Goodbye, Winter

Winter is officially over. Happy Spring! We have spent the past two months enjoying a REAL snow, pruning our eight fruit trees, grapes and berry patch, weeding the garden for spring planting, wondering if we're feeding our cows enough and if they are really pregnant, caring for twelve baby chicks and building the coop for them to move into in a few weeks, basking in the glorious warmth of Arizona, celebrating and reflecting on one year with Rosalie, and ringing in Elisabeth's sixth year.

Snow

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, 
that it kisses them so gently? 
And then it covers them up snug, 
you know, with a white quilt? 
and perhaps it says 'Go to sleep darlings, 
till the summer comes again.' "
~ Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass 

Poor Rosalie with her little size 2 nubs for feet…
they don't make snow boots that size, 
so she was not able to partake in the snow fun.

Caleb was in Chicago for three days and it dumped snow the entire time he was away. We had over a foot by the time he returned to us. It was spectacularly beautiful and we closed off one of the pastures  for sledding. Britton and I had to feed and water the cows twice a day (their water froze very quickly) and for the first time, we let them sleep in the barn. (Actually, we were feeding them from one of the stalls and they pushed their way in and wouldn't leave.) The pipes in the barn burst and water gushed for 24 hours. Caleb tried to explain (from Chicago) where to turn it off, but the amount of knobs and pipes in this place is astounding. I was in the attic of the shop turning knobs like mad when actually the correct knob was in the basement of our house. These things are beyond me.  Times like this are when I solemnly tell Caleb, "Don't ever die." And I mean that for many, many reasons, but life's logistics are certainly one of them.

The perfect sledding hill right on
our own property

Cows
We have received a lot of conflicting information about our cows, and since we are ignorant on the subject, we are often confused. For example, the plan set up for us by the previous owners was that we should allow our cows to give birth, wean their calves after six months and then slaughter the moms and raise the babies. Sounds good, that's what we'll do. But then a "cow" person recently told us that the moms will be too old (nearly three) and not good for anything but hamburger. I don't want 2000 pounds of hamburger. Hmmm… what should we do? Also, the previous owner said he rarely supplemented their grazing and that if you give them hay then that is all they want because they are lazy and being hand-fed hay is much easier than grazing. So we were occasionally giving them hay, but for the most part were just letting them graze. However, they were constantly yelling at us. Let me tell you, it is unsettling to be yelled at by a cow. They would even stalk me, standing outside the kitchen window and yelling at me as I did dishes. It did cause us to wonder if they were getting enough to eat. Thankfully, a kind neighbor (who we've never met) called to tell us that, pardon the intrusion, but he thinks our cows are too skinny. We were so thankful! Now we are feeding them more. (And they still yell at us some, but I think they're mostly just being greedy.)

The Girls… pregnant or not???

The other source of confusion lies in if the cows are really pregnant. Everyone made it sound like if the bull spends time with them, it is a done deal… of course they're pregnant! I know in the human world that is not necessarily the case but apparently with cows matters are much more certain. So we proceeded on that assumption. Now six months later, we are left wondering. I have a strange glitch in my brain where I cannot tell if people have gained weight. Honestly, if you are my friend and you are packing it on, I will be oblivious. I will tell you you look great and I will mean it. This extends even to myself. I am clueless until I see an unfortunate picture of myself (this happened recently and we had a treadmill delivered yesterday - I'm on it!). It is the same with the cows - I can't tell if they're bigger. I've resorted to holding older pictures up to them in an attempt to distinguish any difference. So how do we find out definitively if they are pregnant?  I've googled it and the answer lies in a rubber glove and an arm disappearing up to the elbow. I think we'll just wait and see...

March 4, 2014, Rosalie's One-Year Forever Family Day

I began this blog to chronicle our adoption of Rosalie. Now the adoption is no longer "the" story but an interwoven part of the grander tapestry that is The Williams' Story. She is one of us now and ours is one story. 

A lady working at Home Depot recently said with a laugh,"She looks like she's full of it!" I said, "How did you know???" And she totally is. This girl is spunky, strong-willed, observant, intelligent, and hilarious. I truly believe that her spunk enabled her to survive all that she went through in China. And now, one year later, at least twice a day I look at Rosalie in amazement and thank God that she is ours. I don't do that with my other children,(though of course I love them and am so thankful for them). They came to us in such a normal and natural way that it doesn't regularly inspire awe. But when I look at that sweet face, I see a miracle. I see the very Hand of God moving through time and space and circumstances to bring us together. I see Redemption and Grace and the way He cares for the individual. I see a Divine Plan for a life that once appeared bleak, Hope for a future that once appeared grim. I cannot wait to see how God is going to use her spunk for His glory.   

Gifts

December is long passed, but the beauty of her gifts is fresh in my mind. 

Gift #1

Since nearly the first moment I knew the little farm on Riverdale Road would be ours, I have longed to see it in the snow. How would the treed hills surrounding our property look from my kitchen window? What would our enormous grassy yard look like covered in white? Where would the kids sled? Knowing the sporadic nature of Oregon winters, I was prepared to wait a year or two, or even longer. But God is so sweet, and only seven weeks into life here, I glimpsed my first views of Winter Wonderland and all my questions were answered:

The view of the hills

The view from my kitchen

The view of the yard

Where the kids sledded

The snow remained for a whole week 
because of frigid, dry weather.

Admittedly, it was not a huge amount of snow, but it was enough, and we loved it. Tomorrow it appears we may get another batch… we shall see! 

Gift #2

March 4, 2013

When I first held Rosalie in my arms eleven months ago, I had a fleeting moment of fear. She was malnourished and not doing anything that a ten month old baby should be doing. What would the future look like? But almost as quickly as it came, the fear departed, never to return. The Lord gave me a peace that He had placed Rosalie in our family and that our job was to love her and help her reach her full potential, whatever it would be. And from that moment on, I have honestly not been worried about which developmental milestones she was missing or what she wasn't doing compared to other children her age. I understood she was on her own timeline and I knew in my heart, she was going to be just fine. However, I was curious as to when she would begin walking, and as she started passing various milestones the thought kept coming, "Maybe she'll walk by Christmas…" It was a very arbitrary date to pick but the thought was persistent. 

Christmas Eve, always a special day 
in the Williams' house, but extra 
special with our little Rosalie taking 
her first steps and experiencing her 
first Christmas.

Well, Christmas Eve, which is also my birthday, arrived, and it happened: Rosalie toddled around on shaky legs for the first time. I was giddy with happiness! But as I am prone to do, I tried to second guess the timing and tell myself it was a coincidence, rationalize away God's good and perfect gift. However, I could not escape the truth of it: He did this just for me. Of all the days Rosalie could have taken her first steps, she did it on my birthday and one day before I had hoped in my mind that she would. God, your love and grace amaze me. What a sweet, sweet gift. 

Gift #3

Months before we even purchased a home in the country, I saw a picture of a sign on Pinterest that said: "Slow. Free Range Children". The sign happened to be posted in the most charming town in existence, Castle Combe, England, which only added to it's perfection. I resolved that if our country dream ever came true, I would have that sign on our property. When we moved, I scoured the internet for a place to buy a sign like that, but there were none. Caleb commented that I should just make one. Yeah… I hear about people who do such things, but I'm not one of them. Maybe I could… but when would I get around to it? The subject was dropped. And then for my birthday, this with a ribbon around it:

And now when you drive up our driveway, you are duly warned:

I love my husband so, so much.

Gift #4

The other item I have always dreamed of having is a big wooden swing on an old oak tree. I have mentioned this occasionally throughout our 14+ years of marriage and my sweet husband took notice. The week before Christmas and my birthday, Caleb's shop was like Geppetto's Workshop, but I couldn't imagine what he was up to. When I received the sign on Christmas Eve, I assumed that was the extent of his creations. This is what I was presented with on Christmas Day:

 Caleb carved "Fly High" into the seat
and the kids' initials into the four corners.

Caleb said he wants me to smile
every time I see it, and I do.

The towering old oak
 its arms gnarled and lovely
(a line of poetry I wrote many 
years ago in my poetic days)

Every good and perfect gift is from above, 

coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,

 who does not change like shifting shadows.

James 1:17

Country Living

Live in each season as it

passes; breathe the air, 

drink the drink, taste the 

fruit, and resign yourself to

the influence of each.

~Henry David Thoreau

Blessed. Carrying a bowl of kitchen scraps out to my compost pile today, I barely held it together. I stepped outside into blinding sunshine, the low, lazy kind that only appears this near the winter solstice. A chill wind blew my hair back and spun the metal windmill wildly. The cows briefly glanced up from their grazing disinterestedly, for I am a familiar sight to them now. Affectionately, my sweet (new-to-us) golden retriever, Brody, heeled at my side as we crossed the large grassy area, passed the apple trees (with only a few stubborn apples left clinging just above arm's reach) to my enclosed garden. I paused. And I did breathe the air, as Thoreau recommends. It brought tears to my eyes. Thank you, Lord, I whispered. But beyond that, words escaped me.

We are here. The past five weeks we have worked hard to settle in and usually fall into bed exhausted at night, but I love-love-love it. All of our hard work has been tempered by the joy of waking up each morning in this incredible setting. I will never forget those first few days looking out my kitchen window and seeing MY cows grazing in the pasture just below. Would I ever get used to the sight of it, I wondered? Actually, I already have. Will the novelty of tucking a large straw basket under my arm and walking out to pick apples from my own trees ever wear off? So far, no, it delights me completely each time. 

With boxes stacked around me and chaos around every corner, the apples were ripe and ready. "What would a true farm girl do?" I pondered. A voice deep within me said, "The harvest waits for no man (or woman!)." I contemplated the wisdom of this. True, I can unpack any time, but the apples are ready NOW. So... I incorporated apples into our daily routines. I have canned 50 quarts of applesauce, 15 pints of apple butter, dehydrated several gallon bags of apple slices*, carefully selected and prepared apples for winter storage and still given many boxes of apples away. But proudly, I can say that very few have gone to waste.

 *I want to give props to my dear husband who actually has been the sole dehydrator after I took my thumb down to the nerve cutting my very first apple on the mandolin slicer. I won't touch the device now so he has been the one doing all the dehydrating. (I guess that can be considered our first "farm injury", as I was processing the harvest.)

The Girls

After only three days on the farm, Britton announced that he does not want to slaughter the cows. We had a long talk about the purpose of farm animals, blah, blah, blah… Actually, I'm more fond of them than I expected to be too. They were bottle-fed as calves so they are exceptionally friendly to humans. They run up to the fence when we come near and love when we throw them fallen apples (see, they're not going to waste!). One day, I even witnessed them tenderly grooming each other. It was a sweet sight. I'm pleased I can finally tell them apart and we call them Girl #1 and Girl #2. (Every city slicker knows you don't name livestock, right??)

The Girls should be pregnant, but I'm not sure how to tell for sure. They look the same size as always. A week before we moved in the bull was still in pasture with them and we were at the property chatting with our neighbor, the bull's owner. She mentioned that George (the previous owner) wanted the bull to stay an extra week "to make sure the job was done". She said confidently, "Well, I can tell by looking at him that he's done!" Caleb and I whipped our heads around in unison and beheld a very mellow bull gnawing on grass. I suppose he looked satisfied, but how would I know? Could she really tell? It gave me pause (and still gives me a private chuckle every time I think about it) as I wondered if we will ever know our animals so well. 

This is a neighbor who has cows and horses and who is very knowledgeable about farm animals. I am grateful she is across the street for any questions that may arise and I told her so. In this same conversation she asked about our plans for the property. "Are you going to do get horses or maybe some kids?" she asked.  I said in full seriousness, "Well, I'm not really a horse person and we already have four kids we'll be bringing out here." 

Yes, I really did. 

As soon as I said it, I thought, "I don't think that's what she meant." She was gracious enough not to correct me, but sure enough, later in the conversation she was a little more explicit by bringing up G-O-A-T-S.  Well, at least she knows what she's working with here. 

We are very well and so thankful to be here! I'll leave you with a few snapshots of our new life that have blessed my heart:

         

On the Move, Part II

I need to stop saying never to things. Honestly, I think that is the lesson God has been impressing on me most clearly the past three years. A friend recently told me she never knows what to expect when she talks to me, which previously firmly held certainties I may be contemplating abandoning. We had a good laugh about it and she mentioned the notion of "holding things loosely". Yes, that is exactly what I'm learning. Here is a short list of things from the recent past that I have said I would never do and that I have had to humbly retract:

*wear skinny jeans
*run a half-marathon
*homeschool (probably the thing I felt MOST confident saying never to. Haha! I'm pretty passionate about homeschooling now.)
*expand our family (I was pretty certain we were complete after Charlie)
*move from this home that I LOVE so completely

This post will focus on that last never.

I never thought I would leave this house because I designed it, I love it, and I would not change anything about it. Mostly though, I thought I'd never leave because I am so grateful for the blessing of it and this house is enough - so much more than enough. I have told God one hundred times that if this is where He would have us forever, I am fine with that. This house was such a gift and I would never want the Giftgiver to think me ungrateful. However, I'm learning that being content, yet holding things loosely is a fine balance. What if He has more for us?  What if He leads us on to something, not necessarily "bigger and better" as the American Dream would teach us we should strive for, but something terrifyingly new and dream-fulfillingly different?

I've had a dream for a very long time. Not a secret, exactly, but not something I ever thought would come true. Not because I couldn't pursue it but because it seemed too hard, and I was not sure I really, truly wanted it. I actually chose not to pursue it because I was afraid I had idealized it, romanticized it, and for many years I probably had.

And then about a year ago, I read "7: an Experimental Mutiny Against Excess" by Jen Hatmaker and was challenged to re-evaluate the consumer-driven life I was leading. I started thinking about what and how much I was purchasing and where it was coming from. Just for fun, I started reading books like How to live on Almost Nothing and Have Plenty: A Practical Introduction to Small-Scale Sufficient Country Living, by Janet Chadwick and The Self-Sufficiency Life and How to Lead It, by John Seymour. I read inspiring blogs like The Prairie Homestead and On Just a Couple Acres. I started canning, buying organic whenever possible, and making my own laundry soap, eye-makeup remover and "no-poo" for my hair (just google it). I hardly knew myself anymore. 

Finally, I read Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature Deficit Disorder, by Richard Louv, and was deeply disturbed by the notion that this current generation, the generation that my children belong to, is the first in history to be so fully plugged in electronically and so wholly unconnected from nature. I suddenly had a vision for the life I wanted my family to have and I was no longer afraid of the hard work that inevitably would be ours if we pursued it. The miracle is that Caleb was given the same vision at the same time and that God opened doors and has orchestrated details in a way that allows me to know this is His plan for our family:

8 acres (5 pastured and 3 forested), a former goat farm with a barn and several out-buildings, the shop and tractor of my husband's dreams, a house that is not my dream but is solid, well-kept and has much potential, a charming vegetable garden - fully fenced to keep deer out, a long gravel driveway (how quaint is the crunch of gravel under tires!), 6 apple trees, 2 pear trees, a plum tree and cherry tree

All of this is ours, including the cows, and if the neighbor's bull has done his job this past month, we will have two calves in late spring. Don't worry Mama Cows, I've purchased our very own copy of Storey's Guide to Raising Beef Cattle and there is a whole chapter on calving. I'm sure we'll be fine...       

People ask me if either Caleb or I have farm experience or if we grew up on property. That draws a resounding, "NO! NONE!" And to tell the truth, I'm not really an "animal person". I grew up with cats and got my first dog after Caleb and I married. I have struggled to love her because she is so very naughty. At 13, her life appears to be winding down and I am at peace with that. (It's been a long 13 years - don't judge!) But I really do want to change and grow in this aspect because I believe I have much to learn about my Creator from living life alongside His creation, specifically, the animals He has provided for our survival and sustenance. My attitude towards animals reminds me of something CS Lewis said in The Aboliton of Man about his feelings toward children:

“I, myself, do not enjoy the society of small children . . .

 I recognize this as a defect in myself—just as a man may

 have to recognize that he is tone deaf or colour blind.” 

I do believe it is a defect in me, and hopefully God will help change my heart and enable me to take exceptional care of the animals He entrusts us with. And more to the point, that I would do so with a "happy heart", as I so often encourage in my kids. 

The Dreamgiver is on the move and we are following. Two weeks from now, we will be loading up the truck and heading just 10 minutes south. But when we unload the truck we will be stepping in to a completely different way of life. I know the learning curve will be steep (I just hope all animals survive the learning process), I know the wallpaper is really ugly, I know I will fret over that infamous calving scene from City Slickers way too often, but we are SO excited!!! 

  

  

On the Move, Part I

I have been considering a resurrection of the blog because, once again, I sense the Dreamgiver is on the move. I know in my 6 month silence I have lost any faithful followers I may have had. But I trust you will find me again, or, if not, that I at least will benefit from the time spent here. Writing is good for my soul. It helps me sift through facts and feelings and settle on truth. It is a tangible way to document the Lord's goodness in my life, and once on paper, it is irrevocable and anchors deep within me. So I will write for my edification and His pleasure. But if you are here with me as well, WELCOME!

6 Months Home with Rosalie Faith

Who is this girl? She is certainly not the same 12 pound baby I last shared with you. We have spent the past 6 months learning about her, taking her to many, many appointments, helping her recover from surgery, falling in love with her, teaching her new things, and watching her fully become a part of our family. There have been discouragements, but many more victories, which I can only attribute to the power of prayer. I am so thankful for the way God has brought us through each and every step and challenge with her. She is still a wee thing (after 6 months, she's finally outgrowing her 3-6 month clothes - yay!), but proportionate and healthy. I'll never forget the day I held her on my lap in church and teared up because she had little rolls on her arms. Of course, now there is no holding her in chuch because she is much too loud and active. She is crawling and getting into drawers and cupboards. We have overcome huge hurdles related to her mouth and she is now putting everything in there (including food - Thank you, God!). I never thought I'd be relieved to have to worry about Legos on the floor, but I am!   

Are you wondering how we've bonded? Is she attached to me? YES, VERY! It has been a beautiful thing to experience going from being just another set of friendly arms that she would gladly go to (but she would go to anyone) to being the ONE and ONLY Mama.

 I love this girl. She has become a true daughter and I praise God for letting it be so.

And what do the 3 Amigos think about her?

They adore her! I still have to referee fights daily over who gets to play with her and Britton often says, "I'm glad Rosalie is my sister," and just today he said, "When I was playing with Rosie just now, she really felt like my sister." His comment reminds me what a process this whole experience has been and that there is no shame in that. Some things cannot be rushed and that is okay. My children have been more intuitively at peace with that than I. It has been humbling to witness them, at times when my patience is failing, show more grace and love than I feel capable of giving in the moment. "And a little child shall lead them..." has become a familiar refrain in my life. 

Rosalie has journeyed long and hard in her first 17 months. This little girl is a fighter, but mostly she is a lover, and that amazes me. I am praying her path becomes smooth and straight, but at least now, whatever comes, she will never journey alone.   

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;    

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

~Lamentations 3:22-23