Living Nativity On Our Farm

 

I wrote the following journal entry on December 13^th, 2003 but the actual Living Nativity took place around 1985.

Our living nativity was a beautiful event.  It was staged during the time when  our 4-H Club was fairly new.  Most of the members during our first year came from our church (Faith Community United Presbyterian – Novi).

Larry and I fixed up the sheep shed.  We put a star on top and had a light shining on it.  We set-up a record player for music and in the shed we rigged up a manger.  We put a board across the door to keep visitors on the outside – they could look in and observe the stable and its occupants but couldn’t enter. 

I made ice lanterns which were placed at intervals from the house to the stable.  To make the lanterns, I filled large pails with water and let them sit outside all night and in the morning, I ran water on the bottom of each pail and the ice slid out.  The ice lantern was the same size as the pail but was hollow on the inside because the water wasn’t frozen all the way through.  When the water was dumped out, a space was created for a candle.  The light shining through the ice was beautiful. 

 The shepherds – Brian Molloy, Mike Everett and probably Jon Henderson, started a small bonfire and stood by the sheep which were fenced in behind the shed.  Colleen Fahrner was the baby Jesus (a large baby Jesus), Anna Schmidt was Mary and Jason Everett was Joseph.  Suzanne Everett, Joan Fahrner and Jenny Henderson were the Three “Wise Ladies” and Sarah Schmidt, Jenny Wroe and Julie Fahrner were Angels. The church gave us permission to use the costumes that had been made for a previous Christmas Pageant. 

That night, it was extremely cold but the moon cast its light on the farm, the record player began to play Christmas music, the star was lit, all the participants were in place and it was beautiful.  We had a nice size group of very appreciative people gather for the event.  They endured the cold and stayed till the end when Larry read the story of the birth of Jesus. 

It was a very simple setting but everything came together and provided all of us with memories that we will always carry with us.

I wrote down some of my thoughts later – “Silent night, holy night” – cold – snow sparkling – half moon – jet stream – angels proclaiming Jesus was born – Shepherds fighting over crook - spotlight on star – record player playing Christmas Carols – way too cold - lanterns from ice – sheep at fence – people around bonfire – We Three “Wise Ladies” – Care Bear gift for Baby Jesus (not for keeps) - all coming together for a very special evening.  It was magical.

Silent Night, Holy Night...

 I wrote this on February 2^nd, 1985 – it wasn’t Christmas Eve but I remember that the visit to the barn and shed gave me a feeling for what it might have been like in the stable on that special night so long ago.  I used the idea for a children’s message I did at our church on December 3^rd, 2003.

2:00AM – Barn Check

Some people would say I’m absolutely crazy and probably I am.  It’s two in the morning, six below zero and I’ve been running around outside, snowmobile suit over pajamas, playing shepherdess.  There’s no way I could go through the night without one barn check.  Big Mama, my 3 year old Columbian ewe, is huge, her bag shows signs of enlargement and I know her time is near.  As usual, I’ve been overanxious and during the last week I’ve been sure that she was ready to give birth at least ten times.  Waiting is very hard.  She looks so uncomfortable and I’m not a patient person.  I want to see those lambs and know all is going well but being a shepherd forces me into patience – slow down – let nature have its way… 

There is something soothing about going into the barn at night.  I don’t enjoy getting out of a warm bed – pulling on my snowmobile suit and boots or facing that first blast of cold air but once out, my mood changes and my spirits lift.  The snow crunches under my boots, shadows from the bright moon are all around.  The dog greets me and begs to be let out to play but not tonight Maxi and I go right into the barn.  The pig is hiding under the straw and the sheep are huddled together.  I make a quick check – one ewe, Patch, will be ready soon but not now.  I scratch my cat, turn off the light and move over to the sheep shed.  The sheep are startled but I talk to them as I enter and they calm down.  Big Mama looks more sunken in the hips – seems to be breathing harder.  I’m sure she’ll deliver soon.  I stand and watch for signs of discomfort, the sound of her breathing and the cud-chewing of the other ewes has a quieting effect on me.  It’s so peaceful – any discomfort or anxiety I had is gone. The sheep will deliver when ready but not tonight. 

I say goodnight to my ewes and walk back to the house.  The glow of the light from our kitchen window welcomes me and when I open the door, I feel the warmth of our woodstove.  I’m wide awake and so I sit down and write this journal entry and my final thought before I go back to bed, is of this old Christmas Carol – “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright…sleep in heavenly peace”. 

 

Christmas Traditions

 

CHRISTMAS TRADITIONS – THEN AND NOW

Written November 24, 2013

 

The Christmas season officially begins with the arrival of Eddie the Elf.  He arrives December 1 and he returns to the North Pole with Santa on Christmas Eve.  He is our friend but, just like the song, he reports to Santa and tells him who’s been “naughty or nice”.  Eddie began visiting us beginning with Jill in Oak Park and he has continued to visit ever since. Eddie is magic.  He can fly – he moves around the house – sometimes he sits on a shelf or the window sill or the Christmas tree.  We all love Eddie but especially Jill, Anna and Sarah and now our grandchildren.  He is a part of every Christmas.  We are all sad when he leaves with Santa but we know he’ll be back the next Christmas and every other Christmas after that.

Just going through Christmas "stuff". Found letter that Anna wrote Santa on 12-24-83. "Dear Santa, this carrot is for Rudolph. Here is some brandy for you. I hope you give me what I want. Will you write a letter and put it in my stocking. Love, Anna P.S. I hope you don't get stuck in the snow. I love taking care of Eddie (the elf)."

The girls have always helped with decorating the Christmas tree.  We have almost always had a real Christmas tree – the smell of pine fills the living room.  There are bubble lights – special ornaments and the Christmas angel placed on the top of the tree.  Decorating the house and tree, a shared family tradition.

 Through the years our Christmas traditions have evolved – we have the new but so many of the old live on and continue today – the old and new – so meaningful to our family – the old Nativity set (from my youth) – Christmas music – Drummer Boy – Spike Jones and his crazy band – a visit to Frankenmuth – Advent calendars - Christmas pig (not eaten) – cocoa – Christmas Eve church service – shrimp – steak cooked on woodstove fire – goodbye  Eddie - Christmas morning – Christmas gifts – Christmas stockings – lottery tickets (almost always losers) – toast and tomatoes – Christmas day at Ada’s – Christmas Day at Sarah and Troys – traditions of the holiday season then and now.

 MERRY CHRISTMAS – FELIZ NAVIDAD

                 HAPPY NEW YEAR Y UN PROSPERO ANO NUEVO!

Addison, the Baby Jesus and a Big Guy Named God

 

This was one of those conversations that began innocently and then went off the rails to a place I don’t want to revisit – for a moment in time, I was the “Grandma from Hell”.

December, 2012 (Addison was 4)

I’m going to take Addison to church today.  This is the first time for me in a couple years and Addison’s first time ever.  I really need to straighten out this “Baby Jesus Thing”.  At Christmas, she helped me set-up the Nativity and I told her about the Baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  Later she asked me if the Baby Jesus was alive and without thinking, I said, “Oh Addison that was a long time ago”.  Addison apparently knows what “a long time ago” means and a little later, she came to me crying – “Is the Baby Jesus really dead?”  What had I done, my little Granddaughter thought the Baby Jesus was dead.  I had to come up with something to ease her distress.  I dug myself into a hole by saying, “Addison, the Baby Jesus is just like Eddie the Elf, he comes at Christmas time and then Santa takes them both back to the North Pole.”  What!!! Now she thinks the Baby Jesus travels with Eddie the Elf. 

So, continuing the story, I was reading Chia and Addison a Laura Ingalls Wilder book for Preschoolers.  Addison knows a lot about the Ingalls family and their good old dog Jack.  Halfway through the story she told Chia that they (the Ingalls family) weren’t “real”.  I told her they were a real family.  She said, “Did they live before or after the Baby Jesus?”

I’m hoping to straighten this out today.  Of course, hard to do – my daughter, Sarah (Addison’s mother), told Addison yesterday that when she goes to Sunday School, they would talk about a big guy named God.   So now, Addison thinks the Baby Jesus travels with Eddie the Elf and Santa, the Ingalls family lived before or maybe after the Baby Jesus and somewhere there’s a big guy named God.  Maybe we should just skip Sunday School and go to Leo’s for pancakes and sausage.  

Mom, The Pig and Anna

 Life in the Schmidt house could be unusual.  This is an example from a November, 1992 journal entry.

I awoke this morning to the sounds of grunt, grunt, grunt.  I looked at the clock – 5:15AM.  My piglet, Itsy-Bitsy-Betsy was hungry.  I forced myself to get up.  I warmed a cup of milk, fed her and went back to bed – then…grunt, grunt, grunt – Betsy wanted out to take care of her early morning personal needs. “Hey pig, use your litter box.” “Grunt, grunt, grunt – no way”, so, at 5:30 AM, we're outside – temperature 25 degrees and Betsy is relieving herself on the grass.  We return to the house and by now, Anna is up and preparing for another day and calls out a request for French toast.  I stand in the kitchen and notice Betsy is out in the dining room getting frisky.  She runs and slides and jumps and turns.  I walk out to see her and then turn to go back into the kitchen.  She begins to chase me.  I run back to dining room – she chases me.  Back and forth we go – me in my bathrobe and slippers being chased by a piglet – click, click, click – the sound of little piggy hooves.  Anna comes out of the bathroom, looks at me as if I’d lost my mind.  I say, “How many other high school students in Novi are getting ready for the day while their mothers run around the kitchen and dining room being chased by a pig – it kind of sets apart from the crowd.”

Sarah and the Pig's "Broken Leg"

 

October 9, 1983

Today we made sausage for the first time.  We took a 4 lb. pork roast from the fridge to use for the experiment.  Larry cut the meat from the bone while Sarah watched (she was 4).  He showed her the bone which had a ball and socket joint.  She knew it was from a pig leg and played with it, pretending to make it walk.  Off and on while we were busy making the sausage, she would go back to the bone and walk it across the cutting board.  Later, Sarah went outside and when she returned, she announced, “Mom, I saw the pig, too bad he wouldn’t stand-up so I could see his broken leg.”  I then realized what she’d been thinking – this bone and accompanying meat had come from our pig out in the barn and she went out there to see what it would look like with its “broken leg”.  We then explained that the meat we used was from a pig we had previously butchered and that the pig in the barn was still getting around on all 4’s.

(Sarah was about 4 in the picture.)

The Three Little Piggies

 

This story was in the March, 1983 Countryside Magazine – a magazine for serious homesteaders – people who live beyond the sidewalks.

The Three Little Piggies

We bought our five acres in 1975 and immediately proceeded to plant an orchard – which died, plant a garden – on rocks, built a chicken coop, bought chickens, built a pigpen and bought three little pigs.

We bought the pigs from a friend and moved them into an area, not yet completed.  Their pen was next to our chicken coop, also not completed.  The chickens and pigs were separated by a fence that we thought was secure but was not!

One night we heard a lot of noise from the chicken area and my husband and I ran out to investigate.  To our unhappy surprise, the three pigs had gone through the fence and were eating our chickens.  Dead and dying chickens surrounded the pigs and old Mr. Rooster, apparently in shock, walked back and forth as in a carnival shooting gallery.

We improved the fencing and added a strand of barbed wire to the bottom which cut one of the pigs when we tried to catch it.  We decided to try electric fencing, which scared one of the pigs causing it to run wild, became tangled in it and caused an injury which required a vet.

The electric fencing finally worked out, but our problems weren’t over.  I remember the time I walked out to check the pigs, and they were all acting strange.  They staggered around the pen and looked drunk.  I took a whiff of their mash, it smelled like whiskey so I’m sure they were but I have no idea how the mash could ferment in one day.  The “pig gods” were against us.

My lack of pig expertise led to a tragedy.  I fed the three pigs “pigweed” that I pulled from an area near our neighbor’s garden.  They really enjoyed it and I decided for a treat, I’d give them a wheelbarrow full of the weed.  Our largest pig, Mr. Glutton, ate so much that he bloated and then died.  Ugh!

Finally, the day came to load our remaining two pigs to transport them to the slaughter house.  My 6’4” brother and my 6’2” husband chased those pigs around the pen for two hours.  There was a new snow on the ground which complicated the whole process of getting the pigs up a ramp and into a trailer.  My husband was dragged through snow, mud and manure; my brother climbed up the ramp into the trailer to demonstrate to the pig what he should do – the pig wasn’t impressed or willing to cooperate.

Finally one pig went into the trailer but the other was still loose.  What to do now, ah-ha, a solution: Mix one bottle of Boone’s Farm Apple Wine, two shots of whiskey and one dash of corn mash.  Pig ate, pig staggered, pig was pushed into the trailer!

Our problems were over – well, not quite.  My husband delivered them to the slaughter house, our pig got loose in the parking lot.  It took all the butchers in pursuit to finally capture the poor pig, who was then taken in to meet his maker. The two pigs returned to the farm in the form of bacon, hams, pork roasts and chops, ribs, sausage and fat to be rendered into lard.  We didn’t think we’d raised any more pigs but with the passage of time, we tried again and had success – loading time eventually was reduced to ten minutes.

We still have a great deal to learn, but we heat 90% of the time with a woodstove, our new orchard is beginning to produce, our garden soil is rich and productive, I preserve our bounty, my husband butchered four lambs last fall and we are raising a cow to be butchered next fall.  Little by little, we are becoming more self-sufficient – it’s work but worth it.

A Place Of Our Own To Love

 

MAPLEWOODS  FARM

A PLACE OF OUR OWN – A PLACE TO LOVE

10-17-2013

My friend Betty Shilling sent me a DVD – Greenfire, which deals with the life of environmentalist, Aldo Leopold (Sand County Almanac).  It makes me “weepy” and this morning I realized that some of this emotion relates to our little farm.  When Aldo bought his piece of property in the Sand County of Wisconsin, he wanted a piece of his own land to bring back to life.  We did the same (on a smaller scale) with our farm.  It was the land that inspired us to buy it 38 years ago – 5 acres of our own.

The house had to be brought back to life.  We took on that project and we began a long, slow process to turn this farm into the little treasure we have now.  Larry planted trees, we built sheds for our animals, created pastures and gardens.  It became a wonderful place to raise our girls and it became a very special place for our extended family, friends, 4-H Club and the children in my Farm Camps.  Year after year we have seen our farm evolve and become an oasis on a road that was once dirt with very few homes and now a very busy street with condos and large homes. 

 It has become a place for our grandchildren to roam and enjoy.  They play with the chickens, run on the paths in our pasture, climb trees, make maple syrup, watch birds, chase fireflies and explore the woods throughout the seasons.  This land and our home – the farm – is to us what Aldo’s little Sand County retreat was to him and his family, a place to love.