Snow days!

Around here snow is a novelty. When it is in the forecast people go crazy. The stores have people on the run to stock up on food and supplies. Sleds which are rarely in stock go out of stock completely. Those who are more creative or just cheap use what they have on hand to make sleds. Like pizza pans, cardboard boxes, etc. Too, when you do not have all the proper winter attire wool socks work well for gloves. I even managed to stuff Cletus who I secretly think is a hobbit into a size 12 month snow suit. Desperate times call for desperate measures:') So with all the boys dressed somehow to resemble marshmellows of varying colors, we all have had some fun in the snow.

Snowy the proud mama of seven puppies!

Snowy our dog also decided to birth eight puppies two days ago when the snow started in earnest. Seven of the puppies are thriving and keeping Snowy plenty busy and occupied.

All seven puppies are doing well.

Franz commented yesterday that our house is too small. This is something that Clement stated when we first moved here. He liked the place but the house was too small. Franz being home and trying to work with the boys and me around has pushed his patience with the high noise level. Our house is not a silent one and it is hard to find a quiet spot. I have said I like a small house because it is less to clean. Also, it can be cozy. But in truth there are times I too wish we had a bit more space. I am thankful though for our cute house and can dream of someday expanding. For now instead we just throw the kids outside, and right now we can throw them in the snow:')

Notice the gun in the hand of our snowman:')

When you don't have a hill, you build a snow slide.

A cardboard box will suffice in the stead of sled.

Lucia our baby goat that we retained knows how to keep warm.

Let's play in the snow!

Chrysogonus doing tummy time on his new quilt from Great Grandma and Grandpa Crawford.

Isn't he a cutie!

We are holding down the fort at Kleinshire. Having a jolly old time getting cold and wet in the snow. Making hot cocoa, cookies and way too many sweets. Which in turn, turns my boys into monsters who wildly race around our small house shouting at the top of their lungs as they wrestle each other and give piggy back rides and end up falling and getting bumps.  Even with the bumps and bruise, so far we have all survived.  

In defense of home birth

The Sunday before last, a crime occurred at our home. We didn't call the police or file a report of any kind. Nothing was stolen, and nobody was hurt. There was no burglary, no arson, no bodily assault, no disorderly conduct of any kind. In fact, though we didn't ourselves commit the crime, we did everything in our power to aid and abet it, going so far as to pay thousands of dollars for it to occur.

"What was this crime?" you might be asking.

A midwife, duly trained, tested, and certified, with years of experience, safely, calmly and expertly delivered our baby boy with no complications whatsoever in the congenial surroundings of our own home.

"A crime?" you might exclaim, incredulous.

We wouldn't have thought so either, at least we wouldn't have thought so before we moved to North Carolina a year and a half ago.

Our introduction to home birth came during our time in Texas. When we found out that Rosemary was pregnant with Clement, our second child, one of my graduate school classmates referred us their midwife, Molly Germash, an expert midwife who operates her own stand-alone facility, Hearts Desire Midwifery.

We ended up working with Molly's daughter, Emily, who was apprenticing with her mother at the time. Clement was born not at home--we weren't quite ready for that yet--but at the Hearts Desire stand-alone facility in rural Peaster, Texas. Clement's birth was not an easy one for Rosemary, and we were deeply impressed by the attention and care that Emily and Molly lavished upon Rosemary at every step, from their patience as Rosemary labored for nearly two days to the attention she required after Clement's birth due to bleeding complications.

When Rosemary was pregnant with Cletus, our third, there was no doubt in our mind that we wanted to work with a midwife again. Though we're appreciative of the expert care Rosemary received giving birth to Cyprian, our first, in a Wisconsin hospital, there were many things that stood out to us in working with an independent midwife. First, there wasn't the pushiness that we experienced with Cyprian's hospital birth. Nobody was in a hurry at the midwife's facility, and things occurred naturally, and at a pace Rosemary was comfortable with.

At the hospital, on the other hand, there had been numerous tests and procedures that separated mother from child and were simply expected, as if there were no choice or alternative. I remember in particular how they took Cyprian away, ostensibly for a photograph, and never brought him back. I had to go and search the baby out in the nursery, and the nurses seemed incredulous that we wanted him back right away. We have that nursery photo, in fact. Cyprian does not look like a happy baby!

Another big difference with Hearts Desire was the total absence of the clinical, scrubbed atmosphere of a hospital. The Peaster facility has a few well appointed bedrooms and a kitchen. The front office doubles as a living room and child's play area. I am writing this, of course, in the context of the recent outbreak of hospital-contracted, antibiotic-resistant superbugs. For all the efforts at disinfection, hospitals are not healthy places. Yes, hospitals are necessary things. But while we've been conditioned for the last half-century to consider birth one of the times it's necessary to be at the hospital, there's nothing about a normal, uncomplicated birth that necessitates on-site doctors and clinicians. That's not to say that many women shouldn't give birth in a hospital. There are many, many situations that require possible medical intervention. But for a healthy woman thoroughly vetted for possible complications, there is no reason the birth must be at a hospital.

Back in Texas, as Rosemary and I discussed Cletus's birth with each other and then with Emily Germash, by then a Certified Public Midwife, we decided to try home birth. What Rosemary liked best about the stand-alone midwife facility was its home-like atmosphere. It helped her relax, and it made birth seem less clinical and more, well, normal. Home birth would be everything the stand-alone facility was--but better, because it was our home.

By far, Cletus's birth was the easiest, least complicated of Rosemary's first three. Emily showed up quickly, and Rosemary delivered the baby in our own bed. I made her a nice breakfast of bacon and eggs in our own kitchen, and the two older boys came home from a friend's house nearby to greet their new sibling. Not that childbirth is ever easy--I'd get in trouble as a guy implying such--but I think Rosemary is okay with me describing our first home birth as significantly less stressful, less of an illness requiring medical intervention, and more like what it truly is supposed to be: the miracle of welcoming new life into our young family.

So, nine months ago, when we found out that Rosemary was pregnant with Chrysogonus, there was no doubt in our mind that we would again be having a home birth. To our great astonishment, however, we discovered that home birth is practically illegal here in North Carolina. Not illegal, let me emphasize, but practically illegal.

North Carolina, it turns out, is one of 12 states where it is currently illegal to practice midwifery outside of a hospital-affiliated facility unless the midwife is also trained as a nurse. That alone is a significant obstruction, since most states convalidate the national licenses of Certified Practical Midwives, recognizing them as medical practitioners. But until recently, home birth was at least possible since Certified Nurse Midwives were permitted to operate out of stand-alone facilities, even offering home birth as an option, so long as they were under the supervision of a doctor. In the most recent development, however, most stand-alone facilities in the state have been forced to close because the state now requires the doctors to carry medical malpractice insurance for the nurses they supervise. What this means, in short, is that now it's financially impossible for even CNMs to practice midwifery legally outside of one of the major hospital chain-affiliated facilities.

Rosemary and I certainly have nothing against the good work done by the hospital-affiliated facilities any more than we do against the regular hospital neonatal unit where Cyprian was born. But what we were looking for, specifically, was to replicate our experience of home birth in Texas. Again, we have nothing against those who want to have their babies in hospitals or hospital-affiliated facilities, but we were shocked to find that these were the only possible legal options in our newly adopted state.

And why? The medical research certainly doesn't back any such curtailing of birthing options. A 2005 study published in the highly influential British Medical Journal indicated that planned home birth for low risk women utilizing Certified Public Midwives--not even Certified Nurse Midwives, note, but CPMs--was associated with a rate of infant mortality similar to that of hospital births. In other words, it is statistically no more dangerous for a low-risk woman to give birth at home than it is for her to give birth at a hospital. In Great Britain, the government, noting a higher incidence of surgical intervention and a corresponding higher risk of infection, is actually urging low-risk women to consider home birth.

Contrast Great Britain with North Carolina, where home birth is practically illegal.

Related to this frustrating situation, there is a thoroughly interesting article on the website ModernMom.com that calls childbirth in the United States a "human rights failure." The author notes that maternal mortality rates in the U.S. have nearly doubled from 1990 to 2008, while the collective rate in most other countries has fallen by more than 30%. For me, the most compelling statistic is the $86 billion spent on childbirth annually in America--more than on any other area of medicine. I don't think I'm going out on too much of a limb to wager that part of the orientation toward medical intervention in a hospital setting is as much profit-driven as it is concern for the health and well-being of the mother and her newborn child. I would also wager that it's in the best financial interests of the big hospital systems here in North Carolina to drive birthing traffic to their facilities.

That's the situation in a nutshell. So, what's a couple expecting a child to do? The Christian tradition's maxim in a situation like this--from St. Augustine, repeated by St. Thomas Aquinas--is lex iniusta non est lex, an unjust law is no law at all. In short, Rosemary and I felt no compunction in flouting the suspect statutes, or at least in paying for their flouting and aiding and abetting it--and, as this current blog post attests, in telling the world that we've done so. In fact, we're proud to be part of an underground movement here in North Carolina, as written about in this article in a Charlotte-area newspaper.

You can read about the birth of Chrysogonus, our fourth child, at our home here in North Carolina in this earlier blog post. Rosemary shared her adventurous take on the day of the birth as well. Everything went smoothly, and we were very satisfied with the experience, and we're grateful for the expert assistance that our veteran North Carolina midwife and her assistant provided throughout the pregnancy, during the birth itself, and now with postpartum care. Obviously we're not publishing the name of our midwife, but do let us--especially Rosemary--know privately if home birth is something you're considering and if you need any advice.

Chrysogonus John's baptism

In John's Gospel, in response to Jesus's statement that man must be born again to see eternal life, Nicodemus asks with insensible literalness, "How can a man be born when he is old? He cannot enter into his mother's womb a second time and be born, can he?"

With due respect to Nicodemus, last Sunday, precisely a week after Chrysogonus John's first birth, we celebrated his second birth, his birth into faith, at St. Catherine of Siena Parish in Wake Forest. The baptismal rite began with our pastor, Father Phil Tighe, asking,

"Chrysogonus John, what are you asking of God's Church?"

Chris and Elimika, Chrysogonus's godparents, who held him throughout the baptism and spoke on his behalf, responded,

"Faith."

Father Tighe continued,

"What does faith hold out to you?"

They replied,

"Eternal life."

The baptismal rite opened in the narthex of the church, showing that Chrysogonus John had not yet been welcomed into the community of believers. Father Tighe breathed upon Chrysogonus John three times in the form of a cross as he commanded Satan to give way to the Holy Spirit. He then signed the baby with the cross and placed exorcized salt upon his lips, urging him to maintain a life of uncorrupted wisdom in this corrupted world.

Though they're technically too young to be altar boys, Cyprian and Clement were tasked with holding the book for Fr. Tighe.

After a further exorcism, Father Tighe placed his stole over Chrysogonus John, granting him entrance into the sanctuary of the church. He then led Chris and Elimika, together with Chrysogonus, in procession to the baptismal font as the three of them recited the Apostle's Creed and the Lord's Prayer. The rest of us--Rosemary's parents and sister, friends from the parish, and students and colleagues from St. Thomas More Academy--followed behind in procession up the main isle.

Fr.Tighe places his stole over Chrysogonus John, granting him entrance into the church.

At the baptismal font, Father Tighe performed a final exorcism and touched his spittle to Chrysogonus John's ears and nostrils, recalling Christ's healing of the deaf and the mute by similar means as he himself proceeded to heal our new baby of the spiritual insensibility incurred through original sin. On Chrysogonus John's behalf, the godparents renounced Satan, his works, and his pomps. Father Tighe then anointed him on the breast and between the shoulders with the oil of catechumens, the blessed oil signifying the spiritual combat of living as a Christian in the midst of a fallen world. 

Chrysogonus John is anointed with the oil of catechumens.

Then Father Tighe changed his purple stole for a white one as the period of baptismal preparation gave way to the baptism itself. The changing of color is particularly important since white is the color of the Resurrection, with baptism in the early Church occurring at the Easter Vigil as the Lenten liturgical color of violet gives way to Easter white. Then followed the profession of faith, with Chris and Elimika again speaking on behalf of their godson, and, finally, the baptism itself in Latin with the three-fold pouring of water:

"Chrysogone Johannes, ego te baptizo in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

Fr. Tighe pours water over Chrysogonus John's head as he pronounces the baptismal formula.

Following the baptism itself, Chrysogonus John was anointed again, this second time on the crown of his head with the sacred chrism as a symbol of his sharing in Christ's three-fold office of priest, prophet, and king. He will be anointed with this same sacred chrism, but on the forehead, when he receives the sacrament of confirmation. Chrysogonus John also received his lit baptismal candle and a white garment, which he was urged to keep spotless throughout his Christian life.

Fr. Tighe lights Chrysogonus John's baptismal candle from the Easter candle.

Following the baptism, Rosemary was "churched." This brief ritual finds its roots in a traditional Jewish "purification" following childbirth that even Mary underwent in obedience to the law when she presented the Child Jesus at the Temple. Father Tighe led Rosemary to the altar while reciting Mary's Magnificat, her words of praise following the Annunciation. Rosemary held a lit candle and received a special blessing.

Rosemary is churched following Chrysogonus John's baptism.

We have many people to thank following the baptism, first and foremost Chrysogonus John's godparents, Chris and Elimika. Chris has been my good friend since high school, and I was honored last October to be the "best man" when he wed his beautiful bride, Elimika. Rosemary and I are honored, in turn, to have them as godparents for our fourth child. While Chris and Elimika were a little intimidated at the complexity of the ceremony, they did great.

Chris and Elimika with Chrysogonus John...

Special thanks, too, to Father Tighe, our pastor at St. Catherine's, who was willing to conduct the baptism according to the older form. Though he has been celebrating a weekly Traditional Latin Mass for the parish for a few years now, this was his first "extraordinary form" baptism. He and I worked through it together on Friday afternoon, especially Chrysogonus John's name in the various declensions in which it appears in the rite (the endings of nouns change in Latin depending on their grammatical function in a sentence). Father Tighe did a great job, and we're deeply grateful. It meant a lot to be able to have the baptism at our own parish, and at the hands of our own parish priest.

Fr. Tighe with newly baptized Chrysogonus John

Fr. Tighe, the godparents, and the newly expanded Klein family.

We are also grateful to Rosemary's parents and youngest sister, Rebecca, who traveled from Wisconsin to help out at the time of Chrysogonus's birth. They were an immense help, especially as I returned to teaching just a few days after the birth. We're happy they were able to stay long enough to witness the baptism and even, staying as long as they did, make it safely back home through the mountains during the snow storm.

The Klein/Korish family

A big 'thank you,' finally, to everybody who came to St. Catherine's to witness the baptism. I talked it up to my freshman Latin and junior philosophy students and was edified to see so many of them present on Sunday, together with colleagues and many of our friends from the parish. 'Thank you,' finally, to all my colleagues and our friends who are bringing us meals and helping in other ways. 

A group picture following the baptism.

Big brother Cletus walking around in his new 'big boy' shoes.

Thanks, too, to owner of Lumpy's in downtown Wake Forest, who let us bring a cake and occupy his ice cream parlor for an hour or more as we celebrated.

Some of junior philosophy students helping to cut and distribute cake at Lumpy's.

Hanging out at Lumpy's.

Cletus pretty much captured our collective sentiments on Sunday evening when we finally got home.

A Sunday Full of Surprises!

The morning started out like most had for the past two weeks. I woke up feeling great, looked down and saw my huge pregnant belly. And thought to myself, am I going to be pregnant forever? I have always been early with giving birth. So, it was a new feeling of seeing my due date come and go. I had in the last two weeks several times thought maybe, "this would be the day." I would have some really good contractions, nothing too painful but definitely noticeable for a  couple of hours. Then when I would go to bed I would eventually settle and fall into a deep and restful sleep. This is also is a new experience for me. I have always been prone to insomnia especially at the end of pregnancy. So, I really am thankful that this pregnancy has been so wonderful in that I have enjoyed good health and vitality.

So after breakfast we discussed if I should go to mass. I was torn, I was feeling some pressure and thinking maybe again that it could be "today" but then I had thought so many other times. I finally made the decision to stay and everyone else went to mass, including Franz who had his phone on just in case I would need him to rush back. Two vehicles were taken so that Franz would be able to rush back and not leave anyone stranded.

 I took the opportunity to rest. Before everyone was due back from Church I decided to get up and make some lunch for all. I looked out my window over the kitchen sink and saw the horses happily grazing in the goat pasture. Now this wouldn't normally be bad, but with tiny little baby goat kiddos the horses could easily and accidentally crush a baby. I was still in my nightgown. My maternal instinct kicked in and I raced out in rubber boots. As I ran waddled through the barn I snatched up the lunge whip. I got to the pasture and realized that two of the mama goats with their kiddos were in the horse pasture. Not only that, but one of the mamas was flirting with our bucks through the fence. Now I was exasperated, my temper was flaring. I started herding the goats who decided to be annoying about going back in their own pasture. To make it more fun the barn yard is a soupy mud mess, so I was having a hard time keeping my balance. Finally I got the whole bunch into their holding pen off the goat stall.

Next I turned to the horses who immediately turned tail and started racing around the front pasture. I was muttering not very nice pleasant threats of what I was going to do to the animals. I decided to lunge the horses, which meant that I had to run waddle around the pasture to keep them from stopping. They loved it, me not at all, especially when I had a couple different cars slow down to watch. I am sure I gave a great spectacle. Remember I am hugely pregnant in a nightgown with muddy boots a long lunge whip and huffily chasing after two horses. Finally the horses had enough and sweetly trotted into their pen. I closed the gate, which has a broken lock. The lock catches but if worked at it can be opened. I secured the gate as best I could. Of course as soon as I was out of the pen. I saw Stella sneakily working her lips over the lock. I hollered at her that if she dared opened that gate she would regret it.

The Church crew came home and I had leftovers out for lunch. I animatedly shared my adventure while we all ate. Cletus was down for a nap. The day was absolutely beautiful bright sunshine, gentle breeze. We left the door to the screen porch and house open because it was so warm. Everyone was outside. I had people coming around 2 to look at the goat kiddos. So I decided to trim the mama goats hooves. The people arrived and we spent a deal of time looking at the goats and discussing goats. A deal was made and agreed upon by both parties. Cletus meanwhile woke up and we spent the afternoon outside playing in the yard and watching animals.

Franz and I decided we should go for a walk to see if we could get me to go into labor. It was late afternoon. So while my parents and sister stayed in the yard to watch the boys, Franz and I headed down a dirt road that runs by the church next to our property. We were curious because we knew people lived down the road but it is more private. As we walked we passed a man doing some work outside. He stopped us and told us that there were some dogs and that we might want to take a stick just in case a dog was aggressive. He also gave us the low down on the all those who live back on the road. It is two different family names that have extended family.

After our chatting for a bit we met the man who lives farther back and owns most of the property back there. We asked his permission if we could walk back farther to the creek. He very quickly told us to go ahead. So we then continued and followed a path into the woods that led us to a large swampy creek. It was very pretty and peaceful. As we walked back the man who gave us permission to walk back on the property waved us over to his place and invited us in to meet his wife. we had a lovely chat, then proceeded to head home.

Once home it was starting to get late so everyone started making supper. I decided to let everyone else make the meal while rolled and bounced around on my exercise ball. At supper time I was starting to not feel like eating much so I took a couple of nibbles of food. Since it was getting late we immediately after supper got all the boys ready for bed. Once that was done we all trooped to the boys room to pray our family rosary around 8 pm. I took the exercise ball and sat on it the whole time. I was definitely starting to have some strong contractions with some pain. After we finished praying Franz and I tucked the boys in with hugs, kisses, and blessings.

I went out to the living room, again taking my exercise ball to sit on. Franz asked me if he was going to school in the morning. I grumpily stated that I didn't know. For I was tired of thinking maybe tonight would be the night. But pretty quickly after I made that remark I told him that no he was not going to school. So Franz started quickly working on lesson plans for others to take over his classes the next day. I sat on a pad on the couch and tried to watch a show about restoring antiques with my Dad this was 9:30ish. I sent off a text to my midwife and said I was having strong painful contractions. She immediately replied that she was putting her shoes on. I replied ok see you soon.

I am warning you the last paragraph is about laboring. So, if you do not want those details, stop reading.

My midwife got here around 10. I was lying down in our bed trying to work my way through the painful contractions that were lasting over a minute. The midwife went right to work setting up, meanwhile I had Franz putting pressure on my lower back trying to ease my back labor. I had to go the bathroom and went it was so uncomfortable walking while contracting. Once back in our room I had Franz get me my exercise ball and used it to lean on and punch when a contraction hit. I may not have a very long labor but to me it is intense and I was saying to Franz I can't do this. Then I would rally myself and say okay I know I can do this. I had to go to the bathroom again. I started to go but felt that pressure to push so I jumped up and tried to rush back as fast as I could to our bedroom. I wanted Franz behind me to lean back on as I climbed into bed. The midwife said she could check me to see where I was at and possibly break my water. I said yes please do! So I was checked and I was 10 cm dilated. The only thing holding me back was that my water had not broken. So I told her to break it. She did and immediately I felt relief from the awful pressure that had built up. The midwife told Franz that that he better quickly get up and catch the baby. I was pushing and it was only two minutes or so after the water breaking that Chrysogonus was born. Such a relief and blessing.

Announcing the Arrival of Chrysogonus John

Rosemary and I are pleased to announce the birth of our fourth son, Chrysogonus John, who was born last night at 10:42 p.m. He weighed in at nine pounds-even and measured a lengthy twenty-one inches. He's hale and hearty, with a loud voice and a strong appetite. By clicking here you can read about St. Chrysogonus, whose name, together with those of Saints Cyprian, Clement, and Cletus, is mentioned in the Roman Canon.

Rosemary has promised to write a detailed blog post when she's more fully recovered, but I wanted to get a few pictures out there for family and friends. So, here's a quick selection, together with a few details...

When Rosemary started experiencing more intense, regular contractions in the early evening, she decided to call the midwife. Just like with Cletus, our fourth was born relatively quickly. The midwife arrived shortly after ten o'clock, and Chrysogonus made his appearance within the hour.

Rosemary had the baby up to her chest right away after I caught him and announced proudly, "It's a boy!" Sorry to everybody in the baby pool who guessed that it would be girl, but surely you must have known!

Chrysogonus nursed pretty quickly after birth and again in the early morning hours. He already had a double chin and rolls upon birth and my guess is he'll be a big baby.

Here I am cutting the cord. I think Rosemary looks a little concerned...

Nine pounds on the dot...

Here our midwife is checking Chrysogonus's vitals and taking his other measurements. He has ten fingers and ten toes... and everything else a baby is supposed to have. A big thank you to our mid-wife and her assistant for their expert attention throughout the pregnancy and especially last night.

The first child to come in the room was actually Cletus, whose birthday it is today. He seems to think this is "his" baby, perhaps his birthday present. He's fascinated, in any case, and likes poking his baby brother. Clement came in the room shortly thereafter. He soon left to wake up Cyprian, who skeptically reminded Clement that surely a baby couldn't come that quickly. He was in for a surprise, and it was hard to get him to give others a turn holding the little boy.

Here's the happy biggest brother...

Grandma Korish is asking very nicely for a turn...

Even Aunt Rebecca got a turn holding Chrysogonus...

 For his part, Grandpa Korish was a no-show during the birthing process, resolutely staying put on the couch with the volume of the television turned up. However, he's been having a blast hanging out with the three older boys. To Cletus he's "Grampers." Here he the day before last at Pullen Park in Raleigh.

The boys love their "Aunt Becca" too...

Now the three oldest are with their Grandparents Korish and Rebecca at the Museum of Natural Science in Raleigh. I'd better wrap up this post, do some laundry, and bake two-year-old Cletus his birthday cake. Please pray for Rosemary and the baby as they continue to rest up.

More soon!

A buckling and doeling are still available!

As it turns out, the person who had reserved a buckling and a doeling was under the impression that Nigerians are pygmy-sized, and so we still have a buckling and a doeling available for sale. Last chance for the bottle-baby price. 

Check out our new Craigslist ad here!

Economics 101 with Cyprian

Yesterday we made a pretty major purchase, a 15-cubic foot chest freezer. We're anticipating needing a great deal more freezer space in the coming year. Rosemary's parents will help us fill up the space later this week when they arrive with a quarter of tasty, home-grown, grass-fed Wisconsin beef from their place. We'll also need more freezer space for garden produce, and especially if we decide to scale up our production of organic whole chicken. I figure that we'll have to scale up production, in any case, to pay for the freezer!

Frigidaire, 15-cubic foot chest freezer. $499 at D&A Appliance in Sims, N.C.
Not too bad a deal. There's one more in stock if anybody is interested!

I brought the boys with me to purchase the freezer, giving Rosemary a little bit of a breather. Yes, we'e still waiting for the new baby's arrival. On the way to the store, Cyprian asked how a freezer is made. I told him I didn't know many of the specifics, referring vaguely to insulation, coolant, and compressor motors. Ever the inquisitive child, Cyprian then suggested that we ask the people at the store; surely they'd know more, he reasoned, since they themselves make freezers. When I explained that retailers merely make available and sell at a marked up price the products they've acquired from factories, Cyprian was astonished and scandalized. His precise words were, "Well, then they're lazy!"

To start with, my apologies to anybody in the retail profession if I didn't adequately jump to your defense at this point . I was too amused by my recollection of the description of tradesmen in Plato's Republic. The description comes in the early part of the dialogue, where Socrates and his interlocutors are "building a city in speech" to discern better the nature of justice in human society. Socrates begins by imagining a city where everybody's basic needs are met. In this "city of utmost necessity," individuals practice a single art, contributing their expertise in this single art to the common good. (If you're interested, you can read my skeptical thoughts on this notion in the form of a graduate school essay by clicking here.) For his part, Socrates goes on to reason, and rightly so, that people wouldn't be satisfied with just their basic needs met, and his city therefore grows to include many more professions, including, apparently, big-box store sales associates. He says,

"There are men who... set themselves to this service; in rightly governed cities they are usually those whose bodies are weakest and are useless for doing any other job. They must stay there in the market and exchange things for money with those who need to sell something and exchange, for money again, with all those who need to buy something."

My apologies if I didn't defend sales associates as vigorously as I should have with this less-than-flattering image in my mind. Though I never worked retail, I did work a cash register at Taco Bell, and I imagine that's close enough since I was exchanging burritos for money. Maybe I'd better not tell Cyprian about my former employer!

Don't get me wrong, I'd hate to have to build the family van, or pretty much anything mechanical or electronic, from scratch. This is the grain of truth in Socrates' point that society as a whole progresses when individuals are permitted to specialize. If I had to build my own chest freezer, I'd probably never get around to raising the chickens to fill it. And my goodness, the commercial hatcheries do a great job hatching out broiler chicks. I don't know how I'd ever get big, fat Cornish Rock broilers to an age and a condition where they're laying fertilized eggs for me to put in a brooder. I'm a big fan of some degree of specialized knowledge, and I'm okay with handing off some tasks to others who can do them better than I.

But Cyprian's exclamation nonetheless elicits profound philosophical reflection. How does it change us to buy things ready-made rather than make them for ourselves? How much handing off of tasks to others who've become specialists is too much? Any follower of this blog has rightly discerned that we're interested in recovering some of this basic homesteading knowledge as a family. I strongly believe that I have a greater appreciation for the food that I eat, in any case, when I've been intimately involved at every step. I feel more connected to the earth when it actually matters to me whether it rains or when it's sunny. There's something humanizing and gratitude-inducing in ushering animals and crops through every stage of growth and maturity.

That said, thank God for chest freezer salesmen. I'm not quite ready to build a freezer for myself.

And happy birthday to Cyprian, who turned six years old on Thursday!

Birthday cake with the Flood family!