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lawsoffateherbal: The Complete List of Herbal Blogs A pretty...

Sat, 01 Dec 2012 07:49:27 -0500

The Complete List of Herbal Blogs

A pretty good list :)

Stepping into life together

Wed, 03 Oct 2012 16:50:48 -0400

Four days from right now, I’ll be married. Four days from this moment, we will have said goodbye to the last of guests and cleaned up from the extravaganza (I hope). We will be relishing life free of planning, free of guest lists, free of food lists and shopping lists and “don’t forget to” lists. And we will breathe a sigh of relief and take a nice walk in the Appalachian foliage and remember why we did this in the first place (I hope).

And then we’ll go back to our home in our mountain town and continue with the life we have been living together for the past (almost) 4 years. Will it be different? Probably not. But I’m learning to appreciate what this kind of process can be for me and for us.

See, I never thought I would “get married”. Weddings? Who needs ‘em? I’m not into ceremonies and I really hate being the center of attention and I get nervous in big crowds of people and planning events is very stressful for me. I’m pretty sure a wedding is that exact combination of things. Except, it’s more than that.

So, “yes”, I said almost two and a half years ago, when Hillary surprised me with the perfect engagement ring that I never knew I wanted. Yes, because, of course I love you and of course you’re my family and I want to have children with you and all of that. And so the wedding planning began in this kind of far off distant way where nothing was really such a big deal because we could always do it “next weekend” and it’s so far off that we’ll just figure it out when it gets closer.

Like, now. Because the event is 6 days away.

So now I am multiplying cake recipes and trying to estimate just how many ounces of black beans each person might consume and hoping that everyone who RSVPed is actually coming and… OH GOD WHAT IF THERE ARE PEOPLE COMING WHO HAVEN’T RSVPed????

All this to say that, sometimes, it’s hard to keep focus on what we are doing here. That we are coming together before God and before our community and we’re asking for our community to hold us accountable to each other. We are asking them to celebrate our creation of family together. That’s kind of amazing, really, and all of this logistical mess just seems to get in the way.

It is a terribly vulnerable space from which we ask our community to come and celebrate with us, agree to support us in our commitment to each other, and hold us accountable in our vows. I think this is especially true for us as queer women. Our relationships are just not taken as seriously. period. And this isn’t about marriage rights or any HRC campaigns. As Christians, the legal part just isn’t important to us. I don’t think that, had we the option of getting legally married, we would take that road. We cannot worship two masters, so we would have to decide who was marrying us: God or the State? I actually feel blessed that we don’t have to make that decision. Every step of this commitment has been intentional for us, with nothing taken for granted.

But, it also means that we have had to defend ourselves at almost every point, it seems. I sometimes find myself having to sell people on the idea of our marriage. No one means to, I’m sure, but we’ve heard some pretty hurtful things spring forth from the mouths of some really wonderful people (they must slip out right before that foot lands in there….). The most common by far is some variation of “Well, you’re not really getting married… it’s just like, a symbolic ceremony” (Uh…. aren’t all ceremonies symbolic of something? Isn’t that the point?). And when it isn’t said outright, the same sentiment is often implied. Again, it is so rarely malicious (and when it is, no one seems to put much effort into hiding it!). It’s our culture- it’s how we were raised.

I was raised in a very progressive community where “homophobia” (gosh, I hate that word) was openly frowned upon. I remember it being made VERY clear in my home that “gay” was not to be used as a slur and that someone’s sexuality did not define them as a person and was not something to judge. At the same time, it was made very clear that queer relationships were not something to be taken seriously either. I was about 12 years old when my youngest aunt met her partner and while the surface conversations around their life was positive and welcoming, I remember well how the tone changed behind closed doors. When my aunts welcomed their daughter into the world, it was clear that one was the “real” mother.

Thought I didn’t realize it at the time, it was very confusing to me as a young queer person. I identified as a lesbian and my parents never batted an eye, but I remember the lengths at which my mother would degrade “bi-sexuals” as promiscuous women with a lack of identity and an inability to commit to a real relationship. I remember being told that sex (as defined by penis-vagina intercourse) changed individuals in a way that nothing else could. There was no alternative passageway into full sexual adulthood. The sex I was having “wasn’t real sex”, which worked out great for me as a hormonally charged teenager who could have sleepovers whenever I wanted. Not being fully respected, it turns out, has its perks.

But what does it do to us as adults? I don’t want to make any broad Frued-esque accusations here. My family is certainly not the only culprit- they are simply a reflection of our greater world. But what does that do to us as people, as we grow up, engage sexually with others, enter into relationships with partners, depend on each other? I’ve been facing that a lot the past few months, because, guess what? That whole “hey, you wanna get married?” thing brings a whole lot of that hurt to the surface real fast- even that “oh, i got over that years ago” stuff. Yep.

So, inviting 50 friends and family to witness a public statement of love and commitment? That feels a little bit like inviting an entire high school to the auditorium so that I can stand naked on the stage and sing the Star Spangled Banner a capella. Vulnerability does not begin to cover it. As the invitations went out, I suddenly found myself imagining the sniggering, the scoffing that was surely happening at lunch tables and coffee meetings. I pictured my friends kindly humoring me and Hillary as they settled into their seats for our ceremony, making grocery lists in their heads and wondering how early they could slip out of the reception to get on with their real lives.

The reality, of course, is nothing close to this. Our friends are, possibly, more excited than we are for the big event. We have been amazingly supported by these wonderful friends, some of whom, we have only known for a matter of months. Admittedly, it often hard to remember that when our blood is not there for us in the way our inner children always hoped they might be. As much as I wanted to deny it, I always assumed that I would look up during my wedding and see the smiling faces of my parents and my in-laws. That just isn’t my reality and, really, we are truly blessed by a large and far-spread family that is not contingent on blood. My job now, in these final days before we exchange our vows, is to remember that.

4 days to go and I am finally able to remember why we are doing this. I am stepping into life with a new family, I am asking God to be present in our hearts when we are present with each other, we are asking our community to step forward and embrace us as family. We are also accepting each others families into ours, whether or not they (or the State) recognize it. We are strengthening the reigns of familial obligation, which can drive us up the wall, but also keeps us grounded to our past and future.

Thanks be to God.

outlaw midwives: apihtawikosisan: Each time my mother had a child, all of us by...

Sun, 01 Jul 2012 01:50:25 -0400

outlaw midwives: apihtawikosisan: Each time my mother had a child, all of us by...:

apihtawikosisan:

Each time my mother had a child, all of us by C-section (which at one point was pretty much the most common way to give birth), the doctor offered to give her a hysterectomy. The doctor made this offer while her children was being born, when she was under the influence of…

"I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was..."

Tue, 19 Jun 2012 20:22:00 -0400

“

I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was on the pill until he found them in my purse.

I went to the Student Health Center—they were completely unhelpful, choosing to lecture me about the importance of safe sex (recommending condoms) instead of actually listening to my problem.

Then I went to Planned Parenthood. The Nurse Practitioner took one look at my fading bruises and stopped the exam. She called in the doctor. The doctor came in and simply asked me: ‘Are you ready to leave him?’ When I denied that I was being abused, she didn’t argue with me. She just asked me what I needed. I said I need a birth control method that my boyfriend couldn’t detect. She recommended a few options and we decided on Depo.

When I told her that my boyfriend read my emails and listened to my phone messages and was known to follow me, she suggested to do the Depo injections at off hours when the clinic was normally closed. She made a note in my chart and instructed the front desk never to leave messages for me—instead, she programmed her personal cell phone number into my phone under the name ‘Nora’. She told me she would call me to schedule my appointments; she wouldn’t leave a message, but I should call her back when I was able to.

And that was it. No judgment. No lecture. She walked me to the door and told me to call her day or night if I needed anything. That she lived 5 blocks from campus and would come get me. That I wasn’t alone. That she just wanted me to be safe.

I never called her to come to my rescue. But I have no doubt that she would have come if I had called. She kept me on Depo for a year, giving me those monthly injections in secret, helping me prevent a desperately unwanted pregnancy.

I cannot thank Planned Parenthood enough for the work they do.

”

- Wow. Wow. Wow. If only all practitioners could act out of need rather than out of judgement.

Curious Georgiana (via grrrlstudies)

I know I’ve reblogged this before, but it bears re-reblogging (?). This is how you respond to abuse, this is how you give people control over their bodies/uteruses, this is how you act as a generally non-judgmental and compassionate person. I love this story so fucking much.

(via coffeewithants)

Sorry I haven't updated, Mom

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 13:10:18 -0400

Fastforward to Easter! Sorry I left you hanging at Christmas… Life has been surprisingly busy for someone without a job (thanks, Asheville economy…).

My life has exploded with Mamas to hang out with, babies to hold, placentas to encapsulate and so much more.

~23weeks

30-something weeks with twins! (she is not actually in pain, she is just in the middle of telling me about her bebes!)

Placenta science!

fetal heart tones! for two babies!

Small talk at the Asheville Holistic Birth Collective

I’m looking forward to saving up for a blood pressure cuff, a stethoscope and a fetoscope! I’m creating a “to-one-day-own” book list that is only getting longer and longer… and I am in absolute awe that I am already about halfway through with my midwifery program. I wonder often about what this summer and fall will bring… Hillary and I have been talking about taking a break from communal living for a while (and for the first time ever as a couple…) so 2013 might bring a new living space for us here in Asheville. And in order for that to happen, I would need a job… and by job I mean a paying apprenticeship/assistantship. Hear that God Almighty/Universe? I’m ready. Bring it on.

Enough said. Thanks, yumadwhiteboy and pippirocket.

Sat, 07 Jan 2012 14:19:02 -0500

Enough said. Thanks, yumadwhiteboy and pippirocket.

Christmas

Tue, 27 Dec 2011 12:31:00 -0500

Okay, so here’s the thing. I hate Christmas. I KNOW! I KNOW! What Christian can hate Christmas? I mean, if we can get all jazzed up for the day Jesus died, you’d think the unassisted birth of this awesome radical could get me, the future midwife, excited. Every year, I REALLY try to get excited about the holidays. It’s not fun being Scrooge! This year I even went out and picked some evergreen and holly branches and hung them in bunches around the house. I strung lights on our staircase and and planned holiday meals for weeks. I witnessed every advent candle being lit and forced myself to smile rather than roll my eyes when I listened to adults tell the children in our church that the cookies they made those prisoners brought them peace and hope and delight (know what would be a better Christmas present? LIBERATION!). I tried to center myself and prepare my heart and all that stuff you’re supposed to do during advent. Still, there’s nothing like a tacky jazzed-up rendition of commercialized Christmas carols to get my blood boiling.

Here’s the other thing, my family was never HUGE on Christmas. There was no feast, no giant family get-togethers. No drunken uncles or in law debates. No football wars or any of that stuff. I actually really liked my family’s Christmas traditions growing up. When we put of the tree, we drank white russians. Christmas Eve was Chinese food and A Christmas Story taped from TBS with old clips of M&M and 7-up commercials (bottle caps with sunglasses and santa caps anyone?). Christmas day we opened presents and ate Pilsbury biscuits. The last Christmas I spent at home was in 2006. Here is what that looked like:

Dad getting goofy with the tree

Spontaneous father-daughter(s) dance parties

(note white russian in that pint glass)

I moved to Atlanta when I was 19 years old and found myself 1086 miles away from my immediate family for every holiday, which never seemed like that big of a deal… until Christmas day would come around and every one I knew had somewhere to be… and I didn’t. Last year was the first year since 2006 that I spent Christmas with other people. Hillary and I spent Christmas with her father and his wife in Alabama (a big deal for other reasons). But this year is the first year I’ve spent Christmas in my home with my partner. This is the first year that we had the opportunity to create traditions for OUR family (of two) and I realized that that is actually a lot of pressure. Christmas time dredges up a lot of feelings about childhood, family dynamics and traditions. We yearn for the joy and and anticipation that laced the Christmas season when we were little, before we were old enough to have serious family conflicts. We want to be nostalgic, but that nostalgia is so often wrapped up in emotional trauma that is impossible to pick apart.

So, after the initial excitement of realizing that Hillary and I would get Christmas to ourselves this year, there was a little nagging anxiety. I think we pulled it off nicely, though. It was quiet, which was good. It was sweet and lazy and mostly focused on food. Food is hard for the two of us when it comes to the holidays. Hillary was raised in Alabama where vegetables necessarily mean “covered with cheese and cream-of-something soup”. I hate most cheese… and cream-of-anything soup and even though Hillary and I both reject the processed, unhealthy food culture in which our generation was generally raised, the holidays come around and she’s craving green bean casserole (Campbell’s style). There is no good Chinese food to speak of in the south (many people from the south will disagree with me, but it’s only because they have never been to New York or Boston), so my family’s tradition has to be abandoned. I still love white russians, but my digestive tract is no longer a fan of pasteurized, homogenized milk. Biscuits in a can might still stroke that guilty pleasure in us both, but we both prefer homemade baked goods to the scary scary preservatives that keep that store-bought dough fresh.

So here is what we did for Christmas Eve:

Garlic Chicken Stew with Rosemary Dumplings that I had prepared late that afternoon. The recipe calls for breasts, but we used thighs (cheaper!) and we traded peas for carrots and turnips.

and we made a version of wassail in lieu of the traditional white russians. There are about as many recipes for wassail as there are people who drink it and their bases range from beer to wine to champagne all the way to fruit juice. I like beer over fruity drinks any day, so we read several recipes and this is what we came up with:

Beer (brown, porter… something smooth and sweet. definitely not an IPA or pale ale. Hops are bitter and more bitter with cooking), cinnamon, ginger, apple and maple syrup (not pictured).

Slice half the apple, coarsely chop up about a tablespoon of ginger and select two handsome looking cinnamon sticks.

throw it all in a crock pot, pour one (only one!) of those big bottles of beer over it, pour in what looks like a reasonable amount of maple syrup to you and turn it on low. Then turn it on high because you’re getting impatient. Then turn it back to low because you realize that heating it too fast means less apple flavor. Then turn it back to high because you think maybe more heat will break down the apple better. Then turn it back to low because you think it’s getting too hot. Continue this back and forth until you decide to taste it… and realize that it tastes HORRIBLE. Like something you might find at the general store back in the 1800s (a tonic to restore VITALITY! Also, cures 27 common ailments!).

Slice up the other half of that apple and an orange. Add some more maple syrup. Turn it back to low and leave the room. Some residual anxiety is normal.

Eat your chicken stew and drink the beer that you didn’t ~~waste~~ turn into wassail.

Next time: (Christmas morning! Plus: what happened to that wassail?)

New home part II

Thu, 01 Dec 2011 09:52:31 -0500

I think Gulliver likes it here

Now, meet our new backyard

(those ducks tell us what’s up)

(that is the view from the back porch and also our bathroom window! Do you SEE those mountains?!)

This morning was covered in thick frost, so I went out to take pictures while my sweet southerner boiled water to unfreeze the car door lock (DO NOT POUR IT ON THE FROZEN WINDSHIELD!!!). Atlanta’s 3-inch-blizzard taught her well last year, so maybe she will be prepared for winter in the mountains. We hope! Because my northern blood has definitely been diluted with sweet tea.

Also, Anne Frye has come!

along with some hand-picked-and-delivered grapefruit from Florida. I never ever want to stop looking at these books. Hillary says the purple one (Holistic Midwifery volume II) looks like a Hogwart’s spell book and has taken to calling out Rowling’s spells every time she passes it by. I mean, women are pretty much like magic, so I think it’s applicable.

First Days

Tue, 29 Nov 2011 13:59:00 -0500

We arrived in Asheville on Saturday afternoon to sun and a local beer from our new roommate. Gulliver explored the grounds and lusted after the ducks in the yard before discovering the giant, low, bay window that he can stare out for hours at a time.

We’ve been reveling in the joy of living in this city that we’ve visited so many times. We’ve been spending every available minute with our friend because we can’t quite seem to realize that we LIVE here now and that this is not just a weekend visit.

Gulliver has enjoyed many walks as we explore our new neighborhood and get our bones used to this weather.

Making house has been easier than anticipated, since we actually have very little and so much of the house is already furnished. Our bedroom already feels homey and I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of our kitchen stuffs when Hillary goes through Atlanta again in a few weeks.

So, without further ado: OUR NEW HOME! More photos to come…

We went to church on Sunday! We had heard of Circle of Mercy from several people and met some of their congregation at the SOA this year. Turns our, they congregate just half a mile from our new house! So, we got to walk to church on Sunday evening. I had completely forgotten that Sunday was the first Sunday of advent! So, we got to watch small people light the first candle and listen to them clumsily inform us as to the meaning of advent (duh… Christmas is 28 days away!).

I’m thinking a lot about what it means to arrive in a new place just in time for the start of advent. A time devoted to waiting, praying for patience and glorious expectation. This is such a rich, pregnant time of the year and Hillary and I, too, are in this period of rich anticipation. It has to mean something-right?

I’m thinking of this especially as Hillary and I are on the receiving end of so much pressure from family and friends to know EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE DOING AND EXACTLY WHERE IT IS GOING TO TAKE US AND EXACTLY WHEN THAT WILL HAPPEN. Whew! I think it is especially hard on my sweetheart, who often often leaves said individuals with the idea that she is following me blindly and without personal fulfillment while I doddle off and try to seduce women out of birthing in perfectly-safe-hospitals. (I wonder at what point family stops analyzing every step one takes in life and actually trusts that perhaps we’ve actually put a good deal of thought and consideration into our decisions. 50? 100? Do I have to wait until I no longer have any elder relatives? When my Dad took his current job over 20 years ago, did all of his relatives call him with serious but-where-will-this-really-take-you? doubts? I have a sneaking suspicion that I could become the president of the universe and I would still get wind of secret whispers questioning my drive and ability).

In all seriousness, it is difficult to explain life-decisions that are most definitely off-the-beaten-path, especially those that are specifically, consciously and precisely contrary to the beaten path! I think I have a slightly easier time than Hillary does because homebirth midwifery has a growing place in popular culture (thanks, Ricki Lake), but my choices and path are difficult to explain because they do not include words like: masters, nursing, residency, degree etc.

(reel it on in, Kirsten. land the plane…)

How does this connect to advent? Well, patience. Hillary and I are in very different places in our life and our education/”careers”/callings, but neither of us can possibly know where we are going to end up or how we are going to get there. Isn’t that the beauty of it? My sister reminded me that SHE has no idea where she will end up when she finishes college, and how many of my friends with expensive four year degrees are still steaming latte milk? How many other people do I know doing something completely rad that they did not go to school for (if they went to school at all)? So many people go through mid-life career changes, life changes, status changes. Countless people have lost jobs, lost homes and lost lives. Others have found joyful lives in unexpected places. How can I possibly be expected to know exactly where my life will take me?

It’s hard to remember that when I’m being asked to justify and defend my life choices to skeptics, but my duty is not to impress them. My duty is to pray for patience and clarity and follow the path set before me. I can wait expectantly and make the best choices I am able, but there is some sort of freedom (when I’m not utterly terrified) in knowing that I am not in control.

Advent is about awaiting the coming of Christ, the coming of our savior, our messiah. For the Jews, this meant heavy expectation of long-awaited liberation from oppression (well, it turns out that that Rome didn’t fall at the hand of a warrior and Christ wasn’t the messiah for the Jewish people, but that’s beside the point right now). Advent is the practice of patiently expecting liberation from Empire.

I hope advent will be a good time to let that knowledge sink into my bones, so that I can begin to rid myself of the desire for validation from Empire.

So close...

Thu, 24 Nov 2011 22:25:43 -0500

Whew! Whatta whirlwind. Albuquerque-Atlanta-Columbus-Dothan! Tonight is our last night in Dothan before heading back north. Just one overnight in Atlanta (to gather stuff and break up the ride) and then we will be IN ASHEVILLE (can we hear some triumphant music)? I would really prefer to be journey-oriented rather than goal-oriented in my life, but I can’t help but feel enormous relief about reaching Asheville! Sure, a lot of it is that I’m sick sick sick of traveling. I am absolutely a homebody and would almost always rather be home than out and about. I love visiting friends, but only as long as I have a place to come home to. Honestly, almost every time I set out on a trip (even the ones I am SUPER excited about and have TONS of fun on), I find myself counting down the hours until I’m home again. Okay, okay, you get the point: I miss having a home. SO I’m excited to have a real home again, a place to settle into, but I’m also excited about what Asheville means. Hillary and I have always wanted to live there, our friends are there, we’re back EAST… oh, and being for-real about becoming a midwife. Yeah, that.

Highlights from further adventures in the SE:

Birthday presents! Hillary got me two books about identifying wildflowers/edible plants in the SE. One of them has great pictures (future tattoos?). The necklace has a pendant of Saint Brigid who is a patron saint for midwives. AND she made me a lino-cut print of shepherds purse. She’s great.

SOA is as always (but smaller)

Got to see this awesome lady

Yeah, my grandma has purple hair. Pokeberry!

I can’t say enough just how grateful I am to have her as a real friend in my life. We definitely do not have a traditional relationship and I am so so glad. She is making it possible for me to participate in The Matrona program next year and I am so honored to get to involve her in my life like this.

Onto Dothan:

Reunited and it feels so good.

Yesterday, we held BABIES! Hillary’s mama’s friend had twins six weeks ago and that single mama needed a nap! So we selflessly gave up our day to hold these little friends… completely without personal gain… in no way enjoyable, of course… this is just pure, good, kind sacrifice. Right there.

And there.

Then we made a million of those. That was for-real selfless. We had to put them in the oven to hide them from hungry mouths (AKA Gulliver) and then I accidentally baked them when I pre-heated the oven for the bread to bake. Whoops…

Happy Thanksgiving.

ATLANTA!

Thu, 17 Nov 2011 21:03:37 -0500

Well, after a near 40 hours on the greyhound system, culminating in the last 5 hours, during which we were trapped on a bus that smelled like straight up urine. Everywhere. We got in at 3:10am.

But we’re HERE!!!

It feels so good to be back in the South East! The air smells so good and it seems like I had forgotten how much I love trees! While on the bus, it grew dark before we had left the desert, so when dawn came the new environment (in Arkansas) was this great surprise! Instead of rocky mountains, short brush, sand and open sky, we were surrounded by changing leaves, damp trees, and farms. My heart jumped in my chest and I felt like I was home. I loved the New Mexican landscape and I wondered if it would be hard to leave it behind and go back to strips of sky just visible through canopies of trees (or city buildings, as the case may be), but as soon as the sun rose in Arkansas, I knew it was the right decision. New Mexico was never really mine (well, I suppose as a white person, none of this land is “mine”) and I think I always knew that. The East Coast is home to me.

Anyway, our wonderful wonderful friends picked us up at the greyhound station and I got to sleep a few sweet hours. Then it was my birthday! And it was probably the best birthday I’ve had in a long long time. Amy took me out to Indian food for lunch and then we picked up Parker from daycare and took her to the playground. I expected her to remember me, sure, but it’s been a few months since she’s seen me and several months since we’ve spent a lot of time together. Well, when we walked into her daycare, she ran to her mom, saw me and stopped dead. This HUGE smile spread over her little face and she walked over to me with her arms wide open. She gave me this huge hug, resting her head on my shoulder, and pulling her face back every couple of minutes to look me in the eye and smile at me more. I was dying, it was so sweet.

I have about a trillion pictures and videos of Parker being amazing and I’m going to use all the self-control I have to not post every single one of them. I recognize that most people don’t need 10,000 photos of someone else’s kid.

There was partying at the playground, tea-drinking at AmyAndParker’s house and finally drinks all around at my favorite pub in all of Atlanta The Marlay House with good good friends. What more could a girl ask for?

Today, we had brunch with the lovely Sarah and a stroll through Little Five Points, where I treated myself to a new women’s herbal from the feminist bookstore in town.

It just feels so good to be home! I’m so looking forward to SOAW this year and seeing my grandmother again. I’m so excited about settling down in Asheville, seeing our good friends and living in the same city as them! I’m excited about my classes and find myself just plowing through the books I’ve already bought (and drooling over Anne Frye’s books which I cannot wait to buy!!!! But why why why are they so expensive???). I’m loving everything I’m knitting (I finished my cabled cowl, started on my shawl and am anticipating long johns as my next project) and feeling both incredibly antsy and totally faithful all at the same time.

Hallelujah.

Last days in New Mexico.

Fri, 11 Nov 2011 18:46:19 -0500

Hillary and I are leaving town the day after tomorrow! I’m amazed by how little real preparation this has required. I suppose this is what happens after giving away most of one’s belongings.

Fall is in full force here in Albuquerque, so much so that I wonder if I’ll have missed it when I get to the South East (of course, fall doesn’t start until December in Atlanta).

Things we have done to prepare for departure:

Gone to see the Sand Hill Cranes land in San Antonio, NM (a sight for sure!)

Knit and knit and knit and knit

Watched 7/8 Harry potter movies… 5 of them in one day (no, I am not kidding and no I never ever want to do that again).

made birthday presents for a special birthday girl (no, not me) who will be THREE YEARS OLD in just over a week! (I suppose this counts as “…and knit and knit”)

Spent time with friends we’ll miss

Watched fall colors

all the cotton woods are yellow now… (tree outside our bedroom)

and this morning I hiked one of the canyons around the Sandia Mountain

It had snowed!

Tomorrow, the priest we have been living with for the past couple of months will do a mass for us at Trinity House and we’ll have a goodbye party.

I’m so eager to start heading east again. Tired as I am of moving and being uprooted and unstable, I find myself with new energy for this trip. It feels like we’re moving in a good direction and pursuing something life-giving.

Hillary found a website called Zero Tuition College, an online community of unschooling adults. She has been inspired to give a slightly more formal structure to the knowledge/education she has been pursuing for years. You can follow that on her new blog The Unschooled Seminarian. I’m really excited for both of us, as we pursue education in a way that makes sense for us.

Chelsea shared with me a sermon that a classmate of hers had written on advent. I wish I could share it here, but I don’t have the author’s permission to do so. The sermon was about advent from the view of the pregnant woman. Those of us who think of Advent, might think of it as expectant waiting for family time or presents or for the holida-infused consumerism to stop (FINALLY). Advent for Mary was expectant waiting of new life, new creation. Over nine months, she watched her body change, her belly swell, her breasts grow heavy. By December, she was tired, her feet were swollen, but she joyfully awaited the birth of her baby, her miracle, our messiah. Of course, birth is not just transition for the baby, but for the mother as well. Her body changed, her mind changes and then her life changes forever. How do we await God’s gifts? Do we focus on our swollen feet and curse our fatigue? Or do we rejoice, knowing that God is present in our life? Do we sit, quietly, and wait, feeling the stirring inside our bodies? Do we submit ourselves to the challenge and often the discomfort of transition, of birth?

This past year and the coming months feel very pregnant. I am learning so much, growing so much and I find myself so aware of the Divine in my life.

School?

Wed, 02 Nov 2011 08:00:05 -0400

I had some difficulty in school growing up. Not necessarily in academics, but emotionally, school was a totally destructive environment for me. I was told a lot about the way I learn during those years in Public School (and during that one year my parents pulled me out of school). I was given an IndividualEducationPlan, pointers on “organization”, “studying”, writing etc. etc. I traded foreign language in middle school for support time. I was, thankfully, never told I was stupid. I was told that I had learning disabilities, that I had problems regurgitating information properly, that I didn’t have the proper attention span, that I was bad at organization, that I wasn’t really applying myself. I believed all of it- sometimes with self-defeat, other times with a self-rightoues understanding that the system I was being run through was not designed to fit me (though I still believed it fit most everyone else). I knew that grades and tests and papers did not reflect my true understanding of subject matter (haven’t we all scraped good grades in subjects we were totally lost in and found ourselves disappointed with grades on papers that we really enjoyed researching?), but I did not see any way out of this system (oh, how I wish I could go up to every high school student and shake them awake- NONE OF THIS MATTERS IN THE REAL WORLD! NONE OF IT! unless you want to be a high school teacher… in which case, remember all of it!).

As many of you know, I dropped out of college after one semester and have not looked back. Initially, I intended to continue my academic life at some point, believing I just needed a break. Over time, I came to realize how little our education system serves us, how little a college-degree provides, how deeply debt restricts us, that this system is only set up to marginalize those with little means (either through exclusion or by debt). I could not, nor did I want to, return.

Since then, my ideas and understanding have further developed to become skeptical of degrees, certification, and institutionalized learning in general. I believe firmly in a diversity of educational opportunities for ALL children and adults. For some (albeit few), the rigid structure and the system of institutional education is quite helpful! All power to ‘em. For many, it’s not. We all learn differently! I’ve come to learn a lot about and from Waldorf schools, Montessori schools, Free schools, Friends schools, unschooling and apprenticeship models. These different models work excellent for differently-talented individuals and groups of folks.

Since leaving school, I’ve discovered a LOT about how I learn and function. Much of it, not surprisingly, is quite contrary to what I was told about myself in my school days. I can look back and begin to see how different styles of education and different environments could have allowed me to flourish. I consider often, what kind of learning environment I want to provide for my own (future) children, and acknowledge that they will probably turn all of my carefully thought-out theories on their heads! My job, then, will be to listen to my children tell me how and what they need to learn.

So! after all of this, I am moving to Asheville… to go to “school”…

As I wrestled with my calling to midwifery, I wondered how I would go about gaining the skills and knowledge I need. There are many paths to becoming a midwife, which you can look up, or as me about if you want to know more, and they range from self-study to nursing school, all with varying degrees of legality (depending on the state, country etc.). I knew I did not want to follow the nursing (CNM) path, but that still left me with a lot of choices, many of which are difficult to discover, as midwifery is often practiced (and therefore taught) extralegally or illegally. I value the apprenticeship model immensely and knew that I wanted (and needed) that to be the biggest part of my “education”- but did I need to go to “school”? Plenty of midwives accept apprentices without formal education and I know I can study books theory on my own. I’m wary of GPAs, graded tests, credits- all those things that tend to limit our learning, rather than prove it. If I were to participate in a program, it would be for the community-building, community-ties, the chance to talk with others seeking the same knowledge I am. Yes, I want accountability in that knowledge; I want challenge! I know that the practice of midwifery is more than understanding anatomy and physiology, more than taking heart tones and blood pressure, more than vaginal exams and timing contractions. I wanted a program that would teach things holistically!

And I (think I hope I pray) I found a good fit!

I found The Matrona pretty early on in my search for midwifery programs. I liked the approach and scope described in the program. I liked the focus on holistic care, good communication, intuition, herbal and homeopathic medicine and the understanding that women’s bodies work best when left ALONE! Most of the programs were in the Pacific North West, however, and I have little desire to relocate there. So, I looked and looked and looked and looked and, months (years?) later… The Matrona Immersion Midwifery Program 2012… is to be held in Asheville, NC!

I filled out my application and spoke with Whapio over the phone. I already knew that I liked the way she thought about birth and midwifery, but when I heard her talk about the structuring of her program, I was for sure excited. She spoke about her program being about life and midwifery- not just clinical care. She spoke about the importance of communication, conflict resolution, counseling, and development of intuition. She told me that she gives optional reading every night because she believes the communal experience of coming to class everyday (without shame or fear) is more important than completing assignments on a rigid timeline (when you could always do them later- even after the course is ending!). She told me that she gives tests (with the answers) for us to take home and complete at the end of the program and keep for ourselves, because, of course, we will understand the results of our testing and what that means for us better than anyone else. Her understanding of priority in the “classroom” (or, living room as the case may be) is so in line with my values about education (which can often be rather anarchistic).

Then, a few weeks ago, I registered for the program.

So, it is with confidence and excitement that I embark upon this journey. I ask for your prayers (and if you have any connections to possible employment in Asheville, that wouldn’t hurt either).

Back East

Tue, 01 Nov 2011 09:56:07 -0400

How long has it been since my last post? I knew this would happen! Now it’s a quarter past six in the morning and I can’t sleep, so this may be a great time to catch up.

When I last left you, Hillary and I were living at Trinity House Catholic Worker and I had just been mugged. Since then, Hillary went to the ER, we moved out of Trinity House, I got into “school”, we road-tripped to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon, made it back to Albuquerque in one piece (barely!) and we are now beginning to pack our things and wrap up here, as we prepare to make our way back to the South East (this time to Asheville, NC) just in time to catch the annual SOAW demonstration in Columbus, GA.

We still work at Trinity House, running hospitality, 3 days a week (we love the guests!), but we could not longer continue to reside there, due to an extreme allergy Hillary seems to have to an environmental allergen in the house (probably a mold that our bodies are unfamiliar with, being that we’re east coast ladies). She suffered a 14 day migraine that landed her in the ER, but which miraculously disappeared 2 days after sleeping elsewhere.

We are now living a block from Trinity House with a really lovely couple who we met at church! One is a former family practitioner, the other an Episcopal priest (Oh, if only Hillary and I were a bit more mainstream, they might well be us!). We are so grateful for the opportunity to get to meet, grow to know and live with such wonderful people! I am so amazed by their incredible hospitality; they took us in with no hesitation after meeting us once and very briefly! We have fallen into a comfortable rhythm of sharing meals, sharing chores and sharing time with each other. After struggling so hard to “make” community for so long, I have to laugh at the ease with which we have found it in this house. These people are such the example of Jesus’ teachings of hospitality- offering us not only shelter and food, but a home, meals, fellowship and mentorship. I think often of the perfect, beautiful, irony of coming here to Albuquerque with the intention of offering hospitality and finding myself so joyfully on the receiving end. If I were Hillary, I would be able to think of the verse in which Jesus blesses his disciples with the knowledge that they (we) will always have to be on the receiving end of hospitality and the works of mercy.

We went to Las Vegas, NV! And the Grand Canyon! I’m sure I don’t have to tell you I much preferred the latter. But, oh Las Vegas, what a trip.

It was a very cold ride, in an old veg-oil mercedes with no passenger side window. We wore many layers. (do you recognize that awesome red sweater that Hillary is wearing? That one I started knitting for her back in June? Well, it’s done!)

We caravaned with the lovely ladies in the center there: Mary and Sister Angeline. Never underestimate the speed of a nun! These ladies booked right passed us and kept on going! We finally convinced them to slow down for us young folks.

Las Vegas was… strange. We were there for the International Catholic Worker Gathering and didn’t do too much exploring of the “night life”, but what we did see was… overwhelming. The great epitome of American culture: MONEY, SEX(not the good kind), FOOD, DRUGS! emphasized with flashing lights and glitter to boot. We walked around a couple of casinos, mouths agape, and listened to drunken gamblers sing America the Beautiful with glasses raised in a bar within a casino. The gathering was fine. I’m easily overwhelmed by large groups of people, and there were some discouraging conversation with former friends from other communities, but I helped with a round table on sexuality in the Catholic Worker movement, met some interesting people, and got to hear Wes and Sue Howard-Brook give a talk connected to Wes’ new book: Unveiling Empire. The round table was perhaps a bit disappointing. I forget how far radical Christians have yet to come in terms of sex-positivity, but also how defensive they are about just how “tolerant”/”accepting” they and their communities are (just because you tolerate monogamously partnered gay and lesbian couples, does not mean you are sex-positive). But it’s a start.

We visited the Las Vegas Catholic Worker!

and headed back to Albuquerque, making one little stop along the way…

(Bobbie’s and my love is as deep as the canyon!)

I really didn’t feel like I could leave the South West without seeing it for myself.

We finally made it home after a bit of debacle and by the grace of God.

But now we’re trading scenery again.

These mountains…

for these…

Asheville, NC!

We hop on a bus in less than 2 weeks! We’ll arrive in Atlanta the night before my birthday and spend a couple of days with friends until heading down to Columbus for the SOAW demonstration (and to see my grandmother!). Then, it’s over to Alabama to pick up Hillary’s car, pup and eat some Thanksgiving food. We should arrive in Asheville a day or two after Thanksgiving!

See you there?

WWJD?

Tue, 06 Sep 2011 11:41:28 -0400

The day after getting back from Taos I went to the library and got myself a library card! I was so proud of myself for getting to the library without getting lost, taking the bus myself and having unlimited access to library materials in this city!

I took the bus back down Central, got off at the right stop and started walking back down the Acequias toward the house. It started raining and I wondered if the bag I was carrying would properly protect its contents. I heard foot steps behind me and a low voice said “Excuse me!”, so I stepped to the side to let a person pass me. Only, the person didn’t pass me. He jogged up beside me, turned and started walking me back against the fence. Confused, I kept stepping to the side, and that’s when I saw the gun in his hand.

I’d never had a gun pointed at me before, despite having lived in “high crime” areas of town during most (okay, all) of my adult life. I always assumed it would happen to me at some point and I’ve thought often of what kind of response I would like to have in that situation. When it happened, I couldn’t think much at all. Time seemed to stand still and I struggled to make sense of the words the man was yelling at me. Finally, after what seemed like far too long, I understood he was asking for my bag. I handed it to him and I watched him take off on foot in the direction from which he came. The rain was pouring down harder and I ran the rest of the Acequia to our street.

What to do? How do I protect myself, take care of myself? What are my responsibilities to my neighbors, my community, to this man himself, to his family? How do my values, morals, and faith play into this and how do they dictate my next steps?

I do not believe in our criminal justice system. I do not support police, especially not the Albuquerque Police Department, that has “unnecessarily” killed far too many citizens of late (wait, aren’t all murders unnecessary?). I do not believe that our jails or prisons protect us or that they in anyway help/change/deter folks who commit crimes. I am committed to nonviolence. I am committed to working outside of the police state, outside of our criminal (in)justice system, outside of our prison system. I am a committed disciple of the nonviolent, redeemer Jesus Christ. I believe in reconciliation and redemption. I believe that God works through love and miracles, not through violence, not through guns, not through prisons, not through man-made power structures.I believe that these systems we have created for ourselves necessarily create MORE violence in our society and disallow for reconciliation and redemption (ie giving up violence and recommitting one’s life to positive work).

At the same time, this man has a gun and cornered me, an intentionally unarmed woman. True, he never hurt me, but can I say that he never would have? What responsibilities do I have to my community to keep this man from a violent altercation with another person?

Also, there is the protection of my identity to consider. My ID and bank cards were stolen and my cellphone. My identity could easily be used without my knowledge with this information. Do I want to protect these privileges of mine that so many in this country (and especially this state) are forced to live without? If so, is it possible to protect these privileges of mine without depending on the police, without giving them information that could land an individual in jail or prison?

How do my privileges play into this as a white, middle class, English-speaking citizen? Especially when the person who robbed me is a man of color, whose first language may not have been English, who may not be a citizen? How would this be different if I were a woman of color? If I were a man? If I were not a citizen? If the person who robbed me had been white? Had been a woman?

I wish I could say I considered all of these things before acting, but I didn’t. I stepped off the Acequia and saw a cop car pull around the corner. I waved it down without a thought, sputtered something about a man and a gun and was invited into the backseat. I sat on the hard plastic seat, rainwater pooling around me and I stared at the smooth plastic surface where the inside handle should have been, had this not been a police vehicle.

The police officer asked me where I lived and what had happened. I told her I lived at Trinity House, just down the street, and something clicked in me. I told her I was very sorry, but that I was a Christian and that I could not report this because it could result in the person getting arrested. I repeated this several times until she let me out of the car. She was very nice and very concerned and I appreciated her kindness and how little she tried to pressure me into making the report. She let me walk home.

After many helpful conversations with my current house-mates, I eventually decided to file a police report without identifying information about the man. I’m not quite comfortable with my decision, but at that moment, the privileges that my good credit, my bank account and my identification award me felt more important than refusing to work with the police. It was humbling to admit that and be able to recognize that this was a choice that I made. I did not have to cooperate with the police, I did not have to protect myself. I made a choice to protect the privileges I have as a white, middle class, educated, english-speaking, documented, citizen with a bank account and I can’t get out of responsibility for that.

I wonder what Jesus would have done. Of course, that’s kind of a silly question. Jesus would not have had a computer or a checking account or a cell phone or a digital camera or a credit card or (quite probably) any form of identification. Not (only) because such things did not exist in the time he lived, but because he would have been preaching and teaching against those very instruments of empire!

So, no, Jesus would not have carried those things (and therefore never could have had them stolen from him), but what do Jesus’ teachings require that I do now? How do I learn from this experience and make decisions about how to carry on in my life? What does Jesus teach us about theft, crime and violence and how to respond to it? What does Jesus teach us about creativity in reconcilliation and how can I apply that to this situation (if it isn’t too late) and future situations? How can I take this opportunity to make changes to my life and what I possess to better reflect my values?

High Desert

Thu, 25 Aug 2011 10:00:05 -0400

As I said before, Hillary and I took a couple of days to drive North!

We filtered some Veg-Oil for the car, loaded her up and hit the road (leaving it smelling like french fries and fried dough)!

Taos is about 3 hours North of Albuquerque. Because this state is so sparsely inhabited (compared to what I am used to), directions are fairly easy- very few roads to choose from! We drove through Santa Fe and got to Taos a couple of hours before sundown.

Have I mentioned the MOUNTAINS? and the DESERT? The whole drive, I felt like a small child with my head out the window, hair blowing in my eyes pointing at every mountain, plateau, plain, mesa, and devastatingly beautiful view. Hillary humored me and acknowledged my continuous awe with a validating: “yes, dear, it is truly amazing” after all my exclamations. But, really, she was awe-struck too.

The mountains were enourmous and, like in Albuquerque, we could see exactly where they began and every nook and cranny on them. It felt too large for my eyes to register and it took my breath away (though perhaps that was also the altitude… hmmm).

I wish our tiny cameras could have captured the views in all their glory, but isn’t it kind of nice that technology falls short of that miracle?

We stayed at the SnowMansion, a truly amazing hostel in Arroyo Seca, just North of Taos.

Everything was perfect. The view, the air (it was 70 degrees at 5pm!!!!), the gardens, the accommodations, the tiny little “town” it was in…

There were many options for sleep-space from bunks, to tipis to camping, but Hillary and I reserved a “cabin”

which was about the size of a large tool shed- just large enough for a full sized bed (that’s a twin bed on top of it) and a desk with a minifridge under it. It was perfect!

We slept in, ate a gigantic brunch and walked around town, wondering aloud if we ever, really, had to leave. For a while now, I’ve been considering attending a midwifery program that is in Taos, but, of course, there is so much to consider. Location has been a big issue, as Hillary and I have just been able to quit our jobs to seek a life of discipleship (where-ever that leads us…) and we’re not too keen on having to go back to having to work too much, earn enough to get by, pay rent on some apartment etc. etc. Even if it allows me to participate in this program.

But OH after spending just a few hours at the base of these mountains, we were sold. I suppose I should actually consider some of the other practical aspects of this program before making any kind of (even just a verbalized) commitment, but if it allows me to justify waking up to that kind of view everyday… well….

More Rio Grande! This is South of Taos on our way out of town.

We stopped at Our Lady Guadeloupe Church just off the highway, built in the early 1800s (maybe 1817? Hillary would probably remember, but I don’t), it still looks solid, timeless and so perfectly grand for the tiny, dirt roads around it.

redundant, maybe, but I love both these pictures.

The graveyard for the church

The differences between the markers was fascinating.

and this friend was waiting just outside the barbed wire… guard deer?

(yes, it’s plastic).

Eventually we did come back to Albuquerque and were greeted with happy faces. I made myself an official citizen of Albuquerque by getting myself a library card (and not getting lost on my way there), so it looks like we’ll have to wait a little bit before running away to Taos (like, at least a week, right?)

Peace.

Lay of the Land

Wed, 24 Aug 2011 14:36:38 -0400

Wow, New Mexico is blowing my mind. I am an east coast girl! I grew up in New England and have (until now) spent all of my adult life in the South East. I’ve ridden and flown all up and down the east coast! Until now, I had only ridden in a car as far west as Louisiana (once to Jena, once to New Orleans), have had a brief visit with the mid-west (re: Jesus Radicals), and once, about 8 years ago, I flew to San Fransisco for a week. Oh, the southwest is unbelievable to me!

So much sand! And green! I’m not sure what i was expecting…

The Rio Grande runs through Taos, Santa Fe and Albuquerque. These little arroyos (is that what they’re called?) cut through neighborhoods and allow people living along them access to the water via these little gates that can be open or shut to flood backyards. This is how folks are able to grow things here.

And, OH the mountains!

Friends, I thought I’d seen some mountains… But these mountains here- OH MY! they are so bare and so close and, due to a lack of tall trees and greenery, one can see exactly where they start and see all the rocks and sand and… and… wow.

The buildings here are mighty different as well. Everything feels kind of unreal, like I’ve walked into a book or a movie or something. This land is so different from anything I’ve known and I feel as though I have to re-learn so much about how I move.

Getting settled into Trinity House is proving a challenge for me, as I could have easily guessed. I’m quite comfortable in my role as host, supervisor, do-er, organizer… yes, it’s quite obvious I’m one of those people who feels most comfortable when i have Everything-Under-Control. Now, here I am in a new region, new city, new house with new people, new rules, new unspoken assumptions and I feel totally lost. I’m trying to remember to be open, be humble and let God’s spirit move through me and those around me. The Quaker practice of prayer is helpful to remember… that we are in expectant waiting for The Spirit, but that does NOT mean we try to decide what the calling will be, what form it will take or how it will lead us. Have I mentioned I’m a rather impatient person? Yes, this takes time and the only job I have right now is to wait, listen and trust. Wait for things to come together (or apart), wait for a leading, listen to those around me, listen to myself, listen for God, trust those around me enough to be honest about my needs and understandings, trust that God has brought me here for a reason, even if I do not yet know what that reason is.

Chelsea and Marcus were so kind to lend us their car for a “weekend” getaway these past couple of days (our “weekend” here is Monday and Tuesday), so Hillary and I drove up to Taos for the night. I have all those pictures ready to share, but I don’t want to overwhelm this post, so I’ll make it separate.

Albuquerque!

Sat, 20 Aug 2011 20:13:09 -0400

I arrived in Albuquerque on Wednesday evening after an exhausting visit with family (it really never does get easier, does it?)

I am so happy to be reunited with my sweetheart and sitting still for a while! I must admit, it’s now strange to think about staying anywhere for more than a week at a time- seeking to inhabit space in a more indefinite way is almost as anxiety-producing as being on the road all the time!

We’ll be at Trinity House for at least the next couple of weeks, perhaps longer, if it seems like the kind of idea we’d all be into.

Amen, friends.

Trinity House just got a “new” truck! We showed it off for you…

The living room/dining room area where we serve the guests who come to visit and where we put our feet up (not at the same time… usually).

This kitchen is blessed with so much food!

The back yard

Chelsea and Bobbie make sweet welcome signs for us

This is where we sleep! Hillary helped it feel more like home, by bringing some of our home with us

like this Last Supper I made for Hillary last year our of fabric scraps

Vulcan

Hillary and I got my first full day in town “off” together, so we went exploring. New Mexico is like no place I have ever been. The landscape is different, the weather is different, the people are different… When I flew in, the city seemed HUGE because it was so flat and I could see EVERY light. Then the lights just stop and there’s nothing… just NOTHING! Riding down Central St. downtown, you either see a giant naked mountain peeking up over the buildings or you see dessert on the horizon. More shots of New Mexico to come…

it's been a while

Wed, 10 Aug 2011 23:20:20 -0400

So, it’s been a while, friends! I knew this would happen!

I made it back to Atlanta, helped Hillary close out the house, headed to Minneapolis and SURPRISE! ended up in Massachusetts a couple of days later. Surprise visit for a couple of weeks.

Here are some highlights of the past few weeks:

is a little PERSON!

Not a baby, not a toddler, but a running, jumping, talking PERSON!

who likes to feed Lucy apples.

JESUS RADICALS!

Hillary and Amaryah drove long distances and we arrived in Minneapolis!

Iowa was very flat

Hey Dar Williams- where them hills?

We spent some nights with friends of Chelsea from New Mexico who were so sweet to host a handful of strangers.

Amaryah and W were fast friends.

The conference itself was… long. It was so great to see old friends from Lynchburg and meet new friends from New Mexico! The first day of panels and workshops was disappointing, but the second day was much better. Chelsea has been a part of writing some very wonderful articles called Holy Queering on the Jesus Radicals website and she, Amaryah and another friend did a wonderful job at presenting queerness within radical Christianity at the conference. We heard Ched Myers speak as well and attended a fabulous workshop also lead by Chelsea and Amaryah.

OFF TO NEW ENGLAND!

Where I visited with some of my favorite ladies. Nancy on the left there got out of prison on the first of July, so it had been about six months since I’d seen my grandmother! Barbara, my step grandmother, I hadn’t seen in quite a few years. She has a brand new baby grandson in Germany who she is about to visit!

Nancy and I visited for a week in her home in upstate NY. She has my favorite house of all time and I have secret dreams of living out my days there, no matter how implausible that may be.

I came back to Boston on Monday to visit with my family and friends for a week and a half. Sister came to town to visit! I had not seen her in two years! (which is a lot longer for a 19-21 year old than it is for those old folks of mine…)

Sister and I took DaddyDearest to good ol’ Drumlin Farm (a good throw back to any of you raised in the Boston area. You probably went to at least 25 field trips here).

I have about a week left in my visit and then I’m off to Albuquerque! My sweetheart is already making herself comfortable there. I can’t wait to join her.

Wrapping up time at Little Flower

Sat, 09 Jul 2011 21:02:49 -0400

Things have been moving along here

candyland has been played

Markers have been abused

and siblings attacked

Today we went to the Wayside Center for Popular Education for their first anniversary party.

There were workshops, but mostly this is what we did

There was also some napping

which let me get some more knitting done. I’m almost done with the 2nd sleeve of Hillary’s birthday sweater.

Can we see some more of that napping?

What’s that you say? You’re tired of seeing picture after picture after picture of other people’s children who you could care less about?

Well, you’re in luck. I’m leaving Little Flower tomorrow to go back to Lynchburg for a week. I only know of one child in that community, and she is very skeptical of me (and most everyone).

So much gratitude to everyone here who fed me, sheltered me and entertained me.

Goodbye, Little Flower!!!