Hope and a Rock

Welcome back, my beloveds! You’ll forgive me for missing last week… it was a crazy time and I just couldn’t get there. Or here. Or wherever, whatever. I’m back now. We had a few first world crises which made my momma’s heart heavy and the words didn’t want to translate on the page. This week, however, that heavy heart reminded me of a story about when we first moved in to “Itsnotta” farm. So, let’s have a go, shall we?

It was mid summer and I was excited about the new property and all its potential. We may have been here about six weeks or so. The previous owner had finished the back patio as part of our final agreements, and it lacked a little lustre. The property has a big front garden and I knew I didn’t want to get in over my head just yet with a bunch of new planting in the middle of summer, but I had splurged on a couple of chicks and hens and needed a spot to put them. So I dug out a little diagonal spot next to the patio, adjacent to the back porch. We had been finding a lot of little toads hanging out back there and in the spring of this year, the youngest and I are going to make a “toad abode” so they don’t end up in our window well. (Have you ever had to rescue a toad? … they are cute but not so fun to handle).

Photo by Kolin Smith via thisoldhouse.com

It’s a tiny spot of garden so I am not super invested – but decided it needed a rock. Now imagine with me our new property, a tiny garden spot and us city slickers with little cash and next to nothing in the way of large garden tools. We didn’t even have a wheelbarrow at that time. We did, however, have a large boulder with pretty red streaks of some mineral running through it, roundish and seemingly the perfect shape to put next to a toad house and some succulents. Only issue — it was on the other side of the pool, on the opposite side of the farm field from said tiny garden plot.

No problem. I am country woman now. I can do it. So, as my hubby and fully capable children sunned themselves in the newly discovered pool, I hauled that 60-70 pound rock! I had to toss it several times like a wanna be lumber jack learning log toss to avoid dropping it on my bare feet, but it made it through my “rests”. I plunked it down on a patch of dirt where it currently sits awaiting spring and the emerging toad friends.

Why do I tell you this? The memory came to me as I was fretting over the hard weekend last week. It seems appropriate that this, the first week of Advent, was the Sunday we light the Hope candle. I needed the reminder that life is hard sometimes. Even so, there is Hope. We struggle and push through with determination – often because we are stuck between a “rock and a hard place”. God gives us challenges to help us grow. Not that that thought makes it any easier. Rocks (and our burdens) are heavy. Sometimes we have a vision in mind of the final picturesque garden with spring flowers and where warty toads have their own spaces and don’t get in your way. Yet, the rock is there to remind us, that yes, we can do hard things. The rock provides our shade for growth. Our security and stability to plant roots deep and protected.

Overcoming challenges provides us with a reminder of the Hope Christ gives us. We anticipate it and push through the hard stuff because we have it. Given to us in a little baby whose birth we celebrate at Christmas. Still, Christmas brings its own set of “hard things” for many of us. Memories can be both joyful and sad… sometimes at the same time. Here’s praying you see and feel the Hope more than the heartache this season. I am looking forward to digging through the old decorations – and adding more this year as we decorate our country porch and the barn. Maybe I should stick a poinsettia out next to my garden rock and bring a little pretty to the hard stuff. A decoration for the sleeping toads.

…I will show mercy and compassion to anyone I choose… stand near Me on this rock. As my glorious presence passes by, I will hide you in the crevice of the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by…”

adapted from Exodus 33

The Bunny Brigade

Welcome back, my beloveds, to another adventure happening here at my little corner of the internet. The days are getting cooler, the nights are getting cooler for sure, and early mornings are still hard. We packed up our pool today for the season. Slowly, slowly getting ready for the cold Canadian winter that may set in any day. Admittedly, we have been delaying it because the days are still way above freezing. Whatever. One can not predict the weather, I suppose.

Nor can one predict the behaviour of a woman who scrolls selling sights. Facebook marketplace and Kijiji are my new best friends. Mostly I scroll. It really is a crazy world out there. I muse: Hmmn. What could I do with several five gallon buckets of black walnuts? I did start a conversation about elderberries. I gave away some fabric. I am trying to sell off some other craft stuff. We visited a friend recently who had a fabulous century home and I am now inspired to seek out antique pieces to decorate. On a budget, of course. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle and Rescue, right?

Why do I blather on about such things? To justify my impulse buy. I should not have done it. I should have planned better. I know this. My hubby reminds me of this all the time. My family knows me and my thrifting habits all too well… and try and deter me. Often. Too late. Enter in the chat about very reasonably priced rabbits. Hutch and accessories included. Short drive on a Sunday afternoon. Oh, My husband loves me. Yeah, yeah, rescued them from a busy mom who didn’t have time to clean them up all the time. “Stole” them from a devastated seven year old who had been warned one too many times they were her responsibility.

And so, “Pepper” “Pickles” and “Pineapple” have joined the zoo. They came with their names, so don’t judge… devastated seven year old, remember? There was supposed to have been a forth, but she went AWOL just before we arrived. We searched the surrounding bushes and tried negotiating deals and follow ups — but we now own 2 very pretty girls and one very handsome boy bunny. My mother is questioning my sanity.

Now, I know what you are thinking. Rabbits. Boy and girl rabbits. That may lead to many many little rabbits. Not to worry, we have separated the two girls from the boy. Which brings me to my lesson of the week. Since the bunnies have come, I have been reading and researching and trying my best to house and care for the new additions – as any good pet owner should. I’ve never had bunnies before and we are housing them outdoors, because, well, bunnies are stinky. They eat a lot. And what goes in, must come out. My garden area is well composted for the spring. Let me tell you!

The Girls: Pepper and Pickles

Since we are about to hit winter, I am fretting. How will they do out in the cold? They must be kept out of the harsh winds, given extra food. Their housing must be warm, dry and draft free. I’ve learned about hay versus straw. Bedding and enrichment. And rabbit temperament. “Pepper” is a shy girl. She can be pushed to her limits though, and will protest the end of her limit with a large sounding back foot “thump”. “Pineapple” is the boy and curious. I think he likes people, but hasn’t totally warmed up yet. “Pickles” is the instigator. She arrived with a few scars that were healing and now we know why. She picks the fights. She certainly does not like the boy’s advances, so no worries there. We have maintained the peace and kept the bloodshed (and flying fur!) at a minimum. Funny creatures they are!

Pineapple, our handsome boy bunny!

Thus, I muse: if three tiny rabbits can bring such diversity and worry to my little world, how much more does the Creator of the Universe fret over us? Can you even imagine trying to make sense out of the world’s population of personalities, cultures, religions, traditions, temperaments and prayers?! Now, I know He’s God and my finite mind cannot even begin to comprehend what He can handle, but I know He feels our fears and is disappointed with our behaviours. Recent worldly events remind me that we, too, are instigators. We puff out our chests and let the fur fly when we don’t like something. Sometimes we are more reserved and it takes a little longer before we stomp our feet in protest. Other times, we throw caution to the wind and we indulge in one too many of the carrots dangling before us — and end up making a stinky mess. Or our sins breed wild, like, well, like rabbits, until we are over run and can’t keep up.

Our ancient scriptures tell us endless stories of people just like us who have messed up, but under grace, God continues to take us back. Continues to love and feed us. Continues to keep us out of the cold and safe. He knows we fight. And unlike me, our addition was not an impulse. We were planned and wanted and a perfect home was prepared for our arrival. It was us who screwed it up. We come with our scars, and a few of us go AWOL, but He’s there still to load us up and take us home. Forever.

Don’t tell the crew, but I hope to have a whole bunny brigade someday. A mix of colours, breeds and personalities. I will continue to learn rabbit husbandry. And be reminded how my heavenly Father accepts us all with grace and love. Do you feel it, my friend? Do you see it in something around you, like I see it in my new bunny brigade? What makes you see it? Share with me !

Decorating for Fall

This was the display at the front of our new church on Sunday. Simple. Rustic. Country. And I love it! ‘Tis the season of change in Ontario and it’s never more evident than in the heart of farm country! Our neighbours have started harvesting the soy bean field behind us and we have seen several large green farm vehicles in various fields around. We are still learning about what goes on and will probably never fully understand it all, but we hear that the dust is about to start flying and the roar of tractors and diesel engines will likely be heard for the next several weeks. Months, apparently, if you harvest cow corn for winter. It’s not dry and ready until December we’ve been told – if you want to “silo” it.

The sun sets so early now. Yet the colours are absolutely spectacular! Vibrant pink hues against the golden fields and touches of auburn yellow and orange forests mix with the still green rolling hills of our pathway home. Tonite, as we walked the dog, I marvelled at a vine so crimson, it looked almost dyed. Dipped in some cherry stain – rich and fermented. Like a well aged wine.

Of course, fall fair season has begun. That’s when your sense of smell takes over from sight. Fried donuts and funnel cakes. Cinnamon and cloves in the baked goods. Apple pies. Pumpkins and root vegetables. Rich coffee with cream that warms your insides. Now that I have my own barn and have been to the feed lot, I have learned that hay and straw actually has a very sweet smell. Again, slightly fermented. Okay, I suppose you have to include that sharp ammonia smell of urine and manure, since we are musing about the whole gamut of the senses. Let’s pretend we worked hard to muck out the stalls and only fresh, sweet straw is left okay?

My husband is thankful the mosquitoes have disappeared. My garden spider is gone. A few fuzzy caterpillars still cross my path now and then and the squirrels and chipmunks are busier than ever. In the heat of the mid day the wasps still swarm my porch and this weekend the lady bug invasion began. Hundreds of biting beetles snuck in through the cracks and hovered at my front door. Yuk. We vacuumed them up into oblivion.

Via houseofhawthorns.com

I marvel and muse at this time of year because nature simply cannot help but display the majesty of a master artist. If you live in a place that seldom changes with the seasons, I pity you because God’s creation is so diverse, it’s a shame that the entire world doesn’t get to see what we do in Canada. I hope you can love it through my words.

There truly is a season for everything and a time for every activity under Heaven. A unique design for beauty in, essentially, preparation for death. I am trying to prepare myself for winter. It’s an inevitable reality. And like death, it will come all to quickly. Country people prepare for winter. Wood is cut and piled. Chains and winter tires. We need a snowblower. My new bunnies need to be protected from the wind. I wonder if we prepare for death as much as we do winter? That’s a dark reality for thought at another time. Let’s go back to donuts and funnel cakes, shall we?

Canadian Thanksgiving is coming up. We will be celebrating here at the farmhouse and my porch display is lacking. I’m trying to up my decorating game – even found a box labelled “fall” with goodies in it for use. I’m gonna try. I just can’t help but celebrate the beauty it represents! Yet, I am reminded that it goes so much deeper than orange hues and pumpkins – it points to the One who set science ablaze with seasonal changes and a fully functional world based on lifecycles and minute cellular workings that cause food chains to explode with sights, sounds, smells and tastes!

We truly have much to be thankful for. Be blessed, my friends, for there is a supernatural Creator who decorated for fall just for us!