Gabriel David Lester

Born with love and joy at home at 5:30 am Christmas morning.  Baby and Mama are both healthy and well.  Thank you in advance for your good wishes – we are resting and trying to soak up this precious time, and so grateful for this amazing blessing.

It’s been a week filled with beauty, love, and plenty of challenges.  Like most weeks, basically.  Ella’s had a wicked chest cold for about two weeks, which wakes her in the night coughing (which wakes me int he night to comfort her).  I did manage to sneak in a bit of crafting while a babysitter was here (finishing a striped raglan for Ella and a Stella pixie hat – thank goodness I started them both long ago).  And I do think she’s almost better – at last.  I seem to have a re-occuring pattern that sickness lingers (in myself or my daughter) until I stop to ask myself what lesson this illness might have to offer.  Not just a complaining “Why me?” questioning, but a true wondering what the gift could be.

Today, I did not want to show up for work (meaning, life).  But I happened to reread Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa’s section in this article (it’s posted in my sewing room), and I thought, Of course.  I closed my eyes and asked to be shown how I could be of service.  I opened my eyes and there was a sick four year old, with all of her quirks and needs.  There was a husband with arms sore from erecting a huge hoophouse, who really needed a quick massage.  There were many chances to make extra cups of tea when I went to make on for myself, and endless chances to truly listen to someone talking to me, to offer a kind word, to ignore any unkindness.  I found myself singing This little light of mine, and tonight we lit two candles on our menorah.  I was so glad that I had truly been here today.

Wishing you wonderful holidays, and that the light we are all searching for finds you, wherever you are.  Blessings on you and yours.

Lest you think that I’m all grumps and thunder these days . . . I’m either laughing here at the enormity of my own belly, or at something Ella was saying.  Maybe both.  As baby gets closer, I can’t help but remember the baby who might have been born in October.  Every time I dream about this new baby, it is chubby and smiling.  What a gift.

* * *

First Moon

Outside

we plant two peach trees

where once there were four – grateful

that sometimes

what was lost

can be restored.

Inside

a whirling of stars,

blood, all the possibilities

of flesh, bone.

Open the door -

someone

is waiting.

(c) Adrie Lester 2011

Some days, I find myself snapping, crackling at the edges as if I might break or burst into flame.  Often I catch myself sooner, but sometimes I have to get to that point before I realize that I am really, really thirsty.  Thirsty for good words.  I realize, suddenly, that I am trapped in my own negative thoughts, or in the negative thoughts of others, and that I need to fill myself with light – fast.  That’s when I turn to the works of Pema Chodron, Meditations on the Mat, Buddhism for Mothers, or the poems of Mary Oliver.  It is amazing how quickly this works – as quickly as the fire comes, it is out.  Ideally, I keep myself drenched, but it’s a good reminder that even when we feel like scorched earth, we can be returned.

The Prayer of St. Francis

Lord make me an instrument of your peace

Where there is hatred,
Let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, Joy.

O Divine Master grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled
As to console;
To be understood,as to understand;
To be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

It’s getting close to baby time now, and the days are both moving slowly and also very quickly.  After a few crazy days of doing too much, my midwife ordered me to do nothing, so I spent most of last week doing as little as I could.  I’m glad to say I’m feeling well again, and taking time, as always, to count all our blessings. On the farm, there’s a hoophouse going up, grains about to be distributed to our shareholders, insulation being slowly but surely added to every nook and cranny, and I did finally finish painting that hallway.  I swear, though, the hoophouse, insulation, and the grains are all Ben, and I’m mostly spending my days growing this big belly.  Really.

Joining Yarn Along: I finished all of the baby knits I most wanted to make, and even had time to do this sweet owlie sleeping sack.  I also have a hat secretly in progress for Ella’s Christmas present.   I’m really enjoying reading The 10 Principles for Spiritual Parenting, recommended to me by Tonya.   I’m also loving the book Natural Health After Birth by Aviva Jill Romm.  The fairies brought Ella Phoebe’s Sweater, and also Hello Baby (great for homebirthers!).

It’s definitely feeling like time to turn inward for winter, and I can’t think what I’d like to do more than snuggle with a brand new babe (and my huge babe!) in front of the woodstove.  Ella discovered in my sewing room a waldorf doll-in-progress (originally intended for last Christmas) and got really excited about making it together.  I realized that would be a great project to work on together in those first days when I’ll be trying to stay in bed as much as possible, since it’s all hand sewing.  And then, of course, there will be doll clothes to make, which will stretch it even longer.  Excellent.  Time to put some soup in the freezer, rearrange the living room to make room for the tub, and make a few simple, simple gifts for the holidays.

(Ella eating chestnuts with her Nana on Thanksgiving.)

I hope these days find you well, friends.

Thank you all for your kind words about our trip!  Back at home, it has been an adjustment to come home from the White House, back to our own daily lives. To participate in such a public, huge action, and then to return to our own, mostly private, mostly small gestures.  I won’t lie when I say that I spent a lot of time that first week back remembering all the speakers from Lafayette Park, and crying about the stories they told.  Stories about fresh oil still spilling in the Gulf, about having tires slashed and brake lines cut for the audacity to take videos of Transcanada’s pipeline spills, and also stories of hope and heart, of people coming together all over to protect what is sacred and belongs to all of us.

I’ve been listening to Pema Chodron’s lecture series Don’t Bite the Hook, which was amazing to have while processing such a strong experience.  We found out just a few days after we came back that Obama sent the Pipeline back to the State Dept. for a full independent review.  A victory, of sorts.  As a friend said, You got all of us another year of life!  But after one year, we will have to revisit this whole thing again, which makes me sad.  Saying, “Not right now” is not the same as saying, “No.”

I think what Ben and I both felt so strongly as we traveled to D.C., and after we came back, is that we are living in a time that is ripe for change.  In order to help shape that change, each of us has to be open to moving past our own personal actions (and our comfort zones), and willing to enter collective actions.  What is humbling and amazing to behold is how few of us it actually takes to make a difference, to start a rippling change.  1,200 people getting arrested at the White House can transform in just two months into 12,000 people surrounding the White House.  A few hundred people on Wall St can turn into thousands all around the globe, and into 700,000 Americans closing their accounts with big banks.  700,000 people is less than 1 % of the current US population (307 million) – but it’s big enough that the banks are starting to freak out.

I used to worry a lot about how to change people’s minds and spread information.  These days, I’m thinking more about the people who already agree that climate change is happening, that carbon emissions need to be stopped, that clean water must be protected, etc . . . I’m wondering how to bring all of us together and move together, beyond our own lives and into something bigger.  Pema Chodron once said that “the future is shaped by people who are not afraid of being uncomfortable. ” I see people all around me transforming their lives, even when it is uncomfortable or unpopular or downright hard, and it gives me tremendous heart and hope.  I was amazed most of all by the feeling of peace and joy when we gathered in DC for the protest.  It would have been easy to gather together in anger and outrage – but we joined hands in gratitude for each other and all that we could do.  I look forward to joining hands again, to singing, to sharing stories, to shaping the future.

Dear Ella and Baby,

On November 5, 2011 the four of us (Baby still in the belly) traveled 7 hours by train to Washington D.C.  We didn’t go to tour the museums or to see historic sites.  We went to make history, by joining over 12,000 of our friends to say no to the Keystone XL Pipeline.  Ella, you rode in the Ergo on your daddy’s back and giggled each time the crowd cheered.  Baby, you were snug in Mama’s belly as we listened to amazing, courageous people speak from all over the country, and then together we walked peacefully to the White House.  Bill McKibben said, “When we first had this idea, we hoped that maybe if everyone held hands and stretched out really far, we could encircle the White House.”

Instead, we stood three deep all the way around, singing and chanting.  We stood in joy and also in deep sorrow.  We gathered in Lafayette Park again, and as Obama’s motorcade drove by, we all shouted together, Yes we can – Stop the Pipeline.

The next day, we traveled the 7 hours home, back to our own small farm and bakery, to our own every day.  Remembering, hoping, and determined, as Van Jones said, to continue to stand in solidarity, and prepared to join hands again,  in “nonviolent civil disobedience and mass arrests along every mile, foot, and inch of the construction route — until it is impossible to complete. August was the beginning of the “people’s veto” of this whole proposal; we will never give up until the very idea of Keystone XL is dead and buried.”

For all of us, that we may have clean water to drink, food to eat, an Earth to live on.

For you.  We won’t give up.

Love,

Mama & Daddy

Little did we know last week that this week we would be under twenty inches of snow.  But luckily, we went out last week and gathered pokeberries for some dyeing.  Guided by the book Harvesting Color, Ella and I spent most of a day gathering, simmering, and simmering some more.  We dyed one playsilk, and some washed wool from our sheep.  Some day soon I should have a bunch of our own wool yarn coming back from a local spinning mill, and it will be coming back white . . . Let’s just say that white clothing and farming don’t mix well in my opinion, so it was time to learn how to dye.  This went really, really, well, and I’m amazed by how deep the color on the wool turned out!  Also, it was a great one to do with Ella, but I will say that pokeberries are poisonous, and I wouldn’t do this project with any child still young enough to be tempted to put things in their mouth.

Ben came along, as you can tell, and took a lot of photos.  He got a new lens for our camera last week, and I will admit I was skeptical (being generally skeptical of any gadgetry purchase), but what can I say?  He’s a genius, and it’s one of the best $100 we’ve ever spent.  All of a sudden, we can take photos inside.  Even in our poorly lit kitchen, where I have struggled for so long to get halfway decent shots.  Craziness.

In my humble opinion, of course.  Truthfully, I am a pie lover, and I have eaten and baked many a pie.  I think I found, at last, my holy grail of squash pies, and Zillah so nicely asked for the recipe a while back, so here it is.

The first thing to note is that this pie is not made with pumpkin.  (Most pumpkin filling you buy at the store isn’t either – it’s sweet potato or a different squash).  If you really want, you can use pumpkin, but you’ll need to drain out the liquid – hang it in some cheesecloth overnight.  It will be nicer, also, if you puree it – pumpkin is very stringy, not at all like the smooth filling most of us expect.  I make my pie with squash – I cut the squash in half, scoop out the seeds, and roast it at 350 (or thereabouts, depending on what else I’m baking) until it’s completely soft and mushy.  Then I scoop it out of the skin, but some squash skin is delicious and you can blend it all up together.  My favorite varieties, personally, are Kuri, Buttercup, Butternut, and Sweet Dumpling.  Then again, I haven’t tried them all yet . .  .  Also, the sweetness of the squash can vary a lot – the first time I made this the sweetness was perfect, but the next time it really could’ve used a bit more maple syrup.  So taste your squash and adjust as needed.  (You can always drizzle some maple syrup on top of the pie afterward – oh darn, right?)

The big change I made to this recipe was that I left out the heavy cream.  I love cream, but when I went to make this pie I didn’t have any, so I decided to try it without, and it was amazing.  The cream really mellows out the flavor, too much for my tastes, and without it, the squash sings load and clear.

The Best Squash Pie

1 1/2 pounds roasted squash, pumpkin, or sweet potato

1/4 c butter, softened

1/4 c maple syrup

2 large eggs

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp ground cloves

1/2 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/2 tsp sea salt

pie crust (I recommend the lard crust from Cooking from Quilt Country – the easiest and most delicious you’ll ever make)

Preheat the oven to 350.  Roll out your pie crust, fill your pan, and chill in the fridge for at least 15 minutes.  (This prevents the crust from falling down when you bake it.)  Pre-bake the crust for about 15 minutes, until just firm.

Meanwhile, mix together all remaining ingredients.  Pour into pie crust and bake for about 1 hour, until the filling is lightly brown and a bit puffed up.  Let it cool a bit, but this pie is at its best served warm.  Even better the day for lunch.

Today we have our first snowfall on the ground, and I have my first little cold of the season.  Back soon.