Clean.

A little more

If there was one thing that this farm and this family and this homeschooling journey has helped me become, it's just a little more.

A little more present, a little more hard-working, a little more patient, awake, determined.

A little more of me becoming the person I've always wanted to be.

This shift hasn't come through huge or profound transformations or resolutions, but instead through small changes that link together one after the next. A little more. Then a little more again.

And small step by small step these changes have led me toward a more whole version of myself. A me that I'm glad to be becoming.

 

What if our goal wasn't to be perfectly or completely anything, but instead to be just a little more?

 

Not big changes in ourselves but small ones.

Small changes that help us become our higher selves, one immeasurable shift at a time.

 

And then we might find ourselves aligned just a little more with what we value. Even if only for today.

We might become a little more present or a little more alive.

A little more positive, encouraging, or kind.

A little more patient, compassionate, hard-working, or available.

A little more fit or self-loving or joyful or anything that you long to become.

 

And through these small changes we begin to see our gifts and our struggles more clearly, and move - just a bit - toward our truer self.

 

For me small steps are easy. They come quickly. They stick. And most importantly, they don't overwhelm.

If our only goal is the smallest step, we never fall short and only move in our best direction.

 

And so it begins. With just one. Small. Step.

And then one more.

 

How would it feel if you let yourself become... just a little more?

 

 

Natural poison ivy care

I'll be honest. This is not a post I planned - or even wanted - to write.

Because that would mean I needed actual real-life (recent!) experience on the subject.

Which I was sure I did not want.

Because I had plennnnnty of practice as a kid. I was a P.I.-pro. I used to say I didn't even need to touch poison ivy to get a rash. I just had to walk past it or think about it and boom! Rash. Everywhere.

I had no need to go back that place. Again. Ever.

Until.

Until!

I had the misfortune last weekend of revisiting my childhood with an epic poison ivy rash on both of my arms. More on one and less on the other, but enough on either to make me insane.

Now double it.

 

Oh, this itching. It's really unlike any other.

 

So since I'm over here, slightly out of my head with oozing, itching, blisters I thought the time was right to test natural remedies for PI care.

Because I love you that much!

You're so welcome.

(You know me. Just takin' one for the team.) Okay. Not really. Just desperate for comfort. Desperate, I tell you!

So here's my take on the best-of-the-best natural ways to beat the itch of Poison Ivy.

If you don't need it now, pin it for later. Because you never do know!

(Sorry in advance if I just cursed you.)

Natural Poison Ivy Care

Plant ID

Knowing how to identify poison ivy is your first and best defense!

Poison ivy tends to be found in abundance in disturbed areas like along trails, roadways, or in campgrounds. This fun green party is right across from my mailbox. Good times abound.

Here are three simple rhymes to help you ID poison ivy when you're out and about:

Leaves of three, let it be.

Red leaflets in spring is a dangerous thing!

Longer middle stem? Stay away from them.

Other key distinguishing characteristics are the slightly shiny leaves and a red or pink base of each leaflet stem where the three leaflets come together. (See photo above, bottom right and upper left).

Being sensitive to PI since childhood and also being a naturalist, I have ID'd and avoided the plant easily for years. (You only have to roll around in poison ivy once as a kid to never again miss-identify this plant! Yes. Really.)

So how did I get such a bad rash this time around? I picked it up off of my goat! She was helping me clear out a nasty patch along our road (by eating it, as goats will do), and days later I came in contact with her hair, unfortunately transferring and abundance of the oils to my skin.

Bummer, right?

I know.

 

So let's pretend that you either messed up on the ID part or were hanging out with my goats and think you have come into contact with poison ivy. Now what?

Wash Up!

If you suspect you have come into contact with poison ivy wash up your skin. And fast!

Soap and water are ideal, but if you're out for a hike that's rarely possible.

Because I'm so sensitive to poison ivy I often carry homemade baby wipes with me on hikes. If my children or I stumble into a plant I quickly and thoroughly wipe us down, then toss the contaminated wipes in an empty zip bag. (I use washcloths soaked in my Baby Wipe Juice but store-bought or homemade disposable wipes work, too.)

If you don't have wipes with you, use soap and water to wash up as soon as possible! For. Real.

Edited to add: no short of a dozen of you sent me this video after I shared this post. And it makes so much sense! Give it a watch and use this technique next time you think you may have been exposed.

Clean Your Stuff

Don't stop with skin! When you get back home also launder all clothes, shoes, socks, bags - anything that might have come into contact with the plant oil.

Things that are not washable (your camera for example) can be carefully wiped down with alcohol or witch hazel dampened paper towels.

Wash hands well after this job.

Treat the Rash

So let's say (hypothetically speaking) that you end up with a rash anyway.

What now?

Since I took one for the team this week and slathered myself in PI oils, I've tested bucket-loads of remedies. And I've got the scoop on what works and what doesn't.

Here are a few of my favorite ways to reduce the itching and speed healing (and - hopefully - keep your sanity while you do it), as well as a couple of "eh" remedies that didn't work for me but might be the ticket for you.

We all have different skin types and there is not magic bullet that will work for everyone. Experiment and see what is best for you.

Edited to add: my poison ivy got very bad very fast after I shared this post. In the end one of my favorite items never made this list since I posted before I discovered it. I mixed french green clay with with hazel and peppermint essential oil and spread it on my rash as needed. It worked beautifully. 10 out of 10.

Rhus Toxicodendron

The homeopathic remedy Rhus Tox. has been my saving grace. If you are anxious and agitated with your rash, this might just be your remedy! Try a 12 C, 4 pellets at a time as needed to quiet the itch and your racing brain.

I sleep with one under my pillow and completely freak out when I can't find it. No. Really.

I give this remedy 10 out of 10 points. If you see me this week ask me where it is. I promise it's in my pocket. Because I can't cope without it.

Jewelweed Oil or Salve

Jewelweed is the herbal antidote to poison ivy. Where you find one growing you often find the other, and the juicy, tender leaves and stem of jewelweed can both help prevent a rash and help sooth one you already have.

Harvest jewelweed (look along creeks and streams), bruise the leaves, and rub gently onto your rash. Instant aaaaahhh! Or immerse the plant in olive oil to cover, warm gently, and allow to steep for 24 hours or more.

Apply oil to rash as needed to quiet the itch.

I like this. I like it a lot. 6.5 out of 10.

Da Balm

Full disclosure: I make and sell Da Balm. You know that already. But despite my bias of devotion and love for this herbal salve, I think you'll find it's tops - as I do - for red, itchy rashes.

So now that I have poison ivy for the first time since I started making Da Balm it was the first remedy I had to try. Along with the other natural treatments listed here I've been applying Da Balm daily and finding comfort in the chickweed, burdock, and calendula infusion I base the salve on.

While it doesn't get rid of the itch completely, it's helping! I keep one in my back pocket when I'm out and about.

I give it a 5 out of 10 for quieting the itch, 6 out of 10 after I mixed in a few drops of peppermint EO.

Baking Soda

 A paste of baking soda has been the greatest comfort I have found on the days the rash is raging and the itch is making me insane.

Make a paste of baking soda and water, and gently pat onto your rash. The soothing comes fast! Ho. ly. Cow.

It's a bit of a mess though, and not at all suitable for when you're out and about.

I was desperate enough for the comfort of baking soda that I cut off a chunk of my baking soda-based deodorant and combined it with a little Da Balm to soften it. It was good comfort all day, but was still a little gritty for my liking.

I give baking soda paste a 9 out of 10 for quieting the itch, but a 1 out of 10 for the epic mess it causes.

Calamine Lotion

The gutter over-the-counter version of this that I found in the back of our medicine cabinet is another weapon in my PI arsenal. As I looked over the ingredients I kept thinking, "I could surely make a better version of this..."

And it turns out you can! Here is a brilliant formula for all of us to make. Yes, please!

I give even my skanky OTC version a 7 out of 10 for quieting the itch and a 4 out of 10 for being an ugly mess all over my bathroom. And now I need to mop.

Apple Cider Vinegar

The theory goes that you soak a thin cotton towel in apple cider vinegar and drape it over your poison ivy rash. The ACV is supposed to help draw toxins from your rash as well as cool the skin and soothe the itch.

Okay. Nice theory.

I tried this method and while everyone's body is different, it didn't work for me. It actually burned a bit which made me never want to try it again.

And as Sage put it, "WHAT is that horrible smell? Oh. Of course. Vinegar again."

0 out of 10. It sucked.

(But who knows. It might work for you!)

Lavender Essential Oil

If you find yourself being driven wild with the itching, calm your mind with lavender EO. I have been reaching for my Relaxing Essential Oil blend constantly during the past three days.

Thank goodness for this.

I actually rubbed it on my face yesterday trying to calm myself down. Yeah, I'm that girl.

10 out of 10 for keeping me sane. Good for everyone in my life. For reals.

Baby Wipe Juice

As I researched the best way to quiet the itch and heal the rash of PI I noticed a pattern. Many of the remedies I had already combined in my Baby Wipe Juice concentrate. Like witch hazel, calendula infusion, aloe juice, and soothing essential oils. So I tried it on a whim/in a moment of I'm-going-insane-with-this-horrific-rash.

And... it worked. Like magic.

Soothing, cooling, itch-quieting. Yes, yes, and yes. Is all the itch gone? No. Is most of it? Hell yes.

I used it undiluted, but diluted would probably be a good idea.

Most amazing? How long this remedy is lasting. I applied it two hours ago and only just no needed to reapply. Winning!

9 out of 10. Feels like magic.

Aloe and/or witch hazel with peppermint EO

I didn't try either of these solo since I only had my After Sun Aloe and Witch Hazel spray on hand. But combined? It was cooling, soothing, and just what I needed to take of the itchy edge while out and about.

6 out of 10. Slower to start with the comfort, but super long-lasting on the cooling and itch-quieting fronts. Thankful for this experiment right now.

Edited to add: when my PI got very, very bad I slept with this under my pillow. It rose to a 8 out of 10, especially after the rash was mostly gone but I had the post itch-itch of healing.

Here is how I made it:

• 2 parts witch hazel extract
• 1 part aloe juice
• a few drops of peppermint EO

Put in a spray bottle and use as needed.

 

Other helpful Tips

Wrap it up

Keep your rash completely covered at night. Otherwise you'll scratch the h**l out of it in your sleep and really regret it.

Tuck a bottle of Rhus Tox under your pillow while you're at it. No, really. Do it now.

Don't leave home without it

Keep your remedies with you! Don't leave home without your homeopathic remedy or your Baby Wipe Juice - whatever is working magic on your rash.

Vitamin C?

When I shared last night that I'm struggling with poison ivy a blog reader suggested I try a vitamin C protocol. Essentially high-dose vitamin c to reduce swelling, oozing, and itching. I'm trying it, but it's too soon to know how well it's working. (Thanks, Elizabeth!)

Soaking with pink salt, black tea, baking soda, or oatmeal

Friends have recommended these three for soaking the rash in. I have not tried them yet, but intuitively all sound like they would be incredibly soothing.

And no, the rash is not contagious

Contrary to belief when I was a kid, you can't catch the rash from someone else's rash. Once the oil has been washed off you won't be sharing with your friends. Fear not.

Support your immune system

I'm taking elderberry and echinacea tincture twice a day (1 tsp of each) to help boost my immune system to speed healing.

Don't mess around

If you are seeing signs of infection or have a truly awful case, get in to see your doctor. And soon. PI takes a toll on your body and can cause serious infections if not treated properly. Don't hesitate going in for some off-the-natural-list help.

 

 

And with that, we're healing.

Here's hoping you never need this advice. Ever, ever, ever.

But if you do? I'm here for ya.

 

 

Summer Solstice

Summer has officially arrived here in the northern hemisphere. And though spring will always be my one true love, I'm digging into summer with everything I've got.

I can learn to love summer! I'm certain.

Especially since this year I don't have Lyme disease - my usual way to celebrate the Solstice. It's the first summer I've felt strong since we moved to the farm. For that I am so grateful.

So yes to summer! Camping, foraging, and icy dips in the creek are at the top of my list.

 

I realized (as I was soaked through by the rain this morning) that almost every year Summer Solstice arrives dressed in storm clouds. She comes in with a dramatic lightening show and almost always a flash flood that rises our creek past its banks, year after year.

Summer. (crash!) Is. (boom!) Here. (splash!)

This year was no exception.

A flash flood raced down our valley today at 8 am, scaring the goats and cutting deep fissures in our driveway with rushing water. I was thankful for the hay mulch in the garden, holding our black soil in place.

After morning chores the kids and I tromped in the downpour out to the creek to see how high the water had risen. We checked the beaver dam, too, to see if it was engineered well enough for such rains. It was. Smart beavers.

Standing beside the creek I saw jewelweed through my rain-spattered glassed and gathered a great handful for a poison ivy rash I managed to pick up over the weekend, then watched as the storm wound down. Laughing and chatting we splashed our way home to breakfast.

And despite my itching arm my heart was full to overflowing.

Summer! Yes. I think it's growing on me.

 

Our weekend was full to overflowing as well. With love, community, celebration, and healing of many sorts.

There was the epic celebratory trifecta of Pete's birthday, Father's Day, and the Summer Solstice yesterday, plus a commitment ceremony with friends on Saturday.

Their wedding potluck - so rich with inspiring and authentic people and meaningful conversations - was also where we had the pleasure of sampling such wild-foraged and hunted treats as oysters, smelt, and beaver; wild mushrooms, wild greens, and wild rice. Amazing.

The earth - and this community - is abundant indeed.

And the best gift of all this weekend was seeing our sick goat (who was at death's door on Friday) exuberantly gallop toward me to say good morning and beg for treats on Sunday.

Small miracles and great blessings.

 

Happy Summer Solstice my friends. I hope you are feeling the summer magic, too.

 

 

Triage: yes to shortcake, no to laundry

Last night we moved the goats to a new pasture. They promptly got into a can of chicken feed I had foolishly neglected to move, spinning us into an evening devoted to researching bloat, enterotoxemia and how to deal with both.

We were in and out of the house all night giving remedies, massaging rumens, and leading them on burpy walks up and down the driveway.

Good times.

This morning everyone seems fine, thank goodness. Our house on the other hands looks like a tornado hit.

And I realized - that in homesteading or parenting or small business or simply existing - life is triage.

Every time we say yes to something we say no to something else.

 

Yes to goat research, no to housekeeping.

 

Earlier this week I said yes to strawberry picking and shortcake making and no to laundry and a proper dinner.

June berries won't last. And the laundry will never really be done (unless everyone is naked).

And despite waking to four baskets of laundry to fold, I'm certain I made the right choice.

 

Yesterday Pete returned home from a week away. It was a long week involving me dosing remedies to a sick goat when he left, a sick cat when he returned, and juggling earaches and tummy aches and sore throats of the human sort on and off throughout his absence.

So much triage.

The house and farm were disastrous, and there was a lot of catching up to do.

I could see his to-do list reflected in his eyes when Lupine ran to him and asked, "Will you jump with me on the trampoline?"

 

He paused, the put down his shovel and said a tentative yes. Yes to jumping, no to digging.

Just for a moment.

 

Triage.

 

And after they jumped for a few minutes her cup was full of Papa, his heart was full of laughter, and it was time to say yes to chores - and no to play - once more.

 

As for me, I'm gettting caught up on the laundry and on emails today. Tomorrow the kitchen may or may not get a scrubbing. But I'll also be putting down my work for a walk to the creek at dusk, to knit a row, to play a game, or simply listen to what my family has to say.

 

Triage.

This, not this.

One yes, one no.

 

What will you say yes to today?

 

 

 

 

For when you lose it (because you'll lose it)

I had a hard day.

She brought me flowers.

Because she always sees my heart, even when I lose my cool.

I hugged her close and thanked her and said, "So this means you still want to keep me for your mama, huh?"

She giggled at the absurdity of my joke.

And it was a joke but one with a shadow of truth around it.

I forgive others more quickly than I do myself.

 

If my children have a hard day I look for the need. I love. I nurture. I dig deep for patience, compassion, and empathy.

If I have a hard day I blame myself for not being enough.

Good enough, patient enough, loving enough.

 

It's no surprise that this strategy is not helping.

 

The truth is we all falter.

When our cup is dry, our days are long, or our patience is thin.

We stumble. We come undone.

And that doesn't make you a bad mother. It makes you a mother who needs care.

Sometimes then only one there to give you that care is you.

 

Because when you yell or blame or guilt or snap it isn't your truth.

It's not your path.

It's your heart's way of calling for change.

A change in perspective, a change in rhythm, a change in priorities - a change in something.

It's time you start answering the call.

 

As for me on my angry-hangry-grouchy day, I made a choice.

I slowed down. I ate better. I went to bed early. I turned inward, breathing deep.

And hardest of all, I set to work on forgiveness.

When the same triggers came up the next day I had more grace.

I breathed, spoke my needs, and reached for love.

I found humor, patience, and joy.

Again.

Thank goodness.

 

So the next time you start to unravel know that you are not alone.

There are countless others out there, fighting this hard fight.

Go inward. Accept. Regroup.

And be mindful.

And when you lose it (because you'll lose it), forgive, forgive, forgive.

Yourself.

Then as you reconnect and apologize for your mistakes, begin the hard work of doing better tomorrow.

 

And know that even in your unraveling you are the greatest teacher your child could ever have.

Because in your imperfection you have come to teach love, forgiveness, and second chances.

By how you treat yourself.

 

Now get out there and be awesome.

In your messy, imperfect, and beautiful way.

And always, always love. You.

Because even on your hardest day you are worthy of that.

 

Love,
Rachel

 

Originally posted in September, 2014

No one died

There are days on our farm that end with an joyous cry of, "No one died!"

 No chicks, no sheep, no tomatoes. All still accounted for and more or less happy/healthy by sundown.

 

Yesterday - beginning with an ER vet visit for our cat and ending with herbal remedies for my anemic goat - was one such day.

Sprinkle in me tweaking my back giving said goat said herbal remedy but still managing to deliver the goods - add some natural earache care for one kid and tummy ache-soothing for the other -and we rocked this keeping everyone alive gig.

Though, perhaps, just barely.

 

Yes, it's been an interesting week. I was flying solo with farm and family and work while Pete was out of town. And having him gone for a few days really helped me appreciate just how much he does around here.

Whoa.

Yes, there's the emotional stuff. Of course. But these days there's a whole lot of practical stuff, too.

I had to work up a chore matrix on a bit sheet of paper so nothing slipped off my radar and resulted in, well, death. Sheep, goats, meat chickens, laying hens, laying chicks, quail, ducks, garden, etc. etc.

It's a lot to keep track of.

So while "distance makes the heart grow fonder" for lots of sloppy emotional reasons, distance also sheds light on just how much energy it takes to keep our life chugging along and just how much I need that other grown-up by my side.

It's a lot to juggle with only one adult-sized set of hands.

For those of you who do this parenting or house-keeping or homesteading gig solo everyday: I'm in awe of your tenacity and spirit. 

You get more done in a day than some of us get done in a week.

Truly. You have much you could teach me.

 

So each night during Pete's absence, despite feeling a bit rung-out at the end of the day, the kids and I put our boots on and headed down to the creek bottom to check on the sheep.

The clock whispered that it was time to be getting ready for bed, but the sheep had different ideas.

We refilled their water and did a quick headcount to make sure everyone is accounted for. 

And then? 

And then, no matter how tired we were (read: I was) the creek called us in. 

We walked the trail through the darkening forest and listened to the night birds calling; we sat in silence beside the creek, entranced by her forever song. We watched the sky darken as the fireflies awakened from their day-long sleep. 

 

And then we walked home, locked in the chickens, and headed for the house.

As we fell asleep I couldn't help but be full of gratitude. For Pete coming home soon, for my favorite pillow, for triumphing over a rocky day, for the novelty of clean sheets.

And yes, for the simple truth that - today anyway - no one died.

And for that I am so thankful.

 

No one died!

I think that means we're winning.