Resurrection

Sand Hill Cranes, Monte Vista Wildlife Refuge, March 2015

We went to see the Sand Hill Cranes yesterday. What a remarkable thing. The fields full of dancing, talking birds never ceases to amaze me. And I still want to fly south with them....

Sand Hill Cranes in Monte Vista

I had an epiphany in the midst of my Grad school angst. While I realize now I will never have what it takes to be a full time shovel bum, I also realize that my passions to save the planet have remained the same. Through all of my work, I manage to tie in some form of environmentalism or sustainability, because that's who I am. That being said, I am planning on attending an archaeology field school for the summer, but this time on a day basis. There will be no living in a tent for this old woman. I have had enough of primitive off-grid living! I am an expert at hauling water and making do with next to nothing. Actually, for me to attend full time, R would have to quit one, if not two of his jobs and stay home with the kiddos, something we simply can't afford.

So while I whittle away at my classes, we try to dig ourselves out of our financial mess. We paid off the shed/tiny house with our tax refund, but still the dilemma of the county not allowing us to live in it, per county code. Okay, whatever. We have tried to sell the land, pulled back, decided to keep it. I work on my labyrinth and it ties to me to the land in ways I don't even understand. I am at a loss as to what to do, so I will do nothing.

I realized I don't want to give up any more animals, my llamas and my dreams of a farmstead. Why can't we make it work? We have not tried hard enough, not dedicated ourselves to the right cause, being torn between this and that and fantasies of negativity. The world may end. I may die tomorrow, but I want to keep my camelids, regardless of any outside thoughts on the matter. So, I have plans to acquire 3 adult, male alpacas in a rainbow of fiber colors. I want to make felt batting and quilt camelid comforters. Ha ha. No, sort of really. We shall see, we shall see.

I will resurrect the Green Desert Eco-Farm and put the Sanctuary to rest for a little while. Who wants to worship the Earth, besides me? My church of one. I affect change in only myself.

The farm will get a new life! And maybe I will too. We have put a bee hive starter kit on layaway at the local feed/hardware store. I am excited. We can get a colony from a local honey producer after we get our kit paid off. It is vitally important that more people try to keep bees for the Earth. And plant Milkweed for the Monarchs. I'd like to do both.

We also bought a new batch of chicks for the farmstead egg laying endeavor.

Chicks. Reds of some variety. Rhode Island, I'm thinking.

In the next month we will pick up the alpacas and get all of our camelids sheared. That should be fun. An event I have invited the public to attend. That may have been a bad decision, given my love hate relationship with people in general.

The wind is blowing, the weather has warmed and Spring is here. We are trying to get garden space created in this rental house. I am so tired of moving our raised beds around. I am so tired of moving, physically, but intellectually I may always be a nomad. We still need to find a bus to convert.

As usual there is too much to do and not enough time or hands, or money. But, it is what it is and today I live for today. I have started another juice fast. It has been a while and with the new season comes change. I will resurrect old farm dreams and my old strong, healthy self. And it will be good. Or good enough at least.

Grad school

Doing the Grad school thing. Time to...read and that's about it. Richard is also thinking of doing the Grad school thing. I guess he is feeling left out.

Now, there isn't time for much of anything except the day to day stuff and school. Richard is working two jobs as we try to dig out of this financial nightmare we find ourselves in because of the pay cut from his first job. I am still peddling my art.

And that's the news.

I have this crazy idea of moving the shed/tiny house down to the Taos land (none of the land is selling, here or there). Perhaps they are not as code crazy down there where a good percentage of off griders are living in hand-built houses that never were inspected. Most of the houses on the west Mesa are not even supposed to be there...the lots are too small for infrastructure, like septic tanks. But amazingly, people know how to use compost toilets. The volume of "illegal" housing is far too great for the county to assess, let alone come down on. Not that they won't try in upcoming years. It's always a gamble, I suppose.

Still thinking on it. I wonder how hard it would be to relocate the shed with the horrid Taos mud roads? What season should we shoot for? Late spring maybe before the monsoons but after the melt.

As it is, we have lots of time. Grad school is two years and our lease on this rental is through October.

I am still trying to rehome llamas and simplify material possessions. Who knows where we will end up when this crazy Grad school ride ends.

We have to keep adventuring through these hard times. The climate is unpredictable and the imminent methane release in the Arctic is frightening. Time has no value, but it may be short indeed for the human species. Let's all live a little better and love a little more, shall we? By better, I don't mean spend more and collect more crap. Instead, find some spiritual truths and move to higher consciousness. Perhaps we can change the outcome with the unified power of the energetic mind.

New year, new things

Well, it's a new year so new things must be in store.

We are still trying to downsize the farmstead and find homes for our animals. It won't be much of a farmstead then, but it is what it is.

We are growing tomatoes and kale on the sun porch even now, when the outside temps are still in the single digits. Although this week has been amazing, warming up into the 40's F during the day. The tomato plants are starting to bloom.

In just a couple of weeks I will begin the first of my classes towards my Masters in Cultural Resource Management. I have to say I'm excited and a little scared. It has been a long time since I went to college and now, with these two little wild children and their online home school, time is at a premium. But, it shouldn't be any worse than going to college during the day and working all evening, which is what I used to do. How did I ever get anything done?

Richard is so excited about me going to school that he is looking into pursuing his own Masters. A sustainable MBA. That should be interesting. He is working on finding the right program. We shall see. With both of us working on our Masters in our spare time, life is going to get interesting at home. Will there be any time for farming?

I'd sure like to get a nice kitchen garden going this spring and grow enough to put away for the next winter. The past few years have been really tough because we have not had our store of home canned goods that we grew accustomed to. Financially we could have really used those extras.

We are thinking there will be no hemp on the farmstead either as the state raised the registration costs to the point we can no longer afford it. Plus there is the testing fees, if one is lucky enough to be chosen. Let's just count on that. Yeah, we think we will skip the hemp. Too bad too. I have a ton of seeds. Ha. I should just wander and throw them in the wind. Like Johnny Appleseed. That'd get the county and the state all up in arms. Maybe for real. Better not do that then. I don't want to get shot by the law enforcement, which seems to be a real risk these days, although less for me, not being a black male.

We are really considering moving Down East when we finish our new degrees. So, once again I have been browsing the real estate pages. looking at ancient old farmhouses back in the state from which I once originated. They say that they are more likely to accept you there if your family has been there since colonization. Well, my heritage has, but I have not, being raised in my mother's home state of Colorado. I even have rumored ties to the Native American tribes of the north east. If only I could track down my Native heritage. I wonder if they would accept a long lost relative, one without the typical Down East accent it takes a while for outsiders to understand? Maybe you can go home again. Or, maybe not.

I have been a nomad for so long now, where exactly is home?

We are looking at buying a school bus to convert while we get our degrees. Then at least we will have our own home, built by us. I wonder if we could accomplish at least that? Then no matter where we go, we will always be home.

So the land is still for sale. All of it. I am feeling restless, confused, not sure where to be. My heart is breaking with each animal I rehome, but I know it is for the best. I am anticipating good things with the many changes happening now. And while I so want to run south to where the birds overwinter, I also realize that it would probably be best for our future family to go back to the place where I began. If the climate is going to change so drastically in the next few years, we need to be in a more hospitable climate, where the water is plentiful. And who knows, maybe it will warm up enough there that I will be able to tolerate the winters.

Two years is still a long time, especially for us, and a lot can happen. We shall see what the Universe holds for us. And with new degrees, the job opportunities may lead us in entirely different directions than we would ever expect.

Letting go

Chloe left for her new home yesterday down near Belen, NM, a place I have always wanted to go. Today, I miss her little grunts and snorts as I do my chores outside. I hope she finds love and happiness in her new home. There are a couple of potbellied pigs there and some goats and chickens to keep her company. It certainly is warmer down that way, which I am sure she will appreciate.

Frosty the llama has a new home as well, but we will be keeping him here for a few months until his new owners get their alpacas, which he will stand guard over. I don't have to let him go just yet. It is emotionally draining to re-home the animals I love so much.

Things change quickly when you no longer have the income to take care of your homestead. Of course it is never supposed to be this way. The whole point is to become self-sufficient and have to rely less on outside income. As we continue to bounce around from rental to rental, it becomes more unmanageable to work on our land. As it does when you have to work so many hours to make a living. And there just isn't the money for permits and supplies to build. Not now.

I have tried to enlist others to join in our homestead, to create a community, but there isn't enough real interest, and I probably wouldn't really like living so close to other people anyway. Maybe they sense that.

As a result, we have decided to sell our land. We have both properties listed on Craigslist:

http://santafe.craigslist.org/reo/4717093877.html

http://pueblo.craigslist.org/reo/4717075198.html

I have decided to go back to college and pursue my Masters since there is a college in Alamosa that has an online program. I will be studying Cultural Resource Management and hope this degree will enable me to actively defend the historical sites as well as ideas and traditions of indigenous and historical peoples. I start in January.

We are considering another relocation, perhaps somewhere north, although I am still inclined to stay in this area, but a little closer to the mountains. In any case, we have a couple of years to decide as I work my way through Grad School.

There has to be hope. I continue to look for it in the dark corners of this crumbling society and my own crumbling dreams. There is no time to give in or give up.

Old woman in the desert

I thought she would be waiting for me somewhere, the old woman of the desert, the old woman in the soul cards. She was calling me back to the desert, bringing me home, but I haven’t found her yet in my search for the perfect place to be. Wouldn’t it be something if she was waiting somewhere, like the mother I have never known, standing with open arms to embrace me as she whispered “I have been waiting for you, welcome home.” Is it possible that this crone is a future me, leading me back to the place I need to be?

As I grow older, I begin to realize how futile it is to change anyone’s mind, and yet changing their minds is the only hope I have to creating a better world for my children. If we, as a society, do not bridge the gap to our higher selves, we are doomed. Humanity, along with thousands of other species will face extinction as the planet warms to an unlivable climate that no longer supports life as we know it.

I am a mother. I watch my youngest children grow and play, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. How long before that is no longer possible? Will they see the end of human civilization in their lifetimes? Will I see it in mine? I am forty five and by several of the newest scientific predictions, the catastrophic end times may begin as soon as 2030. I may very well still be alive to witness a suffering of life that we can only imagine.

I am also a shamanic healer and I notice the shamans are witnessing a dark shadow falling upon the earth that no one can explain. Is this darkness a reflection of the human condition? In America, it would appear that people are sleepwalking, already the zombies they love to fear in the coming dark times. I fear my older children are already lost, victims of consumerism and a mainstream mindset that may cost them their lives.

We are a nation with blood on our hands. Our government has trained living beings to be brainwashed killers against people they do not know. It’s all in the name of what they like to call terrorism. And yet, the terror perpetrated upon this earth is mostly by an imperialist mindset, a holy manifest destiny that America hides behind its patriotism and consumerism. It is this way of thinking that is killing the earth and it is this stubborn close mindedness that will lead us all to an unhappy and miserable end.

No, I can’t seem to change their minds. I try. They argue. They call me names. They disown me. But the last thing they are willing to consider is how their own beliefs and behaviors are creating this sickening spiral, sucking everything into its path, creating a black hole, the likes of which we have never seen before. Perhaps it is this darkness that is reflecting back at us. Maybe it is this shadow of our own hatred, racism, greed and fear that hovers over our Mother Earth, threatening to engulf her in the filth of negativity.

I was recently accepted into Grad School. At my age, I am going back to further my degree so that I can spend the remainder of my life trying harder to convince them to change their minds. I am a mother. I have to try as hard as I can to make this world a safe and livable place for my children and for all children. As parents, we have betrayed our youth, taught them to compete in a dying world for things that do not matter, when instead we should be teaching them to love and nourish a planet that keeps them alive.

As a parent, I can only say I am sorry I did not begin this fight earlier. I should have been trying to change their minds a long time ago, instead of trying to fit into a culture I don’t belong to. I have wasted a lot of time, distracted by shiny things, but now that I have awakened, I can’t just turn it off and go back to the illusion and delusion that is the American way of life. It no longer exists. The empire is toppling and it will drag down every single person who is not paying attention.

The last grab of resources by greedy corporate hands is their last resort to try to fill their coffers to the brim. They have to get it while they can, not realizing nor caring that these resources they pull from the bowels of Mother Earth are her very life blood, and ours too, as her children. Nature sustains us and when we destroy the earth, we destroy ourselves and our home.

Is there any hope then, when the masses do not listen and do not care? They pretend to care, but they are more concerned with who is right and who is wrong, the color of skin, the lines of ownership. They are defined by their stuff and their loyalty to a country that would destroy the entire world population to retain its power and control over the very resources that are creating an inhabitable home for all of us. It just doesn’t make any sense.

I can’t change their minds. Or can I? A spiritual master once said that once we awakened, it was our obligation to awaken others around us and that if we had reached just one other person, we had done something meaningful. In that light, it is all I can do to keep talking, to keep shouting, to keep making noise in the hope that someone, anyone, will shake their head free of the cobwebs of conformity and look around at this mess before us. We have so much work to do and there is so little time.

I am a mother. But I am also a spiritual being placed in this body at this time to accomplish something. This is my something. My father always told me I had a big mouth, and that used to make me cry. Not now, not anymore. My voice is my gift and I will use it until I can no longer speak or write or create. I will be the voice of nature, of Mother Earth and the creatures who call her home. I will be the voice of a humanity, so caught up in its own ego, it can’t see it has cut off its nose to spite its face.

And the old woman in the desert? I will meet her one day, of this I am certain. I can only hope that when she asks, I can tell her I did my best, I fought the good fight, and I gave my everything to saving Mother Earth in the hope that humanity could continue on. That is my duty and my legacy. How does this story turn out? It’s hard to say. In thirty years we can look back and say, it was  a good thing we woke up in time, or too bad we missed our window of opportunity. Which will it be?