I decided to write again. I need to write again. For Catalpa and for myself. We are in yet another transition (as we always are, no?) but this one involves moving again, changing homes, towns, states actually. We are moving across the river to Iowa. Right now we are living in three places, I am uprooted and tired, and frankly, not good at this "no home" kind of life. I admire those who are. I can travel, I have traveled for long periods before, but at this point in my life I need dirt, a desk with paint brushes, a clean and ready-to-go for any meal kitchen, and my own bed sheets. I also need two warm, snoring, animals sleeping next to me.
I want to jot these times down, lay them out, so that I can share them with Catalpa later, if there is a time of interest. I also... want to write about the farm, the land, how we got there, what it feels like, the challenges, the frustrations, the growth, and my passion for a simpler kind of living. Something felt, given, and shared. Meals around a table, guests sleeping over, vegetables and eggs distributed and taken home, and days spent playing outside. Days that feel long, full, spent, and overflowing with just enough.
Botna Burrow -- that is what this little place is called to us now. A little less than a dozen acres, a bunch of shabby buildings and two fancier barn structures, nettles, mulberries, box elder bugs, and a little ol' Iowa town full of surprises.
It is December 1st and I am about to bury myself in farm house renovations, along with continual travel. We have about a dollar and a dime, and will be doing whatever we can from scratch. There are holes and walls to patch, kitchen cupboards to mouse proof, old vents to close up, and missing door handles. I pray that I make it through this month, through snow, projects, and farm planning, through holidays, board meetings, two jobs, and farewell Lincoln gatherings. I hate myself when I am this busy. It isn't the way I want things to be, but right now we will buckle down and do it. Next month we will leave the country for awhile, and hopefully there I will reconnect with some kind of rhythm that suits me far better than all this running around. I am nearly a chicken with my head cut off.
On December 20th we will be on our way to completely moved in at the farm, and on December 25th I hope to have the most beautiful, relaxing evening staring at the stars and sipping hot cider after it is all over.
I am glad we made it here. This last year in Lincoln has been something. My heart was pretty broken leaving so many close relationships to move to Lincoln,but I learned a lot about farming, I learned a lot about myself, I watched and learned as Catalpa grew and grew right before my eyes. While feeling distant, I also had the opportunity for some traveling this summer that I am forever thankful for. I got to reconnect (even if for a short while) with very close friends. I said goodbye to a lot of things, and hello to new things -- like watching Catalpa pick raspberries and blackberries and thousands of mulberries, running through prairie grasses together, smelling prairie flowers, and swimming in lakes and rivers. We had one hell of a summer.
We will end this year with a bang, a hurrah, and somehow we will make it through to our new farm, new community, and a whole new year of wanderings.
upward & onward,
c.
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