I called her Moonstone

Angela Renee Wheeler- August 12th 1972 - July 29th 2015

I crouch crippled in the pain of this loss. Moonstone, Phoenix Tears, Angeni, Amber, and so many more names and kenning for you, my fallen Clan sister. You have given me greater gifts than any other, Fire Dancer.  I wish I had told you than before the end. I swear upon your name, Life's Flame, that I will care for Colin, Kieran and Rhiannon, that I will bend back and will to keeping them safe. fed and happy. I will warm this house with the fire you inspired and may the Gods watch over you. To the next turn of the wheel, Ang.

Tennessee is Orange Country

Home Start

This week, I have started something new for my two year old daughter, soon to be three, Rose. Since Rose was born in mid to late August, she will not be old enough in time to begin the Head Start program this year. She will have to wait until next year and then she will be closer to four years old. So I have decided to start something I am calling "Home Start". I don't know much about homeschooling children but since Rose is two, we are working the basics. She already has colors and shapes down (though to tease you she will often tell you everything is "Pink!"). Now we are working on the alphabet, the numbers 1-10, and word association. A is for Apple, B is for Ball, C is for Cake etc.

In addition to reading preschool level books, I am also reading chapters nightly to Rose from "Farmer Boy" by Laura Ingalls Wilder. This is my favorite of the Little House series, though "Little House in the Big Woods" is still near and dear to my heart. Farmer Boy tells the story of nine year old Almanzo Wilder, growing up on his parent's horse farm in New York state. This hungry and energetic young boy will one day grow to become the husband of Laura Ingalls but in this story we find him the youngest of the Wilder family. Surrounded by his two sister, Eliza Jane and Alice, and his big brother Royal, Almanzo finds there is much work but no shortage of larks and lessons to be learned on the farm. For anyone who wants a view into what it means to run a large barn, this is a charming tale of a time long since past.

For Yule 2014, I was giving the Little House Cookbook, which outlines recipes for all the food mentioned in the books. It has instructions for glorious chicken pies, roasted goose and homemade ice cream and taffy candy. Things range in skill level from fried apples and onions to Laura's own wedding cake. As I am in love with the mid and late 1880s, this was the perfect gift for me. One of the recipes I am eager to try is the one for Vinegar Pie. This was a poor man's staple in the late 1880s and I intend to bring it into the foreground for Heroic Interactive Theater's World of Hashonen: Badlands Live Action Role Playing Game that will be starting in August 2015. Just around the corner.

One thing I have fallen in love with since I quit my full time job is all the time I get to spend with Rose. I get to be present for her every new word, every advancement and achievement. Every night I sing "Down to the River to Pray" and "Baby Mine"; each note fills my heart with boundless light. For now Rose and I head outside to check on the garden. It makes me proud that I am raising my daughter to love the earth and care for the plants which give us food. I hope she learns to love the act of farming as much as I have but if the day comes she wishes to fly from agriculture and pursue a city life, I will kiss her cheek and wish her luck. She will always know she can come home to the squash and the mint, to heart, hearth and home.

As the rain cometh

 I was lucky to get Angela, Rose and myself out the door today before afternoon rolled around because that is when it happened. The air went heavy and hushed, the sky to the west began to darken and then before you knew it, it was near purple with the promise of a heavy rain. Yes and then, hard rain it did. Such a hard rain left me with a sleepy contentedness and I set to my work. A beef roast with rustic vegetables; potatoes, carrots and onions in a shallow pool of sherry. Dusted with powered sage, black pepper and sea salt. Dotted with butter. In addition to this lovely main course, I baked three sweet potatoes. My mother, Dolores, would bake sweet potatoes in a shallow pan of water, just enough to loosen their skins. She would cut butter into small pieces and rub into shifted flour. A little cold water later and some handy labor, she would have a pie crust. It would go into a pie plate that had been in our family for at least three generations. I can close my eyes and still feel it in my hands, at the time heavy but warm as a kiss on the cheek. I was a child then but even now as a woman, a wife and mother, I find the perfume of a sweet potato pie to be like a sigh from heaven. A balm to this garden woman's soul.

An hour and twenty minutes later, I sit sipping berry sweet tea, fill a happy belly and an even happier heart. Sitting in the living room, watching Gladiator and planning out more of my garb for my SCA persona. I finally purchased my SCA membership last week and I am steadily fleshing out Octavia Juliana, Roman by way of Byzantine. With luck both her name and arms will be approved, conflict free.

Now my lovelies, I bid you goodnight and sweet dreams. May your week be sweet and full of wonder.

Acceptance

If the garden gods had a common prayer, would it sound like this?


Lords of Green and Gold, give me the will to accept that I shall have losses. 

There will be trials of heavy weather, pests and mildew. There shall be rot. 

There will be great bounty tempered by great failure. To grow organic is to celebrate and to suffer.

Lady of Roots and Leaves, give me the will to accept my bounty with a humble and grateful heart. 

Teach me with dirt caked hands what it means to bring beauty into this world.

To nurture, to grow, to live in a kaleidoscope of verdant pleasures.
For love, for Clan and Community.
Amen.

No Buzz

Sad news for the Heart of Home. Due to this years long freezing period, heavy rains and the chemical spill accident in Maryville this past month, there will be no honey bees this year for my family. This is a heavy blow to both Colin and myself, who were looking so forward to producing our own honey and beeswax. Many fine times have come to the Heart of Home but this circumstance reminds me that joy is always tempered by loss.

And indeed, this is a hurtful loss to the Clan.

It's not all gorgeous pictures, as Jenna Woginrich so aptly put. To homestead is to know joy and pain, those two timeless dance partners.

I heave a heavy sigh and turn my mind back to what I can do. I cannot conjure ideal conditions for honey bees but I can keep guard of my garden, clean the house and make sure the larder is full. Every little bit helps. 

The Love of the Home

7:45am rolls around and I roll out of my bed. My normal wake up time is from 6:00am until 8:00am, depending on what chores need to be done that day. I go and shower, dress and begin the morning ritual. I get my matches and light the candles. One by the front door and one on the windowsill overlooking the sink in the kitchen. One for a prayer of protection for our threshold, the other for a prayer of bounty for our larder. Trash is gathered and taken outside. Normally, Kieran will do this part this task of the household but when I can I pitch in. Water is put in the kettle for tea, a picnic shoulder or whole chicken is taken out of the deep freezer in early preparation for tonight's dinner. Last night I harvest rainbow chard and squash blossoms for the picnic shoulder. I get Rose up around 9:00am and get her changed,dressed and head downstairs to make breakfast. I cut up apples and pour out raisins, toast wheat bread and top it with butter. Then we sit down to watch a Disney movie while we have breakfast.

After breakfast I will start Rose's laundry, sorting between things that are 2T, 3T and 4T. The 2T clothing will go to my niece Addie Rae and Rose will keep the 3 and 4T clothing. I have been setting up Rose's room to look more like a pre-school class room. Since she will not be three until four days after the cut off for Head Start registration, I will be starting what I call "Home Start" here in the Clan home. I have found an alphabet border, Angela gave us animal posters with facts on them and today I will be hanging up a growth chart. We will be converting Rose's crib to a toddler bed soon and I am working on a Bambi quilt to match Rose's pillow case. I will also be hanging a Bambi movie poster in her room.

Tonight I will go out to the garden, wipe down the squash and prune back any runners of weeds. We have fifteen squash total, at least seven of which will undoubtedly survive until harvest down. Two have come off of the vine early and I am attempting to ripen them in accordance to instructions I found of pumpkins. This are Japanese pumpkins and I'm confidant it will work. The squash are continuing toward a dark green color and we have four that have turns a bright orange.

Also, our Brown Turk fig tree is growing steadily. I will have to transport it out of its pot and into soil soon.

Since I left the Maids, I have been able to turn my heart and attentions back into the home. This includes many things; upkeep of the house and its cleaning, food preparation and storage, laundry, caring for children and pets, and enjoy extra time with my husband. Words cannot express how good it is to have this time, to turn my focus back toward the home. It is work and it is a blessing.

Silent Sunday

A short bed time story

Camouflage Yarn ( 100% Acrylic) and hunter green yarn (100% Cotton)

 It started out a simple chain of lime green links and then soft sage green was added to the line. Both of the lime green yarn and the sage green yarn, which almost looks green-yellow in the picture below, were made of 100% virgin wool. This yarn was a gift from a kind man at my first SCA event. I worked on it on and off for weeks, usually right before bedtime and sprawled across my pewter comforter. What was suppose to be a baby blanket got away from me however. 

I'm not sure what happened but somewhere along the way I stopped paying attention and let my fingers do the decision making. What I am making now is sized more to fit a full sized bed. I hope my sister will forgive me when I gift to her; what was meant for a 9 month old infant now could snuggle both him and his almost 6 year old brother. Maybe it was the universes way of telling me that Megan needed something to keep her warm in the face of the coming winter. Half of the year is over and I am turning my mind toward afghans, quilts and scarves. 

Not too shabby for being half way done.

 Winter might seem like a long way off but my mind lingers on him. I remember him when the cold air rolls off the mountain and the rain comes. I feel his touch linger like that of a lover and like a lover, I prepare myself for him.  With half the year already gone, I feel like must get a leg up on Winter. That means checking on the garden more, preserving food and spending a lot of time on the bed, crochet hook in hand.

For all of my readers here at home, Happy 4th of July. Today our country's independence will be celebrated with apple pie fresh from the oven, homemade ice cream. A special ice cream I created myself called "North meets South". It is a sweet cream ice cream of maple syrup and brown sugar. Just right for a golden apple pie. I raise my glass to that, to simple pleasures and the freedom of a nation of such startling beauty and fearsome power.