Randerson Cares provides Caregiver Support along with the development & Implementation of Elder Care Plans that "Simplify Your Life's Complications". As a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, Certified Geriatric Care Manager and Ordained Spiritual Counselor along with my Juris Doctorate, I will provide you with a holistic plan to take care of your loved one or help you develop a plan that is geared to your own aging needs. Short or long-term support available and private insurance and Medicare reimbursement eligible.
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Donna Henes is an internationally renowned urban shaman, award-winning author, popular speaker and workshop leader whose joyful celebrations of celestial events have introduced ancient traditional rituals and contemporary ceremonies to millions of people in more than 100 cities since 1972. She has published four books, a CD, an acclaimed quarterly journal and currently writes for the Huffington Post, Beliefnet and UPI (United Press International) Religion and Spirituality Forum. She has created and officiated public ceremonies for two mayors and a governor and serves as the ritual consultant on Hollywood films. Mama Donna, as she is affectionately called, maintains a ceremonial center, spirit shop, ritual practice and consultancy in Exotic Brooklyn, NY where she offers intuitive tarot readings and spiritual counseling and works with individuals, groups, institutions, municipalities and corporations to create meaningful ceremonies for every imaginable occasion.
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The transition from Maiden and Mother to Queen can be a difficult one, fraught with hard lessons and lots of loss. It takes great determination and courage to confront and embrace the changes brought about by the midlife passage.
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I recently received a call from one of my Midlife Midwife™ counseling clients. She had been divorced for quite some time and this autumn both of her teenaged kids left home for school and work. So now she found herself on her own after 25 years of caring first for her husband and then for her children.
She called me on her cell phone from an aisle in the super market, sobbing hysterically. This was her first food shopping excursion since her nest had emptied and she was panicked because she had absolutely no idea of what to buy. None whatsoever.
You know how it is when you are cooking for a family - this one is alergic to this, that one won't eat that, this one will only eat something else. And now with only herself to consider, she was lost. It had been such a long time since she had considered what she wanted to eat for dinner.
This is a sad story, a bit more extreme than most perhaps, but an empty nest can be very traumatic for many women.
With our family grown and our kids off creating lives of their own, women in our mid years now face the future with an empty nest. Now the departure of our chicks leaves us with huge amounts of unaccustomed time to use as we please. This would be extremely liberating if it didn't also make us feel so lonely and insecure.
I can't tell you how many times I have heard women exclaim in jubilation as their 24/7 mothering days run out, "And now, it is my turn!" - the common mantra of middle age. Then they stop in their tracks, dumbstruck, as they realize that now, free to pursue their deferred dreams, they have no idea any more of what it is that they want for themselves.
After a couple of decades of serving the needs and desires of others, we have lost sight of our own. Many of us have sacrificed our early aspirations on the altar of nurturing others. Our once-upon-a-time dreams murdered by self-denial, dashed by adversity, and starved by neglect and lack. Lack of time, of energy, of financial resources, of moral supoport, of self-esteem, of courage.
Not only do we "lose" our children at this stage of life, we also often lose track of our sense of Self. As Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis poignantly put it, "What is sad for women of my generation is that they weren't supposed to work if they had families. What were they going to do when the children are grown - watch the raindrops coming down the window pane?"
Our generation's story is different from Jackie's in that most of us have worked out in the world. But then, of course, we came home and worked a full time job there, as well. Now, with our responsibilities substantially reduced, we finally have the time to dote on us.
So take this opportunity to do what it is that you always wanted to do - someday. Take that half-finished novel out of the drawer. Take that class that has always intrigued you. Take that long-deserved trip.
If not now, when? Someday is today!
With blessings of a nest filled with Self discovery,
I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming that comes when you finish the life of the emotions and of personal relations; and suddenly find - at the age of fifty, say - that a whole new life has opened before you, filled with things you can think about, study, or read about...It is as if a fresh sap of ideas and thoughts was rising in you.
When is the last time someone cooked a special meal for you? When is the last time you cooked a special meal especially for yourself? What are you waiting for?
If you are never alone at dinnertime, do lunch. Or brunch, or breakfast, or high tea, or a midnight snack.
Create an out-of-the-ordinary menu that might include your favorite culinary treats, or foods that you have always meant to try. Or you may want to create a fantasy feast or recreate a memorable meal from your childhood, from your travels to exotic places, or from your favorite book.
Cook with the intention to nourish and please yourself, purposefully infusing the food with love, just as you would in anticipation of any honored guest.
Set your table with all of the special things that you love, but never use. Enjoy your grandmother's plate or vase, cloth napkins, and your good stemware.
Create a centerpiece that honors and celebrates you. Have fresh flowers or foliage or your favorite houseplant. Set out some of your amulets or holy items that represent your intention to treat your Self well. Light candles to ignite your intention.
Pour a libation of wine or ice tea and offer a toast to you, your health, your happiness, your life.
Don't forget to say grace. Bless your Self and your bountiful blessings.
Serve your Self!
Memories From an Empty Nest
By Anna Quindlen
All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves.
Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past. Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach, T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations - what they taught me was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.
Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One boy is toilet trained at three, his brother at two. When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow.
I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month-old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language - mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?" (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?
But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.
Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.
That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.
Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.
Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.
Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.
Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.
One day I shall dig my nails into the earth,
or bury my face in the pillow,
or stretch myself taut,
or raise my hands to the sky and want,
more than all the world, your return.
- Mary Jean Iron
The Queen's Court is a gathering of sovereign women of a certain age - our dear peers - who graciously offer information, guidance, inspiration and encouragement to each other.
We Queens know what we know. And we know a great deal. Our experience has made us wise. So, feel free to consult with our cyber council/counsel when you are need of sage advice or wish to explore a particular topic of interest.
Dear Queen Mama Donna,
My only child left for college a few weeks ago. I am thrilled for her, and I am so proud. She has been a good, diligent student and was accepted at the college of her choice. She even won a scholarship.
But my heart is breaking. How's that for a drama Queen? The house is so empty without her around, and I miss her terribly. Of course I've known this day would come for years. It's what we both worked so hard for, and I want her to be happy. But now that she's gone, away. I am desolate.
I've been divorced for years, which I'm very OK with. As long as I was a busy single mom working and raising her on my own, I didn't think too much about what it would be like to be on my own someday. I just did whatever had to be done. Now this empty house is haunting me and I can't imagine how I am going to fill up my time.
Of course I have friends, but they aren't going to veg out on the couch with me to watch stupid TV and eat popcorn. It's those silly, sweet times together that I miss most.
How can I make this aching stop?
- Despondent Darlene, WI
Oh, honey, I know that you are sad. Of course you are. Your world is shifting. Both you and your daughter are on the verge of creating entirely new lives for yourselves. If it is scary, it is exciting, too. I hope that you can ultimately embrace the opportunities you have, just as your daughter is embracing hers!
Take some time to explore, just as your daughter is doing in her new environment. What interests you? What pleases you? What pleasures you? Do it! Try out new experiences, new things, new people. Challenge yourself. Explore your creativity. Learn something new. Get involved. Have yourself some fun.
Just think how many exciting new stories your daughter and you will have to share when she comes home for Thanksgiving!
I am sure that you encouraged your daughter in many ways for many years to develop her interests and talents and to live up to her full potential. Now is the time to lavish upon yourself that same unconditional loving kindness, support, and solace that you have always given so freely to her. Now you are free to direct these same ministering attentions toward your own care and feeding, your own growth and comfort, your own self-healing.
With blessings of new beginnings,
Please feel free to offer your wisdom in response to Darlene's call for help.
I would love to continue this thread of discussion. Send your ideas, opinions, and personal experiences about your empty nest.
When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to a spectator. It's like being the vice president of the United States.
- Erma Bombeck
Please send your questions or responses to:firstname.lastname@example.org
Your letters will be printed in the next Queen's Chronicles.
The Queen's Correspondence
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Letters In Response to the September 2011 Issue:
Thanks for this. It's great info as usual.
- Cat, NY
Hey, you inspired me to get a plot at our local community garden. I look forward to getting my hands in the earth. Thanks for the push.
- Sharon, MA
Hattie Carthan was quite an amazing woman. I just love the image of this elder Queen tossing seed bombs into empty, derelict lots! I am going to take a page from her book and plant some fall seeds in a few places around here. Thank you for sharing this information.
- Wendy, AZ
Thank you for another interesting read. And thank you to all the urban gardeners who are making our cities better, healthier places to live.
- Irma, TX
I already knew about the dedicated work of Yonnette Fleming, so I am grateful that you have exposed her to your circles. She is a real fireball who is fighting for the rights of poor people to eat well and be healthy.
- Charice, NY
Thank you Queen Donna for continuing such a high standard of research and writing. The Chronicles are always full of new information about women who have distinguished themselves through their intelligence, courage, and dedication. I am so proud of this Woman's History.
- Carolina, GA
Recently saw this sign and immediately thought of you: "I DIDN'T ASK TO BE QUEEN...BUT HEY...IF THE CROWN FITS!" Giggled out loud and then went on with my day. Thought you'd enjoy the sentiment.
- Seena, Crowned Queen, NY
May this reach you in high spirits. My name is Tara and your issue about gardens and also with the letter from the incarcerated woman in California was a beacon of inspiration in a very sterile environment, and one that I am very grateful for.
I am also incarcerated and there is very little inside of these walls that is inspirational or evocative of nature because of all the concrete, steel, and wire. We are not allowed to touch or walk on the strips of grass in the yard, nor are we allowed to touch even a single leaf if we walk by a plant. Recently I watched a lady get put in the segregation unit because she picked a flower. I find myself sniffing the air fervently when passing a bush, tree, or shrub on my way to and from the chow hall in hopes to get a scent of sap or wood or flower as a desperate way to connect to some part of nature. I also look out past the fence during yard time and daydream from the forest within myself for inspiration.
When I read your articles I am reminded of the divine femininity within both me and in other women; even those women that, yes, I have hardened my heart against. I am also reminded me of my connection to the Wheel, to the seasons, to the Earth, and to the helping spirit realm of beings present but not seen.
Thank you for taking the time to read my letter, I just wanted to let you know that you have a positive impact in my life. Namaste,
- Tara, CO
Please send your responses to email@example.com.
Your letters will be printed in the next Queen's Chronicles.
We extend hearty congratulations to our multi-talented circle of Sister Queens for their impressive accomplishments and successes.
While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die - whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness.
Margaret Flanagan, NY; Maureen Gosling, CA; Barbara Hammer, NY; Linda Mary Montano, NY and Annie Sprinkle and Liz Stevens, CA on their performances and/or performances of their work.
Barbara Ardinger, CA, Secret Lives (Book); C. Bangs, NY and Greg Matloff, Biosphere Extension: Solar System Resources for the Earth (Book); Joanna Powell Colbert, WA, The Gaian Tarot (Deck); Francesca De Grandis, Share My Insanity: It Improves Everything (Book); Janet Goldner, NY, Obama in Mali (Photo Book); Edie Weinstein Moser, PA, The Bliss Mistress Guide To Transforming the Ordinary Into the Extraordinary (Book); Nicki Scully, CA, Planetary Healing: Spirit Medicine for Global Transformation (Book); and Mariahadessa Ekere Tallie, NY, Karma's Footsteps (Book); on their new publications.
Jerri Allyn, CA; Eleanor Antin, CA; Judith Bernstein, NY; Darla Bjork, NY; Cristina Biaggi, NY; Stephanie Brody-Lederman, NY; Nancy Buchanan, CA; Joyce Cutler-Shaw, CA; Karen Fitzgerald, NY; Ann Gauldin, CA; Cheri Gaulke, CA; Ilona Granet, NY; Melissa Harris, NY; Julie Harrison, NY; Robin Holder, NY; Laurel Klick, CA; Suzanne Lacey, CA; Maraleen Manos-Jones, NY; Beverly Naidus, WA;Aviva Rahmani, ME;
and Linda Stein, NY on exhibitions of their artwork.
Margot Adler, NY, on receiving an honorary degree from the Adler School of Psychology.
Lorraine O'Grady, NY, on receiving an Art Matters Grant.
Dorothy Dembowski, NY, on her new job.
Daile Kaplan, NY, and Diane Saarinen, NY, on their television appearances.
Send your good news, achievements, accomplishments, successes and celebrations so that our international circle of sovereign sisters can send you blessings and accolades.
And we are glad to so. It is a joy and a privilege to share in the fortune of another woman. I recently heard Oprah say the saddest thing ever - "The hardest thing about being successful is having someone to be glad for you."
It takes a centered and confident Queen to break that pattern. There are 60 million thrones out there. One for each of us. There is plenty of purpose, passion and power for us all. May we use it well!
It is important that you recognize your progress and take pride in your accomplishments. Share your achievements with others. Brag a little. The recognition and support of those around you is nurturing.
- Rosemarie Rossetti
Please Offer Your Purest Thoughts, Your Heart-Felt Prayers, Your Great Good Feelings, And Your Very Best Blessings For Healing and Peace of Mind To:
Alison, TN; Amy, NY; Bebee, DE; Berenice, NY; Betty, AL; Chrissie, NY; Dana, CA; Dani, WI; Dominique, NM; Dee, NY; Erica, New Zealand; Gail, OH; Geraldine, ID; Glenys, Australia; Joanne, CA; Jo, AZ; Judith, NY; Karen, NJ; Kathleen, PA; Kazuko, NY; Kimi, NJ; Lorie, KY; Lydia, CO; Lisa, PA; Lucia, TX; Mary Gatle, MD; Naomi, DC; Pat, MA; Pearl, NY; Randi, NY; Ruth, NY; Sandi, NY; Sandy, CA; Sheryll, CA; Shirley, IN; Sid, PA; Smriti, CA; Susan, MA; Susan, NC; Terri, FL; and Yvette, NY; who are in the process of healing themselves from illness, accident, injury or surgery.
D. Barbara, NY; Kimberly, NY; Kimi, NJ; Linda, NY; Linda, NY; Meryl, NY; Dee, NY; Patricia, Australia; and Regi, CA; who would benefit greatly from some spiritual support.
Ali, VT; Amy, NY; Chrys, NY; Erica, New Zealand; Gail, NY; Kayla, NY; Lee, NJ; Lois, NY; Nancy, NC; Roslyn, NJ and Sharon, FL; the caregivers who are in weary need of care themselves.
May Their Spirits Rest in Peace:
Abby Frank, FL
Deborah Fern Hill, TX
Wangari Maathai, Kenya
Joanne Olson, WI
Elaine Stocker, IL
With Heartfelt Condolences:
Kacy Baecker, NY
Eunice Fisher, FL
Netty Hackenstein, NY
Judith Rose, IL
My husband's only sibling has a terminal illness and is not expected to live very long. She is 53. Please keep Toni Anne Yukl in your prayers and spread the word to all your circles of concern. We need some wholehearted healing here! Thank you!
- Margaret, NY
The love of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say, "What are you going through?" Please send your requests for physical and spiritual healing and positive energy so that the powerful women of The Queen's Court might send their prayers and blessings to you in your time of need.
At a Queen event in Pennsylvania this summer, Tracey Baum Wicks, a crowned Queen, mentioned that she was experimenting with urban farming. So I contacted her to write about her efforts as a follow up to the September issue about gardens in the city.
Thank you for the invitation. Just like a good journal fest, writing this helped me distill my experience to its essence. I am filled with a sense of gratitude and abundance. Warmly,
A few years ago I started to wake up to the potential ramifications of the peak oil dilemma and began to feel drawn to the notion of food security and sustainable farming practices.
As a single gal in midlife, I began daydreaming about retirement from my skincare and bodywork practice, a vision, which always landed me on some idyllic little patch of country road with some "acreage" far from my urban existence in upstate NY. But alas, with retirement still 10-15 years down the road, all I could do was study and be ready, perhaps experiment a bit so as to shorten the learning curve when I would finally become a real farmer. So, as I waited for that day to come, I began reading, attending classes and experimenting with sustainable gardening techniqueson my .4 acre city lot.
My first project was to create a fenced, raised bed garden area that would be safe from browsing deer. Deer have become more and more prevalent in urban areas. Suburban sprawl robs them of wild habitat, so they are forced to cross frequently through human habitat to find what small margins of hedgerow and brush remain, often at the edges of our highways. I resolved to plant something outside the enclosed area for the deer to enjoy on their daily pilgrimage.
Utilizing 6' steel garden stakes, expandable lattice walls from an old yurt for support and a double layer of 6' rolled reed fencing attached with plastic ties I created a 40' diameter circular enclosed garden space. A makeshift gate from an old carved wood dressing screen and latch provided security, and double rows of straw bales lining the inner wall save a margin for the addition of soil and compost, as well as bio- degradable raised garden beds.
This fenced-in space plays a dual role in that it provides me with 100 linear feet of easy to tend raised garden space AND a wonderfully secluded gathering space for friends, complete with a circle of seats around a fire pit.
I burn all of the dead fall from my trees in the pit and later add the ashes to my compost to build the soil. Beauty, function, and fun in one project ... cool, right?! And for the first time in the seven years I have lived on this busy corner lot at a major intersection, I can be outside with friends and not feel like I am in a fish bowl. It's my secret garden in the city.
One of the biggest imperatives of sustainable agriculture on any scale is and shall continue to be the building of soil fertility. I began to experiment with composting last winter by using an under the counter container with red wriggler worms. The "gross factor" was quickly replaced by the "awe factor." And before long I was reveling in the bounty of rich, black worm casting that would ensure a whole planting season of nutritious compost tea for my raised bed circle garden.
Before planting season was barely underway, fly season was in full swing and my handy under counter set-up found a summer home in a shady corner of the backyard. I missed the convenience of my worm bin immediately and immensely. So, necessity being the Mother of Invention that She is, I shifted gears for the warm weather and installed a traditional compost basket right under my kitchen window. When I am done prepping my luscious homegrown veggies, I simply open the kitchen window and drop the the scraps and peels into a woven willow compost basket under the window. I close the window and no flies!
Yet another permaculture experiment managed to combine edible landscaping, potential aquatic animal food production, a perpetual source of fertilizer AND a fun weekend project with my nine year old nephew Spencer. Spencer was looking for a new home for his year-old carnival goldfish who'd not only survived, but also thrived! It had grown some 6" long and had outgrown his bowl at home. So we put our heads together and decided to build an above ground container water garden. Using an 8' diameter by 2' deep stock tank for our container, we then imitated the graduated floor depths to bank level that exist in natural ponds by stacking old tiresalong one side of the pond wall in staggered formation, filling their cavities with a combination of pea gravel and garden dirt, creating lots of nooks and crannies and mud for beneficial bacteria and pond critters to hide!
After filling the pond with water and allowing it to sit for 24 hours to de-chlorinate (the bane of the organic urban gardener - municipal water treatment!) we then scoured nearby creeks for cattails, watercress, and duckweed. We purchased some edibles such as arrowhead, sweetflag, lotus, and water celery as well as great water aerators like water hyacinth and iris. Next stops, the bait shop and pet store for crawfish and trapdoor snails. We even sent away for bullfrog pollywogs in the mail. And of course we acquired a mate for Spencer's goldfish.
And there it was, a masterpiece of symbiotic relationships and rich bio-diversity, just like a natural pond. The fish eat all bugs on the surface and, with the aid of the snails and pollywogs, keep algae at balanced levels. All the root systems of the plants scrub the water by using the animal excrement as nutrition. Meanwhile crawfish scavenge the pond floor of fish poo and decomposing leaves. And there's still enough nutritious pond muck, teaming with life, to fertilize the garden with. Now, truth be told, we've not yet made a meal of our pond critters, but theoretically, we could. I'll keep you posted on that one!
The pond project with Spencer proved to be a great learning for me. The fun, adventure, awe, and deep satisfaction we shared supplanted the dread fear of our impending societal/environmental collapse with delight and infinite possibility. The magical experience of participating in community compelled me. I resolved to "get me some more of that!"
I began brainstorming about all of the ways I might invite and entice the neighbors to inquire, tour, and participate in my grand experiment. I ordered a child's bee suit for Spencer so he can participate in tending the top bar hive that I keep as a Bee Guardian. I designed a living willow tunnel for the busy front corner of the property. Once established, it will invite pedestrians to cut right through my yard to the main road in enchanted style, and just maybe it will peak their curiosity about the fruit trees they will be passing. At very least they'll be wondering how the crazy lady on the corner, who used to scold them for cutting across her grass, became such a creative and thoughtful neighbor! "Maybe it has something to do with those mushrooms she's growing on those logs under that tree," they may wonder.
I also had visions of building friendships with some of the older folks on the block by stopping by with some of the bounty from my garden, sitting down for a cup of tea and one of the wonderful stories from their lives. Why, a couple of times this summer, folks pulled right into my driveway and asked to tour my "magical" property! It seems permaculture is contagious!
As I write this, from the tree swing beneath the old sugar maple on the bustling corner of the main road, it occurs to me that I am actually a real farmer right now. I am doing it. I am living on that "idyllic little patch of road." Ok, so it's a fraction of an acre instead of acreage. But it's teaming with life, full of possibilities and growing deep roots in this, MY community. After all, what is an organic farmer really? Isn't it Mother Nature, with the wave of seasons and the majestic command of the elements who directs the symphony of all life? Me, I just turn the page so the music can play on. Nice work if you can get it.
Now go play in the dirt!
- Tracey Baum-Wicks, Syracuse, NY
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