (his feed) leaving little bits of hair on the pointy parts of the lid.

Hubby bought a live mouse trap, and we set that.  We also bought some dead mouse traps, because we were interested in ridding the house of the annual fall invasion.  We did NOT set those out, fearing the worst would happen to Nutmeg if we did.

Weeks passed and I was certain Nutmeg was gone.  We'd had (and lost) many hamsters over the years when I was young, and the longest any had gone missing (and turned up alive) was a week and a half or so.  I was upset that Big Sister had lost him so unjustly, and sad to hear her ask about him daily.

Then one morning Hubby reported seeing him!  He was back where his cage had been (on the pellet stove) and was trying to chew into the bag of feed.  When Hubby tried to catch him, he jumped into the lower shelves of the changing table and was gone.  We moved the traps, but still nothing for days.

Eventually he showed up again in the kitchen.  I began to wonder, should I be encouraged by the fact that Nutmeg had survived so long unattended, or completely depressed that my house has enough crumbs and debris to sustain life for such a creature.  I'm still really not sure...  I decided that our 'traps' weren't enough, and googled hamster-trapping ideas.  I set up some ramps/buckets/bait systems, using a gallon jar, a glass cookie jar, and a rubbermaid tote.  I mixed up peanut butter, oats, and raisins.  For a few days, nothing.  My dad recalled our finding a hamster (dead) inside a quart mason jar below the sink; he had fallen in and couldn't get out, and we didn't find him in time.  I began to think about lining up all my quart mason jars in a group in the kitchen, making several ramps, and putting bait everywhere, hoping he'd fall in among the sea of jars. :)  In the meantime, I knew he (or a mouse) was using the ramps.  I'd put one flake of peanut-buttery oatmeal at the top of each ramp, and each morning that was gone.  Since he was used to the system, I began thinking I needed something better than his inclination to 'jump' into the jar/bucket.  I decided on some thin cardboard (cut from a ziploc box or such), like a diving board or pirate-plank.  I attached a small strip of cardboard to the top few inches of ramp, and bent it slightly so it extended horizontally over the jar (secured VERY lightly with some double-sided tape at the bend of the cardboard).  I put my regular bit of bait on the ramp, and then more (balanced carefully!) on the plank.  The first night one trap was sprung (or it fell in on it's own weight) but there was no hamster.  The second night, he was captured!  And he was NOT pleased (nor was I, to see what he'd done to my cookie/kombucha jar).

That was a week or two ago, and I'm glad to say he has seemed to re-civilize.  He has not escaped (i.e. 'been turned loose') again, and I hope to keep it that way.  Big Sister is delighted, and I'm happy to have caught a few of the uninvited interlopers.  Not with the live trap.  :)