Weekly Update: 4.27.24
Rain pours from heavy gray clouds, greening the earth further with each drop. I've spent most of the last few days inside the tent, listening to the rain fall -- a din that sometimes obscures any other noise -- and watching through the windows as the leaves deepen their verdant hues. It is wild and beautiful.
We had so much rain on Friday, our wet weather creek was running. It only happens a couple times a year. The water seemed higher than we have seen it before.
Just a few feet away, our newly competed bunkhouse roof keeps our hard work protected and dry. For the first time in months, I enjoy the rain without wondering what damage it may be doing to our build. Roofing the bunkhouse turned into a months-long process, as a winter fraught with bad weather and sickness seemed to interrupt us at every turn. This spring, windy weekends and holidays slowed us down. Finally, last weekend, we got the job done. Seeing days of rain in the immediate forecast, we worked all day Saturday and Sunday. We quickly found a tight rhythm, as Grace and I prepped each panel for installation. We marked where each screw would go. We cleaned debris off of the metal panels, which had been tarped since last fall. Our little niece Chloe helped, holding tape measures and running errands. Grace and I carried the panels to our dad, who stood on a ladder or scaffolding, ready to help pass the sheets up and install them from the ground. Levi and Jeremiah worked on the roof, wielding drills and roofing screws. Sunday afternoon, we realized we were going to run out of screws, so Erin ran to Springfield for some more, saving the day. The rest of the family worked around us, fixing meals, bringing food and drinks, and helping everything run smoothly. We finished Sunday evening, just as the sun began to dip into the western trees.
We collapsed that night, joyous and relieved to have the project behind us. It was a fitting completion, as Monday marked the one year anniversary of living on our homestead. We had celebrated early on Sunday morning with pancakes and buttermilk syrup -- which had been the first breakfast we ate out here.
After such a crazy weekend, we enjoyed a week of lighter work. On Monday, dad installed an exhaust fan in our tent. As the weather has started to warm up, we've been having the tent get quite hot -- and it takes hours to cool off in the evening, even once it is cool outside. We wanted something to pull the hot air out and let the cool air in, and so far, the exhaust fan seems to be doing the job. We've been much more comfortable this week.
We've also spent some time working in the garden. We are disappointed with how slow going the rock removal is, but we are making progress each week. We've had to accept that we will likely have a smaller garden this year than we would like, but each year we can expand it.
Since I knew we were in for a quieter week than some, I decided to tackle a project we've been putting off for months. We had saved scraps of beef fat from several large cuts of meat over the last year, and I decided to try to rend it into tallow. I used a slow cooker method recommended by Bumble Bee Apothecary. I've done one purifying process so far, though I plan to do another, as there is still quite a "beefy odor". I plan to do a fuller review of the project when it is complete. Still, I'm thrilled that it seems to be working. When the tallow is finished, Bonnie-Jean plans to turn some of it into tallow balm.
I spent most of the rest of the week researching how to run electric and putting together a supply list. It is another big, daunting job, but it's something we have done before -- at least partially. We've been watching a YouTube series on electric work from The Excellent Laborer, which Levi discovered when researching plumbing. We ordered a Kobalt right angle drill from Lowe's, and we plan to pick up the rest of our supplies from Menards sometime this week.
It's been a cozy week for planning -- the rainy weather providing the perfect ambiance for sipping coffee and drafting plans. Between downpours, we all dart outside to get food or walk our dogs, taking in the unfurling of spring. I wrote often last year of the arresting beauty of life spent so much in nature. I grew up that way, but I had forgotten what a consolation the natural world is. Winter requires less time steeped in the abundant balance of a green world. Now that the tangible life of spring has returned to the Ozarks, we complete even our most simple tasks against a buzzing, glimmering backdrop. Balmy breezes tickle our faces and the primal scents of earth, rain, and honeysuckle fill our lungs. As I work, I can't help thinking about God and how He placed us in a world of such gratuitous beauty, His artwork flowing from every hill and hollow. It didn't have to be this way -- but it is. So many of our petty anxieties melt away in the face of the simple grandeur of a pecan tree or blackberry blossom. We can't help feeling that the hands that painted each blade of grass hold us in all our troubles. Life can be hard and hectic and overwhelming, but the ever-present beauty reminds us that in this place, we can rest.