Harvest Moon

(some thoughts here were written months ago)

My days have been busy navigating the summer routines of my job here. The garden work changes seasonally and with this being my first year, I'm seeing the rhythm of the work cycling through for the first time. The Sagittarius in me really enjoys the seasonal work changes and this is the first job I've had since graduating college where the boredom hasn't set in. I keep thinking of ways I can do a better job next year and it's refreshing.

Our garden harvesters, who work mostly alongside Kyle right now, will bring in the goods from the gardens and I will determine what will be processed further and preserved. Chopping, peeling and jarring are jobs that are therapeutic to the people I work with-- and each day the ones that would rather stay inside during these hot summer months sit at the table in our work kitchen and wait to hear from me how they can help with the whole process. Lately I've been in the mood to make pasta sauces. I'll put on some music and pull out three or four cutting boards from the cabinet--put a spread of tomatoes, garlic, basil and onions on the table and together we get started. Our work area fills up quickly with the savory smells of onion and garlic cooking in olive oil. We peel the skins off our tomatoes and add them in the mixture.The sweet and spicy peppers get chopped up and thrown in next, along with squash for the creaminess. Herbs are bundled up and placed in last accompanied by some salt and pepper and honey. The sauce simmers and reduces the rest of the day and the savory smells stream out into the summer air as we leave and enter our work space.

The canning occurs at the end of the day and the final step involves putting the lidded jars filled with sauce in a hot water bath for 25 minutes or so.  I wipe sweat from my face as I use tongs to pull out the finished jars and can't help but feel connected to the past by preserving food with this method. I think of my grandmother often in this kitchen. After I've collected the jars from the water, I wait to hear a little pop letting me know the lid properly sealed. And there it is- the nourishing vitamins from summer tomatoes ready to be consumed in the cold of winter.
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I have a little baby growing in my belly and a brain that can't fill itself with enough words. I've read and reread more books this summer than I think I ever have. They have been a random plethora of reading materials involving eastern spirituality, a gripping memoir of a drug addict who checked himself into rehab and saved his life, the lyrical words of Barbara Kingsolver with Animal Dreams and Prodigal Summer. My first and only parenting book and other novels based on creative living.

Elizabeth Gilbert words were inspiring,

 "...When I talk about "creative living" here....I'm talking about living a life that is driven more strongly by curiosity than by fear."

She goes on to say...

"...creative living is a path for the brave......And while the paths and outcomes of creative living will vary from person to person, I can guarantee you this: A creative life is an amplified life. It' a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life, and a hell of a lot more interesting life, Living in this manner-- continually and stubbornly bringing forth the jewels that are hidden within you- is a fine art, in and of itself."

I'm grateful to her and people like her that in humble ways pass on the wisdom they have gathered through their own life experiences. They make it clear that life can be a challenge---it can be such a fucking beautiful and sad and thrilling and mundane experience-- but they remind us to keep pushing forward through it all- keep expanding and reaching- keep experiencing- keep finding the colors and goodness.

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I thought of her words as we took off on a plane heading west for a summer trip. I always have a mini panic attack inside myself before flying and as I buckled my daughter in her seat I had scary thoughts dance around in my head. I pushed them away though. What a powerful thing positive thinking is. And you need to be brave to live creativity. The anxiety lifted as the planes wheels left the runway. We flew through the clouds and the whole trip on the other side of the continent was so freeing. We laughed and explored and camped our way down parts of the the pacific coast- all of us wide-eyed with the beauty of it all.

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And months have passed by since I started writing this post. The heat of summer has filtered through and now Autumn is here. The leaves are changing and the Monarchs are out exploring. On the weekends I've been buzzing around my house preparing and nesting for this new baby. I cherish all the little kicks and jabs I feel in my belly and think daily of what a miraculous experience carrying a baby is. I feel like a flower--constantly blooming, blooming, blooming.  Birth is approaching and I'm ready to go on that journey...I'm excited to ride the waves of contractions again and let my body work it's magic naturally and fearlessly. What a thrilling ride it all is.

high waters

The rain fell hard in the middle of the night. It pounded on our roof and made it seem like each drop was leaving its own impression on the gravel outside our window. The rush of water created a small pond under the gutter attached to the barn, and gusts of wind blew raindrops in through the window that were cold and surprising as they touched my face and arms. We closed our windows in a bit. Kyle was a little worried about the chickens outside in the field. He rolled over and hoped aloud that their coop wasn't going to hold water. Geeze- me too, I thought to myself. What a terrible sight to wake up to in the morning if that were the case.

Farming is a hard job. And sometimes sad. I think I've mention this before, but it truly is. I've been observing the sad element the most this season as I watch Kyle deal with unwanted animals either killing his own chickens or eating his crops. It's a blow to the spirit when you spend all this time planting vegetables from the greenhouse into the earth and then come out to see they were ruined the night before. All that work...

This year, too, we've had a couple chickens become sick. They seem to be withering away. A call has to be made. Someone has to deal with them and release them from this world. Someone has to dig a hole for their body. Farming is hard and sad sometimes.

We have been waiting patiently for our strawberries to come in. Sage is excited and calls them candy. I let her know it's nature's candy. The best candy. And then I feel this overwhelming amount of pressure to serve her little body right when it comes to the food I choose to put in front of her. She's no longer a baby- I can't just mash up a concoction of super foods with a sprinkle of chia seeds and spoon feed her every single bite.  She's developed a mind of her. A mind that seems to overpower me some days.
 This is part of the hardships of parenting, I tell myself. This is when I learn to fill my body with patience.
 Then a more pleasant moment will arise- a moment where I can sit with my almost- three- year- old and feel her brain taking in my thoughts as I explain the nourishing properties of the food I have for her. I tell her 'this will help your eyes see clearly...this will help your beautiful blonde hair grow down your precious back.'

Summer has arrived. I've been blissfully taking in the last one we will spend here on this farm- I sunbath near the llamas and laugh to myself as they snort at each other behind me. Occasionally I have to scare off chickens that roam around and try to peck me. The whole scenario seems perfect to me, so fitting for this place. When Sage ventures out we talk about dragons that spit out friendly fires. The kind that can painlessly dry up the tears from her cheeks if she happens to fall down and hurt her knees. She believes all the churches in town are castles and likes to pretend she is a bird with glittery wings that can fly high into the trees. I love how she views the world right now. Her thoughts always make my day more beautiful.

unfolding

The other morning I sat on the sofa and found myself mesmerized by my daughter eating her cereal.  I thought this is kind of silly, Meagan--stop staring at the poor girl- let her eat in peace. But then I realized I truly didn't want to- my eyes were glued on her and that spoon and that bowl full of milk and cheerios.  I watched closely as she skillfully scooped and then guided the contents to her mouth. Only to then do it again. And then again.  An "uh oh" would follow if any pieces fell off- which in turn would be picked up by her chubby beautiful little fingers and put right back in her mouth.

The whole moment was surprisingly an artistic one for me. Thats probably why I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I found it pretty and I don't feel a camera or really even words can describe the beauty that it all entailed. I realize, though, lifestyle art and photojournalistic art really draws me in-- and this little event struck me as a piece of my own motherhood lifestyle art- a film naturally made by my daughter for my eyes to take in- for my brain to process and file away, hopefully to remember always.

Winter is near. I can smell it in the air. The trees are becoming more and more naked by the day and frosts are becoming a morning ritual.

Kyle has started "winterizing" the farm and all the vegetables that he will be caring for over these colder months. He's also been hard at work harvesting the rest that won't make it through. They need to be sent to these last few Farmers' Markets to do what they were intended to do: provide and nourish.

I'm feeling pretty good pushing forward into the winter season. I'm not sure if it's because I can finally see my family adjusting well to a new routine since I've gone back to work part-time. But, my body feels ready to handle the cold this year and whatever else may come next.

the end of July

 Kyle's days are long right now. He's up early and in late. I've been helping him more and more with harvesting vegetables.  I even tested harvesting this week with Sage around, but it's a bit hard to pick beans and cucumbers with a curious almost  two year old wandering all over the place. Because of this I tend to help out during her naps. She usually will rest for about two hours, so this gives me time to get dirty and sweaty and knock some items of the To Do List.

The work is hard- especially right now in the heat. But, damn, it makes my body feel so good. Today as I picked away, I listened to my music, watched as my sunscreen lathered arms turned a deeper golden brown and thought about how grateful I was for the farmers hat I somehow acquired a few years back.

Our daughter discovered the sky this past week. She acknowledges its presence every time we go outside together, and wants so badly to hold the moon and clouds. I tell her that her middle name means moon and she looks at me with bright eyes full of love and appreciation. I think she's starting to understand the connection.

She's also been busy pushing around her little eggplant and her little cucumber in her stroller. Kyle gave these miniature vegetables to her as a gift from the garden. He told her they were small like her- so now she treats them, along with the rocks she has collected from the driveway, like her baby dolls. They are her precious gems, and she is such a good mamma to them.

Her overall enchantment with the world right now is pretty inspiring and entertaining to watch. The birds and butterflies!...the ants and dandelions!... the rocks and trees!....the clouds and airplanes!- all bring so much excitement to her little being!  My body fills up with joy when I hear her make dramatic noises like...Ahhh!...or...Wooahh! when we are outside. I know now to get  ready to answer questions after these noises come out of her mouth. "What is that?" and then "Why?" are asked pretty frequently, sometimes, honestly, a little too frequently.

But her enchantment with everything really has made me stop and recognize the beauty in these objects again, too. Thank you, baby girl, for that. I'm so pleased that I'm able to witness this time in her life- I'm soaking it up and breathing these memories into my body with the utmost intention because I know these early moments of understanding and learning are fleeting, they pass by so quickly, and this world won't always be so astonishing to her.

summertime: fireflies and veggies

Summer is here officially and arrived ( in my opinion) so unbelievably quickly. I cannot believe how fast June came and went. This Time-Flying-By theory associated with getting older is so true, and honestly a little scary to me.

As forecasted, the new season brought its heat and humidity. Our days have been hot and the clouds that fill the sky have looked very fluffy and full recently. Their appearance makes the various thunderstorm and tornado warnings seem real, but then nothing will happen. The clouds only let out a little rain and then carry on and migrate away.



June made me fall in love with fireflies again. I remember loving them as a little girl, but I haven't really appreciated them since like I have started to this season. At night, their glowing abilities make the fields around our home look like a gigantic blanket covered in glitter. It's absolutely beautiful and makes me feel like I should organize a Whimsical Field Dance Party. All my guests would be required to wear a glittery outfit too.


My daughter reminds me of fireflies a bit due to the fire element in her own little personality.  I put a flower on her desk the other day, hoping she would enjoy having her own flower to look at. She really did love it at first, but moments later, I found the flower on the floor and her drinking the flowers water instead of her own water. I then refilled the water and explained to her that the flower needs water to survive just like she does. She obviously didn't care what I had to say because I found her drinking the water again. See...this is the fire element I'm talking about.

There are some other limits at home that I'm trying to set for her, like: she cannot eat all the pickles in the jar in one sitting, she cannot ride the chickens; nor the dog, she cannot pretend to blow her nose with the toilet paper and then throw the whole roll into the toilet, and obviously she cannot drink the water I give to the flowers. These limits of what I need to teach my daughter not to do at this point make me laugh. I think she knows better, she just likes playing these games with us. She will even say..." it funny!" afterwards.

These next few weeks, I need to concentrate on processing and using all these wonderful vegetables my man is bringing in each day. My kitchen is full of garlic that needs to be dried and shallots that need to be cooked. I'm excited about the tomatoes that are starting to ripen and the sunflowers that are starting to open up. And, most of all, I'm loving the fresh bundles of basil that make my small, sacred kitchen area smell so good.

This summertime sun is hot and unbearable at times. I always kind of dread this time of the season because I feel like I'm constantly covered in sweat. Seeing the fruits and veggies fresh off the vine make it all worth it, though. Our powerful Sun helps provide such a bountiful amount of nutritious food for its people, it truly is an amazing process to watch.

Pressing on

 Well another season of learning and growing is on its way. Our nighttime temperatures have warmed up and the likelihood of frost is low, so Kyle and his friend/ coworker have started moving tomato plants from the green house to the garden. These baby plants can now grow freely in open space with the sky above them.

Our windows have been wide open lately.  During the day I love watching my curtains dance wildly around in the wind, and at night we are enjoying the cool breezes that travel in and touch our skin.

 Last week, Sage had fun hanging out with her friends.  Scarlet being one of them- and a chicken being the other.  Sage really likes to try and feed the chicken rocks, so I'm still lost as to why she keeps following Sage around.  But she does. And it's precious to watch, so I hoping this friendship continues.

 Scarlet...or "Goo-gee" as Sage likes to refer to her is always fun to see. "Goo-gee" doesn't exactly like this name. She tells me to make Sage stop, but Sage just doesn't stop. So during our visit last week, I think "Goo-gee"came to terms with her new name and started to embrace it.

"Goo-gee" sometimes gives me a hard time. She feels comfortable with me and likes to rebel and not listen to what I have to say. I'm not good in situations like these. I'm seeing that I don't exactly know how to discipline, or know yet the way I want to approach moments like those.

I know they will occur with Sage because rebelling is only natural for these little ones as they discover more about the world and learn more about themselves. It's apart of growing up and consequently apart of this crazy ride called parenthood- a challenging part to the ride.

I hope I'm ready to handle it when the time comes.

Until then, I'm pressing forward.

My family is pressing forward.

on we go, on we go.

 xo.

Farewell Winter

I have to say it took a bit for my longing -for- spring- heart to get excited about the snow storm that hit  the east coast last week. The storm was suppose to be big. And as we were waiting and prepping for it, I realized how fitting it was for Mother Nature to send us out of the winter season with a beautiful, powdery snow fall.  Her powerful ways- even with how unpredictable they can be- reminded me to be mindful again of this particular season. It is about to end and I needed to take it in and appreciate it for all its qualities, even the harsher ones. These past weeks, I've been downplaying winter in my head too much. I've neglected to remember that it is a special time and it is beautiful and should be cherished and written about as so. So in realizing this, I managed to become blissfully happy about the snow that was approaching us.
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The snow came to our fields and mountains during the early morning hours- which definitely makes for an exciting wake up call. I was actually a bit taken back by the excitement that coursed through me when I first sat up in bed to take a peek out the window. "It came!"... "The snow came!",  I told my sleepy boyfriend who was snuggled in tight beside me.

 I know the finality to this news meant different things to the both of us. To me- it meant pancakes and bundling our baby up to show her the last traces of winter. And to Kyle- it meant managing all his farm duties in the snow.

Despite the harsh conditions--the chickens still needed to be fed. The new baby chicks still needed to be checked on and properly cared for---the greenhouse needed some work done on it---and the veggies needed water.  My farmer is special, I tell you. In fact, all men and women who choose to work outside during the cold of winter and the heat of summer are. This season has made me realize this.

Unfortunately, our winter wonderland didn't stay long. Temperatures here changed pretty quick and by late afternoon all the snow that came our way was melting away. It was as if Spring was emerging right then; like she won the war in the realm of nature. This was her time now. And she expressed this by slowly painting earthy colors over the land around us; completely erasing any signs of her seasons predecessor. Soon the grass was out again and mud puddles were appearing.

Sage ventured through the muddy spots without fear, not even needing my hand for help. She fell a few times and was able to get back up on her own. I really love this about her. My mama instincts, of course, are to help her right when her bum touches the ground, but I'm seeing the value in letting her figure things out on her own. 

She has been showing signs of independence lately by taking walks ahead of us- and also signs of assertiveness, which I'm particularly envious of because I wish I had more of this trait in my own personality. She will tell Simone to STAY! when we are outside, or sometimes she will even tell her to EAT! once her food hits the dog bowl.  

She is bold and ever changing like these seasons, and I absolutely love it.