spring has sprung

April 28, 2023April 28, 2023 / Rachel Fenton / 4 Comments

It’s been an interesting week. A few days after Pascha ended, we got hit with another cold — worse than the others we’ve weathered this April. Two weeks later, we’re both still popping cold meds like candy to get through the day. The amount of cough drops and tissues we’ve been through is ludicrous. We’re hopeful we’ve finally hit the tail end of it.

Then last weekend, I had a nasty fall over a dip in our gravel driveway — while holding Michael. Thankfully, Michael walked away with a single scratch on his arm, and I took the brunt of it. My legs and palms, however, are a different story. They’re pretty gnarly-looking. I’ve gotten some concerned looks when I wear shorts or skirts in public.

So because of all these things, it’s been a different type of week. My body is healing from the fall and my mind is fuzzy from the headcold. I’ve still been moving forward with homestead tasks, slowly doing my spring cleaning and reorganizing while my knitting and spinning are on hold.

Our little cottage had its HVAC system installed, and just in time for some 90 degree weather. It’s been oppressively hot the last few days, and the new air conditioning system keeps our cottage a little oasis.

The warmer weather has turned my focus towards the tasks that prepare for the bounty of summer. Spring cleaning is in full force: so far I’ve organized and deep cleaned our garden shed, the fridge, the closet in the guest room, the master bathroom, the laundry room, and several cabinets in the kitchen.

The biggest task so far has been organization. Our storage is pretty limited, so I’ve had to get creative with the ways I organize the kitchen and laundry room to make room for the canned goods I hope to preserve this summer. It’s a goal of mine to have a robust, shelf stable pantry that I’ve put up myself.

My garden is set up to help me achieve this goal: I’ve got a handful of tomatoes, zucchini/summer squash, strawberries, and pepper plants happily soaking up water and sun. I’m hoping to add cucumbers and beans shortly. I know I’ll also be able to take advantage of the bounty of my parents’ fruit trees to make jams and sauces.

I have big plans for the garden eventually — but the most pressing thing right now is controlling the native ground cover plants that threaten to choke out my garden beds. You can see them in the photo above. While the wild look is endearing in its own way, I desperately need to borrow my dad’s weedwhacker.

I grew up processing tomatoes and apples with my mom in the kitchen with a water-bath canning method. I pressure-canned for the first time, and I’m absolutely obsessed. I make chicken stock from the carcasses of any rotisserie chicken we get for dinner, and I was tired of it going bad in our fridge before I could use it. So I faced my fear of the pressure canner, watched some YouTube videos to figure out how it works, and now I have two beautiful quarts of shelf-stable stock. It will be perfect when soup season rolls around again.

Also, inspired by my cousin and one of my favorite YouTubers, I’ve started to brew my own kombucha. I drink enough of it that it makes sense to start making it instead of buying it, plus it seems like a good place to start exploring fermenting. So far my scoby seems happy enough, but only time will tell.

Knitting and spinning, as I said, have been mostly on hold. However, the warmer weather and Michael taking longer naps (2 hours!!) gave me some inspiration to sew a few quick garments. I updated an old maxi dress I never wore to a midi skirt I love, made an airy blouse, and finally finished a skirt I’d had on hold for a while (no photo of that one yet).

Even though the past two weeks haven’t been what I’d planned or expected, I’m still grateful for the different ways spring has entered into our lives, brushing out the last of winter’s cobwebs. I hope however your spring is going, you get the chance to spend some time in the sunshine, or feel some dirt beneath your hands, or make something beautiful.

my perfect dishcloth

April 21, 2023April 21, 2023 / Rachel Fenton / 3 Comments

How do you know you’ve truly reached adulthood? You get really excited about new kitchen dishcloths.

More accurately, I’m really excited about THESE dishcloths: I finally came up with the perfect combination for my kitchen needs.

Most people are already familiar with the “grandmother’s dishcloth”: knit on the bias with a little lace around the edges. I’d knit several of the basic dishcloth using this pattern I found on Ravelry (linked here for those interested), but it wasn’t my favorite. For one thing, it had a tendency to warp and not be square after a few washes, which drives me nuts. Also, the single strand of cotton yarn made it rather thin for tougher kitchen scrubbing.

Inspired by two of my sisters-in-law, who were both making their respective kitchen cloths when we visited in Ohio, I began thinking of ways to make a dishcloth that was perfect for my kitchen.

I’d made scrubbies with three strands of yarn in the past, but those were too hard on my hands as I knit. One strand was too thin. Two strands of worsted weight cotton was then my Goldilocks choice. I wanted it to be flexible enough to fold easily, but thick enough to work as a potholder in a pinch.

I needed something textured as well: garter and stockinette stitch were too smooth and didn’t scrub as well as I wanted. I also admit I’m a knitting nerd: I have a favorite stitch pattern. I love the way seed stitch looks and feels, and it was perfect for this dishcloth.

Putting all these things together, I came up with my favorite dishcloth pattern. I’ve made it in three sizes, and I’m absolutely obsessed. I’ve already made five, and I don’t see myself stopping any time soon.

I’m not a pattern designer, nor do I ever see myself pursuing designing: but if it helps to see my process written out, I’ve shared it here! It’s not fancy by any means, but I’m thrilled with how well it fits all my needs.

little hobbit update

April 19, 2023April 19, 2023 / Rachel Fenton / 2 Comments

Michael is 15 months old now, and he’s an active, adorable, mischievous, precious toddler.

The chickens were wondering where he got that egg

His language and communication has exploded — he has too many new words to record here. However, he has definitely learned “no”, and uses it exactly as often as you’d imagine a toddler would. He mimics words back to us often, and interacts with “Miss Rachel” whenever we have screen time: clapping and singing and dancing along. His current favorite sound is “VROOM” — he will enthusiastically make it whenever he sees anything with wheels.

His favorite person is still grandpa: whenever we’re at church and he sees my dad in the choir, he shouts GRANDPA over and over and immediately runs over to him. He does the same with DADA. It’s adorable, but makes participating in church services a little difficult — if grandpa or dada are busy (as they often are), his protests usually increase in volume until I drag him out to the narthex.

Even with all the difficulties that come with having a toddler in church, I love watching Michael at church. He has a reverence for holy things that surprises me, given his age. Even if he’s upset or exhausted or fussing, whenever he’s in line for communion and reaches the cup, he immediately settles and is quiet as he receives the Eucharist. Even though he runs around the sanctuary, he stops before he reaches the solea (the platform in front of the iconostasis).

We’ve started weaning: day weaning is basically complete except for a short nursing session before naptime. We were going to wait to start weaning until after Pascha, but Michael went that way naturally with the help of nicely timed distractions from Jake and my parents. Night weaning is a different story…hopefully we’ll have progress to report next month.

Sleep is still abysmal. He’s always moving, always talking, always doing something — getting him to stop and be still enough to sleep is an exhausting wrestling match that we often repeat several times a night. Once in a while he sleeps for a three hour stretch, and we were elated and shocked when he slept from 9 pm to 3 am a few weeks ago. However, that hasn’t happened again. We’re hopeful might weaning will give us a little more sleep.

Being outdoors is Michael’s absolute favorite pastime. Now that the weather has warmed, we’re out in the garden and on our porch every day, soaking in the sunshine and spring. He loves his own set of garden tools (gifts from a dear family friend) and I have to keep a careful watch to make sure he doesn’t behead my plants with his zeal.

If there’s a puddle or standing water or any kind, he will find it. He loves putting rocks in puddles, or trying to climb into the dogs’ water bucket. We’re hoping to get him swimming lessons this summer to continue to foster his love of water.

He’s absolutely fearless — he plays with my parents’ dogs even though Max is twice his size. He loves sitting on my dad’s lap and throwing the ball for them. If left to his own devices, he would explore forever and never come back. I’ve often looked up from my gardening to see him halfway down our driveway to my parents’ house. I’m grateful we’re further back from the street.

Max making sure he doesn’t wander too far

Thankfully, he seems to have outgrown his hatred of riding in the car, and will happily play in his car seat without complaint for most drives. Longer drives are still a gamble, but overall our daily errand running is much more enjoyable for both of us.

A Pascha gift from my parents: he’s obsessed

He remains an adventurous eater: he recently had a bite of my spicy sushi and returned for more. His favorite foods are currently raspberries, mozzarella, grapes, pinto beans, bread of any kind, and blueberries.

I recently knit him a pair of socks from a limited edition self-striping yarn I purchased from a small business: they’re absolutely adorable and a tad bit big for him. However, I didn’t think about the fact they don’t have grips on the bottom…he took one step on our hardwood floor and promptly wiped out with a screech and a glare of betrayal. Good thing I made them large — we’ll have to wait until he’s a little steadier on his feet.

Watching him grow over the past month has been delightful — I look forward to seeing what sixteen months brings us.

alleluia

April 16, 2023April 16, 2023 / Rachel Fenton / 3 Comments

Alleluia, Christ is risen!

I feel like I’ve talked about Holy Week and Pascha without going into much detail, so I want to share the beauty of our traditions with you. We’ve just finished Lent and Holy Week and now we are celebrating Pascha! Pascha is the most important day of the liturgical year: it is the pinnacle of our faith.

Pascha is another word for Easter: it’s a transliteration of the Hebrew word for Passover: pesach. Orthodox Christians celebrate it on the Julian calendar instead of the Gregorian Calendar like Catholics and Protestants, which is why we’re celebrating this week instead of last week. (If you’re interested in the lingual history and more general information on calendars and traditions, here’s a good resource).

The entire liturgical year leads up to Holy Week and Pascha. Lent ends with Lazarus Saturday, and Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday, celebrating Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We remember that triumphal entry in our own church service, with children waving palm branches as hymns are sung.

Michael having fun with his palms on Palm Sunday

There is a church service every day of Holy Week. The Holy Week services are so poignant and striking — every year I attend, I find myself pierced to the heart. Some day, I would love to write reflections for each day of Holy Week. However, this is not that day. For brevity’s sake, we’ll talk about Good Friday and Holy Saturday, leading to Pascha.

On Good Friday, (also known as Great and Holy Friday) we remember Christ’s crucifixion and sing lamentations, decorating the tomb with flowers.

At Liturgy on Saturday morning, the priest throws bay leaves and rose petals around the church, signifying the earthquake that occurred when Christ descended into Hell. It’s a beautiful anticipation of Sunday — the lament of Friday has passed, and our grief turns to joy as Christ breaks the gates of Hell and raises up Adam and Eve and all the faithful.

Icon of the harrowing of Hell by Uncut Mountain Supply

We come back to church that evening, around 10 pm. The lights are dim, and the choir sings the Odes of Holy Saturday, one of my favorite pieces of music in the Eastern Orthodox tradition.

Today a tomb holds Him who holds the creation in the hollow of His hand; a stone covers Him who covered the heavens with glory. Life sleeps and hell trembles, and Adam is set free from his bonds. Glory to Thy dispensation, whereby Thou hast accomplished all things, granting us an eternal Sabbath, Thy most holy Resurrection from the dead.
Hymns of the Ainoi

In the Western Orthodox tradition, my favorite piece of church music is sung at the Vigil, called the Exsultet. I’ve linked a full version here but here’s a snippet of my favorite lines:

The power of this holy night
dispels all evil, washes guilt away,
restores lost innocence, brings mourners joy;
it casts out hatred, brings us peace, and humbles earthly
pride.

Night truly blessed when heaven is wedded to earth
and man is reconciled with God!
Therefore, heavenly Father, in the joy of this night,
receive our evening sacrifice of praise,
your Church’s solemn offering.
Exsultet

Then the lights are fully turned off, and the congregation prays in darkness until the priest brings forth a single lit candle from the altar, singing: “Come, receive the light from the light that is never overtaken by night.”

We all light our candles from this single flame, and process singing outdoors and around the church, finally stopping at the doors. Scripture is read, prayers are said, and then finally the priest approaches the doors.

The priest bangs on the doors of the church, reciting the words of Psalm 24: Open your gates you princes, and be lifted you eternal gates, and the King of Glory shall enter.

From inside the church, behind the closed doors, a voice replies: Who is this King of Glory?

The priest responds: The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.

This is repeated three times, and the third time, the priest replies “The Lord of might. He is the King of Glory!”. The doors spring open, the lights blaze to life, and the choir sings Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death and to those in the tomb bestowing life! as the congregation processes back into the brilliantly lit church. We then have morning prayer (Orthros) and Liturgy to celebrate Pascha!

The Paschal Homily of St John Chrysostom is read: I’ve linked the full text here for anyone who’s interested. It’s one of the most profound homilies I’ve ever heard. If you haven’t read it, I strongly encourage you to. For me this year, much of the Liturgy was spent rocking a sleeping baby (given it was 1 am at the time) but I could listen to it being read in the narthex.

People bring Pascha baskets to the Vigil, all stuffed to the brim with things we’ve been abstaining from during the Lenten fast: cheeses and meats and eggs and alcohol, among other treats. The priest blesses them at the end of the service.

And then, after the service, we feast! The jubilation and joy is so infectious: everyone brings a Pascha treat to share, whether it’s bacon or quiche or donuts or cheesecake or sausage, and we all feast together at two o’clock in the morning. Sometimes Pascha feasts can go past four or five in the morning! Jake and Michael and I made it home and in bed by three am this year, though.

Pascha traditions vary depending on the church, but our family makes Pascha cheese (think a spreadable, delectable cheesecake like substance eaten with fruit or on bread) and dyes red eggs. Traditionally, the eggs are dyed naturally with yellow onion skins. This year I started dying them a little late, so I added some natural food dye to my pot of onion skins to help things along. (Also, as a tip: brown eggs make a deeper, more of radiant red, and if you polish them with a little olive oil once they’re cool, they shine brilliantly!)

There are many different origin stories for the tradition of red eggs at Pascha, some of which can be found here. My favorite is the one that attributes it to Mary Magdalene:

According to tradition, after the Ascension of Jesus, Mary went to the Emperor of Rome and greeted him with “Christ has risen,” whereupon he pointed to an egg on his table and stated, “Christ has no more risen than that egg is red.” After making this statement it is said the egg immediately turned blood red.

Many icons of St Mary Magdalene have her holding a red egg as a symbol of the resurrection for this reason.

And now we head to Agape Vespers: a short church service before our parish BBQ!

It’s an exhausting, beautiful, whirlwind, poignant, joyous week, and now we celebrate! As St John Chrysostom says in his Paschal homily:

O Death, where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory? Christ is risen, and you are overthrown. Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen. Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen, and life reigns. Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in the grave. For Christ, being risen from the dead, is become the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. To Him be glory and dominion unto ages of ages. Amen.

Blessed Pascha, dear friends! Christ is risen! Alleluia!

holy week

April 12, 2023April 12, 2023 / Rachel Fenton / 2 Comments

Although Catholics and Protestants are already in the Easter season, we Orthodox are in the middle of Holy Week. Lent is ended, and it’s the final push to Pascha.

There are a few small ways I’m bringing my attention to Holy Week for the next few days. Inspired by Kh. Destinie from The Ascetic Life of Motherhood, I’m playing music quietly in the background while I do my daily chores. My current choice is also from Kh. Destinie: Apostolos Hill English Orthodox Chant.

I’m also taking a few moments to read main passages from the services I’ll be attending this week. I know my attention will be divided between worship and making sure Michael doesn’t accidentally throw a toy at the priest: it’s helpful if I’ve looked at the service beforehand so I can recognize the snippets I hear while distracted.

Today is suspended on a tree He who suspended the earth upon the waters.
The King of the angels is decked with a crown of thorns.
He who wraps the heavens in clouds is wrapped in the purple of mockery.
He who freed Adam in the Jordan is slapped on the face.
The Bridegroom of the Church is affixed to the Cross with nails.
The Son of the Virgin is pierced by a spear.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
We worship Thy passion, O Christ.
Show us also Thy glorious resurrection.
Antiphon Holy Thursday Evening

I love the church’s Holy Week hymns. It was hard to choose just one to feature as a quote for this post. They’re profoundly moving, and I find them running through my mind as I go about my day.

Even with the daily church services and the preparation for the Paschal celebration, the homestead still requires attention. Plants need to be watered, lawns mowed, garden beds assembled and filled, meals made, eggs gathered — the list goes on.

Happy in their new coop, our chickens continue to lay beautiful eggs. I love the variety of colors we get, and look forward to dying the brown ones with onion skins to make red eggs for Pascha. My dad also hung the signs that my mom ordered for the coop — I think they’re absolutely adorable.

I’ve been taking advantage of the warmer weather and doing what garden and yard work I can with Michael following me. I have 1.5 more beds to assemble, and a handful of seedlings waiting to be planted. I’m wonderfully sore from all the shoveling as I moved dirt into these beds — the physical labor is so satisfying.

Two beds are filled and planted, the garden shed is organized, the bird feeders are installed and filled, and my dad mowed down the weeds for us. It’s so exciting to see it look more like a yard and less like a construction zone.

My evenings after our church services are still filled with knitting or mending or sewing or spinning. I’ve even knit up a little of my hand-spun yarn, and I love it in all of its beautiful imperfection.

Once upon a time, I would’ve wondered if my daily work was a distraction from the holiness of this week. Somehow though, the presence of these daily chores doesn’t lessen the solemnity and profundity of Holy Week. If anything, they make it even holier.

I go from chasing a toddler through my house to chasing him in the narthex of the church. I go from gardening to doing prostrations during the Lenten Prayer of Saint Ephram, dirt still under my fingernails.

O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despair, lust of power, and idle talk.

But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.

Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own transgressions, and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou, unto ages of ages. Amen.
Lenten Prayer of Saint Ephram

This is what I love about liturgical living: the eternal meets the mundane and transforms it. Even the simplest tasks can be pierced through with holiness, if we let them.

spring fever

April 5, 2023April 5, 2023 / Rachel Fenton / 4 Comments

I recovered from strep throat to immediately fall victim to a nasty cold, and Jake and Michael and my dad joined in on the fun. My mom is the sole survivor of this illness so far. We’ve been lying low at home, trying to regain health. It’s given us the chance to work on some spring projects we’ve wanted to do for a while, though progress is slow.

For the first weekend in a while, we’ve had clear skies and bright sun, though there’s still a chill to the air. The spring fever has hit all of us, and there’s much to be done to prepare the garden for all we want to do.

Jake began building the fence for our front garden, citing that the fresh air and exercise would help him kick his cold. Given we’re still hacking our lungs out, I don’t think it worked. We all seemed to regress in illness after our weekend in the fresh air, but it’s still nice to see the progress. I’m looking forward to having a contained outdoor space for Michael to explore. He has a tendency to go as far and as fast as he can if left to his own devices outdoors. I’m glad he has such an adventurous spirit, but I’ll feel better when I can garden for a few minutes without being worried about him.

I built two of my four raised beds, and filled and planted in one of them. I have drooping seedlings waiting to be planted in the others, and plans for many other vegetables and herbs. Given this is my first solo attempt at a robust kitchen garden, I’m trying not to aim too high — but I’m excited to plant and cultivate as much as I reasonably can.

My dad finished building the larger chicken coop and we shifted our current hens over to their new home. Too bad we didn’t have anyone getting video footage of that process: my mom and I chasing and catching very unwilling hens was quite a sight.

Michael loves the hens and isn’t afraid of them in the slightest even though they’re half his size. He calls them “bawk bawks” and loves opening and shutting the coop door. They are not his biggest fans.

The hens have settled into their new place quite nicely. We also have a handful of new baby chicks to be introduced to the flock when they mature. They’ll bring our chicken count up to sixteen.

As the days grow lighter, the hens have started laying eggs more frequently. There’s nothing better than fresh eggs: the yolks are so golden and vibrant. My favorite treat right now is a yolky latte: I put a fresh yolk, cream, and honey in a mason jar, shake it up until it’s foamy, and pour it into my morning coffee. I also enjoy doing the same with matcha instead of coffee. It’s a great energy boost that doesn’t leave me feeling jittery.

We installed a baby gate on our side porch, cleaned it off, and organized the various items stored on it, thereby extending Michael’s playing space. He loves having an outdoor space to kick his ball or throw things over the gate with a cheerful “uh oh!”.

The porch was important to us when we chose the design for our home. We wanted a place sheltered from the heat of the day, where we could sit and listen to the birds and watch the owls swoop over the trees at sundown.

While the majority of the porch space is focused on being a play space for Michael, I’d had a vision in mind for the corner ever since I saw it. I wanted a peaceful space to knit and drink coffee in the early mornings, or sit with a cocktail and talk with my husband or friends on summer evenings. It’s nice to see that vision becoming a reality.

My mother bought Michael a water table for the porch as well, and he adores it. We haven’t actually put water in it yet, given the temperature has been in the low 60s, but it’ll be perfect for when the warmer weather rolls in. I’m grateful he has a nice outdoor space to safely play in right now — while we’re all sick, we’ve had more screen time than I prefer and this is a much better alternative. Parenting while sick is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m very ready for all of us to be healthy again.

So please pray for us, dear friends. Lent has taken its toll on us, and the exhaustion is heavy. Holy Week services are coming up for us Orthodox Christians, which will require both energy and health (something we are all currently lacking). I usually look forward to these services, but I find myself wondering how we’ll make it through this year. Pray for a swift recovery so we can throw ourselves back into the choir and service preparations!

To all my Catholic and Protestant friends: may you have a blessed Holy Week and Easter! To my Orthodox friends, press on! Palm Sunday is near, and so is Pascha.

five acres four generations

Five Acres. Four Generations. Three Homes. Too many Chickens. One love.

Month: April 2023