I recently received an email from a friend who said that with all the recent changes in her life, it feels like she's living someone else's life. That really resonated with me - I, too, feel like I'm guest-starring in someone else's bio-pic.
It's like I'm on vacation at some sort of surreal, hippy, LHK, DIY, farm/lodge/eco-tour/safari - the bed is big, linens luxurious, food is great, there's a huge fireplace in the livingroom and I look out the very large windows at amazing scenery. There are trees. The ocean is right over there. My hair is long. There are deer in my front yard (it's not because I'm enticing them with food). The snow floats down dreamily in enormous fluffy flakes and then melts away two days later. I take daily walks through the forest or by the brook. I shop for chickens, tractor implements and logging products. I've got a great dog. I wear overalls. I've slaughtered a pig, been given a peavy and mended torn pants.
I want to make more clothing, learn to pickle and preserve and put-up food, talk to my chickens and walk through waist-high hay. I want to swim in the August ocean, fish for Morten Brook's brown trout, find the perfect tree for swinging and nap in the late afternoon sun.
I can't tell you if it's homey, harmonious or hale. But I do know this - I'm somehow here and it's somehow now.
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