August 21, 2017
Back in Staunton with our Little
People and the rush to get it all done for a few days. I can’t believe we kept up this pace for so
long both of us killing ourselves with hard labor and 18-hour days for so many
years. I also can’t believe I took care
of all three of the older grands as often as I did for the first two years (two
and three days a week with all three and then the rest of the week with
Analia). It was a gift they were born
before I turned fifty or I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Rory is not quite five months old and started
crawling yesterday. The doctors didn’t
believe Alissa when she told them that Rory was already rolling over, sitting
up on her own and preparing to crawl.
When the doctor witnessed it for herself, she actually called in the
other doctors and nurses to see it. Our
Rory is a big, strong, happy girl and I pray that she remains that way and
always loves herself for her strengths and not for the physical beauty which
she also possesses. Oh how I wish I could
teach my grandkids that outward beauty fades so quickly and that what matters
is on the inside. In this world that
focuses on the outward appearance, it seems to be one of the most impossible
tasks. I have never considered myself
beautiful but always being in great physical condition and having nice hair
gave me the confidence that I needed to get through. As I age and things change physically, I’m
not in as good shape and my hair is a lot thinner and not so pretty anymore and
I realize how quickly things change and outward beauty fades and one is only
left with what is good on the inside and the good that one can give away to
others. It makes me wonder why I wasted
so many years worrying about the outward appearance instead of having more
fun. Not that I didn’t have fun and
enjoy life. I did plenty of that, but
those little things that seemed to matter so much for so long seem silly when
you reach a certain age. I know I sound
“old” when I write anymore but turning fifty changed so many things for me
physically, mentally and emotionally.
Today is a happy day! My daughter, Alissa, who has been through
many obstacles to get her degree and is two semesters away from her Masters
starts a position as adjunct professor at Blue Ridge Community College. I could not be more proud. She has worked her way through school paying
for it herself while serving as a waitress for 12 years. She has had two little girls and somehow
maintained her grades on top of working.
Happy day for this momma.
August 22, 2017
Yesterday was a busy day for me
with Analia and Rory. The twins were
sick and were not able to come visit. We
always miss them when they can’t come.
Mike mowed down some hay and will work on getting that up. He also dug some of the potatoes. As I mentioned previously, the garden was a
disappointment this year and the potato crop really suffered. Not sure why we had such a bad year but
things have a tendency to work out.
Maybe we just needed the break or maybe that’s what had to happen to get
us to slow down from selling so much produce and working ourselves to
death. The profits from produce sales of
course have been minimal this year because we didn’t go to Verona and
sell. Neither have we opened up
officially to sell at the farm. The
sales we have made have been mostly bulk sales to long standing customers and
the honor system sales to those who happen by and see what’s on the cart
(either in Staunton or at our Southern property).
Alissa’s first day teaching at
Blue Ridge Community College was a difficult one for her. She was so sick with not only a bad cold but
also a migraine and nausea the previous night.
She said she was so out of it that she was sure everyone thought she was
an idiot. Well, I doubt that but I sure
am sorry her first day had to be so hard.
She was so excited after all this time of planning and working towards
her goals. She laughed because she said
her students just looked at her expressionless and did not participate in her
excitement. I do love that girl. Alissa’s husband, Gabino, has had stomach
pain for days and ended up in the emergency room last night with an inflamed
appendix and intestines. They said it
was nothing to worry about and sent him home with antibiotics. I swear I don’t know about the medical system
anymore.
This morning I caught up on a bit
of correspondence and then milked the cows.
I have been only milking Faith, who is a full Jersey. We love her milk and each week I separate her
overnight from her calf and take the milk for our use. Last night, old Char got separated too. She was with Faith and was being stubborn
about moving to the lot where I wanted to put her, so I just left her separated
from her calf for the night as well.
Char is a miniature half Jersey/quarter Angus/quarter Charolais
cross. I milked her for about three
years when she was younger but it’s been about five years since I have milked
her at all. In fact, she was running
with our beef herd for a while until she had difficulty calving year before
last with a huge bull calf and we moved her and the calf back to our house
where I could take care of them and where I could breed her to the Mini Jersey
bull. I wondered how she would do since
she has not been in the stanchion for so long.
Char is pretty stubborn and while she is very short, she is built like a
tank. (Her beef genetics really show
with her wide hips and the amount of weight she carries well.) She was perfect. She walked right into the stanchion and never
lifted a foot when I milked her. Our
only issue was that she did not want to let down her milk and didn’t give me
much. Her calf got plenty when I was
done though! Her milk was clean with no
lumps or mastitis and I am looking forward to tasting it once again after all
these years. In her prime and at her
peak, the little chunk use to give me three gallons per day, which is amazing
for a half beef, miniature cow. Today
she gave me not quite a gallon, but I am sure if I continue to milk her she
will let down and I will get more. The
cows are only on grass unless they are in the stanchion and since she has not
been in the stanchion, she has had no grain.
I was pretty impressed with the old girl. (She must be almost ten now, I believe.)
August 23, 2017
I’m writing this as we drive down
the road again on our way to our Southern Property. I didn’t think we would get away tonight and
that would have been all right but Mike said he would rather travel tonight
than in the morning. I kept the girls
today for about six and a half hours. I
am not sure what Mike did other than I know he got up some more hay. That’s in fact why we were so late
leaving. While I waited on him, I had
opportunity to get the floors swept and mopped.
There’s no sense in doing it at all until after I am through watching
Little People for the week.
This morning when Alissa brought
the kids in, Rory who turned five months old yesterday, smiled with her deep
dimples showing and reached out her arms for me. That just melted my heart. Analia came running up to me so excited that
we both had on skirts. Watching the kids
is a lot of hard work but I am so thankful for the bond that I have with
them. I was fortunate to know two of my
great grandmothers and one of my great grandfathers. My paternal grandmother lived until I was
well into my adult years, and my maternal grandmother is still living. My maternal grandmother is the one I have
always been the closest too. I thought
about her today as the girls responded to me with such excitement. I thought about all the time I spent with my
grandma and grandpa and all the special things they did with us over the
years. They always made me feel so
special and so loved. Even when they
were far away in Alaska and I was growing up in Missouri, their love for me
made a difference. I think the examples
we see as children can serve to help us be better adults. I know many times I think of the things my
grandparents did for me, or the things they said, or the time they spent with
me and it helps me to be a better grandparent to my grandkids. I am thankful I had such good examples in my
life with all my grandparents. Each one
of them was different, but taught me so much.
August 24, 2017
Today was a beautiful day. We stayed all day at our property. It felt so good, just “nesting” as I call it,
enjoying the beautiful weather, and planning for the future. We had ordered a new mattress set to be
delivered. Our Rural Retreat has some
great old beds but the mattresses on them are not so great. We took the worst off to be thrown away and
moved the one from our bed to the “boys” bedroom upstairs and then put the new
set on our bed. Hopefully we will have a
few less aches and pains when we wake in the morning. I use to be able to sleep on the floor or
even on the ground but my bones won’t take that anymore. Of course, with all the moving of mattresses
and box springs, I found plenty of dust and cobwebs underneath the beds and
spent time cleaning while everything was torn apart. We are having a yard sale tomorrow and I
spent a good part of the day pricing items and loading them onto the
trailer. I guess it can’t be considered
a yard sale since we aren’t going to be selling in our yard but we have a spot
out on the main road that a friend is going to let us use. We did have a big disappointment today. We thought we had found someone who would
come and work on our barn. He kept
giving us excuses as to why he couldn’t come out and tonight, after he didn’t
show up, he finally texted us and said he just didn’t want the job. (He hadn’t even looked at the job.) We were very disappointed. We are having a difficult time finding
contractors who want to work.
Alissa told me that Rory tried two
or three times to pull herself up and stand today. That girl is something else. She just turned five months old. Alissa was standing and taking steps at seven
months of age. It will be interesting to
see if Rory does the same.
August 25, 2017
There was a slight chill in the
air last night when I went outside to call my grandmother around 8 pm. (We talk every night and have done so for
about four years now.) I have to walk up
the hill away from the house to get just a bit of a signal so I can call from
our Rural Retreat. Even then, sometimes
I have to sit very still to keep from losing the signal. Last night the weather was clear and we were
able to talk pretty well. I don’t mind
the lack of reliable service here. It’s
nice to be somewhat disconnected from things.
I threw on a jacket last night when I went out and this morning when I
stepped onto the enclosed porch where we have our washing machine, it was quite
cool. It feels like the first hint of
autumn. The seasons come so
quickly. I feel like that is how this
new season of life has come upon Mike and I.
It wasn’t anything we planned to happen this soon.
I woke up this morning thinking
about how blessed I am to be able to communicate with Mike and that we are able
to work together toward common goals. I
guess looking at the barn and planning what we wanted to do with it yesterday
put me in this mode of thought. There
has never been any question of our love for each other but there have often
been questions as to whether Mike and I were able to communicate adequately
enough to really get to the heart of the matter. Our methods and styles of communication are
so different and with that, we always had the hindrance of working ourselves to
the bone and spending very little actual time together. Weariness and frustration are enemies to
communication. Wives of farmers
understand that in order to have a conversation, you have to squeeze it between
some pressing need on the farm and there is always some person, animal or job
that needs your husband worse than you do it seems. I always understood that and accepted it and
although I never would have seen the path that we now follow as part of the
course of our life, I am thankful for it.
I see how much we have grown together in the last year and how our
communication has gone from shallow to deep.
Of course, we still struggle to get our points across sometimes, and we
often of different views or opinions on things, but the growth that our
relationship has taken is such a blessing.
August 26, 2017
I wake early most days. That internal clock just won’t stop and while
I don’t have to get up to milk the cows at 3 am like I did the first year the
grandkids were born, I can’t seem to get past that schedule. Often, I just go ahead and rise, perk my
coffee and sit down to write. This
morning when I awoke at our Rural retreat, I looked up. There is a window at the head of our
bed. The master bedroom is not
exceptionally big and the bed is centered under a window. As I looked up, the stars were so incredibly
bright. Being here reminds me of how
crowded it is in the Valley. I remember
when I left Alaska after living there for 13 years and the huge culture shock
it was to me to find that most of the “Lower 48” states are so crowded with
people that it’s hard to find a quiet spot.
I found some spots out west that were somewhat like Alaska, like parts
of Idaho and Montana, but mostly I just found scores of people wherever I
went. Then, moving to the East Coast, I
found I just couldn’t find a place to get away from people and that has always
been so important to me. I don’t want to
sound like I don’t love people, because the truth is, I do and I’ve always been
sensitive to the needs of others as well as excited for the joys and successes
of others. But, I have always needed the
alone time and a lot of it and I have always needed my time to really breathe
in the natural world. The Jerseys have
truly been my salvation over the last dozen years. Staunton and the Valley are so built up and
crowded with people. Our home sits back
off the road there, but even at night and early morning, there is traffic. Mike tells me there was a time when there
weren’t all the houses around the edge of our property and a time when the road
that goes by his mom’s place was quiet enough that they only saw a few cars a
day. Now you have to be careful not to
get run over pulling out of the driveway.
That’s one of the things that appeals to me so much about our little
Mountain Retreat. Our house actually
sits right off the road and we can see the traffic. There are cars during the day but we laugh,
because it’s like someone has told everyone they need to be in bed by 8 pm
because after dark, the traffic is almost nonexistent. We
sleep with the windows open when the weather permits and we can hear the sounds
of the creek just outside our window.
There’s an owl that likes to make his presence known and we often hear
the raccoons busy in the night. From
where we sit, our fifty acres connects to another farm at the rear. On one side we have a steep, wooded area,
part of it belonging to us and part to neighbors whose property adjoins. It pretty much ensures that that section will
remain uninhabited although I guess it’s not entirely impossible that someday
someone might try to put a cabin on the side of the hill, but I don’t think
it’s likely. To the other side there are
a couple of neighbors but the lay of the land and the trees keep us from seeing
them and mostly from hearing them, although occasionally we hear the one
neighbor’s lawn more. One of those
neighbors only lives here part time. In
front of us the mountains come down into a holler and there is a good bit of
land there. The house on that property
is all the way to the top of the highest ridge and sits a good distance away
from us. We can see it from the very top
of 50 acres but can’t see it or hear it from our house. The man who owns it actually stays at his
place of business further down the road and just keeps his mules at this
property across from us. Sometimes at night
I can hear the mules and they sound like they are right outside our window as
the holler accentuates the sounds. I
hear them snuffling and chewing and the sounds of their hooves on the ground
walking through the grass. They are
magnificent draft animals, well kept, who work pulling wagons and
carriages. I am so thankful that here at
our Rural Retreat, the mules are our closest neighbors.
We sold yard sale items
yesterday. What we sold wasn’t the most
desirable, so I guess we did pretty well considering. We also didn’t advertise but just set up out
on the highway. The man who owns the
mules has a business building there that he was renting out that was recently
vacated. It’s a great location to sell
and we set our trailer there for the day.
When we go to auctions and purchase antiques and vintage items for
resale, we end up with less desirable items.
The auctioneers know that in order to move some of the less desirable
items, they must mix them in with something that people will want. So, they may put one item in a box they know
will sell and then a lot of other items that are nothing but yard sale quality
(or worse). A few things we simply throw
away but most of it we can either donate or sell at a yard sale. I really don’t enjoy having yard sales but I
also don’t enjoy having items pile up.
So, I insisted that if Mike wanted to attend any more auctions, we had
to have a sale and get rid of the less desirable items. It was a perfect day for it, neither too hot
or too cold and no rain. We are going
back today to do the same. I’m thinking
since it’s a Saturday, we will have more traffic and maybe we can move most of
the items.
In the afternoon, we closed up the
yard sale and went to pick up my contacts at the optometrist’s office about 45
minutes away. Mike had to return some
shoes that didn’t fit at the shoe store and then we grabbed a quick bite to
eat. I hadn’t been feeling well all day
and had been unable to eat much but by evening I was feeling better and was
able to eat a regular meal. We then went
to the colorful, evening auction that we like to attend. Guess the locals are starting to accept us as
one of them at the auction. People have
begun stopping me to chat or ask questions.
They can tell we are dealers by the items on which we bid and a lot of people
want to ask questions regarding where we sell.
Some people are just curious where we are from. Although my southern roots run deep with my
paternal family being from the Mountains of Northwest Georgia, the fact I was
raised in the Midwest and spent half of my adult life living either in Alaska
or on the West Coast leaves me with an accent that leaves most people
confused. I have always had a colorful
mix of southern expressions but I also have a somewhat distinct Midwest
vocabulary and way of talk that labels me as “not from here”. Most folks realize I am not “a yankee” a
term that comes frequently from the mouths of the locals to describe anyone
north of the mason Dixon line, a line that still clearly exists in their
minds. Last night’s auction wasn’t a
great one in light of good deals or great finds, but it was pleasant and I
probably relaxed and enjoyed myself more than previous sales. It’s starting to feel like I am not an
outsider to those who frequent the sale there.
Auctions are competitive and there
is often one person there who just dominates.
They don’t care how much they have to spend to get the “good items” and
they are not afraid to knock other people out of the game. That’s just the nature of things. For many of us, there’s an unspoken rule of
respect. We frequent the same auctions
and get to know each other and instead of being so competitive that we forget
ourselves, we practice some unwritten rule of auction etiquette and back off a
bid when we realize a friend really wants an item. The favor will be returned.
August 27, 2017
Yesterday’s yard sale was very
disappointing. We actually had better
sales on Friday than we did Saturday. I
was irritable because it’s so much work to get everything set up and then not
be able to move many items. I kept
thinking, “I could be home nesting rather than sitting here on the side of the
road selling yard sale items.” Then I
started thinking about how hard we worked selling produce the last few years
and all of the effort we put into it, how back breaking it was, and
demanding. It made me think I shouldn’t
complain about one or two days here and there since it’s no longer a most every
day thing like it used to be. We are
still meeting folks who live close to us.
Yesterday a man stopped and told us that he had been picking up produce
at the end of our driveway and it was the most delicious produce he had eaten
in a long time. We all chatted for a
good while and he invited us to his place where there is good fishing and
solitude. He was a very nice man. I am just amazed at how hospitable and kind
people are around here to welcome us. A
little while later, another man whipped in beside the trailer. He seemed like the kind of person who works
hard and plays hard and likes to get down to business. Mike had met him a couple day earlier when he
was looking at the property across the road from us and discussing building a
pole barn for the neighbor’s mules. Mike
had asked him if he would be interested in working on our barn and he had said
he would come by and look at it. We have
been so disappointed in contractors here and their lack of initiative, that we
honestly didn’t expect him to follow through.
But, here he was and ready to go look at the barn and let us know what
he thought. I can’t begin to express how
excited I am that he has agreed to help us get the barn in order. He runs a crew of four and he said it
shouldn’t take but about two weeks to restore the barn. He said he can have it done before winter and
mostly likely in October. We are beyond
thrilled and now getting down to really thinking about the details such as
should we patch the old metal roof or put on a new one that will last the rest
of our lives? Should we go with metal
siding that will never need to be touched as long as we live or do we go with
wood and keep the more traditional look?
If we decide on wood, should we paint it red or leave it the natural
color? Should the metal roof on the barn
match the metal roof on the house (which is green)? Should we leave the shed on the back for
additional protection for the Jerseys who are not use to living in the
mountains or should we take it off?
Should we enclose it with metal like it is now or should we use wood to
make it match the barn if we go with wood on the barn? This is the exciting part as we begin to plan
in earnest and then watch the outbuildings and property begin to take
shape.
Right before we packed up the yard
sale items for the day, Mike was on the phone talking to our neighbor who owns
the mules and he said, “I’ll see you in a minute.” The next thing we knew, he turned onto the four-lane
highway driving his wagon pulled with two of his draft mules. They are truly magnificent animals! He stopped and we talked for a minute. The mules were calm even with the road
traffic and perfectly behaved. He said
one of them had not even been hitched up for a year and yet there he stood with
perfect manners! It amazes me that
animals so huge and powerful will cooperate with their humans. It is obvious the mules and their owner have
mutual respect for one another.
I did get sad news last
night. A friend had been trying to get I
touch with me to let me know that a mutual friend had passed away. The cell phone service is so poor here that
her call did not come through and she called my daughter who also couldn’t get
in touch with me right away. I am not
sure of any details at this point, but it did come as a surprise. The things I will remember about this friend
is how tender her heart was towards those who were hurting. It did not matter what the source of the
hurt, she was sympathetic and understanding of the pain. I have a beautiful, soft “Prayer Shawl” that
she knitted for me about five years ago now when Patience, one of my cows, was
just a little calf. Patience was very
sick and the Veterinarians did not understand what was wrong with her or how to
help her. We had run every test we could
think to run with no negative results and yet the calf was deathly ill. It was suggested that her only hope was to
ship her off to Virginia Tech and see if they could help her. We felt like she would die if we sent her
away, and if she was going to die, we wanted her home with us. We devoted so much of ourselves to saving the
little calf and I was weary, sad, discouraged and losing hope. This friend sent me this hand knitted prayer
shawl in the mail and it was such a comfort to me. I still keep it out and in close reach where
I can throw it around my shoulders to ward off a chill or when I need the
comfort of feeling something snug, warm and soft around my shoulders like a
gentle hug. I am thankful for my
friend’s heart, for her kindness, for her encouragement and for her hands that
knitted that prayer shawl which I will always cherish. May she rest in peace.