Month: March 2015

Sunny Treat

Lincoln doesn’t get to play with our phones.  We grew up just fine without them.  The kid doesn’t need to be glued to a screen for his entire childhood.  But there is one exception where he gets to play with a phone…..a haircut. It’s the only thing that will keep him still enough to sit through a haircut from his amateur hairdresser of a mother. We turn on guided access so nothing is deleted and he sits perfectly still. We cut his hair outside under the warm sunshine.  Another weird hatching of flies has occurred, so we had to make it quick and I had to keep swatting them away.  I also cut the bejesus out of my finger.  I couldn’t finish the haircut.  He only napped for 40 minutes today, he’s still cutting his teeth, so he was completely bent out of shape by the end of it.  He was screaming bloody murder as we started to draw his bath, I took off his diaper so he could streak through the house (a favorite pastime …

Not Furtherance

We didn’t get anything done this weekend.  Because of showers, surprise birthday parties, life, and the weather.  50 mph wind gusts kept slapping the house today as Linc and I napped.  Linc is in the process of cutting his canine teeth, so he has officially earned the title of Mr. Fussy and I the title of  Resting Bitch Face Mom. We did get a pole installed for our mailbox.  The previous owners had a P.O. Box, so we have to let the concrete set and then get the actual mailbox in place.  Here we come, 19th century! We did bust out Linc’s teepee for a distraction this afternoon.       We still don’t have a fully functioning stove/oven.  It takes 20 minutes to boil water and a half hour for the oven to come up to temperature.  We’re in the process of thinking about built-in bookshelves and a desk for our office.  The room we’re using as an office doesn’t have a closet, so we’re still pretty much in boxes in that room.  Otherwise, we’re slowing …

Holes

Woof. It has been a busy week on the farm.  We are still getting used to a new routine and unpacking our lives. All 432,988 boxes of it. That last number may have been an exaggeration. Today we got the holes dug for our hoop house.  We are EXTREMELY behind on getting seeds started, because we had to do that whole moving thing.  But we’re getting closer to actually planting and putting our money where our mouth is. Or our home-grown food where our mouth is. See what I did there? My dear husband puts up with so much.  He willingly spent a lot of time hanging the collage of photos that go in Linc’s room.  Here he is figuring out the math to make it perfect.   Oh and it takes four times as long to get anything done with the 18-month-old helper that we have. Linc’s room is done except for the other half of the curtains that my mom is making.  Once those are finished, I’ll take pictures of Linc’s complete room.  But in …

Bees, Mud, and the Promise of Spring

On Saturday I had intended to drive to Champaign for my “New Illinois Farmers” class, but since Audra was up all night blowing country-style chunks (and yeah, they’re different than city-style) I needed to stay home to take care of the wee one. Once I got him down for a nap, I decided to run over to check on my apiary to see if my girls (my bees) needed some sugar syrup. I already knew that I had lost two hives, but my third was still going strong a week prior. I got about 100 yards onto the property and as I turned the corner I began to wonder if it was getting a little muddy. Within seconds my little 2WD Escape had sucked its way into the sludge. So, I trekked the next 100 yards, back and forth, until I had all my beekeeping gear in place.  It was lucky that I went when I did, because the girls were literally on their last dregs of honey, most of them burrowed inside the empty …

Spring in Our Step

As the golden sun poured onto us with the wet, sloshy ground beneath our feet, it felt like ours.   My son screeched with excitement when he found two objects he’s never seen before (pine cones) and carried them in his hands throughout our whole walk.   The doubt and regret seemed to slip away with the rushing creek filled with recent snow melt and assurance set in over the grunts of Lincoln’s hustle over the water-logged earth.

We’re Here

We’re in. Somehow, we moved all our furniture and the hordes of stuff we’ve collected over the past seven years of living together.  How can two people accumulate so much in such a short amount of time? We had unbelievable help this weekend.  We had our loved ones willingly give up their entire weekend to help us.  People literally put their blood, sweat, and tears into it.  (and by tears, I mean me ugly crying from pure exhaustion last night). We had to remove a bedroom window to get our box frame in.  My grandmother was on her feet the entire weekend and at one point was on my kitchen floor, mechanic-style trying to fix a broken drawer.  No body complained, everyone was so willing to help.  I couldn’t ask for a better family! (above image courtesy of Cumin Love Paprika) And now we feel like we’re ready to start the next chapter.  The hoop house is in our shed, the seeds are in a box waiting to go in the soil.  So here we go! …

Goodbye, Evergreen.

Just days away from moving to the farm, I’m left with mixed feelings. Tonight I unloaded the dishwasher into the cabinets, the cabinets we screwed into these walls ourselves during our kitchen remodel just a few years ago, and I wondered why I didn’t just load our glasses and plates into boxes instead. It felt good to load up these shelves one last time, even if it was silly. This is just a house. There are probably a hundred almost identical to it in our very neighborhood. Tri-levels are fairly stupid designs. Small rooms, split apart on three different levels, almost no storage to speak of. But I proposed to Audra in the room that is now my son’s bedroom. I learned how to mud drywall and wire outlets in my kitchen. I built my first building in the backyard. We brought our son home from the hospital here and have since spent countless sleep-deprived nights, changed hundreds of diapers, and laughed a thousand laughs at the joys that he brings to our lives. It’s …