there is a pear tree

This house came with a pear tree. 

https://www.feastingonfruit.com/ginger-molasses-cookies/

Loquats

If you don't live in the south, you might not know that word.
Then again, you might have lived here your entire life- like I have - and still not know that word.
I ate my first loquat two weeks ago.
I had my first loquat cake the same day.
I had my first loquat jam the next day, when I made my first loquat jam. I will be making more loquat jam, I assure you.
Loquats, also known as Japanese plums, are free food, y'all. These yummy orange plums grow on the easements of the roads throughout the city of Houston. They grow in yards, and people ignore them, which I think is a sinful waste, let me tell ya. We need to be thanking God for the stuff He hands to us without us working too hard.

I used a recipe I found off the internet. I was surprised at how many popped up when I searched.
I used Pectin, but I won't next time. Loquats have plenty of pectin in the them.  Do yourself a favor; if you make loquat jam, add cardamom. Trust me.

spring shearing Ba-aAA!!

First step in shearing is to bring sheep close to the sheering area, keeping them comfortable and content and safe. We used the portable electric fence to move them from the pasture to the area behind our back patio, where the shearing professionals whom we hired can use outlets for their electric clippers and hold each sheep safely from flock while shearing the wool.

who is that grown man in my back yard?! (it's my little boy home from college on spring break. :o ) 

Little Dido wasn't sure what to make of all the commotion. But she loves belly rubs enough to not ask many questions.

I leave the 140 pound lamb wrestling to the experts.

The wee lambs will wait until June to have their wool sheared. They don't have enough skin protecting lanolin under yet, nor is their skin thick enough to protect them from the sun if they lose their wool. Besides, we'll have more, thicker wool if we wait a bit.

Cici was not sheared when she was a lamb, so she had an extra heavy coat from this, her first time. She quickly surrendered to the experience.

Even the ram was compliant. 

before and after

The wool of each sheep is kept separately wrapped in sheets until Harmony can get to it to clean, card, and make ready for felting or yarn making. 

With the removal of the wool, is also the removing of the lanolin the sheep makes to keep her wool water resilient. This lanolin is a rich emollient; I would love to extract it from the wool for hand cream and other skin products. Cici's wool is especially rich in lanolin, so perhaps I can preserve some of it when the wool is washed. 

The scent of the lanolin varies from sheep to sheep. It's not a difference we humans can detect, but each lamb knows his or her mama from not only the sound of her call, but by her distinct smell of her lanolin-- the distinct smell we just had sheared off!! 

It was sadly amusing to see each lamb call for her mother, the mother respond, and watch as the poor lambs slowly found his mother by calling out, listening, calling again, roaming, and then quickly running to the sheep who responded with the right distinct "ba--aa" to which he was most familiar.

Dido was a different story. It was sadder, which- and I'm almost embarrassed to say- made it even more amusing. She wondered aimlessly crying out with a questioning "ba-a?" To which her mother looked up and responded, "Ba-aa-aa." Again, Dido asked to the open field before her, "ba-a?" To which, again, with more gusto, her mother responded, "Ba-aa-A!".
Poor Dido tried again, looking around, "ba-a??" Cici stepped forward, and almost militantly resounded, "BA-A-AA!!" And poor Dido asked one more time, "ba-a?" By this time Cici the young mother simply mumbled, "ba-a-a-a-a" while biting and chewing and swallowing the green grass before her. Eventually, Dido heard her mother's distinct grumbling. Or perhaps, by default she simply chose the sheep mama without a baby. Either way, mother and daughter were soon reunited and Dido was able to wash down her grassy meal with her own mother's milk.

lambing in the winter

Meet the twin boys. Born January 31st, 2019

These little guys were expected. Their momma, Cherry, is mother to our Cici born last winter. She was clearly carrying more than one lamb, and we anxiously awaited their birth. Cherry, an experienced mother, didn't need any help her babies to feed and walk. They were bouncing around within minutes. One little guy needed a little extra cleaning, but other than that, no human intervention was necessary or offered.

They were out and about within twenty-four hours.

This little girl is another story.

February 11th, while Harmony was getting into bed after midnight, she heard our one-year-old Cici crying out from the barn. Checking on her, she found a hungry wee lamb in the corner of the barn, and a confused Momma Cici wandering loudly about. I received a text from the barn requesting back up. After sizing up the situation, which included one young inexperienced sheep mother and a little smaller than average baby girl who couldn't find milk, I went to the kitchen and made a bottle of colostrum. Yes, we actually had lamb colostrum in our pantry. The next couple of hours included a few ounces of bottle milk, as well as a forced nursing session with the mama. It also included me catching a confused, tired, and very strong sheep and holding her still while my daughter cut away excess wool from around the udders so our new lamb could reach her tiny mouth around the milk supply. What you see here are photos of happy healthy lambs and their content mothers. What you don't see are photos of me in my flannel pajamas grabbing hold of a frightened 130 pound ewe and holding her while someone comes at her underside with scissors. Nor will you see photos of that same 130 pound ewe butting me in the ribs, just enough to let me know she was not happy being held. (I am forever thankful that this particular ewe knows and likes me and was merely letting me know she was not comfortable; therefore I have no broken ribs)

After making the milk more accessible, Harmony was able to hold Cici still enough my little man to hold the lamb and direct her to her mama's milk. The shepherds made this a daily practice throughout the following week or so,  until our little Dido learned to nurse on her own.
For a few feedings a day, while Harmony the shepherdess was at school, the younger children would take a bottle of milk to the pasture to feed Dido the lamb. She knew them by sight, and the bottle by smell and would run to meet them. Their job was to try to feed her close to her mother's side so that each sheep would get the idea that feeding is related to the mama. In the morning before school, and in the evening after, Harmony would hold Cici still for Dido to nurse. After a few weeks of this, mamm and lamb finally found their own routine and neither bottle nor ewe catching was necessary.

A well established nursing routine after a week.

proud papa, scratching his itch

Meet Banana. (we didn't name her; she came with the name) This is her leggy son born without any aid needed. This is a blessing because Banana lets no human get near her, unless the human has alfalfa or clover in his hand. Any attempted nursing help with this ewe would definitely resulted in a broken rib for this human.

Uncle and niece, half brother/sister... animal husbandry; probably better not to ask

Now it's simply a matter of time, watching the lambs grow.
A word to the wise: don't get attached to the young rams.

hopeful romantic

Oxford dictionary defines romance as: a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love, [and] a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life. 
Wiki defines it as, well, never mind. Wiki is wrong. 

"remoteness from everyday life." yes. that's it. 

Nothing in that definition is exclusive to a relationship of two people who are married/dating/lovers. In fact, nothing in that definition excludes a person who is alone. One of my most romantic moments was in fact shared with no one. I was Rome in 2011. My mother had recently passed on, allowing for this trip. I was caught between mourning and joy, standing in the Eternal City. It was summer, and it was hot. The water was cool and inviting. For a few moments, it was just me, the water, and my creator. I was surrounded by people- mostly strangers- and the photo capturing the moment was taken by someone I knew. My three-month-old baby was nearby in a stroller. But the feelings that swelled up in me and glued me to that spot, celebrating that moment was all mine. It was indeed romantic.

My favorite scene in the movie 'The Father of the Bride' is a discussion between Spencer Tracy and his soon to be son-in-law. The bride, played by Elizabeth Taylor, had come to her father in tears, ready to call off her wedding because her fiance' bought her a blender for a wedding present. How could he be thoughtless, buying a kitchen appliance for her for a wedding present? How romantic is that?! Then there is that moment went the dejected young groom-to -be explains in an almost panic that he bought that blender thinking of how much she likes smoothies. He wanted her to always have what she wanted, and he wanted to be the one to provide it. Suddenly, a blender looked like the most romantic gift he could have considered. 'An excitement associated with love.'

The most romantic thing anyone ever did for me was line the floor of a shower room of a garage with brown paper, so that I could shower in an auto garage and still feel like a lady. I was rushed after two trips to the emergency room with two different children, a photo shoot, and being the only witness for a bride in a convalidation ceremony. I had no time to get home to clean up, and my dear friend made the best of a difficult situation without me asking. He had in the past made me feel loved, and shown his romantic side on many occasions, but that simple layer of brown paper covering every surface of the shower room made me feel like a princess.

When a good person  loves you, he will take time to listen to you. He will focus on your face and your words as you speak, and you will feel safe.
It becomes romantic when he stops what he is doing- what he is engrossed in- puts his tools down, looks you in the eye and either with his eyes or his words tell you that nothing else can come to his mind except what you are saying.  
A loving friend will say, "come over when you are finished with your errands and we'll have coffee and catch up." 
It becomes romantic when you arrive to find that she has drawn a bubble bath for you in her oversized tub, has surrounded the tub with candles and poured wine waiting for you, and says, "the next hour is all yours to be alone. I'll watch your kids." 
Loving a child can mean spending your lunch hour with her, listening to her talk about her latest playground escapade, or her first break-up. It becomes romance when you turn off your cell phone, pour her drink into a wine glass, and be sure to have her favorite cup-cake for desert. You lean in and focus on her eyes while she talks. She feels the mystery of a mother's (or a father's) love that isn't the everyday feeling she gets she you wash her laundry.


We all need romance. Those who are married, those who are single and celibate, and yes, even priests and religious need romance. Some of the most romantic people I have ever met were priests and nuns! When love is elevated to "out of the ordinary", anyone can feel the mystery of excitement of that love and it becomes romance. G*d created romance, so why would He keep it from any of His beloved, reserving it only for couples? "Thy lips are as a scarlet lace; and they speech sweet. They cheeks are as a piece of a pomegranate, besides that which lieth hid within. .... Thy lips, my spouse, are as a dropping honeycomb, honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments, as the smell of frankincense." [Solomon's Canticle of Canticles,4:3,11] No one could argue the romance and yes, eros! that fills the pages of this book of the Old Testament.  It's no wonder that so many of the saints would go into what was called an "ecstasy" when praying! There is praying.. and there is romantic praying. I worship a very romantic God. 


Although in the past I have loathed the coming of Valentine's day, thinking of it as merely "singles awareness day" and thinking about the romance not in my life, this year, I am filled with a mystery of the love that I have been blessed with from my Lord, my friends, and my family.
I have learned that having romance in my life is up to me. It's my responsibility to seek it out, to even create it for myself and for my children, and to recognize it in the beauty of creation that surrounds me. It is up to me to pull out moments in an otherwise mundane day and with G*d's grace, seek a feeling of excitement and share that with the people around me, whether it means getting out the good china to serve the peanut butter sandwich to my daughter, or dropping everything and inviting my son to sit in the large patch of clover in the yard to hear about his day. 

Maybe this is why I'm truly happy and can say I like who I am for the first time in my life.
 

getting cultured

In our attempts to be healthier, we're using culture. Okay, technically, it's "cultures". 
A friend gave us a SCOBY, which stands for "symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast". Don't be too impressed; I had to look that up for this post. 
My daughter started our Kombucha months ago. I took photos. Then I got busy with life. 

Recently because she is now a full time student, and remains a shepherdess as well as the other adult in the house, I took over the kombucha making. This means nothing is done on schedule anymore. While she took a notebook of dates, measurements, comments, etc... I look at the tea in the fermenting jars and ask, "When did I start this jar? Is it time for second fermentation with fruit? I need to buy tea....."  Then I forget about it another day. 
Regardless, the kombucha is still turning out with good flavor and a probiotic taste and feeling. It doesn't have the 'fizz' I like, but it's still kombucha, and my children enjoy it. 

Without a stove, however, brewing tea has been put off too long though. Today I am brewing a quart at a time in a glass container in the microwave. Since our microwave is the smallest available- used around here for heating cups of water/coffee/milkforhotcocoa and plates of nachos-- it's taking about ten minutes to get the water hot enough for each quart. But it's getting done. 

I've been much more diligent in keeping up with the sourdough starter given to me by another friend. I don't know how old this mother is, (that is the term for a culture; I'm not being snarky) but it is hardy. I never measure how much flour I feed it, or the water. I just add 'some' flour- either organic white or whole wheat- and a 'bit' of water every day. I have a back-up in the fridge in a form of status in case something contaminates this main starter or if I forget to feed it and it loses it's bubbles. Like I said though, it's a hardy batch and if I do see that it's losing its ability to ferment, I add a little apple cider vinegar before I give up on it. 

Harmony was in the practice of baking two loaves a few times a week. Her recipe required kneading, and she was good at it. But with the start of the semester, she was allowing more and more time to go between batches, and I could tell the timing was stressing her, so I adopted the baking. 

However, I am not one to spend time working on my upper body strength in the kitchen. So when I found a recipe for the French country crusty no-knead boule, it became my secret weapon to keeping bread in the house. It is a different texture and does not lend itself as well to different flavors as does Harmony's softer bread, but it takes little time and everyone likes it. 

Because I have this active sourdough bubbling on my counter next to my scoby, I searched for different ways to use these beautiful probiotics. Eating healthy doesn't mean my children (and I) don't have sweet tooths (sweet teeth?) This recipe for cinnamon rolls makes a super easy treat. Easy doesn't mean that it's not time consuming though, so it's not often that I can arrange the clock to have them made. 
This just might be the weekend for it! Epiphany is as good a reason as any, don't you think? 

moving to the kitchen

It's quite late after a long day of playing with/reading to/chasing a three-year-old, but I have put off this post long enough. As I stuff my face with kettle corn, I'll do my best to sum up our progress on the kitchen.
The above photo is the 'before' photo. In it you can see the ripped 1970's formica counter tops. What you can't really see is how shallow the sink is (or how stained). Maybe I just want too much, but living on a farm and cooking for six people often calls for a larger sink. My temperament wants for one that is not stained. You can also see the electric stove. Not only do I find it difficult to cook with electricity, we lose our power too often for it. This particular stove is particularly difficult because there is no rhyme or reason to the levels of heat on the dials.
The worst part of the kitchen is the 'bar' you see to the left. It serves no purpose other than to the narrow the work place on the counters. My goal was to flatten that and have one even work space for both counter appliances and people to gather. 

After assisting a friend during her labor and incredible home birth of her sixth child, I asked her husband if he would be willing to apply the same skills he used on their furniture to build counter-tops for us. He accepted the challenge and set to work following the directions I found here.

Taking out the old counter with (cast iron) sink attached was a heavy and awkward task. Whoever installed the old sink must have lacked confidence, because instead of the typical three or four screws under the sink, there were fifteen or so, and they were rusted.

It looks as though there are two types of wood going on here, but I assure you it's all the same. The way the light is absorbed and reflected from the cabinets makes it look much darker on one side. I'm okay with that. We're artists here, after all. 
My next job was to sand the wood, fill in any gaps, and seal it with a tung oil. After 72 hours, it is now ready for use! 

My favorite part of this countertop is the new open flat area for working. Besides being more visually appealing, it is a much more practical work and gathering space. 

We're especially excited about the 'new' sink I found on Craigslist. It was listed for sixty or so dollars, I can't remember exactly, but also listed with 'obo' so I made an offer. It was accepted via email, but when I arrived to pick it up, the seller and I recognised each other from a home school group and she sold it to me for $35. Thankful to her and to G-d, I nearly cried. I now have a sink valued at the big box store at over $200. The stove is the same model stove I had in my old custom built house; I missed that stove! I found this at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore for $150 a few months ago, and have been saving it. I've ordered the orifices to convert the stove to liquid propane and will hopefully get that up and cooking by next week.  

While Scott had the old counters out, I took advantage of that time to strip the paint from my cabinets. I have this problem with waiting. When I get an idea, I sometimes just move full steam ahead without considering how long it will take me to finish the job. It seemed prudent to use the stripping medium before my new counters were in place, even though I had no real plan on actually painting the cabinets yet....

Fortunately, a friend from church heard of my plight, has come to my rescue and is going to help me paint the cabinets this weekend! 
We have been very blessed by friends with the re-model. My son's godfather installed the faucet for us, and my son-in-law connected the drain, so the afternoon of Christmas we actually had running water after almost a week without. With a  little phone help from a friend who happens to be my auto-mechanic all 'round talented fix-it person I was able to install a dishwasher which I also found at the ReStore earlier last year! 
You might be able to see the floor- or lack of floor- in the above photo. We've been on the tile back cement board for several months. 
but that's another story....