return from hiatus

Prepare yourself. You may be about to be disappointed. If you are one of those folks who came back here expecting to hear about my chickens, DIY hacks to bring a bit of sustainability into your life, or my adventures in tilling the soil to provide my family with good wholesome food, you might in for a big let down. Sure, that sort of stuff lurks here and you can find it if you want to explore the archives of my thoughts. But I've got bad news. As I continue to search the world around me for meaning (which is often an arduous task), I am changing and so are my interests. Consequently, so is my writing.

Sustainability and the availability of healthy organic food are still things I strongly believe in, so they may find a little air time here, but there are so many other varied and random things that also need to be said. Some you will discover as shouts from the rooftops as I embody my more self righteous moments (though I try to keep those to a minimum). Others might appear as whispers, life lessons tucked inside photographs or YouTube videos of songs. I'm not really sure. You see, I am still exploring and growing, and I am taking my blog with me.

I've avoiding reemerging with my words here for quite some time, hoping in some way I could make it perfect, that I'd have a profound realization to share or a format to follow. In the process of waiting and procrastinating though, I feel like I was also losing something. A bit of my soul began to wither away as I neglected writing, which to me encompasses so many things. It is about release and reflection, connection and community, my hopes and fears and tears on paper. Writing is how I create, how I express myself and how I bring a bit of art into these veins that often become clogged and cluttered with the necessities and stresses of everyday life. I have no grand excuse for my absence, nor any apologies, and I will no longer make either of those, nor any promises, here. All you'll get instead is this short narrative about my self-imposed exile.

If you find disappointment in these lines and posts, know you are not alone. I am right there with you. For a while I had this dream (or delusion) that I could perhaps make a living doing something I loved and by trying to turn that into a reality I destroyed a bit of what I loved about it and the creative space I had built here. I sold out to an extent, and art became infused with marketing as I struggled to understand how I could make what I loved to do even remotely profitable. (This seems to be a theme for me, I'm discovering.) I had a good (albeit short) run, but soon the act of knitting together phrases itself became drudgery. My creativity began to fade and, along with it, my inspiration and zest for life. I became bogged down and overwhelmed with writing, with living, with nearly everything, and began to give up.

On the way down from my mild material successes, I discovered how good giving up can feel. Once you get past the guilt you might pile on yourself at the prospect of failure, it really is an incredible release. So I kept giving up. It started, of course, with writing. I became terrified of sharing how I really perceived anything so I just stopped sharing at all. I gave up being fake at my bank job and embraced my inner socialist a bit too much. I gave up on over-scheduling myself and deadlines. I gave up on feeling for awhile with some pharmaceutical assistance I actually paid for on purpose (the kind sanctioned by my health insurance~don't worry). I gave up on dreams and goals, gave up caring what I looked like, gave up taking care of myself and, for a little while, gave up hope of ever finding employment I could do without getting sick to my stomach over some moral discord involved and wanting to give up going. There comes a point, amongst all this quitting, where there is a bit of release and relief. After a while though, it even becomes work to stop caring about things. I already had this awesome momentum going though, so I started quitting other stuff in hopes it would bring meaning back to my life.

I quit eating meat. I quit drinking coffee. For a brief period of time, I even tried to quit sweet things. I quit making excuses to myself. I quit caring so much what everyone else thinks and using my perceptions of what they think to define myself. I quit sitting on my ass without exercise. I quit being so negative. I quit trying to be something I am not. I quit being a victim. I quit chasing the traditional American definition of "success".I quit chasing a number on the scale. I quit my psychiatric drugs. I quit feeling ashamed of how I feel. I quit being so hard on myself. All this letting go. But I have tried to add back a few things that make me feel alive. I'm adding back caffeine (in moderation) and exercise. I'm adding in time to read everyday and saying "no" every once in a while. I'm adding in compassion for myself and others, walks in the park just to see beautiful things, and time playing with my pets. I'm adding back yoga and, now, I am adding in writing.

I've begun to see life as a practice. There really is no such thing as "enough" and there never will be. All I can do is the best I can do in each moment, and sometimes that means poor decisions and failure. It also means there is no one "right" way and that things will naturally flow and change on their own. It is time to allow my writing, my art, the same grace and flexibility. It is time to just practice~ in life, in yoga, in creating words on a page. I am finding that the more I let go and the more vulnerable I let myself become, the more what I want in life grows on its own without my trying so hard. When I quit pushing everything out, there is more room in my heart for things like beauty and inspiration to flow in. I can be moved to tears by a sunrise and I can live more fully and I can have a sense of belonging to something bigger than myself, rather than this illusion of separateness and loneliness.

Therefore my art is a practice. There will be no scheduled daily postings and no more content formats or limits on subject matter. If you are expecting to use this blog to keep up with what my family is "doing", try Facebook instead. On these pages, I will simply share what moves me in the hope that, perhaps, it might move you too. The content, while always open for discussion, is not subject to debate. It's just how I feel. Feedback, as always, is encouraged, but understand that all you'll get here was created for creation's sake. You are so welcome to be a part of my community and read as you like, but it will not all be flowery or perfect or predictable. Please let go of your expectations and judgments if you'd like to join me on my journey. It might not always be pretty, but it will, in its own way, be magical. No disappointment allowed.

dealer.

stay tuned for the next step in my evolution.

Summer Siren Song

Spent 45 minutes today cowered on the floor in one of our bathrooms with my daughter, the two dogs, a jar of baby frogs, and one of the cats as a wicked little storm blew through and a tornado was spotted just a few miles from here. No idea whether or not in actually touched down. Scary stuff, these summer storms, but we were together and were able to monitor the storm over the internet and text with my husband throughout the ordeal on my phone. Everyone's fine, we didn't lose power this time, and hopefully the worst is over for the week. 90 degree temps are bad enough without wicked humidity and the threat of funnel clouds.
The chickens did a great job hustling themselves back in the coop and the outdoor cats dug in and hid under the coop until the rain and wind had passed. In a short time it will be time to make the rounds looking for eggs, but I would be surprised if much of that went on during this morning's storms.
The last few days though have been what I call "5 egg days", meaning we got 5 eggs and the day was overall a relative success. I'm waiting anxiously for a few phone calls and really hope today ends up being a five egg sort of day as well. Tomorrow is the holiday and I'm not sure I could bear the suspense of waiting for two more whole days. I'm so close to a solution to my unemployment problem I can taste it, and I'm dying to see how things turn out. Distracting myself with cleaning and household chores isn't really working either, so the pins-and-needles stress from the morning storm is carrying over into my afternoon. Saying a little silent prayer that things will work out and I'll get my answers soon.
The garden is really enjoying the rain of the last few days, even if I find it sort of stressful. The cucumbers are starting to grow and there are more than a few peas on the vine. Our broccoli is getting eaten alive by cabbage moths though, which have also taken up residence in my kitchen window too. Not sure if it will work or not, but thought of spraying them with a little Murphy's Oil Soap after it dries out a bit to see if that refers the moths some. I read oil and soap were both pretty effective, so I am hoping this will do the trick. I've been growing these broccoli plants since the late winter and would love to get something off of them if we could. They're the trippy broccoli variety called (I think) Romanseco or something like that and the florets are supposed to have a spiral pattern to them, which would be pretty neat to see, let alone taste. The tomatoes are starting to produce as well as the peppers, so we might get some salsa out of our garden just yet.
Since it's kind of a crappy albeit cooler day today, we're kind of sticking closer to home, enjoying each other and the silence after the storm, cuddling the dogs and catching up on our rest. Only one week left till the big camping trip, so soon it will be time to reserve a rental car and start packing. Hopefully the weather will cooperate with us and it will be cool and sunny once again. I'm a little anxious about leaving the farm, but my brother, whom I very much trust, is coming to look after things and I'm sure he'll do his best with the chickens, dogs and rabbits (and everything else). I also hope he enjoys the relaxation here a little bit too, kind of like a working vacation for himself. I hope to have tons of pictures to post and stories to tell upon our return to a place I've heard described as stunningly beautiful. I can't wait to see it.

A Paws for Prayer

Today was our first day of chicken tending in the rain, dodging drops of much needed cool wetness on our way to the coop and hutch. After the oppressive heat of the last few days, this kind of cold is a welcomed thing, even though it's predicted to be in the 90s again today. It's a good thing though, that we are getting what we are, as hauling water from the front of the house to the garden was hard, hot work and the plants are certainly grateful for the drink.
It's so interesting to me how much more attention gets paid to things like the weather which, in most people's lives, is just something that arises as kind of a nuisance. Here it affects a lot that we do, from when the lawn gets mowed to how often we must check on the animals to how we spend our time in the evenings. It really is a pivotal thing, these whims of Mother Nature, something I have learned to have a deep respect and gratitude for as we learn to live closer to the land.
I have no ideas yet what today will bring, except a trip to the feed store for more layer ration and dog food. Part of the family is still enjoying the cool weather resting in bed to the birdsong, which is a great way to spend your Saturday mornings as far as I am concerned. It's likely where I'd be if the animals didn't need let out and fed so early in the day.
Yesterday was a flurry of activity that began at 6 AM, a time I haven't seen on purpose for many months. It was a day dedicated to finding new employment and I was slated to have both a job shadowing interview and a regular interview for a type of job I've done for a very long time. The job shadowing turned out to be a whole lot of fun and a great reminder on just how much goes on in this world that I know nothing about and how much there is out there to still learn and explore if I treat everyday like the adventure it is. It was a chance to get a behind-the-scenes look at something I have wanted to try since I was in high school and even took a course in but never did. For multiple reasons I had let that dream die, just like my childhood dream to be a real writer, because the timing wasn't right or the money wasn't there and I was just getting established. I am trying to have faith that everything will work out as I need it to and be patient as I wait for the outcome, but, truth be told, it'd be like following my heart again instead of my head to get this job. It'd be a chance to finally make a difference every day with what I do in a real and meaningful way, to impact the world around me positively with my actions. I'd be pursuing what is known as "right livelihood", one that helps end and ease suffering for other beings I share this planet with, and I'd be honored to have a chance to make a difference in that way. I'm nervous, hopeful and excited, and know that every day would be a bit of an emotional roller coaster, but I'm ready. I have no idea what it pays and if the money or scheduling part would even work out well, but I am trusting the universe here that I'm being steered in the right direction. The best thing about being at the bottom here, career-wise, is that there is only room to go up, and I am trusting that the right opening will find me.
So this weekend will be spent mainly in anticipation of what's to come. Here I sit with many, many more questions than answers. It's slightly uncomfortable, this needing to trust. Control freak me is forced to let go for once and just allow things to happen as they will. This is the biggest challenge for me of all, a lesson that I'm learning through this slow life of chicken tending and rabbit feeding. Deliberate action + following your heart + living with integrity and honesty = dreams starting to come true. Here's my silent prayer everything will fall neatly into place and I can finally try something completely different. Pray with me.

love is overwhelming

It's from a beer commercial and is about a girl~ but I feel exactly this way about my husband...what a beautiful song. Enjoy!

When You Garden, You Grow*

My garden is like the job market, full of hundreds of other plants besides the ones I planted there. My seedlings compete with the weeds, just like I do with countless others, for very limited resources. In the case of my garden, the competition is for water, as we have had a very dry growing season so far. Me, I compete for attention, hoping some employer will notice this helpful plant amongst the so many others growing around and that I'll be recognized for what I am- not someone who merely wants to suck up and use precious resources like time and opportunity, but can take those things and grow them into beautiful fruit. What I am searching for is not just a job, but a chance at a career doing something that matters, making the lives of those around me that I share the world with better somehow. I will keep growing tall, hoping to stand out amongst the purslane and crabgrass as a different, somehow brighter shade of green.
I've been diligently sending out resumes and cover letters and trying to wrangle more freelancing gigs, all the while tending to this mini farm and all that goes along with that. I'm not just playing here folks, I'm serious. I'm treating my writing like a business and doing things like spending hours a day joining professional associations and marketing myself and my services to a wide range of businesses and individuals. I know right now I am planting seeds that someday will grow. We're just waiting on the rain here to make things happen.
While I'm surrounded by so many others searching for work, I've learned a lot about the things that make me unique, chief among them this blog and farm. I've learned how to add mentioning my writing and pseudo-farming in the course of an interview and that doing so proves I am both creative and not afraid to get dirty when necessary. I've also learned some great ways to feel more comfortable about myself and my skills, manage my anxiety about not knowing where this journey will end and just appreciating the path I'm following while I am on it.
As I sat out in my garden today, surrounded by the daunting task of getting the weeds under some semblance of control, I realized that I am doing all I can to get my life under control by spending so much time shouting out to the world that I'm looking for work. Just as it's futile to expect my garden to be weed free (a notion that I think is hilarious), it's pointless to stress at what I can't control. I just need to do the best I can when I have the chance to talk to folks to point out that I'm a helpful person, not a noxious weed.
This pace of life is both slow and busy, every minute occupied by either pursuit of more work or the completion of what's already here. There are cages to clean and mouths to feed and I enjoy every second of it.
This Friday I have a chance to try on an occupation I've never done and I am a bit nervous to take that step, beginning again as I have done so many times in unfamiliar territory. I'm not sure where this opportunity will take me, whether it will become a viable long term option or simply be another something to fill up my day. I'm going in on blind faith in my ability to be adaptable and helpful and with trust that this opportunity, if it's the right one for me, will pay enough for me to be able to make it work. It sounds like fabulous fun but hard work and is something I have always wanted to try. Please say a little prayer that it at least turns out to be a fun experience and that, if nothing else, I'll have potentially lined up a new freelance client.
I'm planning on spending countless hours today out in the garden, trying to bring some order to it and some peace to my mind. Weeding is the best kind of meditation~ slow, deliberate and productive~ a way to see your efforts making progress in a world where it's often not so straight-forward.

*Today's title is the slogan of the National Gardening Association, which offers a fantastic visual library of weeds, among other things. Visit their site at www.garden.org.

There is dust in my house. I am not a designer or a decorator. Nothing in this place looks like it crawled from the pages of a Pottery Barn catalog of even the pages of Country Living magazine. I am not Martha Stewart and frankly, I don't care if my carpet is stained.
My home is full of second hand furniture or pieces we've re-purposed over the years. My pantry is a cabinet that was repaired and once owned by my father-in-law. My daughter's changing table now holds bakeware and kitchen towels instead of diapers. My couch is lumpy and a tomato soup color but my dogs love to sleep on it and drool on the pillows. It's okay.
I think the most expensive things I own are my computer and my cell phone and everything else was on sale or salvaged from Craigslist. We're frugal people, and we have learned that material things aren't all there is to life. We spend our money on experiences and food, pets we love and spend time with, and basic necessities, not flat screen tv's or expensive cars. In fact, both our vehicles are over 10 years old, but we're less than 4 payments from them both being ours.
I'm not a slob. I spend as much time as I can cleaning to keep our things and place in comfortable condition. We vacuum each day and straighten up, but there's perpetually dishes in my sink because we cook at home and there's laundry in the hamper because we are blessed with clothes to wear.
I am grateful for my dirt. Pine shavings in the hallway from the garage means there are chickens in the yard laying eggs for us to eat. Grass clippings on my driveway means I have a large yard to enjoy. And dirty socks under the table mean we worked so hard yesterday we were too tired to carry them to the hamper. Don't worry. They'll make it there today.
I wish I could keep house like something out of Real Simple and that my garden had leaped from the pages of Organic Gardening, but, honey, we are working here, so if you don't like the dust and fur, well, then you just head back to town. We're busy living life and taking care of what's important, each other. This isn't IKEA and we're not on some TV set. Things poop here and we clean it up. This is the best I can do. This may not be a big or expensive place, but it's my own and it's comfortable. I put my feet on the coffee table. I work hard to have what I do and won't be ashamed that it's not storybook perfect.
There's soil and straw and spiders and weeds. There's love and there's mouths to feed and always more work than there is daylight, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.
It may be small, but I love my farm.