A Weekend of Farm Parties

This past weekend the Michigan vs. BYU game drew handfuls of visitors our way.  The game itself (31-0) proved to be disappointing for our visitors and reported even a little boring by the Michigan fans here.  Aside from the outcome it was great to have an excuse to get together and celebrate our connections.     

The post game tailgate was arranged months in advance for a group of 25 that would be visiting from the company Paul works for in Salt Lake City.  Paul works remotely out of one of our out buildings so many were anxious to get a tour of our space here in Michgian. 

Though we were all looking forward to their visit the planning and execution did not happen till the week of.  I failed to report in my previous post - the beautiful day up north that it hit me and the moment of panic when I collapsed on the couch remembering that we'd be hosting this event and all the big projects that were still left to be completed.  Like the giant 6 foot deep hole in the middle of the garden where the water source needed fixing.  This is Paul less than 24 hours before our party head down in that hole assembling that water connection before filling the hole.   

There was another photo I tried to capture but in the moment of anger and chaos my phone lost power.  We have had a pile of bricks sitting by our side porch for three years now.  Paul wanted to surprise me by laying the brick pathway while I was in town picking up food so he hired some guys to put it in.  When I returned home it was surreal, the fences were down and a skid steer was buzzing around knocking out several bushes and tearing up the side yard.  In the end the pathway was not finished and half of the side yard was left as exposed dirt.  My country neighbor Beth was very sympathetic and reminded me to  never leave men with machinery unattended, ever! 

I am not in the business of impressing anyone but in these situations what is most uncomfortable is what is turned up in the relationships that matter most.  Once all the parties were through Paul and I got to look at each other and evaluate both our parts in the patterns of procrastination, planning, communication and execution.  With a large family, a farm and demanding career there are a lot of experiences to teach us and refine us and encourage us to bind together.

I personally am not party savvy and would have liked to hire the whole party out into the hands of professionals.  But when we inquired about help there were limitations and liability on preparing and serving meat that had been raised on our farm.  So food serving and prep were turned back on us.  My good friend Kandi looked at me the day before and honestly asked me how I was going to manage, I lied and said "oh, I'll be fine".  Not a half hour later I humbly called her back and she was ready and willing to lend a hand.  Between the two of us we passed around Naomi and prepared food.  I will also note that Nanny and Poppy also flew in to the rescue the day before and were available to pick up prepared trays from Zingermans and babysit while I attended to the yard situation.

    

The fun part was setting up, William threw down straw, I picked up mums and pumpkins and we called over country neighbor Carolyn. She's got an eye for design and has all the tables, linens, seating and decorations to go with it.  When she showed up with Hank mid afternoon she shooed me away to take a shower and sat and tied the silverware into cute little bundles with Maryanna.  Maryanna later reported that was her favorite part about the party, that she usually enjoys the excitement for a party more than the party itself.  By the time I was showered and had Naomi down for a nap everything was set up. It looked amazing!  Since my hands were full with food prep I asked one of the children to snap some photos.  I like how they captured it from their perspective but wish they would have taken more than 5 photos.

Paul pulled an old hay wagon into the pole barn as our buffet table and it was a harvest feast! 

   

 I really enjoyed the opportunity talking about our farm to "city folk" and bearing testimony of good clean food, hard work and some of the principles of permaculture.  Maybe I should have pulled out a soap box.  The man Paul works directly under caught me off guard when he inquired, "where do investment bankers fit into the permaculture model"? He wondered if it was their job to buy expensive food at the farmers markets.  I encourage him that everyone should support local farmers, that good food should not be exclusive to only those who could afford it.  That permaculture is more than just food, that all, no matter what socio economic category one may fall have a responsibility and stewardship in care of their own selves, care of others, and care of the earth.  I hoped that I was able to convey that permaculture is about finding joy in care and connections.  And if not from my words perhaps the question was answered in the ambiance and aroma of a settling sky, ripening moon, crackling fire, whispering birds and waving trees.  It does not require moving to a farm to awaken to the joy of living a life full of connections, simply a commitment to let go of that which is distracting or blocking our perceptions.       
       

We feasted and visited into the dark and committed to minimal clean up because another crew of visiting football fans from my family were expected immediately after church the next morning. 

 

We had plenty of leftover beverages, Paul fired up more steak on the big green egg and my brother Doug brought savory cheese curds and brats from Wisconsin.  

With my sister Becca in town I hoped to get some input on pizza making.  She reminded me of proper dough handling and satisfied me with a gasp of joy when cutting through the crust of a pizza cooked at 550 degrees on a stone.  She declared that she too needed a big green egg and so the "Wirthlin family kitchen arms race" is alive and well.  Maybe someday one of us will publish a cookbook "The joy of cooking with sisters" sharing all the must have cooking tools and subtle secrets for great food.  
  

The rest of the afternoon was pretty much a free for all of hanging out and eating.  Doug brought two friends who were visiting from China along and they coached us on proper ping pong form and I believe took more photos and videos than I have all summer.   

I wish I could say how many Izze soda Charlie managed to down.  By sunset he was screaming and sticky, and threw up before morning.  We all were certainly full of food and fun by weekend's end and in need of plenty of rest.  

Up up and away

 

We just returned from a week long escape Up North.  This is our favorite tradition with Nanny and Poppy and I am so grateful for their generosity and bravery in hosting us.  

This year's weather was perfect so everyday was packed with activities and recreation. As a result there are piles of sand and rocks that are spilling out of 3 suitcases worth of laundry. 

 

This year we discovered Raven Hill Discovery Center and the kids are hoping to add this visit to our yearly traditions.  It was only a couple miles from Stonehedge Fiber Mill where we get our wool processed so I'm sure we'll be back.

The director of the center immediately encouraged me to release Naomi from her stroller and shared this quote :

BABIES are designed to learn.  Baby brains are  more flexible than adult brains.  They have far more connections between neurons, none of them particularly efficient, but over time they prune out unused connections and strengthen useful ones.  The adult capacities for focus, planning and efficient action that are governed by the prefrontal cortex depend on the long learning that occurs in childhood.  Far from being unfinished adults, babies and young children are exquisitely designed by evolution to change and create, to learn and explore"

Alison Gopnik Scientific America July 2010

It was a busy day of learning for Naomi for sure! And the quote is up in my kitchen reminding me to relax into the normal behavior and curiosity of young children and toddlers. 

The kids all enjoyed the frog pond near the cabin.  They caught lots and gently released them.  George asked about the possibility of eating them and instead of disgust I wondered at the closeness he feels with his food.  

Clara spotted a bull frog the size of a football and the surprise slipped her into a puddle of mud.  Then they were done.
  

William was all business with his schoolwork.  He did not let this time away distract him and the minute we were back at the cabin and late into the evenings and early in the mornings he was alert with an open book or laptop. 

I also happy to report that we have improved in our canoe skills.  We were swift and accurate in our paddling and no boat got stuck and no one complained.  Except for the one water fight between boats that soaked our younger passengers.  

What I remember most about Sleepy Bear Dunes is watching the wipe out contest.  Charlie especially, he flew down the steep dunes with propeller like legs. 

You can tell it was a great activity because I did not have to yell at anyone to smile.  Love this shot but regret that Naomi was not there to complete it.  She was sleeping back at the cabin with Nanny and Poppy.

Back at the cabin sweet Nanny participated in some fierce games of Sorry.  This went on for hours with only occasional tears. 

The apple season was not great this year but we tried any ways.  We barely got a half a bushel and after second inspection decided it would best be used as pig food. 

Now we are home and the kids are sorting and trading found rocks. The bathing suits and beach towels are headed into their final washing before storage.  It was a joy to squeeze a lot more of summer into just one week.  

Thank you Nanny and Poppy and thank you Michigan! 

Long break and breath from blogging

I'm back from a long break from blogging.  Almost a year and honestly I do not have much of an excuse besides the ease of using instagram has gotten me lazy with using very few words for our record keeping.

There were actually several posts that I had begun composing throughout last year but did not see them through. In the past I had one faithful follower who I knew would always be waiting for an update and I wrote for her knowing it would in some way lift her spirits while she was ill.  She passed away the end of July 2014 and it has since been difficult for me to publish in this space.

Now I will simply write for the joy of record keeping.  Not sure who will tag along but I'm not in the business of filtering, flattering, marketing or even entertaining.  There is no agenda - this is an every day (actually maybe just once a week) blog with a simple goal of honest record keeping.  I may not even have time for edits and spell check.  

So on with the record! 

This was a big week with James back at the local high school.  He started last January and to be honest the transition was hardest on me.  I really wished my idealistic view of homeschool would see us through to where higher education met.  But it became clear that he was in need of change and after prayerful consideration he was off to school.  I am grateful for the clear confirmation that that is where he needed to be because I have repeatedly been shocked at the peer situations that have shown up for him.  I am pleased to report that through it all he continues to grow both taller and more confident within himself.  My favorite time of the day is when he is home and we sit down with a snack and I say, "tell me everything".  Sometimes he does and sometimes he turns it back on me and patiently listens to all the details from my day with little ones.  Hard to believe there are only a couple more years with him in our home.  

William and Peter were also in need of an education change so we outsourced their schooling to Williamsburg online academy  .  After a summer filled with recreation and lazy days this is just the right amount of structure they needed.  It is challenging both of them to expand their organizational skills and academic focus.  I especially appreciate that a portion of their work is project based and they are able to involve the younger ones in what they are learning.  They are getting very strong with their daily farm chores.  I watched in wonder out a 7:00 am window, Peter hauling a 50 lb bag of grain to the pigs and William toss a bail of hay over the fence to the cattle.      

Maryanna and Clara are still in the love of learning stage - I'm not requiring much of them beyond basic math and spelling.  The rest of their day they are free to engage in any nourishing activity they choose.  Clara reads most of the day and is the new in house librarian.  Maryanna is most likely to be lost in the land of creative process, drawing, drawing and drawing.  Both girls are excited to pick up pen pals and would love more if there is anyone who still enjoys the task of old fashion letters in the mail.  They along with their younger siblings each got their very own garden box and are learning through experience.  Clara has declared to never again plant her tomatoes so close and Maryanna has determined that it is best to thin carrots.  From last year's experience she claims carrots are sweeter after a frost so is holding back from harvesting many now. 

George and Henry's garden were also very productive.  It is funny how proud they are at meal times when we are eating their vegetables.  George was hysterical when a giant storm "chopped the heads off" of his eggplants .  He was convinced he could tape them back on but he learned that that does not work.  Henry watched his radishes and lettuce go to seed and a fungus wipe out his zucchini.  Clara's tomatoes have grown into his box so they have decided to make it a cooperative effort.  

Charlie planted mainly beets and kale.  He is a funny little guy and honestly very frustrating at times.  We have picked up the time marker B.C.  (before Charlie).  When the kids ask me why we don't go on many field trips or do messy crafts anymore the answer is usually - that was in the years B.C (and that may be another big reason for my year long pause in blogging).  I did attempt a trip to the DIA just this last week and it was not fun for me or anyone else trying to restrain Charlie.  He did stop for quite a while at Rodin's "The Thinker" .  He really stopped in long thought.  After about 10 minutes he said "mommy, is he not going to come alive yet"?  He picked out a post card of "The Thinker" at the gift shop and now sleeps with it.  He also has a small pile of playmobil toys he likes to sleep with.  When I tried to clear them out of his bed he screamed that they were his body guards.  And it is hard to argue with a little one who makes you laugh really hard.

Naomi is growing into herself faster than any of my other children.  She already is selective in what clothes and shoes she wears and often refuses to wear what I pick out.  The process of getting her dressed includes opening her drawers and allowing her to pick out her clothes.  She has joined me in yoga practice since infancy and now pretty good at tuning in and fantastic at imitating breath of fire.  

Paul and I are constantly dreaming about when we are going to get away, even for just two days.  So far it has been hard to arrange.  He is finding early morning peace in the milking room with Violet our Guernsey cow and my escape is checking in with the bees.  Occasionally a child will join me with bee visits but they know no one unprotected can come running up or disturb me during that time.  I feel most peaceful in the midst of the bees and always return into the home with energized focus and inspired ideas on how to encourage cooperation and efficiency.......because we need it!

Honestly, this past year I met up with enough challenges to seriously ask myself whether this lifestyle was aligned with the highest good of our family.  We've made some changes and re-shifted our focus a bit.  Our big garden totally flopped this year as did the grapes and other fruit trees, the decision was made to let go of most of my beloved goat heard.  And still here we are and grateful for the experiences, continually receiving nourishment even beyond that of farm raised food.            

Reclaiming One's Self

It has been six months since the birth of sweet Naomi.  Her unusual calmness and dimpled smile has been a gift and blessing to our family as I've struggled to find my footing as mother of nine children. 

The recovery from a c-section nearly swallowed me.  I suffered emotionally as I wondered why her delivery had to happen as it did, I wondered if my body had failed me.  I suffered physically and wondered when I would return to the normal demands of my life including digging in the garden, carrying a toddler, handling goats, huge loads of laundry, and huge pots of oatmeal without the discomfort, tugging and reminder at the incision site.  I had to let most of it go - and despite what was shared on Instagram these last six months, it has not been pretty.

I suppose it may have just been my perception that was off because no one else was complaining.  In fact I was well supported by those who love me most.  Paul's mom was constant in keeping our freezer stocked with meals and baked goods. James took on the toddler nap time duty (but then made the mistake of teaching the toddler how to climb in and out of his crib by himself), James also cooked and cleaned up months of warm dinners. William took over most of the puppy and animal care, Peter took charge of the garden all on his own, Maryanna became my laundry assistant, Clara became an extra set of arms for Naomi and and extra set of eyes for Charlie, Henry was constant in emptying the dishwasher, collecting fresh (but sometimes rotten) eggs and picking tomatoes, George learned how to make sandwiches for crowd and pick and chop eggplant. And Charlie learned "you got a big big owie on your tummy and I be so so gentle". 

Paul too took on extra chores as he juggled his weekly business trips with trips to the grocery store.  He mastered yummy refried black beans and when I was especially in need of rest took me and Naomi to Florida for a weekend.  And I am most grateful for the way he grew in his patience as a compassionate listener.

I am also grateful to those in my church and in my community who stepped in as support.  On a day when I was bedridden with mastitis and kids were fighting and hungry downstairs I cried out loud:  "I just wish someone would show up and help me cook lunch".  Not a half hour later I could smell tortillas cooking and an adult voice in the kitchen.  I was too shocked to stay in bed so I tipped toed down still in my pjs to see my Relief Society president cooking lunch! She said she was in the area and just had a feeling to stop by. 

Later in the summer we suffered tragic loss amongst our goat herd.  Paul was away so my farm lady friends assisted in the tender care of dying goats and even helped dig a grave. They reassured me of my ability to care for animals and then hugged and comforted me when a dear friend passed away within weeks of losing the goats.   

This past season was heavy on me and learning to accept help from others was humbling.  I realized I had been wrong to allow my self worth to be wrapped up in superficial strength, in what I could do, accomplish and give rather than truth of who I am. I had created imbalance in my life and in relationships in only wanting to play the role of giver.  I am grateful for this season where so many have served me, these experiences have both taught me and melted me, learning to receive has opened my heart to a greater capacity to feel love and connection to others.

The challenges of these past six months also led to the pondering of self care.  What is self care? Is it selfish? Is there a way that it can be integrated in the care of young children? and a farm? How can the family unit support each individual?  How do we support the family unit as individuals? 

These are the questions I've been pondering while catching up on months worth of house keeping, scrubbing, sweeping, dusting and more pondering.  These are the questions that have led to the spontaneous tearing down of wall paper, pulling up of carpet, swapping out of furniture, switching of bedrooms and clearing out of stuff that is no longer serving the highest good of our family.

I have not reached the full extent of answers to those question but I do feel in the pondering I am finding my feet and reclaiming pieces of me that I never knew existed, pieces that would in turn allow me to be of greater service to others. 

      

The Journey to our Arms

I am once again a first time mom - the experience of this birth was as unique as this new welcomed soul.  

I suppose with 9 children I could pretend to be an expert birther, I could even lie and say the more you have the easier it gets.  But that has proved to be far from the truth of my experiences.  With the pregnancy and birth of each child I have reached and retrieved unknown corners of my soul.  And it is the expansion of one's soul that allows greater capacity to love and nurture another.  Perhaps that is why birth is not designed to be easy.  

The journey endured to bring sweet Naomi into this world was certainly not easy.  Even after four weeks I can still feel the rawness of it.

Labor came on fast and hard, I was asleep and dreaming of someone poisoning me when I woke up with the intensity of a contraction that usually happens only in the late stages of labor. They did not stop and knocked the wind out of me so hard that when I called my midwife I was barely able to speak.  She sped on over thinking birth may happen before her arrival - good thing it didn't. I was relieved to see her and delighted that this may finally be happening. I breathed and danced through the worst of it then out of no where the labor slowed and I felt the familiar bump of a bum move back up into my ribs.  I can't say how frustrating this was but with vitals all good I decided the wisest course was to take a break and sleep.

The pattern of intense and irregular labor soon woke me and from there it was a blur of breathing, moving, hopping in and out of the tub, walking the hay field, crying and being fed, rubbed and nurtured by Paul and a rotation of three experienced women.

The photo above captured me by the fire on the second night with my friend Shelley rubbing my feet.  The midwives were close and attentive, they kept me hydrated and reassured me with positive fetal heart tones.  So we continued through to the following morning.  I was exhausted and frustrated, I did everything in my power to invite and assist a natural delivery but the feeling soon came that it was time to change course.  The midwives joined Paul and I in prayer as we sought direction, all of us felt peace around the decision to transfer to the hospital.  I knew in my heart that this baby needed to be delivered via c-section, I did not choose this but simply trusted in it. 

Our arrival at the hospital was emotional for me, I was still experiencing all the discomforts of labor but was more over whelmed by the feeling of peace and support surrounding me.  Paul and my midwife were by my side and as I was wheeled through long hallways and spacious corridors I felt the warmth, presence and reassurance of unseen angels also at my side.  I needed all of it.

I wish I could say the care in the hospital was as kind and nurturing as I had so far been treated with.  The truth is I was bullied, it is no honor to arrive on the labor and delivery floor as a home birth transfer with baby number 9.  It took a lot of energy for me to command the respect I deserved - it was here that I surprised myself with unknown strength.

I came to the hospital for a safe delivery for both myself and the baby.  I am grateful that that was the outcome.  What a joy it was to hear a cry and meet her eyes- another daughter! 9 lbs. 2 oz.  I wondered if being numb and strapped to the operating table would alter our first moments but that first gaze into her eyes had the feeling of greeting an old friend.  

Paul called home with news of a sister and the reaction was priceless - recorded on video was exuberant cheering, dancing and crying from Maryanna and Clara.  The boys were happy too, just not to the point of tears like their parents and sisters.  Here is Paul's account.

The road to recovery has been much harder this time around.  I feel so blessed that way back in October my sister Emily offered to come and help out sometime after the baby.  We arranged the ticket months ago and as it turns out her arrival was the very day we headed to the hospital.  She was there right when we needed help the most and stayed for 10 days rocking Naomi in the middle of the night and helping Paul feed and care for the others by day. She was as nurturing as a second mom to both me and my children.  We've been well supported by many others along the way as well, especially our children who have stepped up to greater responsibility.

The greatest blessing of all of course is the joy of welcoming a new member of our family.  She brought with her a calmness that is easing my recovery.  Her first smiles were within the first week of life and have been constant in cheering me through the weeks since.   I'm not sure when I'll make it back to full or even half speed again, but in the meantime cherishing every moment I get to feed, rock, rest and snuggle with this warm bundle of joy. 

Easter thoughts and blessings

Last weekend we enjoyed a sun filled Easter Sunday.  The kids found the most colorful eggs from around the barn, the blue green from the araucanas, chocolate brown from the marans and the light brown from the rest of the flock.  These were boiled up for breakfast and then they were off to church.  

I got to spend the morning resting with sweet little Naomi sleeping in my arms while tender thoughts reflected on the significance of the date and day. It was 14 years ago that day that my sister Julie passed away, I allowed myself to really miss her and wonder at how fast the years have passed.  I went back and watched President Uchtdorf's message from this last conference, it was one of my favorites and felt comfort in remembering the truth of his message, "The more we learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ, the more we realize that endings here in mortality are not endings at all. They are merely interruptions—temporary pauses that one day will seem small compared to the eternal joy awaiting the faithful" .

Easter is a day of remembering, renewal and great hope so I sunk into that while sinking into the healing glow of newborn eyes. I pondered on the life, love and sacrifice of the Savior Jesus Christ, the miracle of His resurrection, and the infinite blessing of eternal life offered to all who have ever lived.  

Later in the afternoon we had an Easter egg hunt that Paul's parents had so thoughtfully prepared for us.  A few of the kids helped spread the eggs and we started youngest to oldest.  Among the findings James discovered a hidden nest of chicken eggs and George spotted a half eaten bunny.  He screamed, "Aghhhh, the cats killed the Easter bunny".

For dinner we feasted on a meal of ham and potatoes that was also generously prepared by Paul's mom.  Our mealtime discussion bounced from how many goodies they collected, to what the learned and discussed in church that day.  Out of nowhere the question was dropped - "so what is the connection between plastic eggs and goodies and the resurrection of Jesus?"

I did not have a answer beyond that of new life, fresh beginnings and hope.  I then amused them with an experience from my childhood.  

When I was a little girl we had a cabin up north and on one occasion along the drive home there was a box of bunnies for sale.  My dad stopped and picked one up for us girls to share.  I remember my sister Emily tucking the fury creature into the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt for the remainder of the drive home.  We loved that bunny and named her Taffy.  That summer she was the focus of our attention, dressing her in bonnets, pushing her in doll strollers, feeding her parsley and flowers from the garden and letting her hop around the yard while we kart wheeled and searched for 4 leaf clovers.  Unfortunately she did not live through the next fall.  My brothers helped us bury her in a shoe box in the woods next to our home.  I was only around 6 years old but had a sure knowing that Taffy would live again, I didn't know how but knew it had something to do with Jesus and Easter.  So the following Easter I went back to the woods and waited by the site where she was buried fully expecting her to hop out of her grave and into my arms.  It did not happen so I went back every Sunday for a couple weeks only to end up disappointed.  I cried to my mom and asked why Taffy did not live again.  I can't remember my mom's exact response but I do remember feeling comfort in her arms as she shared her testimony of eternal life.  

This experience gifted me with a life long wonder of eternal life.  Since then I have lost a few more pets, and said good bye to grandparents, a few school mates and then my sister Julie.  Each of the experiences presented a series of despairing "why's?" and "how's?" all leading to to faith and hope in the same answer, "because of Him".  We shared this video with our children that evening.   Paul and I shared our personal thoughts and testimony of the Savior. And then a miracle happened - our children were actually reverent and listening for almost 5 minutes.  So if that is all they get out of years of noisy family home evenings, I am pleased. 

We finished the evening with our regular bedtime routine which was soon interrupted by the stomping of farm boots up the stairs - Yulemae had given birth to three babies! What a joyful way to say hello then good night on Easter Sunday 2014 - welcome to this beautiful world little goats!

Welcome to the world!

What a joy it is to share news of the arrival of sweet baby Naomi!  There is so much to say of her birth and the blessing it is to have her in our arms.  For now it is enough to say we are resting and basking in the sweetness of newborn scented snuggles and wondering eyes.

Thank you for all the thoughts and prayers offered on our behalf, they were heard and answered.