Little pinches

Here they are, at the beginning of their second week of school, and I haven't even written about their first day! Or got around to uploading the pictures.

I guess it's just now catching up with me, that among other things. I keep having to remind myself that all of this is real. This beautiful home, this land, the boys on their new adventures...

We dropped them off for the first day of school. Their hair was combed, their faces clean and bright, their backpacks full of potential. We got there early, both Mike and I trying desperately to remind them of all the things they needed to remember, until I finally just stopped talking, realizing that this was it - the last five years we've spent grooming them for life and here was their first big lesson. The bell rang and they sprung out of the car without looking back. We watched as they disappeared into the building, on their own and exploring life without our hovering umbrella parenting.

Mike and I went grocery shopping - silent, anxious grocery shopping. And then trundled off to our too-quiet home. I immersed myself in work, brainstorming on a game plan for my own new adventures. My boss is keeping me on, to work from here the majority of the time, with some day visits to the office (3 hours away) to keep up with things there. So far, things are running smoothly, maybe even more so than before.

Any spare time I have is spent working toward my side business, which will hopefully be unveiled in the upcoming weeks. The flow of everything is coming together in ways I never dreamed possible! I just keep on stopping to pinch myself.

And that first day, like every day since then, we waited at the school to see the boys and their excited smiles walking out of the school. We listen to them fight for attention, retelling stories and singing songs from the day.

It's been perfect - all of it - every day. I just keep pinching...

I wish I had pictures of my Dad's visit over the weekend, but my camera battery died and my charger hadn't made the journey down here yet. Bittersweet, as always...our time is always short. Because of them, all of this is possible - this house they built, this opportunity they've given us. I don't even have words for it. Except thank you. With a pinch.

I stopped in the middle of the 'highway' to catch these buzzards.

One of our many resident dragons.

Finally after many many attempts, the butterfly bush at work.

These missed the original mushroom post, but were definitely worthy.

The reason we are waging war...

A casualty of the hornets.

Waiting for his bath turn

2 days and counting

Yesterday marked the 1 week anniversary of being in our new home - an eventful, emotional, warping-space-and-time sort of week, in that it seems like it's been much longer.

We've watched meteor showers under a dark new-moon sky, battled hornet nests, rescued left-behind felines, successfully transported 7 fish with no casualties (even the two babies), packed new backpacks, met new teachers and classmates, gotten school physicals, and secured a steady income.

Thursday after dinner I drove up to try to kidnap our remaining cat, who had hidden herself away after two botched attempts to get her in the crate on our initial move. When I walked in, she cried and purred and danced all over me, kneading my lap and smearing my cheeks with happy drool face rubs. All the bad things we had said about her melted away, and even though she is currently not speaking to me, she is at least back with her partners and not alone. The other two have settled in and gotten used to all the new smells and sounds. Anytime we go down there to check on them, they act like happy little puppies following us around and behaving so sweetly. Hopefully soon they will be adjusted enough to let them explore the outdoors a bit and decide if they want the chance to romp in the playground of the world, without a busy road nearby, or if they want to resign themselves to napping in windows forever. I know there are dangers out there for them, but I also believe they would be more able to live the life any animal is born to live - with freedom.

I packed up nearly all of my craft supplies - various pieces of wood, painting canvasses, bags of leather scraps, beads, paint, woodburning tools, and tons of feathers. The loft has been transformed from a beautiful empty space, to an area of possibility and excitement. In between working from home which was finalized yesterday, I'll be able to use the hours while the boys are at school creating miscellaneous things to start selling online or at flea markets. So many of my dreams are coming together at once that still I have to keep pinching myself.

Last night Mike and I sat outside after the boys went to sleep, talking for hours and watching the mesmerizing and extremely bright moon creep from behind the oak trees. It overshadowed many of the stars we had gotten used to seeing. Already I am enjoying studying the cycles of nature here - the places in the yard that get the morning sun versus afternoon sun, the types of birds and insects, the sounds and smells (which remind me so much of the home I grew up in), the directions the storms move in from and the paths and gullies formed by their heavy rains. Every day brings new adventures and excitement - too many to even name...

Each evening we all take a walk up the driveway to get the mail, collecting pine cones and feathers, and filling our pockets with interesting rocks. One day we ventured to the upper field (hereby dubbed the North Field) for a walkabout. I collected interesting grasses and ferns and assembled them into a centerpiece for the table (cost - 3 tickbites, and I was the one who picked up the tab).

So now on these last two days before school, we're savoring the time together and settling into our new routines.

Now...to start researching chickens. That empty coop, and massive egg recalls, are too much to pass up. My main requirement - colorful feathers :)

My 'office'

Accumulated beauty of the last few visits before our move:

Now these you might be glad aren't large photos. I only wish I could provide something for contrast so you can get a picture of the size of the crawlies down here:

I apologize in advance for the small pictures. Usually the beauty is in the details, but I have limited data usage on my wifi connection here, so my photos will suffer for it.

A sampling of the array of mushrooms that have taken up residence in the past few days:

Symphonies

The view from our new deck has already brought wonders - deer, snakes, red tailed hawks. I had gone out this morning around 6 to hopefully catch something interesting happening. In my mind I wished for the owls I had heard a few weekends ago in a pre-dawn symphony just out of sight beyond the woodline.

I had gone back inside to wait for morning wake-ups, but caught something through the window as it flew into an oak tree about 20 feet from the house. I caught it for a minute from the window, and snuck the binoculars outside for a quick peek. And now I have a face to go with the songs, and I was right about it being a Great Horned Owl. After about 5 seconds, I was joined by two small overly eager munchkins and when I turned back around it was gone.

I didn't get a picture of him, but here is the video I took when they were singing in the woods that past morning (You might need to turn the sound up to hear it):

Yesterday was our official first moving trip down here. We got a few things put away and Mike made meatball subs for dinner before cutting the rather long grass after our two week absence.

Then we got one of those life-changing phone calls that we knew was coming but was still hard to hear. His dad had passed away that morning.

Though I'm glad for his new-found peace, I will miss his stories from the airforce, and the ones about the place I grew up as it was 70 years ago. He was so kind to Brent and I during our stay there, calling him grandson from the day we moved in, and always sharing his lollipops and smiles when we crossed paths.

And I'm sure he had a hand in all the feathers I found yesterday, and in the clearing of the clouds last night so we could watch the meteor shower in the new-moon darkness, which I had put on my calender but forgotten about with all the activity of the last week.

Rest peacefully :)

Two more days

This friday marks the end of one journey and the beginning of another. A beautiful magical home with a world of possibilities - a life further removed from the politics of the world, from the traffic and busyness of this growing city.

A week later, the boys will be starting kindergarten - a day I thought I would dread, but our collective excitement is overshadowing any negative emotions. They are both so smart, confident, and eager to learn. That strong mothering instinct to draw them near is fading as I see their possibilities unfolding before them - new friends, more learning, interaction with the world. And for once, I feel prepared. More importantly, I think they feel (and are) prepared as well.

I feel like my life is like a big turkey dinner, where I am so stuffed and content that I couldn't possibly eat another bite. And yet I know dessert is forthcoming (pumpkin pie...I just know it!) and I will have to make room for it...somehow.

Usually at this sort of transition, my stress levels would be through the roof. I'm no stranger to new journeys, or the rapids that accompany that stretch of the river. But this time my faith overrides it all. I feel like I have every breeze in the Universe at my back, pushing me forward, settling my insecurities. I am rowing with the current, enjoying the view along the riverbank instead of craning to see around the bend. The rest seems to fall into place on its own.

It started out a day like any other, that morning last month. I don't remember what day of the week it was, but I didn't have to go to work. And there was something small we needed, so I headed down to the local store about 5 minutes away. It was the same store I had gone to when I was just learning how to drive many years ago, when my sister and I would stop in for doughnuts before sunday school.

The store has changed hands since then. And it sits barren most days, staring across the busy highway at the recently installed Walmart. The same Walmart where, on its opening day, the original owner of that small family market was murdered. It's one of many reminders that this town may bear the same name as the one I grew up in, but it not my hometown anymore.

I wasn't thinking about any of those things that day. I just picked up what I needed and made polite conversation with the man who runs things now, in his thick but friendly accent. I had a couple dollars to spare, and spent one of them on a lottery ticket. He promised to pick me the winning numbers, as he always does. And as every other time, it fell short.

But when I left there and tucked my ticket away, something felt different. I started to pull out of the parking lot, and waited for a moment, looking up at the morning sky.

Before I go any farther though, I should explain some things. The last year of my life has been absolutely amazing. I have found so much of the peace that alluded me throughout my journeys. I am a mother to two boys that bring more joy to my life than I ever thought possible. I have a partner that I have absolute openness with, who supports my dreams and craziness without missing a beat.

And my gardens have provided a gateway to learning about myself and the world around me. They've been a backdrop to my soul searching this year, physically, mentally and spiritually. I've pushed my limits on all three, and I am stronger and healthier than I have been in decades.

It seems like I have always been searching for something else. And by becoming content with what I had, doors have opened in my life that I never dreamed possible.

So in that parking lot, when I had my vision of what I wanted for the future, it was not because I was unhappy where I was that day. It was more of a glimpse of what could be - of possibilities and opportunities that were so bright and beautiful that they brought tears to my eyes. And with that vision in my heart, I looked again at the open sky - at the sun with all its energy and warmth - at the clouds passing in the dawn - at the unimaginable beauty of All That Is. I felt, for that one moment, as if I was staring into the very soul of the Universe. It humbled me so deeply that I had to look away. I lowered my head and, without knowing Who or What I was talking to, I promised that if that vision could become a reality, that I would make the world a better place. The words seemed shallow - they still do. But it wasn't a superficial promise. It was about changing this world - My world, Your world - for the better...in a big kind of way.

This is my first step in holding up my end of the bargain. For the vision that seemed so unattainable on that morning is starting to take shape. I am sitting here tonight, in this beautiful home that I can nearly call our own. And I am searching for the right words that may give someone else the spark that ignites their own faith and dreams, if they have not found them.

Those lottery numbers were nowhere close to winning. I don't think even one matched up. But within two weeks, a path opened up before me. I have a bit of pruning to do, but with each passing moment our footsteps feel a little more sure, and our faith grows a bit stronger. There are uncertainties, and there may be struggles. But each time my resolve wavers, I am given another sign of hope without fail. And I know we are where we are supposed to be.

I don't know where this will all lead - this new land wrapped with possibilities and excitement. But I know that I had the courage to make that first step in blind faith. And I know that the people I love are making it with me, with open hearts. Together, I believe we really can change the world, and I am enjoying every second as it unfolds.