Weekly Update: 5.11.24
A year ago today, I woke to rain dripping on our tent fly. I distinctly remember how peaceful it was. Then we got the call. My Memaw was gone, and the world seemed that much grayer. Rain fell softly for hours -- it seemed that even the Ozarks of her ancestry and early childhood wept for her.

In the days after her death, I wrote about Memaw's influence on our lives, how we wouldn't be where we are today without her legacy.
We lost our grandma, Aloma Reid Akins, this week. It’s hard to think about anything else as I turn my attention to a weekly update. She was so much more than just a grandma. She was a friend, always ready to talk about anything. She was a teacher, passing on sewing and handwork skills to all who wanted to learn. She was a light, with a smile that brightened the whole room. And more than all of that, she was a family story-keeper, tying us to our deep-rooted Ozark history.
I'm so thankful for the countless happy memories I have of her. Still, I have ached for her this year, longing to tell her what we are doing. As a maker of so many things, she would have loved to hear how our projects have challenged all of our creative skills and pushed us beyond what we thought we could do. As we are edging toward the more aesthetic parts of our build, she would have so enjoyed talking to us about decorating ideas. In her own home, she was always redecorating one room or another. On her frequent and lengthy visits when I was growing up, she often helped sew curtains or redecorate a room. It was her own sort of art I think. She found so much joy in creating beautiful, welcoming, and sometimes unique spaces.
This week, storms and sickness seemed to dictate much of our routine. We were kept up late Monday night when severe thunderstorm and tornado warnings sent us scurrying to our shelter. The same happened again Wednesday afternoon -- only that time, the storm never actually hit us. Each trip to the shelter was even more of an adventure than usual this week, with sick family members coughing and sniffling the whole time we were in there. Only five people have had the germ so far, though after the close quarters of the shelter, I wonder when the rest of us will finally come down with it.
When weather and health allowed, we worked on the garden. On Saturday, Levi and Jeremiah cut some trees for fence posts. We had a bunch of posts from last year, but we needed about 16 more to finish. I helped scout out the right sorts of trees -- straight, around 6 inches in diameter, hopefully tall enough to get a couple posts out of. The guys used the chainsaw to cut them down, then they drug them up to the garden site. About an hour into our project, the chainsaw blew a hose. My dad tried to repair it, but finally had to give up. We had made a good start on the posts, but we still needed a few more trees. Jeremiah decided to get his lumber jack on, grabbed the axe, and got to work. He finished cutting down the trees by evening. Levi got busy using our big miter saw to square the ends of the posts and cut them down to the right size. Then he started setting posts -- a task he worked on daily all week.
As for our plants, Bonnie-Jean and Erin babied our starts, taking them out for sun each day. Bonnie-Jean transplanted a bunch out of the trays into little pots. One day, we put down some old tarps and cardboard to keep the weeds at bay in the garden. Grace spent time breaking up the ground. The rest of us got out there whenever we could.
When we weren't in the garden, we worked on our apiary. I researched and ordered supplies for bee care. Grace and I assembled the Bee Castle Langstroth hive Jeremiah gave the family for Christmas. Grace, Dad, and I also worked on building two Layens hives. I used the Layens hive pattern from Dr. Leo Sharashkin's website, as well as his stand and peaked roof. Grace sanded all the pieces before we added the tongues, grooves, and rabbets. Dad helped us figure out our new Skil table saw and Kobalt router. Our beekeeping supplies arrived last night. The Bee Castle kit looks great (it was more affordable than buying everything separately). Erin modeled the beekeeping jacket, which is light weight and comfortable. Hopefully we will be moving some of bees into their hives this weekend!
As we've monitored our bees in their swarm traps, we have wondered at the abundance of blackberry blossoms this year. It is no wonder that honey bees are enjoying our area. We are looking forward to all the berry picking we will be doing this summer.
We've also enjoyed more casual bird watching. We were thrilled that some Baltimore Oriole's found the oranges we hung around the kids' tree fort. Last week, Jeremiah surprised the kids with a scrap-material tree fort. It still needs painted, but it is already so cool, I want to hang out in it! We will share more about the tree fort next week.
Other birds of dozens of varieties have been darting around our woods and field as well. We don't even know what kinds they all are, though we are looking forward to figuring it out.
On Sunday, we celebrated a rainy Cinco de Mayo. We had a Mexican feast of Paella and taco toppings. We were glad the rain held off long enough for the kids to enjoy a piñata.
It has been fun taking a small break from the bunkhouse to do other things. Its an investment of time right now, but we are looking forward to all the vegetables we will reap this summer. And just maybe, by fall, we will be sipping coffee sweetened with just a bit of our own local honey. This is why we chose to homestead. It feels good to be making small steps toward self-sufficiency.
The highlight of the week came last night, when reports of a solar storm promised a rare sight for the Ozarks. Streaks of pale pink and green danced across the stars as my whole family stood outside, heads all turned skyward. The colors were faint, but they were there -- twirling and swirling in and out of view. I had heard that we might get to see the Aurora Borealis this week, but I didn't really believe it would happen. But it did, and it was one of the most beautiful, moving sights I've ever seen. Grace captured several photos with her iPhone camera, which picked up the colors even better than we could see with the naked eye.
Waking up this morning, the sun filled blue sky is so different than that rainy May 11 last year. The quote I wrote about from Wendell Berry still echoes through my mind. We have, in the face of our grief, "lived right on." While we have all ached for my grandma, I have seen how she is still with us in so many ways. I see her smile on my mom's face -- and on my niece Chloe's. I see her in my sister Bonnie-Jean, whose looks and personality have always been so like Memaw's. I see Memaw's love of crochet in my niece Eilley Mae, whose delight in the craft rivals her great-grandmother's. I've seen her in my sister Grace, who approaches each new project with Memaw's "Oh, I could make that" confidence. I see her in myself, as I talk out every little thing I'm doing with whoever is around. And if I am working alone, I often find I talk to myself -- just the way Memaw used to.
This evening, we are remembering my grandma by making one of her favorite meals to cook for my mom -- her own version of Swiss steak and potatoes, along with buttered green beans with crackers. She was never much of a drinker, but she loved Kahlua and cream, so we are whipping up a sugar-free version for dessert. I wish we could share tonight's meal with her, but I will content myself with looking ahead to that heavenly feast we will all partake in together one day. It's this hope in eternity that softens grief's pangs. Someday heaven and earth will come together, and this abundant life will be fully restored.