You Know You're a Farmer's Wife When...2nd Edition

Because I had so much fun with this the first time around, I thought it was high-time I did it again. And so, without further ado, I give you the 2nd edition of...


"You know you're a farmer's wife when..."

You know you're a farmer's wife when...

...you can identify which pig is which without looking at the ear tag.

...your favorite shoes have steel toes.

...you can spot a ripe tomato in the garden from 300 yards away.

...between May and September, every page of your prayer journal mentions rain at least three times.

...you've got three buckets in your kitchen; one for compost, one for chickens, and one for pigs...and you don't have to label them to know the difference.

...your answering machine says, "Sorry we can't come to the phone right now. It's canning season."

...you tell the kids, "If you want to live like pigs, you can stay out in the barn with 'em," and they know you mean it.

...your dinner conversation is a heated debate over which is better, pole beans or bush beans.

...a family "picnic" means everyone takes their own bucket to the berry patch.

...your preferred method of stress-reduction is killing squash bugs by hand.

...laundry is on the line, pigs have been slopped, eggs gathered and gardens weeded. Now it's time for breakfast.

The family that works together...

Confession time: I haven't always been good about letting the kids help out. I've struggled for a long time with nurturing my children's desire to be involved when they're little. I always felt in too much of a rush to get all my work done instead of taking the extra time needed to teach them. The fact that I start channeling Monica Geller-Bing the minute I get going on a project doesn't help. Yeah, I have control issues.

Can I say that I've been working on it? And getting a little better about it? Yes, I think I can. As my family has grown over the years, I've come to learn the value of building a sense of teamwork in my children, and that working together really can be fun!

So last week, when one of the herb beds needed to be re-mulched, we all got in on the act.






Yes, Ben, just scoop 'em right in with your hands.



That's it, Mary...all the way to the top.



Just take it straight to the place I showed you...



...and dump them right in.



Way to go, Ben!

My little man was determined to show what a strong boy he's becoming.

But Sarah wasn't about to let her big brother show her up.


 
She was dead-set on proving that she could handle the job, too.

The old saying is true, "Many hands make light the work." 

With everyone working together, the job was done so quickly, even
Daddy could afford to take a break.


And that's the best part of working together as a family.

Just One More Day

I don't want to make anyone feel sorry for me, I just want to share a little of my heart here. I'm not gonna lie...Father's Day was pretty hard for me. I didn't want to diminish it for my husband, because he deserves to be celebrated, but I was thankful that he understood when my mind drifted elsewhere.

I cried, reminisced, and cried some more.

I remembered the day Dad took off my training wheels and held on to my bike as I rolled down the street...until I looked back over my shoulder and saw that he was nowhere near me.

I remembered how huge my father was to my four-year-old eyes. He seemed like a towering mountain, and when he lifted me into the air, it was like flying.

I remembered the way he rocked me and sang the same song every night. "Honey, come back, I just can't stand it. Seems like a million years ago..."

I cried, and found myself thinking the same thing anyone that's lost a loved one thinks a thousand times over.

I'd give almost anything to have just one more day...

But the truth is, I didn't get that day. I got many of them.

In the months leading up to my father's death, I traveled over 5,000 miles going back and forth between Kansas City and home. I never felt more torn in my life, wanting to be with both parts of my family at the same time. I fretted and worried constantly if I was doing the right thing. Would my children understand and forgive me for leaving them? Would my husband resent how much it was costing us? Would I be a help to my sister, or just be in her way?

Would it really matter, in the long run, whether I was there or not?

Yes. It mattered. Being there to share even a small part of the burden with my sister mattered. Just being there, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand and letting him know he wasn't alone, that mattered. I realize now in a way that I did not, could not before, how precious that time was.

I could've stayed home, pushed through my days as wife, teacher and mom, and kept in touch by phone. I could've insisted that we couldn't afford it, that we need to put our family's future first, and put the money into buying the cow we still don't have. I could've waited until the very end, showed up for his last days, attended the funeral, and no one would've thought the less of me.

But then I would've spent the rest of my life wishing for just one more day.

When Beauty Comes To Visit

When beauty comes to visit...

...she sometimes brings a friend.

Sometimes, she's just stopping by to say hello...

...and wish you a lovely day.

But mostly, she comes to remind you...

...that it's good to stop and smell the flowers once in a while.

Focusing On Our Families

I've learned over the years that you have to be very careful with what you say online. Even something meant to be helpful or encouraging can easily be taken the wrong way. I was reminded of this yesterday morning after I sent out the following tweets.

Good morning all! Work in the garden before it gets hot, or work on my poor, neglected blog while it's quiet enough to think? Hmmm.....

I really want to write, but I feel massive guilt every time I do. There are only about 100 other very important things I should be doing. :(

I honestly wasn't expecting anything in the way of a reply. That's the seductive thing about Twitter...it makes you think you can muse aloud to yourself. But I ended up getting this in response.

In typical Wendy fashion, I immediately burst into tears. "How about focus on your family first..." The implication being that I don't put my family first? That spending the remaining 30-45 minutes I had before my children woke up (after already reading five chapters in my Bible and listening to and encouraging my husband about his own plans for the day) to write a post that had been churning in my mind since the night before makes me a neglectful mother??

I could say a lot of angry things right now, but I won't. Instead, I will simply ask this:

What does focusing on your family mean?

Am I not focusing on my family when I do any of these things?

Weed 1.5 acres of vegetable garden
Help my husband string 400 yards of fencing for the pigs
Mow an acre of grass
Read books and watch videos on YouTube so I can learn to use a pressure canner or sewing machine
Exercise
Chop and haul wood for winter heating
Help my husband manage our farm's website and social media outlets to reach customers for our poultry and organic produce
Try to build my own online presence in the hopes of generating income to help provide for my family

If I enjoy doing any of these things, does it diminish the priority of them in relationship to meeting my family's needs?

I did go on to write the post yesterday, with my husband's encouragement. I've been wrestling with "finding my voice" and it's not going to happen if I never say anything. As far as the woman on Twitter goes, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, now that I've had time to think it over. She doesn't know me, has never communicated with me before, and certainly couldn't have predicted the impact of her words. I'm sure I've said things online that were taken the wrong way, regardless of how I intended them. Maybe it occurred to her that what she said might have been less than encouraging, because she deleted the tweet almost as soon as she sent it. I really don't know what she thinks or how she feels because I'm not walking in her shoes any more than she's walking in mine.

If I've ever made another mother feel guilty for the choices she's made, I'm truly sorry and offer my humble apologies. I do honestly believe that focusing on one's family involves different priorities for different moms, and not one is less or more than another.

What do you think?

Depression, Faith, and Learning to Work a Camera

About a month ago, while we still had the money, we decided to buy a new camera. My original camera was six or seven years old, and though it still basically worked, the pictures weren't quite sharp and the shutter needed "help" opening all the way. Now, I'm not very good at spending money on myself...I have a hard time justifying it when there are so many "more important things", but this, I told myself, would not be just something new for me; it would be an investment for my family.

So, I've been learning how to use this new camera and my biggest problem is getting it to focus on what I want a picture of.

See that? You'll notice that the background is in crystal-clear detail. The flower in the foreground? Not so much. I aimed for the flower, and got leaves and bushes instead.

When you suffer from depression, it takes away your ability to focus on the things that are most important to you.

I moved around, played with the zoom, and tried again. With no better result.

Depression blinds you to the truths that are obvious to everyone else. You simply can not believe that you're a good person, wife or mother. Not only is everything you do "wrong", everything about you is wrong. How can anyone love you when you can't love yourself? And how can you love yourself when you know how ugly you really are?

So I gave it one last attempt. Instead of standing back and trying to focus from a distance, I got right up to it until it became as clear as a bell.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." In the midst of depression, all I see are my own imperfections. But when I manage to stop focusing on myself and turn my eyes to God, it's so obviously clear how much He truly loves me. I don't have to be perfect for Him. Jesus already carried the burden of perfection for me, because He loves me. And if He can love me in all my imperfection, why wouldn't I embrace the freedom to love myself? Because looking through His eyes, I am beautiful.

Following in Daddy's Footsteps

All I've ever wanted for my children is for them to be happy and confident with who they are, to reach their full potential, and follow their own dreams.

Daddy and Ben leading our American Guinea Hogs back to the barn.

But it sure warms my heart to see our son taking an early interest in the family business.

In Keeping With The Bees

Last winter, as my husband was laying out his plans for the farm this year, he said a few words I had a hard time believing at first.

"We're going to start keeping bees."

Now understand that when we first started this whole farming venture after my husband lost his job, I felt pretty confident that we could do just about anything we set our minds to. Chickens? Pigs? Even a cow or a few goats someday? If we can squeeze it on to our little three acres, I'm all for it. But seriously, bees? What would you have said to that?

Naturally, I said, "Sure, honey."

No pun intended.

As long as you're not allergic to bee stings, just about anyone can do it, and in fact, many people are, including city folks. When I was in Kansas City last March, one of the few bright spots was talking to one of the hospice nurses and finding out that she had just finished a class on urban beekeeping and was getting ready for her first colony, too. In places like Denver, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Salt Lake City, Cleveland, and Portland (ME), more people are setting up "backyard hives". Even New York City, London and Tokyo are reporting an increased interest in beekeeping.

Why all the sudden interest? Well, several reasons, really. As The New York Times reported last December, there is a "growing desire for homegrown and organic food," and an "urge to stem the worrisome decline in the nation's bee population."  And as my husband and I have become more aware of the evils of GMOs, our decision to become as self-sufficient as possible has increased ten-fold.  When looked at in that light, keeping bees doesn't just make good sense, it becomes vital.

We've had our bees for about a month now and I can honestly tell you that of all the things we do here, beekeeping is (so far) the easiest of them all.  We've only got 10,000 right now (which sounds like a lot, but really isn't), so it's going to be awhile before we can really get a usable amount of honey or beeswax from them.  (And if you don't already know, beeswax is terrific stuff for making candles...one of our personal reasons for wanting bees.) But they seem to be doing really well in their new home, and I'm happy with that.  A little sugar water, plenty of pollen to gather, and a little respect is all it takes.

Make that a lot of respect.

"Unique among all God's creatures, only the honeybee improves the environment and preys not on any other species." ~ Royden Brown