Boxed In

Yesterday I had an enlightening conversation with a woman- not yet a friend. In the past, I would have been intimidated by her- she is beautiful and dynamic- someone I would envy and try to emulate and assume that she would not choose to interact with me because I am not up to her standards. We talked about labels and how we limit ourselves by defining us and those around us. "Oh, she is vegan." Or, "they are unschoolers". We assume we know who someone is by their labels. I realized that while I resist being labeled, I have been desperately seeking those same labels as I begin to peel back the layers and really look at myself. Who is Taunia? She is a wife, mother, sister, daughter, birth supporter, chicken farmer.... the list goes on. It feels safe to grasp onto those labels as I look at myself, and as I look at others. But so limiting in my interactions with others.

I limited my relationship with my neighbor by labeling her. Though they were complimentary or flattering labels- artist, quilter, wise elder, mentor- I made assumptions about who I thought she was. I placed her in a box. I judged her. Mis-judged her. And did not really see her for who she was. Much like she did not see me for who I really am.

I don't want to do that anymore- to myself or to others. As I resist placing myself and others in that box- I feel so much more peaceful, more confident, less ashamed, less apologetic, better able to laugh at myself, to accept my own humanness and other's as well.

Mike and I were laughing last night as I recounted my conversation and then said, "You know who are non-labelers......?" There I go again. Habits are hard to break.

Lost in Translation

There are some people who know your faults, your imperfections, but see them and love you in spite of them. And then there are those who don't. Who only see your faults and humanness and choose not to look any further.

We found our home through our next door neighbors. We met them at our church and they told us about our home and after checking in with them to see if they would accept us as neighbors, we bought our home. The lady of the house is talented and artistic and I hoped we would become great friends and that they would become like family to us. Things began well and for the first year or two we began to develop a friendship. And then.... I noticed a chill when I saw her. So, I retreated and tried to give her space. Their eldest daughter moved back, and I knew how close they were and, sure, thought I wasn't needed any more. Plus, I never wanted to be an imposition and rejection is my greatest fear, so, really tried to stay out of their way.

They moved to WA two years ago, and their daughter and her husband have been living there. They seemed to be a private couple and I am a middle-aged housewife with 3 kids, so why would she want to hang out with me? See a pattern here? Anyway, parent-former-neighbors visit periodically and our interactions have been getting chillier and chillier. It has bothered me for a very long time- I have been wondering what I did to offend her/them. Well, they were down the week before Christmas and the husband went across the street to our good friends to tell them that the house was going on the market and their daughter was getting a divorce. They didn't come to tell us. I did go over to talk with the mother and had, once again, a really chilly conversation. I slept horribly, wondering, so decided that I should go ask her. What's the worst that could happen, right? We have no contact outside of their visits to their daughter now, and will have none after the house is sold, so, I have nothing to lose. And knowing would be so much better that wondering forever. I prayed for the opportunity to present itself to allow me to have a chance to ask her- and it did. The dad and daughter both left together, so I put on my boots and told Mike I was heading over. Surprised even myself.

I knocked on the door and asked if I could come in to talk for a minute. I told her that at one point we had been friends, but now felt that we are not, that I felt a chill whenever we spoke and I am not sure what I had done to offend her and was there something I needed to ask forgiveness for. She said that it was in the past and that now there really was no need to talk about it. But I told her I was asking for clarity, and I really wanted to know. Well, she proceeded to tell me that I had no idea how smug I came across and I thought I was perfect and better than them and was judging them and that I was unfriendly. Of course, I was shocked and said that it wasn't ever my intent to come across that way, that I really cared for her and their whole family. She said I did come across that way, so I asked her for some examples. And boy, she gave me some- a lot really. Here are some examples: I would not say hi when I saw them in the driveway; that I didn't want a real relationship, that all I wanted was information from them and I would only ask them about the house because I wanted to get my hands on their house; that I was competitive, materialistic; that I was the food police and never wanted to eat their food; I complained about a friend being miffed when my toddler got crumbs and food in their really nice car, and my friend should have been miffed and 'let me have it'. (Dear friend did not remember the incident- I did, and we resolved it.) Well, needless to say, I was crying and kept saying that it was never my intent to make them feel that way. That I cared for her and only wanted her to like me, and to please forgive me for coming across that way. Much, much more was said. I am leaving a lot out. And our conversation actually ended well, she was gracious and said that this was the first real conversation we had had in a long time.

So, I came home and have been processing ever since. My first reaction was shock, disbelief, horror, shame. I did see some truth in the examples she gave, that in them, were elements of my selfishness and insecurity, but really my intent was only loving and self-protection. And many of the examples she gave were years old. Years old, like 4 or 5 years old. And she was angry- angry with me for all of those years. She had been carrying that anger and hostility around for years. That really shook me to the core. To know that someone was carrying that kind of negative energy toward me for years feels awful.

It felt like she saw all my nasty bits- those places and things you try to hide, that are deep down, and she focused on those, and only those. I felt like I had been on trial- tried and convicted, but never knew my crimes, nor that I was even on trial. And it wasn't just her- I know her husband, children, their spouses feel the same way about me- so, multiple people. That is a horrible feeling. And how many others out there in the world, feel that way about me?

And then I was grateful. Grateful to know the truth. And that her truth wasn't my truth. That I had only held her and her family in the highest regard, my intent had been honorable and good. I feel only sadness for her and the anger she chose to hold for me. I could see how one could choose to interpret my actions the way she did, but most people wouldn't. I mean, would you take it as a snub if I brought my own cup of tea to your house? Eating the way I do (or should) saved my life and my daughters' lives, so yes, I am picky about what I put into my body, but that is not a judgement on you and your choices. (More on my relationship with food at a later date.) And the funny thing is, that some of the things she accused me of- being judgemental for one, I am guilty of, but not with her. I thought highly of her and her family, put them on a pedestal, truthfully, thought they were better than me. Why would someone as cool and talented as they are want to be friends with lowly me. I am off my point here, back to feeling grateful now. I am grateful that she was honest with me, that I see that her perception was just that- her perception. That I have some really wonderful and dear friends and family that love me in spite of my nasty bits. Isn't that amazing and wonderful?!! So, those of you who do love me in spite of my many flaws- thank you and I am grateful for your love.

Lesson 2. This could have been resolved and many of the hard feelings avoided all together if either of us had asked the other what was going on. One simple question, and, of course being truthful with the other. I would have been truthful. I thought she didn't want to know me on a deeper level. And she could have questioned me- asked me if something was bothering me, or told me when I did or said something that bothered her. I do know that I did not have the courage to ask her before now. I wish I had, but I didn't. I am only just now, at 38, confronting my deepest fears and seeing them clearly for what they are. So, no, I could not have asked that really hard question, because I wasn't ready to handle the answer. But guess what? I am still here, standing, I didn't shrivel up into nothing or dissolve in a puddle. So, she doesn't like me. My counselor says, "There are some people who will always love you no matter what. There are some people who will never love you. There are some people who just don't know you." I think she falls into both the latter categories. She thought she knew me and chose to dislike that person. I think things could have been different if we had been able to truly communicate. I think we could have been great friends. That really saddens me. I take my share of that blame, but only half. I think that her brokenness and my brokenness were a bad combination. I still think she is an amazing person, just not my friend.

I will continue to process this as it feels huge. I wish I were still in the grateful stage. There were a few days there were I was so happy and joyful and thankful for what I do have- the blessings and good friends and wonderful family. Today I am in the scared phase again- scared of what people think of me. That feels icky.

In Memory of

Done on his birthday.

Gavin's Birthday

.... is today. He would have been 10.

We will remember him today, together as a family. We will light a candle, go out to one of our favorite spots for breakfast, participate in a lantern walk tonight through the Rhododendron Gardens with Esther's schoolmates- the children have all made lanterns. It is a quiet, solemn walk with some singing, but mostly in silence. A peaceful way to conclude his birthday.

10 years later, the raw sting of sorrow has faded. But still, during this stormy season, the sorrow surfaces and he feels closer. And I welcome the reminder.

A poem....

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.


~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

In the Forging Fires....

.... is where I have been.

Coming home after our spring break visit those many long months ago, I slipped into depression and overwhelm and discontent with myself and my life. I have since been in the forging fires- melting away defenses and beliefs I have held for so long. Peeling away the layers of defense so I can see clearly the patterns and behaviors for that they really are, so I can make the changes I want and need to make. I have much more work to do, but am on the path I need to be, with the support I need to help me find my way. Life has not stood still, all this time. With three children, life is busy and full of joys, too. So, I am finding my way back here, to chronicle my journey once more. It is good to be back.

Crooked Creek Ranch- Day 3

I milked a cow! And I didn't do too badly my first time, I think. Though Dave did notice in the picture the white milk puddle on the ground which means I missed the bucket. It was fun and novel, though I am not sure if I would like it to be my every day chore. Betty is raising two calves and only half her bag works. A regular milk cow would need to be milked morning and evening, so Tami is glad that for now, she only needs to milk when she wants milk for her family.

With some of Betty's milk, Tami and I tried our hand at cheesemaking. The process seems fairly easy, if time consuming. We combined two recipes we found online for Farmer's Cheese. The main differences being the amount of rennet used and the time it needed to set up. All of the steps went according to the directions. We achieved a 'clean break', separated the curds from the whey, added some garlic and chives, tied it up to drain and put it in Tami's makeshift cheese press. We think it will be a bit rubbery rather than the soft cheese we are hoping for. We'll see tomorrow morning.

Cooking for a combined family of 10 is a full time job. As soon as one meal is eaten and cleared away, it is time to prepare another. And there is always a hungry child asking for something to eat. Because they live so far away from town, they stock up on groceries once a month. So, if they are out of something, they do without, or look for creative alternatives. The peanut butter cookies had vanilla bean seeds instead of extract, we are rationing the butter and eggs, and there were some apples not fit for eating fresh, so I made an apple pie yesterday. Chicken soup for supper, apple pie with whipped cream, yum. But I am glad that tomorrow will be a left-over day. No cooking of baking for me on our last day here.

My girls got to ride Sadie today. Caroline's first ride went splendidly. She loved it and cried for another turn. Esther is serious about learning to ride and wants to be let loose on her own. Tami gave her some gentle instruction in the corral and Esther felt like she was riding by herself. She accepted the lesson and directions from Tami with seriousness and determination and no fussing.

We decided to stay an extra day. The weather is beautiful, so the kids can play and visit one more day. OK, so I can stay and play and visit another day. We will head home Friday morning early.

Crooked Creek Ranch- Day 2

This morning dawned cold and clear. The temperature fell to 11 degrees last night. Today's plan was to stretch wire for the fence while the kids played. Though we really only get short spurts of time to focus on the fence before we are needed by one of the children. 

Colin accompanied Uncle Dave and Isabel to irrigate the meadows. Dave drives a team of horses, pulling a flat bed wagon loaded with manure. The manure is spread on the fields, forming dams to move the water where it is needed to go. It is an art to be able to move water uphill, and I am told, Dave is especially gifted at the task. Colin said the experience was 'interesting' and though he isn't necessarily ready to choose a career in irrigation, I think I could convince him to help out again.

There is always work to do here. My sister is the hardest working woman I know. But, she loves this life and the opportunity to work side-by-side with her husband and children, to ride and work with her horses, to roam this beautiful country. 

Life moves at a different pace here, slower and more simply. These things I am enjoying today- cousins playing together, conversations with my dear sister, fresh air and land for my children to roam and run on. 

Spring Break Ranch Visit- Day 1

I wasn't sure this was going to happen, a Spring Break visit to my sister's ranch. I was sick last week, the first week of vacation and didn't think I could make the trip. But then I rallied and decided I would rather have the kids in a different environment and with playmates then stuck in the house at home for a week. And I kind of felt like I owed them, being sick and grumpy all last week. Anyway, we left Sunday morning and had a really peaceful trip. The kids were wonderful, Caroline was a super traveler. The ranch is in Jordan Valley, OR. The trip took 7 1/2 hours and we traveled through intermittent snow flurries to arrive at suppertime.

The girls and I accompanied Tami to do the nighttime chores, feeding the milk cows and giving a bottle to a mother-less calf. Caroline was so excited to see the cows and Esther fed the calf a bottle. 

This morning Esther and Grace took off to explore. They have full access to the ranch and are able to roam and run as they please. After breakfast all the kids went down to the creek to play while I helped Tami stretch wire on her fence for her new, huge garden area. The babies played in the dirt under the sunny skies. 

Tami has a milk cow, a new endeavor for her. We started churning some butter in an antique churn. It took longer than we thought, but we all took turns turning the crank. We ended up with about 1 cup of butter and will try it on baked potatoes for supper tonight.

This afternoon, Esther went with Tami, Grace and Reuben to 'work some cows' on horseback. They were gone for over two hours. This was Esther's first substantial ride and I was worried she would get bored and start whining to come home. But Tami said she was a trooper and didn't complain at all. She had a great time. While they were away, Isabel and I made peanut butter cookies, while Colin began preparing potato cakes.

The view out the back is beautiful. The creek runs through the meadow under the  watch of the snow-covered hills. The nights are magical, with the stars shining bright in the clear, icy, inky air. I am glad to be here.

Not again

Yesterday at our Palm Sunday Service, real palm fronds are available for the children to wave as they sing and then can be folded into a beautiful cross. As I was holding Caroline, she poked me in the right eye with the cross. Who knew Palm Sunday celebrations could be dangerous? My vision was blurred yesterday, but I could function. I was able to ride my bike to a brunch date with my husband to possibly the perfect breakfast spot. And some sewing of Easter dresses on my serger (which totally rocks!). But then discomfort and difficulty keeping it open and it is deja vu all over again (my left eye was scratched by the other daughter in December.) Well, at least I know what to expect. Today I will be having lots of snuggle time with wee C in bed as I rest my eye as much as possible. Tomorrow, hopefully I will be almost back to normal. I have two dresses to sew this week!

There's Varmints in the City

Our little piece of urban-country was invaded by a varmint, probably a raccoon who attacked and killed two of our three chickens. Although we made the coop and hen house fully-enclosed, the chickens scratching at the ground began erroding underneath the enclosure in some places. I had been noticing that we should repack the earth in a few areas, but alas, that sneaky varmint took advantage of the lowered defenses and dug under the wire. Colin went to check for eggs and found the carnage. And carnage it was. Our sweet, beautiful Mille Fleur Bantam 'Peeper' and Auracana 'Rose' are gone. I will miss them. But before the sympathies start rolling in, let me say this. I am a farm-girl living in the city (I have been called 'a modern Laura Ingalls'), trying to create a bit of urban-country on our 50' by 100' lot. When 'Lucy' the hen turned out to be a 'Lucifer' I was all ready to eat that rooster. But the children begged to try Craigslist for a home and so we did. Though I was fond of the chickens, they had quit laying and truthfully were never great layers to begin with. We were planning on getting a new batch of chicks this spring and so this makes the transition a bit easier. Nature and it's power is evident even in the city. Kinda cool.

Unscheduled Blog Hiatus

It has been so long since I last post here. An unscheduled blog hiatus, if you will. There has been much to say, many thoughts and observations and events and finished crafts to blog. And yet, I cannot bring myself to record them here. Or anywhere for that matter. I compose them almost daily and they swirl, in my head, piling up into a hill of monumental porportions. And then, it is too late. There are too many. Lost in the abyss of my mind. And, my ponderings seem too bleak, too sad, too dark to subject anyone else to. This blog was meant to be a recording of fun and joy and lots of knitting. But... this is my life and this is my blog. So I will record my musings here, be they sad and full of sorrow. But I promise to throw in a bit of joy and crafting goodness, too.

In the wee hours of Christmas morn....

....the children were nestled all tucked in their beds. And a happy mama sighed, "Finished! All is well." Dough is rising in the fridge for cinnamon rolls in the morning. The gifts were all finished. There has been knitting and sewing- fingerless gloves for Colin, neck shrugs for the girls, wee mice for little friends to name just a few. This tired mama is off now to bed, to sleep for a bit until excited children wake me. Or rather, until an excited mama wakes her beloved children.

Happy Christmas.

Peace to All.

Good-bye November

I am not sad to see you go. November is a melancholy month for me, full of sorrowful memories.

Today, I received the beginnings of holiday shopping goodies in the mail. And one was for me. A gift I bought myself. Even though I have told my kids that they are not getting anything for themselves before Christmas. But, it was so pretty. Handmade. So I received this in the mail today, a Utili-Obi in a beautiful birdseed print. So lovely. And she sent along a free gift that took my breath away. A beautiful pendant strung on leather, "Fastidious" written on the back, bee collage on the front. A lovely, just for me. And a quilted sachet filled with lavender, the sweet smell filled my nose and soothed my soul. Thank you, bitterbetty (what a pair we are, bitterbetty and moodymama!) Not only am I thrilled with my Utili-Obi, but your lovely gift has left me speechless with gratitude. Buy Handmade for the Holidays!

The Pleasures of Food

I love food. I love to eat it, prepare it, share it with loved ones. Here are a few treasures I have discovered lately:

• Orangette and her fabulous Cranberry Chutney with Crystalized Ginger and dried Cherries (Yes, I know I mentioned this already, but is so very good)
• Arleta Library Bakery and Cafe- owned by a sweet family. The breakfast was fabulous- a perfect scramble and hash, homemade ketchup, thinly sliced grilled toast with Hubbard Squash and Bourbon Butter
• French Brie, arugula and pear, a delightful combination
• Coconut Mate Lattes from Townshend's Teahouse

Yum.

Giving Thanks

In no particular order, I am thankful for...

• sleep
• my little wiggle worm that makes me appreciate sleep
• mini dates with my husband
• wanting to go on mini dates with my husband
  
• my 13 yr. old who can babysit now
• Thanksgiving meal with dear friends right across the street
  
• good food (orangette's cranberry chutney is fabulous)
• having enough of everything
• a home of our own
• a daughter whose strength and will teach me so much about myself

Of course, there is so much more. Life is good.

Glimpses of Joy, Grace and Sorrow

Mike has conferences this week which means his schedule is wonky. He worked 13 hours yesterday and didn't get home until 8:45; he works from noon until 8pm tonight and tomorrow he works from 7:30 until noon. With his morning free, I was able to get our Thanksgiving groceries early, arriving as the stores were opening. By the time I was through, there were shoppers galore.

While at Trader Joe's, I saw one of my very first doula clients with her beautiful new baby boy. We had visited about a year ago at yet another Trader Joe's visit, when she shared her sorrow with me that she had been unable to have another child after suffering multiple miscarriages. She and her husband are such lovely people, great parents and one of my favorite couples I have worked with. I was delighted to see a wee babe in her arms this morning, just one month old. They became pregnant unexpectedly, after deciding to quit trying. She was able to have a beautiful homebirth with the same midwives I used and now they are a family of four. I am so thrilled for them. Seeing her and meeting her son made my day. I needed some joy today.

I have been feeling tenuous lately, teetering on the brink of tears most days. Some days I feel stronger and think I am moving into strength and then something, often small, tilts the scale and I am plunged back into sorrow. There is no one specific reason I can pinpoint, I am realizing I need to process some old, dormant sorrow. Sadness is bubbling underneath the surface. I am in the process of finding someone professional to help me work through this, but have yet to make the final connection and appointment. This is a vulnerable place to be. I hate feeling fragile. Hate feeling like any little thing will throw me off balance.

On a good note, Mike and I are doing really well. Things were really prickly for a while. We have moved into kindness and communicating well. We are being gracious with each other and enjoying each other's company. Walks to the coffee shop alone, a soak in the neighbor's hot tub, moments stolen alone soothe my soul. It is refreshing to experience even after 16 years of marriage. Can you believe we have been together for over half my lifetime? 19 years. He is my sweetheart, my best friend. I am thankful to be in this tender place with him.

The Work of Marriage

We have been together since I was 18, together for half of my lifetime. Married for 16 years, parents for almost 14. Now our littlest is 2 and I feel like I am emerging from the fog of being mama to a non-sleeping infant. To be deprived of restful sleep for so very long, I have forgotten what it is like to be rested, to think clearly, to have energy. Even now, some nights are more restful than others and then I am thrust once again into the mist.

But now, the fog is clearing and I can see this man, my husband beside me and though we live together and parent together, I found myself longing to feel connected to him again. To act like best friends once again, to cherish each other. Instead we have been acting like two duelers, circling each other with swords drawn, shields raised, trying to nick the other just enough to draw blood.

I have been irritated with him, he impatient with me. And neither of us willing to take that first step into kindness because we have been too busy protecting ourselves.

I am not one to let things go on as they are and so we have begun to have conversations, tough ones, emotional for me. And it is like we are speaking two different languages. He does not understand what I long for, emotional connection (how's that for female speak?), passion for our family, balance in how he spends his time. I try to communicate with different words. I am tenacious, dogged, stubborn that way. As I process, I have had some important realizations. Our years as parents have been largely traumatic and stressful. That is not to say that we have not have peaceful, joyful times, but five stressful, complicated pregnancies, three premature infants with NICU stays, the death of Gavin, even Caroline's healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy and homebirth was fraught with worry and stress. We have been living in survival mode for almost 14 years. These last 2 almost three years have been the hardest. Juggling three children, crazed sleep-deprivation and I have been in survival mode with no energy left over to give much, if anything to him. No wonder he is shying away from me, I have been unavailable and out of touch for a long time.

But, we are able to begin to hear one another. To lower our shields. To trust each other and move into tenderness and kindness again. I am humbled to be with this man. To walk beside him. To be the recipient of his grace with me.

This is the work of marriage. The ebbs and flows, the peaks and valleys. It is difficult at times, but it is good.

I have four children

Our second son, Gavin Isaac was born 9 years ago today. Early, at 27 weeks, weighing 2 pounds 11.5 ounces. My pregnancy had been fraught with too many difficulties and problems to list here and the outcome was uncertain. The issues were with my body's ability to carry and maintain the pregnancy and he suffered those effects. After infection and 3 surgeries, it was all too much for his tiny body and he died at 2 weeks old. 14 days are not many to know one's child, but it was his lifetime and it is all we had. There were days when we were hopeful that he would one day come home to join our family; days when I was able to hold him on my chest and feel his warm body on mine and those were moments of joy and peace. Today, nine years later our family is remembering and honoring his memory and place in our family. There is a hole, a gap between Colin and Esther where Gavin belongs. I wonder what he would look like, who he would be, my little boy of nine. When I am asked the question, "How many children do you have?", that oh-so-dreaded question, for those of us who have lost a child, my heart still skips a beat. And I answer the question evasively, that I have a 13 yr. old son, and a 6 yr. old and 2yr. old daughter. Not wanting to deny Gavin's place in our family for he lives in our hearts.

I have four children. Three here on earth and one in the heavens. I know Gavin is happy and whole and healthy. I love him. I miss him.

Bonnets and Boots

I finished Hello Yarn's Top-down bonnet. I made it for wee C, but even though I thought I was compensating for my gauge being off, it turned out infant-sized. Oh, well. I gave it to a dear friend who just had a baby, so it's all good. It was fun and so easy. I hope to attempt the Sweet-baby Cap again. Hopefully I will get it this time.

I attempted to photograph my boots. Do you know how difficult it is to take a picture of boots while you are wearing them? My photography skills are sorely lacking. And I think I need new camera. I am thinking about the Nikon d40. We'll see.