You Say Goodbye, and I Say Hello

This is the mood I'm in today.

Bring it.

It's 35 degrees up here in NW Indiana, and I believe I can rest now, knowing that outdoor pursuits are laid to rest for the time being.

For some reason - I always feel in limbo at this time of year.

Fall - absolutely my favorite time of the year - but I'm left wondering if I should start pursuing indoor activities, or continue weeding, etc.  

You think it's all over outside, and then it's not - just kidding  - it is - wait, nope...

That's how it seems to me!  

Do I put the hoe away or not!?

Make up your mind!

With a frost due tonight - I can say - 

Goodbye.

Goodbye mosquitoes good bye fresh beans, goodbye humidity, good bye summer breezes in my bedroom window - goodbye grass mowing, goodbye zinnias

 (perhaps the hardest goodbye of summer).  

But, as I increase in wisdom and wrinkles, I'm realizing that behind every goodbye, 

 there awaits a 

hello.

Sometimes these hellos are unwelcome, as I've found out recently.

I did not welcome sorrow with open arms.

I did not.

And yet - with sorrow unwelcomed - there are still lessons if we search deep enough.

Oh how I'm embracing my friends and family now - oh how I make a point to contact my sisters daily - I never let Glenco leave without a hug and a kiss.  Family suppers are much more often.

Sometimes in death - we find life.

So, as I sit here robed in fleece, clutching my new favorite tea - 'Yorkshire Gold' - 

I'm feeling a goodbye in my heart, a so long to summer and all that it holds.

As you may or may not know, I strive to go the entire winter without complaining.

So I say this right now - 

Fall - you are welcome here!

You - in all your blaze of glory - even though you bring certain death behind you - I embrace you.

I will drink your tea, I will celebrate your pumpkin-spiced anything - I will revel in the color and texture you bring to our world.

I will embrace the condensation on my kitchen window whilst the soup simmers.

I'll slip on my fuzzy slippers with gratitude.

I will be thankful for a cupboard full in preparation of the cold.

I will marvel in the cyclical nature of things.

And I will make the most of you.

I will dive into my indoor pursuits with abandon!

I will find beauty and balance in all things.

I will continue to be the best Jayme that I know how to be - and I will continue to 

look for ways to improve and live fully.

As the leaves fall off the trees, I will let thought patterns and behaviors that do not benefit me fall.

Goodbye summer - hello fall.

What are you happy to say hello to at this time of year?

Bonus points if you say 'Downton Abbey'.

:-)

A Pig Named Cool Whip

I've been quite busy in my absence.

I still struggle with time management - trying to stuff 10 lbs of turnips in a 5 lb sack so to speak.

I still struggle saying no - cause I really do want to do everything.

The more I say yes, the more frazzled I become and the next thing I know I'm somewhere mid-week, bra-less, in my pajamas, overwhelmed, nursing a latte at 3pm. Sometimes it feels as if squirrels have nested in my brain, and I can't for the life of me think right or prioritize anything.  

When I get overwhelmed like that, I dream the craziest dreams.  Full color, feature length film type dreams.  I had such a dream shortly after picking up half a hog that I purchased locally from a gal that raised it humanely and organically.

Let me talk about bacon for a moment before I tell you about the dream - did you know that half a hog only has about 8#s of bacon on it?  I'm not sure I can convey the disappointment I felt when learning this news.  The butcher had called me asking me gobs of questions like 'how thick do you want your pork chops?', 'do you want your bacon thin or thick?' - that's when I stopped him.  I asked him how much bacon there was.  "About 8lbs.".  My heart (and my stomach) sank to the ground.  I was hoping this half a hog would last us a year - until I could purchase another one.  There was no way 8lbs of bacon was going to last me much over a week, let alone a year - anyhow - I had the bacon sliced thick, but only had them process half of it.  I'm going to try to smoke the remaining 4lbs myself.  Stay tuned.  

The butcher also asked me if I wanted the lard.  I said yes, just because I thought if I had it coming, I wanted it.  What I would do with it, I had no idea.  Of course, if I were still baking pies daily, I could have used it.  I toyed with the idea of making soap.  It just sat in my freezer for a while, and just recently, I gave it to my homesteading neighbor - because I purchased a quarter of a cow and needed the freezer space.

The meat, by the way, is incredibly delicious - and quite different from the pork I had been purchasing at the store.  I still struggle with eating meat - and if I think about it too much it truly bothers me - but for now - I do get my meat locally, raised organically - and it eases my conscious somewhat. I do know that I shan't raise my own birds for meat again, or at least at this writing, I know I won't.  We all know how I change with the wind though.  Don't be surprised if next week I'm ordering birds for butcher!

Back to the dreams - 

I dreamt I had a pig named Cool Whip and we were the best of pals.  Then, I dreamt about that bucket of lard.  I dreamt that I was slightly stalking Alton Brown.  I mean - I've got a total crush on the guy.  I drove to Cleveland to meet him - he was so kind. (that really happened, I didn't dream it!)

In my dream, Alton was avoiding me like the plague, until he found out that I possessed a bucket of organic lard.  The tables then turned, and he was pursuing me.

And that my friends - is the power of hog.

I'll close here with a recipe - it's for ribs (of course) by Alton Brown (of course).

My favorite rib recipe by far - although I do leave the chili powder out of the rub.

Alton Brown Ribs

Til soon, 

Recommence

I've missed you.

I've missed me.

I've missed blogging.

Thank you a million times over for all the love and comfort you gave to me last month.

All the cards and notes did my heart a world of good.

I only have a moment today, but I wanted to thank you and let you know that I'm OK.

I'm just as squirrely as I ever was.

Talk soon.

A Hair Past Six

It was just a hair past 6:00AM when I seated myself in my sister's Ford Explorer - put my coffee in the drink holder and buckled myself in.

We were headed to Missouri.

My haphazardly packed vintage suitcase was in the back, and I wondered if I'd packed a hairbrush.

My oldest sister Vivian had taken ill, and the Pastor was summoning the family to come.

At a few hairs past 6:00AM my sister's cell phone rang with the news that Vivian had been unable to wait for us, and decided to go on home.

I've never lost a sibling before.

It's a different genre of grief.

It's losing a partner in crime - childhood memories - it's squinting at the horizon line of life and seeing something that you couldn't quite make out before - and now it's coming into view more clearly.

Your own mortality.

I just wanted to share one quick thing - and honestly, I just don't have it in me right now to say anymore.

In the final two days of my sister's life - she kept talking about a black cat. 

She wanted a black cat - a stuffed one - a real one - a black cat.

None of us knew where this was coming from.

My sister bought a little black stuffed cat for her, and was bringing it to her.

One of her caretakers had a black cat, and was bringing it by for a visit.

We were all perplexed.

Until today - going through photos - I found this.

My sweet sister Vivian as a child with a black cat.

This photo just tore me up.

I found this sweater today when shopping for an outfit for the services:

I do believe it's 95 degrees in Missouri, but I'm wearing this to the funeral.

I'll be gone the better part of a week - I'm so not looking forward to all of this - 

if I cross your mind this week - do say a prayer.

My mind is aflutter with thoughts like 'is she whole now?' 'is her mind working fully?' and 'why is it that we consider her abnormal?'

My prayer for us is that we'd really really realize how brief our time is here, and that we'd begin to be kinder to each other.  We'd be more understanding, patient, accepting.  We'd put our phones down and look into each other's eyes and have deep conversations.  We'd listen more than talk.  We'd cherish each other. We'd take our eyes off of Facebook long enough to enjoy the sunset.  We'd spend more time with friends and family.  We'd take better care of ourselves.  We'd slow down.  We'd even stop more often.

It's over in a blink.

All the News Worth Printing

A month?

Seriously?

I can't believe it's been one month since I've sat here and jabbered.

Remember that soup that I was making in early July?

It was a premonition.

We've had unseasonably cool temps here, and I've even been chilled at night in the yard at times!

Life is good friends, it's very good.

It's so good indeed that I don't know what to talk about first.

Let's talk about Aaron...we haven't talked about him in, like - forever.

Do you know the child is nearly 19 years old?  

It always flabbergasts me when I look at him - and he's a man - but he's a boy.  But he's a man.  

He's doing great - loving life - planning his move to Chicago.

His cologne lingers longer in the house than he does.

He breezed in last night for a few minutes.

I hadn't seen him for two days - and we'd just sat down to a bowl of Ina Garten's Chicken Chili 

(see, I'm still cooking up the fall foods!) 

and I was so excited to see him.

I ushered him to the table in between hugs and kisses - 

"tell me what you've been up to!"

He brings so much life into the house - I love hearing his stories - Lord - the laughter!

I was saddened when he said 'I've only got a few minutes Marmie!  I'm leaving for a five day camping trip to Wisconsin - I'm just here long enough to pack!' To which I respond 'but what about my hair!?'

And so that's how it goes here with him.

He's happy.

I'm happy.

I told him to be careful - and my exact words were 'now - don't be drinking and fall off the boat and drown - cause things are really looking up in my life right now'.

We collapsed in laughter and kisses - and he blew the horn on his way out of the driveway.

He's a boy. 

He's a man.

On to the yard - 

I've fallen in love with gardening all over again!

I'm so enjoying the changes, and the downsizing.  It's like I have time to think again, and be creative!

I'm not spread so thin that it's all I can do to maintain things.

Here's just a few snapshots...there's still so much work to do here, but I'm just over it - it is what it is.

It'll get done.

Someday.

I'm waking up to the possibility that there is life beyond being consumed by this old house.

Thank God for kind neighbors with heavy machinery!

Where I sit with my morning tea/coffee.

This used to be the garden where the brick walkway was, and the scarecrow....ah well....it's all lawn now, with a little veggie garden.  I'll get some new photos soon. (like next month!)

 I promptly took out my seeds and planted a little vegetable garden.

I'll get a few beans and cucumbers before the frost.

Today I plant more lettuce and peas.

The chickens are terrific.  I just have 8 now.

I sold 10 to a great gal in my Beekeepers Club.

The bees are doing 'ok'.  I've got a few great hives, and a few not so great hives.

I've ordered a naturally raised half a hog - and a quarter of a cow.

I'm doing well with eating right and have started excersing again, as much as my knee allows...and I've even *gulp* committed to doing the RAGBRAI bike ride (500 miles across Iowa) next year with a blog reader I've not met yet!

I'm in a good, mentally and emotionally healthy place with food and my body.

The best news of all - I'm well.

So is Glenco.

Nary a thing to complain about.

Remember a year ago?

I do declare that it's taken nearly a year of getting that Effexor out of my system for me to truly 

feel like myself again.  

What we've gone through here is a lot.

I know that drug has helped some people - but I believe it's harmed just as many, if not more.

I can't encourage you enough to use drugs as an absolute last resort.  

Let food be your medicine.

If you are going through a hard time - find a friend to be an advocate for you - don't blindly follow Dr's recommendations.  Research things for yourself.  Follow your instincts.

Peter McWilliams wrote:

Definition of a victim: a person to whom life happens.

And doesn't life just happen to us all?

I suppose it depends on what we do with it.

Will we dwell on it, or let it destroy us - or will we find the gumption to get up and start over?

I feel like I must have been in the front of the Gumption line when God was handing it out.

I'm not sure where I get it from, but I flat out refuse to quit, give up, see thing negatively, or believe that life is anything less than what we make it.

I'm looking forward to August - not with butterflies in my stomach - but butterflies in my spirit.

Somethin' good is about to go down.

Maybe it's Menopause

You know the jingle

"maybe it's Maybelline"?

That's what we sing around here, but we change the words..

"maybe it's menopause!"

I just sang it a few minutes ago in the kitchen.

It's the 1st of July.

Weather.com predicting a high of  82 degrees today, with humidity in the 3,498% range,  and I'm up in the kitchen making vegetable beef soup.

I'm sure Glenco and Aaron can't wait to get their mouth up on a bowl of hot, hearty beef vegetable soup on a steamy July day such as today.

Maybe I'll bake a pumpkin pie.

What would possess me to make a pot of this today?

Perhaps it's that my veggie drawer in the fridge is starting to resemble a morgue.

I'm going to call Glenco to the fridge soon to see if he can identify some of the contents.

I'll cover the veggies with a paper towel and somberly pull it back as Glenco looks on in horror.

 'Yes!  I recognize that leek! The last time I saw it was at the Piggly Wiggly -

 that had to be over a week ago'.

It's time to make some soup, y'all!

Last night I made this for dinner, and it was a hit.

Recipe  HERE

The only problem was that Aaron ate all the bacon up on me. 

I was perplexed, as I'd cooked it before I left for the day, only to find it mysteriously missing when it was time to assemble the salad.

Aaron was also mysteriously missing.

See?

He knows better. 

 I could have flown into a rage when I noticed the bacon missing!

Or started crying.

Maybe it's menopause!

(seriously - I never fly into rages, I really don't.)

As delicious as the salad was without the bacon, I can only imagine (and trust me I did) how great it would be with that divine salty crunch.

In other news, we had some pretty hardcore storms hit the area last night.

I lost a potted plant.

I shall rebuild.

In other other news - I found out that I have a torn meniscus in my right knee, and some bone on bone action there as well.  Couple this with the tendinitis that is still in my right shoulder and forearm - I'm a hot mess.

I could barely raise my right arm today.

As I stand out in the garden with my fork...I feel like I'm standing at the ocean with a Dixie cup.

You just have to laugh, you know?

I do promise to post some pictures of the carnage that is my yard.

I cannot tell you the grieving process I've been in over it.

Literally - all the steps.

I in no way mean to make light of the loss some people have experienced, but loss - is loss.

Yes, the loss of my garden doesn't compare to the loss of other things - but I do believe that we need to even grieve and process the small losses in our lives.

Shock:  How did my garden become such a hot mess?

Denial:  Wait, I can do this.  Sleep is overrated.  We don't really have to do anything else this summer other than yard work, do we?  Order a pizza and let's get busy!

Anger:  Why won't anyone help me?  Don't they like yardwork?  Who planted all these stupid plants!?  Why do things keep growing!?  I want to move to a retirement community.

Bargaining:  OK, OK - I can do this.  I should just make it a LITTLE bit smaller - I mean come on - look at all the time you've invested in this.  It's so lovely!  Everyone will miss your gardens.  Maybe you could just mass plant - yes - mass plant - that would be easier than the cottage garden.

Depression:  All is lost.  I have no life.  Who am I without gardening?  No one will ever like me again.  Why would anyone want to come here?  I'm such an idiot!  I've created a monster!  I'm old!  I'm crippled!  I can't do this anymore!  I don't want to do this anymore!  Is there really life outside the trowel?  I'm going to move to Florida and take up Zumba and macrame.

Testing:  This is where I am now.  Making peace with simple.  Making peace with a little well done.

Acceptance:  Stay tuned.  : -)

As always - I encourage you all to love your family hard today, live a little slower today, and be grateful for.every.little.thing.

Like hot soup in July.  

Til soon.

xo

I Got Nothin'

Thank you for such a warm welcome back!

I've been sitting here in my living room, savoring a delicious latte as I listen to a gentle storm passing through the area.

We've sure had our share of the rain up in here.

I've got my yoga video queued up and I'll be unrolling the yoga mat in a moment.

I've sat down a few times to write a blog, and well...

I got nothin'.

The beauty of nothing new.

I'm embracing it.

In actuality - there's a lot new - but it just doesn't seem noteworthy.

I'm more about listening than talking these days.

I've downsized the chickens.

Yep.

I have 7 now.

I'm liking it.

I can dote on them again.

It was hard to spread my affection between nearly 20 hens.

I don't know how the Duggars do it.

The gardens continue to be under construction, or perhaps more accurately - deconstruction.  No sooner do I close one up - I fight the urge to make a new one elsewhere.

Glenco is great, Aaron is swell.

I'd have to start thinking hard to find something to complain about.

Word on the street is that I'm flat out tired.

If I'm honest - I'd say I've caught myself resenting summer this year.

I shan't have it.

I think I'm more menopausal than I'd care to admit.

I feel that in ways my eyes have been opened to my manic, yet endearing views of life.

My 'go big or go home' ways of living have caught up to me.

I bet I've apologized to, and thanked Glenco a hundred times in the month of June.

I've thanked him for all the hard work he's done around here, and apologized for how often I've changed things - over and over.  I keep promising him that this downsizing is for real - and will stick - and I dasn't plan on changing my mind about it.

No, really, I don't.

"Go small and stay home" is my new mantra!

I just wanted to drop in today and tell you I was thinking of you all - and let you know how much I appreciate you!  Please know that I as I go through my daily routines around here, I think of you all and smile - 

Til soon...

Up From the Dead She Arose

 

Have you wondered where I was?

Did you think some evil befell me?

Were you having visions of the chickens pecking at my decaying carcass?

 

: -)

 

I'm here - and very, very well!

 

There's going to be heaps to catch up on - but I just wanted you to know -

I live.

 

Just over a month ago - my laptop gave up the ghost.

 

Replacing it, or repairing it was low on my list of priorities - so I just closed it and put it away.

 

I pulled out my old defunct cell phone and tried to stay somewhat connected through that - but it was such a pain.in.the.butt.

I tried in vain about four times to put a one sentence blog post up letting you guys know what was up.

 

Thank you for your comments and emails!

 

A blog reader from California, sweet Mary Jo - heard about my plight on Facebook.

She had a dream in which she sent me a laptop.

Upon waking - she sent me an email saying that she felt she was supposed to send me one.

 

I hemmed and hawed a bit - not knowing if I could/should accept such a generous gift - and how would she feel if I didn't blog - but just sat around and ate Cheetos and surfed Pinterest?

 

I thought perhaps I was done blogging.

I was enjoying my season of being unplugged.

 

Then, one morning whilst making the bed - I had a blog post burning in my duodenum that I felt needed to get typed out.  I even had a title for it "Chasing the Noodle".

 

I accepted her offer.

 

This beautiful laptop I'm typing up on is nicer than anything I could have purchased for m'self.

It literally just came out the box, and here I sit - pecking feverishly, letting y'all know I'm alive.

 

Do you know that feeling you have after you've slept in a strange bed for a few nights?

How good your own bed feels?

 

That's how my fingers feel right now typing up on a real keyboard!

 

I'll catch up with you in the days ahead.

 

I've missed you.

 

 

 

PS - I apologize for any technical errors this post seems to have - I have to do some figuring on here....

Living Life Less Fabulous

All things are well here.

Nothing much new to report.

My sister is moved and loving Crown Point.

I visited family in Missouri and dodged tornadoes.

Glenco and Aaron are well - thriving even.

The chickens are happy and healthy -  I'm waiting, as I type, on a farmer from Watseka, IL to 

stop by and pick up Lord Grantham.

Its been a hard decision to re-home my rooster - but a decision has been made.

He's a fine chap - but he's just too rough on the hens.  I can't think of a word to describe him.  

It's somewhere between rambunctious and barbaric.

My hens need Rogaine.

Not on my watch L.G. - not on my watch.

The bees are busy and things feel set aright now that I have my boxes full of them again.

The garden - well - the garden is under big time construction.

We've taken down all the wooden 'shabby chic' picket fences. 

At some point during the Polar Vortex they crossed that fine line, going from 

'Shabby Chic' to 'Meth House'.

We are going to replace it with the old wire fence I have.

from Pinterest

When we took it all down to repair and repaint it - Glenco and I just kind of looked at each other like 'you feel like doing this again when your 70?  Ya, me either.'

I'm reseeding some of the gardens with grass seed.

Although it will save time in the future, it's a ridiculous amount of work right  now.

Some things in my life are coming to an end.

Saying yes to all of this yard work has me saying no to other things in my life.

Other things that I want to say yes to.

Naps.

Bike rides.

Camping trips.

Feeling like things are 'done'.

Day trips.

Hiking.

Knitting socks.

Not smelling like Icy Hot.

Weekends of 'what to do?'

Motorcycle rides to no where.

It's hard to see seasons of life go.

It's hard to admit that you can't do it all anymore.

When your gardens have been fabulous, when you are 'known' for them - it's hard to let that go.

When you are known for your baking - it's hard to see that gone.

When you are known for your humor - it's hard to go through a quiet season.

It seems that right now - everything I've been 'known' for - is gone.

It leaves me feeling a bit lost.

It leaves me feeling.

It leaves me.

This whole business of downsizing - minimizing - it's been quite a journey.

Things are less fabulous.

I don't do a lot of fabulous crafts anymore.

My home is less fabulously decorated.

The gardens aren't 'tour bus' worthy anymore.

There seems to be something in me - or maybe you too - when you like old junk - when flowers feed your very soul - when making home is your passion - there seems to be a propensity to wear yourself flat out.

You work your fool head off to make your life Pinterest worthy.

For what?

I'm going to tell you a little secret that has taken me 52 years to figure out.

fabulous

is 

exhausting.

So here's to a life less fabulous, but more fulfilling.  

Here's to meals that I make that never get photographed and put on a blog. 

Here's to ordinary days filled with extraordinary moments that never get put in a status update.  

Here's to less stuff but more time.

Here's to smaller gardens, better tended.

Here's to more soul time.

Here's to exhaling - and being a human being, instead of a human doing.

Here's to being delightfully average.

And here's to being OK with it.