Tag Archives: #itsnotta farm

Sounds of a Silent Saturday

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Welcome back, my friends. Apologies for skipping out last week… just wasn’t there. It was Easter and I was certainly musing, but I didn’t get a chance to sit down at the computer to write about it. So it’s going to overflow into this week. It’s my blog, I’m allowed. It’s been an eventful week this week too … two words: baby chicks! Therefore, I am a little late in posting. But: it’s my blog, I’m allowed.

Okay. Here we go. I want to invite you in to the middle of the night at my old farmhouse. I have very few neighbours. It’s not the big city. We have one streetlight, so that permeates the absolute darkness of, let’s say, three o’clock in the morning. I’m lying in bed awake, as some women of my age do, listening. The chubby dog takes up half the space I have allocated myself and I pull the remaining covers up over my shoulders. It’s chilly, but that’s okay. The dog snorts. I hear myself and the hubby breathing. My eyes are closed and block out the streetlight. I listen again.

Photo by Kseniya Budko on Pexels.com

During the day, our old farmhouse creeks and we hear the wind outside. Our neighbouring cows are loud most of the time. The occasional car, truck or farm vehicle zoom past our front yard and kick up the dust – the dog barks at the slower traffic. Up until recently, Morris our rooster could be heard. (It’s a myth that roosters only crow in the mornings. That crazy bird yelled all the time at us!) However, I’m sad to report he’s been missing now for a few weeks. I’d like to think he was heroic and was “taken” fighting the whole time to protect his ladies. Even our buddy down the road commented he hadn’t heard him lately and kinda misses him. Enough about that sad event. Moving on.

Back to three o’clock in the morning and the snoring dog. Imagine you hear a gurgling like a giant belch emanating from some underwater jelly-bellied monster. That monster happens to be the sump pump located in the basement, directly underneath our master bedroom. It belches several times throughout the day and night. Earlier in the spring it followed a constant sound of rushing water as the spring melt emptied and got flushed back out by the sump pump. I’ve learned to appreciate the sound of the it, because it means my basement isn’t flooding. Like the sound of generators running constantly during our ice storm a few weeks ago. Thankfully, those have stopped now, and we are back to a general quiet.

Listen again. Hushed breathing. The cat jumps down from something upstairs with a soft thud. My new baby chick birds finally rustle. I listen to hear them as I’ve only had them a few days (yeah!) and I’m still at the new momma “please don’t die” stage. Somebody peeps very softly, and I say a prayer of thanks for signs of life in the middle of the night. They settle back down in their living room home with the soft red light of the heat lamp. Silence again. Gurgle belch. Hushed breathing. The furnace clicks on briefly, with a rush of pilot light flame. Otherwise it is pretty quiet here.

I’m a week behind in this muse, but I’ve been thinking about it since a comment I heard Easter weekend. You’ve heard of “good Friday”. You may have heard of “celebration Sunday” or “Easter Sunday” or even “resurrection day”, but this year, for the first time ever, I heard someone use the term “silent Saturday”. The day between Jesus’ death on “good Friday” and rising again on the third day… the day when all was absolutely silent. Apparently, I am late to the party on this concept, for google has lots to say about silent Saturday. Not so silent on the internet. Well fine. It was a new thought for me. And so, I share it with you!

One imagines Jesus, stone cold in a dark tomb. Obviously, corpses don’t say much. God the father did a lot of “talking” on Friday, but no signs and wonders happen to be recorded on the day in between. Jesus’ followers have probably gathered, but may be hiding out, keeping a low profile. It seems like it really was a “silent Saturday”. And it seems, with some reflection on my part, and the internet sparking my thoughts, a day of quiet reflection should totally be a part of the Easter story! Life is difficult. There will be hard days. Yet, life is also beautiful, and there will be many a day filled with joy and celebration. And we often need a few silent Saturdays, to balance it all out. To question why God seems to have abandoned us. Why He seems like He is not answering our prayers. Then to reflect on His faithfulness, and draw strength for the next step. Like me listening for signs of life at three in the morning, thankful that things are still “okay so far”.

So, thanks to that friend that happened to mention this phrase to me last week… it ignited a muse that’s spanned a week! Was it news to you? Even if it wasn’t and you knew this lingo way before me, I hope it’s been a good reminder to you, to appreciate a bit of silence. May you take the opportunity to hear the gurgle belch of a good sump pump and appreciate all you have. Be blessed, beloveds.

Gratitude After the Ice Storm ( and Appreciating a Hot Bath!)

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Well, well, well… we are back! And what an adventure it has been while we were gone. And by gone, I mean off grid, reduced to our roots, knocked out and defeated. There was no mittonmusings blog post last week, not because we were not musing… but because we were offline and incommunicado! Country living notwithstanding, we, along with several of our neighbours and community at large, got our power knocked out in a giant ice storm last week. The ice, combined with high winds made our little forest sound and look like a war zone. I was out tending to the chickens, and all you could hear was cracking and the crash of giant tree limbs ripping from their trunks and smashing to the ground. The cedar hedge surrounding our property had tree tops bending so far down, they were blocking our sidewalks. Power lines were knocked out and we were, once again, in the dark.

Our forest was hit hard!

Now, the dark doesn’t bother me so much. I’m happy to hunker down by the wood stove and throw an extra blanket on. Water, however, is another story. When the well pump goes out and we don’t have water, let alone hot water, I get a bit more grumpy. And the spring thaw adds to the mess and the sump pump works overtime and can’t keep up with the seepage and your basement is wet. Water, but in all the wrong places. By day three, we went in to visit the grand baby and have showers. Buckets of pond water flushed our toilets. How a simple thing like clean drinking water makes all things beautiful. Remember that when the third world countries cry for help at Christmas!

The cedar hedges were touching the walkway!

In fact, the hubby and I had been chatting about a generator since last year… after the power went out this time, the hubby headed out after church and bit the bullet. Extension cords snaked through the living room. The heater unplugged and coffee plugged in. (Both required too much juice). Who’s phone charger was this? Oh, I wish I had water instead of brushing my teeth in a cup filled with spring water from the community center’s filled bucket! By day three or four (they all started blending together…) we caved in even more and hooked up a switch in the basement… the well pump was back up and running! I had the best bath I have ever had! Steaming from head to toe!

Can I tell you again how good this hot bath was?!

By day five and a half, we were back online and thankful. The hubby got to learn a lot about electricity and generators. We bonded with our neighbours and ate way too many carbs. We had something good to chat about for the next week. Yet, more than anything, we were grateful. Grateful for Hydro One workers, grateful for each other, grateful that no one was hurt, etc. etc. etc. As with many storms in the past, we see community come together in a crisis and human nature begins to blend into a single living unit, taking care of one another and assisting as best we can. I’m still seeing posts about neighbours helping neighbours clearing debris and assisting in the “catch up and clean up”.

Realistically, our short period of “inconvenience” really was a first world problem. No internet? Not a crisis. We could access fresh water. We were not starving. We weren’t smelling great, but we went to work, we drove our cars, we ate. I mused: “God’s just up there reminding us He is still in control… thinking you’ve got it all together? Here, let’s throw in a little ice and wind… or a tornado, or tsunami… A small mudslide just to remind you Who’s the Great I Am? Yup, that would still be ME!” says God. And so, I remain grateful, and humbled, and adequately reminded -again- that He’s still in control.

Isaiah 45 reminds us that we should be humbled when situations like this arrive. Who should question God and His actions? He flung the stars into space… and will down a thousand trees if He wants to. The storm on the sea, reacts in check to His words. How much more should we mere humans react to – dare I say – political slandering or big talk from pious leaders? We learned in our small group last week that words are powerful. They are for sure! We can build up one another or tear one another down simply by speaking. Like a layer of ice on the mighty oaks in our forest, heaps of discouraging words can weaken and break us. Finally, when a little more wind comes along to shove us over the threshold, we finally snap.

There’s so much to unpack after such a country catastrophe. The musings keep coming and I’m not sure this post actually settled on one theme. Still, my beloved readers have grown accustom to my ramblings, haven’t you? Let’s just settle on retelling the latest adventure out here and the consequences… or maybe the pleasures that have returned… like hot steamy baths. And we’ll just go from there, okay? Come back for more in the coming weeks when the hubby gets to try out his new chain saw. I’m sure I will have choice words to say about that!

Finding Support in Snowstorms: A Journey Home

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Well, my friends, it has been a winter wonderland recently out here at #Itsnotta Farm! The big fluffy flakes are still coming down as I type tonight, and it is supposed to keep coming for a few more hours… here’s hoping I can get out to work tomorrow! Which is where my muse meets us for this week’s post: travelling home from work last week! Usually, by the time I am heading home from work it is beginning to get dark. My commute is about 12 minutes on a good day… along two fairly decent two lane “highways”. One day last week was whiteout conditions. Now, when the weatherman says whiteout out here, it means the snow drifts across the farmer’s fields… and with the predicted 100 kilometer winds, the snow piled up deep and fast!

Photo by Apti Newim on Pexels.com

So here was my scenario… it’s dark, the wind is whipping across the fields, driving snow over and across the roads. It’s not bad driving along until: BAM you hit the snow drift at 60 clicks. Cars were spun out and dotting the road here and there. I moved slow and tried to see ahead for the dangers… almost home. Just before the turn off onto our street… flashing yellow lights. Big 18 wheeler in the ditch and the flatbed tow truck in my lane. Okay angels, get me around and back into my own lane safely…phew. Signal well in advance to turn… here I go….and OOOF.

I literally could not see in front of my face… the snow was blowing so hard between our two farmers fields I could not see… and the snow drift it created was about 3 feet high. Do I gun it and hope I make it only to get stuck deep in the middle of the drift? Do I call it here? Do I turn around and head back 10 minutes and try my luck at the other end of the road? Quick prayers and call for help. “Hi honey… I am abandoning the car here at the end of the road and walking home… no I can’t see, yes, I am fine, yes …I suppose it is stuck….I have boots…” I struggle to put my boots on and hit the flashers. I am now a country girl… I can do this. I’m so close to home, I made it this far… I can’t feel my face…

Just then, I see the head lights of a large truck… my farmer neighbour pulls up along the other side of the now 30 foot long drift. I smile my dumb-city-girl-moved-to-the country-and-can’t-drive-in-the-snow smile. “You okay? I’m going to go get my plow… be 15 minutes” as he drives his big truck through and back around. (At least now the wind had died down enough to see each other). Another set of headlights on the other end of the drift… Hubby has arrived! I drudge through the pile of snow, bare feet shoved in winter boots, purse, keys, lunch bag and shoes gathered around me as the wind whipped at my face like a scene from some crazy adventure story… I hopped in the van and drove home while my superhero hubby waited for the good Samaritan farmer to come back with the plow to get the car through. I am sure they both had a laugh at my expense and an exchange of words about country weather. I thank them both for “rescuing me”.

Not my real neighbour… but you get the idea!

As I thought about this, I wonder how many times have people needed to be rescued in life? Many of us. In fact, I am guessing all of us at some point need rescuing. We go through life’s trials slowly… trying to see ahead and making cautious choices to move around the flashing yellow lights. We put the high beams on and press forward. We almost make it home… and then we turn the corner and get hit with the drift that is just too big to plow through without help.

Are you hearing it, my friend? Have you been there struggling to put on your boots when you can’t feel your face and plan to “walk home” leaving the troubles behind? Luckily, God provides a Way. He sends community to help. It’s not just coincidence that neighbours just happen to be out driving in snowstorms. Phone calls are readily available. In 2025, we have no excuses not to check in on one another. Many of us are blinded by our surroundings. We can’t feel our faces, but we are determined to make it on our own. Until we get stuck. I was in no real danger. Yet, many of us are hiding our troubles, cruising along on our own until: BAM we hit the drift full force. Joyfully, God is right there waiting for us… we simply need to ask… and He’ll plow the way and clear the storm. He doesn’t promise the snow will stop, or that the wind won’t blow…. but He’ll be there to dig us out of the ditch when we veer off the road.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

So, beloveds, if you don’t need rescuing this week… be the neighbour. Bring the plow around and clear the way for someone else to maneuver through the snowdrifts of life. Be there at the other end of the call when someone threatens to walk home alone like a crazy person. Flash the yellow lights and be a guide for what may be ahead. Protect and pray. I’ll be thinking of you as we dig our way out of this current dumping … and hoping I make it to work in the morning! Blessings, my friends!