Wednesday, December 21, 2011
~ My Christmas Spirit in A Junk Yard ~
The ranch has had snow on the ground for 3 weeks now........lot's of snow, which is why I had to go out this morning, and shovel out the back of the pick-up truck so I could drive it to the junk yard.
This particular junk yard is East of Snowflake. It starts on the side of the county highway and meanders back on acreage. Mike owns it, he and his wife. Mike makes treasures out of others junk, and it's always worth stopping to take a look around.
After wandering around for awhile (in mud I might add), I found a piece I liked. Unfortunately, no one was home. I walked over to the Country store next door, asked to use the phone, and called Mike on his cell. He was ecstatic that someone was at the junk yard inquiring about one of his pieces. He was almost to town with his wife, but he said he'd turn around and scoot back to meet up with me. He did so promptly I might add.
We settled on a price and shook hands. Something I have always done when a deal has been struck or when conducting business with people. Mike took off somewhere in the junk yard to locate a dolly to load this "piece" in my pick-up truck. I wandered around a bit longer looking at things. Out of no where a young man walked up to Mike's wife, he told her he'd run out of gas down the road, he wondered if she had a used gas can he could borrow. She located one for him, loaned it to him, and off he went to the country store to fill it with gas. A few minutes later, he took off on foot to fill his tank. Another older gentleman pulled up in his dilapidated truck, got out with a big ol' grin and said "hi" to both of us. Mike's wife obviously knew him. They chit-chatted while I continued to wander.
While I wandered around, I couldn't help but tune into their conversation...................the man was having problems locating and obtaining parts for his old truck. He evidently lived many miles off the highway on a county road. Without blinking an eye, Mike's wife told him she would get the parts he needed while she was down in Payson this week, not to worry. Mike then walked out from the back with his dolly and noticed their friend. He smiled and shook his hand, it was then that Mike told their friend that he and his wife would be feeding people again at Christmas this year. Mike told him it would be similar to the meal they hosted at Thanksgiving......anybody and everybody could show up for food, companionship, warmth. Mike said he didn't want anybody to go without at Christmas. His friend told him he wouldn't miss it for the world, cuz the meal they made everyone at Thanksgiving was wonderful!
After Mike loaded my piece, he walked over to the store to make change for me, but before he did, he asked me if I was thirsty, would I like something to drink? I declined but thanked him anyway. While Mike was off getting my change, his wife and the man came over with a rope and tied my "piece" down in the truck, although I think it would have been fine without the tie down, it was a very kind gesture. It was something they didn't even think twice about doing for me.
After saying my good-byes, and slowly pulling out of the mud hole of a parking lot onto the county road, I reflected on those few precious moments. In fact, I was so moved by these three people, that tears welled in my eyes. To look at these three people, a person could/would certainly assume they were very poor, lacking the basic material goods we all take for granted. Yet the spirit with which these three people moved in, in their daily lives, was so much richer and gentler than anything I have ever witnessed. The compassion, concern, and care they showed to perfect strangers was almost surreal.
And it wasn't because of the "holiday" spirit. No, this is something much bigger, I feel it in my gut...........these people move in this gentle spirit daily. This is who they are!
This experience will stay with me for along time, this was a wonderful gift I received.
Proverbs 22:9 "A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor."
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
~ Walking Amongst Her ~
I'm very much "in love" with nature! It is when I'm standing in her grace & beauty, that I most feel at home. Personal problems either large or small, become very insignificant when you stand among her.........she is healing.
Nature affords me the chance to follow my interests and reduces pressures, fears, introjects and social expectations. The natural world affects my values and aspirations..........mostly my intrinsic aspirations. When I spend time in nature, I place a higher value on community/connectedness values and a lower value on self-oriented values. Full contact with nature has humanizing effects on me.
For me, a call to understand that nature is not inert, passive or limited in intelligence, lends creedence to the fact that we humans are not more intelligent than nature and vice-versa. There is nothing that happens outside, which is not inside us. Nature is spiritual, we are spiritual beings......the two go hand in hand.
And so..........I reach for that intrinsic connectedness, for that smell of life, for that beauty, for peace.........for my life!
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
~ On Any Given Day......~
Our granddaughter Kiley, and her girlfriend at a Fall concert. |
Two of my childhood girlfriends attending a BBQ at the ranch. |
A lone coyote hunting in the field outside my kitchen window. |
Canning heirloom & organic food from our garden annually. |
My beloved spinning wheel. |
A #300 pound hog, heading to locker. Certainly not for everyone, and by far, not easy. |
Attending all day BBQ's hosted by friends. |
Having to say "good-bye" to a beloved pet. |
The simple joy of watching our lambs. |
Annual wood-cutting. |
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Residing at the Helm...........Being Your Own Village
A shared posting from a website I subscribe to........enjoy:
Sometimes we need to be our own village and utilizing all of our skills and learning more.
Simple survival requires us to be in possession of many skills. The pursuit of dreams requires many more. Most individuals rely on the support of a village, whether peopled by relatives or community members, to effectively address the numerous ways we need assistance. This can mean anything from asking favors of acquaintances and leaning on loved ones for support to paying a skilled artisan to handle specialized tasks. However, each human being is born with the capacity to be their own village. We embody many roles throughout our lifetimes, all of which are representative of our capacity for self-sufficiency and self-determination. In different moments in our lives, we are our own counselor, janitor, caregiver, cook, healer, teacher, and student. Our willingness to joyfully take on these roles grants us the power to maintain control over the direction our life’s journey takes.
In times past, human beings learned all of the skills needed for survival. Today, the majority of people specialize in a single discipline, which they hone throughout their lives. Thus, many of us feel uncomfortable standing at the helm of our own existence. We question our ability to make decisions concerning our own health, happiness, and welfare, and are left feeling dependent and powerless. But the authority to take ultimate responsibility for our lives is simply a matter of believing that we have the necessary faith and intelligence to cope with any circumstance the universe chooses to place in our path. Proving that we can each be our own villages through action enables us to accept that we are strong enough to exist autonomously. Cooking, cultivating a garden of fruits and vegetables, undertaking minor home repair, or adopting a healthier lifestyle can help you reassert your will.
Being your own village does not mean embracing isolation, for a balanced life is built upon the dual foundations of the inner and the outer villages. Rather, being your own village is a celebration of your wondrous inner strength and resourcefulness, as well as an acknowledgment of your innate ability to capably steer the course of your life.
Peace to all of you, who find your inner and outer villages!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thursday, September 22, 2011
~ Silly Boys...........Trucks are for Girls! ~
I'm not sure when my way of thinkin' about life shifted. I was once a young woman travelling around the countryside backpacking, and working for the Department of Natural Resources, now.....I'm a farm girl who knows how to "buck" hay, and birth lambs.
Outside this afternoon, stacking a cord of wood on the ol' woodpile, a hay truck drove by. I looked up as it went by, just in time to observe the "quality" of the hay. It was evident (to a trained eye), that this particular load of hay had gotten wet! The dreaded curse of farmers..........a perfect day of cutting, then a random rain storm to drench it all. At that point it becomes "cow" hay cuz only cows can eat it. I also happened to note how many "squeezes" were on this truck...........that's when it dawned on me that I'm not your average girl! I had to laugh at myself, because I'm not sure when this transformation happened.
Here's a lil,' "good to know" trivia I have in my head, y'll might want to pay attention to this bit of information...........HOW TO FIT 39 BALES OF HAY INTO A STANDARD SIZE PICK-UP TRUCK!
Bottom 1st Row
9 bales on their sides-4 on their sides on the bottom first row(running front to back direction of truck)
1 on its side between the tire wells(running side to side)
4 on their sides on the bottom last row (running front to back & near tail-gate)
Second Row
10 bales on their bottoms (running side to side)
Third Row
10 bales on their bottoms(one bale running front to back, two bales running side to side, then one bale running front to back again. Then...two bales of hay running side to side to block in the first four bales. Then repeat with one bale running front to back, two bales running side to side)
Fourth Row (Top)
10 bales on their bottoms (running side to side)
So now, y'll know how to stack 39 bales of hay on a pick-up truck. Another lil' trivia: If you're so lucky as to go into the farmers field and "buck" these yourself (for a much cheaper price) you won't have to "tip" the young man at the feed store. Because that's another lil' bit of information for you............. it's etiquette to tip the young buck who's loading your hay into the pick-up for you. Kinda like you would a waitress when she serves you food.
Also keep in mind that any errand runnin' you might have to do that day (such as pedicures, manicures or beauty parlor), do it before you get your pick-up truck load of hay..........unless you're really good with those side mirrors ladies! I happen to be one of those gals that's real good with those mirrors!
Somehow, somewhere along the way, my way of thinkin' and livin' has certainly SHIFTED!!
"As long as we are all here, it's pretty clear that the struggle is to share the planet, rather than divide it."
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
~ Imagine~
IMAGINING the many paths we could pursue in life helps us get up each morning and face the world. But there's sweeter satisfaction in finding the power to follow through.
In the country, firsts come year after year---all memorable and most heartwarming. Imagine your first bite-sized potato from a garden you planted yourself. Imagine waving your arms frantically at a failed attempt to round up an escaped sheep. Imagine a scar-covered farmer who tells you stories from his childhood as if they were only yesterday. Imagine the tiniest breeze as a baby wren attempts its first flight inches from your ear to the calling of its mom--going nowhere fast, but determined to make the journey. Imagine a place where an owl screeching in the tree next to your window at night is, quite literally, an eye opener. Imagine a place where the world really does stand still for moments at a time. So I did......................................................................................
I've imagined this little farm since childhood. It's always been my dream, to be surrounded by animals. In my estimation, it is in the presence of animals that we develop a higher sense of ourselves and the world in which we all participate. Animals teach us much, if we would only listen and observe........ I pass through the seasons of a year in step with my flocks cycle. Breeding turns to lambing and shearing turns to grazing and so on. I credit my life to my animals for teaching me that we all fit together, that we all hold a place and purpose in the world.
Imagine a productive garden full of food.........Sometimes I think to myself that maybe, just maybe, a person's time would be as well spent raising food as raising money to buy food.
I pass through these seasons with the cycles of my sheep, the cycles of the garden, the cycles of a country year.... It's hard work, it takes a patient hand, and being satisfied when everything is taken care of at the end of the day, even if it isn't perfect.
Imagine a place.......where your most far-fetched ideas come to play...
A poem by Pat Lynn Reilly:
Imagine a Woman
Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.
Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself.
A woman who listens
to her needs and desires.
Who meets them with tenderness and grace.
Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine
in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality
to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman in love
with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Imagine a woman who honors the body
of the Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation
of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her life-energy
disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who values
the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth
about herself when she forgets.
Imagine yourself as this woman.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
~ Energy N. 1. The strength and vitality required for sustained physical or mental activity.
Energy, seems to be lacking in many people these days...........hmmm? I've always been an industrious and hardworking individual. I don't really know if it's due to good genes or the work ethic my folks instilled in us as young kids (chores galore, including weeding a large lot by hand every summer!). I've always worked.
The sustenance of my energy is a culmination of a few things: 1. Diet 2. Exercise 3. Living life to it's fullest every single day. 4. Genes.... we'll give credit where credit is due!
I was a young women once.........I had dreams, ambitions, and ENERGY! I've hiked mountains and lakes most people will never see, I've rock climbed granite slabs on mountainsides, I've back-packed in Alaska twice, I've river rafted on an Alaskan river (they are huge & ferocious), I've lived off-grid in the mountains of Washington state, hauling my own water with a wee baby in tow. I've always gardened, eaten well, and taken care of my body. I've never stopped LIVING!
Now that our children are raised and gone, I'm busier than ever. I still grow a huge garden (because I know how wonderful the veggies are), I preserve what can't be eaten, I'm an avid spinner and knitter, I belong to a weekly, women's group, I now market my yarns (which is a full-time job of it's own), I handle all the husbandry on our ranch (castrations, dockings, and illnesses), I handle all the breeding (more detailed than you might think), I clean my own house (which gets darn dirty on a ranch w/three dogs and two cats welcome indoors at any time), I maintain the lawns, flower beds, garden and watering on our ranch. I find the time in the day to meditate, do yoga & walk 3.5 miles most mornings.
Bottom line: This IS my LIFE. How can I NOT have the energy to grab it by the horns and LIVE it??? It amazes me how many people I know are awe striken by my "energy." It's not so much about having energy as it is living life, and being healthy. When you have that, you have the energy.
If you want ENERGY...........get up, get moving, do something new everyday, go for a hike, eat well and be concious of your eating, what you're eating, get plenty of sleep, drink 64 oz. of water daily, meditate for 30 minutes ..............my ENERGY runneth over because of my lifestyle. Anyone can have this, they just have to want it!
If I could tell y'll one thing about "obtaining more ENERGY" it would be to throw out all conventional foods and sugars in your pantry, cut them out of your diet, eat more organic (especially meats!!!), slowly work towards becoming completely organic in food choices.................AND......................dance, hike, do yoga............just move!
Have a happy, loving heart, and abundant life, it'll do ya good! It will be a life fulfilled!
The sustenance of my energy is a culmination of a few things: 1. Diet 2. Exercise 3. Living life to it's fullest every single day. 4. Genes.... we'll give credit where credit is due!
I was a young women once.........I had dreams, ambitions, and ENERGY! I've hiked mountains and lakes most people will never see, I've rock climbed granite slabs on mountainsides, I've back-packed in Alaska twice, I've river rafted on an Alaskan river (they are huge & ferocious), I've lived off-grid in the mountains of Washington state, hauling my own water with a wee baby in tow. I've always gardened, eaten well, and taken care of my body. I've never stopped LIVING!
Now that our children are raised and gone, I'm busier than ever. I still grow a huge garden (because I know how wonderful the veggies are), I preserve what can't be eaten, I'm an avid spinner and knitter, I belong to a weekly, women's group, I now market my yarns (which is a full-time job of it's own), I handle all the husbandry on our ranch (castrations, dockings, and illnesses), I handle all the breeding (more detailed than you might think), I clean my own house (which gets darn dirty on a ranch w/three dogs and two cats welcome indoors at any time), I maintain the lawns, flower beds, garden and watering on our ranch. I find the time in the day to meditate, do yoga & walk 3.5 miles most mornings.
Bottom line: This IS my LIFE. How can I NOT have the energy to grab it by the horns and LIVE it??? It amazes me how many people I know are awe striken by my "energy." It's not so much about having energy as it is living life, and being healthy. When you have that, you have the energy.
If you want ENERGY...........get up, get moving, do something new everyday, go for a hike, eat well and be concious of your eating, what you're eating, get plenty of sleep, drink 64 oz. of water daily, meditate for 30 minutes ..............my ENERGY runneth over because of my lifestyle. Anyone can have this, they just have to want it!
If I could tell y'll one thing about "obtaining more ENERGY" it would be to throw out all conventional foods and sugars in your pantry, cut them out of your diet, eat more organic (especially meats!!!), slowly work towards becoming completely organic in food choices.................AND......................dance, hike, do yoga............just move!
Have a happy, loving heart, and abundant life, it'll do ya good! It will be a life fulfilled!
Thursday, August 4, 2011
For The Love of Gardening
Heirloom lettuce |
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Three Little Purls
Labels:
Jacob sheep,
Knitting
Monday, May 16, 2011
Why We LOVE Sheep!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sheet Mulching Gardening..........A New Concept?
Since it's Spring and everyone is talking about gardening, it made sense to post a story about my gardening experiences over the past umpteen years! I have been gardening and canning from my gardens for 33 years........wow! You'd think I know more than I actually do when it comes to gardening, but sometimes, just getting a garden planted, tending to it, and canning from it, can seem overwhelming....gardening is work, plain and simple.
I've recently learned about a "gardening technique" that our locals call, "Lasagna Technique." In actuality, the Lasagna technique of gardening has been around since the early 1900's. Ruth Stout was the originator of this gardening style. Ruth called it "sheet mulching gardening." I kinda like that term better, the visual in the name or something. Maybe it's because I'm not a huge lasagna fan, I don't know.
The idea of this gardening technique is pretty cut and dry. You are basically making compost in your garden beds. I've always been a "raised bed gardener" until I moved out to our lil' ranch. The previous owners had a large garden area tilled near our barns. Not having ever really planted in the dirt without a garden bed, I thought I'd give it a try. I have to tell you, although this garden produced prolifically for me over the past four years, I spent my life out in the garden weeding! I was losing my love of gardening very quickly. I turned to "The Man" not long ago and told him, "if you don't help me make garden beds, I'm not canning you anymore pickles, beets, greens, pumpkin or tomatoes"...........that seemed to be his inspiration! He loves home-grown, home-canned goodies his wife makes him. I know, I really play hard ball at times! Thus, the "re-vamping" of the Anderson garden.
Our beds are assorted in length, width remains the same. They are made of recycled and reclaimed materials. Sandstone, wood, galvanized metal...........it's the "shanty town" of gardens. We feel good using these materials, I don't care that it doesn't look like Martha Stewart's raised bed garden........I mean, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME???" So begins the new and improved Anderson garden.
Let me just say here quickly that part of the inspiration for the re-vamping of our garden came from a local tour not long ago, at a farmer's market grower. His explanation and technique of his gardening was my inspiration. Wish I'd listened to him five years ago when he offered to come to my house and show me "how!" Such is life.
So begins the work for the Anderson's. We build the beds out of reclaimed and recycled materials with corner posts sunk in the ground and bracing every 6-8 ft. We line the beds with chicken wire that is purchased in 4-ft. wide rolls (this process is done to keep moles, voles, prarie dogs and anything else that's a "digger" out). The next layer is cardboard, a full layer. We used boxes that we broke down (these are free!). On top of the cardboard we place a brown or green manure, doesn't matter which one you start with, as long as you alternate the layers. Brown manures should be twice as thick as the green manures. We also bought a truck-load of black cinder sand for $12. I mix one shovel full of sand into three shovel full of mulch (or brown manure). Mix and use. Keep alternating browns, greens, browns, greens. The depth of these beds should be anywhere from 18-24-inches high. Wet each layer lightly before adding another layer. You will finish this garden bed with good soil (that may cost you some money). When the bed is complete and you've wet the whole concoction for a few days, sprinkle bonemeal over the top (kinda like the icing on a cake), this will give you added phosphorus. PLANT your heirloom, organic seeds.
Remember that annually you will have to amend the soil, but from this point on, you have created some incredible rich, humus soil that will give you healthy veggies and herbs. As you amend this annually, it only gets better, darker, more fluffy, loaded with a lot of microbial growth that will nourish your veggies.
I'm very excited to be "back into my gardening forte'," I can grow incredible gardens with gardening beds, they are easy to amend, easy to weed (this won't be a perfectly weed free garden), easy to harvest from. I'm glad I only wasted four years trying this "other" gardening, let me tell you, it SUCKS! And it does because it destroys all the microbial growth in the soil, it turns up weed seeds so that sunlight hits them and thus begins your "weed patch." It hurts the lil' earth worms (if you have any), and it's just plain hard on the soil. Also, remember to heavily mulch your walk-ways so weeds don't begin growing in them. Use either a drip irrigation system on this garden, or a bubbler turned down low, or hand water. Don't over-head water ANY PART OF IT, or you will create more weeds within your garden boundry.
I had a garden once upon a time, I sold herbs to a local restaurant, I fed other families, I fed my own family, I harvested and dried my own herbs and never bought store bought herbs............I'm back to my roots this year, me and my "shanty town" garden! Happy Gardening y'll!
I've recently learned about a "gardening technique" that our locals call, "Lasagna Technique." In actuality, the Lasagna technique of gardening has been around since the early 1900's. Ruth Stout was the originator of this gardening style. Ruth called it "sheet mulching gardening." I kinda like that term better, the visual in the name or something. Maybe it's because I'm not a huge lasagna fan, I don't know.
The idea of this gardening technique is pretty cut and dry. You are basically making compost in your garden beds. I've always been a "raised bed gardener" until I moved out to our lil' ranch. The previous owners had a large garden area tilled near our barns. Not having ever really planted in the dirt without a garden bed, I thought I'd give it a try. I have to tell you, although this garden produced prolifically for me over the past four years, I spent my life out in the garden weeding! I was losing my love of gardening very quickly. I turned to "The Man" not long ago and told him, "if you don't help me make garden beds, I'm not canning you anymore pickles, beets, greens, pumpkin or tomatoes"...........that seemed to be his inspiration! He loves home-grown, home-canned goodies his wife makes him. I know, I really play hard ball at times! Thus, the "re-vamping" of the Anderson garden.
Our beds are assorted in length, width remains the same. They are made of recycled and reclaimed materials. Sandstone, wood, galvanized metal...........it's the "shanty town" of gardens. We feel good using these materials, I don't care that it doesn't look like Martha Stewart's raised bed garden........I mean, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME???" So begins the new and improved Anderson garden.
Let me just say here quickly that part of the inspiration for the re-vamping of our garden came from a local tour not long ago, at a farmer's market grower. His explanation and technique of his gardening was my inspiration. Wish I'd listened to him five years ago when he offered to come to my house and show me "how!" Such is life.
So begins the work for the Anderson's. We build the beds out of reclaimed and recycled materials with corner posts sunk in the ground and bracing every 6-8 ft. We line the beds with chicken wire that is purchased in 4-ft. wide rolls (this process is done to keep moles, voles, prarie dogs and anything else that's a "digger" out). The next layer is cardboard, a full layer. We used boxes that we broke down (these are free!). On top of the cardboard we place a brown or green manure, doesn't matter which one you start with, as long as you alternate the layers. Brown manures should be twice as thick as the green manures. We also bought a truck-load of black cinder sand for $12. I mix one shovel full of sand into three shovel full of mulch (or brown manure). Mix and use. Keep alternating browns, greens, browns, greens. The depth of these beds should be anywhere from 18-24-inches high. Wet each layer lightly before adding another layer. You will finish this garden bed with good soil (that may cost you some money). When the bed is complete and you've wet the whole concoction for a few days, sprinkle bonemeal over the top (kinda like the icing on a cake), this will give you added phosphorus. PLANT your heirloom, organic seeds.
Remember that annually you will have to amend the soil, but from this point on, you have created some incredible rich, humus soil that will give you healthy veggies and herbs. As you amend this annually, it only gets better, darker, more fluffy, loaded with a lot of microbial growth that will nourish your veggies.
I'm very excited to be "back into my gardening forte'," I can grow incredible gardens with gardening beds, they are easy to amend, easy to weed (this won't be a perfectly weed free garden), easy to harvest from. I'm glad I only wasted four years trying this "other" gardening, let me tell you, it SUCKS! And it does because it destroys all the microbial growth in the soil, it turns up weed seeds so that sunlight hits them and thus begins your "weed patch." It hurts the lil' earth worms (if you have any), and it's just plain hard on the soil. Also, remember to heavily mulch your walk-ways so weeds don't begin growing in them. Use either a drip irrigation system on this garden, or a bubbler turned down low, or hand water. Don't over-head water ANY PART OF IT, or you will create more weeds within your garden boundry.
I had a garden once upon a time, I sold herbs to a local restaurant, I fed other families, I fed my own family, I harvested and dried my own herbs and never bought store bought herbs............I'm back to my roots this year, me and my "shanty town" garden! Happy Gardening y'll!
Labels:
gardening,
mulching,
raised garden beds
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
A Blessing Way
Val |
This is my good friend Val, although I haven't known Val that long, she has truly stolen a piece of my heart. Val is very close in age to my own daughter. Val is new to our area, her husband Javier just started a Naturopathic practice in a near-by town. Val is a graphic web designer. She is also a member of our weekly womens group called the "Radical Homemakers."
It was after one of these weekly meetings that I truly connected with Val. She stayed at my house after our meeting ended, to chat with me about my sheep, spinning, and knitting.........Val is also a knitter. We talked about her dreams of moving to their new five acre parcel of land, the yurt she wanted to buy for their temporary home, raising animals and babies. How could any of that be dull? When I found out that her mother lived in Maryland and that she had no siblings, I knew I needed to hold a blessingway for her. She needed women to surround her with love at this point in her life. So, we did...........
Welcome to the Sacred Ceremony & Smudging..........
We started the ceremony with smudging....smudging is the burning of sacred herbs in ceremonies for clearing, prayer, & purification. We used Sweetgrass and White Sage. I had previously chosen four women to invoke the "four directions" presence and power. Each women brought in a direction (the East first, then S., then W. & finally N.) Each women said a prayer and filled prayer ties with tobacco and sage, we tied each small prayer tie off with my sweet "Gracies" wool in a continuous circle. This was given to Val so that she would have these spiritual prayers and energy to take home with her. As she is having a home birth with a midwife, each prayer tie can be tied in her room or on her bed in the directions they belong. Red to the East, Yellow to the South, Black to the West and White to the North.
Me welcoming the Women & Grandmothers |
Singing spiritual songs My good friend Maxie and my grand daughter Kiley, made a fresh flower tiara for Val. Kiley brushed and braided Val's hair, and then the tiara was placed upon her head. It was beautiful and fragrant.........flowers are symbolic of natures abundance and beauty just as a women is when she is in her full pregnant bloom. |
Brushing hair and placing the tiara We then took turns massaging Val's feet with cornmeal and warm Lavender water while she was able to relax and enjoy the moment. |
Lorraine, Val's midwife washing Val's feet |
Massaging her feet w/cornmeal |
Sharing the warmed sweet almond oil for a massage |
A massage from the ladies |
Each women was asked to bring a bead for a birth blessing necklace. Individually each women presented Val with a bead that they had chosen with care, something symbolic to them. As they placed the bead on a silver strand, they offered Val their individual blessing.........a safe passage for she and the baby, cherish and love each moment with your child as they grow so quickly, peace and love during your labor and so forth. This necklace will give Val a connection to all her women friends when she is birthing.
The oldest "sage" of the blessingway, Barbara Kerr, she is 85 yoa After our bead sharing, we made Val expose her belly so that all of us could paint her belly with henna (a natural & temporary dye). We got creative............ |
The henna painting..... We ended the day with an outdoor picnic. I had spent just a few days (ha!) choreographing and making an organic food buffet. We had fresh ground Kamut carrot cake with honey-cream cheese frosting for Val, some incredible apricot-raspberry bars, a bunch of organic finger foods & pregnancy iced tea. We also made prayer flags, similar to Tibetan prayer flags. Each women was able to choose a color of fabric, paint a blessing on the flags which Val will also be able to hang in her room during her labor. Another gentle reminder that her women friends are with her in spirit through this journey. Candles were sent home with all the women so that we can start a phone tree.... when I receive the call from Val's midwife Lorraine, that Val has gone into labor I will then call all the other women, we will light our candles and send positive energy and prayers for she and the baby, that they will indeed have a safe passage. Val, I was a bit nervous the day of our ceremony, but I want you to know one thing......if going through this rite was difficult, no women would have more than one child........from the moment you hold that lil' babe in your arms, nestle her to your breast, you will be hooked and smitten the remainder of your life. There is NO getting around it, you will be in love forever after! From the heart of Earth, by means of yellow pollen Blessing is extended. Blessing is extended. On top of the pollen floor may I there in blessing give birth! With long-life happiness surrounding me May I in blessing give birth! May I quickly give birth! In blessing may I arise again, in blessing may I recover, As one who is long-life happiness may I live on! --Navajo chant from the Blessingway Ceremony |
Labels:
babies,
friends,
spirituality
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Grandma Nellie~A True Story
"My great-grandmother was 111 years old when she died, the same age as the tatoo markings on her chin.
Grandma Nellie, as everyone called her, lived across the Klamoth river on Blue Creek. The only way you could get to her house was by a long journey through the ancient redwoods, through the prairies to the river, then across by boat. It was a very dangerous section of the mightly Klamath River where Blue Creek, which ran down from the saced High Country mountains, merged into the river. Blue Creek is still the purest, clearest, and most beautiful creek in the Yurok tribal territory.
Grandma Nellie was both a Seer and a Ceremonial Medicine Women. She healed with herbs, was considered clairvoyant because she could see into the future with accuracy, and she could find lost objects and lost people. She was able to solve murder cases, tell people's fortunes, and could read people's minds. That is why a lot of people feared her and why she lived alone, across the river, up on the side of the forested small mountain that eventually leads up to the higher mountains known as the Siskiyous.
The old farmhouse that was built years ago still stands there, and behind it you can find the traditional Yurok-style, redwood plank house our people lived in for centuries before European influence. Grandma used the old style Indian house to dry, sort, and store her herbs and as a place of meditation and prayer. Not too far from it was also the old-style, semi-subterranean, sacred sweatlodge she had used for doctoring hard cases, and the old salmon-fish smoke house that she used for making salmon strips, deer jerky, and smoked eels. She did not have electricity, modern plumbing, or conveniences. She had an old outhouse, a water system in the house based on gravitational flow, and an old wood heater for the kitchen and front room.
For years she lived all by herself in the old house, at the old village site. Different relations would come to visit and bring her food and some modern supplies like kerosene for the lamps, clothes, pots and pans, and toilet paper. She grew her own tobacco, cultivated her own teas, and lived close to the land, drawing upon berries, plants, fish and deer for her survival. She also had a garden that usually provided her with more food than she could use, and she canned a lot.
Her property was one of the most highly desired pieces of allotted Indian land on the reservation and Klamath River. So there was always someone trying to buy it from her at a steal, or tying to intimidate her to sell or threatening to take it from her. But she always stood her ground. Because of her reputation as a Medicine Women, and maybe due to her choice of property, the different local church representatives were always trying to get Grandma to join their denomination.
Grandma Nellie was already mad at the government, the large corporations, and the BIA for ripping hundreds of acres of her land under the notorious 1887 Dawes Act, then the 1934 Indian Reorganization Act, and the so-called state rights of way. She didn't have much tolerance for a group of people who called themselves Christians and who kept pestering her to come to their church services. But one day she decided to take them up on the offer. She went with a group of their congregation to Crescent City and attended their service, supposedly as a guest speaker about the "Indian Religion." As she stood up in front of the congregation she heard the scream of a Hawk. It flew into the church and sat on one of the pew-type chairs. With tears in her eyes she suddenly changed her tone of voice and the topic of her discussion.
"I can't do this. I can't be a part of what you people want me to be. You see the Hawk. It was sent by the Great Creator in the same way that God sent a burning bush to Moses, the Whirlwind to Job, and a Cloud to Noah. These are the religious leaders you teach us about, the ones you claim you learn from. Well, we Indians have our leaders too, and God speaks to us in a mysterious way. I know why you're trying to be nice to me. I am not saying that all of you have bad intentions, but I do want to warn you that all of Nature is witness to your thoughts, actions, and deeds. I cannot change for you so that you will accept me. I cannot and will not give or sell you my land. My ancestors are buried there. It is sacred ground. The old Indian trail that I use for spiritual pilgrimages to Red Mountain, to pray for the people, and speak to the Great Creator is on that land. It starts from my house and it is full of spirits, or what you white people call angels. But now I know why I finally agreed to come here. I came to bring you a message. You say that the book you study and believe in, The Bible, is the word of God? Why don't you follow it? We Indians are different than you people. We are not what you call hypocrites. Our women do not attend religious services whey they are on their moontime, their monthly cycles. That is against the Indian custom and laws, the Natural laws, and the Creator's Laws. Isn't that same law in your holy book? Isn't that same law all around the world in all cultures? You can't hide from the Moon. She sees everything. You can't change the law by calling it a curse, or demon worship, when it is a sacred and holy time for women. Your ways are destroying our Indian ways and the Earth along with it. You are creating imbalance and a lot of sickness. And in the future, a lot of strange and terrible diseases will come from problems with blood. So be forewarned.
"I want to leave now. I want to go back to my home where things are not so strange to me. There I can pray and feel good about it. But I tell you this. I had a dream. The great water serpent from the Klamoth River came and talked to me. He said he is angry at what people are doing to his home. Cutting all the trees, destroying the land, trying to catch all the fish and sell them without following ceremony. He said people are no longer following the old ways by making payment to him and the Creator. He doesn't like the way our Indian people make a mockery of the ancient and sacred dances by coming there drunk, women on their moontime, and everyone throwing garbage all over the sacred grounds. So he said the Great Creator is going to send him down the river to purify it, by the next full moon."
Grandma Nellie then went home and prayed. She went into the forest and found a small sacred tree, the dogwood, and did a ceremony on it. She took the sapling down to the front yard of her house, facing the river. She faced upriver, then downriver. She offered her pipe and tobacco and prayed to the water serpent: "I am an old lady, this is all I have left. My ancestors are buried here. I have food planted here. I respect everything here. To me the land is sacred. The river is sacred, and we cannot live without it. That is why I pray to the Great Creator and all my relations here this morning at sunrise and every evening at sunset. Now I offer tobacco to the Moon, the spirit of the river, the water serpent, and all my relations. I cry out to the Great Creator and say thank you for the dream and warning. I ask that you not hurt me or my people. I plant this sacred tree here, in this spot, only ten yards from the front door of my house. Do not let the water go any further than this."
A few days later, in 1964, a flood raged down the mightly Klamath River. It devastated the entire area, taking away homes, livestock, and human life on both sides of the river. It flooded Crescent City and destroyed the church in which Grandma Nellie had stood just a few days before. It was the worst flood ever recorded in California history. My Grandma Nellie is now dead and buried at the old village site. As you get out of the boat and begin to walk up to the old trail, leading up the side of a steep bank toward the old farmhouse, you can see that a flood had hit the place at one time. The first house on the trail is totally destroyed, with only bits and pieces of wood scattered around an old foundation. The second house, halfway up the trail, is mostly filled with mud on the inside. The third house, where Grandma Nellie lived, is still standing. It is wedged between five trees. The water did not go any higher than the sapling she planted, and you can see that it has now grown into a young tree."--Tela Star Hawk Lake The Last Female Shaman
The last I heard, the BIA is trying to divide the property up among all the different grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and as a result nobody can live on the land.
When I heard this story, it touched me very deeply. My own granfather once told us, "some people always have to have someone else to look down on, to make themselves feel better, more important." In my mind, Grandma Nellie was special, not only in her abilities as a Medicine Women, but in her devotion to her life, her ways. We should all live as Grandma Nellie did, in pure honesty, devotion and strength. Live with the Three R's: Respect, Relationship and Reciprocity...........live in kindness.
Grandma Nellie, as everyone called her, lived across the Klamoth river on Blue Creek. The only way you could get to her house was by a long journey through the ancient redwoods, through the prairies to the river, then across by boat. It was a very dangerous section of the mightly Klamath River where Blue Creek, which ran down from the saced High Country mountains, merged into the river. Blue Creek is still the purest, clearest, and most beautiful creek in the Yurok tribal territory.
Grandma Nellie was both a Seer and a Ceremonial Medicine Women. She healed with herbs, was considered clairvoyant because she could see into the future with accuracy, and she could find lost objects and lost people. She was able to solve murder cases, tell people's fortunes, and could read people's minds. That is why a lot of people feared her and why she lived alone, across the river, up on the side of the forested small mountain that eventually leads up to the higher mountains known as the Siskiyous.
The old farmhouse that was built years ago still stands there, and behind it you can find the traditional Yurok-style, redwood plank house our people lived in for centuries before European influence. Grandma used the old style Indian house to dry, sort, and store her herbs and as a place of meditation and prayer. Not too far from it was also the old-style, semi-subterranean, sacred sweatlodge she had used for doctoring hard cases, and the old salmon-fish smoke house that she used for making salmon strips, deer jerky, and smoked eels. She did not have electricity, modern plumbing, or conveniences. She had an old outhouse, a water system in the house based on gravitational flow, and an old wood heater for the kitchen and front room.
For years she lived all by herself in the old house, at the old village site. Different relations would come to visit and bring her food and some modern supplies like kerosene for the lamps, clothes, pots and pans, and toilet paper. She grew her own tobacco, cultivated her own teas, and lived close to the land, drawing upon berries, plants, fish and deer for her survival. She also had a garden that usually provided her with more food than she could use, and she canned a lot.
Her property was one of the most highly desired pieces of allotted Indian land on the reservation and Klamath River. So there was always someone trying to buy it from her at a steal, or tying to intimidate her to sell or threatening to take it from her. But she always stood her ground. Because of her reputation as a Medicine Women, and maybe due to her choice of property, the different local church representatives were always trying to get Grandma to join their denomination.
Grandma Nellie was already mad at the government, the large corporations, and the BIA for ripping hundreds of acres of her land under the notorious 1887 Dawes Act, then the 1934 Indian Reorganization Act, and the so-called state rights of way. She didn't have much tolerance for a group of people who called themselves Christians and who kept pestering her to come to their church services. But one day she decided to take them up on the offer. She went with a group of their congregation to Crescent City and attended their service, supposedly as a guest speaker about the "Indian Religion." As she stood up in front of the congregation she heard the scream of a Hawk. It flew into the church and sat on one of the pew-type chairs. With tears in her eyes she suddenly changed her tone of voice and the topic of her discussion.
"I can't do this. I can't be a part of what you people want me to be. You see the Hawk. It was sent by the Great Creator in the same way that God sent a burning bush to Moses, the Whirlwind to Job, and a Cloud to Noah. These are the religious leaders you teach us about, the ones you claim you learn from. Well, we Indians have our leaders too, and God speaks to us in a mysterious way. I know why you're trying to be nice to me. I am not saying that all of you have bad intentions, but I do want to warn you that all of Nature is witness to your thoughts, actions, and deeds. I cannot change for you so that you will accept me. I cannot and will not give or sell you my land. My ancestors are buried there. It is sacred ground. The old Indian trail that I use for spiritual pilgrimages to Red Mountain, to pray for the people, and speak to the Great Creator is on that land. It starts from my house and it is full of spirits, or what you white people call angels. But now I know why I finally agreed to come here. I came to bring you a message. You say that the book you study and believe in, The Bible, is the word of God? Why don't you follow it? We Indians are different than you people. We are not what you call hypocrites. Our women do not attend religious services whey they are on their moontime, their monthly cycles. That is against the Indian custom and laws, the Natural laws, and the Creator's Laws. Isn't that same law in your holy book? Isn't that same law all around the world in all cultures? You can't hide from the Moon. She sees everything. You can't change the law by calling it a curse, or demon worship, when it is a sacred and holy time for women. Your ways are destroying our Indian ways and the Earth along with it. You are creating imbalance and a lot of sickness. And in the future, a lot of strange and terrible diseases will come from problems with blood. So be forewarned.
"I want to leave now. I want to go back to my home where things are not so strange to me. There I can pray and feel good about it. But I tell you this. I had a dream. The great water serpent from the Klamoth River came and talked to me. He said he is angry at what people are doing to his home. Cutting all the trees, destroying the land, trying to catch all the fish and sell them without following ceremony. He said people are no longer following the old ways by making payment to him and the Creator. He doesn't like the way our Indian people make a mockery of the ancient and sacred dances by coming there drunk, women on their moontime, and everyone throwing garbage all over the sacred grounds. So he said the Great Creator is going to send him down the river to purify it, by the next full moon."
Grandma Nellie then went home and prayed. She went into the forest and found a small sacred tree, the dogwood, and did a ceremony on it. She took the sapling down to the front yard of her house, facing the river. She faced upriver, then downriver. She offered her pipe and tobacco and prayed to the water serpent: "I am an old lady, this is all I have left. My ancestors are buried here. I have food planted here. I respect everything here. To me the land is sacred. The river is sacred, and we cannot live without it. That is why I pray to the Great Creator and all my relations here this morning at sunrise and every evening at sunset. Now I offer tobacco to the Moon, the spirit of the river, the water serpent, and all my relations. I cry out to the Great Creator and say thank you for the dream and warning. I ask that you not hurt me or my people. I plant this sacred tree here, in this spot, only ten yards from the front door of my house. Do not let the water go any further than this."
A few days later, in 1964, a flood raged down the mightly Klamath River. It devastated the entire area, taking away homes, livestock, and human life on both sides of the river. It flooded Crescent City and destroyed the church in which Grandma Nellie had stood just a few days before. It was the worst flood ever recorded in California history. My Grandma Nellie is now dead and buried at the old village site. As you get out of the boat and begin to walk up to the old trail, leading up the side of a steep bank toward the old farmhouse, you can see that a flood had hit the place at one time. The first house on the trail is totally destroyed, with only bits and pieces of wood scattered around an old foundation. The second house, halfway up the trail, is mostly filled with mud on the inside. The third house, where Grandma Nellie lived, is still standing. It is wedged between five trees. The water did not go any higher than the sapling she planted, and you can see that it has now grown into a young tree."--Tela Star Hawk Lake The Last Female Shaman
The last I heard, the BIA is trying to divide the property up among all the different grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and as a result nobody can live on the land.
When I heard this story, it touched me very deeply. My own granfather once told us, "some people always have to have someone else to look down on, to make themselves feel better, more important." In my mind, Grandma Nellie was special, not only in her abilities as a Medicine Women, but in her devotion to her life, her ways. We should all live as Grandma Nellie did, in pure honesty, devotion and strength. Live with the Three R's: Respect, Relationship and Reciprocity...........live in kindness.
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Tela Star Hawk Lake,
The Three R's
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