Water Concerns (Part 2)

            One of the good things about the Internet (and Facebook in particular) is its ability to draw folks together when a call to action is in order. One such scenario now taking place is the growing number of pics and posts by concerned customers of Laguardo Utility District as we note something seriously disconcerting coming from our water pipes.

            While a nuisance for holiday settings and costlier yet for ruined dishwashers and Keurig brewers everywhere, I fear these are the least of our problems.

            At the risk of speaking out of turn (for if ever calm heads need prevail, now is that time) it seems a thorough investigation (along with more testing, more discussion, more answers) is in order, after all there is a huge difference between taking note and taking action. To get to real answers,  a structured and orderly plan is needed and needed now. (So far I've seen lots of pictures, but no suggestions.)

            Personally I've been concerned about our water for awhile now, though my initial concerns did not start with cloudy glasses, but instead with my neighbors--specifically, my neighbors with cancer. Of all the people I know on my road (I know or knew 12), more than half have battled, are battling or have succumbed to the disease. My uncle died of bladder cancer. His wife, of blood cancer, (leukemia.) Another battles prostate cancer (with weakened kidneys noted as contributing to the complications). His wife deals in perpetual bladder infections and his mother was recently hospitalized for a severe kidney infection. Three other neighbors have had skin cancer; one has died. Another neighbor, likewise won the prostate cancer battle. I, myself, have gall stones.

            Am I saying our water caused this? No. I am saying it seemed a high statistic for one street and it is what piqued my curiousity both personally and as a journalist. I am also saying that the most recent test results I’ve been able to find on our water quality are not good as it pertains to contaminants (See link below.) That things appear to have gone from bad to worse since Laguardo switched us from lake to ground water is something I also want answers for. (i.e. How bad was the city's lake water that left this our best alternative?)

            One of the many benefits of participating in our county’s Master Gardening program are the people you meet and the resources you come across. Having read a recent blog of mine on the subject, one of my fellow classmates wrote to me two days ago to offer insight. (Note: She does not work for Laguardo, but is trained in these matters) She shared:

You are correct in the assumption that the water quality did change when the utility company switched from lake sourced water to a well.  Your water went from soft to hard.  

 In our area, ground water can be high in total dissolved solids (iron, manganese and magnesium).  Most conventional soaps and detergents don't do well with hard water.  As a result of that, you see films and water spots on just about everything.  Try switching to products made for use in hard water.

Utility companies are required by law to send their customers a Consumer Confidence Report (CCR).  It is usually is in a water bill.  One of the parameters listed is total dissolved solids.  It may be interesting to compare the before and after numbers. 

            Given I pay my bills automatically, I have not seen this report, though I am looking into it. As a matter of animal husbandry, I will be independently testing my water to compare it to what I will soon be switching to, having just dug a well. 

           Though not an alarmist, this is serious stuff in anybody’s book.

            I have neither the time nor the interest for spearheading some crusade, rather, it is my goal as a girl who writes about her experiences in farming and sustainability to share personal observations, including any steps I might take out of concern for myself, my animals and the people I love. That it falls within the purview of what I blog about, the topic is fair game, and my concerns, sincere and valid. That said, I am not an investigative reporter; I am not an attorney; nor am I a scientist, though I am hopeful that people in these professions along with the necessary others will join forces (and soon) to create a proper panel to investigate this matter as I suspect the problem may be bigger than a few dirty dishes (and I'm not crazy about the dirty dishes).

http://www.water-delivery.org/WaterQuality/Lebanon/Wilson_County/Tennessee/Laguardo_Utility_District

A Quieter Kind of Thanksgiving

     Having entered the holiday weekend attending a memorial for a friend, it was a different holiday for me this year. Nothing zippy about it. Just a quiet day to reflect. Something about watching a friend's ashes being cast from a place he so loved, and a place he himself went to reflect, made me want to reflect, and so I spent my day doing just that...

These Things We Pray

     I long ago gave up praying for patience, as the lessons that accompanied that little request always showed up in the darndest moments and in the most frustrating of ways.
     I used to pray for happiness, though with time I have come to realize that happiness is a fleeting emotional state...one you can't stay in forever even if you tried. The thing I believe we are really shooting for when offering up any request involving emotions or moods (usually offered to get out of one we don't like) is peace or peace of mind. A peaceful mental state does not run from the sadder emotions; instead, it treats emotions like house guests. They come. They go. They alert you to something you need to know and then, they are supposed to pass. Some we like better than others. Some stay too long and we wish they'd leave. In asking for peace of mind, I freed up a lot of energy I'd been wasting trying to avoid the emotions I liked least. I came to recognize is not wrong to be sad when someone dies or you lose a cherished pet... To the contrary, "sad" is the proper emotion and it would be sadder yet (and not too peaceful in your head, btw) if you didn't feel anything at all in these moments.
     But here of late a new word has crept into my prayer vocabulary...a recurring word...and that word is "meaning".  If I could have but one prayer word... one wish granted...one Christmas gift from God, here lately the word I keep coming back to is "meaning"~
     Whether I've stumbled onto this one as a matter of concern for how much of material, worldly life comes across as meaningless to me these days from senseless murders to horrific wars to crappy television shows to Black Friday Christmas sales, I have come to recognize that my own little peaceful moments are those of meaning...and not necessarily huge meaning. The smallest moments are usually my best (like looking out the window just as Charlie-goat shows Hix how to head butt or jump on a spool).
    Having numbed out the news, having muted the commercials, having blocked out the things I used to worry about and for which I have absolutely no control, I find myself turning to the things that I might actually affect, be it friends going through things, be it ME going through things...When I can say "God, point me toward the meaning here..." a sense of hope is born. For that reason I now weigh shows to watch, which events to attend or which conversations to engage in, prefacing these decisions with a quick assessment of "Will there be meaning or will this wind up a shallow exchange of my precious energy?" (in which case, I'd rather pass, even if just to stay home and hug big dogs).

     Whether "Will there be meaning?" or "Help me find meaning..." or "Let me bring some facet of meaning to this situation or equation..." the gist of the request is to find and focus on whatever worthwhile there might be in what I'm choosing to participate in...and whoever I'm choosing to participate with (be it group, friend, pup or goat).
     Whether laughing or crying, alone or with another, to me it feels a lack of meaning is in large part to blame for a world in so much pain.
   

Rosey 1: Coyotes 0

   

     There are barks and there are barks...and then there are the growls. Each sound sends a message and when it comes to Pyrs (as with any breed you live with long enough) you start to recognize the differences if you listen close enough. Even when they wake you, there's comfort in hearing the sounds a dog makes, especially those hired to keep an eye out for things.
     But let a thing get a lit-tle too close...All bets are off. Intruder Beware!
     Such was the case of Wiley Coyote (may he RIP). I'm sure he was somebody's papa, but on Rosey's turf, Rosey rules. Next time, dude, you might wanna do your prowling elsewhere.
     Graciously she spared me the gory details; my only clue that something was up when I couldn't get Rosey out of the garden a night ago. My first thought went to deer. It is not uncommon this time of year to see deer parts in your yard (gross as they are to find). Some deer fall wounded (more common with bow hunters). Some remains are left behind from cleaning, (leaving guts behind for buzzards is not uncommon in the country...Deer guts, btw, are called "umbles" It's where we get the phrase "Umble Pie" (often mistaken for "Humble Pie" though the phrase origin has to do with deer intestines made into pies for serfs and servants, so as to make use of every possible piece of a slaughtered deer, i.e. the "chitlins" of a deer....Little "I Didn't Know That" moment for you).
     All a part of nature. All a part of life in the country. (Insert your Lion King/Disney tune here.)
     But in the unsolved mystery of "What the heck is Rosey eating?" from a night ago, it was an Agatha Christy moment when by the light of day I made my way cautiously, delicately out to where she was once again, hunkered down over her prey, growling her guttural victory growl, uncertain if I was there to scold or remove or both. (Trust me. I'm not THAT stupid.)
     Definitely not a scolding moment. No, no. Nay, nay. This was a "GOOD DOG ROSEY! GOOD GRRRRRRL!" kinda moment, for Rosey had done what God put Pyrenees on the planet to do: Rosey had killed herself a coyote!
     Let the record reflect (having raised Huskies and wolf breeds in a prior life) I probably would've cried had I witnessed this first hand, after all, this creature must surely have a family of its own given the eerie-baby cries we've been hearing recently...(For those who've never heard this, there is no sound in the world like a bunch of coyote pups howling at the moon...One of the most unique, albeit, spine-tingling noises you'll ever hear.) Why I'm sure Wiley was just shopping for groceries like the rest of us, but (sorry dude) my goats are not your Butterball!
     Thankfully Rosey (and God) spared me the worst of it. By the time I found what was left of the dude, Rosey was paws to pelt, crunching on his head giving me this: "Let me just polish this off" kinda glance.
     Meanwhile, back in the pen were three super impressed (though slightly jealous) relatives and 16 very relieved goats (perched high atop their spools)!

   
   

Something in the Water

   

      I much prefer the spiritual version..the uplifting and inspirational connotations to the phrase that Carrie Underwood sings about, but for those of us on a certain local water system, the concept is hardly so scriptural...(More like downright scary...)
     While making for great Facebook posts as like-minded, equally concerned citizens work to repair dishwashers and invest in pricy filtration systems, there is no denying, here locally there's something in the water...
     Some say it happened when Laguardo Utility District changed from river water to ground water. No doubt something has changed big time, and some think it less than coincidental that the residue showing up on everyone's dish ware and flatware seems to have coincided about the time they opened their new plant...
     But while rumors swirl, and Thanksgiving dishes go dingy, there is a very real, very disconcerting situation going on here and lest we treat it too lightly, may we not forget that this is the water that cleanses our bodies, stays in our hair, goes through our organs and waters our animals (and livestock, which for some, will likewise wind up in our bodies). And let's not forget our gardens.
     Not sure who will be the first to go Brocovich on the matter (for clearly we all live busy lives) but I'm hoping someone will as we may regret we didn't take it more seriously the second we all started spotting the problem...(literally).
     Personally, it is of some comfort that I am soon to be able to switch to well water. (Not a cheap investment, but thinking ahead to future plans, it seemed the wisest move.) In the meanwhile, I'm still on the system gaining popularity right now (for all the wrong reasons). Sure it may be lime or calcium. Then again, it may be worse. Either way, you don't have to be a scientist to note that something nasty is going on with the water in our pipes.
     It's a subject of great concern to me. And one I am starting to ask questions about...
    When I learn more, if I learn more, I will keep you posted.

Distractions and Focus

     Two sides / Same coin.
     (Seems dichotomy is my word for the week.)

     On a day I woke up to so many challenges I didn't even want to get out of bed, I kept to my pre- scheduled "to do" list....Why? Because I had a test. And sometimes, when I'm not quite sure where life is taking me, I sign up for a course... Cause even if I'm not so sure where the current of my river is flowing, well at least with a course, there's a syllabus to help me paddle through!

     Good news: Test passed!

     Funny part, as I arrive home to unwind and make a late night snack for some really deserving pups... A friend texts to ask: "What nutball chooses exams to unwind by?"

     (Turns out, I do. Not that I love exams. I don't. But turns out it's my own little brain trick...When it is imperative I focus, I focus. For all the other ADD-support group wanna be's out there, I'm sure you get this...Those who don't...Well, that's ok too. We've got a chair for you in the next meeting.)

     Meanwhile, I'm in.  Mission accomplished. Tomorrow I'll resume the whole "falling down rafters/ floors with no bracing/ missing materials/ barn wood that never got delivered/ billing situation" that today I opted to block from my head in order to pass my final exam so as to be a better gardener.

     Point is, my mind and my life craved this distraction today...For reasons more personal than a blog will permit, I needed this. (Did I mention I passed?) Makes me master of nothing mind you, but when cramming for tests is preferable to the petty, worldly squabbles of your day it does kinda make you want to hunker down, open a journal and take a few notes....

     (at least it does for me)

     Good news is...Tomorrow's a new day...(and everything put on hold today, will no doubt, be right there waiting for me in the morning....of this I'm sure).

On Meaningful Friendships

     I had lunch today with a friend--one I don't see often enough. No matter how long we go between visits, I can count on our talks to be poignant...the take-away, always leaves me reflecting. We laugh a lot (mostly at ourselves) and we don't waste time on chit chat. I don't think we've ever discussed a TV show or a rumor we've heard, though we're big on sharing book ideas, new authors we've discovered or an insight that has moved us in some way.
     To me, that's what friendship is...a mirror on what matters...a pause on the "play" button of our lives where we stop to observe, through the eyes of someone we trust, what's really happening to us...how we really feel about things....where life finds us in the here and now.
     I've heard it said that our friends are those who bring out the side of us we like best--and the people who get under our skin, bring to light the persona we'd rather not acknowledge. To me, a friend is the person who is aware of both, and allows you to make peace with each. Sure, I'm happy to share what's working in my life, but truthfully, that's not where the growth happens. In friendship terms, that's not where roots grow deep. I've found it's in sharing the fears and the uncertainties that you really start to know a person. What worries silently haunt? What keeps us awake at night? I've come to realize that the tighter I keep these thoughts to myself, the more shallow the encounter...the more surface the friendship. Granted, there's a time and place (and certainly select people) for these moments, as sadly, there are those who delight in knowing your troubles. (Oh, to avoid these types entirely, but sadly, life does not always work that way.)
     I also have friends who prefer a perky, peppy me to anything resembling contemplative... Some simply need a break from their own problems; sadly, others have so identified with their problems, true help is not the goal of the conversation to start with, so you give 'em a boost and move on. These folks can usually count on my co-dependent, people-pleasing persona to give 'em my last ounce of juice, but while peppy in the moment, I've found these seldom evolve into my deeper, more meaningful relationships.

     It seems to me a strange dichotomy that while we all strive for perfection, perfection is not the stuff that deep friendships are made of. To the contrary, I've found it to be the very raw, very real imperfections we feel safe enough to share, that marks a friendship's depth potential. To voice the vulnerable, admit the uncertainties, doubts... even fears within the confines of a sacredly held friendship is a priceless treasure, for once you found a safe place to do so, knowing that the person across the table will love you in spite of your human frailties, even because of them...is to me, the mark of a genuinely meaningful friendship.

TJ My Protector Dog

     For reasons I can't explain there is something about this massive dog protecting his favorite stuffed toy that cracks me up.  TJ, seen here, chooses bunnies over bones any day, and should you dare consider trying to take it from him, well you'll be drawing back a nub.
     (The lighter side of my day today. Some days (most days) it takes the critters to keep it in perspective. In TJ's world, it's all about the bunny.)

Tiny Houses

 

 There's a new trend on the horizon; (or perhaps it's been trending for awhile now and I've been under a rock). I've heard it call minimalism. I'm now hearing it called the "tiny house movement". In short, it's about minimizing the "stuff" that surrounds you to free up your funds, your space, your energy....your life!
     The antidote to hoarding, this movement is the equivalent to living in a dry docked boat...supplies for which are numbered; excess for which means you'd have to remove something before you could bring something else on board.
     Some choose it for financial reasons; nearly all come to it for sustainability. Others are simply tired of maintaining too much "stuff" and have chosen to rid their lives of all but the basics. The good news is, that in ridding their lives of that which stagnates and stops the flow of things (been there; done that; got the T-shirt...it's in a pile somewhere), they are opting for a fraction of the traditional Americana home both in size and in bills... Where most of us like starter homes averaging 1,200 -1,500 square feet, tiny homes can come as small as 120 - 150...The larger versions may reach 380 or 400, but not much beyond.
     In  a nutshell, it forces you to take with you only what you need. Forget sentimentality, the meaning we place on an object is not in the object itself but the thought we tie that object. The good news is, their movement is starting to generate conversation. I'm for anything that prompts us to think.
     There's even a TV show on the subject. (It's on the FYI network, wherever that is on your dial.) It follows the reasons behind and the challenges involved in opting for such drastic downsizing. While I can't say I am ready just yet, I must confess, there's a part of me that really envies these people...(for their bravery even more than their cute little digs).

Heat. It's a Beautiful Thing.

   

     One early blast of winter and my mind did a flash back to last year's propane bill. I had spent all summer studying the concept, (indoor, outdoor, cobb versions, etc).  A wood-burning stove was definitely in my future. Turns out that future was today.

     What I didn't know was how many makes, models, shapes and sizes they come in, nor how heavy the darn things can be, but starting with critters first (people second) I began checking everything from Craig's List to salvage yards before running across one that looked a bit like a train. Its cast iron belly and iron plate stove top were the things Westerns are made of. Totally charmed by its character and impressed by its functionality, I couldn't help but wonder, "If the grid went down tomorrow, how much would I love this stove?" 

      Why I could heat my coffee, fry my bacon, and bake a loaf of bread while warming my entire barn. Starts to make sense how our modern day stovetop /oven combos came to be.  I could only imagine the stories this heap of metal could tell and the meals it served up hot to Lord knows who back in the day.

     Several phone calls, questions and 5 men to lift the thing and my barn was sporting her first fully functional accessory-- a wood-burning stove so heavy duty it can heat downstairs stalls and tack room, loft, rafters and beyond. (We're talking one hefty stove!)

     Yes, it requires flooring sturdier than the flooring we'd intended; and yes, it will require walls or fencing, as that surface is the sort of things goats live to jump on (granted, they'd only do it once, but once would do it.)

     With final repairs underway, a roof over their little goat heads and hay in their bellies, next up is heat! While the dogs can't have it cold enough, my goats prefer "toasty" making it a race against time as the girth of each mama-to-be grows in inverse proportion to each drop of the temperature. Next week it's full throttle as we batten up remaining gaps, seal up the tin roof's holes and get the goat nursery ready for a barn full of babies. (If the grid goes down tomorrow, you'll find me with the kids!)

The Difference in Farm Dogs

     Last night the temps dropped drastically...marking the first blast of our winter season.
     Today, on three separate occasions, I glance out a window to see four big white dogs appearing as dead.
     Turns out, my Great Pyrenees were NOT dead...Rather, they were sleeping....deeply....their first real sleep of the season...(I've no doubt they're kin to things that hibernate; I can't tell you how much these dogs love cold weather.)
     Once I knew they were fine, I resumed my normal farm chore duties. They lifted their heads long enough to see it was me...thumped their tails from the ground to say "Yeah. It's you. If it's important, I'll get up. But only if it's really important..." (By the time I opened the gate with food, turns out, it was important after all.)
     Honestly, we were probably closer to calling 911 in the summer months; but they weren't so readily visible then. In the heat of the summer, each dog hunkered down under the shadiest part of each rock, each tree, each free standing shed...Doing his/her best to stake out cool turf. (It's the hot that'll get 'em...The cold...? Well, cold they can't get enough of...Cold is their friend...They are just now entering their happy season.)
     I head out tonight to toss one last bale of hay to the kids...
     I scream "TJ!" thinking "what if I was wrong about all this?" (I kid you not. He really did appear as dead.)
     But just like my first yell of the morning to Rosebud...TJ gives one solid tail thump to ground as if to say "Fooled ya." (Or else he was saying, "Finally...a decent round of sleep...")
 

Heat & Hay

     I must be the only girl in the world who loves inspectors! (No, not Clouseau. I'm talking the barn building kind.) As we sort through the rubble of what did not get done, and discover things that did, (but so poorly they had to be redone) there are but two things on my mind right now and those are: heat and hay.

     Sadly, when your tin roof sports holes (done on purpose I'm told, for the "old barn/character look"...I kid you not) ... it interferes with hay deliveries. (Rotting hay will kill a goat, btw; and thanks to it being this late in the season, hay has now gone from $2 to $4 to $8 a bale...an indirect cost to me for only now having the space to store it securely in the dry.)

     Sadly, when your barn doors won't close (there's gotta be a second grade joke in there somewhere, but in all seriousness) when your sliding doors lack tracking, with gaps between sides and bottom demand repair so as to not be paying to heat the great outdoors, again, indirect costs begin to mount (on top of the costs you've already incurred through missing materials, poor workmanship and that all important commodity: time).
     But fixing things that others did poorly (or not at all) is one thing. Loss of life is quite another. With mama goats ready to drop babies any day now, nothing else matters but getting the place battened down and ready for winter. (Sadly, we're minus a few batten strips as well.) Today held one mission and one mission only: get this place ready for babies!
     Fortunately, for every problem there lies a solution; for every one that lets you down, God sends others to restore your faith. Today's been all stalls, all heat, all hay, all the time. The place was hopping. With inspections pending, we're down to the wire on winter; lives are at stake.
     To my goat-lovin', weather-watching friends who drove miles out of their way to deliver hay way after dark, thank you for your goat-lovin', compassionate hearts.
     To the fix-it team of "Solutions / Not excuses" - Welcome aboard! (And thanks for hustling!)
     As for me, here's to another round of learning experiences to add to all the rest...Another lesson learned...Another day in the diary of a first time farmer.

Much Better Way to Spend a Day

     (It's all a matter of perspective)

     There comes a point...

     When you suddenly stop and realize, "Ya know what? I know this problem a little too well.  I've got its language down pat...Got the details...Know the story...Gone over (and over) the trivial...Lived both the trauma and the drama of your repeated excuses....

     At which point (if we really want out) we re-adjust our internal spotlight and wait for Mr. Solution to step up to the mic ~ (only usually it's not a mic, but a still small voice, but to be sure,  it will stand out from all the other voices in the room)


     As Einstein pointed out: Answers don't happen at the level of the problem...
     Got to rise above 'em~ and be mindfully on the lookout (assuming you're serious about this stuff, which I am)

     Here's to living, loving and looking for solutions~ in days like today...in Every day.

     (Lord knows, the world as we know it today constitutes the "Problem Land"...)

     Time to rise above 'em.

Energy Bank Account

     I wake up each day asking, "How will I spend this day?" and by "spend" I mean just that.
     Each morning before feet hit the floor, lists get tackled and action gets underway, I contemplate the expenditure of what magically, mystically got deposited overnight in the bank account of my life. I ask myself,  "Where, Evins, will you spend your allotment of energy today?
     It's not a financial account, mind you...but an energy fund -- funded by the Universe through the miracle of sleep, exchange for which is mine alone to direct toward those areas I choose (wisely or foolishly, for better or worse).
      Funding of this account is completely unearned. It's a gift...an inheritance of sorts... deposited in the silence of sleep in account bearing my name (otherwise known as my life).
     I can exchange this currency responsibly--give it over to my work, my writing, my creations...
     I can exchange it for relationships--for those I care about,  the people and causes I feel called to help, or those I just enjoy being with.
     I can even exchange them for my own selfish pleasure if I so choose... A mindless TV show here, a book I've been longing to curl up with...there. It's easy to waste these units if you're not careful. We're an ADD culture that loses piles of this currency to distractions like Facebook or On Demand or computer games.
     No matter what I choose, this is one exchange unit I can never get back. Once it's spent, it's spent. Yes, Lord willing, if I wake again tomorrow, there'll likely be something in the account. (Some days more; some days less...Lots has to do with how I spent yesterday's units, and the day before that, and the day before that.)
      Call it God, credit angels, call it life, but that's how I view sleep and how I approach each day and this gift called "energy" which I'm sad to say, I have, in my past, too often taken for granted.
      I fall asleep literally "spent" and wake up account renewed~ For the life of me I do not know how it happens, nor did I in any way earn the life force that made its way back in.  All I know is to be gifted with another day means the least I can do is mindfully consider those things I choose to spend my energy on. I open my eyes asking "How best can I spend it today?" or "Can I do better today than yesterday?"
     Good or bad, my stewardship of this account is mine to manage and the older I get the more I conscientious I've become of just where I'll place my energy and how I'll invest my time.
 

Gimme a "P" !! (Not YOU, Hix!)

     Ok. Anyone who knows anything about Pyrenees know they live to protect. Around here, I have so many, it can sometimes get confusing as to who's protecting what, so we keep a chart.
     TJ (alpha male) protects the goats.
     Rosey (TJs sister) protects the girl. (That would be me.)
     Rosebud (Rosey's daughter) pretends to protect her uncle TJ but mostly protects the perimeter at night.
     That leaves Hiccapup, (aka Hix) who has taken it upon himself to protect anything and everything that remains; his favorite being Minsky. (He'd like to protect Boo, though Boo is having no part of it, and now I know why.)

      I was deeply moved to watch Hix go above and beyond to let Minsky know he had her back. (Sadly, Minsky at nearly 15, is for all practical purposes deaf, so Hix (listen closely) whimpers in such high pitch decibels, she can (for a brief second) hear him; she feels him near).  Having reached for my camera to turn up the sound in this precious exchange, I had not paid attention to the image...until now. (Had to laugh to keep from crying...This SO sums up my week, my night, my life...)

Shifting Directions/Shifting Energies

   

     While crop rotation and soil fertility may not hold your attention for long, these are the sorts of things I turn to when in need of distraction. Personally, I'm proud to come from a state whose motto is "Agriculture and Commerce" ~ So while studying for my Master Gardening final, I found great comfort in consciously redirecting my thought energies toward something more hopeful, sustainable and life-giving (even if it means enduring catastrophic collapse, which is precisely what happened to my first set of barn rafters, so thinking about it in future tense wasn't all that big a deal).
     In case you're not from here (or in case you missed this lecture in 6th grade geography) we here in Middle Tennessee live in a very unique section of the country (if not the world)...a place some of Wall Street's best land planners have predicted will be America's "Garden of Eden" should the world turn on its axis.
      Following population migratory patterns, some have gone so far as to suggest we're but a couple more earthquakes and a handful of hurricanes away from the whole country gravitating inland, where (climate changes permitting) greener pastures and more balanced seasons lend more hope for house stability and sustainable living. (Granted, last year's arctic blast threw even us Tennesseans for a loop.)
      As for me,  I say hold onto your farms everyone!
      Granted it was a tectonic plate shift even then that created our Home Sweet "Central Basin" Home, but the bottom line is: shifts happen...and psychics and geologists alike agree: shifts are poised to happen again.
      To better grasp our future, perhaps we're best studying our past. All I can say is, when those plates shifted, strange (albeit beautiful) things happened, (like Cedars growing on rock and underground lakes forming as Lost Seas*)....What the next shift brings, remains to be seen . . .

1. The "Guinness Book of World Records" lists the Lost Sea in Sweetwater as the largest underground lake in the United States.

Contagious Energies

     Ever been in a yawn-fest? You know...when one person's yawn can set off a chain reaction, prompting another, then another, then another to yawn in suit? There's actually a name for this phenomenon (a phenomenon that occurs, by the way, only in humans and chimps). It's called contagious yawning.
     Amazing how much research has been done on the subject. (One could lose hours to googling these things.) Seems the latest theories tie it to an empathy gene within the homo sapien species. In other words, the more empathetic you are, the more likely you are to yawn when you see another person yawn, and vice versa (i.e. the less empathetic, the less likely someone else's yawn is to affect you. They say 2-year-olds old hardly do it at all. Isn't the internet wonderful?)
     Can't speak for the studies, but there is something to contagious energies. Last week I saw a Facebook post of a woman on a subway laughing at something on her phone, prompting another to laugh at her laughing, and so on and so on, until finally the whole train car was in stitches. You watch it to the end and you'll be laughing yourself, that's how contagious these energies can be.
     What is true for yawning and laughter, however, is likewise true for the opposite side of the energy spectrum, such as when a day or a project gone awry just keeps on keeping on spiraling ever downward. (Gremlins! I if they ever find you, they arrive in a clown car.) At some point you need to just stop what you're doing and start all over again when the coast is clear.
     I'm keenly sensitive to energies like these especially when it comes to buildings, for this is when things get sloppy as folks rush to complete something they hadn't paid much attention to in the first place. By definition, the creative process is about "flow" and if that flow ever starts heading in the wrong direction: Katie-bar-the-door. Like yawns, pretty soon everything starts to follow suit.

God bless my worker-bee, Eric.
Pretty sure this was not in his job description!

     In a moment of "gotta laugh to keep from crying" I asked my contractor to come see me for a minute as I watched him bring a small load of lumber onto a job that should not have run out. The purpose of my request was not to voice anger, but rather, share my experience in these things whereby  if we don't get this on the right track, we will all suffer, so let us reach a truce, get this phase complete and be above board about things for the sake of sturdy barns and paid up draws. Sitting on my front porch, he begins explaining the sagas of his work and the reason behind the domino affect of losing crews, miscalculating jobs, etc. etc. all to justify why my job is now 6 weeks behind schedule and counting.  (Nothing worse than taking up yet MORE my time with your excuses in my book, but I allowed him the therapy of it all, for he seemed to need it, I really needed my job not to go sideways.) We're all of 5  minutes into this palaver when a worker on the rafters hollers out, "YO DUDE! YOU LEFT THE GATE OPEN!" and indeed it was true. My weeks-behind, over-extended, miscalculating contractor had walked right out of the work area, blithely leaving the pen open, meaning our next hour and a half was spent chasing 16 goats and 3 dogs over garden and neighborhood.
     The good news is, the garden's a goner anyway, and the goats are gaga over what's left of it. What's more, they are relatively easy to catch by shaking chow in a red solo cup. The bad news: dogs roam and not always where you want them to.
     It was a prime example of energies gone awry, and it has been my experience that once the avalanche begins, you can never get it back. At the end of the day, this is where tough decisions are made. I don't like making them, but when it comes to doing what's best for my critters, God sent me the perfect sign.
   

The Not So Fun Days

     Never underestimate the kindness of a Southern woman, for while we much prefer honey to vinegar, there are some days where honey just doesn't cut it. I have found this to be particularly true in construction when some more chauvinistic, excuse-laden types confuse kindness for stupidity. (I know this is not always the case; there are honorable types out there, I've met them and thought I had selected one.) But sadly, this is not the case.
     Not everyday is a holiday when it comes to construction; you know this going in. There will be stress. There will be conflict. There will be schedule changes. There's weather to factor and crews that don't show. But when these things are no longer the exception, but the rule, one has to step back and reassess.
     For the record (and let's pray I don't need this recorded, but in case I do), my sweet little barn was to have been completed by end of September. When the work started two weeks late, I was forgiving. My (so called) contractor had another project to complete. His crews were stretched thin. The weather was still cooperating and I was promised it could be completed in 30 days, so I rolled.
     They came; they broke ground, stuck a few poles in some holes. And then his crew quit. He says he fired them. They say they didn't get paid. (And you're telling me this, WHY?) I had a signed contract, a deposit down, and a wide open field with some poles to show for it.
     The next team (of one) was next on the scene and apparently good at his trade. I was fine with this choice. Just get this job going. But eventually even I knew it'd take more than one, after all rafters are a bit hefty to hoist. I was there for the raising. I was also there when my rafters blew to the ground and shattered into smithereens. (Thank God it happened with no goat babies inside!) In short, my faith is shot in a guy who boldly declares love of Christ and all things Christian every chance he gets.
     But now we're back up; slight progress made, though barn wood is lacking. (How this could be is impossible, since I, myself, found and negotiated 4 barns from which to pull our antique lumber, and even paid him and his sons separately before the building contract was signed.)
     Rich in excuses; bankrupt in results, meanwhile, I'm left holding the bag and reassessing my options all together.
     As of today, this "love those crews/ sweet tea providing boss" is no more. Not so fun Karlen has emerged, why? Because sadly, for some guys, this is the only language they hear. My kindness and cooperation was repaid by him taking a larger job that put mine on hold..Meaning days like today when the weather is beautiful, some richer "guy" client has my crews, and I am left to waiting it out (or so he thinks).
     The scripture says "Hell has no wrath like a woman scorned" but I contend "Hell has no wrath like a woman getting screwed over on a construction job."
     Stay tuned.
   
   
   
   

Complicators & Simplifiers

     I have heard it said there are two types of people in the world: those who divide the world into two categories, and those who don't. :)
     Count me with the former camp. Been my life experience people fall into one of two categories: The Complicators and The Simplifiers.
     You can identify either in a matter of seconds. Complicators live from the problem side of the equation. They love drama... revel in petty details, and they walk away disappointed or slightly annoyed when someone offers resolution, so familiar are they with their Complicator scripts.
    Simplifiers are the counter opposite. They long for solutions, often so as to not have to hear the Complicator's story repeated yet another time. They size things up quickly, study things deeply, and with great intention move away from repeats of the Complicator's love of over-dwelling on problems, much preferring to spend their resources of time, money and energy on solutions. (And when solutions don't come easy, these are the ones you'll find doing serious research as to what is needed to get there; then they get to work to recruit the necessary help to see it through.)
     In a nutshell: one loves problems; one loves answers. As a simple algebraic equation, you'd think this would balance out. Stick a problem lover with an answer maker and poof! Problem solved.  But sadly life doesn't work that way, for the reality is, we humans tend to hang with our own, which is to say, Complicators (i.e. the complainers in life) love other complainers. They are birds of a feather. Simplifiers, are likewise drawn to their own. These meet up with each other in self-help classes, group therapies, etc... They read biographies of leaders and spiritual books, for they are ever seeking answers that will better their lives and the lives of others (including Complicators who might like to change teams).
     While problematic on the individual level, it is catastrophic politically, which is precisely what is happening now; I can think of no clearer example than what went down with our elections today.
     I went to my polling precinct as I'm told did record numbers of others, each of us hoping to be heard; wanting to do our patriotic part. At the polls I found Simplifiers...kind and patient people, volunteering their time, (a 12-hour day, not counting the advance training) all to help us, the voting public, understand the process, the new machines, etc. But behind the voting curtain...arrrrrgh--The Complicators! As if the new machinery weren't complicated enough (all in the name of simplifying--you coulda fooled me) those Amendment votes were nothing BUT complicated. I swear, I have NEVER seen poorer, more convoluted wording, and on matters of such serious concern.
     Before heading to the polls, I did my homework. I researched, I googled...I tried to get to an authentic grasp of just what the jumbled wording meant, in hopes of saving myself and the people behind me, precious time. Sure, I'd seen the ads. But this is our constitution folks! I personally don't think anyone should vote based on 30-seconds of an ad on such serious issues. Still, I was befuddled. I'd think I had it figured out only to look up and realize the link I followed landed me on an agenda-ized website, with THEIR wording full of fear and warning, leaving me no clearer answers than when I'd tried to comprehend the original.
     So I reached out to political friends: lawyers, professors,  legal scholars...people I trust to explain fairly, without agenda. I was deeply troubled to find some of the brightest minds I know admitting the wording was unnecessarily complicated, (I assume "by design"). If difficult for a constitutional scholar, what hope does a lay person have to decipher the independent and dependent clauses, the coordination and subordination of the sentence structures? Add to that the precious few minutes we have behind that curtain...I mean, you beg us and guilt us to come out and vote and then you do THIS to us? Stick too many more of these mumbo-jumbo worded amendments and you're gonna lose your voters all together. After all, we have lives. We have jobs. We're paying the taxes that pay for your pensions and perfect healthcare plans. You might want to take a page out of the Simplifier's playbook before the next one, oh great leaders of ours.
     If what happens on the individual level to Complicators and Simplifiers plays out politically, (which is what is happening) Katie-bar-the-Door!  If personal experience is any indication, those who live to complicate, will soon find themselves surrounded by more Complicators...having rid themselves of any hope of bringing a Simplifier into their mix. And the Simplifiers will (if personal patterns are any indication) eventually figure out that Complicators in their heart of hearts, don't want things fixed, so much as they feed off creating problems to keep the Simplifiers busy.  But you see, here's the rub. Simplifiers, being serious lovers of peace and resolution, will eventually drop their end of this tug-o-war game.  At some point, an "Aha" occurs when Simplifiers (having studied the equation) discover that healing only comes when they quit giving their energy to Complicators, at which point Complicators have to start simplifying or die.

     And at this point, a major paradigm shift occurs.

     And THEN (and only then) can true healing begin.

   

 

Perspective

     The winter season has begun making this the 29th season for Room in the Inn, the homeless shelter program hosted by 180 plus area congregations.  The day leaves me exhausted and renewed all at the same time as I am invariably moved by the kind hearts and spirits that restore my faith in humanity.
     Today was a prime example of why I do it...(Here's a little hint: it's not for them). In a word: perspective. May sound selfish; probably is...but it's true. I do it for perspective.

     My own day was riddled with stress, conflict, challenges, project delays and disappointments of all shapes and sizes, but no matter how tempted I was to whine (ok. I whined a little) nothing snaps me out of it quicker than to hear words like "Thank you" or "Have a blessed night!" from someone just grateful for a meal. Gets me every time. These guys (and gals) are my heroes.
     Picking up like it was yesterday, I met up with my volunteer family and an even larger "extended family" of guests who tonight are being served, sheltered and well fed thanks to the kindness of strangers.  Here's praying for a peaceful season and a mild winter.
   

   

Brittany's First Day in Heaven

     Dear Brittany,

     We just got the news. The world's fixated, you know. We didn't know you personally, but that's never stopped us from weighing in. We like our opinions and seldom hesitate to share them, most today, having to do with your death and your choice to end things before things ended you. 

     But your death was yesterday...your decision made. This is today. Rather than belabor the death part, I want to know about Now...How is it where you are? What must you be thinking today? Is it disorienting? Is it wonderful? Do you have any regrets?

      So very fitting that you'd arrive on All Saint's Day. Did you plan it that way? And what do they do on All Saints Day where saints live anyway? Were any there to greet you or were they all off celebrating? (And what do saints do to celebrate? Is it stuffy and boring like church, or is St. Francis rolling around with our dogs? I pray it's the latter. How I pray it's the latter!)

      Or maybe the first time honors are set aside for family and friends we've been missing...People we'd more readily recognize? 

      Or are you still near? Can you see your family? Send them comfort? Are you looking over those you love? Will you attend your own memorial? Can you hear what people say? Precisely how does this work? 

      And that light? What about that light? Is that tunnel a wormhole? (I think it's a wormhole.) Is there a place in time/space where heaven is, or are we just missing that one all the way around? 

     Were your childhood pets so happy to see you? (I choose to believe they're the first ones we see. When mine cross that's the only thought pulling me through.) And can you see the pup you left behind? Do you miss him or are we too busy when we get there to experience that kind of sadness anymore?

     Are we anywhere close to getting what happens to us when we die, or are we all in for a big ol shock when it's our time? 

     What was the neatest part?

     Now that you're there...Can you see the future? Your family's? Your husband's? The planet's?

     Do they show you want could've been/would've been had you taken the traditional medical route with your body, or did you even care to know?  Do the mechanics of bodies fascinate us there as they do here or will we never have to think about bodies and aging and diseases again once we get there? (What a concept to behold.)  

     I pray your journey was peaceful. And I want to personally thank you for adding meaning to ours. Be it Facebook post or sorely needed conversation, your life and willingness to share such intimate, personal and painful decisions of your own, gave us more meaningful topics for a day. For each thought shared, each talk had, your life served a valuable purpose. You made death a little more real for us...Your bravery reminded us this not a subject to avoid, but one to accept, even embrace. Just because it's uncomfortable, doesn't make the topic go away.

     Based on what little I knew of your life...the weighty options, the soul-searching decisions...the deliberate intention you gave each remaining day...I can only imagine your life this new day. I pray that wherever this finds you, you know we are grateful. I pray God said, "Well done" for I feel you were a good and faithful servant. Your life mattered. It touched ours, briefly, though deeply, allowing us pause in the midst of mindless mediocracy to ponder something real for a change...Something of meaning. (Some days, many days, most days, we forget.)

     May your body rest in peace, but may your life continue to soar, shining ever bright.  I pray those Alaskan hikes and that Grand Canyon visit was but the beginning of the travel God has in store...

     For you...

     And for all of us.

     With heartfelt thanks,

     karlen