Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve dawned our first day on the homestead. Bella snuggled with Sylvia, first young ones to rise, keeping warm on the couch while watching me start the first of many, many fires to start in this home of ours.

Our woodburning furnace will be hooked to the ductwork in the house and provide all of the heat we need during the cold months here in Southeast Ohio, with wood all collected from the 140 acres of forest surrounding our home.

Yes, I use a propane torch to start the fire. It's fast, and when you have small cold babies, fast is good. Our first bit of wood was provided by a lovely family, delivering and helping us stack our supply to get us in this house by Christmas. But as I type I can hear the chainsaw running, with Papa and the oldest three out in the woods with a friend cutting up some nicely seasoned cherry, maple and locust.

Papa and the boys got the kitchen sink working pretty quickly so I could wash dishes somewhere other than the bathroom sink.

Then it was time for the tree to go up. We hadn't put it up at the "town house." It wasn't worth taking it down to move it. Upstairs, it will be a live tree from our woods. We already have one picked out. But down in the small basement, moving the day before Christmas, it was the old boxed tree that went up with a lot of help and ornament sorting.

After all hands had a chance to put up ornaments,

or try to take them down,

the tree was up and decorated. And for the next two weeks, until the wise men made it to their destination, it lighted our room all day and night with a warm glow.

It was a lovely way to spend our first day on the homestead.

HOME

The morning of December 23rd dawned cold and somewhat snowy. Our family's little world was being turned upside down in the greatest way possible. There is nothing like taking a dream, working hard for nearly two full years at making it a reality, and seeing the single day finally come when that dream becomes fulfilled. There are no words that come close to bringing forth the feeling of fulfillment of the soul. It's like trying to describe the love for the newly born infant in your arms the day you become a mother.
Our day was like a dream, and barely a picture was taken. In the upheaval (and do I mean upheaval - we'll get into that in a moment), there was a dog trying to find some normalcy curled up in her boy's drawer while her children swarmed around on the jungle gym of dismantled funiature.

She was snuggled by a quiet boy, taking it all in stride, and giving comfort where and when he could to whomever would take it.

And all were tired after a long, late day, but excited (well, the two youngest were asleep in the livingroom) when we finally made the step of putting together beds and getting our sleeping area set so we could say goodnight on our first night at the farm and wake in the morning to Christmas Eve.

Now to the upheaval thing. We went from 1300 square feet to 700 square feet. Now, the 1300 square feet was small for our sizeable family. We had a living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom (the norm), a Mama-Papa bedroom, a playroom (which for the last year has been the storage room as we prepared for moving), and a kid bedroom,. We like it that way. Everyone is snuggled in behind one door, close and comfy, safe and sound for sleeping. We don't like sleeping alone much. But here in the basement, we have one bedroom, which didn't fit everyone's beds, so we've combined some. We still like it. Moving to the upstairs with boys in one room and girls in another, now THAT will be a change. We have one small bathroom, a kitchen (that will eventually be my canning kitchen when we move upstairs), and a large family room with the warm wood furnace. Everyone went to one drawer of a dresser for clothes, just enough to get us from one washday to another. And the toys were considerably necked down. We have to fit into this space comfortably, without clutter. We have been so happy, living simply, playing tons of games, close and together. For many families, this might have been a struggle, but for us, it has been pure bliss. And my favorite part other than our closeness is getting to converse with the owls every night. So because, not despite, of the upheaval and the complete reconfiguring of our lives, we are happier than ever, and we are HOME.

Moving Day

Yes, today is our moving day. We are moving into the basement of the Homestead. The week has been relentless, the rain-soaked ground is now covered in snow and hopefully nice and frozen, and it is three days until Christmas. But the wood stove keeps the basement toasty warm, the painting was nearly done when I was there today working into the afternoon, and Adam was getting ready to put in the kitchen sink.

We have a working toilet and shower, which is more than we had when we moved into the house we're in now. And we're just plain ready. We were hoping to spend Christmas in the new house last year, but this constructing a house out of a barn business, well, it just takes longer than you think. So we are determined to spend Christmas there this year. We're excited, and can't wait to share the experience of living there with you in this space. That may be a few weeks, as our only internet access will be in town at the old house, so I apologize for keeping you hanging. Not that I've been faithful to this space yet. I hope to change that with the move. Here's wishing you and yours a wonderful Christmas and Holiday season!

The Drama of the Well

Water. Our one hold-up on moving into our home has been water. The old hand-dug well on the property is beautiful and useful in ways, but it wouldn't provide our large family with the water needed for a modern lifestyle, no matter how modestly we live in comparison to many. Yes, we'll be homesteading, and many look at what we're doing as akin to the Ingles, but we'll still be using our fancy HE washing machine and bathing more than once a week in a good ol' shower/tub. Yes, we'll be needing water if we're to continue living the life that we would like. I hesitate to use the word "need." No, we don't NEED a huge source. Most of us here in this country don't need most of what we have. But according to our lifestyle preference at this time, I dare say we need water before we can move in to our homestead. Reliable, clean water.

The well was supposed to be simple. But there's always that chance that things don't go as planned when you dig a well.

Clyde the Witcher came with his witching stick to determine the best spot and found three veins of water converging in one spot just behind the house.

Perfect! That is just what we were hoping for. A close well site with as little pipe as possible to run water to our home. And a site that would give a good return so that we could not drain the well from washing clothes and children. The drilling began,

the children watched,

the mud was plentiful.

They hit water! But they also hit crude oil. Not the amount of oil that makes you say YIPEE! Just enough oil in our water to spoil our precious water.

Move on to well site number two.

Not what we were wishing for at all. We could have water by now, but instead we're starting over at square one. Disheartening, for sure. Especially for a Mama that is ready to get her family into their true home, move her turkeys and her chickens home, and get settled into our new space by autumn, and autumn is moving in fast in this valley. Site number two, water at 50 feet, and what do we hit at 70 feet? Crude oil. AGAIN. After water testing, weeks of decisions, and lots of avoidance and pacing from Mama (thus the lack of posts...), a decision was made to seal up the bottom of this site and use this well, plus a cistern holding tank to give us enough water volume to sustaine our family.

The result, finally? Water at the homestead. A bit farther from the house than we would have liked, but water none the less.

And Mama can breathe a sigh of relief, as we are one HUGE step closer to being home at last.

In Her Words and Mine

A little snippet from the five-year diary of Mrs. Sarah Willis, wife of Clyde Willis, previous owner of the land we now live on and from, and my response. I will be sharing it with you occasionally in this space, for enlightenment, appreciation, and respect for those who came before us.

August 14, 1945: Tues. Today I dyed the aqua dress which Millie S. gave me. It turned out pretty good. In the evening the news came of Japan's complete and unconditional surrender. Bells began to ring, sirens howled, children screamed, Clyde decorated the car and led a parade thru several towns. V. and I stayed at home. I felt solemn, wondering just what this victory would mean throughout the world. Will it open doors to the Gospel?

August 14, 2012: Tues. Today I will be knitting a pair of socks with you on my mind, and this important day in our history. I have tried to imagine your life during this time of war, and now to hear your short account of the end of the war is humbling. At the top of this page, you have written War Ended!!! I am seeing other small victories unfold in so many lives around me, and the beautiful story behind these socks seems so fitting.
http://teakat-translations.blogspot.com/2010/08/finnish-baby-socks-translation.html

In Her Words and Mine

A little snippet from the five-year diary of Mrs. Sarah Willis, wife of Clyde Willis, previous owner of the land we now live on and from, and my response. I will be sharing it with you occasionally in this space, for enlightenment, appreciation, and respect for those who came before us.

August 12, 1941: Tues. Jesus' love is wonderful to me. We took Dot to the hospital and train, then went shopping. I got blouse material, a brown pocket book, brown shoes & white & black pumps. Dad gave me $5. It is cold tonight. 58 degrees. I am wearing my flannel pajamas.

August 12, 2012: Sun. Jesus' love is wonderful to me, also, Sarah. I am very blessed. We went to church, spent the morning in the place where you used to live, preparing for living there ourselves, then spent the evening at our Parish Picnic with wonderful friends and fellow parishioners. It is also cold here tonight. 59 degrees. I will wear my flannel pajamas just like you did.

Farmhouse Deconstruction

You may think I mean demolition, but I assure you I don't. I say deconstruction, because demolition is not a suitable term for the work we completed in the old farmhouse. We have had to DEconstruct everything carefully because every bit of lumber used to construct the house will be reused in the transformation of the barn into a house. That being said, it is mostly only the lumber that was saved. I did save some of the old books.

The five-year diary of Mrs. Sarah Willis and her pack of letters that she had kept is here at our current house with me now.

The second story of the house was filled with books and paperwork. The property had been uninhabited for 15 years, but the previous owners were a pastor and his wife, and years upon years of his church's record keeping was up there, along with evangelical training, brochures and pamphlets.

Fascinating, but there is only so much room for us to keep memorabilia from the old house, so we had to pick and choose. I did keep the old furniture that was there, and will be reupholstering it for our use. Oh, the plans I have for this furniture. The sectional sofa is wonderful, and the rocker glides like butta'. As for the rest of the things I loved in that house, like the old tile,

stair carpet,

and layers and layers of wallpaper, all I have left is photographic evidence of its existence.

And I'm fine with that. Like I said, there will be only so much room for memorabilia, and I have been using the photos as texture for other photos I edit with Photoshop.

Gives that wallpaper new life.