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A sabbatical, of sorts

music to read by :: Sabbatical (Michael Uzowuru)

I’ve been running into a lot of brick walls these days, when attempting the things I love. Interpreted literally, I am covered with bruises, constantly sporting a mild headache; figuratively,  I’m depressed, stressed, and again with the headache.

what sabbatical should look like

what sabbatical should look like

For the literal brick walls, I’ve started wearing my glasses more, but this makes me nuts as they are “reading” glasses and I find the more I wear them, the more I have to wear them. My eyes are becoming lazy in their old age. The figurative walls?  I’ve had to make some decisions regarding my time allotment, being realistic in what I can and cannot accomplish without underestimating my, well, ability to accomplish stuff. I am my own worst enemy after all.

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Being me.

music to read by :: Hickory (Iron and Wine)

Yeah. It’s been 9 months since I’ve posted here.

I mostly fell off the blog-wagon due to an overwhelming feeling of posting about someone who was trying to be someone worth posting about – and failing at it. I mean, if I wasn’t one of the cool homesteading kids who made my own soap while hand raising wild turkeys to guard my for-making-my-own-clothes-hemp patch, well then what exactly did I think I was doing here?

And I’ve been busy; working projects of varying importance to my life, potting, slowly taking back my health and changing the course of my life.

Now I’m ready to return. There will be some changes here – but not many; a change in categories, a slightly different focus, and an allowance to be me – to write about the mundane, silly things that go on in my day to day.

That will be the important change here. Allowing myself to be me.

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Never judge a racoon by its attempts to kill you in the night

music to read by :: Drunk (Ed Sheeran)

You’d think that everything about this photo is staged, and you’d be partly right. Except that the guys are real, the racoon is real, and we really were out out in the middle of nowhere. That guy in front? He’s not really drunk.

I can’t speak for the racoon.

The racoon. Or “Vito”, as we came to call him.

Vito came to us in the middle of the night, making his scary racoon noises and trying to claw his way through the roof of our flimsy in the middle of the woods cult horror film cabin. This was mostly three years of therapy forming for my friend who, earlier, had lost the toss for the top bunk. The bunk situated a foot from the roof. The bunk now firmly below where this wild maniacal racoon was trying to claw through. Screeching. Howling. Probably wielding an ax or some such thing.

The racoon finally gave up, or lost its knife or something, and moved on to the second cabin where he went to town on the door. We held a brief discussion as to whether or not to go to our friends’ aid, but decided our bunks were safer. Seriously. Never leave the bunk, or go out alone when being attacked by things in the woods. Basic safety, people.

I’m not sure how long the screaming went on for – I think I nodded off around dawn –  but when I rose for breakfast I found my camp mates hanging around drinking coffee and shooting the breeze with the cutest wee little racoon! Turned out our midnight killer was just a babe in the woods, had spent the remainder of the night sleeping at the foot of our camp mates bunk, and had no intention of leaving our company. And he was hungry.

So my husband dug deep, reached for his inner racoon and went frog hunting.

Vito hung with us the whole weekend. We made sure he was fed, but not with our food. We hunted (frogs) and gathered. When it came time to leave, we had many mixed feelings. Wolves were abundant in this area and it seemed he had no family and was still really quite young. We were also in deep woods. The kind you off-road to get to; where “cross the bridge” on the directions really meant, “balance your car tires on two the boards and attempt to drive without falling off”.

In the end we left, but two of our group returned the next day and found him hanging in the camp. The had brought a cat carrier, so gathered Vito up and brought him to town to the wildlife rescue centre , where he was fattened up and later released to the wild.

I just hope they took away his machete.

Oh yeah … support your local wildlife rescue centres. They do good work.

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Hello November, the month that follows September….

music to read by  :: November (Tom Waits)

…because if November followed, say, some made up month like – oh, I don’t know – October, it would mean that I accomplished nothing of import, that I slept and watched the rain, knitted while leaves fell, and generally sat around; that I missed some yoga, and painted nothing. No pots, no blood, no stuff at all.

So, November. As you blow your below zero temperatures across the 613 – and don’t think I didn’t notice that snow – let’s pretend we are tucked in, all nice a cosy, back in Jaipur, back in the Samode Palace having tea with the sun beating down on our heads.

Samode Palace

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Whoa! Where did October come from?!

music to read by :: October Song (Amy Winehouse)

my favourite slippers and dog

Oh, October. You snuck up on me like a thing that sneaks, and made me and my to-do list look like nothing but sitting around reading. But I still love you.

Yeah. October.

basket of homemade mis-matched guest slippers

The time of year I dig out the duvet, my slippers, the box of miss-matched guest slippers; enjoy a warm fire and tea; and still leave some windows open.

This year, it’s also the time time I look back at September and wonder just what the hell I accomplished.

I plan to blame it on the husband. Why? Because he went to Paris for two weeks and I didn’t. I think that’s good enough reason.

So.

September. Let’s say goodbye with a handshake and a wrap-up.

crappy pic of what is actually a lovely scarf

  • Yoga 2 times a week? Yep!
  • Knit two presents? Yep! A scarf for my sister and one for my mom – where I learned how to knit a fringe. Go me!
  • Knit a scarf for me? Nope. But I did make an awesome snake scarf for the kid.
  • Knit a pair of slippers for the basket? Well, one is a pair in my world so we’ll call this one a win.
  • Donate blood. Nope. And I have no good excuse …. Bad me.
  • Pottery? Did none. But did get a commission for something fun so I do have to get my ass in gear.
  • Food budget? Win! But the man was away for 2 weeks, so ….
  • Holes in bedroom. Uhm …. let’s move on.
  • The books on the living room floor are gone!

awesome snake scarf

  • Organize bookcase in bedroom? I’ve done two shelves.
  • Buy paint? Did I mention I didn’t fill the holes?

And now for October. And while I wish it could list reading, fires, tea, and watching the leaves change …. {{sigh}}

House and Home

  • put front and back gardens to bed
  • plant garlic
  • start the damn holes in bedroom
  • finish organizing bookcase in bedroom
  • paint some trip upstairs

Personal

  • yoga two times/week
  • knit one present, one pair slippers, and one scarf, plus a scarf for me
  • donate blood

Pottery

  • research and design commission. yay!

That’s it! That’s all! Plus, you know, all the other crap I have to do in a day.

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Apparently, she’ll grow up and walk alone

music to read by :: I’ll Walk Alone (Green Day)

wearing the fluevogs to school

This morning, the 9 year old announced she liked Nirvana, Green Day, the Smurfs, and my vintage Fluevog Angel Sole Derby boots. I think I might be in trouble.

Either that, or she’s awesome.

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How to move books in 10 easy steps

music to read by :: Book Song (Frente!)

Step 1 :: Take picture of mess to be moved. Documentation is important!

1year old mess of books to be moved

Step 2 :: Grab small pile of books and take upstairs

Step 3 :: Stop to knit, because hey! One small pile of books, gone! And that slipper’s not gonna knit itself!

Slipper, started!

Step 4 :: Sigh, grab another pile of books and move it upstairs.

Step 5 :: Decide you are now waaaaay too hungry (having skipped breakfast under the stress of moving these books) and enjoy a piece of toast and a tall cold mug of something.

mmmmmmtoast

Step 6 :: Move a couple more books upstairs, remembering to trip over the dog.

Step 7 :: Explain to the dog why you are going from floor to floor with books (while he follows) and not sitting on the couch with him.

poor, confused puppy

Step 8 :: Feel guilty, sit and knit with puppy

Step 9 :: Move remainder of books to now existing book pile in bedroom.

all done!

Step 10 :: Take finished photo and post-process in an artsy-fartsy way – and write blog post – as an excuse to ignore new pile of books in bedroom.