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Not in his goals, but in his transitions is man great.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

This is the hardest transition between seasons I think I have ever experienced.  Honestly, it is wearing me out.  Yesterday, it was around 76 degrees.  I was in shorts, babysitting my nephews, skipping rocks in the creek, and picnicking.  Today, it is going from blue sky to dark gray before it pours rain or spits of hail.  It is about 35 – 40 degrees.  The wind is blowing heavily like it is trying too hard to clear something away.  Something that just doesn’t want to budge.

My life is transitioning right now too.  To what, I’m not exactly sure.  My soul is ready, but my mind is hanging on.  Nervous to release old patterns of thought.  Getting disappointed over the same old things like we haven’t learned that lesson already.  Like it matters at all, really.  Coming back to this blog was part of this transition.  A space to not promote anything.  A space that is not a business.  A space where being “professional” isn’t necessary.  A space just to be me.

Yet, I think that is what all areas of my life is craving.  Just for me to be me and not to worry about what that means to other people.  We are all lit off the same spark, anyway.  Either it is meant for my path to cross yours or it isn’t.  I believe my Creator is in control regardless of what appears to be real.  Therefore, to worry over future, or results, or how someone feels about something I’ve written, a fact I share, or an opinion I hold (until someone cares to try to change my mind :)), is not important.  In fact, it is wasted energy.  Why haven’t I completely accepted that into my reality.  That is fact.  I know this to be Truth.

Transitions.

I’m working on relaxing and I’m not doing all that horrible with it.  I’m focusing on whatever presents in my day, my girls.  I should probably look a little more at housecleaning (always).  The rest (or unrest) – the waiting to hear if a piece I was asked to write has been accepted, waiting to have my first online client (Birth True Childbirth Education – Online Classes), the wondering what I should best do next, I’m trying to not consider as much.  Some days are better than others.

I took a course recently called Birth Heaven Now! through a great woman named, Stephanie Dawn, as a training for my childbirth education/doula work, and really enjoyed everything about it.  So much of what I learned through that course applies to my entire life and not just my work.  The focus on balance.  How can I give anyone my best if I am not caring for myself?  If I am worrying?  If I am working too hard, or struggling through something that really isn’t a fit?  It is true for everything.  One of the topics being excellent self-care.  I’ve been doing ok with that.  I’ve come to realize how caring for myself too can change everything about everything.

What? know you not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which you have of God, and you are not your own? – 1 Corinthian 6:19

Yet, again, there is that nagging of the old “self” rushing through my me time – contemplating my day, my week, my year, conversations I’ve had, conversations I plan to have, things I hope to do, things I have done.  I’m in transition.  I’m leaving that all behind.  Transitions take time.  And yet, what is time?

If what Emerson says is true, then I’m not waiting out a transition to see new life bloom on the other side.  Life is now.  Right now.  Right now in whatever it brings can be great.  Not me.  Not you.  Us.  I am.  We are.  And not great in the sense that we feel accomplished, or we got published, or our child was actually able to identify his/her numbers passed 10 today, but great because of who we are.  We are children of the Divine.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?  You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.  There’s nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.  We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.  It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.  And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”  -Marianne Williamson

28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. -Romans 8:28

1st flowers on the creek

“With the explosive growth of smart phones and social networks in the past few years, people’s lives are more saturated with technology than ever, which is a challenge if you want to stay connected with your peaceful nature as well as your text messages. Constantly checking your computer and phone for updates isn’t just distracting – it also induces anxiety, according to Linda Stone, a former technology executive at Apple and Microsoft, who has researched the effects of computing on human health. “The desire not to miss anything, along with our poor posture and compromised breathing, can evoke a fight-or-flight state,” she says.

– You’ve Got Connections by Jenn Shreve, Septemeber 2010 issue of Yoga Journal, http://www.yogajournal.com

When things don’t feel quite right, we make adjustments.  I have never been a go with the flow kind of gal.  I have always wished I were.  I get nervous if I feel like I might not reach an event or meeting within plenty of time to get comfortable.  So much so, that I am sometimes as much as 20 minutes early for things.  When my “routine” is interrupted, and I feel like something is getting left out of my day, I tend to feel dis-ease.  When John sits in my seat at the kitchen table, it bugs me to death.  I can sit in uncomfortableness and brood, or I can adjust.  I have chosen to adjust.

The blue moon of Kentucky is no longer making me blue.  I am now getting up at 6:30am to practice yoga and read a little before John and the girls are awake.  I am amazed about how much it feels like it adds time to my day.  I’ve not been trying to make Ivy nap.  She slept about 45 minutes today on her own on the couch.  I’m still exhausted, but feeling much more at ease.  Waking at 6:30am is very hard for me.  Our bed sleeps horribly, and my arms fall asleep at night and I have shoulder pain, so I don’t rest much.  However, in a way it makes it easier to get on up.  Our rooster is crowing his head off by that time anyway.  So much of how we feel/react to things is a decision.  I don’t think it is always a conscious one, but nevertheless, it is a decision. 

My sweet Ivy at Parent/Child yoga.

I really think that most often we are hindered by our own blockages or walls.  I have never been the mother that could pull out of the moment to figure out a less stressful way to deal with a situation.  I’ve always been the mother looking back and hoping that one day I’d be the mindful mother.  I think one day I will.  One day soon.  More often than not.

This here full moon has taken the place of the peace I had found on Thursday.  It’s gone and left me blue.  When I taught middle school, the teachers would all gather in the halls to discuss the day, and we’d often notice (or at least blame) rowdy behavior on the full moon.  Labor and delivery nurses will often do the same when they have a busy ward.  Same in the jailhouses and on the beat.  Now, that I am a mother, I’m starting to wonder if there might be some truth to it.

Ivy has decided that sleeping is no longer cool.  I mean she is a big kid now, being two and all.  She is getting in bed around 10pm and waking around 8am.  She is not napping most days, and the days that she does, she doesn’t sleep very long.  I am missing my nap time, quiet yoga practice.  Evening alone time with John, that doesn’t require staying up until midnight.  Then, during her waking hours, especially toward evening, she is non-stop and grouchy.  Biting Deladis, climbing whatever she can find to climb, turning sommersaults, using the toilet to get high on shelves in the bathroom to find her “lipstick” (chapstick) so she can put it on with her pretty dress and necklace (Where she gets this, I don’t know.  I don’t wear jewelry or makeup.), lots of crying when something doesn’t turn out just so, and picking the kitten up by the head.  Real nice.  Lots of fun for her mama.

Deladis has “gotten a mouth”.  She simply tells us “no” when she doesn’t like a request or our plans.  I had to chase her all over the playground at the music school on the last day.  She was loudly telling me that “no” she was not going home.  Plain and simple.  Today, during school time, she pretends she doesn’t know things that I know good and well she does.  Picking up her toys is also a “no”.

I’m exhausted.  I’m on the edge.  This is part of motherhood.  The times after you think you’ve gotten it under control – after you feel like things are going to be really good for awhile – when you realize that the next stage is just beginning and you will be adjusting all over again.  I don’t have it all together.  There are times when I feel like what I truly need is a break, and not a short one either.  When I feel like I need to completely change our lifestyle because something is not going right at all, it is so tempting to sit and whine.  To feel bad.  To blame myself.  To accuse myself of not being cut out for the job.  Then, what good does all that do?  Where do you go from here?  Parenting books, self-help, religious texts???  Complaining in online mothering forums.  Praying or meditating, hoping for some divine intervention.  Or waiting.  Realizing that there is nothing wrong with the picture.  It is what it is.  You are who you are, waiting for the full moon to wane.

We see now that we do not live by acquiring, gaining, or achieving.  We live by Grace;…

-Joel S. Goldsmith, The Infinite Way

This week I learned some things.  I learned that peace starts inside.  I learned that once we know better that negative reactions are a choice.  Struggle in many ways is also a choice.  I don’t know if readers of this blog come here to read about spirituality, yoga, or personal growth.  I reckon most of you come here to read about Appalachia and mountain folks (if I go by my search engine hits), or copperhead snakes.  But, this blog documents our lives, and at this point it is as much for me and my girls as it is for those reading.  I’m putting the truth of our life out there into the regions of cyberspace and that is also a choice.  When you visit here you are reading the journey of an Appalachian woman born and raised, whose family has been here for many generations.  You are getting true Appalachia, folks.  Is it how you thought it would be?

Thursday, I came home from the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School with the girls.  Ivy hadn’t had a real nap since Monday.  I laid her down since she fell asleep in the truck.  I started my yoga practice as Deladis played.  I needed this time.  About ten minutes in, Ivy wakes up crying every breath.  Nothing wrong, just not happy and tired.  I try to continue to practice, hoping that she will soon get woke up enough to practice too or play.  Then, the power goes out.  It has been out so much this week.  The wind blows and it is out for hours. 😦  It comes back on, and I restart my DVD.  About two minutes later the power is out again.  I lay down.  Ivy grabs my head and shakes it back and forth.  I feel my body tense.  I feel myself wanting to cry.  I begin to whine – “just a few minutes girls.”  I was tired.  I was all touched out.  I was frustrated.

Inside, a voice spoke to me.  STOP.  This is not the way. Whatever I was perceiving as a wrong was not a wrong.  It wasn’t the end of my world.  I could whine and raise my voice, lament my ruined practice, or I could do something else.  I called my mother to watch the girls and I went to yoga in town.  I ran to yoga.

I met my needs and I met the girls needs with one decision that saved me a whole evening of being disheartened and aggravating to the girls.  Five other women were at the studio that evening, each coming with their own reason to practice.  Each coming with their own weight of the day, but all with a bit of joy and release in their hearts.  It was a beautiful practice.  We laughed.  We relaxed.  We loved.  We released.  I particularly enjoyed Lord of the Dance asana.

This is not me, but feel like my pose resembled this one.  Yoga is not efforting.  Yoga is not struggling.  It is relying on what you know to free you to take the risk of stepping into the unknown.  I can change bad habits.  I can change my attitude.  I can live with simple means in abundance of Grace.  In Luke chapter 15 verse 31, the father of the prodigal son explains to his oldest son who remained with him, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.”  God, The Creator, The Universe, The Collective Unconscious, whatever name you have for the Supreme Existence/Being is always with us, even when we choose to separate ourselves.  All that is, is ours.  Not finite material things, but simple being.  Very simple being.  And that is enough.  That is what is lasting into infinity.

I’m so excited because before I was so out of touch with options that in situations where it seemed that struggle was inevitable, I fell right into that way of being.  I became struggle with all my heart and soul.  I didn’t hear the Spirit within.  I was deaf to the voice.  I hear the voice now.  Eventhough, it is still easier to fall into old patterns.  I hear the voice.  I hear it!  I’m finding the yoga.  The union.  The living to the full capacity of who I am.  I’m very excited about what that might mean for my life.  What miserable ways of being I might be released from.  Not that anything is any better, but that I am present.

And I’m beginning to wonder why…

Why am I wondering why?  It has given Lars, our eldest dog of 11 years, a complex.  Today, as it has been for the last few days, he has been chasing the diddles, trying to eat them.  Add that to Goldie, our pup, chewing everything in site.  Add to that, Lars fighting Goldie over both his food and her food.  We have a mess on our hands… and we’re adding another baby to the mix in a few days – of the kitten variety.

Goldie and her mess.

I’m exhausted today.  Above you see Goldie and her mess.  She tore up our waders (fortunately they already had holes), the girls’ sidewalk chalk, a toy bunny from the sandbox, and somehow she got the girls’ snow hat from inside and tore it up outside.  Oh, and tearing into the food bags.  Ugh…

But, you know… I expect that.  She’s a pup.  They do those things.  Lars destroyed our couch and my pewter statue collection when he was a pup.  Yes, he chewed up soft metal.  What I didn’t expect was Lars to be fine for the first couple of weeks with Goldie around, but now that we have 9 diddles, and they are getting older, he has decided that he is nuts and doesn’t care about the rules.  He has turned on Goldie during mealtimes, yelps coming from the front porch as he puts her in her place.  And, after the last few days, I’m beginning to wonder if our joy with the diddles (“peeps” as Deladis calls them) will last.

The diddles have a mother.  A good mother.  She free ranged and set 9 eggs through hatching, and has made it with all 9 babies through a week as of today.  They are adorable, and we enjoy them like proud grandparents, giving them back to their mother for the complicated part of rearing.  This afternoon, however, as I fell into the peace of yoga, I was interrupted by an upset Deladis.  “A peep is under the house and she is stuck!”

“What!” I jumped out of my crescent moon lunge and we were out the door in a second.  Then, I see Lars – dirt smeared across his face and I see the evidence of him as the culprit of this mess.  Deladis confirmed it, as she had watched it from her swing.  The diddle jumped under the house for protection as the hen and the rest of her brood scattered around the side of the cabin.  The baby was left under the house without the capability of figuring out how to get back out.

First, I go under the cabin.  It’s dark – really dark.  Then, I see where the sound of the peeping is coming from, and that the floor joists are so low that I will have to army crawl to get to the diddle.  Not to mention the diddle is a black one, and I can’t actually see it, just hear it.

I hunt a flashlight.  The only one I find is a toy one of the girls’.  Tinker Bell.  I go back under and realize that this flashlight won’t cut it.  I also realize what I have suspected for some time.  I am a little put off by tight squeezes.  I go back out and call John for a better light and encoragement.  He tells me there are no flashlights within a reasonable proximity to me.  The diddle’s cries are louder now, and I know I have to suck it up and save that baby.  I take the Tinker Bell flashlight and put Deladis on guard outside one of the vent holes in our cinderblock foundation.  I take deep breaths and crawl, only hitting my head once, to the diddle.  It jumps and runs to a nearby corner.  I catch it between the block and a piece of plastic, pick it gently up, and hand it to Deladis who is still waiting outside the vent hole.  She then returns the baby to its mother.  We are all pleased after the minor freak out.

Then, I just get plain mad.  Lars needs to get over himself!  He’s well feed, gets plenty of attention, and has all the room and comfort he needs.  He is being a party pooper and is disregarding the rules of this family.  I guess he thinks he’s old enough now to do what he wants.  Well, you know what happens to grown kids when they get old enough to do what they want… ok, just kidding.  I won’t make him get his own place.  So, I’m left with having to respect his age and realize we a peers now.  And, that leaves me where I started, being mad.

After my prenatal yoga training in Asheville, NC a week or so ago, I feel like I have come full circle spiritually and in my path of becoming whole.  Not only did I get some girly time to myself, I got to immerse myself in yoga, birth, and teaching, three of my most favorite things.  I am back to the Hatha style of yoga.  I’m following my heart.  It led me there, and currently I’m into Baron Baptiste and Vinyasa.

In the video I’m doing, Baron at one point says, “struggle less, breathe more.”  Friday of last week it just clicked.  He also says “breath is free.  breathing is free.”  Struggling is not free.  Efforting can feel so much like forcing.  Efforting feels like impatience.  Why not breathe?  Why not let go of the struggle, and allow the Creator to work?  Living now is all we have.  Doing our best in the moment.  Living in the moment, instead of rehashing the past or pushing for the future.  The time is now.  If we don’t live now, we are missing life.

I quit trying to push myself into asanas (poses), and instead I grounded myself through my feet and hands, and I used the breath.  I felt peace rush over me.  There was nothing I had to do.  I felt my muscles release in the work.  I was connected to earth through my body and the life force through my breath.  I felt free.

I think of all I try to do with my life.  All the time tables I give myself, and the preconceptions of how I think things should go.  I analyze little things – glitches – and read into them much more than is there.  I don’t trust that the Creator will lead me through.  I don’t trust that where I am is exactly where I should be.  I don’t wait for the Creator’s time.  I don’t live in the time I’m given.  I keep struggling, thinking that I must push myself, or try this or that to see if it brings me forward.  I keep doing this despite the fact that I see it mostly resulting in wasted time.  I keep doing this even though most of my moving forward happens through the Creator bringing connections to me, and none through my efforts.  It’s like an addiction almost.  A need to have my hand in the mix, as if somehow I can influence anything through effort.

No, we make changes, progress, and find ourselves by letting go.  By breathing and doing only the work that is ours to do in that moment.  By being mindful.  Listening for that still small voice.  By not judging success by numbers, but by quality, and giving the glory where the glory belongs.  Snatam Kaur sings in “By Thy Grace” – “one day the day shall come when all the glory shall be Thine.  People will say it is yours and I will deny not mine.”  What a happy and amazing day – the day we can acknowledge that.  Know it with our hearts and live in that peace.  Living not to in and of ourselves make changes, or influence events, but to let it pass through us in the moments we are given and the connections brought to us.

It is – “Be still and know that I am God.”  That is what it is.

Things are so busy here!  I’m going this weekend to beautiful Asheville, NC to get some prenatal yoga training for pregnancy and labor.  I was on the radio last night.  I’m working on another radio piece to air in May.  Preparing for some upcoming classes.  Then, Deladis starts real kindergarten in August, so I am ordering the curriculum because we will be staying home for school for sure.  I am so darn excited!  Our school is The Confluence Homeschool, and we are eclectic homeschoolers with a seasonally inspired curriculum that fits in with our lifestyle really well.  And to beat it all – the curriculum I have found is only $50 for the whole year!

Our garden is going well, though I haven’t gotten to work it much myself. 😦  Spinach is ready for eating and the broccoli has sprung up real nice in the last week.  I hope to plant some zucchini and squash when I get home and maybe some corn and beans.  Ivy has been sick and where we moved the garden away from the cabin, it has been hard for me to get down there to work.

We had our first collective meeting for The Confluence, which is what we are calling our project here.  We are looking to organize our educational efforts into a real opportunity for us and anyone interested.  We’ll have art, traditional music, history, sustainable living, childbirth education, food ways, and so much more. hehe

I hope to be able to write more as we get into May.  Things are really clumped up after the hard winter, but I think it will slow down again soon.  Hopefully, I’ll have more pictures. 🙂

It is very tempting to make this my last post.  It has been a year.  I’ve blogged for a whole year!  At the same time, I feel like life is changing for me.  A period is ending and another beginning.  Seasons are literal things.

This week Betsy, with the Appalachian Cultural Project, spent Sunday through Wednesday with us off and on.  It made me a little nervous being as private and backward as I am – often socially inept.  Honestly, I’m a bit exhausted just from thinking about the whole experience.  I’m sure Betsy is as well.  I talked her leg off.  I tried to explain everything thoroughly.  I feared portrayal through a lens that didn’t understand our reasons.  Betsy was respectful, and always asked if a subject matter might be questionable.  Really, what was there to fear?  Judgment comes whether we ask for it or not, and those who get their kicks from judging will do so despite our efforts to help them see beyond limitations.

It is hard sometimes being Appalachian.  It is hard being Appalachian and then still not fitting into any of the neat compartments within that term.  My whole life, when in contact with outsiders I’ve dealt with my speaking being corrected, asked if we have electricity, indoor toilets, and if we wear shoes at home.  I’ve heard people within our own home state say to others… “We’re from ______, the civilized part of the state.”  I’ve seen people’s perception of me change as soon as I open my mouth.  I’m a student of English literature.  In fact, I hold two degrees in that area, one of them being a graduate degree.  I don’t need correcting.  I know the proper pronunciation of the speech I choose.  If I did not, I would ask, admit to not knowing, or not use the word.  I also am not ashamed of where I am from.  I make no apologies to that extent.

Then, there is my identity within the identity.  We live in our tiny cabin.  Right now, the plan is to homeschool.  We don’t have cable or satelite TV.  I don’t have a cell phone, though I could use one.  We try to avoid fast food.  We play banjos, fiddles, and flat foot in the mornings.  We love our families, and weave our ideas in and out amongst theirs.  Gardening is a huge goal.  We want goats, and by cracky, those hens better start laying eggs soon, or they could end up on the plate.  None of these choices are to set ourselves apart from others,or to judge other choices.  It is only listening to our heart.  What is right for me is right for me, and if it isn’t I’ll change.

I can no longer call our homeschool choice Waldorf.  We are surely Waldorf inspired, but we are eclectic.  Come fall, Deladis will be learning her letters and simple numbers, along with long hours outside, art projects, her dance, and lots of music.  Delaying academics for her isn’t fitting in the flow of things.  She’s ready and asking.  I won’t try any more to fit a mold.

I won’t try to have a perfect yoga practice, or a perfect devotional period everyday.  I will have my practice and devotional everyday possible, listening to my needs and the urgings of my Creator.

I will continue to work hard at my new callings.  I will continue to learn and be taught.  I will try my best to listen to Truth and my intuition instead of ignoring it and second guessing.  I will do my personal best in all my pursuits.  I will love the people of my region and do all I can to offer myself as they/we need.  I will love those outside of my region and listen to their issues and share ours with them.

So, as I explained to Betsy why we have a busted fridge on our patio, and why there is a pile of scrap in the side yard.  As I exhausted myself making apologies for my lack of home organization and the sulfur orange stains in our tub, toilet, and sinks from tainted well water, I learned something.  It doesn’t matter.  There is a story behind us all.  All of us.  My job is to protect and love my family, the integrity of the services I am now offering to pregnant mamas and their families, and to understand as best I can that “the sun shines on everyone.  It doesn’t make choices.” (Snatam Kaur)  This won’t be my last post.

The picture CD I got from Betsy didn’t work in my PC. 😦  Hopefully, I will be able to share some of them with you soon. It also looks like that as of now, none of our pictures have made it to the ACP website.  You should look at the gorgeous pictures that are there though.  Betsy does have two up on her blog if you would like to see them.

I am uninspired to write here lately.  I have so many other things on my mind.  A new occupation to add to motherhood.  Projects with the girls.  Preparing to teach again.  Required reading, that I am absolutely loving.  Continuing a yoga practice and spiritual study.  Then, somewhere in there I do the dishes and the laundry.  The rest of the house is just what it is right now.  I think today I’ll clean the bathroom. 😉

I like it this way though.  I’m excited and I feel full.  The only thing I am having trouble balancing right now is the work and home duties.  The girls are watching more TV than we typically allow.  Our days seem to have lost the rhythm they had before.  We don’t have school every weekday, which is okay now since it is only preschool, but it is something I’ll have to figure out by next school year.  I’ll be more planted in the childbirth teaching by then too, so I hope the balance will come naturally.

Whew!  I’m busy and not complaining. 🙂

Speaking of naturally…  Ivy didn’t totally give up nursing after all.  She still asks a few times a day, but the nighttime nursing is over.  I don’t mind at all letting weaning be child led.  Yes, I feel tired sometimes, but for me it sure beats having to stick to my guns.  It is the same way with me and potty training.  I don’t have the wherewithal to actually train when it comes to something like that.  Deladis initiated it when she was three, and I helped her as she was ready.  It worked out really well.  She was without accidents in about  month.

I have been noticing more and more how our children develop naturally.  I mean, without being taught directly.  Ivy is learning so many words, and is putting together sentences.  She has started helping me with the dishes on her own.  She even knows where to place them in the drainer.  I noticed how carefully she handles the knives with the point away from her, gently placing it on the dry towel.  Before today, I always just took them away from her, or did it myself, making sure she didn’t touch them.  Today, I watched ready to help if needed.  A very safe environment in which to learn.  Ivy showed me she already knew what to do and can handle bigger jobs when Mama is around to observe.

Deladis has started coloring between the lines.  This definitely wasn’t something taught, as we generally don’t have a firm stance on coloring books.  We prefer a blank page.  Deladis has come to love both.  She is coloring some creative pages, showing us that coloring books can foster creativity.

Deladis has also learned more about birth being normal than I could have ever imagined having never witnessed it in person.  I could blame it on Milo and Otis or the few birth videos she has seen.  But, I don’t think so.  She is learning about family structure, innately sensing gender and a variety of family units in her play.  Her favorite family to play with are her cattle.  She has a bull, cow, and a calf.  I think they are Jersey.  The mama will say, “Oh, I feel like it is time to have a baby.  I think I will lay down and rest on this soft pillow until my baby comes out.”  The cow will lay down and soon her baby is born.  She stands up, licks her baby, and jumps for joy.  The bull then looks at the cow and says, “Isn’t that a cute little face.”  Then, he joins in the love.

It is great to watch my girls grow.  How if I just provide them with warmth, nutritious food, and love, they will develop into who they are without much else.  It is amazing.  We all are born into our place.  Sometime between childhood and adulthood, many of us get lost and spend so much time trying to dig through the muck to find ourselves again.  I hope my girls will grow and become independent without too much muck.

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About Me

An Appalachian woman born and raised, mothering two little girls in a place that is non-existent to AT&T or UPS. Happily working toward a sustainable lifestyle and writing on the demand of a loud muse.

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