Kitchen / Garden / Sanctuary - Urban Homesteading to Nourish Body + Spirit

Category: News + Family Updates (Page 8 of 25)

Winter has returned!

The season has reasserted itself, and we got about a foot of snow on Sunday! It’s a fortunate thing, too, because winter was slipping through our fingers without much at all in the way of precipitation. I was getting ready to drag out the hoses and sprinklers but now thankfully I can put that off for a while yet.

Sunday was a lovely day of resting, reading, soup-eating, snow-ice-cream-making, enjoying the blizzard from inside our cozy warm house, and venturing out now and then to re-shovel the walkways.

And in typical Colorado fashion, yesterday, Monday, was a glorious sunny day. Not one single cloud anywhere. So I shoveled a tunnel to the clothesline and dried two loads of laundry outside. My grandma used to do that; she dried all the clothes of her household of nine (!) out on the line, even through the winter. She shoveled a walkway to the clothesline through the snow, for 46 Colorado winters, and didn’t get a dryer until she was in her 80s… but by then she was very sick, and never did get to use that new dryer. It’s just as well; my mom says she reckons my grandma loved every minute of the time spent outside hanging clothes, no matter the weather. I agree; there’s just something about hanging out the wash.

Then later in the afternoon when I was needing some birdsong in my ears, wind on my face, and sunshine in my eyes, I sat out on the sidewalk with some tea in my New Chair. I bought this fabulous chair, seemingly never used, at the thrift store for $4.99. I looked it up this weekend and it’s a $75 chair! (It’s a Howda seat.) It was one of those things I didn’t know I needed — as my mom says, “I’ll need it when I see it” — but it’s just perfect for one of the things I like doing most, which is to “sit awhile” in little random outdoor spots.

Today is another wintry, cloudy day with a little bit more snowfall. I love these days. But the shrinking band of winter sun through the south windows, and the increasing evening daylight means that Spring really isn’t very far off at all…

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Beautiful Things Today

The aspen branches I brought in a couple weeks ago are flowering…

It rained last night, instead of snowing — a most unusual occurrence — and this morning was so fresh smelling, and frosty…

This book I’m reading is a thing of beauty, too. It’s called Heaven On Earth, by Sharifa Oppenheimer. It’s about the Waldorf approach to early childhood — but if you let it, this book could be a life-changer even if you don’t have children. The environment created at home for the young child would in fact benefit anyone. The other thing of beauty in this photo is the page holder!! What a great invention…

Spring is coming! I thought the single-digit temperatures in January had killed my lettuce crowns. Not so!

From a longtime friend… a most wonderful, old fashioned, hand written letter full of love and soul arrived in the mailbox this afternoon, and contained these handmade hearts for our window!!!

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Today

It snowed last night. It was such a peaceful sight, and our ground needed the moisture badly. And every single person in the city awoke to a wonderland this morning!

I shoveled the walks, took a few pictures, and enjoyed tea inside the warm house as the morning sun began to break through the clouds.

This day was spent doing quiet things; resting, addressing neglected piles, picking up messes, sweeping, making soup with homegrown hubbard squash.

F and I had set out our five boxes full of things we’re giving away, and they were picked up today from our front porch. How great it felt to send those things on to their new lives, while paring down and simplifying our own.

And being, as it is, a day on earth, it also had its challenges. Sweetness and challenges…like yin and yang, dark and light — always hand-in-hand.

Surprising rudeness at the grocery store. Surprising insurance bills. Being tired and cranky. Frustration with my bum hand and the things I can’t do right now. Assorted worries and fears. Overwhelm regarding the future.

Some days just have a heaviness to them.

That’s okay.

Other days have the most incredible lightness.

Tonight, F and I decided not to turn on the TV for the PBS program we were planning to watch. Instead it was a quiet night. I got a batch of kombucha going, candle in the kitchen window, and the soothing sounds of Steven Halpern music coming softly through the speakers.

After the counter was wiped clean and the lights were lowered, I made tea and sat down with Renewal, the magazine of the Association of Waldorf Schools of North America. I love this magazine. I received it when my mom and I visited a Waldorf school for its winter fair in December. I’ve read every word and am going back through it a second time. I’ve been noticing which magazines and articles sit around unread, and which ones I grab first these days; so I’m letting Taproot and Mother Earth News lapse, and have excitedly bought a subscription to Renewal. Learning about the Waldorf approach to early childhood, and then extrapolating that info to life in general, has really grabbed me of late. It strikes such a chord. The importance of gentleness and goodness, the importance of beauty and quality and simplicity and meaningfulness. The deep connection to nature.

And what else can we do, really, but follow our interests. I can’t see what my future looks like. All I know is that I aim to lead a joyful and authentic life doing the work I am meant to do, even though I’m not totally sure what that is right now. The only way I see getting there is to follow what really grabs me. And then, trust that it will knit itself into a future that fits me perfectly.

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~May you all have a peaceful night tonight.~

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Nope, slower than that~

In figuring out what works the best for each of us in our own lives, I think it’s helpful to sample the extremes through personal experience; we figure out what we do want, and what we don’t want.

I fractured a bone in my hand (my dominant hand, naturally), so I’m sampling the extreme of being-rather-than-doing. No art. No sewing. No major projects. Very minimal writing (I miss that especially). Minimal typing.

More reading…more sitting…more thinking and pondering. More time spent working around my hand to do things I want to, and have to, do — like preparing food. While it is an extreme — and I very much look forward to having my hand back — being forcibly disallowed to do much of what I’d normally be doing allows me to see, more and more, that I’m happiest when living a very simple life, conducted at a pleasant pace. I feel like I’ve said a variation of this so many times here before, I think I’m starting to sound like a broken record.

I’ve certainly sampled the other extreme — of living frenzied and stressed, always with one eye on the clock. And I sure didn’t like that. I’m learning, now, how to live a new pace of life that’s much more viable for me, and far less likely to result in general life burnout. My inclination has always been busyness and activity, with minimal lounge-around time, so pacing myself feels very strange sometimes. But when I downshift my whole pace, I arrive at the end of each day feeling more balanced and not so drained.

As I lay on the acupuncture table yesterday, words drifted into my head… I wish I could remember exactly what they were… something about “Learn to live comfortably in the slow, quiet moments. That’s when life’s the most enjoyable.”

And later as I mentioned to my acupuncturist that I often feel ill-at-ease during days of lower energy and minimal activity or accomplishment, worried that I’m not doing something concrete toward my future… she replied “There’ll be plenty of time for all that. And really, all we have is time.” All we have is time! I’d never had that thought before. It’s true. A long time, a short time, that’s not for us to know… But all we do have is time.

Let us make sure we are enjoying the time we have. Because otherwise, what’s the point!

(And let us try not to be worrying why this is the second bone that has broken, under only moderate impact, in under a year’s time…)

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Quiet winter moments

Happy Solstice, Happy Winter, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year!

I hope you’ve all been well. Did you have a nice holiday season?

It’s been a nice few weeks here. Working hard to get my handmade gifts ready, lots of nice Christmas music (Kohala Christmas is a favorite at our place), multiple trips to the local thrift shop to search out wool sweaters — both to wear and to felt for projects — and then after Christmas some nice down time. Getting ready for Christmas I pushed my body further than I ought to have (I was feeling so good!), and timing being what it is, I crashed on Christmas Eve. So most of Christmas Day was spent on my parents’ apartment floor by the tree, pressing my head to a package of frozen lunch meat to try to calm a horrendous headache. Around five I was feeling a little better, and we opened gifts in the twilight (instead of in the morning) next to the glowing tree — which ended being so enchanting that I think we’ve started a new tradition!

And now the New Year feels like a nice clean slate. Since I have survived (which was a question mark in my mind for some time), and am now healing from, the awful disease that is Brucellosis, I’m beginning to think about what’s next in terms of career and life direction and moneymaking endeavors. Those thoughts are exciting and I have so many ideas, but they can be very overwhelming too, on days when the “what’s next” feels far away and out of reach. As I’m learning, it takes quite a while to rebuild a body so completely exhausted and depleted by nineteen months of unchecked infection and then a further ten months of strong antibiotic treatment. I am feeling SOOO much better. But the rebuilding part does take time. Actually I have to keep reminding myself of this — the big picture of what my body has been handling — because my mind gets easily carried away with activities and cool ideas and thoughts of the future and what I need to be doing to get myself there. But then my body yanks on the choke chain, reminding me that getting back to my old self is not instantaneous and everything will happen in good time (as in “not all at once at this very moment“).

So I’ve been keeping a slower, simpler, more realistic pace when possible. You know how if you work really really hard at your job, and it’s really intense work, and there’s lots of stress, and you don’t have any downtime…how you burn out quickly? Well that’s what happens in life too, I’ve realized. Especially with the pace at which our world moves now. Even though I’m just in my 20s, I feel like I’ve lived several lifetimes already. So much stuff has been packed in. Some of it really fun, some of it really not fun. And when you pack that much in, you get worn out and you start burning out. And if you’re very sensitive (any fellow HSPs out there?) you can get overwhelmed and burnt out even more easily due to the sheer intensity of it all. Being very ill is an intense experience. It taxes you physically, mentally, and emotionally. And so what I’m learning again and again is that I can’t get ahead of myself. Even if I have a million cool ideas I want to follow through with, I have to dial it back and pace myself otherwise I will burn out totally. First things first. My first priority must remain my health. (Health really IS wealth. If you don’t have your health, you have no energy to earn monetary wealth!) When I’m frustrated and tired of that being my #1 priority, I remind myself that it’s an investment in my future. I must get fully well NOW, so that I may be who I want to be and do the things I want to do in the future. If I don’t address the physical things that need attending to right now, and let my body fully heal, then things could be a little dicey down the road. Best to address it now.

So I’ve been staying quiet, moving (when I remember to) at a slow and deliberate pace. Doing one thing at a time (like drinking tea and doing nothing else during that time), and taking the time to do things that make my spirit happy. My appetite for anything techie has been minimal, so my computer has been off a lot. It’s been nice. I’ve enjoyed keeping more of a “1972 pace” rather than a “2013 pace” if that makes any sense.

And now, onto some pictures…

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