Life is Rhythm

Dear Friends,
My life has been so busy, I often pause and note something that i should share with you all, and then quickly that moment flits away and I'm onto something else. Here are some things I've started to notice around our little hut--butterflies, humming birds, and bees. All so good!!! So beneficial for our plants. This means that nature knows that we are here and beautifing our little piece of land.

The days and weeks are blending together now that school has started. I am thankful for this. We have established a rhythm that the girls are thriving in. I've always known that rhythm provides comfort for me, but never really realized how important it is to the children. It seems obvious to me now. Nature is built on rhythm, and children are so close to nature, it makes perfect sense that they would thrive in rhythmic cycles. For example, Tuesdays are our berry picking/ bread making days, Wednesdays we sew and snack on millet, on Thursdays we have stone soup, and Friday is adventure day-- popcorn and chamolmile tea out in the woods.

We have been busy making our hut into a home. Last week it got down into the 50s, so Matthew fired up the woodburning stove--very nice and cozy. We are ready for Fall. Not quite ready for Winter, we still have to weatherized the windows, put the floor molding down and the inside pine wall panels--lots of work!

I'm FINALLY attching pictures of the inside of our hut. Thank you all for asking for pictures of the inside, the problem was i could never get the place clean enough to take pictures!

One last note of interest. It seems like I'm in some kind of "keeping up with the Jones" out here, but in an alternate universive where its cool to live in the smallest space possible. I had a strange conversation with a flatlander turned homesteader where I mentioned that we lived in an 800-some-odd sq ft house, and she said,"Oh I know, we are in a 600 sq ft house". She one upped me! Can't wait to talk with the new family that moved here from Berkeley to homestead--could they possbily beat 600 sq ft???
Here are the picks.

View from the front door

Livingroom

Kitchen, Matthew making pizza dough. Note the awesome pine shelving!

Girls bedroom loft. Still need to finish railng/fence

Cedar lined bathroom--smells glorious!

You Don't Know How Good Ya Have it, Until Ya Don't

Dear friends,

Many of you know by now, that our family moved back to California after an eight year hiatus in Central Virgina with a short stint living in the upper amazon of Brazil. What most of you don't know is that we lived approximately 40 minutes from "the most sought after farm" in America, Polyface, Inc. While Matthew and I were reading Omnivore's Dilemma, we realized that we lived very close to the "beyond organic" farm portrayed in Michael Pollan's book. In the fall of 2008 we started our quarterly treks out to Polyface. Once there, the girls could run around at will, feeding the hundreds of baby chickens, or walking around the egg mobiles, or hiking out to the pigs in the forested area of the 550 acre spread. It became a wonderful ritual that afforded us a refrigerator full of humanely raised chickens, grass-fed "happy meat", as Grace calls it, and amazing eggs! I didn't realize how good we had it until we moved back to California in the mountains where access to fresh meat is tough to come by.

Since our arrival here at the feet of Mount Lassen, we have become semi-vegetarians. We didn't plan to become veggies, its a natural consequence to limited access. Okay, surely we could go up to the Reeds market at the end of the drive way and get what ever we desired. However, I have seen and read too much about industrial farming that I dare not eat anything that is not humanely raised. Shoot, after the egg scare that is happing right now, can you blame me. Like Matt says, "What in the world are people in California doing eating eggs from Ohio?" Something is wrong with the picture.

I have really been missing the drive out to Joel Salatin's farm and a freezer full of his meats. He and his Son Daniel are the most unassuming, nicest people you could meet. After walking around the farm with the girls, we would hit the shopping list. A double-sided piece of paper, with all the selections and prices printed on it. With our pen, we'd try to figure out how many broilers, ground beef patties, eggs and hotdogs would last us for another 4 months. Joel and Matthew would have long conversations about how to raise cows, hogs, and chickens sustain-ably. You would think that the Salatin's might get a cynical view toward city folks coming down to their farm, (3,000 just last year ) but no. They welcome anyone interested in how to make farming sustainable.

I just finished reading an article about the Salatin's in Ode magazine. The author, Diane Daniel, conveys the sense of owe and humbleness you get from touring the farm. However, her last comment really struck me. She writes, "Finally, we head into town. After all this talk about farming and food, it is time to eat." Often this was a dilemma for our family. The closest town to Polyface is Scottsville, which doesn't have a lot of options for eating local, humanely grown food. I always felt like I was betraying Joel & Daniel, by stopping at the Five Guys on the way home for lunch. Eventually, we just couldn't do it any longer and we started packing bigger snacks for the trip back home.

So, we've been looking into options here and have found the Lazy 69 Ranch which is about an hour and half from here. BUT, as far as I can tell they don't have public hours--which really bites, since being on the farm is such a great experience for the girls. Well, at least they sell their meat locally down in Redding. Its chicken for dinner tonight!

Fresh Paint Always Makes a Difference

My sister once told me, "if you really want to clean your house, paint the walls". As I power washed the front of the Hut, I noted all the crap and dirt that flowed off the porch--she had a point. Over the past 10 days I've been busy painting, setting up house, getting ready to homeschool our rising 1st grader, and working every morning from 6AM to 1230PM. I have to say, i'm starting to settle into a routine, which for me, provides comfort.

Our little hut is quite cozy. At first I thought that we would be stepping all over each other in the 576 sq ft living space. But in actuality, its plenty of room to live and not feel cramped. Although we had to put most of our furniture and 1/2 of the kids toys in the storage space (because they won't let us sell ANYTHING at the garage sale we're having next weekend!).

I'm starting to like living with little. Not too long ago, I heard about a project called What Not to Wear: The Six Items or Less Project. The project dares you to live off of six items of clothing for a month. I thought, "I could do this, now that I don't go into an office everyday". So, I'm in the process of doing "The 10 Items or Less Project"-year round! Can I do it??? More to come on this challenge. Now back to the paint!

I decided to put a coat of paint onto the front of the hut even though, eventually, the front will be covered by pine shingles. Check out the before and after below. Matt's Mom suggested that I paint a mural on the top that is still the old color. What a great idea!!! I've always wanted to paint a mural, so here's is my opportunity (she's always presenting me with awesome opportunities). Any ideas? I've thought of a couple, a sun like the Save Tibet image, or the awesome sunset that simmers golden, silhouetting the pine trees everyday. What do you think? Suggestions??

Over the River and Through the Woods...

The past couple of days I've been flooded with childhood memories, and deep nostalgic feelings. I grew up down in Southern California, in a once small town on the ocean--Oceanside.

In 1946, my Great-Grandparents, Andrew & Lia Imbilli, moved the entire family from Brooklyn, NY to Oceanside, CA. G-G Imbilli had purchased a lot just east of what is now Interstate 5 freeway. Of course, back then, there was nothing but a dirt road all the way down to the coastline (about a mile away). The family moved into a large house on a hill, and started in on building six houses on the lower part of the property, on a dead end street later named after the patriarch, Andy Lane. The houses were built in Mediterranean fashion, much like the houses in Sicily, with large open air patios built right into the middle of the house. About a year after my parents were married in 1960, they moved into one of the six houses.

Our house was situated between my Grandparents (who lived in the main house on the hill), and my great Uncle and Aunt across the street. As kids, we had family all around, all the time. Our kitchen door was always open, and at any given time some relative would stop in for coffee or dinner, or a game of canasta.

It was a great childhood. Running up to Grandma's house for homemade cannolis, or over to Uncle Johnny's house for a fresh sandwich from Claro's Italian deli. I was surround by love and security. Of course, I took all this for granted. It wasn't until later in life that I realized how rare it was to live in an extended family community. A rare lifestyle that, up until a year ago, I thought I could never replicate for my children. But, here we are... literally steps away from grandparents. How wonderful it is that my children will get to experience a part of that love and security! To be able to skip through the woods to Grandmother's house.

Blisters & Dirty Nails

Dear Friends,

I was reminded of my first week here in the mountains when I looked at my hands this afternoon--rough, blistered, and dirty. They reminded me of a vendor I met at the Farmers Market. She was earthy looking, with her hair in semi-dreads pulled back in a bandanna, a sleeveless t-shirt, and Levis. As she discussed the benefits and beauty of the Jewelweed plant to me, I noticed how rough and dirty her hands were--a result, no doubt, of spending many hours lovingly tending to her medicinal plants. I thought she was beautiful. A real 'woman of the land'.

I later found out that she was, what the locals call, a "flatlander". Three years ago she and her family had moved up to Northern California from San Diego to go back to the land. According to the local paper, The Ridge Rider News, city slickers are invading the tiny town, replacing John Deer with BMW's. I guess that's what we are, city slickers.

Now back to my ailing hands! This past week I put in a flower bed on the side of the Hut, added more to the meditation garden in the front, and mulched the entire back yard with fresh pine and cedar chips that the power company left for us after cutting down trees around the power lines. The smell is absolutely delicious. Like when you drag in that fresh cut Christmas tree. By the end of the week, my nails were tattered and dirty (no matter how much i scrubbed), and I had a huge aching purple blood blister throbbing on lower thumb from raking the mulch for hours.

What I learned is that you shouldn't mulch too close to the house, which can be an inviting place for rodents, working for hours on end in the soil is really good for the soul, and I should have worn gloves.

Side flower bed and pine & cedar mulch.

Front flower bed

The Guts of the Hut

Coming to terms with the guts of our hut in April was quite a struggle. It looked pretty bad (pics below), but I could see the potential. I started researching yurts to see how people made the most out of a small space. I found some really interesting structures and I got excited about the idea of downsizing our lives. Simultaneously, a friend of mine who was really concerned about the peak oil crisis, gave me some literature. After reading the articles it seemed like a good idea to start thinking about reducing our family's dependency on fossil fuels.

The Hut had a wall that ran right down the middle of it, with two front doors. My thought was to pull down the wall and make the hut, like a yurt, one open space with high ceilings and loft for the kids bedroom. I was delighted to learn the next day after making the suggestion, that the wall as down and a loft started! My father-in-law, Jerry, master craftsman (could give Dick Proenneke a run for his money) did just that. (see below).

Front view and before the wall came down.

After the wall came down, the loft at the top; a backyard view.

Stuff

Why do we pack and unpack stuff that is not essential in our lives? This was the question that kept running through my mind while looking at our daunting stacks of boxes. How can we possibly have this much stuff!? Which got me to thinking about why we insist on lugging around nonessential items.

When I opened one of the many boxes marked 'kitchen', I took inventory: dish rack, dish cloths, dish soap, sponges, a pencil, some beads, and three spoon rests. Wait! This box held exactly everything that was on my kitchen counter when in Virginia. Could packing up every single thing, even though most items could be easily obtained once settled, be a coping mechanism?

Was I packing the secure surroundings of my Charlottesville, into a box hoping to transport that security to a new home? Hummmm. maybe. But really, three spoon rests? beads? a pencil?!

Yes, its time to purge...downsizing is more than just cutting our square footage in half, its cutting the ties, loosening the anchors, and coping with change.

First Report

A year ago, Matthew & I decided to move in with his mother. Okay, not exactly move in with her, but move to the property that she and her husband own in Northern California. We were living in Charlottesville, Virginia at the time and needed to make the move back to our home turf. We were to make a home out of an old quonset hut, used by loggers decades ago. When I saw pictures of the property in April, 2010, I cringed and thought, "Cancel the plans! I'm staying in my cozy house with central air!" The photos captured the rotten insulation, rusted windows, well webbed corners, and plywood floors. Matt was even a bit skeptical that a home could be made of this building.

We arrived in Shingletown (population 2,625),tired, hot and dusty from our eleven day trek across the United States with our 6 and 4 year-old daughters, and Hank the cat. We tent camped at state parks which was both challenging and fun. The highlight was finding a hotspring in the middle of a dried up lake bed in Eastern Oregon. It was July 1st when we arrived in Shingletown, and I was relived to be at our final destination.

After the hugs went around, we walked the cedar & pine tree lined path up past the horse corral to where the quonset hut stood. We had our work cut out for us! The metal siding and half-circle shape make it look like a tin can cut in half. I was a bit concerned, my first thought was, "we have way too much stuff!" All our belongings were being shipped via PODS and at this point, I felt like we only could fit a 10th of it inside the Hut.

During Matthew's initial trip in April, he put in a vegetable garden and helped replace all the insulation in the Hut. The space would be livable but it will take some doing. Our idea was to downsize, live simple, try to live off the land as much as possible. And it does feel good to slow down, work hard, and to create a healthy lifestyle for the children.

We set to work right away, patching drywall, sanding, drilling, cutting, wiring, taking breaks to discuss where shelving would go, or outlets. Hot and dusty! The outdoor shower that we put in last year on our visit, was a welcome relief on the days that reach 95 degrees.

Its been 3-weeks since our arrival here, and we have made great strides. We moved in the Hut five days ago and on our fist night a four-point buck welcomed us by strolling through the backyard. The girls giggled with delight.