31 Days to Green Acres - Day 22

Welcome.  This post is one of many in a 31 Days series.  If you'd like to read the other entries, please click here.

It's a funny  thing with demolition.  Only a few minutes of heavy blows with the hammer or crowbar produces hours of follow up work and restoration.

You can loose your perspective a little bit - both ways.
Either you feel like , "Aw, look at that pile.  It's already so huge we might as well keep going.  What's another couple sheets of drywall anyway?"
Or, you can barely breathe, and not because of the dust, but rather you have shocking and sudden clarity on what you've just destroyed, and have a jolting realization that it's up to you to put it all back together again.
These perspectives share the stage.
Sometimes they share the song and dance number, and sometimes, (only briefly), they have a solo act.

One of the welcome gifts for us in restoring Liberty Farm was that Libby has never looked too awful from the outside.

In fact, she can be downright welcoming and cheery standing tall among the trees on the slight rise to the property.

That's her on the day we first met.  I saw her first.  It wasn't long before I called Weekend Farmer Husband and made arrangements for him to meet me.  We wrote an offer within hours of our first meeting.

A few other factors made and still make the property inviting.
Wide open pastures are the perfect canvas for a frame of trees on the property line, and tall grasses bend a hello.  Tall old trees stoop to greet us.  Ten fenced acres hem us in and define what has seemed like a vast expanse to this city girl.  The long U shaped driveway makes an easy entrance and a gentle farewell.

All this loveliness became all the more dear as soon as you walked in the door.  Your senses assaulted, all one wanted to do was make it go away.

So we did.

First we removed floor coverings in all sections of the house except the bathroom, kitchen, and back entry.
Above is a photo of one end of the living room and below is the upstairs hallway where the kids bedrooms are.

Then the walls started coming down.
This perspective below no longer exists.
There's now a wall where you see the sawn off 2x4's, and 3 bunks from floor to ceiling on the boys room side and a double closet on the girls side.

The black and blue trim?  Oh yeah, that's a thing of the past.
Again, this view has vanished, but the photo was taken from what is now the boys room looking through to what became the girls room.

"Hey guys, have you seen my hammer?"
For reals - our friend's hammer is somewhere in an area landfill.
We never found it in the pile above and eventually the mountain of debris was carted off to the dumpster.

Notice won't you that there's still lap on the walls, studs to frame rooms, and ceilings in these photographs.
I wasn't around to take the pictures, but that all went away.
The upstairs was gutted to the  inside surface of the exterior boards, and only one 6-8 foot section of wall remained in the interior space.
We re-framed the entire upstairs save for the one little section of load bearing wall I just mentioned.

I don't exactly remember how long it took us to make this much of a mess.
Confidently, I can assure you that it was only a matter of days.

Thank you Nester for being such a gracious hostess.  
Have you enjoyed checking in on the other 31 Days Bloggers?

Prose, Pictures, and the Practical

High white clouds drift lazily in the September blue sky.  Although quite warm outside, a small breeze makes for a pleasant place in the shade.  It is Labor Day and we're resting today.

Most of the time we work really hard.  And, Weekend Farmer Husband and I enjoy it. Most of our children do too, at least to a point.  But today, on purpose, we started and stayed slow, and it feels richly satisfying.

It's not that we didn't "do" anything though.  Animals have been properly cared for and appreciated.  Water has been administered to thirsty plants.  Meals are planned, prepared, cleaned up after.  A friend and some of his family came, we forged a new threshold of relationship as we processed a couple of his noisy rooster companions, now meant for his family table instead of their created role as daylight criers.

This is our normal.  A high labor high yield lifestyle.  And, we're only slowly beginning to understand that this may not be normative.

Recently, a good friend suggested that the content here should reflect the practical of what we've learned, how we "do".  After all, we were pretty run of the mill suburbanites a short two years ago.  Disconnected from food production, from land, from the span of seasons and how it impacts what we eat and how we live, reliant on grids, city water treatment plants, municipal salt and snow trucks, among an unnamed myriad of other services and conveniences, frankly, it was a good and happy life.  But, we had no idea of what it really meant when we decided to move out of town.

At first, we simply desired more space and the liberty afforded by downsizing our home.  For the first time in 17 years of parenting we committed me full time to supporting Weekend Farmer Husband, raising our children, giving my consistent attention to home educating and managing our home.

The curve was long and thankfully very gentle.  And somewhere along the way, influenced by books, movies, and convinced by the Holy Spirit, we found ourselves committed not only to "living out of town", but to land stewardship, animal husbandry, food production, health, the family table, and living with deeply rooted gratitude within our means and with eyes wide open for opportunity.

We didn't plan.  We just started.  And that's how we continue - we are perhaps the Clampetts of "Just Do It".  Sorry Nike.  I suspect your marketing team had something else in mind.

Our experience has been that most of what we purpose to do, wish we could do, or might like to do is achievable if we're willing to labor for it.  And we are.

Some of you have been very complimentary about the yield you can see from our efforts.  And, oh how your words are like honey.  Without outside encouragement our efforts always flag.  So, please, keep it comin'! But, sometimes you make the mistake of assuming that we're special, or different, or somehow more equipped than you are. And that from the outside looking in, the idyllic pictures portray a kind of life that you could never have.

Not true.

I won't diminish the idea that perhaps we've been given an uncommon gift in this new life we're forging.

Conversely, I hope you won't limit hope that you too could and maybe will someday do what we do, learn what we've learned, and lay hold of this high labor high yield lifestyle that allows for mellow September afternoons filled with iced tea on the front porch, chickens clucking in the barn, and night cool closing in on cows in pasture and family gathered satisfied and well.

**********************************************************************************
And since some of you have asked, here's something practical that we use with good success on the farm.  This formula is readily available on the internet - other blogs and Pinterest for sure, but I offer our farm tested, family satisfying, adapted home made Powdered Laundry Soap Recipe:

Ingredients:

Two Bars Castille Soap
( I use Dr. Bronner's Lavender or Peppermint bar soap. It's available at my local super market, or click on this to source it from Amazon))

One large box of Baking Soda
(Yup, just plain old baking soda found in the baking aisle of your local market.  I use the 64oz/4lb. size)

Lavender or Peppermint Essential Oil
(These too my local supermarket carries.  Lots of blogs I read recommend this site/company, but I've not personally purchased anything from them)

Directions:
Cut the bars of soap into small pieces.  Dicing is probably too fine...shall we try to define this as chunks?

Add about 1/4 of your chunks to your food processer fitted with mixing /chopping blade.

Add about 1/4 of the baking soda.

Pulse until combined.
(Watch out - the baking soda will "poof" out a bit and you might find yourself feeling a little sneezy with a strange salty taste in your mouth! )

While blade is spinning add 5 +/- drops of essential oil

Repeat above steps until you've combined all the baking soda and soap.

Place in a seal-able container (we use an old gallon ice cream tub) or containers and place in a place convenient to your laundry routine.

I use about 1/8th cup per load.

Some thoughts:
I'm risking a bad memory here and possible correction from you dear reader, but I think this gives me 80+ loads.
You can use less, more, or no essential oil.  The fragrance and its strength is according to your personal preference.
The oil does not leave any stains/residue on your clothing.
I have front loading HE washers and this formula has performed very well for us.
DO NOT use vinegar as a softner/rinse aid - it'll be the horror movie version of middle school science class all over your laundry area!
Depending on sales, coupons, and "buying it right" this costs me just under $10 per batch.
Our current favorite fragrance is lavender and there's just the faintest trace of lingering fragrance once the load finishes cycling.
If making this with the help of your children (and by all means, include them - then they'll know how to "do" too), please remember that essential oils are very powerful and avoid direct contact with skin.

Ok- so many words!

I'd love to hear from you - what would you like to learn more about?
If you try this, what results did you achieve?
Shall we make this a conversation? Yes? Please!

Would you Rather...

Several Christmas's ago, our older sons gave our family a game called, "Would you Rather?".  It's a fun family/party game that presents different options or scenarios and in turn you are called upon to answer based upon your preference.  Lots of laughing is involved, lots of "ewwwww", or "I would never...", maybe a "That would be cool...."

So, honestly, I would rather answer the siren call of this:

And bask in the revealed glory of this:

Than have the record of our evening display this:

Well, you got me, that's not me.
(Weekend Farmer Husband pausing briefly with that wry resigned grin of his when he knows he's in my camera sights)
And, frankly, I play much more of a supporting role than a lot of the actual hands on dirty work - even though I would be willing, I'm much more effective and helpful managing little people, and sourcing the necessary elements for the job, as well as directing clean up in the aftermath.

I think I've got a whole 'nother post rolling around in the grey matter ready to take on the important topic of work.  It's a necessary and valuable part of a farm and no other lifestyle is entirely exempt.  We all do it.  We all have a love hate relationship with it.  I don't know about you, but I often find other work more engaging and worthy than my own...you know how it is, organizing somebody else's closet is much more attractive than dealing with your own.  Maybe it's because at the end of the project you can truly just walk away, you don't have any lingering responsibility.  Whereas your own work is wherever you are regardless of age, profession, socio economic status...excepting for brief sabbaticals, work is ever present in our day to day.

It frequently occurs to me that I offer only the smallest peeks into the labor and effort of restoring and redeeming this farm and life of ours.

(And, especially for my friends whose reformed theology carefully distinguishes between a faith based and works based sanctification, I want to assure you that I in no way believe that our family can redeem it's own life - {gentle smile})

I simply want to disclose that this adventure is work.  And lots of it.  And it occurs any time of day or night.  A farm is no respecter of the clock.  And it's often stinky, gross, heartbreaking, conflict generating, and downright difficult.

But, this Green Acres is as idyllic as you or I see it.  Notably, it is multifaceted, demanding, comprehensive in it's draw on our resources, and profoundly difficult as well as rewarding.

Many of you dream of living as we do.  You share fond hopes that someday you'll leave your city lot behind, or your suburb, or your village and secure your own piece of green.  Oh, how I long for your dream to be the reality and for the blessing of this life for you and your loved ones.

And soon, I will write more about work.

For now, I will conclude with a picture that displays the nitty grity of what it sometimes takes to live this happy dream.  And, I'll be humbled by servant's hands and love that labors to meet all our needs.

P.S. Thanks for your concern... we all do have and wear gloves.  Some jobs require hands on and gloves off...We're still figuring out how to heal our hands.