Live Free

Everyday Magic

"We need beauty to touch us as deeply as we need love. Beauty is not a luxury, an accidental experience that we happen to have if we are lucky. Beauty dwells at the heart of life."  John O'Donahue

Every day feels magical here. Yesterday, we woke  after a long day and night of hardy, steady rain, to sunshine and absolutely brilliant colors in the forest. The air was crisp and hovering right around freezing.  Giddy about it all, the colors, the cool temperatures, we bundled up and headed up the ridge behind our house and into the forest.  Today was the first day we hiked to the tippy top. It's quite steep and crawling is pretty much what I had to do in some places.  Once on the ridge, there is a wide trail that winds through woods and meadows.  At one point I turned around gasped and giggled out loud. What I saw was a clear view of those magnificent mountains facing my back. Watching over me, in a way.  Of course, the photo (#6) does little justice to capture my view because in real life those mountains are endless.  

How did we get HERE? What did we do to deserve this? WHO gets to do life here?  I very often doubted that it would be us.  Even though Thoreau's quote, "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you imagined," stayed ever present to my eyes via a cheapo refrigerator magnet for the past 15 years, many days went by where Byron and I both resigned that we didn't have what it took to live out the dreams.  After all, there was always the idea that we had too much of this, noot enough of that.  What if this? What about that? You know those thoughts and questions, right?  I'm so glad that more often than not, we didn't let the doubt talk us out of believing in our dreams. 

Amongst ancient mountains that roll on and on for as far as the eye can see, sparkling rivers, and forest thick with diversity. I am grateful for every moment of it.  As the world appears to crumble upon unrest on so many levels, to have this opportunity to see a bit of it unspoiled feels like the greatest gift of hope.  All of life is worth cherishing. 

This Makes Sense

"We may not have wings or leaves, but we humans do have words.  Language is our gift and responsibility. I've come to think of writing as an act of reciprocity with the living land.  Words to remember old stories, words to tell new ones, stories that bring science and spirit back together to nurture our becoming people made of corn."  

I've slowly and deliciously made my way through a book of essays by Robin Wall Kimmerer, entitled Braiding Sweetgrass. I'm struggling with words to convey how meaningful her writing felt to me.  It is so beautiful and poignant and it put words to a language that my soul speaks but which I have such difficulty expressing. My book is earmarked in numerous places of passages that struck me as true and beautiful. I especially appreciated the one above as I've been pondering how to continue to write. Sometimes I feel so scared to write - of not having anything to say - of feeling so rusty and inarticulate that these written words do nothing to communicate all that is inside. Alas, fear is paralyzing, and I want to be done with it. So, as many times as I've said it before, I'll say it once more -  that my intention is to show up here. 

These last few months of uprooting and rerooting ourselves have been all sorts of exciting, confusing, blissful, and heart-wrenching.  However, little by little, day by day, our days here make sense.  I feel so much more grounded now that we are settled into our home.  Last week as I was trimming an invasive vine out of our meadow, I felt so much contentment tending the land, and doing my small part to show my gratitude for all the beauty and life Mother Earth gives.  This morning, as I raked ruts out of our driveway (a huge storm washed through us yesterday), I felt purpose caring for our homestead created by other's hands and hearts.  I feel incredibly honored to have inherited this place and I want to be a good steward to it. When I'm on the porch, mixing up herbal concoctions, or reading in the hammock, I feel peace. I think to myself, this makes sense.  This is the life I've longed for.  This is the way I've dreamed of spending my days. I am home.  

 

 

 

 

 

 When we moved from Texas to North Carolina we weren't quite sure what our future would look like. We planned to buy a few acres, build a yurt, tend a garden, and live happily ever after.  Instead, soon after arriving, we found a beautiful little homestead that we knew would suit us perfectly.  It's bizarre how life works out. It was last fall that we camped at a nearby campground to our homestead.  Originally, we had planned to camp further west in another town about an hour away. However, when we arrived at the first campground, we weren't thrilled by the grounds  (too close to town and lacking big woods).  So we cancelled our reservations, kept driving to another campsite that we had heard about from a friend as being pretty decent.  We called to confirm that they weren't booked up and, sure enough, they weren't.  We drove and drove up a winding and twisting road that circles around the mountain. We soon lost cell service and arrived at sunset.  The campsite turned out to be great.  Deeply wooded, plenty of trails and waterfalls.  I took the best nap during one of our afternoons there.  It was quiet and secluded (we were camping during the week and not over the weekend).  We really loved this particular area.

So, when we were looking for temporary living arrangements for the summer, we stumbled upon an RV pad which could be rented from an individual long term.  The RV pad was just a few miles down the road from where we camped last fall. During this time, we had also put in a contract on a small tract of land in another area west of where we were living in the RV.  The plan was still to build a yurt.  Then a couple of weeks after we'd been living in the RV, I saw a home listing on Facebook. I had seen this home before (months ago) but it was out of our price range.  However, the new price had been slashed as they divided the land to open it up to more buyers.  Out of curiosity, Bea and I drove out to the address and took a peak around the grounds near the driveway entrance. Immediately, my interest was peaked.  It was lovely from what I could see. Still, I didn't immediately mention it to Byron and it was a whole week before we actually made the move to see the property with an agent. 

It was love at first sight. Truly.  A storybook. Apple trees and blueberry bushes and blackberry brambles and wildflowers and a pond and fenced in garden and lovely outbuildings and a tree swing. A forest and spring water. The details were everything. And then we walked into the house. Hand built. Round. Solar powered. Just lovely in every way. It felt like a dream. This couldn't really be within our reach? But it was.  As if the universe paved the way for us to find this place at this time.  

And here we are now.  So far away from the hustle bustle of city life, of suburban life, of small town life. It's quiet here. There is space to contemplate. There is place to savor the beauty. There is time to slow down.  There is time to do and to be. And I am counting every last lucky star.  Offering gratitude to the breezes that blow down our mountain. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.      

 

I was coming here to post about the recent happenings in our parts: purging of clutter, a new washer and dryer, the arrival of Autumn here in Texas, mama trotting on a horse and feeling ridiculously happy about those five or so seconds, the anticipation for the lovely Thanksgiving week ahead. All that good stuff.  

I feel the need to emphasize: it's golden and gorgeous out there right. 

And then I downloaded some photos to IPhoto and somehow moved my mouse which took me to my archives from a couple of years back at this time, when Bea was just 3 years old. And now, I'm struck with nostalgia wondering how, just how, it all goes by so fast and missing the days when I could scoop her up so easily into my arms. 

This past week was trying. After a nice long run of loveliness, we hit a wall, and it all came crumbling down. Now, I'm in the place where I am constantly reminding myself to dig up enough patience and deep breaths. And that when little ones push us away the hardest, that's when we need to return to them with the most love and empathy. If only I could be the kind of mother that remembers that simple advice as often I need to.  

Oh well, we can't beat ourselves up about what is or isn't. We must accept these challenges as the natural flow of growth. This too shall pass. I can't let it bring me too far down. Autumn is knocking on my front door and is begging to play. I'm not one to say no to such requests.  

Hope you all have a lovely week. 

XO,

Nichole

 

 

 

weekending

 

there's a mixture of rain and sleet falling right now. and only if i listen carefully, can i hear the dripping. in no time, the gloaming will give way to another long night. 

it's been quiet (as quiet as can be with a young child running circles around me) gray, and sparkly these last few days. my favorite kinds of days. cup after cup of warm tea. hurry up, close the door, the cold is coming in, shiver, kind of days. 

friday began with parent/teacher conferences in the morning. blustery comings and goings of very kind,incredible parents i get the pleasure to work with. it's a pretty sweet gig.  and also, with daddy officially down with a tooth absess. ouch. 

saturday was rainy, wet, freezing, shivering cold weather. wool socks, layers, wool sweaters, gray light, snow clouds (no snow though). a mama/daughter trip to the big city for a bit of pottery painting and window shopping. the layering of extra wool blankets on our beds. extra tight tucks for the little one. 

this house is drafty. those pretty windows and all that natural light they bring in means trouble in the winter. 

today has been an early morning run to the grocery store and then anchoring myself in the kitchen. it was a day of soup, fresh bread, eclairs, coffee, tea. soul food. gazing at the heavy, tumbling clouds from the kitchen windows, crushing on my twinkling star lights, and the sounding joy as the soundtrack to our day. 

 

linking with Amanda. 

weekend update...

 

 

 

 

 

I tried to focus on getting more nature into our days this week, since swim lessons are finally over and this leaves Tuesday and Thursdays afternoons free and clear.

It's really quite pathetic how little we've been walking or biking around town these days. There have been way too many short trips to the grocery store or Target in the truck. This is the time of year to live outdoors, to take long walks to the library and back, for impromptu front yard visits with neighbors, to routinely check on the status of leaves changing colors and such, to explore the streams and swimming holes that feed into the river. 

And here we are letting this precious time of year slip by. 

After lamenting to myself about the recent fast pace feeling to our days, I did manage to chuck the to-do list once this week, and venture out to the river with Bea. It was really quite a cold afternoon. We had a few below freezing nights earlier this week and that brisk, fresh air..well, it was just what we needed. 

Bea pretended she was a princess named Esther. She lived in cottage deep in the forest. She addressed me as "Mother" and she had me speaking to her using phrases like, "Ester, daughter,you shall walk along the path through the forest" and "journey home by dusk"... Funny girl. I mentioned to a friend the other day that she is in such a wonderful phase right now. She's fairy tales, horses, and folk music all rolled into one. That's Beatrix. Sometimes, I really wish I knew how to stop the clock.

Today, we rode our bikes down to the river again. Bea and Byron did a little fishing. Bea actually caught her first fish. It was a tiny little thing about 4 inches long. As soon as she pulled it out of the water, she ran and hid behind the trees. She said she was scared about catching the fish and that she felt bad for it. 

In other news, I'm gearing up for a full week at school with a Thanksgiving Picnic followed by parent/teacher conferences. I've been doing a little thrift Christmas shopping for the little one and have found some pretty sweet treasures...I wonder what Bea will think when the day arrives and she realizes that her mama and daddy routinely (and proudly) gave her used toys as gifts for birthdays and Christmases. Just another fun quirk about growing up in this family...

Oh, I have a few more fun links to share this week. 

This is going to be my 2014 calendar. Gosh, golly, I love that Phoebe!

I just don't know if I can resist a class like this. It sounds so juicy to me!  I took so many anthropology and folklore classes in undergrad and almost persued a graduate degree in folklore studies. At the very real risk of sounding like a brain dead, dumb mom, I will say there is something so profound and universal in the human existence. 

On that note, when you feel down and out on humanity, google this flash mob production and you'll feel so much better about the world. Do it! Press play! 

 

Seeing the little girl in red hanging onto the lamp post is the point where the tears flow for me. 

Practicing this on my uke. Yeah, my musical talents are just one more way I stay humble.

The dream is still alive! Not giving up on moving to the mountains. 

 

little loves.

Just popping in with a little list of loves.

-- Dinnertime by candlelight with my people. Unity, love, warmth. And the fact that my timehop app had a photo of dinner by candlelight a year ago today. It's a rhythmic world we live in.

-- Flannel sheets. Sandwiching myself between them and my heavy winter quilt, then snuggling up with a book and tea. 

-- Along those lines, my flannel nightgown. Very Ma-ish. And very me. 

-- The light around town around 4pm these days. Glorious. Breathtaking. So ready for the little one's swim lessons to finish up tomorrow, so that we can take full advantage of this fleeting time. Rec center, we must go our separate ways. Our autumn afternoons call for us. 

-- The Snow Child. More words on that maybe later. An enchanting and raw read. Thanks Amanda, Cory, and Amanda for the recommendation. 

-- This new Christmas album. Yep, I caved two days ago. What a sweet collection of holiday hymns. Can't get enough. Mary said to Joseph so meek and so mild, "Joseph gather me some cherries for I am with child."

-- Beginning to prepare for a sweet, little, Martinmas walk with good friends and children next week. 

-- Learning this new song with the children. And hearing Bea skip around the house singing it with all her heart. And then asking me to sing in a round with her. Swoon. My little one...oh, she is something to behold! I shall never tire of her innocent, happy, melodious voice. 

-- Bedtime. With the time change, sleep comes amazingly easy these days. Knock on wood. 

-- Friendships that grow up and old together. So grateful for the good, wise, and talented ones who surround and support me in my everyday. Thank you.

-- Gyo. This illustration makes me almost want to weep. 

 

What are you loving right now?

Family trip to North Carolina

Last week, my husband, daughter, mom, and I took a road trip to western North Carolina. From Texas, the drive takes about 18 hours. We broke the drive up into two days coming and going, stopping in Louisiana. 

What a special trip! With the leaves changing, those beautiful old mountains craddling us, and my family to explore and dream with, my heart was brimming with peace and joy. 

There is something about fall. And the gentle rolling mountains of Appalachia. If reincarnation is true, then my soul must have spent a lifetime or two somewhere in her damp forests.

We all had such a wonderful time. Byron and I got to squeeze in two morning hikes, just the two of us. Quiet, brisk, and then slow, and quiet, listening, pausing, sitting, watching, breathing. There is no better date for the two us. Mom and Beatrix got to bond while being back seat passenger buddies. They enjoyed each other so much, playing all sorts of imaginary games, and sharing plenty of cute conversations for Byron and I to eavesdrop on, which made us grin and chuckle quietly.

Sleepy dreams were nudged awake.  The three of us were pretty much sold (again) on cabin life in the woods. One day, maybe, we'll find our way back to four seasons, tall trees, and mountains. 

 

 

And as if a family road trip and the mountains weren't enough to feed the soul, I had the wonderful pleasure of spending time with Amanda! We've been reading each other's blogs for a couple of years now and I've long thought it would be so great to meet her and her sweet family in real life. The first time Byron and I drove to her house, I knew immediately which one was hers without even looking at the address because it just looked like her (and the glimpses I'd seen from her photos). Quaint, homey, and oh so lovely...

And let me tell you, Amanda went far and beyond to make us feel welcomed - all while juggling work, a visit with her grandma, and a poor, sick little one.  I'm so glad we got to meet in person. Blog land is such a peculiar venue for creating friendships. Meeting her was all at once exciting, comfortable, and awkward. But mostly...it was just awesome.

On one morning, both our families went apple picking together. It was a perfect, fall day -- rolling hills, apple trees for acres and acres, two families, little girls and big girls giggling and getting to know each other.

Now we are settled back into life in Texas though a piece of my heart stayed in Appalachia, tucked beneath the mossy patches and the damp fallen leaves in those beautiful, misty mountains. 

Little things.

 

Bea is riding on two wheels. Yep, done are we with training wheels. One more milestone has come and gone. We've been pedaling up to the university near us so that she can ride, ride, ride along the sidewalk paths without the worry of traffic. It's so much fun. I'm trying to establish a routine where I grab a spot on the lawn to read, relax, play with my camera, whatnot, while she enjoys the freedom of riding solo - all within my eyesight. I hate to break it to the coming of age students, but this mama and her four year old are taking a liking to campus life. 

---

Gosh, I really like her. I don't know if it's just who she is or because she's an only child, but she is such a great conversationalist. This girl can sit and talk. She has so much to share and so many big (like, existential) questions. So poised, she sits with her legs crossed, sips carefully from her mug, and begins her stories with lines like, "I heard the most unusal thing today, Mom." Sigh.

I remember when I was growing up, my mom was never a social mom. She kept to herself, didn't have "mommy friends", was obviously (as a single mom with six kids) very busy at home. But that's what she was after anyway -- her home and her family. She always said that we (her children) were her favorite people to be with.  She LIKED us. For who we were. For what we had to say or what we didn't have to say, for that matter. All six of us -- each and every one of us -- were so very different. We still are. No, she didn't try to be our friend, the cool mom in that guilty mom kind of way. Oh, no, she was MOM and she definitely was not cool. But she was the one person we didn't want to disappoint. The one we worked to make proud. She had a genuine respect in who we were as people. I always felt that. Unconditional love is quite a gift. 

I hope that's what Bea and I will be like. Actually, I hope we already are. We like being together. At ease with each other. She loves searching out coffee shops with me... Last night, I found her diverting sleep by thumbing through a Martha Stewart magazine she keeps mixed in with her fairy tales and chapter books. She delights in the little things. A beautiful sunrise. Wildflowers growing in the cracks of asphalt. The smell of wood burning. A grazing horse in a pasture.

Little things. That girl. She is something else. 

 

 

 

the beat goes on.

 

I started to write this post on Saturday morning when Byron and Bea were out having breakfast with his parents and I had a couple of hours alone to indulge by myself. During those couple of hours, I mopped and swept the floor. Yes, that's intirely typical of me. Then, my mom called and put me on speaker phone with my grandmother and I heard grandma's voice over the phone. It's been four years since the last time we spoke. Her simple one word responses to my questions were magic. A second chance. A resurrection. I thought those moments were gone forever. 

Next, I wrote a letter to Bea's birthmother and included recent photos and tidbits describing this wonderful being that connects us to each other. 

The beat goes on.

Inside my grandmother's mind exists a whole lifetime of memories...family, friends, vacations, inside jokes, scents, seasons, meals, laughter, hard work, sorrow, disappointment, reflection, youth, pets, small moments, tickle spots, coffee, phone calls...

I know bits and pieces but we can never know the whole.

In one hand I hold hers and in the other hand I hold my daughter's. She who has almost an entire lifetime ahead of her. With memories so few in comparison...What moments will her memory fill up with?

During those couple of hours alone, I was overwhelmed with deep love for my story. Which is my grandmother's story. Which is my mother's story. Which is my daughter's story and her birthmother's story. 

An invisible thread binds our hearts together. 

I thought about the suffering we have all experienced in one manner or another. And our choices to love because it's the only true path to travel. Patched, bruised, broken, healed...beauty rests in us all. 

The beat goes on. 

I spent the rest of the weekend living lightly and enjoying the blissful fall weather that graced our parts just in time for my birthday. I always think to myself that one of the greatest gifts my mother has bestowed upon me was birthing me on October 6. Hardly a year goes by without the much anticipated and welcomed cool front that manages to blow through just in time...

It was a beautiful weekend. My in-laws had a sleep over with Bea at their hotel room so Byron and I got to have a date night AND a next morning sleep in! I finally felt inspired to do some yard work and gardening. We are still what I would consider a hardscrabble mini-homestead, but we are trying nonetheless. 

This morning, Bea and I scurried out the door as fast as we could go to enjoy every second of the brisk weather. We ended up walking down to the river and spending the entire morning at our little small town swimming hole.

We did nothing. Tossed pebbles into the water. Gathered leaves and wildflowers. Listened to the sounds. She climbed up and down the limestone bank. Stripped herself of her layers. Dipped her toes and her hands.

Created a scoop from a piece of litter. Fed her stick pony. Watered her stick pony. I sat and watched and regretted not having a book. I passed my time by taking plenty of pictures. And I also reminded myself to do nothing. To just be in the moment. With her. She played and played for hours with nothing but the elements.

On our way home we treked through a patch of woods that run parallel with the hike and bike trail. She perched herself atop a boulder and looked down upon her surroundings.

She delighted in carrying pieces of litter to the trash can in the distance all by herself. She loves little doses of independence which require her to venture off all by herself. It was a perfect little morning void of conflicts and struggles. It was just the two of us at peace and together. I hope when I'm my grandmother's age, this morning exists somewhere in my memory. 

And that was my 36th birthday weekend wrap up!!