new outdoors

back porch

the past few days involved loading up a big truck, saying goodbye to a good home, driving nine hours in gusty winds, unloading a big truck, cleaning & unpacking in a new home. they also involved digging new holes, adding good dirt & planting wonderful new plants.

we've planted morning glories to grow up the side of the old chicken coop. also in the ground now are varieties of lavender & salvia which I'd never seen, purple coneflower which I brought from kansas, and some zinnias & snapdragons. I plant things knowing that I'll probably have trial & error in this new landscape of the high desert.

the big back yard

but trial & error is what new chapters & new big steps are all about. we've both been working hard to create this new home for ourselves. and tonight we are planning to enjoy our backyard with some meat & veggies on the grill.

calmer

starting to feel a calm sense & realization of time.
that I just don't have much packing left to worry about.
that my best friend came over yesterday to help "clean" and immediately told me there wasn't actually much to do.
that things are being sorted & given away & finding their places.
that my boyfriend will be here soon to help me on the next part of the journey.
and that turning 40 may not be much of a big deal anyway.

guilt

guilt for not noticing sooner that my Libby was injured.
a bite to the paw, leading to a high fever. and now a wrapped up leg. and daily medicine. and another check up next week.

guilt for not being more sad to be moving away. for being excited to see what moving away means for me.

guilt for leaving my brother & his children.
for putting nine hours between me & my whole family.

guilt for getting rid of things which other people gave me.

guilt for not having time to see everyone.

guilt for wanting to skip all the good-byes anyway.

guilt for my accumulation of stuff.

guilt for all the trash I've created.

guilt for forcing my boyfriend to live with a cat, and for forcing my cat to spend nine hours in a car.

today in the vet's office, as libby lashed out in pain as they tried to clean up her wound. i felt that familiar feeling, that I was about to faint. that I was probably turning green. and I needed to sit down, and just breathe. it is all beginning to hit me now. the whirlwind tornado of emotions.

and I know everything I'm feeling is okay.

and I'm just reminding myself that with every step & worry I just need to remember to breathe.

every sha-la-la-la

my two favorite visitors came over yesterday.
with happy meals & toys in hand, and some stories to tell.
after a walk around the neighborhood, and some porch swing time, it was time to play records.
the six-yr old requested some "lullabies"
and the closest thing I could find was my Carpenters album.
and then my two favorite visitors did some dancing in the sun room.

and I've had "every sha-la-la-la" in my head all morning long.

may day limbo

people who know me well, know well that I do poorly with uncertainty & limbo in my life. I prefer deadlines, time frames and clearly defined expectations.

and though in the past years I've worked hard at allowing myself to just accept that all is uncertain and stressing out about what can't be controlled is fairly useless...but it is a definite reason why I rarely move, and I've never moved away from Kansas.

having my house for sale, planning to move. these are things that are challenging for me, but I know I will feel like a stronger person for doing them. in the meantime, my stomach is generally nauseous and my dreams are restless. and my house is clean.

those that know also understand that in times of great anxiety, I clean & I organize. my house is so very pretty right now.

and though having to leave my home so that complete strangers can walk through it is not something I can get used to. I do like having a reason to cut flowers to decorate my house.

a concrete step

over the years, the corner of my porch steps crumbled away. it got bigger & bigger, and eventually the railing had nothing to bolt onto...and just hung there in thin air.
it bugged me. all of the time. it seemed disgraceful. like it reflected my ability to care for my home. but I figured someone else would have to fix it for me. cause, it was concrete...

and I asked the men in my life, how do we fix it? I was told it would be pretty easy, it would be a small job, probably too small to hire someone to do, a form would have to be built, maybe drill in some rebar, pour the concrete, re-attach the railing. I didn't believe it would be easy enough for me to do without their help.

and I kept getting stuck at "build a form"?

it finally hit me. I was the person who had to fix it. and waiting for someone to have the time to help me was no longer working.

and so I did.

 figured out how to build the form. figured out what tools I'd need. figured out the process.
and it isn't the prettiest.
but it is done. and I think mostly successful.

and it reminds me of all the things I've learned to do & had to do by myself.
get a mortgage.
buy a house.
find a plumber, a heating specialist, an electrician, a chimney sweep.
strip wallpaper.
patch plaster walls.
patch plaster ceilings.
paint all the walls. a few different times.
re-caulk a bathtub.
re-caulk the floor tile.
pay that mortgage each month.

they may seem like little things. but each one was a challenge for me. and I suppose I need to start recognizing that I did them, and I did them well.

I own buckets of tools now that I never thought I would know how to use.

and I'm almost 40 years old. so I'm glad I know I can do this by myself. & I wish I could go back & tell my 20-yr old self that I'd be okay when on my own.
though frankly I'm also so very happy that I'll soon be sharing my challenges with a partner at my side. since damn, I'm almost 40 years old.

and oh, after finishing the step. and starting to clean up & put things away, libby took it upon herself to try out the new step. so all this self-affirmation aside, my favorite part of all of this, libby's paw im-print that greets me when I come home.

waterfall, tornadoes & some snow

with a few afternoon hours left we took a drive up el salto road. the plan was to take a little walk up to a waterfall that occurs only in the Spring.

a smell of pine trees, wet leaves & cool air. and then, from over the top of a large mountain cave, the water falling.

drove back knowing it was near time to check the radar. worried about all the storms predicted to hit my kansas home. as we drove into town, it started to snow.
& all I could really think about were the dark stormy clouds that may be rolling over harvey county.

got home & after watching the weather. and holding our breath. and then calling home. and then exhaling. we went outside to enjoy the snow before dark.

and I realized that moving from home doesn't mean I'll ever stop worrying about tornadoes. and thank goodness my kansas-raised boyfriend can understand.

big & little things

the gorge in which flows the Rio Grande. you drive along flat desert & then there it is, this amazing natural split in the earth.

getting struck down by a cold that makes it hard to breathe or get out of bed. and having someone right near by to keep making you hot tea and do all the dishes.

and continuing to find that no matter what I take with me, or what I leave behind, my home is in two places now. (though I really think wind chimes help make a home comfortable & relaxing, so i'll be working with my new mexican on that one.)

easter morning in taos

first the easter egg hunt, for the 6-yr old who is visiting.

and soon a walk along the Rio Grande Gorge, since we think enjoying an incredible view of natural may be a proper way to celebrate the morning.

yard sale

yard sale.
a month of collecting things to sell, a morning in which they are all sold.

surprisingly easy to see so many things which have been a part of my home for years, just leave in other people's hands. I guess I'm learning to separate the important from the just-like-a-lot.
and, fortunately, some of the things left in the hands of friends. 

and at the end of the day, it was just one load of stuff to goodwill.
...which is the place where I'd actually bought some of the stuff.

the more I'm getting closer to moving my stuff from this house to a house in new mexico, the more I'm surprised that I'm not more anxious than I am.

it was a good saturday. and I couldn't have done it without my two friends who sold, organized, laughed and drank cocktails right along with me. 

...noticed this morning that the faded petals of my tulips have all blown away, but the spirea is starting to bloom its fluffy white flowers.

spring weekend

the wheat & the sky.

the barn which stubbornly still stands.

some of my tulips. i'd forgotten all the colors which i'd planted.

peaceful & warm sunday afternoon sunshine.

the now four-year old

turning four meant a cinderella carriage, new dresses, handmade aprons & bags, a blanket for your baby dolls, sparkly markers & glitter everywhere. and a lot of other things. all opened in an excited frenzy from a long day of anticipation.

it also meant being able to sit on the table to blow out candles & cut your own cake.

my daffodils are starting to bloom.
my windows are open to the warm air & sounds of a lawn mower.
I wore flip-flops all day.
all very nice, except it is St. Patrick's Day, and it should still be colder.
not complaining,  just a little worried about what it all means for the upcoming summer.

and the kitten has found a new favorite spot for her lazy moments.

yep, there's a picture of my cute cat.

last year I was sitting in an "Irish" pub in Berlin, ordering Jamison in German. well, I wasn't actually the one doing the ordering,  just some of the drinking.

berlin last year

a year ago I'd landed in Berlin. getting ready to do & see so many new things. while not understanding any of the languages I heard around me.

thankfully I had a boyfriend, and two good friends (& their three children) to navigate it all with me.
it was a good trip.

in the midst

in the midst of signs of spring & preparing for changes ahead.
keep reminding myself to pause.
breathe.

once I begin a project, I'm always focused on getting it done as soon as I can.
sometimes causing anxiety & rushing.
over the past few years I've learned to calmly remind myself, I can't control the outcome. I can only do my best in the moment.

and pause to enjoy the green tips of daffodils & tulips popping out of the ground. and the sunshine that pours into my kitchen in the morning.

snowy date

a good drink in a cozy bar.
a disappointing dinner in a favorite restaurant.
laughing at ourselves. & how we're okay if some things never change.
and the snow fell all night.

we decided next year, to skip the restaurant and all of those valentine's expectations.
but still plan to go out for a good drink.

sunday morning snowy walk

woke up too early for a sunday. and then the altitude got in the way of successful breakfast baking.
but we saved the morning by taking a walk in the new snow.

explored little streets and hidden courtyards which I had not yet seen.

walked through the city cemetery and found one of its famous residents, her tombstone decorated by plastic, red roses beautifully peeking out from the snow.

I do love how the landscape of brown adobe is so often interrupted by colors brightened by the snow.

and I learned last night that when you are ordering a burger that comes with a side of "corn chips" that in Taos, that means "tortilla chips" & not the fritos you began to crazy crave after you thought you'd ordered them.

morning sun

baking bread at 7,000 ft isn't as easy as at 1,500 ft. my first attempt only half successful. but am determined to figure it out.

the morning sunshine is mighty today.

drinking coffee slowly.
thinking about friends, family & changes.

eventually, a walk to the plaza to look at yarn. or used books.

afternoon drive

today we took a drive, to see some country around taos.
and our road led us to a hot springs, which meant stopping for a good soak.

getting to the springs meant a rocky walk down into the gorge.
nature seemed settled & quiet into winter silence.

my heart keeps leading me back to this place.
I never intended to live anywhere but my kansas plains.
and now, when I consider the future, and how it might mean living here with the wide, open desert always nearby, and these old, sloping mountains always in view, it seems like a chapter I wasn't expecting but maybe needed to find.

the challenge would be in feeling so far away from home, while also being someplace I would be calling home.

starting february

the kitten didn't help too much with packing.

the sign that the train is now in new mexico.

with a generous christmas gift from the folks, I had booked a sleeper car for this trip. which feels luxurious when you've become used to trying to sleep in a reclining chair in coach along with 30 other people. so I was able to watch the scenery roll by, while in bed with cozy, quiet solitude.

trees blackened but still standing, from last summer's fire.

and this is the landscape that tells me i'm closer to taos than I am to newton.

and new mexico greeted me at the train station with freshly brewing pressed coffee.
which is one of the ways I know that I am loved.