Sunday

It is remarkably warm out. Amy and i stopped outside to just stare up at the stars for a while. The night sky is always more amazing in the winter - the crisp air for whatever reason makes the atmosphere more clear and more star light makes it through. Usually we don't tarry too long outside at this time of year but tonight it is warm. . . even with the crazy wind.

Christmas is winding down. Just four days to the new year and already we are clearing the house of the all of the festive adornment and preparing for new beginnings.

The kids are away tonight so we opted to run in town and eat at our favorite corporate restaurant that will remain nameless lest it appear that i am endorsing eating at that, or any particular establishment (Thanks James and Judy. . . it was yummy!).

We then ventured off with our dear friends Laurel and Ian to Borders (yes it was support your local corporate giant night) to sip froo-froo coffee drinks and peruse the reading room. Amy and i walked away with a book on making soap - yes, Renee, we are finally really ready to get started. . . if i could find some one local who sells Lye!

Apparently. . .

Its illegal to ship kids to people in other states as Christmas presents. . .




If they don't get returned to sender, they find their way back!


It was a pleasant and peaceful Christmas. It was white, and warm (inside and out) which is all one could ask for.

Now we look forward to the new year and all the hope and opportunity to share and love that it brings. . .

Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you . . .

. . . he is the Anointed one the Lord.

 

'Lord' – as far as I know this title isn't often used anymore outside of "proper" circles within the United Kingdom. It is a concept that we Americans lost long ago, or never had to begin with. It was commonly ascribed to one who was in authority, the head of a household, a husband, or a man with mastery in a certain field.

 

The announcement that God had sent his anointed one (ambassador, special envoy, messenger, son . . . however the wording helps makes the phrase less obscure) has such an unusual wording.

 

'. . . born to you. . .'

 

It could be interpreted as 'given to you'. Jesus, the son of God is 'given' to us? The norm would certainly indicate that leaders 'take' or 'assume' power. Leaders aren't 'given' to people . . . or are they?

This is one of the qualities of Jesus that is so subtly amazing. Unlike so many, he leads by example. He taught by example, and his life was an example that all mankind should follow. Love! Love your neighbor, love your enemies, love the down trodden, love the unlovable. Be patient, kind, humble. . .

Princes are born with much pomp and circumstance; kings come with ceremony and self promotion. Jesus came quietly . . . almost less than quietly. Born in the barn, he slept in the feed trough. His first years of life he was a refugee, later he was a manual laborer. Not a man of great wealth, or backing, or any sort of family name to capitalize on. He taught people to show the appropriate respect for the creator, and then live from the bottom up, rather than legislate from the top down. Pretty backwards for a leader!

Love and tend to each other in peace and humility and you wont have to rely on a government to regulate how you act! In many ways Jesus pushed a government by the people for the people.

God was saddened when Israel asked for a King instead of living in love and trusting God to tend to their needs. He warned of the oppression and disappointment that would follow the rule of man – power corrupts. Jesus came to remind us that there is a different way, a better way. And he came not just to remind us, but to show us!

 

So . . . unto us a child is born. . .

 

Happy Birthday Jesus.

 

There were shepherds living out in the fields. . .

Protecting their sheep from predators and thieves.

Mary and Joseph had returned to the hometown of Joseph's family as part of a national order. It turns out that Augustus the head cheese at the time had passed legislation mandating an updated census . . . for tax purposes (perhaps he had a recession that needed fixing too).

Joseph and Mary pull into town and for lack of vacancies had to shack up in the barn. A funny set of circumstances seeing as Joseph would have had a load of extended family in town. But, that's the way it was - they were shacked up in the barn.

These shepherds, in the meantime, were out in the elements. Maybe it was winter and cold, maybe it wasn't – either way, it seems to have been an ordinary night by sheep rancher standards. Imagine yourself there:

It's late, you're tired, and you and a couple of friends are telling stories or playing games together. One of your buddies is nodding off next to you. Suddenly. . .

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.

Mankind has always feared what it does not understand. There were no movies or fancy CGI to bring to life the wildest and scariest of our imaginations (outside of say. . .the Coliseum). People were not numb to terror as we are today.

I don't believe the messenger from heaven was scary, though. These shepherds were prepared for a lot. They were on their guard against lions, wolves, and bears, but angels suddenly appearing in the middle of their flock of sheep was not covered anywhere in the Idiots Guide to Shepherding.

Like turning around to find someone standing right behind you that you didn't know was there, and were sure wasn't there a second ago – that is how I quantify their terror. . . that and there is a freakin' ANGEL standing there.

But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

OK, first off. . . Mr. Glowing Angel guy scares you near to death, then he has the audacity to say, "Do not be afraid." I can only imagine that there had to be something divinely soothing about his voice and maybe also his presence that would allow the shepherds to pull their wits together enough to actually stop being afraid! But then after toning their fear level down a few notches to "prudently afraid", I can imagine the curiosity and wonder took over. Now someone who is not Jewish the angels message seems a bit well . . . preachy and weird. But for a Jew the Messiah ('Christ' in the Greek) was somebody long sought after. The Messiah is the guy who is going to make things right and restore Israel to its splendor. So for these shepherds to hear this must have been, well, indescribable.

Had some schmo in the market place told me he had found the Messiah, I might have laughed, but for 'Mr. Glowing Angel guy who just appeared out of now where in the middle of my flock of sheep' to come and say it, now there is something!

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

Now, if one angel terrified me, a multitude (or company) would send me running for the hills. Growing up I remember hearing of and seeing images of whole mobs of angels lighting up the sky like a summer day and singing in booming voices. Yet, recently I heard a remake of a classic Christmas carol and in it there is a refrain sung by the "angels". It is neither loud, nor particularly booming. Instead it is gentle, melodious in a quiet way – it is so well done that it overpowered most of my senses. I was drawn into it. Then I thought about Elijah who found God in the gentle whisper. Even Jesus himself, the son of God makes his first appearance on Earth in a very quiet, non glamorous way.

I envision the choir of heaven out in the field with the shepherds singing in a quiet way so indescribably beautiful that it overwhelms all of the senses – in a peaceful, awe inspiring way. A low singing whose harmonics send the gentlest of ripples across the soul.

It was enough that the shepherds were able to collect their wits, walk off the job (I don't know, maybe they took the sheep with them – either way they left the field) and explore the validity of what they had been told about a family in a barn and a baby who would save the day.

Digging out. . .

Fwooooooooooooosh!
The official sound of snow falling in one big sheet approximately 94 feet long, 16 feet high, and 12 inches deep off of a new metal roof.

Aaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!

The official sound of the idiot who thought it would be a good idea to try and pull just the bottom three inches off of the edge while standing beneath the roof.

i assure you. . . when your life is about to end, you DO see a bright white glow.

We got a good bit of snow, but the storm wasn't nearly as bad as they made it out to be. Or so i think. James has really become a great helper. He has his own snow shovel now and is responsible for the porches and part of one walk way. Dad (lazy old turd) takes care of all of the surfaces that the snow blower can dig out! Being someone who isn't really a big fan of internal combustion engines, i have found a new love for my happy little snow blower. Even with it's nine horses it takes me a little better than an hour to get everything on my "route" dug out.

Christmas is coming. The children are excited and the parents are begging for a silent night. . . Thank goodness for having Christmas day off!!!

If cattle and donkeys were carnivorous. . .

Christmas would be about breakfast in bed!

In a culture of bigger and better sometimes it is hard to think that the first Christmas poor (well until the Magi showed up with all the bling-bling). A young couple shacked up with the critters in the barn. A baby delivered, and for lack of a well prepared nursery with just the right colors, baby safe furniture, a baby monitor and fleece blankets he slept in the next best thing. . . the cows cafeteria tray! Sounds fabulous (OK maybe ghetto-fab)!

Definitely the birth scene appropriate for a king, and without a doubt the most picture perfect conditions (by our First World standard) for the son of God. That first Christmas definitely set the scene for the magnanimous Christmas celebrations and tree trimmings that children around the world wake up to in this day and age.

And this leads into one of the many reasons i love my wife. She is creative and an outside the box thinker. With Christmas coming we were still without even a tree up until yesterday. i was gung-ho to go get the biggest tree we could find. Leave it to my wife to suggest that we take the Monterey Cypress tree that we have been growing the last couple of years. By modern Christmas standards it is barely a modest little tree, worthy of Charlie Brown - it's branches can't support many of the ornaments that we have for it.

In many ways though, it reminds me of the first Christmas. It is small, seemingly weak, yet amazingly beautiful. Unlike the other Christmas trees which are dead (yes you evil revelers decapitated them ;-), our tree is very alive and growing. In all of it's simplicity it doesn't distract us from what is beautiful about this time of year. . . giving, loving each other, dancing (or trying really, really hard to get dizzy and fall down), and spending time together.
Plus. . . as you can see, we can still fit gifts beneath it. Gifts more precious than gold, frankincense or myrrh. Just please don't tell DHHS. . . (OK that was a joke. . .you can tell them if you want).

Grace. . .

OK, so the pictures have nothing to do with grace. . . but i have amazingly beautiful children! So there.

Darth Sissyous - Dark Lord of the tubby!

i had the pleasure last night of having a two and one half hour pow wow with the number two in my department. Ninety five percent of our session was me being informed that i represent everything that is wrong with our department. As it turns out if you work for certain branches of the government it is expected that you wont think, critique or vocalize ideas that maybe don't agree with the thinking of the powers that be. There is also the expectation that life exists with lesser importance than the job, and family friends and all of existence should come to a screeching halt when they need you.

Now for what it is worth, yes it is an important job that should (yes, i do mean 'should be' and not 'must be') be staffed all of the time. i also gleaned from the meeting that i have become (at work) someone that i don't necessarily like very much. Still i was ticked!

After about 10 hours of stewing (and i am writing this to help myself to decompress and organize my own thoughts) it became clear that grace in an easy environment is not all that impressive. The real miracle of grace is it's existence and indeed it's growth in environments that would kill any other good.

This doesn't make it any easier, but it does make it more necessary. i have to wonder. . . is the difference between Jesus and a doormat (i have often heard arguments as to whether Jesus was one or not) is that Jesus was silent in face of persecution when he had the power NOT to be, and a doormat is silent without the power to defend themselves. Hmmmm. . . .

Passion flower progress soon to follow. . .

Thursday night

i am supposed to be at work at the moment. i was scheduled for a training tomorrow but it got cancelled tonight. Usually i work Thursday night, but in light of the training they gave me the night off. Then they cancelled the training and didn't bother to call anyone till 7:30 pm. It was then that i was told that i could either get forced into work or use benefit time. Circumstances as they are (i haven't slept yet today) i can't work. . . so i took the night off. i hope i actually have the benefit time to spend. It's all good. i am public enemy number one at work right now anyway.

Homeschooling - probably not actually one word, but then maybe it is. i should look into that. i am home the bulk of the daylight hours, but Amy (the educator) is still wholly in charge of the kids education. i just play proctor. i was never good at things like English, math. . .blah, blah, blah boring. Science, history, social studies,civics. . . now there is some fun learning.

Today with the freezing rain and sleet coming down, we decided to take advantage of technology in the house. James has been really key on bald eagles lately, so today we studied bald eagles. James wants to call the president and ask if we can rehabilitate and raise eagles. i think it's brilliant.

Christmas, the cultural bad habit seems to be coming slowly to the house this year. In fact Amy is not all that hip to getting a tree (though i may strongly disagree). Still we are thinking a lot about giving, and Jesus birth, and living in faith. It is a strange transition from the Christmases from my childhood. my greatest hope is that the kids really come to appreciate the light of Christmas more than celebrating Christmas-lite!

The dismal reality of my job in the season of joy. . .

Where is light -

A child peeking through the curtain

From backstage -

Fires rage,

Famines drape themselves,

Across the land,

Disease feasts on the innocent,

Arrogance and ingnorance -

Those insidious brothers –

Lurking beneath the shadows of the moon

And doubt.

Mother and father belie the hollow grief

As they gasp to make their cries heard

From the bottomless bottomness

Of hopelessness

Yet feign confidence for their children

From their driveway of ashes, smoke and tears

The plate of dust and emptiness

The bed of medicine and death.

Where is light

That beaming smile

That infant's giggle

The warmth of spirits embracing

A chuckle amongst strangers.

If you can't laugh at everybody, you can't laugh at anybody

Well, winter is here. . . at least the cold bit.
Mother nature has tried tossing some snow at us a couple of times. We even had accumulation twice. But then as though the planet were bi-polar (!?!?!) it snapped into a warm spell and everything melted.
It's been quiet around the pharm - its too quiet. In a lot of ways we have had to reinvent ourselves as a couple, and as a family. To that end we have been discussing a lot with the children how we should carry on. What traditions we have developed together with the Hogans that we like (singing before meals together is one), and what things we might change.
Amy and i planted a passion flower together :-)
Amy had the brilliant idea to photograph it everyday so that we could later make a collage of it's growth.
More amazingly, last night we went to a concert together!! i can't remember the last time that i went to a "real" concert (coffee shop events don't count). Thanks to our good friends Dan and Nancy we went to see Jeff Dunham. Yup, the ventriloquist guy. At first i was a little worried. When he finally came out on stage (some guy fell and THRASHED his leg just after the opening act) he was tanked!!! i was worried that the puppets were more coherent than he. But as he got going . . . i needed Advil at the end. i don't think i have laughed that hard in a loooooong time!!

Happy Thank-Christma-ka!

Putting aside some of the controversial dualities of Jesus and his division between being both God and Man; Christmas is an amazing time to reground ourselves.

This season really could be combined into one long holiday rather than the two independent holidays of Christmas and Thanksgiving. Looking back at Jewish holidays, and in fact many holidays that originated in the Middle East they seldom last only a day – many last for a week or more. In reality our last autumn and our first winter holidays celebrate the same thing. Granted Christmas has taken on a number of different meanings over the last several centuries if you look deeply into both it and Thanksgiving, at the core of the each it the common theme of "giving".

At Thanksgiving time, we often think about being thankful. But look again at the title of the holiday. Thanksgiving is as much about giving as it is about being thankful. We can be thankful about anything with the wrong motives. Being thankful is important, but as the title implies, the day is about GIVING thanks. And to whom do we give thanks, and for what reason. There is deeply reflective element to Thanksgiving that I believe is often overlooked. There are so many things that we can think of to be thankful for on the surface, but does this thankfulness resonate to the deepest center of our beings. No one will ever be able to question us when we are sincerely thankful for something. Our thankfulness oozes from every pore and is evident to all. In contrast we can be thankful (or say that we are thankful) for a great many things on the surface, but do our actions betray a subdued sense of gratitude? Rather than a deeply felt, sincere thankfulness, do the things that we give thanks for require thought and suffer from a watered down "easy-answer syndrome"?

What about Christmas? Thanksgiving is a holiday of thankfulness and Christmas is the season of giving. While this is very true there is a deeper connection between these holidays and a stronger, more painful sense of giving than the Church has celebrated in a long time.

During the Christmas season we celebrate Jesus birth. We celebrate the beginning of a promise - the renewal of hope. We celebrate with song, and lights and think of shepherds and angel choruses. We carry on the tradition of providing gifts as the "wise men" gave, but there is something lost in translation about those lavish gifts. With all of our focus on babies and angels and glitter and giving we miss an opportunity to ponder a greater gift than gold or myrrh. We miss the practical reason for those gifts and we completely overlook the gifts given to the wise men, and indeed to the Church.

So why make it a month long holiday? This is the season that even Scrooge dips into his pockets to help a needy neighbor – a trait that would be fabulous should it find its way into our everyday routine, something that the Church should be celebrating year round. At the food pantries we see something precious and rare - full shelves. Clothes are collected for the needy, people offer a hand of hospitality, the elderly shut ins are visited and serenaded with carols, and it all really starts a few weeks before Thanksgiving carrying on until Christmas day, and sometimes a little beyond.

At the beginning of our month long celebration we give thanks and then we turn our attention to the giving that is at the center of Christmas. Jesus' physical life began with a gift, and ended with a gift. In many ways the cross was an easier gift than the manger. At the cross Jesus suffered a temporary spell of pain and suffering (and don't get me wrong – it was no picnic), but he could do so with perhaps a subdued excitement. For in His death he returned to His glory. He resumed his place at God's right hand, never again to leave the presence of the Father – and this after only three days (again . . . not like three days at Disneyland). At the manger however, he had to leave all of that. He had to separate himself from being in the direct presence of God the father, he had to become mortal. To feel pain, cold, hunger, to become "a little lower than the angels", and that for thirty three years. He had to give himself to the pain of having God the Father to look away from him while he submit himself to the most shameful of deaths. All of this given freely and willingly . . . by a king!

It is not a birth that we celebrate, but a gift – a complete gift. A gift of one's whole self. Beyond this amazing gift an ordinary man would have nothing left to offer, but God had more, he offered us redemption, healing, and a restored relationship with our creator.

Secondly he offered us our very first lesson – faith, an underlying theme that I was never taught during the Christmases of my youth. We hear of his meeting with the teachers of the law at an early age, we hear of his early ministry as a young man, but we should not overlook that he was teaching us about his nature and how we should live from the very beginning. A huge part of his gift to us was to give up his sovereignty, and humble himself, trusting the Father to provide everything for him. He was born into near poverty which adds a sometimes forgotten significance to the gifts of the Magi. The gifts of the wise men were not just random gifts from them, but provisions from His Father.

A king who had everything, surrendered himself completely to teach us to trust the Father, and the Father evidences his faithfulness to us by providing. Out of poverty, and the life of a blue collar worker, Jesus was always provided for. In our Christmas stories we often leave the manger scene and then pickup again in Egypt, but we never ask ourselves, how a peasant carpenter funded a surprise spurred of the moment trip from Israel to Egypt. The answer . . . God sent men with gifts at just the right moment to cover the costs of a trip to protect the One that he sent into the world. Jesus always had exactly what he needed, and often more than he needed. From that wealth he shared, and was able to provide for others. We never hear of Jesus panicking about where he might get food, or water, or lodging for the night. We read of a man who was content, calm, trusting in God, and God provided for not only Jesus, but also his companions again and again.

Not every person was called to live in poverty, as Mother Theresa, not everyone is called to live in community shunning personal property, not everyone will taste material richness – what is important is that we live in a manner, whether in poverty or great wealth, of total surrender - completely in faith, completely in love – taking only what we need and giving the rest to those who are without, and giving ourselves completely to God.

If we follow Jesus example in this season of giving by giving ourselves completely as Jesus gave himself, knowing that it will be painful at times, uncomfortable at times, it may even result in physical death – looking with faith at the blessings that it will provide – the gifts of the manger and the cross will only grow more precious to us.

Jesus' giving – his sacrifice - was not without pain. Jesus' giving and Jesus faith should be the measure of our giving – the difference between offering and sacrifice. An offering we give out of our wealth. A sacrifice comes with pain, loss, or inconvenience.

The verb sacrifice means, "To suffer loss of, give up, renounce, injure, or destroy especially for an ideal, belief or end," or, "To sell at a loss".

Paul urges us:
". . . in view of God's mercy to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship."

James reminds us:
"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this; to look after orphans and widows in their distress. . ."

Jesus commanded us:
"Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up treasures in Heaven. . . For where your treasure is, there your heart is also."

The writer of the proverbs reminds us:
"Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, "Come back later; I'll give it tomorrow" – when you now have it with you."

So I lobby for a national month long celebration! For the Church I pray that this becomes a lifelong celebration. Live a life of giving and of faith, it comes only with a promise of blessings. If we live with a sense of reckless abandon, shunning security and trusting God to provide for our needs we will come closer to God; we will see deeper depths of God's love and we will be the hands and feet of Jesus - spreading the good news that he was born to bring.

Rome is growing again. . .

i will preface with, i am NOT a republican. i will follow that statement with the following declaration. . . i am NOT a democrat. i am however entertained by the governmental process and even more so, the public's response to government.

WE ARE IDIOTS!

i have been listening to the press conference regarding the incoming administration's security council.

Let me shorten it's content for those of you with ADHD.

Blah, blah, blah, we are great. Blah, blah, blah, we have assembled the best team ever. Blah, blah, blah we are in unique times, but we are great. Blah, blah, blah we are great and we are focused on preserving the USA and other countries will monitor themselves. Blah, blah, blah we are going to send our forces into other countries to fix their problems for them, because their problems are our problems. Blah, blah, blah. . .

We eat this crap up!! Did anyone else actually listen to this? Sometimes i think the public at large just watches governmental press conferences with the volume down.

We are not in anymore unique times than we have ever been in. The only difference in our "unique" times is that they are happening now and we are involved. So far this administration is uniquely the same. The formalities are the same, the lingo is the same, the rhetoric is the same (all of this so far). . . Where is the change?
i guess that i expected real change (which may still happen), not just different decisions. So far it is looking to me like someone who knew how to throw out slogan's and statements that would get the people inspired (and how hard is that given the current administrations competence! Does it surprise us any that ambitious people say what they have to say in order to meet their own goals. . .

Ooh! Gotta go, Obama is now back tracking on what he said about Clinton during the campaign, vs. his statements justifying his choice of her as Secretary of State. . .

This could be good.

Just when i thought we wouldn't see snow before Christmas

i always thought that it would be different for homeschoolers! You know. . . they don't actually go to school, hence no snow days. Apparently not. If you can't find your children in the morning, check the weather. At the first sign of snow they may well be attached to the windows.

The many plumage cycles of the T-bird

One of many things that i am VERY thankful for this time of year is the ability to grow some of our own food. i can't speak for the kidd-os, but it makes me appreciate what we eat (and that we can eat) all the more.

The children tend to think that i am nuts anyway. . .. . . but i try to remind them of the importance of food, respecting it, knowing where it came from and how it was grown.

So sit down little children and i will tell you the tale of this thanksgiving's bird. . .

A long time ago, in a spring that seems impossibly far away (especially since it is snowing outside right now) on a farm in the mid west, a mumma turkey laid some eggs. The eggs sat in a warm location (probably an incubator) until some tapping and movement told the farm hands that little our little baby turkeys were about to hatch.

These baby turkeys (chicks) were double checked for health and divided by breed. They were then put into a box and shipped to our post office. Baby turkeys can go for three days without food because just before they hatch the drink up what is left of the yolk in there shell (and i always thought it was just to make more room). The box full of babies is taken by the postman and delivered to our local post office where we pick them up and take them home.

Because we live two feet south of the arctic circle, we have to pick up our chicks from the post office as soon as they get there. Because these are not wild turkeys and they aren't with their mother, they are not well suited to live outside. So. . .

. . . we end up with extra housemates for six weeks. Over all it isn't a bad experience. They are little and cute and make adorable little "peeps". They live in a relatively small enclosure and keep at a toasty 90 degrees. . . while the rest of us freeze (there is still snow on the ground).

We establish rules early on about where to sleep and eat, and who does the dishes. But it's like having children and eventually our little "friends" decide that they are not content with their new digs. . .
. . . and so they work together and break outta the clink. This is not terribly disturbing save for their total disregard for the wonders of modern sanitation. While turkey pooh properly composted makes a fabulous fertilizer, it is not nearly as welcome all over the breezeway.

At this point they are losing the down that helps them look sooo very cute and they start developing feathers. They also commit the heinous crime of growing. They get bigger and less cute. . . and bigger and more stinky. . . and bigger and louder. . . and bigger and better at escaping. . . and bigger, and messier. Eventually the crimes pile up to the sky and we have no choice but to send them. . .




















. . . to the big house.

And they were happy! It seems that turkeys are not at all suited for civilized living and much prefer to run in the grass and eat bugs and whatnot. Still, they expect us to feed them, and they ate. . .


















. . . and they ate. . .
. . . and they grew. . .

. . . and they grew. . .

Until finally came that fateful day. The garden had long since past. All of the greens had been consumed. The corn, carrots, and broccoli all blanched and frozen. All that remained were the pumpkins, gourds, and the now remains of a small corn forest, brown and dried. The only living remnants of a wannabe farm were those pterodactyl sized creatures roaming in the pen outback. Their appetite unappeasable - 150 lbs of food a week. The time was drawing near for all of God's people to give thanks for all of the taste morsels that he had given us.

And so we took a long car ride to a small building in a town far away, where a small number our feathery friends, led by their captain "buddy" met the maker. . . and their processor too. . .

We know they had a good life. They were loved, and tended too. Aloud to run and fly (as best they could). They didn't suffer the unimaginable cruelty of growing up on a corporate farm in unspeakable conditions. No Buddy and his friends had the best of feed and kindest of caretakers. Then were loved then. . .

. . . and they are loved now.

And we are thankful for all of the good, and tasty, things that God has given us!

Smurfs Beware!!!

It finally happened. . .

Winter! Grrrrrr.

OK not really. i actually like winter. It is that time of year when all the poets suffer from a deplorable excess of melancholy. Soccer moms around the world suffer from Christmas shopping-itis, and dad's around the world drink more heavily as they watch their bank accounts sink into the deep abyss that keeps the beast we call an economy happy.

It has been steadily in the twenties for the past several mornings. Even small bodies of moving water are developing a slim layer of ice across their tops. All but the mentally disturbed ducks have headed for the Caribbean to tan for the winter, and the bear sign in my back yard (meaning "poop" and what not - not a sign that reads, "bear") is dwindling.

It's the season that we get our fill of pumpkin and sweet potato pie. Turkeys run in fear (unless they are fenced in like the poor birds out back - but they have earned a residential pardon), and we never quite get enough of apple cider that we drink till our bellies hurt. Dreams of caroling entertain our thoughts, but few muster the moxie to actually do it.

This year we are thankful for jobs, and for hobbies (like the food pantry which is work that we don't get paid for but like doing. . . . and work is work that we do and get paid for it and usually hate. . . how odd - which is not to say that our employers should stop paying us. i am sure that such an action would NOT encourage morale). We are thankful that we had an opportunity to live with our friends the Hogans. We are thankful for all of our friends at Bellvale, and in Lewiston and for all of the things we have learned from them, and shared in with them, and the time that we have had to spend together. We are thankful for family who we seem to hear from more this time of year than usual (especially from my baby sister who turned thirty yesterday)!
We are thankful for excited children who wake up every morning and check for snow. We are thankful when we look back at the year and see all that God has allowed us to accomplish. And. . . we are thankful that we can make plans for what things may come. . . especially in the '09 garden plot.

Lucky is thankful for all of the kids that leave their coats on the floor!! (This was NOT a staged photo - she did this all by herself. . . . dingy dog!)

On a darker note. . .

In Maine in the winter time the sun sets early. Earlier and earlier as December comes along, then we slowly regain the light. i am sad when a powerful metaphor loses it's potency and becomes a cliche. Dark and light - there is a powerful metaphor there.
To any nay-sayers just consider the season. The light wanes earlier and the cold comes on - and not just cold, but a bitter chill that bites at your skin and bones. If you live in the north, you know what i am saying. For those of you away i challenge you. Spend an hour in a room with no windows. Sit awhile with no source of light and no distractions and consider the dark. . . and the light.

i have considered the dark. i have been thinking about it a lot lately. i was a nay-sayer to seasonal depression, but i have seen the light, and the dark affect people - affect me. This is a darker entry. i have found myself in a bad way spiritually lately. i have found myself drawing to isolation, to the negative, to the dark. my thoughts recently always immediately gravitate so much to the dark that i have to openly argue with myself to draw away - back toward the positive, the light.
The analogy of the being wound tight resonates strongly with me. i feel such pressure internally. Problem is that where does it go?
How can it be used for the good? There is no place better than here. . . not that comes immediately to mind. i am ashamed that it must go anywhere with a negative force, but an alternative eludes me. So here is a list of things i hate:

i hate war, i hate fighting, apathy, greed, isolationism, prejudices, the destruction of nature, possession, possessiveness, over use, consumption, non-recyclable items, plastic, control, power, busyness, money, economics in general, fear, nationalism, elitism, laziness, most technology (i do however really like hot water heaters), intolerance, people being offended, offending people, the infrastructure that we have trapped ourselves in, rudeness, the government, the need for the government, all the stupid laws that we really don't need, lack of common sense, all the ways that we try to fool ourselves (like the dividers in the roadway that we paint green so that it will be pretty instead of just planting grass - which is the affect that we were gunnin' for anyway), all the false idols that we set up for ourselves, all of the rules, and laws and conveniences that we tell ourselves we need, believing that we need all of the rules, and laws, and conveniences that we have set up, the way people create a way of thinking and then turn off the idea that there may be another and possibly better way to do things, the way we water down words till they have no real meaning anymore, hate, the word hate, the idea of hate. . . .

What i do like is the guy who hauls the recycling bins who just out of genuine kindness finds a bag of returnable bottles and offers them to a person who looks like they are in need, instead of just hauling them off with the rest of the recycling, the bank lady who tolerates an "estimated three minute hold time" to go the extra mile to help a customer, a child who, in spite of the fact that his father just lost his marbles because the father is old and cranky and forgot how to be a child, forgives his father and snuggles with him anyway. . .

Sunday night. . .

Vacation is over. . . almost. There are something like twenty four hours before i return to work. Ugh.
The Hogans were in full move out mode today. Appropriately excited about their new digs, they are staying there tonight for the first time as "official owners" of the property.

Back here on the pharm, it was windy as i'll get out today. Poor sissy had a heck of a time outside. She really wanted to be out with dad and brother, but the wind was just so wild that it would blow her hat off and scare her.
In spite of the wind and the "colder than i would like" temperatures, we (Owen and i) managed to get the old garden fence moved. We will need to buy more supplies to finish it properly, but we have made good progress for this season. All that is left is to decide whether or not to try and till the new section once before the ground freezes. Keeping with Amy's wishes, i brought the garden in a little bit. She thought the new layout was too big, and like usual, she is probably right!
Still i am stubborn (or is it determined) and i intend to try a larger than is prudent garden. Nothing like organically, home grown veggies in the middle of April, plus it keeps the grocery bill down. . . .

Anyone else out there having any fun autumn adventures or upgrades??

On a lighter note. . .

i finally found the camera! Ha ha!! World beware.

Looking outside the window it is windy. It wasn't at 0530 this morning. i took a walk along the river as the sun was rising and man was it peaceful! We live between two sets of rapids, and when the dam upriver is open the water can be so turbulent. This morning however was a totally different story. Looking at the water along the shore you could see the undercurrent and it was quite obvious that the river was moving, but you would never have known it to look at the surface. The river was calm and peaceful in a way that those words fail to adequately define.

The Hogan's got the call today. After months of toiling, they finally have a REAL closing date on Friday. Again, it is bitter sweet. Our friends in Lewiston will absolutely benefit from our loss. And while we hate to see them go. . . we share them gladly.

i talked to my friend Matt (the guy who dubbed us a cult. . . playfully) and shared with him our lament. He told me that even if we split up we would still be a cult, we would just have "campuses" (or something like that). Our spirits were so lifted that we put our religious regalia back on . . .

and returned to our business. . .

Everyone that is except Amy. She never made it back from Bellvale. It is rumored that after a long day of washing potatoes and doing all sorts of unspeakably evil things to the garden variety vegetables, that some of the "Watchers" that live in the fridge. . .

placed a hex on her, turning her into a pumpkin. . .

Sustainability means balance

At 4:22 in the afternoon the sun has set, the light is rapid fading from the sky. It shouldn't be this dark this early. . . in my not so humble opinion. But what nature says should happen, should happen. We were just outside, Jacob and i, looking at the existing garden and where the additions to the garden will be. It is growing a bit. In fact when it is done it will be just shy of three times the square footage of our house - Its both exciting and terrifying. After the terrible neglect that this years garden took, i fear that a larger garden might be a fools errand!
Amy and i have been talking with the staff at the local university. They have asked us to consider organizing (or helping to organize) the university garden. Its a very tempting and worthwhile, yet daunting task. They have been looking at a parcel of land that is 25 acres and was formerly an alpaca farm that the university acquired a few years ago and has no plans for at the moment. The food services folks have tried some small garden projects on it the last couple of years, but want to go whole hog with it this year. The food service division is a contract company that is part of an outfit that is very interested in local, sustainable, organic farming, and food bio security. The goal is to produce as much food as we can to be used in the school's cafeteria! Their thinking seems to be right up our alley!
So the question remains, "Can we balance our respective jobs, volunteer at the school and still make time to give a go at a much larger garden in our backyard?"
Amy says, "No, we should think about scaling back a bit."
i don't yet know what the right answer is. At the moment nothing is set in stone, and as we desire to produce more of our own food it would make sense to have a couple of plans in place and later choose the most logical.

We (Jacob and i) talked about the birds becoming more sustainable as well. Our flocks right now are larger than they should be. Space wise we are all set, but the birds are definitely NOT cost efficient - hence, not financially sustainable. We were thinking that we could sell eggs and perhaps meat as well. This would help to offset the increasing cost of corn which seems to be the most painful pinch on my pocket at the moment (maybe with exception to taxes!). As corn rises, poultry feed rises. We have a large number of birds for a "hobby farm" and need to figure out where to go next. . . . oh yeah, and i think we have an extra rooster. . . stupid bird!

i love conversations like this for two reasons:

1) It's good to jump start young people's thinking about sustainability and agriculture now. When they are adults, the world may be a very different looking place.
2) i love planning things!!! Especially next years yummies!!!!

WE the PEOPLE

Blessedly the transition to socially accepted isolation has been a slow one. One day the house is totally void of Hogans, and way too quiet. The next day they are all here, and then the next there are just a handful of them. As they are working on their new house i have had a lot of time to reflect on our months together. There are a lot of lessons, all of which i am thankful for. Obviously our circumstances here are/were not ideal for the number of folks in a three bedroom house, but there is so much that is/was beautiful about what has been happening here in the last eight or so months.

With the presidential election and the state of affairs of the world i have been thinking a lot about the "split" (i don't like to think of it as a split because we are such good friends and we do love each other terribly! To me a split implies hatred and hard feelings.). As we reenter isolationism as two families it seems horribly unnatural to me and honestly i am having a pretty hard time with both the volume of the house decreasing and the idea that we will be in a place once again where we are having to possess the same things that the guy next door has. In some neighborhoods (and ours is one of those) folks will share some or even many items between neighbors, yet still so many things are duplicated needlessly when we could share together. Our need to possess and to keep up with the Jones', or to one up our neighbors is what is destroying our planet for our children and any chances or teaching our children real peace and love between neighbors.

The elections are now done and over and i have been listening to many of my friends lament how president Obama wants to turn this country into a socialist nation. And they are afraid and resistant, and yet these are the same friends that claim to follow Jesus. i am left wondering, "Wouldn't Jesus want us to be a socialist country?" Not a govermentally forced socialist country but a country of sharing a redistribution caused by an outpouring of love and spontaneity from the heart. Perhaps that is the state of the Church in America. We suffer, but not from persecution, or starvation, but of excess and a inappropriate sense of entitlement.

i didn't vote for Obama. i didn't vote for McCain either. . . i did vote though. While i don't agree wholly with the candidate (sort of) that i voted for, i don't agree with the other two guys either. A government of the people, for the people, and by the people is not a government that leads a people but a people that leads a government. To vote and then consider yourself relieved of all other duties is arrogant. People that think or live this way deserve to live in an oppressively taxed over regulated country.
People instead should steer the government by their actions. When the people start living out the principles taught by Jesus the government will have no option but to follow. To feed the hungry, to love each other, to take care of each other, to tend to the earth, to abolish oppression, to teach each other, to look after our neighbors (all of them local AND global) before ourselves, to speak with one voice, to be the change in the world that we want to see - These are the things that the government is arguing over making us do. . . because WE have FAILED to first do these things ourselves.

Some watery tart throwing swords from a pond is no basis for a system of government!

There is a duck in my garage. . . in a rabbit cage on the eve of history being made.
Oh sure there is some silly election taking place somewhere, but who really cares? What's really exciting is that the chicken coop now has an officially water proof roof. No more silly looking third world-tarp topped-shanty. Now those spoiled birds have a two room suite fully furnished with amish-esque wooden nesting boxes, wall to wall roosting bars, private entryways and picture windows.
Life continues to be exciting on the pharm. Bruce the mystery neighbor continues to cut down our spruce trees for us, opening up the view of the river and the kids are endlessly entertained by the new wind mill that our neighbor Mark set up just across the cement brook.
The elusive 'buck' that has been rumored to run around the neighborhood has finally been seen. He was feeding with his share of little lady does back in the swamp. All those years of rumors and blurry photographic evidence may soon be vindicated if the boys in blaze orange (the hunters) finally have their way.
In the meantime the Hogans just sent an email from their secret hidden (is that redundant) base. Word on the street is that after all of their labor and days of high nerves are finally paying off!! The title to their future kingdom has been located and is on its way to being officially signed by all of the powers that be. Sadly this means that next week will likely be our last together :-(.
And it isn't sounding good for McCain. At least retirement is still an option.

Stay tuned. . . next week - Why is it a "fourgone conclusion". Or - Americas obsession with oppressing "odd numbers".






. . . yes, i know that i spelled it wrong.

Back to. . .well. . . it isn't quite reality!

Nothing racks the brain (and the emotions) worse than returning to the hum-drum routine of "normal" life after a weekend in a place that you love to be. It's a confusing feeling - energized and excited about what life holds in the coming months and at the same time longing to return to where you were just moments ago. 

 

i am sure that up here in the great white north folks must be tiring of hearing my constant chattering about community. About the benefits of living together and serving one another while learning to invite Jesus to work through us. About finding a much more sustainable way of living by stripping away the excesses of individualism (and by this i mean ownership, and not personalities!). About regressing technologically in some respects. . . so as to unclutter landfills and make even our refuse more ecologically friendly. About simplifying and spending more time devoted to relationships and less time devoted to our affairs with our televisions and computers (ironic isn't it - but hey, i am at work). Still i dream of community forming and growing. i dream of brother and sisterhood developing in new depths of love even here in New England. i dream of a love that cancels out debts and provides enough for one another and an excess that flows out and over to those in need. A contagious love.

 

And hope remains.

 

In our time with our dear friends we had many conversations about how we should live and how we struggle to find that. We spent some time reflecting, and we spent some time stacking boxes, unstacking boxes, talking politics and the economy (no big suprise there given the season) cooking, washing potatoes, looking at rocks, and leaves and red efts, and singing. . .

i will give a more thorough report in the coming days, but now we are back and i am excited about the future. Yes winter is fast approaching. In fact i just saw on the news that parts of New York were buried under a foot of snow. . .i hope Bellvale was spared :-)

There are a slew of projects around the pharm to do, the turkeys are getting big, the chickens are laying and we have the food pantry and deer season to keep us busy for the time. . .

 

i love this time of year!!!!!

 

 

It's alive!!!!

OK, it's not alive, but IT IS DONE!!!!!!

All most two months to the day that we undertook this silly project we have finally completed it. . . and just in the nick of time. The roof has been water tight, and likely snow tight for two months, but it was never finished. With much thanks to the Kurtz, the Breards, the Bevins, the Mcleods, the Hogans (of course), the Morelands, and Chuck (the wonder engineer!) we were able to get the roof up on that first weekend. Alas, Mr. roof delivery guy forgt to give us twelve feet of flashing. A month later he delivered us a replacement ten feet. . . oops! Then Last Friday an extra ten foot section of rake edge came. Oh the joy! (Not to steal an expression from some old explorers).
Amy, Chris and i got up, did some tweaking, some installing, and some caulking (please cure, please cure, please cure, please cure!!!) And all of this as the temperatures have suddenly dumped, and snow is forcast for Wednesday morning.

So now i move into two plus weeks of vacation with one major project off of the books. God be praised. Autumn is here and now i feel like i can finally sit back and enjoy it.

The Big Five are just two weeks away from meeting their "processor" so to speak. That will be another huge relief. We are currently going through just over 150 pounds of food a week between the chickens and the turkeys. When the Hogans move they will take twelve of the birds, but the bulk of the food is being eaten by the Big Five. So it won't completely eliminate the need for feed, but it will help quite a bit. One of the major upsides is that all of that feed going out will finally be coming back in. Though i confess it has long been a goal of mine to raise a turkey that was forty pounds dressed weight, i don't believe i have done it yet. Our current record is 38 pounds. We will see if we can at least match that. The other turkeys (those that we aren't using to start our own flock should be ready to go by Christmas).

That's all for now. . . off to bed. Hurray!!!

One stalwart maple. . .

It's October, not that i have need to remind anyone, but it feels an
awful lot like late November. The wind smells different. It finds it
way deeper into the bones than a normal wind. The undergrowth is dying
back and forests are clearing, and the leaves are turning. We are very
near what the tourism folks like to call "peak foliage". Meaning that
the most leaves have turned to reds, oranges, and yellows and the like
at the same time. It makes for extraordinary beautiful sunsets. This
time of year while the sun dazzles while tucking into the horizon, the
opposite horizon gives it's best effort to rival with a glowing
bronze, lending to the notion that the whole skyline is ablaze.

On our way to work tonight, Jessy and i stopped for coffee, and there
near the coffee shop was a lone maple standing resolute in it's
longing to hold onto to summer. It was a modest little fella, not
standing more than twelve, or so feet tall and not yet possessing that
imposing canopy of some of it's older brothers and sisters. One might
miss it were they not paying too close attention.

This is the time of year when my usually hyper-obnoxious nature gives
way to an equally irritating melancholy. The ol' mind tends to dwell
on what was, mourn what isn't to be this year, and curse the coming
cold. i would diagnose it as seasonal depression, but this is my
favorite time of year. . .the harvest is in, the forests are passable,
the wildlife is scurrying around preparing for a long nap (lucky
buggers!!). This year is already proving to be tough. my dreams have
been tormented as of late. The Hogans are just days away from moving
and it will be lonely in the house again.

The last size months have allowed me to take stock in where i am, and
where my family is. This has been a time of putting our money where
our mouth is and bringing the reality of life in (tight) community to
bear along with the honeymoon dreams of it. i have to confess that our
report card doesn't afford the marks that i would have liked. Our time
together has brought to light our weaknesses (as well as our
strengths), and stretched all of us in many directions. We have had to
face variables and obstacles of every kind. And in many ways we
succeeded. We have made amazing friends and watched each others
children grow. i can say that i have not had a friend as close as
Chris in a great many years.

i am exceedingly thankful for our time together and now i hope that we
can take inventory of what we have learned about ourselves and grow
from it. Who knows what the future holds. . . only God is good.

Missing God. . .

Tonight was wonderfully inspiring.
i have allowed God to sit on the back burner for far too long. It is one thing to believe or not to believe, each person has to make their own decision about that. It is completely different to believe and not to do anything with it.
i wish that i was a better orator. More often than not i am ill-prepared, when i am not ill-prepared i am absent (or wandering) minded. When i am not that i am just hopelessly lost in life. Tonight it fell on me to "moderate" and i was the perfect mix of all of these things. In the long run the conversation went directions that i didn't intend, and probably i said things that the were interpreted completely differently than i planned. In the long run i drew out of it as much and perhaps more than some of the others. i definitely didn't intend to make it about me. . . but i think that is where it went. Some good statements were made though. Really they were truths that i have thought about for a long time that finally got verbalized in a great way (i didn't say any of them - that was icing on the cake).
The Church is the gathering of disciples of Jesus. We come together to share how Jesus is moving in our lives - and that encourages us, and iron sharpens iron. This being a new and enlightened age perhaps it should be titanium sharpens titanium.
After we fell to chaos (we were done talking anyway) i was taking out the compost from the kitchen, and i sang. It was the first time that i have worshiped -really worshiped- in a long time. i forgot that i missed it. i forgot that i missed God. i know that i am not a disciplined man. i know that there is so much of me that is not broken. i know that there is so much of me that will never be broken because i am not disciplined enough to be broken.
i have found that as i seek God through being the Church, rather than being part of a greater organized collective. Not that there is anything wrong with belonging to the organization, i simply have found a glass barrier that needs to be conquered so as to find a new depth to God. It is hard though to find the balance of living and belonging. Maybe that doesn't make any sense. . . i don't know.
i do know that i miss God, but he has never been farther than right there, i just have to open my eyes and love
On a closing thought. . . the garden wasn't wholly unproductive. Yummy goodness lurking in our backyard. i enjoy finding God here at home. Peace, Love Joy, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Gentleness and Self control. . . and sewing, hoeing, growing, and just sitting back and watching in amazement at all creation.
.

When the economy hurts the local grower. . .

i love my wife. She is such a gracious and loving partner!! As we
learn to cope with the passing of our friends (they are moving not
dead) we have been talking about what the ol' homestead might look
like in the coming year.
The new chicken coop is all but done. The birds have moved in and are
looking a bit happier, minus the fact that they have to be 'cooped up'
(forgive the farm-pun) for a couple days so they know where to come
home to at night.
The turkey flock is officially established. The 'Big Five', as we
refer to them, have a date with destiny in middle November. They are
the big five because they were and emergency purchase after the great
raccoon raid of '08 liquidated our our flock in the course of just one
night. These 5 are giant white turkeys, a breed that has over the
years been raised so that they maximize growth and breast meat at the
cost of all things natural and beautiful. The largest of the birds
will have a dressed weight of about 40lbs, but is completely
incapable, because of it's massive size, of breeding naturally.
Likewise if grown (the way they are supposed to) they will eventually
grow to large for their legs to support their body weight. The good
news is that they are not genetically enhanced (how that is possible i
will never know) and we will have them butchered long before they
loose the ability to walk.
In the meantime our replacement flock arrived and are doing well. They
are heritage breed Narragansett and Standard Bronze birds, capable of
walking, breeding, and even flying!

So why does my wife love me?? Well, in spite of the dismal failure
that was the garden this year; overgrown with weeds, and completely
neglected after i allowed myself to become way too busy this year, she
has consented to tripling the size of the garden next year (we are
gonna need some more compost). There must be something in the water. .
.wait. . .i don't think that was water.
This summer reminded us that we have allowed ourselves to stretch
ourselves so thin that we have forgotten a lot of the things that are
so very important to us. One of which is providing a portion of our
food (and food for all of the wanderers that make their way by the
homestead).

So that's the news. . . for the moment. i apologize for the lack of
photos recently. i will try to get out this weekend. Honestly i am
getting in the habit of not having access to a computer at the house,
so all of my posts will be from my secret remote location. A land
where i wont be able to download photos. . . for a while at least.

Bush can keep his oil. . .

And the Texans can have THEIR black gold. i have found my own, and a new source of therapy. Yes, tack one more issue onto my list of disorders. i spent the morning turning over a concoction of wood shavings, grass trimmings, chicken poo, and old food scraps. i broke a little sweat and rediscovered some muscles that summer allowed me to forget. Yes it was like shoveling snow, only in the summer. . . and there was no snow. But what i found as i got toward the bottom of my stinky little pile was a hole lot of black gold of my own - moist, dark rich compost rich soil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It looked happy, smelled happy, felt happy. . . and no i didn't taste it. But i bet next years veggies will sing praises of it's yumminess.

Not since childhood do i remember being so overjoyed about dirt.

So here is to dirt, the stinky gross slimy things that make it up, and the otherwise really irritating little critters that creep and crawl and help the gross things metamorphosis into it.

It's never to early to start planning for next years garden

So somebody called me a "wanna-be hippie"!

And i suppose they are right, most of the time i am just a wanna be. .
. i can live with that.
James and i ventured with some friends to the Common Ground Faire (yes
i spell Faire with and 'E' - it's old fashion, but i like it that way.
Plus it beats: 'phaire'. So consider yourselves lucky!). In our
travels we were fortunate to run across some of our friends, who are
really more hippie than i am, and we missed some friends who were also
there.
It was a phenominal time. It was the most like being home that i have
felt in a long time. For a shin-dig in "Practically nowhere - Maine"
it was like being in a mini-Santa Cruz.
i think what i enjoyed the most was going to a faire that represented
so many different kinds of crafts and livelyhoods that were all so
tied to being close to earth. Farming, gardening, animal husbandry,
wood working, rock sculpting, metal work, leather tanning. There was
an openess about lifestyles (particularly eating habits), with a focus
on doing things in a way that is not harmful to the planet.

Coming home i lament that Amy was in Wisconsin. i am so inspired to
live more simply and sustainably! And did i mention composting
toilets. . .

Regaining my bearings

So the Hogan's have found a house in Lisbon that they are really keen
on. If the Lord wills it they will be moving into their very own house
here in a month or so. I am sad about it, but it is a good thing.
There are family obligations on both sides that make the transition to
single family life a necessity for the moment, but the conversation
continues.

In some ways it is a good thing. I have learned so very much in our
time together . . . one such lesson is my own need for solace. I have
also been really inspired to continue to reduce (our belongings), and
get away from non sustainable, non renewable goods and wares.

As the days usher in autumn I am, as usual, a bit reflective and more
pensive than normal anyway. We will have to see if we can't develop
good habits now while the mood and the season is right so that we are
prepared for the always busy summer season.

A poem from this night:

There is a quiet hollow in the back of my mind.
It is dark save for the lamp whose whispering light
Lights back and forth wandering through the gentle breeze
A chair padded and comfy grows up from the moss
And a maple stump serves the butler's part for to rest on it
My books or tea, whatever I may fancy should stay there a while.
Like wood sprites in twinkles flit back and forth
From dewy pool to jagged tree bark
Are whispers and hints of memories
And there I like to sit – in the mist
In the memories and murmurs
In the quiet and the dark and the lamplight
And listen.

A visit from Hannah

So here we are, the first hurricane of the season. . . for us northerners. Of course by the time these hurricane thingys reach us they are nothing more than rain storms.
i loooooooove our new roof. It's metal. If you are outside getting soaked, the raindrops hitting the roof sound like a chorus of crickets! Inside - it sounds like we are at camp. i love the sound of rain on a metal roof.

Back to listening and enjoying unaided by technology. . .

Swinging into autumn

The days of the falling leaves are creeping their way into the forefront of our minds. Heating oil season is coming the days are moderating the nights are cool. Mark - the fella across the asphalt river says that we have moved into drought season . . . noting that we haven't had rain in like a week. . . what a stretch considering the way this summer has gone.

The Hogan's have found a house that they are really key on in Lisbon. They really need to be closer to Lorna's Nana and there are just no properties that have opened up that would be big enough for all of us. The community conversation is still ongoing and we welcome all, but we are also thinking about our sanity as the winter months are in the shadows of our minds!

It will be a time of mixed sadness and blessings. It is hard to separate, especially with those that we love so deeply, but it will also allow us all to take stock in what we have learned about ourselves and to take stock in what we have and be thankful to the Lord!

One of the things that i love about living in New England is the seasons. Just when i think that the seasons are too short i have the overwhelming feeling of anticipation for the next season. Already as i lament the passing of summer (a season this year that mimicked far too closely the calls of spring), i am looking forward to apple picking, pumpkins, deer season, sitting in the house with a hot cup of tea reading to the kids. . . arts and crafts. Why is it that autumn is the artsy season???? Already Amy is finishing off her first quilt of the season. It's great. i love autumn!!!

That's enough for now . . . i have to go fight kids into bed!! My little "not-sleepers" are lurking about.