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Our Bees Have Arrived

May 18, 2012 by Rachel

Our bees came Monday morning. Chad received a call from the post office (the rural carriers don’t like to deliver boxes of bees, apparently) and picked them up bright and early, and Oliver and I threw on our “bee clothes” (long sleeved shirt and long pants for me, and you can see his regalia down below) and headed out to the property, where the hive was ready and waiting.  It was a beautiful, perfect morning, and I wanted to take photographs of the spider webs covered in dew and the nodding daisies in the meadow, but I had to pay attention to other things.

There were some last minute adjustments to be made. Namely, attaching the hive to the concrete blocks below, to keep it from being too tippy. This bee hive looks different than others you may have seen because it is a top bar hive. Using a top bar is less invasive and more gentle than conventional beekeeping. Proponents of the method like to call it “bee guardianship.” We’re all for gentle and less invasive. We won’t harvest as much honey, but it’s better for the bees.

I look upon the photograph below with mixed feelings. One is a feeling of amazement at how incredible our son is– he carefully, calmly and confidently walked over, picked up the box of 10,000 bees, and brought it over to the hive. The other feeling I have is, What the heck kind of parents are we? Letting our son walk around with a box of 10,000 bees?! 

Standing back, watching daddy remove the queen. She is in her own little tiny box, separate from the other bees by a piece of candy, which she has three days to eat through to escape. Sounds like Mission: Impossible for bees.

The Queen Bee is the one with the white dot marked on her back. (Who wants that job?) We’re not sure about the other bees in with her.  They’re just there.

The moment of truth…and prayers, and being ready to run like crazy people. I told Oliver at this point to run and shut himself in the truck if things should go awry. Everything went perfectly, by the way. I won’t keep you in suspense.  Chad dumped the bees into the hive. They flew around a lot, we stepped back and let them do their thing.

Then he fed the bees breakfast. They had some honey.

We can’t believe we have bees out there on our property now. We don’t do much but go stare at them in amazement, and Chad checked on the queen once and gave them some more honey. They haven’t left, so we take that as a good sign.

It’s a little surreal. Bees, and a house. On our property. In the woods. (Yes, I have to think of it in bits and pieces like that.) I am so grateful.

Posted in bees, gratitude, life with oliver | Tagged , , | 1 Comment »

Friday Gratitudes

May 11, 2012 by Rachel

 

 

 

 

 

A quiet spot in the woods to read my Bible and think.

A rainbow water color on a quiet afternoon, thinking about the rainbow around the throne. (Rev 4:4)

A happy and inventive boy on a bike with a garden cart. Also he is wearing a thrifted sport coat, a tee shirt, and a tie. This is normal for him.

 

 

 

 

 

Some earl gray for my morning in a thrifted french press.

Something to remember: “Only one life, will soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.”

Butter with my toast. We have started eating sprouted toast again, limited to one delicious piece a day.

Oliver’s newly acquired library card. I nearly cried. He wrote his name so carefully. He smiled so big. We were proud of that day.

My hair is still growing out after three years. I am a little bewildered by it.

Another watercolor. I find this soothing and I enjoy focusing intently on it, like a child focuses at play.

Watercolor, yellow and red.

Silly me and sweaty son. His hair doesn’t normally stick up like that.

Iced tea: sleepytime with supper. It didn’t work, but a mama can always try.

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Date Night with Oliver

May 9, 2012 by Rachel

Oliver and I went on a date the other night. I took him to see a performance of Into the Woods at our local high school (where I graduated), and he loved it. We had been listening to the recording of Into the Woods for a few weeks and talking about the storyline, so my granny got the Broadway performance on DVD from Netflix, and he loved that too, but he said the live performance was the best. It was a looong show, and he removed his tie and boots during the second act, but he made it through.  Ten years ago, I played the role of Cinderella in our community theater’s production of the show, and I’ve been enamored with it since I was about 9 years old, so it was special to be able to share the story with Oliver. He seems to be growing up a lot lately, and I love who he is becoming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My Yard is a Mud Pit -or- Transition

May 8, 2012 by Rachel

Yesterday was the first day during the house building process that I wanted to plop down in the grass and have a good cry.

There were some miscommunications, some things overlooked. Not all my fault, but some.  The drywall man was annoyed with me, I had to make an emergency rescue-me phone call to my builder (who came right away, wonder of wonders–oh how I love that man in a completely professional way!), and lovely, here come the guys with the lift to work on the rooftop and now everybody has to move their trucks and be all up in each others’ bidness.

There was more to it, but basically that.

Instead of crying in the grass, I made Oliver stop with me and we prayed. I sent an email to my praying sisters, and I went to the pole barn (where all our stuff is currently stored in big heaping piles that make my skin crawl) and I stared at my planty babies for a while and took some deep breaths.

You know what? It worked out. I don’t think anyone threw any punches, and everybody did their jobs.  And if I ever do this again, which I hope I don’t, I now know that the cold air returns need to be framed in before the drywall crew arrives, I know the county’s code regulations for drywall around and underneath basement steps, and I know exactly who I would recommend to build your house, if you ever ask.

Here are some photos of our progress…keep in mind that we are in what I am referring to as transition. You know that time during labor where things really get cookin’? In other words…it looks like crap. Only a mother could love it right now. I know this. I’m showing you the photos anyway, because I believe in this project and I know it’s going to be beautiful. It’s beautiful to me already.

Here’s the one where our yard looks sort of like a slum.

Before the drywall was delivered, Oliver and I cleaned up all the messes left by the contractors. We swept and wore our gardening gloves, and he wore his little dust mask and we picked up all the trash and bagged it up. It didn’t stay this nice for very long.

In case you ever wondered how they get drywall upstairs. (I think she looks like, “Oh! My eye!”)

The ceiling peaks at 24′. We’ve got a lot of scaffolding going on. Here is the stairway to the loft/sleeping rooms.

See that dormer up there in the loft? That is my nest. And down below is the kitchen. Sink goes under the window. Fridge and cooktop on the other wall.  The floor joists above the kitchen will remain exposed, all painted white.  Beams will stay woodlike in appearance.

And, a bit of hope. One wall done with brick! Check out the fancy above the windows– that was a surprise. We told the mason we wanted limestone sills, but I guess he wanted to gussy it up a bit beyond that. It is what it is, and I’m not going to be silly about it.

We had our rough-in inspection last week, and we have about six weeks to go before we’ll call for the final occupancy inspection.  There is a lot to do between now and then, so if you need to find me, I’ll either be painting or I’ll be hiding out in the pole barn.

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My Planty Babies

May 6, 2012 by Rachel

Succulents.

They’re all the rage these days, as far as I can tell through my Internet portal. I have been growing them for about three years, and I’m still lucky if the leaves don’t turn brown and plop off when I give them their weekly drowning. (They don’t like much water, if you didn’t know– and I have finally started marking on the calendar when to water them. We’ll see if this helps.) So it’s not like I am a succulent expert. I just really enjoy them.

I love them because they’re green.

I love them because they’re soft. Or spiky.

I love them when they’re tiny. This one below is in what I think is called a brandy snifter. Yes, I looked it up. That’s what it is.

I love them because they’re living. And quiet. I like quiet things.

Oliver really likes cactus for some reason (maybe they remind him of his mother: prickly. retains water.), so he picks out a new one about every other time we go to the greenhouse. Here is a little collection of cacti that was potted (and rocked) by Oliver himself:


I have purchased my succulents from a local greenhouse, and from Home Depot. I bought bags of the little white rocks and a bag of the bigger polished rocks from Home Depot too, but many of my “decoration” rocks I already had on hand. I use cactus/palm potting soil and put some of the little white rocks at the bottom for drainage, because most of my pots don’t have holes. A lot of the pots I have now are vintage pottery I’ve picked up at Goodwill or the local thrift store. $3.75 is the most I’ve paid for any of them; most are $1-$2.

One thing I like about succulents is that if a leaf falls off (or if you break it off while trying to plant it in a tiny brandy snifter with your big man hands, whose stupid idea was this anyway?!), you can just stick it in the soil and it will grow a new plant.  Oliver and I have started several this way to give as gifts. A wonderful excuse to keep an eye out for more pottery. :)

Here is some planty inspiration from The Nester.  And here is my succulent board on Pinterest.

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Little Cathedral

April 24, 2012 by Rachel

Here is where we are right now. Chad and I will celebrate eight years of marriage in June. Our house will be ready in approximately eight weeks. Oliver will turn six in July. I will turn 29 in August.

I feel like I haven’t had time to think in six months. To sit, to think, to write, to process, to plan…about anything other than the house. And that’s okay, I think. There are times like that in a person’s life.  Two friends now have referred to the house as our “baby,” and I guess it has been like that in a way.  I know we’re not the only ones who have ever built a house; maybe everyone feels this way. But this feels like a turning point for me, for our family. God has opened doors along the way to bring us here, in His perfect time, as we have continued to ask, to seek, to knock.

I have been drawing and thinking about my house off and on for twenty years. I have been working on it in earnest for four years. I guess it’s what I’ve done instead of earning a college degree. I want it to be a sanctuary and place of gathering; a place of learning and growth. It’s sort of funny how it’s turned out looking a bit like an old church building or an old schoolhouse. Sort of funny, sort of not. Sort of an accident, sort of not.

I walk through the house now, in its unfinished state, and I pray for it. I pray for the conversations that will take place in this room or that, or on the front porch that isn’t there yet. I pray for protection and safety, for covering. I pray for our relationships with one another, for wisdom, for the things that will happen there. I know that if we live there for many many years, we will mourn the deaths of our loved ones as we go about our days there. Perhaps we will meet our future daughter in law at the front door, and receive her with joy into our home and family.  I will watch Oliver come through the door taller and more a man every day of his life there.  Chad will watch his hair turn completely silver in the mirror that we put above his bathroom sink. Mine will turn white in the mirror next to his, and we will be old together.

Of course, nobody knows how things will go.  But I think about these things, and whatever God brings, and I hope they are good, and I hope God is glorified in our little cathedral.  I am so excited to show it to you, to invite you in and make endless pots of tea and listen to what is going on in your life, and take you on walks through the woods.  I am excited to hand you the cutting board and knife (careful! it’s a sharp one!) and ask you to please dice this onion, and, here, the scraps go in the compost. And we will talk while we cook and watch the kids. (While the men drink beer and tend the fire and talk about work and what’s on their hearts lately.)

This house won’t be perfect.  And I won’t be perfect in this house. I’ve learned enough to know these things now.  But nothing is perfect here, and God still blesses us, and we get through with grace.  I hope he lets us use this house to bless one another, to grow in Him, to raise our son into a godly man, to live our remaining days in love and kindness.

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Starting Again Tomorrow

April 9, 2012 by Rachel

So along with Chad’s birthday on Thursday, there was cheesecake. Coffee-flavored chocolate cheesecake with chocolate cookie crumb crust and amaretto whipped cream topping, courtesy of Chad’s good-baker-of-a-mother, who even drove out to the countryside to deliver it.

I would be embarrassed if you knew just how much of that cheesecake I’ve put away over the last four days. I may be just a little thing, but I can hold my sugar. You probably will never see me do it though, because I eat my sugar in private.

We took a planned week off of our sugar-wheat-dairy-free diet over the past seven days and went a little crazy–way crazier than we would have been normally. I can now say with great confidence that eating dairy and sugar make me feel and look ill the morning after.  Dark circles that I always thought were there due to my pale skin? Icky morning mouth? Mild yet persistent sore throat? Tickle cough? Wildly beating heart? All came back this week with a vengeance, after eight weeks of feeling pretty great.  I didn’t even realize these were symptoms. But now I know. That’s what I like about experimenting on myself– always discovering something new!

And Oliver’s temperament? Well….let’s just say it’s been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week for all of us here in the woods.

But oh, that birthday cheesecake tasted good. And the frozen custard with reese’s cups (twice). And the cheddar jalapeno cornbread. And the honey mint (sugar) green tea from the store. And the chai frapuccino! And the four mini snickers I snagged from Oliver’s Easter candy this afternoon.

But not that good.

We’re starting again tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to it.  We stocked up on beets and brussels sprouts and pineapple and apples and bananas and sweet potatoes at the store today so we have some goodness to get into our bodies tomorrow.  We allowed Oliver to participate in an Easter egg hunt today with the understanding that he could choose one piece of candy to eat and that Daddy would be taking the rest to work tomorrow. We were really proud when Oliver decided on his own to go to every person at our family gathering and offer them whatever they wanted from his bag of candy.  He hatched a plan on the way home to carry the bag of candy with him around town and give it away to people he sees. I’m not sure how that will work out, but am glad he’s thinking that way. (And the piece of candy he chose? Bubble gum. Weird kid.)

So that’s the end of my story today. I guess the moral is that many things that seem gratifying are only for a moment– just a taste and then it’s gone– they don’t nourish the body or enrich a life. These things– the momentary gratifications, whether it is something like a harsh reply or a quick sugar fix, are the things I don’t want to give place to in my life.  I know we can’t eat the “perfect” diet– not in this fallen world– but as steward of the body God has given me, and the little one he has given me to care for, I can avoid the things that I know make for sickness in our bodies, or affect our moods and make it harder to listen and obey.  So that’s what we’ll do. Starting again tomorrow. Starting again right now, actually, because I finished my last piece of cheesecake while I was writing this.

A joyful Easter to all today.  Because Jesus is who he says he is, because he conquered the power of death and sin and because he really is the way, the truth, and the life in a dark world.

Posted in my story, obedience, self discipline | Leave a Comment »

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