31 Days of Green Acres - Day 4 (Well, not really)

Sometimes, and in this case once a year, something important comes around that takes precedence over other commitments. (Like a 31 Days Series - self imposed no less)

Today I pause in the telling of our story to celebrate one of life's truest joys - a daughter.

We've called her our "Itty Bitty" for quite some time.

Can you see that's gonna need to change?

Chocolate cake, smiling faces, and exuberant kids filled the evening while we lived it up enjoying one another and her one wish - a rollerskating party in the barn!

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 3

Weekend Farmer Husband is very private.  Although he's gregarious, uninhibited, and an excellent conversationalist, he holds his thoughts very closely.  So, when he over the course of our marriage has out of the blue said things like, "I'm ready," I know he's saying something big.  I don't know what it is.  Well, that's not actually true. I know it's generally an invitation to jump off a cliff.

One evening out of the blue he said, "It's time."

With no context, heart in my throat, eyes bulging out of my head, counting to ten I breathlessly but  feigning calm inquired, "Time for what?"

Long story short, he'd been thinking for a long time about putting our home up for sale and looking for a little piece of land with enough house to meet our needs somewhere out in the country.  And, what he meant when he said it's time was that we would not only put our house on the market, but we would actively begin searching for, and then buy as soon as we found it, our new house. 

Are you picking up what I'm laying down? He fully intended for us to be supporting and managing two houses for however long as it took for him to work his plan.  The plan he had yet to tell me. 

I'm a pretty adventuresome sort of gal, and have been willing to go along with most of his schemes through the years, but this was BIG.  He was telling me to sell a home I loved and was completely settled into for ...well, he didn't really know.  But, he wanted me to do it anyway.

In hindsight, maybe I should have been upset, leery, or even cautionary.  But, remember I told you yesterday that if I'd known then what I know now, it would have been overwhelming. But, I didn't know, so at the time I asked for one stipulation.  I agreed to do something radical but please, not rash. 

Over the course of a couple of days, Weekend Farmer Husband talked through the whole of his plan with me, at least the parts that were formed.  He didn't have the complete picture, but he had enough to get started and to lead his family to a new place. Little by little, he revealed bits of spread sheets, budgets, needs, and desires and told me to call a realtor.

Two weeks later our house was on the market and we began a cycle of an unprecedented number of showings.  And, I had a really short list of criteria for a new property.

He asked me to find:
High speed Internet
Natural gas for heat
A particular utility company's power supply grid.
Acreage
Within 1/2 hour drive of our existing community
And a decent house

All for less than...drum roll please.....


$100,000.

And I did.  But not without one deal falling through.  Not without (for a short time), at least on paper being obligated to 3 separate properties .  Not without financial strain. 

But Weekend Farmer Husband had anticipated this scenario and had captured the "potentialities", and had generated a number of possible responses.  This clearly fit (at least in my mind), my criteria of  radical not rash.

So, we pressed forward. 

With a for sale sign in our front yard it seemed obvious that we needed to begin telling family and friends that we'd be making a move.  And, we had very few clear answers for their pointed questions. 

Yesterday, I left you with a little bit of a cliffhanger, and we did indeed walk a financial tight rope and make some big sacrifices, but this isn't a simple story.  So, won't you come back, give me a reason to keep typing, and in the end I hope be encouraged by our story and what has become a vision of redemption for Liberty Farm?

Many thanks to the Nester for hosting this amazing 31 Days event.  Do you want to be amazed and inspired?  More than 1000 bloggers are participating!  Click here to see their buttons and go to their site.  Maybe visit and comment - we all thrive on your encouragement!

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 1

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 2

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 2

Perhaps this is the story we're asked to tell most often.  Weekend Farmer Husband is most typically the one who recounts the tale.  Consequently, although the story is mine, I've not spent much time developing it, giving it chronology, words, or most importantly, legacy. Yesterday's anxiety about a 31 Day series has become today's relief that there's time for me to refine, retell, and claim the story too.

Compelling because it was such a change from how we'd oriented and lived our lives, this story also seems to attract others who dream of country living, self sustenance, homesteading, animals, food production, home renovations, and more.  Liberty Farm speaks to many dreams, ours included, but we didn't always understand this.

At first, the  motivation that we could articulate was singular.  Financial freedom beckoned, and we were willing to reinvent ourselves and the way we lived to achieve it. 

People always ask, "What did you do?" or, "How did you decide?" or, "How did you get started?" So, get in the Way Back Machine and journey to the summer of 2009.

The answer isn't complicated.  We just did it.  I know I've alluded to this in other posts, but to be fair, it's a little more complex than that.

Please keep in mind that with an singular goal, initially it didn't seem like too far a reach.  In hindsight, if I'd known then what I know now about our changed hearts, passions, and goals it would have been too much. 

But, financial freedom is pretty clear cut and can be "reduced" in essence to a series of business like decisions.

Weekend Farmer Husband's work environment was changing and as the economy collapsed, pay matrixes, loads, sales models, etc. were being reinvented. He felt it would be prudent in the long term to hedge our family from the impact of our comfortable life style choices.

And, I wanted to come home.  The more I worked outside our home, the less I could support the increasing demands of Weekend Farmer Husband's job let alone our family.  Home education, parenting, our marriage, and community was continually strained and our relationships were suffering. 

So, the city mice put their big, comfy, finished home up for sale in a loser market, and started looking for a burrow in the country.

And with only an inkling of what was to come, we put security, conventional wisdom, and to some degree social reputation on the line because we ended up teetering on the brink of foreclosure.

Thank you Nester, for gathering so many bloggers together and hosting the 31 Days event.  If you'd like to check out the other courageous participants, click here!

31 Days of Green Acres- Day 1

31 Days of Green Acres- Day One

Welcome!

This post below is the first of a 31 Day Series.

For other entries please click on the links below.

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 2

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 3

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 4 (well, not really)

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 5

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 6 

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 7

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 8

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 9

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 10

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 11

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 12

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 13

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 14

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 15

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 16

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 17

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 18

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 19

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 20

31 Days of Green Acres - Day 21

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 22

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 23

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 24

31 Days to Green Acres - Day 25

31 Days to Green Acres -Day 26

 

I'm actually afraid to start typing.  Because if I do, I'll keep adding words, ideas will build, and at the end I'll click "publish".  That, my friends, is terribly unnerving as I'm about to join in a blogging adventure initiated by The Nester in which I will attempt to post for 31 days in a row.  The goal is to write brief but targeted posts and since I've been so absent here lately, why not do a cliff dive and decide to just free fall into either epic success or dismal failure?  What could possibly go wrong?

Liberty Farm is the topic and I've got maybe 5 days worth of material loosely formed in the gray matter.  Ah hah, now you understand don't you?  Although I've thought about it, I've not planned ahead sufficiently, and there's that niggling phrase that began as a helpful whisper but is now pretty much an irritating jingle - "She who fails to plan, plans to fail."  Yup, that's me, the planning failer.

But, I've got a little secret - I "perform" reasonably well under pressure.  In fact, it's often my most effective motivator.  Furthermore, I'm pretty sure the blog police (could exist, maybe not, I've heard it both ways...), don't have their eyes on me, and what's the worst thing that could happen if I mess up or get derailed?

So, I'm gonna try.  My greatest concern is that I might frustrate you, the most valuable part of this blog - my reader.  But, you're not like that are you?  You is good, you is kind, and you're ok with me trying, right?

The kettle's on.  The mugs are clean.  Coffee or tea - your choice.  The door is open.

Won't you come on down to the farm?

I Will Wear this Crown

Used to be only a hint glinted through the masses
giving suggestion to waxing maturity.
Color now rapidly waning
silver sweeps up the sides.

I'm told it's fair
and I wonder if truth's been told.
It feels radical not lovely.
Courage not chemical poured over pores.

Culture taunts with youth and its esteem.
Sisters, we are compelled to cover.
Depreciation might bring wounds to bear
but when bare there is liberty.

Freedom to welcome the years
and the pull on my body.
Hard fought, my will counsels
that this slipping toward finish is good.

Time, gift and leveler, does its work.
As days mingle into years
the bounty of one is at the expense of the other
and I nurture the wan.

Softness continues its creep,
and my edges get increasingly blurred.
Twilight doesn't seem so long away
and I curate the beauty of this slow fade.

Sons, daughters, the loveliness of this life
has been bought but is not for sale.
Often we are given the first blush of its gift,
but it is ours to cultivate if we will.

************************************
Today is my father's 70th birthday.  I've not known him to have a regular practice of reading poetry, but I think in recent years he's come to listen carefully to the poet when reading a poem and has developed an appreciation for this form.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  Although this is about me, I trust you'll read and hear the voice that's attempting to speak for all of us who may not yet be old but certainly are no longer young.

Proverbs 16:31
Gray hair is a crown of glory;
it is gained in a righteous life.

Would you like to read more of my dad's journey with cancer?  You'll be blessed.  Click here.

************************************

What do you think...a morning cup together and a poem every Saturday?  Might you comment and grace me with your thoughts?

.

On Water and Writing

Sometimes I come to this place and my fingers fairly drip with words.  Large, fat, round droplets splash on keyboard and words stream into white space. Exhilarated and flush with creativity, every aspect of bending water to my will is a delight.

Conversely, I've known word droughts where cracked fingers come to this vessel, head tipped back, I open my mouth praying for just one drop to be released from the depths and I swear I will be satisfied.  Denied, my fingers stumble, hesitate, and have little endurance.

Yes, the two conditions sometimes co-mingle, but one typically has the upper hand - either one, at any given opportunity, and I'm left to wonder, what makes it so?

Although still new to this, I suspect I've poured out enough to with some legitimacy state that the water level has to do with time, time, time, and more time.  Dedicated effort yields a full cup.  Most times.

Sometimes time and effort is not enough.  What then?

Would behavioral psychologists suggest that I should just keep doing what I'm doing, fake it 'til I make it, repeat positive patterns until my parched throat is whetted with words and thirst is satisfied?  Perhaps.

Writers, would you tell me to find my muse, walk in Thoreau's woods, indulge in Hemingway's bottle, or work Berry's soil?

Any and all of those suggestions are valid, although not all will be profitable.

Nearly to the end of this querying, I think I see water and am drawn to the river's edge.

At times a rushing rolling rapid and other times a dry bed, I chart it's course for you, the reader.  Someday, I hope, my offspring will read with understanding and thanksgiving this legacy of supple fingers as well as cracked lips.  For now, you, with comments below, messages in my inbox, and a personal word deliver the quenching cup.

My thirst is slaked with encouragement, and you have been so kind to pour out.  And so, my fingertips move, tentatively at first, and by the end right slicing through the water to write my thanks, a deep reservoir of gratitude.

Chronicling gifts - a ongoing joy:
-Weekend Farmer Husband's interview went well.  We are carefully negotiating through terms of employment and considering the impact to his entrepreneurial vision.
-A gift, anonymously given, that helps to bear our financial burden
-My father has been given "permission" for a two day sailing trip - nearly 100 days since his transplant.
-Early autumn fellowship of hayride, God's word on the trail, rope swing, hot dogs on a stick, and a roaring bonfire drawing community together.
-Hospitality, although I do sometimes grow weary of what it requires, is yielding encouragement for God's kingdom and we press on with our open home.
-Books, big thick nerdy ones, and other geeks like me who love a good read and who discuss how masterful words change our very souls.  Encouragement.
-Our library.  The children are as excited to go to the library each week as they are on Christmas morning.
-Word from my mother that she's pretty sure that when she goes to visit my brother and his family in NC that MI is "on the way home".  We anticipate her visit with great delight.
-A furnace that warms the mornings.
-Plentiful water for us and animals, and this thirsty writer.
-Sons gathering in master bedroom in evenings to read the Word with us, the last thing before slumber.
-Scholarships - more than one for first born daughter who relishes being a student.
-Continued physical well being.  Remarkable assurance that the hairs on our head are numbered. Matthew 10:29-31

A Glad Day

Amber sun gilds the sky and clouds glow silver with onyx edge.

Heavy on the grass, dew bends each blade.

Through a crack my open eyes receive the light.

Heaviness pulls me, and like the narrow leaves I think I might stay curled.

Upright, I pause, find the center, and move slow.

Drawn, vision roves and locks on full spectrum.

Satisfaction, glad song rises within, and I wake to unfailing love.

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,

that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.

Psalm 90:14