In Which I Wonder Where to Start

It has been over a month since my last post. Sometimes I feel so lost without being able to blog--sad isn't it. Every now and again I get a craving for a Facebook hit and I still daydream about how nice it must be to text. But mostly I've grown accustomed to the media-free lifestyle that we've established and am enjoying how freeing it is. I quite prefer it over our old ways. Do you know how much time not having/doing all those things frees up?

I've been sewing, tatting, crocheting, reading and learning how to reverse applique.

I sit longer and linger and laugh with the children over good books.

I'm learning how to care for animals, how to butcher them, how to breed them.

I'm already more in touch with the cycle of the seasons and I know what it is like to be cold in an old farmhouse.

I stand still under a sky so clear and a moon so bright that it looks to be daytime and I listen to the coyotes howl and bark and pack together in the woods to hunt

I watch the sun rise out my kitchen window (you know I can see all the way to the horizon and it's glorious).

I wake up at 3:30 and listen to my roosters crow and I drift back to sleep praying over my husband, my children, my home, my church, my family, my friends, my community.

I marvel over our first egg.

I watch the farmers harvest their fields and learn from them about their machines and their planting cycles.

I watch the cat practice hunting with a bit of leaf and my great dane run off with a choice piece of deer and bury it.

I watch the bunnies twitch their noses at me.

I've learned how to sneak down the hallway and the staircase in the early morning, avoiding all the loudest creeks, so I can sit alone in the quiet and study the Word.

I clean the bathtub every other day from the rust stains of well water (I call it "God's water").

I wonder what wonderful old wood might be under our dining room carpet.

And I've learned to be far happier with far less--which really turns out to be more.