Checking in

 Things remain safe in the village, spring is coming (time changed this weekend too). Victor and his wife are in Vienna now, but he had a report from Oleg that the bees are out of the hives, checking out the warmer weather. It was plus 18 C that day. I even got a photo of Lena and the boys taking Bear for a walk to the barn. Luckily they stocked up on food for him and our cats before the war started. 

Here in Manitoba, the above freezing temps we enjoyed during the week have dipped well below zero yesterday. Garry continued to work on the laundry room remodel after I painted the walls. It won't be long before phase two- knocking down the old laundry room to open up the kitchen/living room. 

Long distance

 

Here's Garry having a staff meeting via the computer Tuesday morning here. Oleg and the team in Nikolai Pole and Victor from his hospital room in western Ukraine (he is now out, feeling better and planning to leave Ukraine in a few days). Everything is still quiet in the village, they are making plans for spring planting.

Julia and Dima left the next day and are in Poland, but the rest of the students seem to be okay in the village. Nikolai had gone

to Dnepro before the war started, to find work, but walked back last week. Thats a long walk, at least 90 kilometers.

I have been busy with the reno we are starting in the house here, stripping wallpaper with some helpers. This week we'll paint and put down new flooring. 

Garry was excited to get a Ukrainian flag, Crystal ordered it online, he hung it outside. More excitement as the snow is starting to melt with temps getting above freezing finally here.

Here and there

 

One year ago, Garry and I stayed overnight in Dnepro after our car was towed while we were teaching English at the university for a week long Christian outreach program (it was called American week, but they were unable to get Americans from the states due to Covid). I took some photos of downtown Dnepro from the 29th floor. This morning we got up early to do a zoom class with the students we normally visit once a month in Dnepro and discovered that three places were bombed in the city we know so well. It hurts to think that the war continues to affect people we know and love, as they try to decide what would be safer, to stay or try to go to western Ukraine or cross the border.

We have heard of people who have gone to Poland or elsewhere, and of pregnant moms with little kids who are worried about the husbands left behind, moms with sons in their twenties who can't bear to leave without them. Even some who went to western Ukraine and returned to Dnepro, leaving adult children there. Families who think about whether they should send mom and kids away, the dangers of driving across Ukraine, the dangers of going by train- pretty much every train journey in Ukraine was designed with Kyiv as a central hub, so to go from east to west you go to Kyiv first.

Victor met two of his daughter's friends in western Ukraine who had traveled there from Dnepro. They stood on the platform for eight hours unable to move,  even to go to the toilet, before sitting on their suitcases for the trip in a compartment for six people, filled with 16. All trains, even the nice intercity trains are being used to take people west. People are standing lined up for blocks in Dnepro, filling the area on both sides of the train station. There are announcements from the police that men should go home, only women and children allowed on the trains (and over 60 year old men, I guess). The trains are free, but getting there is hard, some have to stand for the train trip also, and that train could take most of a day to get to Li'viv.

Any way we did get on our zoom call with the kids and talked about snow (still more fell last night) ice fishing, and making butter. We have spent most of the last two days making butter, the boys have excess milk this month. The kitchenaid is faster than the old-fashioned hand crank butterchurn Garry is using in the photo. He may try making cheese next.

 Garry's Bible story was about Jacob, Leah and Rachel and how after 20 years Jacob returned to his homeland and brother. Garry told them he is really wishing he was back in Ukraine.

Things are still pretty normal in the village, other than the curfew and blackout at night. Apparently there have been some rolling power outages, but for the most part, services are on, we are getting facepost messages and posts from staff and students everyday, and often videochats, too. They have no problem selling all the milk they are making.

Apparently our cat Box even moved back into our house, and is being friendly, as you can see in the photo sent to me. It seems so strange to see the pillow that the Steinbach team brought us and the extra long afghan I crocheted for Garry and my cat on the Mennonite couch. I keep thinking of little things I left behind so I could use them when we returned that are not here as I'm cooking and wonder if I will get them sometime. Although most things can be replaced, I wish I'd brought my old computer back for the photos on it, and there's a few mementos and so forth that we'll hopefully see again. It's just not likely to be soon. It's a distraction from worrying over the people we know and love and are constantly praying for there.

 It's much worse for Garry, who worries about whether they will be able to plant spring crops, if not, will they be able to harvest the wheat as food for the cows, how many cows will they be able to feed over the winter, should the start selling off some cows now... plus the big questions of whether or not they should send the women and children west or over the border, and when.

He spends hours trying to check on news about Ukraine, checks in with Victor daily, although he was relieved this morning to find out the money transfer he sent to the bank there on Monday had actually arrived in case they need some for the farm or students. Apparently our student kitchen is feeding a daily meal to about twenty displaced people from Zaporoshia.

 Life is not normal for us, even though everything is normal in Canada. Cold and snowy, too. Yesterday I went for groceries and saw this Ukrainian flag as I drove through a village.

Our Max Boradin leaves the house and farm on Sunday, he's moving to Steinbach and going to work in construction. Spreading out, I have told him he's welcome to visit anytime, especially for dinnertime. We will be alone in the house, except for visiting kids and grandkids and the cat. 

You may have noticed I titled this post here and there, like I often did when Garry and I were on opposite sides of the ocean, because it talks about life here and there, where our hearts and minds are. 

A little muddy

 Everything is still okay in the village, we have chatted with a few people, Julia and Dima proudly showed us their black garbage bag/cardboard blackout window covering they have at their house. During the day life is very normal, Max says that there is still about 60% goods at the stores in the village. 

Looks like there was a bit of snow, and some wet weather recently, in this video Oleg posted on facebook of the tractor pulling the milk truck by the barn. I couldn't get the video, so I took a screen shot. They have sold milk in the city a few times, putting some big plastic drums in the van and pulling up near some apartment buildings and people come out with empty pop bottles to buy milk. Recently they had started finding a new truck to come buy when the company we had been selling to got way (WAY) behind in paying, so in February they told them not to come pick up milk and made plans to take them to court. Before the war started they had paid back about half the money owed, but they still weren't letting them get milk again. This is a bigger truck then that company had. 

We are relieved that the incident at the power plant was resolved, as the farm is only maybe 70 km away from it as the crow flies. It is on the other side of the river, and I have not heard that the Russians have crossed it. 

Selling milk and other mews?

News... I shouldn't post at midnight.

 The other day Oleg drove to the city in the van with 400 litres of milk, which they sold near some apartment buildings. The people were happy to buy some at a reasonable price, apparently some sellers had been charging twice as much. Wednesday they did have a milk truck come again.

More good news as Max was able to go pick up the new motor for the skid steer. Now the guys will have something to keep busy in the shop.

Max says it's taken a few days for the students to adjust to the changes in routine. They are milking while it's light out, morning and evening so they're home by dark. Apparently they can only have one lightbulb on in one room the house with the windows covered after dark.

We should be on a plane

I have been going to write a bit about how we're feeling about not being on a plane on our way to Ukraine right now. Today I unpacked the suitcases, filling one with all the when we go to Ukraine this goes items. A couple days ago, shortly after the invasion Garry was worried we might never be able to return but today he's hoping it could be soon. 

Yesterday I spent much of the afternoon and evening trying to get through to Austrian airlines on the phone after we got a check-in email from Air Canada. Apparently my attempt on the web two days ago to ask for a refund hadn't worked and we were still booked from Winnipeg to Montreal ending in Vienna, only the Kyiv leg was cancelled. I finally got through this morning to someone, only to discover that my request had finally worked. 

Yesterday Garry led prayer for Ukraine at church at both services at Emmanuel, and we were hosting family lunch, luckily my daughter in law was already making grilled cheese sandwiches and had warmed up the leftover chili by the time we got home. 

I'll upload a video of him sharing and praying here. Remember Garry always calls the students kids and their kids our grandkids in Ukraine, I think he confused some people about whether our actual kids are in Ukraine right now. 

Garry hasn't been sleeping well, sometimes he's awake in the middle of the night and calling for a video chat with Max, Victor or the students. This morning he was on a three way chat with Victor and Oleg. So we hear lots about what is happening in the village (Victor is actually in western Ukraine now). They have made a few changes to the routine with the war. They hadn't been able to sell milk for a couple days and so were selling it at a reduced price or giving it away to people who came to the barn (dumping some down the drain one day when they couldn't give it away). Yesterday there was fighting (a near riot ?) over getting  free milk, so today they were giving only a half liter per person away because there was a truck coming from a factory to buy the rest at a reduced price.

They are only milking twice a day because the village office was worried about the noise of the vacuum pump, I'm not sure if it's because it might attract Russian attention or that it sounds kind of like an air siren. The cows will give a little less milk and probably eat a little less also. If the power goes off, hand milking will be very quiet. So far everything is working, but no one wants to drive to the city. Most businesses are closed there anyway. 

From what I understand, a few refugees, mostly moms and kids from Zaporozhye that are staying in the village, some in our houses, are eating at our lunchroom with the students. Food supplies at the stores are almost gone. They are eating some of the stuff that I froze and canned last summer. If it gets bad they may kill a cow for beef. They cleaned up the cellars for places to stay if the war comes closer. Here's a photo of some kids playing in the basement of what was the Crawford house, where Oleg, Elena and family live, they have two family groups staying with them and their two boys and Elena's father. I'm assuming it's not quiet.

The students told Garry that the new Quonset storage barn vibrates when there is shelling in Zaporozhye, you can hear the metal rattling.