Dream a little dream

Funny how my night time dreams can leave me feeling somehow lost and confused, and even sad, upon waking. It is a different world, isn't it?

I have been dreaming of searching for a place to call home, and the dreams are vague and I hardly remember anything when I wake. Not too surprising since in this other, wakeful reality, I have been searching for a place to call home too. Parallel realities.

Last night I dreamed of old friends, two of them, who were in the hospital. They were okay, healing from whatever ailed them. I went to visit and spent some long lost time with some dear people I once knew, and upon waking realized just how much I missed them and how much I still love them, even if they are no longer a part of my current life.

We are all one. I don't have to be in physical proximity to send my love. Distance healing has taught me that.

So, this morning I will release my sadness and longing for what could never have been (people change so much and grow apart over the years), and instead send these two old friends some love from my spiritual self to theirs.

We are all One. My dear old friends  are as much a part of me as they always were. I wish them well. I wish everyone well and send all of humanity love on this fine morning.

Forgotten but remembered again

Crazy dizzy head, shooting pains. I dream of blonde boys from so long ago and then it falls back into NM dreams. Listen to NIN. Got to be one of the best bands ever. With Teeth one of the best albums. And I find myself wanting to go back...hiding in the trees, like in Portland...an attempted escape from myself that failed. There I was and here I am.

I have forgotten the long journey that got me to this place. I have pushed aside the love in search of ego dreams. I have lost a soul mate to the Universe again and again. He wears a different face. He is the artist. He is the philosopher and a poet, and a student of spirituality. He is my mirror. He is me. He has the darkest eyes that reflect myself back again. And I run from him as he runs from me, but we are on the same plane and though we may never meet again,  we cross paths again and again, because we are one, always together, living in the rippled illusion of the broken frame.

I have forgotten myself. Even death can not tear apart those united. Nor can time or space. It is all an illusion as I live here now in this physical place, becoming my ego self and forgetting once again. Nothing matters. I float on the love of the Universe, listening to the songs I sing to myself, my spirit sings to me. I miss him. And I miss him. I miss her, lost friend. And I miss him again. Time passes and I grow old in this body but my mind is ever young, searching for those who came before, hoping for some recognition as souls unite again.

Listen to the messages

Ah, man, it's just not right. I woke with a headache and tried to push it away , telling myself it was a sinus thing, or an eye thing...snow and bright sunshine, but not really wanting to listen to the voice that told me the things I had been looking forward to for days might not be what I expected. I did not want to hear it. Definitely did not, for today was the day I was going to see that house that might turn out to be our future homestead.

I don't think it is. I don't think it can be. It's just not right, and in fact, my mood got more dismal and sour the longer I stayed at said house in the woods. I felt trapped, like someone was trying to catch me in a giant butterfly net and force me into some beautiful insect habitat, complete with flowers and all the things a butterfly could want, but a cage none-the-less.

It was someone else's vision, and it is hard to overcome a dream of a hand built house created with so much love and personal toil, a house that could expand and be modified to fit me and my life, but a house that carries the ghosts of those who came before, and I'm not sure it is my place to require change in a space that was not created for me or my wild children.

It's just not right. And that makes me sigh in sadness, because I so wanted it to be, like a dream almost realized. But, if I ignore my gut feelings like I have so many times before and fall head first into a situation that is not good for anyone, I will be telling myself  "I told you so," even as I dig out of the negativity and try to fly free again. I can't go there, I'm afraid.

So, I will stay here, in this place and rethink my options, even as I stare at my high desert land waking up to spring and appreciate the beauty of the Junipers, the Pinon Pines, the sparse prairie grasses and even the cacti. I will watch the birds that have come to live on our land since we brought the flowers, the compost, and the gardens. I will appreciate all that we have accomplished in our two short years here and wait for the season to come into bloom. I will find joy in the rabbits hopping down the path, the quail bringing their babies out for a walk, and the blue sky. I am honored to live in the shadow of the Wet Mountains...a pristine wilderness landscape that greets me every single day.

Maybe this place is right, for right now anyway.

Bio-domes?

Feeling overwhelmed by the state of the world. Egypt...GM alfalfa...global warming past the point of no return...everyone getting cancer...And by the state of myself as I struggle with the weight I put on by eating real food, like butter and homemade bread.

Felt inspired for a minute and possessed by a muse I barely recognized as I painted for four days until "Utopia" was done. It may not amount to much, but it sure was interesting painting it, getting lost in the zone. It has been a long, long time since I allowed myself the luxury of being spontaneously creative. I enjoyed it immensely.

Lost in fantasy, I dream of giant hoop houses that grow pure, organic, natural and uncontaminated alfalfa and hay for my goats and llamas. Each hoop house could have a bee hive to pollinate the plants, and the bees would never leave, so they wouldn't be poisoned by the chemicals sprayed over the new genetically modified alfalfa. Soon, if we want a garden at all, one that is not contaminated, we will have to grow it under cover.

That got me thinking about moving my family into the hoop house too. Why not? The plants, people, and animals could all live in a cleaner environment than our good old beloved Earth. What ever happened to the bio-dome experiments of the eighties? We could sure use that technology and research data now to survive our future.

Who builds bio-domes these days? Who has the knowledge to create a self-contained eco-system within a space that could house a family and their livestock? A ranch under plastic? Creates new meaning to greenhouses when you farm and live in one. This may be the only way we can grow safe, uncontaminated food for ourselves and our families. And, as the atmosphere continues to suck up mankind's poisons, wouldn't it be nice to have some clean air somewhere? A whole little eco-environment. Kind of like the Earthships, but on a grander scale. Every family would have to be self-supporting and self-contained in their bio-dome. If you eat meat, it sure would make you rethink your choices if you had to share your bio-dome with your cows. In a smaller space, those cow farts would add up quickly, creating a new bio warming right in the house you live in. Couldn't blame it on someone else then, could you?

You could grow your own food, and grains for your livestock, all within your bio-dome home. A little piece of earth, before humans destroyed the real thing. We could look out across the land and see everyone else, in their respective bubbles, trying not to contaminate their second chance home. Is that what my painting was trying to convey?

I do have to say though, as everything spins out of control, that I wish I lived in an earthen home--Earthship or Earthbag or old style, real adobe--something that would protect my family from the crazy heat and cold fluctuations we are starting to experience. That is the dream. Either we can retrofit this manufactured home we live in, by banking it with Earthbags, or we can find a spot to build a house that will survive the climate nightmares of the next fifty years. Maybe we can do both. Will the neighbors object to us building new walls of Earthbags around our existing walls? What about the town? Do we need a permit for that? It sure would eliminate some of our wind issues. Maybe we could just pull a giant piece of greenhouse plastic over our two and a half acres.

Maybe we should all retrofit our houses with Earthbags or rammed earth tires, or just turn those suburban tract homes into earth bermed structures....dump a mountain of dirt on one side (north is best...leave the sunny south side open to absorb the heat your going to need when our coal and gas powered furnaces no longer work). We have all got to rethink this mess and figure out how we are going to survive the climate change (heat and cold, massive storms, crazy wind, rising tides) and forget about government red tape. If I listen to the boys in charge anymore I am doomed.

It is time for a global revolution. It is time we stood up for ourselves and our right to life, as the current living beings we are. I'm not talking about abortion here. I'm talking about the people alive right now who inhabit the planet. Don't they have the right to go on living, to survive the mess created by the men in charge? Doesn't that entitle us to collect rainwater if that is our cleanest and cheapest source of water? I think so. Here in Colorado, it is illegal, but I'm done caring. The times they are a changin' and my family needs water to grow food and to drink. Screw the government and permits and farmers down the river who grow poisoned alfalfa and chemically saturated produce that they expect us to eat. No more!

This mama is mad, fed up and ready to jump into action to ensure the survival of her little ones. Maternal instinct is kicking in and the possibilities are endless for me to get involved and make a difference. Join me.
Help change the world. Join the revolution. Build a bio-dome.

Teachers and that little devil EGO

In this time of materialism and big spending, I have lost sight of myself. But, even before the season of consumerism was upon us, I had become an ogre of the grandest proportions, ranting and raving over this and that, forgetting every spiritual word I have ever read, apparently. Who am I to judge anyone for the path they take? No one. Who am I to think I know more than anyone else on this small planet, especially when it comes to health and well-being? No one. I suffer in my own right. Would not a more enlightened being avoid creating such chaos in the first place? Maybe. Maybe not.

I look at my relationships with my children, with my spouse, with my extended family and wonder what I am missing in the bigger picture? Are they not my teachers? Yes they are. And when I allow them to "get" to me, is that not a sign that EGO is running this show? Yes, it is.

I have been living in EGO time for a while now, concerned with furthering the cause of health, locally grown food, searching for a sustainable environment to hide away and watch the world fall apart around me. Then I could look at everyone else who thought I was crazy, and say see, I told you so. What is that about? EGO. Just because my causes might be nobler (?) does that excuse the higher self from having some control over the petty child EGO? No. We should ever be aware of EGO's subtle attempts to hoodwink us into a state of unconsciousness where we exist through each and every day, unaware of what is really important.

And what is really important? That is the big question, isn't it? Sure, living a healthy and spiritual life is good. Include in those lofty goals eating right, exercising, meditating, and doing our part to save the planet, and we sure get caught up in ourselves once again. No matter how you look at it, I could be putting info out there that I think is beneficial on the movement to sustainability, but what am I really doing but feeding my EGO? I could write a book, but when I think about any book that is lucky enough to be successful is fodder to feed the "machine," do I want to participate? Maybe. I'd like to have a little bit of success before I die, but how can I do that without being a part of the problem?

I admire people like Ani Defranco who started her own record label and stuck with it, even though it was harder and took longer than signing a record deal with one of the big boys. She did not feed the beast, but she found hard earned success in her own right, because she is a brilliant artist who has something important to say. Good for her. If more of us could learn from her example and never forget that IT isn't about money or how many people know your name, but instead about getting the message out, the message that we have all been hoodwinked by our EGOS into believing that we have to participate in this EGO infested world that is intent upon destroying its own self to get to the top of the mountain.


This month I have been playing King of the Hill. Maybe last month too. My hill consists of information about health and cures for disease, about permaculture, sustainable gardening, naturally grown foods, eco friendly housing, environments that will support life if and when our society collapses. Whatever. My information may be insanity to some and worthwhile to others, but it doesn't really matter. By judging others on the basis of what they don't know, or how they choose to spend their time, I am just a petty Napolean, a bully dressed in spiritual robes.

My oldest daughter sent me a nasty note this week about how I have failed her and continue to do so. About how she's disowning me again and how I will never be a part of her future...her marriage, her graduations, her children. She's done this to me more than once, and every time I cry and re-examine my past with her and try to figure out just what happened that we arrived in such a pitiful state? And then I told her good luck, lots of love and God speed. Whatever. At some point I begin to realize the games people try to play with me, ensnaring my EGO in anger and self-pity, and wonder how I so easily fall into the same traps?

They are my teachers. My beautiful, talented and gifted oldest daughter is one of my biggest challenges, and one of my biggest teachers, for every time I fall into this pattern of behavior, I must stop, shake myself hard out of the EGO induced sleep I am in, and realize I am only a puppet in the hands of my EGO. What would the higher self do? Not react, that's for sure, but that is what I do, nine times out of ten.

When we realize that the players in our lives have their own parts to play out in their own dramas, and the little cameos they play in our own story are just the briefest of interactions, destined by fate to teach us, if we are willing. We must be open-minded and aware, practicing the ability to recognize every interaction from a spiritual perspective rather than from an EGO perspective, and God forbid we should miss them. But the Universe, being of a cyclical nature will bring it around again so we can have another shot at the same message. Aren't we lucky?

So what is important? I'm beginning to think this life is nothing more than an endless array of spiritual tests and lessons, a grand working school of experiences and mistakes that we can only hope to glean the true meaning from. And we keep doing it, over and over and over, like some cosmic teacher is trying to pound it into our heads like a grade school exercise of repetition.

To me, I think it is about love. Fighting the EGO and living EGOless so that we might help our fellow spiritual walkers on the great journey to know GOD or SPIRIT or SELF or the UNIVERSE, or TAO or ALL THAT IS or NOTHING AT ALL. Impart whatever wisdom you have to those who ask and live your life from a place of example. Be the change.

We may drive ourselves to extinction as a human race if we continue on our path of destruction. Okay. It is what it is. I feel compelled to do what I can to change the direction of our future. I'd like to have a green planet that can sustain life for my little kids to grow up in. But, I will also teach others what I know, what I learn, in an effort to help others live a simpler and more sustainable life, if they choose. I know many people will never get off the couch, because that is what they choose to do. Repetition. It doesn't change until you learn the lesson. Wake up!!!! I will try hard not to judge even the right wingers. They have their place in the grand scheme, even if it is only for someone like me to speak out against.

My journey is about mastering the bastard EGO that I fight every minute of every day. When I recognize the little devil for who he is, then he fades and my higher and more intelligent self can get a word in. I am disgusted that I have been lost in the darkness of EGO depths for some time. Christmas is what it is. I don't have to find it evil because it supports so much of what I refuse to believe or participate in. It is what it is. Perception changes everything (right Cole, my old friend?). I choose to love instead of hate. I will try to give information to those who want to hear it, but no longer force my ideas on anyone else. I will find health and be an example, choosing to do my part to live greener and cleaner. I will be creative and share the results with others, if they are interested. We can create a Utopia of peace and a green, clean, sustainable planet where everyone is equal and everyone acts out of love and kindness and the only personal goal is to help others find and experience the shared joy that IS.

I love you, my children, my daughters, for the lessons you bring to me, but I will not participate in any acts of hate and vengeance directed at anyone, including my own self. That's not the way I work. I love you. I love you. I love you. And I am here in spirit for you always, but if you can't be nice, we have nothing to talk about. That goes for everyone else on the planet too. Don't bring your negative garbage into my self-made fantasy of Utopia. Let me live my bliss and you go out and find yours. (Maybe it is on the couch in front of the TV.) At least in my few years on this planet I can have my own moments of joy.

I know. That's still EGO talking. Slippery fellow, isn't he? No one can influence my reality unless I let them. I create the story. It is mine. I guess I still have a ways to go down my own spiritual road.

When silence speaks

View from our Taos house

I came across some old photos of the house we built in New Mexico, and it really made me nostalgic for the days when I thought I was going to live in an adobe house, or in this case, old adobe barn converted to a house. It was a wonderful place, the old dairy barn from the hippy commune next door, the commune featured in the movie "Easy Rider." How much better could it get? I had the sage brush surrounding me and the Taos mountains looking protectively down upon our little homestead. It was so right, until it went so wrong.

Looking back, I can see the nudges from the Universe, the little whispers that told me it wasn't right, but I allowed myself to be pulled further into a shared dream and I couldn't see my way out of the rose colored room until I ran smack into a wall. Face first. Talk about a reality check. Things went from rosy and magical to downright depressing as our dream house turned into the house that couldn't be built. I began to attach bad feelings to the place, and saw signs everywhere that said "Get out! You don't belong here in this art community." I felt like I was being rejected by the great and mysterious Taos mountain. And maybe I was.

Only in Taos

We ended up back in Colorado, the black hole of my existence (it keeps pulling me back, no matter how far I go or how long I stay away), and a friend told me that perhaps the great mountain that I grew up in the shadow of was even more powerful than the one in New Mexico. Maybe. But I had no love for Pikes Peak, not like I loved the essence of New Mexico...the quirkiness, the heat, the snow, the mud, the environmentalists, the artists, the writers, the movie stars, the sage brush, the ravens and bears...all of it. I was so in love with a place that was more, it was a state of being, and it was me.

I spent years dreaming of going to the land of the lizard, the home of my spirit, and when I made it there, I blew it, pulled into a romance of convenience, of mindless existing, and my spirit stopped speaking. I spent the first year in Taos, wondering where my spirituality had gone, where the guardian spirits that used to walk along beside me, had gotten themselves off to. Everywhere was silence. It was the most beautiful place I could ever hope to be, and my heart sighed every single time I walked out the door of our little rented adobe house. When I looked at the sage, I couldn't help but smile. I was home. But it was too quiet. The animals didn't come to bring me messages, the wind no longer whispered, and the river's babbling was a foreign language to me. What had I done to lose myself in the land where I thought I was going to find it all?

I hated the silence. I hated that the Universe seemed closed to me. I wasn't meeting the right people and nothing seemed to be falling into place. But I refused to listen, refused to give up my dreams of latilla fences and adobe walls. Funny how it all works out and how sometimes we aren't given a choice anymore. I was being pulled away from the land of my dreams and back to a place I couldn't wait to get away from.

I still don't know for sure why I couldn't live in Taos, but I hope all of New Mexico isn't closed to me. I still harbor great fantasies about Earthships and sagebrush and quiet nights full of stars and clean air. I know this uninteresting house we live in now isn't it either...is it? And someday, maybe if I'm ever so lucky, I can return to the land of my heart and spend some small amount of my life hanging out in an adobe house in the middle of the high mountain desert, and maybe I'll even paint a little as I pay homage to the late, great Georgia O'Keefe, who understood and gave in to her love of the New Mexican, desert land.

Now I understand that the silence was the message, and if I had taken the time to shut up and stop looking, to enjoy the quiet and connect to it, I would have found a peace so pure it would have eliminated any doubt I was having about my connection to all things spiritual. For in the silence is the knowing--the greatness of the Tao, the power of the Universe, everything and nothing all wrapped up into one big, beautiful ball of wholeness. In the silence. By searching, I missed what was staring me in the face. And maybe it wasn't about Taos not wanting me there, but about my own closed mindedness, which the energy reflected out and away from such a creative and loving place. Or, maybe my Ego got scared of losing itself in the silence and created a situation where it could gain the upper hand by sending me out of such a spiritual and enlightened space.

One day soon, I will again attempt to venture south into the land where my heart lives, to see how it all "feels" to me now, ten years later. And I will remain open to whatever may come, even the blessed silence, for in that simple meditation of listening to the nothing, I can feel myself as I am connected to everything else. Maybe that is enough.

Art in words

All is not lost. I have been working on the farm logo (It is art...it is!) and even painted a watercolor of a background mountain scene. I am dedicated to the dream.

Art. Remember the act of creation? Like some little miracle where the artist becomes a mini-god, or taps into the GOD power that is inherent in talent. Supplied with an abundant source of infinitesimal energy, that same artist is free, inspired to create from the nothing, from the unknown. What a state of mind. What a divine state of being. Bliss.

In writing there is an artfulness, a communion with the muse that speaks in the tongue of the blank page, waiting to be filled, lusting after the words.

EGO be damned! It is a short ride, this life, and I want to enjoy the scenery as I paint it, I want to smell the roses as I describe them in prose.

Isn't it by the very act of simplifying one's life that one discovers the true importance of passion? What makes us sing? What makes us dance to the rhythm of the Universe so we feel the heartbeat of the Earth through our feet, in our bones, resonating into every action we choose to partake in?

Today I farm the Earth, taking only as much as I give, and sharing the abundance. Today I love the creatures that surround me, giving me their gifts of presence, and I am honored to be their caretakers in this moment. Today I write words and I am grateful that the letters fall so easily into place, filling blank space with ideas. Today I love as I am loved and cherish the artful moments that are this life.

Farm blog

I'm also writing a farm blog that details our homesteading adventure. If you are interested in micro-farming or homesteading, check out this blog http://onelittlefarm.blogspot.com/. While I will continue to blog at this site (K's Bloomin' Art Garden)it will primarily be spiritual ranting and raving and lessons learned, and if I'm lucky, I might detail some art project I'm working on.

Speaking of art, I've been working on a painting out of acrylic of a fairytale castle scene for my son. I have painted several paintings for my children over the years, but nothing for my two year old boy, as of yet. Since my office/studio/spare bedroom/storage space has become the farm bird hospital, I haven't worked on the painting, which is slow going anyway. Maybe I could get it done for Christmas?

I try not to forget the art and have several projects in mind. I collect recycled materials (like the cardboard tubing the greenhouse plastic came on--what a great material to use in a sculpture project) and dream of days when there will be more time to dedicate to art.

For now, with two little ones in tow, my husband and I are working on building our own sustainable paradise here in the Rocky Mountains of Southern Colorado. I hope that in the future, when we can support ourselves off of our own land and ingenuity, I can spend more time playing in paint. What a day that will be...when the muse is set free!

I Believe

Well, my sister decided to go through with the chemotherapy as treatment for her cancer. I read it on Facebook. It's been hit and miss talking with my immediate family these days. My mother doesn't call so much and I'm never sure what's going on. I worry. I can't say I agree with my sister's decision, but it is her decision and I hope it works.

I still get that horrid feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think of the future and my family. I believe it is our duty to do everything in our power to stay healthy and prevent cancers and other diseases from happening to us. I believe we do have the choice to stay healthy, if we stay conscious about what our mind, body and spirit require. Listen....

I believe in the power of thought and in meditation as a lifelong practice to reach our inner selves and the Source power. I believe in Yoga and in physical activity as a meditation and as a means to live a long, healthy life. I believe in being present, letting go of the past and the future, and living in the now. What can I do today, right here, right now to bring me closer to my dreams and perfect mind body health?

I believe in compassion, resilience and peace for everyone. No more wars!!! I believe everyone has an equal right to air, water, food and health. I believe that we are all one, sharing this moment, on this earth...one giant living organism. If one part hurts, we all hurt and live in dysfunction. We must band together and love ourselves, each other and the planet. There is no room for judgment, elitism, egotism, or the exclusion of any one part. No room. Stop the stupidity.

I believe in natural healing and positive thinking. I believe in living responsibly and being aware of our own actions and how that might affect others, including humans, animals, plants and the Earth.

I believe the revolution of enlightenment is underway. And I know I can only do my part to encourage others to join, to awaken from the mindless capitalism culture we have been raised and brainwashed into. What is it all for? At the end of the day what do we have and what can we say?

It is my goal to speak these words before I go to sleep each night "I did my part to bring awareness to the world and to help repair our injured Earth."

Namaste

Who am I?

Where is my community? Where is my fellowship of artists and writers and free-spirited, enlightened individuals who won't look at me like I'm the crazy relative every time I open my mouth?

I'm having a hard time, a really hard time, trying to live in my ego space right now, with every crazy thing going on. I don't want to be alone, but when I look at my life, I realize I have always been alone--an outsider in my own family, the one who never fit in. Ironically that has not changed, but the abyss of separation seems to have grown larger. I look at my extended family and see more differences. And I am the one to not judge, to not notice the things that make us all live such vastly different lives. It's like I really do live on another planet. I guess that's okay, and it was one of the reasons I tried so hard to get away when I was so young.

On this day, I'm trying to rethink my own existence. Who am I? The age old question. I am a daughter and a sister. But I am also a mother and a wife, an individual struggling to just be herself. Sometimes I am an artist and occasionally I am a writer. Mostly I am just me. No apologies there. I don't fit in any box. I never have and I never will.

One day this week I woke up and thought "What a beautiful life I have here on my little farm with the birds singing outside and my children all healthy." The warm sun shined in through the kitchen window and I stared into the distance at the beautiful Wet Mountains and truly enjoyed a moment. I am thankful for that. I am grateful for the stars in the midnight blue sky, and the quiet that lives here with me in the country.

I may be a little odd to my family and some of my friends, but I wouldn't change any of it. I'm loving the farm adventure and I'm trying to be honest with myself in my own beliefs. I'm still on my spiritual journey, trying to know and master myself and my tired old Ego. That's the best I can do.

The chaos comes closer

Where do I begin to catch up? With my seventeen year old flying the coop? With my older sister finding out she has cancer? It has been tumultuous as of late. I think I'm walking through an emotional minefield.

I feel like my advice and opinions mean so little to everyone around me. Perhaps it is time to be silent. Time to meditate. Time to pray.

The farm is off and going, one year strong. I brought the llama babies home and have been working to become their trusted friends. We now have five goats--all adult female dairy goats. R has been milking Tres and Amelia since they gave birth. He makes soft cheeses flavored with spices, which are a big hit with his coworkers and Co-op members. We sold one dairy share and are thinking of trying a CSA next summer with our garden produce and eggs.

The babies are getting big...2 and 3 now and a handful of energy and willfulness.

I started another blog, a farm blog, http://onelittlefarm.blogspot.com/ which I've been meaning to do for a while now. I got right on it, hoping to set up a donation sight to help with Terry's alternative treatment. I'm not sure she's going to try any alternative treatments, which has me really concerned. Needless to say, I haven't been so gung ho about trying to raise money.

And R is still trying to decide if he really wants to be a farmer. Big news on top of the rest of it. I've been walking from one devastating piece of news to the next. I guess if R bails, I'll try to do it alone. It isn't impossible. I might be able to. We will see.

LLama babies and big plans

I'm getting eager to get my llama babies and bring them home. Dark Vador and Turbo Booster are the names they were given. Sweet boys. But with Christmas around the corner and R spending every cent we had on fencing for the llama and goat pasture, I fear there's nothing left to make a payment on my llama babies this week. That stresses me out a bit. It'll work out.

Been reading about prickly pear cactus, and how to make jams and jellies. Sounds like a new adventure just waiting to happen. We have our share of the little cacti growing wild around the property. I guess the fruits are to be harvested in September or so, so I'll have to wait a while, but I'll keep my eyes open for the little fruits growing on top of the paddle shaped cacti out in the fields. Exciting.

We have plans to build an earth bermed root cellar to store our vegies in when we have an abundance. I hope that is next year. And plans to build a small greenhouse out of the glass doors and windows we found cheap on Craig's List. R is getting some vacation time next week and maybe we can work on some of these things. We also got some trees in the mail from the Arbor Foundation and I was hoping to line the driveway with them. Add a little color and visual interest to our desert dry land. If we could come up with a system to redirect the water from our roof gutters to the new trees, we'd be all set.

So much to do, even in the cold time of the year. But, I'm happy to report the days are in the upper 40's, low 50's again. Now, that's more like it.

The sun shines again

It's finally warming up into the 40's again. Feels like a heat wave compared to the frigid cold we were having. The goats are spending their nights back outside in their own little shelter.

Spent the weekend delivering Christmas presents to friends and family. I always make tins full of fudge and cookies to give out for the holidays. It's great fun and I think everyone should have fudge for Christmas. It's one of the things I can give when money is tight.

Still dreaming of big old farmhouses, but now I'm thinking of New Mexico landscapes. Do the two go together? The lots are still for sale next to our property here, and I wonder about buying one or more to add to our homestead. We should research what that would take. So many dreams, so little money.

My darling teenage girl is thinking about going into the Job Corps. Montana. So far away. I think it may be a positive step for her, if she can get in. A planned out future and goals to work for, so when she finishes she will be successful and self-sufficient, and possibly happy. It may turn into a very good thing and a wonderful opportunity.

And I am trying so hard to get back into an exercise routine. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Today was a good day and I did my Wii yoga and strength training and ran for twenty minutes, which is about four miles in Wii distance. Not bad. I sure feel better both physically and emotionally when I exercise. I also am trying to write in my journal on a more frequent basis, and although I'm not writing anything significant or particularly artistic, at least I am writing again. Perhaps one day I will begin to write poetry again.

I lost a friend a while back and that weighs heavy on my heart sometimes. He was a phenominal poet, an artist, a kind soul, a colleague in the local art cause, and a beautiful person. He took his own life and I feel a lot of pain over that. He was one of the few in my city who gave local, unknown artists shows and he helped me raise funds and have an art show when I was publishing my local art magazine. Overall, he was a good guy and I will miss him horribly. I'm sorry he decided to leave, but I hope things are better for him wherever he has gone.

Mostly I still just try to get through each day, wondering how to stay present in times that are so tough, both financially and emotionally. One second at a time.

Snow, snow and more snow

It's still snowing. I think it's been three days now. I shovel and put on my big old mud boots from Taos days and go out to feed the chickens and the goat babies. It's freezing too. Nights down in the single digits. We put the goats in the big chicken coop with the chickens. I thought it was just too cold. They all seem to be getting along fine.

The goats come to the gate when I call "Here goat babies." It's so wonderful. They are the cutest.

Made a meager payment on my llama babies. I wish I could pay them off and bring them home, but we still have to put up a fence for them and build their barn. In due time.

The sun came out today and warmed up the house, but when I stepped outside it was still so bitter cold. But it's melting, slowly, and that makes me feel good. The path I shoveled on the patio is now dry and clean. I miss my 50 degree winter days. So do the little dogs. Poor things. Even with their coats on, they freeze in a matter of minutes and come limping to the door. They need little tiny shoes. I wonder if they'd wear them?

With this weather, there is not much progress on the goat barn or the fence either.

Snow in Southern Colorado

It's cold and snowing here in my normally warm region. The moisture is much needed, but I don't care for the cold. Me and my little chihuahuas are desert rats at heart and prefer to bask in the warm sunshine whenever possible.

I've been following a blog about a young woman trying to create her own homestead in the northeast. http://coldantlerfarm.blogspot.com/ She wrote a wonderful book called "Made From Scratch" and periodically writes for Mother Earth News. She is having a hard time right now and my heart is with her. She is an inspiration to me as a writer and as a fellow homesteader and I wish her well. I understand how hard things can be when you are renting, and sometimes even when you own property.

I think things are tough for so many people right now, which is why we decided to go ahead and make our move to the country. Even if the property is not ideal, it is doable for a while and maybe it's all we can ever have. I can be okay with that. I think about how to turn our double wide into a sustainable house, adding solar panels and changing the roof line a tiny bit to allow for a clear story to bring warmth into the north side of the house. It really is a nice home and one entire side (70 feet) is south facing, which means when the sun shines, the furnace rarely comes on. Unfortunately we can't leave all of the rooms open because the little ones would be into everything, so the rooms on the north are considerably colder than the rest of the house, well, about five degrees. It's okay, we deal with it fine, but I wonder about putting cement bricks along the north wall, essentially residing the house to give it thermal mass. I'd like to put a sun room and studio on the south side with tile floors to soak up the warmth. Anything is possible, but everything takes money, which is in short supply these days. So we improvise.

I put an add on Craig's List asking for old, discarded whole tires so we can build a retaining wall along the front driveway of the house. Those are easy, lots of people have tires to get rid of. I'm still looking for fencing. Field fence would be great, enough to fence our two and a half acres would be divine, but I fear fence is in high demand and we will probably have to buy it out of pocket at retail price. Expensive, and I'm not sure where that money is going to come from, but I have to keep my goats and llamas safe. They are our real investment right now.

I have faith that it will all work out. The money will show up from somewhere. We will get through Christmas the best we can and the new year will be better. This is the life I've been dreaming about for so many years and I am determined to make it work.

Another Day

Another day on the homestead. The weather is wonderful, warm and sunny, I love southern Colorado. Nice enough to not need a jacket in the afternoon, but it sure cools down at night. I'm glad the chickens are in a warmer place. The big coop is almost done now. R put up the last of the outside walls and cut a door. He's working on their nesting shelves and roosts. Soon, little ladies, soon. I have lots of people asking for eggs, but not enough to sell. We have to get more chickens. Keeping my eyes open on Craig's List for layers.

The goats are doing well. They beg for hay like dogs, the little brown Nubian standing up with two legs resting on the fence. I worry that they will figure out that their temporary pen is not really strong enough to hold them. But for now they seem content, spending their days munching on the weeds and lying in the warm sunshine. They are still so cute.

Our family therapist came for her weekly visit (much needed due to the circumstances of life with an unhappy teenage girl) and we talked animals when the session was over. She wants to learn more about goats and milk and making cheese. She may have a horse trailer I can borrow to go get my llamas. Yippee! No more livestock in the minivan. I'm growing more and more fond of her.

I have been reading and reading about llamas and goats. Mostly about fiber. Excited to be thinking artistically again. I think I can make felt without too much hassle and I can use that to make some wonderful things, like toys for the little ones, and blankets for me. I'm so eager to begin. But first, a pen and barn for them and of course I have to pay them off. I can't wait to have the cute little guys join our growing homestead.

And we work on the soil. Always. R picks up leaves from around town and pulls cardboard out of the recycle bins so we can sheet mulch some of the areas we hope to plant next year. I thought there'd be more snow by now, but I guess the season is still young. Our soil here is like dust, no organic material at all. The cactus like it. I'm hoping the goats will like the cactus, especially the awful chollo that dots our small piece of land.

I'm looking for an old, cheap travel trailer with working plumbing and electricity. I thought it'd be a perfect little art studio, out in the few trees we have. Our views of the mountains are phenomenal. We've got the front range and Pikes Peak to the north and my favorite, the Wet mountains to the south. I've been thinking of trying the watercolors again. Not too much mess there.

There is hope still for this mom who'd like to get back to painting. But in the meantime, I am so in love with my animals, and busy with my children, it's not all bad. I dream of the future...that's not living in the NOW...but wouldn't it be nice if...

Goats and LLamas

We got goats! Three of them. We drove an hour and a half out into the boonies to get them, and put them in the back of the minivan. Now, let me tell you, there was enough space for three goats, sure, and I put down an old vinyl tablecloth and a dropcloth on top of that, and I thought I was adequately prepared. I sat in the back with them, with two chihuhuas on my lap, and the rest of the family sat in the front. They are sweet goats, not biters or anything, but they must have been nervous because I think between the three of them they pooped and peed every ten or fifteen minutes. I had to keep pushing butts away from my lap so I didn't become part of the growing stinky mess in the back of the van. It was dark when we drove home, and I could only imagine the lake of filth channeling itself around the van as we went around curves and over bumps. And the smell was horrendous. But, we made it. Had to stop at Wal-mart to pick up a couple of collars and leashes for them, and when we got home, we had to put them in the only fenced yard we have, which is next to the house. They immediately began chomping down on our newly planted trees and bushes, as R race to put up the last section of their temporary pen. What a night. I don't recommend goats in the car, although the mess didn't turn out to be as bad as I imagined.

So our goats are milking goats. One Saanen named Trace, one Nubian, I forgot her name, and one Cashmere mix named Cinnamon (I got her because she was so cute). The first two are about two years old and hopefully pregnant, due in March, and my little Cashmere is nine months old and really just my baby. Another little pet to add to my collection. Sure, if I breed her, we could milk her too, and we might, but I'm thinking more along the lines of using her as a fiber goat. They are all happy now in their pen, the cutest little creatures.

Yesterday we drove another hour to look at mini llamas. Who'd thought? I've wanted llamas for about ten years or so. I thought it'd be great to learn to spin and make blankets and rugs. Anyway, of course the llamas are adorable. They always are. I put a deposit down on two boys, a gray and a black, and hopefully will be picking them up in January sometime. Now, the lady there said I could put them in the mini van and that they lay down when they travel, nice and easy. But I don't know about that. R and I spent an hour cleaning and shampooing the carpet in the van and it looks brand new. Do I want to go through that again? Maybe without passengers, but I'm thinking I need to find an old horse trailer for cheap or maybe rent or borrow one.

So now R is finishing up the chicken coop and began a goat barn on the hill side of our little homestead. The llamas can live there too. The idea is that they will protect the goats from predators, and so they will be pastured and penned with them. And I get more fiber. I better learn fast how to shear and process llama wool. Exciting.

The homestead is really starting to grow. I feel so ignorant right now. I have so much to learn about all of these animals and gardening. The adventure is really underway.

Time passes and we move to the country

Wow, how I've let it all go. The writing, the art, everything for me. And now, I'm damn mad. Angry and bitter inside, to go with the negative attitude my sixteen year old is carting around. The babies are bigger now, and much more work. The significant man in my life is still a man, and we are having our own share of issues. Perhaps the stress of moving, finally, has accumulated into one big dysfunctional family situation.

I've been dreaming of a self-sustainable lifestyle for years. At one point I wanted nothing more than to move to NM, build an Earthship and live off the arts and crafts I made with my own two hands. I wanted to throw everything away and begin again, allowing only handmade items into my house. I started quilting and making clothes for my two little girls. But the dream was put on the back burner for a while as I finished college and found a crummy job to make ends meet. We did make it to NM eventually, and remodeled an old adobe barn into a passive solar house, but that was more about the man in my life and less about living sustainably, and that's another story. Now he's jumped on the bandwagon, I'm happy to say.

In July of 09, we found a piece of property in southern Colorado with a manufactured home on it (yep, a double-wide, but new...2006).



Only two and a half acres, but it was all we could find in our price range. And they allow chickens. I got ten chicks in March and we bought a chicken barn and kept them in the backyard when the weather got warm enough. Turns out one of the chicks was a rooster. Oops. Not allowed in the city. Our realtor had an uncle who took him with one of the hens. He lives in the country. That was when we were thinking we'd never find a place. Financing is crazy these days and we only qualified for an FHA loan. Well, they have lots of stipulations about properties, and many of the old houses I liked would never qualify. So here we are in a very nice, modern, clean and FHA passable manufactured home. Not perfect. The house has no personality. The land is dry, on the verge of desert like, but it's what we can do now. I'm okay with that. Maybe.

I still dream of an old farmhouse on lots of land with no covenants, but Maine is far too cold and way too far away. Sometimes I drive around this rural farming community and look for my old house. I found it yesterday. Perfect old Victorian surrounded by pastures and it has a couple of delightful old barns too. Wonderful.



It's not for sale. And how much would it be if it was? A girl can dream...

My new best friend

I used to tell my kids that Wayne Dyer and Eckhart Tolle were my best friends. I did spend every day with them via DVD lectures. I came to know their faces and rely on their wise words to get me through the days. And then time got away from me, the babies needed more attention, the holidays were upon me and I lost track of my two old friends. I'm happy to report that I have found my way back into the warm embrace of wisdom that Mr. Dyer shares in his many books (I got a few for Christmas).

But this is about my new best friend. Along with several enticing books under the tree this year, there was also a Wii for the family. (Oh the dreaded video games.) While shopping for gifts for the babies, I saw a Wii Fit on display at our local big box toy store, and thought, hmmm...that's cheaper than a treadmill (we had been thinking of buying one for months). So I discussed it with R and we agreed that we could all get something out of the Wii system. So we waited for Black Friday and picked one up for about fifty dollars off, but could not find the Wii Fit balance board. Sold out everywhere! Luckily R picked one up off of E-bay, which cost a bit more, but we probably came out about even with our discount on the Wii.

We all enjoyed several days of Wii bowling, tennis and baseball, after which all (even the teenager)our arms were sore, as was my waist and butt. Maybe there was something to this. I'd heard the occasional news blurbs about using the Wii Fit in retirement homes and community centers to get the elderly up and active, and possibly healthier. Exciting possibilities for the post baby fat I was lugging around.

So, about a week after Christmas I decided it was time to check out the Wii Fit. My fatness wasn't going away eating fudge and cookies. I have only missed one day since. I do 35 minutes cardio and some strength and yoga training. I play with the balance games, but I have mostly given up tennis, baseball and bowling due to time constraints. All in all I spend about 45 minutes to an hour doing my "exercises." My two year old thinks it's cool and reminds everyone every time they turn on the TV to "essize" (she's finally talking, which was a big concern for us...we even had her in speech therapy for a few months).

The best part is the amusement factor. Every time I step on the balance board, the little feminine voice cries out "Ohhhh..." as if in protest of my horrendous weight. And creating your own personalized Mii, with hair color, eye color, height and body type...hilarious. My two teenage daughters and I broke up in laughter many times as we experimented with mustaches and bald heads on our otherwise girlish characters.

The two girls both ended up with enormous sunglasses on their Miis, and I recognize them as they jog past on my morning run. I get to play with my girls and they aren't even there. What's better, they never talk to me, never tell me how much they hate me and how I ruined their lives.

The only conversation I really get is with the "trainers." I started off with a male trainer because I thought that would be fun to see a sculpted young man giving me daily instruction. I got bored with him, he wasn't that cute, and moved on to the young woman with the perfect body. Yippee. She has a lot to say, but I have found her repetitive and redundant with her "you seem a little shaky" and "hold your elbow steady." Blah blah blah. I'm trying lady, I really am. I haven't told her to shut up yet, but I've been tempted. I do find myself talking to my own Mii, which the system gives its little round body to, based on my body mass index. She's a tubby little thing and I often urge her on with "run little fat girl." I used to tell her how smart she was in tennis when she hit herself in the head with the racket or missed an easy shot.

These are the people I spend my mornings with. Along with my two beautiful babies of course. I wait until baby boy is tired and then put him in his high chair. I pull him up close to me so he can watch, and he usually falls asleep as I'm halfway through my routine. Little girl runs amok, climbing on the furniture, trying to wake up her brother, screaming at cats, pulling my bookmarks out of my books, etc. Lucky for me most of the exercises are timed, so I can choose three minutes of hula hooping, or five minutes of step aerobics, which works out perfectly to give me the opportunity to be full time mom and disentangle the kids as I work out.

Yes, the Wii Fit is my new best friend, sad to say. I could use some adult conversation, but I really am getting a workout. I'm sweaty and out of breath every day when I get done. The best part...I'm actually losing weight. Not enough and not apparently on the Wii's time scale, (it reminds me that I have so many days, minutes and seconds to reach my goal) but I am losing actual pounds and inches. I wonder when that will correlate to a slim and sleek little Mii in Wii world instead of round little tubby girl?

One who taught me to be alone

While the weather here has been unbelievably warm, I have to say I sort of anticipate the cold weather of Maine. Maybe. More likely I anticipate the adventure. My life used to be so full of new experiences and people, and now I have the inside of this old house and my children to keep me company. Haven't had many enlightening conversations with my two year old lately.

Been thinking a lot today about a young man I once knew several years ago. I'll call him CC for kicks. He was a source of inspiration and irritation at a point in my life when many doors were opening and some were closing. We had an interesting relationship as coworkers in a mundane world of pizza delivery. I have to admit now that those were some of the best days of my life. I was coming out of a relationship with an African circus performer (yes indeed) who I thought was my future, but that's another story. I was angry as hell and hurt as hell and hating men in general, which is a position I find myself coming back to again and again. CC was an easy target for my angst, but it turned into something more. He was so young and so American, so spiritual and yet so scared of intimate relationships. Or so I thought. He had a dream to wander off into the wilderness and live a life of solitude. He often quoted Thoreau. He was on his way to New Mexico to build his house and live a simple life, and when I heard that, I think I fell in love. I'd been dreaming of New Mexico for years and building an Earthship and living sustainably. This young man was on his way to fulfilling one of my dreams. In the beginning of our time together he once said I could come with him. Hmmm.... that changed rapidly after I scared him to death with my neediness and confusion.

CC and I had a spiritual connection that was phenomenal, but at the time I was much more aware and open to such connections. I could "feel" his presence coming before he ever got there. He could finish my sentences and seemed to be living in a corner of my head. We had great and meaningful conversations. Mostly he told me to stop acting the fool and get real. I was running around, partying with other coworkers, trying to finish my college degree and trying to stay out of love. Ha! I did a lot of things in those days that were questionable at least morally, and I often felt lost, like I couldn't find my way back to my spiritual path if someone took me by the hand and led me. CC did that, or he tried.

Looking back I realized I failed every test he gave me, if that's what they were. I was hurt by his disconnection and longed for a real relationship, so I filled my world up with beautiful young men. It wasn't hard. They were everywhere. People I worked with, people I went to school with. And I felt if CC wasn't willing and able to be in my life, then I would fill the void with others. Perhaps he was a part of that filling as well. Who knows.

He used to accuse me of being afraid to be alone with myself. That was true. I had to be surrounded by people. I was afraid of my own thoughts. So, to prove him wrong, or to grow a bit, I signed up for an archaeology class for the summer--field school in the southeast corner of Colorado, the desert really. I think that was what tipped CC into my world really. I spent a week at a time in a tent, digging during the day and came back to work in the city on weekends, which I grew to hate. I found that my time in the wilderness was a much needed reprieve from my stupidity. Not that I didn't find playmates in field school, because I did, but mostly I had time for introspection. I sat in my tent at night and wrote in my journal and learned to be alone with myself. I even took my paints and easel to my tent but never really managed to create much of anything. But it was good time, my time. And what started off as an excuse to get away from my boys in the city turned into one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had. I hated coming back to the city. I came to feel like my tent was home and enjoyed the heat and solitude.
But I did come back, and CC and I hooked up for two amazing weekends before he ran away. He left for New Mexico at the end of that summer just as I ended my field school. He left me with questions and yearnings I can't even describe. He ran away to pursue his own Thoreau dreams and left me in a state of sadness that took me several years to overcome.

For many years his words have echoed in my head. When R and I finally moved to Taos and I was driving for a pizza place there, I used to drive past latilla fences and think nostalgically of CC. How might it have been if I had been there with him instead of with R? And when R and I bought the old adobe barn on the old commune, I thought of CC and how he might approve or disapprove of our choices. The sad thing was that I was stuck with this unfinished relationship in my head and R was never ever going to be CC as much as he reminded me of him on occasion. I kept my thoughts to myself and I never went to see CC even though I knew where he was down in the south central part of New Mexico. I was still so afraid of his imminent rejection anyway. He wanted to be alone, so I thought I should leave him alone. And I have. But now and then he shows up in my head and makes me smile. I miss him, his words and his valuable insights. I was blessed to have him in my life for the briefest of moments and I have to thank him for that.

Now, as I research Maine and read the story of the Nearings, who often quote Thoreau, CC keeps creeping back into my thoughts. I suppose we had similar goals in life and a similar outlook. I guess it's natural to wonder about him as I think of going off on my own Thoreau experiment. Of course I will still have R and the babies and a cranky teenager, which will change everything in terms of simplicity, but I have to give it a go. Life has gotten so boring here, so predictable. Once CC said "Too many people know me here. I have to move." I feel like that a lot. Even though I try to get my art out and make a name for myself (well, not lately) and I try to get my writings published here and there. I guess I don't want to be completely invisible, but I would like to have some privacy from my neighbors, from my family. And I would like to walk in the woods on unspoiled land, raise my own vegetables, and chickens for eggs, give my children a safe place to grow up and possibly have the opportunity for my relationship with R to turn into something good and meaningful and dare I say loving again?

I miss the adventure of trying something new. Life's a wastin' so I better get on with it. How will I have anything to write about if I don't go out there and live?

Musings on Maine and farmhouses

Babies, babies, babies everywhere, getting into everything. One walking, one crawling, both screaming when you try to move them away from their preferred items of interest (cords, ipods, cat tails). This is the hardest job I've ever had, really. And now, it's almost lunch time and then on to naps. Yipee!

Still thinking of Maine. Found a wonderful old farmhouse out in Charleston. Thought about it, dreamed about it, moved in and redecorated it in my mind. And then... snooping will always get me into trouble...found a comment online about a minimum security correction facility just up the road. What??? So, I thought about it some more. Can't stand the thought of worrying about my kids wandering through open fields to encounter who? And really, it probably would never be a problem, but what if it was and I knew way back when and chose to move there anyway?

So, back to the drawing board. Found an old "converted" schoolhouse some distance away from the farmhouse. Dirt cheap, but not nearly big enough. R of course thinks we can finish it and build a greenhouse....blah blah blah. I'm still waiting for my studio here in Colorado and the basement room is two and a half years going, but still not done. It is a gamble to move into a smaller house and wait for my man to get around to anything. And of course I could do some of the work, or not...as he would tell me everything I did wrong and it would be more hassle than it's worth. The question remains as to whether it's worth the price to get a piece of land and a house that is small for a move to a different and possibly better lifestyle?

Thinking about the weather too. Lately it has been mild here with days getting into the 50's. That's nice. Very nice. In Maine, what is the high? 7 degrees. Not so nice. But it is green there and we could take trips to the ocean. Ultimately I think the quality of life would be better for my children, if not for the whole family. It's definitely a safer place than our current city.

Really, if we focus on building a sustainable life, then perhaps this is the best choice. We could have this house in Maine paid off in a short time and have a tiny bit of land to do with as we choose. How we could make an income for other necessities is an interesting dilemma. We shall see. Things usually work themselves out. Or they don't, and we end up back in Colorado. I'd hate to do that again.

Home schooling and homesteading

With the holidays over, perhaps I might find time again to write something...anything, again. It has been a hectic few months, to say the least. My mood fluctuates between moderately good and absolutely horrid.

Occasionally I get e-mails from long lost friends who remind me that life is so much more than my moods. Thank you Ronni.

Yes, there will be time again to paint, to sculpt, to create. Even now, I have a work in progress which involves paper mache and making pull toys for the babies (something I saw on Martha Stewart). Sometimes I get to it, sometimes I don't.

The baby boy doesn't want to go to sleep now until 10 or 11 pm, which eliminates any time I might have for me. R is working over time again, 9am until midnight several days. Mid-December my darling fifteen year old decided she wasn't going to school anymore. What!?! So we decided the only option was to home school her. Luckily she finished out the semester and got those credits.

Both R and I have been reading home schooling books like crazy. John Holt, The Teenage Liberation Handbook, etc., trying to come up with a plan. Would it be so bad to "unschool" her? The books all insist that the teenage attitude will change and might even become loving again over time with interested parents who home school. Well, we will give it a shot. Actually, her attitude has grown better already. High school is so hard, and I get that. Her new found freedom may give her the boost she needs to get on with her life.

We have also been researching places to move...again. Why we can't stay in one place is a mystery. Wanderlust. I want to go to the desert, but R refuses and won't budge on that. He wants to go someplace that has ample water. He prefers the north, I think. But I'm not interested in Michigan or Wisconsin, so I threw out the idea of Maine. I was born there in a little town called Bath. And we have been reading the Nearings Good Life books, about their homestead in Maine, right next to the coast. Houses are cheaper there. And, I think perhaps the quality of life is a bit better. Certainly I've been trying to get out of the conservative Christian right wing mecca that I was raised in, for years. Where could I go and stay, finally? Is it Maine. Me who hates the cold and the snow? Is it possible? I told him we must be near the coast then, so I can venture out to the beach on occasion.

I have had a dream for about fifteen years of living a sustainable life. I wanted to build an Earthship and grow my own food and eliminate the need to be tied to corporate systems. After several years with me, I think R has joined in this dream to some fashion. Can we fulfill this lifestyle in Maine? Can I be cold for affordable housing, land and my freedom? Can I find my muse there, under layers of snow and ice? Who knows. And who knows if this will become reality. But today we dream, and I love to search for old farmhouses via the Internet. It can't be all bad. Dreams keep us alive. And I still have my desert dreams tucked away in a corner of my heart. Maybe they will keep me warm on long cold winter days.