What just happened?

So that was weird.

Now we are in an Earthship out in the middle of the sage, soaking up the sun...those healing rays. Let's just say the last few months were a test of the mountain, and let's agree that if we look at it from a spiritual perspective, it was one major lesson in creation and psychic vampirism (more on that later).

So, now, the chickens and the llamas and the dogs and the kids all have a place to run and romp and be who they are. We are indeed lucky to have found this place...or to have this place find us. The owner of this magnificent house lives in Australia and has agreed to rent it to us at a price we can afford. Remarkable. Thanks A.

And, when we were moving in, some guys from Earthship Biotecture were out working on the windows...replacing some rotted trim boards and replacing the flashing. Very nice and helpful guys who understand my love of the Earthship. Now...this is more like it, I have to say, and these are more like-minded people, and everything is going to be just fine now.

Earthship kitchen

The sage is grounding. The house is grounding with mud floors and earth plastered walls. I sit in my big old arm chair facing the windows and watch the sky. A lot. I watch the clouds come and go. I wait for the sun in the morning and wait for the darkness in the evening. This is the most wonderful and beautiful place.

Living room mud floor with rock left in...very grounding.

The house is heated by the sun. There is one wood stove in the living room and we have used it several times, especially when the snow storms move in. The day time temperatures get up to about 85 F in the house and down to around 60F at night. It is a perpetual summer place. It took about a week to acclimatize, but now, we are all adapted. It is like those hot summer days and cool summer nights and I swear I feel like I'm camping again, or living in my tent (archaeology field school, summer 2000). I take showers in the sunshine...in the south facing bathroom with windows looking out at the sage and the mountains in the background. We had to buy a stock water dish for the kids to take a bath...there is no bathtub in this water conscious house.

Little boy in the bath.

The house sits on 20 acres in a sustainable community (although I think the residents might have some differing opinions about the definition of sustainable). The house relies completely on solar energy for power, and although the system was recently updated and probably adequate for commuters, we have lost power twice, during two periods of cloudy days. Richard's work computer is an energy hog, but we are lucky he gets to work from home. So we sacrifice. I don't use any electricity at night when he's working. We light the house by candles and battery run camp lanterns. We hardly ever watched TV anyway, so that was easy to abandon. All of the electrical appliances are a no-no, unless we really need that Kitchen Aid, which we can run in the middle of  the day with full sun shining. Mostly, we enjoy the natural beauty and try to get by. The stove and hot water are on propane...there's a tank behind the house. And we are lucky to have a septic system in our off-grid house.

Solar panels behind E-ship

We are learning. And, we are searching for our own piece of affordable land to build our own off-grid house. I'm still having trouble trying to find a place big enough to have the animals and keep nosy neighbors minding their own business. What is with people? Bored? There was a rumor our chickens were too loud...the nearest house is what 20, 30 acres away? Whatever. Release and move on.

Coop with E-ship in background

Richard built a passive solar coop for the chickens. We are trying to downsize our flock as there doesn't seem to be the interest in eggs here that there was in our small community in Colorado.

There is a little snake that lives above the front door. It turns out there are at least two...I saw them yesterday...two little heads poking out, they just hang out and watch and smell with their little red tongues. I think they are bull snakes or maybe garter snakes. I can't ever really see enough to tell for sure. They are pretty small. The snake represents healing and transformation. We are okay with them living up there. They are the guardians of this house...here before we came.

There are also two ravens that hang out in the south meadow. Magic and creation. It is all good here.

Now, we conserve energy like crazy. We came in with our freezer (unplugged after first power outage) and our big fridge (unplugged after second power outage) and now we use the little two compressor energy Vestfrost fridge that was here. It isn't big enough, but we are learning. We keep a lot of food in the pantry...potatoes, apples, tomatoes, jars of pickles, and our jars of flours around the corner from the kitchen (it gets too hot), and our bread in a drawer under the cabinets. Richard goes out and manually moves the solar panels with the sun every few hours to get the maximum input. And we are researching and talking with our landlord about more solar panels and possible a wind turbine. If he's not up to it, but lets us install them, we can always take them with us when we move to our own piece of land and build our own off-grid house.

We also conserve water like mad. The house is on two cisterns from water catchment off the roof. We have reduced our showers and baths down to about twice a week.

Perpetual camping. We are tuning to the rhythms of the house and the rhythms of nature, as Michael Reynolds, the designer of Earthships (and yes, he designed, but did not build, this house we are in) intended. These are houses for "direct living" as he explains in his A Comimg of Wizards book (very good, spiritual book, by-the-way) and an opportunity for people to live simpler, get closer to nature and evolve into the spiritual beings we are. Wonderful.

I am in love with this house and the landscape surrounding it. And now, we are living more responsibly, being the change, and reducing our carbon footprint by remarkable amounts. So glad to be here and thankful every single day!

Moving back to Toas...the Universe is talking to me

My own silence weighs on me with the burden of a necessary self-examination. Trust your intuition, even if it appears there are no options. When your body and emotions are telling you something is not right, when your kids are acting crazier than normal, and your dog/puppy has turned into a psychotic attack dog, when your house plants are suddenly all sick and dying, and the recently (past two and a half years) quiet parrot has started screaming like a banshee again, when you're afraid to go outside and feel like a prisoner in a strange house, maybe it's time to listen to what the Universe is saying.

We moved the farm to New Mexico over the past two months. We are just outside of Taos in a place that is not unfamiliar, but strange with the taint of money. Is all of Taos like this? I just don't remember. Maybe I didn't care.

Tipped trailer, surprisingly not damaged...except the hitch.

On the move, I wrecked the trailer on La Veta Pass...flipped it on its side on a patch of ice...thought I was going to flip the car too, but managed not to. And as we came to a stop facing the wrong direction on the wrong side of the road, facing the guard rail a few feet away, my adrenaline shooting through my veins, it did not occur to me how close to death I had brought my children and myself, but how that damn pass seemed to have it in for me. It was on the other side, heading up from Taos that I hit a deer some years ago and trashed the front end of my Xterra to the tune of five grand. Lucky for me no one was hurt in either of my La Veta Pass adventures, but I sure have a hard time driving through there now without a full blown panic attack coming on.

E-ship shell, sage and Taos Mountain

But now we have landed in northern NM and the weekend we had to build a chicken coop was one of the coldest all year. The arrangement we have now puts the llamas and chickens some miles away at another property until we can build them fences and shelters here near the house we are renting. They are in the shell of a burned out Earthship on the north side of Taos, but you can't see them from anywhere, unless you are really looking for them.

Passive solar chicken coop in Earthship shell

We managed to get the coop built and everyone arranged, but it still took several lights for warmth and a few weeks for our hens to start laying normally again. I guess they are traumatized too. We did lose a few to coyotes, I'm guessing. All we found was a mess of feathers that might have once belonged to one of the four missing hens. Now, the chickens are guarded by llamas who are enclosed with electric wire.

Nothing is ideal, but we are getting by. We have found a few egg customers already and Richard touched base with some old co-workers at the Corps.

Taos is Taos...so much the same but with more people now. There are places built up here too, just like in the big cities. There are kiddie car shopping carts here too, but some of these have their own bumper stickers, reminding the young drivers to treat everyone with kindness. There is an Occupy Movement here too, but I have not met anyone or gotten involved yet. It seems I'm too caught up in the drama of my own life. I was reading Howard Zinn's A Peoples History of the United States... and got way too angry with the founding peoples of America to continue, convinced that we are now in some strange tenant farmer situation, and I'm angry and disappointed at the elitist, judgmental folks who run the world. (Yes, I have been examining my anger issues and trying to release my need to draw these situations into my life.) It would seem that 1% of the white and powerful, the rich and corrupt, have been doing bad in this country since it's very beginning.

I am driven more than ever now to find a community of like-minded folks who want to be the positive change this planet needs to survive the coming downfall of the powerful American reign. I think a lot of the west gorge area and the mesa where people seem to make their own rules. I long to meet and talk with some of these open minded folks to see how their community differs so vastly from the mainstream world where resources are hoarded and people are exploited to gain more.

We are still searching for our piece of land to build our little sustainable farm, and I'm afraid that the place we are now is not really doable for more than the very short term. It is an emotional minefield of some variety, and the energy is wrong. I'd love to have some peace and not have to worry about my dogs and where Richard left something, and how the llamas and chickens are so far away.

Since we moved into this house, I have been dreaming of Paris. Weird. At night I dream of moving to France...packing, getting on a plane, making all of the arrangements. Can't figure it out. When we lived in Portland, Oregon for a total of four miserable months, I dreamed of Africa. I never did figure that out either, but I'm guessing it has something to do with being in an unhappy situation and looking for a way out.

I certainly don't want to offend anyone, and hope I don't, but when the kids, the dogs, the bird, the houseplants and my dreams are all telling me that something is not right, shouldn't I do something about it?

Maybe the Mountain is testing me again. But you know what...I won't be chased off this time. It doesn't even matter. I won't go back to a house that is on the verge of falling into an old mine shaft because of earth tremors caused by fracking. No way.

I made it back to my beloved NM and I'm not leaving. Stay tuned though. We may end up out in the sage sooner rather than later.

This is my new kitchen view.

An Arroyo Seco sunset through trees...another view  from the house.

Nothing beats a New Mexican sunset when the sky is on fire and the day goes out like a fresh painting. I have come home to the land of art, where every scene is a magnificent creation by the Master Artist.

Taos Time

Got Taos on the mind, like some old lover that won't let me forget, singing some desert serenade, urging me to fall in love again.

On May 13 of 2002, I sat in my pretty, little, black Neon, smoking a cigarette, staring out into the weirdness that is Taos, and wrote this short poem. My 2000 Neon was my writing studio, my personal space, my little Frogger, hopping across roads to deliver pizzas (until R drove it over a hill and put a hole in the floorboard...it still ran, but it was tainted by a man's harsh handling, scarred by a unconsciousness that didn't understand that by loaning my little car, I was entrusting him with a piece of me.)

                                                 

Taos

Wildlife in the yard—

A black and white magpie,

Three red-breasted sparrows,

And a big wolf dog

Wandering by.

Wildness in mountain time 

Where nothing is quite right.

Peculiar smallness-

A place where free spirits still walk

Half-dressed down the street.

Magpies walk,

Wolf dogs talk

And music from the heart

Resonates with the sunshine

In time to the wind chimes

That hum with the breeze.

-K.A.Bennett 2002

Taos was my muse, as it seems to be with so many people, and although I lived a lonely life there, my creativity blossomed in words and in paint, in photographs and in ideas, and maybe that was the gift the Mountain gave to me. As I read of Taos now, and see photographs of latilla fences and old adobes, I think of how much I miss her, that old town that I drove around delivering pizzas into the night, dodging dogs chasing me and biting at the tires of my car, trying to decipher houses without addresses and streets without signs (they have those now!). What an adventure the Taos days were, and had R been the person then that he has become today, perhaps we could have stayed and the Mountain would not have laughed us out of her shadow.

Maybe it isn't too late. Or maybe it is. Is there an adobe in my future yet? 

I miss the sage like I could never imagine. Lately it consumes me...my longing for the open sky and the scraggly sagebrush that is my soul mate. The closed minds that surround me in this right wing town beg me to recall a different time, and a different mind, a younger me, someone free, not bound and constrained by the conformity all around, and by the system I live in. I want to be free again. I hear the desert calling again. It is almost time to go back home again. The sage is singing and the wind whispers my name.