Nichola

Overheard in the kitchen:

Jeff: Excuse me little girl...

Neeka: Excuse me big daddy...

Bwahahaha! Nichola has as much character in her little toe as most have in their whole being... but that's just my humble opinion as her mama ;-)

Good Times

Two woolly dogs curled in the orange light of the fire.

The sweet smell of Chicken Paprikosh on the stove.

Wind howling through the canyon.

Edie Brickell sings her funny, sweet songs.

I live for times like these.

:-)

Down but Not Out*

Destin Beach, FL 2-21-09

Did I ever tell you how lucky you are?
I’m telling you, Ducky, you’re really quite lucky.
Some people are much more – oh, muchly much much more –
Oh, ever so much more unlucky than you!
~Dr. Seuss

I took a spill last night and seem to have done some real damage to my already poorly functioning hip and pelvic structure. Wah.
I usually do not notice them and have adapted well over the years, but with the combined weight from the baby and the gestational tendon loosening they don't work so well, or without noticeable pain. I manage though, and even waddled my way 1000+ feet up the side of a mountain last week. I'm stubborn like that ;-)

There's no waddling for me today though. Not much moving actually as my left hip/leg won't really function much and my pelvic bone is pretty well screaming at me no matter how I try to appease.

So it is dreadful bed rest for me for now. Wah, again. I should be good at this after so many years of Fibromyalgia induced bouts, but it seems the taste of physical freedom this past two years has made it difficult to accept. Truth is, I was miserably frustrated with the limitations I had before the fall and usually pushed myself too far, choosing freedom and living with difficulty over feeling left out of life. Now I'm working to dismiss feelings of unfairness, being trapped and a pretty intense boredom. I'm just not well suited to bed rest!

So, alas, Quinn and I are home alone today. Jeff has taken Neeka to town to fetch some media distractions for me... a compromise to be sure, but staring at the walls for hours with no way to alleviate the pain is just a little more than this gal can put in for right now. Quinn, bless his amazing heart, stayed home so that I would not be without food, water and the like while they are gone. So, we will spend the day finishing the novel we've been reading, getting a little further in The Tao of Pooh and playing games. He's getting quite good at Chess (which is, admittedly, beyond me) and is surprising us both with how quickly his reading abilities are expanding.

It seems that our Indian Summer has passed and we're into fall for sure now. There's a definite bite to the air, and slippers on the tile are a must these days. It isn't much of a secret though that I LOVE the changing of the seasons, and fall is my favorite of all. :-)
Part of me wants to cry "bah humbug" at not being able to go for walks and enjoy it, but that's not really who I am, and I know well enough how to ilk happiness from whatever life gives... and right now it's giving fires and cocoa, snugly sweaters and early nights with lots of time to read. I even get a little thrill from the howling sound the wind blows through the two chimneys and trees. ;-)

I'll take a healed hip as soon as I can have it, but for now I will be content with what I have, for what else is there to do. No sense at all in crying over what is!

Snow!

We're having our first snow tonight! It's a late night for us; still up at 9:45, but I'm so glad that we are. It's been that kind of day today... so different from the usual Monday pace. After a sleepless night I was granted a day lounging in bed to rest this hugely pregnant body. I drifted in and out sleep while bright morning light changed to the soft warm afternoon light; streaming in the big window and casting patterns on the all white room.
Snuggled in piles of pillows and down blankets I dreamed of so many things as I half listened to my family playing through their day... stories on the sofa, Legos on the floor, blanket forts and pancakes.

In the late afternoon a dream of Belgian chocolates lured me out to the quiet kitchen to savor a square of dark chocolate while Nichola lay sleeping in my downy bed, and the boys made a trip to town for groceries.

The laziness of the day continued when we all gathered in the livingroom chatting rather than focusing on the task of dinner. As the sun sank down we finally hefted ourselves into the kitchen to prepare a meal of blackened shrimp and creamy pasta while Quinn read library books to Neeka. Though the sky was dark and we were far off of routine, it was nice to cook another truly healthy meal with my partner rather than compromising with some prepackaged thing.

Around eight o'clock we finally gathered at the table for dinner with a sigh and satisfaction. Quinn had two helpings and we both shared our shrimp tails with Jeff and Nichola who happily crunched away on them.

As an extra special treat Jeff and Quinn had picked up a small box of desserts from a patisserie in town that uses local, organic ingredients in their beautiful, gluten-free treats. We quartered a tangy lemon custard cupcake, a flour-less chocolate cake wedge, part of a huge pecan brownie and a chipotle chocolate tart topped with a fresh raspberry. It was so decadent and yummy!

As the kids and I sipped the last of the frosty mug of milk Jeff called from the porch, "IT'S SNOWING!"
He had gone out to rescue our dogs and potted tomato plants from the cold night.
In a matter of minutes I was a flurry of children's boots, hats, and sweaters as they rushed about in a mad dash to get out to the swirly flakes.

It's just after 10pm now and I think they've had their fill of the fluff for the night, and are settling in front of the fire getting sleepy as the wood stove clicks and hums with the heat, and the excitement melts off with the cold.

In less than an hour they'll be fast asleep in their own downy bed covers and I'll be sipping tea and pouring over my new book on shamanic soul retrieval.

Mmmm... sweet, warm, fuzzy days....

Transitions

It's not now or never
It's not black & it's not white
Anything worth anything
takes more than a few days
& a long, long night
~Deb Talan

Despite the sun outside, my days have been overcast days lately.
Fear, uncertainty and doubt.
Self doubt.
It's such an ugly little toad that moves back and forth... squatting on my heart... squatting on my head; croaking lies.

In spiritual writing there is little talk of these times, little admittance that some things deserve to be looked in the face and worked through rather than washed aside with affirmations, positive thoughts and strong beliefs. Sometimes the strongest beliefs in the world can still do nothing but co-exist with long established squatters, so long as they believe themselves to be above getting dirty.

And transitions can be very dirty. So much is changing for us, all at once... A new home, a
new baby, a new way of life...

There is, it seems, a common misconception that living a nomadic life is chaotic and unstructured. so often, I hear how happy we must be for our new-found structure.
It seems to be a secret of those on the road that life on the move is ever so much more structured, routined and consistent. It's like jumping straight into the river of life... the mere flow keeps everything in order, not just out of necessity, but because the action of moving causes everything to line up more naturally. It's like that old adage that if Mama keeps moving all her ducks line up on their own.

Sleep falls naturally in rhythm with the cycle of the sun. Meals are simple and fall in line with the movement of sleep and activity. Family time isn't family time, it's just time.
Everything and everyone moves together whether or not they are directly interacting.
Life is more simple and also more abundant...all on it's own.

This is very, very different. To create the same things, the same simplicity, the same structure, routine, it takes real effort, constant mindfulness, a daily reapplication of values.
The transition is intense and cannot seem to help, but come with those old buggers: fear, uncertainty and doubt. Not because we are not sitting pretty to make our real dreams a reality,
but rather, because these dreams require us to change, but unlike the pulling, pushing, unavoidable flow these changes must be brought forth by intentional action. We have a choice.

A million really.

So, the days move on and we try to learn about wintering chickens, coyote fencing, the Land-Trust laws to which everything we do and build are subject, tomato thieving chipmunks, and so very much more.
We try to make these dreams come true, all while really working to remember the priority levels we have set to our core values. Growing our food: Important. Family, Feelings, Spiritual Growth: More Important. It's a whole new juggling act and we're still the phase of dropping balls and trying not to become disheartened. Of seeing what present compromises will bring us in the future.

So many moments are beautiful and perfect. We have everything we hoped for and more. Transitions are hard though... the whole perspective changes and we struggle to refocus and re-balance rather than resist. And, for all their difficulty, as a rule they tend to be ever so short in duration. This too shall pass. Change is the only constant and how lucky are we?