Slow living: Gardening

We've been deluged with 
rain this spring.  My front yard is a virtual swamp, and I'm about ready to go find a little flat-bottomed boat to get in and out of here.  The mud-boots I bought last year have been a Godsend.

I've started a little garden. Everything is in pots: some small, some larger and some that will be in grow-boxes made from storage tubs, with a special watering system.  (not an affiliate link: http://www.gardenanywherebox.com/) 

I'm absolutely delighted that the beans, peas and carrots I planted in two inches of soil have taken root and begun to sprout. I purchased larger tomatoes, squash and zucchini that will go in the grow boxes along with the seedlings.The rain barrel is finally set up, and the boxes are ready for soil and plants, as soon as my weather-related asthma lets met get busy.



 

The only things of my porch-garden that survived the winter were a pot of chrysanthemums (about to bloom!) and a thyme. So I replaced the herbs: basil, oregano, English Thyme, sage, lavender, flat-leaf parsley, dianthus (Odessa Pierrot), rosemary (not doing well) and some sedge that is drought tolerant.  I plan to put that in a border along the front of the house, along with some yarrow.


    


There is something deeply spiritual, calming, rejuvenating about digging in the dirt. Tending a garden takes us right out of the hectic man-made-time, and brings us back to Earth, back to the rhythm of Nature herself.
This is the basis of my simple and charmed life: getting out of the rat-race, and embracing a slower pace; breathing and taking as much time as is needed.

Spring forward

It's Spring here in North Texas. Volatile weather conditions are normal; thunderstorms,  warm fronts, cold fronts, tornadoes, and flash floods abound. But so does the simple beauty of wildflowers lining the roads, and trees in full bloom, exhaling a cloud of yellow pollen.

Mother Nature is busy now. Plants are growing,  blooming; birds are nesting,  hatching, singing, flying.

I have been busy,  too. Unfortunately I have allowed myself to be distracted by the needs of "the job", to the detriment of my creativity and spirituality. I'm staying longer hours at the job I'll be leaving in a few short months. But I've also been trying to make time to write, letting characters grow and allowing the story to wind vine-like, until it takes on a life of its own. And I'm working on other projects that I intend will bring in another revenue stream in the future.

Gypsy Reno is my ever-present editorial assistant.  She has a wonderful sense of story, and she's a grammar fiend!  She also reminds me to slow down and enjoy the process, whether it's writing,  editing, or simply sitting on the porch watching the storm come in.

I feel like I've gotten myself on the highway by accident,  and I'm caught in traffic and can't find my way home (to quote a favorite songwriter). I'm trying to remember to breathe and pay attention,  to move into the slow lane, and spot the exit ahead.  Soon I'll be able to focus on the things I love: reading,  writing,  sewing,  traveling.   And above all,  resting. 

I'm ready now to fully embrace my simple and charmed life.  It's about time.

Slow Living: Zen and the Art of Knitting

There is something deliberate about working with needles and yarn. It requires thought, focus.

I started with someone else casting on for me; just a few stitches, so I could re-learn what I had forgotten over the past way-too-many years. I fiddled with holding the yarn: too tightly, and I couldn't get the needle tip between the yarn and the other needle. Then too loosely, and the stitches bulged and sagged. The sides - at first so tidy, the stitches so tight! - became wider and wider as I added stitches to my row by (accidentally!) splitting the yarn.

I just kept knitting.


But I soon learned that my real issue was not getting used to holding the yarn.  It was getting used to holding the needles.  They didn't feel natural in my hands, like a crochet hook does. (Yarn in one hand, hook in the other & off you go!)

beginning

There is a rhythm to knitting, almost like breathing, and I was just huffing and puffing with that sharp pain in my side that says I've gone too far, too quickly....



And then... disaster.  The cat jumped in my lap, knocked the yarn to the floor, and my untidy mess of a beginning was undone.  Because it all slipped off the needle, and there I was, unable to save it.

And I just started laughing.

#justknit

I undid the sloppy beginnings, and looked up a *very slow* tutorial on casting on. (All Hail YouTube!)  I started over.

And this time, I remembered to breathe.  I let my hands relax, and my wrists, and my neck.  I didn't fret about how to hold the yarn correctly, or worry if I dropped a stitch.

I just kept knitting.
And when I sit down to watch something on TV, I pick up the project, and with no end goal in sight, I knit.  Perhaps only one row, perhaps ten.  It doesn't matter.  My racing thoughts slow down. My breath is easier, my hands relax.  This simple practice has become my meditation.


#justknit

Web of life

You might be thinking that this post would be about... esoteric philosophical thoughts....

Spiders.  It's about spiders.

They come up the drain - big ones like Wolf spiders & Orb spiders - and I find them in the bathtub.  Generally in the middle of the night, though why that is I'm not sure.  It's just a good thing that there is no one to hear me scream like a child Every. Single. Time.

*sigh*

Wouldn't you scream if you saw that in the middle of the night?  LOL

A dear friend of mine has reminded me that we draw things to us as our energies change.  So I'm assuming here that I now have Spider Energy, which is not a bad thing.

In the natural world, they perform a vital role in capturing flies, mosquitoes, bugs of all kinds; even small birds and mice.

And then there is the wonderful children's book Charlotte's Web, and its lessons of enduring friendship and loyalty.

In the Spirit World, in almost all cultures, spiders weave the web of life, over and over again.  According to Animal Speak by  Ted Andrews, in Native American lore, Grandmother Spider kept and taught the mysteries of the past and how they were affecting the future.  She reminds us to awaken our own sensibilities to be more creative in life, and teaches us to maintain balance between the past and future, physical and spiritual, male and female.  She teaches us that everything we do now is weaving what you will encounter int he future.

And here I am, embracing the simple and charmed gifts of Mother Nature: expanding my creativity, staying grounded in the now, and letting go of the fear and anxiety of the future. 

In Remembrance

Such a difficult day - and I had just completed a beautifully written (if I do say so myself) post.... and hit the wrong button & lost it.  This is what I get for thinking the computer was auto-saving.   *sigh*  I will try to recreate it, but I am certain that it will not be the same.

Just as none of us will ever be the same. 

Our world was forever impacted on that day, in ways none of us could have foretold.  There were economic, political and military impacts.... but most of all, emotional ones.

We will all forever remember what we were doing when we heard the awful news of the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and Flight 93.

I was driving to my office at DFW Airport. By the time I arrived, it was eerily silent: all flights had been grounded. We waited for news of our coworkers, weeping as we heard the updates.  For days, months, we hung onto every news update, every account for some bit of information that we didn't have before. We brutalized ourselves by watching the films over and over again, picking the scabs off the wounds to make them bleed again.

Four years later, a more personal tragedy doubled the impact of this date for me. On Saturday, September 10, my husband died from a massive heart attack. He had lived with congenital heart problems and mental illness for a long time, but this time, what appeared to be a panic attack proved instead to be fatal.

On Sunday - Patriots Day - I went out to meet his children, to make final arrangements for him. The flags were at half-mast. The faces of strangers were solemn. The world was heartbroken and angry.

And it all merged.


Those flags, that solemn music, that anger, was for him. 

My heart broke and I cried for him, for my family, for my country, and all those who died that day, and all those who survived.

I blamed myself for his death. I should have been paying closer attention, I told myself. I should have done something, anything to save him. But that was not my purpose. 


My purpose was to love him, fiercely and fearlessly.

I believe that is the highest purpose for all of us: to love fearlessly. In the face of fear, anger, heartbreak; to be brave and to love.

And in the face of this ongoing war-with-no-end, I offer you some images of beauty, and peace.


 


 

Obsessing the SUN

Today's post is not so much about literary things, or creativity, or much of anything except my latest obsession: taking pictures of the sun. That blazing orb seems to be changing shape, emitting more energy, on different levels.  And in photos, you can sometimes catch the fluctuations.

Here are a few photos taken the weekend of July 28.  It was stinking hot - miserably so. But I felt all day that I was being watched - no, guarded. Look in the photos and you'll see some orbs and light flares, and then, where least expected, a small, light blue dot. I'm one who believes wholeheartedly in angels, guardians and Spirit. I follow the seasons, and the shifting patterns of the heavens (even if I don't know the names of all the stars).  I absolutely believe that those orbs and that blue dot are evidence of angels and guardians.


This one is from Sunday evening, Aug 5, about 7pm local time.  Note the orange halo, the orbs and again, that blue dot (never in the same place twice - I checked & cleaned all lenses to be sure it was not a dust mote).  

I feel comforted by those orbs and blue dots (guardians).  Sheltered.  If a Spirit/Angel is here to guard me - guide me - then I/we must be here for a reason, a purpose. Okay, not everyone gets to be the leader of the free world, or Einstein, or Maya Angelou. But that does not make me/us less important. 

My purpose here is much simpler: to learn to love fearlessly.  To know that the Divine Universe will provide for all my needs and desires in great abundance. To know that I am special, even when I feel I am not. To learn to let go of petty grievances, hate, bitterness, fear.  

What if - instead of being afraid, and angry, and hateful - we looked up and saw halos on the sun and moon, the stars above us and orbs and guardians with us. 

What if we looked up and gave ourselves to the Divine Universe, and knew in our hearts that this life, on this planet, was not our first, nor would it be our last.
 

Here are a couple more shots, taken about midday today.  A lovely light flare on the one taken from under the eave of the porch, and the blazing sun back-lighting a cloud.  

I am proud to be part of this time and place. I am proud to be witness to this power and beauty, and to embrace my simple and charmed life.

A simple and charmed life

Welcome to my simple and charmed life, a blog where I share my crazy adventures of life in the country, and my attempt at a creative life, away from Corporate America.

I grew up in the country, and left at the first opportunity. Now I've come full circle to the country, to escape the madness of city life and embrace the solitude, calm, and spirituality in nature.

My mother and her mother (and a long line before them) were seamstresses, and I do not remember a time without a stash of fabrics somewhere in the house. The stacks of cloth were carefully folded, colors and patterns running together in a visual smorgasbord. I love the feel of cloth in my hands, its weight and texture, the weave and even the smell of the dyes. I see things in a bolt of cloth: a special dress, a suit for work, curtains or pillows, table linens or baby clothes.  Or perhaps a scrap of cloth, brightly colored, that becomes a comforting doll, a Charmer, that helps someone calm fidgeting fingers and anxious nerves.

I'm all about simplicity with charm, sustainability and re-purposing what you have to create what you need (or want).  Reducing my footprint. Recycling everything.

You'll hear more about all of this in the days to come.  You might even hear about my antics with the critters that live under the house - the skunks that come and go, Clyde the rat-snake, Hippity & Hoppity (bunnies), Doodlebug and Baby Donkey (you guessed it), and the wonderful and spectacular Gypsy Reno, who keeps me company, and offers the best desktop support.  

  Goodnight for now.  Let's meet here about once or twice a week, okay?  See you then.