Alive and well

It's so wonderful that life offers pockets of comedy, even in the face of grief and loss. Watching our puppy chase butterflies, or rather their shadows on the ground, never fails to make me laugh out loud. 

Trying not to smile when my six-year-old (who is learning to sound out words) asks, "Mommy, does the F-word start with f?"... Some of you might not find this funny, but the ones who know me and my terrible potty mouth might.

In the midst of crying over my friend's suicide and another friend's death in a car accident, I find lots of things to be grateful for, maybe BECAUSE of these deaths. After all, we are alive, and we are well.

I'm feeling incredibly grateful for our beautiful piece of land, which grounds me and serves as my mental health therapy. It doesn't hurt that it also puts out a lot of food already!

And the flowers! The flowers! I pick huge bouquets of roses and peonies and station them around the house, so we can smell them inside and outside. I grow perennial flowers in various flower beds around our place, and I also like flowers in my vegetable garden, because they look pretty and attract pollinators.

Steve, the kids and I worked in the yard all day on Memorial Day. We went a little bit insane and paid for it the next day since we were so sore. But we got a lot done! Steve did macho stuff with the chainsaw that involved trimming up some pretty big trees that had gotten too overgrown, shading my precious flowers. I single handedly weeded so much buttercup and grass from under the blueberry bushes that my hands could hardly milk the goats the next morning. We also weeded the garden and mowed the lawn. Our place now looks worthy of being featured in Sunset Magazine or something.

We bribed the kids into helping by promising strawberries and whipping cream later on. It worked. They kicked butt.

If you look closely, you can see Steve on the ladder with a chainsaw in the middle of the picture. See how all that green swallows everything?

Another source of comedy and comfort are our animals. Truly, how could you be sad when you watch the puppy sniff noses with our new baby pigs, or when you hang out with the goats and chickens? Our baby chicks are now 3 months old, and the roosters are starting to crow. The other day I milked the goats in the barn and heard a terrible screaming sound outside. I just about knocked over the milk bucket trying to figure out who got killed. Turned out it was the rooster who tried to crow for the first time in his life. Yeah, keep practicing, buddy.

And lastly, who cheers me up most are my children. This weekend, little Eva got to hang out with her best friend and even be the hostess of a sleepover. These girls played in the garden for hours, making up games, grazing on fennel and kale. At one point, I asked them if they were fairies. They looked at me a little disdainfully and said, "No, we are obviously wolves." Right.

In the picture, their teeth are green because they are eating fennel. Obviously.

Let me leave you with a picture of my Cabra Al Vino. Remember, if you want to learn how to make cheese from me, take my self-paced, start-anytime online cheesemaking course. I promise, it's super fun!

Pig heaven!

This is how our pigs live.

Guest blogging, and Gramma and Grampa are here. But not the pigs any more.

Melissa, a friend of mine who owns "Honeybee Holistics", likes my blog and asked me if I would be interested in guest-blogging and reviewing her products for her. 'Oh, no, I can't possibly do this', I thought. 'I'm not good enough.'

But apparently, I am now her guest blogger, and her product reviewer to boot. She makes incredibly high quality body care products, all natural, all wild crafted, and I love them. You can read my first entry at Honey Bee Holistics here.  And the best thing: You can leave a comment on her blog to win the product I reviewed for her - her amazing Organic Coconut Citrus Scrub!  

You all should go to her website and shop for Christmas gifts in her online Etsy store. Do it right now!

No, wait. Finish reading this, and then go!

This week, we are blessed with Steve's parents' visit.  They will be here for two weeks, one of which Steve and I will be gone for.  I kind of didn't want to tell you about this, in case you got all jealous.  But here's the news: Steve and I will go to Mexico for a week, where Steve's brother has a time share at a fancy hotel.  I cannot believe we get to bask in the sun for a week, WITHOUT CHILDREN!!!  I can't write about it now, I get all jittery thinking about it!

We have a whole barrage of people lined up to help at home: Gramma and Grampa, neighbors, and friends.

In the meantime, the kids are already having fun with their grandparents.  They are getting a lot of attention, and we already took them on a tour of the farm.  Today, we showed them the pigs - and also said our last goodbyes.  The butcher is coming tomorrow morning.  I admit, I am kind of sad.  But this is what we raised these pigs for: bacon, pork chops, meat.  Yes, it's good.

Showing off the sauna the neighbors are building with wood and a stove we donated.

Gone are the days of walking out to pasture on frosty mornings, prying the feed lid open with frozen fingers, being attacked by pigs when I throw their feed in the trough... Hearing their squealing noises when they pig out on their breakfast... Schlepping water buckets from the standpipe to their pen, because the water hose is frozen...

The weather has been incredible. One day, Kai and I bicycled up the forest service road out of our back yard. When the mountain became too steep and gravely, we hiked. It was an incredible experience, full of macho endorphins, sunshine, and bonding with my oldest child. He is not a child anymore, really. Anyone who manages to kick my butt mountain biking is not a child.

These are the views we enjoyed that day:

Bounty everywhere

I am hiding in my bedroom with the computer and a glass of wine. My kids' loud voices are echoing upstairs into my sanctuary, and the smell of chicken in the oven is wafting up through the ceiling. The smell reminds me of the task ahead next week: “harvesting” our meat birds. I don't like this job of killing and processing chickens, but I sure like the taste of baked chicken – chickens we grew ourselves, raised on green pasture and organic grain. I don't like being part of the death of animals I raised, but I would rather eat THEM than meat I buy at the grocery store, packaged in plastic wrap, not knowing where the meat comes from, not knowing if the animals had a happy life. I know for sure that our chickens lead a happy life, up until the time of their death in the pasture they were raised in, without having to transport them to a slaughter house. They get to forage in beautiful green grass, get lots of fresh water, space and exercise and are allowed to chase bugs to their hearts' content. They live in a chicken palace with a mountain view. What's not to love?

Our pigs are next. We are hoping to have a butcher come out the end of October to process them for us. It's more expensive that way, but immeasurably less work for us. Our pigs are huge already, fattened on grass, whey and organic barley. They are spoiled, get moved to fresh pasture regularly, and get sprayed with the water hose in hot weather. They love getting sprayed and push each other out of the way to put their noses in it. Afterwards, they scratch themselves on every available surface, grunting with pleasure, almost grinning. They are so big and ferocious at feeding time that I am nervous. I don't go into their enclosure any more. When they were little, the kids played tag with them in the pasture, but now? Oh no! They bite my boots if I try to go into their movable structure, and they lean against me to scratch themselves, knocking me over. I bet they wouldn't mind taking a bite out of me.

The egg layers are safe from slaughter. These girls die a natural death, pass away peacefully in the chicken coop when they are several years old, and that's fine with us. They have cranked out eggs for months on end, so they deserve to live out their lives. The kids adore them. They watch them grow from one day old chickies, hold them when they are little, and feed them daily. “Chicken duty” is the kids' job: feed 'em, give 'em water, and collect their eggs. Between the ducks and the chickens, we are egg rich. What an abundant life!

The kids are walking along the driveway to do "chicken duty".  Eva's carrying the egg bucket.  Oh my.

The kids throw the chicken's grain in the air and on the ground, so that the chickens can happily peck it.

Talking about abundance: We are drowning in cantaloupes - can you imagine? Melons in the Pacific Northwest? Yes. You may kiss my feet. The way we do it is planting the starts in black plastic, to really crank the heat. This year, with all the heat and lack of greyness, they have exploded. We eat them fresh, juice dripping down our chins, invite friends over to gorge on them, and I froze about 15 pounds for smoothies. Ahhhh!!! This will be gold in the dark, cold, depressing winter.

Juicy, ey?

And then there are tomatoes. Homegrown tomatoes, rich and sweet and juicy, warmed by the sun, freshly picked from the vine and bitten into... there's nothing like it, except maybe eating a killer chocolate cake. We bought two boxes of tomatoes from a friend and made it into salsa and sun-dried (or rather dehydrator-dried) tomatoes. The salsa is a big hit with my family. It's amazing what you can do with tomatoes, onions, garlic, sweet peppers, lime juice, cumin, salt and pepper. The kids devoured the salsa, served with stone ground organic chips. I should have bought about 150 more pounds of tomatoes. I tell you, the way these kids eat, we will have to start raising pigs. Oh, wait a minute. We ARE raising pigs. Phew. Good.

Despite all this work, we managed to escape for a two day vacation up to Birch Bay, close to the Canadian border, where we bicycled and played at the beach.  

A rare sight indeed... Steve relaxing.

I leave you with the image of my son Lukas with a salmon he caught himself.  My wilderness man husband Steve, Lukas and his brother Kai went out into the wild this week, with nothing else than some knives, bamboo spears, and a pot to boil water in. They left in the morning without eating any breakfast, so they would experience what it's like to feel hungry, and to be motivated to hunt and gather their own food.

Steve treated this as a rite of passage for the boys, and they came back changed, with incredible stories.  They got to share them with our community at a feast, where they brought salmon they had caught and smoked over a campfire.  Oh, how I love these men of mine.

Coping strategies, blooming roses, and a call for help

When we got little piglets several weeks ago, we had no idea they would be so personable and fun. The kids like to go into their pasture and play tag and hide and seek with them. The piggies love the attention and games!  They were especially fascinated by Eva's fairy dress, the same one she has worn every day for three weeks. Eva got a little scared when the pigs investigated her purple taffeta and tried to take a bite out of it, but her brothers came to her rescue.

The little guys (I am talking about the pigs, not my kids) are thriving on the whey I feed them from cheese making. Whenever they see me coming with the bucket, they scramble over each other to reach me first. When I mix the whey with their organic barley, they squeal and squeak with joy. Whoever came up with the term “eating like a pig” got it down right. They make a lot of noises and get incredibly messy when they attack their feed bucket.  And they get to dine with a view of this - fine dining at its best:

I spent this week being very overwhelmed, sad and grateful at the same time.  Between my friend being killed in a car accident and the Skagit River bridge collapsing, I am painfully aware of how suddenly life can end.  I am trying to be rational and not get a panic attack be calm every time Steve gets in the car, and I am trying to be optimistic driving over the many bridges one has to drive over in this watery state of ours without fearing that the minivan with my kids in it will plunge into the icy water.

So in these times of stress, how do I cope? Chocolate is the first survival strategy, of course.  Since I am still trying to eat very healthfully, I am eating 85% chocolate, which feels like medicine.  None of my other family members is allowed to touch this medicine at all cost.

Knitting is another trick in the bag for my mental health .  I have been cranking out lots of socks lately, just can't get enough of making them.  What an incredibly useful and pragmatic coping strategy, don't you think?

Another way to stay sane is gardening, weeding, and smelling the roses - literally.  June is a glorious month in my garden, because my roses start blooming now.  I have lots of Old English roses, not the fussy hybrid ones, and they smell intoxicatingly heavenly.  Eva is my little gardening helper, and she and I like to wander around the flowers, smelling them.

For my Type A German workaholic personality, getting stuff done also helps my mental state.  The other day, I made some of my luscious goat milk soap.  Kai helped me cut it up after its initial hardening period, and now it will sit quietly for a month to cure.  Can you guess how much soap we go through as a farming, living-in-the dirt, scratching-pigs'-backs kind of family?

One more quick thing?  Can I share something I posted on my Facebook page, and you read through it and do what you think you can?  Here we go:

Dear friends, some of you read my blog post about my friend who died tragically in a car accident. His wife Deborah Richmond Hallenbeck just received a bill from the towing company, who towed the wrecked car her husband was killed in. They are charging $900 to this grieving woman, who also faces funeral costs and many other expenses. 

It feels weird to do this here, but I want to help out as much as I can, and so I am wondering if people feel moved to do so, they would donate money to this cause. My friend Michelle Rogers and I are collecting donations through our paypal accounts. So far, we have raised $310 by selling goats. My paypal account is corinaschaedler@yahoo.com. I am going to the memorial today at 2pm, maybe I will see some of you there. 

Thank you, and hug your loved ones today!