Birth

Ilya was born last Tuesday. He gave us more warning, with a nearly 8 hour labor. Most of which was slow and comfy. We went to the Birth House, because of my platelets, which had risen, but not quite enough for a homebirth. The Birth House is lovely though, and we had time to stop for bagels on the way. 

Yarrow settled right in with her toys, all excited to meet her new brother, while I listened to chant, and Seth tended to us all. I was amazed by his ability to be there and fully available to both Yarrow and me. I never felt as though he weren't completely a part of our birth, and she was able to enjoy the experience without worrying, because she could look to him for the 'right' response. Because he was calm and supportive, she felt completely comfortable.

The tub really is fantastic. And our midwives were wonderful. After his birth, I thought back to the hospital room we'd visited in the local hospital's labor and delivery ward and thanked God again that I'd managed to avoid it. I'm sure the staff there are lovely people, but it just felt so institutional, so dead. And so full of nurses running around doing things. 

Our birth center was so peaceful. Like home, if home had electricity and super deep tubs. The midwives gave us space and welcomed Yarrow's enthusiastic participation as integral to the whole experience. They didn't just avoid getting in the way, or over-directing, they were hospitable, and that was ideal.

When the time came for Ilya to be born, I heard my softly chanting music, my husband's voice, and Yarrow's encouraging little words more than anything else. The midwives gave direction and support, but the birth belonged to our little family. Seth helped Yarrow to climb, naked, into the tub with us after the birth and hold her tiny brother, before we all got out to rest together on the bed and get to know him better.

Ilya Birch, who adores his sister, and tried to follow her voice with his pouchy, little, newborn-eyes until they closed from exhaustion. He seems more internal than Yarrow at this point, a peaceful little old man, eager to grow young and strong.

St. Valentine's Eve

This morning is so quiet. Yarrow has gone off to work with Seth, she likes helping him build..she loves mixing the mud and wiping stone and sweeping up. She especially loves dry-wall. I love the beautiful, bonding time she gets to spend with her daddy; and I love the skills she's picking up, and the sense of competency she's gaining. She comes home so very proud of the sanding she's done, or the painting, or the dry-wall patch.

Tonight though, she'll be spending the night at her grandparents..she's been looking forward to a night away, and we're pretty excited about it as well. Especially as she's insisted on bringing Luba. I'm not sure if Yarrow's grandmother will let Luba spend the night, she didn't like the idea when I mentioned it, but an eager little face, asking "Yes please can Baba spend the night with me too, please!" is hard to resist. 

Seth and I are planning to get out for the night. It's supposed to be -11, again, and we've got a couple big storms coming along next week (actually, tomorrow night). So it'd be nice to over-indulge a bit in a hotel room, hot showers, and electricity..and, you know, parental downtime. These storms have been draining for Yarrow as well. She wants desperately to be out and about in them, she loves the snow, but the wind and the cold, cold temperatures keep her venturings out to a minimum.

We're excited about the end of winter! A part from melting snow, warm weather, planting, and general happiness - a tiny plot of land on our road might end up being for sale. If it is, Yarrow's Bushia and Dzia-dzia might scoop it up. I can just imagine Yarrow wandering over for the day, dragging her beloved Luba along, and delighting in the excessive attention. And we, of course, would love their for-certain support in the 'battle of the road'. But everything is uncertain right now, so we're keeping our hopes all hushed up..kind of, in an 'over-sharing-online' sort of way. I can just imagine Yarrow's face though, hearing that Bushia and Dzia-dzia will be right next door. And can come up and stay in the winters as well as summers..without the whole 'can they make it up the hill while visiting' worry. This year we had a last minute (and probably ideally timed) January visit with them. It was horribly cold, but also pretty much the only week between freezing rain, snow storms, and general winter misery. Because the last thing I want to do is say, "Guess what Yarrow, Bushia and Dzia-dzia are here, but you'll just have to settle for calling them because we can't get out, again." That wouldn't go over well at all. 

* * * * * 

Anyway, keep us in your prayers! The midwives come today for our home-visit. We're so excited to be planning a birth in the coziness of our own home. To have no where to go and nothing to do for the first few days after welcoming our baby.

August Ending..

I hadn't really intended to take so long a hiatus. But my goodness, it's been a busy summer! And I didn't want to come back to blogging with a series of serious posts - I wanted to say 'hi' first and chat lightly for a while. 

It's been hard to think about blogging when I've been hiding my head from the news of the world and retreating deeper and deeper into my little monastery. But I'm back, the summer is ending, and it really is time to start writing again in earnest. 

We're preparing for a winter that promises to be at least as cold and harsh as the last one. The chicken coop is being made weather-tight, the duck pen is being built as I write, a hardy, low-roofed little nest for them, with a strong yard, and all under the protection of the big Balsam beside the house. We've almost lost these crazy ducks so many times now, I'm determined to keep them safe and warm through the cold months.

We'll be moving the cook-stove into the yurt this winter as well..in part to have the extra heat, and in part to avoid the misery of going out into the bitter cold to start it up for baking. It'll mean using more wood, but I think it'll be well worth it..and on the very cold nights, when I can't sleep much anyway, I can bake bread in the hot oven!

Seth took some time off work to work for his parents, building a chimney for their addition. Yarrow and I tagged along, and she adored working with her daddy. Seth let her help him mix 'mud' and tap the bricks. She carried bricks to him and moved wood around, and spent hours just 'watching the working guys work'. She was such a happy girl, and asked to be called "outside guy" instead of "Yarrow" while helping Daddy - who was also an "outside guy"..pretty adorable!

Our camera won't focus for me right now, so that's the only photo you get today, but if I can make it work, I'll add more later this weekend! My parents are coming up tomorrow evening, for the last visit of the summer..summer really is over, isn't it! Hopefully, we'll spend the week moving dirt, circling the house with strawbales (for insulation!), and stacking more firewood!

Blessings all!

Celebrating St. Joseph's Day

We celebrated the feast of St. Joseph yesterday! With cream, and cheese, and squid. It was absolutely amazing. St. Joseph got his prominent place at the table, with bread and salt around him, candles, and a little silk bird to call in the springtime.
 

I've really been thinking this year, especially after all the Catholic negativity toward St. Valentine's day. Why do we neglect our own feast days - St. Joseph's , St. Valentines' - in favor of greeting-card holidays? I've never been particularly passionate about Mother's and Father's Day. Mother's Day tends toward the sappy and Father's Day is too often just pathetic. Another excuse for women to remind their husbands just how much less than motherhood they value fatherhood. 

But St. Joseph's day has the potential to be a richer 'father's' day. A time to bless the men in our lives with love and honor, and not just the fathers. St. Joseph is a universal patron: of men, of families, of workers, of virgins, of the church. His day is a celebration of a good man's life - a life lived in obedience to God. It's the calling of every man. Father's day is for father's only, but our lives are full of men deserving a feast of their own. Husbands, brothers, friends - men who may or may not ever have children of their own, but who - like St. Joseph - have turned their lives into  living Icons.

So we set up the table, and set out some gifts. I'd intended to give gifts to Seth, but Yarrow seemed to think that on our family patron's day, we ought all get gifts, so we did. Little gifts for her and me, and a larger one for our man.

We put the presents on the altar - Yarrow's present on her own little altar, and when Seth came home from work we opened them, drank coffee with cream, and feasted on good food and a quiet night together. Then we prayed the Litany of St. Joseph before bed, and left the Icon's candle burning through the night, to keep the dark at bay and bless the transition back from feast to fast.

How do you celebrate the Feast of St. Joseph?

7 posts in 7 Days..DONE!

The 7 posts in 7 Days Challenge is over..It wasn't easy, but it was definitely a lot more fun, and a lot more productive than I'd expected! I tend to get bogged down in the editing, over thinking a post until it loses all relevance and ends up tucked forever at the back of my writing journal..The week's commitment helped keep that tendency at bay.

 

Seth's vacation time is also coming to an end. He'll be at work bright and early Monday morning, and we are going to miss him badly at home!  Yarrow and I are planning to drop him off and run some errands, just to give her that extra time and distraction. She does not want her daddy gone all day anymore. At all.

It's been so great to see the two of them spend so much time together these past couple weeks! So great to see her delighted face every-time she can ask "May I please..have..stay home from work today, please, Daddy!" and here back a "yes, of course!" 

"Daddy is just ours." She tells me, because he's at home. Letting her touch his new tattoo or building bonfires "just" for her with sparks that go up singing to the moon. She loves it best when the moon is out in daylight - and she can find it every time! - and even better when she can point out the day-time moon to Seth and share the delight.

 

Seth's 30th Birthday is today..we spent most of it with some lovely friends - watching Yarrow run 'round with their kids and eating pulled pork from last year's pigs. Happy Birthday my poor, dear, neglected husband! Thanks for putting up with so very much from me and for loving me as much as you do!

He had a birthday bonfire on Friday - the night temperatures 'plunged' to 10 below and wind picked up..It was bitterly cold outside, but lovely and so much fun. I made chili, we set out toppings that froze in the first hour..we hung mason jars with candles and wondered why exactly it's taken us this long to think of that!

And now, in early March we're waiting for winter to leave us..it's going to be cold tonight, five below..and tomorrow night those wretched weathermen are promising close to 20 below..but I don't know..it just feels easier to cope right now. We have lots of snow packed around the house, lots of wood inside, and lots of love to keep us warm. 

Her Father's Daughter

Monday Plans

This morning is cold! The pig’s water, chicken’s water, and all our buckets are frozen solid. The ground is hard and I’m grateful my husband managed to dig the new outhouse base before this morning’s chill - I don’t know if the earth will warm again this season. Our four-day vacation for Thanksgiving was lovely, my ideal blend of family solitude, true solitude, and visits. I loved having my husband home for four whole days. I’m looking forward to the winter, when snowstorms and deep cold will keep him home more often.

 

We had grapefruit and Greek yogurt for breakfast with just a bit of coffee for me and a big mug for Seth, who needs it on the long drive to work. Looking at Yarrow this morning, I realize she’s had another growth spurt, the nightdress she was tripping over at the beginning of the month is at her ankles. She will not eat yogurt plain, I have to add honey or raspberry jam. I’m sure she’d love it if I added both, but I won’t.

Today we’re making her ‘healing salve’ olive oil steeped in comfrey, oatmeal, and calendula (I’m so proud that the comfrey and calendula are from our own garden this year!), coconut oil, and beeswax. I made a basic oil and beeswax salve on Saturday, but winter weather requires a bit of skin support, for us as well as Yarrow, and this salve is a delight. Later, I’m hoping to bake a bit, and wash the left over dishes. I’m saving the big baking for the end of this week, when Yarrow’s Bushia comes up for a surprise visit. We weren’t expecting to see her until Christmas, but Yarrow is craving some grandmother love, and I would love to show off my kitchen! I’ve borrowed my mother-in-law’s “Baking with Julia” book, which is a fantastic baking companion. I’m actually hoping my husband will get me a copy for Christmas (used - to avoid supporting some of her more problematic organizations) and I’ll be able to bake my way through popovers, cakes, croissants, and breads.

While Yarrow naps this afternoon I’ll be working on Christmas gifts: a red cashmere dress for her to wear at midnight mass (from a turtleneck I found at the thrift store), an Infant of Prague soft doll (because she loves him so very much), and some stocking stuffers for my husband. We are putting a lot into Christmas this year, more handmade gifts, actually sending out cards this year, and doing an advent calendar of our own. I feel so much of a desire to spread out a bit in our life, and share the beauty.

The Weekend

We ate a lot this weekend. Saturday I made orange-poppy seed pancakes for breakfast. We had them with butter, home-made strawberry jelly, and lots of coffee. Having a space set apart for the kitchen is wonderful. I feel I can throw myself into cooking again. We have an over-abundance of eggs this weekend; on Sunday I used up some in a quiche and in cookies, my husband made us an omelet with four, but we’re still overflowing. He brought six in for a co-worker today, and I’m left with an even dozen, not to mention what’s out in the coop. I think I’ll make cupcakes today.

The nights are getting colder, we had a frost advisory last night, but fortunately we didn’t get the frost, I haven’t brought in my basil yet, and I don’t want to loose it. I’m excited about our winterizing projects this fall, a real floor in the yurt, pretty wool on the walls, and closing in the area beneath the yurt - they’re all so attractive. And I like the idea of being even more cozy this winter!

Homecoming

It is an absolute joy to come home after a weekend away, to a kitchen all set up for cooking (not finished, but working!), a neat house, and an amazing husband. Not to mention Luba, whose joy could not be contained. Yarrow and I visited her grandparents in Michigan all weekend, while my husband stayed home to make the house even more fantastic. I’m overjoyed!

 

 

Father's Day

I married a man who is, on the surface, very little like my father. Bonfires, guitars, and picnics in the woods will be memories of my daughter's childhood, they are not mine. But I have my own memories, and I wouldn't trade them: archery in the backyard, walkie-talkies on road-trips, late-night boardgames, and the everyday lesson of love. A lesson Yarrow is also learning. The man who raised me and the man I married love abundantly. I have an unending supply of memories of my father stopping to help not only his family, but everyone around him: photos for tourists, encouragement for the uncertain, directions, gifts, and understanding.

I love to watch my husband with Yarrow and see one of my favorite childhood memories lived again - a daughter delighting in her father's love.

Happy father's day

Daily Life

Summer days are long. As we creep toward the solstice I try too often to stretch myself in the daylight hours. I know the night will come eventually, and these cloudy nights are deep black - eating up the lamplight. But we moved to the words in rebellion against the “Protestant work-ethic” - the life of trying to get ahead. We moved in pursuit of an older style of living, a rhythm of days and of hours. So though I do fill my days with regular chores and exciting new projects, I break up the day into manageable sections divided by tea.

My husband leaves for work at six, and except for checking my pigs and chickens, I spend the early hours indoors drinking coffee and neatening the yurt. Later in the morning, while Petka naps to Suzanne Nance’s classical selections, I sit down beneath the dome to write, to plan my week, pay bills, and think. When she wakes, Petka and I collect eggs and send the chickens out into the yard. She likes eggs with bread and chives at lunch, I like green tea and Taproot. On sunny days we’re outside building our front garden, visiting the pigs, tending vegetables and walking down to collect our letters. On our last sunny day, Yarrow played with sticks among the blueberries while I primed the bookshelf. She’s happiest outdoors, even in the rain she’d rather be greeting her pigs, smiling shyly at toads, or raking the dirt into piles with stones and sticks all around.

Afternoon tea, with my husband home, is the hardest to plan consistently. I try to fix it will Petka rests, but too often I’m tempted by other things - by the dirt outside or the wheel in the kitchen. I’m too easily distracted; still, we manage. And a chance for a sit down conversation is a common part of our evening - even if it is conversation over the sounds of barking and crying, or before a date with the rototiller. The sun won’t go down before 8:30 now, and we’ve plenty of time to enjoy the primary good of our lifestyle: community. Off the grid, away in the woods we build a domestic church in the monastic style - ora et labora.

Bohemian Mama: Puppy Love

   Yarrow loves Luba with an amused, fascinated sort of love. Luba loves Yarrow with a worried love. Luba, usually pronounced L’ba, was Yarrow’s first word, said with joy, while a hopeful little hand reached out towards Luba’s unenthusiastic face. Luba worries when Yarrow pets her face, she prefers to offer up a side, a leg, anything but her ears and nose to those grabby hands, but she will sometimes come when asked, to lick Yarrows face or flip her onto her back with a quick scooping paw. She’s not really allowed to flip Yarrow, but Luba worries when she can’t see Yarrow’s face easily, and she has trouble remembering what she is and isn’t allowed to do.

We got Luba - a Lab-Pit-and something else mix the summer before Yarrow was born. She was barely over a year old when she finally met Yarrow, and we were a bit worried. Luba is emotionally needy. She needs more love than God can give her, let alone us, and we were worried she’d resent little Yarrow for stealing away the attention. Not to mention Luba’s enthusiastic love of all creatures has resulted in the deaths of at lest two frogs, numerous grasshoppers, and one very large spider. She means well, but not all creatures are able to play the Pounce, Bit, Fling, Repeat game for long. I kept a close eye on her for weeks. At night, Luba was crated, when I went to the outhouse, Luba was put out as well. But Luba was as careful as she could be with Yarrow, almost reverent. She was afraid to touch her, but loved to smell her and always looked to us for permission. She doesn’t ask permission anymore, and she has no fear of touching Yarrow, but she’s still careful with her, still frets over her, and though she tries to avoid letting the little hands catch hold of her ears, I’ve seen Luba sit nervously with her mouth half open and a small hand reaching inside.

I like seeing Yarrow loving Luba. She’s fearless around dogs - from giant Great Danes right on down the line. She laughs to see them bark and jump. Obviously there is a time to learn caution, but right now, she’s just enjoying them. She has a big friend and nursemaid in Luba, who is the first one there when Yarrow falls out of the cradle, who gives me reproving looks when Yarrow is done crawling around, and sits protectively by her when I step out to bring water to the chickens, bring in wood or collect eggs.

Bohemian Mama's..

Have happy anarchists in the family!

Thank you Uncle Charles!!

Saturday Morning Tea

We woke this morning to the sound of hunters deep in the woods. Too far to be on our land, but still a reminder: take care. Saturdays the woods are full of hunters. For breakfast I made toast from last weeks raisin bread, with apples and cheddar and strong black tea. The table is still messy with leftovers and the tea is still warm. I've been sipping it all morning from the blue and white china cups on mis-matched saucers, while Yarrow takes her first nap of the day next to the woodstove and my husband set to work building the winter coop. We are all wearing orange in the yard today. The air is cold, the ground wet, but the sky is bright blue.