We Bought a Farm: The story of my morning

Here's the lesson of the day on the farm: 

"Training them to eat out of your hand 

may turn out to be very grand."

Last week, I wrote of how we lost one of our prized rams to a toxic plant (seeds of the mimosa tree). His paddock-mate, Captain, however, has been doing well and did not appear to ingest enough of the plant himself to find himself suffering the same fate.

Unfortunately, we haven't been able to get another ram in with him with yet to keep him company ...

(We have a male lamb we were unable to castrate due to his testicles not dropping who would make a perfect companion -- aren't you glad you asked?)

... and so today, he decided to go find some company of his own.

Ever since Admiral died last week, I've been really working with Captain. Captain has never been as friendly with people as Admiral was. We always relied on Admiral to follow us from paddock to paddock on the farm -- which brought Captain right behind him. But without Admiral, we knew we were going to need Captain to start following us himself.

For months now I've been going into the paddock with the rams and calling them to me. If they came, the reward was some much-loved alfalfa right out of our hands. Admiral always came easily. Captain was always hesitant. But with Admiral gone, I stepped up my game. I started visiting Captain regularly. In the beginning, Captain wasn't so sure, but over the course of the last few days, he's even been letting me pet his head as he chomped on alfalfa.

Okay, so fast forward to today. My cousin Eddie and his oldest son, Gabe, came over to do a little farm work this morning. Gabe came running into the house to tell me that they had found Admiral all the way across the farm trying to get in with the ladies.

Egads.

Not good at all.

Timen was taking the morning off, but I asked Abigail to please go and wake him up. JB was at work and Grampa was running errands. I knew I would need Tijmen to solve this.

Here's the thing: a big ram like Captain is well over 200 pounds of nearly pure muscle. These guys are strong. In addition, they can charge you if they want to -- adding to the drama of the situation. With more than 30 ladies baaaaa-ing for his intention, he obviously has no interest in leaving them to come with us.

Here's the other thing: our farm is very, very hilly. Like really hilly. Just remember that when I tell this story. Especially remember that this spot you see Scrubs in on the picture below? That's where we were having to try to wrangle this ram.

(Oh, and see that pond there in the photo? We call it Superman pond. I may have actually fallen in it up to my knees today. But that's another story I don't need to go into details on.)

By the time Tijmen woke up and joined Eddie, Gabe, and myself, we had already gone up and down a hill mountain two times trying to see if we could try to lead Captain away from the ladies. But it wasn't getting us anywhere. He wasn't going to let us push him away from the gals. Our only hope would be to catch him.

Tijmen and I dialogued about this. Eddie and Gabe are new to the farming life and don't really know the behavior of rams yet, but Tijmen has been here enough to have enough knowledge to make a decision. I've learned that when facing one of these farming "conundrums", having two heads to really think about what is going on is incredibly helpful.

Tijmen: "We aren't going to be able to catch him. I think our best bet is to let him in with the girls. Then maybe he'll be distracted and we stand a chance to jump on him."
Me: "Did I tell you he has been eating alfalfa out of my hand?"
Tijmen: "Noooooo. That's a different story."
Me: "Yeah. Watch."

I preceded to trudge back up the hill mountain to where Captain was trying to figure out how to break through the line and get in with the girls. I walked right up to him with a handful of alfalfa and voilà I had him, literally, eating out of my hand. 

Now what? 

Tijmen knew he couldn't also get very close to Captain without spooking him. I was the only one he was going to do this with. So Tijmen got low to the ground and sort of snuck up the hill and got as close as he could before knowing he couldn't go any farther. All the while, I kept feeding the big ol' ram alfalfa. 

Me: "Now what. I'm running out of alfalfa." 
Tijmen: "You gotta grab one of his legs."
Me: "Really? You think I can do that?"
Tijmen: "Yeah. You can do it. Grab his leg. Once you have it, I'll run and grab his body."
Me: "Okay."

I plotted my next move carefully. I knew enough from being around sheep for the last three years that once they got spooked, you really lost your leverage over them. Once they got that "flight" instinct, your chances of success started dropping exponentially. I knew I probably only had one chance. And maybe two. If I was lucky.

I also knew that rams can be dangerous, and I really didn't want to take a head to the face or experience any other sort of uncomfortable pain if I could help it. I fed him and fed him and fed him. He kept his front left leg just out of my reach and then, I lunged for it.

I missed.

Tijmen: "That was a lousy attempt."
Me: "Well, thanks."

I love how honest Tijmen is. Truly. It's one of my favorite things about him. Even when he honestly tells me I suck at grabbing ram's legs. I mean, who woulda thought that was something you could be lousy at.

I lured Captain again and began the process a second time. I was pretty confident that this was it. I wouldn't get another chance. I had to fully commit. I had to grab the leg and NOT miss. I waited. I prayed. I tried to catch my breath. I went for it. I dove knowing I could NOT miss. 

And I got it!

One second after I had the leg, Tijmen came flying in. Once we got the ram on his backside, I knew we had won the first half of the battle. We got him on his side, both lying there while Gabe and Eddie ran up to give us some congratulations.

And now the new problem.

Wendi: "Okay. Good. We got the ram. But now, how in the world do we carry him down a hill mountain?"
Eddie: "What about the four-wheeler?"
Tijmen: "To steep a drive. We can only do it with a truck."
Wendi: "John's at work with his truck."
Tijmen: "We could have Grampa drive up here with his truck."

So thankful I had tucked my cell phone in my pocket, I whipped it out and called Grampa. He was in town getting his oil changed. It would be at least an hour before he got back. No way we could lay on this ram for an hour.

We finally surmised our only option was for Eddie to take over my laying-on-the-ram-position and for me to go back down to the farmhouse and find some big thick rope.

Lovely. Back down the hill mountain. Find rope. Back up the hill mountain.

(Did I mention our piano teacher had shown up at the house and was doing piano lessons? I had no idea what my kids were doing at this point. Truly.)

When I handed Tijmen the rope I had found, he wasn't impressed, and in typical Tijmen fashion, he didn't hesitate to tell me so. "This won't work," he said.

I almost started to cry.

He decided to give it a go.

Tijmen: "I've been designing a harness in my head ever since you left to find rope," he laughed.

Tijmen did an amazing job fashioning a harness. Would it stand the test of a big ol' ram back down the hill mountain? Only time would tell. We stood Captain back up and began the long walk to the kennel by our house that we call the "Thunder Dome." (Apparently that is a Mad Max reference that I don't get but everyone else things is fantastic.)

We did it. It was a long and exhausting walk that Captain was not excited to make. But the harness held up and Captain is now residing in the Thunder Dome until we can decide how he got out of his previous paddock and what to do to make sure he doesn't do it again.

So that was my morning.

I had 'em eating out of my hands, folks!

Tribe Life Tuesday: If This Tree Could Talk

A weekly post from my childhood to grown-up friend Carrie ~ 

sharing her awesome life and her desire to have community while doing it!

Happy Tribe Life Tuesday! 

As I write this piece, I find myself in a sacred space, my computer resting upon the most amazing family heirloom: A Table. This is not just any table but my Granny’s table. She saved up her money so she could pay cash because back then that was the only option. In a day where thin plastic squares and instant rewards are a social norm, her saving would seem like an eternity. You see, this is no ordinary table: it’s priceless. This table had to seat her family of 7, not to mention cousins, neighbors, and anyone else they gladly welcomed in to share a meal. It was here—around this tear-stained, laughter-filled, handcrafted pile of wood—that life took place. 

I’m sure no one could have predicted who would be sitting around this table several decades later. But that’s the beauty of this sacred place, it’s ever inviting and very unpredictable. 

For a year, the Amish carefully worked that admirable walnut tree into a 14 person table where life could continue. There’s something humbling about sitting around this piece of history. Each ring, each gouge, each discoloration, tells a story worth hearing one hundred times over. There is glory at the table. It's a sweet, subtle companion that will never force its way in. The table is always present and waiting for you to pull up a chair and rest. It courageously soaks up words without judgment. The table is not biased, but is steady and glorious. 

Around each table there are stories waiting to be told. Stories that move us in ways we didn’t know we could be moved. Tables are for sharing burdens, for belly laughs, for tears, for resolution, for connection, for peace. This table I sit at now is a surrendered place, a safe place. But it’s not just Granny’s table, I long for each table I sit around to become as this one is: a place of connection, a place of peace, a place of resolve. 

This table was more than just a stately tower of bark, it’s a place for life to happen. 

Will you join me around the table?

Carrie

Anni's Acre Soap

I have spoken previously on my Blog about our good friend Anni. She came to a farm conference last year, we fell in love with her, she liked our farm a bit, and the rest is history. She is a teacher at the TN School for the Deaf in Knoxville and has her own little slice of heaven right in the suburbs -- a place she cheerfully calls "Anni's Acre." 

Anni has a goat that gives an incredible amount of milk. In addition she has our farm which gives her the lard she needs from our pork ... to make awesome soap. Seriously guys. I have NEVER and I mean NEVER used a soap I liked more than this one. And I plan to use this FORever.

Here's a picture of the adorable little goat who makes this all possible!

 

And here's a picture of two adorable little girls lying on their "Aunt Anni." (Hannah recently told people: Anni is our family friend that is basically adopted into our family.)

 

 

This is the adorable sample box you can order for $10 to try out a sampling of soaps!

 

And here is where she stores her soaps! I've seen this in person. It's WAY cool!

So here are the facts:  

Anni’s Acre is a little hobby farm in South Knoxville where the sweetest goats with the best milk live.  Anni makes goat milk soap using olive oil, coconut oil, lard, castor oil, sodium hydroxide, goat milk, essential oil or fragrance oil, and special additives such as colorants, clay, or flower petals.  

$5 a bar

5 bars for $20

12 sample sizes for $10

SOAP FLAVORS:

- berrywine
- chamomile bergamot
- citronella
- clover aloe
- coffee spice
- cranberry pomegranate
- cucumber kiwi
- dogwood & ginger blossom
- eucalyptus
- ginger lime
- honeysuckle
- lemon poppy
- lemongrass
- lilac
- lily of the valley
- melon
- orange blossom
- pineapple cilantro
- pink grapefruit
- rosemary mint
- sweet pea
- tangerine calendula
 Specialty:
- jewelweed w/ oatmeal (poison ivy)
- lavender w/ charcoal (complexion)
- mint w/ walnut shells (exfoliation)

Interested? Please leave Anni a comment on this blog with your email address or email her yourself at: aehollenbeck @ gmail. You can also send me a PM or text message and I'll put you in touch as well. Please tell her Wendi sent you!

We Bought a Farm: #Ican'tbelievethisismylife

My husband posted this on Facebook today. I wanted to share it with all of you as it really touched me! What John didn't mention is the "real" reason we first pulled this Mama and her baby ducks out. We had a bad storm and one of the babies badly injured his/her leg. Sidge brought it in and wanted to try and save it. I wasn't sure the duck could be saved but decided to let him try. The duck perked up within a few hours. However, its leg was badly injured. We therefore, together, made the decision to pull the mama and his two siblings out and let them spend their first few weeks in a safer home until the little one's leg healed. It healed so well, we actually can't tell which one is the injured little duck now.

Here's what JB posted.

The last few years has been filled with images of my amazing wife doing things I never expected seeing her do. Here's another one!

This mama duck went broody and hatched these ducklings. Wendi realized they wouldn't likely survive where they were at the time. She gathered the hen and ducklings, and she moved them to a portable pen which she moved around the yard every day. She did all this without my "guidance".

This coming from a girl who never would have thought of living on a farm if it wasn't for me.

I snapped this picture as Wendi and the boys were moving the hen and now older, stronger ducklings back with the other ducks.

I'm starting to not be that impressed anymore since she's can pretty much do anything she decides she wants to do! ;) 

— with Wendi Huisman Kitsteiner.

Happy 40th Lesley

 

When we moved to Minnesota in 2003 for medical school, we had the supreme honor of becoming friends with one of the most lovely ladies I have ever met -- Lesley Date. Within a short time, she had fallen in love and married a fellow medical student -- David. They become some of our dearest friends during our time at Mayo. They ended up moving into the same condo building as us and man did we have some fun times!

Today she is the mother of a brood of boys and has decided not to practice as a pediatrician in order to be home with her little men. 

I wanted to take a moment to say THANK YOU to Lesley for loving me through some challenging years in my life -- life as a medical student's wife and a woman in the throngs of infertility.  

I have wonderful memories of long games of Mexican Train Dominoes and all of us bringing our leftovers to our condo to clean out our fridge. We watched 24 with Lesley who could not handle the tension whatsoever. 

(Did I mention JB made the cake for their wedding? So fun!)

She is a great listener. She is a fantastic encourager. She is an amazing follower of Christ. Even though miles have separated us and we haven't seen each other in years, she remains one of the most amazing women I have ever met, and I know that anytime we are to be in the same place again, our friendship will pick up exactly where it was. 

I love you Lesley! Thank you for getting me through those four years in the freezin' Polar North! I love you!

 Mexican Trains on our living room floor

 

Our Medical school volleyball team!

 

A hang out meal in our living room.

 

With Lesley and Rachel

Look at our Abigail!

This chick LOVES ballet. This chick LOVES gymnastics. This chick works SOOOO hard on things. She doesn't quit until she reaches her goal. Earlier this year, we started gymnastics. It's a homeschool class that meets on Tuesday afternoon. The boys do it with her although they aren't big fans at all. We are "making" them do it because they need it. Abigail, however, is flipping and tumbling non-stop. And she's been wanting to get her back handspring for weeks now.

Right before I took this video, Abigail did it with a spot from her teacher. Her teacher actually said: "I think you are eating too many of your mama's eggs. I think you are a chicken!" Abigail didn't want to try it without her teacher spotting her even though her teacher wasn't really doing anything at all.

Following that, Abigail debated and debated and finally decided to give it a whirl. This video is the result. So proud of her! SO fun to watch this little girl blossom and grow and come out of her shell. She's such a sweet and spunky sprite of a girl!

We Bought a Farm: So Long Admiral

Our very favorite ram, Admiral, died.

I went out to check on Admiral and his buddy Captain and discovered him in the paddock. A death to a healthy animal is usually the result of some sort of toxic encounter. Unfortunately, we realized too late, that there was a mimosa tree in their paddock. We didn't know that it had pods. We also didn't know that if rams ingest too many of these pods, they can die. While we can't be absolutely sure this is what killed Admiral, we are pretty sure.

It is really stinky to lose such a prized ram. Not only was he a good ram, but he was a nice ram. He also followed a bucket of alfalfa well which is always helpful when moving animals from paddock to paddock.

Tijmen and JB moved him up into the woods. We try to not waste any "meat" on our farm so we give this animal to the meat-eating animals in the woods.

This life can be so hard. So emotional. So sad. So wonderful. So exciting. So disappointing. You cannot control everything that goes on. You have to do your best and move on.

To blend or not to blend?

I've never blended.

Not really.

My entire life I have felt like I stood out. I have always felt like everyone was looking at me. I have always felt head and shoulders above the crowd.

Because, well, because I was.

I have realized that my standing out is two-fold.

One is that I am tall. That part is obvious.

However, having Tijmen here from the Netherlands, I realized that the other part of that is that I am a coloring that isn't exceptionally "normal."

Here's what funny. While standing together in Lowes, a man walked up to the two of us and said: "Wow. There must be Scandinavian blood here." And he's not the first person to say that. Everyone who sees Tijmen and I thinks we look a lot alike. I actually started to believe it.

But then last night Tijmen said to me: "In the Netherlands, no one would think we look alike. Everyone is blonde there. We don't look at blonde as making people look alike."

So in addition to not blending because I am tall, I don't blend because I am a blonde, blue-eyed person. While either of these can occur in America, the combination of the two of those things is incredibly rare. I have in fact only met three other women in America who were blonde and above six-foot tall like I am.

A few moments of my life stand out particularly for me when it comes to blending.

One was traveling around Turkey with my friend Linda. Linda is one of those gals who can blend into so many cultures nearly seamlessly. But as we walked through the mall, I vividly remember her saying: "Wow Wendi. You are right. You do not blend."

In fact, this feeling was not new to me. As early as four-years-old, I remember graduating from preschool and feeling different as the teachers took a photo holding each of the students in their arms ... except for me. They kneeled down next to me. It is one of my earliest memories, and my mother says she remembers feeling uncomfortable for me. I also remember feeling incredibly uncomfortable and sad that they didn't pick me up.

However, the other moment that stands out to me was the moment, as a twenty-three-year-old married woman, I disembarked from a train in Switzerland. The moment those doors open, I felt like putting my hands up in the air and spinning in circles and singing, "I'm home! These are my people!"

All of this had made me think. What would I rather do? John has often commented that he isn't exceptionally "memorable." His name is John and he looks like a pretty "normal American guy." (Whatever that means.) But for me, I've never felt that way. I have always felt different. So would I rather blend? Or rather stand out?

What about you? What's your opinion on this? Love to hear from you!

This picture says a lot

This one picture says so much ....

it says that while our house isn't done, I am sitting on a sofa for the first time since February 1!!

It says that Sidge (and his dad) are home from a trip to Utah for a medical conference. (It doesn't tell you that they missed their flight and got in at 2am because JB got a kidney stone right before they boarded for home or that none us got to bed until 2am but that's ok.)

It says that we are managing to do piano lessons despite the chaos of our home. 

It says that I have two daughters! Two!!! And two sons!! How did I get so blessed?

Review: Girl, Wash Your Face

Okay folks, this is a book you want to read. It's been on the NATIONAL Best Seller list and for a REAL GOOD REASON. 

Each chapter of this book details a "lie" that we believe about ourselves as women. Written by a Christian, Girl, Wash Your Face is not so overtly Christian that I have to recommend it to only people fitting into that category. It simply encourages you to quit listening to the world's lies and live your best life. Whatever faith you might be, you can find solace and a challenge in every single word Rachel writes.

She is not shy in this book. She tells it like it is. And some of the stuff feels like: "OH my gosh. Did she really just write that?" 

But she does. And it's great. I usually am not a fan of self-help books, but this one was simply FANTASTIC. 

I love my friend Shelby's review on Facebook of this book. It's what originally encouraged me to read the book and accept a review opportunity for it. 

Here is what Shelby had to say: 

Do yourself a solid today and go grab "Girl, Wash Your Face" from B+N or Target! Best book I've read this year (you know I've already read a whole stack!) I was one of the lucky few to launch this book into the world today, and I have been reading and rereading it since I joined the team. I am not much of a rereader because there are too many books and just too little time, but I really didn't want this one to end. My thinking and heart for women -- and for myself as a woman -- has been challenged and reshaped and grown. If you're not convinced, check out my whole review on Goodreads.

We Bought a Farm: Snake meat!

(Warning: not a post for the squeamish)

Tijmen killed a snake last week. Normally, we don't kill snakes that are not venomous. However, this one was very near our turkey house and so we thought it would be a good idea to get rid of him. Tijmen decided to skin the snake. We kept the snake meat and he'll keep the snake skin. (I have no idea what we'll do with the meat, but it's in our freezer anyways.)

It's funny, my kids aren't even fazed by this stuff. Not even slightly. The farm and the circle of life has become very normal to them. 

Tuesday Truth

On Belay: New Lenses

I am incredibly excited to add a new Blogger to my rotation. I met Shelby Mathis while our husbands were stationed together in the Azores, and she has also come and worked on our farm! She will be posting on Mondays!

I got an updated eyeglasses prescription recently, and I finally got new glasses yesterday. I tried the frames on in a Warby Parker store last month, and then did a "Try On At Home" by mail because I wanted to be sure they were "the ones". I live in glasses, so frames become part of my face. People get used to seeing them on me, and when I don't have them on, they know something's different and maybe they can't even put a finger on what's different, but they know it's something.

I unboxed my new frames and put them on. I was instantly dizzy. I suffer from pretty persistent vertigo anyway, but this was truly disorienting. My left eye felt a little wandery. I could see the backs of the frames themselves since these are smaller than my old ones, and having that in my vision was uncomfortable. I peeked at the prescription wondering if they'd gotten it wrong. They hadn't. I've worn glasses since 6th grade, but I forget every single time there's an adjustment period. Like with anything new.

To adopt a new perspective is difficult. We like comfort and security and predictability. We don't like to be challenged if we can't be sure, in the end, it will be for our benefit. It's uncomfortable to put on new lenses.

My journey of putting on new lenses has been hard as well as transformative. It's hard to keep the new lenses on when they start to make you dizzy and you know you won't get to walk about your day with the ease you did before.

Travel has given me new perspectives and points of view. Much of my angle for life and writing and the way my family lives is due to having put those lenses on. I've seen parts of the world I never dreamed I needed to go. I've eaten food that gives me a real distaste for the typical American diet. I've climbed the highest mountain in Portugal, and it's now my baseline for how much I can psychically handle. I've seen walls erected where they weren't supposed to be. I've seen the remnants of walls that fell and never should've been built in the first place. I've learned tiny parts of other languages and am fascinated and humbled each time I'm confronted with my own biases about someone's inability to speak English, and my own inability to have a conversation in any other language. I leave a place different than I arrived. My home or hometown can stay the same, and as long as I'm still traveling, my prescription will keep on changing. These are glasses I don't take off.

Travel gave me new lenses.

My faith and relationship with our Creator has given me eyes to see the world the way He see it: fallen, but full of wonder and hope and people worth saving. I can cross state lines and country borders to places unfamiliar and leave with a script that confirms: I've been there and I've met her people, and they're worth it. They're worth knowing. Especially the ones who are hurting and suffering and forgotten about. And of course the ones not like me. My faith has given me eyes to view suffering as a fire that can refine us rather than melt us down. That there can be purpose in all we do and experience because it is all used for our good. My faith has shown me how little I need to care about the opinions of other people. I report to only One. And sometimes that can cost comfort, relationships, or even life. But my belief is that these glasses are worth it. They were freely given to me, I just have to keep them on.

Faith gave me new lenses.

_______

Going where you've never been -- outside of your comfort zone -- to new places and people, can be uncomfortable and disorienting. When it gets hard, you'll want to retreat back to before. Back to when it didn't hurt so badly. Back to where you had clear vision and a sure framework and certainty. Back where you had an argument for this, a map for that. But in the split first second you focus your eyes through those new lenses -- whether you've decided to keep them on or not -- you know you see more clearly. You know you've witnessed something you can't unsee. You simply have to find enough courage and curiosity to keep them on to get past the swirling newness.

Keep the lenses of new places and faces on long enough and you'll forget you even have them on. Other people will even forget what you look like without them. The way you see things isn't as before, and eventually what was before will appear blurry and outside the frame. Sometimes you'll catch a glimpse of a sliver of the old -- just past the edge of the frame -- out of the corner of your eye. It's dizzying to see both at once when the old is fainting into indistinguishable haze and the new lens is filled with new, unfamiliar, and hard. I think it's best to acknowledge the old and embrace the new to avoid the commotion of staring in the wrong direction.

_________

I shouldn't have assumed the lenses I have on are the wrong prescription. My optometrist and Warby Parker know what they're doing. It's me that needs changing. It's me that could use some help seeing the world more clearly. I am the one that has to adjust to this new perspective and persevere through the discomfort.

Just like I had to when I started traveling the globe to countries I wasn't sure were safe (the topic of "safety" is a whole 'nother post.)

Just like I had to when I decided to risk all I thought and knew to follow Jesus.

Just like I have to when I meet people who think, look, vote, believe, or love differently than I do.

Just like I have to when life changes direction at the drop of a hat, and I'm along for the ride.

So, let's be brave enough to put on new lenses. Let's be courageous enough to go places we've never been, and unpack for long enough for the place to change us. Let's be humble enough to believe we have more in common with strangers than we have different, and get to know them well enough we understand their perspective and can borrow their lenses. Let's be curious enough to leave our safe little comfort zones, and stay out of them for so long our zones are stretched beyond former recognition.

We go knowing there will be adjustment at first. It will likely be dizzying as you try to focus on what you used to see while looking through new lenses. It may even wreck ideas and convictions you've held so dear, and that process will likely be tough.

But it may even fling open doors to love and a world you didn't know existed. You'll see.

On belay,

Shelby

Getting to hear Mr. Tijmen sing!

Mr. Tijmen let me record him playing this song for our mutual friend Veronica as it is one of her favorite songs. He's been playing guitar for us for quite some time, but he finally let us hear his singing voice.

I have spoken with some of you personally about how this young man has touched all of our lives as we have opened our home and our Lord to Him. I know that while he will return to The Netherlands in a few weeks, he will always have a home with us here in the USA.

Truly, Mr. Tijmen has become a part of our family, and we really love him like a member of our family. It's been such a joy to get to have him help on our farm and join us in our lives for the last year and a half. (This is the third visit he has made to our farm since he first came about 18 months ago.)

He will be starting University in the fall so it will probably be quite some time until we see him again! He is absolutely a favorite person to all of our kids. The girls love to swing with him and play music with him and climb all over him. The boys love to play board games!

P.S. Mr. Tijmen has never been to jail even though that's what he is signing about!



Sorry, in the video below, hearing me yell at one of the kids to close the box of cookies :) But here he is playing guitar with Hannah:

Tribe Life Tuesday: Awareness

A weekly post from my childhood to grown-up friend Carrie ~ 

sharing her awesome life and her desire to have community while doing it!

Happy TribeLife Tuesday!  

I am so thrilled that you have joined me here today. As usual, I have so many things whispering in my heart, but there is one that is louder than the rest. I invite you to pull up a chair at my table, grab a cup of tea or coffee, and be a listening ear. There is a tragedy currently happening on one side of our great nation and these waves of fierce hope and fight rise up followed by an intense wave of sorrow. 

For those who don’t know, a fire began on July 23 when a vehicle suffered a mechanical failure in Northern California. Of course, Californians are used to fires like Floridians are used to Hurricanes, and Texans Tornadoes. But no one could have predicted what we are now seeing. In just 7 days, this fire has ravaged over 98,000 acres, destroyed or damaged 1,100 plus homes and buildings, and is continuing to burn. The pictures that flash over social media platforms, on news channels, and online are utterly terrifying. It looks apocalyptic. My husband said it looks like something out of one his video games. Absolutely surreal. 

This is the reality for so many right now: fear, trauma, and pain. And as I sit in my home, 1,800 miles away, watching and praying, yearning to see a miracle happen, I can’t help but find myself mentally there. I don’t think I realized it until now but our family is there, not by blood, but by heart and soul. We’re connected because we’re human. 

Have you ever experienced that? Where you feel sympathy pains for another? 

As part of this amazing tapestry of humanity, we have a responsibility to be aware. May we never be so caught up in our world that someone else’s tragedy or pain becomes less important.  

Here is my hope for you today:  

• That you would connect yourself to a tribe in a vulnerable, authentic way!  
• Pray for everyone this Carr Fire has affected. Pray for rain to come and for strength for the amazing men and women working to keep everyone safe there. 
• Make a conscious effort to be aware of the world around you.  

Talk soon! 

~ Carrie  

To help victims of the Carr Fire click here!  

*To stay up to date on the Carr Fire, follow #carrfire on instagram*

Carrie

PUPPY UPDATES: MELI

Here I am with Meli just before I handed her off to her forever home. Our good friends, the Law family, have taken Meli Rain (Meli means "honey" in Hawaiian and she was born on a rainy night) home. 

Meli actually will belong to their oldest daughter, Hailey. Meli was our firstborn pup so it is fitting that she be the first to go home. The Law family had a devastating house fire just under a year ago, and they lost many of their beloved cats and dogs. When this happened, they promised Hailey that when Arabelle had a litter, she could have the first pick. And she sure did!

I plan to keep one Blog page going for each of our seven pups so that we can see what they are up to and doing. We are excited these are ALL going to families we know so that we can stay in touch with them through photos and maybe even in person. New pictures will go under these words with a date below each picture so that our family can watch these little beauties grow.

I must tell you that doing these puppies has been one of the funnest and finest things we have done on our farm. Not only has it been a financial help to the farm, but it has brought us immeasurable joy. We DO plan to do another litter in the spring and are already compiling a list of people interested. 

This was the post Erin put on Facebook today as Meli went home: 

This sweet girl got to come home today! We have been impatiently waiting for her ❤️ Meet Meli Rain 😊 She is Hailey’s new Australian Shepherd puppy and her name means “honey” in Hawaiian. Middle name because it was raining hard the night she was born. She won’t replace our chubby Kobi we lost in the fire, but she’s SO dearly loved already and slowly filling that empty hole that Kobi left. Especially for our sweet Hailey. Thank you sweet friend Wendi Huisman Kitsteiner for letting Hailey come watch Meli and her siblings grow each week!

June 9, 2018 (6.5 weeks old)

June 15, 2018

June 14, 2018

June 18, 2018

August 1, 2018

Sweet friends

Michelle has been my friend since we were five-years-old and entered kindergarten together at the no-longer-existing-Fort Lauderdale Christian School. We went to the same church, lived just a few miles from each other, and spent much of our childhood as friends. She remains to this day one of my dearest and closest friends.

Even better is that our children have become friends. On Wednesday, I decided to take my kiddos and drive 2.5 hours and let Michelle drive 2.5 hours from her home and meet in the middle for a day together. It was sooooo worth it. I needed a bit of a Michelle-pick-me-up. 

I just love this girl!

We toured a little museum in Hickory, North Carolina.

The seven friends: Annabelle (9), Abigail (7), Edward (11), Isaac (10), Sidge (9) and in the front row: Benjamin (5) and Hannah (4). 

After four years overseas, this was the first time we brought together all seven of our children back in 2014. 

And here they are in 2016. 

The floors are done!!!

Getting there

We are counting down the days until we have our "home" back looking like a home. 

Our renovation has taken almost twice as long as we originally thought it oils due to a series of events. The upstairs is about 90% done. But we've been living without a kitchen forthree  months. However, we are starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Today, the floors went in! 

Stuck!

On the way to church, Hannah got her finger stuck in a small brown "donut" shaped necklace she was wearing. It was really tight. John pulled over and tried to get it off with the tools we had in the van but was unable to. A huge thank you to some of my friends at church whom I texted and had help ready when we got there!

Oh Hannah!