Great food for New Years Eve thought....

"We must live simply so others can simply live."
Ed Bahler

(read more here.)

Wow, I love this girl...

I am so thankful for each of our children and this one is so absolutely fabulous. She's always willing and happy to stir a pot, hold a baby (loves to hold babies!), help un-bury me from laundry, be brave and yell at the rooster (while holding a big broom to swing at him of course), make a delicious bowl of fruit ambrosia, cuddle up with a big book, and dress up any and every willing (and unwilling) participant. I am so thankful God gave us this daughter!

Real Life

Last minute gift-y knitting, drippy out of doors clothes on the rack by the woodstove, a sleepy but I will not sleep baby, and too many ugly black cords. And laundry...
Have I mentioned laundry before? My facebook status usually has something to do with laundry.

A new baby is always welcome...

Funny, funny.. . I've heard all these!

I thought this was so sweet....

Andrew Douglas snagged a box that I discarded, wrapped, taped, wrote his name and ours, and then taped some more, I think.
Inside were two salt dough ornaments that he made himself and two one dollar bills.
Love that kid.

I hope yours was a Merry one...

ours was!

Christmas Happenings

I don't know where this white boy of ours got his rhythm from, but rhythm he has. He conducted throughout the Christmas special, be-bopping all the while. I love it. I love seeing him enjoying music so much. He wants to play the fiddle, he tells me. Do lefties play the same as righties? The hunt for a teacher begins....
This sweet child of ours was the mistress of ceremonies and did a fantastic job. She was cool as a cucumber, not a bit of nerves on her.

That, she gets from the Papa, not me.

Some fun....

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Twas the night before...

Twas the night before nothing when everywhere in sight, the children were bouncing, bouncing with all of their might. The Mama was loving and Papa took care but the children still bounced and bounced through their hair.


The children were nestled all snug in their boots, while visions of a late bedtime made them holler and hoot! And Mama in her kerchief and I in my cap were wishing to be settled in for a long winter's nap.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter, I raced on my sled to see who would go faster. Away by the window we flew like a flash, tore up the icy driveway, ending in a laughing smash!


The moon on the breast of the fresh fallen snow, gave the luster of midday to objects we know.
Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, but five handsome sleds and those wild children our hearts hold so dear.
With a little cute baby, all bundled in place, I knew in a moment that it must be Chase.


More rapid than eagles their coursers they came, and they whistled and shouted and hollered by name!
"Come Kaelin! Come Douglas! Come Christopher - quick! To the top of the sled, to the top of the hill! Now sled away! Race away! Race away all!"
As dry leaves that before the hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle race to the sky,
So down the driveway the small drivers flew, with sleds full of snow and little Catherine too!

Their eyes how they twinkled, their cheeks looked so merry! Their Papa and I knew how sleepy they'd soon be - so very!
The makings of a snowball were soon held in hand, and flying through the air all over the land!
Down went Douglas, in one snowy heap as Catherine jumped over him in a spectacular leap!

Papa winked at I, and I winked at him, as sleepy small heads one by one headed indoors
To thaw out their clothes, dropped splatter on the floors. I heard one exclaim, headed to bed out of sight,
"I love you, Mama! Papa - goodnight!"

A fellow homeschooling mom and friend had a brilliant idea, sending out e-mail requests to friends this fall, asking for their favorite quick and frugal recipes. She then copied and pasted them to us all! This adaption of a friend's bowtie and sausage pasta has been made a few times in our home. It is a quick and filling meal in a pinch. Here is her recipe and my adaptions in parenthesis.

Bowtie & Sausage Pasta Jen Wold

Olive oil

1 medium onion

1 lb mild sausage (I use breakfast sausage, one of our family's favorites!)

1 lb bowtie (farfalle) pasta (we used rigatoni tonight!)

1 cup heavy cream (ummm.. cheapo here uses milk....)

3/4 – 1 cup grated Parmesan Cheese

Put a large pot of water on a burner and set the heat to high.

Once the water is boiling, add the pasta and cook until al dente.

Pour enough olive oil into a skillet/frying pan to cover the bottom. Turn heat on to medium high.

Dice the onion and add them to the pan. Cook until translucent and soft (about 7 minutes).

Add the sausage and cook until done.

Carefully drain most of the grease from the sausage/onions, leaving a small amount.

Turn the heat down to low and add the cream.

Once the pasta is cooked, drain it and add the sausage/cream sauce.

Add the Parmesan cheese and toss.

I estimate it feeds our family of seven for under $7.

In critique of the crunchy Christian life

I've found that what comes easiest to us is usually the method God uses to work through us but can also be the vice that cripples us. I've been examining my life in this light lately.

Take for example a person with a gift of insight. Used well, it can help lead and guide and give wisdom. Used poorly it can be critical and divisive and at its worst injure the human spirit.

Sean and I do well living a crunchy Christian life. We can eat, grow, debate, and love God's beautiful earth with the best of them. I love finding great deals on organic foods, researching agriculture methods, canning my veggies, saying that I pluck chickens, making my own detergent, birthing at home, and all that other stuff that comes with the crunchy life.

We might spend big money on high count, organic sheets for our beds (in the name of health, of course), yuppie leather shoes for our babies, designer drinks at $12 a quart, and buy meat where the cow has been coddled and loved and gently killed, sometimes caring more about the moo of the cow than our fellow man.

If we are good we take an interest in the causes that affect humanity. Poverty, AIDS orphans, sex slavery, malnutrition. If we are really good, we spread the news with our friends, listen to speakers on the topics that move our hearts, give our money to the causes that afflict our spirits and then settle back down into our lounge chairs by the fire, patting ourselves on the back.

Don't we feel fine about the life we live. All goody-two-shoes and self righteous and hunky-dory.

My thought is this: Isn't it an easy line to cross between caring about our health and caring about the earth to glorifying our bodies and glorifying the earth?

What good does head knowledge and agri-debate do for the starving in Zimbabwe? What progress am I contributing as I stroke my organic silky soft shirt as Hmong people are being starved, targeted and killed in the jungles of Laos? I am glad that my children are healthy and don't eat pesticides but what good does this do the children right here who are exposed to pesticides in school without their consent?
(Foot tapping, slightly irritated with myself....)

Yes, Jesus loves me, this I know and this really is a great time of year to celebrate His birth and the gift of his life. It is also a great time to reflect and examine to what cause we are using the lives He has given us.

Blessings,
Hanah

Last December I blogged incessantly. I crafted, baked, and obsessed incessantly. Perfect tree, perfect wrappings, perfectly planned out Jesse Tree ornaments with the kiddos. I can blame part of it all on last year's nesting, as Chase hadn't arrived yet.


This year... this year I really just wanted to enjoy the advent season with as little stress and as lot of joy as possible. And we have. And are.



We've still been busy but on our own terms. School lessons have mellowed for the month. Douglas, who has had a long steady road to travel in reading is suddenly taking off, reading me cheesy little stories every day which his divinely given sense of humor finds hilarious. "Pig sat in mud" and "Wet hen went to bed" were never so appreciated.


My little lefties have begun to knit and crochet right handed because that is the only way I can teach them, poor things. They LOVE it and I figure their brains will figure out the leftie way of doing things all on their own once the basics are down. So we knit a bit, sew much, bake whatever sounds delicious, watch about wild animals for science, make lapbooks, sled, sit by the woodstove with library books, hide presents and straighten the tipping Charlie Brown tree twelve times a day. (Which is rigged up with one tree stand, one lego piece and two tinker toy pieces.)

This morning Chase seemed to have grown a mile overnight, prompting an impromptu photo shoot while the older kiddos were learning about leopards via a BBC documentary. I have a love/hate relationship with babies growing so quickly. (Sniff, sniff....) I love when I get a good nights sleep, which has been exactly three times since his birth. And I hate that it all flies by so fast and before you know it they are eight and referring to their younger siblings as "the children". Does anyone else out there have an eight year old with such an old soul? Is it an oldest child syndrome? I don't know.



Slow down. Enjoy your families and friends. Make the advent season less about stuff and more about peace. Read to your kiddos. Go sledding. If you live somewhere warm, soak in some warmth for me. Laugh. Be silly. Give. Talk about deep things with your kids. Make blueberry pancakes and gingerbread men and orange julius. Sing loudly. Sing carols. Listen.

Have a beautiful night,
Hannah

The Power of Praying Women

God has blessed my life by surrounding me with women who pray for me. It really is a powerful thing, as I've mentioned before. Any of them, I know, I could call in a moment and I have! My Mom, stepmom Pam, sister, and friends like the beautiful one above holding our Chase are some of the praying women in my life that I am so thankful for. Thankful, thankful, thankful.

So many times in this culture, women get a reputation for other things, not so noble as prayer. Gossiping, immorality, immodesty, being superficial, petty, lazy. These are the things I want far from me, far from taking residence in my family.

My daughters and I sit and talk, talk while we wash dishes, do lessons, live life. What is character? What is morality? What is modesty? What truly makes a woman beautiful?

I love the character our eight year old is exhibiting, unprompted. (Mama's are allowed to brag a bit, right?) I love her heart of compassion, that she wants to comfort and pray for people, when she asks to give her things to friends who have less, when she picks up a task without being asked...

We want to raise our daughters to be "salt and light" in their culture. Lights don't shine if they are just as dim as what surrounds them.

Someday my daughters will join this circle of praying women, supporting each other practically and in prayer, through all the seasons of life. I look forward to the day of getting a phone call asking, "Mom, will you pray?"

"Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me your heart for the once forgotten..."

(The video below is not appropriate for little eyes.)

Anniversary Day

Late this morning we dropped four of the five kiddos off at the home of very brave friends and took off with only the babe, Chase. I cannot remember the last time we had a day with just one kiddo!

Back country roads brought us past an Amish buggie with dice swinging in the front windshield (?) and a school bus sawn in half with a plow attached. Really, though, besides these oddities, the scenery was absolutely beautiful as we made our way over hill and vale to a small Amish farm that sells hand made cheeses and butter and fresh milk and meats.


Loaded up with raw cheeses, cheddar, Gruyere, and another whose name I cannot recall at this late hour when I ought to be in bed, we headed over more hills to a favorite antique center, intending to pick up some specific Christmas gifts for the boys. We passed by this beautiful Russian monastery in the itty bitty town where my family lived when I was a baby.

There are always beautiful things at this specific antique mill. We admired this enormous old toboggan and wished it was not already sold. It would have been the perfect size for our family, don't you think?


Years ago at an auction I passed on a beautful footed maple table like this one below and kick myself for it.

It went to the highest bidder at $50. This one too, is a steal at just $120. Needless to say, it would not fit our family around it and so it sits there still, waiting for its perfect family.

Sean found a small handsaw for Douglas, which he has been hoping for. He'll learn to use it with Papa's supervision, of course. For Christopher, a small hand drill. If you have not seen an antique hand drill, they really are fabulous. Sort of like the old fashioned egg beaters but with a spinning drill at the end, if that makes any sense. Very kid friendly.

Chase hung out with us all day, chewing on his socks in the antique store and giving big toothy grins to anyone.

We picked up the kiddos and headed home. I missed my kiddos! They were exhausted from playing all day and four of five were asleep by the time we pulled into the driveway. Kaelin and Douglas made everyone happy face plates of food for a snacky supper. Slices of uncured ham for the face, raisins made into eyes, noses, mustaches, mouths. Crackers for hair and uncured salami for hats. Tada!

Sean and I slipped out again this evening to a favorite restaurant that we only get to every once in a blue moon. It is lovely and yummy and elegant and pricey.



Over the years we have had a lot of good conversations here over French Onion soup


and a cup of hot tea, fresh baked bread with a crusty crust and the twelve hundred other courses of food they supply, all baked, cooked, broiled, whipped and served with perfection.


Tonight we talked about all the things we are so thankful for which are so many, the funnies the kids have done over the years, how many vehicles and houses we've had together (7 and 3, respectively) where God has our life headed....

It was peaceful and calm, fireplace crackling and acoustic guitar strumming in the background.


Yes, I brought the camera and Sean just chuckled and said, "blog fodder?"



The food was great. I ate one bite, just one bitty bite of my delicious pork tenderloin with goat cheese and leeks with a basalmic and honey reduction. By that time we had had eleven hundred of the twelve hundred courses and were painfully stuffed.


But that's okay, because nothing is more exciting to our kids than "date food". We could bring home something that they would never like in a thousand years and they will gobble it up just because it is "date food". No, I'm not too proud to ask for my food to be wrapped at a fancy restaurant. I'm thrifty, remember?

Happy Anniversary, my love. The past ten years of being your wife have been the best of my life. All the joys of life have been magnified, sharing them with you, and all the cares and concerns of life have been easier to bear because of your love. I love you!

Missional Hearts, missional living

I love our sweet old house and the wind whipping down the back fields into our yard of trees, ruffling chicken feathers and moody rooster feathers. I love the row of ducks waddling along the driveway, intent on making their morning sojourn to the puddles left by last night's rain. It is a happy, peaceful, busy life. And we want to leave it all behind. Soon.



Sean and I have always longed for this land of the free and the brave to not be our home.
He has spent a lot of time in Germany, speaks fluent German, so we thought, "Let's go to Germany!" But the whole German thing has been pretty vision-less. What would we do there? Start yet another church? There are plenty of good folks doing just that. The whole being put into prison for homeschooling has kind of put a damper on Germany. A wet, soggy sock kind of damper. Yuck.


Our hearts tend to fall into the working with families niche with a heavy compassion for children. We love being lay pastors in our local church. Love opening our home. Love seeing families and marriages strengthened through the power of God's Word. Love it, love it, love it. I've fallen into the habit this year of having a younger wife or mother over on a weekly basis. It is sometimes hard but it has been great and always worth the effort. At least two or three times a week people are here. It is good for my housecleaning routine in general and I've gotten really, really good at hiding laundry.

Sean and I believe in missional living, living intentionally, making the most out of every opportunity to share God's love. Sean views his small company not just as a way to provide for our family but as a resource for giving and an in into the community we live in.



Now the scheming continues. "Can we figure out how quickly we can have this house ready to sell?" I asked Sean this afternoon as he wrapped his arms around me and asked what was making me so quiet. The times after I spend in prayer I feel this the heaviest. Sometimes I want to put my hands over my ears and not "hear" any more.

The house is overwhelming, a huge project, and I feel my heart palpitate faster as the mental list of what needs to be done adds up. Selling it to DIY'ers ready to dig in would be fantastic! But there are rooms to be finished, a roof to be put on, exterior painting to be done, a new furnace to be installed... I really hate being tied to a house.



Neither of us want to raise our children in a have-it-all society, focused on the joys of Disney, placated by TV shows, caught up in a culture that has nothing profitable to offer. I want them to see other children with needs and the joy of being part of a solution. I want them to experience need for themselves and experience the joy God supplies in the midst of it. Our American lives are too cushy.

Where will we go? I have no idea. Somewhere where God can use a mother who can butcher a chicken and a husband who can build/fix anything. Only God knows. I'm sure He does.
So if you feel the urge to pray for the Cultivating Home crew, pray that God would lead us and guide us and prepare our way financially, even now preparing a buyer for our house. It is in His hands.

Have a peaceful night,
Hannah