Farm Elementals

                                                           FARM  ELEMENTS

                                                        Fire, Water, Earth and Sky

                                                                     WATER

Every now and then nature reminds us 'who's in charge'.  She re~schools us in the concept of  'balance'. All things in proportion are best.  She nudges us (or if you know NCIS? she gives us a Gibbs/DiNozzo head slap, lol)  Lest we forget, that no matter how clever we are, no matter what science or tech at our disposal, SHE controls the deciding vote, the 51% ownership. SHE is the one who calls the shots. SHE gives life SHE denies life. SHE is the one who must be obeyed.  Killing snow in April, Killing frost in May, Killing drought in June and July.  She's reduced me to turning the water off while brushing my teeth ~ a farm water well survival skill.  She's prodded me into using dish pans (one to wash, one to rinse) which in turn allows for more water for laundry (a task carefully thought out and planned in drought, lol).  Happily this farm has a small creek that flows all year, even in harsh drought. Not helpful for drinking and cooking, but sustaining for plants, animals. Hand carrying/distributing water for any need is (I suspect) how Advil came to be invented, roflmao.  Rain barrels also are a marvel of 'found' extra water (tho only if it rains!)

* If ever you seek a farm strive for good source(s) of all manner of water ~ for people plant & animal*

It seems that today, for whatever reason, SHE decided we'd been sufficiently reminded and gave us rain - it began in the night and has lasted thus far all day - rain, glorious & wet, ever disappearing into the land as fast as it falls.  I may throw caution to the wind and run the water the entire time I brush my teeth and wash my hair tonite  :-)  Even as I considered such behaviors I do believe I heard HER say, "remember who's got the power here"!  and then she laughed and added 'just sayin'...

Old House Soul

When you rehab an old house there is decision upon decision

requiring your head and heart to find the balance

between dollar and dream

between stretching the budget and protecting the old girls' soul...

The rehab of this old farm house, lovely old girl that she is, hinges

(for me)

on restoration, reclamation, rejuvenation ~ not altering renovation

I love 'the old' of her

creaky doors, wide-plank floors, wavy windowed glass

leaded panels, old brass handles, ghosts and crows that sass...

Every (single) time the heating fuel truck rolls to a stop out front
under the maples that touch the sky bare branched
I wince

It's never pretty when I see the meter read

of how much the old girl consumes to keep us warm(ish)

I'm so often advised to

"replace those old windows and doors &

it'll save you a fortune in the winter!"

No doubt it would...

But how could I wrent from her these?

No.... Never...

Can not. Will not.

She's watched the world pass with these

for a hundred and forty years.

Her pride, her history.

My joy every day as I gaze thru or walk thru.

No - I say they stay.

(as I pull on another warm sweater)...

Between Here And ...

These curves of wood with tight-drawn strings cradeled within these collective hands & joined by voices lean yet strong sketch an image on my heart.....
(My words above hyper-link Youtube Here and Heaven (Live) Goat Rodeo Sessions Sony 2011 (c)

I Shouldn't Have Been Surprised

No, not surprised at all. 

Many if not most of the large decisions, changes, events in my life have unfolded (or snapped me in wet towel style) unplanned and unbidden. Happily the majority improved my world. Gave my life more depth. Climbing up and down the emotional ladder rungs from confusion to insanity aside lol there's little I'd change.

This point in time, these circumstances were vastly different and intense. Challenge mixed with a heavy dose of "interesting" rolled out on the hard surface of my anger and defiance. I don't mind (now) admitting that I was emotionally at sea. Not a place I have often, if ever, found myself standing.

Trying to relocate 'center' - my center - my heart in fact ~ in this old house began from things broken. Our meeting was instigated by heart-whiplash. Never planned. This old girl never danced on the edges of any current agenda. She was on no list of mine. She was not the plan I had. Not even close. Not in the same galaxy not close.

Me. This old house. Both seeking. Both searching. Both needing. A few threads of hope hung like threadbare curtains in our storm battered eyes on the world. Her large ancient windows were dark and broken. My heart~soul~windows were equally battered dark and bruised.

Both of us found ourselves at far beyond weary. She seemed ravaged to her timbers.  My visible exhaustion was deeper than bone. I felt as tho mice were chewing on my soul.

The first time I saw her she seemed to be expecting me.

But I shouldn't have been surprised.....
No, not one bit.