Our Handmade Life

Josh Builds a Chicken Coop!

This was actually the title of my last ramble, in which I meant to extol the virtues of living more sustainably and then move on to our fabulous Cluckingham Palace, but I guess I had a lot more to say about freedom than I thought, so here we are a week later and I'm dying to share the family coop!

One thing I love about my husband, general hotness aside, is how open he is to anything he views as a growing experience. I think this was a dangerous tendency through his teenage years, but these days he's more focused on poultry than testing the limits of the law for his life lessons, which suits me! Our beloved friend Wade has had a life long love affair with foul of every shape and size, so much that he brings to mind the Muppet Gonzo and his life partner Camilla (though Wade's life partner is a lovely human being named Angela, who does not in any way resemble a giant white chicken). It took exactly one sunny afternoon in Wade's back yard (a near chicken utopia) to inspire Josh to create one of our own, and he got started the next day. That's how it works at our house, one day you're buying eggs from the store, the next day all but back yard grown eggs are banished forever and a tiny barn structure is being erected where once there was a hammock. I enjoy the abrupt changes myself, they're entertaining and usually sensible.

Josh's DIY Fly-By-the-Seat-of-His-Pants Project:

(Aka, you can build your own chicken coop too)!

Step 1: Know your options. Of course our first course of poultry action was to hit farm stores and craigslist to purchase ourselves a simple structure for chicken housing. (It should have been to check the local laws about chicken zoning, so be sure to do that before erecting a new neighborhood in your back yard). It took us all of about two hours to learn that commercial chicken coops are generally tiny, flimsy, and unjustifiably expensive. The store-boughten varieties were the worst offenders, starting out around $500 for a coop I could literally fit in my closet (and my closet is the tiny old kind in a tiny attic). The homemade craigslist versions were a little bigger and a little cheaper, but we're still talking pretty flimsy and starting at around $200. Nope, not for us, thank you!

Step 2: Draw up plans and gather your supplies. Unless you went with the buying option and already have your coop ready to go (and good for you if that works, we're just way to cheap for that route!), it's time to make your plans, and for that you must know what you're working with. Josh took about 5 minutes to draw up our plans, a chicken coop not being the most complicated of structures. We'd wanted originally to be married in a big old barn, so Josh figured the next best thing would be to build one in our back yard since he was going to build something anyway. He sketched out his barn and off he went to collect lumber. Now, if you're going to buy all your wood new, you might find that buying a craigslist coop will cost you about the same and save you a week of labor. If you like things to be free like we do, the world is abundant with enough scrap wood to build a small structure if you just keep an eye out for it. Josh found a great pile of old wood from a stripped privacy fence, loaded it up, and piled it that night in our back yard.

Step 3: Find your power tools and get to building! Even the building phase of this project didn't require much in the way of resources. We had a basic electric round blade saw, a hammer and nails, tape measure, and a staple gun. Josh sunk four 2x4's into the ground measured out at the width of the coop he wanted to build, then cut a piece of plywood for the floor and braced it into place with scrap lumber underneath, so that there was an inverted peace sign at the base of each corner of the coop floor. Next he decided the height he'd like for the walls (based in part on how much wood we had to work with), measured and marked his lengths on the boards, and got to cutting. On the already standing four corner 2x4's, he nailed cross beams for support and once all the wall pieces were cut (which took the better part of a day), he nailed each one into place on the new structure lickety-split, like a tiny Amish barn raising. He even included spaces for windows, doors, and a hinged wall for egg collection in his measurements, and then just pieced it all together as if it had come in a kit.

Step 4: The finishing touches... Lest you think we are just super-human and that this project isn't for you, I must share that the building part of the coop took several days, and there was a lot of cursing at times when Josh realized he'd measured something wrong, or that things weren't going as smoothly as planned. Once the big structure was up, it just needed its surrounding wall of chicken wire, some adorable little hinged doors for closing in the chickens and for our own desired cuteness factor, and of course, a roof. The doors were easy and made from the left over scraps of bigger wood, and popped on with hinges in the course of a morning. The windows were covered with chicken wire, and in the winter we nail a real antique wood-framed window over the space for warmth. The roof was made from a few simple pieces of scrapped corrugated tin that Josh found who knows where, cut and bent to the shape we needed and nailed heavily into place. A slatted board run up to the chicken door was the last piece to go into place, until I found Josh outside in the twilight building them a little chicken balcony for added ambiance. He just couldn't resist.

Step 5: Reap your rewards! For the week of labor we (mostly Josh) put into this project, we saved several hundred dollars and got what I'm pretty sure is the coolest chicken shack ever. I'm positive our chickens brag to the other winged creatures about it, and rightly so. Now that you've got your coop all set up and ready (you've been stopping to follow my every instruction, right?), it's time for the fun part! Pull out some paint and decorate! Buy yourself a bail of hay (less than $10) and fill your coop and nesting boxes with its sweet fluffy goodness! Toss in some chickens, and start eating home-grown eggs! They taste great, you know they're good for you, they come from happy animals whose names you know, and you get to collect them yourself. which is the funnest part of all!

Also, if you're anything like me, you acqure a bonnet and apron for your egg collecting, and wear them out to spread feed and hay when no one else is home to see since they keep telling you it's silly. Shh. That part is our secret...

Freedom is, in Fact, Free

    The idea of freedom has been on my mind lately. It started out that way because I'm hearing the word bandied about lately in political debates as if A.) my freedom were under constant dire threat from every direction at all times, and B.) my personal freedom to do anything I want must surely supersede my desire to have a healthy planet or body, or to live in a peaceful world. I'm getting the impression that a depressing LOT of people think that freedom has something to do with owning a gun, getting to be publicly racist/sexist/classist/homophobic without any hindrance or even feedback, or being able to pollute the air and water or exploit other people or resources to the breaking point, just because it might be what I want to do. I am baffled by this. Certainly I want to have the right to own a gun, whether or not I have one, to speak freely even if my ideas are controversial, and even to engage with my planet on my own terms (though for me that means using a composting toilet even if the city finds it uncouth).

    While I am finding my "American freedoms" to be somewhat curbed of late (thank you, Patriot Act), I don't feel concerned that overall my "freedom" is largely threatened by politicians or "terrorists" out to get me. I know that gun control will never eliminate arms in our country, and that people who spew hate will be allowed to continue to do so, and it seems obvious to me that all the ruckus over these issues is no more than a bunch of nasty fear mongering put out by people who think I must be stupid enough to exchange my own strength and freedom for actions based on fear.

    So when I say freedom has been on my mind, I mean the word has almost lost all meaning in the public discourse and its overuse has started to irritate me.  Still, when we strip away its social connotations, what could be more important than freedom? What could be a more essential core value? And if freedom to me is not the power to wield my every whim like a fist against my neighbors, then what is it? I've spent several nights in a wrestling match with this question, and here is what I have come to:

    There was a time not long ago, when people lived perfectly normal and happy lives without cars, or televisions, or even electricity. I'm not hearkening back to the "good old days" in a nostalgic sense, I am pointing out that for most of history, people were not chained to an intense barrage of monthly bills which, if not paid, threatened an abrupt removal of services that suddenly we feel we literally cannot LIVE without. While I appreciate modern conveniences, our adjustment to electricity has created a cycle in which, if we do not pay the utility company an exorbitant fee every month on their tight schedule, they will cut off our access to light, heat, entertainment, and the ability to store and prepare our food. And we are terrified of this loss? We really believe that without these thugs help, we will starve to death in the dark if we don't freeze or die of boredom first! And yet our grandparents had light, heat, entertainment, and healthier food than we have, without a single coal fired power plant chuffling away and demanding half our income every month. The same can be said of the advent of cars, and plenty of other products we now find indispensable, and that we now make life-long payments for.

    So who cares whether or not I have the "freedom" to own a gun, if I can't disentangle myself from the job I hate because I will die without the benevolent monthly bill of City Utilities? What does my "freedom" to do whatever I want matter, if all I can do at the end of a day is collapse in front of the TV, because I'm so exhausted and spiritually beaten down from trying to pay for my car and convenience food and the new stuff the commercials tell me to want? Is slavery to monthly bills and the media push to consume some component of my innate "freedom" that I don't know about? Despite this foundation of being chained to a job/financial cycle/culture, am I somehow truely free because I can still buy a gun or flap my exhausted mouth if I want to? I'm not convinced that I am. I am convinced that if freedom is my goal, and it seems to be everyone's goal these days, then the only way to achieve it is to create my own life by cutting myself away from the one that was laid out for me by unimaginable wealthy people who would like to siphon off the little resources I have until I am nothing but a leftover husk.

    When I think of life in this way, handmaking my clothes isn't just a pleasant creative outlet, or a way to express my quirkiness and save a few bucks, it is an exercise in freedom, not just in not dumping my money into a bottomless money spending cycle, but a practice of saying "I don't even want what you're selling me, and I'm not buying it." Growing our food becomes not just a great and inexpensive way to eat well, it is a real and concrete step toward actual freedom, and a disentanglement with a system that would feed me expensive processed crap that will land me at the doctor's office with another bill from him. This is real freedom, the kind that is each of our birth-right, the kind toward which we should be striving, and the kind I wish people were talking about when they wave their flags and cast their votes, either with their ballots or with their dollars spent. This is the kind of freedom I seek, and this is the kind of freedom a hand made life affords.

    Do I still own a car? I do. I live in a city where it would be hard not to, though that's not an excuse, and scooter ownership is on my list of long term goals. Do I still have city utilities? For now, though that is changing too, and I'll talk more about that later. If a shift in consciousness is the first step, then I am well on my path. I don't suggest we all turn Amish (ok, I would LOVE that, but I'm not insisting on it), but we can learn to live with a LOT less, and the less we need, the more truly free we are.

    Every time I hang my laundry on the line, or light a kerosene lamp, or pick up a book rather than a remote, I am more free. Every time I stitch up a new dress and enjoy the compliments I get for something I made rather than bought, I better know my own strength in the world. Every time you take the stairs rather than the elevator, pull a carrot from your own yard, or learn to change your tire yourself, you bolster your own freedom... enough time on the internet, let's go get our needles or hammers and get to work!

In the Water and Of the Water, Part II

 

    You might recall from my last post, my direction to be "In and of the water." I really did love the poetic sound of that statement, which became a mantra in my head that has yet to leave. I love the sound and suggestion of it, reminding me of things both spiritual and elemental, reminding me to be grounded and cool-- a balance definitely needed for my normally up-in-the-air fiery self. I enjoyed the week or so between my first hearing that and my self-imposed Lick Creek baptism, in which I felt an almost physical pull to stop my car at every creek and plunge myself into the babbling water, regardless of how questionably dirty and snake ridden that water might be. By every "eastern medicine" account, I am an earth-fire-air girl, with almost no water in my make-up. This philosophy has born out in real life, as I almost never get thirsty, almost never sweat, and am a little catlike in my avoidance of anything bath or shower related. (Yes, I clean myself, but having to get wet is a battle of will every time). So this new draw to the water was a refreshing shift for me, and the words made it feel like a sacred call, which added an enjoyable tinge of drama to my sudden need for creek dunking.

    Certainly, my pull toward this cleansing ritual was born in me for a reason, and answered some need that existed inside myself. I can't tell you the relief I felt when I finally did immerse myself in a naturally flowing waterway, and the one I hold most dear at that! Upon returning 100 miles to home that baptism evening, I pulled out of the closet a painting I'd done years ago, a 5x7 foot watercolor of myself wading into that very same creek, that I had then called "Baptism," and that had been rolled up and collecting dust for some time. I've posted it above so that you can see what I saw. My hair that day was braided just as I'd painted it, and of course I was wearing the same outfit which was nothing at all, the only thing one is expected to wear at Lick Creek :). One could say that my soul foresaw years ago just such a day as the one I'd just had, or that my mind had latched on to something I'd dreamt up as a younger girl and finally acted on it. Either way the result was the same, it was exactly what I needed.

    It was also, I think, the least of what I was supposed to get from this new focus on water. The truth is, spiritual enlightenment and satiation aside, I really don't get thirst or sweat, and I am pretty sure that I am walking (or maybe staggaring a little) through my life in a constant state of dehydration. This isn't great on any given day, and it's something I've been aware of but uninterested in for years, but as a woman now growing another human life, I am responsible on a much higher level to nourish myself and this new person, and that includes a lot of water. My doctor has already impressed this upon me, as has my midwife, my husband, and my more persistant friends. In fact my midwife, in growing frustration with my tell-tale dry skin, made me hold a two liter body of water and informed me that this is how much more blood I am going to have to generate out of thin air while pregnant. And what is all that blood made of if not extra water? If I want a healthy, happy pregnancy and home birth, as opposed to a brightly lit unpleasant hospital experience, I'd better start sucking down the water. For that matter, if I want a healthy baby and a happy life of my own, learning to take in liquid is a really good cornerstone to start with.

    So, do you think all this logic got me to drink more? Nope. It got me to want to, and to feel guilty about not doing it, but I just wasn't going to think myself into thirst. I tried to drink more but I felt choked up and waterlogged with the effort, which sometimes led to drinking even less! And then the phrase crept back into my consciousness-- "Be in the water, and of the water." I'd checked it off my list after swimming in a creek, as if any command from the Universe might be that easily achieved and dismissed! I may have been told to go into the water, to cleanse and refresh and metaphorically come out new, sure, but the work part of it was just beginning, and I couldn't ignore the message any longer. My big answer that I'd gone seeking from creation was clear: "Hey Jesse. Drink your water."

    And since apparently mantras from the sky are much more effective motivators for me than perfectly sensible medical advice, that finally kicked me into gear, and my friends and midwife are happy. I feel better too! Still, drinking is something I have to do consciously, so I've taught myself some helpful "water recipes" to keep my beverages appealing and to keep me coming back for more. For all my friends lectures, I notice that they don't drink much water either, since I'm not counting tea and soda in the water category, and since some good H2O is elementally important to all of us, I'm sharing my water jazzer-uppers with the world! I recommend them all as both healthy and tasty, so feel free to try each one and enjoy-- let's be hydrated, people!

Picture 1: This is perhaps my favorite "enhanced" water. Introduced to me by Ms Marla Bird, though I should have noticed other hippies drinking it for years, it's a sort of home-made vastly superior version of Gatorade. It tastes great, and is super nourishing and extra hydrating, so this is usually the first jar of water I drink in the morning to point the rest of my day in a good direction. In this 2 quart jar that I drink all my water in (reminds and encourages me to keep drinking!) I add:

1 squeezed half lime, 1 pinch of salt, and 1 Tbs of sorghum or real maple syrup. I am currently using syrup tapped from Marla's trees on her farm in the deep Ozark woods, because it is the yummiest stuff ever, and because I love the idea that my grown baby is therefore physically made of my friend's tree sap. :)

Picture 2: Most embarrassing of my water beverages, I'll admit to this one next since it involves actual store-bought Gatorade, which has inferior sweeteners and dye in it, but which I occasionally crave anyway. A friend of mine used to put the Gatorade's at the store next to the toxic products they looked just like (anti-freeze, for example) to point out to shoppers how unnatural the beverage is, so yes, I am aware of the irony here, and yes, I highly recommend the first beverage to this one. That said, I think of this as my junk-food water, and when I want something quick, easy, and appealing, I opt for this. It's basically 1/4 Gatorade (I do at least avoid the ones with the red dye, for what it's worth), and 3/4 filtered water. Always filter your water, avoiding as much of the chemicals, fluoride, chlorine, and other people's prescription drugs as possible!

Picture 3: Keepin' it fresh with Chlorophyll! This one I've done my whole life, since my mom drank it though all her pregnancies on the advice of her midwives, and now I'm drinking it again on the advice of mine. Chlorophyll is a cleanser, keeping your blood happy and healthy. It is also a dark green food, meaning it's high in iron which is great for women in general and extra great for pregnancy, since it is a great support for anemia. And since it's an iron source that comes from food rather than a capsule, it isn't constipating! Plus, it tastes all fresh and green and delicious! This is a jar of water with 2 Tbs. of chlorophyll-- drink one a day!

Picture 4: Coconut-Orange-Shake! So nourishing, so yummy, such a treat. It's 1/4 can of coconut milk, 1 cup of orange juice, and the rest of the jar filled with sparkling water. I never get tired of this one, it's a treat!

Picture 5: Cranberry juice and water, a tart treat for the girl with the questionable urinary tract! This one is more medicinal so I don't drink it all the time, but I do like its tangy zing, so it's nice to add into the mix sometimes. Cranberry is perfect for UTI's, so if you tend toward them, it's great for that, and if you like something slightly sour, its great for that too! Just remember that we're talking pure cranberry juice, fresh or from concentrate (I use a bottle of concentrate that I keep in the fridge), NOT the kind from the store with extra words attached like "drink" or "cocktail." If your cranberry "juice" has other juices or sugar in it, it is doing more harm to your urinary tract than good. This picture is a mix of a full jar of filtered water and 2 Tbs. concentrated cranberry juice.

Picture 6: Emergen-C, my fix-all for draggy days. Feeling tired? Emergen-C. Coming down with something? Emergen-C. Weather changing? Emergen-C. It's 1,000 mg of Vitamin C, coupled with plenty of other nourishing good things, and I swear by it for everything from slow starting mornings to the biggest monster colds. Also, it comes in a cute little convenient package that just pours right into your water jar easy as pie and tastes so good I'd just drink it every day for fun if it didn't have slightly diuretic qualities when consumed that often! This is one jar of water and one packet of Emergen-C. The pictured flavor is citrus, but it comes in all kinds of great flavor variations, so pick the one you like and boost up your immune system-- yum!

Picture 7: Pure indulgence, almost too pricey to justify (but I still manage to do so), super hydrating, and the thing I am currently addicted to-- Coconut Water! Completely different than the coconut milk concoction I was advocating earlier, coconut water is bought by the jar or pop-open can at your local grocery or health food store, and is super hydrating and nourishing. (Try a little googling of the benefits of coconut sometime to see why I tout its goodness so much). If I could afford it I'd suck down one of these per day, but at around 2.50 a can, I try to only give in to my cravings every other day or two. You'll notice that I've selected the kind with the pulp included, this is not a health choice, and the non-pulp kind is always sitting right there on the shelf next to it, but it's really the little bites of coconut that I'm going for. Maybe it's my aversion to drinking rearing its ugly head again, but any drink I can chew on is the best in my opinion! If you've got a little spare change burning a hole in your pocket and want to be nice to your body, skip the Starbucks one morning and pick yourself up a coconut water-- your mouth and your body will thank you!

If we are what we eat, then in creating our own best lives, a conscious effort to build up our bodies with good food and beverages is a great starting point for every hand made life. So as it was put to me I will reflect it outward and say, let's all be in the water and of the water! Yay for H2O!

 

In the Water and Of the Water

   I am going to tell you how I pray. Like most things I do, it's a sacred ritual only to me, since I made it up for myself. But then I suppose somethings, those things are the most important to the maker-upper. Having been raised in a conservative-charismatic Christian church, praying to me has always involved a lot of speaking in tongues, yelling, falling down, dancing, laughing, crying, and prophesying. What a show! And I love that. I don't quite know what to do with myself in more mainstream churches that don't do that. Still, for myself, the opposite approach has proved more useful. Perhaps I picked it up in Quaker meetings on the East Coast. Perhaps it came to me in Amish church where, since I don't speak German, I had many long hours on a skinny wooden bench to go deeply into my own thoughts. I think mostly though, my being an artist, so constantly focused on creation and output, is what drove me inward and toward stillness in my prayer time.

    So here's how it goes for me. I try to keep a practice of prayer each day (which works for stretches of time, and is then forgotten for stretches of time), in which I simply light candles and am quiet. Pretty common, I assume, but I'm not exactly meditating, just trying to be quiet, and to listen. I picture myself being filled up. I figure I spend about 23 hours and 50 minutes the rest of the day putting out energy, requests, demands, expressions and statements-- so for these 10 minutes, I can be a vessel being filled, rather than one pouring out. So no mantra, no prayer requests, no visualizations, just open hands, open heart, outer and inner mouth clamped shut, in a place of reception. Some days it's just a break I don't want to take time for, and some days it creates a real sense of connection, but it's a good practice when I'm in the habit.

    For my real prayer time though, this is just the foundation. When I want to pray, and I mean really pray-- like I need some serious answers or I have a major bone to pick, I go to the woods. I don't think you can do major spiritual work in your own house, because it's just too full of every emotion you've already felt, and all the things you need to do. Also, if your version of God is one of the pure evocation of Creator, I think a feeling of connection is greatly helped by being nestled in nothing but pure creation. So, the woods. I find a place where I know I won't be disturbed (and sometimes I'm doing this in the dead of winter, so that helps), set myself down with my blanket and pillow, and take in all my surroundings. I have prepared myself by eating lightly, and by not speaking yet that day, if it can be helped. This means I usually go out early, and notify my partner beforehand that I won't be my usual chatty self (he doesn't mind the break!). I bring nothing but water, a pencil, and paper. The pencil and paper are NOT for doodling, journaling, or any busy work, they are ONLY to write down what I am told so that when I get my answer, I can commit it to memory accurately, and leave. I spend maybe 10 minutes pouring my heart out to the Universe, to God. Sometimes I am begging for help-- "please remove the panic attacks that continue to plague my life!" Sometimes I am just seeking direction-- "what is my path? What is my focus? What is this season of my life? Where should I plant my feet and energy?" And occasionally, I am raging with anger-- "Why does everyone else in the world get loving parents then partners and children and here I am at 30 with F*%#ING NOTHING?!" Either way, after the rant, I quiet down and JUST listen. Thoughts come up, and I say inside "I am listening." Woodsey adorable animals snuffle by and I say "thank you, I am listening."

    It usually takes a few hours, one or two at the least, and sometimes four or five, but eventually my mind is done babbling. The world is quiet with me. I open up, I am connected, and I finally have ears to hear. A faith healer once said to me that healing is 100% available 100% of the time, we just have to touch it. I think communication with the Universe at large works the same way. Now, we are all different, we all give and recieve in our own way. But here is how things happen for me. In that place of stillness, after I've waited and soaked it in, I always, always get my answer. For me, it is a dialogue that I can hear in my head, much like you might hear a conversation that you are playing over for yourself, except these are new words, and when I am spoken to there is a resonance that feels similar to standing next to a giant bonging gong. Occasionally I get an tentative answer that doesn't come with that resonant sensation, and then I know that's just my own head, trying to speed up the process. Am I sounding a little crazy? A little too woo-woo spirit-worldy? If so, I assure you this isn't part of my daily conversation, and I get that perhaps it's a little much for a lot of people, but if we're all being honest, and what's the point in communicating if we're not, then this is what I do at my most vulnerable place, and this is where my guide posts come from, and there is a point to my story, so the intent is, I promise, in no way preachy.

    As an example of quiet time turn-outs, I once went into the woods to tell God I'd had it, and we were essentially breaking up. That was the "I'm 30 and as yet without love, practically raised by wolves, a starving to the point of a showdown," rant that I mentioned earlier. There was an embarrassing amount of cursing, a slew of furious accusations, and possibly a few threats. I almost didn't even stay for my listening time because I'd mostly just come to yell, but then I thought I was at least owed a response (see the state of mind I was in? The Universe owed me something!). So I listened, and when the answer came, it was incoherent. Why? Because it was hysterical laughter directed at me. I got this picture in my head of these two light beings in a space of pure bright light, falling out of their chairs onto the ground laughing, and unable to speak to me because of the choking explosions of hilarity. "Very funny," I said, "thank you for caring." They laughed and laughed and laughed some more, and finally getting their breath back, they answered.

    "You already have everything you're so mad about, it is at your fingertips, it's been in motion forever, and it's actually already here. You've already touched it! You're throwing the most ridiculous fit, it's just too funny!" Well, that was my answer, and though I didn't know what those laughers were talking about, I did feel a bit like a raving jerky lunatic, so I wrote down my answer and went on home. It turned out that Josh, who had asked me out once and who I'd turned down months ago, decided the next day to give me one more try. I agreed to have lunch with him, not even thinking of my break down the day before, and here we are, happy as clams, well mated and loving our growing family.

    If you've been reading from the very beginning, you might remember that a miscarriage this summer was the catalyst for starting this writing project. Not an easy process, physically or emotionally, and it definitely took hindsight to see the strength and trust in my body I gained from it, or the even stronger love and attachment that it engendered in Josh for myself and our next start at a baby. There turned out to be one little month between miscarriage and new pregnancy, and in the month I floated around in my own world feeling grief, hope, emptiness, liberation, and just wondering what the future held for all of us. Definitely time for a trip to the woods. When I went this time, my intentions were clear, and I didn't have to wait long, though my answer was a little more cryptic than I'd hoped for. I wanted to know the who-what-when-where-how's of my reproductive future. The answer I got? "Be in the water and of the water." That's it, no visions, no further explainations, and every time I double checked, I got the same response: "be in the water and of the the water." I had a strong urge to roll off the log I was sitting on into the creek below, I wanted very much to be fully submerged, but the water was dirty and snakey, so I wrote down my answer and went home.

    The urge to baptize myself in every creek I drove past (which is a lot in the rural Ozarks) stayed with me to the point of distraction, but I continued not to succumb. It just never seemed quite right. Later that week I suddenly found myself driving 100 miles to the commune I love and come from on a spur of the moment errand that couldn't be put off. There, I found a pile of exhausted people just back from a long festival and in lazy recovery mode. "Let's go to the creek!" I said, and they were less than enthusiastic. It's a longish walk down a very rutted hill, and no one was interested. "Let's go to the creek!" I said again, and still nothing. After about 10 minutes I gave it one more try "I'm going to the creek!" I announced, and gathered up my things to set off. Like the Pied Piper, I looked behind me to find a few people straggling along despite their protests, and we managed to pick up a few more along the way. At Lick Creek we swim naked in the sunshine, and everyone who has been there knows it's a sacred place. Everyone swam, everyone soaked up the sun, everyone was refreshed and happy, and I stayed under the water until the moon came out, dunking and dunking, separating the old from the new, until I came out covered in creek dirt, shiney clean.

    That turned out to be the last warm day-- 77 degrees that day, and 40 the next. That next day was Solstice, when I found myself so grumpy I peed on a test in my car and got the when's and how's I'd been asking for... we are expecting our first child in May. :)

*First three creek images are poached from the lovely Ms Marla Bird, fourth is Summer Solstice at Lick Creek.

Made from Scratch in the Extreme-- We're Growing a Person!

    Yup, that's what I said. It's a... baby! Given our shared hippie-style/intensely religious upbringings (yes these things can go together), Josh and I have always been inclined, even as children, to creating our surroundings, both in spirit and in material form. Many times we've lacked patience or forethought and ended up manifesting things that no one including us would want, but we're learning as we go (aren't we all), and nothing makes us happier than bringing a new object or meal or idea into the world at the end of the day.

    I say that to say this: growing a person is a whole new ballgame, and I'm pretty sure we don't even fully grasp what is happening yet! What a thing to go from a lifetime of intense control issues to a quivering mass of exhaustion and nausea who cannot, no matter how much will-power is exerted, go for that regular walk in the woods, nor ever look at lasagna again. What a thing to watch one's own familiar physical shape morph from hard and thin, to soft, to round, and then to a swelling over ripe expanse of stretched skin, like a piece of fruit left too long on the vine, or perhaps like a girl in some fairy tale who has witlessly swallowed the waxing moon. This body over which I have exerted so much control-- the one that has carried me through 34 years of life with easy consistency, the one who bounced around as a cheerleader, marched for miles on its toes as a Kiltie, worked on farms, and danced almost a decade of 8 hour shifts-- is now a servant of life, and works for the ever creating universe, rather than just me. I thought I would hate it. I spent a long time fearing it. I do not like to lose control.

    Turns out, I love it. And I don't mean I love it like "isn't it so fun to get extra attention and foot rubs," though that is fun and I can always use more foot rubs. I mean I love it like I love breathing, or the best book, or the exact right food or song or word of comfort, at the exact right moment. The baby at the end of this journey is exciting and surreal to think of, I admit, but currently it is the process itself that I am enthralled with, and the loss of that control, which I had had a death-grip on since childhood, that I am so amazed by. Inconvenience and physical woes aside, I have never felt more in the flow of life, so willing to live (as opposed to just not willing to give up), or so able to sit with whatever is happening, be it discomfort or almost overwhelming joy. I spent 15 years in therapy working on  my anxiety-- needed and worth it, I assure you-- and this new chapter in life is healing and shifting me as much as another 15 years would. A line from an Alanis Morrisette song has been cycling through my head lately which I think sums up the present day nicely: "The moment I let go of it, was the moment I touched down."

    Alright, have I waxed poetic enough? Are we all swimming in too much sugar? Well it had to be said and now it's out of my system, so there. Ready for something more entertaining? Let's share the story of how I told Josh!

    When I found out I was pregnant the first time, it happened over a long weekend where he was away and would return home on no less than Father's Day. So after an agonizing 3 days alone in my house with no phone privileges (I cannot keep my own secrets to save my life so my only course of action was to quarantine myself), I wrapped up his childhood teddy bear, scribbled a note in a Father's Day card, leashed up the dog, and dragged Josh out into the woods. At our favorite spot by the creek, I gave him his gift and sat back to watch his face. Unwrapping the bear which I thought was a dead giveaway, Josh said offhandedly "huh, I used to have a bear just like this," and set it aside. When he read the card (signed "from Jesse, the dog and cats, and your first child who is due in February), I watched his face which bore a look of annoyance. I knew the look well, it's the one that says "why does this girl insist on giving cheesy gifts for EVERY holiday and signing cards from house pets?".  Then he shifted to confusion face-- the one that says "I have forgotten how the English language works and this card makes no sense to me." Upon his third reading, I got the happy face I was waiting for, along with a lot of bouncing and hugging, and a surprising slew of joyful curse words.

 

    This time, I found out I was pregnant while driving home in my car from teaching an art class. I'd been crying like a crazy person for two days, and when I pulled the afore mentioned Alanis Morrisette cd out of my stereo, snapped it in half, and threw it out the window for skipping at a spot where it had been skipping for years, I had a sudden moment of clarity. "You're pregnant," a loud voice in my crazy head informed me! I pulled onto the side of the busy road, snatched the spare pregnancy test from the glove compartment, peed on it and all over my skirt, and saw two pink lines in about two seconds. Phew! No need to pay for more therapy, I'm just exploding with hormones!

    Since apparently all positive pregnancy tests coincide with holidays for me, this day was the Autumn Solstice-- a perfect excuse to drag Josh out into the woods again and smack him with another great surprise! I thought about re-enacting the first time we'd been here, but that seemed a little weird, not to mention lacking in creativity, so I went understated this time, and it was perfect. Under the guise of forcing him to participate in the celebration of yet another holiday that he didn't think warranted a hike, I marched him out to a different wooded hill, handed him some ice cream, and sat us down on a bench to watch the sunset. We talked about the end of summer, the beginning of harvest time, and once we were alone, after the people who I'm pretty sure were engaged in a drug deal walked away, I gave him his package.

    Nothing so overthought this time, it was a small tin holding the positive test, and a small simple note. Josh and I have been in love of late with a band called Medicine for the People, and in particular a song of theirs called Manifesto. The chorus at the end that sticks in your head in the most beautiful way goes "Don't waste your hate, rather gather and create. Be of service, be a sensible person, use your words and don't be nervous. You can do this, you've got purpose. Find your medicine and use it." We'd been singing it under our breath for weeks, so the note over the test simply said "we can do this, we've got purpose."

    Once he got it, which still took a minute, everything changed, and here we are on the path to parenthood. Talk about a hand made life!

Here is yet another attempt to link the song I mentioned for your clicking convenience! If you can't get there from here, go the old fashioned route and look for Medicine for the People Manifesto on www.youtube.com.

   " title="" target="_self">Manifesto

 

 

Tis Better to Give...

 

   One thing I know for sure is that everybody likes a present! Being new to the world of traditional weddings when I began planning mine, I was shocked to learn that it is a tradition to give each of one's guests a little take-home memento of the day. I was even more shocked when I looked up the commercially available wedding guests gifts selections, and learned that they range in average cost from $2 to $10 EACH, and the $2 gifts are so lame they practically scream out "put me in the landfill as soon as you get home!" With over 100 guests coming and a diminishing budget to keep in mind, I had to immediately cross the over priced baubles off my list.

    Still, I really love giving gifts in general. I like whole idea behind it, the give and take nature of the universe being reflected in gift exchange, the spirit of sharing and bounty that gift giving implies, and I enjoy the act of handing out something that makes the receiver smile. Also, I did ask a lot of my guests, from making them hike all over a hilly park, to making them sit on the ground in their pretty clothes, to asking some of them to bring food as well as a wedding gift (all facets that everyone loved, but that might feel a little tiring overall), so I felt extra attached to making sure that when they left for home at the end of the day, they departed feeling as full of energy and cool stuff as they had when they showed up that morning. My obvious solution? Hand made take-home gifts, of course!

    For our large body of attending friends and family, I came up with a guest-grab-bag that was filled with a delightful collection of lasting and useful memorabilia that reflected the day itself and the ideals Josh and I share for the kind of world we want to live in. It was sort of a "green" wedding gift for our "green" wedding, though I found that purchasing things with that particular buzz word attached can cost you even more cash, which makes no sense at all to me. I even managed to package them up in such a way that they were adorable to look at, tempting to grab extras on the way out, and even served as added decoration at the reception by virtue of their multitude and cuteness!

    Because I had a crew of about 20 friends and family members who really did contribute heavily to making the day happen, mostly with their time and muscle power for set-up on the day of the event, and with their afore-mentioned food donations, I made 20 extra special gift bags for them. While the regular guest bags were small paper creations with tiny birdhouses and other gifts inside, the upgraded versions for the work crew were large hand-made muslin bags to be re-used later for shopping, and were filled with larger versions of their smaller cousins-- giant birdhouses and more verbose cards, for example.

    These two projects took a little time, but overall they weren't too hard, were fun to make and assemble, and were a big hit at the party! Not only did my friends love them (I still see their birdhouses displayed and even inhabited when I visit), the whole sha-bang cost me about $200 rather than the $500 I could have spent, and out-cooled anything I could have purchased from a store by THIS much-- (I'm holding my arms apart as wide as they will go here). Ready to make some fabulous take-home wedding gifts for your awesome and deserving guests? Let's do it!

DIY Gift Bags for Guests Who've Been Naughty or Nice

Step 1: First, do a little shopping at your favorite dollar bins, whether those are found in a craft shop, a Dollar General, or a fabric store. Find some item that costs a dollar but manages not to look cheap, and that also reflects you as a couple or some theme of your event. Our wedding was in the spring, so I considered cute little garden trowels, pre-seeded tiny plant pots, etc. But I've seen plenty of items in these bins that I think would fit the bill nicely depending on you and your scene-- slinky's, picture frames, travel games, etc... I went with these tiny wooden birdhouses that were so adorable and detailed I felt like I was ripping off the store buying out their entire inventory. I also found some small wind chimes at only .50 cents a piece, so I bought 100 of those to go with my 100 birdhouses. I should add here that while I had closer to 200 guests, many of them were couples or families, so I estimated that 100 was plenty to send home one per household, and that worked out fine with a couple of left over bags I got to keep myself at the end. I later mailed these to people who wanted to come but couldn't, so the number was perfect. Buying your main gift before you start the rest of your project is important since it would really be a bummer to make a bunch of beautiful gift bags and then discover that what you want to give won't fit inside them!

Step 2: Now that you have your primary gifts rounded up, it's time to do the real work. Go to your nearest seller of brown paper bags, the kind your mom (if she was anything like mine) put your lunch in when you were a kid and you wished she'd just give you money for the hot lunch like all the other kids. I found mine at Target, but I'm hoping they're easily available at any grocery store, since they're so handy for so many things. Buy a pack that supplies as many as you need. I bought a pack of 100, which cost me one whole dollar.

Next, round up:

a bottle of white acrylic paint, an additional accent paint color of your choice, and a paintbrush

a big bundle of sticks from the nearest tree

a hot glue gun

a black Sharpie marker

a few different patterned rolls of wired ribbon

a hole punch

and a bunch of tiny stickers picturing flowers or bugs or some such cute thing.

Phew! Got it all? Actually you should have almost all of this sitting around from our previous projects, so the list shouldn't be as daunting as it first sounds!

Step 3: Time to get dirty! You will need a large uncluttered space for this first step that can sit uninterrupted by pets or kids or really handsy adults for a good hour or two. First, lay out each of your paper bags flat in a line or large square, until all your bags are displayed with their face up, and folded bag bottom behind. With a cup full of white paint and a nice wide paint brush, begin painting your bags. You are simply making a white rectangle in the bottom half or third of your bag, and the edges don't even need to be neat or well defined, so try to go through this part quickly so you can move on to the fun stuff. I actually had my art class of 10 year olds do this part for me, if that tells you how much you don't need to be a perfectionist here. When all your white rectangles are in place, pull out your accent paint color put in in a cup and add a little water (just enough to make it slightly less thick and easier to fling). Dip your big paint brush into the accent color, and with a fully loaded brush, starting flinging the paint across your field of paper bags, giving each bag a nice LIGHT splattering of color.

Step 4: While you're waiting for your paint to dry, cut your ribbon into lengths of about a foot a piece, and set aside.

Step 5: Your paint is probably still wet, so go ahead and chop up those sticks you collected earlier. They will serve as a little picture frame for your white rectangle, so they need to be cut into stacks of two equal lengths, one longer for the long sides of the rectangle, and one shorter for the shorter sides. Pick a  uniform length for the long and short sides to be, something close to the average rectangle size you've painted, and start cutting your sticks with a pair of old scissors. Again, this process doesn't have to be perfect, some of your sticks will be fat, some skinny, some of your stick frames will be smaller than your white rectangle, and some bigger. This only adds to the charm at the end, so don't worry about it, just chop up your pile of uniform long and short sticks, and think about how pretty you'll look in your dress.

Step 6: When your paint is fully dry, grab your Sharpie marker and start writing. I wrote "Thank You!" on each of my bags in the center of the white paint rectangle, but you can certainly print out anything you want to say to your guests here, as long as you keep it brief! Something like "True Love," of "Happily Ever After" would be great.

Step 7: Make those stick frames! This is the most tedious part of the job, as hot glue guns make annoying stringy things that muck up your process, but it's still a fun and easy job, so just enjoy the process! With your long and short stick-stacks and your heated up hot glue gun, begin gluing the rectangle stick frames down around each white triangle, until all your bags are framed. A little time consuming, but so worth it when you're done-- this is the most memorable part of your decorated bag!

Step 8: Slap on your stickers! This part is so gratifying, because all the hard stuff is now over, and the stickers are nothing but cute, easy, and fun! I used little honey bees for my sticker choice, so i also used my black Sharpie to draw in little buzz-y flying lines behind their little bee butts.

Step 9: It's bag filling time. Definitely my favorite part because I felt like a rich and benevolent gift giver plunging birdhouses and wind chimes into 100 lovely paper pic nic bags. I should note here that I also included a few tiny extras into my packages, which added interest and fun to their opening with pretty much no extra cost to me. I found little brown paper packages (about 4x4 inches) at Hobby Lobby, 100 for $2. I stamped each one of them with a rubber stamp and ink pad I had laying around that said "Love Grows," filled them with a tablespoon each of wild flower seeds, and stapled them shut. I also cut out strips of paper, folded them over, stamped them with another rubber stamp of a flying bee that said "Bee Well," and signed them inside with love from Mr. and Mrs. Stone. So when I stuffed my pic nic bags, each one ended up holding 1 birdhouse, 1 wind chime, 1 stamped seed packet, and 1 card.

Step 10: Almost done! Now that your bags are looking fat and frisky, fold each one over on top with the fold toward the back, and use your hole punch to punch two holes, about an inch apart, into the middle of the fold. Using the ribbon you cut earlier, thread a piece from front to back through one hole, then from back to front through the other. Tie your ribbon into a pretty bow and reapeat on each paper bag.

Now take a breath and step back to survey your fabulousity! Your guests are about to have the best time ever and you are the one making it happen! Yay for inexpensive extra fun gift bags!

A Labor of Love-- How to Make the Things that Make a Space Your Own

   

     Ok people, let's get down to the brass tacks-- isn't that what they say when it's time for the nitty-gritty work to commence? Filling a space with armloads of handmade goods isn't done overnight, and it isn't done alone either. Before I share with you the in's and outs of decorative handwork, I want to be clear about two things: 1.) It is time consuming but worth it, so if you're really going to DIY your perfect day, get ready to spend every night for several months working your little fingers to the bone-- in a fun way :)! And 2.) Just as it takes a village to raise a child, it takes your community of friends and family to pull something this large together, and really, you and I wouldn't have it any other way, right?!

    While I did the vast bulk of this work on my own in my home through long blustery winter nights, I could not have made my dress with out almost all the work and inspiration coming from my dress-revamping friend, Angela. I could not have baked the lovely cake that her mother made for us. I could not have set up my wedding (which took a team of 20 people) the morning of the event, and gotten ready for said wedding at the same time. So I have to send out a universe-size thank-you to all of my wonderful helpers, and I also have to help you chomping-at-the-bit readers to "keep it real"! Yes, you'll be working a lot when you are hand making the days and events of your own life, and yes, you'll still need other people along that way. After all, isn't communing with other people what weddings and life are all about?!

And now for those brass tacks I mentioned...

DIY TRIANGLE BUNTING BY THE MILE

For a huge blank space like the one I was trying to fill, I knew the first step would be to have plenty of texture, color, and movement, up in the air, as far as the eye could see. To this end, I made enough scrap fabric bunting to wrap around the whole park area several times over, allowing for plenty of criss-crossing and loop-di-looping overhead. The effect was just what I'd hoped for, a fluttery light hearted home-y feel that left everyone smiling under the breezy canopy of calico's and plaids. 

Step 1: To begin this big project (it took me a few weeks to get it all cut, stitched, and coiled away in bags), I started out with a trip to my local thrift store. I don't mean the established and more popular thrift stores where people are shopping for brand name clothes, I mean the little church-run kind, off in the woods somewhere, where clothes are still sold by the bag for a dollar a crammed-in pile. When you're going to chop them up anyway, no one cares what designer name the tag boasts. So off to the nearby town of Ebeneezer went I, where I crammed plastic shopping bags full of skirts and dresses of every print, and then proceeded to shamelessly flirt with the sweet and a little simple guy behind the register to get out with an even more steep discount. I believe my total cost was something like 5 bucks, and I left with a backseat full of clothes.

Step 2: After choosing the size of triangle you'd like to use (I went with BIG, probably a foot on each side, to save a little on sewing time in the end) and procuring a really good pair of scissors, begin cutting up your clothes. I like to chop up the clothes along the seams first, to provide myself with a more flat and workable piece of fabric to cut from. If you like, you can make yourself a triangle template from a piece of paper and trace the shape with a marker onto the fabric, cutting from the shapes you draw. I didn't bother with this, preferring to blaze through willy-nilly and just get the work done. This did leave me with shapes that were not completely uniform in size, and some that only slightly resembled triangles, but I liked the home-made look this achieved, so it worked for me. If you prefer a more proper look, then I suggest the template.

Step 3: Make a stack of triangles as high as you feel you'll want to sew. I'm not exaggerating when I say that my stack probably reached my hips when standing, but I'm also not exaggerating when I say I made miles of bunting, so don't feel you need to be quite as industrious as I was, unless you also have a big space to fill and a lot of nights to work on it! Remember as you build your stack to alternate the patterns you are putting there, as the order you build up your fabric in will be the order you end up stitching them in as well, so we don't want a whole row of pink polka dots with nothing in between.

Step 4: Find a roll of strong cotton string or twine, thick enough to hold the weight of your fabulous creation, but thin enough not to break the needle on your machine should you bump into it while sewing. There's nothing more terrifying than sewing peacefully along while daydreaming about your wedding day, only to have the sharp end of a needle suddenly slam into something too thick, snap in half, and come shooting straight out at your eye! Heed my warning readers, I speak from experience. Leaving a nice long piece of the twine bare (a good 6 feet, so that it can be wrapped and tied around any tree or pole without interrupting your bunting), and then start your sewing. Drawing from your stack, pick up one triangle at a time, fold one end over the twine so that about an inch overlaps in back, and simply stitch the triangle closed over the twine, tightly enough that it won't slip around once you've stitched it in place. If you're wondering about the raw edges on the rest of the triangle, I left mine that way on purpose. Again, I like the handmade feel of a raw edge, and more importantly, hemming the edges of all that fabric would have tripled my work time. And while I loved making all this swag for my wedding, I didn't love it THAT much! Also, make sure that each new piece of fabric you add faces the same way, with its print on the outside, and the fold over stitch in back. Got your first triangle sewn nicely into place all pretty and perfect? Great! Now do that a thousand more times, and you'll have all the bunting loveliness a girl could ever want!

Step 5: You're actually done at this point, provided you've thought to trim your threads along the way, which I highly suggest, so just a few more pointers to keep you on the right track. Do make sure that when you are done with your long bunting banner, you coil it up nice and neat before you bag it. Otherwise it will come out looking like what my lingerie used to look like before I figured out that I couldn't just wad it up in a ball and toss it into the washer and dryer as if it were a pile of sweatshirts-- a tangle blob of fabric that will never un-knot itself without the help of Rumpelstiltskin himself, and you know what a hard bargain he drives.

Also, if you have so many triangles (like me) that you end up using more than one ball of twine, be sure to leave 6 feet of empty space at the other end of your bunting as well, for tying purposes.

Lastly, if you are still harboring a fear of the sewing machine, a malady a surprising number of modern people share, I suggest two things: 1.) Get over this fear so that we can get on with crafting! And 2.) You can actually do this whole project with hot glue instead of a needle and thread, it will be just as pretty and strong, though your fingers might get a little burn-y.

And best of all, bunting lasts forever, and can be pulled out again and again for parties or sunny days for the rest of your life! Yay for bunting!

 

Stone Soup in Every Day Life. --or-- FREE FOOD! The real reason droves of people have shown up for your wedding...

   Do you know the old story of Stone Soup? The one where an old man walks into a town, hungry and tired, and right away the townspeople inform him that they have no food nor bed to share with him? "It's ok," he tells them, "I've got my own recipe for the most delicious soup in the world, and i carry it right here in my pocket." Then he pulls out a rock and shows it off to the local folk. Curious, the people ask how he plans to make dinner from this. "Well," he answers, "if one of you has a kettle and some water to put over a fire, I'll show you!" Quickly they gather these things for him, excited to see soup made from a stone. The old man drops his stone into the pot, and begins to heat the water. As he stirs and samples it, he says "could use a little salt-- does anyone have a dash of salt I can add to this stone soup?" Salt is handed to him right away. "Maybe a few carrots would help too, and an onion might make it even better..." Soon carrots and onions have been rounded up and put in the pot, to help along the mysterious stone soup. Eventually as the smell wafts through the crowd, each person manages to find something to contribute to the pot, and in the end everyone eats, including the old man, and without sacrifice on any ones part, everyone goes home fed and happy, and a bed is found for the old man, who gave them the Stone Soup recipe. This was the philosophy behind feeding our guests, and I'm so glad to finally know that the tale I heard so often growing up really does work out just like they said it would. 

     I'm just going to say it, when I'm on the fence about attending a wedding, it's the free food that tips me over the RSVP edge. I know there's no such thing as a free lunch, and technically the sacrifice of my whole day as well as a gift was required to get me in the door, but i don't care, where there is free food, particularly food that promises to be yummy and bountiful, you will likely find me nearby. I can only assume this is true for my guests as well, and that's fine, we are all mortal, after all. I say then that rather than deny this gastronomical truth, we embrace it fully, and give the people what they want!

    I know that feeding the multitudes is a big part of  any ones wedding budget, and I've learned that it is actually the biggest contributing factor to cutting down a couple's guest list. A friend of mine just last week had a lovely wedding that she'll be paying for for a while, and she told me the cost to feed and entertain her guests was $40 per person! And no, nothing was brought in from the ocean or the moon! I wanted none of this. I wanted every person I'd ever met to get to come to our big day if they felt so moved, and when they got there, I wanted them to feel happy and well nourished from start to finish-- no peckish low-blood-sugared testy guests at my wedding! I didn't just send out 100 invitations to everyone I find an address for, I printed up posters and posted them in the common areas of places I love and communes I've lived in. When you've got croquet, sack race, and volleyball teams to fill, you need a big crowd, and I'm not averse to a big pile of wedding presents either :)...

    How then to feed an expected throng of 200 people while keeping to a $2,000 wedding budget? The answer is easy and not as old-fashioned as the catering industry would have you think: POTLUCK! Early on in our planning, Josh and I made a poster for our living room wall with the wedding sectioned off into 6 parts, and a sharpie on a string to jot down ideas as they came to us. One of the sections (by far the one that got the most attention) was food, and I suspect that even our house guests were putting up suggestions when our backs were turned, because not all of the food ideas look like one of two hands wrote them. Once we had our list of deliciousness compiled and a little bit narrowed down (we didn't include carameled apples just because they sounded good to me at 3 in the morning once so I scrawled them across the wall on my way to bed), we made a matching list of friends we felt comfortable asking for help, and let them each choose something off the list to bring to the wedding. This was such a great idea all around because not only did it net us a HUGE and diverse spread of FABULOUS healthy food, but it gave our meal-bringers some choice in the matter, and made them feel much more a part of the event. I really think the people who pitched in were the people who stayed latest and had the most fun, due in part to their shared sense of ownership in the day. It also ensured that in asking people to potluck, we didn't end up with 30 dishes of green beans and a large contingent of hungry grumpy people.

    Since our red velvet and buttercream frosted cake was made at the bargain price of $150 for 200 people (a dear friend has a mom who is a cake maker, and gifted this beautiful and delicious cake to us at her cost), we felt we had a little in the budget to contribute to the food as well, and not wanting to put much financial burden on anyone else, we decided to be the sole meat providers, so that everyone else could focus on fun and fabulous (and much less expensive) side dishes. Also, we ran into a food logistics problem: on a warm late spring day, at an out door event where the food would be brought early and left out in no refrigeration for several hours, what would be done with the meaty portion of the meal? Put it on ice and serve it cold? Keep it over a flame and serve it dehydrated? Let it wait with a lid on and risk food poisoning more people than could fit into one emergency room? We decided that the only reasonable answer was to for over the cash and cater the meat. This way it could be delivered by professionals at the beginning of the meal, and everyone could eat without fearing a visit from the e-coli family. By choosing a locally owned restaurant, we were able to keep our money in the local economy which we greatly prefer, and we were also able to negotiate a bulk rate meat price. We ended up agreeing to a huge helping of brisket and barbecued chicken, for which we paid $400 cash, along with some bartered work from my husband for the restaurant owner-- another benefit of buying local.

    We really thought that we had amassed just enough food to feed our guests and keep everyone happy till they went their own ways, but it turned out to be like the loaves and the fishes! There was such a bounty of food-- meat, side dishes, deserts, salads... that we and our families didn't have to cook for a good week afterward, and the meat fed us and several other people from our freezers for the next year. And this was after I watched people pile up firsts and then seconds on their paper plates like they were vikings getting ready for a long sea voyage! From the top of my head I can remember looking at our three-table food spread and seeing: Lasagna, 4 different kinds of salad, two different kinds of fruit salad, bowls of pastas, vegetables cooked and raw, nachos (my personal request), beans of every kind, cobblers, cakes, our catered meat, lemon-aide and iced tea, and loaves and loaves of home made whole wheat bread, sliced and waiting for butter. It took me two plates to get a tiny taste of everything, and I loved every bite! What a labor of love from our guests, what a bountiful table we had, and what a wonderful lesson in the idea that many hands make light work.

 

 

Creating Space

   

     The park we were married in is beautiful. Rolling hills and unpaved trails, babbling creeks with bridges and waterfalls, wildlife everywhere and flowers taller than me in the hot rush of spring into summer. We were a little sneaky and hosted our ceremony on a lovely peninsula that stretched out into the center of a lake, surrounded on all sides by rising verdant hills with a perfect cooling breeze coming off the water. Technically this wasn't the part of the park we'd had permission to rent, and we had a little scuffle with the parks department the day before the festivities when an unhappy bureaucrat told us we couldn't put a bunch of people on blankets and say our vows there. Happily, that woman had a much nicer boss, and the combination of a crying bride and a tough as nails mother-in-law-to-be (by tough I mean the woman was once involved in an armed government standoff but still manages to make her point in just a few well chosen words) can be very convincing. Not much to worry about when mother nature hands you magnificent surroundings right out of the gate, so I can't take too much credit for the perfect setting in the first half of the day.

    The pavilion where we were expected to host our reception, however, was a different story. Why anyone thought to enter this veritable Garden of Eden and plunk an aging 70's style pavilion down in the middle of it will forever escape my understanding, but there it was: a relatively cleared field (lacking the thick trees, tall grass, and paths that filled the rest of the park) boasting a large L-shaped concrete slab, topped off by a rusting giant metal roof, and sandwiching in between 20 long and slightly depressed looking pic-nic tables. It was what we were stuck with, and it needed some work.

    Over months of hikes back to this bleak spot (the fact that we were planning during winter didn't help), Josh and I slowly began to find a shared vision for what this place could be, and when early spring washed its way in, we began creating our space.

    Starting from the ground up, we again laid out sheets and blankets for our guests to lounge on, both inside the pavilion and out along the grounds. We used the same collection from the ceremony, which was carried up and redistributed by our "blanket crew." What we wanted our guests to stumble into after a long ceremony of sitting still was a sort of wonderland-y garden party where one was free to roam from one activity to another and encouraged to interact with nature and other people as they went. The blankets again created a relaxed atmosphere for just such rambling, and on blankets and tables we scattered games of Scrabble, Giant Checkers, and Tiddly Winks. Outside of the blankets a game of croquet was set up to play around the guests, a game of horse shoes beckoned on one side of the lawn, and lawn darts called players on the other. I even made some giant muslin bags for the more adventurous who might be drawn to sack racing. One extra gift the pavilion did provide-- a fabulous sand volleyball pit and net, where I tore a nice sized hole in my dress diving for a ball as the sun set later that night. And yes, I got the ball.

    Above ground level there were those saggy peeling tables to contend with, where people would no doubt want to lounge and partake of what turned out to be quite a feast. These were no problem at all, as no table is a match for my trusty bolts of discount muslin! I just love muslin so much, it's so crisp, clean, and simple, it brightens up everything it touches, and it hearkens back to a time I love, where fabric itself was a valuable thing, without all the added bells and whistles. So with muslin tossed over every tired old surface, we had a perfect light blank canvas on which to build, and it was an easy next step to fill the spaces with the things we found most beautiful.

    While planning my own wedding, I watched a lot of those wedding shows about how other women orchestrate theirs (and then how they harshly judge each other for it!). I noticed a LOT of attention seemed to be paid to the table centerpieces, and a LOT of money seemed to be spent on them, and I found this phenomenon strange. There is just so much that goes into a big event, if there were anywhere I'd drop the ball, I thought it would be at the point of spending hundreds of dollars on centerpieces for tables I hoped my guests wouldn't stick to all day! Also, I couldn't help feeling that most of the centerpieces I saw were ugly, and that they would likely just go in the trash at the end of the day. What a waste! Atop our tables we placed mason jars from our home (we'd been saving them up) filled with grass and flowers cut from the roadsides that morning,and tied up with a pretty ribbon. On one table our cake rested, decorated with flowering tree branches, topped with birds in a nest, and standing atop a cedar trunk that Josh had cut for the occasion. On another was our haul of wedding gifts, and on another were our gifts to our guests, all tied up in brown paper bags with colorful satin bows. Easy, just about free, and pretty as a picture.

    Atop our heads loomed that hulking giant of a metal roof yawning down at us with its cavernous shadowy space. Transforming this was my favorite! First I made about 2 miles of triangle shaped fabric garland, which we strung from post to tree to roof to ground, back and forth so many times the whole pavilion and field looked like it was hosting a free for all gypsie circus. Then I made 20 paper circle mobiles which we hung from the roof beams and which fluttered gaily in the breeze all day, making themselves well worth the effort. Next I painted messages on index cards and strung them from red ribbons (proclaiming things like "Josh loves Jesse" and "Happily Ever After") which were tied between the roof posts and also did a little sunshine dance throughout the afternoon.

    So much motion and color above, below, and around us, really brought the pushed back nature back in to the celebration, and made the concrete and metal recede so much into the background that they ended up blending in nicely and feeling like they belonged. It took some doing, but a --fabulous-beautiful-everything-you've-ever-wanted--space can be created anywhere if you just give it a little time to speak to you, work with what you have, and incorporate the things that you love best.

Handcrafting Your Dream Reception/ Best Day Ever-- It's all in the Wrist...

   

     Believe it or not, the ceremony with all its requisite clothing, set-up, and choreographing, was nothing compared to the work of building the wedding reception of our dreams from scratch. The reward for our effort, however, paid us back in spades. It really was the best day we've ever had, and yes, we still hear plenty of enthusiastic tales of a great time had from our guests a year later. I loved it so much I want to have a wedding reception re-enactment just to do it all again, though I have yet to convince Josh that the work is worth it twice...

    So we'll journey through the reception together in much the same way that we walked through the ceremony. I'll give you a bird's eye view of the event, then we'll get down to the brass tacks of how to make your own day everything you want it to be, from decorations to food, to activities, to parting gifts.

    Overall, we wanted our reception to be fun and inclusive for everyone attending, of all ages and inclinations, while still being true to our own personalities. Sounds like a tall order, but when you're working from your heart, it all comes out in the wash. To this end, we set up our party to include sitting areas, playing areas, dancing areas, and blanket lounging areas. We provided a bounty of diverse food and drink (no alcohol, which was a park rule but fit conveniently into our tight bidget), and created a scene where our most uptight relatives and our most hippiefied friends could all feel equally delighted to share in our day. And we did it with less than $1,000 dollars!

 

    I know that a party for a few hundred people can seem like a daunting task, and I learned pretty quickly that people in the wedding industry will drain your wallet fast when talking you into entertaining your guests according their the industry's pre-set agenda. I was told to expect my food to cost a minimum of $25 a PERSON, and for my cake to start out at 3 bucks a head, and that was before anyone even started talking decorations, which were both outrageously over priced and really LAME. But you are not stuck with only the options a salesman gives you! You are more creative thank that, your friends and family deserve more fun than that, and you have better places to spend your money! And besides, a labor of love put into any gathering really is felt by you and your guests, and that kind of fabulocity you just can't buy.

   So put on your apron and your crafty girl pants, and get ready to create the best day ever!

 

Sunshine on Pondwater: Nature's Bling for Free!

   

     Being a babe in the woods when it came to planning our wedding, I made my first course of wedding planning action a trip to the local bridal fair with my husband and his wonderful parents. My thinking was that I could take care of everything in one fell swoop--sampling and choosing cake makers, dj's, photographers, and musicians. Being an artist myself, I naively assumed that everyone there would be charging some minimal amount because they, like me, are just glad to be getting paid at all to do what they love. Sadly, this was not at all the case, and my first major wedding planning lesson was that THERE IS NO LOVE AT THE BRIDAL FAIR!

 

    Whether or not this is new information to you, let me just share a bit of the education I got during this arduous journey through the land of weddings for sale. Cakes were an average of $2 per guest (with 200 hungry guests you can do the math). Flowers, which I thought I'd be ordering in abundance, cost a minimum of a dollar A PIECE, and the bouquets and boutonniere packages were priced in the hundreds of dollars. The dj's (many of whom I knew personally) charged several hundred dollars for weddings as well, and knowing them outside this setting I knew perfectly well that this was often more than double their regular party fee! Musicians started out at $600 an hour (per person, not group), and went steeply up from there, and the photographers packages ranged from one to two thousand dollars. Decorations like lighting and sparkly baubles added to the price of everything, and after stuffing my bag with all the free cake samples I could get my hands on, I went home that night, laid down on my bed, and cried.

 

    How was I going to have a wedding worthy of the joy and love I'd found with a strict budget cap (according to the Bank of America) of two thousand dollars? How could I make everyone I'd ever cared for feel welcome, entertained, fed, and happy? How could I create a space and an experience that conveyed the limitless potential I see for our lives, when my budget was Limited with a capital L? As it turns out, when I let go of any aspirations toward the weddings other people had planned in that wedding bonanza I attended, my own planning suddenly truly was limitless. My partner and I were able to build not only a perfect day, but a ceremony that reflected the very best of our own personalities, and that symbolized perfectly the communal, joyful, handmade life toward which we were both committing to build.

 

    With all this in mind, I am excited to share how we created a fabulous setting for an afternoon ceremony with a small amount of money and a larger amount of elbow grease! First, having learned that a venue rental starts a nearly $1000 (even the rustic old barn we really wanted was $2,000), we knew the first step was to find a spot we could love that didn't cut our budget in half at the gate. Initially, we enlisted every friend and family memberto spend their free time scouring the countryside for barns that perhaps a farmer would rent us for a lower fee. Another valuable lesson we gained from this is that essentially every barn in the rural Ozarks is either busy housing animals and tractors, filled to the rafters with every trashed household good the neighboring family has produced in the last 100 years, or (and I'm convinced this was the case with a few) is currently concealing dead bodies, stolen goods, or meth labs. Happily, in the great tradition of God closing doors to open windows, I did a little more research and learned that any of our local parks rent out their pavilions and the surrounding land for $89 a day, electricity and trash service included. I reserved our spot at Ritter Springs Park, a beautiful spread of creeks, waterfalls, ponds, hills, and unpaved hiking trails, which is my favorite place anyway, and which is conveniently located 10 minutes from our home. Perfect!

 

    With a plethora of beautiful event spots to choose from, Josh and I decided on a long thin stretch of land that extended out into the middle of the pond/lake area. The land was surrounded on three sides with beautiful sparkling water, and wrapped beyond that by tree andcovered hills. To create an intimate space in this wide and beautiful landscape, we first constructed a chupa under which to be married. This is an old tradition, commonly associated with the Hebrew faith, symbolizing the protection of God, family, and home. Josh and his father went out into the woods where together they cut and stripped four small cedar trees, one from each of the four directions. This alone was a special time for them, and worth the effort for the day they got to spend together. At home, I stitched a canopy top from a bit of the two bolts of muslin I'd bought for the wedding. With craft paint and fabric medium I painted the phrase "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine," a verse from the Song of Soloman, along the two long sides of the rectangular shape, one in Hebrew to reference the Jewish roots of the tradition, and one in gaelic to reflect our own family heritage. On the day of the wedding Josh's friends dug four small holes, we dropped the four posts in, and set the muslin canopy on top, where it framed our ceremony and swayed in the wind. An added bonus to this project is that the canopy now welcomes visitors through the gate to our back yard, a constant reminder of the first thing we built together.

 

    If there was any theme for the wedding at all, it was our shared vision for a sort of Americanized version of an English garden party-- the kind where people dress up and create an elaborate affair in the juxtaposed surroundings of being outside in nature and playing at sports. To this end we opted out of renting 200 chairs (saving $200 and set up time in the bargain), and chose instead to lay out 60 sheets and blankets for our guests to recline on during our ceremony. Many blankets came from our home, and the sheets were supplemented by my mother the queen of garage sales, who spent about $10 collecting them in previous weeks. This was my favorite choice for the wedding! It instantly created a pic-nic energy in the space, and our guests responded really well to it. By the time the wedding party got there, people were sprawled out in the dappled shade and sunshine, catching up with old friends, playing with babies and our golden retriever Djembe, and watching their kids get as close as they could to the water without nosediving into the mud. We'd also thrown every pillow we could find into the mix, so I believe a few people even got a nice pre-wedding nap!

 

    Above all this we used fishing line to hang glass balls and small wind chimes down from tree branches, where they swayed and tinkled, creating just the whimsical fairy land I'd always hoped to stumble into as a child, having read Alice in Wonderland enough to suspect such things might be possible. The chimes were a dollar a piece at a craft shop, and the balls were pricier, but were returned the next day with a receipt, none-the-worse for wear.

 

    With the fresh scent of grass and water, the sparkle of sunshine on glass and chimes and home made chupas, the cushion of blankets and pillows on grass, and the promise of a feast to come, the only sense left to address was sound, and my musician partner was not about to leave this part to chance. Not wanting to splurge on the high priced musicians I'd seen at the bridal expo, I'd decided that I'd take a cue from my Amish friends and simply enjoy the sounds of silence during my walk down the aisle. Josh however, would not hear such blasphemy, and began frequenting cafes and street corners until we found the one. A fun looking guy with long hair and a great vibe, playing his harp at our favorite quirky breakfast joint, Gailey's Cafe in downtown Springfield. He charged us $200 dollars for the whole day, invited us to his delightful house to pick any songs we liked, and played his harp for the entire ceremony, including the hour and half before hand while people were filing in and lounging on the blankets. His music and the feeling he created were beautiful, and completed the setting in such a special way that I hadn't even known to hope for.

    I loved the stage we set for our family and friends so much that in the end, I am glad I was forced into creative alternatives! If I had it to do over again with a limitless budget, I'd opt for the limitless imagination instead, and I can honestly say I wouldn't change a thing.

 

The Two Thousand Dollar Wedding (for 200 happy people)...

 

    As we get to know each other, I thought in the spirit of starting   anew, I'd begin with my last big beginning, my wedding! If ever something was made with just about nothing but dreams, busy fingers, and sweat, this wedding would be it. And it was a great day had by all!

 

     First, I have to say that I was never one of those girls who spent her whole life dreaming of that one special day, so when I found myself proposed to by my favorite tree in the middle of my favorite creek (a proposal that almost didn't happen since I kept turning down my boyfriend's repeated requests for a walk in the cold November wind), no pre-decided images of dresses or settings sprang into my mind.Honestly as a child I didn't even play with my barbies, I just made a lot of clothes and houses for them, and then left them to figure their lives out for themselves-- a habit of craftiness that came in handy during the wedding planning, despite the fact that I'd skipped the lifelong daydreaming part of things.

 

    Second, and just as important, as a couple made up of one artist and one musician, there was no extra money for a wedding, and it turnes out EVERYTHING with the word wedding attatched to it is almost insultingly expensive! What we did have was a credit card with a $2,000 limit, and that was what we used for the whole affair. I even googled the phrase "$2,000 wedding" looking for some good advice to get me started, and the only thing I found was a really great looking plan for a wedding with this budget-- for a wedding of TEN guests. We had closer to 200!

 

    This is where we got creative, and for the next several posts I am passing on every project I did and everything I learned along to you, dear reader. You do not need a lot of money to throw a memorable wedding, party, or get together of any kind! All you need is the freedom to dream, opposable thumbs (or really dexterous toes), and some cooperative friends (like the kind you'd want at your party). So get out your scissors and glue, put away your wallet, and plan your next shindig with everyone you've ever loved!

    
 
 
 
 
 

New Beginnings

 
    For plenty of years now, people have been urging me to write a blog. I socialize in certain circles that could accurately be called extremely diverse, and thanks to my wide variety of friends, I am blessed with fun and new life lessons from just about every direction. I have resisted entering this on-line writing world for a few reasons, chief among them that I   a.) have somewhat accurately been accused of being a luddite (girl who avoids all things modern/mechanical), and   b.)am not sure what I would talk about, beyond the ramblings of every day life. My distaste for computers is just something I'm learning to get over, and perhaps this blog will be a form of behavioral therapy. My fog over what to write about simply blew away this week when my life, as it will sometimes, came suddenly sharply into focus.

    One wants to begin every new project with positivity projected into both the past and future. And it's true there is so much goodness in the world at large, and in my corner of it. I love summer despite this seemingly never ending midwest heatwave. I wait all winter for the trees to have leaves again, and the Ozarks are such a lush landscape, I spend three seasons a year drinking in their leavesand grass and babbling waterways. I make my home in an old two story farmhouse, which started out its life over 100 years ago as a one room school house. I get to walk on the original wood (after I pulled up the "vintage" carpets), and know I share a long history with its smooth worn grain. After what seemed like a long wait to me (33 years to be exact), I got to marry my partner Joshua last year, who is good to me in a way I had literally never known, and whos love and gentle nature are slowly filling in all the cracks in my soul, left there from a long drought and a lot of damage I'd caused it in crashing about so much for so long. I am amazed every day to wake and love everything that surrounds me, even though the rooster crows earlier than I'd prefer, even though the locusts (who I love to hear) are encroaching on the inside of the house. I even get, after years of toil, to make my living as an artist, laboring all day to create what I like, and then putting it out to be absorbed into the world in exchange for enough to pay for my time! Yes, it is a lovely life, and I am thankful for it.

    Still, as is often the case, I am motivated to write now not by the sweet bird song  outside my window, but by its opposite, a sharp pain and loss that pulled me out of my day to day bliss. A child we were expecting, the first, is not coming so soon as we'd planned. I don't know what this means, or how the universe works in reference to when a soul comes or goes. What I do know is that if I claim to believe that all things work for good, I have to believe it when my path is in its darkest place, as much as I do in the lightest. I know a phoenix rises from the ashes, and that is certainly my plan, though at this moment I still sit here in the dirt. I think a time of stillness is appropriate, despite the great discomfort in its beginning.

    So here is the beginning of a new writing project, as I begin the first new steps of life after loss. This kind of hurt isn't new to me, I just thought I'd taken my share of lashings from the world and that my turn was forever over. I don't come from a long path of loveliness, though certainly there has been great beauty and love along the way. There has also been violence, fear, and poverty, and my life, like everyones, has had the potential to go very well or very badly. While I sit here reconfiguring myself, I can look around at this life and know that I have truly built it one scattered stone at a time, and that everything I experience and have is a direct result of my choices, my effort, and my beliefs. I have the husband I have because I didn't marry the jerks who came before him. I have the house I have because I slept on a crowded floor until the right place appeared to me. I am an artist because I am deeply dedicated to not having a full time job! And believe me, being a working artist takes much more time than a 40 hour work week, but it is the choice I made because it is the life I want. How does my current state figure into this worldview, as I wait for broken pieces of me to mend? I wish I had an answer. But is it integral to my path, is my experience and my child's something we both needed? Yes, I believe it is.

    This then, is what we will discuss here. How I build my life, and how you build yours. I make most everything in our home, from clothing to the home furnishings to the food to the entertainment, and I intend to share my how-to secrets with you. As I create my own belongings, my own home and livelihood, and my own path, so you are creating yours too. And here, in a new blog, at another new beginning in my life, I hope the connection between this site and you will spark new creation in your world and mine. I am reminded of a favorite song of mine by Dar Williams "You have come by way of sorrow, you have come by way of tears, but you'll reach your destiny, meant to find you all these years, meant to find you all these years..."

Do I believe in destiny? Sure, why not? Let's roll up our sleeves, fix our eyes forward, get out the needle or the hammer, and head in that direction.