Property Porn....
 1. I'm having issues with my pics right now, but if I could get this first pic bigger, you would see the pink vertical line of a rainbow... this was by the way, just to the right of a lightening storm. A rainbow and a lightening storm... never in my life did I think I'd ever see those two things at once.

 2. This view is from the back lower side of the property, looking up to the house. The sun is extra orange and quite easy to look at due to a haze of 8 forest fires resulting from previous lightening storms the night before.

 3. This was taken minutes before the rainbow in picture #1. The sunset to the left, the rainbow to the right, and the lightening was behind the property.

 4. This pic seems like it's in a filter... but I swear it was one of those days where the light outside was a funky yellow. My camera was on 'Cloudy' setting and it gave the most accurate image showing the color of the atmosphere.

 5. This was our last Supermoon. The moon is rising right over the opening between our property and a neighboring field which is at least half marsh in the spring. The hawks just love to dive and swoop here.

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?

Wow... I knew it had been 'a while'... but I really didn't think it has been a year since I last posted. The quick excuse is that life got busy. I started writing a weekly article for another site and eventually that was the only writing I did. THEN in September our landlord offered to sell us her house.... a dilapidated depression era farm house - and five acres. The acreage sealed the deal of course. My husband and I both have full time jobs that keep us afloat... for the most part. Sometimes his contracting work is slim pickings and what he makes when it's good isn't usually enough to easily get by when it's not. So we found our selves working on the new property at the end of the day til sometimes 1am. And the repairs and improvements were all out of pocket above and beyond what we had to pay out for expenses normally anyways. It's been a crazy year.

Yes, we are still married... yes we have moved in... no the house is not done. It looks nice inside... except for the depression era kitchen with two cupboards and one counter that hasn't been touched, and the main bathroom which we have torn apart down to the lapboard with only a nice new toilet... but no shower and no sink or water otherwise...and various other corners and nooks that have been deemed not immediately important. We sanded the real wood floors and thought we had done good. But re-staining and sealing them was one of those bigger expenses that had to wait And wait. And wait. And we couldn't wait to move in any longer. So our floors are in limbo. I'm not even sure they were sanded enough. I still see shine. I don't think real wood sanded down is supposed to shine. Oh well! All the better since we are living on them now anyways. But someday we are going to have to move out- so we can do our floors.

And that's just the short version of the story about the inside. I haven't mentioned the 'Jacuzzi room ( closet ) that was never finished and had become an indoor jungle. That we just sealed off. There is now a wall where there was once a door to a Jacuzzi room. Now we just have to rip it off the corner of the house and re-side. Nor have I mentioned the dormer rooms upstairs that my daughter has closed off due to the hole in the floor where my husband borrowed the wood flooring to repair damage to the floor in the Man Cave. The hole in the kitchen ceiling where a stove chimney used to run? Well that was going to be a dumb waiter up to my daughters room. Someday. Maybe. Today, it's just a hole up to the attic.  The well...? I don't even want to think about it. It seems to work. For now. The property has visually had about as much improvement as the painted walls of the house interior. Trimming some trees and bushes makes such a difference. Now the pine tree limbs don't touch the ground and you can walk under them. It's amazing the difference.

I can't say removing a good number of rusted out classic cars and various farm implements from the black berries has really made much of a difference though... I mean- since you couldn't really see them anyways. We don't own a tractor. Well, that is unless you count the non- working one that was on the property. But have no fear, hubby says he can make it go. Until then though, we have a ridiculously generous neighbor who has offered his time and his fancy tractor to push back a few areas of berries. Three of the 5 acres are still covered in them, but we have a garden now thanks to him. Albeit - a late late started one. What can I say, no matter how rough the going gets, we are optimists!

However... there are a few things that really put a damper on those lofty spirits. Things like, no highspeed internet. And no cell service. Having to get a land line once again is like having to use a brick car phone. That's what you deal with when you live in the country, right? But I'm only a mile outside of town! Every now and then I find a signal. And then a breeze moves in and it's gone. Maybe a cloud goes by... maybe an airplane. Maybe a cow farts... I don't know and I can't explain it, but poof and it's gone. I am the queen of unfinished conversations, which I guess is better than being the queen of no reply.

It all brings home my own aversion to change. These things that are happening for us are so exciting. Our first home... our own land. Providing for ourselves from our own harvests. I'm going to have horses, chickens and goats, probably rabbits too. We have an orchard (and all the black berries we want). But... I don't know. And that's just it maybe... I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing! I'm the type who has to do it to learn it but I'm also the type who don't want to do it if she can't do it well. It's frustrating- all this new stuff. But it's the kind of frustration that you easily sweep under the rug along with never ending farm dirt. You just have to hope that everything else in your life remains a constant. You cling to and long for that confidence in stability. However, this is a big change. Some changes make your comfortable routine of a life suddenly busy and always rearranging and it's hard to hold up your end of that stability. It's what you need the most and it's the hardest to give at times and to grasp at others. Change isn't something that just happens in a moment and then moves on. Just when you think you are getting used to it, there are domino effect changes waiting in the wings. Sometimes I feel like I must be the strongest person in the world to not let it get to me. Sometimes I feel like the weakest person in the world because I can not stop the changes. And sometimes I feel like the loneliest person in the world because I can't imagine any one could understand all the ways in which things have had to change. Please understand, I do not want or mean to complain about this great blessing. But as always... I seek to be understood and I some how always had this weird notion that someone out there... just might.

Fatherless Fathers Day pt 2

Five years ago I wrote a post that touched a bit on my 'Daddy Issues'. How my read dad is not in any way a Dad. And how his momentary life choice to disown us five kids remains a sore spot with me no matter how cordial everyone pretends to be with him. Myself included.
Father's day for me is hard. You'd think I would only have the right to say that if I was a father who maybe lost their son. You might think once upon a time my real dad and I were close and then we had a falling out. No. No. And whatever else you might think. Probably also 'No'. I was never Daddy's little girl. In fact I was Daddy's little 'Oh I forgot how strong I am but I was never abusive' girl. I was Daddy's little idiot who couldn't talk or do anything right enough to please him. I was the girl that was supposed to be a boy because he already had a precious little girl the first time. I was the disappointment and I felt that from him at every interaction we had.
You would think, if he was this great person that I looked up to, then yeah... makes sense that I would be as deeply hurt by that as I am. But No. If I ever did I was too young to know any better but I can tell you it didn't last long. I was only around the age of 8 by the time he was no longer a part of my life.
Another part of that post 5 years ago was in regard to how I have a Step Dad and my feelings or indifference to him. And that is really the driving reason for writing this post today.
Five years ago I was in a different place with my affection or lack there of for my new Step Dad. I had said he was a great guy whom I appreciate very much... but there just wasn't a connection there. I'm not the type to be fake when it comes to my affection. I wouldn't say 'I love you' if I didn't mean it. So there were never Happy Father's Day cards full of mushy deep sentiments just because he married my Mom. And it will be a while til there are. But I feel the need to state that I do care for my Step Dad and that he means a lot to me. I'm a hard nut to crack when it comes to giving up my emotions and I say it like it is and can be very real and blunt. I was already an adult when he became my Step Dad so he's never 'fathered' me. Not in the disciplinary sense for sure. To me, that's always what I believed a father is. As well as a guide and compass and confidant. And I've just never needed that in my adulthood after having learned to  live with out it all my life. But I've come to learn that it's not about the title he holds or the job he performs. It's just about who he is, what's in his heart. And I have come to learn that it's all good. So I hope he can be patient. He has no kids of his own and I imagine it can be a difficult day for him as well and that the appreciation and affection of the five kids he's taken on as his own, even though a few of us were already adults when he came to the family, is something he would like to feel. I think he has it. I think he's earned it for sure! If for no other reason than for the fact that he has been there for more years than my real Dad ever made it with us. And perhaps more importantly, he WANTS to be there for us. And that goes a long way with me. Happy Father's Day 'Dad'.

Not so spring chickenish

I'm no spring chicken, nor am I afraid of or a stranger to hard work. And yet today my double shift has me feeling like I should retire before I'm asked to do that again! I am compelled to come here and publicly ponder... am I being a wimp? Is it just me and my not so spring chickenly ways?
In my defense, let me explain how my day(s) developed. You see, normally I work at 6am. Except for an occasional Thursday in which I work at midnight til 6am.  This was the case yesterday. So I try to get some kind of rest in the evening before I work for the night. But it's incredibly difficult to get any sleep during the day when the sun is shining and the birds are singing. I was able to get just short of 3 hours of sleep. This morning after work I went to bed at 7am. At 9: 30 I get woken up to a phone call from my boss. 'I hate to ask you but could you come in today at 1?" So I tried to get a bit more sleep and woke at 10:30. Once at work I ended up staying an extra 45 minutes. Both times I walked to work and walked home. On the way home I carried home a gallon of lemonade, a jar of mayo, 2 qts of cooking oil, a 6 pack of 16 oz bottles of soda and two bouquets of crazily dyed daisies. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew. ( on a hot day after a long day to boot) Yes, I do believe I'm whining. I'm just not ready to feel... not so spring chickenish.

I love The Rain

I sense a change in the light and feel the clouds close in tight.

I keep my head up and my eyes on the sky... a moment of calm evokes a heavy sigh.

A gentle mist floats across the field... flowers open up to say 'ahh': dryness healed.

I do not run for cover and I do not complain.

I love the rain.

The darkness that settles upon the sky is no concern of mine, it was already only grey and nothing much to be excited about anyway.

And now the strength of everything natural and true, is taking a test that's long over due.

Fragile lilies so dainty in their stance take a bit of a beating and regret their hasty choices perchance.

That place in the sun is the same as the one... that exposes every petal which tomorrow's storm will have undone.

My pace does not quicken and for me, never could be deemed too slow. Let the rain come down and the drops upon me flow.

Umbrella over head or better yet down at my side... no reason at all to run and hide.

With a little bit of shower I shall not melt nor freeze nor catch the death of me in it's innocent kill.

I love the rain, and I always will.

I know how to undress me and once again become warm and dry... I know how long to linger and when to tell the clouds goodbye.

I have plenty back up in my cold weather closet.

I love the rain so much I  sometimes wish I knew how to cause it.

But alas, all that I can do is soak it up whenever I can. Be present in it's beauty and admit I'm quite a fan.

I love the rain --- and I love it even more when you are in it there with me.  Because even through the falling rain it's your appreciative, protective, and ultimately, understanding gaze I see. 

With you I like to share the thrill of a cold wet chill. I love the rain and I love you. I know I always will
The only shelter I desire is your hand covering mine. Forever and for always will do just fine.

Tap- Tap. Is this thing working?

Dream a little dream.

Wanna have a fantastically action packed dream? Try watching the movie 'Law Abiding Citizen' immediately before bed and I'd be willing to bet you'll be tossing and turning, but not for lack of sleep. Although- there is a possibility though that you could be like me, and wake yourself up mid hurl.

I'm not normally an out of body type of dreamer. I can't control my dreams, and I'm almost never able to get back into a dream, despite all my efforts to do so, once I've been woken. Sometimes I do slowly come out of a dream and that allows me the cognitive awareness of reality vs. dream. It puts me right on the edge of coming out of a dream but still being in it and yet knowing that I am in fact dreaming.

For instance, once while inside of a dream I was accidentally given a note from my boyfriend that wasn meant for some other girl. In my dream, more urgent events prevented me from taking a moment to read what the note said. I had placed it on my dresser until I could be alone and really absorb what it said. But I started to come out of my dream before I got the chance to do that. Wanting so badly to see what he wrote to her, I desperately tried to go back to sleep. But I was too stuck in that half awake half asleep mode. So I still envisioned the note on the dresser, but yet knew if I got up to read it, I'd be awake and it would go away. It was crazy maddening.

*Side Note: I ACTUALLY DID mistakenly receive this kind of letter in the mail from my long distance boyfriend. I just couldn't tell you if I got the real letter first and then dreamed about it, or if it was some type of premonition if you will. Even though it's been almost 30 years, you would still think that it would have been such a huge correlating thing that I would remember the order of events. Which is why really, I feel kind of sure that the real letter came after. As though I forgot about the dream eventually and when it happened for real the dream was long forgotten. If the real letter came first, wouldn't I think I knew what the note said? Maybe? Maybe not. What I'd give to have it straight! And that's not the only premonition type dream that I had as a young teenager, so I have to admit it's certainly possible, right?

Anyhoo.

Last night's dream shared the same end of dream lucidity as that one. At the end of the dream, which was full of;  life threatening obstacles, trials,  physical challenges, mind puzzles, gadgets and conspiracy, I had finally succeeded and risen above, and made it home- albeit in barely alive condition. When I finally came to a family member and would be savior, I spit blood just like you see in the movies when people have been through hell and are bleeding internally. But it was a lot of blood. Actually more like spewed blood. Chunky blood. With small white clots of something. But not projectile... not like I was throwing up. Not yet.

It wasn't until my minds eye witnessed this scene pass before it and only after many moments of registering what it had just seen... it reacted the same way one would react if they seen this in real life before them. You might wanna hurl, right? Seems quite reasonable! And that is exactly what my minds reaction was.

What woke me up at 4 am this morning was not the exciting and altogether disgusting dream I'd just had. It was the lurch of my body, as I lay on my back sleeping, trying to heave a cookie toss. There was actually crap in my throat. And I lay there for a panicked 2 minutes holding as still as I could, saying to myself... 'omg, I won't be able to go into work today, oh no! Not if I'm sick. Not if I'm throwing up. If I don't move and don't throw up maybe I will get over it, I can make it pass.'

Tossing cookies all night is the ONLY thing ever in over 20 years that has kept me home from work. So, it's a big fear of mine. I'm a tough cookie, but the thought of spewing in front of coworkers and customers- or any public place, or in front of ANYONE for that matter will make me hide myself away JUST IN CASE if I think I might.

And there in my stillness, trying to be ever so calm, reality slowly came to me; that I had simply had a mental and physical reaction to a visual from my dream. I wasn't sick and I just needed to not lay so flat and maybe clear my throat.

It was all good. No bedside buckets necessary. Another day worked, another few dollars earned.