New Life Old Farmers

Christmas cookies…yep, I love them.   I love them, so much, that I do not really bake many or any, depending on the year….because I will eat them and then I’ll need to go on another diet.  My mom use to bake a lot of Christmas cookies.  They were baked and stored in tins and we were not to touch them!  Although I am pretty sure that all 6 of us may have lifted one or two from time to time…

Most of my family bakes some of Mom’s favorites, and have for years… and yet…sometimes they think I am ‘the’ recipe box.  Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing from them, but this week it became almost comical…as the Christmas bakers went to work.

…and so I texted it again…

…and then my sister in the morning…

and then my sister again in the evening…

and then a sister-in-law…

Yes, my mother had a recipe box…don’t we all…and yes one of her children has Mom’s box…only it is not me…it is big brother Day-Fud…  Hmmm, I wonder what recipes he has in there that I need…perhaps I’ll text him.

Happy Baking!

My Mom’s gingerbread men, were really from her best friend, Esse.

and her cut out cookies…from her mom, my Gramma…

The magical table that always holds a place for one more.

My children’s high chair ever at the ready now for THE Grandson.

Our beautiful tree cut fresh from a friend’s yard.

Our preparations are much like everyone else’s…

except for us, our life here is different…

Intentionally so…

After all, that is why we moved.

Someone recently said to me, that because of this blog

‘all my readers in California think everyone in Ellensburg lives like we do, and that is not the case’

A funny comment really, because this blog is about us…

About our change…

About our life…

Living our life intentionally and sharing what we have with others…

…and I think most people (at least my readers) are fairly intelligent enough to know that this is only our perspective..

and so as we prepare for Christmas in ways we always have…

We also do things differently…

Feeding our animals…

Our Peppa who is thriving…

Feeding pigs that are becoming very large, who are less cute everyday…My lovely cow Agnes, who is happy to tell me that she’d like more alfalfa and if you have a few bananas, well, she loves them as well.

My favorite time of the day…

Each afternoon as I am doing these simple chores…I have a wonderful contentedness

…and marvel at how different my life is…

and the life of the kids who now regularly haul firewood to literally keep the

‘home fires burning’and there is still much that is the same…

I confess to keeping my daily book of devotions in the bathroom…

Pondering on the wonder of the name…

Emanuel..

‘God with us’

…and being grateful…

Last Sunday was the perfect time to sew up some scraps or cook up some scraps depending on which end of the creativity spectrum one falls on.  With the septic system working well, we/I declared an afternoon off to play in my sewing room.  I had some scraps and I wanted to use them.  I also had a side board that needed a table runner and I wanted something bright and fun for Christmas.  I guess I am a real quilter now that I have scraps, wow…I have arrived.  With not enough room on my sewing table, luckily I have a scrap couch handy for laying out the goods.I was sewing random blocks… I love…LOVE random.  I sew scraps together with just a hint of symmetry (white blocks in the middle) and trim them all to 6 inch squares.Meanwhile back in the kitchen My Loving Spouse is whipping up a turkey pot pie with his own creative flare!This would be the final stage of the left overs from Thanksgiving.  After diner My Loving Spouse declared that he was ‘not eating another bite of turkey’, and we were to feed the left overs from the left overs to the pigs.  Luckily, left overs are the pigs favorite meal and so nothing and I mean nothing goes to waste around here.

We then put away our scraps, and drug Team Offspring to church for an around the table carol sing, with cake, small kids dressed as shepherds and kings…and the magic that can be the Christmas season…  I still think these two are pretty darn cute, even when I know that when they are smiling they are often smiling conspiratorially at something only they find funny…usually their mother.It took me a few more days to finish up my scraps…but I finished off my new table runner at quilting and I LOVE it!This is my keeping it ‘real’ picture or shall we say the ‘non-Pinterest’ version with the (I am afraid to say) gun in the corner that My Loving Spouse is waiting on some part for so he can fix it picture.  Yes, folks I’ve come a long way from the suburbs of Los Angeles!

My Ta-Da moment…with my long loved Santas nestled in an old wooden chicken feeder, real greens from the tree (and I have the sap on my hands to prove it).  Broken gun edited out of the picture…and we are ready for our close up…Enjoy your scraps of life this Christmas season!

Facebook usage in the country is no different from anywhere else…I think.  There are Facebook groups for organizations and like-minded people just like there are in the city.  The topics might be different…but for the most part it is a sharing of information…Sometimes a warning…

Very often the opportunity for ‘free’ stuff…from one to another…

 

The search for advice…Keeping an eye on everyone and attempting to be helpful…A place to advertise…You can even look for others to help reduce the cost of shipping almost anything!…because sharing is caring…

The good and the bad of a small town?  It is hard.  It is good.  It is great..and it makes me humble!

I would have to say hands down that our hardest transition has been living among ‘all’ the people.  ‘All’…as in every socio-economic level.  In a small town we live with each piece of the pie, as it were.  In California property was so expensive almost everyone lives with those making a bit less than them and a bit more than them and hence…there is not that big a difference between them all.  Oh, it felt like there was a ‘difference’ at the time…but let me tell you, there was not.  In a small town, it is oh, so different.

At my school down the street the little kids there are like little kids everywhere…they want to run when they are supposed to walk, want to shout when they are supposed to be quiet, some start each sentence as if we’ve already been talking while others must be coaxed into talking at all…and yet…they are only alike when they are in school.  At home, some are in foster care, some live in a shelter, some live with Grandparents because Dad is in jail and Mom is drugged up…  Some eat mostly when they are in school and others are going to Disneyland for Christmas, some live with Mom & Dad and most of their extended family live in town, too and are professionals, business owners, farmers, professors and the like.

Living among ‘all’ the people…where they have a face and a name…can break your heart.  The desire to care for others, who have less, it seems to be second nature to the people of this valley.  Their generosity and caring is like none other.  When there is a need they do not point at what should be done or decree who should do ‘it’…they just get busy and get the job done.

On Black Friday the Food Bank burned down.  The FISH (Friends in Service to Humanity) Food Bank was started by the local churches here many years ago to identify and meet the needs of the hungry in Kittitas County.  FISH serves meals 4 times a week  and provides food to a large number in this community.  This affects many…so many of our own…

The food bank burned down Friday and on Saturday there was a plan in place and the food was flooding in…  Hot meals would be served at one church…at another church the boxes of groceries would be distributed.  At our church an emergency meeting of session to assist with a large financial donation from a small church.  People stepping up to help people….it is a good…and humbling way to belong.

Today our little church manned every Salvation Army kettle in town…our small moments of bell ringing is nothing, but a drop in the bucket or the kettle.

I think living in a large city is easier…but this living in a small town…it is better…better for me.

This is a quick word about the comment section of this blog.  I know…it sucks stinks.  It has stunk for forever and I have tried to fix it many, many times.  I know about as much about computers as I do about farming…except now after two years here I know more about farming and even less about computers.  So here is the thing…. I might have fixed ‘it’.  I do not know…we’ll just have to see…

It could end up like Maggie with one of the last pumpkins of the season…I am hopeful that it will enable us to all enjoy the comment section better…as a group…more like the chickens enjoying their last pumpkin.

Only time will tell,

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who stay on this journey with me…

I appreciate you so very much!

 

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  The food is yummy, the football plentiful and the memories, well they are what matter.  After managing to rip out most of the working electrical last Christmas Eve, the bar was set pretty high for ‘memorable holiday family moments’….and yet, I think we nailed it.  This year will go down as the Thanksgiving that the septic system failed…completely…by diner time.

We dined on a turkey diner with all the trimmings, the table set with my mother’s silver and the china was out for most of us to use.  Just because we had no working plumbing, didn’t mean we needed to abandon all civilities.  One advantage of having no plumbing was that there were no arguments about whose turn it was to do the dishes.  So with the dinner devoured and the pies in the oven, we might as well play croquet making it the official end of the Glory Farm Croquet Season.  We donned our straw hats and headed outdoors!It was THE Grandson’s first game….He was a good sport and I expect a lot more games in his future.  He quickly figured out that this is a BYOB game.We continued to pile the dishes, pots and pans up in the useless sink and wait ‘it’ out.

We’d scheduled Black Friday for the excavation of the septic drain field.  As we were getting ready for the morning, I mentioned I would wear my oldest clothes…

“Oh, Sweetie… you won’t get dirty just driving the tractor.  You won’t be in the trench…”

That would have been true, except for the whole ‘flexibility factor’ and when it comes down to just him and me…yep, I ‘win’, into the trench I went…but I am getting ahead of myself.

Black Friday was black…black with mud and some muck…luckily for us the weather was ‘fair’ with only a light rain and not too cold…it was well above freezing.

Number One Son was here for the start of the production helping with the rented track hoe and the digging up of the old drain field/leach lines.  

Septic tanks were actually one of the few things I knew about prior to moving to the country.  I grew up in La Canada, California a lovely community that had no sewers…septic was the norm or rather the only.  However, what I knew about septic systems consisted of understanding ‘that’ smell.  When we kids would smell ‘that’ smell, we would tell our parents.  They would then, smell ‘that‘ smell, check our back yard and usually heave a huge sigh of relief…and mutter…’Oh thank God, it is the neighbors’.  So, suffice it to say, I didn’t really understand septic not like I do now.  What we needed to do was replace the leech field or the drain field for the ‘black’ water….that comes from the septic tank and if you do not know what is in the septic tank…well, then you are on your own.

So began the digging…this is actually where having a clog in one’s system came in handy because the clog was complete…nothing came out..luckily for us…it was just a little bit smelly and let me tell you, it could have been way, way worse.…and more digging…

Then came my first job using Blue.  Blue and I scoop up rock from the rock pile.and carefully drop the rock into the trench….  I am very proud of my scooping, dropping rock-work and might have had to remind My Loving Spouse who was working very hard and was a tad stressed that I am the best City-Girl-Tractor-Driving-Wife he has and that it is not as easy as it looks.Next we break for tea…Well, not exactly…we use the steamer to pour hot water over the pipe so it will be a bit more flexible when the one of us who is more flexible has to climb into the trench and shove the pipe together and into the drain tank.Now it is time to unclog the clog (hopefully) and have the drain field drain…Number Two Son steps in to assist with the unplugging of the drain pipe….

We are thankful on Thanksgiving weekend…for clog free drains!

….and drain fields that drain…

and even Team Offspring was thankful…

“You mean we can shower?”

“Yep!!”

“…and flush?”

“Yep”

“Wow!  We are living large!”

Of course we were only half done…Saturday morning we had to fill line one and dig line two…  Thank God for our neighbor The Retired Fire Captain who thought this would be fun…and came to help dig.We are grateful for his help…and for tractors…and pipes and drain fields that work.  This septic system problem has been hanging over our heads… to have fixed it is a huge relief…to be able to fix it ourselves helps me to see that most things are not as complicated as I might think….  a brand new system could have cost $20,000…  A plumber repairing it could have cost $6-7,000

The new septic lines:

Pipe                                       $90

Weed screen                        $16

New Shovel                          $10

Rock                                      $270

Track hoe rental                 $300

Advil for aching muscles   $4.99

Doing it oneself…  amazing

Flushing……..priceless!

With the current ‘red’ alert on septic issues, we are not doing any laundry here at Glory Farm.  We were off to the laundromat, a place we’d yet to experience here in the country.  We had a teeny bit of laundry to do……and managed to get 7 loads done in 2 1/2 hours and make a new friend.

Our New Friend and My Loving Spouse started chatting, which if you know My Spouse is no surprise.  We never did actually learn his name, but did learn that his wife died 5 years ago after they’d been married 49 years.  He might be lonely, but he ‘doesn’t have enough time to break in another woman’….

We got our 7 washers going and discussed going to Bi-Mart.  (Bi-Mart as a store falls in the realm somewhere between Big Lots and Target).

I was a tad nervous to leave the laundromat, because people have been known to have their clothes taken.  Our New Friend offered to watch our clothes for us.  I told him my flannel cow pj’s were in there so keep a really good eye on them, to which he laughed, which made me wonder how good a watch dog he’d be.  However, as there was really no one else in the laundromat, we decided to run down the road to B-Mart and asked Our New Friend, if he needed anything.

‘Nope, I am good…..  Oh, well if they have any 10 inch tortillas.  I need those’

‘Okay, I will look for them….corn or flour?’ 

‘Flour, I never gotten use to corn.’

‘Gotcha’

I found the tortillas, did our other business and hustled back to the laundromat.  The clothes were not only still safe, but were just finishing their wash.  Our New Friend gave me a tutorial on Laundromat Dryers and I gave him his tortillas, our small gift, because that is just life in the country…and I love it.

There is another observation I’ve made living in the country, almost every store has recliner chairs for sale…big puffy ones.  It seems a lot of people like these.  I will have to say, that it has never really been my decorating style…

Bi-Mart takes the recliner to an all new level…camo…really?

There is an upset moaning cow in our pasture, yes Agnes.  She is wailing like a fog horn and has been all night.  The 1800 pound mother is wondering where her little 500 pound calf Bob has gone.  It is loud, like a fog horn.  It is a mournful sound.  She is a pretty good mom and she does NOT like it, that she cannot find her calf.

We are having a some warm weather (40-50’s), so weaning Bob now will be less stressful on him than in the cold.  I know, I sound like I know what I am talking about, but this is actually what Our Friend The Farmer said.  He is a great friend and offered to have Bob up at his place for the next few weeks to wean him.  One more calf to feed is not too big a deal for him with his many, but when it is your neighbor’s prize/only calf it does add a bit of burden to it.

So armed with his wise advice and generous offer loading up Bob became the highest priority on the ever popular ‘to-do’ list.  Bob is bashful.  He likes that we feed him, but otherwise he really has no interest in being too close to us.  This makes moving him fairly easy because he always moves away from us.  We’ve gotten better and better at moving him where we want him to go, not just chasing him all over the field.  We used one of our old loading shoots, which is my new favorite cattle tool.  We had him loaded easily and fast into the trailer, as if we knew just what we were doing!Bob is being weaned and will return.  Agnes is not happy about it.  I am a thankful, because now I understand what Our Friend the Farmer was saying about weaning ‘trying’ your fences and with the sound of that big old Mama, if we had tried to wean him here, I know our fences would not have stood a chance.