Putting Up 2011

So, have you been canning much this year? 

I've been working my hiney off canning produce.  Not much in the way of green beans, but tons of tomatoes, peppers, applesauce, potatoes, corn, etc, etc, etc.   

It's a lot of work right now, that's for sure.  And there's no hiding the dirty, cut hands with what can only be described as "Perma-stain" from pulling weeds, skinning tomatoes and snapping beans.  But it's so worth it. 

A dear friend, Good Ole Aunt Suz, asked me last year what we did during the winter, after a spring and summer busy with gardening and canning.

We sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labor.  And the fruits are delicious.     

Anyway,  in case you missed it, I'm tallying my hard work on the Putting Up link listed near the top of my blog.  Check out my hard work and let me know what you've been putting up.
  

Small Is Beautiful

As you know, we helped to move Good Ole Aunt Suz into her new apartment on Saturday and I'm overjoyed to have her so close by! For a housewarming gift, Mara and I cut some fresh sunflowers that she and Isaac grew in their little clothesline gardens. These sunflowers were so beautiful! Reds, oranges, browns, yellows, stripes! We arranged them in a vase, tied on a pretty bow and filled in the spaces with tarragon that is growing like mad by the garden shed. Pretty. Heartfelt. Inexpensive.

Everyone thought they were fake. LOL.

Suzanne's Aunt Debbie thought they were from a florist shop.

No one could believe they were homegrown by 2 little kids and lovingly arranged by mom.

Then Aunt Debbie asked if we lived on "a big farm or something." That still makes me laugh. I love Aunt Debbie.

I told her "no, we live on a 1.189 acre lot" but that we live, plant, grow intensively. We pack as much life into that 1.189 acre lot as we possibly can, and from time to time, annex a bit of space behind the back fence, but only if it's for the greater good :)

When you say the word 'homesteading' or 'self-sufficient', people have a preconceived idea; they picture a place like Montana, 300 acres, a cow, an outhouse, no neighbors for as far as the eye can see. They imagine an old dually, wide open pastures, white-washed fences and apple pies cooling on the windowsills.

But when it comes to homesteading, small can be beautiful too. Small-scale homesteading forces you to rethink how things 'should be' and imagine how things 'can be.' It forces you to think outside the box and use every bit of space available to the benefit of your home. It makes you cherish the small and sweet and reject that which is unproductive, wasteful, boastful and supersized.

I love our little bit of earth. It's small, but beautiful. We landscape our yard with edibles; sage, grapevines and blueberries instead of dusty millers, climbing roses and boxwood. The wasted space around the clothesline posts is perfect for the kids' gardens. The farm fence is a trellis for wild raspberries, honeysuckle and bittersweet vine. The narrow strip of land between the garden and the back fence is a perfect location for blackberries, strawberries and raspberries. We have open spaces for Charlie Brown football and a grape arbor to hide in when you don't want the world to know where you are.

Our little bit of earth comforts us, both body and soul; with spring berries, summer herbs, fall fruits. In winter, we have a sheltered place to gather in and watch the front loaders clear the drifts from our roads. It's where Isaac toddled his first steps to get yellow pear tomatoes from the garden. It's where Mara disappears behind the row of blackberries in early summer, eating til her face and hands are stained purple. It's where a pregnant me nearly cleared a 4 ft fence when a 14 month old Isaac reached down to pick up a snake. (Okay, admittedly, I could do without the snakes.)

Homesteading isn't about huge properties, flocks of animals and outbuildings.

It's about using what you have to nourish your mind, body and soul.

It's about feeding the spirit of those you love with simple pleasures.

It's about knowing who you are and where you're going.

It's about Thanksgiving; remembering from Whom all good things come.

And most importantly, it's about recognizing that this beautiful life is only a layover. Our eternal homestead waits for us at the end of the road.

Coming Home

I had the happiest, most joyful weekend this weekend, one that I had been anticipating for many years and I simply must share it with you!

This weekend, my best friend Suzanne moved home.

I haven't discussed Suzanne much on my blog, mainly out of respect for her privacy. She probably doesn't want all of Bloggerland to know who she is and what she does. Today however, I make an exception.

Suzanne and I have been friends since my junior year in high school. I can't remember how exactly we hooked up because we were on such opposite ends of the spectrum, but however it happened, by my senior year we were almost always together. After graduation, I married, and she went to college out of town. We lost touch a time or two, but it was never for very long.

About 7 years ago, right about the time the kids were coming along, Suzanne moved to Washington DC, and though it broke my heart, she had such opportunity there! We continued to keep in touch and whenever she was home visiting family, we'd spend time together and she'd visit with Isaac and Mara. Although my kids were receptive to 'Aunt' Suz, they didn't know who she was because they only saw her a time or two a year.

All that is about to change.

God answered so many prayers this summer when Suzanne was offered a position at OSU and she moved home from DC. Suzanne is now just a 30 minute drive away. She lives in a cute little apartment with a lake in the back and ducks that come up to the balcony begging for bread crusts. We spent Saturday afternoon together, getting her moved in and to some extent, settled in. And it was a little strange for me because somewhere along the way, my best friend became all grown up. I hadn't seen Suzanne in 'her own' environment since she moved out of home at 18 or 19. I'd never been in one of her apartments. Never experienced her sense of style. Never watched her function in her own space. Never watched her interact with other people as an adult. In many ways, she was stuck in my time warp. I still see her as the 19 year old college girl telling me how she ruined a pan of Rice Krispie treats.

After so many years living away from each other, we're very different people, but at the same time, we've never changed. We still love goofy movies. We're still chocolate fiends. We've mourned separations and deaths together. We've rejoiced together over births and rebirths. Suzanne was my 'sheepdog', relentlessly, lovingly driving me toward Jesus when I was lost, and now we're sisters in Christ.

Over the course of a lifetime, there are so many people that pass through our lives. Some pass through without leaving a ripple. Some leave turmoil in their wake. Some are only passing by, while others stay for the long haul. Some have no affect on our lives. Others change everything.

Suzanne changed everything and I count myself blessed to have known her.