it's just happening

*I hesitated posting this last night because I was afraid that it would sound like a cry for help, but really I just needed to get this stuff off my chest. We're still trying to figure out what to do about the car- whether to get a credit card, ask our families and close friends for a loan, find a sweet diesel truck and convert it to a veggie-oil guzzling monster... I decided to post it after all because I know there are plenty of people who are dealing with similar hard choices. So often this blog is a place for me to post about all the wonderful things in life. Today I feel that needs to be balanced out with what's going on behind the scenes. To make you feel normal for feeling confused too.*

I realize that I want it all, now.

That I'm just not being patient enough, but still I want...

my little old car to work again

to feel like my head is above water

to see my family more often and have long, 
reciprocal, forgiving hugs with them

to spend less time on the computer

to spend more time outside, just being there

for Jamie and I to have schedules that coordinate more frequently so we can work outside together 

...I also want his wrist to heal

to convince my heart (and wandering mind) that all 
the doomtastic and overwhelming things happening on this 
planet are just part of "the plan." 

Good vs. evil, ego vs. id, yin and yang...

to hug my brother and tell him it's all going to be okay, 

whatever "all" turns out to be

for my friends to feel better too


and for my cat to be healthy again

to be closer to god or the universe, or whatever greater being that is connected to everything and us all

to stop hiding my emotions from myself and instead find a way to confront things that make me anxious as they happen

 to continue connecting with people near and far from me and to feel more a part of something whole and comforting because of those relationships

to stop feeling like my role in this life is to hold things together, because it's really not. We're all doing it. Life is just happening around us and we're a part of it, and we have some influence on it, but sometimes we don't.

At least that's how it feels to me

...and that's the honest truth. Farming without family can get lonely. Part-time farming while you and your partner are working away from home, just trying earn enough money to pay for rent and electricity and gas and a new car and medical bills and hay is a test of patience and a lesson in receiving. Living without the dream of farming, or even just a simplified, more tangible existence with this earth would probably be unbearable. So giving up is not a n option. I know it could be way worse, but it seems like there's no middle ground. Our life is either really amazing and we have all the luck in the world on our side, or the universe senses our arrogance and willingness to take that amazingness for granted and decides to make things really difficult and humbling for a while. All it means is that this summer must be really good and that this up and down thing will level out with time. At least that's what Jamie says, and my fingers are crossed that he's right.

attack-cat wants cake

 As I write this, the kitty is in my lap attacking my arm and then rolling upside-down to snuggle and lick it. (Make up your mind kitten!) Jamie is in the kitchen cooking dinner. We're having steamed baby pac choi, goat meat marinated in molasses, brown sugar, lemongrass and ginger, roasted purple potatoes, avocados, and garlic bread. Men who can cook, win.

Today I woke up to a very exciting thing! Kate from Longest Acres is doing a Ladies and their Cakes series and she chose me for her first post! Last week she put out a plea for recipes, so I sent her a very basic but amazing white cake recipe from the 1964 version of Joy of Cooking that my grandma gave me back in high school. At the time, I was enchanted by all things Food Network Channel, and this raggedy old book got shoved away in a cabinet. When I moved out, it was revived because I finally realized that grandmas do know best. (Duh.)

Anyway, go check out Kate's post, and make sure to follow up down the road. Last month I found her lovely blog through some internet magic, commented like a stalker on three posts in a row (within ten minutes), and got a reply email the same night which made me relieved since I was worried I had come off as creepy/annoying. Longest Acres is full of Kate's beautiful photographs of pigs, ducks, chickens, and sweet stories about honest, daily, farm life. 

Like her, I feel unbelievably lucky to have made so many wonderful friends through blogging. It can get a little lonely out here, especially since most of my "real-life" friends can't relate by talking about raising sheep or methods of cleaning out the chicken coop. It's refreshing to read about (and talk to!) other women who are dealing with similar homesteading mishaps in such a positive way. Which brings me to say, thank you so much for your comments my dear readers. I can't express how much they brighten my days. Your far-away friendships are something I really do hold close to heart.  Can we have a virtual farm party?

ps. I'm in the process of creating a recipes page on this here blog. Beware, I am not really a recipe follower, except when it comes to baking, which explains why I am not necessarily a good recipe writer. I plan to edit things up a little for clarity's sake, but ultimately I just use trial and error when I cook. A pinch of this, a dab of that. You know the rundown. This new page is going to be a little nudge for me to start cooking like I used to, and encouragement for me to start making more sense of my scribble-scrabble kitchen notebook. Hope you enjoy.

pss. I have an oober-craving for tiramisu right now. Like whoa.

beckoning new life

No more snow, but plenty of mud. Plenty of cool wind on my hair and mango-colored sunsets over the pasture. Plenty of 60 degree days and then back to 30. Plenty of light cotton shirts under heavy coats. Plenty of geese on the pond. Yes, I am ready for spring. Normally I'd relish in winter, but since this has not really been a true winter, I'm ready to say good bye. The seed catalog was in the mailbox today. Let it begin. 

Have you begun garden planning yet? If so, what mistakes will you not repeat this year, and what new ideas are you looking forward to playing around with.

Oh! On Friday my introductory post for the Pasture of Plenty (farm interview) series was published on the Carroll County Times website. It was also printed in the newspaper to apparently gather new readers. I'm so excited!

mouth full of mercury

 Where in the world do I begin? Thursday seemed to be the climax of a very exciting yet emotional week. It began with a dream that I was helping one of our most challenging students fall to sleep, but when I walked to his bed, it was covered with glass from a broken light bulb... the new "eco-friendly" kind. I quickly shoved all the shards into my mouth to protect him, but immediately panicked about Mercury poisoning and uh... glass in my mouth. That's when I woke up.

 Later in the day, I visited David for the first time in almost six months. David is an autistic little boy who I did therapy with when I lived in Ellicott City. I was working at a grocery store, desperately trying to get by. We had no car, so I rode my bike to David's house each week, rain or shine. It became a ritual I loved, and one he relied upon. Then we had to move away and life became absolutely hectic. I couldn't fit David into my "schedule" anymore, and I missed him. There was a time in the cabin when I thought I could resume our routine. But I realized the type of therapy I did with him wasn't feeling right. It was rigid and militaristic and made me think every day about how unfair it is that there's not adequate social space, understanding, and acceptance of autistic people. My heart hurt, so I tried to say goodbye with the understanding that we'd stay in touch on an occasional basis.

 

Thursday was one of those occasions. And David managed to find a hole in my heart last night. He opened it right up and made it very clear that we belong to each other. Our souls collided for a very particular reason, and there's some sort of spiritual binding that keeps us from staying apart. When I drove up, he was waiting for me in the rain. I stepped out of the truck and the first thing he did was jump up and down and then he smelled me. Yes, he smelled me. We went to his play space, ran through our old routine of songs and games, and after five minutes he said, "Do you want to hug?" I nearly cried, it was so beautiful. I can't help but think about the symbolism of Mercury, and its relation to the magic that happened with David. Mercury is considered the alchemical base metal. From what I understand, it was combined with other metals in the attempt to form gold. And then there's mercury glass, which was blown with a hollow interior and filled with Mercury to give it that sheen. I'm not sure I can cohesively interpret it all, but I feel in my heart a true connection. Something about amalgams and cores/hearts and all of this being trapped inside something so lovely.

a time for self-reflection, hibernation... and toddlers

 There's something so comforting about putting the animals to "bed" at dusk. Normally it's too dark to photograph, but on Sunday I managed to step outside at the perfect time. You know how nighttime seems to be a little bit brighter when there's snow on the ground...

As I write this, I'm still warm with contentment after a visit with a close friend. It's so nice to talk openly about things we bottle up inside, parts of our personalities that we fail to acknowledge on a daily basis. The rhythm of conversation flowed beautifully this whole evening. It had been a long time since I really talked with someone besides Jamie. You know that feeling? We walked to a nearby stream, listened to the water bubbling over fallen leaves, and came to realize that a common theme in our lives right now is impatience. Do you feel that too?

I was also able to verbalize (in spoken form, not the keypad) my feelings about winter and isolation and hibernation and disconnect from society. I was struggling with this feeling that something was wrong with me because I've been overwhelmed with things like Facebook and the news (...oh the news). But really, what I admitted tonight is that winter symbolizes to me a period of rest, of planning, and of inner "work." I don't crave social interaction in exciting new places, and that's perfectly okay.

ps. Speaking of bedtime, I was putting one of our three year olds to sleep this afternoon, stroking her forehead in that most tender way. I glanced around the room and then felt her little finger touch my hand. It was a pretty adorable moment... until I looked down and saw upon my palm a big, fat, brownish booger. When I saw her devious smile, I couldn't help but laugh. But really, why do toddlers think you're a walking kleenex?!

my flock of wooly creatures in the snow

...and now it's all melted. Oh well, it was beautiful while it lasted. My favorite photo in this group is probably the one below the bowl of eggs. The one of the grasses looking toward the horse farm. I loved the way they stood all sturdy with ice, toward the pale gray sky and the pasture, glazed in glistening white.

How about you? Have you captured any peaceful snowy moments recently?