I don't often remember my dreams but last night I did.
I dreamed that there had been a mistake on the paperwork when I bought my house. Instead of there being one house, there were two. The second house wasn't far away, had a plot with potential for a great garden and a house that was falling down. I knew I would tear that house down and build my own. A small house, one less than 400 square feet.
Like the ones in this book I recently checked out:
I've already started the research. These are from my collection of books:
I particularly dream of making a cob house.
I'm not nearly ready to do this, but I do need to build a new chicken coop:
The girls have been asking.
P.S. Here's a TED talk I watched for a class that I am taking for work. I really like what he has to say (although he says it very fast!)
One of the parts I liked the best:
"If you can raise somebody's level of positivity in the present, then their brain experiences what we now call a happiness advantage, which is your brain at positive performs significantly better than at negative, neutral or stressed. Your intelligence rises, your creativity rises, your energy levels rise." Shawn Achor
"I see that the life of this place is always emerging beyond expectation or prediction or typicality, that it is unique, given to the world minute by minute, only once, never to be repeated. And this is where I see that life is a miracle, absolutely worth having, absolutely worth saving. We are alive within mystery, by miracle." Wendell Berry
How it feels at that moment when the clouds clear and the sunlight comes through and creates a moment of light and shadow.
How the making of something can hold love. What it means to make something by hand.
My poncho is 60 inches of cloth. Layers of color and texture; it feels like a hug. It has the capacity to absorb.
It holds gifts from friends and family, memories and reclaims things that might be considered waste. It may shed some of them as time passes. It holds story. And will find more.
It holds time spent being present. Listening (mostly to On Being and to Jude) and thinking. In this way it holds thoughts, dreams, schemes and "what if". And it holds silence, a still mind, something I've come to appreciate more as I've become older.
The casual observer won't know what my story is, but they will be able to create their own..
I've been inside most of the day. Knitting, reading, thinking, napping, cooking. Cleaning house.
Enough rain for a flood watch, enough wind for a high wind warning. I'm posting a mud puddle in front of the gate warning.
The next row of the blanket, multi-colored. Big enough to be a warm layer now as I knit.
The last two peaches for the year were better cooked. Peach clafoutis (the idea from The French Market Cookbook by Clotilde Dusoulier, but the recipe from Cooking at Home on Rue Tatin by Susan Herrmann Loomis as I didn't have almond flour and I knew I liked this version). It was so good I had to remind myself that I like it better cold.
Garden and reading:
I had a gift certificate for my favorite book store. A good choice. I don't really consider myself a "beginner," and it still had some new things I want to try.
The quince is from the garden. I dashed out to pick them between rain showers. My best crop yet. About 20 pounds. The cores of quince (with the pips-the seeds) can be cooked down for a syrup for sore throats. Something I learned from Deborah Madison's book Local Flavors.
This spring I decided to try coneflower one more time. Instead of putting it directly in the ground, I planted it in a clay pot with the intention of putting it in the ground this fall. Did the same thing with some small lavenders and rosemary too.
Hoping that next weekend is drier so I can plant.
Thinking about resiliency as being prepared for whatever storms come our way.