Clean.

A brand new year

This post isn't about my cat.

But I'm worried about her. My-stomach-all-in-knots kind of worried.

She's been sick for two weeks. Really sick.

Stumped vet and teaspoons of broth kind of sick.

Wake up in the morning and hope she's still alive sick.

 

I'm doing the best that I can for her.

Every day.

And yet I wonder how this knot I've been carrying in my stomach serves either of us.

I'm taking good care of her, yet I'm making myself sick at the same time.

Why do I do this?

 

In other (seemingly unrelated) news, I've recently been on the receiving end of two angry outbursts via social media.

(Stick with me for a minute. Because this will tie back to the cat and that knot in my stomach and yes, a fresh start in the new year in just a moment.)

Both outbursts were very random, came out of nowhere, and left me feeling vulnerable and wounded.

And they both left me wondering why on earth people lash out like this - to strangers or loved ones, in person or anonymously.

 

And then I realized - - their anger and my anxiety are one in the same.

Both are big emotions that hijack our bodies and our minds.

Both feel largely out of our control.

And both have a profound effect on our health and happiness and even our relationships.

We each have our achilles heel.

That thing we do, day after day, that doesn't serve us, or that down right undermines our success and joy.

For you it might be a short temper.

Or a need to be in control.

Perfectionism.

Or habitual irritation.

Maybe you're always the martyr.

Or always need to be right.

 

So what if this New Year instead of resolutions we simply acknowledged what we struggle with?

We owned it.

We searched for the gift hidden deep within.

We set an intention to move along a different path, one small and mindful step at a time.

What if we pulled it out into the light and said, "This is hard for me. I'm working on it."

Whatever burden you carry, what about lightening it just a bit in the coming year?

 

Because within each of these struggles are real feelings that need tending.

And often old wounds as well.

As in:

If you have a need to be in control of every situation, maybe your life has felt out-of-control for a long time.

If you are a perfectionist, maybe you picked up the message that if you don't do it all just so then you're worthless.

If you are hard on your kids, maybe you carry fears about their future.

If you constantly worry (ahem) maybe it means that are very sensitive and need to acknowledge that yes, the world can be a big and scary place, but also that things almost always turn out okay.

 

As for me, I'm reaching for a feeling of safety.

I'm asking myself what the worst possible outcome is that I'm worrying about, and then make a plan to move through what is - as well as what might be.

I'm reminding myself that things almost always turn out okay.

 

And I'm also reaching for compassion.

For those around me who are in the thick of their own struggles and lashing out through their words or actions.

I'm finding forgiveness and reaching for goodness in this brand new year.

What about you?

Is there something you're ready to pull out into the light this year?

 

 

 

 

 

Cheer

Without debate, this year's celebration was unanimously voted the best Solstice ever.

Delicious, simple food.

Candle rolling.

Gingerbread house decorating.

Treats and sweets.

A visit from our friend and neighbor Dan.

Handmade gifts.

An the highlight for us all, a sunset hike to the woods and a campfire until long after dark.

Then we whispered our wishes for the coming season into the fire, and mindfully let go of the things that are holding us back.

And then... Christmas! We were off to Milwaukee to celebrate with my sister and my parents back home.

More simple sweetness and celebration.

And yes, more good food and treats. Oh, my.

An easy, magical holiday.

I even managed a whole day with a dear friend who's been by my side since high school. Such a rare treat.

And then, before we knew it, we were back home.

(Yes, and walking the goats.)

We're finding our groove on the farm once more, and counting our blessings with each sunrise and sunset over these hills.

Because no matter how wonderful the time away, it's always so good to be home.

How was your holiday, friends? 

 

 

 

 

 

A public service announcement

I first posted this for you last spring, the day before Easter. Perhaps it will become a holiday tradition.

This gentle reminder, as you embrace the heck out of your perfectly imperfect celebration.

Message for today:

Cut yourself some slack. You'll never get it all done.

So instead of racing about, find the courage to say: "I've done enough. I am enough."

Life - or your house or your holiday - doesn't need to be perfect, nor will it be. So enjoy today and find magic in the small, ordinary moments of your amazing life.

Merry Christmas to you and those you hold dear.

Love,
Rachel

Solstice Cheer! A holiday card from the Wolf Family

The Wolfs, from left to right: Pete, Rachel, Sage & Lupine

Oh, what a year it has been!

Our first year on the farm.

Chickens.

Gardens.

Apple trees.

Sheep.

Goats.

A llama!

Cutting hay, butchering chickens, canning food, and then cooling off with an icy dip in the creek.

Lyme disease.

Health's return.

Floods.

A cycle of seasons in a valley that's stolen my heart.

 

And so, so much more.

 

And somehow also finding my authentic voice here.

 

Today is our Solstice celebration. Our biggest and favorite family celebration of the year!

If you dropped by today you'd find us rolling or dipping candles; decorating our gingerbread houses; and eating too many cookies.

We'll be sledding; maybe skiing; and hiking in the woods for a campfire at dusk.

We'll be stoking the wood-fired hot tup for a midnight soak, and staying up way past everyone's bedtime on this longest night of the year.

And we'll be sharing wished and dreams for the coming year with each other in the quiet darkness.

 

Happy Solstice to each and every one of you.

And Merry Christmas to those who hold Christmas dear... in fact, happy anything and everything that makes your heart glad.

 

So much love,

Rachel

 

A pause from busy

We ended up doing some baking after all.

Not a ton. But just enough.

Solstice spirals and gingerbread for the houses we'll decorate on Solstice night.

It was easy and fun, which sometimes it isn't when I have an agenda.

I was happy to be free of the agenda.

Because truly, I didn't care if we baked one batch or a dozen.

We mixed and rolled and cut and baked and cleaned-up all morning.

 

Then, after buttoning up the last of some holiday crafts it was time to get out.

All four of us.

To the woods.

 

Because being productive makes you crazy after a while.

 

Or at least me.

Suddenly all I needed was fresh crisp air, sunshine, and the quiet of the woods.

And now.

And so we embarked.

Throwing snowballs (packing snow in the sunny spots!), laughing, and racing through the field.

It was the "warm" outside that only makes sense to someone who lives far enough from the equator to have a winter season that sneaks deep into fall and spring.

A mittens-off sort of warm.

There were fresh tracks everywhere in the woods and abandoned nests from last summer's babies, piled high with snow.

By the time we reached the creek the sun was dipping behind the hills.

It was deeply quiet but for the sound of the snow beneath our boots.

We hiked to the top of the ridge and noticed things we had missed in noise of summer.

 

By the time we were back home an hour or two later I felt transformed.

Because more than I even knew I needed a break from the busy.

From the productive.

From the mad dance of doing that is December.

And when I woke this morning (after falling asleep an hour earlier than usual) I realized that taking care of myself is as important as taking care of my kids or my partner; gifts, food or the magic of childhood.

I realized that I can take a break without getting sick and being forced into resting by aches or fever.

So that's my plan.

From here, I'm making time for rest, for play, for long walks in the woods.

For knitting for the sake of knitting. Something for myself.

I'm making time for me.

Because two batches of cookies and a hike in the snow is a way better plan that a dozen types of sweets on Christmas eve.

Agreed?

I thought so.

 

Will you join me?

Because I'd just love to know that you're out there, somewhere, taking care of you, too.

Valuing you.

Pausing in the busyness, if only for a moment.

 

I'd love to know that we're re-writing the story of what it means to mother, as we love our family - and yes, ourselves - all in the same breath.

 

Love,
Rachel

 

 

 

The season

In which I show photos of snowy animals while taking about crafts.

Try not to be confused.

 

It's the time of year when I'm obsessively pouring my creative energy into making of all sorts. Knitting, sewing, embroidery, glass etching (what the?!), and woodworking.

Every. Day. Because Solstice is what... 3 days away?

 

And baking.

Oh, mercy. The baking!

 

I'd forgotton about the baking.

 

With just one batch each of biscotti and thumbprints baked so far, I'm wondering if I've got gluten-free lefse and rosettes in me this year. Or anything else for that matter.

Time will tell.

(And less is more, right? Right.)

 

The kids are busy too.

Embroidery, cross stitch, snow globes, ornaments, and various wood-crafts.

Pete's been hiding out in the woodshop - and yes the sewing room - crafting up some magic of his own. (No, he's not knitting these days. He was a one-hit wonder on the dpn's.)

 

Tis the season for being crafty.

And it's fun!

And insane.

 

Okay, it's totally insane.

How did this happen anyway, with all my talk of keeping it simple?

 

Because though our gifts are few, we go a little crazy with the handcrafting.

 

When I look at what we're making it's a lovely small heap of handmade goodness. Warm jammies. An ornament. Stockings stuffed with "love coupons", twig dollhouse furniture and a small handknit each.

 

But still.

When you add extended family to the holiday list, the crafting becomes a full-time job.

 

Thus it's simple. And remarkably overwhelming.

 

But I wouldn't want it any other way.

 

When we're not hunkered down crafting in far flung corners of our house (if that's possible in 1000 square feet) we're outside hauling hay and water and talking to animals.

 

Our first winter as animal keepers/pseudo-mini-homestead-farmers is upon us.

 

It has been a bit of a roller-coaster, reminiscent of those first weeks with our first child.

Not because that much has gone wrong. But rather because I'm anxiously waiting for it to go wrong.

You know. The "I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing-and-I-suspect-everything-is-eight-seconds-from-going-haywire" stage?

(Please tell me some of you went through that stage as a mother and I'm not the only one. Even if you didn't.)

The "What's-that-noise?-What's-that-lump?-What's-that-smell?-Oh,-Lord,-please-don't-let-me-kill-them" stage? You remember. Don't you?

 

Well, regardless, we're there again.

But with livestock instead of children.

 

Thank goodness for patient, more experienced friends who can respond to my neurotic emails with a laugh and a "No, honey. That's not a tumor. It's her rumen."

 

Oh, mercy. It's going to be a long winter.

 

And then?

And then we got a llama.

Just in case we needed an animal over 6' tall to fret about.

Meet Guinness. Our guard llama.

He's a honey. Unless, of course, you're a predator who comes to mess with our lambs.

Then he's supposed to get nasty.

 

Oh, my. It's going to be an interesting winter!