This summer was a very hard one for our family, from garden failures, to puppy trauma, to the deaths of people who were very dear to us.

Other updates? I share an honest update on the new non-toxic cleaners we’ve been using & which work the best (recipes were all shared in S5 E19). And I give my thoughts on the natural face serum and protein powder I’ve been using this year.

Going through a difficult season makes us more aware of the little moments of joy that we might otherwise miss, so we really need to focus on the simple joys every day. It makes every day sweeter.

If we value the right thing–and build our “economy” around what really matters–we are joy-filled and blessed regardless of our circumstances.

Listen into the conversation as we dive into all of this and more.

Where to Listen or Watch

Listen on Apple Podcasts here: When Life is Hard, Season 6 Episode 1 of the Simple Doesn’t Mean Easy Podcast

Or listen here:

And watch here:

When Life is Hard

Other Articles & Resources You Might Enjoy:

Promises to Remember when a Loved One is Sick (article)

3 Resources that Comfort when Life is Tough (article)

Facing Chronic Illness, with Amber Benge (podcast)

Tips for Improving Your Health, at any age (podcast)

My 7-page Pantry Checklist, including supplies for DIY cleaners (free download)

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope. Romans 15:13

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

The post When Life is Hard (S6 E1) first appeared on Souly Rested.

Where to Listen or Watch

Listen on Apple Podcasts here: A healthier life with chronic illness

Or listen here:

And watch here:

;

A healthier life with chronic illness, with Amber Benge (S5, E10)

In this episode:

How Amber’s battle with chronic illness started when she was only 5 years old.

Lyme disease–an imitator disease

The Doctor Shuffle

What it means that the Lyme bacteria is shaped like a corkscrew

Description of bioenergetics and how it helped Amber finally diagnose her Lyme disease

The cumulative effect of chronic illness on your body

Making choices today that will help you feel better tomorrow

Herbalism vs. Homeopathy

Modern vs. Natural health solutions Seeing food as a part of healing

Why homeopathy recommends fermented food and drinks

The Herxheimer effect and what you should know about it

Remission via bioenergetics

Why you MUST advocate for yourself, even when treating chronic pain naturally

Tips for advocating for yourself with the medical experts you work with

Resources mentioned in this episode:

For tick testing and more information about Lyme disease: https://www.lymedisease.org/

To snag Michelle’s Master Class on DIY kombucha at less than HALF PRICE: https://soulyrested.com/kombucha/

For the best Soil Test Kit, (at a sweet discount with code SOULYRESTED): https://bit.ly/3MAslZI

Follow Guest:

on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gracewalkfarm/

on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@gracewalkfarm

Amber’s blog:https://gracewalkfarm.org/

Other Articles & Resources You Might Enjoy:

Lessons from an unconventional nutritionist

How to Use a Calendar to Improve your Health (podcast)

Lessons from an unconventional dentist

My 7-page Pantry Checklist (free download)

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Romans 12:1

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

The post A healthier life with chronic illness, with Amber Benge (S5, E10) first appeared on Souly Rested.

So I apologize.

My storytelling and cropping of details might make a simple little family farm seem glamorous.

It’s not.

Our homesteading journey has been full of mistakes…

The difficulties–most due to my own mess ups and inadequacies–have been tough.

There was the day many young, beautiful hens died in a matter of minutes, all because of my avoidable mistake.

Then there were the incubated eggs I completely messed up and lost.

There was the sweet barn cat we lost due to my ignorance.

And there are never-ending mistakes we make and projects we start that go unfinished with our 200-year old farmhouse.

I mean truly y’all I’ve never really felt “legit” at this homesteading gig.

Some of our homesteading days have been messy and scary…

Yes, homesteading is messy and hard and disorganized and even downright scary some days. Last Thursday was the scariest.

The day our stable burnt to the ground was the worst…

I had gone out to gather eggs and realized there was horrible smoke billowing up from the area of the stables. 

When I ran to the edge of our barn, where the ground dips down for a full view of the stables, I saw a stable engulfed in flames. The roof was nearly collapsed, I almost fell to the ground myself in despair. The thought of our two sweet cows trapped inside sucked the air out of my lungs.

Bill dashed past me to survey damage that I couldn’t bear to approach. He was more level-headed than I and gave me direction as I stood there, numb and bitter with worry. 

He yelled up to me to call 911. I had an odd sense of relief that there was something I could do. Before I reached the porch door, his voice bellowed and cracked up again, “The cows are alright!”

Scout and Selah, usually very curious and eager to greet any guests to the farm, kept their distance from all of us in the hours that followed. Hours of smoke and sirens and hoses and firefighters.

And now our field is a mess of twisted metal roofing and debris.

I’m so grateful for the weekend’s fresh snowfall to help me not focus on the ugliness quite so much.

We’ve lost more than a building…

The stable that has stood on our homestead for possibly a century is gone. The stable that housed more farm animals than I will know is gone. The stable that was once home to Flaxie Checker, cousin to Secretariat, many decades ago is gone. (I learned this fact from a neighbor who knew sweet Flaxie.) The stable that Kayla looked at in shambles many years ago and decided it had worth and could house a dairy cow or two is gone. The stable where Logan and Kayla spent a long hot Saturday, designing, hammering, and leveling an interior wall to home the little calf that we eagerly awaited is gone. The stable that became the birth place to a large precious litter of barn cats whose momma preferred bovine company to the barn is gone.

It’s gone. And charred mess remains. 

So no, I don’t mean to make simple living romantic, it’s poopy and crazy hard.

And I don’t know what clean up is going to look like in the days and weeks ahead, and I doubt we can keep our cows, which makes my heart ache, but I do know that God is good. And I am blessed to be on this daily adventure of life, even on days when despair sucks the air our of my lungs. Because “Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed [way worse than a stable fire, no?], yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken.” (Isaiah 54:10) 

But yet there is joy…

But the part of the day that I will never forget–the day that took our stable and left our cows homeless–is how it began. Habakkak.

Yes, Habakkak. A minor prophet of Israel. 2500 years ago. Not a place most days begin, right?

But exactly where this day needed to begin.

Kayla–my cow-whispering, Jesus-loving, gardener extraordinaire–was leading a Bible study of homeschool teens. Like she does every Thursday. And she was explaining why she loves the verses in Habakkak that talk about where our true joy needs to lie. She’s always loved them because she’s a farmer, in her core, since her toddler hands planted her first tomato plant. And Habakkak pointed out–in a very agrarian society mind you–that even when all crops fail and fields are barren he would have joy.

In an agrarian society, where crops and produce were inherent and vital, Habakkak says he will have joy when the trees no longer bud and the fruit no longer ripens. And, yes, Habakkak even says there can be joy with no cattle in the stalls.

Because his joy was founded in only one source–in his Lord alone.

I cried when I realized that possibly the very moment my lungs felt like they would not work and my knees were giving way under me because I was witnessing the total destruction of my sweet Kayla’s stable… the stable she saw worth in when no one else did… the stable she rebuilt… Possibly at that very moment she was reading these words:

Other Homesteading-related Reading & Podcasts:

Listen in to the Old Fashioned On Purpose podcast when I share why homesteading matters & why I initially had a difficult time with the transition from suburbia.

Check out a dozen mistakes we’ve made on our homestead and how you can avoid them.

Think you want to own a little family farm? Ask yourself these 12 questions.

Then there’s 8 Things Wanna-be Homesteaders Need to Know.

He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17

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Find out why SoulyRested was considered to be one of the Top 20 Must-Read Homesteading Blogs of 2018 and then one of the Top Homesteading Blogs of 2019 as well.

Glance at my Resource Page if you’d like to get a glimpse of other supplies I use for maple syrup making (as well as gardening, homeschooling, homesteading topics, nature journaling, and more).

Many readers often ask what camera I use to take the images you find here on SoulyRested. I love my Nikon; you can read more about my camera and even purchase your own here.

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

The post The Many Challenges of Homesteading first appeared on Souly Rested.

I’m thinking of those nouns–hope, peace, and joy–in the deep-seated, faith-filled way… the way that calm joy can settle down into your fiber but make no sense in your thoughts… the way that soothing peace can level out your racing heart and slowly end your tears but make no sense with what your eyes, or bank account, or aching heart tells you.

When you have nothing to give

Two Christmases ago was the only Christmas I have lived through that I had no pressents under the tree. And had no tree until hours before Christmas morning when I yanked a broken, pathetic artificial one from the recesses of the barn attic. One I had rescued from the dump years prior, thinking I would set it up on an outside back porch.

Two Christmases ago was the first Christmas I had lived through without a mom, and the loss was fresh and deep.

Two Christmases ago was my dad’s first Christmas in 55 years that he had lived through without his Queenie, as he tongue-in-cheek called my mom since long before I was born.

But we were together. We sang Silent Night elbow to elbow at our church’s candlelight service on Christmas Eve, and prayed that indeed our tears over loosing mom so suddenly to cancer would soon be silent. Then, back home on the couch in his slippers, Dad looked at me with shocked sadness in his handsome brown eyes when he realized, “I don’t have any presents for anyone.” Of course none of us had any gifts for anyone. We had just lived through the most difficult 6 weeks we’d ever navigated.

Dad’s grief over being empty-handed was something I decided I could surely rectify. I rummaged through closets desperate for something, anything, he could give to his 4 granddaughters. I dug out 4 lip glosses and 4 gift bags from odd corners, and my Dad played Santa with great pleasure. When he presented each gift to each granddaughter on Christmas morning, you would have thought he had wrapped up gold jewelry or green-monster-seating tickets to Fenway. Having something to give brought him sincere joy. Watching him slowly place his meager gifts under the crooked tiny (okay I’ll just admit it… ugly) tree and face me with a nod and sly smile brought out my dimples and my tears simultaneously.

Along with Dad’s humble offerings, a sweet neighbor had dropped off small, wrapped pairs of cozy socks for each of us. So with moist lips and warm toes, we spent the afternoon creating a gingerbread farm the likes of which will never be repeated.

The sun began to lower in her course across the Christmas sky. And I found myself wishing the morning that I had dreaded–the morning that I thought would be depleted of any reason to smile–could linger because, to my shock, it was filled with deep-seated hope and peace.

Dad turned to me and said, with a little shock but no hesitation, “It was my most joyful Christmas I ever had.” Dad felt it too. That calm joy can settle down into your fiber but make no sense in your thoughts. A deep-seated joy that is independent of circumstances.

When you feel so alone

Then the next Christmas was the first one I lived through without my Daddy. But that loss had settled in for almost a year by the time Christmas arrived. Dad went to be with his Queenie only days after his most joyful Christmas ever–our gingerbread Christmas–one month after Mom died, and, much more importantly he would want me to explain, he went to be with his gracious God who had saved a wretch like himself and been oh-so-good to him.

Just weeks before, on the oncology floor of the hospital near my childhood home, I sat holding mom’s thin hands and massaging her legs that no longer agreed to hold her weight. Only weeks later, I was shivering in a fluorescent-lit, sterile ER room, after a long ambulance ride, in a New Year’s Eve blizzard. The long dark drive that night from my New England farmhouse, which had become Dad’s home too, ended with me standing over Dad’s tired, limp body. I kissed his cool forehead and said goodbye to the man who still had stories he never told me and songs he never sang me. He was already with his Savior, and I was left standing there in a cold hospital in a pool of pain and loneliness.

When you feel helpless

As I tried to define my days after two sudden losses, I had reason to rejoice when my daughter saw an end in sight to years’ worth of almost-unbearable chronic pain. Just a few months after sitting with Mom as she fought cancer with every breath, I was sitting in a hospital room with Jordyn after her successful spinal fusion. We worked through recovery and physical therapy and were just starting to glimpse a true reason for hope, which was the point when I wrote this article. But then the lowest point of my life crept in.

Just as snow was melting and spring buds were filling the horizon with faint colors, Jordyn started screaming with pain that doctors seemed unable to define.

Then they put a name to her agony–Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, from surgical nerve damage–and she and I both entered a long, dark night that stretched from spring into summer.

I didn’t notice that maple sap supplies needed to be cleaned, garden seedlings tended to, and rows of vegetables planted.

Jordyn was experiencing pain that words can’t define.

I was experiencing the hopelessness of a mother who can call experts around the globe, yet have no way to offer her daughter any relief. I make notes, read medical journals, insisted on personally speaking with head surgeons, and had pharmacists on speed dial, all while living in the ICU with no sleep, no showers, and little food, yet I could do nothing.

When you don’t know if night will end

It was a long, dreadful, deeply dark night that stretched across two seasons and ended with a 10-day clinical trial 400 miles from home. The trial offered Jordyn some relief and the ability to return to a life outside of an ICU. Her life will never be pain-free, and college, which she had worked toward so eagerly for so long, is now a severe struggle. If you’d like to know more about Jordyn’s battle with an uncommon neurological syndrome, you can read a little more on her Go Fund Me page.

When life is painfully raw

That Christmas… last Christmas… I was a different person. I welcomed the Advent Season as a woman who had seen how brutally, painfully raw life can be and who also had seen and felt the raw sovereignty and love of God co-existing with the dark pain.

That was the point that I sat down and wrote the little Advent ebook that is available in my Subscriber Library (download my 7-pg pantry checklist there as well): Hope, Peace, and Joy, Even in the Midst of Tears.

This Christmas? I was overjoyed to welcome this Advent Season.

The first day of Advent, I attended an elaborate, gorgeous Christmas Gala. The vaulted-ceiling sanctuary was filled with the sounds of the orchestra and the melodious voices of 5 college choirs.

The next night I had the joy of decorating our own simple, tired church with my teen daughters. We put up a diminutive tree and simple wreaths that we accented with pinecones, red berries, and burlap for ribbon. The church bells tolled 7, then 8, and all the while our humble efforts were serenaded by Christmas iTunes, stories, and giggles.

Both evenings were a perfect way to usher in the Advent season, one reminding me of God’s majesty and the other of the humbleness of the first Christmas and the importance of quiet moments, free of clutter, with the ones who are imprinted on my heart.

I truly wish glimpses of both for you this Christmas season–glimpses of the indescribable majesty of a God who goes to unimaginable extremes to build a personal relationship with you. And glimpses of a God who wants to be in the small, simple moments that define your day and your life.

Stop over on my winter-themed pinterest board for lots more winter-themed reading.

Take a second to stop over in my Subscriber Library and download the advent ebook.

Not a subscriber? It’s easy peasy to access not only my little book Hope, Peace, and Joy, Even in the Midst of Tears, but all my ebooks and resources, by signing up right here (and snag my 7-pg Pantry Checklist too). I truly hope it is a blessing to you this holiday season.

When you have nothing to give…

when you feel all alone…

when you feel helpless…

when you don’t know if night will end…

and when life is simply and totally painfully RAW…

Please, friend, know that you are not alone. Know that you are loved with an undefinable, indescribable love. I can’t tell you the “why” for your pain. Life is so painful and hard. It always will be, on this side of heaven. But it offers deep, simple joys as well.

I can assure you that I’ve been at the bottom of that black, dark, bitterly lonely hole of helplessness and sheer “alone.” And even there, there was a glimmer of hope, peace, and joy.

This post is the last in my 4-part Grief Series. I wrote about the stages of grief, resources that comforted me in my grief, and questions I wished I had asked.

Other holiday-themed articles:

Reflections on why nativity scenes should include muddy cows,

Christmas “riches” to a homesteader,

How to make a gingerbread farm, and

How we decorate our old farmhouse with all-natural choices.

For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him. 2 Chronicles 16:9

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted. Psalm 34:18

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Glance at my Resource Page if you’d like to get a glimpse of all the supplies I use and recommend for everything from gardening, to homeschooling, to chicken care, to nature journaling, to maple syrup making.

Many readers often ask what camera I use to take the images you find here on SoulyRested. I love my Nikon; you can read more about my camera and even purchase your own here.

And hop over here to find out why SoulyRested was considered to be one of the Top 20 Must-Read Homesteading Blogs of 2018.

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

And please follow along!

Please take a second to follow along here on SoulyRested to catch up on a few of my memorable mishaps, discover fascinating things about my centuries-old farmhouse, glean a little parenting/homeschooling insight from this momma who’s been failing at the effort for almost 2 decades, or enjoy the inside scoop on the secrets other legit homesteaders might not tell you.

I hope my focus always encourages you, because simple joys require hard work. Let’s face it, we all need all the encouragement we can get! As soon as you subscribe (in the box at the end of this post), you’ll have immediate access to my Resource Library, which includes my FREE EBOOKs, and amazing recipes for things like whoopie pie cookies, maple sap switchel, and my grandmom’s perfect pie crust.

If you already ARE a subscriber, just hop over to the Resource Library here and enter your personal password. (If you don’t remember your password, no fear, we always include a personalized reminder in every Thursday email, “Hard Work, Simple Joys.”)

And have you tried my a-MAAHZ-ing Maple Sugar Cookie recipe that’s in my Resource Library? You won’t find this deliciousness anywhere else and what a perfect holiday treat! 

The post Surviving the holidays when you’re burdened with grief or depression first appeared on Souly Rested.

In high school, Gina drove a used, red Pulsar that smelled of cigars and cherry car freshener–the first being remnants of the previous owner’s addiction and the second being G’s attempt at overriding said remnant. The result was a cherry cigar odor that wound up growing on us. Plus, who cares about the smell when the seats recline flat, allowing you to hide in the school parking lot when you’re supposed to be in study hall? (Did I just admit that?)

Keep reading, if you can stomach the 80s hair and don’t mind one more confession…

Friends… sometimes seem like they’re from the other side of a wide chasm

She had sauntered into my 7th grade classroom late in the morning one October day. I was a native Delawarean who thought lower Delaware (we called it “slower Delaware”) was a long drive. Her being from Baltimore meant she was from the other side of a wide chasm. Never mind it was only the Fort McHenry Tunnel. She was foreign. (And I didn’t even know then that she had been, literally, “made in China,” where her parents where missionaries.) But she quickly taught me that being a friend doesn’t mean being like each other, but liking each other for who you are, even in the awkward years of big hair, braces, and pimples.

… A friend loves at all times. Proverbs 17:17

Friends… the best ones are always recognizable

I don’t always recognize those 17-year-old giddy girls trapped behind our wrinkles and gray hairs today.

Those 17 year olds could have never handled knowing the grief they each had ahead of them, but they sure would have loved to have known how they’d hold each others hands, pray for each other continually, and stand beside each other–with meals or giant portions of Toblerone in hand when needed.

If you could use a little encouragement in dealing with grief, you could start with this post.

If you’d like to know what brought a born-and-bred mid-atlantic suburban girl to a New England homesteading adventure, I wrote about our family’s move here.

And if you just need a chocolate fix, well you’ll love this recipe for Whoopie Pie Cookies. (I mean, who wouldn’t?)

What I do recognize in her, always, are the traits for the bestest friend a woman could have.

Sure we passed notes in class and, well, hid in her Pulsar, but when a little nudge to do the right thing wasn’t enough, we would each make sure to shove the other in the right direction.

… One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor. But the way of the wicked leads them astray. Proverbs 12:26

Friends… sometimes come close to parting ways

As good as we were for each other, we almost parted ways over America’s Favorite pastime. You see, in my house, in 1983, there was no team superior to the Phillies. But she blatantly routed for the Orioles that World Series. The team that swept my beloved Rose. Schmidt. And McGraw. I didn’t like it one bit, but decided to just not talk baseball, so we could remain friends.

… Do not make friends with a hot-tempered person, do not associate with one easily angered, or you may learn their ways and get yourself ensnared. Proverbs 22:24-25

Years later her dad took us to a game at the old Oriole park. It was free umbrella day, and I actually decided to keep the umbrella. In ’92 we finally put all baseball disagreements aside and traversed side-by-side in the Opening Day Parade for the Yard. We even met a few familiar faces.

Friends… teach us things

Not only did she introduce me to Ripken, over the years she has taught me that lobster claws make fine earrings, there is truly no better chocolate in the world than Toblerone, sometimes the best things ARE made in China, and, most importantly–>

Friendship should always improve who you are. If it doesn’t, you’re not doing it right.

… Iron sharpens iron, and one [friend] sharpens another. Proverbs 27:17 

Friends… the one thing you absolutely have to know

So that’s it really. You don’t have to play hide-in-seek in Pulsars (which is good, cause geez do any still exist?) or meet some famous major league players together (but that would be a fun bonus, especially if free umbrellas are involved). You just have to make sure you’re always improving each other. Enough said.

Love you, G. Have a wonderful 29th birthday. For the 20th time.

Around the homestead this week

We’re settling back into the steady rhythms of the homestead, now that we’ve been home from our 3-week road trip for over a week. We’ve almost caught up on laundry. Who am I kidding? That day will never come. But that’s okay. I truly didn’t realize how much I missed hanging out the clothes while we were traveling. There’s something relaxing about all the mundane, even old-fashioned things we do around here. Not easy… we don’t seem to ever choose the easy way… but relaxing nonetheless.

My giant 50-pound bag of let’s-see-if-Michelle-can-do-this arrived in the mail today! (Yes, my poor mail carrier pulls up in his orange jeep and plops the heaviest box I’ve ever made him carry right there on my front porch.) That’s right folks, I’m gonna try to mill our own flour. Boy I hope this works. If not, I still have a gorgeous kitchen accessory, no? (Go here if you’d like to know more about this NutriMill Harvest Grain Mill that I’m in love with.)

Bill checked in on our bees today and gave them their winter food. In my last Tuesday Live, over on facebook, I mentioned he was mixing up something yummy for the hives and many of you asked for the recipe. I’ll have to post that soon.

Bixby’s skunk oder is still lingering–especially if he gets wet at all… even just lapping up some water will do it. But it’s definitely improving, thanks to all the great pointers I shared with you in this post last month. But the biggest excitement was the fact that all four prodigal cats returned to the homestead this week! Watch the two fb lives below if you’d like “in” on the story. It’s a good one.

And to celebrate, RawPaws is sponsoring a fun contest over on my fb page. So make sure you join in the party! Go here to check it out and you may win $10 to spend on your favorite furry friend.

 

Glance at my Resource Page if you’d like to get a glimpse of all the supplies I use and recommend for everything from gardening, to homeschooling, to chicken care, to nature journaling, to maple syrup making.

And hop over here to find out why SoulyRested was considered to be one of the Top 20 Must-Read Homesteading Blogs of 2018.

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

If you already ARE a subscriber, just hop over to the Resource Library here and enter your personal password. (If you don’t remember your password, no fear, we always include a personalized reminder in every Thursday email, “Hard Work, Simple Joys.”)

The post The single most important thing to do, as a friend first appeared on Souly Rested.

“Mom, we have to have a party, invite everyone we know, and celebrate.”

When my 19-year-old brave fighter of a daughter told me this about the upcoming 1-year anniversary of her spinal fusion surgery, I didn’t hesitate. In fact, I’ve never been so quick to acquiesce to a big shindig.

I’m not big on crowded gatherings when I don’t get to really sit and talk to anyone. I’d much rather have one family over for lunch on Sunday afternoon than a loud, house-bulging crowd that has to spill out onto the front porch of our small, old farmhouse on Friday night.

Of course this Friday-night party was an exception.

You see, my daughter had endured excruciating pain for years. I shared a little here, years ago, about verses that helped me as a mom watching my daughter endure so much chronic pain and heartache and how to see beauty in sorrow. Then, a year ago, she went into an 8-hour surgery that replaced her damaged disc with an artificial plastic one and a few titanium screws. She faced a difficult recovery and physical therapy, which she worked through eagerly. Then came the burning, debilitating, seemingly never ending pain she endured when we realized she was suffering from a rare neurological syndrome as a result of nerve damage from her surgery. If she saw blessings to celebrate after her last year, we were absolutely going to celebrate.

She loves succulents. So when I started to brainstorm what kind of little party favors we could give all the guests, the first thought was succulents.

This post contains affiliate links.

But we live rurally. Ten miles to the nearest traffic light. Twenty-five minutes to town. And we live in New England. Nurseries don’t even open for the short summer season until close to Memorial Day. It was March.

I was shocked when we googled it and found a company that ships succulents across the country—from California—in 2 days FOR FREE. (And the packaging is totally top-notch wonderful. Watch this little fb live video to see the amazing packaging peanuts… you won’t believe this!)

And these little plants were drop dead gorgeous!

Click the picture above or go here to see my youtube video unboxing and planting a few of these beauties, where I explain how to plant succulents and care for them.

It was ultra easy to put them all together; we literally plopped them out of the plastic pot and into the adorable terra cotta ones I ordered (also from Mountain Crest Gardens).

We wanted the plants to promote the theme of our party, so we started thinking of some verses. We needed one that summed up our joy in our assurance that no matter how dark, painful, and seemingly never-ending Jordyn’s horrible battle with pain had been, we knew we could trust in God’s goodness and sovereignty.

In the end, in the midst of months of agony, we had assurance that the pain–which was, on its worst days, an 11 on a scale of 1-10–was “light” compared to the eternal glory we will someday experience as children of God.

It didn’t take us long to settle on II Corinthians 4:17… “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” But we needed to sum up that sentiment on a teeny tiny flag. We settled on “Today’s Problems = Tomorrow’s Growth.”

We printed out the papers, covered the back of the pages in washi tape (like this), used a straight edge cutter (like this one) to divide them and finished off the flags by cutting a small “v” in the end of each and using a mini, 1/16″ round hand punch (like this one) to make two holes that we could feed tooth picks through.

We also gathered lots of pictures of Jordyn’s last year and pulled together a few nice displays.

Once we ordered the succulents, my thoughts turned to a gift. I wanted to do something to commemorate her joy after so much sorrow. And I wanted it to be something she’d have for a life time. I had no trouble knowing an exact moment that I wanted to memorialize.

The moment I wanted to commemorate was a few minutes her and I shared alone in her room in the ICU. A few minutes that will give me a lifetime of peace and joy when I recall the warm tears that soaked my cheeks as her and I sang a few choruses together of a song she had asked me to play on my laptop just as the sun was starting to turn the sky beautiful shades of crimson and purple. That song has since become my favorite song of all time and that moment will forever be etched on my heart. (The song was Sovereign Over Us. You can hear it here, if you would like. Another day I’ll share a separate post, just about that moment. But today’s post is about our celebration.)

I knew I wanted to memorialize a line from that song.

So we made a base for the plaque with pallet pieces, and I started laying out how I wanted to paint the lettering. I think it turned out pretty well, and it was nice to have on display for her celebration.

When I stood back and looked at these beautiful plants I realized what amazing favors they’d make for so many occasions…

Anniversary

Teen or adult Birthday

Graduation party

Community party

4th of July or Memorial Day party

And the wonderful little flags you could make for each occasion!

Wedding: Let love grow; Grow old with me, the best is yet to be; Alone we were static, together we grow beautifully.

Anniversary: Growth, Laughter & 40 years of “Happily Ever After.”; Together 50 beautiful years, and still growing; 35 years & still growing strong.

Birthday: Thank you for helping me grow.

Graduation: “Oh the places you’ll GROW;” A sweet ending to a new beginning of growth; Commit. Plan. Grow. Proverbs 16:3; Still growing in knowledge… Colossians 1:10; The growth (& the tassel) was worth the hassle;

Oh, and if you have a wedding in your near future, I also just stumbled upon this fun fact I have to share… Amazon offers a wedding registry. How perfect is that?

So, yeah, our old farmhouse held a wonderful celebration this spring, but if you wanna know some of  the bitter truths (and joys) of owning an old farmhouse? I wrote about those here.

Wanna know the 6 reasons I think succulents are the the best plants EVER? I wrote about that here.

Wanna know where you can unearth some rustic farmhouse treasures of your own? You will LOVE this site I just discovered–Antique Farmhouse.I’m already addicted.

After getting the plants, plaque, and picture display ready, we made a cake and yummy apple cider over the fire in our big old Rumford fireplace, strung lots of sparkly lights on the front porch of our farmhouse, and sat back with lots of friends and family to celebrate.

We celebrated that blessings indeed abound even amidst sorrow.

We celebrated that He is always with us–even in the fire and the flood.

We celebrated that “Today’s problems = tomorrow’s growth.”

And I totally loved everything about this big shindig.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. II Corinthians 4:17

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Many readers often ask what camera I use to take the images you find here on SoulyRested. I love my Nikon; you can read more about my camera on my Resources page and even purchase your own here.

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The post The perfect party favor for our farmhouse celebration first appeared on Souly Rested.

Scroll to the end for my 4 tips for last-minute Easter baskets.

And don’t miss my simple tips for a BIG Easter egg hunt on a TINY budget. 

What’s so special about Easter?

Easter is new life. Literally, Easter is about new life. Easter reminds me every year to begin again. Easter reminds me that no matter how many failures I was involved in this year, or how many deep pains I wallowed in on many dark nights… life is renewed. Spring has returned, chicks are hatching in the incubator, grass is again visible for the first time since our first December snow day, and Christ is alive!

(But, yes, it did sneak up on me. Scroll to the end for 4 simple tips for last-minute Easter baskets.)

What’s so special about this Easter?

This Easter is the first one I’ve celebrated since my daughter’s spinal fusion complications. Her surgery ushered in a set of fears and pains uglier than any I’ve had to hold hands with. I held hands with her ear-piercing pain for a month’s worth of dark evenings. I held hands with her tear-soaked pain when, at some moments, it was her and I fighting against a hospital full of “experts.”

We clung to Christ. We found a clinical trial. Her neurological pathways eventually calmed.

And now it is Easter again. A life worth living is renewed. A spring worth celebrating has returned, chicks who will offer us nutritious eggs when the summer begins to wane are in the incubator, grass that houses grub for our birds and grass that will grow tall and feed our cows is again visible for the first time since our first December snow day, and indeed, my friends, with every fiber of my being I am assured that Christ is alive!

If you would like to celebrate Easter by dyeing some eggs, you’ll love these all-natural egg dyes that my family enjoys.

If you’ve never made Resurrection Cookies on the eve of Easter, I highly recommend starting this tradition today!

 I just answered the phone.

But this Easter holds another significance for me. Two years ago on April 1st, around 1:00 on that Friday afternoon, I just answered the phone. I stood on the wide plank floors, in my sock feet, half way between my living room couch and my kitchen table, and listened to my mom’s voice.

The words she spoke ushered in a new era of my life. Standing there in my cable sweater and messy bun, surveying the lunch dishes I needed to clean up, I had no idea that the next words I heard would be a conversation I would never forget, one that would open a floodgate of tears, and one that, as hard as it was, I would wish two years later I could hold just one more time.

With each word she uttered after “cancer” my lungs continued to deflate and I found myself unsure if I could refill them.

I wrote about mom’s phone call, on that chilly Friday afternoon, and how God had prepared me.

And while I have yet to write about the heartbreaking summer I spent holding my daughter’s hand through Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, I did write a little when she began her battle against chronic pain and I shared the verses that I clung to for hope at that time. And I shared on this post on instagram.

It’s been two years after Mom’s call—the call that announced the unwanted intrusion of cancer into my life.

Just weeks after mom’s death, I found myself in an ambulance, on a dark icy New Years Eve, again having trouble forcing my lungs to work because my heart knew I was going to have to say goodbye to my Daddy too.

After two years of grief, sadness, confusion, and pain, it’s time to celebrate my favorite holiday again. And I, indeed, have much to celebrate.

Now it is Easter again. A life worth living is renewed. A spring worth celebrating has returned, chicks who will offer us nutritious eggs when the summer begins to wane are in the incubator, grass that houses grub for our birds and grass that will grow tall and feed our cows is again visible for the first time since our initial December snow day, and indeed, my friends, with every fiber of my being I am assured that Christ is alive!

I step into Easter with a new understanding this year. You see, not only is He alive, but He has declared me as “qualified.” He has declared me as a co-heir to all His father’s goodness.

What’s it mean to be “qualifed”?

I’ve been forced to think about estate things after Dad passed away, leaving me just 1 brief month… just 30 oh-so-short days after Mom spent her last moments with me… and there I was having to make so many calls. Yet not one lawyer or investor or insurance agent would talk to me. I was one of Charles and Irene’s children. I could tell you stories of their youth. I could describe their favorite flowers. And I could tell you where they bought their orange juice for the past 5 years. Yes, I knew them, and loved them, as much as anyone could. But I wasn’t “qualified” to talk about the sale of their home or even to purchase their tombstones without a legal piece of paper drawn up and signed in some cold, unfamiliar lawyer’s office. A piece of paper that said only one child was “qualified.”

I didn’t have that signed document that qualified me. I wasn’t the executor of their estate.

I’ve been drowning in “unqualifed”… with no answers and no resolution after so long… because I’m not “qualified”…

But all of my experiences with estates and insurance policies and tombstones sit in drastic opposition to the reality that Easter makes so clear. You see as a a child of God’s, I am qualified to receive a full inheritance. I can’t fathom the glory of my heavenly Father. I don’t understand how His sovereignty “works.” I can’t grasp the depth of the trinity or the virgin birth. I don’t understand the immensity of His grace. Or why He would lavish it on me. But yet, despite all that I don’t understand about Him, despite how little I actually know Him, I need no other justification, no paper, no signature, no official meeting, no court date. No, I am “qualified to share in the inheritance.”

Why? Because He has qualified me.

It’s that simple.

When I try to understand this reality in comparison to my earthly experiences of an estate and my inability to qualify for what is rightfully mine, I am shocked and even more grateful that I have been qualified, of no doing of my own, for so much that is not rightfully mine.

Now it is Easter again. And Christ has made my life worth living. He has gifted us with spring as a reminder that He not only is alive but has qualified us to join in His wonderful inheritance. The slight warmth in the sun’s rays? The chicks that are hatching? A well-fed, freckle-nosed calf? I just see them as a tiny downpayment of my inheritance.

Eternity as a child of God? Co-heir with Jesus? That’s an inheritance I can’t even get my head around. But it’s mine. Guaranteed. Without any legal paperwork to draw up or attorneys to call. The baby chicks and the new grass for Scout and Selah to dine on, they’re just sweet little reminders of the inheritance that is to come.

If you too are considering hatching chicks, make sure you never do this when hatching chicks. I learned that hard way last spring.

Another guarantee of Easter?

No matter how old my daughters are, they will always want to be greeted with an Easter basket on Easter morning. But as they’ve gotten older, I find I’m less prepared for Easter. This year was no exception. We increased our syrup production by quadrupling our number of taps this year, so I’m collecting sap and boiling and bottling syrup into the wee hours of the morning.

Needless to say, Easter snuck up on me and here I am, a day before, and realize I have to pull together some Easter baskets.

3 Simple Tips for Last-Minute Easter Baskets

If you too need to put together a few baskets quickly, here are some pointers to easy Easter basket assembly:

1. If you don’t have purchased grass for your baskets, it’s easy to make your own! Just run leftover gift wrap or colored paper scraps through your paper shredder. Crinkle the strips and fill your baskets!
2. If you’re short on candy, grab a disposable pastry bag–or just use a sandwich bag even–fill it with orange jelly beans, tie it closed with green ribbon, and you have an adorable jelly bean carrot.
3. And finally, think outside the box (or the basket). Consider something other than candy, such as a tickets to see a movie together, a gift card to their favorite ice cream shop, silly putty (I mean, really, who–at any age–doesn’t like silly putty?), bouncy balls, gardening supplies, trail mix, perfumes, lotions, sunglasses, socks, and card games.

My Simple Tips for Organizing an Easter egg hunt?

If possible, stock up on eggs and small prizes the year before, at the after-Easter clearance sales.

Always invest in the better-quality eggs, unless you enjoy repackaging the eggs that fall open pre-egg-hunt, again and again.

Be creative with lots of non-candy egg stuffing treasures. Consider these small items:

1. erasers,
2. mini bubbles,
3. small balloons,
4. rings (for girls),
5. small hair accessories (for girls),
6. stickers, tattoos, even nickels.

Consider having a prize table and stuffing many eggs with tickets, allowing the child to choose one item off the prize table for each ticket.

Watch here for my quick and simple tips on organizing a BIG Easter egg hunt on a TINY budget.–>

Other articles you’ll enjoy:

All-Natural Easter Egg Dyes

More Natural Egg Dyes

Resurrection Cookies Recipe

“Thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” Colossians 1: 12-14

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Find out why SoulyRested was considered to be one of the Top 20 Must-Read Homesteading Blogs of 2018 and then one of the Top Homesteading Blogs of 2019 as well.

Glance at my Resource Page if you’d like to get a glimpse of other supplies I use for maple syrup making (as well as gardening, homeschooling, homesteading topics, nature journaling, and more).

Many readers often ask what camera I use to take the images you find here on SoulyRested. I love my Nikon; you can read more about my camera and even purchase your own here.

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

And please follow along!

Please take a second to follow along here on SoulyRested to catch up on a few of my memorable mishaps, discover fascinating things about my centuries-old farmhouse, glean a little parenting/homeschooling insight from this momma who’s been failing at the effort for almost 2 decades, or enjoy the inside scoop on the secrets other legit homesteaders might not tell you.

And have you tried my a-MAAHZ-ing Maple Sugar Cookie recipe that’s in my Resource Library? You won’t find this deliciousness anywhere else… until Sweet Maple is in print this fall.

The post Why I’m feeling very “qualified” this Easter, even though I’m not prepared first appeared on Souly Rested.

A Cherished Childhood Tradition

We released the ceramic animals from their blocks of styrofoam and arranged them under a rustic wooden stable. She had helped me with this coveted chore–unboxing the nativity scene–every December that she remembers. She was aiding me over a decade ago, when her sweet, pudgy fingers gave me no assurance that a sheep wouldn’t be dropped or a shepherd’s staff broken. Small, unsteady hands handling them through the years resulted in today’s precariously super-glued donkey legs and chipped Wise Men urns.

This nativity scene has been a cherished part of every one of her childhood Christmases (even those she can’t remember); she’s adored the characters, handled the animals, and cried over pieces when her eagerness led to their brokenness. 

Her words would have caught me off guard, except, I had already been thinking the same thing.

“Ya know what? It’s all wrong.”

With the Eyes of a Homesteader

This was the first time we had peeled off the styrofoam lid from the painted, ceramic Mary and Joseph since our family had become newbie homesteaders.

This was the first time she had pulled out the crude stable from its box since she had herself finished building the walls of her own stable.

This was the first time she released the cow from this taped-up foam fort since she herself had brought home her own cow.

And things weren’t quite right. We looked at our nativity scene with new eyes. With a homesteader’s eyes. With a farmer’s eyes. What’s wrong with the nativity scene? We realized our little nativity scene is a romanticized, sugar-coated depiction of a humble, dirty, smelly story.

What’s Wrong with the Nativity Scene?

Anyone who has spent even a little bit of time in a barn knows the hay that fills the manger is the same hay the birds perch in and, yes, poop in.

What’s wrong with the nativity scene? Well, anyone who knows a manger knows it’s not worthy of a newborn baby’s bed. It’s the food trough. Filled with, well, poopie hay.

Anyone who knows a farm, knows a nativity scene doesn’t include all of the common farm animals, like hens, who love to walk around in garbage (ours adore our compost pile), then roost up on a food trough and, well, poop.

Then there are the farm animals that are included in most nativity scenes, you know, the sweet, groomed sheep, donkey, and cows. We don’t have a lot of time to groom our farm animals, and Scout, our cow, loves to be dirty. I’m guessing bovines in ancient Bethlehem wouldn’t look as good as Scout, not alone as pristine as the ones in our nativity scene.

This year, why not make a gingerbread FARM with the kids and grandkids?

A Spiffy Shepherd?

Our ceramic shepherd adds to the deception. He looks like he checked into the Bethlehem Holiday Inn to spruce himself up in preparation for meeting the child king. He definitely doesn’t look like he just came in from the fields. Around our homestead, we wear a lot of muddy boots, and we don’t come in from the pasture looking too spiffy or smelling so great.

This post contains affiliate links. Go here to read the full (ultra fun) legal disclosure about that.

Wearing White?

Our nativity’s Mary is wearing white. And it’s, well, white. Nothing is actually white on our farm. And she and Joseph look so calm. (And did I mention clean?) Never mind that they just traveled 5 days, expecting a baby any minute, and knowing that their trip would lead to higher taxes next year. (Caesar would never call for registration unless he had plans to raise taxes.)

A Meager Salary and Higher Taxes

On that long trip, Mary probably thought long and hard about how Joseph’s meager carpenter salary would bring home less money next year. Yep, more mouths to feed and less money in their pockets. And never mind that when they arrived in their own home town, the town where Joseph grew up, none of their family offered them a mattress to sleep on, because Mary has disgraced the family name with her seeming promiscuity, getting pregnant before saying “I do.”

So Mary’s dress dragged in the dust, hanging from the back of the diminutive donkey, for an uncomfortable 5-day trip. All the while, her head filled with worries over rising taxes, judging family members, and the looming labor. I assume not one of Joseph’s sisters offered to do Mary’s laundry, none of his aunts loaned Mary a change of clothes, and yet my nativity Mary’s white is bleached alabaster and her smile is a scrubbed-clean peaceful.

If you’d like to simplify your Christmas decorations (and make them for free!) be sure to read this.

After the holidays are over, consider these 9 things to do on a long winter evening.

And if you’re looking for a nativity scene, I couldn’t find one with dirty cows (I tried), but I do love this simple, elegant nativity scene. Then there’s this one… nothing simple about it really, but I’m in love with the stable. (affiliate links) Check out the links below for others I adore.

A Humble, Dirty Story

What’s wrong with the nativity scene? Manger scenes are glorified pictures of what was, in reality, a humble, dirty, smelly story. Truly, nothing is more humbling than thoughts of an immense, inconceivable God, who knew no barriers of time or space, yet voluntarily contained Himself in a frail human body and left the perfectness of heaven to live in the smelliness of a sinful, fallen world, where He was greeted, at birth, by an adversary eager to devour Him. And he did it all so He could face a horrible death and take the punishment for our sins.

No it’s not a pretty story. It’s smelly and messy.

An Ugly Character From Revelation

So beside our pristinely clean nativity cow, we added a unique character. One that isn’t included in any nativity scene, but I personally think it should be. One that reminds us not of Luke, but of Revelation. (Revelation 12:3-4 to be exact.) We added an ugly dragon.

Our Nativities Need Some Ugliness

Yes, I think in every nativity scene, the cow should be muddy, Mary should be wearing a dirty dress and a worrisome look, baby Jesus’s manger should look more like an unclean food trough, and an ugly red dragon should be perched at the feet of the baby. Maybe those few realistic additions would remind us that it was an ugly, messy story–this story of our salvation from our sins.

Mind you, I’m just a newbie homesteader, and I’m no expert in animal husbandry, not alone red dragon proficiency. (I can tell you that the dragon represented Satan, who was desiring to devour Christ at his birth.) But I do know how this story will end. We actually have known that from the beginning. (Genesis 3:15)

Looking for a Red Dragon of your own?

If you’d like to add a reminder to your own nativity scene that the whole story–this story of God saving his people from their sins–is a dirty, difficult, humbling story, maybe you’d like to add a red dragon to your nativity scene.

I never could find one with 7 heads or 10 horns, like the dragon John described in Reveleation, but this red dragon right here is the one I purchased. It’s about 6″ from ugly pointed nose to vicious pointed tail tip. But I also found these other two on Amazon that are roughly the same size, if you’d like to go red dragon shopping. This red dragon and this one here would both be perfect additions to any creche in my humble opinion.

Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. Luke 2:11

Please follow along!

Please take a second to follow along here on SoulyRested to catch up on a few of my memorable mishaps, discover fascinating things about my centuries-old farmhouse, glean a little parenting/homeschooling insight from this momma who’s been failing at the effort for almost 2 decades, or enjoy the inside scoop on the secrets other legit homesteaders might not tell you.

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Merry Christmas

I hope that you have time to slow down and savor the everyday joys this holiday season, I pray that you personally know the sovereign savior who voluntarily contained Himself in a frail human body that first Christmas morning because he loves you, and I sincerely wish you a truly blessed, very merry Christmas.

I hope you have true Christmas Riches this holiday season.

The post Nativity scenes need muddy cows and red dragons first appeared on Souly Rested.

I’ve never had so much fun anticipating Christmas. And I haven’t been shopping or wrapped one present. We haven’t even picked out our tree yet.

Today I’m sharing six simple ways we’ve decorated our old farmhouse this Christmas without spending one dime or requiring one ounce of Martha-Stewart-ish abilities There’s even a video of me stapling tree bark. Yep.

Investing in Simple Holiday Joys

Instead of the typical spreading ourselves thin, my two teen daughters and I have invested ourselves into making simple, natural decorations together. Just a little at a time. In the process, we’ve been investing in each other.

That last investment has been too sparse within our family this year. The reasons why we’re so eager to experience simple holiday joys every day this month?

They’re ugly. Cancer. Loss. Pain.

Those are the reasons my family is eagerly embracing simple holiday joys this year. You see, this time last year I was preparing for my mom’s funeral, having just lost her to an aggressive evil called “cancer.” Within a month I was planning my dad’s funeral. His loss was even more sudden and colossal for me. Then a precious daughter had spinal fusion surgery and suffered, and is still suffering, devastating results from that surgery.

No, we didn’t have any decorations last year; we barely even noticed the holiday last winter.

We did one thing very well last Christmas. In fact, we’ll be building another gingerbread farm this Christmas.

When Simple Holiday Joys are More Precious

If I’m honest, I’ll admit that all of the seasons since have been blurred. I barely noticed my last 12 months. But our decorations in this new season of hope are helping me regain a focus. A perspective. A reminder of true joy. Unto us a child is born! One who will right wrong and defeat the vilest of murderers and the father of lies. (John 8:44) One who will wipe my tears and quiet me with his love and sweet singing. (Revelation 21:4 and Zephaniah 3:17) There is true reason to celebrate!

After big loss and deep pain, simple joys are more precious.

I wrote about when mom was told she was going to have to battle cancer, loosing Mom to cancer and Dad to a broken heart, the 4 stages of grief, and comforting resources. If you too are facing severe grief and loss, it is my sincere hope that my words there will offer comfort and a literary hug.

I won’t claim that any of our decorating ideas are overly original. Well, maybe stapling tree bark into rings is a little original (or weird). And they sure aren’t complicated. But they also aren’t “easy” by today’s standards, when everyone wants to pop open a pre-lit tree, find an outlet, and be done.

Kayla’s first idea, for example, consisted of grabbing buckets, jars, and shovels and scouring the woods for miniature Charlie Brown trees.

Yes, as I always say, simple joys require hard work. But this work is oh-so-good–this work of being elbow-to-elbow with my teens, gathering supplies from nature; bellowing Christmas carols together, right along with Crosby and Cole; and creating something pretty while talking about deep subjects and frivolous ones, side-by-side.

So here’s a round up of a few simple joys we’ve brought into our home this season, with the hope that one may inspire you to do a little holiday work too, because the payout promises to be worthwhile.

Unearth a Tiny Tree, or Ten.

While her largest treasure looks adorable in my Uncle Roger’s old wooden nail bucket, and my unearthed mini trees fit perfectly in my old enamel pans, the rest of our tiny trees are scattered around the house in Mason jars, tied up with scraps of gingham.

Spice up Some Salt Dough.

We uped the wow factor of our salt dough ornaments this year by adding cinnamon, then we tied some with red checked fabric as ornaments and strung others on twine for window garlands.

This is the recipe we used:

• 4 cups flour
• 8 Tbs. ground cinnamon (aff link)
• 1 cup salt
• 3/4 to 1 cup water

Mix well, using just enough water to make a workable dough. Roll out to 1/8″ thickness and bake on greased cookie sheet, at 300 degrees, for 30-45 minutes or until ornaments are hard. (Don’t forget to make your holes for hanging before you bake.) When cool, spray with sealer if you would like. But even without sealer these ornaments will store well in a dry, sealed container for many years.

You could also opt to make ornaments using a nifty salt-dough kit like this one. (aff link)

 

Oranges and Stars and Twine, oh my!

This craft seemed more exotic than it is, at least in my mind, and it was even more aromatic than the cinnamon ornaments when it was baking.

To make dried oranges:

1. Slice 2-3 oranges, crosswise, into roughly 1/8″ slices.
2. Line orange slices up on cookie trays, sprayed with cooking spray.
3. Bake the slices for 6-9 hours at 200 degrees.
4. Make sure the oranges are no longer soft or sticky when you take them out of the oven.
5. Pierce the dried slices with a toothpick and string twine through them to make ornaments, garlands, or wreath decorations.

I love the way the slices in our window garlands glisten and shine in the morning hours.

Selah’s birth has been the highlight of our homesteading experience. I wrote about it here.

Make Some Tree Rings.

I hopped on facebook for a minute last week to show how we make this beautiful birch bark garland. Yep, this is the part where some may say I’m a little weird, stapling bark circles. So far, we’ve made enough garland for our thin, artificial tree that stands in our carriage house. If we keep peeling and stapling, we’ll add some birch garland to our front porch as well.

Wrap it up and Hang it.

We used to have a wild grape vine that grew along our back fence in a previous home, in a previous state. Most winters I would long to clear the clutter of vines that lingered after the leaves had fallen, so I would twist the thin, pliable branches into a tight circle and the girls would use it to decorate their backyard playhouse. Kayla shared with me last month that she remembered that with fond amazement, how I could make a beautiful wreath from clutter I had yanked from around a fence post, and asked if we could forage for vines and I could teach her to work similar magic.

She was almost disappointed at the ease of twisting the long twigs then sticking in evergreen and winterberry to create a front-door masterpiece.

Just Stick it Somewhere.

Winterberry is prevalent in our low-lying areas, bordering the marsh, so it was a no-brainer to go clip some branches for a display. I discovered the old sap bucket in our barn attic years ago, and it’s been a part of our Christmas decorations ever since. Once filled with 3 small birch logs with a strand of lights buried around their base, another year overflowing with evergreens, and this year crowned with red jubilant berries.

The shadows cast by our entryway lantern make the front hall even more magical.

More Simple Holiday Joy:

6 Tips for a Simple Farmhouse Christmas

Find out what’s wrong with a nativity scene, and what we added to ours.

Gift giving ideas you’ll love, based one my 3 favorite cookbooks of all time.

Surviving the holidays. (And a printable Advent book.)

A Videos About Simple Holiday Joys:

In this facebook live, I showed how we make a birch bark garland.

And join me for a minute in my farmhouse’s carriage house, and I’ll show you another Christmas wreath.

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
    and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
    there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
    to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
    from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

Isaiah 9: 6-7

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I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

Here I wrote about why I wish nativity scenes had muddy cows: a newbie homesteader ponders the first Christmas.

Find out why SoulyRested was considered to be one of the Top 20 Must-Read Homesteading Blogs of 2018 and then one of the Top Homesteading Blogs of 2019 as well.

Glance at my Resource Page if you’d like to get a glimpse of all the supplies I use and recommend for everything from gardening, to homeschooling, to chicken care, to nature journaling, to maple syrup making.

 

I’d love to connect!

To find me in some other neck of the woods, just click any (or every!) icon below:

The post Simple Christmas Joys first appeared on Souly Rested.

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Honestly, I’m still embarrassed as I type this, but I’m gonna get over it and share what I learned this week about how to know the sex of a newborn calf. (No, this isn’t rocket science, and yes, I did learn about anatomy in middle school.). You see, my biggest mistake was the fact that for evidence of my calf’s manhood I was indeed looking at an umbilical cord…

Twenty months in the making

Granted, I should give myself a break; I was caught up in the moment of excitement that day. It was the day of the birth of the first ever calf born and bred on our homestead. Scout–a sweet purebred Holstein heifer–has been on our farm for almost 20 months. Kayla, my homesteader extraordinaire and 16-year old going on 30 for maturity and work ethic, saved money for years, working hard as an entrepreneur, to purchase Scout, her first winter’s hay, and all the supplies she needed to fence in a field for Scout around her stable. (She was even interviewed by CNNMoney for her entrepreneur efforts.)

Kayla immediately had Scout bred, as soon as she purchased her. At least we thought. Scout went on a 6-week “vacation” with “friends.” (Aka, we trailered her to a neighbor’s farm where they were keeping a bull to breed with their own cows for a few months.) We eagerly waited for the day when we’d have fresh milk on the farm. Maybe I should explain–because I’ll admit I didn’t understand how it all worked a few years ago–a young female cow doesn’t produce milk until she has given birth. Once she calves, she produces plenty of milk for her baby and for a whole family too. So for 20 months we have had a milk cow but no milk. (Notice me–the unexperienced homesteader–hanging her head in shame here.)

Sadly, the first attempt at breeding didn’t work. Thankfully, the second attempt, last fall, was the charm. So, you can imagine, after 20 months of very eager anticipation, we were over-the-top elated when the calf arrived last week.

A beautiful morning

My college daughter, the engineer student of this Language-Arts-kinda mom, was home for the weekend. She noticed Scout’s boisterous “moo”s very early in the morning. She went to investigate and then came into the house rousing us all from our slumber with elated screams, “Scout had her baby! The baby was born! We have a calf!”

We all ran to the field in our PJs and boxers to see the sweet black and white, big-eared adorableness already standing (albeit very unsteady) and cleaned. She spent her first day lounging in the shade–while being smothered by her momma’s pampering–meeting the other farm inhabitants who wandered her way, learning how to nurse, and, yes, incorrectly being called a “boy.”

Of course, because I’m a homestead blogger and I immediately share all big excitements on my facebook page, poor Selah was known as a boy her first full day by tens of thousands of people sharing the excitement and offering name suggestions (all male, of course).

You can see the calf’s umbilical cord in that last picture. Yes, that’s the evidence of my ineptitude. If I had just done a few other things before announcing to the social media world that I was inept, I could have saved face. But, alas, my readers already knew I don’t really know what I’m doing when it comes to this homesteading thing…

Four simple ways to know the sex of your calf

So here’s what I should have known about sexing a cow, because well, I do have a cow on my homestead…

Basically, if I had done any of these four simple things, I could have known that “he” was indeed a “she.” But the last one is my favorite because it doesn’t even require disturbing momma and baby, if you’re simply able to sit and observe them for a while.

  1. Look under the tail

It’s really as simple as it sounds. Lift the tail of the calf and look for the male anatomy. The testes or the vagina are located right in front of the anal opening. But don’t be surprised if it’s not extra easy to spot.

  2. Feel under the tail

Sometimes on young calves it’s not easy to see the male or female parts. So if you’re not sure by looking, you can feel under the tail. Again, you’re feeling right in front of the anal opening.

  3. Peer under the belly

I’ll be honest, I had no desire to invade the sweet moments of that morning by feeling all around for cow testes, so I simply looked under the little one’s belly. My fault was that I didn’t look back far enough. I noticed the remains of the umbilical cord and thought I had discovered the proof of manhood. But to properly ID a calf, one needs to look far back, between the back legs and the stomach. The stomach is where the umbilical cord will be visible.

  4. Watch the calf pee

In my opinion, the best way to sex a calf is to simply, patiently, wait to witness it relieving itself. Out the back? You have a heifer. From the belly? You have a bull calf.

So, after receiving hundreds of suggestions for a bull name, I was in the field and observed the “bull” peeing like a heifer. Then I had to eat humble pie and announce a plot twist to my facebook readers.

How we chose a name

Once I announced my error, sweet suggestions for girl names started flooding in. We narrowed it down to three options. We liked “Jem,” sticking with the To Kill A Mockingbird theme, since the Momma was named “Scout” after the feisty, innocent, lovable main character of the classic book. We also liked “Maple,” since we are a small maple syrup production farm, and my book Sweet Maple is in production, and the adorable heifer–with her white face and abundantly curious ears–sure is sweet. And then there was the name my engineer suggested a few weeks prior, when she learned that this Hebrew word could be a reminder to “chew on” God’s goodness she decided it was a perfect name for a calf: Selah.

In the end, we named our sweet new heifer the name that sums up our feelings and emotions the last 20 months while we were waiting for her. You see, in the almost 2 years we’ve longed for a calf and the fresh milk that goes with it, we’ve weathered many heartaches in our family.

From one daughter’s battle with chronic pain. . .

to her diagnosis with an incurable neurological syndrome.

From my mom’s cancer diagnosis to the loss of both my parents so suddenly. . .

We’ve been struggling to keep afloat, but always, continually, we were buoyed by the prayers of friends (and even strangers) and by the assurance of God’s presence and grace every step of every difficult day.

While “Selah” does mean “chew on” or think deeply, it is also a musical term that has many possible Hebrew meanings from its 74 occurrences in the Psalms and Habakkuk, but it could have represented a pause and a praise. Bible scholars disagree on its numerous nuances, so I won’t try to truly define it, but I will share what it means to us. It’s a meaning that seems so very appropriate referring to the difficulties our family has weathered recently.

To us, “Selah” is a reminder to think deeply on the heartache God has allowed in our life. Heartache, in God’s economy, is always for our good and His glory, even though it never seems that way in our economy, in the midst of the difficulties. So “Selah” is a reminder to us to “chew on” God’s goodness–not unlike a cow chews on her cud–and then, while we’re paused, offer praise. Because when you think deeply on God’s loving character, and when you take time to notice His gracious hand in even the most difficult, literally painful, nights, you can’t help but praise him.

I should be honest here. The praise never came instantly to me these last few months. I fumed with a stiff fist at God through many of the worst weeks of my life this spring, weeks I sat utterly helpless by my daughter who was writhing in scream-worthy agony. But He graciously never left her or me. When we sat crying in dark ICU rooms so far away from family and home and so deeply intimate with misery, He was there. I always felt His presence, and I couldn’t deny His obvious provision and direction to help my daughter in miraculous ways as the weeks unwound. The more His grace unfolded, the more my heart melted, recognizing His love.

So to our family, “Selah” means to pause, think on God’s goodness in every situation, and then give Him praise. Selah’s birth was the most beautiful, fluffy-soft reason for praise that we’ve had for a long season of difficult days.

In this video, Selah was just an hour or two old, still working on figuring out how to use her legs, and she still hadn’t attempted nursing. Scout was working hard to prompt her in that direction . . .

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Join me for a few minutes on my farm and meet Selah. While you’re there, I’d love for you to follow my youtube channel.

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Glance at my Resource Page if you’d like a glimpse of all the supplies I use and recommend for everything from owning a dairy cow, to gardening, to homeschooling, to nature journaling, to maple syrup making.

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The post She finally arrived, and her name is music to my ears first appeared on Souly Rested.