Good News

Well, well, well. Almost one year exactly since my last post. It truly is amazing what all can happen in just 12 months.

I am indescribably happy to report that I am sitting on our porch, listening to the birds and the water, the wind and the windchimes, feeling the breeze and the warm sunlight. OUR porch. On the family property. Yes, we finally pulled it off. :) This wonderful place is home.



It took a few more weeks after I wrote my last post, but we did find some renters for our house. We had to accept a reduced rent but at least they have been good tenants so far. Once that was settled, it took a good 3 months to jump through all the mortgage hoops in order to secure financing to pay off Billy's siblings. We moved in the beginning of October 2012. I still have trouble believing we managed it- it definitely would not have been possible without help from all quarters, including our real estate agent, our mortgage broker who was nothing short of amazing, and of course our incredible friends who supported our quest through to completion. We are forever grateful.



Of course moving in, as difficult as it was to achieve, is still only the beginning! A property like this requires a lot of maintenance, and on top of that we have wonderful plans for improving it and truly making it our home.



We've begun remodeling to the interior of the house, and I am hard at work building and maintaining a large vegetable garden in the field.



There are all the usual adjustments to moving a family, plus we are sort of rebuilding our lives after having everything on hold for 2 years. On top of all that we are still piloting our business through some of the toughest financial times we've sailed it through, and while the sky there is clearing we still have a way to go. Sometimes it seems a bit overwhelming, but then I take my coffee out onto the porch in the morning and I remember all over again what a gift and a blessing it is to be here and to be caretaker of this incredible legacy.



(All photos were taken by me with a Motorola Atrix 2 cellphone 8MP camera, except: the family portrait- for that I used the camera phone to snap a picture of the professional print, which is from a chain portrait studio- and the picture of me mixing grout, which was taken by my friend Jeff.)

Fog

Foggy, misty, mysterious when
Shimmering halos adorn every light
The very air, soft, kisses your skin
Gentle caresses of water take flight

Unseen things seem to lurk
Just past my eye's periphery
Dancing magic in the murk,
Or just mine eyes' trickery?

Huckleberry Knob Adventure

The next morning of our Robbinsville trip dawned grey and very rainy. We'd expected to hike, so a change of plans was in order. We hunted up a great little bookstore/cafe/wine store (yes, really!) in Andrews, North Carolina, and spent the morning browsing books before enjoying a delicious cafe lunch. By the time we'd finished, the weather had cleared up enough that we decided to go for a hike after all.


We drove up to Huckleberry Knob on the Cherohala Skyway in the Unicoi Mountains. Huckleberry Knob is the highest point in the Cheoah Ranger District, at 5560 ft elevation. It's a nice easy hike with a stunning panorama at the top.

We set out for the first bald, Oak Knob. The views there were already gorgeous, but we noticed some threatening rain clouds moving in. Billy and I decided to press on anyway- we wanted to get to the top!

We hurried to Huckleberry Knob, but prudently decided to skirt the summit and remain closer to the treeline. Lightning can be unpredictable and quite dangerous in that area! We stopped for a quick snack.


Just seconds after this photo was taken, I turned to Billy as we were packing up. "Do you hear that?", I asked. We listened intently for a moment with a dawning realization. "Is that wind in the trees, or is it. . .", and POW! We were slammed with the approaching wall of rain.

We scrambled to get the boys into ponchos and rain jackets as fast as we could. We did pretty well, except we were one jacket short. So I grabbed Billy's BC Australian hat to keep the rain out of my face, and swam through the atmosphere in my jeans and shirt. I was soaked, but it was a blast!

By the time we'd slogged back to Oak Knob, the rain was already leaving us. One horizon sported billowy clouds breaking apart to reveal blue sky behind, and the other revealed a full arch of rainbow, stunning against the retreating grey storm.

We stopped, reluctant to end our outing if the weather was going to dry out.

Soon enough, the rain ended altogether and the afternoon sun transformed the wet grass into a stunning display of scattered diamonds. We dried out for awhile in the sun and mountain breeze, and then decided to try again for Huckleberry Knob's summit.

The view was appropriately stunning. 360 degrees of mountains greeted us, complete with rich cream clouds running over the peaks and puddling into the valleys. Everywhere around we could see the weather changing before our eyes.




We settled in to enjoy ourselves, admiring the views, running and playing, communing with the wind, taking pictures, relaxing and (for Billy and I) making a toast to a fabulous couple of days.


It was absolutely a transformative experience, a time that I will never forget.





Finally, reluctantly, we packed up and hiked out, tired and fulfilled.

* * * * *
The next day would bring a drive home, and a meetup with Billy's Mom and two Aunts for dinner. It was a wonderful little visit. It would be the last time we saw Nora alive. This trip turned out to be an essential repairing and rejuvenating tonic for our souls that helped us to weather the storm ahead.
* * * * *

See more Skywatch photos from all over the world! Visit http://skyley.blogspot.com/

Summer Night's Implosion

The other night, we ate out for dinner. Afterwards, Billy took all the boys to go to Grandma's house, and I came home. All. By. Myself. Ahh.

Driving home, I had the windows rolled down to catch the cooler night air. The temperature gauge read 84 degrees F, but compared to daytime temps it was right refreshing. The dense summer air was a sun-warmed stream washing over me, not icy but still wonderfully cool and pleasant, caressing my face and arms and tossing my hair.

The peace of being by myself is almost overwhelming. I really have a rather solitary nature, though I have learned to be a lot more social since becoming an adult. My solitary tendencies are viciously squashed during this stage of my life, as I spend every moment with other people, mostly small persons who depend on me heavily. From the outside, it must seem fairly simple to carve out a little alone time in my days- stealing some moments while the children are sleeping or busy. However even in these brief respites, I am in demand. At any instant, I am likely to be called upon. At every instant, I am calculating, managing, thinking ahead. It is only when they leave my presence entirely, safe in responsible hands, that I'm suddenly reminded what it's really like to be by myself. My bodily needs are the only bodily needs I must concern myself with. Other duties may call, but my thoughts are my own. It's really quite drastic.

I slowed down along Main St, admiring the old overhanging oak branches and the golden glow of the streetlights. The intense humidity refracted the lights, giving each one its own halo, softening the light into something more akin to fireflies than lightbulbs. I smiled, picturing the regimental parade of fireflies, marching down Main Street in celebratory fashion. The crickets chirped a jaunty summer rhythm in time.

Suddenly, all these elements came together in my awareness, the peacefulness of my own company, the wash of the summer night air, the soft glow of the lights, the trees, the crickets. Everything condensed with a bang, a little implosion of perception. It felt a bit like stepping into a parallel, enchanted universe, one that I used to frequent but that I'd somehow left behind. The night around me was positively alive with magic, bursting with impossible possibilities.

How has it become so easy for me to look past this wonder, blind to the beauties all around me? How have I become a person who can't see the forest for the trees? I am always striving, striving to meet a thousand worthy goals and a thousand more. I forge ahead, doing my best though I know there will never be enough of me to go around. In trying always to do better, to be more on top of things, I have shuttered my awareness of the finer wonders of the world. Somehow I, one whose very identity was wrapped up in magic, have managed to shelve that openness in favor of perceived efficiency.

Somehow in trying to improve, I am quashing the only parts of me that I felt truly sure of. My own personal wisdom, if you will. It is so very, very hard to be efficient and be open, relaxed, aware at the same time. Efficiency leaves very little room for serendipity. I hope I will be able to find that balance, to pole the deeper waters down the middle, where the current runs fast and sure, and I can sit back and enjoy the ride.

Live Your Dream

It hit me today: how easy it is to have a dream, but to allow yourself to be so distracted that you no longer hold that image, that dream in your mind's eye. It's one thing to have to attend to daily matters- that's going to happen. Sometimes we also have to set our own concerns aside for awhile if friends or family need our help. But the trick is to do these things without losing sight of our dream.

My experience has been that dreams are attainable. There are some tricks to attaining them however, and the most important trick is the dream itself. To have an attainable dream, you need a clear idea of the whole picture, uncluttered by things you only think you want. Dreams need detail. Don't be afraid to imagine in HD. It's OK if there are a few nuts and bolts that you aren't sure of, but overall you need to have a clear image to work with.

Once you have the detail, look carefully at your dream. Figure out what parts are most important to you- what are you really wishing for, deep down? What parts of your dream are the yearnings of your soul, and what parts are fluff or simply a means to an end? For instance, a lot of people dream of winning the lottery. I ask, what's the point? Often it's because they yearn for the sense of security that they imagine would come from having a great deal of money. I understand this, definitely. But what is the true dream here? The money? Or the feeling? Perhaps someone wishes to win the lottery so that they can travel. Well then, the travel experiences are the dream, not the money. To help your dream come to reality, you need a clear idea of what it is you REALLY want, and why you want it. Always examine your dreams in this way. Even something that seems silly on the surface can reveal something important about yourself, and allow you to understand what things might make you happier.

Once you have a nice, clearheaded picture of your true desire, complete with details and stripped of red herrings, you need to hold onto that image. Think about your dream. Tape a picture on the fridge, if that will help you remember. Read things relevant to your dream. If you've narrowed your image down to what's really important to you, then you're likely to want to read and think about it anyway. Let yourself imagine it. Pretend you're writing a story about a character who attains this dream. (Or go ahead and write one!) Whatever you want to do that keeps the idea percolating in your mind. Revise your dream as you understand it better, but don't lose sight of what's really important to you- your soul's desire.

These simple sounding steps are, in a way, the hardest steps to attaining your goal. Know what you REALLY want. (That one's very tough.) Allow yourself to dream in detail. (Don't think this part is frivolous.) And hold that dream in your mind. Don't lose sight of it. Don't forget about it.

Then comes the last step, really: LIVE your dream. Yes I'm over-simplifying things a bit. But it really isn't that complicated in concept. It might seem impossible, it might seem like the "wrong time", you might not have all your ducks in a row. You might not have enough money. But if you know what you REALLY, REALLY want, then just go get it. The rest will fall into place. I'm not saying it will be easy to do. But do it anyway. My experience is, that you'll start to find things just work out when you're headed in the right direction. Just don't lose the dream.

* * *

Synchronicity is merely a sign that you are tuning to the right frequency.

* * *

While I was writing this post, someone sent me a link to this song. Don't be put off by the fact that it's Miley Cyrus. (LOL!) I like it a lot. And it seemed so relevant to my musings, I got goosebumps.


Live your dream, my friends. Live your dream.

Moontime

This post may be, by nature, a TMI sort of endeavor. (Too Much Information). If it is, feel free to duck out and come back another day for our regularly scheduled programming.

See, I'm on my moontime right now, and it has sparked some menstrual musings. This is largely because I am still adjusting to the current nature of my periods, which came back to me quite different than they'd been before my last child. I'm pretty sure this is due to my IUD, which I knew would likely cause heavier periods and increased cramping. My moontime had always been pretty easy to deal with- no more than 4 or 5 days of light flow, very few cramps and seldom any hint of hormonal mood swings. It never slowed me down. When they returned after Babyman, it was a completely different experience- no fewer than 5 days of heavy flow, plus 2 to 4 days of lighter flow, very strong cramping, pain in my lower back, all preceded by depression and headaches. It has certainly required a bit of getting used to. (I warned you about TMI!)

Despite the wonderful arrival of Spring outside, and everything I am caught up in that needs my attention, I have found myself staring into the dishwater, listening to the boys argue, and wishing quite fervently that I was part of a culture that subscribed to the practice of a red tent, moon lodge, or similar haven for menstruating women.

(I feel a need to note here, that I have not yet had the chance to enjoy reading The Red Tent, nor do I actually know very much at all about moon lodges and such. I think I will be reading up on them! For the sake of this post, I see a red tent or a moon lodge as a place apart from the rest of the community where women had to stay during their moontime, in the sole company of other women also menstruating. Childbirth with all of its mysteries was also relegated to the red tent, attended by the doulas and midwives of the community.)

Back when I enjoyed such light, convenient little periods, I didn't really understand this idea of a red tent or moon lodge. It seemed demeaning, to be shut away from society just because it was your body's time to bleed. I saw it as an expression of a society's disgust and distrust of women and menstruation.

Now, I see it quite differently. My moontime is not so easily ignored, anymore. It steps right up, takes hold of my body, and bends me to its will. "Do not pretend I am not here!" she says, "You stop what you are doing and you listen to me! I am powerful, do you see? Do you feel the moon's pull on your body? Do you feel your own power? You stop that other stuff now, and listen to the moon instead." I wish for a retreat from my other responsibilities, a separate place where I could curl up in bed to read, where I could write, where I could think and talk with other women. A place to focus on myself and my body. A place to meditate. I see now, that a red tent or moon lodge was probably just this sort of needed retreat. It served a great purpose for the women of the community- far from being demeaning, the whole idea is empowering! A place to embrace your moontime, to care for it, even to revel in it! A true retreat.

I can dream, anyway. ;)




* * *

As a sort of aside, my musings on the idea of a red tent have led me to some different thoughts- just as I used to see the red tent as demeaning to women, might it also be possible that I am misinterpreting other cultural practices with regard to women? I'm not sure if I am yet ready to accept the practice of a mandatory burka (for instance), but perhaps I need to keep a more open mind about some things that strike me initially as overly patriarchal or distrustful of women. I guess, for me, the difference would lie in choice. . . what happens if a woman wishes to go against the cultural norm?

Hmm. . .