Loads of spiritual allies

My friend Willow's spending the winter in a small cabin in a muddy field in the Ozarks. She'd like to write a book, and I'd like her to write a book. She needs a desk or a table, and doesn't have one yet, and I sincerely hope that doesn't prevent her from writing her book. Of course, I've got a desk and a table, and I'm not writing a book, so I don't have a leg to stand on, really.

I'm very much hoping that she'll write a book, or something, about how to make a ritual that works, one that counts, that gives the opportunity to each participant to feel empowered. She does this, when she leads rituals, and I've been trying to learn it from her, and I just know it'd be easier if she wrote it all down and I could read it. Easier for me, that is. And maybe easier for her, because then she wouldn't have to suffer fools like me botching up perfectly good rituals. Ok, the opportunity for botching would still be there, but then she could point to the book and say, "do your homework, witch."

I've got something of a reputation here on the farm as some kind of ritual leader, because I go to Spiral Heart's witchcamp every summer, and am something of a ritual addict. I just love standing in a circle, I think that's it. We can all see everyone, and we all have something to contribute and something to discover about ourselves. I really like Reclaiming rituals because of that... audience participation, for lack of a better word. I'm not really into esoteric secrets -- I think I'm too much of a populist for that. I've found that the wisdom of the group, when the group is connected and grounded, is truly greater than any high priest or priestess. I feel like it's the priestess's job to make sure the group is connected and grounded, and beyond that, well, maybe a nudge or two to "go that way," and keep the group on track. As far as the mumble mumble mumble performance, well, that's not so interesting to me. I don't want to be a spectator in a ritual, and my favorite rituals are when there are no spectators. I like it when we're all in the soup together. Being grounded, of course, first.

Anyway, I'm hoping Willow will come up with some words that tell us how to do this, because the default is, watch the priestess. Probably leftover habit from school and church. Blech, I say. Opportunity for mind to take a vacation and go someplace else, out to the woods and fields where there are no spectators, only participants in the great life dance of the world. Spirits and allies of all kinds are just waiting, future dance partners, one after another, why sit still and watch?
okey dokey artichokey,
much love,
Kelpie

Sleep, and cows

Sleep, sleep, sleep. I love to sleep, and finally, it seems, I am getting enough. It's amazing, my body actually stops hurting when I get enough sleep. I actually am in a better mood when I get enough sleep. In my family, sleep is god. We don't wake up sleeping people unless it's necessary. Sleep and food, those two things are god.

So, my low-drama lifestyle has left me devoid of topics today. I'm sure there's controversy somewhere that I'm ignoring, but I'm not going to go looking for it. Not today. Today's just a good day to relax and enjoy. The only suspense I'm carrying is wondering when Beru and Clover will calve, which should be any day now. I went and checked on them last night (and the two nights before) to see how they were, and they were lying down, very pregnant, and very content, in the winter lot. As I walked up to Beru, she gave a long drawn out quiet (for a cow) groan, which, from a cow, means, "hey, what are you doing out here, I really hope you're not going to make me get up," in a friendly sort of way. I didn't make her get up.

Katy, our heifer who just calved, is healthy, and her calf is as cute as a button. Smaller than a big dog, she weighs about 60 pounds, and is a Dutch Belted, which are smaller than Holsteins, which is what we're more used to. Our herd is slowly becoming more Dutch Belted, because we like smaller cows. They're easier on the pasture and on the pocketbook, and are hardier. You can tell during fly season -- the Dutch Belteds don't have flies living on their milk veins they way Holsteins do. Boy, I really dislike flies.

Katy's still not used to being milked, and kicks when she's annoyed with us cleaning her teats, or if the milking machinery is uncomfortable. She doesn't seem to be doing it with the idea of kicking us -- it's more like an irritated swipe than a kick. Still, it doesn't work for milking, so we have to tie a belly rope around her, just above the udder, to keep her tendons from being as useful for kicking. Some folks have been hobbling her back legs together as well, but I've not done that. I guess I could, if she gets worse. Usually heifers get used to the whole rigamarole, and learn not to kick. Katy's still as sweet tempered as always, and acts more like a pet cow than the others. She's a Dutch Belted herself, and cute as a button, also.
okey dokey,
much love,
Kelpie

Wintertime blues

Wintertime at Twin Oaks can be dark and cold. We live outside a great deal of the time, and some of our buildings are drafty. I feel fortunate to live in a warm building with plenty of hot water and a kitchen, but this is not true for the courtyard buildings, especially. The community clothes area works hard to provide warm bedding and clothing for all of us, but the budget's not big enough to provide new things for everyone, and how would you do that, with turnover, anyway? Somehow, everyone manages to keep warm anyway. And there's plenty of food, even in the wintertime, thanks to all the work done in August to put away food, and the hard work that goes into slaughtering and butchering a steer. I enjoy a simple lifestyle, but in the winter, it's more of a challenge.

The commune empties out for Christmas, and then there's the return and more. Soon we'll have many many guests, as the curious and the loved come for New Year's. Keenan and I are responsible for making sure all these people have a place to sleep, as the "Room Assigners," and I hope that we've done an adequate job finding spaces and communicating with hosts. I hope there'll not be any collisions. We don't have any more rooms. We're full to bursting.

I like people, but I must admit to some trepidation. Well-meaning crowds are still crowds, and I get overwhelmed. Fortunately I have my own room, as all Oakers do, and I can escape there. In the winter, when we're all together, I especially grateful for my own room.

I'm glad that Spring's coming, in a few months, and that the winter is generally full of goodwill and love. I can tell that Oakers make a special effort to bring joy to the farm during this time. Last night, for instance, we had a gathering of about 30 in TCLR, with a fire and cookies and eggnog, and we read Dylan Thomas's "A Child's Christmas in Wales." A cosy good time was had by all.
Okey dokey artichokey, much love and light and warmth!
Kelpie

Merry merry at Twin Oaks

Keenan is one of the local incarnations of Santa Claus, and put together a blueberry pancake breakfast at Beechside this morning. There were about 20 people there, eating and making merry, and Rusty brought a ham! The table definitely was groaning: crunchy crust bread, apples, bacon and sausage, three kinds of homemade jam, coffee and two kinds of juice. And Grits! It was a good morning, and afterwards, Keenan and I had to walk around the block to work off some of the calories. Later on, we'll eat some goose that Woody's fixing, up at ZK.

The boys are happily hanging out in Arlo's room, playing new video games. Arlo and Rowan are pretty happy with Santa, too.

Rowan's following in his father's footsteps: he dipped into his allowance and bought a ramen noodles for each Oaker, and put them in everyone's mailboxes, with a tag taped to each saying, "From Rowan." We're pretty proud of him.

Okey dokey, the young lad's wanting the computer, so I must get off,
much love,
Kelpie

Homegrown talent

I'm having a good time listening to mp3's of Twin Oakers at a concert a month ago. Wow, there's a lot of talent here, and Ezra put some of it on the network, so we can listen at leisure. I especially like a trio that's sprung up, with Ez on bass, Keith on drums, and Claire on keyboard. I look forward to hearing more from them. And Edmund playing... what's that horn called? It's curly and maybe is a sousaphone.

Yesterday I was in such a funk, I forgot about listening to Oakers in the Bijou performing Christmas music. I had to sit in my room with a candle and some incense, examining my thoughts, giving my hurts some attention. I was sad because my friend Willow's gone to Missouri for four months and I won't see her until April. And I had planned on going to Waynesboro yesterday also to work for EarthStar, but it didn't happen because there was no car signed out. I should've signed it out, but forgot, and couldn't figure out how to get a car, once I remembered after dinner on Monday night. The vehicles are assigned at dinner the day before for the next day. Sometimes when I forget, someone else signs it out, but that didn't happen this time, so Kyle and I had to stay home. I like that we have a system for sharing vehicles, and I wish I'd been able to get a car when I needed it. I've lived with this system for a long time, and have wondered how to improve it and haven't thought of anything that would work, besides having more cars.

So here it is, Christmas Eve, and my family didn't go to Kansas because there needs to be milkers on the farm. Oddly enough, I don't feel that needed in the dairy, and am somewhat resentful that I'm here. I am earning labor credits, anyway, I tell myself. But I still miss being home.

I read my friend Paxus' blog, and was disappointed I couldn't get to his latest post, because Blogger tells me that page doesn't exist. I've copied what my Dashboard has below. Wonder where the rest is.

complain, complain, complain
Kelpie

Winning Ugly

posted by memeticist at Everyone but the Devil means well - 19 hours ago

Lucifer tells me that the financial crisis in Russia is getting so bad, that nuclear insiders are now thinking that none of the 10 proposed domestic ractor projects are likely to be built. This is not inf...

Bought something!

It's the hard truth of life that to make coffee, one must be awake enough to make it. It takes a certain amount of focused attention to grind the beans and boil the water, and often these attributes are scarce, first thing in the morning. The lure of the dark pungent coffee is all that one can go on.

Winter's here, and we're in the magic time between Solstice and New Year's when we celebrate the return of the Light. I'm attending three Yule rituals this year, two of which I'm helping to organize. And I also celebrate Christmas, because it's a wonderful holiday and I love newborns. Somehow at Christmas, it's easier to see the newborn in everyone.

Rowan and I went to town yesterday and picked out a truly wonderful present for Keenan. We felt quite gleeful afterwords, as we ate our lunch at Panda Garden, and looked out the window at the car which held the glorious present in the trunk. I can't tell you what it is, but I can tell you it's something big, and something he'll use often. Rowan had the idea, which I thought was too big at first, and then realized how perfect the present will be, so we got it.

Okey dokey artichokey,
Much love and light,
Kelpie

Cold!!

We've got crunchy mud here, and it looks like it'll be crunchy for a while. Yesterday, while driving over Afton Mountain, we saw that the fog had frozen on the trees to make a crystal sculpture of dark and light. I saw a little dusting of snow, too, and more on the farther mountaintops, but no snow fell on the Oaks. I like crunchy mud, though, and I think the cows do too. It's easier to walk in than the hoof-sucking squelchy gumbo that forms by the water tanks.

I really like cows. The more I work in the dairy, the more I enjoy it. The crew is great, the cows are great, and the setting is near perfect. I like moving inanimate objects and feeling competent, and then there's the wonderful payoff of the milk. During my initiation preparations, I started offering a glass of milk in thanksgiving, and the practice has suited me and the milk quite well. I've tried to make a list out loud of all that goes into bringing the milk to the glass, in order to properly give my gratitude. I've discovered it's a never ending list. There's the cows, of course, and there's me. There's also the rest of the dairy crew and each person's contribution to the working system, including the past dairy workers. And the land itself, of course, and the water, and the systems that went into making the water come up from the depths so the cows (and me) can drink it. Then there's all the piping and cans and whatnot that keep the milk fresh. And then all that the cows eat: the hay, the grass, the minerals, they've all come from somewhere, constantly and abundantly. Not to mention all the organisms that live in the cow and help digest the food. It's a twice daily miracle, that all that goes through a cow, and then comes out as something me, my family, and my community can drink or eat as cheese, butter, and yogurt. I easily see why cows are holy. Tang, the orange tabby at the barn, feels the same way about the milk as I do. I don't know Tang's theology -- haven't asked.

Come drink our milk whenever you want. There's plenty.
okeydokey artichokey,
Kelpie

The Earth turns, and the sun's coming back

It's important to maintain perspective, at least that's what I've heard. What I think that means is, learn how to look at something from a bunch of different points of view, and there's so many it can be hard to choose one, but don't get stuck in just one. In fact, it's good to have a couple, in case you lose one. Once I was witness to a short back and forth on whether "stuck" was a feeling or not. I've thought about it (from several different perspectives), and I've come to the conclusion that yes, "stuck" is a feeling, and a symptom of losing perspective.

I'm pretty good at not feeling stuck, but it can creep up on me when I'm thinking about something else. Sometimes I can wind myself up in a string of thoughts and can't get out without help. Gack, I hate that when that happens.

All this to say, I went to Staunton yesterday to spend time with friends, go to a Yule ritual, and gain at least one more perspective. I came home happy and content and ready for a nap. I truly love sleep.
okey dokey artichokey,
Kelpie

Dark, dark, dark, and muddy

Must be winter time, all I want to do is play in the snow. Now I have a GREAT new coat to play in, and no snow. Mom and Dad sent me my Christmas present early, and it's got a hood, and it's warm, and CLEAN. There's a lot of all sorts of dirt on a farm, and I seem to attract it (it's my magnetic personality). I have several coats, and now they've all gone down one notch, to make room for my new coat at the top. The other coats are now officially "work coats." That means I can wear them when I hang out with the cows. Cows also have magnetic personalities, and they can get very, very, um, magnetic. I'm glad I've got big rubber boots, with inserts, too.

I can also be warm when I go over Afton Mountain to work with pipes and people, learning how to make people spaces warm. It's ironic that working to make warm spaces inside seems to involve a lot of being cold outside. Or even inside, really! Earthstar's workshop can be cold. It's a big ol' concrete warehouse. I can't wait for summer, hee hee.

The building I live in is so warm that Keenan and I have turned off the heat to our wing. We're downstairs, living right on the concrete slab, and there's thick walls (I want to write, "RF4," but is that right?). The kitchen/dining room has loads of windows on the south side, and the heat just pours in. Then we've got our warm bodies, too, heating up the place. Who needs radiators when we've got all that? We turned a handle on the control board and sent all the heat to those who need it, upstairs. So far, no complaints. We've been doing this for years, and can turn the heat back on if and when we need it.
okey dokey artichokey
much love and warmth and light,
Kelpie

On the run?

I live at a crossroads called Twin Oaks. It's a great place, and the food is terrific. The locals are mostly friendly -- in my time here, only two people have been bitten by copperheads. There's the usual insect pests, but they're mostly just a nuisance. Rot and mold are probably our biggest headaches, along with wiregrass. The people here are great and much the same as the locals.

What bothers me the most is the speed at which the people move, and I mean MOVE. They up and leave with some regularity. We call it turnover, and I call it a nuisance. I live at the crossroads, myself, and I try to be friendly. I hear Americans move a lot, compared to Europeans. Is it all the cars? Is it that some folks started going west and couldn't stop, and now they bounce around? Is it that humans are naturally nomadic?

This holiday season, my family's staying here and not doing the annual grandparent pilgrimage. I like it, and I miss going away, too. I've got the same bounce that the rest of us have, and Mom tells me there's snow in Kansas. I really like snow, now that I live in Virginia, and I'm homesick.

So, here I am, watching the commune empty out, as part of its annual schedule. There'll be a rush back in a week or so, for New Years, and then we'll settle into Winter, truly. Wonder if it'll snow, or if it'll just be mud season for a while.

okeydokey artichokey,
Kelpie

Happy drumming

I have a friend who's an excellent drummer. He's so good, he's infectious. It's pretty hard to not drum when he's drumming, and it's not just me that's saying so. Our weekly drumming circle, "Drumgasm," seems to be catching on, with more and more drummers showing up. It's also attracted dancers. And you know, I can't really tell the difference between drummers and dancers, it all kind of becomes one big groove. Tupelo living room now rocks weekly on Tuesday evenings around 8pm, going until we drop (which seems to be about 10:30). If we get too big for Tupelo, we'll go outside and then we'll drum with the whole world.

Yesterday it was particularly important for me to drum, as I was depressed after getting a speeding ticket from a Waynesboro city cop. I don't mind contributing financially to worthy institutions, but I don't like highway robbery. I was breaking, which the cop couldn't see because he clocked me going the other direction on a two-way street. I was going 40 in a work zone usually posted at 35, but was 25 for the approaching construction. It was just past the sign, and I was coming off the highway. The cop's a jerk, but no more than the system he's working for. I tried to think of a time when a cop helped me out -- any cop, any cop at all -- and I couldn't. I'm sure there's been a time, I just can't think of it, it's not in my mind anywhere. Maybe when I was little? I try to be nice to them anyway. They're the ones with the guns, after all. Apparantly, there are civilized countries where cops don't have guns.

I was in Waynesboro cleaning and fluxing copper pipe for control boards for solar energy heating systems. Earthstar is the name of the biz, and there's a bunch of Oakers interested in solar heating. The work's pretty fun, and reminded me of my brother who's an artist in CA, and made a sculpture out of pipe many years ago that I admired. It's probably still in my parents' back yard. I wish my family didn't live so far from my brother's, but for a day, while cleaning pipe, I was right there with him in his art class at KU.

Okeydokey artichokey,
much love,
Kelpie

Looking at shiny

Arrrrgggghhhh. I've done it again, and left Christmas shopping to the last minute, and am grouchy about it. Where's my personal buyer? Somehow the job didn't get filled. Hmm, could it be I actually don't like buying things? I just don't take to it naturally. I'm kind of un-American that way. I wanted to ship some wine to my parents, but noooooo, one can't do that over the internet, if one's parents live in Kansas. Just as well, I couldn't afford it anyway. Thhhhppppt. I'll have to send them some grapes, and they can do the rest.

Ok, got that out of my system.

Keenan wants me to walk around the block with him, and Rowan says, "have a nice walk," and it's time to get away from the little shiny rectangle and go outside where the air's sweet and the sun is shiny.

okey dokey artichokey,
Kelpie

Cold, locks, moon

It's cold now, it'll be warm later, and the pregnant cows on East Slope will just have to wait for their water until the pipe thaws. I thought about bringing them water in a bucket and my back said, "no." I try to listen to my body, considering that it's been me for some time and will be me for some more time. So far, so good, although I've got back issues. I don't know anyone who doesn't. Young whippersnappers, of course, are still creating their back issues, but they'll catch up, I'm sure. Young whippersnappers usually do. At least I'm not pregnant, nor a cow.

I did a deed yesterday, or a series of deeds, which will result in the rifle cabinet conforming to policy. That darned rifle cabinet has a darned rifle in it (for putting down bovines), and neither Palin nor I care much about it, but other people do, so shuckydarn, I walked around and talked to old farts and now the rifle cabinet can only be opened with a determined person with a crowbar or two other determined people with keys to two locks -- that is, it takes the two of them to unlock it. You'd be surprised how much trouble can be caused by shouting in the dining hall, especially when those who shout can also write O&I papers. But, for all of you who were alarmed by the thought of our butcher having sole access to the rifle, well, now co doesn't. You may sleep in your beds now without fear.

I like sleep. I've been sleeping quite well, despite the moon being brighter than ever, according to my mom and Kyle, who I believe. Some people see a man in the moon. Some people see their future. I'm in the rabbit club, myself. Somehow, don't remember how, I heard there's a rabbit in the moon, maybe jumping over a bush. Sure enough, I can always find the rabbit. I've never really understood the man in the moon.

Okeydokey artichokey,
much love,
Kelpie

I want to drive a new car

Brrr, it's so cold, the dog dish is frozen halfway through. Wonder what the pond is doing, and my bucket pond, too.

I made a garden, of sorts, for my Reclaiming initiation, and I sunk a bucket in a low spot, and put gold fish in it. Zadek and Luuk really like helping me feed the fish. We get dog food and crush it so the fish can eat it. It's a miniature permaculture altar garden. In fact, most people just call it an altar, instead of a garden. My gardening skills are yet to be developed.

You may be wondering about Eve-the-cow. The dairy crew's giving up on barn training her, and will try again next month. It's a bit odd having cows named after goddesses. We also have Ixchel, Lilith, and Demeter. We used to have a Jersey named Kali, a very long time ago.

We also have a member named Eve. Eve's the official administrative person for our vehicle fleet. It could be that she's the auto manager. She's the one who registers our cars. We have a new car now, a silver Subaru, that needs a name before it can be registered. We had a naming party, but the resulting name was offensive; apparantly 10 people complained, and now what? Who knows? The car is lovely, and sits waiting. The offensive name: "Darth Dingo." I think it could be called "No Name," but that would probably be offensive, too.

Okey dokey,
much love,
Kelpie

Wow, I had a time of it with Eve-the-cow this morning! Omigosh, a heifer with two things on her mind in this order: 1) Eat Food 2)Do Not Enter The Barn. We're barn-training her, which means, teaching her to walk into the barn. You'd think that would be easy. It often is. With Eve-the-cow, it is not. She consented to walk to the top step of the in-ramp to stick her nose and flare her nostrils in the barn, but to actually set foot in the barn was not something she was willing to do. She was more than happy to back up down the ramp, several times, after being lured to the top, several times, with grain. Ei, ei, ei. A particular sort of cow. A lovely wonderful cow, who someday will walk happily into the barn and eat grain. Maybe next week.

Eve-the-cow aside, I had a great time on my shift, and will go back for more this evening. I'm happy I have FOUR shifts next week! Hurray! Sadly, one of the other milkers had to cancel out of her shifts next week, and the truly great labor assigner gave me her shifts! Hurray! Thanks Elspeth! And I got a stretcher thingie with Kyle too, hurray! Slooowly but surely, I'll get out of the labor mess I'm in, and be a "member in good standing" once again. It seems there's a happy conspiracy to give me work! I feel very fortunate indeed, and can only hope that this sort of thing will spread.

Okey dokey, I've promised the 'puter to my offspring,
much love,
Kelpie

Brrr!

Home from Florida, after a long and somewhat painful road trip. We seem to be settling back in well. At one point, I had decided not to go on our annual Thanksgiving trip to see Keenan's relatives, due to my negative labor balance, and then I decided I should go after all. I'm glad I made that decision, as I doubt I could have worked as much as I would've liked, with my family gone, but now I really have to buckle down!

It's cold here, in Virginia. There's frost in the morning, and I'm sure that when I milk tomorrow, I'll have to deal with frozen hoses. We fill up the tanks for the cows, and when it's freezing, it's more difficult. I'll probably want to make a fire in the woodstove in the barn, also, to keep me warm. Not like Florida at all!!

Apparently, because our cows are grass fed, the milk that we drink is of higher quality, and just chock full of vitamins. The farm definitely drinks as much as we produce!! These days, it's not as plentiful as in the spring, when there's more grass, but we still have enough to provide two cans of drinking milk each day. The rest is made into cheese.

okey dokey artichokey,
much love,
Kelpie

More food, and more food

At least the streets are empty! I've been stuffed for days, ever since we got in the car to come south, it seems. I seem to put things in my mouth when I'm nervous -- food, drink, party favors, etc. And lately, food's been at the top of the list. Learning how to relax while keeping focussed is rather difficult, especially when travelling. Any kind of regular schedule I had while at home gets thrown off-kilter. Oh well, that's the way it goes.

The strangest thing about this part of Florida is that I have seen hardly any insects. I know they're out there, they always are, but WHERE? Did they all get sprayed to death? It's too strange, really. I did see some ant hills, and one very lonely mosquito. I feel like I need to just sit in Hammock Park and wait for some bugs to come by. What are the birds eating, I wonder.

"Hammock," by the way, does not refer to the slingable bed that hangs between supports. It's a geographical feature, that means a piece of land that can support hardwood trees. There are some glorious hardwoods in the park, and me and the boys had fun trying to identify them. My inlaws live on a hammock, with most of the trees cut down for houses. I don't know how most of this land is drained -- there seem to be canals and pumps everywhere.

We went to Honeymoon Island yesterday, for the second time, and saw: an armadillo (hurray!),
a nesting pair of bald eagles, lots of ospreys, and a mated pair of great horned owls. Oh yes, and some ants. We were walking quickly, very focussed on finding the eagles, and so I didn't have a chance to look for much else.

okey dokey artichokey,
much love,
Kelpie

Here I am in Dunedin, FL, at my in-laws'. The boys and I are staying in a cute efficiency down by the harbor, and more relatives are pouring in from the north. It's the annual pilgrimage of the McGehees, and I'm happy to be a part of it. There's a bit of culture shock -- the car culture is not something I'm particularly fond of, and I had a difficult time in the Publix, trying to figure out what my family would want to eat, and where on earth do they keep those things in the store. In some ways, life at Twin Oaks is much more simple, and going away for bit reminds me why I moved to Twin Oaks in the first place.

One of my most favorite activities so far has been walking through Hammock Park, which is an enormous green acreage to the west of downtown. It was good to be outside, exploring the trails and trying to figure out the different plants. Arlo picked a handful of purple-red berries, in the hopes of finding out what they are. We'd seen a picture of them at the nature center, at Honeymoon Island State Park.

Okey dokey, more later,
much love,
Kelpie

Made It! And Over!!

Hurray! I counted up my labor sheet yesterday, and I was over quota by... well, I made 49 lovely labor credits. And I turned my sheet in before the deadline, so I'll get an extra 2.5 for that. I'm glad I made such a lovely sum before going on a long trip where labor credits are few and hard to come by. The disadvantages of the amazing Twin Oaks labor system sometimes overwhelms the advantages. And vice versa, I am sure.

Before I started my labor credit endeavor, I was pretty unhappy about it, which made things worse. I loafed, frankly, and wallowed, and sometimes I cried. I got lots of encouragement and hugs and everyone seemed to love me more than I thought I deserved. Interesting, that, eh? The people of Twin Oaks are pretty amazing. I'm lucky in a variety of ways, and a lot of them seem to be the direct result of living with terrific people. A lot of terrific people. Sometimes there are so many terrific people, I get, well, not terrified, but overwhelmed. I haven't entirely discovered a pattern. It seems, at least, that I've broken out of the wallowing.

We're off, the nuclear family in which I am called "Mom." We're off to Florida to visit relatives, and we'll be home sometime, in a week or so. I doubt I'll have access to this blog, so until then, be well.
much love,
Kelpie

Cow Talk

Milked a buncha cows this morning. Five of them: Butternut, Wendy, Nygelia, Chicory, and Andromeda. And I didn't milk three heifers: Delta, Demeter, and Lilith. Together, they're a herd. Herda cows. Actually, they're mostly Holstein, and some Dutch Belted thrown in there, and Bnut has some Jersey. I'll milk two of them this evening: Bnut and Andromeda. I like cows.

I went out after my milking and did a head count of the pregnant-or-waiting cow herd (known to us as the "Preggie Herd"), on the East Slope pasture. I found five of them down on the far paddock, and three of them on the hay feeder. Ok, they weren't really on the hay feeder; they were beside the hay feeder, and sometimes they stick their heads in the hay feeder. I've never actually seen a cow on a hay feeder, although I've seen a calf in a hay feeder. It's really hard to get a calf out of a hay feeder. I try not to do it.

I'm glad it's a fairly cold morning, because there are no flies. I really don't like flies. I know, I know, not all flies are the same, and there are helpful, useful flies, but frankly, I don't know them. Ok, there's those little flies that pollinate figs. I like figs. Oops, those are wasps. I like wasps. Back in the day, when I was studying insects, I never could get over my prejudice against flies, but I did manage to eat a bunch of wasp larvae (sauteed in oil, lightly spiced) and so developed a fondness for them. All wasps, pretty much. But no flies. I will never eat flies. Flies kind of bug me.

Anyway, Summer and the baby seem to be happy and healthy and they're both female, and the smaller one has a lot of hair! Cute as a button, and born about 7:15 yesterday evening. Blessed be. We're all pretty happy.
much love,
Kelpie

Waiting for a baby

Surely this baby will be born soon, they've been working at it for quite a while now. I'm glad I'm done having my babies!! Summer's been working hard for quite some time now, and the rest of us are all eagerly waiting. Wonder what the baby will be like.

I can't remember how many labor credits I earned today... um, quick guess says... four and a half or five, so far. It's late afternoon, and the sun's making my favorite kind of light, reddish and orangish. I'm happy with our atmosphere, although I understand it used to be different, and maybe back in the day, the light would be bluer? Don't know.

Summer's baby will be the... hmmm... fifth baby born in this building since it was built. Five, and the building's about as old as Rowan, who's 12. Every now and then someone comes down and tells us what the latest news is, and it's hard to sit at the computer. I want to go and do something useful. When Adrian was being born, Simone and I were listening downstairs and twiddling our thumbs, and we finally decided to go pick flowers. We came back with a lovely bunch and gave them to the baby, who'd been born while we were gone. It doesn't take long to pick flowers when you have two people -- that was a very fast and efficient birth!
Okey dokey artichokey, much love,
Kelpie

Working is working!

Hurray! I seem to be changing my lazy butt habits fairly easily. That gives me hope for the future. I'm off to Florida for our annual pilgrimage, and I'll come back and get that contract and stick to it, by golly. There'll be no public lynching for Kelpie, no sirree. I hate that when that happens.

To be honest, it never has happened. I've certainly been the object of public scrutiny before, and it's not pleasant, but I've gotten more used to it over the years. When I first got to Twin Oaks, it seemed like everyone was looking at me, and they were!! And it's happened every now and then that I get a little more attention than I feel comfortable with. Mostly, though, I move through the world with ease and grace. Lucky me!

What I really hate is watching a public lynching. I'm not so in tune with the people world around me, and sometimes it happens without me being able to head it off in any way, and sometimes I participate in the hanging.

I want to make it clear here that we do not murder people at Twin Oaks, (sometimes my metaphors are taken literally), but we do banish folks occasionally, and sometimes not so gracefully. I always hope that the person finds healing when that happens. Living at Twin Oaks can be very painful, and sometimes the pain gets to be so big it envelops us, and the person must leave. We call it "drama," here, and I prefer to keep my drama corralled. I'm sure drama happens in every community.
much love,
Kelpie

Sleep is a beautiful thing

I did make quota yesterday, hurray! And drummed, too. All on four hours of sleep the night before, after a wicked bout of insomnia. Then slept for another four hours, after drumming, and woke up early. I've been up for hours, and it's only 7:13am. I did get a little cleaning done, and my daily spiritual practice (which, if you were wondering, does not require a group).

So, one of my high pressure jobs is being on the Membership Team, of Twin Oaks, which is basically yet another committee (the whole place is run by committees, it's amazing). As part of our process of defining membership, (in explicit detail, if necessary), we have a long interview. And as part of that long interview, there is a long list of questions. And somewhere in the middle of that long list of questions, is the question, "Do you have a spiritual practice that requires a group?"

I always think of that question as the anti-guru security question. So, all you guru-wannabes: the correct answer to that question is, "No." In the long, long years of my time serving on the illustrious Community Membership Team, there has never ever been anyone who has said, "Yes." At this point, I sort of wish someone would say, "Yes."

And, glory be, I actually saw both of my children yesterday, as well as Keenan. It was a good day. And hey it snowed a tiny bit in the night! Like powdered sugar on brownies (ok, green brownies, with leaves under the sugar).
much love,
Kelpie

Pity me or feel my pain

Ok, it's 2:33 in the morning, and I can't sleep. I've tried. I'll try again. I don't give up on something like sleep.

I feel ill. My stomach is queasy and my head hurts, and I just want to be asleep. I love sleep.

I have to be at the dairy barn to milk cows in five hours, after which I will take care of two children along with a new member, Mushroom. I realize I can ask Mushroom to take care of Kharma and Luuk by herself, and she'll do it, she's a very capable young woman. And I may not be the most fun to hang out with tomorrow, after milking, depending on how much sleep I get.

I did make quota yesterday. I did. Hurray for me. I didn't really see my family much, but I did work. Do I get a gold star?

Ok, I shall make another valient attempt.
much love,
Kelpie

Learning to Manage Myself

Yesterday was a hard day. I was sick most of the day, fighting off a migraine, which finally left while I was in a meeting in the late afternoon, as a front went through and the barometric pressure gave me a break. I had to find someone to do my K-II (after lunch clean up at the dining hall), which was easy, except on my pride.

I do not like being sick one bit, and the migraine is like a scary beast which reaches its hands out of the sky and squeezes my head and stomach. It becomes difficult to do anything but pay attention to it! For a person who struggles with focus, it's a good teacher, but can be a fierce one. I was almost giddy when it went away, (and definitely shaky), and so grateful. I had been blaming the illness on a cheap beer I had the night before, because it had the same symptoms as a hangover, and I felt life was unfair. I'd only had one cheap beer! In retrospect, I was vulnerable because I was dehydrated, and then the Barometric Pressure Monster (BPM) had a chance to whop me, so it did.

I still love the movie "Princess Mononoke," which I treated myself to watching, again, this time in English. There's a scene at the end, where the Forest God, or Deer God, is searching for its head, and is like a large heavy storm cloud over the forest, with tornado arms reaching down. It's a very powerful image for someone who still occasionally dreams about tornadoes. I've felt that power, intimately, in my core. And am not convinced that the BPM isn't a symptom, somehow, of the Deer God who's lost his head. But really, it's me who has to pay attention to my own head.

much love,
Kelpie

Feeling sorry for myself

I've tried to figure out just how long I would be on a labor contract. By policy, I would need to make over 15 extra labor credits per month, which would mean my own labor quota would be about 4 hours more than normal. In theory, that should not be difficult, and if I get a pattern going, I can do much better than that. But at minimum, I believe I'll be on a contract for 13 months. A little over a year and a day.

I can live with that. What I might not be able to live with is the stipulation that I must not be in the labor hole for two months -- it's gotta be two consecutive months, and I'll find out for sure. That's bothering me, although it probably won't be a big deal. I need to go to Witchcamp!!! And also there'll be other sorts of things during the year, too.

I'll need to change various habits: the habit of getting up late, and getting out late. I'll need to jump out of bed at 7, for example (like I did today), and not spend so much time socializing with folks in the morning. I'll miss that, as I love my housemates, one of which is three years old and cute as a button even when he's being wretched.

I'll need to cut my naps short, or not take them. And I'll need to work in the evenings, too.

And, sob, I'll probably need to cut back on other non-labor creditable activities, like, ack, pagan ritual. I wonder how I'll do that -- I sort of feel obligated on a certain level to priestess these things. Maybe I'll have to just limit myself to priestessing at Twin Oaks (where I can take labor credits under "holiday.") and the occasional rare instance off the farm. Waaa. That will be difficult.

And, another sob, I'll have to figure out how to curtail my other non-labor creditable activities which are just as fun and important... grrr. I'm not a partier in a big way, but the little I do is important. And I absolutely refuse to give up drumming. I'll figure something out.

If I become a grouch during the time of my labor contract, well, someone provide sympathy at least, so it's not a permanent condition. I've seen people when they're changing their habits, and they are often not cheery about it. At least I don't smoke. Things could be oh so much worse.

Given a choice, I'd rather become grouchy than boring. Consider this fair warning. I'll do my best to be entertaining, but I realize this post and yesterdays are not as funny. I'll get my groove on again, I promise. Probably when the sun comes out again. It's been rainy and dark, and it's a truly dedicated person who can be entertaining when it's rainy and dark.
much love,
Kelpie

Insecurities and Musings

Today is gray and raining. And I spent a very minimal amount of time in the hammock shop, contributing both to the hammocks quota for the community, and to my own labor balance. I did intend to go again after lunch, and instead slept for three hours, and spent time with my family and online. So, it's another day of digging the hole.

I know how to make hammocks. I'm really good at it, actually. And I enjoy it, as well. It can be physically tiring, and I've made so many in a row that I started to have carpal tunnel symptoms, but for the most part, I've found it to be pleasant work. So why I choose to spend an afternoon in other pursuits is a good question, and one I'll need to answer if I'm going to change my habits.

I love sleep.

So, sleep has been good to me. Unfortunately, it doesn't get me labor credits.

In the Twin Oaks labor system, we have scheduled work and unscheduled work. Missing a work shift is a rarity for me, as I know people are counting on me. But my shifts don't add up to quota, and I'm expected to find work to fill in the gaps. Somehow, I don't. That's the main thing that has to change, I think. Sometimes I wish I had a 9 to 5 job, but I'm sure there would be other problems, if that were the case.

No, what I need is an attitude change, and a schedule that doesn't have big blanks in it.
much love,
Kelpie

How DID I get into this mess?

Sigh. I can come up with all sorts of reasons, but of course, the basic reason is, I went away too much and I don't work enough when I'm here. But that's not so interesting, is it, so here's a story:

Two summers ago, I quit my job, such as it was. Twin Oakers are a slippery bunch, and most folks have several jobs, and no one has a "9 to 5." We work mostly in teams, which is fun. But sometimes it doesn't work, of course, and my team just went kaput in the summer of '07. I was the manager of the hammocks office, and my job description just got longer and longer and longer, and my team up and left for more pleasant atmospheres. The clincher was when four (if memory serves me) office workers quit in the same week. Not my fault (heh). They left the community. It was the summer of our discontent.

There was a huge controversy, surrounding the membership of a young person, and the waves of negativity grew and grew until they swamped the already leaky boat of the hammocks office, and boy howdy, I went down. My friend Mala said, "my friend Kristen is much more important than this job," and I cried and quit.

In a responsible as possible way, of course. I trained people to carry on, and got out of the chaos and left it to folks with more nerves of steel than I had.

But that left me with half as much work. I'd worked in that office since I moved here (I've lived here since '91), and didn't have much else going on. It's actually to my credit, and the wondrous labor system's credit, that it's taken a year and a half for me to run out of jobs. It's time, really, to find a new niche.

But how to do that when I'm 44? At a hippie commune where most of the work is physical, and most of the people are in their twenties? I feel a bit... hmmm... out of place. And I'm not the spring chicken I used to be, although I still can cluck and lay an egg every so often.

How big's my problem? Weeeel now. Funny you should ask. Um. Embarrassingly big. Um, I'm looking at a hole about 200 hours deep. Yowza. Not there yet, but I'm heading there. What you are witnessing now is the anxiety of a person falling out of an airplane who suddenly sees the ground rushing up.

Sooo... something'll happen. Wonder what it will be. Hence the blog -- if life is painful, take the pain and do something useful with it. At the very least, be entertaining, even if it's only to yourself.
much love,
Kelpie

In the Labor Hole

It's kind of scary for me to write about, which is why I'm writing about it. I'm in the labor hole, and will go further in before heading out. The "labor hole" is how many labor credits I owe to Twin Oaks. Each week, we're "charged" whatever the labor quota is (this week it's 44.8 hours), and each week the number of hours of work we did is entered into our balance. Whoops, I'm way behind, and am planning on making a contract in December with the labor manager, who's a housemate and friend of mine.

It's scary, not in a very big way -- no phone calls or harrassments, and it doesn't affect my credit rating! The terms of the labor contract is set by policy. I must work an extra 15 hours per month, in labor creditable areas, until I'm out of the hole. If I violate this policy, by not meeting it for two months (not sure if those have to be consecutive or not), there's a list of consequences, the most painful of which is a non-binding membership poll. That means everybody at Twin Oaks has the opportunity in the form of a ballot, to say, "accept," "reject" or "feedback." I'm not entirely sure what the choices are, because it's so rarely ever used.

I hate the idea of everyone in the community having this opportunity, although it would be interesting to find out what people would think, and it would be better than paranoid wondering (which I indulge in all too frequently).

So, I gotta find some work and some motivation. The latter is more important (hence the whole policy). Fortunately my buddy Keith is needing help on a project of his, involving solar panels. I have no experience at all, although I do know the names and uses of some basic tools... Can an old dog learn new tricks? This one has to.

How did I get in this fix? I'll let that be tomorrow's exciting installment.
much love,
Kelpie

First entry!

Well, I've been considering starting a blog for years, and maybe this is it! I like the idea, and I feel the need to start a(nother) journal, and the potential for an audience might be enough motivation to keep me going! Only one way to find out!

The first hurdle, really, was coming up with a name. I'm pretty good at coming up with names, so this one "Living Out Loud," popped into my head without much ado. Again, I like the idea, and am not sure of how committed I am to baring my soul online, but I've found it's a good way to talk to myself, and if baring my soul to others is the only way I can do so for myself, well, so be it. And thank you for reading! I'll try to not be boring.

With that promise, I find that I need to close.
much love,
Kelpie