Dr. Mudd

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

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.

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.