"In this home of the imagination, there is room for both the Sun and Moon. This 4th house nurtures us like a lunar mother, it sustains us like a father Sun. It invites us to sing and dance to its shifting rhythms. It holds that castle where we are king."
-The Fourth House, Dana Gerhardt
It's cold in the Quonset. Not yet dawn, the stars and the moon create just enough light to make the sound of owl calls an eery echo. From the warmth of the futon, pueo called. JOTS is still comfortable curled under the warm lamp. The slant board is no more. We moved it out to make a bit more room in our tiny arched cooking-writing-hanging out hut. The G.Jots (Girl form of Johnnie-On-The-Spot) is a Traveller's familiar. A feline that has moved a thousand miles, a dozen places. Still, she is annoyed, and was just that, when she saw us shuffling things in the Quonset. Three days later she is adjusted and content to sleep on the orange pillow now atop one of the two bright yellow metal folding chairs. A picture would be such a beautiful thing, but we are not yet camera-ready. Our abilities to load photos still stymies us.
A pot of water is working itself into a boil, a supplemental heat source. A metal building with minimal insulation is still a draft tunnel. The Radiant Electric Heater is pumping warmth to the right side of my leg, but my knees are cold. From head to toe I am layered in the clothes that can keep me warm. When I talk with my son I hear the activities of a busy young man preparing for a journey of crossing oceans and cultures. I hear the joy of being with masters of Hawaiian music and Hawaiian healing. He describes the latest change to the retaining wall overlooking our favorite Makapu'u view. I yearn for the warmth of Hawaiian sunshine and the company of music, lilting voices, warm ocean swims.
The boil is on. Steam starts to rise. Pueo has moved on. Yet my knees keep me present. The owl hoots in trees rooted on a big rock island in a Pacific Northwest waterway. I am here, Hawaii is there, and we are on the same planet the pueo, the Quonset, and my Hawaiian memories.
My venture over to Its All Compost is also rooting itself with focus and effort, my writing blog begins to take shape. There are writing and creative projects to warm my need to express life as I find it: two short stories are growing for submission into contests due in mid-March. A dream of producing an audio-recording of my book Wood Crafting is making its way into flesh. There is so much to learn, and with resourceful and adaptive methods Multiple Chemical Sensitivities does not wall off my dreams, but does instead structure my approach with real-life.My first gathering of PRIME THE PUMP an on-line writers group met on Friday, February 18th. We are now 6 writers just begun to get to know one another, sharing the writing stimulated by a single tickle line. The line this week was: "She'd never thought of herself that way before, but ..." Or, the alternate tickle line was "I'd never thought of myself that way before, but ..." The writing was surprising, delightful, powerful, funny. Click on PRIME THE PUMP (above) to read the stories. Join in if you've an itch to write in community.
I miss being here at VardoForTwo, so I've stepped back here because ... I can. It's fun to have options, and with the tinyness of my world where ventures out of the forest are few, it's nice to know I can always come back to home by walking the dozen steps here, and clicking http://www.vardofortwo.blogspot.com/.
It's still winter. We're layered up here in the forest and clean long johns and freshly washed bedding make for comfort and pleasure wrapped in a nice package. Last night one of my dreams had me out in the ocean waiting for the wind to pick up my kite. I guess it was a wind-surfing kite though there was no board to skim the water tops, just me totally immersed in water with my son near by. Never did get up out of the water, but when I woke it was to laughter (mine) as I thanked my lucky stars for giving me a salt water swim without leaving the bed.
A couple hours ago I was on the cellphone to my pal JT who is on a fabulous road trip to sunny places. A wondrous trip. I could hear the sun in her voice, her glee unmistakeable. She and her partner LW are headed for a bead show, and more than that they are sunning themselves and getting the Vitamin D that I must find in a tiny bottle dosed by the drop.
The new year coming up is giving me an infusion of joy. Chatting with JT the Earthy, hearing her relish the company of beaders and potters playing in the sun, I want to be there, too. I'm a deep-water Scorpio with transcendent connections to make lots of lemonade from lemons or funky homes from bits of dream-work and star-dust, but I do love the warmth of the sun. Hawaiians are sun-people after all.
Hearing my friends are thriving on their RV trek from the wetlands of the Pacific Northwest gives me hope: we could trek again in our vardo or in the trusty Subaru which is more aired and off-gassed by the day. Though we are settling here on Whidbey, there is room for short, sweet ventures. All is not struggle and work.
The Year of the Rabbit (or "Hare" as my dear friend Glenda prefers) is a year to catch your breath, and as I've mentioned before 2011 is a "4" Year numerology-wise for the collective and me personally. It's a year of process and hard work. As the Bunny is poised to hop forward, I begin to see where my focus will need to be and prepare to work. There must be time for rest and relaxation or the bunny will be worn and far from a happy, health hare.
Dreams of water, and the voice of sun call me to places where I could refuel and play. Where you will go to refuel and play?
Winter slows things up. I sat at the keys yesterday after a doozie of an 'Ole Cycle (it is not all cruise and chill-out, as I flippantly wrote in my last post) with an idea for a two-part article. Pete was tucked back into the vardo and JOTS tended to herself with no particular interest in blogging. Getting back into the practice of writing on the keyboard takes a bit of retraining. My solitary life sometimes freezes me up with over analysis, and no writing and that can simply defeat the purpose of being alive. I feel the pressure of my the belt move against my belly. Okay, there is life.I spent a chunk of time researching the topic for the article and began the 1st draft.
Some writing, most writing is done over time. Good writing grows with practice, and the technology of blogging and social mobility of the internet would have me(us) believing writing just happens. Well, yes and no. Sitting here this morning, I write to get my fingers moving and my practice in place. Winter does slow things down, and often the illusion that our tiny world lives from the vardo as 'less than____________" can dampen the soul.
The late November ice-skid of an accident with our faithful 'Scout' the Subaru had the old gal in the auto body shop. Pete worked with the repair man to be as careful about the methods of repair: cautioning him to use no chemicals to clean, and to do as much of the body work outside the shop. But after all of his best efforts, the hood and left-front of the car were painted and the VOCs from the job make it a no-go for me. It's been almost three weeks since the car is back to us, and ten days for the work. So the freedom of movement via a car has been slowed down.
I notice the empty limbs of the apple trees and the cherry look bleak in the orchard beyond the wire fence. Their old leaves rot into ground-cover turned over by the kick'n chickens and rooting ducks. The trees don't seem to mind slowing down.
The locals in the area began predicting a hard winter, or a long winter, or a cold winter. The talk started in early fall among the farmers at the Saturday farmer's market. I listened, and knew to pay attention. The birds around the forest were making sure they took every last huckleberry and wild blueberry on the bushes around us. We harvested some, but mostly the fruit was bird food and they would need it I figured.
Our hoses are frozen again ... that would be the second or third time so far this winter. The ducks(all nine of 'em) and our Crowing Hens (all three of 'em) stood at a stand-still this morning. Temperatures had dropped, snow speckled their feeding ground and Pete watched them through the small vardo window. "They don't like it!" Frozen water, no place to swim after the long night and grubbing for food will be tedious. Oh well, they forage on and thanks to Pete the Poultry Man they have plenty of clean straw for bedding, fresh feed morning and night and the big ole rats that harass the ducks for their eggs are regularly thwarted by the tall white haired one with the elf-hat.
The cold temperature irritates my sinuses and I am learning to be on guard for the signals that trigger the migraine. I note them and then I go to work: moisturize my sinuses with saline spray, wear my mask outside to keep my face warm, sip on the Coke. That last one is stretching my willingness to go to any length to care for myself. The high fructose (most likely GMO) corn sugair!!!YIKES. I went looking for an organic cola to replace it ... found it, and then when I got home found it was CAFFEINE FREE. I had a good laugh with that one. It's the caffeine I'm after. Caffeined tea is another 'better' option, but I'm sensitive to black tea because black tea naturally contains FLUORIDE and that'sjust too much cross-firing of the thyroide for me.
Water, water, water signs
So, here I am back at the keys with my thigh warming up in my fleecy sweats next to the heater, JOTS is in her bliss-spot and Pete is working this morning. Nota from Elsa Elsa got me thinking about the nature of water today. My Scorpio-nature is feeling all manner of deep dark stuff and earlier my innate decompression mechanism 'CRYING' kicked in to let some of that 'stuff' out. It works. My Mom, the every transformative PISCES with the ability to let things flow used to tell me to let off steam ... more often. Guess she must have known those long ago years past that she had birthed a steam engine with the need to let go her greatest challenge. Pete is the CANCERIAN man, the third type of Water-sign in the astrological village. He's the one with long-term memory, feeling every thing and caching it away for the long-haul.
With winter setting into itself with freezing water a repeating experience we watery types must be getting an extra bit of 'feel.' Frozen water: frozen feelings. For me, the deep-sea diver and miner of the depths it's no wonder my head goes Migraine when it freezes. All that depth needs to be released or broken pipes.
Why a Three-Rune Day?
Pulling Runes (the stones) helps me ground and warm that watery emotional energy that needs to be released, gently, gently, gently. On most days, one Rune is enough to give me direction, a tip, a voice of counsel. This morning while the sky was still dark, I pulled three Runes to ask for inner counsel. Some times one Rune is not enough. The Runes I pulled came in the order picture above (from top to bottom).
The Rune of Growth, Berkana/Birch. A Rune of new beginnings, health. A Rune long associated with Woman.
In the Book of Runes and the Healing Runes this is the Rune of "Prayer" and "Growth".
I pulled this Rune twice in two days.
The Yew, the Rune of "Turning Point"
ALGIZ, The Rune of Protection, and the Rune of Boundaries
I pulled this Rune just the other day, and posted about it.
I often wonder why I do this ... blog, blog, blog. When I do this (wonder) I know I'm stepping into the freeze of looking out to see who is looking in (at me). I know I'm navigating or trying to navigate others lives. When I thaw-out, chill-out and get down to my innocent and quirky Scorpio Sun with oh-so many aspects of a Capricorn I suspect I blog because Expression is the game I signed up for oh-so many watery moons ago. Long, deep, winding.
"The Douglas XB-42 Mixmaster was an experimental bomber aircraft, designed for a high top speed. The unconventional approach was to mount the two engines within the fuselage driving a pair of contra-rotating propellers mounted at the tail, leaving the wing and fuselage clean and free of drag-inducing protrusions. Two prototype aircraft were built, but the end of World War II changed priorities and the advent of the jet engine gave an alternative way toward achieving high speed."
-both photo and description above are from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Warmth has returned to the Pacific Northwest. "Warmth" being relative, my brother would still shake in disbelief when I tell him it's 40-something and we like it. JOTS is in kitty-land bliss: the slantboard with the lamp on over head. The quonset is warm. Through the leg of my wolly sweats, my thigh is toasty.
Winter is difficult for lots of folks. I've been to twofriends with blogs in different parts of the North American continent to catch up on their lives since these tutu in the vardo have been living their lives. My heart goes out to 'em. We send prayers and soon a little bit of support to help in other ways. The pipes here have unthawed, the hoses run water to our sink and the breezes are blowing through the tall trees. I'm just back from my first stroll since just as Christmas, and I feel good! The migraines have passed, at least for the now and I have experienced more of my real life. If there is some lesson that came from those pre-ecliptic slams on the insides of my head it might be:
keep an open-mind (put don't let your brains fall out!)
reach out (how would I know I could get by with a little help from a Coke?)
amazing grace comes from all sorts of places/spaces (pain being one of them)
Just a few days ago we got a comment from our long-time cyber friend Liberty. She referred to our blog with a tag that I've not recognized as a form of naming. I loved it, and laughed when I saw how you get called what you get called and sometimes it works/sticks or just becomes a plan. She referred to Vardo For Two as V42. Thanks, Libby.
Necessity has long been one of the reasons for invention, in Frank Zappa's case I don't know? Anyway today's post is a meandering thing, like thawing pipes I'm innocent in the flow of things. Being human here on the Island in the Sound with no radio on, and WHAT? It feels like home to me.
Tiles B4 floor
Winter, 2008
White Center, WA.
The V-42
newly topped, tiled and not yet ready to be home
White Center, WA
Winter, 2008
Life here on the Earth is an experience. An experiment? I read somewhere that we are the gift Creator gave to us. What we make of ourselves is what we give to the Creator. Hmm?
Jack Frost and his family are visiting the Pacific Northwest. The single red rose we have smiled at since our arrival is crisp from the freeze ... beautiful still. An ice cake an inch thick, formed on the top of the kitty's water bowl with a decoration of tiny ice trees in a row. Cold air from the North will stick around for several days. Clear skies save for the plumes of sulfur-rich paper mill smoke. Tucked onto the futon with "Ruby" (i have finally named my old lap-top) Mukilteo and Whidbey Island are clear vantage points from the vardo window. JOTS has grow plump and thick-coated during the weeks since our wee home began the road travels from the Ledge. The frost is not her favorite experience so I know she is relishing the pile of warm clothes that is her inside-the-basement cozy spot.
The month of November has been a heavy one. Plenty of endings and passing, lives have passed from the physical to the spirit. Four people ... family members of our friends' who share this Everett with us ... died in November. Our vardo attaches to the energy of the big house, one after another the deaths affected us. Grief is grief, even with the intent to 'take it easy' this emotion is physical and will require expression and avenue of release. Living with multiple chemical sensitivities during this time of grief and passings has been challenging. Practicing setting and maintaining workable physical and emotional boundaries is a daily attempt ... our friends know we love them and must also remain distanced. We are fragile beings at the core of it all, and that is not a weak descriptive I think. Caring for that fragile part of us makes for such strength. We were blessed with days of time with my son who was here for the Thanksgiving holiday. Heart-warming chats with him to learn of his life back on the Island, hearing how he is navigating and shifting at 37 years; hanging out with him eating left-over turkey sandwiches and hot vegetable soup; receiving healing lomi lomi work to break the frozen muscles of toxics and stress.
December began with the planet Uranus going direct after its retrograde. The influence of the icy planet, seventh planet from the Sun, going direct with the full moon (December 1/2, 2009) feels a welcomed relief. I've been studying the charts during the past week and Uranus lit up as a possible clue to my on-going sorting habit as it relates to my life. These posts with the "Astrological Mid-wifery"tags are part of my passionate view of cosmos as reliable translator and one of my classrooms of choice. I'm a student of the art, using it more and more to aid me with these late life births. I celebrated my 62nd birthday in mid-November so I could officially or unofficially be called an old gal. Uranus and the outer planets have lots to say about the way I work, live, play or struggle with these later years.
Here are a few of the tidbits that are inspiring, encouraging, offering me clues to completing the life climb/journey and make the most of the seen and unseendunnage on offer.
Uranus was in retrograde when I was born. Uranus was in your sixth house at the time of birth.
This astrological combination indicates that throughout your existence you will undergo rare organic disturbances which may be caused by a negative reception to environmental influences or by nervous stress.
My mind at work: An MCS marker?
Uranus trine Sun: Hungry for change End of June 2008 until beginning of February 2010
Sometimes it is very upsetting to make fundamental changes in your life. But at other times you feel that change is creative and exciting, and this is one of those times. You are eager for change and hope it will lead you to a life that is more exciting, interesting and alive. You look to new ideas and new experiences for insights that will make your life more real. Consequently this is an excellent time to begin studying disciplines that will allow you to develop and grow as a human being.
My mind at work and mid-wifery in action: This transit began during the summer of building our wee house. In all ways from belief about what home and house means, how we relate to friends, family and strangers, how we make our way in the way, and how we braid, cobble and express ourselves began to change. "Eager for change and hope ..." is what fueled our choice to leave behind the home that had been our souls' dream (we thought). Six months of living on the road, in a car and on the 'run' led us into the influence of Uranus (planet of change, innovation and sudden transformation) upon my Scorpion Sun. This planetary trine continues through the winter ... we will need this influence to balance us especially now that life will require the human collective to live lean, smart and focused.
Neptune trine Uranus: Enlightening experience End of February 2009 until mid December 2010: This influence will expose you to ways of looking at the world that are quite different from any you have known before.
My mind at work and mid-wifery in practice: Stumbling upon this information gives me a clue about the positive influences of the otherwise reality-bending and watery Neptune. Astrology offers many bits of information about the planetary aides or obstacles (Neptune is also squaring Mars during much of this time making the two transits a subtle act of balancing what I want to have with pacing things during a time when my energy will be low).
Uranus square Uranus: On a pivot Mid April 2009 until mid March 2010: This influence signifies the changes that take place as you approach old age… You must realize that the richness of your life does not come only from your achievements in the outer world of business and society, but also from what you know and understand about life
My mind at work and mid-wifery in practice: This bit of information satisfies my growing comfort with become kupuna. "...richness of your life does not come only from ... achievements ...also from what you know and understand about life. Once again Uranus began playing out the old values I have held dear (worthiness, ability to earn, standing in the community, the face with which I bring to the world, the stability of my resources) and everything continues to change. We arrived on the Ledge in April, the world of fantasy and writing combined in a special way on that magical Ledge. My writing was fed through the dark-sky of muse dust. The words weren't mine, the messages drew from all the experiences I have had, known and felt in ancestral language. How that will continue to translate as Uranus pivots will be an exciting, inspired journey. I'm not afraid of the square and in fact welcome the potential of increasing comfort with what I have come to call 'reassembling.'
This post has wandered through a full day. Completing it in the darkness of a cold night, it has been a day of resting, working, walking and putting together a curry stew that ought to be ripe for eating in the very near while. Our friend Doug brought a lovely wreath of greens to our encampment. Pete and I hung it on the back of the wee golden wagon. I hope we are able to get a picture of that on the blog this winter season, it looks like home ... and that, is a nice feeling.
