A Night of Magic

December is a month of magic.....it doesn't matter if you believe in the miracle of a Virgin Birth or a fat man who travels around the world in one evening, or another miracle of oil and 8 days....there's no denying the absolute magic and beauty of this time of year.  It's the month of quieting down....of waiting and listening.  On the solstice the magic is palpable....the sky is silent, the animals are quiet and rest their bodies....everything slows down....the trees, the grass, the animals....it's a dark time in which families snuggle together on the couch.....people knit, or crochet, or felt.....they tend to bake more and meals even seem to have more magic.  It's the time of candle light and sparkle....a time of anticipation.

For me December has always meant the magic of simplicity....whether it's a long eared donkey named Nesotr, or the Little Drummer Boy....the Island of Misfit Toys or an angel without any wings who helps a man find hope for me it brings out my love of the underdog.....my love of things that shouldn't work....but they do.

December is a time where grown women play with dolls and share them with friends....it's the time when we remember the good times growing up....Red Rider BB guns.....trips to see Santa or speeding home on Christmas Eve because your dad sees Rudolph flying through the air.

I love this time of year......I love that I have a partner who embraces the beauty of this time of year.....I wait with eager anticipation to hear Santa drive through my town the weekend before Christmas.....I love that my little dog loves to open presents....I'm thankful that I have friends who help me find the beauty too.

So, on Christmas Night as I sit surrounded by gifts that were all sold or made by people we knew....or ordered by artisans through Etsy watching "It's a Wonderful Life" I wish you the merriest of seasons and hope for you that the best is yet to come.

Sunset Dog

He sits on the back porch, warming his tired bones
His hair matches the color of the leaves that are changing on the maple in the front yard.
He's slowing down.....ever so slightly....this ginger dog of mine.
But this afternoon, that isn't on his mind....he's just sitting on the back porch as the sun sets, his head drooping, his eyes closing in a nap.

I wonder if, when he dreams, if he dreams of the days when he could play without tiring.....does he dream of the days when it was just the two of us....no Corky, no goats, no angry cat.

And so, my friend, this boy who's been by my side for 12 years is turning gray.....his eyes are a little milky, but they sparkle if there's the promise of a ball....or a frisbee....or bubbles.....he limps if he's played too much frisbee....or when it's cold....but he runs through the woods like a wild dog.

I'm so thankful for my sweet Charley....this boy whose been by my side since I was 32....we've seen a lot together.....but he always has a smile for me.....and I am blessed that he chose me all those years ago.

Apple Picking Time

I've always loved this time of year....the beginning of school with new clothes and school supplies...the cooling nights....my birthday right around the corner.

What I remember about this time of year is the house we moved to when I was 14....it was a log house....not a super fancy "Sunset" house...but a simple log house with gables and a door that the man who built the house made the hinges and latch for....it was a warm cozy house that really shone in the fall....I think Thanksgiving was that houses' favorite holiday....it was born for that day.

The other thing this house had was a small orchard slope with about 8 apple trees....and what I remember is my mom picking those apples....and there always being apples for pie, apple sauce....tons of apple sauce....I don't think we ever bought it.....apple butter, apple muffins, apple anything....I even remember when I got my first apartment my mom brought apples to my roommate and I....so I made apple muffins and pie.

A few years ago, my parents sold the log house...my mom gave me her Hot Water Canner and a Ball Canning Book, and that got me canning, I made jams and jellies, but never apple butter or apple sauce because why would I buy apples for that?   I remember shopping for "baking apples" for the first time in my memory....it was so strange, why on earth would you BUY apples for a pie?  What a waste....

Fast forward a few years to our little house on the hill....we have our own orchard filled will all sorts of apple varieties....and yesterday, while I was picking my apples to make some jellies, I thought of this time of year in the Log House, and I felt close to my mom and that time....I think that was the happiest my family ever was....that may just be the nostalgia....but I remember loving coming home after school , my dog,  Sundance meeting me at the bus stop and walking up the dirt road knowing that there would be something that was appley and baked because my mom had picked some apples that morning.  I remembered how it felt when she brought apple sauce to me when I was in College.....how the taste of cinnamon and nutmeg made me think of her kitchen and the smell of the lindseed oil my dad put on the logs....I think as a preservative.

So today I am thankful for the fact that the more things change, the more they stay the same....I'm thankful that I am now the apple lady with baskets full of apples, which we will make pies and jellies and cider with....I'm thankful for my mom who made this time of year special for us, just by picking apples....and for the fact that I DON'T have to buy apples for pies this year either.

A New Path

This story really starts about a year ago, when our sweet Layla had to leave us.  At the time I was working as a Program Supervisor at a Childcare Center that offered care for homeless and transitional families....I liked the job, I love feeling like I'm making a difference, the problem was that the job was in Everett, and to get there I took "3 buses and a boat" to get there, which when you combine that with trying to run a "farm" and the stress of what that kind of job brings, I quickly began to realize I couldn't do both....and then when Layla got sick, and then when we had to let her go, and I was at work trying to run things and stay professional as our darling mamma was struggling, I lost it.  I had parked my car on "the other side" and walked over, so I could get home faster....and so after our vet came and did what he needed to do, I was left with the dilemma that my car would be towed because I parked in a spot where they tow you, and so of course I missed the boat and a bawled....I blamed Gordon for "making" me stay at a job where I was miserable.....and he was left, holding the bag...feeling like the "bad guy", when he was anything but....but he said that I needed to get a job on this side, on the Island where I could be closer to our "family" and I could better try to balance the farm and a job..h

And so I took a job in Coupeville.....a job that I despised.....but it was full time....and then I got a job offer with less hours, but it was in Langley and a place I loved....and so we decided that we could live frugally and I could work closer to home, less hours....the problem there was that I was sick a lot....which is easy when your classroom is in a basement and your have a freaky immune system anyway and you sometimes taste the coughs of kids who sit in your lap.  But I loved it.....but it didn't challenge me, and so I began to work harder on my dream of making botanical jellies....and then I got laid off from that job....and we were in crisis mode again....but it turned out that on unemployment I was taking home more than I was making at the other job because of my Program Supervisor Job....and so I pursued the "Jelly Dream" and grew some flowers and veggies for Gordon.

This Summer was an amazing Summer of exploration and discovering my passions.....I started spinning, I learned that there were more hoops to jump through than I first imagined for the jellies....but I worked on those....I wrote an article that got published.....I even ran a food cart for a day.....and then....and then.....the Youth Group at our church were taking a Missions Trip to Mt. Vernon to a Day Camp for Migrant Children.....and I decided to come with them....and as I planned and got ready the "helper" in me began to wake up again....and one thing I learned was that I am so incredibly blessed to be able to pursue so many passions....and to embrace the Maker within me, that I really need to give back, I need to find a job where I am helping....I can't continue to take, and so, although my dreams of making jellies and spinning aren't going anywhere, I also know that I need to be where I am "part of the solution"

And so, I have been given the opportunity to work as a Victim's Advocate at Citizens Against Domestic Violence and Abuse........CADA......and I am excited.....I have learned to find my passion....and I have....and through that I have blossomed and grown.....and I believe whole heartedly that I am on the Path I should be....and in the meantime I can still run our "farm" and be with my girls as they have their babies....that path hasn't changed, I just know in my heart that I have been blessed with all of those things and  husband who stands beside me throughout it all....I know I am happiest when I am making a difference....and so on this new path I thank God for all He's done for me....and the community that surrounds me....and I take another leap.....trying something I've never done before, but that I believe I can be good at.

A Beautiful Week

The youth at our church were taking  mini Missions Trip to Mt. Vernon to a work at a Day Camp for migrant children....this is a population that I have worked with in the past and who are in my heart.  So I asked the Director of Christian Formation at our church, who is also quickly becoming a very good friend if I could join them.....and so....last Sunday, the leader, one other adult and 6 teens all got into three cars and drove to Mt. Vernon.....not quite knowing what to expect.

And so the 8 of us....sometimes 9 all slept in the back of the sanctuary on the floor....we woke up early and worked in the kitchen, or classrooms, or just plugging ourselves in to jobs that needed to be done.  On Thursday we got up at 4:30 and went to work in the fields and that day did not end until 7:30 that night, myself, I was so tired that I was crying inside of my eyes....but these girls....these girls who were raised to care for other people....who all have beautiful hearts....did it....they said they were tired, but they kept on working....I have never been so proud of people, so impressed....anytime I saw them they were working or helping.....I have had conversations with people about how this generation seems to have such a sense of entitlement....they think they deserve what they have.....they don't imagine they have to work.....they don't think of other people's needs before their own.....I can't imagine being 14 and working as hard as these girls did....with smiles....sometimes exhausted smiles....but smiles.

And the kids we worked with....and the staff at the school.....I felt God's presence there......in the songs the kids sang.....their smiles...the Pastor's words.....God was there.

And so...in talking with the kids....in meeting their parents...in hearing their stories....in working in someone else's fields I learned....again....how blessed I am....to live in my little house with just my husband and our dogs....to care for just my goats.....to clean just my house.....to have the freedom to choose this life....and as I drove home and kissed my creatures.......I looked at the flowers I planted.....the "crops" I grew....my weeds and ate my very own tomato.....I thanked God....not only for what I have.....but for the girls I worked with who renewed my faith in the next generation.....for being an Episcopalian....and for the community I am part of....both on the Island....and now in the Skagit Valley.
Here's a video

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVXZQzt7vM80

Becoming an Episcopalian

I grew up....well from the time I was 10 in a church.....as a teen I was very involved with my youth group and my church....I really loved the church life.

In my 20's, I became disillusioned with the Church....I didn't like some of the things I saw....the way people were treated....and so I kind of fell away from organized religion....I didn't turn my back on God....but I found Him in other ways....through being with my creatures, in nature, in the beauty around me....and I was content.

About 4 years ago I reconnected with an old friend from my church days....he had the same view on religion I did....and well he had a crush on me "back in the day"....and we dated and got married, and even in our wedding I worked very hard to make it a "secular event"....I worked very hard to keep "God" out of our wedding....I used words like "the Universe" in our vows....but Gordon's dad is a Preacher, and so there was a little bit of Jesus in our day.

And we were content with our lack of religion in our lives...but we were happy.

A little over a year ago, we began the conversation that maybe we wanted to try church again....we wound up going to an Episcopal Church a little bit away from our house.  We fell in love with the people, and I began....slowly....to invite God back into my life.  But we spent the year getting used to our church....and we really didn't make any hard commitment to the church.

Well....the Bishop comes every three years to Confirm or Baptize, as a result, there have been classes offered about Episcopal Church Basics, offered by a retired Priest, who is also a friend of ours.  And so we decided to take the classes, to learn more about our church, and why they believe what they believe....and I've loved it....I've enjoyed learning more and more about this church which is so steeped in tradition.

But as I've sat there....taking notes....reading the "Book of Common Prayer", I've begun to really think about making this commitment to this church....and the idea that Gordon and I are inviting Jesus back into our lives.  I find myself getting nervous.....not so much about the church itself....but about making God part of my life....about being part of a church again.....and how familiar that feels to me.  I'm not having second thoughts.....I'm excited....but the thing that was in my heart as a teen is waking up....maybe I'm afraid of being hurt again....the way I imagine the church did before.

But I know the Holy Spirit is there....and there in a way that is very comfortable for me....it's a quiet gently wisdom that I have in my heart.....I love the feeling I have in the church.....I love the accountability that the church offers.....I appreciate the way that the congregation has welcomed us as we are....they say, "Wherever you are in your journey....you are welcome."....or something along those lines....and we feel that....and we love it.

And so this Sunday, Gordon and I will be received into the Episcopal Church.....we will become Episcopalians.....we will be "church people" again....this is both scary and exciting....we are certainly being received with open arms.....and for that I am very excited.

Under the Maple

I can remember the Summers when I was in High School....it was before I was driving....we lived way out in the middle of nowhere and so I was left to entertain myself when I wasn't "going to town" to be with my friends.  I was a romantic girl with way too much time on my hands and a Library Card.

And so, I remember spending the hot days going to the river with my mom and sister....but what I remember was reading.

I would go out to the pasture....or the woods....or under an ancient pear tree and I would read.  I read books by Grace Livingston Hill that were written between the 20's to the 50's....I read L.M Montgomery.....Poems by Emily Dickinson....Henry David Thoreu....anyone that wasn't modern.  I remember sitting with my dog, Sundance and thinking this was the way to live your life.  (This was when the Monkees weren't on.)  I remember reading so much, it would be jarring to sit down with my family and face the real world.  I would forget what was real and what was fantasy.

As I got older, and got a car, my life got busier, and I wanted to live in the city....I wanted a different life than being so far away from the country....I wanted to live close to the store.  To be able to walk to the store if I wanted.

And so.....I lived in the city....I didn't love it.....and so as I got older I moved further and further from the city....and finally to an Island.

Well.....for the Summer I've been trying to make jellies....I've been spending my time the goats, and the dogs and I've been "making".  The other day I got a good book, and decided to go sit under our maple and to read.....and it was an amazing experience.....and as I lay on my back, looking up through the leaves to the sky I said a prayer of Thanksgiving for the opportunity to sit under a tree and read a book with my Charley, Corky and Nigel surrounding me....and I thought of the young me doing the same and how I wish I could go back and tell her how it was all going to end up....and that the city wasn't the thing she was born for.