Clean.

My blog is moving!

Big news, my friends! I'm moving my blog from here to my shiny new site, rachelwolfclean.com.

I think you'll find my new blog is nicer to look at, easier to navigate, and more mobile-friendly. Do tell me what you think! Then update your favorites folders, and head over to explore and subscribe.

I don't want to lose you in the switch, so I've added an email link to the front page to simplify you keeping up-to-date on new posts. 

See you there!

 

Love,

Rachel

And home again

One week later, we worked our way across the state, making our way toward home once more.

Away from this river that I know more deeply than perhaps any other place; away from these winding wooded trails that I skied as a kid myself.

Back home to Pete and our creek and this cozy home in this snug valley that holds us ever in its embrace. 

I don't take the flexibility for granted that allowed me a week with my kids to ski and snowshoe together in the Northwoods. Not anymore, anyway. I suppose I did when they were small, but today it all feels so different. 

These days are fleeting indeed. And I am grateful beyond words for each day that I am fortunate enough to be standing here, savoring it all, with my kids standing close at my side. 

 

Cup: refilled

The year that I turned 40 I invited five or six of my favorite women to head up north to my parent's cabin with me for a long weekend of self-care. I had not made a habit of refilling my own cup since motherhood began more than a decade before, and I thought a ladies-variation on Deer Camp was finally in order.

If our family could carve out time for Pete's self-care (ala hunting season), I reasoned, why not the same for me?

I envisioned a weekend of staying up late and sleeping in; cross-country skiing and hikes through the woods; glorious food and copious, gluttonous, ridiculous amounts of knitting.

And that was just what transpired. 

Just three of the friends I had invited signed on to join me that first year: my dearest friend from college, my best friend from high school, and my sister. And we couldn't have worked out a better number or a lovelier combination of souls.

As we arrived and unpacked, I realized that these three were the very same women who had gathered with me here some 15 years before - on the day that Pete and I exchanged wedding vows in a small, private ceremony in the woods just up river.

We have history, these ladies and I. They where among the first to hold my babies after they arrived earth-side. They are the mothers of babies that I, too, was lucky to hold when they were still new. They were among the community who showed up at the hospital and stood beside us when Sage was small and life was frightening and our future uncertain. They have known me longer and through more struggles and triumphs than most.

These three are among the women for whom I do my best to show up, year after year, season after season, moment after moment in the ways that they need me most. And each of them are among the friends who do the same for me.

 

That first weekend was just what I had hoped for. And every year since then the four of us have gathered in mid-winter or early spring for a weekend alongside the river. We put our lives on hold, we reconnect, we laugh, we cry, and we exhale.

We refill our own cups after a full and busy season of the things that we do.

 

This weekend was our fourth such gathering. And just as the years before, this one was meaningful, restorative, and deepened my ties yet again to these woman who have shared in some or all of the most pivotal chapters of my life.

Though our lives are so very different, there are countless common threads that weave through us all.  

I'll be the first to admit that it isn't often easy to break away or to make time for ourselves. Refilling our own cups rarely comes first.

But once a year we manage to press the pause button. We load up the car with comfort food, yarn, and skis and take a moment just for ourselves.

I am so grateful that we do.

And, indeed, I am grateful for the roles these women have played in my life. 

 

Looking back

(Photo by Ray+Kelly Photography)

Sometimes when a year draws to a close I am at a loss to pinpoint the one or two defining moments from the seasons before. 

Not this year.

2017 was the biggest year I can remember since we moved to the farm. So much has unfolded in the past 12 months - some of it difficult, some of it transformational, and - honestly - much of it both.

2017 was a year of endings, and also of beginnings.

In 2017 we took a break (for the moment anyway) from caring for sheep and goats. This ending was a most difficult decision but felt (and continues to feel) so right to all of us.

Just as we had hoped, it opened up space for us to travel as a family (Ireland!), something we have longed for for ages. We're already planning our 2018 trip, something we wouldn't have done without reprioritizing and making space in our lives for what matters now.

Another ending (of a more modern sort) quietly took place last winter when I deleted my personal Facebook account (best. decision. ever.). There were a variety of reasons that I took this action - if you've ever contemplated it yourself you already know the list - and the space that this created has been expansive. It has been a win for me in terms of my time, available energy, creativity, and general anxiety level. This small change allowed me to take on some exciting projects that may not have come to pass had I been distracted by the constant chatter of social media.

One of those projects very much defined the past six months for me. I can't say more except to promise to share more with you just as soon as I can in 2018! Add to that the three herbal retreats that happened this year, including our parent-child summer camp, and it was a full and rewarding year indeed. 

 (Photo by Ray+Kelly Photography)

I also quit drinking this year. Though I have always been a moderate drinker, I've been a habitual one as well. Somehow at 44 I felt like it was time to step into the next, healthier incarnation of myself. To model better choices to my kids. To be kinder to my body. To put my dollars where my priorities are.

It's been a couple of months already and as I have settled into this space, it feels like it was the next logical plateau for me to step onto in the healing journey I've been on for more than a decade.

This ending, letting go of my nightly glass or two of wine, was easier than I ever expected, and has opened so many doors to greater health and happiness. I'm thankful I found the courage to do it, and am so grateful to Pete for joining in and supporting me along the way. 

And, of course, I said a heartbreaking goodbye to my best guy Charlie this past year. I'm not sure what doors have opened on account of this painful ending, except that for the first time in my adult life I'm finding my way through each day without a dog by my side. That feels strangely okay right now, and that nurturing energy is being channeled into other beings that I love.

 (Photo by Ray+Kelly Photography)

In all, 2017 left me feeling optimistic, inspired, and excited for the future, and - yes - more than a little bit exhausted.  

 

Here's to a new chapter beginning in 2018, and the promise that only comes with turning to a fresh page in the calendar. 

 

Love,
Rachel

 

Lupine's play dough

The Solstice elves have been busily making play dough for your little ones this season! (Well, it might have been Lupine...)

Regardless, these magical play doughs are just waiting to be tucked under your holiday tree! You can find all the goodness right this way, in your choice of black Solstice Night, or off-white Snowball, while they last.

Order 2 or more and enjoy $1.50 off with coupon code "WINTERPLAY"! (Order by Sunday, Dec. 10 for holiday delivery.)

UPDATED: Well those went fast! Lupine's play doughs are sold out. Thanks, everyone, for your orders. You made this kid's day!

Lupine says thank you, friends!

Rachel

 

The home-stretch toward departure

I think I've taken only four or five photographs since camp more than a week ago, aside from those for LüSa or the project I'm busily completing. This is in stark contrast to my usual dozens of photos per day.

I suppose that's a decent representation of the focus of my life at the moment - no time to tarry! - as we rush about preparing for our departure, while simultaneously buttoning up many big projects around here.

I just keep reminding myself to breathe. 

We leave for the first leg of our Ireland trip on Friday or Saturday (depending on how much we can accomplish before then), detouring for a quick family visit en route to the airport on Monday.

And all the loose ends of farm, family, home, and business are rapidly presenting themselves for tying up before we go. New fencing for the cows, a quick chicken coop clean-out, housekeeping, basement tidying in case of a flood, washing the bedsheets, brushing the rabbits, on and on and on. And that's only at home! There's much to be done to prepare other aspects of our life for departure as well, most notably LüSa. 

But don't think that I'm complaining. Quite the contrary! I'm eager for this adventure to begin, and grateful for our friends, family, and LüSa crew who are making it all possible - from caring for our farm and home while we are away to keeping LüSa humming along smoothly during our absence.

And I'm so grateful for those surprise flyer miles that are making the whole thing possible.

Tomorrow Sage turns 15 (fifteen!) and then we'll be off, headed across the globe on our first oversees family adventure. I'll aim for one more post here before we leave, and after that I'll be sharing the journey both on the blog when I can and via my Instagram. I hope you'll follow along with us as we go!

And with that, I think I have a bit of work to tend to this morning. Have a wonderful Wednesday, friends.

Slán!

Rachel