In a state of almost.

My garden is beginning to take shape, its ghetto staggered rows and grass clippings kind of look something like a food factory I and my husband have coaxed from the earth. Being tight for cash has made it an interesting year so far to say the least, but fortunately we invested in quite a bit of seed last year in our overzealousness. This year all I had to do were start seedlings, which is an exercise in patience and hope if ever there was one. This bit of earth is cobbled together on dreams and goodwill; a little sweat equity, lots of venting of my frustrations at this life and countless hours of weeding. It is my therapy garden, and I am deeply indebted to this who've contributed to this: my father and husband, my two favorite men.
The potatoes and onions are sprouting up nicely but slowly from the seed potatoes and onion sets my dad shared with me. The broccoli I started in our warm February is also doing well, as are the mystery tomatoes from dad and those and the peppers Hubs picked up at the nearby nursery. So far our cash investment has be less than $20 this year. And there are watermelon and cucumbers taking off like they are trying to reach the sky. It's all very cobbled together and ugly, but I love it so much it brings me near to tears to think what we might have accomplished.
The coop is all set and ready for the chickens, who are coming today. I am very excited and somewhat nervous- I hope the ladies like their new digs and all fit well without fighting each other. Again, as with the garden, not the most beautiful sights in the world unless you are looking with my eyes, brimmed with tears and hope. I don't know what comes next, but here we are. We are moving in the right direction albeit slowly and sometimes painfully. The SemiFarm is growing.
The garden is the only place I seem to be able to just be, where I can let go of all my stress and worries and focus my energy on doing something for another living thing, like saving my seedlings from being choked out like weeds. In my garden, I can be a hero to something beyond myself, I can do simple deeds that make a large difference. In my empire of dirt, I am both a humble servant and a sculptor. I can help the plants who in turn help me by sharing their fruit. It is a very symbiotic relationship we have, my garden and I, and I can let go and trust that if I help it it will feed me. No worries. It simply is what it is and turns out how it does. If only I could extend my garden mind out into the rest of my life as well. Beginner's mind, they call it. I need to cultivate my beginner's mind as a grow my garden, my sense of awe and wonder at life and my trust in the process. I need to learn to love the state of almost, and enjoy the possibilities and anticipation rather than turning it to anxiety and impatience.
Here are some photos of the garden and its beginning stages. May summer help us both blossom and bear the fruit of our efforts.

Slight Hope. It Dangles on a String. Like Slow Spinning Redemption.

Remember those seedlings trampled and ravaged by some wild animal? Just like me, they're about to make a comeback.

Not much has happened around the homestead due to lack of funds, lack of motivation, lack of everything but time. That I have plenty of. Hoping soon that there will no longer be a problem with that and someone will find it in their heart to offer this girl a chance at finding something meaningful in terms of a career. I'm on the upswing baby- I can feel it. I just want to make a difference.

This being without a job, I cannot sugar-coat it; the worst is the waiting. It is horrendous and soul sucking, the day after day of no calls and no offers, of wondering if something I said or did or am is in someway inadequate. I tire of it all. I tire of feeling as if I am not good enough for the hundreds of places I have applied, that in some way I am defective. I am letting go of it tonight. Say goodbye to insecurity and hello to self-worth.

What I can do instead of wait is write, write my heart and soul out on this blog and in my journal about all the crushing feelings, the disappointment that comes from being unemployed, the vast dissatisfaction at never seeming to be quite enough in a competitive market. I am through wringing my hands in anticipation. I am dropping my fear of failure at this off a cliff, letting it go.

The right job is coming my way. I just have to let it get here, which it will do in its own good time. I have to have faith. All things grow and die, come and go, burn out and fade away. At some point this situation must change, but that doesn't mean I can quit trying.

A long walk with an old friend today revealed to me, in a moment of Zen, that in order to live, I must accept failure. Every interview I have, whether or not I get the job, is another blessing, another chance at practicing my skills and networking with others. There are lessons in both outcomes, and a phoenix can rise from these ashes of my defeat. If I let myself cling only to feelings of failure and inadequacy, I only cause myself more heartbreak and anguish. It's okay to enjoy the process, the sense of exploration and adventure that comes with starting a new career. I don't need to make what will eventually pass more of an arduous process by grasping for control or trying to force the world to unfold according to my timeline.

So I am seeing the seedlings as a bright new sign, an omen that the tides are changing and all that is is passing away. We'll start a new chapter, a new adventure right here where we are, for where else can I start? The chickens are coming and it will be a new season of bounty on the SemiFarm, with all the focus in life turned to illuminating the good, being grateful for what I have and am instead of ruminating about what I lack. Each day will be an adventure in mindfulness, a new chance to believe in the cycles of birth and death, of growth and change. On this lonesome road I'm travelling on, I'm setting down the fear the best I can and carrying on lighter and freer for it.

I believe a better time is just moments beyond my view. Sometimes all you can do to change the world is just one little thing. My little thing is hope.

No Ordinary Moments

Since I am waiting for my friend to get my chickens, we have a bit of a delay in the homesteading plans. Since the coop is complete and we have some time yet to get supplies, we took advantage of this time to begin our garden this year, or at least start planning it.
This year's garden is a low-budget affair on account of me not working at the moment. So hubs picked up a few seed starting trays from the local Walmart and I busted into last year's bounty of seeds from Seed Savers Exchange and Burpee's organic selection. I already have some broccoli plants started as well as a peach tree on my back porch and have direct sown some spinach, chard, leeks and radishes out in the plot we used last year that dad has filled up for me already. Today I went out and sowed some peas under the trellis, so in a couple of months we should have some delectable snow peas to put in our salads.
My wonderful neighbors at the farm have been gracious enough to share their harvest of asparagus with us, and I am excited to taste fresh, homegrown spears with tonight's dinner. We have rain coming up the next few days. At least that's what they're calling for, so I should have plenty of time to make up a sweet thank you note and send it off to them. I can't think of anyone I'd rather live by than this family, who is so generous and caring. We borrow eggs and time from one another, share coffee and childcare, and I am so grateful for their friendship.
I love this time of year. This spring has been fantastic and I am enjoying every minute I get to spend here at the SemiFarm. I desperately need work and believe the right thing will come along in due time, so I am filling my waiting moments in between applications and interviews with lots of outdoor time, tai chi, reading and reflection, and practicing meditation on my back porch as much as possible, with the wind caressing my hair and the birds as a soundtrack to my bliss. I enjoy the possibility that lies in spring, when, as Dan Millman put it, there are no ordinary moments. Growth and change is all around us, in the air and the earth, and everything, including hope, is born anew.
I am practicing patience and presence as I wait for seedlings to sprout and hens to arrive. I am trying to enjoy the journey, which, after all, is more important than destinations. This present moment is a precious moment and will never happen again. I'm going to savor it, like local asparagus, and revel in each breath of this country air, every ray of this brilliant sun and radiant moon and take time to enjoy the wait. Each moment is special, happens only once, and is perfect. It is all I have to enjoy and the way things change around here, not a one of them is going to be ordinary.

waitless.

i am but a small part
inside a large whole
spreading out all around me
infinite
here i sit grounded in me
watching it all go by
a winding country road
bent over some far away horizon
i'm a cog in the machinery
a blip in the Universe
important but tiny
whose purpose cannot be seen
from the finite view of
my one little part
so instead
radiant, hopeful
i spread my wings
unfurled
and jump :in faith:
praying for the winds to
bear my weight
and gently guide
(glide?)
me in the right direction

Fini

Nearly two years exactly after I set out to get chickens, the coop is complete. After a long day of chasing one of my dogs through the neighboring fields and woods after his cunning escape, we knocked out bolting down the roof and cutting the entrance door for the hens. As soon as I can muster up some supplies like feed, pine shavings and straw, I can contact my friend about when to bring the ladies home. I am so excited!

This weekend also marked the end of a long standing dream for my husband too as we brought home and installed a second-hand pool table in our extra room. It's something he's wanted for a very long time, and we found an exceptional deal so we jumped at it, even if the timing isn't perfect financially.

It feels great to get something accomplished around here, and we are celebrating by cooking some beef out on our grill on this gorgeous day. Now if I can just find a job... We are moving so much in the right direction.

Next on the homesteading agenda: the garden, followed by some cute and fuzzy (probably pet) bunnies to get us used to rabbit tending.

Hope everyone had as great of a weekend as we did! Here's to the beginning of another week.

Almost Only Counts...

...as my father says in horseshoes and hand grenades, but we are getting there with the chicken coop. The run is reinforced and wrapped in wire on 3 sides. A board has been put up to keep the birds from climbing under the coop. All that remains is the roof on the run and the door for the little buggers to go in and out. Two years in the making... we are almost there. It's about the journey, not the destination anyways, right? Anyways, for lack of something better, enjoy some random music on this too-windy-to-do-anything day....

Zen and the art of chicken coop building

We started today off with a little fishing as the weather slowly warmed up to the 80s today. It was windy and hard to cast and I didn't have but one bite in the hour we were there. It would have frustrated me, been a waste of time and made me angry except I spent the whole time meditating, trying to be present and just fish. I love how fishing makes me stop and just be.
Fishing also makes me feel connected more to my inner hunter-gatherer, even if the objective is simply catch and release. There is something primal about pretending to be prey, something in it that makes me notice the small things like ripples and bubbles in the surface more. My senses are hightened when I fish. Thank goodness I still get to eat even if I fail to catch anything. I am blessed that way I guess.
After fishing it was time to work on the coop some more, which is so close to finished I can taste it. We built the run today, and all that's left is cutting the door and adding some wire mesh to the run, which we will probably complete by the end of next week. Then I can wait for the hens to come and begin to obsess over our next animal venture, which will be rabbits. I am delighted and can't wait. Every day seems like an adventure living in the present, once I shut my mind off to the past and future. I feel a deep sense of peace and happiness this weekend. It is a welcome change from the stress I've put myself through being unemployed, though I know we have plenty of money and will make it just fine.
Enjoy the pictures and the remainder of your weekend friends. I hope you are safe, happy and at peace wherever you may be.