It's been a beautiful few days here. It started snowing a couple of days ago and kept going. We woke in the morning to a new world. Though Jeff worried about the final few cords of wood still to be split, the kids and I were enchanted.
As soon as there was enough light I snatched up the camera and started taking pictures. Though I don't have a coat until next week I was able to get some beautiful shots through the various windows while Jeff split wood and the kids built snowmen and tasted icicles.
The depth of stillness and silence seemed to swallow the canyon as if we were suddenly enclosed within a snow globe. I could almost hear the snow falling, as if all the woodland animals had fallen into a state of enchanted quietness with us.
Inside the house the wood stove hummed with a rolling fire, making such a cozy, animated contrast to the outside world. We were so taken up that we completely forgot breakfast, Jeff and Nichola left to town without ever returning to the house, and Quinn and I collapsed back into bed for an afternoon nap.
I woke up some time later to the sounds of Jeff filling the wood stove, but drifted back off in the darkened bedroom. I woke again as I listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Jeff and Nichola had returned from the store with the groceries that would be turned into frozen meals for the weeks after the baby arrives.
We've spent the past few days cozied up in the house making preparations. Jeff is putting in some extra work so that he can take time off, I've been washing and folding tiny little diapers, socks and hats, reading, writing and generally enjoying my free time. Quinn and Nichola are so amazing together that I truly have a large amount of free time in most days, and I am soaking up every bit of that while it is still available.
We've put aside pancakes and pies, quiches and meatballs, jambalaya and beef stew, and tonight we'll make some yummy hummus. We gave the birth pool a test run, prepared the birth kit and related herbs, and I'm looking forward both to the new baby and the cherry, apple, and pumpkin pies we've frozen for Thanksgiving ;-) Hey, it's a beautiful life, what can I say?
Much to my surpise I've been feeling very creative and have been working on my next post for WishStudio as well as several articles I'm planning to submit to Mothering Magazine.
C'est la vie. Isn't it nice?
18 comments:
Lovely! And I have heard the snow fall before. When it comes down in those enormous, fat flakes, and there are no other sounds in the entire world... you can hear the snow hit. I swear you can hear the snowflakes run into each other on their way down, too. It's a sound unlike any other... all those tiny noises from tiny bits of ice crystals... add up to be audible.
I don't know when I'll see snow again... too far south.
You're life is so beautiful; thank you for sharing your constant recognition of that.
Thank you for taking the time to respond... I don't think anyone knows that it really means something to me.
Bekki, I think you're right. I simply didn't give it it's own truth because I've never really had the opportunity to be so far from everything that there is such silence. It's so amazing.
Unusual Combinations, my life has had, we'll say dramatic range in apparent beauty, but there are times, even as a girl in desperate tears, that I found some space to see the beauty in the experience. I think such times must be the meaning of it all.
I can't really better Unusal Combinations stance. I read and re read the Laura Ingalls Wilder books (NOTHING like the TV series I might add!) and its just some sort of dream life of mine you have there. It is lovely to know that you know it. LIfe here is beautiful but seemingly mundane in comparison. I hope that someone somewhere sees my life as a dream. Or maybe its up to me to do that!!
OMG, we LOVE the Little House books. We're so addicted. Jeff and I take turns reading them to the kids and we often talk about them as if we are discussing our favorite soap opera at the water cooler LOL!
They put us to shame too! We had skipped over Farmer Boy, years ago, because Quinn didn't like the violence in the beginning. We're reading it now and are so surprised at the differences between the two families... especially at the HUGE meals the Wilders ate. We thought WE were eating a bit rich, until we read that ;-)
We just were up in Vermont this summer. We went to the Rise Up Vermont Regee Festival. We are contemplating our "jump" per se and were looking for a little bit of clarity up in VT. We also love the little house books and I am sad to be on the last book with our girls. Like you say you talk about it at the water cooler. I often envision the Ingalls being our freinds who live on the wild frontier that we want to move to or something. We make the best of where we are now, but I dream to be free...completely free sometime soon. Did you build your house or find it?
Earth Mama, good luck with your jump! We never did make it to Vermont, but I hear it is a truly excellent place to settle. We found our house... like a needle in a haystack... I finally just followed my gut and looked where I never expected to find anything. We found something very special. Never assume ;-)
I admire what your family are doing and wish you the best of luck. I have nothing to offer here except the translation of a poem that seems to describe the joy of going back to the lands:
Ah, homeward bound I go!
Why not go home, seeing that my field
and gardens are overgrown?
Myself have made my soul serf to my body:
why have vain regrets and mourn alone?
Fret not over bygones
and the forward journey take.
Only a short distance have I gone astray,
and I know today I am right,
if yesterday was a complete mistake.
Lightly floats and drifts the boat,
and gently flows and flaps my gown.
I inquire the road of a wayfarer,
and sulk at the dimness of the dawn.
Then when I catch sight of my old roofs,
joy will my steps quicken.
Servants will be there to bid me welcome,
and waiting at the door are the greeting children.
Gone to seed, perhaps, are my garden paths,
but there will still be
the chrysanthemums and the pine!
I shall lead the youngest boy in by the hand,
and on the table there stands a cup full of wine!
Holding the pot and cup, I give myself a drink,
happy to see in the courtyard the hanging bough.
I lean upon the southern window with an immense satisfaction,
and note that the little place is cosy enough to walk around.
The garden grows more familiar
and interesting with the daily walks.
What if no one knocks at the always closed door!
Carrying a cane I wander at peace,
and now and then look aloft to gaze at the blue above.
There the clouds idle away from their mountain recesses
without any intent or purpose,
and birds, when tired of their wandering flights,
will think of home.
Darkly then fall the shadows and, ready to come home,
I yet fondle the lonely pines and loiter around.
Ah, homeward bound I go!
Let me from now on learn to live alone!
The world and I are not made for one another,
and why go round like one looking for what he has not found?
Content shall I be with conversations with my own kin,
and there will be music and books
to while away the hours.
The farmers will come and tell me that spring is here
and there will be work to do at the western farm.
Some order covered wagons;
some row in small boats.
Sometimes we explore quiet, unknown ponds,
and sometimes we climb over steep, rugged mounds.
There the trees, happy of heart, grow marvelously green,
and spring water gushes forth with a gurgling sound.
I admire how things grow and prosper
according to their seasons,
and feel that thus, too, shall my life go its round.
Enough!
How long yet shall I this mortal shape keep?
Why not take life as it comes,
and why hustle and bustle like one on an errand bound?
Wealth and power are not my ambitions,
and unattainable is the abode of the gods!
I would go forth alone on a bright morning,
or perhaps, planting my cane,
begin to pluck the weeds and till the ground.
Or I would compose a poem beside a clear stream,
or perhaps go up to Tungkao
and make a long-drawn call on top of the hill.
So would I be content to live and die,
and without questionings of the heart,
gladly accept Heaven's will.
-- Poem by Tao Yuanming (365—427) Jin Dynasty Chinese poet who gave up his official position to return to his home in the countryside, translated by Lin Yutang (author of My Country My People)
The sound of snow falling, or rather the absence of sound - how it seems to swallow up all that is earthly and erases worry for just a few minutes (until we have to scrape the car windshield and salt the side walk, that is, lol), is my *favorite* "sound" in the whole world....
can't believe it is snowing in NM and not in WI! i'm okay with that! :o) xoxo
That is a really beautiful poem!
Thank you.
Ella,
We are about 7,500 ft. higher in elevation than WI, which (I think) is equivalent to being 2800 miles farther north. ;-)
When is the cage free baby due to enter the world?
Baby is due at any time now. We've reached the "due date", but Quinn was born 14 days past his, and Nichola was born 20 days past hers. So we are not holding our breath yet ;-)
Whoooooooaaaaa. Snow. Hey, Bossy is a poet and she didn't know it.
Absolutely lovely! Both the pictures of your surroundings and your description! Love you.
Misty
:)
Thank you for sharing so much of yourself and your family. I just discovered your blog the other day and have been catching up to where you are now in your journey. Most poignant to me was the contrast you wrote between the birth experiences of your first two children; the cesarean/natural birth path is not an easy one to follow, yet is such a powerful way to reclaim what was lost. Blessings to you and your family. Thank you, again.
For every one who responds, I wonder how many more are enjoying reading your journal? I am.... Finally closing in on cage-free day myself, though I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to do next once the bank signs off on a short sale. I'll be left flat broke. Shed everything that won't fit in my Prius and head for the Blue Ridge! God's got my back, and something beautiful in store for me. It's encouraging reading your story as it unfolds.
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