We're on the other side of it now

This was a hell of a week.  First, I got sick and couldn't eat or drink anything for three days, and then our valley flooded, and then my neck went out.  And the worst thing: I couldn't eat any of the Thanksgiving feast, because every time I swallowed, I wanted to pass out from the pain.

Fun, eh?

A week before Thanksgiving, I headed down to Oregon's off-the-grid Breitenbush Hot springs with two of my good friends for some major relaxation time.  The day was awesome: walking in the snow, soaking in the hotsprings, eating amazing homemade food, taking saunas, laughing with my friends.  Then I started getting sick and spent the rest of the time throwing up and sleeping. 

In a place like this, with a warm cabin and no responsibility, that was doable.

But on the eight hour drive back, curled up in the backseat, trying not to throw up on my friend's backseat, something must have happened to my neck, because it started seizing up more and more, until a couple of days later on Thanksgiving morning, I woke up in such tremendous pain that I took some heavy duty painkillers left over from a tooth extraction a year earlier.  At the time, I never used the painkillers prescribed to me, since I have a high threshold of pain tolerance.

I've given birth at home naturally three times, so I can deal with pain.  But that Thursday morning, I wept, holding my head as straight as possible, because I could neither look up, down, right or left.  I can't describe it.

And the worst thing: I couldn't eat the Thanksgiving feast because swallowing every bite felt like a knife was being pushed into the back of my head.

Lovely, I tell you.

But here's the upside to this: Being as sick as I was for a week, my family didn't fall apart.  Why?

Because

1) I am married to the most nurturing, capable man on the planet, and besides rubbing pain ointment on me several times a day, waiting on me hand and foot, and taking excellent care of me, my husband also whipped up the most delicious turkey and green beans (I was able to eat leftovers a couple of days later).

2) We have trained our kids to pull their weight in the kitchen.  So while I did some heavy Lamaze breathing on the sofa for two days, my children loaded and unloaded the dishwasher, scrubbed countless pots and pans, and made food.  Lots of food.  My oldest son's speciality: bread sticks.

You can make this bread after taking my online fermentation workshop.

They also helped Steve deal with all the homemade wine we got brewing.  No, don't worry, they are not allowed to drink it, but they can help rack it.  We have a huge amount of Oregon Grape wine fermenting, and we think it will be excellent.  You know, medicinal.  Especially for women.  Yes, I think I'll reserve it for myself, since I need the medicinal-for-women aspect.

They also made root beer, which, by the way, is excellent.  It costs 25 cents to make a bottle, versus buying it at the store for $3.50 per bottle.

And while all these storms raged inside our own home, there also raged one outside.  The whole Skagit Valley (and beyond) flooded after a huge amount of rain and snow melt with the unusually warm weather.

Houses flooded, backyards were submerged in torrents, roads were impassable, and guard rails washed away.

It started like this in our backyard, and then it never stopped.  Our place doesn't flood because we sit up on a bench, but many other people got into trouble.

The Skagit River on Wednesday, about to flood over the road on Highway 20.

Two days later, after mud and water washed away the guard rails and messed up the highway.

Another highway (Hw 530) got shut down for a while as well because of all the water on the road.  Here, it is receding again.

With all this rain, I always feel bad for the wild animals.  Steve assures me that bitter cold is much harder on them than rain, but still.  Poor dripping deer.

I hope I haven't completely bummed you out with our tales of sickness, floods and pain.

Let me leave you with some heart-warming pictures.  For a day after Breitenbush Hot Springs, my middle child got sick as well.  As he lay on the floor (don't ask me why the floor and not the sofa), our dog Raka came up to him and first put her paw around him in a hug, and when he didn't responded to that, she just sighed, put her head on his back and watched over him.

My little dog Yoda, in the meantime, was curled around my belly, keeping me company.

And one more picture: if not heart-warming, then stomach-warming: a batch of Chevre I made with cow milk, so you have to call it Farmer's cheese, but it does taste like Chevre. It makes the best cheesecake, or herbed soft cheese, or marinated morsels, or lasagne, or anything that calls for cream cheese.

I'll teach a free webinar on how to make this cheese on December 14.  Sign up here.  You should totally come watch it live, and if you can't make it live, I'll send you the replay. But when you're on live, you get to ask me questions!

A walk in the woods, and why grandparents are the best

Since I was confined to the sofa for a whole week (my back is much better now, thanks for asking), and since it has been dumping record rainfall for weeks, I hadn't gone outside for a while.

So when the sun came out the day after Thanksgiving, my sweetie and I went for a walk in the neighborhood, which consists mostly of trees, rivers, and mountains, and a stack of firewood here and there.

Before I tell you about our Thanksgiving, why don't you come along for a walk?

As soon as I stepped outside, the winter sun warming my face, fresh air streaming through my lungs, wind ruffling my hair, something deep inside of me relaxed and let go.  

I NEED to be outside, which is easy to do in the summer, but harder to pull of in winter.  Do you guys realize how much rain we get here?  It's like a rainforest, except colder and muddier.

Being outside with the trees and the open sky is like going to church for me.  Here, I find spiritual sustenance and feel the bigger picture of life, gain perspective on things that are going on around me.

Outside in nature, my anxious worrying seeps into the earth, my troubles float down the river, my negative feelings poof up into the air, and I feel renewed, ready to love and forgive once more.

My best friend Lindsay is a psychotherapist deeply connected with nature, and she has studied in depth all kinds of interesting research.  She once told me that people who have had abusive childhoods and weren't able to attach to people instead might attach to nature.

That's me.  That's totally what it feels like.  The term "Mother Nature" literally feels true for me.  I never felt emotionally nurtured by my German family of origin, but instead spent time in nature, where I felt truly happy.  I spent hours walking the German countryside with my dog, even when I was quite young.

I've been feeling quite sad lately about my family of origin, the disfunction and disconnection of it, the bad blood.  

In stark contrast to that side of my family are my husband's parents.  They are visiting us from Minnesota right now and are some of the most non-judgemental, loving people I know.  They LIVE for their grandchildren.

I keep thinking 'When will they get impatient or sick of my kids?', or 'Should I keep the kids quieter in the house?' or 'How come they don't get tired of playing games with the kids all day?', but all I have seen for years is the deep love and commitment they show for our kids and for us.

Before they arrived, seven-year-old Eva asked, "Mom, are Gramma and Grampa gonna spoil us?"

Why, yes, little girl, they will, and they are, and they have since you were born, and don't you forget that you are very, very lucky to have them in your life.

Here we are giving our dog Raka her birthday present.  She just turned one.

Let me leave you with images from some of our critters in our backyard.

So, so thankful for this amazing life.

What are you grateful for?  Leave a comment here.  Let's spread some positivity around, shall we?

We ate cockroaches, mealworms, and crickets for Thanksgiving. I'M NOT KIDDING YOU!

We ate cockroaches, mealworms, and crickets for Thanksgiving.  By "we" I mean Steve and Lukas, and our wonderful friend Brian, who brought them along for a stir-fry ingredient.  Although you can eat them raw, too.
Brian is onto something.  There are bug farmers in the world who believe that raising bugs for protein is the answer to world hunger, and I think they have a point.  You don't have to grow massive amounts of grain or grass to feed them.  They don't take up much space compared to cattle or pigs.  And many people in other places on our planet already eat them regularly.
As much as I absolutely love and adore Brian, there is no way in hell I will pop a fried cricket into my mouth.  You couldn't pay me enough money to bite into a tasty mealworm.  And cockroaches?  (Excuse me if I run into the bathroom and throw up right now...)
But my darling husband and son ate bugs this Thanksgiving.  Rite of passage, ey?

We had a wonderful time visiting with our friends these past two days and were very sad when they left, bugs and all.  I keep marveling at the caliber of people we call our close friends.  I got teary eyed looking around our Thanksgiving feast table.  (Don't worry, we did serve our homegrown chickens alongside our friends' homegrown bugs.)  We are very lucky to have such amazing folks in our lives.

And the other blessed thing?  Snow!  It snowed!  A little.  Enough for the little ones to put on snow pants, hats and mittens and roll a big snowball across the yard.
What are you thankful for right now?

Thanksgiving thankfulness

This Thanksgiving, I am especially thankful for the animals on our farm.  They give us lots of food and entertainment, especially the pesky goats.  Our Ancona ducks are an endangered heritage breed.  They like to hang out with black and white things, like soccer balls.  No, I'm just kidding.  I merely thought the football in the picture was a nice touch.

 

The goats give us milk, cheese, yogurt, and kefir.  Let me introduce Gracie and Coco.  I know, I know, they don't have any ears, but that's because they are a breed of goats called "La Mancha", known for their high butterfat, high solids milk, which is ideal for cheese making.

This year, we raised 60 meat birds with our neighbors.  They are the tastiest chickens I have ever eaten, fed on organic grain and free range pasture.  Our ten and eight year old sons Kai and Lukas were very involved in the whole process.  They know where their food comes from.  They nurtured the little baby chicks, watched them grow, and finally enthusiastically eviscerated their guts after they were slaughtered, ahhhh.... harvested.

Dear chicken, thank you for becoming our Thanksgiving dinner

Plucking chickens is a nasty, nasty job.  You can see how much I am enjoying the process.

I know it's gross and graphic, but this picture distills Lukas' helpful spirit.  Notice how some chickens are much plumper than others.

And here is the chicken when it came out of the oven for our Thanksgiving dinner.  I like to bake it with bacon, to keep it really moist, and to show off the bacon that came from pigs raised on the whey brom my cheese making.

And finally, I am extremely grateful for my family.  My kids have brought so many blessings into my life, and Steve, my amazing husband... how lucky am I?

Kai

Maple Leaf... no, wait!  It's Lukas!

Little Eva

Steve, the wilderness man, who knows how to blow fire into a flame, made from rubbing two sticks together!