The Saturday after Christmas, I saw a post from someone I follow on Instagram saying they were going to begin a pantry challenge, and asked who wanted to join along.
I had just spent the last couple of days in a bit of a daze, after the blizzard and septic failure, and when the last of the company had returned home, I looked – in total awe – at the copious amounts of leftover food in our fridge.
It was a great year. It was a grievous year. It was an excruciating and an endearing year. It was 2018.
The end of the year saw us hosting my extended family for Christmas, 21 people in all. I planned ahead, I had every detail accounted for, and for the first time in my hospitable adulthood life, I was not the least bit stressed about it.
It’s been just over a week since Farmer John passed away. I find myself thinking of things I need to ask him, or trying to remember to tell him something the next time I see him walking out to his shop… only to realize that won’t happen.
It’s been a little surreal. I’m in denial in a lot of ways – it simply doesn’t seem possible he passed away. We had too much to share with him. He had so much to help us with.
And yet day by day, I recount how long it has been since I last talked to him. Since the last time I saw him. Since his funeral.
When we moved here almost a year ago, there was a certain sense of excitement and freedom.
We had lived in #littleapartmentontheprairie for two-and-a-half years, which was two years longer than we had planned. Moving out of there, of course, brought it’s own degree of freedom, but there was a restlessness I wasn’t aware I had.
It wasn’t the Tuesday I was expecting. I put a hot dog in a ninja and mixed it up with some applesauce for a homemade remedy.
You see, I was doing some computer work from my outdoor office (read: patio table) when I heard an incredible commotion from the chickens. It sounded like they were under attack so I ran back to make sure they were all accounted for. Continue reading “Why I Put A Hot Dog In A Ninja”
I may make this observation every April, but it seemed like the cold was going to hang around forever, and the snow storms would just keep coming. This winter seemed so. long. Thankfully, the cold relented and gave way to spring.
We haven’t been in #bighouseonalittleprairie for quite a year, so I’m enjoying experiencing the seasons here for the first time. The onslaught of blackbirds this spring was a bit of a surprise, but I think we’ve all learned to tolerate each other for now. They’ll be gone soon enough and we’ll have our yard back to share with the robins, sparrows, and mourning doves. Continue reading “Spring and Big House on a Little Prairie”
A week ago would have been Harlynn’s fifth birthday. For months, the weight of the number five loomed above my head, and I felt burdened with an awkward responsibility of having been a bereaved parent for that amount of time.