Trail of Tears Pow-wow

This is a major event in our small town. My girls dressed the part and were Indians for a day. They had a great time.

My Trip to Oregon... part 2: The Setting

I had never been to the Pacific Northwest before, so I was enthralled with the natural beauty of the place. Mapleton, Oregon is a very small town with very big scenery. Here are some pictures that I took in Mapleton. It's so easy to take a nice picture there. Then there is a video of my friend Daniel showing me Sweet Creek Falls, where we found a giant banana slug.

My Trip to Oregon... part 1: The Wedding

Last weekend I flew to Oregon to witness the marriage of a dear friend-- my daughter's best friend. My daughter was a bridesmaid. This wedding was special for many reasons. Elisabeth, the bride, either made herself, or had a hand in making everything needed for the wedding. She made her dress, the invitations, the flowers, the cakes, the cake toppers, the decorations, the programs, etc. and everything was done in a Victorian country style. Her dress had a corset and a bustle! The bridesmaids each made their own dresses in various retro styles. The groomsmen wore suspenders and hats. The dancing at the wedding was English country. Have you ever seen a production of Pride and Prejudice? Well, that's the kind of dancing they had. Perhaps the most special element of this wedding was that the bride and groom shared their first kiss at the altar. Nowadays, that is very special.

Summer stuff

I was organizing pictures today and realized that I neglected to post these three videos for your enjoyment, so here they are in no particular order:
finding a copperhead in the field;
the little girls swinging on a double-decker swing that they designed themselves;
and our pet squirrel, Twinkie, making a nest on the bookshelf. We have since released Twinkie at Grandpa's house. He still hangs around to get easy snacks that Grandpa leaves out for him. (too many cats at our house)

Bridesmaid's dress

I finally finished my daughter's bridesmaid's dress. Her best friend is getting married on Aug. 22. My daughter and I are both flying out to a northwestern state for the wedding. We are both looking forward to it. Then my girl goes straight to college. What?! But then who will go shopping with me? With whom shall I discuss classical literature? Or who will tell me if my outfit looks dumb, or if I'm not parenting my little ones properly... wait a minute, maybe a little autonomy is not so bad :)
Ha ha! Look at this picture of the vintage crinoline slip we bought to go under the dress. It is so stiff it can stand by itself!

The Quilt Catastrophe

Did you ever experience something so unbelievable that you couldn't believe it really happened? Today I experienced something that belonged in a novel or movie but not REAL life. It pains me to write about it, but I am in need of some kind of catharsis, so here it goes...

My father's very good friend made a special quilt for him. Technically it was a quilt, but more accurately a wonderful piece of art containing fabric, embroidery, beads, ornamental pins, etc. The design was an original, collaborated on by her and my father. It involved circular and linear shapes and beautiful dragonflies. This was not something you would ever put on a bed, but something you must hang on a wall in a prominent place to marvel at.
Anyway, in order to hang it, my father asked me to make a rod pocket for it. Having adequate sewing skill, I was happy to do it. So he left it here with me. First Mistake.
I already had a project underway-- a bridesmaid's dress for my daughter-- so I kept the quilt folded up and sitting next to my desk on a stool. Second Mistake.
This afternoon, I thought I'd better get started on the rod pocket, but when I looked for the quilt it was gone. With four kids and a husband in the house I was not at first alarmed but questioned everyone as to the quilt's whereabouts. You know the line, "I won't be angry with you, just tell me where you put it." No one seemed to know where it was. I looked EVERYWHERE. Thinking someone put it away with our blankets, I ransacked linen closets, checked beds, doll cribs, anywhere it could have been misplaced... nothing.
Then a horrible thought occurred to me. I went to my 14 year-old son and asked, "Honey, when you emptied all the trash cans this morning, did you do the one beside my desk?... You did? Well, did you see a big folded up blanket looking thing?"
He answered, "You mean that old carpet? Yeah, I think I threw it away."
I stammered, "B-B-But was it IN the trash can?!"
"Well, the trash can was tipped over, and the carpet was laying on top, so I thought you wanted to throw it away."
"My darling boy, what day of the week is it?"
"It's Thursday-- trash pick-up day."
I felt the blood retreat from my brain as I whispered OMG.
My son and I ran to the curb. The cans were empty. The quilt was on the way to the dump. The beautiful- one-of-a-kind- irreplaceable -work -of- art- quilt that meant a lot to my father.
I cried inconsolably for an hour.
I forgave my son.
My father forgave us both.
Unbelievable.

Shearing, Nala

Well, here we go again. It's been like a month since I've blogged. I know I need to do better. We've had some deletions and additions to our farm this month. We have one squirrel left, Twinkie, who I'm having a hard time letting go. Yeah, he's probably ready, but I'm not.
After losing ANOTHER small flock of chickens, we found a new home for our dog, Flomar, and got a more farm-friendly breed. Her name is Nala, and so far she is wonderful.
Cami was out walking in the pasture when she came upon a little kitten. We have no idea where it came from, but of course I let her keep it. We call it Chloe.
We have acquired three dairy bull calves which we bottle feed twice a day. Also a young milk goat we got at an auction. She is a SPECIAL goat. She cannot be kept in any pen or enclosure, so we lock her in the garage at night and sweep the goat berries out every morning. During the day she hangs around the house and takes naps on the back porch like a dog. She plays with the little girls when they come outside and makes such a fuss if we tie her up. We plan to breed her in the fall and milk her in the spring.
We sheared our two llamas, which we were dreading to do, but it was not so bad this year. We discovered our 14 year-old son is a llama charmer. He single-handedly took care of our large breeding male.