The Rare Moments

When the children were little, the Wife feared they would "never" grow up...and they did.  Now we are at the stage where they are leaving the house; now the Wife wonders if we will "never" be together again. This year, because of Dear Farmer and the Wife's anniversary, all the children made the effort and arranged lives to be together for a full 24 hours! God answered our prayer, and there was peace among all of them for our blissful moments together...and the Wife cherished this in her heart.

The Wife clearly remembers her grandmother, the Amazing Farm-Wife, saying much the same things...
She was 90 at the time...so, it must be a "mom-thing".

These are the ebbs and flow of life. Children graduate from sippy cups(the inventor of which, should have received some sort of award!) to coffee mugs. The arrows, that were once jammed inside our very cramped quiver, are shot out. Wrangling them to all come home at one time, doesn't often happen.  It's the rare moments that help us to look back and be thankful for all the craziness of the past with fondness.
Those little ridiculous trials-the child who refused to eat potatoes, the dishwasher that never quite worked right, or the dustpan that was forever cracked-they weren't that big of a deal after all.
Probably didn't need to stress over the unplanned haircut, or the marker on his face.

Enjoy those rare moments...cherish them in your heart...

Old Chimney's and New Lumber

The "falling-down" farmhouse has (for the last ten or so years) been in a journey towards a cave-in. Remarkably, when the residents of the house re-shingled in 1993, they removed the top of the remaining chimney(the old kitchen chimney had been removed approx.1965) from the old living room fireplace...but just the top.  When the furnace replaced the old fireplace(approx.1965, also) the old fireplace was boarded up and abandoned, left to crumble behind paneling.  Crumble it did. After fifty  years of crumbling...the cave-in was fast approaching....unless an intrepid Farmer were to step in and rescue the farmhouse.  Insert Dear Farmer.

Dear Farmer will tell you, "I'm just a farmer." And while that is true, if you aren't already aware of what farmers do, let us clue you in to the job-description.

Farmer (n.): able to do electrical(both residential and industrial), welding, construction building, plumbing, mechanic, meteorologist, agricultural botanist, animal husbandry professional, customer relations, salesman.

Thankfully, Dear Farmer has learnt to do all of those well.  He's stayed at the top of his game where building is involved...and the "falling-down" farmhouse is kinda like a hobby(that we happen to live in). So when we noted how much the slope of the house had increased over the past two years we also came to cross road: fix it, or start building a new house...this year.
Try as the Wife did, she could not finagle the new house this year.  Dear Farmer has too much experience to just let the relic of a farmhouse die....
guess we're fixing it.
The plan was to chisel out the bricks and toss them out the windows to the ground below...from the attic first, then the second floor, then the living room...until all the bricks are out.  The chisel workers would be Dear Farmer, the Shadow, and the littlest Shadow. The toss-er would be the Pied Piper.  The stacker on the ground level would be the Keeper of the Flame.  The Farmer's Daughters would be in there somewhere doing whatever was needed.
Dear Farmer was preparing to begin the work process as the family was all out of the house(thoughtful preparation works better when no one is around to tap on his shoulder, tug on his pant-leg, pester him with questions, and move his tools to remote locations).  Dear Farmer chiseled at a brick to test the amount of work this would require...the brick needed no chisel.  The mortar simply blew off...scary how little work this would require. Now, as near as we can figure...the farmhouse was built approx.1900-1910.  So it stands to reason, the chimney was put in place at the same time. Which leads us to place the brick and mortar age at approx. 108-118 years old. Ouch! No wonder the mortar is non-existent and the bricks are crumbling!
Dear Farmer did the entire chimney by himself(with a couple moments of help from the Haus Frau Farmer's Daughter), in a couple hours. Three stories of brick, neatly stacked, outside of the house.
The rest of the family arrived home to a surprise! I am sure the relief and pleasure were evident on all the faces when we saw the bricks stacked and the job done.  The boys didn't have to do any of it, Dear Farmer didn't have to have multiple hands helping, and the girls didn't have too much mess to clean up!
Easy-cheesy-lemon-squeezie!

Dear Farmer was all excited to show the Wife what had been accomplished! "Come on! Come see!", he said as he ushered her into the house, upstairs to the attic door.  He opened the attic door(which the Wife has had to admit, just might be her one weakness to sentimentality towards the "falling-down" farmhouse)  to show her the work accomplished from the top-down.  The Wife, happy(but not really that excited about walking over and around decayed rodent carcasses), dutifully admired the work done, the lack of work required, and the empty hole that descended to the basement.
All the things that could be done with a ready made hole in the floor came to her mind: a dumb-waiter, a laundry shoot, a fireman's pole...all possibilities!
Alas, Dear Farmer looked at his Wife(almost pitifully) and told her it was getting covered up and nothing would happen with it.  Then he descended into the basement to jack the middle of the house up a full five inches.
The Wife noticed something else, while up in the attic...the house was built with true 2x4s.  Not like the lumber turned out today that isn't actually 2inches x 4inches, but rather 1.5inches x 3.5inches.
Those 2x4s are perfectly squared together, beautiful!  Add that beautifully constructed attic to the hand-dug basement complete with logs for the support posts...yeah, I guess I can see why Dear Farmer wanted to save this "falling-down" farmhouse a bit longer.
It just seems a shame that we have to add new lumber to it...lumber that's has a name that's not true to it's size. Lumber that was purchased at a box store, not a lumber mill.

In it's hay-day I am sure the "falling-down" farmhouse was quite the modern home to behold.
Dear Farmer sees it...the Wife has to close her eyes to see it...and when the Wife closes her eyes she still sees the remnants of an old chimney, and the cost of new lumber.

Country Boys Go To Town

The Keeper of The Flame, The Pied Piper, and The Farmer's Shadow have all spent exactly four full weeks in town over the last eight weeks.  They had no choice, they were told to get in the car~so they went.  We are blessed to spend time in a town that desperately wants to be a suburb, but its not yet found a city to belong to. The town once resided in the country, and it seems to think it still does...but now that we live in a true country setting(okay, we think it is...we have to drive 40 minutes to get to a WalMart and our nearest neighbor is a mile away as the crow flies, isn't that true country?) we kinda chuckle.  This is a town.  A bonafide, curb-enhanced, paved, town.  Complete with two gas stations and four restaurants.

For boys who have only grown up in the country, and on a farm...coming into town is different.

First of all: no peeing outside. This is an actual issue.  Country boys are used to watering the tires.  Even some country girls can do it (I heard tell). But in town they will have NONE of it! So zip up those pants and wait until you're inside.

Secondly: Please don't flush the toilet for fun.  In town you have to pay for that water going out, and the water coming in!  

Safe-fun only: My country boys tend to be the knife tossing, hatchet wielding, hole digging kinda boys.  But in town...well...the police aren't so happy about eight year old knife throwing boys.  Especially when they think the best targets are the trees in the front yard, next to the road...

And though we have lived in a recreation of the WWI trench wars...we don't want to go back, so please leave the turf in place now.

"What CAN we do?" , they ask after the Wife has shot down any hope they had for outdoor fun.

"How about you build a fort with sticks for pine cones? You could make an obstacle course and time each other running through it. OR fold laundry!"

"What's the fun in any of that?", they ask.

I have no answer for them.

An hour later the Wife found this in the back yard....

Its definitely big enough for pine cones, a large dog, or an eight, ten and twelve year old...but they say they built it for the six, four and two year old (whatever).

And as a side note: this structure is NOT safe! Those logs are all stacked on top of each other. There's no stability at all.  The six, four and two year old did not get to play long in it, before a wall fell down and there were tears. Thankfully no cracked sculls.

"Girl" chores: we aren't gender neutral around here.  There are specific "boy" chores and "girl" chores on our farm. The boys do the hard work and heavy labor.  Basically, the nasty stuff the Wife doesn't want to have to do again.  Like cleaning the barn, stacking hay, and trimming goat feet. What on earth do boys do in town?  The Keeper of the Flame has cut the grass(which is the size of a postage stamp) twice! And I fear it's not going to come back it's so trimmed! The garbage has gone out of every room...hourly, every day, just to give the Pied Piper some work to do!  In a final act of desperation, the Wife gave the Farmer's Shadow a "girl" chore: unloading the dishwasher.  The poor boy, he's a sweetheart, he did it, but he nearly cried as he began putting away silverware.  The other two hid-I'm not sure if they were concerned that they might have to help, or just felt the Shadow's shame.  Since then, they have been folding laundry, loading dishwashers, washing pots and pans, vacuuming and sweeping. The house has never been so clean with ten people in it!

Country boys in town find trees to climb-usually in front of some poor lady who never heard of tree climbing children, or maybe had only read about them in a book and cannot believe that the Wife would permit her children to climb a tree in a public place.

Country boys end up on the roof of the garage. Or the house. Or have one on the garage roof and one on the house roof and begin sending signals back and forth using mirrors.

Country boys spend a LOT of time at the beach with a net and goggles trying to catch the elusive cat fish they imagine lives under the pier.  They find dead fish and dissect them in front of all the other children on the beach.  They get dark and dark-er tan.  

Country boys say "HI!" to every passer-by, and pet every dog.  They laugh loud and shout to each other when they walk down the sidewalk.

In the end...they will go back to the country and talk all winter about the fun they had.  When they were made to use the bathroom EVERY time they had to "go", when they build forts for little siblings, and they only had to do "girl chores". In the end, it will be a fond memory...when the Country boys went to town.

We Don't See Any Daffodils Yet.

There has been great discussion in the house about where our daffodils are.  In the fall the little farmer's daughters and the Wife went and bought two bags of yellow daffodil bulbs.  Then we opened the bags and threw the bulbs in the front yard near the ditch...hang on, I know that sounds strange...wherever the bulbs fell, we planted them.  It has a natural effect when they start popping up-like there was never a time there wasn't a daffodil there.
When we lived in Wisconsin we constantly drove past a neighbor who had been doing this for ten or so years-in the spring his front yard was "a bloom!".  The Wife was thinking ahead!!!  If we start now, in ten years...it will look amazing! All winter we have been looking forward to the spring, because of the promise of the daffodils.
Here in lies the problem: the Spring has been hot, cold, hot, cold, hot, cold...everyday is a little different from the day before.  So, on the hot days we are out searching for the daffodils to peek their heads above the ground...and on the cold days we PRAY they will peek their heads above ground quickly!
The Wife has read that daffodils planted in protected areas will rise and bloom earlier than daffodils planted in a field.  I guess here on the plains of Illinois, we would be considered unprotected.
Yellow and happy faces of flowers welcoming everyone who passes by, welcoming all of us home on busy days, welcoming warmer weather for a season, these are reasons we are desperate for daffodils.
Where are they?
Are your daffodils blooming?

Springtime Sharing

There is a joy to be had in springtime! And for all of us, it usually starts with a cold.  Either from the overly anxious child who has run outside coat-less, barefoot, and in shorts proclaiming "It's WARM!"; when the thermometer is barley registering above zero. Or from the extreme temperature swings: 70F degrees one day, down to 30F degrees the next, and back up overnight to 60F.  It's absolute craziness, but also a good reminder...it's springtime!
March is coming in "like a Lion" on our farm.  The wind blows to 45mph gusts, the temperature swings back and forth, and the grass greens one moment, and freezes the next. The livestock wander out to the greening paddock to nibble on what little they can find. The people in the house wander around looking for chocolate. And then there's the sounds of spring...cough, cough, achoo!  And being a family that shares, everyone is making sure to be generous in the giving of cold germs with the family members they feel "deserve" it most.
O the joys of springtime!

To Mow a Lawn

The Keeper of the Flame has had the esteemed job of mowing the lawn. Not just your average postage stamp of grass, but rather a couple acres. By push mower.
As parents we were super impressed with our forward thinking that the mower we gave him to push is gas powered. The Keeper of the Flame dilligently pushed for three weeks of the July heat index beyond 100F. The lawn is large enough to make it divisible into five smaller parts so that it was five days of an hour or two of lawn mowing. Small complaints were breathed, but no large blow-ups. And then the day came when the request was made, "I don't need any birthday gifts. Save the money to buy a riding lawnmower." This is the way to any mother's heart, through humility and self denial. Willing to give away all worldly pleasures for a simple riding mower with which he could bless his parents and continue to cut the lawn. So when the neighbor was selling his riding mower, the Wife was willing to pay whatever he was asking for her dear sweet boy. The haggle was short, and the mower drove to its new home. At dinner that night the conversation was light and good humor abounded. Tomorrow the Keeper of the Flame would be cutting the full lawn in one day. Everyone was jovial! Soon the conversation became something new to the Wife's ears..."Hey, Pop! Could we hook up a trailer to the mower to haul water buckets?"
...Such a thoughtful son, she thought, helping do his brother's chores...
"Pop, I could drive the mower to weed the bean field with the neighbors.."
...ahh, everyone should have a son so willing to be a blessing to everyone...
"and we could hook a trailer up to the back for the canoes going down to the canal, maybe we could tweek the engine to go a little faster? How do we lift it for four-wheel drive? do you think I could drive it to the gas station to get ice cream?"
...eh?...who's child was this?
And this was when the Wife realized...she had just bought her son his first vehicle...which just happens to cut the lawn.

(He is still a sweet boy, thoughtful, and diligent.)

The Adventures of Dear Farmer and Indoor Plumbing

Disclaimer:this is probably one of the more disgusting posts. But in our family everything is shared news. Everything! It is part of Dear Farmer we love. However, the Wife does not believe that this is part of country hospitality....though, should you visit, you should know this beforehand.


No, We do not have an outhouse. Yes, we do have indoor plumbing. However, we have the indoor plumbing from when indoor plumbing was first made. And then in the ninteen sixties someone thought it looked old, put a new pink face on it, and made it appear hip and trendy.
A mere fifty years after the facelift, the bones of the original plumbing are brittle and clogged...and needing replacing.
Insert Dear Farmer's newest adventure...indoor plumbing.
To give Dear Farmer more time to research the "how to" his family has come up with a jingle you might have heard in a playground, " If its yellow, let it mellow. If its brown, flush it down." This is the core of playground humor, and reality in this old farmhouse. Well, reality until Dear Farmer has figured out how to fix and replace the old plumbing.
Insert the family joke: "but what do you do if its green?"
Now you can screw up your face, giggle and laugh. But really...what do you do?
Here in lies the adventure every time we open the toilet lid. What did the person who used the bathroom before you do? What did they do with the green?

Heat, Humidity, and the Search for Water

One thing that you will never hear the Wife complain about is heat or humidity.  Yea, she's one of THOSE people. The rest of the family, however, has no qualms about letting you know exactly HOW hot they are, HOW liquid they feel, or HOW miserable they anticipate the next hours to be.
So, when the weather turned to full blast summer with a hundred and fifty percent humidity, and the family began melting they made their feelings known.  The Wife learned several facts that had apparently escaped previously...like: we do not own a pool and the cattle tank we have is not big enough for more than one big teen-age body, or two small children.  We do not have air conditioning...anywhere. We do not have a trampoline. And dinner is always HOT! { O the horrors of life, the Wife had no idea.}
The Wife made one of those verbal suggestions that she made regret later in life...she said, "Stop complaining and figure out how to survive."  Which the children did a few days later, while cousins were in town...
They went on a walk...to the canal...and jumped in.
(Can you do that?) 
The reviewers were raving, "This is great!"  "Water!"  "We won't die!"
The Wife had forgotten, she is a water-girl, the children were all raised at the beach. So, now, in the middle of a corn field, it should not have surprised her that all her children were in need of a good dunking.  They were parched.
The canal isn't what the Wife would have chosen to jump into.  The Wife prefers clear water...she's a lake snob. But the children don't care. 
Dear Farmer and Honorable Son No.2 were impressed with the ingenuity of the children.  They think it's a great idea!  So much so, that when they come home from the feed mill, coated in soy-meal, they grab their towels and a bar of soap and down to the canal they go! 
The Wife...she's not jumping in.  She did, however, pack up all the children and drive three hours to the lake.  She sat on the beach with her toes wiggling in the water(she could see her toes in the water!) and enjoyed the beauty of the water.  The cooling and beautiful water...while the children all jumped in and splashed!

Well, Hello Dolly!

Introducing the Newest Members of Foundation Family Farms...

"Dolly"-our someday milk cow-currently a three month old hefier calf. She's a Jersey-Angus Mix, given to us by dear friends.
Under her is "Chili Pepper" and in front of them is "Cayenne Pepper" our two newborn goatlings from mother "Paprika". They were born July 13 during dinner.  It was great fun to hear and see the excitement of all the children knowing that "Paprika" was giving birth while we were eating.  Dinner was a good excuse to get everyone out of the barn so she could have a little privacy, also.  When we were done eating everyone hustled out to see not just one baby, but two! 
It seems that the three have formed the "Future Milk Suppliers" Club.

So, come on down to the farm! The little kids are curious to meet you!

Raspberries for Breakfast

We have the most giant patch of red luscious raspberries right outside our back door. 
When the Wife was a littlest girl she had a raspberry patch that she used to eat breakfast in. A cup of milk from the kitchen and out the door to the raspberries for a morning graze.
 
This morning, while the Wife was cooking oatmeal over the cooktop outside, the Chicken Dinner Farmer's Daughter followed her out.  But she didn't stay with the Wife.  She continued past the Wife and began a morning graze...in the raspberry patch.  She was happy and completely content eating berries. 
The Wife did finish up the oatmeal, and took it inside for everyone for breakfast.  Chicken Dinner happily brought in a few berries to add to her oatmeal, as well as a few to share with siblings.

How can you not just LOVE raspberries from your own backyard for breakfast?

How would you like to live a hundred years ago?

Been missing us?  We've been missing you.
So, we found this amazing farmhouse! We moved in from the sock and the shoe, into this amazing farmhouse...and stepped back in time!  Was it a time-warp?
Nope.  It's called "Amish Country" by the locals.  Apparently, that's because we are surrounded by a Mennonite Community.

So, step back in time, it's a very interesting ride:
1.indoor plumbing(limited)
2.electricity(gee, no one knew the power had gone off in the storm...because everyone uses limited electricity!)
3.country hospitality--people around here are teaching us about this!
4.internet...nope.
5.neighbors...300+ acres away

When I talk to the Amazing Farm Wife(Grandma) she says that there are people that didn't like the look of the electric lines in the (nineteen) forties.  They thought that it destroyed the view of the countryside. Now there's wind-turbines that dot the countryside.
Here in "Amish Country" the locals take the changes of the modern-day in stride.  The farmers aren't using horses to plow, and the acreage well exceeds the hundred year old standard(one man to every one hundred acres).  But the life is hundred year old simple. 

For the past month we've eliminated the modern day from our thinking.  Outhouses, cooking over an open flame, and sleeping in the sweltering heat and storms.  It was good!  Going back to the simple reminds us how far we've come...and how much we've lost.

So here's how we're making this work now.  This farmhouse, this awesome hundred year old farmhouse, it's going to glow with the life we're giving it.  When it saw us coming, it might have cringed, but we're breathing the life back in it's old bones. 
Dear Farmer is jacking and bracing the old foundation.  Reinforcing and skim-coating.
Replacing the old roof shingles with metal roofing.
Connecting the limited electricity so we can plug in fans on sweltering nights, and use lights on gloomy days.
And Dear Farmer has the opportunity to learn about "French Drains"...which is so exciting to the Wife because she speaks French, though Dear Farmer doesn't believe that one has anything to do with the other...

Those modern-maids that the Wife loved so dearly...Mme.Dishwasher, Mr.World Wide Web, and that glorious babysitter "Netflix".  Those we've said good-bye to.  It's sad to see them go...but we'll survive without.
So, your blog posts will be less frequent, but the stories more full.
And Dear Farmer and family will still do what we do...
we hope you laugh and we hope that you sigh, when you think of those days far gone by.
How would you survive sleeping on bedrolls and walking creaky stairs?
How would you survive living a hundred years ago?

Low Stress Farming

Dear Farmer came in yesterday and did his electrician thing. Wired up the outlets for a brilliant chuck wagon, the "sock" and the "shoe". Then we took a walk in the garden with children howling beside us (they are the local natives). He decided to get gas and took three daughters with him. When he came home, it still wasn't bedtime. What is this strange life? We call it " low stress".  No need for a pot of coffee and an hour of pacing to get worked up enough to walk out the door. No bombardment of phone calls or emails. For anyone wondering if it's worth it to make a major lifestyle change or have a stroke...do the change!!!

What we changed to:
Pay cut
Tiny house
Smaller herd
Bigger garden
More time
New job
Moved location

No Regrets!

Dear Farmer's New Day Job

So, we kinda left you hanging.  We were hanging too...
but now we know what's going on!

Dear Farmer has left the fields full time to tackle another aspect of farming, while the family farms during the day.  Dear Farmer's new day job is at an organic soybean processing plant.  What's he doing?  He's running the plant.  Actually, he's firing up the machines and running the soybeans to them in order for the machines to process the soybeans.  BY HIMSELF!  {sigh, he's so amazing!}
While Dear Farmer is gone during the day the Wife and the children are farming the garden, preparing for the goats and the chickens, and cutting a lot of grass.  The "Sock" and the "Shoe" suit us very perfectly, we find.  We are people that like to be out-doors rather than in-doors.  We like to spend time together, rather than cleaning.  And we are minimalists...well, some of us more than others.

The largest challenge of Dear Farmer's new position...we are in a location that doesn't have internet.
The Wife didn't know how much email was  part of life.  And grabbing information off the world wide web. And GPS. Messaging.  Blogging. 
It's a bit of a pain, but everything has challenges.

Like Dear Farmer's new day job, a job he's never done before. Never even thought it existed.  But he's doing it to spend more time doing what he loves most...spending time with his family, and farming.

I love this Dear Farmer!

Blogging Standing Up

The joys of moving include...Blogging Standing Up.  Literally the chair has been packed, but not the computer...yet.  Is it possible for a large family to move in ten days?  Answer: yes.  However, that "yes" comes at an expense.  Little sleep, the children being out of the house, no meals being made, or ate, and no social activities what-so-ever!  So, for each piano lesson add one day more of packing.  If you have to even think of breakfast, add four hours more of packing.
We are twenty-four hours away from our goal of being done packing in ten days. Now, breakfast is going to be REAL interesting...because I have no idea of whether or not I have pots...I think the Haus Frau packed them...
Next blog in a week from "The Shoe"!
Keeping Calm and Farming On....

Jell-O: part of the Tapestry of Family

There is an art in the family that appears on the buffet line at every family gathering...the Jell-O.
In our family, the Jell-O rarely comes plain...there's always an additive.  The additive makes it stretch further, and gives it some sort of health(maybe). The Amazing Farm-Wife tells me she will only use a couple boxes of the gelatin concoction...so the additive is that much more important.
Here's the Jell-O's we know best:
Lime with cabbage shredded in
Lime with cottage cheese mixed in
Orange with cottage cheese mixed in
Orange and Lime both got carrots and sliced celery
Pineapple mixed in with just about any flavor

Our family has a special list of favorites, because there's people that we have had over for dinner that do not understand/like the wonderful taste of cabbage shredded into their Jell-O:
Raspberry with Raspberry Pie Filling
Peach with Peach Pie Filling
Blue with Blueberry Pie Filling
Strawberry with (did you guess it?) Fresh strawberries!

Old-timers remember Jell-O plain gelatin with veggies and hard boiled eggs in a wonderful visual display, but it takes a little getting used to for younger people...

Regardless how the Jell-O comes, it's always served with love, laughter, and a whole bunch of great people!

Threads of a Multi-Generational Family

There's lots of great things about being part of our big family.  But the Wife's favorite part is that there's a bunch of people!  Grandma, the Amazing FarmWife, had just left the arena of "mother of little children" when us older grandchildren were born.  Thus creating a multi-generational family setting for all of us to grow up in. The Wife was growing up with Aunts and Uncles, our Great-Grandmother was a presence in our daily lives.
It was always an adventure to go to Grandma's house...with her revolving door.  First one there got the beds!  As a younger child, I just prayed we'd be late, so I could sleep in the living room on the floor and listen to my mother and her siblings stay up late and laugh as they told stories!

 Three of the Wife's favorite movies are: Cheaper by the Dozen(1950 film), With Bells on their Toes(1952 film), and My Big Fat Greek Wedding(2002 film).
(The first two are books also, read the books!!! The movie, however, was good as well.)
The reason these were/are the Wife's favorites are because of the family situations, and close to real life!
When Frank Gilbreth, Sr. answers the question: are these all your children?  And he says, "Yes, they are, and it's NO PICNIC!" About him children are hooting and hollering...That's the Wife's life on a daily basis now...but I am sure the Amazing FarmWife had her own moments of chaos.
Films that mirror our own lives and give laughter to all the hard times we weren't laughing at; that's therapy.

Upcoming we have a wedding in the family...it's the first wedding in a long time. A family tradition is to compose a song to sing to the Bride and Groom, based on their favorite musical...a tradition that was started some twenty years ago.  The more family who comes to the wedding, the more singers there are.  Sometimes the crew has even had time for props and choreography.
We watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding with Uncle Photographer-he's all excited about another new family tradition: spitting on the bride.  All this time, we had no idea our family was so Greek!

The best parts of being in a large family are bunches and bunches of people!  In our family, that's bunches of laughter, bunches of love, and bunches of support in every and all situations.  All these threads, woven into a beautiful tapestry of Family.

A Mission and a Message

Honorable Son No. 1 has always been a "man with a mission".
His catch phrase is, "Living the American Dream!"
What is that????  Check it out on his blog...farmingthedream.com
I know that you'll enjoy it as much as we do!

Country Hospitality: Example E

Part of Country Hospitality is making sure that you don't care what the other person looks like...the Wife had just gotten out of her robe and thrown her hair helter-skelter(not suburb ready by any means, not even a lick of make-up on!) The neighbor was a little more polished than the Wife.  She had been to the store.
She lives down the road quite a way.
She drives past the farm everyday, saw that we were outside and thought, "Today is it! I'm stopping!"
So glad she did.
She grew up on a beef cattle ranch in N Dakota.  Where her oldest brother(who just turned 80) carries on.  His son, in his 60s is trying to convince his dad it might be time to take it a little slower.  At least, just ride the ATV, instead of the horses, to check the fence lines. She's the youngest of 12 children!  Most of them still live in N Dakota, she's one of the few who doesn't and misses being there with the family.
She made this comment, I think you'll love: "Farming works this way. You clock in when you're five and you clock out when you die."
She's right.  I gets in your blood.  The hardwork, the ethic, the appreciation, the smell of fresh air, the quiet of the breeze and sound of the grass.
It's a great place to raise a family, that's for sure!
Now her son, grown with a family of his own, raised on his parents small farm down the road-lives in town. Guess what he does every weekend?  Takes his children to the farm.  So they can grow up with a taste of what he grew up with, which is what she considered so important, with a taste of what her father considered the most important way to raise his family.
Apparently she's familiar with Country Hospitality...because she drove up in the driveway and popped out to have a chat.

Things...they are a changin'....

Change is a tough thing.

The world changes seasons, we grow up, grow older, grow wiser, dye our hair, go gray...
In our world right now, we are changing locations.

We have lived in the North for our entire marriage.  We are now moving South.  It's not in the deep south.  It's the northern part of a central state that is south of where we currently are.
The move, in this case, gives us time.
Time...something we never have enough of...
The move gives us four extra weeks of growing season a year.  Deep dark and rich soil.
More time to grow in the garden...more time to grow hay...more time to enjoy life.
The vision is the same.
The people will be the same.
The location will be different.

Change.  Sometimes people run from it.
We are embracing it!

The Bear Cub Puppy Grows Up

Yesterday the Haus Frau Farmer's Daughter had a long and beautiful day to spend outside.  She spent it out there with the former "bear cub" puppy, 'Mate. 'Mate has grown into a ruggedly handsome aussie-teen.  He's tall, sleek, and has just enough puppy left in his face to call him "adorable" as well.
The Haus Frau Farmer's Daughter has been teaching him not to jump up on anything...
this is a huge ordeal for this breed.  The instinct of the Australian Shepherd is to stand and lean on cattle to move them, if that doesn't work, they move to the front for the nose.
Interestingly enough, no one wants a dog jumping up on them after the rain with muddy paws, or on a Sunday morning as we make a mad dash for the van to get to church on time! Nor does anyone want a dog nipping them at their nose if they aren't doing what it wants.  So, training was necessary on this level.
'Mate has been doing great!
He also has instinct to herd the animals to a location where he can see them all.  This means every chicken that goes behind the garage, the house, or in the woods is getting flushed out and driven home. 'Mate is quite the task master, we've watched chickens pant because he won't stop.
Of course, the Haus Frau is finding that 'Mate demands her attention at all times.  There's no downtime for a working dog-until the sun goes down.  He loves working all day!  Doesn't matter what the weather, doesn't matter if the Haus Frau has sniffles, or would really rather go to see a movie.
Responsibilities always come first on a farm!
The Haus Frau Farmer's Daughter is doing good at training her first farm puppy/dog. It hasn't been the "cake walk" she thought it'd be, but she's making it a sweet time anyways!