long time, no see... and Zinnia!

Hi there folks!  Yes, it's been quite some time since I have written here.  Life is so full, and every moment so precious, with a toddler, two big kids, a small farmstead, homeschooling, and animals - both big and small - concurrently tugging at my every spare moment.  To all those parents out there who seem to magically pull it all off every day and make it look so easy.... I tip my hat to you.  Damn, this sure aint easy.  Ahem.  Onward!

Allow me to introduce to you, Zinnia cow, our latest family member and supplier of all things dairy.

She's a rather petite Jersey cow with a sweet, if not a little pushy, personality and just the right amount of milk for our little family of five.  Zinnia joined us back in June and to be totally honest, I'm still adjusting to life with a dairy animal, especially as the weather has turned cold and wet and the days so very short.

I'm still getting used to the invisible milky tether that keeps me within arm's reach of the farm at all times, the achy muscles in my palms that I didn't even know existed until I began hand milking every day, and loads of rich, creamy milk that occupy nearly all of the real estate in my refrigerator and requires near daily processing to keep up with.  As a lifelong vegetarian and former vegan, it still cracks me up and shocks me to open my fridge door and discover So. Much. Milk.

Despite how much work this beautiful animal has added to my life, it's pretty awesome to watch my family consume and thrive on her raw dairy goodness.  The milk, the butter, the yogurt (oh my god, the yogurt), and the cheese.  My cheese making skills are still in the budding stage, but I have high hopes for full blooming maturity someday.  Ah, yes, someday.

I'll leave you with this rough video taken with the camera clenched between my knees as I attempted to simultaneously milk and record.  Enjoy!

And, I hope to see you again here soon!

Lunch

Ummm, yeah.  I am going to write a post about my lunch today.  Because it was that good.

My midday meal consisted of a scramble that was made, pretty much entirely, of things I grew or raised (the exceptions being the oil, salt and pepper I used in the cooking).  I had a veggie scramble made from: eggs collected from my chickens, milk from my cow, and broccoli, spinach and three types of kale all harvested from the garden moments before being tossed into the pan.  I washed it all down with tea brewed from calendula, lemon balm and mint harvested as the water boiled.  And for dessert... freshly made raw milk yogurt from our cow with raspberries still warm from the sun-drenched thicket.

Oh yes.  This was a lunch for the record books!

What a day!

I am so bone tired after the most amazing day. 

I spent the morning and most of the afternoon working alongside and learning a ton from the manager of a local dairy.  We bought one of her beautiful Jersey cows last weekend (more on that later!) and she graciously welcomed me under her wing today to indoctrinate me into the world of cow care.  I know the simple basics from keeping our Dexters for the last year, but thanks to my experience today, my knowledge and confidence have taken a major soaring leap skyward!

My day at the dairy began with this sweet boy... a little bull calf born two days ago.  This poor little guy wandered off from his mama yesterday and got lost in the heat.  It took a couple of hours of people searching high and low for him before he was found hunkered down in a small space between two buildings.  Today he was somewhat worse for the wear and was suffering from a bit of heat exhaustion.  So, I got to learn about signs of weakness in a calf, how to assess the severity of weakness and lethargy, and how to treat such symptoms.  Having him adorably suck on my thumb while waiting for his bottle of electrolytes wasn't so bad either!  He was so soft and floppy and cute, I could hardly tear myself away from him!  And yet, there were shots, IV's, rectal exams, oral drenches and more calling my name.....

Without going into the grizzly and (at times) gross details of my bovine education, suffice it to say that I learned so much.  And I am so very grateful for the bump up the learning curve.  I feel so much more comfortable in my role as cow owner and caretaker.  (I can't wait to share more about our latest family member!)

My day plowed ahead through the unusually hot and humid evening air as I milked out our new cow, grateful for the box fan blowing on both of us and keeping the flies away.  I raced back up the hill after milking and evening chores to do a quick change of clothes and head out to the Hood Canal for a wonderful sunset dinner by the water, overlooking the Olympic Mountains, with both immediate and extended family.  And then, I had the wonderful pleasure of laughing hysterically as our minivan, stuffed to capacity, rocked our backwoods country roads as all six people over the age of 16 months sang nonsensical children's songs at the top of our lungs for the entire car ride home.

And now... to bed, to sleep... in a house full of open windows inviting in the cooler nighttime air... with a head full of newly gained knowledge... and a heart full of gratitude for such an amazing day.

Mountain of Dreams

A week ago I dumped and mixed 45 pounds of seed in my trusty, rusty old wheelbarrow.  A veritable mountain of dreams took shape in the gaping maw of that rickety work horse....

  

 The dream of a pasture of our own took shape right before my eyes.  Now I look on in hopeful wonder and watch carefully as the tiny green sprouts rooted in passion reach for the light.

Funk

I'm in a funk.  A slump.  A rut.  The proverbial dark cloud.  The embodiment of ugh.

And honestly, I've no right to be....

We have just returned from a wonderful family vacation to Northern California.  My children are all happy and healthy.  The tomatoes are up to my waist and loaded with flowers.  Some even have tiny fruit.  The calendula patch is bursting with flowers.  The first round of harvest is even in the dehydrator as I type this.  The raspberry thicket is abuzz with thousands of bees (of both the honey and bumble persuasion).  The fruit has set on the apple and pear trees.  The chickens are back into their full-blown springtime abundant laying routine.  And the list goes on.

Yet, here I sit.  Grumpy.  Moody.  Gloomy, even.

So... what could possibly be the problem?  I'll tell you.  It's the lack of sun.  I'm so ready for summer and consistently sunny days, I could explode.  The pacific northwest rainforest may be beautiful...  yes, quite beautiful indeed... but, what it is decidedly not is sunny.  I am a tried and true worshiper of said almighty powerful sky being.  Without his golden light, I'm kind of losing my mind. 

After a nice stretch of blue skies in our neck of the woods, followed immediately thereafter by a trip to gloriously sunny Sonoma County California, my psyche is set for sunshine!  NPR just told me to expect consistently cloudy skies with a chance of rain for the foreseeable future as I typed that last sentence - ugh.

Dear Mr. Sun, please come out and play....
Please come and lift my blues away!

Soul food

We got the tractor and tiller here again today, to do second and final till.  Woot!  Steve frantically spread the second round of amendments for me the morning that he left for India!  And, I got a last minute delivery of about 12 yards of manure this morning and dumped them into the new garden area.  Spread it with the tractor while it was here.  Phew!  I wish I could’ve gotten more, but that was about all I could swing for now.

back pasture before second till

The skin on my hands is turning to sandpaper from hauling so many rocks.  My goodness do we ever have some seriously rocky soil.  Holy moley.   

the soil in the new garden before second till - look at all those rocks!

Luckily this second till seems to be dropping the rocks back down below the surface (whereas the first till brought them all up).  That will make for a much, much better seedbed for the pasture seed.  I was looking at the ground last week and feeling a little worried and discouraged.  But, it’s looking much more hospitable and promising now.  Thank goodness… I had visions of patchy pathetic pasture, something reminiscent of a balding chia-pet with fleas.  But, not anymore.  It’s looking much better, indeed.  

same spot after second tilling

the new garden area (the duck pond is just on the other side of that soil mound on the right)

front pasture

Holding down the homestead while Steve is in India is going pretty smoothly so far.  The big kids are being extra helpful and the sunshine makes it all feel so nice and dreamy.  I really think that sunshine is the key to happiness and well-being.  That stuff is magic, for real.  

Moonlight’s not so bad either!  Last night, I finally got around to the cows at about 9:00pm.  At first, before making it out the door, I felt exhausted and mildly frustrated.  But, I think it took all of about 5 seconds basking in the moonlight to turn my spirits right around.  It was glorious out there!  Jade snuggled warmly on my back, the moon huge and glowing bright in the dark night sky, the pasture bathed in silver light… it was like a dream.  It was so beautiful, in fact, that rather than rushing back inside (as I usually would have doing evening chores that late) I lingered about for quite a while, moseying here and there around the homestead.  Good thing, too -  I discovered a raccoon in the compost and chased him away before he decided to terrorize my chickens!  Anyway… moonlight is most definitely also a tonic for the soul (especially for us rainforest dwellers who rarely get clear night skies).  While I left the house for cow duty feeling wiped out and ready for bed, I found myself only moments later buzzing with energy and excitement to be out wandering in the moonlight.  I would have stayed out there much longer if it hadn’t been for the very sleepy, diaperless, jammieless baby tucked onto my back.  Ah, yes, sleep was most definitely calling his name.

Spring is definitely taking hold in my soul.  The longer days feel so good, as do the earlier mornings, the increasing number of clear and sunny days, the soil staining my fingers, the peeps of baby chicks and ducklings, and the unmistakable surge of energy that pushes me to do just a little bit more each day.  Giving thanks.

Clinging

Poor little man is in a very mama-centric clingy phase.  Wants all sorts of mama, however he can get it.  It’s making me crazy, but I’m trying to remember that it’s temporary.  It too shall pass… and I should love it up - all the clinging - while I’ve got it.  Someday, after all, he might tell me to talk to the hand.

Yes. This will, in fact, pass.  It just takes time.  Once again, in the very near future, he will evolve through this developmental milestone and feel more secure in the world.  He will not need to wrap his body around my calves, wailing and looking desperately up at me while I attempt to cook… every. single. time.  He will not throw himself to the ground sobbing anytime I leave (even momentarily) the room.  He will not beg to be held constantly, pointing and saying, “Ah!”, at everything he sees forever.  This is temporary.  And, I too can adapt.  I do not need to feel so frustrated, like I can’t even breathe on my own, let alone get something done.  I can take deep breaths in the moments of tightening throat and clenching jaw.  I can use that breath to guide my energy down, to bring my awareness and attention to the small and developing being in my arms, to remind me to slow down and take it all in stride.  

 Look closely at him, mama.  Hug him a little tighter, mama.  

He will not be little forever.  He will not need me like he does now for much longer at all, in fact.  Soon, very soon, his words will come to him.  His, “ah, ah, ah”, will shift, and like magic, carefully chosen words will spill out in their place.  He will tell me with unwavering certainty what, exactly, it is that he wants or needs.  His desire to be held will become less and less as his curiosity to explore the world around him grows more and more.  And, as the ground settles from this developmental earthquake that is rocking his world right now and the pieces fall into place, I will find standing before me a boy… no longer a baby.  A big boy, ready to take on the world.   

Now, mama, the question is… are you ready to let go?