NZ Filbruns

Why are we living on the West Coast of New Zealand, instead of still in Canterbury? Well, strange as it may sound, the answer to this question can be traced back to a little pair of pink gumboots. Hold on, this tale is a bit convoluted, especially since I don’t want to use the names of our friends, to protect their privacy.

This story begins over two years ago. Our Little Miss had discovered the delights of wearing shoes at a young age, and when she discovered a pair of pink gumboots just about her size, which she could put on by herself and clump around the house in, she was delighted. Esther took a cute picture of her and posted it on the Facebook page of a friend who lived in the far south of this island, because this friend likes gumboots and she likes Little Miss.

Our friend in the south happens to have relatives in Texas who, a few years ago, joined a conservative Mennonite church. These relatives had a trip planned to New Zealand two years ago to visit relatives, and in preparation for the trip the lady was looking at the Facebook pages of some relatives she found that she had never met. One was our friend. The lady from Texas, in scrolling through that page, found the picture of Little Miss, and noticed Esther’s profile picture, in which she was wearing a covering. This caught the eye of Mrs. Texas, and she contacted our friend’s mother, her third cousin, asking about getting in contact with us. Our email address was passed along, and, two years ago last week, we got to meet some new friends, with whom we connected immediately (and incidentally, they made our long trip to America last year much more pleasant by meeting us at the Houston airport and taking us to a park for a picnic!).

Our new Texan friends, after spending a night with us, went on to Nelson, where they went to church with some of their other relatives. At church, they met a man who had recently come out of a Christian community over here on the West Coast. They knew we were interested in meeting people who came out of that community, so they got the man’s email address and passed it on to us. We emailed him, mentioning that we were planning to visit the community for a concert in a couple of days and asking if he had any contacts for us while we were in the area. He contacted friends of his and they emailed us.

We had actually heard of these people who emailed us, from mutual friends a bit farther south of here, and they had heard of us from the same friends. We were invited to spend the night with them after the concert, so we did. We fell in love with this wonderful family, and approximately a year later, Simon moved over here to work for them and do his apprenticeship.

So, in case you were wondering what took us to the West Coast, you can blame it on a little pair of pink gumboots! You never know what will happen when you post a sweet picture on Facebook. God can use anything.

Our big project for the past month and a half or so has been clearing the land across the road, as I described last week. A few other things have happened in that time, though.

Mr. Intellectual decided he wanted to build a canoe. He took these two sheets of roofing iron and hammered them flat, then riveted them together. He’s been working, when he has a free moment, on crimping down the edges so they won’t be sharp. I’m not sure how he’s planning to waterproof the seam and the ends.

Mr. Diligence needed a way to organize and protect his drill bits, so he built this box.

One evening, a few months after one of the burners on this hob quit working, I was standing beside it finishing cooking the meal. Suddenly I saw a flash of light out of the corner of my eye, and simultaneously felt pain in my eye. With no idea what had happened, I quickly got some cold water from the sink in case I had been burned, and was very relieved to find out I could still see from both eyes. After some investigation, I discovered that the light that turned on to show that a burner was turned on had blown and the cover hit my eyelid (thank God for quick reflexes that close your eye when something is coming toward it!). We had bought a gas hob from a friend after the electric one started going out, and I had been wondering how long it would be till it was installed—it happened the evening the stove blew up on me! I am thoroughly enjoying having a gas hob for the first time since we moved to New Zealand (it’s what I always had in Michigan). It is supplied by a 9 kg (20 lb) cylinder, so we can replace it ourselves. The first cylinder lasted about 3 weeks.

Mr. Diligence found this box one evening, and made “hair” on top of it. It took several tries, but I finally got a picture of him facing me in it.

For a month now, my boys have been working on clearing land across the road from us. We need grazing land for our cow, and were offered the use of a hillside that was covered with gorse and broom. The boys are enjoying the hard work, and making good progress.

The hillside between where our cow is in this picture, and the base of the pine trees, is where the boys are clearing. You can see a lot of gorse and broom in the middle of the picture. This was before they started.

The beginning of the job—they cleared a strip along the bottom of the hill first. They are hauling the brush to a “green dump” down the hill from town.

I went up the hill one sunny day to see what the boys are up to. Mr. Intellectual and Mr. Diligence are doing most of the work, spending an hour or two a day after school, before dark, working on cutting brush. On Saturdays, Gayle helps them haul it all away.

This is what I can see from the kitchen now. Can you see the difference? The boys are hoping that another 2-4 weeks will see the end of the project.

I’m grateful, not only for the land to use, but also for work for my energetic boys to do.

I was chosen recently to review Kids Cook Real Food, a cooking class for children starting with raw materials rather than processed foods. I haven’t felt like I did the best at getting my children to help prepare meals, so that’s why I was interested in it. Well, since getting started with this course, I have discovered that my boys know more than I thought they did, but it has been good for the younger ones, especially. The first several lessons have to do with using knives safely. The beginner class doesn’t use sharp knives, so even 2-3-year-olds can do this. Little Miss is delighted that she gets to help cut up food, and several times since we started the course she and Mr. Imagination have spent an hour at a time cutting things up for me. Today, they have been dicing potatoes and eggs for potato salad, and now they are dicing some mushrooms for tonight. They have great fun and it makes them feel good to be doing real work! I bought a crinkle cutter just for this project; Little Miss loves it. See how focused they are on their job? I’ve been surprised by how well they can cut things up, and I appreciate the safety tips we have gotten from the videos we’ve been watching. (This post isn’t my review; I may or may not do a review here. I just wanted to show Grandma what the little people are doing today.)

Here are the rest of my pictures from May. The little boys built this castle in the sandbox one day. Mr. Sweetie found his Ecuadoran flag (from Let’s Go Geography) and flew it from the top turret.

One Tuesday evening near the beginning of May, a car crashed in the paddock across the road from us after a 6-hour high-speed chase. The boys (and some of the rest of us) spent a lot of the next two hours watching the police tracking down the driver, who had taken off on foot, and the tow truck loading up the car, which was escorted by the police back to town. The really amazing thing about this crash was how the fence of the paddock was flung up and over our cow who was standing just inside the fence; the car passed a meter behind her.

On a sunny day, we can see these mountains, the Paparoas, from the girls’ bedroom window. This was a rare clear sunrise, with snow on the mountains.

We find Goofball sleeping in the most contorted postitions!

Mr. Intellectual and Mr. Diligent rebuilding the fence destroyed by the car.

Esther likes to raise bread in front of the stove in the living room. Goofball paid no attention, but Grizzly was very suspicious of it—maybe she could hear the yeast working in the bowl?

Simon bought another car in May, a Suzuki. When the neighbor asked about it, I said, “My son is a mechanic. Need I say more?”

We see a lot of rainbows here! This was one I could see one afternoon from my kitchen window. The end of the rainbow is at the edge of the paddock we use for our cow, where the car crashed.

We spent a weekend in late May in Canterbury, and one of our days over there I took the children to Kaikoura. We enjoyed watching abseilers at work on the cliff faces.

This house surprised us. During a cyclone a couple of weeks after we moved, a new slip came down and filled the house with rocks and dirt! Some of the walls were bulging out.

We also spent a few minutes at Gore Bay, where the boys tried to move a log into the water.

We played on the playground for a few minutes, and Mr. Sweetie climbed his favorite net.

About the Book

Title: Joey
Author: Jennifer Marshall Bleakley
Genre: Inspirational, Memoir
Release Date: May 8, 2018
The heartwarming true story of a blind horse named Joey.

My thoughts:

A horse story for adults? This idea was quite intriguing to me when I read the sign-up information for Joey, so I looked into the book a bit farther. What I saw made me want to read the story. I was not disappointed—this is an incredible account!

For my complete review, please go here.

I received a free copy of this book from the author; all opinions are my own.

The Author’s Synopsis:

At the height of his show career, this beautiful Appaloosa’s majestic stature, strength, and willingness to work made him the perfect partner. But when an injury cost Joey his show career, he moved from one owner to the next, ultimately experiencing severe abuse and neglect. A rescue group found Joey nearly dead from starvation—and blind.

Then he came to Hope Reins—a ranch dedicated to helping hurting kids who had been abused, emotionally wounded, or unwanted. By teaching these children to care for rescued animals, the Hope Reins staff were convinced they could reach kids with love and hope and show them that we are never forgotten by God.

But could the financially struggling ranch afford to take care of a blind horse that no one else wanted? Could Joey somehow learn to trust people even though the world had hurt him so badly? And what would happen—to Joey, the kids, and Hope Reins—if they failed?

A true story of friendship destined to become a classic, Joey will touch your heart and reveal the power of finding light in the darkness.

More Information About This Book:

• When a blind horse named Joey meets a struggling ranch owner dedicated to helping troubled kids, the result is a story of friendship, faith, and overcoming–and ultimately, a tale of how God always cares for the cast aside and uses them for His glory.
• Joey is an inspirational memoir-like read that delights readers with a story about finding healing and restoration in the unlikeliest of places.
• What a blind horse can teach you about overcoming your past and living fully in the life God has called you to have.
• An unlikely story of God using a blind horse to bring healing and restoration to hurting children.
• A percentage of the author’s proceeds from her book, Joey, will go to supporting Hope Reins which pairs hurting kids with rescued horses.
• God said “you’re worthy” when the world said “you’re worthless.” Joey, an inspiriting story of finding healing and restoration in the unlikeliest of places.
• The Hope Reins ranch set out to save these horses, but in the end, the horses saved them.
• How the story of Joey saved the ranch… and taught the most valuable lesson.
• Joey… your family’s next read
• Let God wake you up to life lessons learned in unexpected places!

About the Author:

Jennifer Bleakley graduated from Florida Southern College with a degree in biology and was planning to apply for medical school when her best friend’s father died of pancreatic cancer. Walking through that experience with a family she had loved for so long left a permanent mark on her heart, and she soon realized that God was calling her to stand alongside other families facing similar heartbreak and loss. Jennifer earned a master’s degree in counseling from Nova Southeastern University and began working at the local hospice in St. Petersburg, Florida, as a child and family grief counselor. It was a job she loved deeply and one she continued doing until she and her husband started a family.

When her husband’s job required the family to relocate to Raleigh, North Carolina, God began awakening in Jennifer a long-forgotten passion for writing. She began journaling—recording evidences of God’s hand at work in her new season of motherhood. Her journal morphed into a blog, and she still writes regularly about glimpsing God’s grace in her daily life at jenniferbleakley.com.
Jennifer now writes curriculum and devotionals for her local church, is a contributing author for Treasuring Christ curriculum and She Believes online Bible studies, and leads a community women’s Bible study. She loves introducing children at her church and in the community to Jesus, helping them discover his goodness. Even though she once asserted she was much too introverted to be a public speaker, Jennifer has found that God’s grace is big enough even for lifelong introverts, and she now delights in speaking to audiences about his extraordinary grace at work in our ordinary lives.

Guest Post From Jennifer Bleakley:

One October evening I stared into the eyes of the most unusual looking horse I had ever seen—his black and white spotted coat resembled that of a Dalmatian; his soft pink lips were chewing at some invisible morsel; and his charcoal eyes seemed to peer into my very soul.

And although I’m not what anyone would describe as a horse person, I was completely captivated by this horse.

I inched closer to him, compelled forward by some unseen force, until only a thin rail separated us. He stared at me. I smiled. Can a horse register a human smile? I had no idea, but I smiled anyway. The founder of the horse ranch was telling our small group about the ministry she had started—a ministry that pairs rescued horses with hurting children to help them find true hope and real healing. I listened to her words, but my eyes never moved from the horse. He looked at me as if he could read my every thought. As if he knew exactly why I was at the ranch that night. That I had been feeling a bit lost, struggling to find myself—my calling—in the midst of a new season of life. That I was on this tour in the hopes that I might find answers here—maybe even a purpose.

He bent his head toward the railing just inches from my resting hand. His eyes now level with my own, the setting sun reflecting brilliant hues in the depths of his eyes.

How beautiful, I whispered as my fingers reached toward him.

“And our Joey here is completely blind…” I heard the woman say. “He was a former champion…injured…sold…abused…abandoned….

The fragmented sentence floated around the picturesque scene, but the words just didn’t make sense. Surely the woman wasn’t talking about this horse? Not the one who could see into my soul. Not the black and white beauty who knew all my secrets with just one look?

The woman handed Joey a carrot. His greedy lips taking the treat from her hand, leaving it free to scratch him behind the ear.

“But Joey was rescued and now he lives here,” she continued, “Where every day his determination and blind faith, point hurting kids to hope. Kids who have also known abuse and abandonment. Kids who see Joey choosing to live, choosing to learn, choosing to trust, and realize that maybe, just maybe they can too.”

Tears flowed down my face as I watched the horse nuzzle the woman’s hand. A blind horse leading people to see hope. The phrase swirled around my mind, before settling in my heart.

I had gone to the ranch that day looking for a purpose. Thinking that I could volunteer—use my long forgotten counseling degree in some way. Thinking that time spent here would ease the transition from full-time mommy to mother of school-age children. However, days after meeting the horse his eyes still haunted me. His story still captivated me. And so in spite of knowing very little about horses, and having never attempted anything like writing a book before, I sat down to write about a horse named Joey. A blind horse who was helping me find my way home….

Click here to purchase your copy.

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I took a lot of pictures of my children in May. I braided Little Miss’s hair for the first time! It’ll be awhile before I do it again, though. Her hair is still so short!

Grizzly on top of Mr. Imagination.

After Mr. Intellectual built a bridge for his engineering course one day, Mr. Sweetie built his own version.

Little Miss wanted me to take a picture of her with her baby.

Esther tormenting Goofball.

When we were in Canterbury a few weeks ago, we stopped for a few minutes at Gore Bay. I tried to get a print-worthy picture of the children. The light was wrong, though. In person, this was lovely, but a camera just can’t pick up what the human eye can.

And then, I got these goofy faces!

We tried again at Hurunui Mouth, with a bribe of some feijoas for cooperation. This one turned out decent.

I think we’ll try again sometime.

And, one last picture. This is one Simon needed taken for his apprenticeship. He was supposed to have a picture of himself in his safety gear for doing a job. The job he chose to illustrate involved welding, so here he is decked out for that.

When we had the chance to review something for The Critical Thinking Co.™ recently, I asked Mr. Intellectual to look over the choices with me, as this looked like products he would enjoy but no one else in the family would be interested in. Sure enough, he was very interested in Something Fishy at Lake Iwannafisha. He loves mysteries and puzzles, so this was perfect for him.

The first thing I had Mr. Intellectual do was study the Forensic Evidence Lessons, since he had never learned much about that topic. There were lessons about anthropology, arson, ballistics, counterfeit money, death investigation, document and handwriting analysis, and fingerprints. After he spent his spare time for a day or so studying this, I gave him the first part of the mystery to solve.

In Something Fishy at Lake Iwannafisha, A Whodunnit Forensic Mystery, you are given a scenario, and have to figure out what happened and who did it. Students first get a brief introduction and a map of the area in which the incident happened, and the police report for the case. The police department was called to a fishing cabin, where they found a shed in flames, a body, and a lot of money. After studying this initial report, they are to ask for the witness statements they think might be helpful, and whatever other reports might help them figure out the case. They aren’t given a list of what is available—they have to figure out what to ask for based on the crime scene report! I found it a bit challenging to know how to guide this investigation, since I knew the whole story already but didn’t want to give any information away prematurely. It’s laid out very well, though, and I really appreciated the checklist of all the documents I had available to give him. The instructions are quite clear.

Mr. Intellectual spent about 7-8 hours on this project, not counting the time spent on the forensic evidence lessons. He pretty much knew who did the crime by the four-hour mark, but it took a long time to work out the details and figure out possible motives. Recording all the supporting evidence meant a lot of thinking and writing, which was very good for him.

See all the pages he had to work through:

A few tips if you want to use this book: Buy the digital download rather than the physical book. You’ll want to be printing a lot of pages anyway. Print single-sided rather than double-sided, because it will be a lot easier to spread things out in front of you and compare notes. Also, it would be a good idea to do this in groups or teams so you can have two minds thinking about it. I asked a question once or twice to get him thinking in a different direction so he could solve the mystery, but as I said, since I knew the answers, I had to be very careful how I worded it. Having a partner who didn’t know would have been good, but none of the other boys was interested.

This made a great project during a week that we took off school a few weeks ago. It’s intensive enough that it would have been hard to fit in during a normal week, but makes a nice change-of-pace for a break. Incidentally, during that week a car crashed across the road from us in a high-speed police chase. Studying the tracks to see exactly where the car went gave the children some hands-on practice in forensics.

My final opinion? I would have preferred a scenario that didn’t involve murder, but I felt like this was valuable practice for my boy in searching out the truth of what happened, and thinking logically about evidence that he found. I know he really enjoyed it, and it was good for him.