seeking the wild of the everyday

Thursday, September 19, 2013


(but first, an addendum to my previous post about the house:
i'm leaving it posted because it happened, and i felt wild and raw during the time. i currently do not feel the same way...there were many facts of interest that i was then unaware of that, in present light, make me glad it did not work out.
the end.) 

i dig cycles.
the turning of the earth.
the response of plants and all other living things.
(moon in saggitarious, mars in aquarius, and venus in gemini can do that to a fellow 
mary, your posts have been reminding me to dig out my old charts!)

in the spirit of harvest:

hailey the farmer. dang girl, you livin the dream. i was boggled by her numerous heirloom veggies.

side note: hailey and i go waaay back. yeah, this photo happened. when teddy was link's age. and way before that; we're cousins.
and i have been greedily feasting on the best real food since...zuchini relish, home made goat cheese and milk, eggs, smoked peppers, vinegary hot sauce... i've been swooning over meals i've been making. hailey you spoil me. let's talk about dehydrators again. we belong together.

now far and near on field and hill
we watch the death of chlorophyll
as earl autumn rushes in
with xanthophyll and carotin.
i hold that ignorance is bliss
considering the fact that this
is how a botanist percieves
the colorings of autumn leaves.
(so this is autumn, w.w. watt)

teddy, one year old.

a past harvest moon.
a study of curious blue oak leaves:

uprooting, moving about:

wright's lake

taylor creek, tahoe basin.

aspen grove

google+, you gif crazy.... the watershed is alive with the sound of music
stream profile at the visitor center: a happy regular memory from childhood.

the bird

da ow, the lake of purity, the gem of the sierra.

juxtaposition at fallen leaf lake:
old film: teddy at fallen leaf lake meadow, age one

fallen leaf lake, little teddy

i've gone to this place every year of my life, september is the best time to go. the sage is blooming, the air is balmy and golden, the air sweet with jeffery pine. pine nuts swirl to the ground and it snows yellow pine needles. taurus and the pleiades stare down from their velvet back drop, telling the same tales of summer's end.

same meadow, five years later

teddy, age almost 6, link, 18 months. pondering how quickly they grow. BLOWING MY MIND.

i gather treasures, colorful stones and minute bits of lake driftwood, for my bio-regional swap buddy.

flying fairy food feeds us. "a seed is a baby plant and a bundle of food all wrapped up in a package." -the green kingdom. baby pines.

jabbers, melts my heart. hikes around, melts my heart. i snuggle this little goober. his comprehension grows every day. we can really talk to this tiny human, and he communicates back. magical.

almost 6, holy moly. i've lived 1000 lives it seems, with this kid beside me.
what does it mean to be "settled down?" i've been thinking about this a lot. married? parenting? in one place? older? schlepping my kid to school every day in the camry with other parents?

i never thought 25 would look like this for me, but let me tell you it ain't too shabby. ;)

where else can i share these gifs?
i've envied/envy women who've waited to become mothers, who've had all of their 20's and 30's to address their needs and dreams and wanderings. in my personal limited opinion i think that is a great way to really become ready for motherhood/parenthood. i was talking a new friend from school, an older mother than i. she told me the first day of school she dropped off her child, and then she just sat and bawled in her car. "you mean i have to do this for the next twelve years?" she, like me, could not grasp the idea of being so anchored, for better or worse, to their child's routine. drop off and pick up and little room for wild adventures in between. when where we supposed to road trip across the country? etc etc etc...during weekends and summer break i guess. this woman, a dual-citizen who is well-traveled, told me she envied me. i'm 43, she says, when your kids are done with high school you'll be younger than me. you can go and do whatever the f*** you want.
i laugh, but you've already done so much of what you wanted to do, i haven't!
me and teddy from another, wilder, time.

how do i know what 40 will look like? will i want the same freedom or will i crave to be settled down then?

 WHOA, the adventure of it all, everything, especially young motherhood and the beauty of the two i love and care for, and who love me back.

transitioning, always.
hello equinox. 

(ps- there are a lot of smart and talented parents at teddy's school who volunteer their skills ((accounting? writing grants for non-profits? carpentry?)) yeah, i can't do any of that... but i can point out plants and share exciting facts about them!

i'm leading the children on a native plant walk along the creek this tuesday and i am beaming.
i have knowledge and gifts to contribute to the school's community.)


Thursday, September 5, 2013

summertime sadness

(life lessons.)

9/2/13- it's tuesday.
the last four days a tornado of tantalizing dreams roared through our lives,
passed through
tempting us
with our hearts' dearest wishes,
and then leaving nothing but devastation and debris.

last thursday night a family friend posted a real estate listing on fb-
it took me a few moments to realize that i wasn't breathing.
ty got home from work and we ogled the 
house porn over and over (and over) again-
photo from to see more fotes.

it was decided: we would make an offer the next morning and put our house on the market. i haven't slept since.

when i was hanging with mackenzie at the house, last summer. 
this was huge. ty never even wants to talk about moving, it's not something that's financially responsible at the moment (thank heavens i married a person with both feet on the ground)...for us to both decide on this plan filled me with pure euphoric joy. 
we're we leaving suburbia? 
was this our great and holy exodus from the sea of despair?
was i dreaming?
this house is placerville legend. i would swim here as a girl. ty and i even tried to have our wedding reception here. my dear friends were renting and caring for it for the last year, so i was able to visit it frequently!
the pictures in the ad do not serve it well. 
this place is an effing dream. come. true. and we were making an offer.

cece and mackenzie sit under the 100 year old walnut tree in the front.

 in my mind/heart i was already freed. we, together, we're drawing our map to Sanctuary, to bees and milk goats, to mature pines and the cluck of chickens, children playing freely on the land.

i was saying goodbye to all of my safe and fortifying spaces i had discovered in roseville in the last 2 1/2 years, wistfully roaming though the house, even feeling nostalgic, seeing that we had finally succeeded in making it feel like home.
but i was burning.
for so long those feelings of wanting to leave have been
in order to cope, and i let them loose
(i'm serious, cliches aside.)
we prepped the house, scrubbed, took down prayer flags and that atrocious thrifted painting of edgar allen poe. we had showings. we set the selling price to ensure we'd be in escrow in a week.
it. was. happening.

we knew, of course, that there were others interested, other offers. we said not to get our hopes up. we said it was a slim chance-- none of that prep matters.

making flower essences in the airy country kitchen, last summer.
we got a call today saying the owner was going with another offer. it's been said that the owners thought hard over this, they know us, (OLD family friends) they wanted the new owners to have that connection....but in the end the cash offer was chosen. (no-duh. i think i'm trying to make myself feel better by thinking we ever had a chance.) it doesn't matter and towns are small.

it's hard not to be bitter. i am entitled to nothing. cash is cash.  but i feel like something was taken from me and my family... my dreams, my departure. it's hard not to wish termites, to dwell in sour grapes, because in the end i want all to be able to find fulfillment and live their dreams....but what happens when theirs end mine? how could these newcomers know that i've known and wanted this house for years?

i've never cried so hard or so much in my life.
an ancient surge of motionless depression wells up within.
ty says to move on, i'm grieving what could've been.

"i'm wild! i'm seriously wild! i can't live here anymore!" i cried at ty through my tears.

what kids do when they're outside: teddy, willow, autumn, wendy, play for HOURS in the puddle. he played at grandma's while ty and i scoped out the house with the agent.
tonight, out of anguish, grief,
i jumped on my bike and ran suburbia a-muck-
i was supposed to be leaving.
i'm still here. i'm still here.
 i tell myself that the universe has a plan, that there is no coincidence, but that's empty self-soothing talk to a girl who will come up with less cash.
i'm not leaving.

the sunset, marbled from a blessed day of fortunate rain
was truly mystical.
the universe painted a rainbow
i'm quite certain that i'm the only one in roseville who looked toward
the heavens and saw it-

(photo of burby rainbow and me 2 years ago, from another bike trip fueled by panic and grief... they cleanse the heart.)

it promised me nothing,
only beauty despite pain,

how do you cope with soul-shattering sadness?