Propagating Grapes and Plums

Jesus said, 

"I am the vine, you are the branches. 

If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; 

apart from me you can do nothing." 

John 15:5

Because I still have hopes that the potential farm buyer's financing will eventually go through, I am trying to proceed living within that reality. One part of that reality is that there are no grape vines or plum trees at the new property- a problem that should be easily solved, and even satisfies my deep nostalgic side, by propagation. Propagation, in its simplest terms, just means to take what you have and multiply it. We have an abundance of grape vines and plum trees on the farm, besides an abundance of perfectly composted black dirt, so I took a chance on the World Wide Web being accurate and set off to clip some branches to try the experiment.

So far, so good.

A couple of weeks ago I cut some healthy, still dormant vines/branches (research says to cut them at an angle for best results) about 9-15 inches long that included several buds each, then put them in a vase to soak one end in water to get them started well. Some of the grape vines have already started budding, but I understand that some may take up to two months to show growth. Yesterday I dug out some planters from the garage and filled them with black gold from the compost pile, then gently pushed the cut end of the branches into the dirt. I covered each pot with a plastic bag and set them in a south facing window to indulge in all the sunshine they want. Hopefully, after a few weeks of watering and care, there will be an abundance of beautiful new roots and healthy, young plants to transfer to their new, permanent homes.

The Busy Season

We wake up tired these days and go to bed even more tired yet. The sun starts shining earlier, and sets later, and our bodies believe that they have to keep up with it. As long as that orbiting ball of fire is making its trek across the sky we assume that there must still be time to finish one more project.

The last of the seven bottle calves are close to being weaned. The vast difference between the couple months of their births making the red and white steer appear tiny in contrast to its more mature counterparts. The Black Angus are dwarfed under the Holsteins tall, lanky forms, their growth appearing outward rather than up.

There are still five does milking, with a total of thirteen goats in all. Too many bucks make up the lot of them, with one Craigslist reply away from reducing our herd. Soon it will be weaning time for the kids as well, which puts another item on the never ending list: more goat fencing.

Our young replacement pullets are thriving, and the new clutch of Silkie chicks are protected well under the wings of their possessive momma. One little black fluff ball doesn't realize it is a Light Brahma mix  that was adopted into the Bantam family when we snuck some extra eggs under the broody hen. Soon it will tower over its siblings.

The garden is growing weeds faster than edible plants it seems, and if we don't catch up on our daily barrage we may just have to give up. Using all manual labor, busy hands digging deep in the sandy soil to remove pesky roots, makes for buff muscles and nice farmers tans.

Several new fruit trees are growing well- four peach and another pear, plus some Saskatoon blueberries that the deer seem to have acquired a taste for which continue to remind me that tree fencing needs to be wrote on that list as well. We are attempting blueberries yet again, hoping for a freezer full of them one year. There may be at least a taste for everybody in a few days if we can keep the birds away from them.

Overall, it's been another season of missing. Intensely missing my son. Longing for eternity to begin.

Almost too tired to even grieve, the pain still refuses to end. Flashbacks enjoy popping into my weary brain lately, attacking when I have little resolve to fight them off. The balance of living before the accident and after is continuous. Life goes on. A mother's heart doesn't want to. Joy is rarely ever bereft of the longing. Laughter only hides the scar, still too fresh to ignore. Somehow living here, longing to be there. Finding purpose in one more calf bottle, pulling one more weed, storing up one more treasure, praying one more prayer for all these young souls that surround me, hoping for hope, waiting for what is not yet.

I continue to be reminded that the year of the Lord's favor will come. He will:

"Provide for those who grieve in Zion-

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness in the morning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor."

Isaiah 61:3

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 tells me to not grieve like those without hope, or even to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. I believe that Jesus died and rose again and also that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. The familiar words almost become rote in my tired state. I have repeated them so often that it becomes hard to make them exciting lately. I pray for God to wake me up to the gospel again, remembering those same words being uttered just before the accident.

Eternity.

I stop and ponder the word again. Eternity. Going insane wondering what Trent is doing there, wondering why mine is taking so long to begin. Wondering what to do in the meantime. Begging that my children would all be found there in Heaven together.

A Farm Catch-All

Today was pig loading day. More evidence that Summer really is winding down as we head into Fall. Our seven pigs that we purchased in April were a month bigger than we had hoped to raise them, but it only means more bacon for us and a few other families who help support our farming endeavors. We will all look forward to home grown pork in our freezers. Again, we prayed before the locker plant truck arrived, and again, the driver left smiling rather than cursing. They didn't walk single file into the trailer with no prodding like previous years, but there wasn't a fight either.

The garden is dwindling down for the season, and soon it will be retired to rest for the winter. We are already enjoying the harvest of canned pickles which we were desperately short of the last couple of seasons. The freezer has a nice supply of corn and green beans, besides all the veggies we ate throughout the summer. A few tomatoes are still clinging to the vines, but another picking should clean them out. Soon the pumpkins will be baked and frozen for all those yummy pumpkin bars and breads this winter. The goofy crossbred squash, and the zucchini that we couldn't come up with one more recipe for, is being enjoyed by the rabbits and the chickens.

The abundance of rogue sunflowers are being fed to the goats. Breeding season is upon us already, and we are beginning to dream of spotted doelings in February to make up for our buckling year this spring. Our last little buck is scheduled to be picked up and brought to his new home {Lord willing} by another happy Craigslist customer. This will be the first year in a long time that we don't have major projects to finish before the snow flies, and probably the first year that I am too tired in every way to even dream up extra projects... except possibly that screen porch that is still waiting for a roof...

One Black Horse: Cheap!

Although they don't pull their fare share around here to cover feed costs, the horses continue to be "grand-fathered in" when it comes time to buy hay every winter. In an attempt to make them earn their keep, and because we enjoyed our ride so much yesterday, the girls and I took our mighty beasts out to actually accomplish some farm work yesterday.

We have a great big Black Walnut tree in our yard that drops walnuts every year, and therefore, every spring I have a yard full of little Black Walnut trees shooting up amongst the grass. Micah had gathered up a bunch of them into a tub the other day (I think it was for ammunition for a walnut war with the cousins), so the girls and I got the brilliant idea to plant a "retirement" crop. Meaning, that at the time we would consider retiring, we could harvest the tree's and put the money in the bank. We loaded them up into the big saddle bag and took the horses out to plant them.

Except there was one little problem . . . since we rode bareback, neither Alexis or I could get back up on our horses if we dismounted. So, since Grace was the only one with a short enough horse to be able to get back on, she volunteered to throw/plant them for us. Lord willing, some of them will be spared by the squirrels and we will have some trees to fill in where a wind break is needed anyway.

Now comes the cheap horse part:

If Lightning didn't have a lifetime history, going back to my childhood, I would have shipped her off myself on the first trailer to come along. Crazy horse. You'd think she was two instead of twenty, or had never seen those trails before, or ever been third in line behind the same horse for the past umpteen years. It never fails, especially during the first rides after a winter break, that she has to play "Hi-Ho Silver" and rear~ with me on top of her. I didn't technically fall off, because I chose to slide off her rump rather than have a thousand pound horse land on top of me when the centrifugal force continued to lean my way rather than forward. I could have barbecued her for supper myself. And of course, the rest of the ride was spent holding tightly to the reins and working on backing and circling. As soon as she got the hackamore off, though, she expected her treat. I almost didn't give her one. Little black bugger; I should have taken the four-wheeler instead.

Seeds

There was a hard frost a couple of weeks back which meant the end of everything green in the garden. I tend to think that there can only be beauty in the living, thriving plants . . . but my eyes saw differently as I worked harvesting the flower seeds the other day.

Jesus replied . . .

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies,

it remains only a single seed.

But if it dies, it produces many seeds."

John 12:23-24

I saw the beauty in these dry, dead plants. I remembered when the soil was tilled months ago and the flower seeds were individually placed in the ground, covered tenderly, and even prayed over. I remembered how they sprang up slowly, then overtook their designated rows, to eventually bring vibrant color to the vegetable garden. Now, though brown and dead, their beauty shines just as bright if one is able to look past the cold winter ahead and dream about next spring.

The potential of just one of these seeds planted in the ground after months of freezing temperatures could literally last my lifetime and beyond.

But only by harvesting them, collecting them, and then being faithful to plant them yet again.

Which means, ultimately, releasing them to grow where God allows them to grow.

"The man who loves his life will lose it,

while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servants also will be.

My Father will honor the one who serves me.

Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say?

'Father, save me from this hour?'

No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.

Father, glorify your name."

{Jesus}

The Great Pumpkin Harvest

The Harvest

The garden has kept us busy the past couple of weeks. We have had our fill of corn-on-the-cob meals and had plenty to freeze, as well. The beans are almost done, and the rabbits are enjoying the feast of the left over greens.
The tomatoes are about done, and the kids are begging for another Tomato Schmear.

The zucchini and summer squash are nearly gone. We have enjoyed stuffed zucchini this summer, froze several bags to make bread this winter, and the rest were a nice supplement for the chickens and pigs.
The sunflowers are huge! Their heads are heavy and the seeds are drying out. Maybe we'll try roasting some, or maybe we'll feed them to the goats again, or maybe we'll leave them as a treat for the birds this winter and let the rogue plants fill our garden next spring.
The search for the great pumpkin has begun. There are lots of big, orange ones out there amongst the vines and the variety of squash that is almost ready. In honor of Trent we planted blue pumpkins this year. I think I'll save some seeds for next year and see what we get.

The flowers are still beautiful, but are beginning to dry as well. Soon, we will be harvesting seeds for next year. We will have to enjoy them before the frost wipes them out in a couple of weeks.

The morning glories have bloomed in abundance finally~ just not on my arbor this year. It's hard to believe that another harvest is almost complete. We are thanking God for His provision yet again.

Flowers, Flowers, Flowers