Worth it

Studying like crazy today and came across something that give me pause, and a tear, and a hope, and a smile...Some things just make it all worth it


"[If] you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in the field of your bliss, and they open the doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be." Joseph Campbell - The Power of Myth

Keep going

Cozy

I was so very happy to end up my work week yesterday!  Things with school are truly amping up for the big finish mid December.  It seems as though everything (i.e. massive research papers, powerpoints, projects, exams, etc.) are all vying for my attention.

Winter slammed into us with a seemingly 40 degree drop literally overnight.  I'm still running here and there without a jacket and I get those looks (what's wrong with you??)  I chalk it up to thick iron rich blood (after a young adulthood of slight anemia - go figure)  Now I seem to be quite iron rich (I've been tested - it's up there - but apparently I'm ok)  Honestly, it has helped me understand myself more.  I've been like this for a while.  People can be chilly at work and there I am in a T-shirt bangin out the day. I've given up on gazing wistfully at intricate sweaters that would look oh-so-pretty at work but would have me uncomfortable in a matter of minutes.  Also our office is in a building where the windows are set into a brick exterior and you cannot open them...sigh.  I really should have been a park ranger...

So today I woke up to a disaster of a kitchen (remember I live with men)  so in my PJ's I scrubbed bleached swept and mopped and in a matter of an hour and a half the kitchen and its owner were happy.

The thermostat in my home read 63 but I am pretty comfy.  The kitchen is truly the heart of any home I've ever been in so on a chilly day (and a day off) I wanted to get my domestic freak on...

I'm going to be doing another batch of potato soup and it calls for crumbled bacon - awesome tip bake it at 350 degrees until done - it comes out perfect every time plus it heats up a hobbit kitchen...

Done to perfection and yes I do save bacon grease - a little goes a long way with other cooking :)

I have a friend and when either one of us frequents a farm market we grab garlic or other little yummies we think we may like...I always have suspicions as to garlic being radiated or not, you cannot truly tell until after you roast it - I can't explain it but there is a different smell to it.

I invested in this toaster/convection oven a while ago because I knew we would be doing the basement over (it's coming out splendidly I can't wait to show you!) and there will be a 'bar kitchen' down there (read possible rentable little one bedroom situation)  This little mighty appliance can cook chicken & bake bread!  I roasted the garlic in it while the bacon was cooking in the big stove because I didn't want either to 'absorb' the flavor of the other - I slice the top off the garlic head, drizzle w olive oil, sprinkle with kosher salt and put in a foil 'gift pack' twisted at top- 350 degrees for 40 min

This is the finished garlic!  It is a lovely golden color, sadly though they were irradiated because the smell was off - they can still be used but not in my weekly bread batch (or at all if you are fastidious about irradiated food)  The tip off should've been the empty cloves.  A true farm garlic will start to sprout, it can't help it.  I cook it green sprouts and all!  What can I say? I'm a sloppy garlic lover.  I think some are sold dried as well?  But this one had the tell tale signs - 

and when you love your little men the way I do - well go for the real deal.

Every week I brew 1-2 quarts of tea for my own iced tea.  This is a quart Ball Jar (because I LOVE Ball Jars!)  I suspend 6 tea bags tied to a wood skewer over the top, boil the water, pour and let it steep for an hour or more until cool.

This is a small (pint) Ball Jar I bring my tea to work in (everyday)  It started when I read some scary things about plastic being an endocrine disruptor.  Any little change is one in the right direction.  It isn't that much heavier and I'm reducing my waste stream.  Ball Jars are made to withstand pressure and boiling - they are workhorses, not delicate and honestly not that breakable either

      You may have noticed the computer in the background? My son rigged up an old main frame and flat screen so I can watch my vlogs and youtube things while I cook (I think the boys just feel secure when I spend hours in the kitchen?)  My favorites?   Old 'In search of" (history channel?) videos with Leonard Nimoy (yeah I know), Kirsten Dirksen Channel on YouTube which is a fair trade company that features Tiny Homes and intentional living practices from around the globe, Cold Antler Farm Vlog - which features Jenna talking about her life and farm (This is the farm I go to in NY state for 'classes' when I can! I also love Peak Moment, The Domestic Geek, River Cottage (the early years - where Hugh sets up a homestead along a river in Dorset (I think?) and learns sustainable practices - the UK is way ahead of this with these things!  Sometimes I will binge out and watch Netflix; The Vikings, Breaking Bad, American Horror Story, whatever.  Oh I am also a complete and helpless documentary nerd.  

It's my kitchen and I dig it - I am hoping to 're-do' it in the next month or so.  Nothing fancy just trying to get this place rentable - so I can get to my own dirt.  I've sourced old cabinets (instead of this arsenic (I'm sure) ridden factory rollout kitchen) I found an engineered (uber cheap) floor that will give it that scrappy look, Chalk paint for my the pie safe my dad made (this will hold potatoes, onions, garlic, my homemade wine and canning goods.  I've also got my eye on reclaimed wood slabs (again cheap - perhaps free!!!) for counter tops.  I'm happy about this because a few months ago I wasn't sure about the mortgage etc or keeping the place.  In that time though, I was able to psychologically divorce myself from the notion of home being a set place...home is where I roast my garlic, brew my wine and bake my bread.  It's an energy exchange.  It's wherever I am feeding the people I love.

One last tip!  When its a bit chilly and you are finished baking - leave the oven door open 

for the rest of the heat to escape and make your kitchen even more cozy...

Enjoy your home - but remember it is not four walls and things that make it home - it is you, your energy, and the love you give that makes it so.

Namaste

Success

Dark Days come

So does Dawn

And you realize;

Success is rarely

A Straight Line

The 6:47

It was 6:47 and I looked at her with compassion.  She needed a friend.  It had been a long, long time since I’d seen that look on her face.  It was a bit bewildered.  She told me she wasn’t quite sure what was going on…only that she felt different.  She wasn’t sure what this particular reckoning was about.

The Tornado.  It seemed over – but fuck, what a mess to be cleaned up.

I tried to calm her down.

I wanted to be a friend, but really; what on earth could I say?  Where could I start?

So I said the only thing I could, the only things that I could think of.

She wasn’t upset, she wasn’t crying, she wasn’t angry – she was…haunted.  Like one that wakes up mid dream in the woods and wonders why it’s cold because she’s still under a down comforter in bed, the night outside the glass.  The most dangerous thing to do is breathe – deeply -and live.

I found words for her.  I spoke soft but steady – like you would to a spooked animal that could pummel you to death, and even that - a soft caring voice - wouldn’t take that haunted look from the wild beasts’ eyes. 

Time.  She needed time. 

She needed calm.  A voice had to get through to her. 

I focused on her eyes even though she looked hollow.

“It won’t always be like this,” I said nodding.

“You are doing the best you can with what you’ve got.  God has a plan for you, a hope, and a future.”

She nodded slightly.

“But you need to keep going, toward that future because you can’t stay where you are.  You know that, I know you do.  You just can’t stay.”  I put my hand on my chest, she seemed to understand, and squinted a bit – for a moment I thought she might well up and tear, but she was stone.

“It won’t always be like this.  Right now will pass, I promise.

Just

Let it pass.”

“You feel totally alone; you always have though, haven’t you?”   The way her head moved passed for  an acquiescence.  “Your kids are good, better than good; you are doing a good job.”  She did tear up with that; I seemed to be getting through. 

“Just keep going, none of this other shit matters – one day it will all be history, every fucked up second of it.”  A tear slid and she bit her upper lip.  She gets angry at herself far too easy when she feels weak She gets confused when it’s quiet like this – when it’s just she and I.  No one, no one ever sees her.  Not like this.  Not haunted like this.  Never like this.

She took in a deep breath and blew out, like there were birthday candles.  She told her kids to do that when they were little – breathe and blow out candles when they would cry, it always seemed to work.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked

“I’m going to keep going.” She answered.

I nodded.

She nodded.

Then I went downstairs to get the Windex, realizing I had missed that mirror when I had cleaned this morning.

All the words are gonna bleed from me

And I will think no more

-The White Stripes

No Tells

11/6 - Past Midnight

Day of Full Moon

I know it is easy to deflect worry onto something in the form of anger.  Self awareness brings me here.  I am taking that into account, as well as the moon.

     Welcome to my free writing - it happens.  It's a bleed out, a soul purge, a long mental walk beyond tired and no turning back.  I make no apologies for myself when I am this raw and primal...

     Disappointment evolved into anger and anger has shifted to apathy which may be the worst emotion there is because its twin (should she survive that precipice of a birth canal) is complacency and she needs to be smothered on the table to save me.

     

    When I look around at what I do and the lives I am cosmically responsible for, I see my essence as a force multiplier - personality, ambition, passion, humor, brutal honesty, spirituality, and gumption.  I must be honest, as far as 'catches' go I am a prized horses ass.

     

     What on earth kind of crater am I sitting in?  I have said the same things over and over and it is only my voice echoing back.

     Consideration seems an impossibility, but let's face it my friend, relationships were never my strong point.  Would it be so much to suggest the minutiae?  Yes, I understand there is a timed contribution to keep it all going, but that doesn't buy the 'All about You' greatest hits, that's over there in the dollar bin now.

     After hours of work and a fresh bleached floor one should take their shoes off...unless, that is of course, that you don't care which is so blatantly obvious it is sitcom worthy.  I have the inside word... that season is about to be cancelled, it's just not holding the ratings like it used to.

     Your negative energy has left me an exhausted cheerleader, asleep under the bleachers.  And winter is coming.  

     

     I've closed the book on even a shitty greasy grilled cheese sandwich on a paper plate that I didn't make.  This armor I wear is so heavy, yet so comfortable.  This mask is fucking stifling.

     Some entities are givers, some are takers, so say the stars and my tea leaves.  

     When I walk into the forest I have only to forage for myself.  I only have myself to blame should I stray from the path and stumble into green endings.

     You work hard.  I have all my life, I've navigated hope and abuse in one fell swoop.  No voice left to state my case, no desire to waste precious breath at this age.

     You care for yourself the way a factory cares for a river it quietly pollutes day after day with no thought of tomorrow.  I have been a mother more than half of my life.  I am happy with the children I have.  I do not need anymore.  Mine are growing strong like oaks.  Some in the world never grow up.  They are selfish little beings sitting on stools at mahogany bars - children in grown up bodies.  Manipulation their only ace in the hand...'drink up'...'here here'

     You have turned your greatest dream into a dull gray night I turn from.

I had hopes before the volcano.  I hike across those cool lava fields solo now.

I gut my own meat.  I harvest my drink from the glacier sky.  I pray over the small seeds I planted as they sprout.  A lush forest will stand before me one day - soft, hopeful, and teeming.

You look at your hand again, your Ace.

I have no tells.

I'm finally all in for me.

I'm the long shot

The Full House

The one you didn't see coming.

The Royal Flush

I'll see you that bottle and raise you my worth in sea glass.

I never fold

Veil

I went walking before the world woke up today.

It was my weather.

Chill

Mist

Hidden.

I was able to obscure myself in the moist shadows, 

before anyone could see - before I could see - 

the ghosts that haunt my mind, my fiber.

The dreams that burn off with dawn.

The crows were out;

the scavengers of harvest.

And I; a scavenger of hope.

I wish there were somewhere to lay all I carry.

Someone to tell all that has happened.

I am but a grit of sand

In a saturated desert.

Memories aren't menus

You don't always get to choose your favorite meal

Just do the best you can with what you have.

Namaste

Circumstance does not make the man...it reveals him to himself - James Allen 1902

Sometimes...

I've been trying to keep up with emails!  Hello Ukraine! Definitely a first and so honored my blog has made it to you!! Thank you for reading!  We are truly all the same and one!

Just and update...
It is exams week and I want to beat my head against a wall.  I am so completely grateful to be in school but 4 classes was a big bite for me.  I'm keeping up ok and it is so amazing!  There is only one class that I am truly concerned about and I have been studying on and off for the past week for the exam tomorrow night.  Couple that with a 12 hour day of work today and all the other stuff in MOM INC, Crisy Inc, Walking Dead watcher and well thank God for insomnia is all I can say!

I've always been contradictory in nature and as the days dim early I find something in me has woken up - odd, I know.  I require less sleep (4-5 hours a night with the first 2 hard as hell - like a bomb could go off and I would just stay in slumber)  I am waking up when it is dark and roaming the streets for exercise at around 5AM.  I have been eating differently which has given me more energy.  I'm curbing false energy (coffee) which on a Monday in a busy medical office had me ready to stick a line in my neck to infuse some java...but I'm working on it...

I missed an assignment in school because the due dates were flipped and confusing and I honestly had to laugh - all those days I cut high school and now in college missing an assignment I wanted to cut myself - I guess you do grow up sometime?  Idk the jury is still out on that one...

The boys are great - My William is back in the gym lifting and is so handsome I question his genetics in relation to myself - My Michael, equally handsome, is mastering the guitar (on his own - thank you Popa Loggie for the play-by-ear gene, yes it ended up in a left handed Mickey) and he recently completed his first 5K (coming in 14 out of 121 runners - ummm holy shit!)  My dog is still psychotic and in her old age her teeth are going crooked (i.e. hysterical)

The $ is rough right now but I got this school thing locked down as far as assignments go (even though I missed one -tenacity baby) and so I have decided (because ends are not being met) to work an extra 10 or so hours a week whilst going to school FT and still practicing my homesteading crap (hello hard cider)  It won't be easy but I have been expending far too much energy in worry over bills & $ and I can carve out an extra 10 hours to feel like my face is out of water while I am treading it.

Halloween is upon us (read my Celtic Christmas) and I will be a witch (43 years running).  Candy will be sparse because groceries had to be bought for day to day, but I had a very 'adult' feeling a very 'grown up' notion and it was this...

I can make it through because I am the head of this family (even though I have a vagina) I can pull up the reins and reel in the spending for the greater good.  10 years ago I wouldn't have been able to say that.  As a side note it was 10 years ago this Oct. that I became divorced and married myself in a civil service where only I attended.  10 years.  Blink

I laid in bed the other morning and had a thought....
I had lived in a gorgeous older home in 'Old Vernon' after I was married and for a couple of years after my divorce I would imagine winning a lottery and buying that beautiful old home back off my ex husband.  And the other day I lay in bed looking out at the mountains and had an epiphany of sorts...Today I would never buy that home.  Never.  I'm just not that person anymore - and I am ok with that.  I am on a different path.  Don't ever underestimate the power of a thought or a moment - you can change your entire life in a moment of decision...I know...because I have done it.

I have achieved a strange reckoning with myself.  I know me.  I like me.  Hell, I may even love me - but more than that I know exactly who I am and THAT is a power I never imagined being blessed with - Oh! if only I could've had this peace 20 years ago - but a smart woman once told me, the journey is all.  I believe her now.

I trust me.
I have balls (not really but you know what I mean)
I'm gonna make it.
I'm happy.
I have dreams both awake and asleep.
I'm excited about my life.

I wish and pray the same for you.
Think about it.  Love yourself - you are the only one that is truly with you until the end.
We are the stuff of stars - yet we aim for the moon.  We are dust and it sparkles and it runs in the blood, our laughter and excitement never cease, they just expand into the nothingness and then further still.

I pray for you.  Love.  Trust Love for yourself, of yourself, of tomorrow - yes Virginia it is real.

Namaste.

The apple or the tree?

"Mom the house was so warm last night...I just couldn't sleep."

"So what did you do?"

"I went out on the patio you made for me...I sat in the Adirondack chair...it was like 2AM.  I felt better in the dark ya know, the night, the air.  I sat for a long time - some of the geese they honk at night.  I went in and fell asleep, I think I just needed that night air ya know?  That cold."

"Yes I know."

That apple didn't fall far from the tree.

At least we did that right.  The kids.  We got that right.  How can I be in a room full of people and still be alone.  Aw shit...I stumbled into loneliness...fueled by a bit of red wine...

I was due to pay the piper - I pay him in installments it seems.

Is it an act I wonder?  Are we half the people we once were?  Do you get that more than once on these voyages?  I feel on the brink of it...sometimes.  Like a glance or a glimpse.

DAMN YOU

What are we doing?

Today I wake late.  My body and mind need more bedding down.  The sky is thick and white, gathering to gray over the rounded tired spine of the mountains.  I hear a lone goose calling from the swamp due east, all the birds seem chittering and confused.  I download an app, a compass, for the sake of nostalgia.  I realize at any time my true North may be compromised with it.  I have little faith in the workings and intent of man.  I'd make a real one had I silk and a needle.

My skin wants to walk the forest, hopeful the rain will come soon.  The lake writes to me on the wind, like a distant lover in a modern war of civility.  I cannot meet today.  I promise; maybe tomorrow.  It laps on a cooling ground in wait.  

I must trudge to work, the light of the sky begs me not to go to the light of man.  Coin creates unnatural slaves.  My essence sits with the water, in tomorrow.

You never can tell how close you are, it may be near when it seems afar...

Quick blog post - GOOD NEWS!

1)  SIGH OF RELIEF news came through that all my student loans and grants were approved as well as dispersed!  Smooth sailing $ wise until I graduate in May!

I remember a few weeks ago (before school started) I was terrified - I could've dropped some classes to make it affordable, but then wouldn't have been a full time student which would have rendered me ineligible for a grant - If I stayed registered for the full time and the loans/grants didn't go through I would have had to drop classes but it would have been late and I would have still been responsible for paying for classes I wasn't taking.  If I had taken only 2 classes and paid out of pocket the financial hit would have been a complete disaster to this household and would have extended my graduation by another year.  I prayed, I cried, I walked through that and did all I could - Faith felt like a gamble, but I got the news that on the 7th it all went through, all approved, $ dispersed education paid for! (and the spring semester is safe as well!)

2) THE MOTHER LOAD. I have been working on the mortgage modification for about a year (most likely more than a year)  I did not have the $ to hire an attorney so I relied on everything I had learned during my realtor days.  My goal was to get the payment down so that when the kids turn 18 (which William will in March) and the child support no longer comes in, some of the financial burden of a house that is no longer valued at what I purchased it for will be alleviated.  I also wanted to put this to bed and time it so that when the $ for the kids is lowered  I will hopefully have graduated (which I will in May) and be earning more of a livable wage in a career vs. job. After 4 months of $ going back and forth ($ being rejected & sent back) via wire payments in Walmart  (read at the courtesy counter in front of the whole world) while they count out 4k in $20's (kill me) then it goes through only to have it rejected 3 days later where you have to go retrieve it IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE WORLD only to return a couple of weeks later to do it again X4 with more $ each time (Well the desire to make it work trumped the shame of doing that, pride swallowed and digested whole, I kept on going).   The phone rang this morning for yet another appointment with my 'loan relationship manager' who had the wonderful news that the timing was perfect and it all went through on the 7th  I asked her to repeat this...twice.  The payment was lowered by $500.  FINAL.

These were goals years in the making.  Thank you God and Amen.

***Incidentally the 7th of October was the day I raised my hand in class and was handed a brochure for the Masters Program at University. .. No coincidences.

Namaste

Keep Going

Today I know money will come.  It will be for the better and easier to know when it is my money from my labor that comes in.  I woke up early (4AM) with a sort of converging fear.  I’ve been here before.  In order to do what I am doing these few precious months I’ve had to slice work schedules.  I am down to one job and a full load at school.  I feel myself clawing from the inside out.

The other day I sustained an unforeseen financial smack in the form of ANOTHER towed car.  Last spring I purchased a Jeep.  Much like the Jeep I had purchased after I shrugged off an overly materialistic life and sold a Mercedes that kept breaking down – sounds ridiculous right?  Even now I feel like that life was some misty vision.  When I bought that Jeep it did something to me.  It gave me a sense of self one cannot describe.  It was purchased, paid for, in good working order, and it was mine.  I loved that car – yes, I mean I loved the car, but I loved more what it represented; freedom.

It became my makeshift camper – I even made screens for the windows so I could sleep in it or hang out and read in fresh air.   It became my hauler – many a piece of furniture got dragged off of someone’s lawn and pushed in its bay.  The car had my back in the form of 4 wheel drive.  I got ‘stuck’ more than once, but 'unstuck' more than that.  The car had my heart at hello.  So I found one last spring for $600 (that runs!) but needs work.  

Well, they were sealcoating in my development last week and she was parked in the wrong place at the wrong time (much like her owner at many points in my life)  so ‘they’ (the proverbial evil ‘they’ that represent suck bags everywhere) towed her.  She had it coming, I knew she did.  She a bad inspection sticker (I’ve been trying to put $ together for exhaust system repairs), her plasti-dip body (my kids run amuck), and she had been taking up space…the wrong space.  So they towed her.  My son called me while I was in class to let me know as he discovered that she had vanished.  F*CK

$300 to get her back (less than 24 hours later).  $300 I certainly didn’t have.  When I asked someone close for help in the form of ‘put this on your credit card until Thur and I will give it right back,’ I was met with negativity and abrasiveness.  Noted.

My son contacted (of all people) the ex-husband who has more $ than the Pharaoh King Tut and within an hour all was taken care of.  Noted.  I was touched when he endearingly (for him) called to tell me he knew exactly what ‘those piece of shit’ cars mean to me.  He also said he understood what I am currently trying to do (school) even though he doesn’t agree with it (because I should’ve stayed married to him and I wouldn’t have needed anything else in life…sigh) and he wanted me to know that he knows I am sitting in shit.  Sitting.  I still know him better than anyone to understand what he means.

We all sit in things; jobs, friendships, relationships, complacency, many times far longer than we should.  He was right and for him, 2 out of 3 is a perfect score.  So help arrived in the strangest of vehicles.  Help arrived in most gruff yet tender of ways. To someone like him, $300 means very little; to someone like me $300 was a total ass-saver.  I’ve never been good with accepting help it is the hardest thing for me to do.

The next few months will be like this – a bit less than one FT job – a full course load where I am carrying 3 A’s and a fourth class that is so hard it could be the wild card to wreck my GPA.  Naysayers lurk everywhere (even in the shadows of my mind).  ‘You’ll have a hard time finding work’ well that has yet to happen, it may not have always been the work I wanted but it was work.  Sometimes it had been work without purpose, which can feel like toil, but there has been work.  ‘You’ll never make any real money.’  Define real money?  Honestly I’ve learned to live on so much less and still be ok, I know anything above where I am currently will feel like a lottery.  If I couple that feeling with actually doing something my soul believes in, I will be the richest woman in the world – even if I wind up in a rented room somewhere, which I think sometimes a rented room wouldn’t be half bad – especially if it had a fireplace.  ‘You are older; this is stuff young kids do.’  That, my friends, is horseshit.  I just met a student in her late 60s.  And the mother of a friend of mine graduated at 83, because it was 'one of those things' for her.  I get that.  When I go in the box there will be instructions to throw that degree in with me.

I have to keep going.  I cannot let my mind be poisoned by naysayers and negativity.  I will not believe the life I am in now is the life I shall remain in.  That this story; my story, (with some of the main characters as undesirable as tumors) is destined for anything other than happiness.  I have converging fear, but I will keep moving forward.  There is no logical reason all of this is working out, yet it is.  God and the universe have opened doors I didn’t even know where there.  I have hard work on my side and when I fall asleep sitting up at the dinner table (yes it happens) I have faith that carries me to bed and wakes me up again.  I cannot and will not accept the easy way out.  I came this far and I’m going to make it count.  A diamond was just a piece of coal that stuck around, under a hell of alot of pressure.

Last night, before class, a PhD came in to talk with us about our upcoming graduations in the spring.  She had brochures on Masters Degrees.  The dawn in the next day?  Maybe...

I need to remember, it is always darkest before the dawn.

Goethe said: “the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.”  Prov-i-dence (prov’i dens) n. 1.(often cap.)  The foreseeing care and Guidance of God or nature.

The Universe rewards action.  Keep going.

Namaste.

What LIES beneath

I found myself awake at 3AM which is normal for me except there was a direction to this blip on the insomnia radar.  The focus I woke up with, sat straight up in bed with, grabbed a pen and notebook with, lit a candle and sat in the bathtub with, was my heart.

Maybe I'm feeling my age?  Maybe.  Maybe I've just gotten used to feeling nothing at all? Maybe. Maybe my strength is a Halloween mask.  Maybe.  Maybe I'm on the brink of something. Likely.

But I know when I wake up with that much force, that much direction, my being that walks the night air is trying to get something through to me.

I began a journal entry with all the perfunctory things that I should be doing for my health, in particular my heart health.  I made a list of stops and starts.  (i.e. stop eating late at night, stop stressing so much, stop with butter...start planning better, start eating 'clean' meals, start upping your fiber etc etc)

Then the list of better choices ensued and ones that I would actually intake on a daily basis (read: I'm not a salmon girl, save your $ it's just not in the cards for me)  So after that list came the all encompassing "Manage your Stress' heading and then my hand stopped on the page.  Free writing took over, just began spilling out of me like the hypnotic steaming faucet of bath water that has always calmed me.  And what follows, is what I believe to be (if you will)  the heart of the matter...

Your heart was hurt when you were small.

So you learned to hurt others.

Your safety was violated 

over and over again.

So you blocked it.

Your heart was hurt from an innocent childhood lack

it was a toy thrown away

So one day YOU threw YOU away.

Your heart was hurt with your first love,

his was too, but your heart was all you knew.

Your heart was light and safe for a while

then strangled and crushed under the weight of 

not happily ever after.

So you pushed it further away, your heart that was hurting you.

If you could have ripped it out and threw it in a glass shard gutter to get the hurt gone

YOU WOULD HAVE.

Your heart sang with Baby #1 and then became a chorus with Baby #2.

It almost broke you; the fear of that happiness for you never had known that your heart could do that.

Then your heart hurt when you knew you had to go it alone.

So you built a wall, a layer, and another to tuck your heart away.

Only the boys, your angels, could scale that wall and get to you.

You tried again twice for happy ever after and your heart was disappointed and lonely both times.

You breathe loneliness with a laugh, that hides a choke, that hides a tear...every day.

And that little girl heart came to visit because the grownup you are was the only one

she trusted

to tell the truth to.

And here you sit.

With your layers.

And your walls.

Never realizing the self perpetuating light that your heart really is.

All that.  All this.

And still it beats.

Maybe what you never had

was with you the whole time.

Quietly beating this whole time.

Quietly waiting this whole time.

Maybe it was just you...

Maybe you were the one.

The only one.

The only one that mattered.

Maybe it was you the whole time

that needed to love

your heart.

Namaste

Ask

Well fall is in full swing here at the shire!  There is so much going on and sometimes it's just too much, but we take it as we can.  It seems once the light changes and the dim mornings hit, it's full speed ahead toward the chill.  I, being Celtic, am completely fine with the chill - I love my morning walks and can tell you I am the last one to put a sweater on.

The boys are back in school and doing fine.  William graduates in spring and his path is pretty set for the next couple of years (thank God).  Michael has 3 years of highschool left.  I worried most about him after the injury in January because sports, in the traditional sense, changed drastically for him.  I must admit I breathed a sigh of relief when each son opted out of football.  William wanted to work with his father  and Michael didn't want to do iFB without his brother, and the bone dr told him healing takes at least a full year - I think that truly sunk in for him.  He has been doing wonderful 'Michael things' though.  He began running and was up to 6 miles a day, then had a small (safe but heart pounding) encounter with a bear.  So that restricted his 'off time' runs (read: 1 AM when he can't sleep...gee...insomnia - sorry kid I think it might be genetic at this point)  He's taken his longboarding to olympic like mastery and has recently decided he wants to be musical like his uncle and is now spending hours upon hours with a guitar.  He is a very interesting person by nature and I am glad he's become a bit more 'within and present'  who knew a horrifically broken arm could fix some things?

I am back in school FT and adjusting...trying to adjust...begging to adjust.  I am taking 4 classes this fall and two are pretty heavy brain/work wise, and my general employment has been off the hook in terms of busy and sucking the life out of you.  I dig my job but the level it's gotten to with multi-tasking-always smiling-non-stop-crazy is taking a bit of a toll.  I need there to be something left to deal with school.  Basically I am exhausted, however I am playing the mind game...I'll sleep tonight...ok friday...ok maybe next week...hell this only has 12 more weeks left, I'll sleep through winter! Case in point - I sat down to do homework the other day and emerged 7, yes 7, SEVEN hours later and just started crying - like a kid in a grocery store that throws themselves on the floor crying.  It passed.  But still...

I understood I was giving my all for every assignment - trying to do the very best work and a young classmate told me - 'just get it done and bang out the exams and final papers.'  'But I want to do my best' I told him.  'They don't want your best they just want you to vomit what they give you back to them.'    The joys of learning according to a 22 year old.

But I do enjoy it, I truly do.  But it is hard when you're Mom, Working like a crazy girl, when you run the house, clean the house (don't look in my closets), are trying to renovate the house to possibly rent it out in the spring, when you are still working with the mortgage company, when you are trying to navigate student loans-grants-tuition payments, when you making sure there is toilet paper (another blog), when you are dealing with your own health, praying for the kids, keeping the dog alive, and planning the next 5 years.  But I asked for more and I'm guessing this is what it takes.

Tuesday night I was in my Linguistics and Grammar class (read like learning chinese) but it started to make sense and I got that little inkling "see silly you CAN do this!"  And I thought ok you are here asking for more - more life - more future - more of a liveable wage when done - more brains - more insight - more knowledge - YOU ASKED FOR IT GIRL THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES.  I could've been home watching the latest reality TV but I'm not where I need to be (according to me) in my life so I forgo those things to do this.  incidentally I gave the correct answers in class, the prof is a random call on students type so every class is a firing squad....but I asked for it.

Thursday nights find me in a Magazine and Book publishing class which is outrageously fascinating!  Insight is given to being a freelance writer (which I am tucking away) as well as the evolution of everything in print having one foot in digital.  I dig the class, however it is deadline oriented (read coffee and stress) and meticulous.  How I became a senior with an English major and writing concentration with questionable grammar really pisses me off.  So relearning all of that sucks major and is a true blow to the ego...but I asked for it.

Those were the two classes that were required, the other 3 I need to graduate are offered in Spring (ok so I'll sleep in summer?)  But I was still required to have a full course load to meet my credit requirements and I had two electives I could take (anything you want under the sun).  I wasn't looking for easy, I wanted interesting.  Get this: 1) Shamans, Witches, and Healers throughout history (!!!) 

2) Folktales and Folklores (swoon!).  They were both offered online, both taught by the same professor (an anthropologist who has done extensive field study around the globe TOTALLY INTERESTING!!!!)  They have proven my salvation, however, the work load is extensive.  I would gather to say - all in all class time and assignment time for the four classes is somewhere around 24-28 hours a week - I shit you not....but I asked for it.

And somewhere in all of this it's Fall - one of my favorite times of the year.  Harvest.  Chill.  Hard Cider.  I am determined to take those teenage boys apple picking, and fully enjoy Halloween!  This house will get finished, crappy carpets will get ripped up, walls will get painted, and I will just keep on keeping on.  I am grateful beyond words at the opportunity I have right now.  In a down market making less $ than I ever have with more challenges than I ever imagined - I am happy.  And that my friends is the ultimate currency.  God is good.  I want to leave you with this little saying that I committed to memory after William was born 17 years ago...

I bargained with Life for a penny

But Life would pay no more

But Oh! How I begged every evening

when I counted my scanty score.

For Life is a just employer,

she will give you what you ask.

But once you set the price, well then, you must bear the task.

I bargained with Life for a penny,

only to learn dismayed, 

that any price I would have asked of Life

Life would have willingly paid.

Ask for more for your life...you are worth it

Namaste

Taught before the stars

When something resonates you just know

In my everyday waking dreams I am always reaching toward the water in some capacity.  A walk by the water, a meditation by the water, a kayak ride on the water, the sound of a candle lit bath, the rain on my skin...and the dreams bleed out.

Today in my Anthropology studies, I read a comment, then highlighted it, and now I will share it...

The Dream Cult of the Iroquois...

They had no divinity but the dream...

 But of course

Namaste

Always two sides

A spiritual forgetfulness co-existed with an intellectual remembrance. She walked in brightness, but she knew that in the background those shapes of darkness were always spread. They might be receding, or they might be approaching, one or the other, a little every day.

-Thomas Hardy 1891

Harbinger of Dreams

Again you are upon us.  I should have known.  You render my nights day.  Tonight you are full, but last night you came to call.

Harbinger of dreams, both prophetic and of other realms.

I rounded the end of the staircase.  It's dark walnut banister smooth in my hand. The hall was whitewashed. I was gleeful, heading to the small expanse of porch as I heard the truck.   I had the agility and excitement of a young girl - in an old womans body.  

They were coming to be fed.  To be loved.  I could not wait to show them the gardens, the chickens, the goats.  The dream.  They pulled up and got out of the vehicle.  The two most exquisite creatures I had ever laid my eyes on.  I believe my eyes had been created among the stars just to see their faces. Every cosmic word ever uttered was for them.  Nothing but love.  Nothing anything could ever tarnish.

My boys.

What dreams will you bring tonight in your fullness, Harbinger?  Will you leave me weeping and bittersweet again.  I wait for you.

Namaste

My love affair...

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. 
The man who never reads lives only one.”

― George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

    When I was a young girl (12 yrs. old) I lived across a town highway and up a treacherous hill and down a main neighborhood road (i.e. cars going 20mph above a restricted speed limit) from a new library.  The summer between 6^th and 7th grade I would wake up, have a breakfast of Cheerios and look at the clock, timing the long walk to the great escape that was the library.  If you have ever read the book or seen the movie Matilda…well…that pretty much sums it up.

“She'd become an English major for the purest and dullest of reasons: 

because she loved to read.” 
― Jeffrey Eugenides

     I was not a nerd in the traditional sense…I was more of a closet nerd...I still am.  I was a very isolated child in many ways; geographically we lived far from extended family and personally my upbringing was wrought with a father that was a bit 'overwhelmed' we shall say, and a mother that fell into debilitating illness sporadically.  I had my little brother who truly was the brightest star in the night that was the ordeal of my childhood.  Books were my escape, my life lesson, my teachers, my friends, my hopes, my fears, my warnings, and my dreams.  They still are.

My most beloved of books - The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Featuring the highly visceral and resonating art of Gustave Dore

A life changing tale for sure - Thank you Mrs. Kaicher (English Teacher Supreme)

     I gave this point a lot of thought after writing my Labor Day post.  My children mock me about my love affair with libraries, but they do understand (because I have taught them) that there are certain inalienable truths to the human being that you are and the hand that you were dealt.  And as long as the coping skills of that hand do not harm you or others – so be it. 

Seriously go get your ‘weird’ on, whatever that may be.

     I could have been someone that raised earthworms, or a storm chaser, or a fungus collector, instead, I became a lifelong secret mistress of the library.  By the 6^th grade I had pretty much learned the Dewey decimal system; it was like a fixed set of stars with which to navigate by.  I could be anywhere and if I needed to look up a certain subject, I knew what aisle to head for.  The card catalog (remember those?) was like a treasure trove for me.  The hushed voices within the walls of the library lent an almost monastic quality to my time there. 

“The reader, the booklover, must meet his own needs without paying too much attention to what his neighbors say those needs should be.”

― Theodore Roosevelt

     I remember being deeply disturbed in the fourth grade when I discovered the story about the burning of the Library of Alexandria in Egypt.  The loss of records and culture stunned me.  I glanced at my class mates in alarm, they remained unaffected.  (Closet Nerd Sign #1.)

     I remember being outraged at the concept of censorship in high school.  ‘The List’ of books that many schools were secretly not allowed to carry fueled a private investigation of my own schools' library to make sure we carried them.  I found many of them had been ‘lost’ and never replaced.  Exasperated I addressed this with the librarian. (Closet Nerd Sign #2.)

“Though I enjoy the occasional eBook from time to time, I will only stop reading books printed on paper when they pry them from my cold, dead, withered hands, and even then, 

they will be hard pressed to take them from me.”

― H.L. Stephens

     Now I am not one to negate the advancement of my species.  And I have downloaded the kindle app on my laptop for school purposes.   But I must say, it pisses me off to no end that kindle books are cheaper than the real thing.  It’s like (for me) the difference between a true friend and a virtual one.  And I struggle with this, yes, struggle (Closet Nerd Sign #3). I understand production costs, delivery costs, fuel costs, and recycling issues etc. etc. – but GOOD GOD PEOPLE – THESE ARE BOOKS!  WHAT ARE WE TO DO IF WE NEED TO JUMP START HUMANITY ONE DAY?? (Closet Nerd Sign #4)

“Crisy you read so voraciously, why don’t you invest in a separate kindle?”

 

“Look at all those books – how many trees had to die?” 

     Hmmm …consider this; how many ideas were launched with the written circulated word? Books in secret? Books passed in hushed tones on back roads? Not bits of 'data' but Books - without an electronic footprint or record?  (True freedom.)  Books without an algorithm tracing my preferences and feeding me info, pitching me goods and future purchases based on my reading?  DO NOT FEED ME, ALGORITHMS, FOR I AM FULL!  (Closet Nerd Sign #5)

     I can read a book by candle light, I can smell the essence of the page.  I smell its ink and that slight acrid mildew when a good read has been wintered over in a lake house, waiting to be rediscovered when the sun of summer returns.  I can take a book in the pool, on a raft and should it get wet I can dry it and read it again.  I can fall asleep as a book gently slides from my hands, across my body like a lover, landing with a soft bump on my carpet.  I can throw a book (chemistry text-very heavy -good for the aggression). I can hold a book, caress a book, gift a book, underline, write in, and add notes to, quotes to, and exclamations to a book.  The list goes on and on.  I can tear a page from a book, embed it in a sealed bottle, drop it into the sea and have it wind up on distant shores, or my own, after 100 years of bobbing about.  Try that with your electronic device.

      I still have my first copy of Gone With The Wind, The Catcher In The Rye, and Dante’s Inferno – all have achieved shrine like status on my shelf.  I have an old Bible I grabbed at a yard sale with ornate gorgeous hand writing documenting a family from the 1800’s, signed by the mother of the daughter that received it upon her death.  Who gives a shit you may ask?  I do.  (Closet Nerd Sign #6)

     Am I old?  Am I being passed up by innovation?  I think not.  I just know what books mean to me, what pages do for me.  I use my computer and iPhone to read blogs, watch vlogs, and browse magazines.  But when it comes down to the staples, the basics, the brass tacks, my moral compass, everything that makes me human, and my own North Star?…Well…It’s a book for me, for sure, every time.  Always and forever.  And that my friends is the greatest love story I've ever known.

“Maybe reading was just a way to make her feel less alone, to keep her company. When you read something you are stopped, the moment is stayed, 

you can sometimes be there more fully than you can in your real life.”

― Helen Humphreys, Coventry

Namaste

On House Sitting...

“Crisy, pack your bags and come help me house sit this weekend.”

“I can’t,” I said, “It’s the last weekend before school and I should stay here for the boys.  And besides I don’t want to be on the Parkway of all places around Labor Day!”

“Oh God you’re up at 3AM anyway, just leave early you can be down here by lunch.”

“I can’t leave the boys.” 

But at 17 and 15 years old, the boys had their own directions they were going in.  They had BBQ invites and they would be with their father for a day or so.  They really just wanted to hang out with some friends and relax before school started…

“Crisy you’ve been sad…you would love it here!  I have to work 2 of the days so you would be on your own.  You could visit your favorite library with on the beach, or go on your frigen spiritual walks; maybe over that bridge you love?  The owners have a huge garden, a private yard, a pool, a gourmet kitchen you can cook in, a bar, and you would have your own room!”

“They have a pool?”

“Yes, come down!”

“I would have my own room?”

“Yes, like a little bed and breakfast.  Come down!”

“Ok, I’ll pack.”

And that is how my Labor Day went. 

Every time… Every single time I need a break, a respite, an escape the phone rings and it’s some new adventure for sure.  I’ve been so lucky like that, honestly.  And I find the more I stay open to such things – the more they frequent my life. 

I put down the glass of wine to take this pic :)

And this month was ROUGH $ wise.  I mean way rough.  Like I’m hitting my prepper closet and getting very creative to feed everyone rough.  Rough like “Gee, do we need electricity this month or gas?” (Electricity always wins as you can heat water in a microwave) 

I went down with $40 in my gas tank and $40 in my pocket…I spent 4 days there...and came home with $11.  Broke but lucky.  And what would have been the use of staying home and worrying myself out of countless hours of sleep (which is the norm for me)?  I needed self-care - let’s face it no one takes care of me I just don’t let them (this is a character flaw I'm fully aware of and it will most likely never change).   I needed a bit of isolation with a dose of anonymity, and I needed it in a place where I couldn’t do anything – where there wasn’t any laundry piling up, or dishes calling me, or repairs necessary.

I'm always in awe as to the generosity of a plant that will just keep giving and giving - there were 25 tomato plants, and countless varieties of beans, peas, and peppers.  

A patch of corn and potted plants of various cooking herbs delighted the senses

“The owner said to take whatever we want out of the garden.  But not the peas, she is letting those go to seed.”  

“She saves seeds?”

“She does, and she cans her own sauce.  You would love her.”

And she was right.  As soon as I entered the house I was in love, because in every nook and cranny you could feel love.   It wasn’t a mansion mind you, it was a regular house.  But it was a regular house that was well thought out, well organized and intentionally lived in.  It worked.

It didn’t hurt that the owner is a creative type, an artist of sorts.  The colors flowed beautifully.  The kitchen was just enough gourmet and just enough cozy.  There was a spectacular addition with a pub-like bar that touched my inner Celtic.  I was instantly comfortable. 

Out the back slider you stepped down to a patio and then a huge expanse of lawn greeted you with flowering trees, hummingbird friendly bushes, and a 30’ above ground pool.  IT. WAS. HEAVEN.

The second day I took the drive to my favorite library on the ocean.  Both my children find it comically disturbing that no matter where we travel – I will find and haunt a library.  That’s just me. 

Labor Day, families and friends with bright towels and umbrellas.  

The me that is ME was completely fine with the status of lone observer

 I purchased 4 books at the used book sale for a combined total of $2.00.  I sat on the upper level of the building that looked out over the beach.  When I tell you that being surrounded by books and words with a view of the sea is nothing short of soul food – believe me.  When I left I headed to the store and bought chicken and lemons to make a spectacular francaise as well as a fresh baguette to create a garden tomato balsamic soaked side dish.  I drank wine happily as I prepared the simple feast.  To cook as a stranger in a beautiful space is both humbling and erotic in its own right.

My Liquid Peace

I dozed when my body requested sleep – be it on a raft in the pool, a lazy hammock under pine trees, or an over sized recliner with the spa music channel softly playing.  I drank ice water constantly, realizing how dehydrated my body and soul had been.  I took salted baths with candles.  I retired early to a fluffy bed that scandalously was not my own.  It was a delicious four days.

My boys missed me, but they were fine.  I missed them but I was becoming fine.

I returned to them a better mom, refreshed and ready for the shorter days that lay ahead, grateful for my friends, spontaneous adventures, and the cosmic privilege to be a temporary queen in a borrowed kingdom...

House-sit if you can…trust me on this one.

Namaste