Comstock Chronicles: Filled to the Tippy Top

Is it proper to list all the ways I'm blessed when other people don't have half so much? I wonder. But keeping silent and morose about such lovely things doesn't seem right either. There's fog shrouding the hills, and rain splashing into puddles on our art deck, which I recently converted into a garden deck. Our extended family has just rained down gifts on us with such generosity and abundance that there's absolutely no way to thank everyone properly. 

The Lord kept me well while Rose had the sniffles and Lee a fever, Benny threw up and Phil has had a prolonged cold. I've got a mild sore throat now, but my energy is sufficient to make rolls with the boys and bring the chickens in for the night. We have plans to make a second story on our old rabbit hutch so that the hens have a place to stay warm, lay eggs, and hide. 

Last week I prepared four pounds of beef stew in two batches in the instant pot. I did the meat properly too, the long way. I coated them in flour and spices and then browned them on all sides before scraping the bits up from the bottom of the pot and adding the vegetables and broth. The stew has lasted us over a week and no one has grown tired of it. We've had it over rice and now we'll have it with hot rolls.

This Christmas Phil and I made each other gifts for the bathroom wall. His was a gorgeous cherry wood bath caddy that doubles as a shelf. It fits in various positions in and out of the tub. My gift to him was some air plants and a piece of pine bark from the mountains. Phil did most of the work securing the back of the bark to ensure it didn't break into pieces and drilling holes for the air plants. These Tillandsia take their nutrients from the air. They like a moist environment or a fortnight soaking. 

My sister knit me the most beautiful pale pink neck wrap that is doubly thick with some sort of complicated stitch. My children donned these sweaters that my Grandma Taylor knit for me and my siblings way back in the day. The intricate flower patterns in the little girl's sweater was simply remarkable. 

A break in the weather gave us time in the sunshine where we trimming trees and woodworked. I gave our fig its yearly chop. I get such a feeling of power and order when I lob off its branches. I feel as if I were deciding just how the fig will grow next year. The truth of the matter is that the fig sprouts new branches where ever it pleases irregardless of where I cut.

Inspired by the BBC's Gardener's World, this year I'm attempting to compost the fig leaves in the garden. I usually put all the leaves in the green bin, but after watching the show, I'm wondering why I don't take advantage of God's natural decay process to put nutrients back into my yard. Actually, I know why. I like spaces to look tidy, and composting is messy and ugly. So we'll see how long I can stand the compost pile outside my kitchen window. The children took all the leftover branches and created a teepee in the backyard. They covered it in fig leaves and podocarpus branches. 

As the year comes to a close, we prepare to send out a dear family member who has roomed with us for the last two and half years. Simeon Goodenough has found a place in our home and our hearts. He has filled the kitchen with the scents of his cooking concoctions. He has sewed us various garments that we could never find in a clothing store. He has played with out children and was Benny's caretaker for a season while I homeschooled the big kids. We have walked with him through many adventures and will be sad to see him go. Blessings, Simeon!