farm chores, beach pictures

*Photos by Maureen of Twig and Toadstool

My dear husband faithfully tends to our animals during the winter when I tend to stick a bit close to the wood stove and my knitting. I am so appreciative of that gesture! So, in the summer when I'm home and he continues to go out to work, I take over the chores. 

I set out at dawn because I have a toddler who makes sure I never miss the sunrise. She is usually with me and helps out by filling the water buckets for the animals. I scoop hog grower into a bucket then mix it with water. We have a quirky entrance to the pig pen which means that I have to climb up on a stump and over the fence onto a rock, precariously balancing the (heavy) bucket of provender while warding off the hungry beasts who tug at my pant-legs with their rubbery mouths. 

A delighted orgy of mastication ensues as they chow down on discarded fruit peels, vegetable scraps, egg shells, leftover bread crusts and the milk and cereal the kids leave behind in their bowls. The rooster and his hen, plus our new hen and her three chicks wander and cluck, venturing in closer to see if any tidbits might have fallen to the side. I scatter some corn for them, then refresh their water.

I give the heavy plastic trough we use for watering the pigs each morning; yesterday's water becomes the day's mud pit. The intent was to put their water in a vessel that they couldn't easily tip. They can't tip this one and don't want to, because they use it as a bathtub. It is both annoying and hilarious to watch them take a sip of the cold, clean well water, then step right in and roll around in it. By the end of the day it is more mud than water. But they love it, so how can I say no? 

The sheep often need to be moved from the barnyard where they spend the night to a pasture that has enough grass to sustain their incessant grazing. We will be looking into buying some portable electric fencing soon as they have made short work of our available pasture and we have plenty of grass that we'd rather not mow. The puppy has been bravely venturing in to the sheep's sphere with me but has been rewarded for his courage with head butts and hoof-stamping galore. Just wait about six months, I tell him. You'll be big enough then to show them who's boss.

I bring some apple slices in my apron to greet the ponies who remind me of the older sibling once a baby is born. The sheep, pigs, and puppy are new arrivals and have taken up a lot of the time we used to spend with the equine members of the farm. I rest my forehead against a warm neck for a moment and whisper kind words to these quiet, beautiful animals. A peaceful feeling settles over me. I make a mental note to trim their hooves this weekend.

There is a rhythm and a meditation to taking care of animals. When I know that all are fed, watered, and have all the elements for healthy, happy living in place (shade, pasture, fresh straw), I feel peaceful and satisfied. It's like the feeling when the kids are all bathed and asleep, the floor is swept, and the dishes are done. It's a feeling of order, that everything is right in the world, that earth will keep turning for another 12 hours and that at least in my corner of the planet, all are safe and well.

I pause to lean on the fence. I listen to the pigs grunting their greedy satisfaction while the chickens cluck and scratch happily. The sheep are just behind the fence; they raise their heads to see what I'm up to. The sun is getting higher and warmer and I know that a beautiful summer day lies ahead.

It is not surprising for me to find that 45 minutes have passed since I told the kids I'd be right back. I scoop out some kibble for the cats (and kittens!) and for the pup and make sure their water bowls are replenished, then step inside.

I pack food, towels, hats, and a quilt, and we set off to enjoy the rest of the day at the beach. Kayuk joins us for his first big outing and he wins all hearts with his calm, goofy nature and his beautiful freckles. I bring a bit of knitting to occupy my hands in those rare moments when there is no one asking me for food, and Norah uses the watermelon as a chair.

Summer...work and fun, beautifully balanced to bring peace and joy into each day.

summer holidays, at last

Tired faces, ready to be done school!

Pioneer costumes optional for summer fun.

Exploring culinary variety.

Hands full of wonder.

The school year passes in a blur of busyness: pulling kids from sleep, rushing them through breakfast, hustling them out the door, then repeating it all in reverse in the evening till everyone is asleep again. And repeat. I fantasize about the flexible rhythms of a family that can stay at home, and remember with fondness the days when I was home with my toddlers to enjoy the many little moments that make up their days. I have missed Norah terribly this past year, as she has missed me. 

The last week of school was tough on us both; she was home from her daycare and was here in the care of my mom and my mother-in-law. She cried every morning when we left, and we literally counted down the days. When I got home on Wednesday I noticed a curious spotty rash all over her torso. 

On the last day of school I snapped the requisite photo then paced my phone on the hood of the car to take a picture with my Canon. I drove off and forgot about the phone...until I saw it fly through the air then hit the road HARD. I had to wander the road before I found it in the ditch, screen smashed to smithereens. Sigh. It was a fitting symbol of the many balls I've been juggling all year; it stands to reason that I should drop one on the last day of the school year.

We ended the week with a case of the chicken pox. The older three went through it all at once six years ago (at exactly this time of year), so Norah suffered the itching alone. Calamine, baking soda baths, and Benadryl got her through without too much trouble. She is coming out on the other side now, covered in scabs. We've watched lots of movies and cuddled our way through the worst of it.

Having TIME is such a gift. Time to sit in the early morning light and play with barns and animals. The teacher in me marvels at her cognitive development, how she works to find the barn that fits the each animal best, how she stacks and balances and problem solves. Mostly I just marvel at her: her skin, her messy hair, her dexterous hands, her many sweet and funny words. 

I have time to make healthy food again. That was one of the biggest challenges this past year: coming home and having to figure out what to feed everyone. I had time to make spring rolls the other night, and last night made a yummy chicken curry. Jude has expressed an interest in trying spicy, "different" foods which has me jumping for joy. Years of plain chicken, potatoes, and steamed veggies (the girls' favourite meal) has me pining for flavour.

Aside from a trip to France in July and our camping trip in August, summer will be spent caring for our increasing population of critters and hopefully spinning lots as I've joined Ravelry's Tour de Fleece!

I'll drop by here now and then when I have fun stuff to share. 

white dress

I'm wrestling with my feelings of ambivalence about my faith at the moment. Faith has been a challenge for me since my teens. I struggle daily with my memories of a happily religious childhood and the many harsh realities of the Catholic Church. Particularly as a young woman, the restrictions and expectations placed on me jarred me to the point of swearing off religion of all kinds. 

I slowly ventured back when I moved home and eventually found myself as a teacher in the Catholic School Board. With maturity came an uneasy kind of peace, and I am able to find some of the joy I knew as a child. It's still a struggle, daily. I was once told that as long as I am on the journey, it's all good.

In spite of my ambivalence, it was beautiful to celebrate Violet's First Communion with our family this past weekend. She has been preparing all year with her Grade Two class, under the faithful tutelage of her classroom teacher and our school/parish priest. She has looked forward to this day with much reflection and anticipation. Her pure, innocent approach to faith is beautiful and inspiring, and calls up nostalgia in me when I remember how I felt about the Catholic Church when I was a little girl. 

And while my own path is a long and winding one, I believe that children should be set on a path, any path, to see where it takes them. I believe that this path may be one they follow forever if it brings them joy, but that it also might be just the starting point, that perhaps they may step off into the unknown someday to find their own path. It's all good.

Keeping with tradition, my mom made Violet's dress (she made mine, too!), and I embellished it with some simple embroidery. She couldn't wait to get out into the pasture with the sheep and ponies as soon as we got home, and I quietly followed with the camera. 

This is my farm girl, the little girl I was in so many ways! I always say that I don't see myself in her physically (although I know she's mine!). She has beautiful, long, tapered fingers whereas my hands are like a pioneer woman's: square, blunt fingers, built for digging tubers and smacking bottoms (haha). She is a nut-brown maid, while I am all peaches and cream. 

But her fondness for animals, the outdoors, reading, and a quirky mix of logic and romanticism...that's all me. Oh, she has plenty of herself in her too, mysterious dashes of qualities that don't echo mine or her father's.

My beautiful daughter! She takes my breath away, whether she is a pure-white Lamb of God or a tangle-haired, shirtless wild thing in jeans and rubber boots. I cannot claim her as mine, as she belongs to herself. I pray that she will always love and respect herself as she does today.