May 11 - June 24, 2017: TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES!!!

Dear Maine,

I know I have been silent for quite a while, but it's due to technical difficulties. First, there's the whole no electricity/no internet thing. But the bigger issue is that when I DO have electricity and internet, I can't upload photos. I get frustrated, then I give up. So there's that.

So, if anyone can help me figure out how to actually insert photos rather than links to photos into my blog, please let me know.

Until next time...

Tamarra

May 5 - 10, 2017: Settling In...and My First Real Week Off-Grid.

May 5th

Dear Maine,

Happy Cinco de Mayo! And happy first real day for me in Maine!

It was awesome last summer, but it’s different now, because we are really here, on our land, and it’s for good. It’s been a long process, but we finally made it. Winter was rough. We are very fortunate to have wonderful friends who took us in and gave us everything we needed over winter, but when you know where your heart is and your body’s not there with it, it’s not easy. I did not enjoy being in an urban environment one bit, despite how much I loved being with friends, family and my yoga community.

First on today’s agenda was unpacking the truck. It really didn’t take that long at all. We made a few piles: things that go in the house immediately, things that can go under the eave of the woodshed (things that are weatherproof), and things that get stored in the carport. While we were unpacking, Brian came to see how we are settling in. He is such a kind, wonderful man. We are blessed to have him as our neighbor and friend.

We started early, because with no sense of time (clocks really make no difference here, so we don’t bother with them), we wake up when the sun does, and with no electricity, we go to bed when the sun does. These are making for some long nights right now, but as the days grow longer, we will grow more active. At any rate, we had the truck unpacked by about 10:00 a.m., which left plenty of time to get it swept out and the furniture pads neatly folded and stacked (not doing so will cost a $25 service fee!). There was already a couple things to take to the Salvation Army, so we dropped those off on our way to return the truck, which we had back a full thirty-six hours before it was due - and fully refueled! After dropping the truck off we did the thing I was soooo excited about doing: we picked up our trees from Fedco in Clinton! I was so happy to get them! I even hugged them once we got home. I got a Northern Spy apple, a Golden Russet apple, an Illinois Everlasting mulberry, an elderberry, a witch hazel, a high bush cranberry, some arnica and some wintergreen. (Guess who isn’t going to mind being effed over by Trumpcare because she can take care of herself…) I also picked up a rhubarb crown and some asparagus, as well as several varieties of seeds, which is jumpstarting our planting operation. Nate is now going to build a tiny greenhouse so I can get them started. I also picked up some compost and some germinating soil, so I’m all set to go as soon as we have a greenhouse!

We were a little too cold and tired to plant them at that time, so we tucked them in for the night, and I did a little more unpacking as we scrambled together a camp-style dinner (since there’s really no horizontal surface for any kind of food prep) and tucked ourselves in for a second night of sleeping in the container. It was a little chilly last night, but tonight should be warmer. The air mattress is good as long as we are both on it; if one of us gets up, the other hits bottom. The cats don’t know quite what to think of it. Mittens, as always, embraces everything with novelty and curiosity, while Willow sulks and hides until she has made a full assessment of every situation. The shipping container is no different. 

But here we are for one more — and hopefully our last — night. 

It’s great to be here, no matter where I’m sleeping.

May 6th

Dear Maine,

I woke up cranky today, feeling completely cold and overwhelmed with the magnitude of stupid possessions I need to go through. I feel kind of like this.

No, I feel EXACTLY like that little snippet from “Fight Club” (such a timely read) as I begin the process of winnowing out possessions from a life I no longer have — or want. It’s daunting, because I need to make space in the house for us to live and work. I will manage. Somehow. Sign.

Plus sleeping on this air mattress has been murder on my shoulders. 

So my first priority, after eating an entirely insufficient breakfast, was to get the bed sleepable.

Let’s talk about breakfast first, though. Breakfast is my most important meal of the day, and I never get bored of eating the same thing. I normally eat bacon, two scrambled eggs with nutritional yeast, gelatin, collagen and hot sauce, hot water with apple cider vinegar and honey, yogurt and possibly fruit, if there is any. For the last two days I’ve been eating Kind bars and the occasional apple for breakfast. Insufficient. And part of the reason for my crankiness. I need my good breakfasts back ASAP!

As intended, I got the bed sleepable, and with all the layers, starting with fleece sheets, which, if you haven’t tried them, are an absolute must in any cold climate, followed by one of those super soft fuzzy blankets, a down comforter in a thick velour cover, and finally, a heavy crocheted afghan. It looks mighty fine. Can’t wait to try it out.

So, our things were stored in a barn for the last year, where they were totally protected from the weather, but not entirely protected from the mice. I kept finding bits of fiberglass insulation and some sort of yellow stuffing all over the place, and I ultimately found the nest they made in my grapevine wreath, but I still haven’t found the source of the yellow stuffing. Thankfully, it was NOT the bed, the couch or the loveseat, which were the only things that really mattered. Must be some sort of cushion or other. But at any rate, important things were wrapped in plastic, thankfully, but from all the rodent climbing and nest-making, all that plastic is covered in mouse poop and mouse piss.  So Goal No. 1 was to remove all mouse-piss covered plastic from everything. It did its job; none of our stuff was ruined by the mice (unless you count a few rogue feathers and rope they chewed off of stuff).

Once the stinky plastic was all off, I was motivated to turn the loft into a somewhat more manageable place with access to our clothes so that we could change out of the clothes we’ve pretty much been wearing since Wednesday.

Let’s talk about that. People change and wash clothes waaayyyy more often than necessary. When we eat clean, it’s cool out, and we’re not really breaking a sweat, we really don’t smell, so our clothes really don’t get soiled, unless we’re working in the soil or something. So, yeah, aside from my underwear, I haven’t changed my clothes since Wednesday. Haven’t showered either, and I feel and smell fine. It’s a new way of life out here, and warm running water is not immediately accessible, so cleaning is an entirely different matter. I have, however, been washing my face and brushing my teeth, so those shouldn’t be falling out or anything.

It was a super rainy morning, and around noon, I decided I wanted to go into town (and by town, I mean our small library and general store about five miles away) to check out the library and use the internet so I could write to you.

I forgot, however, that this is small town Maine, and any ideas I had about being “productive” were quickly crushed as soon as I sat down at the table and started my “work”. You see, Maine people are the BEST people (which is a large part of why we want to be here). When I first sat down, there was only the one guy (who I later learned to be Paul) on his computer. He was wearing headphones, so I figured he was serious about whatever he was doing. Plus I’m used to New York where people just aren't that friendly. So we worked in silence for a little bit, and then Bob came in and everything changed! Bob noticed a picture of our house that I had up on my screen and immediately started asking about it. This turned into a wonderful two-and-a-half hour conversation that even involved Paul from time to time, as well as Bob’s wife, Brenda, who is the librarian. I loved it! I learned about Bob and Brenda’s beginnings in the area (which aren’t entirely unlike our own), and I learned about the things that are keeping them occupied now (their home burned down a couple years ago, so a lot of their energy has been directed there, and they have seven grandchildren who live right next door as well.)

And this is how Maine people are. Bob offered plenty of advice and even the use of his generator if we need it. Bob (and Paul and Brenda… and Scott, who came in right as the library was closing and joined the discussion for a few minutes) is a warm, kind, sincere man, who really made me feel welcome to the community. We are fortunate.

I love it when my heart is filled with so much gratitude that it feels like it just might burst.

And I know with absolute certainty that this is where I belong.

Anyway, my letter that day didn’t end up being as long as I originally thought it might, because talking with Bob was so enjoyable that I knew letters could wait.

After the library, I grabbed a couple things at the general store and headed home. I chuckled to myself as I noticed a thought I had while I was driving down our not-yet-graded-after-mud-season dirt road: “Well, there are a couple of spots that aren’t too horrible…” Ah, the power of positive thinking… It is what it is. Our dirt road has been wonderfully maintained every time we’ve been up here, but we haven’t seen it before its spring grading, and it’s a big ol’ mess of potholes! It’s kind of fun, actually, seeing if I can pick the most efficient path through the minefield. It’s only a mile till it turns paved, and even that’s not so bad at 15 mph. What’s the rush anyway?

When I got back home (yes, home), the rain had let up, so Nate and I decided to at least get the apple trees in. 

She may not look like much now, but I think she’s beautiful. This is my Northern Spy, which is my favorite apple of all time. I can’t wait to taste her first ones… in about 2032!

That was all we had the energy for today, really, because this cold, damp, rainy thing (which can end at any time now, by the way, Maine) is strangely tiring. Or maybe I’m still catching up on sleep after running myself ragged those last couple weeks in New York.  

We noticed a pair of killdeer earlier. I love killdeer. They’re so interesting! First, they have that really cool “kill-deer! kill-deer!” call, and second, they do the broken wing dance if you get too close to their nest. We knew there had to be a nest not too far away, because they kept acting injured and leading us away from a particular spot. We, of course, didn’t want to accidentally step on it, knowing that killdeer nests are barely nests at all.

Well, we found it, and we marked it with a flag so we wouldn’t accidentally step on it if we got too close. It’s amazing how well-camouflaged those birds are! Can you even see her?

This should make it easier. She’s doing her dance to lead me away from the nest, and to do so, she spreads her tailfeathers, which are a fairly bright orange.

After we were done playing with the killdeer, we got the rest of the orchard in. It may not look like much right now, but this is going to be awesome. Heck, it already is.

And that pretty well rounded out our Saturday evening. I’m very much looking forward to a good night’s sleep…. in bed!!

May 7th

Dear Maine,

It’s Sunday. Feels like we should rest, but there’s so much to do!  Instead, we just took it relatively easy.  I made a lot more progress on the house (in terms of getting stuff put away). I also made more progress on the book I’m reading.

Days of the week really don’t matter much up here.

We got the rest of the plants in (the wintergreen and the black cohosh) for now, and then we explored the trails Nate has been making along the perimeter of the property. They’re great… except for the damned ticks!  I’m thinking more and more seriously about getting guinea fowl.

I’m thinking more and more seriously about so many things… Sometimes the magnitude and velocity of my mere thoughts is overwhelming.

I didn’t even leave the homestead at all today.

That was wonderful.

May 8th

Dear Maine,

More of the same. The days are really starting to blend together. I finished my work on the house today, so it’s entirely livable now. There’s still way too much stuff, but it’s at least organized in a fashion in which we can work with it. I ventured to the general store to get some veggies (bagged salad counts!), but that’s about it.

This really is the way life should be.

May 9th

Dear Maine,

It should be fairly obvious that I’m really writing about the past five days today. It’s amazing to me how quickly all the time has just blended together, with no moment being particularly remarkable, but with all of them being incredibly remarkable. There is so much time for reflection. 

And that may be part of the problem.

I’ve been designing a college course I would like to teach. That’s a new idea I’ve never had before. And more importantly, I’m doing less, and being more. And just… listening. 

First, here’s the mundane stuff. Because I know everyone is curious… 

This is what it’s like inside. Pay no mind to the excessive amounts of unnecessary human possessions in these photos.

Here’s our loft:

I’m amped about the loveseat (reading nook!!!), and we plan to put a casement window over the bed, so it won’t always be this dark (and let me tell you, at night, it’s dark). Where all the stuff is stored along the sides next to the knee walls will eventually become closed-in storage in the form of closets and built in drawers. The bed will also be built up onto a platform that has drawers for storage as well.

Next, we have the living room, with the French doors.

Then we have the kitchen.

And finally, we have the only two actually closed off interior rooms: the bathroom (shower and vanity) and the WC (So European! This is where the toilet, letterboxes and utility room will be.) The bathroom is in the corner, and the WC is nearer the stairs. The dining table fits perfectly next to the WC and the stairs, and is right in front of the French doors for an awesome view.

I really do marvel at how quickly I’ve forgotten even the past two days. So let me tell you about today, and what’s become a “typical” day.

Last night was COLD. I mean COLD. Cold enough for me to sleep with the computer in the bed so it wouldn’t get too cold and cold enough for my iPad (easiest way to read without internet or lights!) to have condensation on the screen that I would swipe when turning pages.

We typically wake up when we wake up. Which usually means somewhere around 6 am, but we don’t really know because we don’t turn our phones on until our morning routine is complete. And, of course, we don’t have any clocks.  Then Nate gets up and goes to the container and starts the wood stove, while I stay with the cats and do my morning meditation. Then I join him in the container where we do our morning yoga and other exercises. Then we head back to the house for breakfast (which, I hope will soon consist of bacon and eggs again!!). After that, we start our day.

Today we went into Bangor for a couple things. First, we dropped off another Salvation Army load (which included the bathroom scale, becasue that seems stupid anymore), then we went to Hannaford for some groceries, then we took the longest trip to Lowe’s… we got most of the stuff that we need to rough in the electrical and for Nate to start working on the greenhouse. I can’t wait to get those seeds started.

I LOVE how everything here is just happening organically. Like the greenhouse. It wasn’t planned, but then I bought the seeds. And the garden. I was looking at the spot Nate had staked off, and I asked out loud, “Is this a good place for a garden?” And I heard a voice say, “A medicine wheel goes here.” And I asked, “Can it be both?” The answer was, “It can.” Now, I’ve only ever even heard of a medicine wheel and don’t even really know what one is, but I know I need to make one. So I ordered the book about it today.

But that’s how things are occurring… exactly as they are meant to.

And I love that this afternoon, I decided to write to you (which I should probably do every day since so much is happening), so I just came down to the container where it’s warm and started writing, which, now that I’m done with the horrible practice of law, I am actually enjoying again. 

On my way down, I decided to check in on the killdeer and see if I could get a better picture. This time, I got pretty close, but she (or he) eventually blew the whistle and vacated the nest. I wanted a picture of the nest anyway…. and this time there were four eggs!

And at one point, I decided I wanted tea, so I made tea. I was walking across the clearing carrying my tea, with it not being blistering cold (for once) and the tiny sliver of sun actually casting my shadow, and I realized that, yes, this IS the way life should be. How much of our time do we waste on things that don’t really mean anything anyway? That serve not ourselves nor the common good, but only serve the machine.

I’d better stop before I become philosophical.

But there are certainly worse things than this.

May 10th

Dear Maine,

Today I kind of went back on grid to an extent. I took advantage of Brian's generous offer to use his laundry and shower while he is away for a couple days. I also washed the dishes in a real sink with real hot water. Nate and I have very different definitions of "clean"...

I don't really quite know what to do with myself all clean.

When I got back, all I did was lie on the couch and read my Nat Geo. It's the first time I've lain on a couch in over and year, and it was wonderful. I've been compiling my to-do lists and just generally existing today. My computer is running slowly, so I need to take it in to have an expert figure it out (I'm not a computer person, and frankly, even though technology is "convenient", I get very frustrated with it and on the whole find it to be more trouble than it's worth. But, it is what it is, and it's how I stay connected to the larger world, for better or for worse.

I prefer off the grid to on. Surprisingly, I'm fine with the not showering thing, and I'm more than fine with the pooping in a bucket thing, but what I do find hard to live without is refrigeration. That has climbed higher up on the list of priorities.

This computer is too uncooperative to continue for now. 

Until next time...

May the Fourth Be With You :)

Dear Maine,

Know how I know you have a sense of humor and this is totally the right move for me? Because while I was heading north on I-95, I passed one of those temporary light-up highway signs, and instead of saying, “CAUTION. SLOW DOWN.” or some other inane directive, it said,

MAY THE

FOURTH BE

WITH YOU.

That was awesome! Wish I had a picture of it, but I would never take pictures while driving.

Anyway, Nate and I were able to get up early and put the last load of laundry in while we had a leisurely breakfast at the Pantheon, which will always hold a special place in our hearts as the site of our very first date - a seven hour breakfast. We typically keep breakfast to under half an hour these days.

We got back, took our last showers for who knows how long, finished up the laundry, packed the final items into the moving truck and my car, got the serenading cats situated in the vehicle, and took off. Here’s Nate with our 17-foot U-Haul.

We hit the road (and possibly a “no parking” sign, but that can neither be confirmed nor denied) around 8:40 a.m. and I had to get gas pretty quickly. This was good, because I also had to cover Mittens up so she would stop singing and reaching out through her carrier and trying to grab everything. It was also good because I really needed to grab our portable speaker, as the stereo went out on me. It has a detachable face plate, so it does that sometimes, but this time I couldn’t get it to come back on, so I decided that it’s time to replace it, because I hate crap that doesn’t work or that needs to be fussed with in a particular way in order to work. So that’s a new item on my to-do list. The drive was really uneventful. We stopped in Massachusetts for gas and lunch, then again in New Hampshire for a quick stretch, then not again until we got off I-95 for good. 

I snapped this one real quick, since this was my view for about ten hours. But if you look closely to the right of the U-Haul, you’ll see the ever-important state line marker letting us know that we are finally home. It’s strange. Being from Pennsylvania, I always get a feeling of being home whenever I cross into the Commonwealth, and that makes sense. But I feel it even more strongly every time I cross into Maine. This is where I belong.

And around six-something p.m., we arrived at our final destination: home (be it ever so humble). This is my foot hitting Maine soil for the first time in six months or so. It feels good to be back.

No time for much this evening. Just a quick tour of the place, then a very minor unpacking, then getting tucked into the shipping container for bed. It would be nice to spend our first night in our house, but not yet. It’s going to be too cold tonight, and the container is nicely decked out with a wood stove, though I am less than amped about the air mattress…

So, tomorrow is my official first day back. Tonight doesn’t count, since it’s practically just for sleeping. Kind of like you don’t get to count it as having visited a state if the only thing you’ve done is pass through an airport there.

I’m looking forward to a new beginning!

April 17 - May 3, 2017: How Does Time Move Too Slowly and Too Quickly All at Once?

Dear Maine,

What have I done? I have a mere two weeks left, and I have scheduled myself way too tightly. I have left myself scarcely a free moment between now and go time.  I've been busy packing, working on a few things, and spending as much time at the yoga studio as I possibly can between now and departure time.

But it's okay. I can sleep once I get back to you.

I mean, you already know what's going on up there, more than I do, but here's what's been happening. This thing is starting to look like a real house!

For starters, it has a real door now, rather than an opening with a sheet of plastic over it.

And Nate has been getting creative with the stairs. I really like the cedar post. 

We will have plenty of amphibious neighbors. Nate says they make quite a ruckus. Well, not the ones in this photo, but the ones who made the ones in the photo.

Nate's work hasn't been just on the house; he's been clearing paths as well. 

That's an awesome path. And I hope we can get more paths to look like that, because apparently ticks are a problem already. 

Nate's dad and brother went up for the weekend of April 28-30, and together they worked on the roof. It started with these vertical rafters (I was going to call them "purlins" but was corrected by google when I went to look up the spelling of "purlin"), which are there just to create space for any water that manages to get under the roof to flow out. They support the purlins, which are the horizontal supports. It's good that these basically make a ladder which makes going higher easier.

Here's the south side all ready for the metal roofing. I don't want to know what it took for Nate to do that all the way up there, because I love him, so I just assume that he was hanging from wings of angels...

Next step: metal roof. It's starting to look like a real house!

That's what they did on their first day up there; the second day became too windy to finish the other side of the roof, so they installed the French doors, which look awesome. Nate said it wasn't easy, so it was good that his dad was there, because his dad is an engineer and is really good at that sort of thing. Not that Nate isn't, but Greg kind of takes it to the next level...

On their last day, they were able to get the rest of the roof on. So now it is complete enough for two humans and two cats to live in it.

Two humans and two cats will be living in it shortly. Nate came back with his dad and brother on May 1. We picked up the U-Haul on May 2, and thanks to my excellent Tetris skills, it was pretty much (and expertly) packed with all the stuff from our storage in Nate's brother's barn within about six hours, which left a little time to get the rest of the things from the house boxed up and packed. There wasn't much left to do on May 3 besides make a run to the dump and another to the Salvation Army, do a little clean up around the house we are leaving behind, and then join Nate's family for a little send off dinner. And tomorrow we leave! See you soon!!

April 10-16, 2017: Turns Out I Don't Have to Be There (But I Want to Be)

Dear Maine,

Look at me keeping my word and doing my weekly update to you!

Nate left last Monday and headed up to the land. I'm jealous, but I'm also not ready to live quite so rustically just yet. I want a few more bubble baths first (in the toxic chlorinated city water... maybe not).

Mud season seems to be fully underway. Nate says that the part of driveway we were able to upgrade to gravel is doing just fine, but the upper part which is just dirt is kind of a mess. He says my car won't make it (and I believe him). I also learned that our road is actually posted to trucks during mud season, so we can't get anything delivered until things dry out. Nate says that's starting to happen.

Our "pond" is a pond again, at least for right now. There are still a few tiny patches of snow around, but this is about as full as it's going to get for right now. We will keep an eye on it over the summer and see what it does.

We are all set to bathe! This will be our catch basin for our rudimentary sponge baths until we can get some sort of gravity fed shower set up. I can't wait for it to get warm enough to shower outside! We can put the water in a dark container and take hot gravity-fed showers! In the meantime, this will be good. This is where our actual shower will ultimately be, and the drain is the real drain.

Our first "crops" have sprouted! Nate planted a few garlic cloves last fall, and he says seven of them are up. So if nothing else, we will be able to ward off vampires.

And Nate has been very busy! He framed out our two interior walls (I love the open floor plan), and he built the stairs. They look amazing! I plan to build drawers into the bottom few steps, and I will create bookshelves under the upper flight and a little desk to create a writing nook. These are the things that excite me, even though I know that things like windows and insulation are more important. We'll get there. I do, however, like what I see. I can't wait to see it in person!

Nate hasn't just been working inside, either. He's put an extension on the woodshed roof so that we can add another row of pallets and stack more wood. It just occurred to me that when the woodshed is full of wood, I won't be able to hang out in there anymore. I'm going to need a Plan B.

And Bill is still around! Nate said he was right there, and somehow Bill managed to sneak by. Seems he doesn't have much appreciation for PBR spray foam art, although he has a healthy curiosity.

And just to give you an idea, this is how close the "art" was to the house when Bill checked it out. I have a feeling that one of these days, I'm going to turn around and walk smack into the moose. I hope he takes it well.

It's fun to know what's going on up there, but I'm ready to stop being a spectator and get into the action. The moving truck has been scheduled for May 2nd. I will be back where I belong in no time! In the meantime, there's plenty of good stuff going on here to keep me more than busy. Just sixteen more days!

November 12, 2016 - April 9, 2017: Winter Has Come...and So Has Spring.

Dear Maine,

Today is April 9, 2017. It's been months since I've seen you, but there are only a few weeks left until I see you again. And this time, it's for good.

Winter is always about "re" words... rest, restore, repose, rejuvenate, reflect... and in some ways, return.

I arrived the day before my doctor's appointment with the hand surgeon. I'm pleased that despite his title, surgery is not what he recommends. I don't have carpal tunnel; I have thoracic outlet syndrome. It's basically a compression of the nerves and blood vessels that flow to my arms through the gap between my clavicle and my first rib. Our first (and thankfully only) line of attack has been physical therapy. After two months of PT twice a week and one month at once weekly, I seem to be much better. It was scary for a long time, but now I know what the problem is, and I know how to prevent it (I'm still doing my stretches). Turns out that yoga heals.

On November 3rd, Nate sent me this picture:



He's been hard at work since I left. He's gotten everything sheathed and taped (obviously), and by some miracle, he managed to get the tarps on the roof by himself.

We've been speaking daily, and whatever shifted between us on Halloween seems to be permanent. We seem to be missing each other (although I think we are both very grateful for time to ourselves; I know I am) and appreciating each other more. He's been balancing time on the land with time to rest on the farm. He took care of things while Beth and Dennis went out of town for a few days. He's gotten the shipping container more habitable, and he's installed the wood stove in there. He says he cooked himself out a couple times. But before he got that far, it was way too cold for him to stay in there, so he took Brian up on his gracious offer and stayed with him and his son Adam for a couple nights.

The last picture I've seen of the place is this one:

I'm glad Nate put the lath on the tarp, because I know how the wind can be up there. Fortunately, Brian has been keeping an eye on the place, and he called us in the end of March to let us know that all is well.

Nate came back to Binghamton on November 12th. We were pretty tumultuous over the summer (and before that, sometimes), but I'm pleased that whatever shifted lasted not just through our nearly two weeks apart, but seems to have made itself permanent. We seem to have new levels of respect and appreciation for each other. I had had my doubts, but those have been put to rest.

I've been evolving, too. As much as I didn't want to come back to Broome County, I completely understand the necessity of it, not just financially and practically, but emotionally and spiritually. I was able to jump right back in to the good things I left behind. Ron and Linda had several yoga classes that needed covering right away, so I taught my first class (with a lot of mistakes! [but so what?]) just two days after I got back, and they've been able to make good use of me at the yoga studio, particularly on teacher training weekends. I had been thinking that I can't go back there, because sometimes there's no "there" to go back to. But I've learned my lesson: sometimes the "there" is right there where I left it. This is kind of a first for me: to know that I belong and that I can trust that there are people out there who love me and support me and always have my back.

My yoga family aren't the only ones. Kristen and Jason, who really are the best friends anyone can have, and I am so lucky that they are mine, have given Nate, me and the cats a place to stay as long as we need it. They've also given me plenty of support and companionship and ways to occupy my time with interior painting, which is just like meditation to me.

If I needed any further proof that everything is working out exactly as it's meant to, I've had it. Every time I've needed an opportunity, it has presented itself. Every time I've encountered an obstacle, I've been able to work around it...or with it.

The Universe is unfolding exactly as it's meant to.

This return trip has also been very much about healing. I've remembered the healing power of yoga, without which my TOS would not have healed so quickly. Even my physical therapist asked me what I'd been doing to progress so quickly, because it seems that it usually doesn't go quite so quickly. Not that there haven't been ups and downs, but as of the end of January, I was released from PT for that, with full grip strength, full range of motion and full sensation in both arms and hands.

Unfortunately, I've developed tendinitis and bursitis in both shoulders, probably a bit of a leftover from the summer and all the yoga, so now I'm doing PT once a week for that. I had x-rays and MRIs and nothing is seriously wrong, thankfully, and I'm seeing forward progress with my shoulder instability.  I naturally have hypermobile joints that hyperextend, and a lot of intense yoga can exacerbate those conditions. So I've been focusing on strengthening and stretching my muscles to make my joints more stable. I will be back to normal before I head back north in a month.

I've had fun here; I've spent time with my yoga community, with my friends, with my family and Nate's family (who really are my family, too, after three years); and Nate and I took a trip to Florida to see my mom. We stopped and saw Hillary in Tennessee on the way down and Nate's friend John in Vriginia on the way back.

I've been able to dispel a lot of residual negativity from the stresses of the summer (and before that as well, I'm sure). I've been meditating daily; in fact, I haven't missed a day since getting back here. Meditation is now a part of my daily life, and I plan to keep it that way. I've also realized that I must never, ever stop doing yoga again. I need to practice at least four times a week, if not more. I need yoga as much as I need fresh air, clean water and healthy food.

And I've learned so much about myself by really turning within, slowing down and detaching from all the trappings of the outside world. I got too hung up on the news and on Facebook, so I gave them up for Lent. Our government is a colossal clusterfuck and the Head Oompah-Loompah is destroying the very fabric of our nation at every turn, but since I'm not bombarded with any information about this on a daily basis, I'm no longer reminded that I can't do a damn thing about it anyway except just live my life, so instead I'm just living my life. I'm not sure I will go back to the news or to Facebook. (Probably not, since without them I'm not constantly on the brink of a data overage, and I have much more free time to spend doing things that really matter.) I really don't see a problem with ignorance in this regard. If I can't do anything to change it, then why do I need to experience the outrage? Short answer: I don't.

Being back in a metropolitan area and in society have reminded me how much I hate cities and how much of an introvert I truly am. I see excess, stress and negativity all around me, and I find myself striving to simplify, to uncomplicate things, to want and to need less and to simply live. I feel more authentic and more free. I care a lot less about a lot of things and a lot more about others. I feel like I've finally got my priorities in order.  There are more things I need to offload, but some of those have to wait until I get back to Maine. I need the right time and the right space to clean up the rest of the messes.

I've also been comfortable revisiting the past and healing old wounds for the first time. I've reconnected with some friends from high school, and we had a really fun reunion a couple weeks ago.

I've been able to do 40 Days to Personal Revolution again with the studio. Technically, this is 240 Days to Personal Revolution since this is my sixth time, and everything about it is different this time. I'm giving myself permission to take care of myself and to appreciate the value of the things that really matter and just throw away the rest. I no longer have any urge to run when things get tough (physically or mentally); instead I recognize the value of just staying and relaxing with what is, and so I stay.

It's not ever that we need to be more or have more or add things; rather, we need simply to strip away the layers and allow ourselves to be in our natural state. I think the thing that surprises me the most is how calm I am most of the time. To be sure, I still have some vivid Ally McBealesque fantasies whenever I encounter an exceptional showing of assholery, but really, 95% of the time, I am calm, centered and present. I never used to be like this. But this is how I am now. I'm not going back to the old way.

And even now, all things are falling into place for our return. I know without a doubt that this is the right move for me. I know that my heart is in Maine, because it's the place I dream of when I sleep and when I daydream, and it's the place I want to be when I fall asleep at night and when I wake up in the morning. It's where I belong.

My thoughts about what direction I want to take things once I get up there keep spinning. I'm not sure about a lot of things yet, but I see little point in planning obsessively for the future when there are too many unknowns and the only thing I can control is what's right here and now. So that's what I'm working on: healing, cleaning up the messes and setting intentions (which is not the same as planning!).

I will miss a few things here, of course: family, friends, and above all, my yoga community (who are my family and friends). I know that I have one calling: as far as I can tell, a community like the one Ron and Linda have created here doesn't exist in my little corner of Maine. I remind myself that one didn't exist here either until Ron and Linda created it. I remind myself that I didn't know anyone here when I moved here in 2006 either, and all the wonderful, beautiful relationships and experiences I've had came to me through my own creation in collaboration with the Universe. What is clear is that my part of Maine needs and is ripe for a community like we have here, and it is my job to create it. I'm not sure exactly what that looks like right now, but I will. I will know when it's right, and I will make it happen. That is certain.  And I have goals for our land and the things we will do and produce. They're nascent, so I'm just letting them swim around in my head for now. The time will come to put the intention into the space and then allow it to manifest.

I'm done forcing. I'm done controlling. Now I'm about letting and allowing. Overall, this is simply a better way to be.

Nate will be heading up next week to see what lies under all that snow and to un-winterize. I will join him in the early part of May. There is much to be done, but not really. Mostly what is to be done is simply to live. To be and let be, to breathe, and to dream.

Winter has restored me. I am ready now.

October 2016 - November 11, 2016: The Milky Way Still Exists, and the Stars Align

Dear Maine,

I can't believe it's October! Autumn looks good on you. Of course, this isn't the first time I've seen you dressed this way. It's hard to believe we've been officially acquainted for over a year now, and while there is still much work to be done, the progress we have made together is really incredible.

And now it's time.

The decision was made to pour, and the time is now. No matter how nervous we are about making sure everything goes according to plan (or at least close enough), things are happening NOW.

We got everything as set as we could on October 2nd, and we had a nice campfire before spending our first night in the shipping container. Just an air mattress on the floor, but it was just fine. We woke up early on the morning of the 3rd just to make sure everything is ready for the pour.  There was really little else we could do after breakfast but wait, so we waited for the concrete truck.

I'm not great at waiting. Neither is Nate, it turns out, so he went for a walk to go do something down at the end of the driveway by the road. I stayed in the clearing sitting in my camp chair and reading my Nat Geo (have I mentioned that I love my Nat Geos?). I was sitting there, and I heard something moving through the woods... something BIG. I paused, looked up and looked around, but I saw nothing, so I went back to my magazine. But then I heard it again, this time accompanied by a huffing that sounded something like a cross between a horse coughing and a deer snorting like they do when they're annoyed at something. This time I got up, because whatever that big thing was, it was closer, and it wanted me to know it was there. I walked closer to the middle of the clearing for a full panorama (and thereby removing myself from any sort of cover that might protect me from this big thing, whatever it was, now that I think about it), and as I looked north, the crashing-through-the-brush started again in earnest, and then I saw it charge across a path at the edge of the clearing about seventy-five yards away... a moose! He was only visible as a tall, dark shape with a big, furry shoulder for about a second and a half, but he was unmistakably a moose, and a fast-moving one at that. This is so exciting!! We knew we had moose, because their tracks are everywhere, but this is the first official moose sighting on the land! I had tried calling to Nate, but he didn't hear me, so after I was convinced that the moose was permanently out of sight, at least for now, I went running down the driveway toward Nate. He knew something was up, because I never run unless something is chasing me (the moose was not chasing me).

But anyway, that was my little gift from the Universe on the day of the concrete pour: a moose sighting. It's kind of like everything is really coming together with this whole thing.

And here is our baby, all prepped and ready to pour. Ultimately what we have here is a 16 x 24 foot foundation with gravel and stone beneath the roughly 14-inch footer, gravel beneath the roughly 6-inch interior, a 6 mil vapor barrier underneath a layer of 2-inch XPS foam boards cut to fit and taped together with gorilla time with rebar running all the way around in the footer, a layer of wire mesh seated on top of little plastic chairs with Pex tubing for radiant floors attached to it. The wire mesh is connected to the J-bolts (That's probably not the right name, but that's what they look like to me. They are the bolts to which the sill plates will be attached to anchor the house to the foundation. Nate attached them to little pieces of wood which are attached to the form so that the bolts will already be in place before the pour. This seems like it will seat them better than trying to stick them into the wet concrete after the pour.). The two drain pipes (kitchen sink and shower) are in and have insulation wrapped around them to protect them from the concrete. The two ends of the Pex for the radiant floors are sticking up, and we put in two separate lengths of Pex tubing to run from what will be the utility room to the kitchen sink. There is also a multi-purpose 4-inch flexible pipe running from the utility room out under the foundation so that we can use it to run in whatever we might need from the outside. We may never use any of these things, but it's best that they're in there now, because once the concrete is poured, that's kind of it.

Here she is, all ready:



And here comes our concrete!



I didn't really know what to expect. Besides mixing up a little mortar to repair the front steps at my old house and dumping concrete into holes to secure fence posts, I have no concrete experience. The concrete guy (I can't remember his name, but he was very helpful) added some extra water to give us a little more time to work it, and he brought it in slowly for us, filling first near the rear and moving the chute from side to side as Nate and I spread the concrete into the corners. He paused to give us the time we needed to get everything moved around, and eventually, by taking off lengths of the chute and swinging it from one side to the other, the entire thing was full of concrete. There was a frog that had gotten into the foundation, but Nate tossed him out just before he was about to become a permanent part of our home! It was a close call for that guy!

It was a close call for us, too... The concrete guy was awesome in that he poured our extra concrete into 5-gallon buckets for us (we had exactly 2 1/2 buckets worth of extra concrete - so about 12 extra gallons is all... I'm not sure we could have gotten much closer to having the perfect amount of concrete... or much closer to not having enough to get the job done...), and then he busied himself with cleaning up his truck and pouring some extra water into buckets and our concrete-mixing tub for us since we have no easy water source while we took the first pass with the scree board to see what we had. There were a couple low spots, so we used up one of our buckets of extra concrete, but once we got it screed a second time, it was darn near perfect. And now we're down to just 7 extra gallons of concrete! That works out well, because we really didn't need a giant pile of useless extra concrete kicking around.

And here she is, screed:



It was really kind of fun mucking around in the wet concrete with rubber boots on and pulling the concrete to the edges. It was also fun making it all flat and level with the scree board.

After we got it screed, our concrete truck left (and it got a lot quieter), and we went to work with the bull float and the trowels. For our very first time, we did a great job! If we had worked just a little bit harder, we probably could have gotten it to a near-mirror finish, but we wanted it to have some texture since it will probably be our floor for a while, and super slippery concrete isn't such a great idea.

We kept checking it and checking it and checking it, just to make sure there was really nothing else for us to do. Because we had the extra water added, there was a lot of "cream" that we had to keep scraping off the top and off the edges of the foundation.

I think it looks really good!



We got so lucky that the sun came out and helped to dry it.  While we were waiting, we took a walk. In a normal forest, the trees come to rely on each other to stay upright, so when larger trees are removed (as in logging), some of the taller, spindlier trees who relied on the bigger ones can no longer hold themselves up, and they fall over into arcs. They're not healthy, certainly, but they're not dead, and these few created this beautiful arch of fall foliage. It seems like right now is getting close to peak leaf beauty time.



Before we left for the day, we made sure it was solid enough (we didn't walk on it, but we could tell it could support a decent amount of weight), then we covered it with tarps held down by firewood and crossed our fingers.

The next time we could get back up to see our masterpiece was Thursday, October 6th, which was another lovely, bright sunny day. We pulled back the tarp, and voilà! Perfection! The only imperfect thing (which we really don't care about at all) is that the tarp left almost like stains in the concrete where it was touching. It had rained in the intervening days, so maybe that's a factor, Either way, we are very happy with the results.  We took off the forms, cleaned up the foam where excess concrete had been, backfilled to the foam and attached the sill plates. The J-bolts worked well. There was an issue with the first ones we tried: it seemed that not enough of them was sticking out of the concrete! But by countersinking the holes, Nate was able to make it work. Fortunately, it was only the first two we tried that had this issue, and all the rest of them were perfect. The only extra work was that we had to chip away little ridges of concrete that had hardened around the pieces of wood that we had used to hold the bolts in place before the pour. That really wasn't a big deal. We are very pleased, because everything is just about perfectly square and level. There are a couple corners that the water likes to pool in, but they're only maybe a quarter inch lower than the rest of the surface. I would say that's pretty good.



As time draws short, I am all about being productive and getting things off my to-do list. Back in July I bought the bat house builders handbook, and I bought all the materials and Nate cut all the pieces then, too. For the past several weeks I've been meaning to get to it, but now that I know that I'm heading back south on November 1st, there's no time to wait. So here you see the inventory I took on October 8th, and Nate is drilling holes in the pieces that need them. (The holes are so the bats can go between chambers.) There are three bat houses' worth of wood there on the ground.



This is probably the least fun part (according to Nate; I wouldn't know because I'm scared of the circular saw), but it's necessary. The bats need some kind of traction so they can land and climb up and down within the house, so there need to be grooves every quarter inch or so, and the grooves have to be very shallow: only about 1/32 inch deep. We couldn't think of a better way to make them for now, but we are going to have to if I make any more of these, which I probably will if there's any demand for them. This part made Nate cranky.



We headed back to the land on October 10th. Now that the Fair is over, we are only working on the farm Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday morning. Our tasks at this point (besides daily animal chores, which don't really feel like work) consist mostly of harvesting for Tuesday and Thursday CSA pick up and for the Farmers' Market on Saturday. When we're not harvesting, we are tearing up plants and composting them and getting the fields ready for winter. We spent our time on the 10th putting in orders for lumber and sheathing and working on the container, because that's where Nate might be living for the winter.

Nate's working on insulating the container. It's framed out with 2x4s, and there is a 6 mil vapor barrier on the floor, mostly to keep us safe from all the nasty Chinese chemicals that saturate the floorboards to keep them free of pests, mold and mildew. (These containers take a one-way ride over from China, and then they stay here, hopefully to be repurposed. It annoys me that it's cheaper not to send them back for reuse. But then again, it also annoys me that we buy so much cheap, toxic crap from China instead of buying quality items made locally and thus keeping our local economies healthy, but that's another story... and a large part of my personal philosophy behind this endeavor. But it's not time to talk politics and philosophy just yet. Maybe next winter once I'm actually living in this house we're building and there's four feet of snow on the ground and the cabin fever is raging.) Then there is a layer of one-inch XPS foam board for insulation. The 2x4s in the walls create separate bays that Nate is sealing with spray foam then adding foam board to in such a way as to add an air gap that will (ostensibly) increase the R-value of the walls, simply by using air. That's a sciency thing - it's Nate's realm more than it is mine. Not that I'm not good at science; Nate's just better. He's more physics/electricity/mechanics. I'm more biology/chemistry.



The next step is a layer of OSB flooring. After this, we will need to seal the cracks and come up with some sort of cheap, durable flooring to lay on top, as this will eventually become Nate's workshop and a backup emergency living shelter. At any rate, I'm pretty excited about sleeping in it on our next overnight now that there's insulation on the floor. It should be warmer!



We set up all our deliveries for Monday, October 13th. It was a dreary day, but we are running out of time, and now that the concrete is poured and the sill plates are in, all we need are materials so we can get building. Nate tells me this is the part when things start going really fast. I hope he's right!

Our first delivery arrived around 9:15 am, and it was a surprise! Crescent Lumber was going to call first to make sure we were there, but they just came on over anyway. No big deal. We are excited to have sheathing. Unfortunately, it doesn't do us much good without lumber, but...



...as the Crescent truck was leaving, this guy arrived! (Literally about three minutes later!)



That's Mike from Parker Lumber (about five miles up the road, which is really cool, because it means our lumber is about as local as it can get!). He unloaded our order, and then we were ready to begin. Here's Nate making one of the very first cuts. By the way, aside from a screw gun, we have no other power tools, so everything else is being done by hand -- every cut, every nail.



Before we could get too far along, our third delivery of the day arrived. This is William with a load of topsoil that we were able to get for a ridiculously awesome price - but this year only, because it may be gone soon and William isn't sure he can get any more next year. We had to jump on it while we had the chance. So after William dumped this load for us (on our grey water pit, which needed just a little more fill), he went back for a second load. We would be seeing him in another couple hours.



I've been looking for the moose. No moose, but moose tracks! This one is right next to the fire pit, about fifteen yards from the house. I'm sure he's checking out all the things we've been doing on his land.



So. We had our lumber by 10:00 a.m. We paused to talk with William for a bit, but here we are by noon: our first wall ready to be lifted.



Since we waited to put in the headers and footers for the window until the wall was raised, it wasn't too heavy. Nate and I were able to lift it by ourselves. Here's Nate nailing in the top plate. And just like that, Wall No. 1 is in place. And it's only 1:00.



We had the second wall lifted by 4:00. This one wasn't so easy. Just because of the differences in it, it was either a little heavier or balanced differently (or we were more tired), and we weren't able to get it up by ourselves. We got it to about shoulder height, but that was it. So we enlisted Nate's truck, which solved the problem.



And just like that, just one week after pouring our foundation and a mere six hours after receiving our lumber, our house has two walls!

William came back with our second load of topsoil, and he got out and started walking around, clearly pondering something. He had a little time to chat, so we explained a little more of our plans. He asked what we planned to do about our debris-filled clearing. We said we didn't know (because we didn't. We've toyed with so many ideas as to what to do about that mess.). He kind of rubbed his chin and said, "You know, I think I could skim that down nicely with my 'dozer and get you a good, flat layer of topsoil to work with, and I think I could do it in about half a day for [insert really reasonable range of figures here]." Nate and I told him we'd think about it. We didn't think about it for long, because William is awesome (he's been bringing us stone and gravel and other things all summer), and because William's estimate was really reasonable. William is going to come back and make our clearing a lot less of a mess on the 20th.

Fall has been beautiful back on the farm. This is Willow basking in the morning sun.



And the work on the bat houses continues (at a somewhat frantic pace, since it's now October 15th). Now that all the grooves have been cut in, construction can begin in earnest. But first, everything needs at least two coats of stain. The bat houses need to be black in order to be warm enough for the bats in this northern climate. And stain is better than paint since it soaks in rather than creates a barrier, and the bats will be able to get a better grip. Stain also seems (but probably isn't) less toxic than paint. As you can see, space is at a premium, but it is what it is, and I WILL get these bat houses built!



So this is life: harvesting and doing farm work, going to market, working on the bat houses, and going up to the land, kind of in a revolving pattern just like that. It's starting to cool down a bit, so we are firing up the wood stove at night, and it's delightful. Makes the stain on the bat houses dry more quickly.

Unfortunately, we are feeling the pressure now that there are only two weeks left before I head back to New York. Nate will stay up here a little longer, but it's certainly easier to do things when there are two of us (even though Nate does most of the hard stuff). We went up to the land on Sunday, October 16th, with all our gear to stay overnight so that we can make the most of the 17th as well. We have a house to build!

The end of the day on Sunday saw us with four walls framed and lifted into place with all the top plates put on. Once we get some sheathing up, this thing is going to be solid! It's amazing to me how flimsy this thing really is. It's just not sturdy at all! I realize that it will be much better once the sheathing is up.

Lifting up that east wall with the truck gave us an idea. For whatever reason, that wall had a really short scab holding the two top pieces together, and it bent A LOT at that joint when we lifted it up. So, since our north and south (front and back) walls will effective be made of two 12-foot sections, we built them half a wall at a time and lifted them in the same way. We then connected them and put in our headers and footers for the windows and the French doors. We framed the windows rather generically since we don't know what size windows we will ultimately get; it depends on what's available for what price at the Hammond Lumber semiannual tent sale in May.  We are going to sheathe over the openings for winter anyway, and we will adjust our framing once we actually get the windows.  So by 5:30 p.m. on Sunday, here is where we stand:



The days are getting shorter, the wind is making a nuisance of itself, and the temperatures are starting to drop a bit more sharply at night. Still, temperatures are in the 40s or 50s, and work can still be done. I'm glad we have that newly insulated shipping container floor to sleep on... or not. It was SO COLD!! I climbed into bed relatively early because it was starting to rain and I was really cold. I stayed really cold until Nate came to bed, then I got a little bit warmer, but not much. We were both so cold (turns out that container just decides to be whatever temperature it wants, and it seems to want to stay colder than the outside temperatures), that Nate got up really, really early to build a fire, and I was too cold without him, so I got up, too.

This is our Monday morning survival fire, complete with moonset in the background. Dawn is sneaking up over the eastern horizon, and I can't wait until she brings her warmth with her. It's about 6:30 a.m. We've been huddled by the fire for about two hours now. Brr!



And I am grateful for the glorious, clear night, despite the cold. I looked on a map of light pollution levels around the world, and our land falls into a zone only two zones away from As Dark As It Can Possibly Get. And, so, under these conditions, I can confirm that the Milky Way indeed still exists in all her magnificence. I look forward to more clear, starry skies; brilliant moons; and maybe even some aurora borealis!

But this is how it works: the sun comes up, it warms up, we drink hot beverages and eat breakfast (thanks to the local general store) and we get right back to work, right where we left off.

Our first Monday morning project is putting in the floor joists for the half loft. We used 16-foot 2x8s, and they were measured perfectly so we didn't have to cut them at all (this is a rare occurrence so far in this project). This made for a not-terribly-difficult installation. And some of the boards have a really pretty grain, so I chose which way they would face to show off their best sides since they will remain exposed. They are the first truly aesthetic part of this build, and I got all excited as I started to envision what this is really going to look like when it's all done (in, like, ten years...). It's also easier to envision what it's going to be like as a home now that there's a "ceiling" in the kitchen.



Yep. Strong enough to stand on. A good quality in a floor.



Just as we were putting on our first piece of sheathing, Beth and Dennis rolled up to check out our operation. They'd never been up to visit, but they had heard us talking about it so often that they needed to see it for themselves. It was nice to have friends stop by and create a little break in the work for us.

Once Beth and Dennis left us, we went back to work, and we got the north wall entirely sheathed. We finished up around 4:30, and the shadows were lengthening and our bodies were tired, so we decided to call it a day.

Each night before we leave, we cover our materials back up with tarps, put all our tools away out of the weather and put our tarp back over the concrete pad, just in case.



Maine does have strange weather. Indian Summer seems to be upon us here on October 19th, so I was able to leave the confines of the cabin to do a second coat of stain on the bat houses outside. This day was so warm! No need for long sleeves or long pants, and very easy to break a sweat while working! We got a couple day stretch like this, and it was very nice indeed. One last little summer hurrah.



We headed back to work on the homestead on the 20th. The skies aren't so clear today, and the temperatures are much more autumnal. Nevertheless, there is work to be done.

Early morning east-facing pictures never seem to come out very well, but this is the "before" picture of the clearing:



Yuck, right? All those garbage weeds and piles of mulch...

But this is the "after" picture (while William is still working, and Nate is sheathing the south wall). It's SO much better. Aside from a few stumps (which will be perfect for an experiment in hugelkultur), everything is mostly flat and stick-free, leaving behind a nice, rich layer of what was once forest soil. (I hear plants like that stuff.)  I can finally see how this place can turn into a homestead capable of producing enough food for us to live on.

It was really nice continuing to build while William was working away with his dozer. Reminded me of being a kid on our farm where I would be playing or doing chores with the steady, comforting hum of my dad running some sort of tractor or heavy equipment in the background. It's not a sound I especially remembered from childhood until I experienced it again today.



And here we are, all four walls sheathed. Now, when I stand inside it, it feels kind of like a house. It's pretty exciting. It's supposed to rain these next few days, but it's not supposed to be terribly cold, so everything should be okay. Zip sheathing is supposed to stand up especially well to the weather. Let's hope so.



It's getting down to the wire, so every moment not spent doing farm work or on our land building our human house is spent building bat houses. From here on out, it's all me (except when I get frustrated  or don't know how to do something and need help, then Nate's got my back). This is the inner chamber of the pole-mounted rocket box that will be going in our clearing. The instructions say you just make the two boxes then just slide one inside the other. Oh yeah, right. Mmhmm. Maybe if you make everything exactly perfect... which I did not do. So this is where Nate stepped in so that the rocket box did not become firewood. No big deal, really. I just backed out all the screws to loosen it up, took off one side, nestled the inner box inside, then put it back together. It's not perfectly square, but the bats probably won't mind.



This is serious diligence: the work on the rocket box continues, even with laundry hanging all over the cabin. Sometimes that's just how it is: my work environment isn't perfect, but it doesn't have to be. We think we need to have everything be just so, but we don't. We could really get by a lot more simply than we think we can.



One week left, and we need a roof. Unfortunately, the weather is not exactly cooperating. It's cold, but that wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the wind, which wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the gusts - the gusts that make it hard to stand on a ladder, stay warm, or maneuver giant sails in the form of lumber. But here we are on the 23rd: half our rafters are up... the easy half, because there is a floor in the loft on that side. We are cold. We are tired. We are sore. We are cranky. We are NOT spending another night in that freezing cold shipping container. We will spend the night in our toasty cabin then come back in the morning. At least we can use Brian's extension ladder for the rest. You'll notice that the sheathing is now taped. That's Zip tape, which doesn't just adhere to the sheets; it forms an impenetrable chemical bond over time (or so I'm told). That was all me. I did all that. Even the parts on a ladder in the wind.



After a good night's sleep (and more bat house work), we came back up to a less cold, less rainy, slightly more sunny day. It's clear that Mr. Moose has been around. This is a really great print we found in the driveway, which, judging by the number of tracks going up and down it, seems to be one of his major thoroughfares. It's also clear that he has fully inspected our work, as we have found tracks really, really close to our build site. We joked that we might find moose prints in our concrete after the pour on the 3rd, but that didn't happen. I decided if it had, I would have filled the prints with some sort of colored epoxy to preserve them. We've got the tracks. We've got the scat. Now where's that moose?!?



Here I am braving the ladder in order to zip-tape the upper edge of the wall, since this wall doesn't go any higher. (I do have a legitimate fear of heights, complete with racing heart, sweaty palms and vertigo... this is why I climb mountains. The only way to defeat fear is to face it.) The taping is my job, and I have to do it! Nate just climbs around up high like a monkey, seemingly fearlessly. I don't know how he does it. I'm not wired that way.



Our half rafters look pretty straight! They'll look even better once there are more of them, but for now, I'll take it. Besides, it's still very windy - too windy to be up there right now.



I liked zip-taping the bottom edge way more than I liked zip-taping the top edge. Our house doesn't look very big until I'm in the picture. Then it looks bigger. Or maybe I just look small.



Can you believe it?!? The bat houses are FINALLY complete! In the foreground is the four-chamber nursery (destined to become the official Fisher Farm bat house) finished just in time for our LAST farm dinner (and last CSA pick up at the farm) this evening (October 25th). Behind it stands the rocket box that will go in our clearing. There is a second four-chamber nursery that still needs some work, but that one's for Brian, so I still have a few days. For my final farm meal, I requested that Rose make crispy, cheesy kale. I'm not sure what's going on lately, but I am OBSESSED with kale. I can't get enough of it. And this is weird because historically I don't even like kale.



October 27th...our last Thursday (or mine, anyway). Here I am proudly displaying my completed rocket box. I can't wait to get it mounted so it can be inhabited!



We took Brian his bat house, which seemed to please him, and we got to work on those rafters. Not easy work, and not the straightest job in the world, but they're up, and so is one piece of sheathing. I have one more market, then two and a half days to get everything straightened around and ready to leave, then I'm gone. It makes me nervous that this is where the house stands with only four days left to go. But at least the house stands, and Nate is certainly capable of continuing without my supervision. I'm just one of those people who seems always to have to supervise (or throw myself right into the middle of everything).



Our last day of harvesting on the farm was one to make me glad the season was ending. It poured, and it was cold. The sheep had knocked down their fence and were half out, and it was raining so hard that when I yelled for Nate, he couldn't hear me, so I had to deal with that on my own, sopping wet with frozen fingers. And at this point, the cold doesn't make my hands feel any better; it makes them burn with pain. It's time for this to be over. Fortunately, this isn't my last day on the farm. There's still market tomorrow, and that's my favorite part. I will be sad to say goodbye to all my market friends... until I come back and see them next year! I will still need Rick's flowers, Bob's bacon, Jenny's sourdough and Izzy's (and everybody else's) delicious treats!

The next trip up to the land was a productive one. It started with this:



That's Bill. Above you can see how close he is to our vehicle. And below you can see just how close he is to our house!



We knew he had been snooping around and checking everything out, and we caught him in the action. We pulled onto the land around 9:20 a.m., didn't notice him; backed into our regular parking spot, still not noticing him; shut off the truck, STILL not noticing him. Then Nate went to get out, paused, said "Holy shit! Tamarra, LOOK!" And there he was, in all his chomping majesty, browsing through the fall grasses. He took a leisurely look in our direction, then went back to eating. He didn't seem at all bothered by our presence, which is great, because we want him to keep hanging around. Our land is a sanctuary for him; no harm will come to him here (unless he endangers us, of course, but our first encounter was very calm, so I have high hopes for peace between the humans and the moose). He made no indication that he had any intention of moving on from his breakfast spot, so we slowly and quietly got out of the truck. I climbed into the bed for a better vantage point (okay, for safety). We watched him for probably a good ten minutes, until he finally ambled off north, snatching mouthfuls of shrubs and leaves as he went. I watched him go up past the house and finally out of sight. What really amazed me was how difficult it became to see him among the young trees. You wouldn't think something that massive could hide so easily in an open clearing, but it can. Nate named him Bill. Bill seems to be a young bull, judging by his antlers. I would guess he is a year or two old. And while he's big, he's not full-grown big. I hope Bill sticks around for a long time to come and we can watch him grow. I want him to get a wife, settle down and raise calves on our land. That would be so cool!! It's already pretty cool - our very own moose!

But once the moose excitement was over, it was back to work.

Despite the wind, the roof had to get sheathed. Nate is very much in his element up high, but I was very nervous as he was way up there with only tiny pieces of wood to support him. He developed a pretty good system of nailing and taping as he went so he only had to move his supports a few times.



I did not enjoy this part of the process, though I'm sure Nate did, but ultimately, it got done, and now we have a roof. An actual, sheathed roof. We decided that was enough for today and went back to the farm to return the next day.



Halloween (my favorite day of the year, by the way) proved to be a very windy day, and, of course, it's the last day both of us have to work on things, so that kind of sucked. Today's tasks included putting plastic over the doors and window. We only left one window unsheathed, for which I am glad, and that took clear plastic in order to let some light in. We put black plastic over the doorways. Since Nate will still be here, we only covered the French door. I don't have a picture of how it looked the last time I saw it, but it looked mostly like it did in the photo above, only the window and door are covered with plastic. We tried in vain to get tarps up over the roof, but the wind made it impossible - and dangerous, since we tied rocks into the corners of the tarp in order to get it up over the roof. At one point one of those rock-filled corners came whizzing by at about 40 mph, narrowly missing my head. That was about the time we decided to call it quits with the tarp.

This was kind of a sad day for me, because I had to say goodbye to my land for the next several months. It's unknown how long it will be until I can come back. It depends on the prognosis with the injuries, what happens with work and money, and what the weather offers come spring.

So on Halloween, I said goodbye to my land... my future homestead and a big piece of my heart. I will miss it.

We went back to the cabin, and I loaded the last of the things I wouldn't need in the morning into the car, then settled in to spend time with Nate for my last night. We had some serious things to talk about. The last few days had been very, very tense between us, and we had serious doubts as to the wisdom of even continuing this adventure.

But Halloween is truly a magical time, and the magic of Halloween (along with open, honest communication) made things right between us. I think it's good that we will have a couple weeks apart. We've been on top of each other and in each other's (very tiny) space constantly for the last six months, working together, living together, building together... doing just about everything together, in  a small, challenging environment. It's enough to test any couple's resolve, love and commitment to each other. But this test only made us stronger.

I got up on the morning of November 1st, had a nice breakfast with Nate, went for a walk to say goodbye to all the animals (and thank you... the sheep, except for Nancy and Pearl, who will go to a new home, will be slaughtered in December, and the pigs will meet their end on November 19th. (I hope Beth and Dennis save us some bacon...). Then I packed up the car, got the two yowling cats into their places. I was able to belt Willow's carrier into the front seat, and Mittens, who has a hard-sided carrier, got to ride on top of the boxes in the middle of the back seat. I really packed the car to capacity. I headed down to the packing shed, picked up my Bob-bacon and the bags of veggies I had packed for myself the night before, said goodbye to my Fisher Farm family, and headed toward I-95 at about 8:45 a.m.

Thus ends my summer in Maine...
... almost.

My car had been acting finicky for the last few weeks. She was reluctant to start, and the clock would spontaneously reset itself from time to time. And this morning, she really didn't want to start to go to the packing shed. She didn't really want to start to get on the road either, so I just decided I wouldn't shut her off at all until I got back to Binghamton.

A great idea, it would seem, until my clock started resetting itself while I was driving down the highway. I called Nate for advice, and he said I should get to an AutoZone ASAP to have the battery and alternator checked. Fortunately, there's one in Newport, and I was only about six miles out. I stopped, and thankfully, the alternator is just fine, but the battery is on strike. I installed it in August 2012, so I guess it had a good life. I had two batteries to choose from, and I asked the clerk if the more expensive one was really worth the extra money and asked him what he would tell me if I were his sister. He said it's worth it, so I went for it. He was kind enough to give me a discount, so it ended up costing the same as the cheaper one. See, this is why I love you, Maine. I didn't ask for special treatment; I was just nice, and he went out of his way to be nice in return. I'm going to miss all the Mainers until I come back.

Anyway, he and I got to talking about cars and such, and I told him about the 138,000 miles on mine, and he told me she's just a baby by Maine standards. Mainers run their cars to 250k or more, so mine's got a lot of life left in her.

After our half-hour pit stop, we were on our way. I had two yowlers this time, and they serenaded me all the way to New Hampshire. The timing worked out just right. With stops for gas, I made it back to New York, where Jason was waiting to help me unload and get settled in, by 6:00 p.m.

And now a new chapter begins; a chapter that leads me away from you, Maine, but that will ultimately lead me right back.

Don't worry, Maine; my heart is still yours.

Until we meet again...