Frodo Baggins

Our dear little friend  Kai is turning seven, and we decided to make him a hobbit.

I've been hoarding these gorgeous early 19th century buttons "Made in Czecho-Slovakia" for a special project. They would do any hobbit proud.  

Meet Mr. Baggins. Opinion is divided: is he Bilbo or Frodo? I say Bilbo, but Hugh made him a little magic ring out of gold wire, hung around his neck on a string, and declares him to be Frodo.

Body is slightly lumpy and disproportionate (haste, my natural state) so I made him a suit of clothes, tiny and rustic like a hobbit.

French Knots for hair

Hugh made Sting, the hobbit sword, and the Ring of power.

The cloak is made from my grandpa's WWII  military blankets. A GI-Joe messenger bag completes the outfit

Farewell, Bilbo, the road goes ever on and on!

Post-script
I stuffed the extra leather string into Bilbo's bag. When our sweet little friend Kai opened the bag, he said, "Oh look! Elven rope!" 

Kai, you are precious. Bilbo is bound for wonderful adventures with you.

Beginnings

Lots of firsts, this week. —First batch of sauerkraut into the crock!

Our Sauerkraut:

2 Tblspoons salt/5 lbs shredded cabbage. 

Thump it with a heavy object in a pail

Dump it into crock

top crock up with water.

Our cabbage thumper is a block of wood roughly chopped into a mallet. We use a traditional cabbage shredder and chop the unshreddable bits by hand. The crock is a Harsch crock (which was accidentally dropped by the postman and has a large crack in it, yet works!)  

Helter Skelter

baby goats are sharing digs with the hens for now

Our first babies born to the farm! Mathilda gave birth to twins bucks, Helter and Skelter, early yesterday morning. Will found them when he went out to do his chores frisking about like precious, perfect little adult goats. I can hardly believe it. I'm a grandmother!

We are all smitten with Helter and Skelter. Birth is nothing less than amazing, and these little dudes are utterly adorable.

Matthilda is doing fine and is a wonderful mother. (I have a bruise on my forehead to prove it) We bring her "special" apple cores and carrot peels, because as Willy says, "That's how you say congratulations to a goat."

O Star of Wonder

Someday, I would love to end the Twelve days of Christmas with an awesome Epiphany party, a last hurrah before we settle into ordinary time. This year, we lit our "star" lantern to guide the wise men, we moved our little camels and wise men around the kitchen (a little each day, divided fairly between four children, because my goodness, it matters!) and did some Epiphany art collages inspired by this spectacular book by Niko Chocheli.

Although we never ended up having our longed-for Epiphany party due to a week (or was it two?) of Thomas Hardy-style Fate—stomach flu and frozen pipes on PRECISELY the same day! What a sense of humour! —we eventually enjoyed a visit from some beloved friends and were treated to a theatrical bill by these ridiculous sillies: 

In addition, we have two new mousers: Moppet and Mittens (or Provence and Aquitaine pronounced very French. It depends whom you ask.) They will live in the barn where they will be warm and well-fed on the mice that plunder our grain bins. And very far away from me, cat-hating farm wife.

 We have made a "beautiful wall" in the corner of our living room and begun a morning and night ritual of lighting a candle and singing (part) of the Byzantine Daily Worship, something we've wanted to do for almost ten years now. So excited for this new unfolding!

Home school trudges along. We love it and hate it. (Can't decide.) Will is teaching a couple courses this semester and packing in the studies. 

Good times in January!

On Christmas Day in the Morning

Merry Christmas and God Jul to all our dear ones, near and far!

Shelter

None of the children or animals seem to mind the snow, but snugness is important for animals, according to Will. Now is the time to show you the beautiful shelter he's making for them:

The pictures are from November. Cold, sunny November. At this point, the goat shed was still looking scrappy, built, as it is, from scrap wood and ancient rusty roofing from the barn. I can hear him saying, "I told you that roofing would come in handy!" (Our one incompatibility is over what to hoard and not to hoard. He's the hoarder, I'm the non-hoarder; he's usually right to hang onto things in the end, but, at the same time, my cup of contentment is perfectly full without crap everywhere) Anyway, you can see the makings of a sod roof which we'll plant with grass and wildflowers in the spring. It will be lovely! I anticipate the goats standing ON the roof, not under. Because goats can fly, you see. 

St. Nicholas!

A Happy Feast of St. Nicholas, from the elves in Canada to you!

Around here, St. Nicholas' Day gets a little more festive every year. We are very fond of this good kind bishop and we take the excuse to eat chocolate coins and read our new St. Nicholas day books, all day long, without getting out of our pajamas.

I made the boys some new St. Nicholas day hats. They are very good sports to wear them, for five seconds, for the pictures. I understand, I really do, that they are big boys now and mama's silly hats are not quite cool enough for big boys. 

I mean....ears? Seriously, mom.

I'm also smart enough not to say "oooooo, how cute! It's killing me!" whilst taking pictures... There's almost nothing worse to a boy's dignity than being called cute. Still, look at them!

Here are the tomten hats:

Hugh is taking his chocolate up to his room, in this picture, to consume it privately, quickly, and silently. He's no fool, Hugh.

St. Nicholas Day tomtens. OOOOOOOooooo, how cute!