by Krista | Jun 17, 2016 | Winter
Yesterday afternoon as thick, black clouds blotted out the sun and made our little world wonderfully dark and still, I sat on the veranda with my Luna girl and just enjoyed it. Grass parrots flitting about in streaks of color, occasional bleats from the newborn goats in the paddock, our three little sheep trotting along from one grassy morsel to the next. In such moments our farm feels like a world unto itself. How I love it.
The last couple of months have been precious to me, ones of healing so deep that I nearly feel giddy from the heady sensation of darkness dispelled and crushing burdens dissolved. I knew my physical ailments were rooted in past trauma, but I had no idea how much until those traumas were addressed, healed, and released, and my pain went with them.
I’ve been on pain killers nearly every day since I got out of the cult fifteen years ago. Now I only need them on rare occasions, usually after a treatment as my body lets go of all the bad stuff. I haven’t had a nightmare in months. I fall asleep quickly, sleep well, and wake up most days without an alarm clock – which is saying something since I get up at 1:50 a.m. for work.
The biggest change has been the connected feeling I have within myself. As a coping mechanism, I learned to disassociate, to disconnect from myself and others, but I don’t need to do that anymore. And bit by bit, like collecting puzzle pieces that were thrown hither and thither by an enthusiastic toddler, I’m being pieced back together again. It’s been the most exquisite reunion, a wondrous sense of wholeness.
I’m deeply grateful for the lovely Bernie Giggins who has done so much to heal this battered heart and body of mine. Her kindness, wisdom, and marvelous sense of humor have seen me through the darkest moments of my life with a sense of security and strength. I’m still working through things, still finding areas that need to be visited and healed, but the progress I’ve made thus far means the world to me and gives me such hope.
That’s why I’ve been so quiet here. It’s been my time to be my own Mama Bear, to look after own soul with all the ferocity and loyalty of a grizzly mother. To fight for quietness and rest so my body can recuperate after each healing session. To protect my time to learn new ways of being, behaving, and connecting that are healthy and loving and good. And to focus on the things that bring me joy: my people, my gardens, animals, and books, my art and going on little adventures.
I haven’t had words until now. Not for my journal, not for my blog, not even to speak, but I’m finding them, and as I string them together, I’ll share them here.
It’s winter here now, but you’d never know it. I’m still picking tomatoes, my pea vines are covered with pods, and we have baby goats leaping about all over the place. It’s marvelous.
Bear and I have been doing all sorts of creative projects: building high backed medieval chairs, sewing a medieval quilt, and wood-burning everything from boxes to wooden clogs. I made a potting shed for my gardens and have been weaving sticks into my garden fences to create an artsy barrier for our goats. I made quince jam and Hungarian sausages, hot pepper jelly and apple wine. It’s been so fun.
One thing I’ve learned through all this is the importance of little adventures, and in the weeks to come I’ll be sharing some of my favorites from the last couple of months.
What is your favorite way to Mama Bear your heart? xo
by Krista | May 11, 2016 | Autumn
I’m taking advantage of a lull in our lovely but chaotic week to have a coffee, a bit of coffee cake, and a new episode of Midsomer Murders. It feels so good to sit awhile and catch my breath, think through my errand list for this afternoon and relax knowing dinner is in the crockpot and will be ready by the time I get home.
Although it’s dark, cloudy, and cold today, we’ve had spectacularly gorgeous days of late, clear blue skies, hot gold sunshine, and delectably cool breezes blowing in from the South.
When I’m not working, I’ve spent as much time as I can outside, gardening for hours and heading to our bush for hikes in the late afternoon.
I head out across the fields, wading through nodding grasses that glisten and dance, past prickly pear strung with spider webs.
I love entering the woods, the flickering dance of shadow and light that is both mesmerizing and invigorating.
Luna runs hither and thither sniffing in hollow logs, bounding eagerly after wallabies and kangaroos that pop up from their hidden napping spots in the grass.
I love how the late sun reveals so many layers of color and texture in the gum trees: papery white, shimmering silver, rust and grey and pale yellow.
We usually have a herd of our neighbors cows roaming our bush, keeping the weeds and grass down as a preventative measure against fire. But they’ve returned to their home in the outback and our bush is quiet again.
My sacred grove is as beautiful as ever, the trees grown taller, branches stretching out to each other across the circle of grass below until they’re nearly touching.
It’s such a lovely place to wander, birds overhead, wildflowers underfoot, leaves glowing lime green in the setting sun. With the sun on my face and the wind in my hair, a deliriously happy dog running up to me for cuddles and pats, well, it’s all rather wonderful.
Where do you like to go for a wander on a gorgeous afternoon? xo
by Krista | May 6, 2016 | Autumn
As we packed up our rain-drenched camp, Bear and I were sore and tired, not looking forward to 3 hours in the car to get home. As we loaded the last few items and tied down the tarp, our friend Adam made our day by inviting us to his place to rest our bones on his squishy couch and have a cold drink or two before heading home. We were delighted to accept.
Adam and Joy live on Bribie Island, a jewel of a spot only a few minutes down the road from where we were camping. We were welcomed with hugs and set down under a fan and served iced tea and it was all so wonderful after such a gong show of a night. We chatted and laughed and looked at Adam’s new sword and before long all the stresses of collapsed tent and soggy gear were gone.
And suddenly we realized we were ravenous.
So off we went to the Bribie Island Surf Club for some lunch. We got a table overlooking the ocean and basked in sea breezes and ice cold ciders. We shared a hot, buttery, garlicky damper (an Aussie style of bread) then tucked into all sorts of good things: towering burgers, salmon and mashed potatoes, chicken Parmesan.
Bear surprised us at the end with a fabulous cheese platter and we tasted and savored our way through until we couldn’t eat another bite.
With our spirits and bodies restored, we got back in the car and Joy took us to the beach.
With hot sun and salty breezes, I couldn’t imagine a better place to unwind.
I could’ve stayed there for hours, perched on a sand dune, mesmerized by crashing waves and swooping birds.
One of my favorite things about Bribie Island is how wild and natural it feels. While there must be some crowded areas, Bear and I have never experienced them. Even on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, there was hardly a soul to be seen. That’s my kind of beach.
We got back in the car, windswept and salt-tinged, happy and peaceful, our good spirits restored. While our medieval camping trip didn’t turn out as we’d hoped, it ended even better than we could’ve planned.
xo
by Krista | May 3, 2016 | Autumn
Sometimes the best laid and dearly loved plans run thoroughly and utterly amok.
This past weekend for example. Bear and I had been working hard for months getting ready for a medieval reenactor’s weekend with swarms of our best loved medieval friends. We were looking forward to it so much. Even when my left hand swelled up black and blue after being kicked repeatedly by a feisty lamb, and my right hand swelled up after being pierced by a stray wire that jammed in there, and Robbie cut open both shins when he ran into a rogue piece of iron, and I pulled a muscle in my foot – we were still so excited and hobbled along and got all packed up and arrived in time to get mostly set up before dark.
All was well…until the rain started falling…and falling…and falling. And bit by bit the dirt turned to mud and the tent pegs popped out and in the middle of the night, after a particularly thunderous torrent, the tent fell down on top of our friends, braining them with tent poles and dousing them with water. We woke to their cries of alarm and stumbled out of our tent to find sheer mayhem. Everything was down, drenched, and streaked in mud. Humph. We stood there in the rain wondering what to do and realized…nothing. Our friends took refuge in their van, we spent a sleepless night wondering how to get the camp back together before acknowledging, nope, we simply couldn’t. The sodden ground wouldn’t hold the pegs and the pegs wouldn’t hold the tents and with another storm on the way we knew we’d just have to pack up and head home.
So we did. And it was sad and disappointing and frustrating, but it was the right call. For the rains returned and didn’t let up until Monday. We would’ve been stuck in sodden misery.
Thankfully we had some lovely moments before we left. Starting with sunrise.
Even after a soggy, sleepless night, the sun rising through the trees, shimmering through wood smoke, glistening on the dewy grass, well, it can’t help but lift your spirits.
And when you get to take a break from folding waterlogged tents, tarps, ropes, rugs, blankets, clothing, etc and sit down at a table with good friends and have homemade medieval fruit cake slathered with butter, the world feels rather wonderful.
And when you add a cup of coffee and some good stories and hearty laughs and commiserations from friends stopping by to moan and groan with us and give us big, squishy hugs, all the rumpled feelings and stresses untangled themselves and we made peace with our mayhem.
We were sad to leave, but thankful for the few hugs and visits we were able to squeeze in before we left, for one meal cooked over the fire – is there anything better than hot stew on a rainy night? – and for the chance to figure out how to make our camp storm/flood proof for next time.
Bear and I have learned that when disappointment hits, the best thing is to feel sad then replace it with something good. So we did. And I’ll tell you all about that next time. xo
by Krista | Apr 26, 2016 | Autumn
It was a jolly and exhausting weekend with our good friends, Sue and Vincent, as we worked hard and played hard in preparation for our first medieval event of the season.
There was new garb to model with whoops and catcalls from cheeky onlookers, menus to plan, and a new tent to set up in the face of fearsome winds that threatened to send Sue and I sailing off over the trees like Mary Poppins as we clung for dear life to tottering tent poles.
We sorted and packed, unpacked and planned, debated and decided, filled out paperwork, and finally collapsed in relieved, happy exhaustion, ready for some ginger wine and fire-roasted dinner as the sun set through the trees.
I lit a fire in our cute little pot-bellied stove and put sausages on to cook. They are the Hungarian sausages I told you about last time, flavored richly with garlic and paprika, salt and black pepper, and they were absolutely beautiful charred and smoky from the campfire.
Sue brought corn on the cob and first we cooked it in the husks, then set it right over the fire to get a wee bit charred. Pure bliss smeared with butter and dusted with salt.
We toasted Turkish bread and poured more wine and finally collapsed into our chairs in the last rays of the setting sun.
With a chink of wine glasses and hearty toasts we dug into our feast and rested our weary bones.
We visited amiably as the sun disappeared and the winds died down, sipped our wine, laughed at funny stories and thought how there aren’t many things better than good food with good friends on a gorgeous night in the country.
This week we’re back to bustling, working hard to finish last minute projects and arrange caretakers for the farm while we’re gone. Bear finished our 12th century bed, I completed my Bedouin garb save for the silk ribbon trim that just arrived in the mail this morning from England. We made linen sheets and pillowcases and hauled medieval gear in to get packed away in wooden boxes for the trip. Today I’m at last starting a medieval quilt for our bed. It’s a lot of work but so much fun. We’re both excited to get to camp and have a good ol’ visit with our friends.
What are you looking forward to this week? xo
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