The original July playlist feels unresolved so I put together another. The summer vibe expands.

Our paper making saga continues! I’m learning more with each sheet and it’s beginning to feel intuitive.

And truly, the garden is giving back in so many ways …

I’m trying to figure out how I could make an actual career out of garden things. What’s really viable in a place with a 3 month growing season? If you need me, I’ll just be over here dreamin.

The house and yard are great and it is a privilege to be on this super stolen land. It’s just … I’m ten months in and it still doesn’t feel like a home – just visiting at best. I’ve painted. I’ve built in shelves. I’ve arranged and rearranged. I’ve dug up literally everything that was possible to dig up and replaced it with a garden perfectly curated to my needs and tastes.

It is the nicest place I’ve ever lived, while growing or grown, there’s no denying that. But when I had thought of myself in my first or forever home, it shared aspects of my childhood houses. Over 100 years old, seasonal shifting (with specific creaks for each one) and constant drafts swiftly made up for by the dry heat of the wood stove. The character, the artistry, the depth and history. I loved joining the fabric of that. Your house as your biggest and life long art project. You opened the door to a meadow with flowering bushes so expansive they felt like they could swallow you whole (the country version of the wardrobe). I get overwhelmed when I consider what I’ve given up to get here. And … where am I.

I’ve been thinking a lot about where I want to be or have wanted to be and the path I’ve taken to get/not get there. It seemed clear for so long. Rural life, greenhouse(s), chickens, three goats named after the Beastie Boys. Early mornings and relaxed sunsets after full days. Children. Community. It’s hard not to question working full time for a giant corporation to afford a (next to) downtown mortgage for just two humans (and an excellent dog).

The path to that dream life held heaps of hurdles, more than I can count or recount. I easily admit to having to have a reactionary or defensive response for many years rather than being able to be deliberate with selected directions. I know that I could be happy almost anywhere I’d land (and that is a skill), but now that I finally have the agency to make real choices and to authentically choose those choices … I feel at a bit of a loss. I guess it makes sense for me to question everything now that I could really do anything. And that my first questions are directed at the job that’s opened up such financial security/possibilities/shackles.

Guess I’ll make some art about it. It’s never the wrong time to celebrate what remains.