I feel like I’ve lost the core of my blog, not being in a place where I can have a garden. Without that object of learning to produce food at the center of it all, it’s been hard to write. Not to mention, I feel off balance in my whole life without that central focus. As it’s turned out, though, instead of growing things and practicing what we’ve learned and learning more (our plan A), everywhere we go we find ourselves helping others in small ways to grow food. That’s not so bad. There are a lot of people making moves towards gardens, chickens, compost, and permaculture. It’s wonderful to meet so many along the way.
It has been quite rough, but we’ve made the best of it and things are looking up. Since my husband and I were forced suddenly to live in the U.S., we’ve been roaming the PNW, somewhat frantically finishing up the camper on the fly so we can travel in it, and depending more on the goodwill of friends than we probably ever have had to before. People are wonderful. The strangers who’ve reached past their comfort zone to offer us space to rest for a little while have become friends I value so much that whatever’s been hard about this has been worth it for the unexpected friendships we’ve gained.
The camper is finished to a point of being habitable and non-embarrassing, we are safe, and we are healthy. H.W. still brings me little bunches of wildflowers tied up with grass. We eat the best we can, read, write, sew, work, build, recycle, and ride our bicycles.
“Plans” became a sort of mythical beast, or a particle that pops in and out of probability. Nothing we’ve planned has happened accordingly, and all our schedules and intentions have thoroughly fallen apart. I’ve given up and resigned myself to being like leaves, never knowing ahead of time where we’ll be blown off to, just doggedly working away on what’s at hand. It seems like a desirable thing to do, Buddhist even. Funny, it’s easier to let go of attachment and expectation when your life is ripping it all away from you. When you don’t really have a choice but to surrender, it’s much easier.
But that said, we continue to aim for a place with enough space to build a sustainable model of life and agriculture. The current target is Nova Scotia, but I know enough after this summer to say, Who knows!? It could be anywhere along the trajectory, and maybe where we’re supposed to be will just reveal itself along the route (literal or figurative. Did I have to spell that out?).
I have some posts on deck from the last months that might come wildly out of order now.
Sometimes I’ll write a piece, but then not post it because I haven’t posted the more mundane bits that create the context. So those posts languish until some imaginary future when I’ll “catch up” – we all know how that turns out. Sometimes I do catch up, though. There’s a little batch of catch-up coming right up – a symptom of difficult internet access.
Thank you for following.