New York Bound

   For those of you who don't know yet, my parents are trying to adopt a young man from Eastern Europe.  Here's a link to their blog about this adventure.  They just got their appointment date.  They will probably be in Ukraine for awhile.  There is a chance that they might get there and this young man would choose not to go with them.  
   My grandparents are going to come up and stay with my younger brothers for the duration of this trip, and on their way through, they're going to pick me up.  Jane and I will ride up with them and stay in New York for about a month to help get the boys settled into their first week of school.  We're heading out early so that my parents can see Jane before leaving.  Daddy's only seen her once since she was born, and Mom's seen her twice, which I find very sad.
   I will try to continue posting while I'm up there, and let you all in on the little adventures that happen.  I am hoping to see Jenna Woginrich's farm.  My parents became friends with this famous author right after I moved out.  I check in on her blog often and sometimes see pictures of my family there.  If I make it to her homestead, I will definitely post about it.  
   

The sock

     My sock is still coming along.  I knit at least two rows during each of Jane's naps, which ensures some progress each day.  I was knitting every evening while my husband and I watched a movie or the news, but I  found that I knit much too tightly when I'm watching tv.  This was probably part of the problem with my original sock.
   It also looks like the sock is going to be too big.  Because of my needle size and yarn weight are so different from the patterns recommendations, I guessed as to which pattern I should use.  I guessed too big, so I think their going to be slippers, not socks. 
   
   There is a chance for rain today!  But unfortunately, the radar looks like it's all going north and south of us. My tomato could really use a nice shower, not to mention me.  Whenever it rains I go stand outside to look at the rain, and my neighbor come outside to stare at me.  It's not like I'm dancing around in it and splashing it everywhere.  I just stand there and look at it and soak it all in, the smells, the sounds.  I love the rain.  
   So much so that God gives me rain for my birthday, and sometimes just because he loves me.  For example, a while ago I was outside, and there were clouds, and I said I really wished it would rain - and it did.  About 20 drops fell on and around me from this little bitty rain cloud.  God had it pour all of its little heart out right there on someone who would appreciate it.  


    I love the rain, and dandelions, and fireflies.

Dragonfly Summer

     Yesterday, as I crunched through the dry grass to water the tomato, something caught my eye - then another, and another.  There, dozens of dragonflies were darting back and forth underneath the privacy fence that hides a jungle of weeds from our view, (we have enough of a jungle in our own front landscape).
     There were quick small ones, yellow with black stripes, patrolling their area, back and forth over the same patch of grass before darting over to patrol another uncovered patch of brown. 
     There were heavy dark Dragonflies,  pondering their paths, flying an elaborate swooping pattern, flying out to the edges of the group, swooping up and swing back around into the shade.  
     Although they were surprisingly quiet, there was a frenzied air about them.  They looked like they were searching for water that had not been there for years, a farm pond, or slow stream, that had long since been dozed in.  I sat against the fence, and they flew around me, not deigning to notice that I existed.  Nothing could distract them from their search.  
     After watching them for a while, I went inside and searched the internet for someone else who had witnessed such a wonderful thing.  There were plenty, and I found that these fliers were not looking for water, but hunting.  This made sense because I was having flying ants on my tomato and the dragon flies eat other small flying creatures.
     I went back outside and viewed them with a new sense of adventure.  These noble bugs were not looking for water, they were on an expedition.  They were searching for food, hunting down flying insects.  They are aptly named.  I imagined these insects from the view of a gnat.  
    Imagine a group of these huge beasts, farther than you can see, swooping down upon you.  These terrible jewel-like creatures, their giant eyes watching everything.  They can turn with incredible agility, their four wings beating the air in a blur, framing them in a halo of wind.  They can eat you in one bite.  They travel in groups, the small quick ones, tigers of the air, darting back and forth, blocking every way out, the large ones looking for stragglers that manage to escape the winged net, and finishing them with startling accuracy.  
     I stayed for a long time among the dragonflies, watching them.  I tried to take a few pictures but gave up. You can't take a picture of a flock of hunting dragonflies and capture any of the beauty and grace that exists there.  Something are not meant to be photographed, or at least not by me.

Sock Update

Not long after my last post, I undid everything that I posted a picture of.  It was knitted too tightly, due to my habit of sometimes wrapping the yarn around a finger rather than letting slide through.  There was also a strange gap in the stitches that I wasn't sure how to fix.  

However, the sock is coming along splendidly, despite the setback.   

I have finished the ribbing and the heel and am now working on the actual foot part.  This really has been so much easier than I thought it would be, thanks to cometosilver.com.  Her site has clear instructions and pictures to help with every step.  Because we have limited internet access, this is ideal for me.

I am so excited to finish this sock.   I'm not going to try it on until I have it's match done as well.  It's going to be so hard not to.

Socks!

I am knitting my pair of socks!  

I found 3 skeins of blue worsted yarn at a thrift store for a dollar.  It is so soft and I knew I had to at least try to knit a pair of socks out of it.

I have been keeping my eyes open for double pointed needles at thrift stores and yard sales, but have yet to find any, so I walked to Wal-Mart and picked up the only set they had, which was a size 3.  I realize that my needle size and yarn size are not great together, but I have a small ankle and foot, so I hope that the sock will still fit.

I am using this website.

So far the directions are clear and very easy to follow.  

Here is how far I am now:

I think this is how tall I'm going to make the cuff.  It is summer and I want to be able to wear my socks right away without frying my feet.

The best part of this adventure so far has been when I showed my husband my first few rows and he smiled and told me he was proud of me.  Warm and fuzzy moment of the month.

Cornbread for Breakfast

I stumbled onto this cornbread recipe a couple of days ago on a recipe website and fell in love with it.  It is REALLY good.  So good my 10 month old finally started signing her version of 'more' (pointing to her open palm).  The recipe says to put it into a 9 in cake pan, but I baked it in my stone pie plate instead.  I think this is why the middle has been underdone.  I also made muffins, which were good also.
I have made this every morning since discovering it and now have the recipe memorized.  Here it is for you to try:


Preheat oven to 400 degrees.


     Cornbread Recipe
1 cup yellow cornmeal
1 cup flour
2/3 cup sugar
3 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 egg
1 cup milk
1/3 cup oil


Grease 9 in round cake pan.  Set aside.
In mixing bowl combine dry ingredients.
Add egg, milk, and oil.  Stir well.
Pour into greased pan and place in oven.
Bake for 18-25 minutes.
Enjoy.

Diagnosis-Barnheart Treatment-Tomato Plant

     About a month ago, I gave in.  I bought a tomato plant. A 50 cent scrawny foot tall with nine leaves tomato plant.  

   For a year and a half I lived in this one bedroom apartment in the middle of a busy and growing city.  Over that time I have slowly come to miss the country, even to the point of missing 'the garden'.  

    We speak of the garden as if it were a living entity, an animal, lurking in the back yard. 

 'Have you watered The Garden?'

  'The Garden is looking sickly.' 

 'Time to go weed The Garden.'

   In my childhood the presence of The Garden meant time in the sun picking off hornworms and turning stinky chicken poop into less stinky compost.  Garden meant work, and lots of it.  The only reason I ever thought I would own a tomato plant would be out of a sense of duty to supply my family with cheap healthy food.

   However, not long after moving to this concrete jungle, I began to develop what Jenna calls Barnheart.  I believe I am terminally infected, but that's alright, life is terminal anyway.  I also hope I'm contagious.

     It began with missing the trees, the stars, the crickets, and the smell of animals and hay.  It quickly progressed to a longing to be doing something outside, which turned into a desire to be doing something productive outside.  When I transplanted to the city I was stunned by how little there was to do outside that was productive.  There were no eggs to gather, no chicken, horses, cows, or rabbits to take care of, no lawn to mow, no hay to move, no feed to haul, and no ice to break.  I went out of my way to walk in grass on my way to the mailbox.

     I stopped to look at every plant on my way into the grocery store and mourn over the poor ones that were overgrowing their little containers.   I come by this honestly, my mother does the same thing.  She even has a 'hospital bed' in her garden for nursing plants back to health.  Finally Luke told me to get one.  

    I was hesitant, but some of our other neighbors have started putting their plants on the concrete pads in the back that we all share but no one uses, so I decided on a scrawny little thing with no tag.  It looked the healthiest, and didn't look like a cherry tomato.  There was an heirloom tomato tag that looked like it might have fallen from his pot, so I picked it up and stuck it back in the pot, claiming this little container of dirt and vegetation for my own.

    Luke bought me potting soil and a pot and I planted the little sucker deep in the soil, leaving only the 3-4 inches that had leaves exposed.  Tomatoes will sprout roots all along the buried stem and I wanted to give this little one an opportunity to make up for his cramped beginning.

   It's been a month now, and my tomato has blight, but it's been kept under control by keeping the plant healthy and plucking off the affected leaves as soon as I notice them. 

 It also has its first fruit.  

I am so excited.

   I can't wait to make homemade salsa and have fresh tomato on my sandwiches.  

This is just a temporary treatment for Barnheart though.  I'm already thinking of how we could keep meat rabbits or laying hens.

Pleasures and Precious Riches

Through wisdom is an house builded; and by understanding it is established: And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant things.  Proverbs 24:3&4

     I read this yesterday, while skimming through Proverbs, looking for a verse to memorize.  These verses caught my eye and immediately made me think of my parents and the home I grew up in.  

     My father is the wisest man I know, and my mother is the wisest woman.  My parents built and established our house as a home and my mother was constantly teaching us everything she knew about the amazing world God created.  Because of her knowledge, the chambers of our house were filled with love, books, rocks, flowers, fresh baked bread, seeds, laughter, home grown veggies, and music - all the most pleasant and precious riches.

   My parents are wonderful people of God.

Teething babies and sick cats do not make for a pleasant afternoon.

Yesterday it sounded like a murder in progress in this apartment.  I am so glad that the woman underneath us was on vacation.  

Haydn, pronounced Hye-din, named after the composer, was sick yesterday.  Really sick.

It started when I was in the middle of mopping the floor.  He began puking, which, in keeping to tradition, he only does on a carpeted area.  As soon as I got one mess cleaned up he was working on expelling another.  I racked my brain for some reason for him to be sick, but found none.  Because I have a 10 months old, there was nothing that he could have eaten off the floor and no chemicals he could have gotten into.  He didn't seem to be running a fever and his nose was wet.  I tried to force some hairball medication into him, but it came right back up.  As he was gacking up the hairball medication, I stood up and knocked the scissors off the sewing table.  Jane woke up screaming bloody murder.  I picked her up, but with the cat howling feline doomsday verses at my feet, I couldn't calm her down.  I finally sat down and nursed her to calm her down.  

Meanwhile, Haydn was laying on the bed in the living room.  My husband and I slept on a twin mattress when we first got married, and we sometimes pull it out to sleep on just for fun.   The cat pooped on this bed, right in front of me.  I had considered locking him in the bathroom, but he had been in the litter box or throwing up every time I went to confine him.  Now I wished I had interrupted a puke in order to quarantine him.

I put a crying Jane in the high chair with a handful and ran the cat into the litter box.  The I called my mom while I cleaned up the mess.  She suggested taking away his food for 12 hours and locking him in the bathroom, which I did, as soon as he left the litter box.  After locking him up, I cleaned up the remaining puke piles.

This morning both the cat and baby are substantially happier.  Haydn is no worse for the wear after yesterday, and Jane seems to have no long term psychological effects.  

There are a lot of worse things that could have happened in combination.  I'm glad I only had to deal with a puking cat and a teething baby together.

Chickens

Someday I want to have chickens.  I want Americaunas and Barred Rocks for sure, maybe some heirloom Speckled Sussex.

In order to have chickens, we're going to have a yard of our own.  I'm fairly certain the apartment dwellers will not want to share their yard with 6 hens.  Since our first house will probably be in the city limits of town, I looked up the laws that I'll have to abide by.

* Six hens is the maximum number allowed per tract of land regardless of the number of dwelling units.

* No roosters.

* No breeding or fertilizer production for commercial purposes.

* No at-large (free roaming) chickens allowed. Must be kept in an enclosure or fenced area at all times. Chickens shall be secured in a henhouse or chicken tractor during non-daylight hours.

* Enclosures must be kept in a clean, dry, odor-free, neat and sanitary condition at all times so as not to cause odor or noise problems with neighbors. Enforcement is complaint-based.

* Enclosures must be located no closer than three feet from property line and at least 25 feet from another residence or business.

* Enclosures must provide adequate ventilation and adequate sun and shade and must be impermeable to rodents, wild birds and predators, including dogs and cats.

* Enclosures shall only be located to the rear of the dwelling or other main structure and may be located in the rear yard as required by the zoning code.

* The chicken owner shall take necessary action to reduce the attraction of predators and rodents and the potential infestation of insects and parasites.

* Chickens found to be infested with insects and parasites that may result in unhealthy conditions to human habitation may be removed by an animal control officer.

* The chicken owner must provide for the storage and removal of chicken manure. All stored manure shall be covered by a fully enclosed structure with a roof or lid over the entire structure. No more than three cubic feet of manure shall be stored. All other manure not used for composting or fertilizing shall be removed.

* Any violation of the ordinance that constitutes a health hazard or that interferes with the use or enjoyment of neighboring property is a nuisance and may be abated under the general nuisance abatement provisions of the city.

* Each day that a violation continues is a separate offense.

I really want hens but there is not a hen house any where that is impermeable to predators. 

I'm also not sure what to do with the chicken poo.  Our yard won't be big enough for me to move the hens around and let them 'graze', distributing the poo evenly over our lawn.

I think I'll wait till we have a house and yard before I start thinking more seriously about hens.  Or maybe we'll find a house in the country.  

No picture here

     I have no picture to post today because I couldn't capture it with a camera if I tried.
     God gave me a perfect moment yesterday.  
     It started raining so my husband, knowing I love the rain, told me to go outside.  I did, and the world was wonderful.  
     The wet concrete beneath my bare feet was warm and the rain fell steadily all around.  I was the only person outside for the wind to play with, and it cavorted around me, raising goosebumps that made me feel even more alive.
     The sky to my back was a light grey, a dulling silver mass, but in front of me the sky was breathtaking.
Periwinkle clouds stand, like giant Percheron, their silhouettes lined in white and a soft peach.  The blue sky is a subtle, yet bright, background for these patient majesties.  They don't move the entire time I am out there.  They wait for the wind to lead them away.
     The clouds around them gradually faded back above me into the grey mass.  Yet even the rain clouds had a patch that shows the sky, like the knees of well loved jeans show the scraped up legs they hold.
     The air was so full of the smell of rain on concrete that I could taste it.  The spicy sweet smell invigorates.  
Even the cars driving add to the music of the moment.  Nothing, not sounds, or colors, or smells, clashes together.  Everything is made into a soft and beautiful melody and harmony.  Even I am made more beautiful, the wind and rain curling my hair into rings around my face more perfectly than any beautician could replicate.
     I took in as much as I could, and then the moment was over.  The colors fade, and the world looks like an old photograph of itself.  My husband opened the door and I realize how soaked and chilled I am, but have seen the young dandelion leaves and the rain kissing and seen the world ring out for a moment of wonderful music.
     It was worth it.
     God is so good to me.

I want to be more of a producer and less of a consumer.

I want to be more of a Proverbs 31 woman.  She produces constantly.  She spins, weaves, cooks, sews, and sells.  She is always making things for her family or to sell.  She rises early and stays up late to do these things.  She is a hard working woman.  She doesn't buy pre-processed pre-packaged items. Everything is made with love and sweat.  I want to be more like her.  

I want less convenience and more pure labor.  It's better for you.

I will be a producer, not a consumer.

I will make my own bread, tortilla's, and rolls, not buy plastic wrapped preservative filled loaves. 

I will knit my own socks.  I wonder if there's a pattern for hand knitted toe socks...

I will grow my own tomatoes, not settle for watery red fruit.

I will write my own ideas, not just read other people's.  

I will make music, not just listen to it.  

I will produce, not consume.

A friend's post is making me rethink my blog.  I set it up only a week and a half ago.  I know that many people write to inspire other people.

I have no hopes of inspiring anyone other than myself.  If it does inspire others, it will be a miracle (an actual act of God) and have nothing to do with me or my writing.  

Is my blog doing what it is meant to do?  I like to think that so far it is.  We'll see how it's going in a couple of months.

In other news...

My sister-in-law taught me to knit Friday and I am going to knit a pair of socks.  Yes, I realize that this is not what most beginners start with.  I know people who have knit for a long time without ever knitting a sock.  However, if I can knit a sock, I will be able to knit anything.  At least in theory.

So far I have practiced knitting, purling, and casting on.  This evening I will practice kfb(Knit Front and Back), M1 (Make one), and (BO)Binding off.  As well as learning the ecryptic lingo of the yarn.

I have high hopes for this endeavor.  

At he moment I am borrowing needles.  I will be scrounging yard sales and  thrift stores for needles and yarn now.  As soon as I have either a circular needle or some double pointed needles I will begin my socks.

"Cheater Cheater Pants on Fire"

That's a home-schooler's playground taunt/accusation.  My younger brother said it frequently.
I have a confession to make.
I'm a cheater.
I cheat at sewing.
Only my most trusted friends are allowed to see the wrong side of any sewing project.  I will do anything possible to avoid seam ripping.  Anything.  Even cutting out the entire seam and starting fresh.  This normally works because most patterns are big on me to begin with, so I have a lot of room for this kind of fudging.
I also have a few other aces hidden in my sewing box.  For example, here is a dress I have sewn for Jane for the Fourth of July.

Adorable, huh?
Let me share some of the dirty little secrets this dress has.
None of the inside seams are finished.
The seams on one side don't line up.
I had no pattern, and therefore no instructions on how to put this dress together.  The skirt pieces were sewn to the front and back of the bodice separately and then the dress was sewn down the sides.  This was great, until the hems didn't line up.  I redid the hem, so now the stitches slope a little, but the bottom edge lines up.
I could not get the lining in the neck to lay flat.  I clipped the seams and ironed it until I was afraid of melting the fabric.  It still stood up, like a mandarin collar wannabe.
That's why there are little stars around the neckline.  I embroidered them to hold down the lining.  Sneaky, right?
I also made the neck big enough so I would not have to put in a zipper, buttons, Velcro, snaps, etc.  No closure of any kind on this dress.
Over time my sewing projects will get better, but right now my time is better spent reading a book to Jane than sweating over perfect seams on a dress she'll probably wear only once.