The orphan party

For the last few years, since she's been at her European duty station, Younger Daughter has been throwing what she calls "Orphan Parties" at Christmas.

These are Christmas Eve gatherings of as many service people as want to celebrate together, since so many are far away from their families. She has a spacious apartment, and the party starts on Christmas Eve evening and lasts past midnight. She is arranging car pools and designated drivers, and is also offering floor and couch space for those who just want to crash overnight rather than navigate their way home (especially helpful for those who overindulge).

Although adult beverages will be available (brought by guests, since she doesn't supply either food or alcohol), the entire party is wholesome and family-friendly. This year she is expecting 20 adults and six kids, including three babies ranging in age from seven months to eighteen months. She has gifts for each party attendee, including stockings for the older children. (She decided on just stuffed animals for the babies.)

When we last spoke a couple days ago, she said she was working on games and prizes. 

• People are encouraged to wear (modest) pajamas, so she'll have a prize for the "best dressed" nightwear.

• She plans a "hide the pickle" game, in which a pickle-shaped ornament is hidden somewhere in the apartment. The extra rule is the finder must visibly hold the pickle at all times, and others can steal it if they want.

Gifts and prizes are equally fun or goofy. She has four anonymous gifts, wrapped up, but they can only be given if the gift is identified through a series of clues.

• One of the prizes is a coupon for a free painting (she's very artistic, and apparently people hound her for artwork).

• Another prize is a very large bottle of hot sauce shaped like the Grinch’s head.

• Because (as she puts it) so many party attendees are immature, one of the prizes is a Nerf gun, which is apparently very popular among sailors.

• For caffeine addicts, she found a vintage mocha coffee set at a thrift store. She said it was a little pricey, but very handsome.

I love the idea of an Orphan Party! It's tough on military personnel to be so far away from loved ones, but she is helping forge both ties and memories by offering a place to safely celebrate.

America's hope

Last night, Don and I were invited to attend the Christmas pageant of some local Mennonite schoolchildren singing carols and reciting some religious poetry. The event was held in the newish barn of a member of the nearby Mennonite church, a man whom Don knows through their mutual involvement in a professional project. The barn is multipurpose and is often used for community gatherings.

Aside from a few people, Don and I didn't know a soul. And yet – everyone went out of his (or in my case, her) way to introduce him/herself and welcome us to the event. It was absolutely lovely to feel so embraced by this group of strangers.

There were children everywhere, ranging from infants in arms to teens. Kids dashed around engaging in spontaneous games of ring-around-the-rosey and hide-and-seek. Adults ranged from young parents to elderly grandparents and great-grandparents. I'm guessing there were maybe 100 people in attendance.

The pageant opened with a prayer, and then a couple of community carols in which everyone in the audience belted out holiday favorites (we all had hymnbooks on our chairs). Then the school children, ranging in age from about five through fourteen, stepped up and sang their hearts out. And here's the thing – these kids had practiced. They knew every word and line, and they sang it acapella with impressive harmony. They recited some poetry that even the five-year-old knew flawlessly. It was terrific.

Then a group of nine adults took the stage, and they also sang a number of pieces acapella, and they were (in my opinion) polished enough to be professionally recorded. Just beautiful.

After this, the whole audience was invited to pick some favorite Christmas hymns to sing, after which the program closed with a prayer. Everyone mingled to socialize, then lined up for a potluck meal.

I came away deeply impressed by the whole thing. In some ways, it was a snapshot of America's hope. Here was a group of God-fearing, hard-working, community-minded, family-oriented people, young and old, children and elderly, gathering to celebrate Christmas ... and welcoming strangers into their midst.

As I said, Don has been working with this one man on a community project, and he's come to appreciate the Mennonite church and its members for their enthusiastic community involvement and genuinely pious lifestyle.

For the last several years, in our last location and now here in our current home, we've noticed a large influx of Mennonites from other parts of the country. I, for one, welcome them with open arms. We simply couldn't ask for better neighbors.

Gathering Christmas boughs

Last week, Older Daughter wanted to collect some Christmas boughs for decorating the house. Usually she and I drive into the mountains with Darcy to do this, and this time we decided to move fast since we were trying to beat a spike of rain moving in.

We haven't had any snow yet this winter (which is typical; generally we get a massive whomp of the white stuff after New Year's), but as we climbed in elevation there was a modest and festive amount on the ground.

Darcy, needless to say, was thrilled by the excursion, which supplanted his usual morning walk. As I told Older Daughter, I was giving him at most thirty seconds before that excitement translated into taking a dump once he was released from the car.

As it turns out, it was closer to forty seconds...

...and then he unleashed not one, but two enormous loads. Good thing I brought bags.

After that he felt much better and happily romped along the road.

While Older Daughter carefully selected cedar branches (taking no more than one per tree)...

...I observed snowberries, something we had everywhere in our last location but don't have near our current home.

Here's Older Daughter's car, parked among the trees.

Cedar branches are beautiful, perfect for draping.

Because the road we were on is a maintained logging road winding deep into the mountains, much of it had a steep dropoff on one side.

We had to select branches that overhung the road.

We filled a tub with branches and came home, ready to decorate the house.

I like being so close to the mountains that we can take a short jaunt into the higher elevations. So, apparently, does Mr. Darcy.

Another seating area

There is a YouTube real estate enthusiast named Enes Yilmazer who makes videos (filmed by his son) in which he tours mansions, yachts, and other high-end facilities of the Rich and Famous. Many of the properties he films are on the market, and he works with the realtors representing the properties to showcase the amenities. We're talking homes worth tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars.

Once in a while I'll watch one of his videos to catch a glimpse of how the upper crust lives. The vast majority of the time, Mr. Yilmazer is showcasing some sleek and modern monstrosity that doesn't appeal to me at all. Still, it's interesting brain candy to view during down time.

A random moment from one such video (I can't remember which one) stuck in my head. In the clip, Mr. Yilmazer walked from one wing of a house to another, and he passed by a large area that held an expensive sectional couch but was otherwise empty. He waved casually toward the couch and said, "And another seating area..." in passing as he made his way toward the other wing.

It was the way he said "And another seating area..." that stuck in my head, because I remember thinking, "Seating area for whom?" The house he was showcasing was so massive, and it already had so many other "seating areas," that I'm certain no one would ever frequent this remote and forgotten sectional couch at all. It just needed some sort of furniture to fill an otherwise vacant space.

And here's the thing: The room/corridor through which Mr. Yilmazer was passing easily surpassed in size the footprint of our own home.

I thought about this recently because our house is currently in chaos, cluttered with the detritus that comes from living, working, and engaging in projects within the confines of 1,000 square feet.

In the living room, there was a pile of towels on the coffee table, burying a pot of heated milk to make cheese culture.

In the library, I was drying flannel sheets on racks (I have to dry everything indoors during the winter, of course).

Next to the clothes-drying racks are crates of ripening spaghetti squash. The ones in the top-most crate will be going to church with us to pass out to interested congregants (hence the sign, which reads "Spaghetti squash – help yourself).

As usual, the kitchen was the most active room of all. Older Daughter was engaged in a large production run of tankards, and in winter many steps involving glue must be done indoors.

On the stove, she was cooking a meal.

In one corner, we had put aside a few gallons of drinking water in preparation for the anticipated power outages from last week's wind storm.

In another corner, washed and cleaned milking buckets, milk containers, and a fresh block of cheddar cheese air drying before I wax it.

Anyway, you get the idea. The house was a mess.

But here's the thing: It's a mess because we use it. We live here. We work here. Once in a while, we even entertain here (at which point, of course, we clean it up). We have no interest in, or space for, a distant unused "seating area."

We've known people with large homes. Some friends who were in the potluck rotation at our last place had a massive and gorgeous home that easily held dozens of people, during which time their seating areas were in constant use.

For those whose focus is entertaining (and not homesteading, like us), there seems to be a breaking point in home size. Up to a point, a large home's square footage is an advantage, with space enough for gracious hosting. Beyond that point, however, you get lost and distant seating areas forever unused, but which must still be furnished, cleaned, and heated.

Our home is small and sometimes chaotic, but at least I can honestly say we use every square inch of it.

Five years ago today

Five years ago today, we stumbled into our new home, exhausted beyond belief. (For a review of that chaotic period of moving from our old place, see here, here, and here.) Honestly, we felt that move took a couple years off our lives. It's one of the reasons we've concluded we're never moving again, barring unforeseen circumstances.

We (mostly Don) have made endless improvements during the last five years. He graveled the driveway. He built a pantry and built a library. He installed the wood cookstove. In the barn, he's built two shops (the one Older Daughter uses for the woodcraft business, plus his "man cave"); built two storage lofts above those shops; built a storage room; and built a feed box for the cows. He addressed some enormous plumbing woes in the house (at which time he also built an outdoor shower) and we had a 500-gallon propane tank installed. He did some much-needed deck repair work. We had a massive yard sale to offload things we no longer needed. We fenced in a corral for the animals, fenced the pasture, and (obviously) got cows. Don partitioned the house, including a separate entrance and porch, for Older Daughter's quarters when she took over the woodcraft business. We fenced a yard for Darcy, began the installation of a comprehensive garden, and planted blueberries and peaches. He built a woodshed and installed a roof-runoff system for rainwater collection.

And this doesn't count a plethora of smaller projects, most of them accomplished by Don: Building gates, repairing a clothes-drying rack, installing fairy lights on the porch, improving a jar washer, making a shelf for holding cook books, random graveling projects, trimming an overgrown grove of trees, things like that.

This past year we (mostly Don) accomplished yet more projects. He built a deck storage room, as well as all the shelves, movable shelving units, and doors it required. We continued to build up the garden infrastructure, including the critical component of super-dooper high deer fencing.

Don built a cheese press. He started building an awning for the barn. He built a calf pen and milking stall.

We subdivided the main pasture. We fenced the sacrifice pasture.

This doesn't count for endless smaller projects Don has accomplished in the last year: Building and insulating a well house, building a door for the well house, installing a sturdy floor in a shed we hope to someday turn into a guest house, building a box for the tractor to transport stuff, building a haybale-moving platform, building a large firepit, and rocking in the corral.

And, of course, there's our writing: Dozens of articles, several inspirational romances, and our self-published indy romance.

So yeah, we've accomplished a lot in five years. No complaints.

Happy birthday, Older Daughter!

Today is Older Daughter's birthday!

We had nothing special planned for the day – we're not big on going overboard for birthdays – but we got her a French silk pie and a gift card to her favorite café, and that was about the extent of it.

But we're all together and all healthy, so that's what matters.

And here's the obligatory newborn photo, just to embarrass her (smile).

Stormy weather and radio drama

Well, yesterday's windstorm has come and gone. Rather to our surprise, we only lost power for about eight hours.

Don was listening to the radio drama on the sheriff's scanner, and let me tell you, there was mayhem all over the region. Every law enforcement officer, emergency response personnel, and power company lineman was on duty, trying to keep ahead of the chaos. There were trees and power lines down everywhere. Many roads were additionally blocked by falling rocks.

"Well, it's a good time for a little day drinking," joked Older Daughter at 7:45 am, putting a dollop of Irish cream in her hot chocolate. 

The wind was positively insane. We expected trees down all over the place, but the only damage we noticed on our property was a tree toppled over in our tiny grove of black hawthorn.

The same couldn't be said for a neighbor, who had a massive pine come down just behind his pickup truck, blocking him in. Miraculously his vehicle escaped all but minor scratches, but he said it took him four hours to chainsaw up the tree enough to clear the blockage.

During the day, when Older Daughter's side of the house was getting chilly, she opened the connecting door and let Frumpkin into the main part of the house, where the woodstove kept things cozy. Darcy – who hates cats – understands this is one cat towards whom he must be respectful. He's a Good Boi, is Darcy.

Frumpkin was very curious about the Christmas tree.

Even though the wind was still shrieking, somehow the hard-working linemen managed to get our power back on by mid-afternoon.

Our pastor called in the evening to check in on us. Even though he and his family are at a higher elevation and had stronger winds, their power had stayed on and they were fine. However he told us an older couple in our church had part of their roof torn off. Another family had something like 40+ trees come down on their property, taking out most of the fences and causing them to scramble to contain livestock. They're still without power and are staying with our pastor for a few days.

Don and I told our pastor we're available to help re-shingle roofs or re-string fences as necessary. At this point everyone is still assessing damage, so we'll find out more in the next couple of days.

We have snow and rain moving in today and tomorrow, with wind (not as strong) predicted for tonight. You can see some snow flurries in front of the mountains below.

I guess it's winter.

Bracing for wind

We are expecting high winds (and a bit of rain) in the next 24 hours (Tuesday night into Wednesday morning).

The weather report is full of dire warnings about gusts up to 60 to 70 mph.

We're not the only ones impacted. It's being called a "coast to coast storm."

Ever since the "Windstorm 2015" ten years ago (considered by the regional power company to be the worst disaster in its 100+ year history), we've taken threats of wind very seriously.

I realize our weather is mild compared to the bitter cold they're experiencing in the northeast, or the catastrophic flooding hitting the Pacific northwest. Nonetheless, as with any winter weather, it's best to hope for the best but brace for the worst.

We're in a reasonably protected area, so I don't expect too much impact from the wind. What we do expect, however, is for the power to go out, perhaps for days.

The wind is supposed to hit overnight, so we spent today battening down the hatches. We cleaned up the porches, put things away in the yard, and moved hay under cover. We tied down tarps and coiled hoses.

The weather isn't particularly cold, but I brought in an extra load of firewood to store on the porch anyway.

I vacuumed the house and did laundry. We all took showers.

We tipped the porch rockers over, since we know from experience they'll get tipped anyway.

We charged all the battery backups...

...as well as our rechargeable lanterns.

We topped off the oil lamps as well.

Earlier we had drained our 1500-gallon roof-runoff water tank, predicting cold weather (the tank isn't insulated, so we drain it in the winter). However we decided to let it refill a bit, just in case we need livestock water or additional household water. 

I made an extra loaf of bread.

I also tied the cattle panels to the diagonal poles around the peaches and blueberries. High winds tend to knock over the panels, which is annoying but not damaging.

In general, however, we're pretty well prepared for multi-day power outages. We've been through them before. Besides, for all we know, this whole thing will be a big nothingburger.

But then again, it may not.