simple living

The Well is Almost Dry in Every Sense of the Word

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In memory of Dolly (Photo by M.A.D.)

When I set out to write this blog, many years ago, definitely more than a decade ago, I wanted to write about my journey as an indie author, my journey from the Jersey shore to the Virginia countryside, and my journey fixing up a dilapidated farmhouse. Today, I am writing about all of this and my view/feelings about it.

It has been a very dry year; the Southside is still under severe drought, a step down from extreme drought. Other counties have seen rain and with it some relief; however, Southside VA has seen a few drops here and there. The clouds roll, the thunder roars, the wind follows, but the rain never falls. My water well has seen the effects of the low or already dry creeks around here. Months ago, an older Amish man mentioned to me that his son was having trouble with the well that was used for the cows. It has become drier since then. The garden is very dry, and we hardly had any blooms this year; some plants died, as these cannot be watered properly. Last year, I collected a wheelbarrow of grapes; this year, only a bowl.

This year’s grapes (photo by M.A.D.)

The drought started officially last autumn, but this writer’s inkwell has been drying for a while now, as far as my work in progress goes. Yes, as far as my novels, I cannot seem to unlock the gate that will let the flood through, and although I have plenty of ideas for other novels, it is the current work in progress that has become stale. I am not sure why and neither do I have a logical explanation that will appease my soul, other than I have realized and come to terms in accepting my dislike and disdain for Amazon, which is my only platform for publishing at the moment. I believe that it has deteriorated and degraded in a way that is plain and simple disrespectful not only to the craft, but to the millions of serious authors who trusted it with their works from the beginning. The gatekeeper failed writers, or maybe it was set up to “fail for profit” since the start. AI only adds another layer to the madness and chaos.

My love of writing has not been altered; only the venue to bring it to life has, and until I make peace with it, or step away to embrace another venue, I don’t know if my current work will see the light soon. I don’t even know if it will make a difference, after all, Amazon is still the number one venue for independent authors, even when more and more indie writers are leaving this venue. As of today, I don’t have an answer; time will tell. I will tend to my writing, as if it was my secret garden, even if I don’t decide to publish right away.

My love affair with this old farmhouse continues, and we (my husband and I) continue to make it better year after year, following the initial vision we had for it, but also making adjustments to the plan as needed. For example, converting part of the downstairs into a bedroom, a necessary endeavor after realizing that the stairs were too steep and difficult to climb when I injured my knee last year. It will be needed in the future as well, that is, if we age in place. Other important issues have derailed some of the work, such as an almost-dry water well, and the need to hook up to public town water in the near future, as well as new neighbors who do not understand private property boundaries, and continue to use part of our property as a football field, central park, or a parking lot, which has prompted the need to install a fence due to obvious liability reasons, making this, another big ticket item that has derailed the previous plans. The downstairs bedroom will be finished this coming weekend. On a positive note, all this increases real estate value. A time for everything and everything in its time seems to be my motto now. Either or, I will be glad to welcome a very wet and stormy autumn if we are blessed with it.

As far as this blog, it will continue its initial purpose, but also, it has become a very dear part of my journey, and a priceless way to connect with the rest of humanity. Human connection is one of the most beautiful gifts from God, and so is creativity. I will end this post with a few pictures I took this summer, moments that captured my attention for a bit.

Baby deer has grown quickly. He was born near the blue shed (Photo by M.A.D)
Mama deer teamed up with another mom, and both are raising their babies together. I guess it is a smart way to assure that either baby is safe or taken care if something happens to either one of the mothers. (Photo by M.A.D.)
Marigolds were the only flowers that bloomed in large quantity and were definitely a lifesaver for butterflies. (Photo by M.A.D.)
I decided to move the hummingbird feeder to the porch, and now humans and felines can enjoy the show. Also, it keeps the nectar a bit cooler. (photo by M.A.D.)
Always very happy to see one of these around – stik bug (Photo by M.A.D.)
And one of these as well (Photo by M.A.D.)
The old farmhouse today, and a work in progress (photo by M.A.D.)

Love and Light

Reduced to Your Possessions

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When I decided to live in a more present and simpler way, one of the effects that happened almost as a natural reaction was for me to rid of excess in my life, material and other. After evaluating much of my life in a systemic way, I started to let go of stuff first, and eventually, of every other thing that did not fell into balance with my life’s systems. Stuff was a significant area for me, years of accumulation, of excess. This act of letting go opened my eyes to many areas, and I became aware of how possessions dictate on one’s way of living, how people identify with their possessions, and ultimately, how one’s identity can be reduced to one’s possessions, by ourselves and by the perception of others as well. Our living is reduced to maintaining such possessions, and in a way, the stuff that was supposed to enhance living, ends up diminishing it.

I remember attending a funeral when I was much younger, and as I approached the widow to give her my condolences, I decided to wait aside until she finished her conversation with a couple. Without intention, I overheard the man asking this grieving widow how much she wanted for her late husband’s car. Obviously, it was not the time and place to ask that question. This scene stayed in my mind until today. It made me realized how people see other people after death, and how inconsiderate a person who is materially oriented can become. On a more recent observation of human behavior, I observed how a man who owned many vehicles was reduced to his possessions after he died. The next day, there were many takers looking to buy his vehicles. One of them, even checking out a motorcycle during the family service which was at the home of the deceased. This reminded me of the first incident that happened many years ago, its similarity, and made me think of how I would like to be remembered when I go to meet my maker. I am sure that most of us have heard stories about family feuds after a patriarch or matriarch dies, and of siblings fighting for an inheritance and relationships being broken for the same reasons. It happens in the closest of families.

I am not a minimalist, and I can appreciate beautiful things, but I don’t want my identity to be based on stuff, neither how other people might remember me by. When we approach the relation to our possessions as stewards of the material blessings we receive instead of owners or collectors, we become more grateful, but also more generous. We also learn to see people for their true essence and not their status or material abundance, and as a default, we end up having better human to human interactions once we remove the material filter.

A Robin’s Tale

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Robin (Photo by M.A.D.)

Since childhood, we are conditioned to see things as useful, utilitarian, and with a purpose. We learn it from our parents, at school, and later on, from all the messages we receive from society. The messages tell us that things must have a purpose, a use, to be valuable. We learn to equate utility with value, and eventually, with how good or bad things are. It is a subtle message, one that can hardly be spotted in our minds, in the way we view and judge things/people/life.

The robins are back, a sign that the lovely weather of spring days will soon arrive. Although they have their place in nature, it is not obvious to me how they impact an environment. At first glance, they might not seem “useful” at all, but for me, it is a sight that besides beauty, it brings me joy, peace, and relaxation. For me, they are valuable. Things don’t have to always be useful to be valuable. The mere existence of those pudgy birds is enough. God made them perfect.

Sometimes, we judge ourselves, we measure ourselves with the same ruler. We judge our value according to how “useful” we are, to how much we do in a day, how successful we are in life, how much money or possessions we have, or not. We go a step further and we compare ourselves to other people, whom we also judge, and we mentally and emotionally assign ourselves a “place” in the timeline of success. We think that we are in a lesser position than we should be, or that we are not enough according to those imaginary standards.

The same God who created the robins created us with value to Him. As part of His magnificent and perfect creation we have a valuable place in it, whether we see it or not. Maybe if we can accept our being, the immense value we have to our Creator, we might not be so harsh unto ourselves, and maybe, we will start seeing ourselves and our brothers and sisters with the loving eyes of our Creator, who is the perfect source of it all, including us, and the robins.

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful; I know that full well.”

Psalm 139:14

The Golden Man

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Here’s a little October poem, The Golden Man.

Fail and flail,

the madman on the golden throne.

Dreams of golden nuggets, of crowns, and crones.

Pumpkins (Photo by M.A.D.)

Lost and Found

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Photo by M.A.D.

She stared at me, her semblance a bit familiar. She seemed a bit tired, a gaze serious enough for me to notice her. Her features spoke to me of olden days, her faint smile, of recognition. A kin allure of something once shared. I studied her face. She glanced back, truth or dare. Not until I journeyed deep into her eyes, did I truly see the woman in the mirror.

Reflections: One Day at a Time, One Step at a Time

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Photo by M.A.D

One day at a time, one step at a time.

Life would be much more pleasant if we would live in that way. This is a lesson I learned later in life. In my younger years, multitasking and the idea of a “superwoman” who thrived on a crammed schedule and did everything to perfection was idealized. Many of us, gender aside, followed that way of living in our everyday interaction. I remember feeling “guilty” if I had “free time” to myself and even worrying that I were to become lazy if I indulged on even an hour of “unproductive” being. The years passed by, and I had become entrapped in one of the biggest lies Society sold me. When I think about it, that way of life was very materialistic in essence, even when I never saw myself as a materialistic person, on the contrary.

Today, I repeated this question, what is truly important to me? Throughout the years, the answer has been narrowed to include the issues at the core of my true values and loves. Today, I finally understand the meaning of living one day at a time, one step at a time, and from that realization, a sense of peace within that recognizes that life is not a race, and I don’t need trophies or crowns to validate my existence; God has already done so when He made me. It is beautiful to achieve dreams and to celebrate our achievements and of others as well, but not at the expense of living. The mere existence of achieving without the joy and beauty of living is contraindicating. Maybe Hans Christian Anderson understood this well.

“Just living is not enough, said the butterfly, one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.” Hans Christian Anderson

Love and Light

Love

/ inkspeare
After almost 38 years of marriage, I still keep his first gift. (Photo by M.A.D.)

Love is all kinds of things to all kind of people, but one thing love is to all – it is the only thing left when there is nothing else, and the only thing you have to give when there is nothing left at all.

Wishing you all a Happy Valentines Day!

A Magical Morning

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Morning Glory (photo by M.A.D.)

I like to walk very early in the morning. The temperature is cool and there is certainly a calmness around. I do my walking in town. The country road I live in might not be the ideal place to take a walk that early. Cars fly by and on many occasions my hair has been blown back by the wind left by a fast-passing car, too close for comfort. Main Street is quiet early in the morning. Businesses are still closed, and people are just about ready to start the day. I encounter a few runners or people walking their dogs. There are few cars heading to the daily destination. I mostly hear birds singing and the noise of a few other summer critters. By the time I am done with my exercise, something magical happens, as if taken from a final scene of “The Langoliers (Stephen King).” The town starts waking up. Soon there are more cars on the road, and the noise level starts rising slowly. Businesses start opening their doors, and employees arrive. People chat briefly on the street. Slowly, the town awakens to another day. As if by magic, the town is alive. There is something sweet and beautiful about that moment, the blessing of another day.