December 19, 2017
Yesterday was one of those “days of grace” after a cold snap when the
temperature warms up and because of the bad weather previously, seems even
warmer than it is. We had temps dropping
into the teens, high winds of 40 mph, and snow in the last week and a
half. Patches of snow remained on the
ground in Laurel Fork from the storm the previous weekend. However, yesterday reminded us that it’s
still not quite winter yet (although we are only days away) and Nature blessed
us with a beautiful day for one of the last days of fall. I have not been walking the last few weeks
because of all we had going as well as because of the weather we had been
experiencing. I should have been brave,
dressed appropriately and walked anyway, as I usually do, no matter what the
temps or weather conditions. However, I
seem to be getting lazy since I turned 50 and I just don’t push myself like I
use to. In fact, I took the application
off my phone that logs my steps and noticed yesterday that my walk was much
more pleasurable not walking to log miles but walking for pleasure. The scenery on top of our property (what I jokingly
call “the back forty”) was stark compared to the last few times I had walked
there. Even a few weeks ago, enough of
the leaves were still clinging to the trees to add some color. This time, all the leaves were down, the
grass had lost its color, and everything was muted with grey and brown
overtones. I was eager to see Buffalo
Mountain from the vantage point we have at the top of our property but even the
Buffalo looked less majestic with the landscape so stark. The climb up was enough to make me come out
of my long-sleeved shirt and just walk the rest of the way in short
sleeves. It wasn’t THAT warm, with temperatures
in the fifties, but with the exertion of a vertical climb and the afternoon
Sunday I was comfortable. As I walked I
intentionally looked beyond our fence line and over the steep, rolling banks
that separate us from the neighbors on the North side of our property. These neighbors can’t be seen or heard at all
from our house and in the summer when the leaves are full, one can’t even see
the houses below. With the leaves
completely off the trees, I could make out the shapes of the houses and see
smoke from one of the chimneys. The land
between us and them is basically useless except for hunting or logging
timber. I don’t think we have to worry
about anyone building right up against us on that side of the property,
although I have seen houses built in places that seem very impractical, so I
suppose anything is possible. I would
worry more about someone coming in to log the property rather than to
build. However, I don’t think that will
happen either. If it sells, it will
probably be bought by someone from out of town or even out of state who wants a
quiet retreat or hunting ground. Along
the edge of the woods I came face to face with an Opossum who seemed just as
surprised to see me as I was to see him.
We both stood still staring at each other for a bit. I am always surprised at how frightening and
ugly a possum looks. I wonder if they
feel the same about us.
December 20, 2017
What a lovely time we have had the past week “just living” the day in
and day outs here in Laurel Fork. Mike
and I were talking last night in bed about how much we enjoy being together
most of the time (something previously we were unable to do and in fact went
many hours of many days never seeing or talking to one another with both of us
managing different aspects of the farm in Staunton). The choices we have made to be together, work
together, and communicate more have been intentional choices in our life. We have been blessed that circumstances have
allowed us to follow this path but it also took intentional, mutual decisions
for us to follow this path. I know there
are some who don’t understand our choices, but there is no doubt in our minds
that we have made the best choice for this stage of our life. When we started this journey, I wondered if
the “new place” would soon lose its glow and become a drudgery. I didn’t think it would, but knowing the
commitment that we had to make to make it work, I thought we might get
weary. Quite the opposite. Instead, we love it more and more and our
time here in Laurel Fork becomes more and more precious to us as we put down
roots.
So much of our time at our South West Virginia property is spent
cleaning up and restoring the buildings and property. The farm had been left basically abandoned
for so long. The neighbor’s use of the
pasture for his cattle kept that land from growing up, which is good. However, neither the previous owner(s) or the
renter have done anything to maintain or repair the fences. The cattle go where they will into the woods
and back again over the fence line.
There is really no issue with this as there is no where for them to go
on two sides of the property where the fence is so bad. (The fence has been a little better
maintained where it adjoins the neighbor’s hay field and where it meets the
road.) Where the fence is so bad is
along some extremely steep banks that a mature cow is not going to attempt to
travel. I would worry that calves might
become separated and lost over those banks but I guess the farmer who rents has
never had an issue with it. At any rate,
those fences will need to be repaired before my Jerseys are introduced to the
property. With the pasture being rented
until the end of December and the neighbor’s cattle still here, we have not
attempted any fence repair yet. Instead
we continue to work on the barn and to clean up around it and the other outbuildings. Mike got a couple semi warm days where the
temps were above 50 degrees which provided him the opportunity to do some more
staining on the barn. Yesterday
afternoon, after I took an afternoon hike, I helped him with brush and trash
clean up. He had trimmed some branches,
we moved some old dead wood, picked up some metal and glass that had been
partially buried in the dirt around the barnyard, and even found an old gate
frame that we can repurpose that was half buried. Looking at what still needs to be done could
be overwhelming but we try to just enjoy the journey and so far, with no
pressure to move the animals right away, we have enjoyed the process. We were very fortunate to have these few
bonus days after the bad weather we had last week and be able to get some more
work done outside.
I had intended to work on the large, two-story, 1950’s “commercial”
chicken house on this trip and try to get it ready so that we can get some
birds come February or March. I have
been without chickens now for over a year.
The predators wiped out the last of my free-range birds after I lost my
Livestock Guardian dog and with our being in transition, I decided to wait
until we were settled before I got more chickens. I didn’t want the kids to have to lock them
up and let them out every night in Staunton and I knew there would be no one in
Laurel Fork at times to care for them.
There’s not a lot to do in the upper portion of the chicken house, which
is what I will use to house the birds. There’s a nice, big nesting area with
metal nesting boxes and the building has water piped in from the spring! I have never had a chicken house with water
that close. There are some items that
have been housed in the building over the years that will simply need to be
taken to the landfill or moved to another location if they are
salvageable. The windows will need some
work. Probably best-case scenario is to
put in new windows. (The downstairs of
the two-story house is filled with items as it was used as a workshop. I have no intentions of cleaning it out at
this point.) Best intentions aren’t
always enough, and I didn’t touch the chicken house on this trip and it doesn’t
look like I will. Maybe when we return
for a few days. We are actually cutting
our trip a day or two short to head back to Staunton. Mike’s nephew who now rents the home place is
putting up commercial chicken houses on some additional property he owns (not
the Cupp Farm in Verona) and needs some help.
He has been a huge part of why we are able to leave the beef cattle in
Verona/Staunton while we transition and has helped us so much along the way
that we can’t leave him hanging. He is
very close to getting his birds and the crunch is on for him. (Those of you who have followed me on the
blog, Facebook, or know me in any capacity know that I am adamantly against
commercial chicken houses and the manner in which the birds are raised and that
has not changed in any capacity. I am
also mature enough at my age to realize that farmer bashing farmer does not help
anyone but only hurts agriculture in general.
The best way for me to promote humane practices are to practice them
myself, set an example in how I live, use my votes as an American citizen to
promote the causes in which I believe, and use every day opportunities to
educate and discuss the issues with others.)
Hopefully the extra two days we have in Staunton will give me an
opportunity to do some work at our antique booths which both need to be
reworked and have “new” items added to them.
December 21, 2017
Mostly yesterday I spent my time in the kitchen. The kitchen in my SW Virginia home is much
smaller than the kitchen in Staunton and while it’s easy to whip up a meal for
Mike and I in the smaller area, it does slow me down a bit when I am canning, fixing
for large groups, or doing a lot of baking.
However, my decision to slow down and try to learn to better enjoy the
process rather than just always running as fast as I can toward the goal has
transferred to the kitchen as well. I
made Cranberry Nut bread with cranberries left over from our bird tree garland
project that we did with the kids last weekend.
I had enough to make four times the recipe and I will give the
individual sized loaves away to some of our neighbors in Staunton on Christmas
Eve. I also made a batch of Chocolate
Peanut Butter Fudge. We needed to make a
run to dispose of a truck load of trash we had accumulated over the last few
weeks so we stopped at Red Hill General Store to see if there were any items
there that I could use as last-minute Christmas gifts. I didn’t have any luck. They had a lot of really neat items, but most
were priced higher than what I felt comfortable paying. From there, we went on into Hillsville where
I picked up a few necessities at the grocery store. Mike spent his time at the barn and burning
brush. It was a good day to get rid of
the huge pile of brush that we had accumulated because it was misting rain just
enough to keep the ground wet around the fire.
Speaking of gifts and Christmas gifts in particular, I struggle greatly
with giving and receiving gifts other than gifts of food. I am guessing that it’s in part because gift
giving (other than food) was not a big part of my raising and not a priority in
our family. Gifts that were given were most
always practical and rarely ever frivolous.
I actually get a certain amount of anxiety when I have to think about
getting gifts for people because I don’t have a clue how to buy gifts that suit
the occasion or the personal interests of an individual. Fortunately for me, I have a husband who is
much the same and we just agreed years ago to not buy each other gifts for
special occasions. For years, our family
(and extended family) did very little in the way of gifts for Christmas and
while that still basically holds true, having the grandkids has changed things
a bit for us. We do try to have some
gifts for the grandkids to open at Christmas Eve (which is when we celebrate
with them) At this age, it’s not too hard to find something they will like but
I always struggle with being practical and being frivolous. Mike and I neither
one can hardly stand to put money towards toys knowing they already have more
than they need. I do get them something
they can play with but I try to focus on games as well as educational and skill
building activity type toys. We also
promote books and reading by giving each child one wrapped book per day to open
from the first of December until Christmas as an Advent activity. I can usually pull off something for the
grandchildren, but it’s even harder for the adult kids. This year I have really struggled and here it
is just three days from when we will open gifts and I have almost nothing for
the adults. We do typically give them
money but I like to have something for them under the tree. Each year since Mike and I have been
together, I have bought a Christmas ornament for each person in our
family. I was happy to get feedback from
both of the girls this year who told me how much they look forward to their
Christmas ornaments and enjoy looking back at the previous year’s ornaments as
they decorate the tree each Holiday Season.
The advent books and the ornaments have become a yearly tradition for
us. I hope to incorporate the decorating
of the bird tree as we did this year into our yearly traditions as well.
We are drawing our time here in SW Virginia to a close for this trip
and while we have been able to stay a longer stretch than we usually do, it
still didn’t seem long enough. I’m
looking forward to seeing the grandkids for a few days but right after
Christmas I have some difficult family matters to which I have to attend and it
brings a measure of melancholy to the days ahead. I’m reminded over and over the major truth I
learned after my son passed away which is that joy and sadness can live
simultaneously in the same heart. In my
immaturity, I had always believed that I was either happy or sad and could not
be both at the same time. However, when
one lives with a significant loss such as the death of a child, one has to find
room for joy to reenter their life. The
grief is something that never goes away and abides continuously because grief
is a measure of love and love never dies.
The desperation I felt when Josh died was in part because I could not
imagine how I could ever live with such grief.
How could I ever smile again? How
could I ever have joy in my heart? If my
heart was filled with grief, then how could there be room for joy? With time, with experience, with maturity, I
came to realize that joy and sadness can live together and that one has to give
space for both in order to be healthy.
And so it is with what I must face in the days after Christmas. I must find a way to allow the emotions to
mix and balance themselves out and I must focus on the present and practice
intentional living.
December 26, 2017
Another Christmas Day has passed but for me, my Christmas spirit
actually really kicks I when the preparation is done and most of the world has
gone to “after Christmas” mode. Looking
back, Christmas was an odd time for me when I was growing up. Our family didn’t go all out for Christmas (I
actually like that approach and try to have a moderate stance towards gifts
even now with our grandchildren). The Baptist Preachers and Sunday School
teachers at the churches we attended told us that Christmas was the birth of
Jesus and of course fast forwarded to the story of his death to make sure that
we all had an opportunity to accept Him so we would not go to Hell when we
died. That’s was pretty much it. It was important to know that Jesus was born
so that we could focus on the fact he died.
It wasn’t until I was close to 40 that I began to really enjoy the
Christmas season. The churches we
attended when I was a child wanted to be sure that no one would ever think that they might agree
with any Orthodox churches on any point and the following of the Church
calendar as a whole was not taught or practiced. There was no mention of advent or epiphany
that I can remember. I remember the
thrill of learning of Epiphany and realizing that there were people who
acknowledged the “twelve days of Christmas”.
It was at that time I began intentionally leaving my tree up until we
had celebrated Epiphany. We do all of
our “celebrating” and gift giving on Christmas Eve with our kids and
grandchildren, which frees them up to go to the homes of other family members
or in-laws on Christmas Day. We also have
a big meal with Mike’s extended family after which we go to a Candlelight
service at the Brethren Church in which Mike grew up. Christmas really begins for me the moment we
sit down with the kids and talk about the reasons we have Christmas. The feeling swells in my heart as we sing the
carols at the Christmas Eve service and I see the glow of the faces that
surround the church as each one holds their candle as we stand shoulder to
shoulder in a circle around the room.
Then, we enter the quiet of Christmas Day which often means Mike and I
are alone together. It is on Christmas
Day that I soak in the Christmas music, the beauty of the season, and reflect
on its meaning. And for the next days, I
hold on to as much of Christmas as I can as life begins to pick up pace
again. This year was no different than
any other year that Mike and I have been together as far as our routine, other
than the fact that after caring for the animals, we loaded the truck and
traveled back to Laurel Fork. The
traffic was the last we have seen in the last nine months that we have been
driving Interstate 81 twice a week and there were no restaurants open to grab a
bite to eat. We both remarked that we
were glad folks were able to be home with their families and how we would
rather eat our home raised food anyway.
When we arrived in Laurel Fork, I made hamburgers from our grass
finished beef and a side of corn from our garden that I had frozen. It hit the spot and after cleaning up the
dishes and calling grandma, we settled in for an early evening together. Looking back on the weekend, it couldn’t have
been better. I didn’t worry about the
house (in Staunton) and did not rush around trying to clean it. I didn’t kill myself preparing meals, just
fed everyone things that were easy. We
didn’t have piles of gifts or expensive things under the tree, but we shared
time with one another as a family. Mike
and Alissa were able to spend almost an hour connecting with our son who lives
in Thailand. The sounds of laughter
throughout the day and into the night filled me with joy. And for a moment, I stood by the grave of my
Josh and allowed myself to feel all the pain of his loss, tell him how much I
love him, and acknowledge the hole that his absence leaves in our lives.
Joy and sorrow will abide in the same heart and we can find a way to
balance those emotions. Somehow, that
too ties in with the Christmas story. I find inspiration in Mary, the mother of Jesus. How her heart must have soared at times with the realization of the importance of this child that she was chosen to mother. And, how deep must have been her pain at all the things she had to witness as his life unfolded in ways she never imagined. I could never compare my life or my story to that of Mary, the mother of Jesus, but her strength, resilience and attitude are a model for me to follow.