Wednesday, March 30, 2011

beyond knowing

What Is There Beyond Knowing?
What is there beyond knowing that keeps
calling to me? I can't
turn in any direction
but it's there. I don't mean
the leaves' grip and shine or even the thrush's
silk song, but the far-off
fires, for example,
of the stars, heaven's slowly turning
theater of light, or the wind
playful with its breath;
or time that's always rushing forward,
or standing still
in the same -- what shall I say --
What I know
I could put into a pack
as if it were bread and cheese, and carry it
on one shoulder,
important and honorable, but so small!
While everything else continues, unexplained
and unexplainable. How wonderful it is
to follow a thought quietly
to its logical end.
I have done this a few times.
But mostly I just stand in the dark field,
in the middle of the world, breathing
in and out. Life so far doesn't have any other name
but breath and light, wind and rain.
If there's a temple, I haven't found it yet.
I simply go on drifting, in the heaven of the grass
and the weeds.
~ Mary Oliver ~

(photos of my new home taken with a loving eye: Lilacs which are coming to be; the Barn so beautiful I could kiss it; the luscious walls inside the Chicken Coop; more of my Beloved Barn; a just right window in my Barn)

Friday, March 25, 2011

Spring Dresses

I've been thinking about these little dresses so much from ModCloth, that I think a little dress buying is in order:

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

inner strength

Spring finally came to the mountains today. The sun is shining, the sky is blue.
Seal was inspecting the new daffodils, and even tried a bite.
All my little Doot-Doot has to do is look pretty today.
the goddess is reaffirming gentleness today.
there is nothing wrong, whatever, with sensitivity and kindness.
if anyone tells you differently, you can tell your heart, "how sad that they would say that. I know the world needs my gentleness."

As we've seen, the earth is full of strength and brutality. the forces of nature are often savage. Must we also, always, be savage?
why can we not learn that people need softness?
Your inner strength is revealed
by your gentle nature
and your tender heart.

this is the lesson of the goddess today in the new life, the soft sunshine and silky air...

Sunday, March 20, 2011

I am always on the edge

Let's pretend for one minute that I have been lost in a wood since I could remember. No matter how much I'd want to find my way out of the forest and into the half-memory of a life I'd lived before the loosing, there would be days when I'd like nothing better than to lie in the tall grasses of a glen and listen to the clinkle of the brook nearby and grab at dust motes floating over my warmed skin.
Every day, I would not neglect to pray for a way out. I'd pray to find a road. I'd dream of stumbling through a wall of thorns to find the dusty, seldom-tramped ribbon of red dirt that would shoot me straight to where I'd always dreamed of being. I'd cry about not finding it. I'd wallow in the shallows of a lazy creek and let my salty tears drip into the crisp, flowing wetness as a dream of the ocean I'd never seen. I'd tear at my clothes and pour ashes on my head every time I lost faith in ever seeing a road.
Then one day I'd see the road. I would come up on it after a particularly beautiful day on hands and knees peering into rabbit warrens and bravely going elbow deep into foreboding little holes in the ground. I'd find it after I'd baptized myself in the river and washed myself in the dew of the Lady's Mantle. I'd find it after I'd made a wayside shrine to the Green Man and a little rock hearth which I'd dedicate to Hestia. I'd carved out a little life in the wood, however lonely and small it was.
And so, this day the road would surprise me and dumbfound me. I'd be smack in the middle of it and fall on my knees in the silky dust...plith, plith the dirt would plith for each knee. Just as I'd begun wondering why now?, the loudest sound I'd ever heard would rattle-trap its way around the bend behind me, and turning to see, I'd only just fall out of the way of the round-going wheels to avoid bodily breakage and find myself at the edges of my safe woods. What sort of prayer had I made? What kind of place could this road be? How could I want to leave? Before I'd made a decision, a single rider atop a road-weary horse would approach and offer me a hand. Will you go or will you stay?
Standing, I make an instant decision: Stay right here, rider. I'll be back in a moment.
I run to the shrine and say a prayer to the Green Man and grab a rock from my hearth. I lean into the coolness of the river and take a drink, long and languid, to remind me. Then I run back to the road. The rider is still there, waiting for me.
Where this road leads, I'll not know. But this is what I'd longed for. This is what I'd wallowed over. This. This moment only: get out of the wood. Now that I was out, it was time to make a new prayer, though now it was less of a prayer and more of a belief that this life, this life I'd been given was bound to twist and turn and answer when you'd forgotten to expect it. There was now a truth, down in the center of my bones that I would never be able to pluck out. The truth told me that everything I'd done before had prepared me for everything ahead of me. That going through the brambles every day prepared me for this dry road. That the long drink I learned to take from from the river, was what would sustain me on my journey. That my journey, now, was the answer. That the answer would be different later. That the answer might be to jump off the horse and run back to the life I'd been living in the wood. That was a fine problem. But whatever you do, keep stepping. The truth told me that every step I'd taken was the answer to the prayer before it, to keep praying and to keep looking for the answers. That all answers began on the side of a dusty road, with a hand from a passing rider. Take the hand or do not take the hand. And now, here I go, to see what I might see.

I've been in the process, on the journey between here and there, awaiting the answer and seeing that the answer is always more than one absolute. Whichever way I turn, whichever way I decide to go is in fact the answer. If I stay, that is the answer. If I go, that is the answer.

I choose to go forward. I choose to believe that in a week's time, I will be arranging our food in our new farm pantry. In a week, I'll be unpacking my beautiful things and finding new ways of showing what I find amazing. In a week, I choose our farm.

Friday, March 18, 2011

ooooohhhhh yeeeeeaaaaahhhh

I totally love this hairdo and had to share it...
can't wait to try it tomorrow :)



Monday, March 14, 2011

the only life

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~Mary Oliver


also, when did my hair turn completely brown from blonde? when did my eyes become more green than brown? There are times when I feel as though I'm shedding anything I was not, unveiling everything I really am.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Looking Forward

to our new home (less than two weeks away!)
to longer hair (it's getting there, hooray!)
to wearing size 12 pants (hey, I went from just about 18s to 14s since christmas!)
to more sunshine
to stargazing
to tulips and crocuses
to exploring our new barn
to cleaning and painting the new house
to wandering and hugging the ground and soaking it all in
to flowery gauzy blouses
to skirts
to sandals
to sleeping in tomorrow
to teaching Kindergartners about Oregon next week
to using more of that fabulous "tousle me" shampoo
to spraying my hair with curling product some more
to my feet in the dirt

"Instructions for living a life.

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it."

Wednesday, March 09, 2011


- red velvet cupcakes with homemade icing - woooooaaaah nelly!
- oatmeal!
- the kids' lunchboxes, which are tin just like the kind I use to have - I love how durable they are!
- Bi-Mart
- my red barn that I'll own in less than three weeks
- giving my cool stuff to people who truly truly appreciate it
- talking out problems with people and finding that things weren't as bad as they seemed
-my kitty cats
-kitty cat cuddles
- kitty cat paws, kneading my arm/leg/face/hand/foot
-my chickens who found a piece of toast with peanut butter and were wiping their beaks for a good long while after that
- my dishwasher
-being complimented on my teaching style
-learning how to be a better teacher
- knowing that there is always something I can do
- my husband's manliness - yes, I said it, "manliness"
- my son's desire to make everybody happy (poor little boy - it's a blessing and a curse my son)
- my daughter's desire to make everyone SMILE
- feeling capable and dependable on my job
- having a comfy chair at my desk
- knowing that the pain I feel today from Zumba will only make me stronger tomorrow
- considering a night Yoga class once a month and knowing I'll love it
- deciding NOT to do laundry tonight
- putting notes in my kids' lunchboxes
- having really really great Science curriculum for my kindergartners
- the 55 degree weather we had today
- Saint Brigid
- my capable hands
- my strong arms
- my cute feet
- the shape of my eyes
- my thick hair that can be curly if I want it to be, or stick straight if I want it to be
- my good intentions
- my ability to empathize (sometimes too strong of a sensibility, but I'm thankful to have it nonetheless)
- my cousin Jessica who is the sister of my heart - how I love that red-headed, ruby-lipped lady
- my mama who is everything I could've asked for in a mother and more...every moment she is love love to you mama
- the crow who shouted "COCK" when I was brooding my way into school this made me laugh and laugh and laugh...
- this poem by Robert Frost:
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued

Monday, March 07, 2011


travel light

live light

spread the light

be the light

(beautiful things I bought from OzmaofOdds on etsy)

Thankful for...

...WD40 to clean off my white board at school
...Beautiful children's books that illustrate exactly what I want the kids to learn
...Aboriginal Dot Art
...a child who read the sentence, "My mom had a big fat hat, but..." as "My mom had a big fat hot butt."
...finding our favorite sausages in the back of freezer and having breakfast for dinner
...ghost shows baths little girl giving me the biggest hugs son's kisses husband's kind heart (I love you so much sweetheart)
...our four kitty cats, even the old one who doesn't know who we are at least 3 times a week mom who sends me encouraging notes dad's genuineness and down-to-earth huggability
...kindnesses of strangers
...kindnesses of those we work with keurig black footless tights under flippy skirts mother-in-law's thoughtfulness...I probably don't say thank you enough to her father-in-law's excitement about helping my kids with school projects car's butt-warmers
...the rain melting off the snow
...friends who know exactly who I am - fickleness included - and still buy me presents and lavish me with love ratty gray hoodie that I climb into at the end of the day
...this beaded bracelet that my daughter made for me at school today, strung on a pipe cleaner pillow
...playing Pirates of the Caribbean for free on the internet
...planning units of study for my kindergarteners
...being asked to participate
...having the art lit lady come and ask me if I'd like her to teach art lit to my kids...uhhhhh, yeeeeesssss.... cowgirl boots new wooden dish drainer goose-down comforter
...hearing my children play together
...brushing my daughter's hair and putting it up into little ponytails
...knowing that spring is coming light it is now when I drive to work in the morning light it is now when I come home from work in the afternoon dr. pepper (I mean, seriously, whoever invented it is a popgod)
...sugar-free Dove chocolate truffles - I now believe in heaven
...the woodstove


...white candles

Sunday, March 06, 2011

The truth is...

that I will be living on our little farm in Terrebonne around March 25th, 2011.

that I am a beautiful, healthy, young-looking woman.

that I am a giving, smart, decisive, loving teacher.

that my children are kind to each other.

that my family loves me so much, they tell and show me often.

that our house will assess for more than we are selling it for.

that the fixes on our house will not be difficult, nor expensive.

that my family is happy and healthy and always smiling.

Saturday, March 05, 2011

pretty things and...

I wish I knew where these came from, but I don't...but I am going to make my new big utility room to look this way...SERIOUSLY...
Love all the drawers and white things and the tinny-looking metal things and the old boxes...this is a perfectly perfect Pantry to me :)
But on to REAL things:

It has been hard for me to write here, lately.
Because the things I want to say have to be so thickly veiled or ignored altogether that it won't make much sense.

Let's just put it this way, I vented last night and I feel better having told it, even if it is only in part.
Thank you for your kindnesses, even in regular emails to me.
You know, the ME you read here is truly the me you would meet in life. I don't leave much out.
A kind woman told me recently that I wear my heart on my sleeve and there isn't anything wrong with that. That is true. When I'm angry, I get angry...really angry. When I'm sad, I get really sad. When I'm scared, every light in the house is on and I'm pretty sure every thing I brush up against in the darkness is something unspeakable.
When I'm happy, I float on clouds of golden dust.
But, in this strange turn of personality, I tend to keep those thick, molasses-like feelings under a kind of wraps sometimes. Not sure who to share it with. That makes for a boiling-over situation often-times. I wished that I'd kept this place more private so that I could write in it more freely.
The odd thing is, is that the "problem" is in real life, not in internet land.

I don't like to keep quiet. It doesn't feel good to keep it to myself. I like to share; it is very therapeutic for me.
Thank you for listening, and thank you also for understanding when I erase it again. I've shared and now I erased. That was good enough for me.