Dirty Girl

I'm a dirty girl. That's right, you heard me say it (actually, see it typed but if you were here as I had my moment of revelation as to what to write about this morning, you would have heard it). I have a set of garden gloves that I've worn a few times but they just don't give me the freedom of feeling the dirt sift between my fingers as I work in the garden. I love the feel of the plants I put in the ground, the seeds I sprinkle in to germinate to feed us, and I even love to pull out the "pests" who take up the necessary room for my desire to create a sustainable living landscape.
My boys are both up this time this morning, cheering me on as I write this post. My preschooler loves to garden. He has his own raised bed box, and we planted seed tapes together earlier this season. Radishes, chives, beets, and spinach is coming in already. I know we planted one more set of tapes but it escapes me at this moment as to what they were. We also threw in some wildflower seeds to see what comes up. When the time is right, we'll put in a tomato plant for him to pick his own tomatoes, maybe a bean bush, and perhaps a cucumber vine and a couple of herbs. Its not a big box but if you follow your season, you can utilize it like you wouldn't believe. My youngest could care less so long as he's just there to watch the process, that's if he's not taking a power nap before his next round of unbridled energy.
This year, I'm putting in both flowers and edibles. Veggies, herbs, some dwarf fruit trees. Flowers that come back year after year, some that have to be replaced by the following year, and bushes & small trees to add character to the small piece of landscape we have in the midst of what's called "Urban Vermont." Personally, having grown up here in the state, this is more like the suburbs to anyone moving in, and having been other places in my life, this is more the 'burbs to even me. Before the purchase of the house, we did live in a more urban part of the area. It wasn't too bad but being a dirty girl, I love my country side better. Therefore, the 'burbs are a good second place for me to inhabit. I like it here.
So, to all the dirty girls out there, dig deep, sista. walk barefoot in your garden when you can. When you are digging in the dirt, breathe in that rich, earthy fragrance. Be a dirty girl, and be proud of being a dirty girl. I know I am.

"And on his left he held a basketfull
Of all sweet herbs that searching eye could cull:
Wild Thyme and valley-lilies whiter still
Than Leda's love, and cresses from the rill.
-John Keats

~Momma

Wingin' it on a Wednesday

I gotta tell ya, I'm lovin' this weather this week. Best week we've had in a very long, long time. Warmth from the sun, trees that have been budding are now starting to slowly unfold their leaves. Grasses green, flowers in bloom. Gardens in progress for produce growing for the summer months to come. Life is good.
Today is our creative day here at home. Candied mint leaves-yum....the directions call to make a simple syrup but I'm going to substitute with maple syrup-a Vermonter's touch. I found this project in a book I picked up for my preschooler. "Growing Up Green." This month, and on into June, we will be gardening and bringing sustainable living into action. What better way to learn at such an age the importance of living off of what you grow, making the most of what you need, and cutting back on what you don't really need. Plus, its good for the planet. Yeah, tree hugging hippy mom. That's me.
I look up at where our mail sits to remember I didn't organize this spot yesterday. Blame it on the laundry-omg, there was at least two weeks of it and took me a full 24 hr time frame to plow through. Glad that's done with. I could care if I ever look at another sock without its mate. That is, until the next day I have to load the washer....
So, here's to a wild Wednesday. My wild woman instincts are telling me to keep track of the mental list of things to do and make room for the flexibility of change. Don't be rigid with the day, as each moment that comes our way is to be savored, not picked apart to find out "what's wrong with it." Yes, some circumstances need closer examination but when you harbor on that for longer than necessary, you lose those priceless moments you'll never get back. Cheers!
~Momma

Tuesday with a Twist

Tuesday greets us with the same beauty of Monday, only difference is the day in the week. I'll take it. Today is my task oriented day, with a twist. And as a mom of two budding boys of endless energy, my days always have a twist-or two-in them. Wouldn't be a normal day if it didn't. Oh yeah, there's the dog, too. Thinks he's human sometimes....
After the waters have receded in our basement, the aftermath of cleanup detail comes to rear its ugly head. Mother's Day weekend I self-diagnosed, which was a surprise to me for what I was to discover. I'm still spinning in shock from my discovery, which is probably the reason why this new disease hasn't taken over completely. I've been hit with the organizing bug. Yeap, that's right. I'm on a mission to discover why I have all the "stuff" I possess. I don't plan on doing any psychoanalysis over it but hey, stranger things happen at times. What I can also tell you is that it isn't consuming my life just yet; I don't own a label maker.
Yesterday was filled with gardening, laughter, fun, and that last minute "OH MY GOD! I DIDN'T START LAUNDRY THIS MORNING!!" Ok, so I went a little overboard with gardening but it was time spent with my boys. We went for a walk, had lunch and naps. I spent time with Sid, our mini Schnauzer, while dead heading my Rhodies & trimming bushes. Yeah, I'm a garden junkie....I think I traded my shoe fetish of long ago before kids woman to now being concerned about the food supply and what I can do about it here at home. Urban farmer in the making...
Totes, office organizing accessories, markers, paper, page protectors and tape-I'm packing a type of heat that is overlooked until your "stuff" starts calling out to you. I am ready to face the wall of "stuff" today. I'm a yarn harlot, fabric floosey, book b*@%h, garden guru, and the list of acronyms could keep going if it wasn't for the fact my writing morning moment is almost up. Yeap, set aside time in the mornings to clear my head before jumping into my day. Perhaps, once my youngest decides to sleep all night and let me sleep, I can make the choice to rise earlier in the mornings, give myself time for and to myself before taking on the role of chef, maid, laundry slinger, coach, teacher, etc....you know, the stay-at-home mom role.

"Teach us to use wisely all the time we have." ~Psalm 90:12

~Momma

Thanks for the Mommeries

Monday morning greets us with sunshine and warmth. Finally. We're ahead of the game of water removal and cleanup in our basement; now its just a matter of time to get it to dry out so we can make the necessary steps to perhaps work with Mother Nature the next time she decides to drop a surprise on us. Its also the day after Mother's Day. And my mind is full.
I spoke with my mother a couple of times yesterday, which is good. Communication during the seven months my grandmother-my mom's mom-battled pancreatic cancer, we kept in touch through text messaging. The wave of the current times, right? Yes and no. Yes, more and more people are texting today to keep in touch but it does keep us from actual human contact. Call me old fashioned but I still like the face to face intimacy of a good yarn spinning, pardon the pun (I'm a bit of a yarn harlot, fabric floosey...a post for another time). Back to the focus of my content.
My grandmother's diagnosis came in September 2010. Or perhaps it was August; my memory is fuzzy at certain times of the day, which I believe most mothers can sympathize with this. We went to see her not long after the initial decree from the doctor. Tired, concerned for the future of her family and how things would become, she still carried a vibrance I hold in my heart to this day. After we came back home, I kept in touch with her by phone. Months passed, procedures done and treatments carried through, I received the word that Hospice was coming in to offer comfort care. Plans made, a month of preparing myself for what I would encounter when we went to visit again, we made the trip. Walking into the apartment my aunt had made for my grandparents to live in her home, I knew the woman sitting in the recliner to be my grandmother but in many ways, it was almost being introduced to someone new. During the visit, we talked (that conversation is sacred to me, therefore I will not devulge the details here) and I could see glimpses of her. It was hard to leave, and it was a hard three weeks before she passed away on Good Friday.
My mother and my aunt took care of her together in those last couple of weeks. My aunt had done so for the almost eight months that she lived in the new apartment with my grandfather. My thanks to all involved in her care as time came to a point of transition from this life. Yes, I have my moments when I cry, as I'm just as human as the next who mourns. Yet, I want to honor this same wisdom bearing matriarch by allowing myself those moments to grieve and then do as she would: find a way to carry on. The most important part of her battle for me (and we each have/had a lesson to learn with the situation) has been that family is family; you can pick and choose your friends but you can't do that with your family. Getting passed old hurts and any moments of dysfunction is important, because its about sticking together to help each other stand up.
So, for all who are moms, who know their friends to be moms, etc...we have a special purpose in this lifewalk. We nurture new life, we receive it into this world, we multi-task as we unconditionally love, we give all we have until it hurts, we empty ourselves to be able to fill up on the love we receive in return for all we do. Yes, being a mother can be a thankless job at times, or at least that's the way it feels. Yet, I wouldn't take a moment and change any of it for myself. So, to all the moms I know and even to those I have absolutely no clue of, thank you for being you. Thank you for giving.

~Momma

City Mouse, Country Mouse

The sun is shining brightly through our bay window this morning, and as soon as I write and breakfast is done, we are headed outside. Nothing more crazy than a mom and two little boys, who love the outdoors, cooped up in the house for days because of rain and no backporch to play on; today is my day to totally clean off the backporch here so that my boys can have a place to play when its raining. Gardening will appease us while the sun shines and I feel the butterflies of excitement flutter in the depths of my being as I type this post.
Each time I look at my belongings piled on the porch or have to take the garbage out to the garage and see the stock pile of possessions there, I wonder if I'm truly living up to my sustainable living title. I do purchase second hand or find free stuff when it comes to clothes (mostly my own), books, homeschool supplies & ideas, etc...and yes, I do purchase new. I can't say that I don't. Yet my concern is, with all the "things" waiting for me to clear them away, be it organizing and/or purging, why do I have all these "things?" Is it sustainable to have more than I know what to do with? Wouldn't it be easier to wittle down to essentials and take stock of what's truly important in life? Question, question, who's got the question?
Growing up, I didn't always have alot of "stuff." I didn't wear the latest fashions, the newest rage in toys, and didn't eat the most expensive meals on the market. I wore second hand clothes, usually from family. Toys were gifts, and meals consisted of what we could afford to feed ourselves with. I hated wearing someone else's cast offs, I felt the green monster of jealousy when it came to classmates who had the new toys from the stores, and couldn't stand those nights when we ate the same thing for a couple of days. As I reached adulthood, I formed the mindset that one day, I was going to have everything I didn't have growing up. I went for years, thinking that the more stuff you could possess, the happier you would be. Contrary to popular belief, the one who dies with all the toys doesn't win. I had an epiphany one day. When you wake up one day to a wall of boxes of stuff, piles of stuff, no room to function, no desire to leave the house to be a part of the world, you have become possessed. Possessed by your "stuff." And it takes an exorcist level of a purging to reclaim or come into the happiness of having practically nothing and living like you have plenty.
So, on this day, as I plan my gardens, pray for sunshine to stay around for days, envision my fenced in backyard so my kids & dog can have the freedom of the yard, hope my urban chickens will come by Fall, I realize that the "stuff" I possess is exactly that: STUFF. Stuff doesn't create happiness. Stuff will not be there when you need someone to talk to, stuff will not fill whatever void you may be experiencing. IT'S JUST STUFF.
~Momma

Wanted: Domestic Artist

Breakfast with my little one, as my preschooler takes his time to rise and shine. Ok, that gives me a few minutes. As I read my opening jingle, take in each "title" I hold as a domestic executive officer, I relax into what it means for me to consider myself an artist. I look out my kitchen windows that look onto our backporch, where oodles of boxes and piles of "stuff" wait for me to sort, sift, save, organize, and purge; my eyes fall upon the spot where my art supplies sit. Charcoal, pastels, paint, paper, canvas...to name a few things. Books about artists, applications, techniques, etc...truth be told, I've not done anything with any of these "things" since moving into our home. What will I do with these supplies? Will I keep them and perhaps weave them into my life? Or will I find a place for them to go? Question, question, who's got the question?
The artistic ventures I've been on in the last four years has been more focused on the comforts of home. A knitted rug, made from scraps of yarn from other projects, catches my eye as it lies in front of my kitchen sink. The curtains hanging on the windows in my kitchen, I made those, too. I turn around to look behind my favorite chair to see a knitting project waiting to be finished, a baby's hat just recently completed, my knitting bag made from an old pair of jeans waiting for me to fill it again. A bag with yarn skeins, buttons, and the pattern I need for the baby sweater and matching cap also calls out to me. A pile of gardening books, seedlings waiting for repotting to continue their growth....the aprons I've made that hang on the back of the bathroom door, waiting to be tied around my waist like armor for battle....
I've had charcoal under my nails, paint on my hands. These days, curing soap with its delicious scent waits to be used. Sweaters for the kids act like billboards wherever we go. I traded in my beret for an apron. Paint brushes for garden tools. Knitting needles I wield like short swords. In spite of the last week of rain and flood waters plaguing my basement, reflecting my title for today's writing is unwavered. I am a domestic artist.
~Momma

Business Momma

As I go through each of my "hats," I realize I'm one person with many pokers in the same fire. I believe most mothers know this, if not all of us. We multi-task on a minute to minute basis. There seems to be little time in the day to have a moment for myself but what I can and will say to all moms, "Please make at least five minutes of your day just for yourself." An angel of a nun once told me that in order to be of service to others, you must remember to take care of yourself. Its true. How can you run on empty if you don't first fill your tank?
My business hat hangs on its peg for the current time. I had aspirations to put it on in the days to come yet we've been detoured by a flooded basement with all the rain we received for the month of April. Vermont's wettest April on record. And it ended up flooding rivers and streams, which that water took a wild ride to Lake Champlain, resulting in record breaking flooding there. End result, lake side homes flooded-understatement when watching the local news-and those neighborhoods and towns spreading out from the lake have experienced ground water coming to roost in basements. Are we having fun yet? Everything we had in the basement in our home is in boxes, piled in the garage & on the back porch; I've been sorting through to organize once I've decided on the save/discard voting. Nothing of high level importance lost, save the notes from all my pre-college herbal classes. Hey, I saved the certificates-that's good.
By this time, you're wondering as my reader, "When is she getting back to the business end of things?" Well, I can give you this much at the moment. My beginnings were based on becoming a mother. With the arrival of my first child, I became attuned to what I wanted for him and wanted the best. Breastfeeding, cloth diapers, all natural body care products, safe toys & baby gear, etc...it was the body care products that stuck in my mind and propelled me into business. Where I can point you for direction for more details is to click on my link, The Vermont Gypsy Wagon, to discover more. Final note? With the arrival of my second child and a temporary hold on all ventures, I found time to think about what I wanted to do with my business. Did I want to pick up where I left off or was it time to let go? I didn't want to shut down, so I started thinking about what I could do with my creative venture. And it hit me. Maybe I needed to narrow my focus group. Perhaps I should pare down on products available. What made me get started, anyway? Full circle and I was looking at my initial brainstorming once again. It all started by becoming a mom, and venturing into the bigger arena of mother of more than one, I had my epiphany. I've been an expectant mom, experiencing the receiving of new life through my body into this world, discovery of the dependence of such a little person on me at all times, and acknowledging that feeling of wonder at being able to love someone so much that you'd do anything. Having done it a second time now, and discovering that I could still love and give equally to my first, I now know that I can make available some of those very desires other mothers have for their children. Rough drafting, prototyping and testing, stay tuned. Its a work in progress, and I intend to make good on my word to my children, other moms, and to myself.
~Momma