Life of a Barefoot MomLady

The Final Post of Barefoot MomLady

2011-08-29T13:01:00.000-04:00

Did I ever tell you the story about how I got started blogging? No? Well, it's about time I did. Get a cup of your favorite beverage, and maybe some cookies, and I'll tell you.

It all started back in 2004, just a few months after my beloved Eric and I tied the knot. I heard about this new thing called "blogging", and how Wil Wheaton (the kid from Star Trek: The Next Generation) had gotten a book deal from writing what amounted to an online journal. Now, I wasn't ever expecting to get any kind of book deal but I loved to write short stories about my life so I thought I'd start one for the fun of it. But what on earth would I call it?

Well, I was going through an identity crisis at the time...you know, the whole "I'm re-married now, I've got a new last name, and instead of being the breadwinner like I was since 1989, I'm a homeschooling housewife now so who the heck am I" thing. And since the only thing that hadn't changed about me was being a mother to three beautiful daughters, girls that insisted on giving me a superhero nickname (because I was just that cool), I decided to use that and began writing "The Adventures of MomLady".

I really loved that blog.

Alas, just when I'd started to really find a growing number of blogging friends, just as the whole "Mom Bloggers" thing was beginning to explode across the internet, I had to shut it down. It was like having a piece of my heart ripped out.

Eventually, the pull of blogging lured me back in. By that time, I was in the midst of successive pregnancies, enjoying and advocating the beauty of homebirth, and joking with my husband about being barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen all the time, when my two big girls (the eldest had left home for college by then) renamed me Barefoot MomLady. And that's how this blog was born.

Over this past year, though, I've felt led to something different. At first I thought it was time to change my attitude about this hobby and join thousands of other women by monetizing my blog. I bought my domain name and started looking for a professional blog designer. But by the time I found who I wanted to hire, God began telling me that Barefoot MomLady was not the direction He wanted me to go in. So, I prayed and asked Him what He wanted me to do.

And this is the answer He gave me.

Unpaved Roads will be a place of honesty, transparency and (I pray) encouragement. From struggles in the valleys to joy on the mountaintops, I will share my journey as a farmer's wife and homeschooling mom as I walk by faith, not by sight.

It's been a privilege to share my story up to this point here with you. I've been truly blessed by your comments and your friendship. Thank you all so much for that. I'm excited to see what God has in store for us on Unpaved Roads. I hope to see you there.

In obedience, faith and love,
Wendy

It's Not About Me

2011-08-10T07:30:00.003-04:00

I was having my typical Monday morning pity-party. Seems like lately we haven't just been under spiritual attack...it's been an all-out siege against us. Strange dogs roaming onto our property and terrorizing our chickens, children coming down sick, finances looking bleak, sleep becoming an elusive mystery and all of the pressure, the stress, the heat, the worry, getting under our skins and pushing us to bickering, losing sight of the things that really matter and draining the joy out of my heart.

I went outside as I often do when I'm feeling burdened, to walk around the gardens and find a moment of peace in prayer.

Lord, you know the struggles we're having right now...

On my knees, pulling weeds near the okra, I poured out a laundry-list of worries and frustrations.

Help us...guide us...show us...let me know...what should we...

Us. Me. We.

Through all these weeks and months, I've wondered why everything we try to do seems like such a struggle and it's all just so hard every step of the way. Why can't anything just go smoothly for a change?

What am I missing in all this, Lord? What am I not seeing or doing?

And of all the things I've learned in my relatively short time as a Christian, one of the biggest I should always remember is to NEVER ask God a question without being prepared to hear the answer.

"I love you, Wendy. But it's not all about you."

Ouch.

I'll admit it, I didn't get back on my knees, turn to my Bible, or do anything that would've indicated I wanted to continue this conversation with my Maker. No, I pulled a mental Jonah and plopped myself down on the computer. As if I could run away from what He wanted me to know.

On Facebook, I saw a friend that I haven't "spoken" to for several weeks letting everyone know that she was leaving for surgery in a few minutes.

"When was the last time you prayed for her, Wendy?"

I had a new message waiting for me from the only real-life friend I've got out here, wanting to know if we could get together and start the Bible study we've been wanting to do since January but have repeatedly had to postpone due to health issues.

"When was the last time you prayed for her, Wendy?"

I signed out of Facebook and pulled up my favorite news website. Anything to get my mind elsewhere, right? There's rioting in London, and I remember my friend in England who is supposed to be traveling to Dublin soon to see her father for the first time in six years.

"When was the last time you prayed for her, Wendy?"

I am ashamed.

When was the last time I did more than give a brief, cursory prayer on behalf of a friend in need? When was the last time I put my own petty little problems aside long enough to allow the burden of someone else's worries drive me to my knees?

The word of God really is a double-edged sword. I felt it, piercing my heart over and over as scripture after scripture rang in my ears.

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it...
...do not cease to pray for you...
...do not cease to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers...
...always in every prayer of mine making request for you all with joy...
...praying always for you...
...praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints...
Continue earnestly in prayer, being vigilant in it with thanksgiving...

Forgive me, Lord. It's not all about me.

photo credit

Learning to Plan, Planning to Learn

2011-07-28T16:56:00.001-04:00

Some of you may be shocked at this, but going into our eighth year of homeschooling, this is the first time I'm going to make a lesson plan.

*GASP!*

Pick yourselves up off the floor. I'll explain.

I've never been particularly pushy with my girls when it comes to their education. I want them to want to learn, not because I say they have to but because they have the desire to do so. I don't want to re-create public school here at home, turning out cookie-cutter minds that retain things only long enough to pass a test without any real understanding of what they've been taught or why. I love watching the girls dig for information they want to know more about, like what makes blood types different, or who invented paper. Don't think for a minute, though, that we don't use textbooks or have tests. I've got a book (or several) for every subject we study; I've just never felt it necessary to be bound by the publisher's syllabus. My approach isn't exactly "un-schooling" or student-led education...I tend to think of it in terms of "relaxed" homeschooling. If we don't finish chapter 14 on such-and-such day, I'm not stressing about it. We don't move on until the concept is mastered, not just memorized.

For the most part, it's worked. After picking up Romeo and Juliet because, "I've heard about it, I wanna know how it really goes..." my "reluctant reader" is now a budding Shakespeare enthusiast and currently enjoying Hamlet.

The truth, though, is that I'm not the most disciplined mother in the world when it comes to making sure my "students" are following through on their lessons. I could makes excuses for myself...I went from pregnant to nursing to pregnant again to nursing again to pregnant yet again to nursing yet again with barely a break between, had my world turned inside out by moving to the country and finding myself suddenly turned into a farmer's wife without a clue of what to do (talk about on-the-job training!) and oh yeah, there's been that whole depression thing added to the mix.

But it's high time I got a little tougher with myself and excuses don't cut the mustard. I've got two high-schoolers and a kindergartner on my hands, and it's my job to shape, mold and guide their young minds now while they're still in my care. If I want to turn out responsible members of society, I need to model responsibility for them.

Besides, I'm going to need a game-plan for this little guy. 'Cause if he ever figures out that his smile can melt me into calling off school for the day? I'll be sunk.

Holding Me

2011-07-27T08:00:00.001-04:00

I came to the end of my rope and cried out, "Lord, what do I do now?"

And He answered.....

"Let go. I am already holding you."

photo credit

Are you worn out from holding yourself up?

Or are you resting in the Hands that are already holding you?

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me..." Psalm 18:16

Trying New Things - Grinding Our Own Meat

2011-07-19T13:58:00.001-04:00

Last week, I shared how I overcame my fear and canned tomatoes for the first time. This week isn't about overcoming a fear, but finally getting off my duff and doing something I've been meaning to for some time now.

Ever since Marye told the world about an additive in hamburger meat known industrially as "pink slime", I've been determined to grind our own beef. But this is coming from the same woman that's been determined to finish getting rid of the boxes sitting on my upstairs landing since we moved here.

Procrastinator? Me? Nooo...

It just takes me forever and a day to get around to doing things.

Ahem.

Now, you may be wondering what the big deal is about grinding your own meat. Well, aside from the health and safety aspect outlined so eloquently by Marye in the link above, there's another benefit that simply can't be argued with...

It's cost-effective.

I would love to have grass-fed beef, and we still plan on adding a cow to our farm someday, but right now it's just not feasible. Even if I could find someone in the near vicinity selling, I simply cannot afford it right now. I can afford to buy chuck roast when it's on sale, though, and it's undeniably cheaper than ground chuck. And seriously, why should I pay some grocery-store butcher extra to grind my meat when I've got eager and willing hands right here at home anxious for the chance to do it for me?

Using the meat-grinder attachment to our KitchenAid stand mixer, it took an average of two minutes for every five pounds of chuck, give or take. For healthier eating, peace of mind and saving money, who can't afford a few minutes for that?

In Honor of Bees

2011-07-15T08:00:00.004-04:00

"One can no more approach people without love than one can approach

bees without care. Such is the quality of bees..."

~ Leo Tolstoy

The careful insect 'midst his works I view,

Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,

With golden treasures load his little thighs,

And steer his distant journey through the skies.

~ John Gay

"Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should,

for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers."

~ Ray Bradbury

Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise

Their Master's flower, but leave it having done,

As fair as ever and as fit to use;

So both the flower doth stay and honey run.

~ George Herbert

"The keeping of bees is like the direction of sunbeams."

~ Henry David Thoreau

“The bee is more honored than other animals, not because she labors,

but because she labors for others.”

~ Saint John Chrysostom

"If the bee disappeared off the face of the earth,

man would only have four years left to live."

~ Albert Einstein

Trying New Things - Canning Tomatoes

2011-07-12T12:36:00.000-04:00

Seems like I do a lot of confessing on this blog, so if you'll forgive me (you will, won't you?) I'll share another one with you. If you are what you eat, then it's no wonder I eat a lot of chicken, because that's what I am when it comes to doing new things. One big ol' scaredy chicken. I guess when your childhood accomplishments are received with statements like "Well of course you got straight As...of course you won the talent show...." you tend to start thinking that failure is not only not an option, it's completely unacceptable.

My parents meant well. They really did.

So when it came time to start canning last year, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. After reading "Putting Food By", a book which warns about the risks of botulism due to improper canning on almost every. single. page. I was convinced that I'd surely do something wrong like, oh I don't know, maybe leave a speck of dirt inside the canning jar and kill my entire family with food poisoning! It didn't matter how many times friends or family would say, "It's not that hard, you can do it!" I was completely convinced I'd make some tiny mistake that would prove fatal.

Yes, I have dramatic tendencies. And a huge fear of failure.

So the only canning that happened last year was whatever my husband undertook. And between you and me, I got a tad bit jealous. And embarrassed at myself. Sitting in the living room with my little ones, I could hear him out in the kitchen, laughing and having a good time with the big girls. And guess what? Of all the jars of jams, preserves and apple butter he canned, not one gave us food poisoning.

This year, our tomato crop is coming in beautifully, and I've decided that I'd be dog-gone if I didn't get at least a few quarts put up. Bless his heart, my husband didn't bat an eye when I asked him if he'd walk me through my first time canning, he just smiled and said, "Sure thing, honey, any time you're ready." I think he must have known I'd ask eventually.

(Have I mentioned lately how much I love my husband? And what a lucky woman I am to have someone so patient and understanding with my drama-queen, emotionally-challenged self? Because I so am lucky to have him.)

And, as you're about to see, it's really not that hard after all.

First, we get the jars and lids ready. (Sorry, I didn't include a shot of the lids simmering. I ordered a neat little gadget to hold the lids in the simmering water, but it didn't arrive until the day after we canned. Now that I've overcome my fears, I'll be using it and sharing my thoughts on how well it works soon.)

You need to have a big bowl of ice water nearby because you want to blanch the tomatoes before processing them.

I don't know who discovered "blanching", but they were a genius, I tell you. Put your vegetables in boiling water for 30-45 seconds, pull them out and put them in ice water to stop the cooking process. What do you get? Vegetables that retain their freshness and have an amazing color. Seriously, aren't those some of the most beautiful red tomatoes you've ever seen? (And they weren't even Photoshopped, honestly!)

Give the tomatoes a chance to chill, then core and peel.

Oh, did I mention that another benefit of blanching is how easy the skin comes off?

Lots of them just slid right off.

Tomatoes are a "high-acid vegetable", which means you don't have to use a pressure canner, but you do want to add an acid to your jar to raise the pH level. Two tablespoons of lemon juice for a quart jar does the trick nicely. (It's a good idea to put the lemon juice in the jar before the tomatoes, just so you don't accidentally forget it.)

Fill the jars with tomatoes and a little hot water, use a rubber spatula to make sure there aren't any air bubbles, put on the lids, twist the rings finger-tight, put them in your big pot of boiling water and put the lid on. Once the water returns to a rolling boil, let them sit in there for 45 minutes (40 minutes for pints). Pull them out, set them on the counter with a towel over the top of them until they cool. If you hear a "ping" sound, it's the lids sealing into place properly. If you don't, you can keep that jar in the fridge for about a week and use them right away.*

Basically, that was it! We had one jar that didn't seal properly, so we used it the next night for pizza sauce and oh my goodness, it was delicious! (And no one got sick to their stomach, either!)

I'm so elated from this experience that I'd like to make a little proposal to you. I'm going to try something new (to me) every week and share my results, good or bad, here every Tuesday, and I'm inviting you to join me. If there are things you've always wanted to try but haven't, may I be so bold as to suggest that this is a great time to do it? Whatever has been holding you back, whether fear, lack of time or whatever, don't put it off any longer. It can be as big or small a project as you want to make it...it doesn't even have to be finished in one week. It just needs to be something you've always wanted to try but just hadn't worked up the gumption to do before. Ever wanted to learn how to knit? Make a quilt? How about something even simpler, like planting some herb seeds in containers and growing them in your kitchen? Or maybe something purely creative, like painting with watercolors? It doesn't matter what it is, it doesn't even matter whether or not we "succeed". The real success will be simply in trying. I hope you'll join me.

*Please note that these are not fully detailed instructions on the proper method of canning tomatoes. For an accurate step-by-step procedure, I highly recommend Ball Blue Book Guide to Preserving.

Work In Progress

2011-07-08T18:29:00.001-04:00

If you follow this blog on Facebook, you might have seen me mention recently that I was going to be working on some videos to share here with you. Well, I did do some work on them, but I obviously have a lot to learn about the process.

I know, you're probably thinking, "C'mon, Wendy, it's not that hard! Millions of people put videos on YouTube all the time. Do you really expect us to believe that you couldn't accomplish even that simple goal?"

And to that, I offer you the following as proof of my attempts.

This first video is me trying to show you the home notebook I put together.

Less than six minutes of footage, and we killed the batteries in the camera.

This next video has me behind the camera, letting my husband attempt to give an honest demonstration of the differences between home-grown, organic tomatoes and the store-bought, hothouse variety.

Again, the batteries died. Just when he was starting to get comfortable with it, too.

Lessons learned? First off, it would've helped if we'd had a little better idea of exactly what we wanted to say before we hit the record button. Second, don't attempt to share more than one idea per video. (Cookbooks and home notebooks are two separate things, even if I did put them both together myself.) Third, and most important: MAKE SURE THE BATTERIES ARE FRESH!

I will have complete videos soon. Like everything else about my life, it's a work in progress.

A Homemade Soap Tip You Won't Find Anywhere Else

2011-07-06T22:39:00.000-04:00

A quick search on Google will yield you plenty of results on how to make soap at home. Enter "making soap" on YouTube and you'll find plenty of videos there as well. But no matter how many tutorials you read or watch, I'm willing to bet none of them will give you the one crucial tip I'm about to share with you.

TIP: When making homemade soap, NEVER put your pot in the dishwasher without thoroughly rinsing it out first.

You can thank my 16-year old for this one.

*Just so you don't think I'm a hideous mother that delights in sharing my children's foibles with the world, not only did we all laugh about it, my daughter insisted that I blog about it. If nothing else, at least I can be proud of the job I'm doing instilling a good sense of humor in her.

You Know You're a Farmer's Wife When...2nd Edition

2011-06-24T17:12:00.001-04:00

Because I had so much fun with this the first time around, I thought it was high-time I did it again. And so, without further ado, I give you the 2nd edition of...

"You know you're a farmer's wife when..."

You know you're a farmer's wife when...

...you can identify which pig is which without looking at the ear tag.

...your favorite shoes have steel toes.

...you can spot a ripe tomato in the garden from 300 yards away.

...between May and September, every page of your prayer journal mentions rain at least three times.

...you've got three buckets in your kitchen; one for compost, one for chickens, and one for pigs...and you don't have to label them to know the difference.

...your answering machine says, "Sorry we can't come to the phone right now. It's canning season."

...you tell the kids, "If you want to live like pigs, you can stay out in the barn with 'em," and they know you mean it.

...your dinner conversation is a heated debate over which is better, pole beans or bush beans.

...a family "picnic" means everyone takes their own bucket to the berry patch.

...your preferred method of stress-reduction is killing squash bugs by hand.

...laundry is on the line, pigs have been slopped, eggs gathered and gardens weeded. Now it's time for breakfast.

The family that works together...

2011-06-22T14:08:00.000-04:00

Confession time: I haven't always been good about letting the kids help out. I've struggled for a long time with nurturing my children's desire to be involved when they're little. I always felt in too much of a rush to get all my work done instead of taking the extra time needed to teach them. The fact that I start channeling Monica Geller-Bing the minute I get going on a project doesn't help. Yeah, I have control issues.

Can I say that I've been working on it? And getting a little better about it? Yes, I think I can. As my family has grown over the years, I've come to learn the value of building a sense of teamwork in my children, and that working together really can be fun!

So last week, when one of the herb beds needed to be re-mulched, we all got in on the act.

Yes, Ben, just scoop 'em right in with your hands.

That's it, Mary...all the way to the top.

Just take it straight to the place I showed you...

...and dump them right in.

Way to go, Ben!

My little man was determined to show what a strong boy he's becoming.

But Sarah wasn't about to let her big brother show her up.

She was dead-set on proving that she could handle the job, too.

The old saying is true, "Many hands make light the work."

With everyone working together, the job was done so quickly, even
Daddy could afford to take a break.

And that's the best part of working together as a family.

Just One More Day

2011-06-21T10:32:00.000-04:00

I don't want to make anyone feel sorry for me, I just want to share a little of my heart here. I'm not gonna lie...Father's Day was pretty hard for me. I didn't want to diminish it for my husband, because he deserves to be celebrated, but I was thankful that he understood when my mind drifted elsewhere.

I cried, reminisced, and cried some more.

I remembered the day Dad took off my training wheels and held on to my bike as I rolled down the street...until I looked back over my shoulder and saw that he was nowhere near me.

I remembered how huge my father was to my four-year-old eyes. He seemed like a towering mountain, and when he lifted me into the air, it was like flying.

I remembered the way he rocked me and sang the same song every night. "Honey, come back, I just can't stand it. Seems like a million years ago..."

I cried, and found myself thinking the same thing anyone that's lost a loved one thinks a thousand times over.

I'd give almost anything to have just one more day...

But the truth is, I didn't get that day. I got many of them.

In the months leading up to my father's death, I traveled over 5,000 miles going back and forth between Kansas City and home. I never felt more torn in my life, wanting to be with both parts of my family at the same time. I fretted and worried constantly if I was doing the right thing. Would my children understand and forgive me for leaving them? Would my husband resent how much it was costing us? Would I be a help to my sister, or just be in her way?

Would it really matter, in the long run, whether I was there or not?

Yes. It mattered. Being there to share even a small part of the burden with my sister mattered. Just being there, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand and letting him know he wasn't alone, that mattered. I realize now in a way that I did not, could not before, how precious that time was.

I could've stayed home, pushed through my days as wife, teacher and mom, and kept in touch by phone. I could've insisted that we couldn't afford it, that we need to put our family's future first, and put the money into buying the cow we still don't have. I could've waited until the very end, showed up for his last days, attended the funeral, and no one would've thought the less of me.

But then I would've spent the rest of my life wishing for just one more day.

When Beauty Comes To Visit

2011-06-15T15:35:00.000-04:00

When beauty comes to visit...

...she sometimes brings a friend.

Sometimes, she's just stopping by to say hello...

...and wish you a lovely day.

But mostly, she comes to remind you...

...that it's good to stop and smell the flowers once in a while.

Focusing On Our Families

2011-06-10T14:41:00.000-04:00

I've learned over the years that you have to be very careful with what you say online. Even something meant to be helpful or encouraging can easily be taken the wrong way. I was reminded of this yesterday morning after I sent out the following tweets.

Good morning all! Work in the garden before it gets hot, or work on my poor, neglected blog while it's quiet enough to think? Hmmm.....

I really want to write, but I feel massive guilt every time I do. There are only about 100 other very important things I should be doing. :(

I honestly wasn't expecting anything in the way of a reply. That's the seductive thing about Twitter...it makes you think you can muse aloud to yourself. But I ended up getting this in response.

In typical Wendy fashion, I immediately burst into tears. "How about focus on your family first..." The implication being that I don't put my family first? That spending the remaining 30-45 minutes I had before my children woke up (after already reading five chapters in my Bible and listening to and encouraging my husband about his own plans for the day) to write a post that had been churning in my mind since the night before makes me a neglectful mother??

I could say a lot of angry things right now, but I won't. Instead, I will simply ask this:

What does focusing on your family mean?

Am I not focusing on my family when I do any of these things?

Weed 1.5 acres of vegetable garden
Help my husband string 400 yards of fencing for the pigs
Mow an acre of grass
Read books and watch videos on YouTube so I can learn to use a pressure canner or sewing machine
Exercise
Chop and haul wood for winter heating
Help my husband manage our farm's website and social media outlets to reach customers for our poultry and organic produce
Try to build my own online presence in the hopes of generating income to help provide for my family

If I enjoy doing any of these things, does it diminish the priority of them in relationship to meeting my family's needs?

I did go on to write the post yesterday, with my husband's encouragement. I've been wrestling with "finding my voice" and it's not going to happen if I never say anything. As far as the woman on Twitter goes, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, now that I've had time to think it over. She doesn't know me, has never communicated with me before, and certainly couldn't have predicted the impact of her words. I'm sure I've said things online that were taken the wrong way, regardless of how I intended them. Maybe it occurred to her that what she said might have been less than encouraging, because she deleted the tweet almost as soon as she sent it. I really don't know what she thinks or how she feels because I'm not walking in her shoes any more than she's walking in mine.

If I've ever made another mother feel guilty for the choices she's made, I'm truly sorry and offer my humble apologies. I do honestly believe that focusing on one's family involves different priorities for different moms, and not one is less or more than another.

What do you think?

Depression, Faith, and Learning to Work a Camera

2011-06-09T08:38:00.001-04:00

About a month ago, while we still had the money, we decided to buy a new camera. My original camera was six or seven years old, and though it still basically worked, the pictures weren't quite sharp and the shutter needed "help" opening all the way. Now, I'm not very good at spending money on myself...I have a hard time justifying it when there are so many "more important things", but this, I told myself, would not be just something new for me; it would be an investment for my family.

So, I've been learning how to use this new camera and my biggest problem is getting it to focus on what I want a picture of.

See that? You'll notice that the background is in crystal-clear detail. The flower in the foreground? Not so much. I aimed for the flower, and got leaves and bushes instead.

When you suffer from depression, it takes away your ability to focus on the things that are most important to you.

I moved around, played with the zoom, and tried again. With no better result.

Depression blinds you to the truths that are obvious to everyone else. You simply can not believe that you're a good person, wife or mother. Not only is everything you do "wrong", everything about you is wrong. How can anyone love you when you can't love yourself? And how can you love yourself when you know how ugly you really are?

So I gave it one last attempt. Instead of standing back and trying to focus from a distance, I got right up to it until it became as clear as a bell.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." In the midst of depression, all I see are my own imperfections. But when I manage to stop focusing on myself and turn my eyes to God, it's so obviously clear how much He truly loves me. I don't have to be perfect for Him. Jesus already carried the burden of perfection for me, because He loves me. And if He can love me in all my imperfection, why wouldn't I embrace the freedom to love myself? Because looking through His eyes, I am beautiful.

Following in Daddy's Footsteps

2011-06-02T17:13:00.001-04:00

All I've ever wanted for my children is for them to be happy and confident with who they are, to reach their full potential, and follow their own dreams.

Daddy and Ben leading our American Guinea Hogs back to the barn.

But it sure warms my heart to see our son taking an early interest in the family business.

In Keeping With The Bees

2011-06-01T16:58:00.000-04:00

Last winter, as my husband was laying out his plans for the farm this year, he said a few words I had a hard time believing at first.

"We're going to start keeping bees."

Now understand that when we first started this whole farming venture after my husband lost his job, I felt pretty confident that we could do just about anything we set our minds to. Chickens? Pigs? Even a cow or a few goats someday? If we can squeeze it on to our little three acres, I'm all for it. But seriously, bees? What would you have said to that?

Naturally, I said, "Sure, honey."

No pun intended.

As long as you're not allergic to bee stings, just about anyone can do it, and in fact, many people are, including city folks. When I was in Kansas City last March, one of the few bright spots was talking to one of the hospice nurses and finding out that she had just finished a class on urban beekeeping and was getting ready for her first colony, too. In places like Denver, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Salt Lake City, Cleveland, and Portland (ME), more people are setting up "backyard hives". Even New York City, London and Tokyo are reporting an increased interest in beekeeping.

Why all the sudden interest? Well, several reasons, really. As The New York Times reported last December, there is a "growing desire for homegrown and organic food," and an "urge to stem the worrisome decline in the nation's bee population." And as my husband and I have become more aware of the evils of GMOs, our decision to become as self-sufficient as possible has increased ten-fold. When looked at in that light, keeping bees doesn't just make good sense, it becomes vital.

We've had our bees for about a month now and I can honestly tell you that of all the things we do here, beekeeping is (so far) the easiest of them all. We've only got 10,000 right now (which sounds like a lot, but really isn't), so it's going to be awhile before we can really get a usable amount of honey or beeswax from them. (And if you don't already know, beeswax is terrific stuff for making candles...one of our personal reasons for wanting bees.) But they seem to be doing really well in their new home, and I'm happy with that. A little sugar water, plenty of pollen to gather, and a little respect is all it takes.

Make that a lot of respect.

"Unique among all God's creatures, only the honeybee improves the environment and preys not on any other species." ~ Royden Brown

Fresh From The Garden

2011-05-25T07:45:00.001-04:00

I'm so excited that our garden is starting to produce! After months of hard work (and some unavoidable setbacks along the way), I'm thankful we're beginning to enjoy the fruits of our labors.

And so are the kids.

Over the next several weeks, I'll be writing more about the different varieties of vegetables and herbs we're growing here on the farm, and hopefully answering a few questions like "What are GMOs and why are they bad?", "What's the difference between heirloom vegetables and everything else?", and "What can I do with herbs besides add them to my cooking?" (Lemon balm tea, anyone?)

Got questions or suggestions for anything specific you'd like to know more about? You can leave a comment here, drop me a line at barefootmomlady at gmail dot com, or contact me thru my Facebook page. I'd love to hear from you!

Coffee With A Friend

2011-05-18T21:34:00.000-04:00

So I was checking out Twitter one day when I saw an interesting remark from one of my dearest online friends, Marye Audet-White. (This is not an uncommon occurrence...my friends frequently have cool/funny/interesting/useful/awesome stuff to say. That's just the kind of crowd I hang with.) And since I was enjoying a particularly good mood at the moment, I replied with something I thought might be witty, just to give her a smile. (That's just the kind of Twitter friend I am.) A few back-and-forths later and we were well into a conversation (I love love love when that happens, don't you?) when she said something along the lines of wishing that she could take me out for coffee and just talk.

So guess who's flying to Texas this weekend?

Call it crazy. (I'm okay with that.) Call it impulsive. (Yep, I'm okay with that, too.) I call it long overdue. I've had the pleasure of knowing Marye Audet-White for nearly four years now and you can only imagine how excited I am to finally get to meet her in person. And in case you don't already know Marye (and you totally should), let me tell you a little about her. She is...

-a homeschool mother of eight (two grown and six still in the house)
-the author of The Everything Cookies and Brownies Cookbook
-an experienced and knowledgeable horsewoman
-an artist (like, with paints and canvas...I just think that's so cool)
-a Senior Writer for LoveToKnow and the editor of the Antiques and Organic Channels on that site
-a writer of over 600 HubPages on everything from sustainable living to how to restore historic wood floors

And, of course, she blogs. Her blogs include:
Restless Chipotle - Not only does Marye share her mouth-watering recipes here, but as the wife of a Type 1 diabetic and a woman with her own health issues, she's dedicated to educating all of us on the dangers of processed and packaged foods and the benefits of healthy, organic eating.
Autumn Tapestry - In her words, this blog is "geared toward women in midlife. Today’s forty and fifty-something women do not want to look like their grandmothers did, nor are they ready to give up their stiletto heels for prescription footwear."
Frozen Music - The first of Marye's blogs that I came to know her from, this is where she shares her experiences of restoring a 100-year-old, two-story farmhouse to its former splendor with authenticity.

Those are just a sampling of the things she does. Who she is is a woman of faith, love and perseverance. She is strong without being cold, vulnerable without being a drama queen, creative without losing taste, and sensible without losing panache. She is dynamic, intelligent, laid-back, down-to-earth, and 100% real. If ever there was a woman I'd have a girl-crush on, it would be her.

Not that I do. Ummm, no.

But I may feel differently Monday morning.

Just when I thought I had being a Mom figured out...

2011-05-13T12:53:00.000-04:00

...now I've got to learn how to be a Mother-in-law.

I'm praying he never thinks of me like this...

What Does Date-Night Look Like At Your Place?

2011-05-09T20:25:00.000-04:00

Lots of married couples have "date night". What does it look like at your place? Do you hire a babysitter for an evening out? Or snuggle on the couch for some "us" time after the kidlets have gone to bed?

Whatever you do, I'll bet it doesn't involve sitting in the bed of a pick-up truck parked on top of a pile of manure. Go to our farm blog, Welcome to Weksny Acres, to see what date night looks like farm-style.

From a Mother of a College Graduate

2011-05-06T08:30:00.000-04:00

As rewarding as it is to be a mother, there are times when this whole Mommy gig is scary enough to make you want to jump in the car and run for the hills. (Or is that just me?) The responsibility of raising another human being without completely screwing them up can feel like a tremendous burden bearing down on your sleep-deprived shoulders. I tip my hat to those mothers that breeze through the process with nary a hair out of place, with spotless homes and well-rounded little angels that never rebel or give a moment's worry.

To the rest of us that don't live in Stepford, I'd like to offer these words of encouragement: I've done it and lived to tell the tale. You can too. Here are a few things to consider...

#1: Nothing Lasts Forever
Oh, those sleepless nights....will this child ever let you rest for more than an hour or two at a time? The answer is yes (hallelujah!) That fussy little angel that either won't sleep in their crib or (for those that co-sleep) elbows and knees you to death from midnight til dawn will someday grow into a teen that you won't be able to drag from their bed before noon. Someday, believe it or not, you'll realize one day that they don't want to snuggle with you anymore. After a week's worth of peaceful nights, you'll also realize that you miss it.

#2: Trust Your Instincts, Don't Ignore Them
Either through my own personal, hands-on experience, or from the shared struggles and triumphs of other mothers, I'm plenty familiar with ADD/ADHD, dyslexia, Down's Syndrome, Autism, cerebral palsy, Asperger's and a host of other special needs. If your otherwise healthy child exhibits symptoms of learning disorders, don't ignore them but don't panic, either. And unless you really, really believe in your doctor, don't take their first diagnosis, either. Research, get second opinions (and third and fourth opinions if it still doesn't sound right to you). We live in the Information Age and there are multitudes of women that have been in your shoes. Find them, learn from them, share your own story with them and be encouraged.

3: Every Child Rebels
You fed them only wholesome organic fruits and vegetables as a baby, and now they don't want to eat anything unless it comes out of a box. You knelt with them beside their bed and taught them to pray every night, but now they don't want to go to church. You said, "I love you," 58 times a day, but now they stomp off to their room crying, "I hate you." Unless your child is Jesus, they will rebel. There will be conflicts, misunderstandings, miscommunications, hurt feelings, and outright disobedience. I hate to tell you this, but if you think potty-training or the terrible twos are hard, you ain't seen nothin' yet. It's going to be a battle, so you'd best be prepared for it with the only two things that matter: discipline and grace. How do you know when to use which?

#4: Pick and Choose Your Battles
There's a big difference between the child that pours shampoo down the toilet after they've been told twenty times not to, and the child that wants to dye their hair with pink stripes while sporting an all-black wardrobe. Both are a form of rebellion, either against your authority or against their perception of "what's expected". The trick is knowing which one calls for discipline and which calls for grace. When discipline is needed, be consistent (don't give in once and expect them not to try getting away with it again later), be fair (don't ground them from the t.v. for two weeks because they forgot to wipe the table after dinner), and be firm (don't cut the punishment short because they're really really sorry...if you put them on time-out for five minutes, it needs to be the whole five minutes.)

But not every rebellion needs discipline. You have to pick and choose your battles. Does sinful behavior need discipline? Yes. Do sinners need grace? Even more. If you ever find yourself saying, "I never gave my parents this much trouble..." try reading Romans 3:23. And then call your parents, if they're still alive, and tell them you're sorry, you love them, and thanks for all they did for you and put up with from you.

#5: You Did Not Create Them, You Can't Change Them
Whether you gave birth to them or adopted them, you did not create your child, God did, and you will never be able to make your child be anything other than what God intended them to be. Yes, as a parent it is your responsibility to raise and guide your children to the best of your ability, but if you nit-pick a child over every little aspect of their behavior, you're not only going to miss out on witnessing the development of a richly unique individual, you're going to run the risk of having your child view you as a drill sergeant instead of a loving parent. Don't try to make a doctor out of an artist, a farmer out of a writer, or a musician out of an engineer. Encourage exploration in different avenues of interest, by all means! Give your child every opportunity you can to find their niche, but don't wear yourself (or your child) out by trying to make their squareness fit into any and every hole you come across. Yes, you might have been the world's greatest living pianist if only your parents had encouraged you, but that doesn't mean your child will be, wants to be, or (most importantly) was made to be.

#6: Get In The Picture!
I'll be totally honest here...I still struggle with this one. I hate having my picture taken and have since I was four years old. (Yes, I have issues. That's just the way it is.) As moms, we love getting those impromptu snapshots of our kids doing something funny, charming, bizarre, etc. But when we're gone, who's going to be looking at those photos? Our kids. And who's going to be missing from them? You. So what if your hair is having it's 437th bad day in a row, you've got stains on your t-shirt, and the only pants you wear these days are of the yoga variety (or, in my world, hole-y jeans)? However you look now, your kids will be thankful to see pictures of you like this again when they're grown up and getting their own middle-aged spread. Remember, no matter what you think of your looks, you're beautiful in the eyes of your children, and you always will be. Everyone loves strolling down memory lane sometimes; don't deprive your children of the chance to do the same.

I'm no expert on parenting, just a woman that's learned a few things along the way, both as a parent and as a child. So, as a mother and a daughter, I'll leave you with one more thing to ponder.

When I was just a babe, I thought, "My mommy is the smartest person in the whole wide world. I want to stay with her forever!"
When I was a young child, I thought, "My mom is pretty smart, but I know more than she thinks I do."
When I was an adolescent, I thought, "My mom isn't that smart, she really doesn't know that much."
When I was a teen, I thought, "That woman is completely clueless. She has NO idea what I'm going through!"
When I entered the world on my own, I thought, "I'm so much smarter than my mother ever was. Thank goodness I don't have to live with her anymore!"
When I had my own children, I thought, "My mother is so out of touch. I hope I don't turn into her someday!"
When I reached middle age, I thought, "Wow, Mom's pretty smart! I wish I'd listened to her more."
When I became an empty-nester, I thought, "My mother is the smartest person I know. I wish I were more like her."
When I reached my last days, I thought, "I miss my mother. I wish she were still here."

My PowerPuff Girls Grew Up

2011-05-04T16:22:00.001-04:00

Last Saturday, I watched with a mixture of joy and melancholy as my eldest graduated college. Joy for the wonderfully mature woman she's become with a bright future ahead of her; melancholy for the days when she and her sisters were The PowerPuff Girls.

You wouldn't think they'd all come from the same parents because everything about them was different. Different hair, different eyes and (especially) different temperaments. And if you'd known my daughters and then watched the cartoon, you'd swear my daughters had to have been the inspiration.

As the oldest, Rachel easily assumed the role of leader, whether her little sisters liked it or not. She was Blossom in every way. My feisty Rebecca was the spitting image of Buttercup...tough as nails but with a heart of gold. And little Emily, with her sweet-as-sugar smile and effervescent spirit, was in all ways Bubbles. As different as any three girls could be, except for the bond of love they shared as sisters.

It's been a long time since I last saw my girls bouncing around the living room, re-creating their fantasy world of "saving the world before bedtime." Rebecca and Emily might still indulge themselves occasionally, but those days have gotten fewer and farther between. Like their older sister, they've moved on to other interests, but it wasn't until Saturday that the reality of time really started to sink in for either of them. They grappled with it all the way home as they kept musing to each other, "Our sister is a college graduate? When did that happen?!?"

I wanted to tell them it happened like everything else in life does...while they were busy doing other things. But that's one of those things they'll find out on their own eventually anyway.

Once upon a time, we were a family...

2011-04-14T08:00:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time, we were a family of six. It began with two people who, logistically speaking, should never have met. Long before there was such a thing as the internet to bring people worlds apart together, a girl from the mountains of Tennessee met a guy from Brooklyn, New York. He was in the Army and she was helping one of her many sisters who had moved to Virginia. Against all probability and reason, these two completely opposite young people met and fell in love. Six weeks later, they married.

I don't know what made an Italian guido and a Southern belle decide to move to Kansas City of all places, but that's where they eventually settled down and got busy. Jobs came and went, children got born, and houses got moved in to and out of, but eventually things started to click into place. A factory job with good pay, a three-bedroom house, and two boys and a girl. They only needed one more daughter to make it all a matched set. They prayed for a girl, and got me.

Forty-two years and one day later, my father drew his last breath and went home to Jesus, Mom, my oldest brother and all the family that had gone on before him.

I've struggled a lot with what to say since April 1st. I thought I knew what being on an emotional roller-coaster was before, but this? This is the grand-daddy of all mood swings. I'm about as disjointed as a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle being handled by a preschooler. Every time I sit here trying to find the words, I get overwhelmed by it all. I can't get it out.

I can't tell you all the things that happened over the course of these past two months...it's all still so painfully raw and every day some part of it springs unbidden in my mind and drives me to tears or rage or both. To the people that insisted on being petty and childish and egocentric, to the ones who put their social engagements over family, to the ones who spent more time crying at my father's funeral than they ever did speaking to him in the past thirty years, I want to grab them by the shoulders, shake them and yell, "How could you be that way?!?!" I won't do it. I can't. I'll never tell them how they've made me feel, because once I got started it would erupt like a volcano, and I know I can't do that. So I hold it in. In some inexplicable, paradoxical way, I'm too weak to let go of it yet. I know I'll get there. With time and God's grace, I'll be strong enough. Already those moments are getting farther apart, but it's still going to take time.

I've been deeply touched by the condolences and prayers that have come my way. Dear friends pitched in when the ones we were counting on didn't, and people that I've never laid eyes on in this life have lifted me up in prayer at a time when I couldn't pray for myself. It's humbling to be on the receiving end of so much love.

I miss Dad...I was missing him before he drew that last breath. But I know he's in a better place, a place he's been ready to go to for years. I have peace knowing he's with Jesus. That helps.

Once upon a time, we were a family of six...

Three family members were unavailable for this picture. Two grandsons are currently serving their country with honor in Kuwait. One granddaughter is finishing her final exams before graduating college. Their grandfather was exceedingly proud of each of them for what they're doing.

God Bless You Daddy

2011-04-02T02:26:00.000-04:00

Be at peace, Daddy. I love you. God bless you.