The Greatest Things


“Great Things are done by a series of small things being brought together”

-Vincent VanGogh

As we inch our way into 2018 we have found ourselves commiserating about all of the things that we did not accomplish in 2017.  The gardens weren’t well tended and yields were low, we didn’t have any goslings in the spring, the duck eggs we bought to hatch and raise were eaten by a raccoon, we haven’t completed the renovation project that we thought would be done at the end of October, we still don’t have a farm plan, we haven’t planted any fruit trees, we have not started our forest garden, there are many odd jobs that need to be done around the farm, and so on.  Really, the list could go on for days.  There is an infinite list of things that we can not accomplish.

The trouble is, this laundry listing of all that has not been done is not fruitful.  It doesn’t honour all that has been done, never mind the effort used to accomplish life, failure or not.  Looking at our shortfalls doesn’t help to energize us or empower us toward future goals.  It takes the wind out of our sails, leaving us feeling defeated, and so we will be.

This realization comes along with a deeper truth, that having a set of defined goals can be troublesome. In 2017 we grew more than we could have ever dreamed but in ways we could not have predicted that directed us away from our ‘goals.’  When you have a goal in mind and fail to meet it, it makes you feel like a failure.  This is outcomes based thinking, and our culture thrives on it!  We have decided to approach the coming year on the farm with a vision for how it could be rather than with a list of goals.  We are keeping an openness to the growth and learning that needs to take place and therefore remain open to what naturally presents itself.

It’s time for us to cultivate more of what we do want in our life.  As Bill Mollison says,  “You don’t have a snail problem, you have a duck deficiency!”    If we can allow our problems to define the pathway to creative solutions and growth then we will be on the right path.  Not to mention life seems to have a way of forcing us into small, slow solutions.

In the spirit of cultivating more of what we desire in our lives, we have started to dream about our coming year.  We asked ourselves and our children a few questions, like, “What would you like to do this year?  What would you like to learn this year?  What do you want to grow this year? ”  So far our list looks something like this:

Rob – plant an apple tree collection, transplant potted perennials into the earth, establish windbreaks, move the nut trees out of the garden plot, learn to draw comics

Julie – take forest school certification, make writing part of my weekly rhythm, grow an abundance of raspberries, gooseberries and french beans, appreciate my gifts, practice self-care regularly, raise turkeys

Oldest (7) – learn to write, buy a peahen and start a peacock business, plant lots of raspberries, buy all the Lego Star Wars sets, make a feature length film

Middle (5) – learn to play the ukulele, plant blueberries, learn to read and write, learn how to keep left and right straight in your mind, more playdates with friends, take a family vacation

Youngest (3) – learn to cook, learn my ABCs, grow corn and carrots, raise snorty pigs

Even if we complete one thing on the list, that is a success.  Dreaming it alone is a success because being together through the journey is the real definition of success for me.  Honouring the efforts of our loved ones and ourselves is reward enough. Some list of things checked off  becomes meaningless if we’ve taken the successes for granted.  The trouble is, when we forget to celebrate our successes, we’re left with a void.  Perhaps one that culture at large hopes to be filled with ‘things’ give our consumerist driven ideals.

As we have turned our negative outlook around, beginning to look at all we have accomplished this year instead, we have been astounded at the list.  This past year has brought major life shifts and yet we have accomplished a whole awful lot!  We have geese!  We now have a brood of Australorp hens and one beauty of a rooster named Grandfather Featherlegs!  We have a freezer full of ducks and chickens from our own land!  We doubled our garden space this year!  We are still eating fermented salsa verde from the fall!  We have a freezer stocked with tomatoes and tomatillos waiting to be processed!  We have bags of popcorn in the cupboard that we grew!  We have a stock pile of saurkraut!  We are getting close to finishing our renovation project and our friends will be moving in soon!  Rob no longer has a day job!  I have a full time job so we don’t need to worry about money!  And so on…really once I get on a roll, it’s hard to stop!  All the little moments, choices and efforts add up to a pretty meaningful year of accomplishments.  Bringing forth into the light the abundance that we experience, again and again, will help to retrain our brains.  We need to break free from the oppressive thoughts of scarcity.  It is the fear of not having enough that keeps us from recognizing all of the ways that we do.  If we keep honouring the many ways we have enough, and in fact live in abundance, then I’m hoping one day we will find we are free from self-sabotage.  Let us create a vision, but respond to change.

“Collect the moments one by one, I guess that’s how the future’s done.”

-Feist, Mushaboom

So let’s celebrate what we have done, and stop worrying about the relentless ‘to do’ list.  Because we have purpose.  Because we have drive.  Because we have vision.  We can trust that what actually needs to get accomplished will be done.  What drives our actions is the passion we have for our vision.  So vision with us…let’s make this world a better place!  What visions do you hold for 2018?


Forced Growth

A whole lot has happened in our lives over the past year, and in the last 6 months in particular.  It is impossible to imagine the day you get a phone call from your vacationing father telling you that your mother has been hit by a car while cycling.  Nothing can prepare you.  The journey has been long and difficult with relentless complexity.  Our lives have become exponentially more full…we now have more to do than we ever thought possible.  But our expansion has also filled us with a deep appreciation of every moment we have together.  My mother’s view of life from her electric wheelchair is certainly different than before her accident, but she continues to inspire us all with her determination and positive attitude.

To complicate our lives further, a couple of months ago I was offered an increase in my teaching contract to a full time position.  Out of necessity, I now teach other people’s children all day.  My husband left his job at the beginning of September, which was set in motion before my mother’s accident in May.  He is now the official homeschooler.  We are making it work, although I miss educating my own children.  In fact, I just plain miss time with them.  I feel amiss in prioritizing my commitment to our family.

Somehow when you need to, you expand.  Every time I have felt that growth was not possible, it became possible.  When I question my path, the reasons for me to ‘show up’ appear in abundance.  Sometimes we just don’t have a choice but to be present for what we’re being called to do.  Instead of being able to opt in or out, I get to choose how to navigate my circumstances.  How to be within the throws of a nightmare.

“Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation. You cannot control what happens to you in life, but you can always control what you will feel and do about what happens to you.”  
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
 I had a vision for how our life would be when we moved to the farm.  How we would grow in spaciousness and increase our resiliency.  What I didn’t want to believe was that my vision was fantasy.  This year has brought me the growth in resiliency I sought, but definitely not in the pleasant spacious way I had planned it in my visioning.  Growth has been a byproduct of difficulty and suffering.
When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
For all that has happened, I am now changed.  Goals for the farm remain nearly untouched.  My work and home life balance needs to be addressed.  Connection with my children is an ongoing challenge.  My health hasn’t been great as a result of lifelong autoimmune issues.  Supporting my parents through the development of a new way of life can’t always get first billing either, leaving guilt to fill the rest of that page.  There just doesn’t seem to be enough time.  So I have found myself calculating the costs and benefits of what takes up the hours of my day.  What can I let go of so that I have space to rekindle the parts of my life that I desire?  How to I carve out enough space to feel alive…to thrive.
During this past season of my life I have been forced through a very narrow passageway.  The reality is that many of the things that fill my life space are obligations – some of which I love, but obligatory none the less.  I have hope that soon I will emerge from the constriction of this birth canal, changed, new, and ready for a period of rapid growth.  I still hold my vision for a beautiful future, but I also hold the reality that the future is now.  Hoping that someday life will straighten out and become easier, more blissful, spacious and in line with my idealized visions is the fallacy.  Because my life can be that now.  I get to breathe ease, bliss and space into the tiniest cracks of my life.  I have the opportunity to make my idealized visions a reality in each moment.
There are no guarantees that I can ‘build’ anything for my future or that even if I did that it would match my plans.  But joy is not a destination.  It is built one moment at a time.  It is in the smallest spaces where glimmers of abundance can be found.  I feel like I’m finally getting the point of life…to define oneself within ever-changing sets of external circumstances.  The pieces of reality that create our lives cannot be changed and the future cannot be predicted.  What I can change is how to hold my present reality in balance with the past and the future.  Holding present, past and future simultaneously with detachment from specific outcomes is what allows me to grow and move forward.
 “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature-the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”

– Rachel Carson

So I welcome 2018.  I welcome this chance to remind myself of the turning of the wheel.  To release the burdens of 2017.  To reel in my line and cast it again.  To remember that life can once again be approached with resolve, hope and vision.  The past cannot be changed, but my future continues to be defined.  Moment by moment I have the opportunity to choose how to live within it.  Indeed it is this, the gritty hard work of living, that creates a life.  I get to decide how I will shape and define the raw materials life hands me into a work of art.  I am the sculptor.  And so I sculpt.


Feels like Home


There has been a long period since moving to the farm where I have missed the old house.  It is not so much a laundry listing of things I miss about it (although this has happened on numerous occasions), but it presented more as a guttural emotional response at the loss of my previous life.  There was something about that place that was so entwined with my identity.  And isn’t that just it, when we invest ourselves in place, it becomes much more difficult to uproot ourselves.

It was as if we were root bound, having grown tighter and tighter within our undersized container.  In order to free ourselves, we ripped ourselves from the pot, tearing apart our roots, separating them, damaging some of them in order to allow new growth.  I feel as though I left many roots behind.  Not the ones that breath life into me (my family, my creativity, nature), but gone are the tiny side shoots that were numerous but fragile.  They were not salvageable.  But these roots are slowly being replenished with new ones.

I looked at some photographs of the old house several weeks back without feeling the lurch in my stomach that I had grown accustomed to when reflecting on life before the farm.  As we approach spring, we can’t help but get excited!  Things have already started to accelerate around here.  Orders are coming in for the nursery’s spring pick up date, we have received a grant to plant a wind break of edible and useful trees, the tree cuttings are rooting in our basement along with many flats of annual seedlings, plans are being made for the sustainable cropping of the fields, the tarp is laid for the breaking of a new garden bed, and the research has been completed for the expansion of our barnyard – soon we’ll have lots of chicks and ducklings running about the place.  We are drowning in abundance!

In addition to all of the farm related tasks, which Rob has been amazing at taking the lead on (I prefer to take the role of ‘best supporting character’), we have been adjusting to a different sort of life.  I am now back at work part time, teaching Kindergarten gym for the most part.  I miss being home with my own children.  And they miss me.  I have become very busy, trying to juggle all of my different roles (mother, teacher, employee, farmer, wife, writer).

After a stint where I wasn’t sure my extreme efforts were making any sort of positive difference in this world, I have decided to pursue a project that has been on my heart for quite some time.  I am beginning to write a book about family life and parenting – Permaculture style!   The writing is in the early stages so it is all still really exciting and I can’t seem to work on it enough!   Because we’ve got so many things vying for our time, like always we’re jostling priorities so that I can carve out time to make it happen.  I have taken to a nightly routine of writing for an hour after the kids go to bed.  So far that seems to be satiating my writing appetite.  Perhaps more blog posts will roll out of me too now that I’ve remembered (yet again) just how important writing is to sustaining me.  I am home.

Thank you for reading this update…I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me!


Let’s Do This!


This is beyond us. This is more than personal. What we are being called to do is to live freedom. Be freedom. Don’t apologize for being radical. Be it. Live it. Push it…because it’s what is needed to survive.

Bring up the heaviness that has sunk to the bottom. Mix it in. Blend the hearty nourishment that has settled beneath the depths, largely forgotten. Bring it up. Make waves and turbulence when you do. Don’t be afraid to drown. Fearlessness will actually be what keeps you afloat. Fear is a cage we create for ourselves. An entrapment that will starve us in the end. We can choose to move beyond the bars of our confinement with our eyes, our minds or our full selves when we grow enough courage to make the flight through the open door.

The surface is oily – it slips and slides reflecting and refracting light. It is elusive and escapes our stirring. It is beautiful, but it is an illusion because it is disgusting at the same time. The surface is only a shape-shifting mirage. It is not real.  What we see is not representative of what’s buried in the depths. It is thin and vain. It can’t be mixed – only skimmed form the surface. So trust and reach deep for the good stuff. Don’t be disillusioned by the surface grime that will only serve to mat your feathers flightless.

Get real. Get honest. Get to the bottom of it.  Savour the fulfilling roots at sustain us all. Connect to earth. Connect to each other. Look past the illusions of freedom that have become delusions of hollow meaning. There is nothing real in what you cannot grab hold of.  Talk to people not screens. Hear heart songs not gossip. Be engaged. Be in real time. Be in control…of what you do with yourself. Of how you choose to meet the world. Be mindful of what pulls you from your roots. From each other. From what’s real and meaningful. Stop straining. Force should not be necessary for this is a natural process.

Don’t engage the dramatic escapades of the media. Or each other. Call it out! Don’t sit idly by watching it all fall apart. Name it as fear mongering. Keep a soft heart. Stay close to your attachments. Make them your focus. Attachment determines our existence –for it is more important to us than food or water. So cling to those you love and those who love. Build form there…together. Visioning , creating and actioning…together. Secure your community. Both the externally and the one within. Stop waiting at the wall. Step out onto the dance floor and give it all you’ve got. Break out your best moves without shame. Take love seriously. Bomb the world with it. Forget the war on terror…this is a war on fear. Let’s get our rage on!

Get Low


Fear has a way of shackling our souls – tying us down with invisible tethers.  Finding a way to rise up out of the darkness must happen in small increments.  There are ways to move into it – taking tiny steps toward the light.  Or just tiny steps, walking anyway – moving slowly and gingerly, stabbing at the air even when there is no light.

To be successful we must find a way to bring balance to ourselves, bringing our centre of gravity low against the earth.  Shifting our centre of gravity allows us to feel our way through on all fours.  We can be more centred and toppled less easily.  That way when we inevitably do make contact with the immovable, we may come up against it skillfully so as not to lose our stability to it.

So get low.  Go underground and root.  Find the ways through the darkness.  Through the mess…combat crawling on all fours.  Get low.  The way things are isn’t working.  The point has been made clearly.  Surrender to the chaos and find a way.  In the darkness we can make something. From the roots up we can build what we desire.  The tower is crashing down.  It is time to find shelter.  Get low.

Be one with the earth.  She knows no mess.  Her refuse becomes life – death reborn into fertility.  Send down your roots.  Create what you desire by choosing it.  Fumble in the darkness to feel the obstacles…not with your hands – but with your heart instead.  Echo locate.  Send out love and see what comes back.   If it is not returned, find new shelter.

There is no clarity.  There is no way to plan.  Only by clambering about in the darkness will we learn how to feel our way out.  Creativity cannot be underestimated.  Its full power is unleashed in extreme circumstances.  The way might not be easy, but it is there.  Brace yourself.  Get low.

Get smart and reconnect with your mammalian side.  We know how to do this.  The constructs of humankind have clouded the waters.  But we can remember.  We will remember.  We are being pushed with increasing force toward change.  Toward a destiny we’ll never be ready for.  But we are more prepared that we give ourselves credit for.  Get low.  Touch the earth.  We are earth.  Remember.

Keep moving through the darkness.  Keep looking for the light.  The stillness of paralyzing fear mark you for prey.  Camouflage.  Stagnation also breeds decay.  Find small ways to keep sanity.  Keep moving.  Stay sheltered.  Look for beauty amidst the darkness.  Find the beauty.  Be the beauty…recognizing you already are.

The marks we are making are lasting.  But we get to choose whether they’re marks of destruction or creation.  Both are necessary for change.  Both are needed to move forward.  Find ways to move through the mess.  Get low.  Establish roots.  Connect.  Know when to strike.  Remember.


Be Brave


There are days where it feels like I’m not getting things right.  Days when I wonder what it is exactly that I’m offering this world.  There have been a lot of these since we moved.  I wonder how to share my gifts as I’m trapped under a mountain of work.  I think about how I can help myself to be present to the things that are happening around me.  The pace feels too fast for me to hold on to.  I have twinges of regret and a desire to be perfect worrying that I’m letting people down.

I am working hard to be true to myself.  I am trying so hard just to be me.

I want to be strong enough to weather these days.   And I am.  And I do.  But the pain of feeling my way through this cycle again and again feels so very hard.  I am working hard to be true to myself.  I am trying so hard just to be me.  Sitting in the journey.

I have such a deep desire for things to be different.  I crave community, meaningful relationships and work.  Some days I don’t feel like its possible and I want to run and hide, doing as little as possible to engage with the outside world as I can.  I don’t understand how our culture can be so dysfunctional and yet function.  And I don’t really know how to be within it’s dysfunction.  I want to find the right people.  I want to make room for myself to be.  I want to be strong.  I want to be self-assured.  I want to choose joy.  I want to live my truth.  I want to be someone who makes a difference.

Ironically it is my feelings of unworthiness that indeed make me so.  If I can be strong within myself and steadfast in my convictions;  to respect others, to respect nature, to be true to my ethics, to be honourable,  to be honest, to love, to choose joy, to be the best I can be, to be kind to others and myself, to be courageous enough to stand up for what I believe in, to uphold integrity, to show that I am capable, even when I make mistakes, to accept mistakes as learning, to let go of what other people think of me, to be patient, to show gratitude, to connect, to be me…then I will be living the life I’ve always wanted!

Don’t be perfect.  Be brave.

Change Contortions


“To put it concisely, we suffer when we resist the noble and irrefutable truth of impermanence and death.  First, we expect that what is always changing should be graspable and predictableSecond, we proceed as if we were separate from everything else, as if we were a fixed identity, when our true situation is egoless.  Third, we look for happiness in all the wrong places. The Buddha called this habit ‘mistaking suffering for happiness,’ like a moth flying into a flame.”

~ Pema Chödrön

A lot has happened in our lives over the past months.  As of the last time I posted, we had an offer in on the farm of our dreams and were waiting to sell our house.  About a month ago, the owners of the farm took another offer, meaning we had 48 hours to turn our conditional offer into a firm offer to buy the farm or let it go.  This set about a huge change for us.  I was hoping that we would sell our place at a good price with the perfect closing date and no restrictions on the offer.  That way we would be able to firm up our offer on the farm and move when we were ready…just like I had pictured it in my head!  Unfortunately life doesn’t work that way.

It seems that it is the darkest hours that bend us into our new shape, forcing us to face our ego and the unrealistic expectations that can come along with it.  We found out about our 48 hour time limit at 9pm on a Tuesday night.  The following two days remain in my memory as a blur of crying, anxiety, fear, anger and shame.  We wanted that farm so badly!  We had been visioning our lives there and considered it to be an upgrade from our current life on all fronts.  With every other property we had looked at, there would always be at least one thing that was a ‘downgrade’…but not this place!  This was the one.  I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t coming together easily.  I have always put faith in the idea that if something is meant to be, that it will happen.   During those 48 hours as I stressed and paced, Rob was working tirelessly to figure out a way to manage financing the purchase of the farm without first selling our house.  We were scrambling.  Our agent called all the people who had recently  viewed our home and also those who were about to view it.  The number of showings went up and  I was out of the house with the children for over 12 hours, adding to the already long list list of days the children got to bed too late.  We were all feeling it.  After our hustle to sell the house in a hurry, all of the potential buyers fell away, and we were left with a tough decision to make.

In Canada, if you purchase a house and cannot secure financing as of the closing date, you are taken to litigation.  You are responsible for all incurred financial damage to the sellers of the property, and subsequent roll out of financial damages to any properties they are unable to close on due to not having the capital from their property.  This risk was unbearable to me.  For the first time in my life I was awake all night long.  I couldn’t get off the toilet, was having anxiety attacks, couldn’t stop shaking, and would burst into uncontrollable fits of sobbing every so often.  The scene was not pretty.  It reminded me of labor.  And a labor it was.

The following day, Rob found a farm lender who provides bridge financing for new farm purchases.  This meant that it would be alright, although costly, for us to own both properties at once for up to a year.  We had to jump through several hoops in order to secure financing with them, including contacting Rob’s parents who were leading a nature tour in Yukon and Alaska.

Everything about that 48 hours felt like a fight.  We were fighting so hard to get the farm.  We were fighting so hard to get the financing in order.  We were fighting so hard to make it work.  Every time we thought we had made progress, we found another hoop we had to jump through.  But we didn’t give up.  I stayed with my horribly uncomfortable emotions.  I took time to talk to my spiritual teacher, seeking guidance for what to do with ‘all of it‘ because my emotional rawness was overwhelming.  I took time to get myself grounded.  I took time to go for a walk in nature.  It was a wild ride, and one I hope to never take again!

When I talked to my in-laws on the phone from the Yukon, they offered 110% support.  They wanted us to get the farm as badly as we did!  The day we needed their help to gather information happened to be the only day they could have provided it .  They spent that day of their working vacation running around to find internet, talking to their financial planner, getting the hotel to print forms for them to fill out to send back to the lender.  They worked so hard for us.  But all I could see were the road blocks.  All I could see were the ways in which things weren’t going to work out.  I couldn’t see past my fear.

15 minutes before our time deadline, we heard back from the lender that with Rob’s parents as co-signers, we had been approved for the loan!   We bought the farm.  The same day, we significantly dropped the price of our house to try and sell it to avoid the costly endeavour of owning two homes at once.  Then…we got excited!  I celebrated for about a day…imagining all that moving to the farm would mean for our lives.  I felt genuine excitement for the experience of packing and moving.  I was dreaming about all the things we were going to do and accomplish in our ‘new life.’

The day after, we got an offer on our house.  A very low offer.  An offer that was less than we had paid for our place when we bought it 8 years ago.  All of the ways we had spent money to improve our house came rolling through my consciousness…Don’t they know we put on the most expensive and best warranted steel roof?  Can’t they see that we did so much to improve the insulation in this place?  Don’t they love the granite counter top I won in an radio contest?  Do they not put any value to the water distiller we installed after we inherited it from my grandparents?  Don’t they like the new pine floors we put in upstairs?  The offer felt insulting.  We said no.

Two days later the same offer came in again, slightly higher, but still lower than what we paid for the place.  They were going to give us our closing date and the offer was firm.  Knowing the showings would be over and having certainty about the deal closing in time made the offer very tempting.  The only outstanding question for us was whether or not our initial lender would still finance us with less capital.  There was also an outstanding appraisal of the farmhouse and 20 acres that needed to be completed to be sure they could finance our deal.  We were going to accept the offer, we just needed some time to make sure things would work out on our end.  We asked for a few days to consider it.  They withdrew the offer.  I felt like my heart was being put through a cider press.  “This should be easy,” I said to myself on repeat, “Why isn’t this easy?”

The following weekend we had committed to working on a natural building project that we helping to orchestrate, well actually we’re teaching a course on it in a couple of weeks (which is another post all together).  We were going to help out at a ‘work party’ on the Sunday in order to get the foundation underway for the project.  After the events of the week, and because I just plain felt exhausted, I decided I wasn’t going to worry about the state of the house when we left for the day, despite the quantity of dirty dishes and laundry that had been flung about the place.  It was nice to just be able to walk out of the house without worrying about what it looked like for the first time in weeks!

At the work party, I got a text from our realtor (I’d like to write another post about my personal experience of the impact of having a cell phone on me at all times…).  The text came in late morning to request a showing that afternoon.   Rob and I were supposed to be guiding the work that day at the building site.  My children were all there as well as my in-laws who had since returned from their trip and were now helping with childcare and the building project (they are amazing people!)  We decided that any opportunity to sell the house was worth a shot, so I left the work party and shoveling rubble into a trench to rush home to clean the house.  I worked harder in that hour and a half than I had at the building site…to the point where I was relieved to return to the rubble trench in the afternoon!

The following day, we had a flurry of showings, 4 or 5 I think.  In the meantime, we asked our lender to do an appraisal on the farm, just in case we sold the house before closing.  The day after, another Tuesday, the low offer returned for a third time.  This time, they returned with the same offer except the closing date was a week later…but still no concession for us to secure our financing.  Then the offers started to come.  We got a total of 4 offers that day and all of them left that first offer in the dust.  We accepted a firm offer with our farm closing date.  The heart wrenching had finally come to an end…or so I thought.

Part of the process of ensuring we got financing was to prove we had enough income to pay the related bills.  I have been on a leave of absence for over 2 years.  Lenders usually consider your previous few years of employment as proof of what is to come.  In order for us to proceed, I would need to be bringing in some income.  I had applied and been approved for a leave of absence for the coming year as well, hoping to maximize my time with my young children.  A call to my union confirmed that I am able to return from an approved leave, even though they have already done staffing for next year.  The postings for the year had already gone to external hire, meaning that they were interviewing people not already part of the school board to fill the spots.  As a result of putting in my request, I had to go through the interview process with the external applicants!  Luckily, after learning I would need to participate in an interview process I was working on updating my resume during the children’s rest time because a few hours later I was siting in front of a principal and vice principal interviewing for a primary/junior arts and kindergarten gym position.  The following morning I interviewed again for a junior/intermediate science and social studies job.  I got news the following day that I had gotten the arts position!

It has been a whirlwind.  I am left feeling a bit up-swept in the whole mess, and like I am still processing all that has happened in the past month.  There is a lot of processing that still needs to happen, including some reconciliation with the idea of returning to a teaching position.  I am very grateful to have a spot in kindergarten gym and the arts, and hope to be able to bring some of what I’m working on to that venue.

Perhaps this goes without saying, but I feel it needs to be acknowledged that as a homeschooling family, our children were with us through it all.  They saw the ups, downs and in-betweens.  I’m sure they learned a lot about emotional processing.  They were amazing through each and every showing.  My sons worked hard to keep their toys tidy, picking up every piece of Lego and sitting quietly on the sofa reading books on the sofa until we were ready to leave the house.  There were a couple of occasions where they watched an excessive amount of a DVD while I cleaned the house, or fielded an important financial phone call.  What I can say for sure is that my children are resilient.  What a blessing amidst the storms we’ve weathered in these past weeks.

I wanted to share the journey with you.  Because it was hard.  Because we made it through.  And most importantly because it matters a lot to where we are going.  As we move through the actions of relocating, juggling homeschooling, returning to the classroom, and becoming farmers, I will have lots to share.  I love writing and have not had space to do it.  This post took precious time out of my day that could have been used to pack more boxes…but I needed to write it out.  I needed to share it.  I wanted my readers to know I haven’t forgotten…about you or how important this work is to me.  I will return.  After the dust settles and we find our new rhythm.  I am bursting with ideas, excitement, ponderings and the like.  I want to write.  And I will when I can.  Thanks for riding alongside me…