four years

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You do something to me

Something that simply mystifies me

Tell me, why should it be

You have the power to hypnotize me

Let me live ‘neath your spell

You do that voodoo that you do so well

~bing crosby, singing my nana and poppy’s song, you do something to me

i researched some family songs for my brother’s wedding present, and the one that my nana and poppy loved, supplied by my mom, felt like one i could easily adopt for our anniversary mix cd this year. whether he is hauling in our christmas tree, letting the cat nest on top of the newspaper he was trying to read, or showing quinn how to do a proper push-up on the living room floor, there is some magic that happens to me that stops me in the middle of whatever task i was trying to accomplish.

and those are just the everyday things. then there are the moments, like when he gets up on stage and dances to come and get your love  in taming of the shrew that make me downright giddy. (track one on this year’s cd, of course.)

our interdependence has become a comfortable, well-worn pair of jeans of a routine, and it is anything but stagnant. we find ourselves fine-tuning the division of labor even still, like just yesterday when i discovered i don’t mind changing the vacuum cleaner bag, as long as he still handles everything else in the vacuuming department. i have gotten better at interpreting the grunts that are issued when i ask for the occasional child care favor as “yes of course i’ll hang out with quinn for you, love” and thank my lucky stars once again for the positive examples in my son’s life of a hard-working man and a loving, respectful relationship.

i wouldn’t say that this one has been an easy year, though the marathon of life’s little hiccups in our year one will always give any year a run for its money. it was already looking like coyote had some things in store for us early on in the year, and i am proud to say my prediction that we would be “definitely outlasting bad weather, and looking ahead to contented long days and abundant journeys ahead,” has proven itself to be accurate. as challenging as this year may have been, the overwhelming sense i feel is one of contentedness and abundance.

we have also, as predicted, kept our sense of humor, as coyote teaches, and we seem to always find a way to laugh at the situation, even when it is hard, like missing our pancakes, coming to difficult decisions about buying a house, or crossing our fingers about me finding a job. sharing one small driveway, we park and re-park each other’s vehicles on a regular basis, and while he can get our bumpers to nearly kiss, my truck backing skills usually involve a 10 foot gap, which is what happens when i back up until i am absolutely certain that i am going to hit something. the next morning when i walk him out to his truck for work, he thanks me for parking him part way to work, saving him part of his drive.

i’m gonna stay by you

you’re gonna stay by me

we ain’t gonna need to spell out

no D-I-V-O-R-C-E

we ain’t like tammy and george

we don’t sing them tunes

you and me we’re gonna be more like

johnny and june

~truckstop honeymoon

a lot of the songs on this year’s cd talk about dancing, mostly thanks to the come and get your love pandora station i listen to while i pipette dna. dancing isn’t something we regularly do, other than our once a year date at oregon country fair. (there’s a rising appalachia song on the cd, which is one we did actually dance to while dragonflies buzzed around our heads this summer). but i think of dancing more figuratively with us, the dance that ani difranco refers to (from way back a few cds ago now) “there is nothing like dancing our dance of give and take – one step forward, one step sideways, the helpless feeling when the earth shakes.” our daily dance: my cell phone alarm goes off, his clock radio clicks on some pink floyd or led zeppelin song, bart starts circumnavigating our bodies and homing in for a good petting session, rolling out of bed, him heading to shower, me heading to the kitchen to stir honey into his coffee and whip up a batch of biscuits and gravy, blowing him a kiss as he drives off to work, the healing power of that coming home hug, the kitties once again circling like rings around the planets of our ankles, then taking up posts as gargoyles to oversee our activities until we finally sit down and make laps for them to sit on, snuggling into bed, me shivering, him throwing off all covers but the sheet, laughing once again about our incompatible heat settings, the laughter warming me up to a survivable temperature, and re-setting my internal accumulated day’s worth of angst back to zero and we drift off to sleep again.

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gargoyles

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laps

Ah, home, let me go home
Home is wherever I’m with you
Ah, home, let me go home
Home is wherever I’m with you

~edward sharpe and the magnetic zeroes

we didn’t know where we would end up when this year started, but we knew we would be here together. and wherever that is, that’s where i call home.

~dwell~ interdependence

oh life, what a funny dance. you may have noticed a certain lack of ~dwell~ posts, the ones i did post having been dedicated to the idea of dwelling in the intention of researching (and ending up on) a live aboard boat. i did a fair amount of leg work researching the idea, including consulting the seasoned liveaboard mama cindy at zach aboard, checking listings, researching docking expenses, walking said docks looking for our new home. on the homefront, i commenced an organization/cleaning/downsizing effort that has had delightful results, including that we like our living space more and more, the deeper i delve in this endeavor. the whole exercise has ultimately helped me shape the ideas of what i do (and don’t) want in a living space.

it turns out, a boat isn’t going to work so well for us at this point in our lives. i’m not only ok with that, i’m thrilled at all the extra “work” i’ve gotten done as a result of dwelling in that space of really overturning each stone of that idea~inspiration~thing as it emerged.

i’ve mentioned during the course of the dwell series, that i have my longer term sights set on permaculture. the whole package, not just the kickin’ gardening. the closing of so many leaky cycles, which goes so much deeper than just growing food. the more i get to know myself, the less i can abide waste and chronic excess, and while i’ve been pretty true to those beliefs (and truer all the time) i know that i am not going to rest until i am fully immersed in a life where there are no more blatant geysers of waste pouring forth simply due to the fact of my mere existence. this isn’t everyone’s calling, i want to be clear here. it’s something that is true for me though, and the voice telling me so gets louder all the time.

as for dwelling in those intentions (the permaculture ones), i surprised myself a little and reached out to get to know a woman who said the p word at a local foods meeting quinn and i recently attended. actually i emailed her out of the blue, after said meeting, because she mentioned that she has a weekly open-food-forest-demo site at her property. the best part is that she warmly welcomed quinn, assuring me in her response to my email that her gardening adventures have always included children. i just get the sense that this woman has so much goodness that i can’t help but want to be around her, and she seems very motivated to share her knowledge freely. we showed up yesterday in a rain/wind storm to her house, and immediately got down to work digging potatoes from what looked to be a small, unassuming mound of weeds from last season that some wild strawberry plants were enjoying growing on. 50 potatoes later, i was sold- new method of growing potatoes- check!

there was so much more… quinn’s “best part” (a game we often play as we talk over how our day went) was “drinking water! and playing on the big blue ball!” because after we washed potatoes in rainwater collected by her wheelbarrow, toured the backyard compost scene (trench composting… again, i’m sold. no plastic!) and planted some new onion starts in one of the raised beds, she welcomed us into her beautiful home to show us exactly how to prepare some of our potatoes (which she generously gave us to bring home, along with a few “extra” onion starts that somehow i suspect she could have found room for…) one thing led to another, she offered quinn water to drink, and soon she and quinn were discussing center of gravity as he attempted balancing on her yoga ball. (he kept saying “it’s inside the ball! my center of  gravity is inside the ball!”)

and can i just rave about soil for a moment? the bed we planted the onions in was a bed she started right on top of the grass turf that was there, in place, when she moved in (not that long ago). and it was drop dead gorgeous soil. absolutely teeming with worms, and you could literally sink your arm down into it without need for a tool. it was just. so. fertile-fluffy-nice-even-in-a-rainstorm. sheet mulching, baby. i tucked away a few tips for getting started and again, i’m sold.

but back on the reaching out to new people thing- i am keenly feeling my singleness these days, and my vulnerability. downsizing our belongings and reorganizing our household has had me contemplating my driving forces. why is it that i am suddenly really interested in living without furniture? i know that a portion of that drive is a desire to be completely self sufficient. while self sufficiency is a worthy goal from many angles, that is perhaps not the ideal angle… it’s okay to ask a friend to lift the other end of your futon when you need to move it. or so i am trying to convince myself… i haven’t had a backyard furniture bonfire. yet….

so, interdependence. i am trying to find the balance between complete and total i-am-an-island independence, and codependence (tried that out for a while and it’s really not for me!) and slowly, slowly, slowly realizing that there is a healthy middle ground. i’m still looking for it, but hey, at least i’m paying attention to that intention. dwelling in it, shall we say?

our host yesterday noted that part of the permaculture dance involves rethinking the concepts of boundaries and fencelines. she told me how she has had to navigate a tricky relationship with a neighbor whose dryer exhaust was killing her blueberry bushes. i believe she used the lovely wording “cultivating relationships.” let’s just say that it was a bit more than a composting and gardening lesson…