Walnut Grove

Can We Still Wish You a Merry Christmas?

2012-01-24T10:28:00.000-08:00

Below is a copy of our very belated holiday newsletter. (Right after I wrote it and printed all the copies out, I had to put my beloved cat, Beaker, to sleep. The family Christmas photo above was the last picture taken of him. I'll be writing more about him soon...)

Happy New Year!

We hope all of you had a holly jolly holiday and are geared up for the challenges and promises of a new year. For us here at Walnut Grove Farm, Christmas with a two-year old added a whole new meaning to the term, “holiday hustle and bustle.” Preparing presents, decorating the house, and cooking a meal require quite a dose of intestinal fortitude when also caring for a toddler whose reason for the season is to figure out new ways to wrap himself up in Scotch tape. (Mommy: “Stop that, Thomas! You’re making a mess and being wasteful!” Thomas: “WEEEEEE!”) Though he hasn’t quite grasped the concepts of neatness or frugality, little Thomas Jefferson has come quite far in the last year. In January 2011, he was still army crawling, breast-feeding, and goo-goo ga-ga-ing. Now, he is completely bi-pedal (except when he crawls “for show”), eating with utensils (and throwing them), and speaking in complete sentences with real words (“toodle-la, toodle-la, toodle-la” is in the dictionary, isn’t it?). He’s also learning his colors in Spanish thanks to Daddy and “Oso Pardo, Oso Pardo” (“Brown Bear, Brown Bear”) and “composing” songs like “Mamaw’ll Be Coming down the Driveway When She Comes” thanks to Mommy and the piano. Mamaw is still his best pal, but he also enjoys riding the tractor with Poppy, going to the park with Papaw, and charming the socks off of his aunts and uncles—and he considers it a special treat to take road trips to visit out-of-town cousins and grandparents (especially when the road trips involve eating snacks!) He is also getting practice at making new friends at Kindermusik and the Child Study Center where he goes twice a week.

In parental news, Lance and Heather have taken up the role as super hero duo “Surf and Turf.” Earlier this year, Lance joined the Navy as a reserve physician, and he begins officer training later this month, from which he will emerge a genuine lieutenant commander (“Lew-ten-unt Lay-unce”). He will be in the active reserves for three years and will drill monthly with the local Marines and work at a Naval hospital for two-weeks out of the year. And because he now works at the VA, he can take “military leave” time rather than vacation. When not doctoring, he enjoys teaching Thomas Spanish and construction skills (aka playing with Daddy’s BIG Tinker Toys)”

In her role as “Turf,” Heather performs KP and Diaper (stall, coop, etc) Duty for the hungry beasts and beast-lings on the farm, seeks the magic cure for tomato blight, plays violin in the local symphony, and volunteers in the community. She recently received a grant for Exchange Place Historic Site to develop a series of Heritage Day Camps, and along with three other ladies, she founded an open-hearth cooking guild and has been enjoying trying her hand at such forgotten culinary delights as Carolina Snowballs and Green Frog Soup (neither snow nor frogs required).

The animals are all doing well, though some of them like Billy (goat) and Beaker (cat) don’t have quite the same spunk they used to. In poultry news, we have a new pet chicken—Goldie—who came with 25 other chicks from the hatchery, and a new rooster—Goldo the Third— who was hatched out by our broody hen Peach. (Peach also raised a clutch of guineas after Heather “rescued” the eggs from the mama guinea’s nest in the honeysuckle. It may sound like robbery to you, but a guinea hen sitting on a nest in the wild might as well hold up a sign that says, “Free Meal for Coyote.”)

And alas, we cannot forget to mention the “gift that keeps giving” (us bills to pay): our old house. The Eternal Restoration officially ended last April with the departure of our contractor, Mike; but like Audrey, the carnivorous plant in Little Shop of Horrors, our house continues to shout: “FEED ME! More caulk! More paint! More bug spray!” For all of our extracted pounds of flesh, though, we did receive a regional award for Excellence in Preservation. And after spending last Christmas with the jingle bells of fire alarms going off, we have finally gotten the large cooking fireplace in the cabin to draw (by drilling a fresh air vent)—and Heather at last got to roast a turkey in her reflector oven for Christmas. So, from our (fully functioning) hearth to yours, here’s hoping you got the large piece of the wishbone and all your wishes for the new year come true!

Thomas at Two

2011-11-24T17:59:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, Thomas turned 2 on November 4. And as many of you parents know, toddlers are quite the little chameleons: charming one minute and "terrible" the next. From showering us with good morning kisses to frying Lance's keys in the microwave, Thomas seems to be experimenting with his own version of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Come on Dr. J, we're rooting for you!

Highlights from the past year and glimpses of Thomas today:

--He learned to walk! (and run and pounce and climb, etc.)

--He said "goodbye" to Mommy's milk and "HELLO!" to raw cow's milk

--He sleeps completely through the night (with his collection of pillows, blankets, and menagerie of furry friends like Jake the Gray Rat, Snowflake the White Rat, and Rocky, the Raccoon, aka "My Baby!")

--He speaks in phrases and occasionally complete sentences. ("That. That. Thomas have that!" and "Push...that...button" are currently his favorite phrases.)

--He discovered cell phones (Mommy: SIGH)

--He learned that Puff the Magic Dragon lives in Honalee.

--He is competent with a screwdriver.

--His favorite color is orange or "anaranjado." (And no, we don't take this as a sign that he will be a UT Vols fan. )

--His favorite singer is Barbra Streisand. (This is particularly interesting because when I was his age, I made my mother "play Barbra" for me before I went to sleep at night. Now, when Thomas goes over to Mamaw's, he immediately asks to "watch Barbra" (a concert that Mom DVR-ed).

--His favorite song is "Mamaw Driveway Sing" ("Mamaw'll Be Coming down the Driveway when She Comes")

--His favorite train is Molly (not Thomas!)

--His favorite food: tomatoes ("matos"), which are good for the soul but bad for the butt (they cause horrible diaper rash)...and he loves cake, as is evident in the photos from his birthday party!

Beaker gets a crown too!

Helping Mamaw cut the cake

Yum, cake!

Caramel face

Opening Papaw's gift

Fireman boots from Papaw!

Happy Halloween!

2011-11-02T10:49:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures from this year's Halloween Frolic at Walnut Grove.

"Aerial" view of guests and the apple cider cauldron

Lance serving the apple cider

Decorations in the gathering room

"Brains of Literary Geniuses"

Aunt Betty escorts Thomas, a "very hungry caterpillar"

Thomas on Mamaw's lap

The Garza-Snell family as fairy tale characters

(Beware of Luca, the Fierce Dragon!)

The Childress family as the Who's (and happy Grinch)

The McCalman family as "superstitious peasants" and "pet werewolf"

Silas the Bee getting a ride on Erek's shoulders

(pollination is a very exhausting job, you know)

The Harringtons as June and Ward Cleaver

Lonnie the Gypsy

Uncle "Shoe" carving a pumpkin for Thomas

The Paine family carving their cucurbit masterpieces

Dante admires his Jack-o-Lantern

Leaf Day

2011-10-29T12:49:00.001-07:00

Last week, Thomas and I made our annual pilgrimage to Mamaw's to collect leaves for the compost pile. (Now, you would think with all the trees we have on our farm, we would not have to go looking for leaves somewhere else, but since our trees are in woods with heavy undergrowth, the fallen leaves are very difficult to gather. I tried that one year, and after spending an hour scraping about on the forest floor only to glean enough leaf matter to make one teaspoon of compost, I decided that I had better look elsewhere for them...and get moving on planting trees in our lawn so that we would have "leaf insurance" for the future.) Of course, Thomas doesn't have enough frontal cortex yet to understand plant decomposition or planning for the future, but he sure did have fun playing in the leaves!

Fun in the Kitchen

2011-10-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

Here are some recent pictures of Thomas washing dishes with Mamaw and "playing playdough" with Puff (the Magic Dragon). (Of course, Mamaw and Puff make playtime so much more fun!)

Thomas and Toad Are Friends

2011-09-09T06:10:00.000-07:00

The other day when we were exploring outdoors, we found a toad crouching in the cool shadows of the woodshed. What a beautiful chap he was, with yellow eyes and speckled warts, and we just had to introduce ourselves. We played with him long enough for a photo shoot, and then we returned him to his dark quarters. Luckily, Thomas's cousins, Reese and Jackson were here to get some toad time too.

Farm to Family

2011-07-22T07:54:00.001-07:00

About six months ago, when Thomas was beginning to wean from me, I started doing research on the health benefits of raw milk, especially for children. Combining that research with the observation of how healthy my mother, father, aunts, and uncles--who were all raised on raw milk--are, I decided to forgo pasteurized milk altogether and switch Thomas directly over to raw milk, or "the magic elixer," as Lance calls it. Although I have always wanted my own Jersey cow, I concluded that now was not the time to take on such a responsibility at Walnut Grove, especially since my mother has drawn the line at milking a cow. ("I'll feed the chickens, goats, and horses, when you're away, but I'm NOT milking a cow!") Okay, fair deal. So, I found a local "milk group," who gets raw milk from a small family farm in Abingdon Virginia--the Templeton Family Farm. Since it is technically illegal to sell raw milk in TN or VA, members of the milk group buy shares in the cow herd and pay the Templetons to board, feed, and milk the herd. They store the milk at their farm, and we pick it up once a week. Recently, on one of my pick up days, Thomas and I scheduled a tour of the farm and a "meet and greet" with the cows. His friend, Anna, and her mother, Inge, tagged along for the adventure.

And for those of you who are wondering...Thomas LOVES raw milk, and he has not shown even the slightest signs of having digestive complications from it. As soon as he started drinking it, he weaned completely from me. Needless to say, I cannot compete with a Jersey cow!

(Heading to meet the cows)

(Look, a cow!)

(The herd, including Stumpy, Meadow, and Bessie)

(Thomas and the cows)

(Thomas and the rock that was more interesting than the cows)

(The calves, including Lily and Thunderbolt)

(Cotton, the watch dog)

(Ribeye, the bull calf, who may or may not stay "intact")

(Pumpkin, the barn cat)

(Rodeo, the pony)

(Solomon, the bunny)

Hike with "Aunt" Betsy

2011-07-22T06:27:00.001-07:00

Last summer, my friend Betsy (who used to teach with me at ETSU), called me up and said, "Wanna go on a hike?" Excited to get Thomas into the wilderness, I said, "Sure!" So, we packed up and drove to the trailhead of Laurel Falls in Hampton, TN. Starting out, we both thought that the trail was smooth enough to accommodate a stroller and that the round-trip distance was around 3 miles. After walking about 100 yards on the trail, it was clear that no stroller was going to make it far across the bumpy, rocky, ground, so we turned around. At this point, I decided that I could carry Thomas, who was 9 months old and about 20 pounds at the time, for three miles. (Lord, women trekked cross-country with kids hanging all over them in the "olden days," right?) So, turning to my inner woodland Indian, I stuffed a couple of extra diapers in my purse, settled Thomas on my hip, and we headed out again. About a mile in, we saw the trail sign: "Laurel Falls 2 miles." Um, 2 miles? Yep. We re-evaluated. Could I carry Thomas SIX MILES? I was determined. Hail, pioneer woman! We kept going, over boulder, bridge, and lob-lolly, keeping Thomas amused with various hiking sticks, until we came to our prize...a beautiful waterfall tucked into the Appalachian Mountains. We sat, we snacked (on meager rations), and we dipped Thomas's toes into the chilly water. Then, we trekked back to the car, and we made it back without succumbing to de-hydration, exhaustion, or wild animal. Pocohantas! Oregon Trail Wife! English Teachers!

Afterwards, Betsy and I agreed that we should make a hike to Laurel Falls a yearly tradition.

And we did.

Last week, we hiked the trail again, with our friend Bridget's (another English teacher) kids Leah and Samuel tagging along. This time, though, we were less ambitious and more prepared. I lugged Thomas on my back in the invaluable "Deuter" child backpack; we packed plenty of food and water; and we decided to cut the hike in half. So, about 1.5 miles in, we found a comfortable spot by the creek and made our "camp." Thomas and Samuel spent some quality time splashing around in the creek, throwing rocks and sand, and sitting quietly in the current, contemplating life according to boys; while Leah, Betsy, and I talked about Harry Potter, Twilight, and how to understand life according to boys.

I'm already getting excited about next year...

Pictures from last year's hike...

Pictures from this year's hike...

Fun with the Cousins

2011-07-22T06:06:00.000-07:00

It is always an adventure when family visits the farm, perhaps most of all when cousins visit! Take a look at all the fun Thomas had with his cousins, Jackson and Reese, last week...

Posing with Ollie:

(Jackson)

(Reese)

Strolling around in the wagon...

Cutting "vegetables" on the porch...

(Watch out! Don't cut Daddy's toes!)

Fun with the water hose...

A Wheelbarrow Full of Books!

2011-07-15T10:12:00.000-07:00

Recently, Thomas received a very special gift: a wheelbarrow of books from Aunt "Jussie" and Uncle Bob! Of course, we had fun reading about Sal's blueberries, the little fireman, and the big blue octopus, but the best part was piling the books in the wheelbarrow and dumping them out...over and over and over again!

For those of you who don't know, Aunt "Jussie" and Uncle Bob are two of my very favorite people. Joyce--dubbed "Jussie" by me before I had mastered certain language skills--is my mother's sister, and Bob is her husband. They have owned and operated Haggle Shop Antiques in downtown Kingsport for over 40 years, and they have worked tirelessly to promote historic preservation, small businesses, and community values in their hometown. When I was young, I spent many days and nights at their house watching movies that Uncle Bob had taped on his VCR (I still cherish the copies of "Gone with the Wind," "The Blue and the Gray," and "North and South" that he made just for me!); drinking hot tea with extra milk made by Aunt Jussie to perk me up in the morning (always a challenge); helping them refinish furniture in their driveway (I can still smell the stripper!); and "loving" (more like "pestering") their gray tabby cat, Fluffy, (God rest her soul, I don't think she ever forgave me for pouring a bottle of lotion on her fur). And needless to say, they always gave good presents like jadeite bowls and home-taped miniseries and BOOKS. And love.

There is no doubt that Aunt Jussie and Uncle Bob shaped who I am today. In fact, if you ask my mother, she'll say I'm more like them than her...antiques, old movies, hot tea, cats...I think she's right! And don't be surprised in a few years to find Thomas curled up on the couch, Ollie cat in lap and steaming cup of tea in hand, watching Scarlet O'Hara shaking a radish at the world and pronouncing that she'll "never be hungry again!"

Apples to Manzanas!

2011-07-04T20:42:00.000-07:00

I thought I would let all you language lovers out there know that Thomas has been making connections right and left between Spanish and English this month. When asked to point to "la luna," Thomas will find the moon and say, "moon!" When hearing the word "perro" (dog), he exclaims, "Chucha!" This one will take some explaining: Chucha is a black Chihuahua who belongs to Jose, a local Mexican man we hire to help out with odd jobs on the farm. This past week, we have been cleaning out our back barn, and Jose has been hauling off scrap metal for us. He brings Chucha every day. (As I understand it, "Chucha" is not a very flattering word; it means something like "little bitch come here!" in Spanish. So, we should probably nip that name in the bud before Thomas gets too accustomed to it--and subsequently gets smacked by a senorita he is trying to woo.)

And today, out of the blue, when Lance said "manzana" at breakfast, Thomas piped with conviction and gusto, "apple!" All day, our household has been full of "manzana-apple" banter, for in the words of Jose, "HE UNDERSTANDS, HE UNDERSTANDS!"

P.S. Music-lovers, don't despair. Spanish isn't the only "language" Thomas knows. He still can't pick out a melody on the piano, but Mommy's singing ("Feed the Birds," "My Favorite Things," and various and sundry Appalachian murder ballads--yes, you know I have to stay true to my roots!) is the most sure-fire way to get the little buck-a-roo to sleep at night. Dulces suenos.

Family Ties

2011-06-12T11:13:00.000-07:00

In honor of Mother's Day, Father's Day, and all the other days celebrating families, here are some recent pictures of Thomas with his grandparents--and great grandparent! These pictures document a lot of "firsts" for Thomas too--first time wearing sunglasses, first time in a swing (AND on a swinging bridge), first time in the sand, and first time in a pool!

Sha la la la....

Reading The Very Quiet Cricket with Mamaw:

Being "cool" with Mamaw in his new sunglasses:

Visiting Grandpa Chase and aunts, uncles, and cousins in Florida:

(Playing with Grandpa Chase's singing elephant..."I feel good!")

(Fish kiss!)

(I LOVE the pool!)

(

(...and the sand!)

(Christopher Columbus stance)

(Sand Pilates)

A Day with Papaw at Riverfront Park

(This was a favorite spot for Papaw to take Mommy when she was little girl.

Then and now---watch out for the goose poop!)

(High five!)

(Chasing the geese...just like Mommy used to do)

(Swinging and playing in the sand...just like Mommy used to do)

(Having fun on the swinging bridge...just like Mommy used to do)

(hold on!)

AND...

smelling Papaw's roses...

...just like Mommy used to do!

Happy Easter, Dinosaur Pup!

2011-04-24T16:47:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter, Everyone! First of all, let me explain the "dinosaur pup" thing. Don't worry, Lance and I haven't joined some cult whose representative Easter animal is a baby dinosaur. No, "dinosaur pup" is what we call Thomas when he wears a shirt with a dinosaur skeleton on it (you'll see this shirt in pictures below). Now for this year's Easter news: If you recall, last Easter, Thomas tried to eat his Easter basket. This year, he actually understood that he was supposed to put eggs in it! (Though he got a little excited and broke a few in it...hmm...perhaps I should just embrace plastic for a few years and forgo the antique oak baskets...WWMD...What would Martha Stewart Do? Stay tuned for next year's blog to see my decision!) In these pictures, you'll see Thomas finding eggs at our friend Joy's annual Easter Egg Hunt. Her farm is just a few miles from ours, and she too has a menagerie of furry and feathered beasts, my favorite of which is the "big red mule." You'll also see him taunting Buffy (the Earthworm Slayer), our broody hen who hatched out four little chicks just in time for Easter! Thomas dabbled at playing the part of the fierce dinosaur pup, but luckily for Buffy, he found more amusement in playing in her food and water than pursuing her chicks!

Yes, in, in in!

The big red mule

Buffy protecting her chicks from Thomas, the fierce Dinosaur Pup

Don't get too close!

Raar! The fierce dinosaur pup has stolen an egg!

A better shot of the dinosaur pup and his basket.

Buffy and her chicks

Play Date on the Farm

2011-04-10T18:11:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, Thomas's Kindermusik friend, Anna, came out to the farm for a play date. While waving his "magic maraca," Thomas introduced Anna to all the animals, and Anna proceeded to tell him how they sound. (Chickens go "bak bak," cats go "meow," and horses go "moo"!) The whole time, the bees were buzzing and the birds were chirping, but I think we're all thankful that we don't have to have THAT conversation for a few years! For now, we'll just enjoy the simple pleasures of childhood like good cats, magic maracas, and afternoon naps.

Thomas (with the magic maraca) and Anna in the barn.

Ollie being a good sport.

Dandelions and a good cat!

He IS friendly!

Look at my magic maraca, Ollie!

Mmm...boogers!

Running around with the maraca.

Ruby and Anna.

Horse kisses!

Buy a new friend and sell the old. One is silver and the other green.

2011-03-06T11:20:00.000-08:00

For the last 11 years I have had a trusty friend named "The Klostervagon." She is a rare 1996 Honda Accord Wagon that I recently broke 200,000 miles on last month. Over the past year I had invested more than $1300 trying to keep her alive and safe. Although I had hoped to put another 50-100K on her, I saw the writing on the wall and decided it was time to invest in something new. So this past week I sold the 'vagon and picked up a 2011 Honda Insight Hybrid I call the "Silver Bullet". I miss my old trusty friend, but the Silver Bullet is averaging about 50 miles per gallon and fun to drive too.

Just moments before the 200,000 mark

(Notice the check engine light I have been ignoring for quite some time now)

The Klostervagon and family the day before she was sold

My new "Silver Bullet."

Best Buds

2011-02-16T12:56:00.000-08:00

Our good friends Erin and Roberto visited last weekend with their darling 6-month-old son, Luca, and their sweet dog, Phoebe (I forgive you for peeing on the couch!). As expected, Thomas was jealous at first, pawing at our legs and burying his head in our crotches when we were holding Luca, but eventually, he settled into having another little duder around. In fact, he became quite mature about the whole thing, giving Luca kisses and bringing him toys like the cool multi-colored sock monkey. As a reward, "Tio Roberto" read him his favorite Eric Carle books in Spanish!

Hanging out in the pjs.

Not-so-still life with babies, daddies, and dog

There is...another...Sky...walk...errrr

2011-02-02T18:12:00.000-08:00

And watch out for his powerful spoon saber!

"Please, No, Don't Turn Me into a Meat Pie!"

2011-01-25T11:31:00.000-08:00

We took Thomas to Lance's barber, Daniel, for the first time today. The outing started out well enough, but at some point between admiring the many mullet styles Daniel had to offer and sitting in the big black chair, Thomas realized that Daniel was really "The Demon Barber of Gray, TN"!

"I like that one, Mamaw."

(Are you sure you don't want #24?)

"Daddy's smiling. This can't be too bad, right?"

"Um, you want me to wear that bloody red cloak?"

"Hmm. Maybe I look good in red."

"Okay, I've had enough. Thank you."

Sniff. Sniff. "I smell meat pies cooking in the back...no please, I don't like gravy!"

"O Lord, don't you have some chickens you can butcher instead?!"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"Whew. Mommy saved me."

What Thomas Does on a Snowy Day...

2011-01-11T08:32:00.000-08:00

Mommy says the weather outside is frightful. Hmm...Should I make a snowman? Build a snow fort? Explore the snowy woods? Make hot chocolate?

NO!!!!

I'll get a head start on potty training...

and re-enact Mommy and Daddy's favorite movie

"Where's the money, Lebowski?"

"Where's the %#$ money, #$^%&?"

"It's uh... uh... it's down there somewhere, let me take another look."

"Found it!"

The Twelve Days of Christmas (Really!)

2011-01-01T16:22:00.000-08:00

In honor of the BUSIEST Christmas ever, Thomas offers his own version of a favorite seasonal tune:

ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A YULE LOG CEREMONY (at Exchange Place)

(Here, the yule log burns away the sorrows and sins of the previous year and sparks good luck and fertility for the next...or at least that's what Mommy told me.)

(Mommy cooked on the hearth all day; Daddy, Mamaw, and I joined her for the closing ceremony: burning the yule log, caroling, and sipping on some special recipe wassail (Note to Mommy: Don't make wassail in a tarnished copper kettle!)

ON THE SECOND DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A KINDERMUSIK PARTY

(Here are all my Kindermusik friends)

("Your belly's not fat enough, Santa!")

ON THE THIRD DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

AN ORGANIC CHRISTMAS TREE

(Here we are with our friend, Curtis.

He makes chairs and also owns an organic Christmas tree farm.)

(Daddy wields his mighty pruning saw!)

ON THE FOURTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

HANDMADE AND FAMILY HEIRLOOM CHRISTMAS ORNAMENTS

(Here I am helping Mamaw hang the Christmas elf

that belonged to her mother)

(Here I am hanging "El Raton,"

the mouse ornament Daddy made for me last year)

(Here are two miniature baskets,

made of white oak by George McCollum of Athens TN.

Mommy says they make beautiful Christmas ornaments;

I say they make perfect jelly bean holders!)

ON THE FIFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A PHILLIPS FAMILY CHRISTMAS

(Here I am with all my relatives from Poppy's side of the family.

Standing, L-R: Aunt Bobbie, Uncle Shane, Cousin Jackson, Poppy, Daddy;

Sitting, L-R: Mamaw and Cousin Reese, Granddad, Mommy and me)

ON THE SIXTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A KLOSTERMAN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

(Daddy's family visited the week before Christmas. We had a great time, but Mommy's dreams of a hearth-cooked turkey went up in smoke, literally. Mommy and Daddy had everything ready: a freshly butchered heritage breed Narrangasett turkey, tin reflector oven, seasoned oak firewood, and a beautiful pair of andirons, newly made by our blacksmith friend, Jamie Tyree--but the fireplace wouldn't cooperate. After setting off the smoke alarm, they finally decided to roast the bird the "old-fashioned way" (as Mommy says)--in the oven. I don't really care for turkey, so I didn't know the difference. My favorite was the cranberry sauce, which Mommy made in her antique yellowware mold! In the picture: From L-R: Grandpa Klosterman, Mommy and me, Daddy, Cousin Chase, a very enthusiastic Cousin Carstyn, Aunt Michelle, Uncle Brad, Aunt Kim, Cousin Olivia, Cousin Rae, Uncle Scott, and Grandma Lynne.)

ON THE SEVENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A PAIR OF CHRISTMAS PAJAMAS

(Here my cousins and I are in our matching pj's from Grandma Lynne.

We got fuzzy socks too!)

ON THE EIGHTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A NASTY VIRAL RASH (Mommy got it too)

(But it didn't stop us from opening gifts!)

ON THE NINTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A BOWL OF YUMMY APPLES AT AUNT JUSSIE'S

(Here I am talking apples with my cousin, Cooper)

("Hey Cooper, maybe we'll have the candy instead!")

ON THE TENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

NESTING TIME WITH BEAKER

(Mommy says this is good for the soul.)

ON THE ELEVENTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

A SET OF PRESIDENTIAL BLOCKS

(Wait a minute! Those are James Madison's birth and death dates, not Thomas Jefferson's! Mommy had to order a new set of blocks.)

(But I got a really cool Buffalo drum to make up for the dud blocks.)

ON THE TWELFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TWOO WUV GAVE TO ME...

PLAY TIME WITH PAPAW J.D.

(Hey! That train's name is Thomas too!)

And that's all folks...Whew, I'm tired!

Birthday at Mamaw's

2010-11-14T20:50:00.000-08:00

Here are some pictures from Thomas's birthday party at Mamaw's. Cake and presents...mmm.

(Do I REALLY get to eat this?!?!)

(Oops, that's not Thomas! But look at that cool Sesame Street cake!)

(Yay for birthday cake!)

(Ooh, what's in there?!?!)

(Reading the card from aunt Kim and cousin Olivia)

(Playing with the farm puzzle from Grandma and Grandpa Klosterman)

(Crashing the cymbals!)

(Klosterman Family Band!)

Thomas Appleseed

2010-11-14T19:50:00.001-08:00

As many of you know, November is a big month for Thomas...his birthday is on the 4th! Here at Walnut Grove, we commemorated the occasion by planting two heirloom apple trees, a "Virginia Beauty," and a "Spitzenburg" (Thomas Jefferson's favorite variety). "Virginia Beauty's" are fairly common (I bought this one from a charming old farmer who sells his trees at Exchange Place festivals); but "Spitzenburgs" are a little harder to come by. Luckily for us, there is a wonderful heirloom apple nursery just up the road in Bristol, TN. So, I reserved a tree, and Thomas and I trekked up there one day to pick it up. After driving around in circles as our Garmen GPS system--affectionately known as "La Mujer en la Caja" or "The Lady in the Box"--spouted "recalculating" like a broken Stepford wife, we finally found the nursery. (All the while, I was preparing my argument for a return to horse-drawn transportation; after all, horses LOVE apples, and would have certainly led us right to the place!). Anyway, after a rather hectic trip to the nursery, we came home and planted the trees sans help from a lady in a box. It was a crisp, sunny day, and Thomas enjoyed himself immensely...apparently not realizing that he is going to have to help prune these trees every year, nor seeming to regret that he wasn't getting Legos for his birthday. He even donned the very special apple hat that one of my mother's friends knitted for him to wear at Halloween. Up to that point, he had absolutely refused to keep it on his head, but this time we tricked him by holding his hands by his side and singing a very peppy version of "I've Been Working on the Railroad" to distract him. Sucker!

(Walking to the Spitzenburg...with help from Mamaw)

(Crawling in the grass)

(Family photo by the Spitzenburg)

(Thomas chomping down on an apple from our old apple tree)

(No apple is too large for my mouth!)

And finally:

A love for apples must run in the family...

(This is me, about 15 months old, enjoying a June apple at my aunt and uncle's house)

Is Obama Really Amish?

2010-11-03T16:19:00.000-07:00

Once again, the Gilreath/Klosterman family (this time with Thomas and Mamaw in tow) traveled to our nation's capital to share body heat and really bad pizza with our fellow Americans. Luckily, this time, we didn't need the body heat to beat sub-zero temperatures, and we weren't stepping on quite so many toes to get to the really bad pizza. Still, though, it felt pretty much like swimming around in a big can of sardines. Sound insane? Well, Fox News would like to think so. But 215,000 sardines carrying witty signs and eating really bad pizza is a mighty force to reckon with. Too bad we like to waste so much time on reason and compromise (which, if you've studied the proceedings of the Second Continental Congress, you know is as much a part of this nation's founding as war and revolution.)

Thomas did splendidly at the rally, taking turns clapping and napping and charming our "neighbors." He even ate some of the really bad pizza.

(Thomas on the Metro)

(Clap for Sanity!)

(Whatcha looking at, Dad?)

(Thomas and Mommy)

(I'm a free thinker. Got a problem with that?)

(Even reasonable people take naps)

And don't forget...

Some more signs...

(But it's so fun...)

(Or in other words..."I like tea, and you're ruining it for me.")

(sponsored by the national "Eat a Carrot a Day" organization)

(Good grammar costs nothing!)

(especially Brie)

(Let's hope this woman doesn't get thrown in jail and hanged by her thumbs for such radical ideology)

And finally, did you know...

RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!!

Stroller Buds

2010-10-01T12:29:00.001-07:00

It was such a pretty day today that Thomas and I decided to take a stroll to the mailbox. Guess who wanted to go too!

T

Klosterman Invasion

2010-10-01T12:02:00.001-07:00

We had a full house last weekend here at Walnut Grove Farm. Lance's brother, sister-in-law, nieces, nephew, sister, and mother all came down for a family get-together. From planting "magic" beans, to cooking on the hearth at Exchange Place, to being entertained by Flashy the Flashlight before camping in the orchard (sorry, we don't have any pictures of Flashy!), the days were filled with much activity and merry making! Here are some pictures from the "Klosterman Invasion." : )

(The three most beautiful beans)

(Carstyn in the bean teepee)

(Watering the beans with a thumbpot)

(Snacking on kettle corn at Exchange Place's Fall Festival)

(I love Exchange Place, Mommy!)

(Chase and Chance)

(Carstyn examines the chestnut burr while Aunt Heather cuts up the game hen)

(Rae listens as Aunt Heather explain what a hoecake is)

(Big Okra)

(Learning to use a drop spindle)

(Having fun in the spring house)

(Hold on, Rae!)

(Giving Princess a scratch)

New skills!

2010-09-11T15:31:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to give everyone their requested Thomas update. He is progressing along . . . and so are we. Last week we had a great visit with the Erin, Roberto and baby Luca. Thomas can't wait to go back and hang out with his new amigo.

Check out these two videos of Thomas standing and doing the "army crawl".

-Lance

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery

2010-08-23T17:33:00.000-07:00

The lessons are not only at Kindermusik. This is an example of the supplemental lessons we have with Thomas at home.
-Lance

La La La La Lemon!

2010-08-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

Thomas and I started Kindermusik classes a couple of weeks ago, and so far, they are a big hit! Thomas enjoys spending time with his new friends Anna, Vishnu, Mohoko, Clara, Piper, and Liam as well as "playing" (well, mostly chewing on) the instruments. No signs of musical genius yet, but Mozart didn't start composing until he was four...so there's still time!

I LOVE KINDERMUSIK!

Look Closely...

2010-08-12T18:09:00.000-07:00

Do you see them? Two pearly whites are lurking in that happy mouth!

Things that go bump in the pantry

2010-08-07T11:32:00.000-07:00

There was a lot of racket going on in the pantry. After a little searching, I found the culprit. Somebody was trying to make off with one of my Clementine Izzes.

-Lance

The Adventures of Radio Flyer

2010-07-28T08:01:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of Thomas's recent adventures including his first ride in his little red wagon (a gift from one of Lance's former co-workers), a visit with cousin Jackson (who is a very good potato digger, by the way), a visit with cousins Carstyn, Chase, and Rae (whom we helped move into a new house), and a 6 mile hike with "Aunt" Betsy (on which Mommy carried him the whole way!)!

(Hold on tight, Thomas!)

(Goofing off in the garden while everyone else is digging potatoes)

(The biggest potato of all!)

(Bee and sunflower)

("Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?"...)

(..."I see two little boys reading to me!")

(With Chase, Rae, and their sweet dog Mica who unfortunately got attacked by a neighbor's dog while we were helping Lance's brother's family move into a new house. She lost a couple of teeth but luckily nothing else. She was such a trooper!)

(Hamming it up at the beginning of the hike)

(Thomas with his "hiking stick" (also chew toy) in front of Laurel Falls.)

Give Peas a Chance

2010-06-15T08:58:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, Thomas got to experience his very first garden peas. It must be a good sign that he likes them because English peas were reportedly Thomas Jefferson's favorite vegetable. Good brain food, let's hope.

(peas in the garden)

(give sweet potatoes a chance too)

Farmers Market Fun

2010-06-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

The Jonesborough Farmers Market opened in May, and Thomas already loves it! (In truth, I think he likes the prospect of being strolled around town more than the prospect of ripe tomatoes. It won't be long, though, before he'll have his very own patch in the garden to grow heirloom vegetables from Monticello...or whatever he likes!)

(trying to grab the sign)

(petting "Betty," one of the market mascots)

Oh, Atlanta!

2010-06-15T08:24:00.000-07:00

(in front of Erin and Roberto's adorable house)

Here are some pictures from our recent trip to Atlanta to visit our dear friends, Erin and Roberto, who are expecting a little boy in August! (Erin and I lived together and taught at the same school for Teach for America; and Roberto was the "mystery person" in the "Froggy Went A'Courtin'" video on the blog). We're all excited to meet little "Snarza" (our nickname for the baby since Roberto's last name is Garza and Erin's is Snell)--but Thomas is most excited of all. He can't wait to play "Country Mouse, City Mouse"!

(being silly)

(on the town)

(ready to go!)

Thomas in the Pen

2010-05-28T06:04:00.000-07:00

Here's a sample of Thomas's mornings. In my opinion, there is a fine line between eating a book and reading. Therefore, it is amazing how my 6 month old is already reading!

Lance

The Last Shovelful

2010-05-02T19:34:00.001-07:00

When we first hired Mike as our contractor, a colleague of mine at Exchange Place, who had recently worked with him on a restoration project, warned me and Lance: "Mike will move a mountain but leave the last shovelful." Well, this project has certainly been a mountain (quite an uphill battle), and it took a bit of teeth pulling to get him to move that last shovelful, but it happened, in the form of some brick pavers and touch-up paint, on April 9, 2010--exactly four years and three months after he scooped up the first shovelful on January 9, 2006. Every weekday during that time--except Thanksgiving, Christmas, and two weeks in July--Mike chipped away at Mount Walnut Grove (perhaps Mount Frankenstein would be a more appropriate term?). He went through several helpers and even more saw blades, but he stuck it out till the end. We're certainly glad to be living in a house rather than a construction zone, and I'm sure Mike is even happier not to have to follow my infamous lists anymore. But mostly, I think we're all glad to have made it out alive. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? Let's hope. If so, maybe we'll tackle world peace next. Or maybe we'll just take Thomas on a walk in the back field.

Almost 6 months!

2010-04-26T16:45:00.001-07:00

Well, Thomas is almost 6 months now and changes everyday. He started with solid food about 2 weeks ago and solid poos a few days ago. He really seems to enjoy sweet potatoes once or twice a day. Unfortunately, his independent nature does not really allow us to feed him. He really likes to take control of the spoon.

His right eye is slowly getting better although I had hoped it would have been resolved by now. If his tear duct doesn't open up before the end of June, he has an appointment at Cincinnati Children's.

Attached with this entry are a couple of photos, one with Papaw JD. I am embedding a short video I shot this evening as well.

Thanks,
Lance

First Easter: "Please Don't Eat the Basket!"

2010-04-04T15:36:00.000-07:00

Today was a big day for Thomas: It was his first Easter AND his five-month birthday...and boy, was he excited! He couldn't wait to "sample" the Easter basket that Mom and I had filled with fresh eggs, daffodils, free-trade vegetable rattles knitted by women in Peru and a not-so-free-trade Peter Rabbit stuffed animal made in China. As soon as we sat him on the quilt for the photo shoot, Thomas pounced on the basket--no doubt thinking it was a giant teether--and started gnawing intently on the handle and reaching for the daffodils. But apparently, aged oak and yellow petals aren't as tasty as Mommy's milk (or a chocolate bunny), for the "taste test" did last long; and it's a good thing because the basket is a treasured antique given to me by my Aunt "Jussie" several years ago.

Of course, our little inquisitive black cat, Ollie, had to be a part of the festivities. Not long after we had begun taking pictures, he trotted up from the orchard, sniffed Thomas's basket, stretched out on the quilt, and began purring contentedly. Anyone who knows me knows that I can't resist the opportunity to kiss a cat. As soon as I stuck my nose in Ollie's fur, I realized that he had just been sprayed by a skunk! Why couldn't he have chased the Easter Bunny instead?!

P.S. Clothing provided by "Aunt" Erin and "Uncle" Roberto, who are expecting a little boy in August!

First Bite: "Rice, It's What's for Dinner"

2010-03-22T16:57:00.001-07:00

The other night while Lance and I were eating dinner, Thomas grabbed Lance's spoon and shoved it in his mouth. He proceeded to gnaw and lick it in a most ravenous fashion. In the days leading up to the "spoon incident," we had noticed him glaring at us with curious eyes (and open mouth) while we ate. It was obvious to us that he was craving "grown-up" food, so we broke the La Leche League's cardinal rule of "No Solid Foods Until 6 Months!" and made him some rice cereal. Though still a rookie, he seems nonetheless intent on becoming a pro at eating like Mommy and Daddy. In the meantime, I will have to get used to rice cereal as a decoration for my kitchen table and floor!

First Haircut: "Off with the Mullet!"

2010-03-11T14:18:00.000-08:00

After weeks of hoping that his hair would thicken up and even out, Lance and I finally decided to give Thomas his first haircut and trim the shaggy, stringy locks that made him look more like an old Billy Ray Cyrus than a 4 month-old baby. Equipped with his fancy clippers, Lance did the deed while Thomas sat in Mamaw's lap (and I snapped the pictures). The new do comes just in time to give Thomas a burst of self-confidence for his doctor's visit (and more shots) on Monday.

P.S. As is customary, I saved the trimmings, but I resisted turning them into some fanciful creation such as hair jewelry that was all the rage during the Victorian era. (These people would often use the hair from loved ones--both alive and dead--to make jewelry or art. I even saw a family tree made from the hair of all the family members, one of which was exhumed from the grave so that her hair could be harvested for the project. Ugh.) Instead, I found an antique child's tea cup in which to store the memento. It will also make the perfect "house" for a first lost tooth in a few years!

Tummy Time, Part 2

2010-03-02T10:46:00.000-08:00

As an addendum to the previous post, "Tummy Time!," I thought I would post pictures of Lance and me at a similar age in the same position. Whom does Thomas resemble most? You vote!

(Lance)

(Heather)

The Bradleys Visit

2010-02-26T11:40:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, we got a call from Brooke Bradley, whose family used to live in the cabin that we "saved from Wal-Mart." She and her siblings were going to be in town and wanted to visit the farm and see the "finished product." Four years ago, when the restoration was in its infancy and the cabin was still a pile of logs in our back field, they had visited us and shared the story of their great-grandparents who came to east Tennessee with a railroad company and eventually settled near Kingsport after the railroad went bankrupt. In 1892, the couple bought the cabin from the Birdwell family who built it, and it remained in the Bradley family until it was sold to a developer just before we rescued it. The Bradley siblings are intelligent and gracious people: Brooke helps run Adirondack camp in New York; her sister Carol and brother Jeff are free-lance writers, living in Montana and Colorado respectively. (Their parents still live in Kingsport.) Though they never lived in the house, they remember visiting their grandparents who lived there. A favorite activity was to dare each other to run past the "spooky" old pictures of their great-grandparents that hung near the staircase. It was a bit like spending the night in a haunted house, they recalled. Though no doubt still filled with spirits, gladly the house doesn't seem as sinister now!

Tummy Time!

2010-02-26T09:47:00.000-08:00

It's amazing what babies can accomplish when you're not watching. This morning, I went into the nursery to check on Thomas, who was supposed to be napping. Instead, he was practicing for the Olympic gold medal in crawling--with his "coach," Octavio, the blue-jay. Time to baby-proof the house!

First Flight

2010-02-26T08:07:00.000-08:00

(at the airport)

In early February, Thomas took his first plane trip(!)--to sunny Florida to visit Lance's family. Mamaw Brenda dropped us off at the airport on Saturday morning, and from there we flew to Charlotte and then on to Jacksonville where Grandma Klosterman picked us up. The flights went smoothly: I breastfed Thomas during the ascents and descents, and he slept most of the rest of time. When we got to Florida, we had to adjust to warmer weather and no snow, but we quickly became accustomed to wearing t-shirts and tennis shoes (rather than mud boots!) We spent Saturday night with Lance's parents and then took the whirlwind tour, stopping next in Gainesville to visit Uncle Brad, Aunt Michelle, and cousins Carstyn, Chase, and Rae, who greeted us with much love and enthusiasm. Chase is especially excited to have another boy in the family and has already begun "pen-paling" with Thomas. After being thoroughly entertained by the cousins, we drove to Lake Placid to see Lance's grandfather and aunt and uncle. (Thomas makes great-grandchild #15 for Grandpa Chase!) There, we had our obligatory meal at Schooni's, a local diner, and played with cousins Gabe, Landon, and Ellie.

After all the meeting and greeting, we drove back to Jacksonville where Lance saw me and Thomas off. (Lance was staying a few extra days for a radiology conference). I had a long talk with Thomas before boarding about cooperating with Mommy and being respectful to the nice people on the plane. Apparently, the words went in one ear and out the other: Before take-off on the first flight, Thomas grinned at me and had a "blowout" (our term for a big poop). Luckily, the stewardess held the plane while I changed Thomas's diaper and outfit in the cramped 2X2 bathroom. I thought for sure Thomas would fall asleep after emptying out and being cleaned up. Nope. He wanted a snack! So, I breastfeed him again during take-off. Then he went to sleep. Whew...peace for a little while. We de-boarded at Terminal E with no further complications, but soon discovered that our next flight was leaving from Terminal B--all the way across the airport. I was determined not to ride one of those golf carts, so I hiked Thomas up on my hip and took off, taking full advantage of the moving sidewalks. Thomas was quite happy with the brisk walking and over-stimulating atmosphere, so we made it to Terminal B with time to spare. Then, it was time for another talk about being a team player. We boarded the tiny plane and waited. People streamed in one after another (all going to Tri-Cities?). Our "neighbor" was a Mr. Rogers-ly type man. "You're the Lucky Winner," I joked as he stuffed his luggage in the overhead bin, "You get to sit next to the baby!" He chuckled. Lucky indeed. Thomas soon started fidgeting then quickly burst into an all out tantrum. We hadn't even started moving yet! He seemed disinterested in breastfeeding, but I managed to cram his face under my shirt and force-feed him. After much flailing about, he soon went off to sleep. An hour later, right after the captain had turned on the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign in preparation for the descent, Thomas woke up, grinned, and yep, you guessed it...he had another blowout. This time, we couldn't move. People nearby began snarling their noses, and I just froze, trying to hold Thomas as still as possible without "spilling" anything. As soon as I heard the ding signaling that we were stopped, I jumped up and scurried off of the plane. Mamaw was waiting impatiently at the gate, reaching for Thomas. "No, No," I cried, "We've got to go to the bathroom NOW!" We bustled by the other passengers and raced to the changing table. No leakage! Catastrophe averted! But definitely a trip to remember...: )

(asleep on the plane)

(with Grandma Lynne)

(with cousins Chase, Rae, and Carstyn)

(with Grandpa Chase)

Chatting with Thomas

2010-01-24T07:14:00.001-08:00

He is trying to tell us something. I don't think it's bad, though.

-Lance

New Year's Letter 2010

2010-01-17T11:07:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

We hope you had a festive Christmas and are looking forward to a bright future in 2010. When we last left you (at the end of our 2008 Christmas Letter), we were getting ready to head to Washington D.C. for the Inauguration. Turns out that the event was not only a milestone for the nation, but for our family as well—for nine months later on November 4, we welcomed Thomas Jefferson Klosterman to our lives. Though neither feathered, beaked nor hooved (like the other denizens of Walnut Grove), he nevertheless joined the world “bright-eyed and bushy-tailed” and ready to steal our hearts. What was supposed to be a “Little House on the Prairie”-style homebirth, though, turned into a 36-hour drug-induced labor ending in C-section—all because Thomas’s head wouldn’t drop into the birth canal. Having been miserably sick for 42+ weeks, I thought this was a bit of a mean trick, but here’s hoping he spent the extra time growing a big brain and brewing up revolutionary ideals (perhaps drafting a Declaration of Independence from Foreign Oil?).

With me spending most of the year hovering over the toilet or sprawled out on the couch and Lance constantly coaching me to keep hanging on, we had little time or energy for recreational activities. In May, though, we spent a week with Lance’s family, and in August, we visited Monticello. Unfortunately, with temperatures near 100, the pilgrimage to Thomas Jefferson’s home turned into quite a puke-fest. We did, however, take lots of pictures —so Thomas can say he was there in utero.

Needless to say, with Thomas consuming most of our time now, the animals aren’t receiving quite the level of attention they’re used to. Our little black cat, Ollie, seems to be taking it the hardest. Every morning, he jumps up in the kitchen window, presses his nose against the glass, and glares at me, no doubt pining for the long rubs he used to get throughout the day. The horses, chickens, and goats seem fairly content to take care of themselves, though, as long as there are green pastures to graze, manure piles to scratch, and Christmas trees to munch (the latter being the goats’ annual holiday treat).

And for those of you wondering about the house restoration, a subject which has, until this year, dominated most of our holiday letters, here’s the scoop: After four years of constant construction, Mike is scheduled to leave Walnut Grove Farm at the end of January. Though certainly marking the end of a (very long) era, Mike’s departure does not signal that the project is done. We have learned the hard lesson that “done” is not a word in old house owners’ vocabulary. The sounds of first words and first steps will be a pleasant replacement for the banging of hammers and buzzing of saws, however—at least for a little while.

Lastly, a word about our son’s name. Indeed, he was partially named after the enigmatic Founding Father whose life has many lessons to teach—both about greatness and shortcoming. (We hope, for instance, that our Thomas has a bit more financial responsibility than the “Sage of Monticello” who died a slave-holding debtor.) But our Thomas was also named after his maternal great-grandfather, Thomas Jefferson Lockhart, a man who raised nineteen children during the Great Depression, all the while growing his own food and making his own medicines. So whether he becomes a farmer or politician (or both), we hope our son will make a positive influence in the world. He’s already done so in our lives. (Those of you rooting for politician may have the advantage, by the way, for Thomas was conceived during Inauguration week and born during Election week.)

May 2010 be full of promise and blessing for you all.

Christmas Pictures 2009

2010-01-17T10:40:00.000-08:00

For those of you wanting to see how Thomas is growing, here are some pictures from the holidays.

Thomas in front of Mamaw Brenda's Christmas tree.

Thomas and his first Christmas ornament, "El Raton" (The Mouse).

Smiling in Aunt Jussie's arms on Christmas Eve.

Thomas apparently doesn't like to take family Christmas pictures!

Heather's family

Thomas finally meets Aunt Kim (and loves her!)

Thomas's morning activities

2010-01-17T09:13:00.001-08:00

I'm just now getting the hang of this "internets" thing. Here is video of one of Thomas's favorite morning activities (other than pooing).

PS. Don't mind the mexicano in the back.

First Bath

2009-12-16T16:19:00.000-08:00

So begins what will likely be a long line of posts with "first" in the title. Here is a picture of Thomas's first bath in his "Save the Whales" bathtub. He's probably too young to understand the importance of whales, but he sure liked the warm water and Burt's Bees shampoo!

P.S. Notice his very sexy case of baby acne. He looks like a hormone happy teenage boy!

It's cold!

2009-12-12T06:33:00.000-08:00

Everybody kept asking for a picture of Thomas and Dad together. Well, here you go. This is from this morning when it was 16 degrees outside. He liked it!

The hat is Bolivian and a gift from my friend and Spanish tutor. He looks like a little wolf!

Lance

Thomas Meets the Grandparents!

2009-11-13T14:41:00.000-08:00

Enjoy these photos from visits with the grandparents

Papaw JD

Mamaw Brenda and Poppy Bob

Grandma and Grandpa Klosterman

Pics

2009-11-09T07:36:00.000-08:00

A few more pictures of my family. Sorry, I can't help myself. -Lance

First days

2009-11-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

So many of you want to see pictures of little Thomas so I thought I would add a few more.

Mamaw Brenda and her new grandbaby

Thomas the Gnome

There are stars in his crown

First day back to the farm with Mike and Jamie

He's finally here!

2009-11-05T05:25:00.000-08:00

Thomas Jefferson Klosterman arrived 5:36 pm on Wednesday, November 4th weighing 8 lb 13 oz and 22 inches long. He was 2 and a half weeks over due.

We had been waiting quite a long time for the little dude to arrive, knowing that the further along longer he stayed in, the less chance that he would be delivered at home. I decided to go to work Tuesday morning since Heather's exam on Monday with the midwife suggested she had quite a bit further to go before labor. I arrived at work at 6:30 am and was hard at it when the phone call came in at 6:45 that her water broke but she wasn't having contractions. After numerous maneuvers to bring contractions, the midwife advised going to the hospital for induction/augmentation.

In the hosptial Pitocin was administered and she went into strong labor eventually requiring an epidural about 1 am on Wednesday. She weathered active labor for 24 hours but little Thomas's head was just not moving down. Absolutely exhausted she tried to push him out late Wednesday afternoon, but he wouldn't budge.

Heather went to c-section about 5 pm on Wednesday and they popped him out a few minutes later.

Take a look at the pictures. Sorry, but he is definitely the cutest baby my eyes have ever seen.

Thanks for everyone's thought and prayers,
Lance

Happy Independence Day, Thomas Jefferson!

2009-07-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

Sorry to all of you who have been waiting patiently and have gently reminded us to update our blog.

Much has happened in the past few months. Interestingly enough, the least has been the continued work on the farm. One of the cabins is finished inside and out and we are in the process of finishing the larger and older cabin that will contain the master bedroom and sitting room (family room). It looks like we are on target to finish by the end of 2009. Only 2 years behind schedule!

And none too soon . . . the biggest news is that Heather is with child! We are expecting our first born son in mid October. Thomas Jefferson Klosterman will hopefully be delivered here at Walnut Grove, barring any complications. So far, pregnancy has been a tough row to hoe with Heather suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum (severe morning sickness and vomiting requiring continual anti-emetics). She lost about 15 pounds during the first trimester, but she is slowly improving.

Needless to say, we are both excited!

Posted are a few pictures from the farm this Summer. We will certainly try to be more diligent in updating the blog. I hope to update a few more times before Thomas arrives. But given my track record, the next post may actually have a picture of us holding him.

Lance

Dr. Mudd

2009-01-28T07:28:00.000-08:00

The time has finally come to chink and daub the cabin. Here is a picture of Mike (aka "Dr. Mudd," though he assures me he his not harboring any assassins) performing his craft. Historically, cabins were chinked with stones or wood shingles (probably left over from the roof) and daubed, or mudded, with a combination of sand, lime, and sometimes horsehair. Daubing would have to be repaired quite frequently, sometimes completely replaced every year; and it provided little insulation from the cold. Though Lance and I enforce accurate preservation in this project, we made an exception in this case, allowing Mike to use his modernized technique of using wire and fiber insulation as the chinking and adding a bit of latex to the daubing so that it will contract and expand more easily with the logs. In one wall, however, we are going to use the original chinking (wood shingles) saved when the cabin was dismantled. This wall borders the kitchen and will not be exposed to the outside elements.

Other pictures show the progress on the porch and Jamie working on the porch roof.

"A New Era of Responsibility": Inauguration 2009

2009-01-25T15:23:00.000-08:00

In response to requests to comment upon the 50th anniversary of the founding of the United States, Thomas Jefferson, practically on his deathbed, wrote this about "The Declaration of Independence" in 1826: "May it be to the world, what I believe it will be, (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all,) the signal of arousing men to burst the chains under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings and security of self-government... All eyes are opened or opening to the rights of men. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few, booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God. These are grounds of hope for others; for ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them."

Nearly two-hundred years later, on January 20, 2009, we heeded Jefferson's advice to "burst the chains of monkish ignorance" (and arrogance) that have recently bound us and to "assume the blessings of self-government" under a truly brilliant and inspiring leader. On that day, we again broadened our definition of equality and came one step closer to realizing the "self-evident" truths espoused in our most famous founding document. We have much work to do as a country--and a global community--but for now, we can pat ourselves on the back and hope that we made Mr. Jefferson proud.

Tuesday, January 20 was truly an historic day for our country and Heather and I got to experience it first hand. As the last entry explained, a friend from work knew we were excited about our new president and gave us two tickets to the inauguration. We were already planning on going but what a great opportunity to see history being made up close. Well, we were certainly there to see history, but not really up close. As the news has reported, we were two of the 10,000 who had tickets but could not get inside. We made the best of it and walked a mile to the closest jumbo-tron to watch President Obama's inspiring speech.

The inaugural speech was perfect in every way. Without a doubt, it is the craft of a constitutional scholar and a social activist. His oration will be regarded as one of the finest speeches and moments in American history. If any of you have not read it or want to hear it masterfully delivered again, you can do so at this CNN site. It is heartening to have a leader who wants to inspire people to take ownership of their country in "a new era of responsibility."

Just as inspiring were the throngs of people there to participate in the occasion. Everyone was extremely polite and pleasant despite being turned away and the bitter cold. It is amazing how much warmer it is when you are shoulder to shoulder with 2 million other people.

Getting back out of DC was easy and we were only stuck in about an hour of traffic. The best part is we are like local celebrities (among our group of hippy friends) because we were there.

Lance

Photos attached are: 1) crowds at the Washington Monument, 2) self portrait at the spot where we watched the speech, and 3) someone not so happy that Barack Obama is the new commander in chief.

2008-12-27T06:17:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays!

This Christmas letter begins with the answer to a question that Lance and I have been asked multiple times this year: “When are you moving back into the farmhouse?” From close friends and family to neighbors and co-workers, everyone seemed interested in the ETMI (Estimated Time of Move-In)—and the best answer that Lance and I could give was “soon.” Last October, when we moved in with my mother to seek refuge from the messiness of construction, “soon” was “after the holidays.” But spring came, and “soon” had not arrived. Summer was no more promising: when my grandfather moved to Mom’s to recuperate from hip replacement surgery, the whole family was under the same roof at Hotel Brenda. Come fall, we celebrated our 5th anniversary wondering if “soon” would ever come. It did—and at a most appropriate time: Thanksgiving weekend. The week before, our faithful contractor Mike had put the final touches on the original farmhouse and connector addition and sealed it off from the cabin. The house was again livable…and WARM. (One of our favorite new “toys” is the outdoor woodstove that Lance installed over the summer. Now, instead of hovering by the fire, we enjoy a flow of steady, sustainable warm air when the temperature drops.) So, while most Americans were breaking wishbones, Lance and I were breaking open dusty boxes of books (always books!), clothes, and bedding. Then, we packed up Beaker for the two-mile trip back to Walnut Grove. (No doubt, he was already pining for “Mamaw’s” wall-to-wall carpet and generous tuna treats!)

Though we have settled back in, the project is far from complete. Mike is just beginning work on the cabin. Right now, he is building the porch and will soon begin chinking and dobbing the logs. A completed restoration project is the goal for next Christmas. I think we can handle one more year.

This year has not been all about the restoration, though. In February, Lance, Lance’s sister, Kim, and I traveled to Honduras for a two-week medical mission trip. There, in the little mountain village of Yaruca, we joined with other doctors, dentists, nurses, translators, and “general helpers” to provide vitamins, cough syrup, and toothbrushes to the grateful and gracious residents. In preparation, Lance had spent the previous six months learning Spanish, so he would know what to do when a patient exclaimed, “Picazon! Picazon!” (itchy!). I, on the other hand, was content to speak only to the animals!

When we returned from Honduras, I set to work on the garden, which provided us with a bounty of sustenance and satisfaction. We even had enough produce to sell at the local farmer’s market. As always, Mom and I spent many hours canning tomatoes, vegetable soup, salsa, and beans. Now, in the bare winter months, we can be fed by a jar of summer.

A warm house and steaming bowl of homemade soup cannot make up for the companionship of Poe, our “fearless warrior cat” and wisest denizen of Walnut Grove, whom we lost in March. After his annual trip to the vet, he went missing. We searched every inch of the farm, every nook and cranny, every fallen tree, but nothing. Finally, a week later, Mike found him in the attic, where he had burrowed into the insulation, curled up for a long nap—and never woke up. Lance and I had dreamed of the day when we would all be back together again at the farm. But it was not to be.

Alas, the farm continues to be a lesson in love and loss. Not long after losing Poe, we rescued a little black cat, whom we named “Oliver” (“Ollie,” for short). He is quickly filling Poe’s paws as “lord of the manor,” though Pippin, our other barn cat, won’t quite let him wear the crown yet! The chickens too are a bit hesitant to kneel to him since he likes to chase them around the farm and eat their scratch grain (yes, apparently, cats like cracked corn). And as always, Billy, our old goat, and Jezebel, our boss mare, think that they are king and queen of the farm. Lance and I don’t tell any of them that the farm is a democracy, not a monarchy!

As I close out this letter, I would like to look forward to a bright future. 2009 is already full of promise. Lance is planning to continue studying Spanish so he can better serve the Hispanic community in this country and abroad. I have recently taken a job as Educational Coordinator at Exchange Place, the living history museum where I have volunteered for the last few years—so I will be taking a break from teaching at ETSU. I will, however, continue my beloved hobby of playing violin in the local symphony. Even more exciting news is that in January, Lance and I are going to brave the cold and crowds and attend the inauguration of Barack Obama. In a serendipitous twist of fate and through the generosity of a friend, Lance scored two tickets, and we are looking forward to being a part of such a momentous moment in our nation’s history. Washington D.C. is always a stimulating place to visit—a place to learn from our successes…and failures. Let us hope the new president will inspire us all to be more educated, responsible, and compassionate citizens and stewards of the earth.

Wishing you and yours a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy, Healthy New Year!

Here are some current pictures of the restoration project: the new kitchen, the wood stove, and Mike working on the cabin porch.

5th Anniversary Sweet Gum

2008-09-26T08:34:00.000-07:00

In honor of our 5th wedding anniversary, Lance and I planted a native sweet gum tree on the knoll beside the horse barn. As it grows, it will shade the graves of the animals that we have loved and lost and hopefully provide an ideal spot for a summer picnic.

The Dalai Ollie

2008-09-26T08:14:00.000-07:00

If you happen to visit the farm and see a black cat dashing from woods to barn, don't be alarmed: it's not Poe's ghost (though his spirit is very much alive at Walnut Grove). We actually have a new addition to our menagerie. Oliver ("Ollie") came to us via one of my friends at the English Department. At first, we were reluctant to adopt another cat since Poe's death was so fresh in our memory, but as soon as we met Ollie, we knew he belonged on the farm. Strangely enough, he looks and acts very much like Poe, and we like to think that Poe has come back to us in another form--like the Buddha of Compassion who embodies each new Dalai Lama. Unlike Poe, though, who ruled the farm with a reserved wisdom, Ollie takes a more aggressive, even pompous, approach: "herding" the chickens and horses, strong "pawing" Pippin, our other barn cat, and perching on my shoulder while I do my chores. He even does an inspection of Mike's work at the end of the day!

All in the Details

2008-09-26T08:10:00.000-07:00

Not much has changed on the exterior of the house since our last post, but Mike and crew have been working diligently to install kitchen cabinets, interior doors, and window hardware. As soon as the masons finish the massive stone chimney, Mike will smooth out the landscape around the house, plant grass, and install our new cistern.

P.S. Apparently, the Ghost of Kitchen Past is keeping an eagle eye on the project (see orb in photo of ovens). She's no doubt wondering where we're going to put the wood stove.

Mr. Jefferson at Walnut Grove

2008-07-07T10:51:00.000-07:00

Since this is July, the month in which we celebrate the birth of our country, I thought I would offer a tribute to my favorite Founding Father. Many of you know that I am fascinated with Thomas Jefferson (and remain thoroughly convinced that we are somehow related, our mutual relative no doubt having been cast out of the family for some noble act of non-conformism like multi-racial marriage. ha!) While I share many of Jefferson's political views, I most strongly share his fervor for gardening and affection for home and hearth. I admit too, that like Jefferson, I am an idealist. With Walnut Grove, I am doing much what Jefferson did with Monticello--attempting to create a uniquely personal oasis where my aesthetic and ethical values can merge. It seems only fitting, then, that Jefferson's spirit infuse my little utopia: A Twinleaf wildflower ("Jeffersonia diphylla"), a gift from Lance, grows in the woods near the house; bright green peas ramble in the garden in early spring (the English pea was reportedly Jefferson's favorite vegetable); and an occasional deer grazes in the lower meadow at dusk (Jefferson stocked the woods around Monticello with deer for a "picturesque" effect). And next time you visit, you may even see Lance prancing about in britches and silk stockings!

P.S. Lest I seem a too loyal subscriber to the popular WASPM (White, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant, Male) version of history, I would like to say that Abigail Adams perhaps out-shined all of the revolutionary generation. She would have made an excellent president.

The Third Age

2008-05-28T07:11:00.001-07:00

Earlier this month, 40 baby chicks arrived at Walnut Grove from Murray McMurray Hatchery in Iowa. They are a motley crew of classics and rare breeds: Rhode Island Reds, Buff Orpingtons (gold), Dominques (or "Domineckers," as we call them here in Appalachia), Araucanas (the green egg layers), Delawares (white), Cuckoo Marans (a dark brown egg layer from France), and Silver Grey Dorkings (an old breed from England). Lance immediately took to the Dorkings, and he made it a habit of singing "The Dorking Song" to them every time he went into the coop. (FYI: "The Dorking Song" is basically the word "dork" sung to the tune of "Surry with a Fringe on Top" from Rodgers and Hammerstein's Broadway play "Oklahoma.") Though certainly not Mozart, "The Dorking Song" had a positive effect on the little diddles, and now, one of the Dorkings--"Dora"--jumps into our hand every time we open the brooder. Looks like she will follow in the footsteps of Henny Penny and Lance Jr. and will soon be foraging for worms at my side as I dig in the garden.

We have dubbed this generation of chicks "The Third Age"--in reference to J.R.R. Tolkein's "The Lord of the Rings." The First Age, lead by Henny Penny, included our very first chickens--the Black Giants from Uncle Baker and the Rhode Island Reds and Golden Laced Wyandottes from Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Betty. The Second Age, originally led by Lance Jr, and now by Galadriel, included the first batch of chicks we ordered from Murray McMurray back in 2005. Petie, the rooster I "inherited" from my Uncle David when he died, is still the proud patriarch.

Pictures: (1) Dorkings and Araucanas in the brooder, (2) Dora

The State of Things, Spring 2008

2008-05-03T06:03:00.000-07:00

Here are some long-overdue pictures of the house. As you can see, Mike has restored one of the side porches and is working on the other one. The masons are slowly but surely covering the chimney--which they have dubbed "the Empire State Building"--with stone. We're still waiting on the windows.

"Nevermore"

2008-03-28T08:19:00.000-07:00

Lance and I knew that one day we would have to write this entry, but we never expected it to be so soon: Our beloved Poe cat is gone. He went missing last Wednesday night, and we spent the next several days frantically looking for him, searching his favorite napping spots--the attic, the smokehouse, and the barn loft--and walking all over the farm calling out his name: "Poe Poe Kitty!" Our hopes rose with every movement, every dark shadow--"There he is!" But what we thought was Poe turned out to be just a black hen, scratching for worms, or a piece of torn black plastic, blowing in the wind.

On Tuesday morning--nearly a week after we had last seen him--Mike, our contractor, finally found him in the eave of the house. Apparently, he had crawled up under the insulation in the attic to bed down--and never woke up. I have no idea how Mike found him as he was so far down in the soffit, but we are so thankful that we could finally stop searching and fearing that we would never get to see him again. He had some blood on his nose, but otherwise, he seemed unharmed. The vet thinks he probably died of a pulmonary embolism. Mike built him the sweetest little coffin, and Lance and I buried him with some cardinal feathers--as cardinals were one of his favorite snacks.

Needless to say, the farm will never be the same without our "fearless warrior cat." He was one of those rare animals who holds sway over you, who earns your unconditional respect without ever demanding it. We would joke that he was a "pharaoh cat descended from royalty," and we would spend hours just watching him: perched under the bird feeder, tail whipping in anticipation of a songbird snack; slinking through the woods like a panther; rolling around in the dirt; sunning in the garden near the catnip; trotting down the driveway at night, yellow eyes flashing in the head lights; snubbing the affections of Pippin, his frisky "younger brother." Everything he did was worthy of study--as if he were a Master Jedi Cat imparting his infinite wisdom of the universe upon two Padawan learners.

We first met Poe on August 31, 2002--the first day we looked at the farm. As soon as we entered the barn, we heard a noise in the rafters. We looked up, and there he was: a shiny black cat climbing down to greet us and making his characteristic squeak: "Eeh Eeh." Immediately, he seemed to trust us, and immediately, we were enamored with him. I made Lance ask the current owners of the property if the cat came with the farm--a question that Lance was certain would decrease our chances of haggling for a lower price. "If they know you like the cat, then they know we want the farm. We have to play hard to get." I've never been good at that game, so we took our chances and expressed our interest in the farm's feline resident. The owners assured us, that yes, the cat did come with the farm. They had taken several of the barn cats to their new home, but they had left the black one--"Phantom," they called him--because he would disappear for days and seemed weary of humans. What? The cat we knew was no misanthrope! He was wildly affectionate, always bounding out of the barn to meet us when he heard our car in the driveway so he could get a "whole butt rub." We decided to keep quiet about his charm, though, in fear that they would take him back. Luckily, that didn't happen, and we secured the farm as well as our new friend, whose name we changed to Poe, after Edgar Allan. We quickly learned, though, that even though we had bought the farm with our money, Poe truly owned the place; he was "the lord of the manor." It was like he had always been there, and would be there long after we were gone. We seemed mere visitors, just passing through.

Poe was obviously used to fending for himself, so when we set out a self feeder for him in the smokehouse, he thought he had struck gold. No more did he have to hunt and capture his food, bite off heads, and chew through bones and fur. Now, his food came in handy little morsels--and in an all-you-can-eat buffet! We found out quickly, though, that the self-feeding option wasn't going to work. The day after we set the feeder out, we found him hunched beside it, big as a balloon with a stomach full of Iams, and ready to pounce on any potential thief. Eventually, we fell into a rhythm of feeding him in the morning and evening, and he could still catch birds and mice for an occasional snack.

We tried many times to keep him in the house, but he didn't take to lounging around like his brother, Beaker. Poe was a "fearless warrior cat," and fearless warrior cats don't lounge. They explore and protect the homestead--perhaps too well, as Poe was apt to fight off intruders, namely other cats who came snooping around at night. Undoubtedly, he would suffer a wound from these duels, and undoubtedly, he would get an abscess, which would need to be lanced and drained by the vet. During times of convalescence, Poe would willingly stay indoors, though he would sometimes forget where to use the bathroom--as when he peed in the air vent. Before we discovered his crime, he bounded out the door into the woods and was gone all day. That evening, he brought us the largest bunny that he could carry--as a peace offering. "I'm sorry I peed in your vent. Accept this paralyzed bunny as a token of my regret. Here, I'll bite its head off for you." A compassionate warrior indeed.

Over the years, we coined many nicknames for him: "Toonces" (he would often jump up into the car with us and put his paws on the steering wheel); "Bat Cat" (Lance would often make him "fly through the air" like the Dark Knight); "The Dread Pirate Black Butt" (every pet needs a Princess Bride nickname); and "Buster Brown Leg" (one of his back legs had a streak of brown fur on it) were a few of our favorites. But the one that best captures Poe is simply "the greatest cat in the world." And he was.

Viva Yaruca!

2008-03-04T10:09:00.000-08:00

Many of you know that Heather, Kim (my sister), and I were planning a medical mission trip to Honduras in February. Well, we did it -- and what an experience.

We started traveling on February 14th and finally arrived in La Ceiba, Honduras late afternoon on the 15th. La Ceiba served as a base for the International Health Service (our group) which included 105 volunteers. Twelve different teams covered the country and all had daily radio contact with the base located in the Gran Hotel Paris in La Ceiba. Our team of 15 people was located in the mountains of Northern Honduras in a town called Yaruca (you can see where it is at www.ihsofmn.org). I have posted a few pictures of this beautiful little village which is surrounded by green mountains and next to the clearest little river I have ever seen.

Our clinic consisted of two doctors, a juggling dentist, and an eyeglass clinic. Of course, I was busy seeing patients everyday. Heather and Kim spent time fitting people for eyeglasses, being dental assistants, and being good influences on the young girls in Yaruca. They were two Pied Pipers with throngs of little girls following them wherever they went.

The people there are as beautiful as the landscape. Yarucans are warm, gracious, trustworthy, and honest. Some of my patients had walked 6 hours to be seen -- usually with three kids in tow. I saw lots of the same ailments that afflict people in the States (hypertension, diabetes, arthritis) as well as conditions that Americans are less likely to be familiar with ("piojos" (lice), "sarna" (scabies"), machete wounds).

The cultural experience was outstanding primarily because NOBODY spoke English in Yaruca. Additionally, a wonderful lady named Cristina served the entire team three traditional Honduran meals in her house everyday. She had a friend named Leticia who helped with the cooking and did our laundry for us. It was easy living - kind of.

One of the most memorable parts of the trip was our last day (Feb 28) when we were departing. After 14 inches of rain fell the night before, the only road out was flooded. The people of the village rallied together with mules and trucks to carry us to the next village where a bus was waiting for us.

After we returned to La Ceiba, the three of us took a trip to the western part of the country to see the Mayan ruins in Copan. They are only 1300 years old so it was not overwhelming at all.

Overall, it was an unbelievable experience that I plan to repeat each year. Honduras is a beautiful country with wonderful people and rich history.

Lance

Pictures included are 1) a view of the valley that Yaruca sits in, 2) the Rio Grande which runs next to Yaruca, 3) Kim, Heather, and two of the village girls, 4)Heather and Kim with Cristina and Leticia, and 5) the three of us at the Copan ruins.

Christmas Letter 2007

2007-12-19T10:11:00.000-08:00

**NOTE: Some of you may have received cards with a portion of the first two sentences missing. (We think Beaker hit the "delete" key when we weren't looking!) Being an English major, I will probably need an entire year to recover from the guilt of sending out a card with a major typo! Here is the correct version:

Season's Greetings!

I was just reading our Christmas letters from the last two years, and each holds the promise of a warm, historically restored house. Well, we’re not quite there yet. In fact, the house is as cold as ever and certainly messier. We’re actually boarding again at Hotel Brenda since the construction has seeped into every room of the house. Progress is occurring slowly but surely, though: Mike has finished stacking the logs for both cabins, and he has nearly completed the connector addition. I won’t make any promises this year, but if you don’t find me at Walnut Grove next holiday season, then look for me at the local sanitarium!

The animals are getting as restless as we are, I think. Despite our efforts to contain them in their roomy lot, the goats continue to break through the fence and take charge of the whole farm. It’s not unusual for Billy to climb the ladder into the cabin to give Mike a hand (aka pester him). We’re running low on eggs—a raccoon killed several of my best laying hens back in early fall, and the little diddles that hatched out in the spring were predominately roosters, most of whom have since been eaten. That Lance and I finally butchered a chicken is perhaps the biggest news of the year. We don’t plan on making a habit of it (as we still enjoy being vegetarians), but instead view it as a necessity of animal husbandry—and an activity that encourages a closer connection to our food sources and a deeper respect for Mother Nature. (The picture on the front of the card shows Lance and me holding one of our roosters after I roasted it on the open hearth for the Exchange Place’s “Christmas in the Country”). If the “autumn cull” is the biggest news, then the death of my brother’s horse, Scar, is certainly the most tragic. She was attacked and killed by two pit bulls at my dad’s barn last month. She had boarded all summer at Walnut Grove, and we considered her one of our own. She was always hanging her head over the fence in hopes of getting a carrot or a good scratch behind the ears. Ruby, our filly, also had a run of bad luck: She stepped on a nail back in the summer and is just now recovering. Johnny Cash, the black gelding that my dad gave me, is settling in nicely, but Jezebel, our dapple gray mare, still rules the roost (barn, stall, pasture etc). Besides the hens and Scar, I also lost my two sweet dogs, Spec and Rose, this year. They lived with my step-father’s other English Pointers in his kennel and were partners in crime when it came to hunting wild birds. The cats, though, seem to be doing well. Poe and Pippin are probably snuggling up in the hayloft as I write this letter; and Beaker is curled up on the Christmas quilt on my bed. Royalty, indeed!

In other news: Lance is still x-raying, and I am still grading papers. Lance is also becoming quite the pro at speaking Spanish. We are going to Honduras for two weeks in February to volunteer with the International Health Service; and Lance insists that he be able to understand the patients. I, on the other hand, am looking forward to remaining behind the scenes and quietly anonymous as the “general helper” aka “box carrier”!

We wish all of you a joyous Christmas and a happy and healthy New Year!

Lance and Heather

Thanksgiving

2007-11-26T08:03:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, the mission of Walnut Grove is to provide a venue for self-sufficiency. When Lance and I bought the farm five years ago, the original plan was to raise our own food--both vegetables and meat. The meat part never happened, as I couldn't bring myself to butcher my sweet (and productive) laying hens, especially "Henny Penny"--and I really wasn't prepared to rear a hog. At that point, Lance and I became vegetarians, opting out of the industrialized system of meat production that this country has become so fond of and which was increasingly weighing on our consciences ("out of sight" was very much "in our minds"). This spring, however, three of my most determined hens hatched out broods (see June 19 post) of what turned out to be mostly roosters. As these little cocks grew into big cocks, I knew that the time would come when "something would have to be done." Too many roosters means too many fights and too many harassed hens. Unfortunately, most people--even fellow farmers--aren't interested in foster parenting roosters. (We did find a home for two roosters--Robin and Louie (an older rooster), though). I decided to keep the old patriarch Petie and three of the young roosters: Randy (a friendly one), Loretta (our drag queen), and Goldo Jr. (truly a reincarnation of his father). The rest, I decided, were going to have to be butchered. That was that. After much research on the proper techniques of killing and cleaning a chicken, Lance and I finally did the deed over Thanksgiving weekend--the traditional time for hog killin' here in Appalachia. Knowing that it would be too ambitious to "take care of" all 10+ roosters on the first go around, though, we instead settled on two large breasted ones who were just on the cusp of adulthood. I'll spare the details of the slaughter, but I will say that the other chickens seemed oblivious to what was going on, as they pecked at their fellow coop-mates' plucked feathers. Though astonished that Lance and I actually killed one (much less two!) of my beloved chickens, Mom nevertheless roasted the two birds for supper. Lance enjoyed a drumstick--his favorite--for the first time in 2+ years, and I nibbled on a piece of the breast. And though we both felt ethically satisfied--that we truly deserved to eat the meat--we ultimately decided that we prefer being good old herbivores!

Attached are pictures from the event: Me plucking feathers, Lance dressing the bird (notice other chickens in the background), and the two birds after roasting.

Girls' Night Out

2007-10-28T12:50:00.000-07:00

Looks like the horses had a rough night last night. This morning, Jezebel came to the barn with a "witch's stirrup" tied in her mane. My grandfather claimed that witches would steal horses on Halloween night, tie knots in their manes for stirrups, and go riding about the skies in wild revelry. Since it's not quite Halloween, my guess is that the witches took Ruby and Jezzie (and Johnny Cash if they could catch him) on a test run.

Here are two pictures of Jezzie's mane and one of Ruby, resting after a long night.

Fall 2007

2007-10-28T10:36:00.001-07:00

Despite the animal tragedies, we have made quite a bit of progress on the cabin--as you can see from the pictures. We're starting to have our first chilly fall days (finally!). Keep your fingers crossed that the heating and air unit will be up and running when Old Man Winter comes to town!

Revenge of the Chicken

2007-10-10T08:14:00.000-07:00

We've had a rough couple of months here at Walnut Grove. A few weeks ago, Ruby stepped on a nail, the treatment for which required 10 days of the following: a daily hoof soak and wrap; a shot of penicillin in the neck, twice a day; a dose of antibiotic powder in her food; and a dose of Bute (pain med paste) twice a day. I was expecting her to give me a hard time (and rightly so--who wants to have a needle stuck in her neck or a tube of paste jammed down her throat!), but surprisingly, she cooperated nicely. She definitely has her mother's disposition. We're still giving her the Bute, and Dr. Clark (aka "Saint Vet") is going to X-ray her foot soon. Hopefully, she will have a full recovery. In addition to Ruby's injury, we've had some chicken tragedies of late. Not long after Ruby stepped on the nail, my sweet little pet hen, Lola, died. She was born with a cross-beak and could barely eat. I hand-fed her for several weeks, but I knew she wasn't going to live very long. The night after she died, though, a raccoon got into the chicken coop and slaughtered about 6 hens--something I wasn't quite so prepared for. I woke up to find several mutilated and decapitated bodies strewn about the farm. Marge, my best mother hen (several pictures of her are on this blog), was lying headless in a nest box. And poor Sunny, one of my Aracaunas, wasn't even dead yet. She was wondering around with her skin hanging off, while the survivor chickens pecked at her. Not a pretty sight. The next night, the coon hit the banty coop (it pulled off the boards I had NAILED over the entryway). The mess was unbelievable (apparently, this coon was a picky eater). At that point, I was finished respecting the ways of the food chain; we set a trap and caught and killed the culprit. No more chicken dinners for that ring-tale!

Here are pictures of some of the chickens from Marge's clutch this year and the bantys that my uncle gave me to replace the ones I lost to the coon--they are settling nicely into the role of garbage disposals, devouring kitchen scraps and scouring manure piles for bug larvae. Ecologists might call such a re-generation of the species "The Circle of Life"; I call it "Revenge of the Chicken"!

Bounty

2007-08-30T06:09:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of this year's bounty. Despite the heat and drought, we still managed to grow some mighty fine veggies and flowers. A jar of homemade salsa or vegetable soup in December is about the best Christmas gift you can give to yourself!

Pictures are (from top to bottom): raw ingredients for salsa, canned tomato juice, heirloom Italian Rose beans, and a "Sunbright" sunflower

The Only Block You'll Never See

2007-08-13T06:53:00.000-07:00

Though I was bound and determined not to use a single cinder block in the restoration, I ended up compromising for the chimney base, which needs to be a solid 10 foot cube. Other options were to use brick (nearly 10,000, the mason estimated) or pour several slabs of concrete, letting each slab dry before pouring the subsequent one--both very expensive and time consuming. I'm normally not convinced by the "you'll never see it" argument, but in this case, it seemed logical. From the top of the base up, the chimney shell will be brick--as most historic chimney shells are--and then the entire chimney will be covered in the stone salvaged from the original structure.

Here's a picture of the chimney base and the openings for the two fireplaces. Look closely because you'll never see the block again!

Movin' on Up!

2007-07-13T10:32:00.000-07:00

We might as well change our names to George and Louise Jefferson! As you can see, the Birdwell-Bradley cabin is nearly assembled and under roof. Mike and crew have been working double time to prepare for the installation of the heating and air unit in mid-August. By that time, we should have both cabins and addition under roof--and plenty more pictures to share.

Greta

2007-07-09T09:03:00.001-07:00

Over the weekend, Lance and I visited the Frontier Culture Museum in Staunton, Virginia, where historians and interpreters have restored authentic German, Scots-Irish, English, and Appalachian farmsteads with the hopes of illustrating the fusion of European cultures into a uniquely American one. At the German farmstead, I made a new friend--Greta the Polish-crested hen! She was just like Henny! She let me pick her up and pet her, she cooed affectionately, and she instinctively knew that following us around probably meant that she was going to get a snack. Unfortunately, the German farmer was quite attached to her, so it was impossible for me to "accidentally" sneak her into my purse!

Future Farmer of America

2007-06-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

Our nephew Jackson came to visit "Mamaw" and "Poppy" for a few days this week. At the farm, he was more interested in Mike's "big tractor" than in the animals, but nevertheless, he helped with some of the chores, including feeding the chickens! He also requested a photoshoot with Beaker and Poe.

Hey Diddle Diddle!

2007-06-19T09:59:00.000-07:00

Though I had planned not to allow any of my hens to hatch out chicks this year, I quickly learned that I cannot thwart mother nature. After spending the spring breaking up one nest after another, I finally gave up. Marge, the hen who raised a clutch last year, slyly began to lay eggs again in a secluded corner of the goat pen behind a large piece of plywood. Yet another Buff Orpington ("Buffy") refused to leave the nest boxes; she just kept moving from one pile of eggs to another during the day. Two banty hens employed the same strategy. All in all, my efforts to unwind the biological clocks of these stalwart wanna-be mothers were in vain. Yesterday, I began to see the fruits of these randy brooders as I watched one little fuzz ball after another emerge from its shell. Now, though I have no idea what I am going to do with all these "little diddles," I can't help but joyfully muse at the miracle of life.

First Story Up

2007-06-19T09:44:00.000-07:00

After stalling the restoration to resolve several glitches with the documentation of the cabin, we are finally making progress. The Exchange Place was generous enough to donate several old, displaced logs as substitutes for damaged logs from the original cabin--and Mike located a giant oak "widow maker" (fallen tree that is precariously leaning on another tree) that he hand-hewed to replace a log for which we could not find an old replacement. Included are pictures of the first story and an original window jam that Mike has re-pegged.

Meet Pippin!

2007-04-27T07:55:00.000-07:00

I just realized that we haven't "introduced" our new cat, Pippin, on the blog. Pippin showed up on our wood pile around Thanksgiving (he knew where to come!)--and he has settled in nicely, bringing us "gifts" of birds and mice. Included are a picture of Pippin with chickens in the background and one of Poe and Beaker "nesting" on the window sill.

Out with the "New" and in with the "Old"!

2007-04-27T07:45:00.000-07:00

Last fall, Lance and I hired a carpenter in Abingdon to make replicas of the original 2 over 2 wood windows in the farmhouse. To be environmentally responsible, though, we had him double-pane them with one pane of the old glass and one pane of new. Finally, after working for over 6 months on them, he finished the job. Larry, carpenter extraordinaire, is installing them--and they are BEAUTIFUL! Now, when I drive down the driveway, I can see the waves and bubbles in the glass...maybe the ghost of old Blocker John will peek out one of these days too!

Martin Cabin

2007-04-27T07:21:00.000-07:00

In a streak of good luck, Lance and I were GIVEN another cabin to use for the addition. One of Lance's co-workers (who lives in a lovely early-20th-century four-square house), told his neighbor (who owned the cabin) about our restoration here at the farm. The man, who had previously turned down offers of thousands of dollars for the cabin, told us, "If you take it down, it's yours." How could we refuse? So, we sent Mike and Mark to dismantle it. The cabin, which was probably built between 1830 and 1860 by the Martin family, was turned into a general store in the late 1800's. The original store counter was still in it--along with piles of styrofoam tobacco plugs. Getting rid of the styrofoam (and keeping the curious cows from stomping all over it) proved the most challenging task. Of course, many of the old timers advised us to break the law and, "Ah, just burn it!"--but we finally found a dump that would take it, and that's where it will stay...for centuries.

The cabin wasn't in perfect condition as several of the logs were rotted, but the original attic rafters were pristine--and labeled with Roman Numerals! We're planning on joining this cabin to the Birdwell-Bradley cabin so that the entire back portion of the house will be logs.

Included are a picture of the cabin and of me peeking out of the attic.

Logs-a-stackin!

2007-04-18T13:35:00.000-07:00

This week is destined to be productive with the first logs from the Birdwell-Bradley cabin getting stacked, installation of the our reproduction windows, continued garden work, and the much needed dust bath.

Pictures are:
1) First OLD log floor joist.
2) Mike with his adze.
3) Louie, Phoenix, and Delaware taking a dust bath.

Lance

Klosterman Girls Visit Walnut Grove

2007-03-11T18:44:00.000-07:00

Before last week Olivia had never been to Walnut Grove Farm. Because little brother Brad was coming up for his chair making course, Aunt Kim decided to come down for a visit and bring along Olivia.

The three days Kim and Olivia were here were great. Because she had only seen Uncle Lance and Aunt Heather a few hours of her life, she was a bit shy at first. She stayed close to Aunt Kim for the first day. Fortunately, while she was here we celebrated her 5th birthday with a "Chocolate Mountain Cake" that Heather had made and decorated with snow on the peak (coconut) and some animals. What kid can resist chocolate cake and birthday gifts? She definitely warmed up to us after the cake.

Then came the visit to the farm. Olivia was cautious at first since she had never seen a chicken up close. She really liked the baby goats and was all into collecting the eggs.

Lance

Pictures included are 1. Olivia with the baby goats, 2. Kim and Walter making out, 3. Olivia and Lance collecting the eggs, and 4. Olivia with an egg basket full of delicious eggs.

80 hours, 2 chairs, and Too Many Stories to Count

2007-03-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

About two years ago Heather bought me a week long chair making course with Curtis Buchanan who is a renowned Windsor chair maker in downtown historic Jonesborough. Because of the house project, it took a while to finally get around to the much anticipated week long experience.

Little did I know that my younger brother was taking an interest in furniture making himself. After coming to this realization near Christmas I had an epiphany - the two of us could do the course together. Curtis was amenable and Brad was able to get time off from work so we were set to go.

The course involves beginning with a freshly split oak log and turning it into a windsor chair. The spindles and back were split and shaved from white oak. The chair was carved from a hunk of yellow pine. And the rockers are cut from rock maple. The whole process took us about 80 hours from Monday until Saturday night. Brad and I finished at 10:30 Saturday night - only 6 and a half hours before his flight left the next morning.

One of the most interesting parts of the week was the seemingly endless supply of stories that Curtis has to draw from. Most of the stories come from his youth when he hitchhiked all over the US and Central America for 7 years of his life. Oh, to live on the road.

Lance

Pictures included are 1. Brad on the shaving horse, 2. Curtis on the horse (notice Heather in the background who stopped by to entertain), and the final chairs.

One fine March Week

2007-03-11T18:05:00.000-07:00

This past week (March 3-11) was eventful. It all started with Brad (little Bro) arriving on Saturday for the beginning of a long week of chair making with Lance and master chairmaker Curtis Buchanan. Details will be filled in the following blog titled "80 hours, 2 Chairs, and Too Many Stories to Count." Shortly after Brad's arrival on Saturday, Aunt Kim and Olivia (Scott's daughter) came to visit the farm. The details of that story are documented in the blog titled "Klosterman Girls Visit Walnut Grove."

Paul Bunyan

2007-01-29T09:28:00.000-08:00

As the original sill logs of the cabin were heavily damaged by termites, we decided to replace them with new, hand-hewn logs. Luckily, Mike had felled some large white oak trees on a mountain near Bristol about five years ago. The situation was perfect: White oak is very rot resistant, and the fact that these trees had been cut for a few years decreases the chance of shrinkage. So, Mike and crew spent several days on the mountain hewing away. (We did agree to let him run the logs through a portable saw mill to square them off--a luxury our hearty ancestors did not have.) The logs were so long and heavy, we had to hire a U-Haul truck (the modern version of a team of work horses) to transport them to the farm.

Christmas Letter 2006

2006-12-16T15:08:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays!

The weather is perfect for writing a Christmas letter! As I am typing, the temperature is holding steady at freezing, but this morning, when I was traipsing about feeding the animals and busting their water, it was in the twenties. My thought is that it isn’t Christmas unless frost has blanketed the fields and the chickens are huddling inside the coop to stay warm. Of course, Lance and I have been doing our fair share of huddling too. Those of you who have been keeping up with our blog know that much of our house is exposed because of construction. To limit the amount of fossil fuel burning, we are keeping the thermostats set at a “balmy 58 degrees,” as Lance says, and spending most of our time by the fire. Oddly enough, the first inhabitants of our farmhouse would probably be roasting at 58 degrees. Their spirits are likely thinking, “Those softies from the future! Central heat and air have ruined them!”
We certainly have been knee-deep in restoration this year. Mike, our trusty contractor, has removed the vinyl siding from our house, restored and painted the original clapboard and trim, completely rebuilt the front porch, installed a wood shingle roof over both porches, dug a basement under the house, and dismantled and moved a two-story, 1835 log cabin, which we “saved from Wal-Mart.” Currently, he is building the foundation for the addition and cabin with salvaged stones from an 1893 church originally located near Gate City, VA and a historic home in Elizabethton, TN. We continuously look at the concept drawings of our talented architect, Anita, and think, “Just another year!” For me, there is no other option than living in an old house, so I will continue to trample through red clay and listen to the banging of hammers and buzzing of saws until the project is complete. And I will continue to be thankful for a husband who doesn’t regret marrying someone born in the wrong century.
We have suffered quite a few losses this year among the animals. Henny Penny was killed by a beagle back in February, Lance Jr. died of an impacted craw in April, and sweet Copper passed away of asthma in June. Needless to say, I have shed many tears. The new generation is thriving, though. We boarded Ruby, Copper’s colt, at a training barn in Bristol for three month over the summer. She is now showing off her newly acquired horse etiquette and looking forward to saddle training next year. Iris, our pygmy goat, mothered triplets in April. The new kids, Walter, Ivy, and Lily, are getting used to the spoiled life here at Walnut Grove. Two of our banty hens and one of our Aracaunas hatched out chicks this summer, so we are sure to have eggs in the future. And of course, the cats remain our faithful friends. Beaker hasn’t changed much: He still spends most of his day sleeping or begging for tuna. Poe, the legendary “fearless warrior cat,” is doing a little less hunting and a little more snoozing this year. (He is lounging beside the computer as I write this letter.) We have a new feline addition: Pippin, a gray tabby kitten, arrived on our woodpile a few weeks ago and has settled in nicely. We’re trying to make a mouser out of him, especially since Poe has gone part-time. Oh…and I can’t forget the guineas, who are squawking outside the window. They will do a number on the bugs come spring!

We'll post more pictures from the Christmas photo shoot in the next week or two.

Have a wonderful Christmas and joyous New Year!

A Plan for the Future

2006-12-09T12:32:00.000-08:00

The past two nights have gotten below 10 degrees and we have felt it. As you might expect, the heat pump doesn't work too well when the wind chill is below 0. Therefore, we unfortunately have to burn fossil fuels to keep the house a balmy 58 degrees.

During the past year of construction, we have been slowly modifying our plans for the cabin and addition. As a part of these modifications, we asked the architect to produce some concept drawings to help us visualize what the project will finally look like. Attached is a picture posted before on the blog of Heather in the garden and the concept drawing from the north side of the house.

A Firm Foundation

2006-11-26T10:43:00.000-08:00

Following Henry David Thoreau's advice, we are laying the foundation of our castle (historic log cabin, rather) in the air. Mike and crew have been cutting, chiseling, and mortaring away for the last month. The beautiful hand-cut limestone from Ewing's Chapel (see February 11th post "Rocks and Snow") is almost gone, but we have secured a few more tons of rock from the chimney of a historic home in Elizabethton. Even with the aid of a modern rock saw, the process is slow and arduous...by 2006 standards, that is.

New Front Door!

2006-11-03T09:27:00.000-08:00

Here's a picture of our new front door. Mike made it from walnut he had harvested from the Exchange Place, the living history farm where I volunteer. Wood looks so much better than vinyl!

Ruby's Homecoming

2006-10-09T17:19:00.000-07:00

After three months of focused training at Journey's End Farm, Ruby came home a changed filly. A few of her impressive capabilities: leading, standing on crossties while being groomed, lifting her feet to be picked, and driving with reins. She also politely turns her butt away from me when I go into her stall (rather than aiming it right at me in preparation to kick!) Since Scar and Johnny Cash are at Dad's, Ruby and Jezebel are getting nicely reaquainted; I think they'll be best friends again in no time! I plan to continue her training in the round pen that Lance built over the summer; and by next spring, she'll be ready to travel once again to Bristol for saddle training.

Pictures include: (1) Jezebel and Ruby loaded in the trailer at Journey's End (it is usually wise for a horse to have a "buddy" while traveling); (2) Ruby on the lead rope after being unloaded at Walnut Grove; (3) Ruby working in the round pen.

It's About Time...

2006-10-04T16:11:00.000-07:00

we made a new post! We apologize for being out of touch for awhile, but with school starting and Lance taking on new responsibilities at work, we've had to put the blog on the back burner. Not to worry, though, we're back with lots of exciting news and pictures. Mike has been busy laying the footers for the addition (see picture), and now we're sowing grass in the front yard. I am particularly happy about this project; the interim yard of mud was starting to wear me thin. Soon, I will be able to return my shrubs and flowers to their original, loamy homes. (They've been waiting patiently in red clay.)

We're also glad to have had the chance to visit with our nieces and nephews of late (see pictures below). Last weekend, Lance and I traveled to Nashville to attend his cousin's wedding, and we got to spend quality time with his siblings and meet (aka snuggle with, kiss, hug on) his new niece, Rae. She is a special one, not only because she is such a placid baby, but because she shares my middle name (also my grandmother's maiden name). On our way home, we stopped in at Shane and Bobbie's where Jackson enjoyed showing off the wagon we got him last Christmas, and two-week-old Reese McKenna snoozed on our shoulders. I think I have definitely caught the baby bug, but as we are knee-deep in restoration, we'll have to wait a couple more years to be fruitful.

P.S. Ruby is coming home this weekend, so I'm sure we'll post again soon!

Wood Roof

2006-08-18T09:12:00.000-07:00

After much deliberation, Lance and I decided to return our roof to its original state of wood shingles. In a letter written by Ruby Brown, daughter of "Blocker" John and Hannah, to Kathy McInturf, owner of the farm from 1975-2000, Ruby states, "The wood roof was replaced with metal in the 1930's, and then not because of leaks, but because of fire hazard." Let's hope if we decide to go with metal in later years, it is not for the same reason!

In the same letter, Ruby writes of the farm, "I am so full of that place, I could write a book about it!" We feel the same.

Be fruitful and multiply

2006-08-01T06:58:00.000-07:00

Although we have not followed the devine order from Genesis 1:28, the non-human residents of Walnut Grove have been faithfully obeying. One of our bantam hens diligently brooded for what seemed like months before she hatched out two chicks this week. She actually sat for about 21 days (the same as a full size chicken) before these beaked cotton balls emerged.

New Chicks!

2006-07-15T14:34:00.000-07:00

This morning Heather found some new additions to the farm tucked in a corner of the goat pen. Neither one of us thought this hen had been sitting very long. I guess time flies when you're restoring an old house -- NOT.

Ruby's Big Adventure

2006-07-06T18:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening, Ruby left the comfort and familiarity of Walnut Grove and traveled to Journey's End Farm near Bristol where she will board for a month and receieve obedience training. Her adventure had a rocky start, as Ruby did not appreciate being loaded into the horse trailer. After an initial fight, though, she rode smoothly up the road--with her pal Jezebel by her side (for security and peace of mind, both human and equine). Showing her stubborn streak, she at first refused to back out of the trailer when we arrived at the barn, but after watching Jezebel do it (and receieve a handful of hay as reward), Ruby aquiesced. She made herself right at home in her new stall and introduced herself to her neighbor, Stony, with a loud "neigh!" Today, Mom and I visited her and watched Lisa, the trainer, work with her in a round pen. Utilizing natural horsemanship methods (as seen in "The Horse Whisperer" for instance), Lisa had Ruby obeying commands in about 30 minutes. Though sometimes more interested in fellow animals--horses grazing nearby, Chompers the dog, and Hamlet the three-legged cat--than Lisa, Ruby nevertheless aced her lesson. After a pat on the neck and an apple/oat treat, Mom and I left Ruby to bask in the temporary glory of a job well done. Copper would be proud.

Introducing . . . The Painting Princesses!

2006-07-03T15:57:00.000-07:00

95 degree heat was no obstacle for our Brushing Brides today. Lets just say that I was glad I had to work in air conditioning. -Lance

Hail and Farewell

2006-06-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

Once again, my plan to write a cheerful post has been thwarted by tragedy. Last Monday evening we lost our sweet red mare, Copper. She had been suffering some time from asthma, and though we had been treating her with steroids and lots of love, her poor lungs just couldn't take the summer heat and humidity any longer. Monday evening, as Lance and I were looking at the day's progress on the front porch, I noticed that she was lying low in the grass in the front field. Since she rarely ventured out of the barn, except to pick grass for an hour or two, I guessed that something might be wrong. I called to her, she got up, walked a few yards, and lay down again. At that point, I knew she was suffering, so we started walking out in the field. When we got within 20 yards or so, she knickered and started breathing even harder. Lance went to the barn to get some medicine and call the vet while I stayed and comforted her. She tried to get up. I encouraged her, thinking that she was simply overheated and a respite in the cool barn would ease her pain. She took two steps, her back legs collapsed, and she fell over. At that point, I knew she wasn't long for this world. In less than a minute, she was gone. Lance will tell you that she waited for me to find her before she died. I don't know, but I am grateful that I was with her when she passed. After calling about ten local farmers, we finally found one who would bury her that night. It is still difficult to fathom how something so large and alive is gone. Thousands of tiny insects probably perished during her burial, but their deaths, and indeed their entire existence, seem so inconsequential compared to those of my 1,000 pound, new-penny-colored friend, whose warm neck I often leaned against for comfort. When the weather cools, we plan to plant a Sugar Maple on Copper's grave. In the fall, its leaves will undoubtedly remind us of her.

Attached are two pictures of Copper--a few days after she gave birth to Ruby. Ruby, by the way, seems to be adjusting well to her mother's death. I keep telling her that she is a young lady now with big hooves to fill.

Progress despite rain

2006-05-27T18:25:00.000-07:00

May has turned out to be extremely wet with daily, heavy thunderstorms typical for an East Tennessee Spring. Despite the rain, Mike (our contractor) refuses to let the weather slow him down. For instance, Thursday he arrived at the farm at ~6:30 AM to paint the porch so it would dry before the rains hit at 10 am.

Pictures attached include a couple of the rebuilt stone porch with the original 1899 woodwork and a photo of the happy goat family.

Lebowski Fest in East Tennessee

2006-05-14T16:41:00.000-07:00

This weekend, we took Walter on a field trip to see Dude and Maude, the two silkie banties that we had given Lance's colleague, Joy, a couple of months ago. The proud parents of two fluffy chicks--little achievers!--they strutted around in style (and Dude occasionally wandered into the corner of the pen to take a sip of what we thought was a White Russian). Walter behaved himself and didn't wave a gun at the other goats, even though they were rather hostile, as Nihilist goats are wont to be.
We know this story is ludicrous, but we share The Stranger's optimism and will sleep better knowing that there are "little Lebowski's" out there keeping the tick population in check.