Of Gypsies and Cowboys

This weekend, the women of the ranch bundled up and loaded wood. We seriously worked SO hard! My legs were shaking, my arms were numb, and today I'm starting to see some new little muscles-- yay! There was something really neat in the fact that it was just the women (well, until J came and rescued us and helped us finish...!). We trudged out into the snowy afternoon (babe on my back), we planned and laughed and figured out a system that worked for us, and we returned with the job done. God bless the women!

Do you ever have evenings where you just are brimming with contentment? Tonight is like that. Truth be told, life isn't always peachy up here. J and I are often in conflict as we work through discussion of philosophy, theology, and general 'life'. My body continues to push against me; somedays with maddening force and insight. There is always another task or project which could be done, if we were willing to give all of our time to the work of our hands. All that is to say: Today we worked incredibly hard, navigated through the points of conflict, triumphed through physical aches and limites, partnered with the kiddo, and emerged into the evening with a sense of productivity and hope of rest. The next couple of hours are ours alone. There are nachoes in the oven, wine ready to be poured, and a bedroom cozy with firelight.
This evening is am brimming over with a full cup, and it is good.

J is putting Jem to bed now as the wind howls. The wind up here is phenomenal. Seriously! It shakes this whole timber home as though it were a child's toy! The power just cut out so we've gathered the kerosene lamps to have on hand, just in case. We live 'off the grid', using a generator. I'm not sure if it's the wind or a generator issue, but we could have a funny night ahead (hmm...that might cut out the movie aspect of our date night....)

Anyways.

My skin smells like citronella and sweet orange and  lavender from my days work. My hands are rough and my back aches. I live in a millionaire's home and scrub the mantle on hands and knees; ah the sweet life! I love this beautiful beautiful life and the fact that I can sit this evening and drink of it.

My son is laughing uncontrollably as his dad reads a picture book of animals. Whenever Jem points at the turkey J goes, "gobble gobble gobble!!!" and it is SO funny! We're all laughing now :)

Today was well spent. As some may have read earlier, I have fallen in love with teeny little tartlets. I just use a mini-muffin pan and one of two favorite pastry recipes to create incredible morsels of yumminess. They're such adorable little bites that I just can't resist making more of them and experimenting with more flavours! So far I've made pumpkin-toffee, brandied-nut, and maple-apple. Next up are butter ones, and maybe soemting like cranberry whitechocolate...hmmm.... But yeah, I highly recommend playing with these. They freeze well, present nicely, and can provide a lot of variety to a dessert plate. And they soothe a baking-addict's desire when needed ;)

Do any of you live in a log home? I concocted an amazing cleaner today. Basically, hot water and baking soade with citronella essential oil (not fragrance oil). I think any citrus-based oil would work well. But yeah, it really cut into the grime on the wood railings, ledges, cupboards, and table. I didn't even know they were the light yellow color that I uncovered--yikes!!!
Random: I also made a seriously potent mouth wash! I used organic cranberry juice (with NO sweetener! Very expensive, only available in health food stores), witch hazel, and pure mint oil. WOW! It's refreshing, antibacterial, and whitening!

It's soon bedtime for baby--yay! I am SO tired these days. My body is feeling wonky and I"m not sure why :( We had a nice evening together and I think we're all ready for a cozy evening of reading and an early bedtime.

What is it about this life that brings such a sense of both satisfaction and desire? Why am I pleased when I consider the pile of wood my husband carried in, or the simple undyed playdough I made for my son? Why do I find Jem’s little woollen slippers more attractive upon his feet than branded sneakers, or those same feet bare on the grass instead of upon concrete, or those toes grimey with the dirt of exploration instead of...well, you get the picture.


I feel the need to ask myself these things. For some reason I am intensely drawn to the idea of growing food, creating clothing, eating ...differently, and living with less than I am comfortable. But why? Why is this attractive to me? Why does my stomach get all churny and funny when I read about housing hens or knitting little-boy-sweaters or creating something beautiful out of nothing? In so many ways it just doesn’t make sense. I mean, I grew up in an age and culture where the end goal of education and development was (seemingly) to acquire a career which would generate a steady and increasing income and allow me the comforts I desired. Even now, my parents yearn for more materials, less inconvenience, more comfort. Lettered names, square footage, branded clothes; these all remain incredibly attractive to people everywhere, and in some ways I could see how I could be drawn back into those cravings. Yet, this other life causes a greater hunger and a greater hope of happiness.

I keep picturing us finally moving into our little cabin. I see J reading by the fire, Jem with a small crate of toys, and me, just living; breathing without panic, content and at peace. I see glass jars with lentils and beans and grain, fresh bread and eggs, wooden toys, linen skirts, woollen sweaters. I sense the absence of fear; fear of conflict, fear of loss, fear of not getting that thing or the other, or losing it all. I see our family with a sense of wholeness and health, willing to live with what we are given and without a lust for more. I do not want to return to asphalt and malls and traffic. I don’t trust myself, yet, to act rightly within reach of all those things I once craved and clung to as I recognize that I am so easily distracted and convinced.

I am drawn to this other life. I am drawn to the hope of health and beauty and harmony. I am drawn to that picture of a life in which I can learn to seek what is good. I want it to be real. I want it to be true.

Dum spiro espero. While I breathe I hope.

 

-

This week I stepped away for a short visit with a friend a couple hours away from the ranch. As I drove, I listened to some recorded lectures, chatted with my baby, and gained confidence in my driving with the big new truck and the icy roads. During my visit I witnessed my sweet friend discipline her child, care for her home, and go about her daily routine. We chatted and shared bits on life and marriage and issues and new things, we walked and napped, we watched our kids play. On the drive home last night I became aware of an important responsibility in our lives, or at least in my life: It is good to step away. It is beneficial to step out of your 'zone' for enough time to witness points of contrast and possibility.
Though my visit was brief, I was challenged and encouraged to reconsider some approaches to parenting, to reflect on my marriage, and to think about myself for a moment. From the outside, I was able to recognize points of wrongdoing and areas in need of change; things that are often much more difficult to take stock of when you are in the midst of it.

So then. As mothers, business people, land-keepers, students, etc., how we can ensure these excursions? How may we encourage each other in these things; both to our friends and our spouses? Hmm. I think J' needs his own time out soon....

Anyways.
We awoke to a big dump of snow. Jem wasn't a huge fan of it (which I didn't help by flipping his sled and landing him on his face!!!). The horses are really frisky and even Shasta (our baby girl) tried kicking her heels at me! I went down to the lake to try to get some trout when Jem went down for his nap, but no luck yet :(  Now i'm entering 'afternoon chore mode' while J works at the cabin. Oh to be in our new home.... Oh to be patient.

Happy Thursday. May you find an ear to hear your heart today.

All this is to say that for I am growing impatient and eager and…desperate (!) for a return to my own house, my own stretch-out-in-it living space. I can hardly wait. I can HARDLY wait!!! The couple we work for is building a killer caretaker’s cabin. It’s gorgeous. It’s small and perfect and detailed with thought and design. We are going to create a home within it and it will be wonderful.

However…. My sense of impatience needs to be yet another “breathe in…breathe out” moment in this journey. The cabin is going to be finished someday. It’s coming. Whether we spend this Christmas in it or not, or whether we have to keep waiting: we know that as long as we continue good work here we will move into that special dwelling place, we will settle in and have coffee on the veranda and read books by the fire. I planted bulbs in the rocky area in front of it this morning in hope of seeing them bloom from my own windows there in the spring. Plant and wait.
For the moment, we are living in the main house; a huge log cabin with gorgeous furnishings. Our room is fantastic and we are exceedingly blessed. We have access to so much more than we deserve and we spend each evening in a place beyond what we could ever afford. So, I embrace the wait and skip down the stretching road and look ahead with hope and expectation, and patience.
(and, if you can tell, I am so tired and will now, with hope, skip to my bed…)