On the move again

Real quick post tonight since it is late... I'm thinking about reviving the blog a bit, sharing some of our journey with Bean and now Spud as well.  Anyone interested?  Whether you're interested or not, I may or may not still post.  So, pretending I never stopped...
The last 3 months or so have been pretty crazy in the Ayala household.  My sister came back for a visit from Israel, Bean turned 3 (WHAT?!?), Spud was born, Christmas happened, David's mom came to visit for a couple weeks in January and then returned to Texas.  After returning to Texas, she succumbed to the cancer that she had been fighting and died, so David went down to Texas to settle things there, leaving me and the boys at our York st house to pack up and get ready to move.  David came home and about 2 weeks later we were on our way to an apartment in London.  And those are just the cliff's notes!

Why London?
London is where Robarts School for the Deaf is.  It is where we feel Bean will do the best for education.  It hasn't been an easy decision and I'll try to post more about why we decided to go this route at another time.  For now though, just a couple pictures before I hop into bed.

Introducing Spud

Making memories with Grandma

Brothers:

Rhythms

For the majority of my life thus far I have been a formal student - that is, enrolled in some type of formal academic program.  I lived and breathed and slept and sweated and cried academia.  My life had a rhythm that was dictated from outside of itself - the rhythm of the school year. It ebbed and flowed like the tide, cresting at midterms and finals, and entering a trough during the hot summer months, only to start up again in the fall. There were smaller troughs throughout the year when we had short breaks for Christmas, Easter, March, Thanksgiving and other such occasions.  Th rhythm was as predictable as it was familiar.   Busy times and less busy times.  Stressful times and less stressful times.

I'm still a student, though at a much slower pace, but primarily I am a mother.  My life has a different rhythm now, although it is still dictated outside of itself - this time by a squirmy little Bean rather than a calendar.  Our days settle into a rhythm of eating, sleeping, toileting, playing...however the rhythm is not nearly as predictable or familiar as the academic rhythm was.  If the academic rhythm was a steady march the rhythm of being a mom is a swing dance inspired by a group who is making up the music as they go along.

Along with the daily rhythm of being a mom comes the rhythm of living on the farm.  This rhythm not only goes from day to day but also cycles through the year.  While we don't plant seed (except for a few small container gardens) and will not (likely) be harvesting any hay this year, the rhythm of farm life is still dictated by the weather and cycles through the year, with only minor variations from year to year.  Spring brings the Alpaca Ontario show, followed by shearing, birthing, breeding, fencing and all manner of other summer activities - with swim team thrown in there for good measure.  The fall brings the Rockton Fair and the Alpaca Ontario sponsored fall show (this year it will be the all new Cavalcade of Champions), followed by Christmas craft shows.  The rhythm of farm life could be compared to a square dance - dances between couples (the day to day rhythm) taking place within the larger dance of the square (the yearly rhythm).

Dancing to the rhythm allows us to find order in our lives.  The rhythm give us all something in common, a common link, a common beat.  However, no matter the dance there is a something that all dances have in common: the need for rest.

When I got sick in 2008 I learned that my dance, my own personal rhythm would require more rests than the average dance.  My rhythm was slower.  There were are times when I forget that my rhythm is slower, that my dance requires great rests, and I pay dearly for those times.  It would be an untruth to say that I have completely embraced this slower pace of life - there are still times it frustrates me to no end that I have to slow down.  But it has taught me to savor the slow times.  It has taught me that without the rests, the dance becomes a dance marathon where you dance feverishly until you drop and a rest becomes forced.  Forced rests are not nearly enjoyable as rests that you choose - take it from someone who has been forced to rest many times.

You can't stop the dance altogether and you can't completely change the rhythm - especially when it is a rhythm from without - but you can choose to sit out part of the dance.  You can choose to take a pause, sit a spell, rest, and then join back into the dance.  I think that all dances would be better, and all dancers would do better, if our rhythms had more breaks, more rests, built in.  Life is not a dance marathon (unless dance marathons are your thing), but a dance party.  Take time to sip some punch, eat some chips, and catch up with friends.

The beat goes on!

Some rhythms are just plain special in and of themselves....

More Bean

While my little Bean sleeps I figured I'd post some more cuteness...

A little monkey

There is a Bean in there somewhere...

Bean's first Christmas!

Welcome Samuel!

So the October-December update might come later, or it might not.  There's more exciting things to talk about now! Namely, one thing, who is actually a little tiny person!

Samuel David Ayala, December 13, 2013

What follows is Samuel's birth story, for anyone who is interested. As far as I can tell it's not overly graphic, but my perception may be a little skewed. In David's opinion the one thing I didn't stress enough is how loud I was towards the end - minor details. So here it is:

Samuel’s birth story started back in March, the way most every birth story starts.  If you don’t know how that is, ask your mother!  The first four months of his birth story were spent making me sick.  The next five were spent with me eating ridiculous amounts of food and sleeping lots…  All in all, pretty typical.  That is until Wednesday December 11, 2013.

David and I were both way overtired and decided to put ourselves to bed early.  Our lights were out by 9:30, which turns out to be a really good thing.  About 11:00 I woke up with a strange sensation of wetness.  My water had definitely broken. I wasn't having much in the way of contractions, but we called the midwife and made sure everything was ready, just in case.  Then we went back to bed.  I slept on and off until about 4am and then the combination of contractions and excitement woke me up.

At 6am, when everyone else got up for morning chores I moved to the bathtub to try and relax.  By about 9am, my contractions were about 5 minutes apart.  We called the midwife again and I crawled back into bed to try and rest.  Amazingly, I slept.  The midwife arrived about 10:30 (it was a busy day for the midwives!) and when I woke up about 11 she checked me.  I was only 2cm, so she told me to rest as much as I could and call when things changed. 

I had some lunch and got David to fill up the birthing pool.  Then I went and hung out there.  It was wonderful.  Whoever invented birthing pools with inflatable floors was a genius! David set things up so my laptop could be down there with me and I distracted myself online and breathed easily through my contractions. Once the water cooled off, I got out and walked around for a bit, still breathing easily through my contractions.

By 4pm or so, the contractions started to get stronger.  Breathing quietly through them wasn't working as well.  I was back in the birthing pool.  David got supper started upstairs and then came to join me in the birthing pool.  We worked through contractions together.  Things seemed to be picking up.  David called the midwife again and we continued to work through things.  Once the midwife arrived, she checked the baby’s heart rate (perfect!) and my blood pressure (also perfect).  Things continued to progress, getting more and more intense.  I handled things alright at first…time started to blur.  I decided that I wanted supper and Isaac brought me some (he was a very excited and attentive uncle-to-be).  I managed about half a dozen bites.  Then I started throwing up.   Time continued to blur, alternating between contractions and throwing up.  At one point mom brought me my evening meds and I promptly threw them back up.

After about 24 hours of labor (roughly… I wasn't watching the time too closely) I began to reach my limit.  The intensity of the contractions had almost peaked (I didn't know that at the time) and I was exhausted.  We moved from the birthing pool to my bed so that I could try and rest better between them.  That only worked so well, because no sooner had we gotten upstairs than the contractions came closer and closer together.  At one point I was shamelessly begging for something to ease the pain – even though I knew I really didn't want anything to interfere with the baby.   We considered a transfer to hospital so that I could get something for pain – however, the thought of making the transfer was almost unbearable – not just the car ride there in a worsening storm, but the psychological aspect of perceived failure at a homebirth.  The midwife checked me (first check since the morning) and told me that all I had to do was get the baby beyond the lip of my cervix and it would be done.  We were almost there.

We didn't transfer to the hospital.  Instead I moved to the bathroom where I continued to throw up and bellow through contractions (no more quietly breathing through them!).  David went to the bedroom to lie down.  I don’t think he slept though.  Soon I felt the urge to push.  I could feel the baby's head coming.  The midwife called David to come back in.  With a few more pushes Samuel was born into David’s hands and then placed onto my chest.  David moved behind me to support me as I cradled my newborn son on my chest.  We sat like that for a while until I passed out (oops!). David was a champ and brought me water sweetened with honey as well as a spoonful of honey while the midwife held my feet up and I laid flat on the floor. It didn't take long before my blood pressure stabilized and I was able to sit up with my baby on my chest again. Once the cord stopped pulsing, David cut it and we announced the name of our little Bean. 

While it wasn't the quiet, gentle, hypno-birth I had dreamed about, the result was a beautiful little boy – Samuel David, 7 lbs, 14 oz, and 22 inches long. 

snuggled up after a bath

Snuggling with Daddy

Update July - September

Catchy title, right?  I know... I do what I can. So I haven't actually posted anything but five-minute Friday posts since July (!) so there is a lot of ground to cover!  So a summary will have to suffice.
July: Everyone in the big house was gone for Canadian Jamboree (big Scout to-do out West) and David and I ran the farm.  We dealt with a pneumonia outbreak among the crias and lived to tell about it!  Though the learning curve was steep for both of us.

This was one of our sick crias - he's healthy and rambunctious now!

August: David and I built a changing table for Bean. We also celebrated our first wedding anniversary and David left to return to school in Iowa for the year.

The unpainted finished change table

Celebrating our anniversary at the Lego store

Waving good-bye at the train station as David left to go back to school

September: Mom and I went to an alpaca seminar in Ohio and learned how to assist alpacas in difficult births.  Later in the month we went to a wedding in Iowa and got to visit David and other friends!

Alpaca course - learning to deliver difficult crias

Wedding in Iowa

David-Monkey waking up David-Human 

Sad good-byes (notice the growing belly!)

Visiting Summer

Visiting Chelsea Bell

Paying a surprise visit to Kathy

Visiting with Talia

And that's all for this post.  Hopefully I'll get October's update up soon...No promises though.   Facebook, of course, has more pictures!

Five Minute Friday: Tree

This blog has fallen on the wayside...far too long without a post.  I'll try and get a post up in the next few days and let you all (if anyone actually reads this) know what's been going on.  However, it is Friday, and I'm sitting at the computer, so I'm going to participate in Five-Minute Friday.  You can join the party here. This week's prompt is "Tree"

Start:
When I hear the word tree I think of two things - first I think of the plant that grows in abundance around our house... tall, straight, pointing to the sky, fallen down, dead, chopped for firewood, covered in leaves, bare, sticky with pine sap...  And then I think of the other kind of tree.  The family tree.  Family trees have always been important to my family, on both sides.  Family trees tell us where we came from, who we came from, what our history is, and how we are connected in this world.  But what they don't tell us is our future.  A family tree only looks back - it cannot look forward.
However a plant-tree can look both forward and backward.  If it were sentient, it could look back and remember what it was like to be a sapling, a slender shoot coming up from the ground.  And it could look forward to what it will be - big and strong, growing both in height and diameter and weather, space and time allow.  For a tree, there is only one path it can take, and that is the path of all trees.  It will continue to grow, grow, and grow some more.
Our family trees are different.  We can look back but not forward.  We have the whole world in front of us and can grow to be whatever it is that we want to be.  There is no set path for us.  We can be astronauts or doctors or mothers....

Stop.

January 26

The snow is falling in big heavy flakes outside our window and I'm settled down with a cup of orange juice, David is listening to the sound track from Aladdin, and our three fish are swimming happily in their tank.  So far today I've baked bread, taken a nap, and worked out. (and cleaned up cria vomit, but that's something I'd rather not think too deeply on).  It's a good day.  And since it's such a good day, I thought I'd take a few moments and update everyone on what's been going on.
This month has been especially busy with appointments of various sorts. We knew they were coming so none of them were really surprises, but they've kept us busy.
One of the most exciting appointments of this month was to my audiologist in London to get my new hearing aid!  My right hearing aid had an unfortunate accident this past fall and met with an untimely death.  Based on the age of the hearing aid and the progression of my hearing loss, it was a better choice to replace it completely than to try and have it repaired.  So, earlier this month I picked up my spiffy new, blue, behind the ear (BTE), Quantum 12, Unitron, hearing aid.  See?

The BTE style is new to me, but so far, I'm loving it, with one exception.  It pinches a bit at the top of my ear.  I see my audiologist again this week for a test in the booth and hopefully to get the tube readjusted so it doesn't pinch.  It has way more bells and whistles than any of my other hearing aids have ever had and one of the best things is I can wear it outside when it is windy and not be overwhelmed by wind noise!

On the same day that I got my new hearing aid, I also met with my neurologist (also in London - it was nice to combine both visits in one trip, since London is quite a drive and it is winter).  The reason we'd requested the meeting with the neurologist was to see about taking me off of one of my medications, Depakote.  Depakote has many undesirable side-effects, and although it was controlling the seizures and helping with the migraines, David and I felt it was time to see about switching it out to something friendlier.  The neurologist agreed and we have started to put me on a drug called Lamictal.  It should also help with the seizures and migraines - with less negative side effects.  It will take a total of 14 weeks to put me on the Lamictal and off the Depakote, putting as near the end of April before the transition is complete, if all goes well. So far everything is going well, though I do increase my dose of Lamictal this coming week.  Prayers that the transition continues to go well would be appreciated. 

That same day I also gravity checked a particularly icy spot in a parking lot and sprained my knee and ankle...and then thought it was a good idea to go to the mall to "walk it off".   I may have heard a thing or two about that from my physical therapist at my next visit.  Oops!

Speaking of my physical therapist, I started physio early in the month to deal with a very painful hip.  The hip has been giving me trouble for many months now and it was just a matter of waiting for the physio department and my schedule to have openings at the same time.  Right now we are doing a mixture of stretches, ultrasound and electro-therapy to try and reduce the inflammation and make it not hurt.  It's going slow, but improving. It does involve driving to the hospital twice a week to get it worked on though, which eats up about 3-4 hours a week total (driving time + treatment time).

The other big thing this month is that I have started school again.  I am doing 1 class, online, and so far it is going well.  I'm not even behind yet!  It's the same class that I tried to take last semester but had to stop when my health took a nose-dive. So far, I haven't gotten to any new material, but I'm processing the old material better now. 

One last picture to close this off.  This is how David and Mauschen like to spend their lazy afternoons (when we have them...which is rare)

(I may be guilty of tickling those toes when they are stretched out like that)

Living at "home"

On occasion I'm asked how it is living with my parents...for clarity's sake, David and I don't actually live with my parents, but live in an apartment attached to their house. It's a difference.  It means there is a solid door that we can shut between our place and theirs. It means we have our own washer/dryer, shower, bathroom, etc.  It means we (usually) eat our own meals in our own space.
But it's also much the same.  We're still available for daily chores and when they need help on the farm outside of regular farm hours.  We still sometimes share meals.  I can still borrow ingredients from mom if her  pantry has something that mine doesn't (and vice versa!).  We share the family vehicles. We share a hot water heater and an oven. They are still available for company so it's not as lonely.
And the best part: We have a great rent agreement worked out where we work for part of our rent and utilities.
But sometimes...sometimes it's tough.  Sometimes you don't want your parents to be around.  Sometimes, when all my siblings are home it is louder than anywhere I have lived since high school, and it's overwhelming. Sometimes you don't want your parents knowing how long you sleep in or how late you stay out. Sometimes you don't want to hear the advice and opinions of your family.
But sometimes...sometimes it's wonderful. Sometimes you want to be with your parents, you want to learn from them.  Sometimes the siblings being home create a lively sense and you simply can't be lonely.  Sometimes it's nice to know that some one is keeping half an eye on you and what you do.  And it's amazing to have access to a vehicle (we couldn't afford insurance on one at this point).
In some cultures this living arrangement is normal, or at least something similar. And I wonder if they aren't on to something. By living this way, separately together, we are consuming less resources, we are combining forces when it comes to farm work (we did chores with only 3 people this morning, instead of the usual 6... it makes a big difference), and we are learning from each other.
The bottom line:  At this point, this is how things are and I'm happy with it.  It's a good situation.

Christmas Fun

In our family (meaning, in this case, my parents and siblings) we have a Christmas tradition in which each sibling comes up with a "to share" gift.  This gift is always edible and is cleared with mom beforehand to make sure we get food from all the food groups.  Then, as we open gifts on Christmas day, every so often we will open a "to share" gift and share it around. By the end of gift opening we are all quite full.
This year David and I decided we were doing veggies and dip.  But we didn't want to just do a veggie tray...so we did a veggie tree!

My favorite were the little yellow stars.  We made them using a Linzer tart cutter.  David cut out the big star for the top. 

4.5 out of 5

It's not very often that I give a restaurant 4.5 out of 5 stars, but it happened Friday.  My mom arrived just as I was finishing class on Friday and we headed to Grand Rapids to meet my cousin for lunch.  The drive was horrible.  We hadn't had much "weather" all winter and then sure enough as mom is driving into Holland we get an icky icky storm.  Go figure. My cousin had recommended that we stop by a little place called "Marie Catrib's", so I'd googled the the address and that's where we headed.  It was a little crowded in the store, so we had to wait a moment and then we were seated at a cozy table (we could have waited longer and sat less cozily, but we're all family and have been even cozier before).  The waiter brought the menu and I began to look over it.  I saw some information about gluten free bread and the next time the waiter came back we inquired further into it. The initial screening on all four types of gluten free bread came back positive. I had choices. I probably should have inquired further, but I didn't want to jeopardize anything, so I took a bit of a leap of faith.  I actually cried as I looked over the menu and realized I had choices.  Lots of choices.  I ordered a roast beef sandwich without the cheese and without some sort of sauce that had way too many vowels in it because the sauce was not Joy-friendly.  The sandwich came and I just looked at it. Here was an honest to goodness sandwich, made in a restaurant, that was safe for me to eat.  I didn't look at it long before I dug in.  It was delicious. Phenomenal.  I even got to get up and look at the dessert  case, but passed on desserts because they didn't have an ingredient list handy and Marie was at the doctor and couldn't be reached.
The service was excellent, the food was delicious.  The only thing that would have moved this restaurant from a 4.5 to a 5 would have been to have ingredient lists handy so I could have thoroughly checked things. I really wasn't supposed to have that many carbs at that point in time (I'm still paying for that!), but if I get a chance to go there again, carb restrictions or not, I'm going!

Happy News

Hello Friends and Family and others,
On Sunday January 8 I left for Iowa with my parents, intent on seeing my boyfriend.  On Saturday January 14 I will be leaving my fiancé in Iowa.

David and have known each other for many years, about three or so.  We went to school together and he’s even been to Canada to meet my family before (long before we were dating!). This week we spent much time together building with blocks and building our relationship.

On today (Friday January 13, 2012) we went on an “outing” around town.  We ended up at campus very close to where we had first met.  We were standing by the almost frozen pond talking about some of his writing.  (Joy had to discourage David from walking on the thin ice…perhaps this is a sign that David will attempt to walk on thin ice in the future?!?) David was explaining about a character in one of his pieces that had the ability to create little men out of any object, animate them and send them on his errands.  We thought that a little man of fire or smoke would be especially cool.  Then David started talking about a little metal man.

I saw his hand in his pocket and kept trying to walk away (nerves sometimes do that), but he wouldn’t let me.  He asked me if he could ask me a question.  I told him he could ask but I might not answer.  Next thing I know both he and a metal man are on their respective knees asking me to marry them.

Actually, only David did the asking.  Metal man is a mute…he’s actually headless, so speaking is more difficult.  David says actions are louder than words anyways.  Metal man was holding the ring which happens to be my great grandma’s engagement ring.  It was last worn about 103 years ago.

Naturally I said yes. So now, I no longer have a boyfriend, I have a fiancé.

At this point, no date has been set.

Joy (Joellen) and David

The Dash

In the past week I've spent a fair bit of time in cemeteries. More than I usually do for sure.  In one cemetery we were looking for a particular headstone, so we spent a lot of time looking at headstones trying to find the right one.  It was a very large cemetery and I may have gotten a little bit lost, and we didn't find the stone we were looking for that day (we went back the next day when the office was open and found it), but I read a lot of headstones. The headstones were all different shapes, sizes, and colors.  They had lots of different things written on them, but there was one thing that they all had.  They all had a dash.
The dash spanned from between when the deceased was born and when they had died.Sometimes their birth and death were listed just as years, other times with months and days in addition to the year.  Sometimes there was an epitaph, other times it was simply a name and date.  Sometimes there were pictures.  But on every headstone there was a dash.  That dash summed up more than anything else.  That dash summed up anywhere from mere hours to decades.

We all will end up with a dash.  It's just the way life is.  The mighty dash, the space between when we take our first breath and when we take our last.   The dashes all looked the same, but they all meant something different.  For my uncle, who we buried this week, his dash summed up a very full, very broad life.  2 military tours, involvement in the space project (he helped put man on the moon!), lots of work with Midwest Old Treshers (50000 volunteer hours after he retired!), Lots of volunteer work with boy scouts, many awards including awards from the president, close friendships with many politicians (including the governor of Iowa), and so much more.  To sum his life up in a dash seemed inadequate, but that's how we all end.  Our life summed up in dash.
It made me wonder and think.  What will my dash sum up? When people who know me look at my dash, what will they remember?   None of us know how long or short our dash is going to be.  We can hope for a long dash, but there are no guarantees.  Each and every day that we are alive is a chance to influence our dash.
How am I going to influence my dash today?  How are you going to influence your dash?

So I've been rather silent lately.  My apologies to all of you who keep coming here hoping to find something new to read and then not finding anything at all.  The biggest reason was that I pretty much slept from Thursday through Sunday.  I've gotten some sort of bug that just has me down and out.  Even if I wasn't sleeping, I was just laying there, existing.   Somehow, by the grace of G-d, I was up and able to preach on Sunday evening.  I'm quite sure that if it hadn't been for his good grace, that would not have happened.  It was a very very small group Sunday, the smallest I've every preached to.  Including the elder, the pianist, and myself there were 7 people.  I was sad at first, but then remembered the promise of our Lord "wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I am there with them" (Mark 18:20).  I was blessed knowing that the Lord was there with us, even though we were few in number.  And I was blessed when people told me afterwards that they were blessed by the Word.

Tomorrow morning I head to Iowa for my Uncle Paul's funeral.  In all technicality, he is my mom's uncle, but on that side of the family, everyone is Aunt or Uncle (gender dependent) whether they are mom's cousins or uncles or aunts or whatever.  I got to see him in Summer 2010 at a family reunion.  We took a picture of the 3 (!) generations of twins in the family.  I'm so glad that we got those precious photos.

From Top to Bottom, Left to Right:  Aunt Polly and Uncle Paul, Moria and Taryn (almost 19), Arianna and Kalvin (4)

Chicago

On our way back from Canada we went through Chicago, partly because we needed to take Sarah Elizabeth back and partly because JB wanted to see Chicago.  So we did some touristy stuff and I took some touristy pictures.  I'd love to go back sometime when I'm not pressed for time and be a real tourist.  Spend more time seeing the things I want to see like the museums and the aquarium.

The classic skyline view

The not so classic skyline view

My favorite was the Lego butterflies.  If I have time I'll make a whole post of what we saw at the Lego store.

Reuben and I made a Lego family portrait.  See if you can guess who is who.  Hint: the broom is a guitar and the walkie-talkie is a phone.  No fair looking on Facebook for the answers!

Rejoicing and Lifting up

As with many things in life there is often and upside and a downside.  Sometimes they are completely unrelated.
First for the upside and super-duper happy news:
As of August 6, 2011 it will have been 100 days since I had a seizure. This is cause for great celebration. As Psalm 30:2 say, the LORD is the one who brings healing. I invite you to come celebrate with me and others.

It will be a rather informal (I don't do formal well) come and go type event from about 5pm-10pm. I'll have yummy baked goods, maybe some cheese and crackers, and a veggie tray and maybe some fruit of some sort out for snacking (we'll see how adventuresome I feeling this week). I'll probably also have some juice, tea (lots of tea, I like tea) and water available. If you'd like to bring something to share, please feel free, but it is not required by any means (no alcoholic beverages please).
I hope at some point to have a fire and maybe some marshmallows and s'more type stuff stuff out as well.
Feel free to bring spouses, significant others, children, etc as you feel is appropriate. And bring a lawn chair. That would be very useful.
I know some of you that I'm inviting can't come because you are in different states/countries/etc, but I still wanted you to feel invited. And if you can come, that would be amazing!! If I forgot to invite you and you see this, feel free to invite yourself. My brain has been known to forget people before (never intentionally!).
So, come celebrate with me :)
If you don't know where my back yard is, message me and I'll fill you in. I don't want to post the address here where anyone can see it because I don't want creepers at the celebration because that would be creepy.


Now for the downside/prayer request that is completely unrelated:
My dad is sick.  He has some sort of flesh eating bacteria or something and it's making him really really sick.  This kind of infection can be deadly if it isn't treated soon enough.  Thankfully, Mommy and Papa found it in time and he's on IV antibiotics.   Please pray for him and for my family.  He doesn't like being sick (no one does) and it could be awhile before he is well enough to go back to work.   Please pray that the doctors have wisdom in treating him and that he has patience as he heals.  Please also pray for a quite healing.  We serve a G-d of healing as evidenced by the post above.  I have confidence in that. 

The Plan

The plan was perfect.  We’d thought of everything, or so we thought.  My sister needed picked up from the canoe course she’d just taught. We had reservations at a “safe” restaurant.  We had excuses for why we needed to ride along to pick her up.  The birthday cake was made and decorated.  Chores were done early.  We were ready to get in the car with our unsuspecting father and head out.  Then the phone rang.   Phone calls at 3pm on a Sunday afternoon when all of us are home from college are unusual (when we're at school, that's about the time we check in).  It wasn’t hard to figure out from his side of the conversation what had happened.

He had a call.

He had to go respond.

Our plan seemed to be ruined.  Mom tried to cover, but he got suspicious.  Thankfully for us, he was wise and didn’t relay his suspicions.  Once he was out on the call Mom called the restaurant and tried to change the reservations.  She was successful. Then we tried to contact my sister and inform her of the change.  If we had reached her before he came home we could have made up a story about how she called saying she had been delayed in her return, but the number she had left us was erroneous.  We spent an hour trying to find the right phone number.  My dad returned. We thought our bluff was up.  In reality it partially was but, my dad in his wisdom, played along.

Mom, Youngest Brother and I, got in the car with him to go get her.  Mom came along just because (she doesn't need an excuse to hang out with her husband).  I came along so I could show Sister pictures of her new alpaca baby.  Youngest Brother came along so that he and Middle Brother wouldn't kill each other (they were having one of "those" days).  Papa came because he was the driver.

As soon as we left and were out of sight of the house Biggest Brother, other Sister and Middle Brother got in the truck and headed to the restaurant.

We collected Sister and then proceeded to give my dad directions "home".  I "spotted" a restaurant and decided I was hungry and couldn't wait until we got home and there were no snacks in the car, so we just had to stop. When we convinced him to pull into the parking lot, he knew we were up to something for sure.  Mom and I spotted Biggest Brother's truck and tried to direct him to park near it, but he didn't see it and wouldn't listen.  It was only once we were in the restaurant being seated with the others that he figured it out.  And it wasn't until dessert that Sisters figured out that we had cake for them and I had their birthday gifts.

The Plan didn't go exactly the way that we had intended it to (my dad is just too smart sometimes!), but it was still a good evening, and it made me think.

Someone has a Plan for my life.  I also have a plan for my life, just like my dad had a plan for his evening (FYI: it did not involve an emergency call or going out for dinner). Our plan for the evening was almost ruined by unexpected events.  I'm thankful that the One who knows my plan is greater than anything that could possibly ruin it. Things might (and often do!) happen that I don't expect, but nothing is unexpected for Him.  Just like my dad made plans to go pick up Sister and then come straight home, which didn't happen since we had plans for him that he didn't know about (which, in my opinion, were better anyways), G-d has plans for me that are different than my plans for me and in His opinion (and in mine), they are better anyways.

Sometimes it scares me to think that my plans are just that, my plans, and someone far greater than me is controlling them, and not just for an evening, or a day, or a week, but forever.  But when I think about who is controlling them, it scares me less.  He's been controlling everything since before time began, which is just crazy to think about.  When I'm confused or overwhelmed, I just remember Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."

I don't have to worry about my plan, because as long as I'm following His Plan, I'll be okay.

My Father's Voice

Every morning that I'm on the farm, almost like clockwork, I hear the good morning voice.  It starts in the back on the upstairs hall "Good Morning Isaac" and then moves forward calling to the girls.  Then downstairs for Ben, Reuben, and Me.  The order changes only if we change beds or someone isn't home.  Every time it says "Good Morning" there is a replying, sleepier voice responding with "Good Morning Papa."  If we fail to respond, the voice calls to us again.  And again, and again, until we respond.
It's that voice, that deep, reassuring voice, that brings us all out of our world of dreams, or the land of half wakefulness that we are lying in. It's the voice of our father, calling to us to once again join the land of the awake.   To rise and do our chores, eat breakfast and continue with our day.
On occasion, his alarm doesn't go off or he is tempted to snuggle under the covers a little longer than normal, or he gets a service call before wake up time and isn't able to "good morning" us at the normal time.  Even though it's a little thing, even though we are all perfectly capable of getting ourselves up in the morning, it throws off our routine.
Often, I am half awake, or even all the way awake before he calls me for morning time. I lay there in my bed and wait for him to call to me.  My ears are tuned to his voice, to the words he is going to say and I am ready to reply.
One morning I lay in my bed, waiting, and waiting, and waiting (he'd snuggled longer than usual).  As I waited I thought about it.  I'm super attentive to my father's voice in the morning time, but what about my other Father?  How often do I sit in silence, in stillness and wait for Him to speak to me?  If I'm completely honest, not often enough.  It's easier to listen for a familiar voice with my normal ears.  It takes more patience to listen with the ears of my heart to another familiar voice. This makes me sad.  It should not be this way.
What about you? Do you find it easier to listen with normal ears than the ears of your heart? How do you train the ears of your heart?
I think it has a lot to do with routine and practice.  My normal ears are trained to hear my father's voice.  It comes every morning.  I expect it.  I spend time with my father, so I know his voice. I think, if I want to tune the ears of my heart towards my Father, I need to make it more of my routine to listen to Him instead of fitting Him into my schedule.  And, I need to expect Him to speak, to call to me.
All this thinking reminded me of a song.  Here's a video.  Unfortunately, I couldn't find one that was captioned.  Sorry.

Environmentally Friendly Lawn Mowers and other cuteness

The lawn needed mowed so we engaged our environmentally friendly lawnmowers.

Atarah is checking out the inside of the shop. Her buddy Duchess would not cooperate for the camera.

This is what happens when you are late for dinner. It was Mommy's idea.  For real.  (except maybe the booger)

Shearing Days

Once a year we shear the alpacas.  It's kinda sorta a really big deal.  Lots of work, lots of people, lots of food.  Usually my job is in the kitchen, but the first two times we shore this year (Tuesday night and Friday) we were super short handed so I was out on the shearing floor.  Due to an unfortunate event on Friday I spent most of Saturday on the shearing floor too.  But everyone still got to eat.  The food wasn't amazing this year, but no one starved.  Since I was on the shearing floor all three times, I got to take "pre-shear" or "full-fleece" pictures of all our animals.  (they were supposed to be done the week before, but due to non-stop rain, they hadn't been)
Here's some pictures from our shearing days:

Duchess doesn't quite understand the concept of holding still for her picture.  Actually, Duchess doesn't quite understand the concept of holding still for anything.

Caasi stands nice for her picture.  She's a bit older and knows the drill.  Caasi was the very first alpaca born on our farm.

Isaac snuck into the shearing line up.

If it's in the lineup, it goes on the table and gets shorn...that's just how it works.

Idaho is a little frisky.  She's another one that doesn't like to stand still.

Annie got herself stuck under the hay feeder while waiting her turn to be shorn.

This one gets cuddles and chin scratches

While they are on the table they get a pedicure and a smile job as well.

In the first three days of shearing (all on our farm) we did approximately 43 animals.