Soul Full Sunday

Too often, parents whose children express an interest in farming squelch it because they envision dirt, dust, poverty, and hermit living. But great stories come out of great farming.

~ Joel Salatin

Friday Farm Photos

Thursday Focus on Vintage and Antiques

Instead of focusing on a particular antique this week, I decided to post photos of our booth at THE FACTORY ANTIQUE MALL located just off the Interstate at Exit 227 in Verona, VA.  

I think our own personal, eclectic, functional, farmhouse style is reflected in our booth.  If you are in the area, stop by and visit our booth!  Ask for directions to booths ASM.  Most of our items are in the ASM booth located in the back section of the mall.  (We share the front booth with a friend but the back booth is ours.)

Monday Journal Entries

February 7, 2018

I love a well told story and while I love to read, I probably enjoy more a story that is told from one person to another in an intimate setting.  I was thinking today about my love for story telling and how I have passed that on to Analia.  Out of the four grandchildren, Analia has spent more one on one time with me than any of the others.  For the first three years of her life, I was her second momma.  (Alissa has said that herself, so it is no problem that I relay that here.)  I guess I have told Analia so many stories that it is just natural she loves to tell stories and hear them as well.  Alissa and Josh loved to tell stories and did so very well.  I started wondering why that is, that our family loves the sharing of stories.  I don’t remember my dad being one to share stories on a regular basis with me, although I think he did share more with my brother and others.  Of course, I remember him sharing from time to time, but he was pretty quiet, at least around me. Perhaps it was just that I was never in the right setting to hear him tell tales.  The home I grew up in was very sexist thanks to the teachings of the churches we attended.  Women had their place and men did there thing.    My dad, I believe, grieved most of my life and I think that was part of it as well for I remember him as being fun and more outgoing before my mother passed away.  I didn’t really understand the whole grieving process, because I was just a kid, but now I understand now that a significant loss takes a lot of time to process.  For my dad, who lost my mother when I was seven, I think a large portion of my childhood he spent just trying to deal with his own grief.  For me, that translated into the loss of another parent in some senses.   At any rate, he didn’t tell many stories that I can remember.  But his sister, my Aunt Druceil, she was so good to share family history and her stories filled my head and my heart when I had opportunity to spend time with her.  How I loved to hear her hearty laugh as she would tell something she found amusing and there was a strength in the way she shared the hard things, wiping away a tear quickly so as not to upset us kids. Momma Helen, whom my dad married after my mother’s death, was also a good story teller and would often relay stories of her adventures as a single woman traveling in England and living in a castle there.  She could relay Bible stories and retell biographical history, especially that of missionaries and other church leaders in such a way that even small children were mesmerized.  She used her talents to teach Sunday School and Children’s Church. However, I think the family members who influenced my love of a good story most had to be my maternal family.  It starts way back when I was a little thing.  I remember my great grandfather “rared back” in his chair telling tales.  They were true tales told with such passion that even a preschool child was caught up in the excitement of story telling done well. I can remember the large, extended family all gathered around a table, or outdoors around a cut watermelon with everyone laughing and telling stories.  My great grandfather had once been a rough man. He had settled down to a second family after his first marriage ended in divorce.  He was a drinker and, I believe, a woman chaser in his early days and that even carried over into his second marriage, or at least the drinking did until he “got religion”.  He then gave up his drinking and became a Freewill Baptist Lay Pastor.  The preaching wasn’t a paid position, but he ran a country store and gas station that brought in a little money.  Grandpa Starnes was full of life and full of stories.  I can remember hanging on to his every word.  Grandma Starnes was much quieter, but when you got her to talking, she could tell a story too.  Her eyes would twinkle at the memories and when she got tickled, not a person in the room could keep from laughing along with her.  Her whole body would shake with her laughter.  My grandpa, or Pa as I called him, must have learned the art of story telling from his family and I think he was the best story teller of all.  It mattered not if he was preaching (for he too became a Baptist pastor midlife), sitting around the table talking to family, or having a conversation with friends.  When he told a story, I was mesmerized by it even if I had already heard it a dozen times. 

My great grandma Armstrong was a story teller as well.  She stood not quite 5 feet tall and never weighed more than 100 pounds in her life.  I don’t believe she ever spoke an ill word towards anyone in her entire life and she lived 90 plus years.  Her blue eyes always twinkled but especially when she was telling one of her stories.  She looked like she had stepped out of a page from the history books and in a way, I guess she had.  She was born in the late 1800’s, always wore dresses and aprons and kept her long hair pulled back tight.  She could recite poetry she had learned as a child.  Little Grandma, as we called her, was not as loud as my other set of great grandparents, but her stories were just as interesting to me.  My grandma (Nan as I called her) loved a well told story just as much as Pa.   Nan and Pa’s approach to life was that every day was an adventure, so no matter how trivial the circumstances, the story could be amazing if told with the right perspective and attitude

Because I love stories, I read a lot, from a very early age.  This is where my dad and step mom really encouraged me.  They encouraged my reading and made sure that books were always available to me.  Momma Helen always had books for me to read and made sure that I read many of the classics.  I always had a book in my hands.  If I had a spare moment, literally, my nose was in a book.  My parents were serious about children shouldering their share of responsibility with the work load, but I would rush through my chores so I could run off to the woods to find a quiet spot to read.  It wasn’t unusual for me to read a book of 200 pages in a day.  And, I witnessed my parents and my grandparents always reading, reading, reading and sharing what they had read.

I am sure that these strong influences in my life fostered in me the desire to share life as if it were an adventure.    It is a gift to be able to take the simple, the average, the mundane, the every day and view it with an adventurous spirit and be able to share that adventure entirely with words in such a manner that someone else can connect.  But, my family’s stories were told audibly and rarely put on paper and somewhere along the line I learned that I love to write and that became my avenue for sharing stores.  There is something magical to me about being able to write words and watch them come together in a way that helps me express myself on paper in ways that I can’t begin to express myself verbally. 

February 8, 2018

Mike has been working on the chicken house in Laurel Fork.  I had mentioned to him on the trip south that I really wanted to make the chicken house a priority because I would like to start using it soon.  Because of our travel back and forth, I have not kept chickens at our new property.  With “the transition” moving forward and Alissa’s classes ending in April, it is time to get serious about the chicken house.  We try hard to be wise about what we are doing, repurpose where we can and do the work ourselves when possible.  We have some metal roofing that was used by Mike’s nephew at his commercial chicken house.  Evidently these were “scrap” pieces that were used to protect the actual metal that was to be used.  The pieces are in various colors and Mike went through and picked out all the green ones but knowing there wouldn’t be enough, also got the plan metal pieces.  He worked yesterday on tearing off the old shingled roof and replacing with the green metal.  There will be some pieces on the end that won’t be painted but we can get some green paint and match them up.  The metal was free to us and with Mike doing all the work, we will have a new roof on the chicken house for nothing but the labor.  There were some really cool vents in the chicken house that came through the roof in two places.  I am sure those vents were necessary and probably to code when the house was used commercially back in the 50’s.  Or that’s when I assume the house was built originally according to the design.   However, the rain leaks around the vents and rather than fight trying to seal them off, we just pulled them out.  They are not necessary for what we will be doing.  We won’t be having chickens in the main level of the house, nor are we running a commercial chicken business.  My chickens are typically free ranging unless the weather is very bad or it is night.  There are windows across the whole southwest side in the second level of the chicken house which is where I will put my birds when they need to be inside.  I will have to either replace the windows or simply staple in new screen for the summer and then cover with heavy plastic in the winter.   Mike also repaired the small section of floor that was rotted out inside the house.  The house is about 18 feet wide by 40 feet long and two stories.  It’s easy to get carried away with chickens and one soon has more than they ever intended, but our intentions are to keep the flock relatively small.  We may sell a few eggs here and there, but really, we just want eggs for our family.  I only intend on keeping about 30 hens here in Laurel Fork.  Because the house is so big, we are considering sectioning off a portion of it as a feed room and a place to start chicks.  It’s fun to dream and plan and then make those dreams a reality. 

I’ve mentioned before that my first “job” was working in a commercial chicken house.  I am sure it was against child labor laws but no one forced me to work.  I didn’t like the type of work but I liked to work.  I hated even then the chickens being housed in small cages, some of them suffocating as they pressed against each other.  I hated the smell and the heat.  I hated the huge rats that made their home there as well waiting for a weak or dead chicken to eat.  The rats were the size of small dogs and their eyes were creepy looking.  But, I loved to work and I loved the cash money I got at the end of the day.  I was only eleven years old and I got paid half a penny a chicken for each one that I caught and vaccinated.  My work in the commercial chicken house left me not wanting to have anything to do with eating chicken well into my adult years.  My brother loved having a backyard flock and had a wide variety of birds.  Occasionally I would help him gather the eggs or catch a chicken, but it was really his project.  It wasn’t until Mike and I married that I wanted a flock of my own.  I still didn’t’ care for chickens too much.  All I could visualize was the nastiness of that chicken house where I worked as a kid.  However, I wanted fresh eggs so we set up a make shift area using Mikey and Kristin’s play house from when they were children.  I started with a handful of birds that were gifted to me and things just grew from there until eventually, when my share program was at its peak and produce sales were doing well, we ended up with a flock of 150 layers.  We won’t be having that many birds in Laurel Fork but the birds we do have will definitely have a nice place to roost.

February 10, 2018

We got up Friday morning and Mike was in such a hurry to get started with the day that he postponed breakfast.  He wanted to get enough firewood in for the rest of the weekend and he wanted to get as much done on the chicken house roof as he could because we are expecting a lot of rain for the weekend.  The wind was gusting up to 20 miles an hour causing the temps to feel about ten degrees colder than they actually were.  Twice I had to retrieve the ladder after it fell from the side of the roof and left Mike stranded there.  Cell phone service here in Laurel Fork is so poor that about half the calls don’t come through.  Once, Mike was able to call and let me know he was stranded.  The second time, I actually saw him on top of the roof and could tell by his body language exactly what had happened.  He got the metal all the way to the end of the house, although I am not quite sure how he did it in the cold and wind.  He wasn’t able to get the metal cut around the chimney.  (Yes, there is a flue in the building and a place for a wood stove.)  Around noon, Mike came in and we had a quick breakfast sandwich of eggs and bacon on toast before we headed up to a neighbor’s farm to pick up a trailer load of round bales of hay.  A client in Verona needed hay for some animals at his sister’s farm in Floyd County and called and asked Mike if he could find some hay here and then deliver it for him.  (We are on the Floyd County line and the sister’s farm was about 40 miles away from our house.)  Mike found the hay, got it loaded, and we made the drive over to Pilot, Virginia.  It was actually a beautiful drive as the sun was shining bright and inside the truck, we couldn’t feel the biting wind.  I know Mike is an extrovert and evidently the couple we delivered hay to were as well.  They all stood outside talking in the wind after the hay was unloaded while I sat in the truck.  I thought they never were going to stop talking.  I texted Mike to tell him I wanted to go home after he had been talking for such a long period of time but the phone sounded off right beside me in the seat and I knew I had a while to wait.  I really don’t mind waiting on my husband who doesn’t know how to end a conversation, but sometimes he needs just a little help removing himself from the company of other extroverts. 

When we pulled in our driveway I got the warm fuzzy feeling I always get when we pull into home here in Laurel Fork.  I have to pinch myself to see if I am dreaming.  Never in my wildest dreams would have thought that we would be where we are now, doing what we are doing, and with our relationship the strongest it has ever been.  As I walked through the front door of our home I smelled just a waft of smoke from the chimney mixed with the beef roast and vegetables I had in the oven.  The sights and smells of our little home filled me with peace and thankfulness. 

February 10, 2018

I brought my computer with me to an auction today.  I wasn’t  interested in what was being sold and I knew it was a good time for me to find a corner and write.  Besides, that’s what introverts like:  A quiet corner with something to do to keep them busy so they don’t have to engage in too much conversation.  However, I think everyone passed my corner spoke to me and that’s all good.  I am happy at the kindness of people. We went early today because we bought a large roll top desk for $50 last week .  The desk looks like new and was no doubt expensive when first purchased as it is solid wood (although not an antique).  Some men helped Mike load the desk at the auction house, but we were on our own when we got home.  The only place we had for it was in the landing at the top of the steps on the second story of our house.  I have been having a lot of trouble with my back and Mike didn’t’ want to ask me to do too much heavy lifting, and of course, our hand cart is still in Staunton.  Mike was able to take the bottom section of the desk apart which made it fairly easy to handle.  The roll top portion of the desk could not be easily disassembled and that was the hard part.  Mike said, “I wish we had something we could put it on to roll it across the yard.”  I replied, “Well, there’s always the wheelbarrow.”  So that is what we did.  We lifted the roll top onto the wheel barrow and then I steadied it while Mike pushed it across the yard.  Then we had to lift it up two steps to get onto the porch.  That wasn’t too bad.  We got it through the two doors on the front of the house fairly easily and then we put it on a rug to “drag” it across the floor to the steps that go to the second story of the house.  We had over a dozen steps to the landing and then we needed to turn and go up nine more steps.  We put a blanket under the desk and with Mike pulling and my pushing, we got it to the landing but then we were in trouble.  We could not get the desk to turn so that we could get it up the second flight of steps.  We maneuvered and maneuvered and thought and twisted and turned and finally we got it up on the first step.  From there, we used the blanket trick again with Mike pushing this time and me pulling.  It sounds fairly simple but it took a good while to get all of this completed.  We laughed a lot getting it moved and then putting it all back together.  We both felt pretty accomplished when it was finished.  Both of us had wondered if we could even get the job done with just the two of us, but we did it and are happy to have a nice desk to try to organize our paperwork. 

After the desk was moved, I got down to business in the kitchen.  We had eaten a roast beef sandwich and salad before moving the desk, but I wanted to make cookie dough for cut out sugar cookies for the kids on Tuesday.  I also wanted to make homemade Lasagna and homemade French bread to take to church for our get together meal on Sunday.  I got such a late start that it was 9:30 pm before I pulled the bread out of the oven. 

February 11, 2018

The rains started last night and were torrential.  At times, the rain sounded like a roar.  I was taking a bath and wondered if it was even safe with the winds howling and the rain beating so loud on the metal roof.  We have a lot of big trees around the house and it crossed me mind that the soft ground and wind would make it easier for them to come down.  But all was well.  Again, in the middle of the night, we heard the same kind of roar and it was the rain beating down as well as the stream in front of our house that had swelled.  Mike remarked that we might not be able to cross the bridge to get off our property but sunlight revealed a swollen stream but no where near the height of the bridge.  I rushed around getting the Lasagna put together to take to church, slicing the bread, ironing Mike’s shirt, and trying to get ready.  When we got to church and the pastor read the Scripture my mind sent off random alert, “You left the percolator on the stove!”  I couldn’t even concentrate on the Scripture because I was in a panic.  Mike told me to calm down and asked me if I wanted him to go home and turn it off.  I had put it down on simmer, so I told him to just wait until after the sermon, which he did.  As we all gathered to eat, everyone kept asking where Mike was and I kept repeating my story of how I had left the coffee pot on the stove and he had to go home to turn it off.  After half a dozen folks asked, I laughed and said loudly, “I am going to make a public announcement.”  Then I told everyone what had happened.  When Mike walked back in the door as every sat eating, everyone simultaneously clapped for him.  It was really cute.  I’m really thankful for our little community there at Buffalo Mountain Presbyterian.  I’m over labels.  I think labels are restricting and possibly do more harm than good.  After being hurt so deeply by “church people” last year, I wondered if I would ever be able to go to church again.  But, here I am possibly happier than I have ever been in church with a very small community of mostly elderly people who make me smile and make me want to return. 

It always takes me a while on Sunday afternoon to get things wrapped up around the house.  There’s trash to gather and take away, appliances to check and make sure they are turned off, turn the heat back and I like to leave things tidy so when we return, it feels refreshing and welcoming.  I got everything in order and we got the car loaded.  I had extras this week knowing I would have all four grandkids on Monday for a while and Alissa’s girls until 9 pm.  I made a pot of vegetable soup for our supper on Monday night to take back to Staunton with me because I figured by the time supper came around, I would be exhausted and not wanting to cook.  Tuesday, I have planned a little Valentine’s get together for all the grands and promised them we would do roll out cookies, so I made up a triple batch of cookie dough for that.  We delayed leaving by about 30 minutes because once again the rains just poured, but after that, the sky actually began to clear a bit, but ran into an accident ahead of us on the interstate which slowed us down.  I spend my “drive time” trying to catch up on texts, emails, my journal, bill paying, and all those little things that I have trouble finding time to do during the week.  I can’t afford to “waste” the six hours of travel time each week.   We are currently about 30 miles out from Staunton in heavy traffic.  I will need to make a stop at the grocery store before we get home and then I plan on baking one pan of cookies for the kids to get started decorating on Tuesday while we roll out the rest and let them cut them out and bake them.  I also plan on letting them put together some chocolate chip cookies because they all love to help with the process of making drop cookies as well.  And before all that, I am going to let them make their own lunches by making “mini pizzas” from English Muffins.  Should be a very busy but fun few days and I will be ready to collapse on Wednesday! 

Vintage Butter Churns

Crock and dasher type butter churns at our booth at Factory Antique Mall in Verona, VA.

It isn't hard to make butter.  All it takes is cream and some method of agitation.  The process of agitating the cream separates the solids from the liquids, or the butter from the milk.  In the article THE HUNT FOR A BETTER BUTTER CHURN, the author explains it this way:

"Butter is formed when the membranes surrounding the fat globules in cream are stripped through the process of agitation.  This allows the fat to clump together in a single mass, i.e.,  butter."

Butter Paddles used to "work" the milk out of the butter fat.  

 The simplest way to make butter is to put a small amount of cream in a jar and shake it (a fun little project for children) and  there is not much evolution in the process of making butter over hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. (THE HISTORY OF BUTTER shares that the earliest reference to the making butter is a 4500 year old limestone tablet with illustrations of the process.)  Dashers with an up and down motion, barrels that turn, containers that rock, and jars with paddles that were hand cranked all followed the same principle of agitating the cream to separate solids from the liquids.  Later, the addition of an electric motor to the churn made making butter more convenient and less time consuming.

Small Hand Crank Vintage Churn

According to THE NIBBLE: HISTORY OF BUTTER FROM PREHISTORY TO OUR HISTORY,
The transition from butter made by individual farmers’ wives, to creameries that collected milk from local made butter on a larger scale using machinery, began about 1860. The factory system of butter-making made rapid strides and received tremendous impetus through the introduction of the centrifugal cream separator and the invention of a simple method by which the exact butter fat content of milk and cream could be determined by the creamery operator. Modern firkins, tightly-made oak barrels, kept butter fresh for up to four months without refrigeration, and permitted shipment to distant markets.

Vintage Electric Churn original to our Southwest Virginia Property which was once a working dairy.

While the process of butter has remained basically the same over time, the years have given us a variety of churns of interest for those, like myself, who enjoy collecting them and while it may be more convenient to buy butter from the local grocery store, in recent years the art of making butter at home has resurfaced as more and more individuals realize not only the quality of the taste of butter made from fresh cow's milk but also the health benefits of butter from naturally raised, grazing dairy cattle.

It would be interesting to know how many pounds of butter I have made in the last ten years.  This is my "go to" electric churn.  

Interest in butter churns and the making of butter at home has proven to be a popular subject in recent years.  A post I wrote in 2009 entitled NOT ALL BUTTER CHURNS ARE CREATED EQUAL happens to be one of my most viewed entries on the blog proving that a number of people are still interested in the ancient skill of butter making.




Additional Links:

Home Churns and Utensils

Spread the Word

The History of Butter

Monday Journal Entry

February 1, 2018

I have coffee percolating in the old, enamel pot and I have coaxed the coals from last night’s fire back into a full flame.  It won’t be long until the bedroom is toasty warm.  I will probably then want to slide under the blankets and go back to sleep, but the truth is, I need to get some things done because Alissa and two of her friends will be arriving this evening to spend the night before going on to Charlotte, North Carolina tomorrow for a conference in which they are all speaking.  Analia is going to be spending the day with me here in Laurel Fork tomorrow and Rory is supposed to travel with her momma.  As soon as we got in to the house last night, I put a big bowl of October beans to soak so that I can make a large pot of chili.  Between the visitors this week and a carry in lunch at church on Sunday, I am sure it will be eaten.  Before I start my day (and while the room warms up), I wanted to get caught up on my journal.  I don’t even try to write on Monday or Tuesday evenings anymore.  I am always just so tired after watching the girls.  I know I remark often that Rory is high energy and her inquisitive approach to life keeps me on my toes.  The result is that by the time Alissa comes in around 9 pm after class, I am so tired I can’t see straight.  The girls say and do the funniest things and I wish that I could remember it all so that I could write it down.  When Analia was Rory’s age, she was very vocal.  The doctors could not believe that she already had such a large vocabulary for one so small.  Each child is different, and Rory, who makes lots of noise, doesn’t have a lot of words yet.  She says “Dadda” and “Momma” mostly.  She will say “Papa” when we coax her to say it.  She calls me “Maaaaa” when she is upset.  (Analia went through a long period of time when she called me Mom or Momma Tita.  I think they hear Alissa calling me Mom and they do the same.)  She has started trying very hard to say “Sissie” and is doing a pretty good job of it.  She uses a lot of hand gestures to get her point across.  Alissa has taught her some sign language and she signs for milk, more, and help.  Then, she just makes up a lot of her own signs.  She gets her point across without all the vocabulary that her big sister had at that age.  

Analia is really wanting to learn to read and is constantly sounding out words in her head and talking about the sounds the letters make.  I think she will pick up on reading quickly, which is no wonder, because we have surrounded the grandkids with books and read to them since they were infants.  They all love books.  I do worry about her ability to write her letters though.  She struggles with fine motor skills and has difficulty writing or coloring. 

We were able to spend some time with Nate, Kristin and the twins this week.  They all seem to be in a really good place right now with Nate having finished his degree in December and Kristin being able to stay home with the children now.  The kids seemed really settled and happy.  We love seeing our kids happy and at peace.  We had talked about going to the Discovery Museum.  We bought the twins a season pass and Analia also has a season pass.  However, with so much flu and other contagious illness so rampant, we decided to just visit together at the restaurant where we had a nice little corner to ourselves.  The restaurant was slow on a week day and we had fantastic server.  It was good to spend time together and we planned another get together for a week from Tuesday so that we can make Valentine’s Day cookies at Tita’s house.  All of our grands are so precious and when I get to see the twins I just want to squeeze and hug them so much.  They are just so cute.  Kristin said Hudson asks every day when they will get to see Tita.  I am so glad for those first four years when I was able to help take care of them and establish that bond with them. 

I did not spend as much time at the Antique Mall this week.  My schedule just did not allow.  However, I did manage a couple hours and was able to get most of the inventory finished there in our booth.  We have a few shelves in Al’s front booth that I still need to inventory.  Hopefully I can get that finished this coming week.  Unfortunately, we have had to watch our items very closely.  There seems to be a good bit of theft that goes on in the mall and I am suspicious that a lot of it comes from other dealers.  The mall is very large and it is filled with some fantastic dealers who are good people.  It only takes a few to make things ugly.  When we first started in the Mall, we had a nice piece stolen, the price changed, and the item put up for sale in another dealer’s booth.  The whole situation culminated in that dealer being asked to leave and take her business somewhere else.  (There were other factors involved in that decision by management as well.)  As a “parting gift” perhaps, we found a few things stolen the day she moved her booth out of the mall.  Since then, we have had a few things turn up missing here and there but not anything too large or expensive until this last week.   I went looking for a large item that was missing and found it untagged in another dealer’s booth.  She said someone put it in her booth and she didn’t know where it belonged. (Correct procedure in these instances is to take the unmarked item to the front of the mall where it can be seen and claimed by the proper owner.  This individual knew that, because she also works as an employee of the mall.)  I want to believe her, but it is a little hard when we have already had a bad experience that was similar.  At any rate, I got the item back.  I guess that’s the most important thing.  These types of situations are so frustrating and are prevalent in all types of retail situations.  It’s sad.  I stop and consider why people do a lot of the things they do that end up harming others and I think the answer comes down to jealousy and /or selfishness.  I think of the times I have been hurt deeply or that I have hurt others deeply and the root of the problem is usually the same. 

I started last weekend and continued working this week on updating the blog.  We are getting ready to reactivate the Facebook Farm Page in the near future and I wanted to have the blog up to date before I do that.  I had unpublished some of the pages on the blog such as the PRODUCE FOR SALE and ANIMALS FOR SALE.  I updated all the stand-alone pages.  I also created a new page where I put links to things I have written on other blogs at various times over the years.  The farm blog has withstood the test of time.  Even when I let it sit ignored for large periods of time, it doesn’t die.  This year will mark a decade since I started it.  The other blogs have been started and then completely let go by the wayside because I never have time to follow through with them, even though writing is one of my passions.  Someone remarked to me one time that I shouldn’t separate my life with the blogs but rather should have all my writing in one place.  With this in mind, I created a page with links to all the other posts I have written. My plan from now on is to put any entries I might have right on the farm blog.  In the past, especially with my grief blog, I felt that I needed to separate those writings that other might find difficult from the farm blog that was so closely connected with our livelihood.  I learned early on after Josh’s death that folks don’t mind supporting and listening initially after a loss, but as time goes on, people began to feel uncomfortable with lingering grief and don’t know what to do with it.  Rather than make our clients and readers, as well as family and friends uncomfortable, I found a different spot to express my grief and that journey.  I tucked that grief blog into the page with links on the farm blog yesterday morning and by last night, already, someone had sent me a message telling me of their own grief and loss.  I think that is the purpose of writing for me.  It is being able to express something in such a manner that someone else is able to connect to it.  For many people, what they are experiencing feels alienating, and that doesn’t necessarily mean just tragic loss.  It can be something simple that makes a person feel alone.  For me, if I write well and I am able to express myself clearly, then occasionally there is a connection with a reader that says, “Hey, you understand me and you just put I into words what I am feeling.”  When that happens, I feel so blessed.  I have a few posts on the blog the farm blog that I would like to go back and edit.  It’s not the content that needs editing but rather the format.  Somehow, the background and text ended up in a strange format that makes it hard to read.  I have tried changing it and have about given up and feel like the only solution is to totally rewrite the post.  Were it something I didn’t feel was important, I wouldn’t worry about it, but this long post in particular contains a lot of information that I want to be able to share with other Family Cow owners as they face similar situations.  I want the blog to be informative but I also want it to be user friendly and easy on the eyes.  I have always just used blogpost for my farm blog but I am limited structurally with what I can do with the page.  Still, the fact I have never had to pay for the services has been great.

We actually arrived in Laurel Fork before dark last night which was so nice.  We unloaded the car.  (I had brought some of my Nativity collection down this trip to store with the Christmas decorations.)  Mike got a fire started and I put away the boxes we had brought with us and started a load of wash.  I called grandma and visited with her awhile, and then we settled in for the night. 

February 4, 2018

It’s Sunday morning, just after daylight, and the snow is beginning to fall.  Snow and ice are predicted for both Laurel Fork and Staunton today.  Actually, I wish it would just snow a foot and then we would have no choice but to stay.  The way it looks is that we are going to get just enough to make driving hazardous but not enough that we can really justify not making it back to Staunton today.  We need to be back but I dread the traffic and the possibility of poor driving conditions.  For now, with church being called off, I am sitting in bed with a fire in the fireplace and my computer across my lap trying to catch up on the week’s events.  With Alissa, her two classmates, and the Little Girls coming and going here from Thursday until Saturday, things were a little hectic and different.  Before they arrived on Thursday, I made Chili, homemade bread and a pineapple upside down cake.  On Friday while the students went to conference in Charlotte, I kept Analia.  It is rare that I get time alone with Analia anymore, and I wanted to give her some individual attention.  We read a lot of books and built with blocks.  She went with me to get a few things from the dollar store that we needed.  I didn’t want to have to drive all the way into Hillsville, so we just made do with the local dollar store down the road from our house.  The crew got back from Charlotte late afternoon and Alissa told me how she explained to the professor in charge of her panel that she didn’t have a babysitter for Rory and had to bring her along.  (The other two student’s panels were scheduled for the same time frame as Alissa’s and they were unable to watch Rory while Alissa spoke.)  She explained that she regretfully would have to forgo her presentation.  However, the professor stated that they had a very child friendly university and told Alissa that she could hold Rory while she was presenting.  It was a 20 to 25-minute presentation on the subject of the difficulties of motherhood for African American women who were slaves and bore children under the horrible conditions of bondage.  With their own lives and the lives of their children subjected to the demands of the plantation owners, it created a unique and difficult situation as a mother.  Alissa said that for the first of the program as other people were speaking, Rory was very quiet and just stared at the speakers.  However, when Alissa began to speak, wearing Rory in a carrier on her front, Rory began making noises and “talking” too.  Alissa began handing her objects she had collected to try to keep Rory busy.  She said Rory would hold them for a minute and then toss them out into the audience.  Somehow, Alissa made it through her topic and it sounds like it turned out well in spite of her little helper.  When it came time for questions, Rory was fussy and Alissa tried to hold her on her hip and answer questions but Rory wasn’t having it.  The professor ended up taking Rory out for a walk in the hall while Alissa finished up.  It has not been easy for Alissa to first get her bachelor’s degree from Mary Baldwin and now her Master’s Degree from James Madison as she struggles to juggle work, school and motherhood.  But, she is almost finished and these difficult but rewarding times will soon be behind her and she will know that she persevered and completed the task at hand. 

Everyone was very appreciative of the food that I made for them.  I made homemade pizza and raspberry cobbler for Thursday evening.  Austin and Karisa were very complimentary and thankful for the meals and a place to stay.  They were delightful guests.  At one point, after the conference, I had to laugh as I stood in the kitchen working because Analia had all the adults playing hide and seek with her.  Austin hid back in the furthest corner of one of the closets in the cape cod style house.  They had looked there for him but couldn’t see him behind the clothes in the dark.  The second time they looked he jumped out and scared them.  They may all be adults working on a Master’s Program but they screamed like little children scaring each other to death.  Those are the moments for which I live,  when happiness flows and laughter fills our home.  These are the memories I hope my children, grandchildren, and even guests carry with them through the years. 

Saturday morning the guests all left and Mike and I decided to head to Galax for an auction.  We had been a little disappointed in the auctions at our favorite auction house over the last few sales.  The owner had seemed edgy and irritable and had said a few things that seemed out of character for him.  Yesterday’s sale seemed more like “old times” and I really enjoyed it, perhaps because I had mostly been providing child care all week and just needed an adult outing.  We were able to pick up a few items to put in the booths at the malls.  There were two whole tables filled with vintage linens but while everyone paid top dollar for them to get the particular boxes they desired, I sat back and waited until they sold the lot for one money at the end.  In this manner, I was able to get some gorgeous, handmade pieces at a price where I can resell them and make a profit.  I pulled a few pieces out for gifts as well and of course, I had to have several pieces for myself.  I absolutely can’t resist the beauty of a handmade piece knowing how much time has been put into it. I also bought a box of handmade, vintage off white curtains.  These were expertly sewn curtains, one set trimmed in eyelet lace and the other two sets trimmed with lace.  I had been waiting patiently and looking for something to put in what we call “the girl’s room” at our home in Laurel Fork.  The room has pink, French Country Scene wall paper, antique furniture and the windows are trimmed in white.  The former owner had red, plaid curtains on the windows and I just didn’t like the feel of those curtains in that room.  I had taken down some shabby chic, ruffled curtains from the dining room and replaced them with vintage lace curtains to soften that room up a bit and make it more my style.  Until I could find what I wanted, I just used those white, ruffled shabby chic curtains in the girl’s room.  When I came across these handmade, vintage curtains yesterday, I knew they were the exact fit for the room but I wondered if I could buy them cheaply.  (I am all about buying cheap.  The antique sales are a hobby for us and if we can’t turn a small profit to cover our expenses, then we will stop doing it.  Same is true when I buy pieces for the house.  We don’t need anything, so if I “want” something, I make sure that I can buy it economically and/or that I am able to turn enough of a profit on the other things we buy for resale to cover my expenses in purchasing that item.) I wanted those curtains badly but I refrained from bidding on the lot boxes until the bid got down to $4 a box lot.  I didn’t dare go any lower than that for fear someone else would pick them up.  For $4 I got three sets of beautiful, handmade curtains trimmed in eyelet and lace.  What a deal! 

February 5, 2018

The weather for travelling was not the best yesterday although it could have been much worse.  We left our place in Laurel Fork with the heavy rains tapering off but the further north we came, the worse the roads got.  Outside of Blacksburg and Christiansburg the trees were weighted down with ice and there was ice on the roads that had not been treated.  Fortunately for us, we were on roads salted by VDOT and they were not too bad.  Once we reached the interstate, things were better for a while but then we would run into areas of ice.  However, the interstate was clear.  It wasn’t until we were on our road going through Verona that the roads became really slick for us and we slid going around a curve.  There was more snow and ice on the roads at our house than the rest of the journey. 

The Little Girls were glad to see us although not quite as excited as they usually get.  That’s probably because they have seen us every day this past week and have not had to miss us.  Even with traveling, it has ended up that we have been together at least part of every day since last Sunday.  Guess Papa and Tita are not quite as exciting when you have to hang around them every day.  The girls also have colds. 

Today will be a routine day with 14 hours of babysitting, trying to put the house in order, cooking meals, washing clothes, and tending to things here that need attention.  We have fallen into a real pattern with our travels and most of the time we don’t even think about it but March will mark one year since we started the weekly commute between Southwest Virginia and the Shenandoah Valley and I think we are both looking forward to finalizing the need to travel weekly between the two farms.  Alissa will graduate in the spring and I won’t be providing child care on a weekly basis.  There will be days and weeks when we need to spend a good bit of time in the valley as Mike grows crops and makes hay and does some gardening here in the summer, so our commutes will continue but probably not on a regular schedule and very well may necessitate one of us staying at one farm and one at the other for periods of time, especially if we get the cattle moved to Laurel Fork.  By next fall and winter, however, we should be able to just stay in Laurel Fork and come back to the Valley just whenever we want to visit.  We really have not minded the commutes for the most part but there are times we would just like to stay in one place or the other without a schedule demanding otherwise.  There is also the difficulty of getting things done because it seems just as soon as we get good and started on a project in one place, it is time to go to the other place.  The great part of it is we are never bored and we get to see a lot of beautiful scenery in our beautiful state.  I’m so thankful for all our blessings, for the ability to help out with our children and grandchildren, that Mike can still spend some time with his mom and do things for her, that we have good health, that we have had safety on the roads, and all the opportunities we have had to grow, learn and build better relationships. 

Friday Farm Photos