Story Circles

I've been reading a book called Everyday Sacred, which I found in the reading room at my church (church is a whole new thing to me... and for another day).  This quote stuck out to me.  My life is full of surprising and fun stories, but sometimes I get frustrated at the wandering journey and the endless circles I seem to spin.

I also get lost... a lot. 

"Stories move in circles. 

They don't go in straight lines. So it helps if you listen in circles. There are stories inside stories and stories between stories, and finding your way through them is as easy and as hard as finding your way home. 

And part of the finding is the getting lost. 

And when your're lost, you start to look around and to listen."

Right now, I am simply working on finding new circles, the beauty of the ones I have, and also to not run endlessly in futile ones.  Sometimes you just have to let go to the universe and  trust it's plan.  

Trust that what is right will come back around again.

And so we begin again...

My attempt to start this blog again last year was an epic fail!  Life on the farm and off the farm just got too hectic, and when down-time came, I wanted to do nothing more the drink wine and stream shows on the internet.  But it is a new day...

March 1, 2013- moved again!  This is my biggest solo place by far- a whole two bedrooms- yup read it, one.. two!  Not a super accomplishment by most standards, but to actually have separate spaces for my office and arts and sleeping, and hanging out... this is BIG!  Unfortunately the only factor hanging over me is how to actually afford it.  

I only have one part time job (thanks Master's Degree and crappy economy), but that is temporary.  And a big part of this move is making it work!  That means...budget, budget, budget.  I have many ideas how to do that- but the follow-through is the key.  The first main step is food.  Planning, shopping, preparing and eating at home.  Making as much as I can from scratch.  It is so much cheaper to buy raw ingredients and cook from home then to go to pre-packaged meals (or get nasty bad for you take-out).  It is a habit thou... and one that I want to develop.  My health has not been good for a while (packing on the pounds- I am sure I will post much about my quest to loose 25-30 lbs) because of poor eating habits and exercising habits.  My new place is .5 miles to my gym.  I am sooo excited.  

So we begin again.  I first have to unpack... I am already making a "wish" list of items I need.  I think re-store, thrift stores, and craig's list will be my shopping/ hunting grounds.  New things are fine, but finding things is better.  Heck I am even dreaming of making a picnic table for my back porch... ah the dreams of a delusional extremely tired person.  But first... we begin again.  Baby steps.  

I am looking forward to this journey...

Don't Count.. no...Name Your Chickens

It's been 4 years since my last blog.  Land of milk and honey not achieved...yet.  I find myself living on a farm in central (Piedmont) North Carolina, managing a farmers' market in Chapel Hill, and working another part-time job as a project manager for a woman I met through a discussion course.  Life has taken many turns- up and down... but I will write from the now (mostly)...here we go again...

Living on a farm, life and death are immediately closer to everyday life.  There is no buffer zone.  The easy... we grow vegetables and rip out weeds.  We harvest produce and compost (or feed to the ducks and chickens) those that have bolted, eaten by bugs, or just didn't make it.  We cut the grass and weeds, and use them as mulch.  Life and Death.

Harder is when the animals are involved.  We only have chickens and ducks (plus dogs and cats), and we don't process the birds for food- minus the time when we ordered a straight run (farmer talk ... ordering a dozen chicks from a "source farm" (good reputation, sustainable, organic) and all are supposed to be hens) and over half were roosters.  We have eaten several rooster dishes... Anyhow, we have 40+ ducks and 120-ish chickens.

Most, chickens and ducks, are indiscriminate... but there are the very few which display personalities that are discriminate.  I tend to name them.  They tend to not make it.  They stand out because they are different.  I am sad when any animal dies (unintended), but these very special few bring sadness.
First there was Funky Foot- a rooster with a deformity- he lived under the coop so evaded the rooster grab.  He was a loner, and yet liked people.  An animal of some sorts got him... after a few days of not seeing him, I looked and found his body.  We buried him under one of the fruit trees- why buy bone meal...

Then there was one chick- a runt, I donned Chicken Little... he wouldn't grow!  When we moved the rest of chicks in his cohort, he was still to small, so he lived with the ducks.. and grew to think of himself as a duck!  Thank goodness farmer M. was there when he went for his first swim!  I once tried to put him (most likely a her) back with the other chicks- and later found her wandering the woods looking for her ducks...  We lost him to the cold snap a few days later.

Today, another bold chick, who I have named twisty based on a deformity which has left her face/ beak twisted was grabbed by one of the dogs.  Another bold personality... always the first to the feeding bin, in your face, not shy... she even approached the running mower today.  I don't know her fate yet- only one puncture wound- but enough for a young chick.  I am doubtful and pray.  I like her- I like her tenacity.

You can't can't count your chickens before they are hatched.  Don't name them either.  Life and death is constant on a farm.  But the life and experience out-weighs the death.

Future posts will be less detailed... I think!  But I would like to honor those pioneering chickens ... Chicken Little and Twisty.... always nice to know personality exists!

Dreams

Wow, what happens when a dream comes true? I see this tree, one of my favorites in Centre County, several times a week on my bike rides home. It always seems so perfect in the middle of a field, the green fields and there is a great old barn just a bit farther down the road. Something of rural dreams.

I wrote about rural dreams, well in a way, in my thesis. The images that are portrayed versus the reality that is there- a theme that surfaced during the course of my work. My work, almost a dream in itself. Something I worked so hard on, and something I am so proud of. I hope that it continues, through me or inspires another - wouldn't that be a dream.

But now what to do? What do you do when a dream comes true. Achieving is scarier then not achieving. It is easy to make excuses to "why not"- busy, real life took over, lost interest, got a job, my dog ate my thesis.... but there are no excuses for success. And then there is the aftermath, the dreaded "what now?" The last question they asked me in my defense, the question that hangs over my head now.... well for a bit I will dream- code for sleep!- and bike past my tree at a slower pace- and know that no matter what --I can do what ever my dreams may be.

Thanks to all who help me realize my dreams.

The Killdeer Family

The other day on our morning walk through the old trailer park (it is the best short cut to Starbucks) I saw this huge Killdeer sitting down. She was making the tale-tail Killdeer cry, but not moving. I couldn't help but wonder if she was hurt. We slowed down to get a look, but kept our distance since she was obviously in some sort of distress. Why was not a mystery for long. As we approached, suddenly she leaped up, revealing three babies- but the real source of her distress was a fourth whom had not made it safely under her wing. (I am assuming it is a female- since Killdeer are one of those plovers where there is no difference in appearance).

Since then we have walked this path many times- not only for coffee, but there is always something to explore or see on this route. I have always marveled at how destruction- both man-made and natural- promotes new activity by creating new habitats. I have not seen the babies again, but on every walk we are greeted by the nervous parents who cry and make a great commotion in no doubt their effort to keep us far away from the nest. They do this curious thing of spreading their tail feathers, almost like little directional flags so we are sure to follow them. I read that this might actually be their common behavior of pretending to have a broken wing in order to lead predators away from their nests.

I love discovering these things- seeing the behavior and then going to read about it. Nature and animals are truly marvelous, and very humbling. I get so wrapped up in myself and my struggles, that sometimes I forget all of the life that goes on around me- constantly. It doesn't take much to remind me that I am only a very small piece of this very large world. Thanks Killdeer family.

Bye Chili

Chili has been hanging in dogdamonium (what I call my house) for the past few weeks. She went back to her family today, and while I was glad to see her home with her family, I was sad to see her go. Funny how that is.

My house is covered in white hair, and the trash has been broken into more often recently (not that it was her- but she may have brought out the bravado in Jake), but I was used to her. All you need for Chili is a stick or something for her to chase. As much as I love Jake, he does not chase. Sometimes it is nice to have a dog that interacts. Short of my being a squirrel, I ain't getting that outta Jake!! (that's PA talk for ya!)

A different personality is always fun to add to the mix.

(One last thought- for anyone who had ever tried to stand on a couch, look through a camera, dangle a treat from above, and get three dogs to stay in frame and look at you at the same time will totally appreciate what a fabulous procrastination technique it is!!)

$%^# Thesis!

Working on a thesis, as I think many of you can attest is like a waterboard torture (I am only guessing here) of the most delicious water (or pick your fav beverage) you can imagine. A labour of love that you just want to kill- or will make you want to cry, and throw in the towel yourself. Basically I am at that point that I just want it to be over, I want it to be good, I want it to be over, I want it to be the paper I have dreamed about, I want it to be over, I want to answer- "Done!" when someone asks me about it, I want it to be over, I want to go on to the growing list of "things to do when the thesis is done",I want it to be over, I don't want to think or talk about it anymore, I want it to OVER!!

These are the images I get these days- my beautiful loving dog looking at me with those soulful and hopeful eyes, begging to play- for longer then 10 min. "Come on ma!!" And then the table at Starbucks- where I begrudingly drag myself to (and am at right now) because I know that I will get more work done there- even if I do have to pay for coffee and internet access.

But then I love what I am doing, and I look that handsome dog in the eyes and think about the better life that this thesis will bring (or at least the land of milk and honey I pretend is at the end of this particular road!!) I think about all of the women who have helped me learn and write about women farmers and their herstory. I think about publishing an article and findig a way to continue this work I have begun! I think- two more weeks! Yay! Arrg!

Breath. Center. Now get to work.