Of Gypsies and Cowboys

You know what I just ate? A pot of beet greens; steamed and swimming in salt and butter- Yum!!! We're in the Valley for two days and the growing climate in this area brings Eden to mind! My pea stalks are taller than I am and have toppled over from their own weight (and are laden with pods!). The tomatoes are full of blooms, I picked a whole grocery bag of swiss chard, the squash are blooming and wrestling with the pea vines, the herbs are ready for use, and the beets, well, they've been enjoyed to their end :)
It is simply mind-boggling to work with such a tiny plot of dirt which gives such an incredible harvest, and in JUNE! I mean, back in the Hills we were only starting to see bits of green at this time of year. Very cool. Oh! And while picking the garden just now we looked up to see another cherry tree (which apparently hasn't given fruit in years) ilterally hanging with rich red clusters. 20 minutes gave us about 4 pounds of fruit. Incredible.

Anyways.

We've been in the Valley to roast and create and visit for two days and are heading back up the mountainn first thing tomorrow. Our life is barrelling forward and the pace hasn't slowed just yet, but now we feel woven into the ride instead of desperatly entangled and struggling to break free. We're having a blast and really looking forward to growing together as a family in the midst of our new roles and opportunities. Our location, employment, and the whole season surrounding it all is emerging as such a gift. We're not about to take any of these unexpected turns for granted; we've learned just how deep and challenging things can become so quickly; but we're going to soak it up and really live in each step as it comes. Hm. That is the lesson of my day I think: Be Here. Be here now. Be fully present, in each moment.

Hmm...I wrote a whole post and it has dissapeared. Well, here's the pics!

Hello!
To truly communicate the experiences and feelings of the past week would require you to step within my mind and heart; witnessing new sights, feeling new and deep emotions, and processing startling points of faith, relationship, and trust. These days have been overwhelming. They have been affirming. They have been terrifying. All in all, the past several days have held some of the most unexpected and foreign steps of this year. Within them, I am finding a tapestry of hope and fear and need; recognizing just how tattered I have become through the past season and how desperate my need is for peace, rest, and a sense of home.

We are here, settling into our new home. It is a beautiful and wild place, built on land that is unfamiliar to my family. Framed by ponderosa pines, lakes, and roaming cattle, we are in the heart of cowboy country. Our visit into town this morning included my first purchase of Carhart pants, a red bandanna for our black lab, and a pair of hiking shoes able to navigate the varied terrain. It's a whole new life, all over again.

As I write this, J is putting more sheets on the line from the last guests while the dusk and dew settles on the lake and the loons come home. It is surprisingly cool out though the sky is still lit. The lodge is quiet and the baby is snuggled in for the night.

I'm off to sit and breathe for a moment. Good night.

A pot for oatmeal. A pan for savory things and pancakes. Coffee beans, wine, and necesary equipment through which to enjoy them. Paints. A piece or two of literature. Indian curry spices. Crock pot. Seeds to begin a new garden. Camera. Clothes to last until a drastic change of season. Laptops. Dog. Pillow. Diapers and the one wearing them. Pot of lavender. Scrabble.

What would you take? If you were moving on to your next life tomorrow and could pack one car-load, what would make the trip and what would be sent away to storage or the sale pile? For me, the above is most of it. I'm sure there are a few things that will yet be added; stroller, toothpaste, strawberry plant; but really, this is about it. Truth be told, I like it.
The car is packed and the suitaces tied down on top. I'm full of wine and blue tortilla chips and sitting in the newly emptied camper. It's so clean and spacious when emptied that I can't help but think it's one fine living space. It's not difficult to jump back a week or two though and remember the intense dissaray-- yikes! But now, clean and empty, it continues to offer shelter and a teeny sense of home.

The past couple weeks have been difficult. Packing and repacking, celebrating for a brief few days that a new child was on the way...and then not, re-thinking and re-visioning and then jumping back again, cleaning and sorting and discarding all over again, working with the unexplainable ups and downs of hormones and interupted sleep and toll-booths of life. Difficult. Hm. Difficult, but not an excuse and not insurmountable. Difficult, yet rife with blessings and hope and points of understanding. Difficulty leading to strength; strength leading to joy.

Tomorrow, June 12th, we will drive away from this sweet urban plot and head up the mountain. New life part 2. Part 52! Three months ago (March 12th) I sat with two sweet lives in a purple-painted home drinking port and pie and toasting our grand adventure and our sweet fellowship. Three months before that evening J's job was snatched from him and we started to ask horrible questions of consequence leading to a stinky ol' camper and crazy conversations and painful ridicule and wonderous discovery. Six months in all. Six months and we're about to take our belongings and drive up a logging road to live in another (nicer more spacious) camper and continue this journey of life and value. Six months! Half a year! A thousand possible lifetimes.

I'm not entirely sure who all stops by at this blog but I love the opportunity to share and process through it. Thank you for sharing in this journey. May you find the community you need and the life you've always wanted.

The trailer is quiet and dim with just one little lamp shining. The air is warm and moist and shadowed. Jem's sleep-sheep is cooing in the background and J is already tucked in the loft (hahaha...the loft!). My eyes are thick with sleep but it has been days since I've had a spare moment to catch up on my 'screen life' I live through blogs and emails and all those handy and awful tools.

We have two full days left (3 sleeps) before we head up the mountain to our new life. New life part 2, or 10 or...something. I am finding a growing sense of nervousness. Is all going to work out? Can we pull this off? Will we grow stronger and better through our mistakes (I'm not even asking IF we'll make mistakes, that one's a given!). Hm. It's through days like these that I'm forced to face my sweet phrases such as, "It's the journey..." "Life is a process..." "Things take time...", etc., and to recognize that I'd rather just be at the comfy safe destination sharing legends of valour and character and confidently telling people that everything always works out just so nicely. Hmm ;)
Y'know what? There's always going to be something. (watch out-- tangent!). If it's not a job change it'll be a pregnancy or a conflict or a house or a chang in health or an election or a new dog or.... Stuff happens; change and conflict and question(s)(ing) is simply necessary. Personally, I am most tempted to flip out and dissapear into a hole of anxiety, deep breaths, blame-games, and emotionally charged sessions of brooding and discussing. I am learning however, that there are other options. I can breathe, and just breathe. I can stop and smile and see what is real. I can walk away, or walk towards, or just be still. I can do an awful lot. I often don't. Correction! I often DO an awful lot, though it's more 'lots of awful'.
Anyways. Point? I'm a strong person. So are you. Now and again we can choose how we respond and how we see our situations and our world, and that is neat.
(end of tangent)

I fear I am too sleepy to pull together any thoughts worth recording. I'm going to go wash up and snuggle in and pray for rest.