Posts Tagged With: new year

New Year Thoughts

You may remember that I pick a word each year to help focus my efforts. Last year was NOURISH, which had some unforeseen twists. Turns out that what I learn from my word is as much about deconstruction as applying the word to my life. I redefined my way of think about what nourishing is, had a few experiences of not nourishing myself enough, and made some progress on nourishing myself as well as those around me. I adopted chickens and another cat. I increased the size of my household when my dear sister, Gabs, and Ace moved in. I finished mourning a relationship. I quit a job that wasn’t making me as happy as it had and started spending more time with the Spotts crew. I designed some great gardens this year. So all in all, a chaotic year, full of upheaval, which seem to be the ones that teach me the most.
This year’s word is POWER. I’m going to make things happen this year. I’m going to learn more about garden design and start really applying my own offbeat style to educating people about growing food and flowers, two of my favorite things. I’m going to stop undervaluing my contributions. I’m going access my powers of creativity, joy, and prodding buttock (so much more polite than kicking ass).
This year I’ll get around to canning those tomatoes. I’ll enjoy preparing and eating the food that I’ve grown. I’ve always loved giving away what I’ve produced–from fresh peas to fresh eggs to hand-knit scarves–but this year I’m going to learn to really relish these things myself. I’m going to by god break out that bread book I haven’t touched in 6 months and get cracking.
In 2010, I’m settling into my own skin, and anyone who doesn’t like it doesn’t have to hang around.
Because Spotts shuts down for a few months in the winter, I’m using this time to ferment ideas and clear out the cobwebs. I don’t want to go back to work in March and realize I spent two months watching TV, so I’ve made a list of projects, and I’m chipping away at them. So far I’ve:
–cleaned out the laundry room and set up a new laundry system.
–cleaned out and reorganized the tool room
–reorganized our furnace/storage room
–finally replaced the chains on the lights that broke about three months ago
–cleaned out the bedroom closet and dressers
–tidied up my garden book library and potting station
–finally figured out what to do about the kitchen floor
I’ll check in periodically report on what I’ve accomplished. Here’s to 2010 and prodding buttock!

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Categories: In the house, The garden year | Tags: | Leave a comment

Happy New Year!

I love new year. After the tinsel and noise and hoopla (and crazy relatives and stress and whatnot) of Christmas, the clean white promise of new year is a joy. It always feels to me like a new page, a chance to reflect on what happened in the past year and make plans for the new.

And, of course, burn stuff.
CAS and I have a long-standing new year's tradition. We write down everything we want to let go of from the past year, then we burn it. For the new year, we each pick a theme word, write it on a box, and put slips of paper with intentions for the new year in it. (Intentions, mind you, not resolutions. Resolutions are doomed to failure. Intentions help focus the mind to make changes.)
That box sits on my dresser all year as a quiet reminder. The next new year, I open the box, see how well I did on my intentions, and then burn the box before creating a new one. I tell you, it's just not a new year until I've seen those scraps of paper reduced to ash.
This year, I have chosen "Nourish" as my theme. A good word, I think, lots of room for interpretation there, as well as several avenues to pursue. I'll nourish my body better this year, and my soul. I'll nourish my relationships, and my connection to the earth. I'll nourish my creativity and my bank account. 
I'm on fire with ideas for the new year! If I accomplish half of them, I figure I'll be doing pretty well. So with that in mind, I am thrilled to report some big developments at the Fraudulent Farmstead:
My sister, Ginny, is moving in this spring. We've lived together before, and it worked well. The basement's a studio apartment, so she's got her own space; and we both save money. Also my mother stops thinking I'm dead on the highway somewhere if she doesn't hear from me regularly. 
With Gin (and my beloved dog-niece Gabs and cat-nephew Ace) moving in, I'll have another person keeping an eye on the Fraudulent Farmstead. And I said to myself, "Self, what would you really like to see around here?" And I answered, "Chickens." 
That's right. I'm going to get chickens. My former BF loathed chickens with an intensity many people reserve for flesh-eating bacteria. What with that and my never being home, chickens weren't an option. But now I'm in the market for three or four hens to provide me with fresh eggs, endless amusement, and reams of chicken poop for the compost heap. 
And while I'm at it, I'm planning to plant some fruit trees out front in my slow but relentless quest to turn my useless front lawn (well, "lawn" is fairly generous; maybe "relatively grassy weed patch" might be more accurate) into productive space. I have a lovely little plan drawn up that involves some fruit trees, an asparagus patch, and some vegetable beds. Whether this plan will survive my winter-fevered imagination remains to be seen, but it's a start.
I've splurged by signing up for curbside recycling at $6 a month. I've been bagging my recyclables and keeping them in the garage until I gathered a bunch to drop off at the recycling station. I noticed, however, that the garage has developed a distinct odor of mouse, who may have been foraging among the bags. So now, it's curbside for me.
I've signed up for Farm Fresh Delivery, a brilliant plan wherein someone brings organic fruits, vegetables, and assorted groceries TO MY DOOR. Every other week, a box will arrive on my porch full of vitamins and color, hopefully  improving my record of eating at home and also saving me some money.
Oh, and there are other plans too. I'm redoing the basement bathroom before Ginny moves in, and I need a new kitchen floor. Before the dog moves in, I'll have to fence off the veggie garden and the compost heap ("It's an invitation to vet bills, Amy.") and figure out how to ensure that Miss Kitty can reach her food and litter box while making sure that Gabby cannot forage among the Kitty crunchies.
Oh the plans I have! 
2009, people! It's going to be a good one!

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Categories: Animals, foreign and domestic, The garden year | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

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