Happy Canada Day from the newest–and cutest–Canadian at the farm.
And to all my American readers, happy 4th of July too.
Happy Canada Day from the newest–and cutest–Canadian at the farm.
And to all my American readers, happy 4th of July too.
The moment Ellie was born, she let out a cry and the doctor placed her on my chest. Matt said, “It’s a girl.” And he was laughing. I was in an over-whelmed haze at that moment, but hearing that happiness, that emotion is something I will never forget.
So much joy that he had to laugh.
A few hours later, our midwife asked for her name. I looked at Matt and he said her name for the first time. That act of him naming her is one of the best moments of my life.
We have some amazing examples of fathers in our lives. Men who are hard-working, kind, selfless and who do anything for their children.
These are qualities I have always seen in Matt, and they have reached another level as he has become a Dad.
Happy Father’s Day, from our family to yours.
When he first met Ellie, our oldest nephew was worried. He thought that we might not need his help anymore now that we had Ellie. She would work with us around the farm, or we wouldn’t be doing as many projects because we were busy with her.
We quickly clarified that we felt like we needed him more than ever. Ellie is a long way from being helpful and, yes, we are busy with her, but there is still lots we wanted to do.
Every time we saw him after that, he asked if we needed him to come to the farm. Finally, we set a date for him to come over and start the spring clean up, picking up branches that had fallen over the winter and piling them up to burn.
I set him up with the tractor, and he went to work. A month later he was back, digging out rocks, burning more brush and helping to pick up firewood.
Over our six years at the farm, and especially since having Ellie, we have had lots of help from family and friends. We are extremely grateful that people are willing to give us their time and help make the farm what we envision.
Our nephew is 18 years old. I remember the first time I met him at the hospital the day he was born. It’s been so rewarding to watch him grow up, and I’m so proud of the responsible, caring, hard-working young man that he is now.
I hope that we can teach Ellie those same values and that she shares her big cousin’s enthusiasm for helping around the farm.
Matt and I are very happy to introduce our daughter, Ellie, who joined our family on Feb. 23.
Ellie arrived one week before her due date and weighed 8 pounds even.
Her full name is Elizabeth Audrey Julia. Elizabeth from my mother’s middle name and Audrey from Matt’s mother’s name.
We’ve been doing very well getting to know each other. Ellie is a good sleeper and eater so far, and we’re doing our best to keep meeting her needs.
Baxter is maybe a little more watchful, but mostly he is his usual relaxed and lazy self. He chooses to interact with her every so often, sniffing or sharing his sunbeam or hanging out on the bed with us. He’s not bothered by her noises, except for the occasional moments when angry baby shows up. Mostly he ignores her and carries on as usual, which is exactly the response I was hoping for.
I’m continuing to write about the steps we took to prepare Bax for Ellie’s arrival on ThatMutt.com.
We’re all taking our time adjusting to our new family and enjoying life together.
It’s amazing to see our families come together in this little girl and think about what her future holds. The optimism and possibility that a baby brings are pretty special.
Hello everyone. Happy 2018. We enjoyed a nice long, relaxing break (thanks for your patience with the silence on the blog).
I’m calling the break well-deserved because it turns out Santa brought his friend the Stork when he visited our house over the holidays.
Our little family of Matt, Ralph, Baxter and I is going to be welcoming a new addition early in March.
As we start the new year, there’s obviously lots of news to share–the baby’s room, how Baxter’s getting ready to be a big brother (Ralph’s already got the big sister thing down), boy or girl–along with more updates from the farm.
While we’re counting down to baby’s arrival, I’m going to be decreasing my posting schedule to once a week (Sarah in Illinois will be continuing as a contributor, so every other week you’ll see two posts).
I love keeping track of the memories we’ve made since moving to the farm through the blog and sharing our farm adventures with all of you. There’s lots more to come, and I’m hoping to continue sharing our story once baby arrives.
Just about two weeks ago, Matt had an important check up for his eye tumor. We had had a month of anxiety leading up to this appointment. While his eye is healing very well, a biopsy had revealed the tumor had a mutation that meant it may spread to other parts of his body.
This was not at all the result we were hoping for and was quickly followed by a meeting with an oncologist and then appointments for an MRI, CT and blood work to see if the tumor had spread anywhere.
Two weeks ago we found out that all of his scans came back clean.
It’s hard to describe the feelings in that moment. Just as it’s hard to describe what we’ve been feeling ever since we received the biopsy results. This note I stuck in my planner was a reminder that we only need positivity in our lives.
In times like this, all kinds of moments take on different meanings and I often feel like the universe is sending me messages.
We had left the hospital and been in the car for a few minutes, starting to make our way through the city traffic and back to the farm when at the same time we tuned in to the song that was playing on the radio.
“I can see clearly now, the rain is gone, I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It’s gonna be a bright, bright, bright, bright sunshiney day.
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone. All of the bad feelings have disappeared. Here is the rainbow I’ve been praying for. It’s gonna be a bright, bright, bright, bright sunshiney day.”
Fortunately, traffic was moving very slowly because we were both in tears again.
Throughout the month while we were waiting for this appointment, there were other songs, Instagram posts, messages, blogs and emails that have come through at the right moment. Some of them have been scary.
A blog titled “On illness, loss and identity” showed up in my reader the morning of Matt’s appointment. After waking up well before the alarm, I was trying to fill time online. But there was no way I was reading that post. However, it kept appearing, even opening on my phone when we stopped for an errand on the way to the hospital.
Finally, I read it.
The second last paragraph said, “I suggest that you reject fear and insecurity as well as the structures we have put into place in our lives that seem powerful, but now only serve as iron cages of anxiety, stress and fear.”
Yup. That’s what I needed at that moment.
There have been lots of intentional messages too, of people actively connecting to support us. I admit that I’ve been surprised how much those mean to me. When someone says, “You’re in my thoughts, I’m praying for you, I’m thinking of you,” it’s not an empty platitude for us. We know we have a huge support network–even of people we don’t know very well, like some of you readers–who are pulling for us and wishing us well.
We now have a clean slate for the rest of the year. Matt will continue to go for scans for awhile yet, and I’m sure the fear will return. For now we’re enjoying looking ahead to the holidays and the new year in a way we haven’t been.
Thank you for all of your support. It truly does mean a lot.
Inspirational messages I want to remember instagram.com/p/Bb9sdDynPVj/, instagram.com/p/BXMJpRgBXvk/, Lisa’s email on results day, hearing “Heaven” after HR paperwork–“nothing can take you away from me”
Alternate title for this post “That time Matt’s Dad didn’t suffocate and fall off our roof.”
If you’ve been reading along here for any length of time, you know how much we enjoy our wood-burning fireplace and have fires nightly as soon as the weather turns cold.
It’s been three years since the fireplace was rebuilt and over that time we’ve never cleaned the chimney.
Before we fired anything up this year, I knew I wanted to address that.
Our go-to was Matt’s Dad. He heats his entire house with wood and cuts and splits all his own firewood. He’s our resource for all things fire.
He initially suggested dropping a heavy chain down the chimney and using it to knock off the soot. I was skeptical, but after a quick online search it seemed like that was a legit method of cleaning a chimney. However, consensus seemed to be that a brush was a more legit method.
Onto my Dad. I was pretty sure I remembered seeing a chimney brush and poles up in the rafters of the garage. After spending some time on a ladder peering around the garage, I found the poles but no brush.
So onto the store. I found a brush that I thought would probably fit our chimney and brought it to my parents’ house to try it on their poles. They didn’t fit together.
Back to the store, where I bought a handful of poles guessing at how many might be needed to reach the full length of the chimney.
Once we had the equipment, we needed to prep the inside of the house. I cleaned out the hearth, opened the damper and then covered the mouth of the fireplace to prevent dust from coming into the house.
Then it was onto
Dick Van Dyke Matt and his Dad. (I asked for a Mary Poppins rooftop routine, but they were not in the mood. Although Matt did give me a strong man demonstration.)
They popped the cap off the chimney and took a look.
The chimney wasn’t too dirty. You can see the flakes of soot on the flue.
They screwed the brush onto the first pole and got ready to sweep.
Then this is where the suffocation comes in. Before he stuck the brush down the chimney, Matt’s Dad stuck his head in a large plastic bag–probably one that has a suffocation warning printed on it.
When he cleans his own chimney, my FIL does it from a ladder, which doesn’t give him much maneuverability. Therefore, there have been times where the wind has blown soot back in his face. The plastic helps to protect him from getting entirely dirty. On our roof, they could move around to avoid the wind if necessary.
The next stage was–to quote Matt–“dunk and scrub.” (My husband loves his movie references… although the line is actually “plunge and scrub,” but my darling husband maintains that “dunk” sounds better than “plunge”… or at least it does in his version of an Irish accent.)
dunked plunged the brush up and down in the chimney until the soot was removed. As he reached the end of one pole, he and Matt screwed on another section.
Once they’d done the full length of the chimney, that was all there was to it. They put the cap back on top, came inside and pulled the plastic off the opening, swept the wee bit of dust out of the hearth, and we were ready for a fire.
Cleaning the chimney turned out to be pretty easy (so says the woman on the ground… but seriously, I know I could do it and you can too). I’m very grateful to Matt and his Dad for their work.
Here are my tips to clean your chimney yourself.
Now we can enjoy the fireplace, confident that it’s safe and clean.
Our annual Christmas party is tomorrow. It’s always special to be together with family and friends and over the years Matt and I have come to really enjoy hosting everyone.
I commented on one of Brooklyn Limestone’s Instagram posts last week where Stefanie shared the beautiful engravings that I used as place cards for our very first month before Christmas party at the farm.
She was intrigued by our “month before Christmas” party, and our exchange got me thinking about the gatherings that Matt and I host every year.
It’s become a tradition that Matt and I host a few dinners on key occasions every year–the month before Christmas party for his Mom’s extended family and a Good Friday dinner for my Mom’s extended family.
I like having these set dates that everyone knows they’re coming to our house. We still send out invitations well in advance (a simple email reminder), but for the most part people have them in their calendar already.
Hosting a Christmas party (a bit more than) a month before Christmas can feel a little early, but we squeeze it in before schedules get too busy, so it’s easier for everyone to make it.
The guest list is extended family that we don’t get to see very often. As our families get bigger, we find it’s harder to see everyone, so this ensures that we’re connecting at least once a year.
The menus don’t change very much. Tomorrow Matt will be cooking a full Christmas dinner, and everyone will be bringing appetizers and sweets to share.
We try to keep it casual. The house will not be fully decorated for Christmas. Some reno projects are underway that have led to clutter. But the point–and the joy–is to have everyone together.
What holiday traditions do you have? Do you host parties at your house? What are the big occasions for your family? How do you keep your family connected?
Tomorrow we will mark another Remembrance Day. I’ve written before about how meaningful this day is to me.
My grandfather served in World War II. Nov. 11 is also his birthday. Every year, the family would be together on Remembrance Day, and some of us still carry on that tradition, meeting at the cenotaph just before 11 o’clock on Nov. 11.
Growing up, my grandparents lived next door. One of the fixtures of my grandmother’s garden was her poppy plant. Now, whether through wind, seeds, transplanting or cuttings, my parents have the descendants of this poppy.
This fall, I collected a bunch of seeds from my Mom’s plants. I’m hoping that they will grow in our garden here at the farm, and give me more memories of my grandparents.
Two and a half weeks ago Matt was diagnosed with an ocular melanoma–a tumor in his right eye.
Today, as we celebrate Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for many things.
I’m thankful for Matt’s worrywart tendencies that made him notice his peripheral vision was blurry. I’m thankful that he didn’t listen to me when I said, “You’re trying to look at an impossibly sharp angle. Of course it’s blurry. There’s nothing wrong.” I’m thankful that his parents happened to be at the optometrist and made him an appointment for the next afternoon.
The optometrist, who diagnosed a detached retina, took the situation seriously and referred him immediately to an emergency eye clinic at a local hospital. As the optometrist predicted that Matt would likely have surgery that night, he came home to get me, so that I could drive us to the hospital.
I’m grateful for the ophthalmologist who saw us, even though we arrived quite late after his shift had ended. Expecting to hear “detached retina” and “surgery” and hearing instead “tumor” and “melanoma” is still a blurry moment.
The ophthalmologist referred us to Princess Margaret Hospital, one of the leading cancer centres in Canada and experts in this type of eye tumor. Five days after Matt’s appointment with the optometrist, we were being seen by specialist after specialist at Princess Margaret.
I’m thankful that Princess Margaret is within driving distance of the farm. I’m thankful that the staff is so amazing and their processes make everything so easy. I’m thankful for Canada’s healthcare that gives us access to all of this. By the time we left the hospital we had a confirmed diagnosis, a treatment plan and a surgery scheduled in just two days.
Matt had a surgery that involved placing a small disc in his eye called a plaque. The radiologist described the plaque as like a bottle cap filled with radiation. It is placed over the tumour and stitched in place. The plaque stayed in his eye for six days and was removed on Wednesday in a second surgery.
I’m grateful for medical science that has come up with this treatment that is usually very successful and that allows Matt to keep his eye. I’m grateful that in most cases this type of tumor doesn’t spread (although we’re going through tests to try to make sure this is the case).
I’m thankful that Matt’s recovery has been smooth and we have family and friends supporting us both. I’m thankful that I’m now working at home for myself so I can easily juggle things to be where I need to be. I’m thankful that Matt and I have the relationship where we can get through this together with generosity, kindness, sympathy, openness, fear and humour for each other.
I’m sharing this situation because I want to remember this moment in our lives. I want to articulate gratefulness and thankfulness.
I also want to encourage everyone to go and get your annual check ups. Dentist, doctor, optometrist–it doesn’t matter how you feel. Go to the doctor. Matt has never had problems with his vision. Has never had glasses. It seemed like there was no reason for him to go to the eye doctor.
Most of the time, nothing is wrong. Great. Check that box. You did your annual check up. But maybe sometimes there is something wrong. And they notice it and you get great treatment and your life goes back to normal.
And that’s one final wish I will add this Thanksgiving, if it’s not asking too much. Amongst all of this gratitude, I will be very thankful if this treatment works, the tumor fades and my husband and I move on in health.
I’m going to be taking the rest of this week off from the blog. I’ll be back with more posts next week.