Selective Vision

I recently listened to an interview on NPR with filmmaker Errol Morris that got me thinking again about a topic I've had on my mind. Morris has a new book of essays examining a range of photographs, addressing the question of to what degree the photograph portrays reality, or what portion or story of reality the photographer chooses to reveal (or not) in capturing a particular image.

This idea, of the narrow, specific glimpse of a larger more complex reality and the effects that focus has on perception has been bouncing around my thoughts. I find it fascinating that it is so easy, from a few photographs, to construct an entire "reality" that seems unshakable. It is there. It is evidence. How could it be otherwise? But really there is more. Even when the photograph truly does depict a glimpse of the truth of a situation, there is more. More depth and breadth and messiness to the full reality that risks getting lost in the glimpse.

This topic could head off in so many different ways. But what particularly interests me in this moment is how this question relates to the way I view others' lives, and how I look at my own. I touched briefly on this a few posts back, talking about the idea of rhythm and the desire to find that idealized image in my daily life. There are a small number of blogs that I read regularly and find inspiration from, and as I wrote before, these blogs draw me in, spark creativity, introduce me to new ways of seeing things and motivate me to make changes or continue on the path I'm taking. That is one side of the coin.

The other side is that I can find myself feeling behind, lacking, not able to match up to what I admire about these other women and families; to the reality that I have constructed from the glimpses of their truths. Their lives always look so put together, they seem so natural at what they do, their homes are filled with lovely things and their days with rhythm and intention. And that reality seems unshakable. It is there. It is evidence. How could it be otherwise?

And it feeds my discontentment with the state of things here. But then I think about the corners, bits of walls, glimpses in our house that are lovely to me. That catch me, if just for a fraction of a second, as I walk by, and can bring a fleeting smile or feeling of contentment. Though perhaps not plentiful, they are real. But so is the random table blocking the fireplace in the living room because there are one too many entertainment centers in the room (for months). Or the boys' "art" table that is so overflowingly full it's hard to see, or the precarious pile of various magazines and books and binders perched on top of the basket (that contains what, I'm not sure) on top of which this computer rests when not in use, or the layer of dust that covers more surfaces than I care to admit... You get the picture and its the same for our daily lives.

Which gets me thinking, what if I just took pictures of those corners, bits of walls, glimpses, carefully excluding the piles and dust next door? If I honed in on those times in our days when peace finds its way in and we manage to be engaged in an activity that is inspiring and intentional? Selective vision. Would our house, our life, look like I wish it would? And what would that mean? That we're closer to the image I hold onto, the "reality" I've constructed of others' lives, than I think and it's all just a matter of perspective, of focus and selective vision?

I find myself tempted to do an experiment: to go through the house taking pictures of those places that consistently make me smile, put them together, and see if this gives me a new perspective on our home. Likewise with our days. But then I wonder, is that not telling enough of the truth? Where is the balance between seeing positively - creating the truth you want, versus lacking the depth of the fullness (the messiness) of the reality?

I will admit I find myself generally tipped toward the messiness of reality end of the balance and perhaps could do with a little shift in perspective. So I am curious what effect choosing selective vision for the purpose of creating the truth I want, emphasizing the lovely, the intentional, that exists could have. Yet for me there has got to be more balance. I find myself seeking out, in the reading I do, the inclusion of that broader, messier reality, to round out the truth of the matter. Often that is more inspiring to me in its honesty and fullness than the lovely and intentional glimpses can be.

Stuff :: Less Stuff

Back a while (here), I wrote a bit about how we made the decision to put the farm idea away for a time. Things had gotten out of control and it was time to pause, take a breath and address some basics. Our life was far from intentional and simple. (Was...?) One of the areas we badly needed to address was the amount of stuff that had accumulated all around us. It was closing in on us - especially me.

For a long time now, Jim and I have been operating under the idea of "simple living". Which has so many books and magazines and articles, written about it by now that it is no longer "simple". And maybe when you get into it, it really isn't from the start anyway, but that's another topic. Suffice it to say that for all of our years together we have embraced the value of living simply: among other things, living with and needing less stuff. And before we had kids, I think we did pretty well with that. Since then, however, it's become more of a theoretical proposition. And I'm not just talking about all the baby and now child paraphernalia, though of course that's included. But as things got more hectic, it got easier and easier to not notice the piles cropping up here and there, the toys that were much easier to leave out under foot than put away at the end of a long day, the stuff that sat around on any and all flat surfaces not immediately put away that quickly blended into the landscape... You get the picture.

Now, I've never been one to keep up with the dusting, or keeping the counters cleared off every day - more of the "company's coming, time for ninja cleaning!" sort. But over the Winter and Spring, things really got out of hand and I started to feel a bit claustrophobic, on edge whenever I was around home.

And so, we are making some changes. Drew and Garrett's toys got an overhaul, we took a couple car loads of stuff to the boys' school rummage sale - and then the thrift store - and most impressive so far, cleaned out the porch. The whole house is on the list, a room a week till the end of the summer (loosely following the plan in this book). It feels so very good to be making a difference, clearing out the stuff, bringing some intentionality and order - simplicity - back to our home, creating a little more space to breathe and to be.

The Nursery

Over the course of the next weeks, this little farmhouse will begin to bulge at the seams with all kinds of new life. The first seeds of many have been planted (and are sprouting!), tomorrow we will receive our first ever order of chicks through the mail and on Monday the boys and I will be taking a road trip to pick up another batch. The chicks we'll receive tomorrow will be our Spring flock of broilers. This time we will be raising "Rainbow Rangers", which are a slightly slower growing bird that is happy -and able- to forage for much of their feed. We've heard good things about these birds and are excited to raise them up. Then on Monday we'll pick up the first half of our layers for this year. More seeds should be arriving soon, and in April we'll pick up the second half of our layers as well as some new packages of bees.

Seedlings in the bedroom and chicks in the bathroom is not exactly what I imagined. And I realized today that I might just have to finally accept that this house is destined to be in a state of (slightly controlled...I hope...) chaos, at least for the forseeable future. But I'm not complaining. There is a lot of work ahead, so much tending to be done, whether plant, animal, family or self. There are times it is overwhelming. But how rich we are to be so filled and connected to new life all around us.

**We are now taking orders for broilers. (We expect them to be ready mid-late May.) Just send us an email or give us a call if you're interested or have any questions.**

Done!

Our roof is finally done!

(with the exception of snowbirds to keep the snow and ice from sliding off the roof onto us as we go in and out...)

It was a (very) long process, but we are happy to be snug and dry once more and for a long time to come.

Hooray for Fall!

It's been a little while since the last update, so here are some things going on around the homestead lately:

:: With much help (thank you!) we were able to finish our part of the roof project two weekends ago. The chimney work was (mostly) done last week, and we're told the roofer is fabricating the pieces for the new roof this week, hopefully to begin installation next week.

:: The garden is about done, with the exception of carrots still in the ground, drying beans drying on the vines, some last tomatoes and the potatoes we can't get to while the bees are flying (note: it is not advised to plant crops you would like to harvest (safely) directly in front of active bee hives.) It was a rather disappointing year for the garden after a promising start. The real champions were the peppers this year, which did far better than ever before. Otherwise...Next year will be better....

:: The bees seem to be doing well and Jim is itching to get back in the hives to check on them. Last inspection instead of frames and frames of honey he discovered most of the honey eaten and prodigious quantities of new bees. So we're anxious to see if we will indeed get the Fall honey harvest we were hoping for.

:: On the egg front we're barely keeping up with demand, which is great, in that more people are getting interested in buying our eggs and we have the opportunity to share the goodness further. But we're scrambling to keep up. The new layers we got over the summer should be starting to lay soon (just as the one-year-olds start slowing down for the winter). To keep up, we're looking at adding some more girls to our flock.

:: The meat birds are down to 22 in number, and those that are left seem to be doing well and are indeed meaty. They are hefty girls who, it seems, weigh just as much as the full-grown layers. Over the weekend we staked out a fence by the woods and moved the tractor inside there so that we can open it up during the day and let them wander as far as they choose (which, we're finding, is not very far).

:: Jim has done quite a lot of work in the orchard and only has two more trees to drop. Lots to cut up and move, but he's made some great progress and we're still hoping to get to a point by winter that it will be in a good place for planting next year.

:: We haven't been able to do as much preserving this year as I would have liked. Due to a few things it just hasn't worked out. But we did get a good batch of peaches canned, I'm working on freezing most of our great crop of peppers, we had quite a good time picking lots and lots of blueberries and some raspberries as well. This past weekend picked quite a few apples, too, which are now waiting to be made into sauce and butter and dried apples, not to mention a few pies and crisps.

And that's a small bit of what we've been up to. There is never a dull moment! And as always, though we may not be as good at keeping in touch as we would like, we always enjoy hearing what you're up to as well!

Roof Project 2010 - Update 1

Before.

During.

After.

And Aftermath.

A busy Saturday.

(Not yet pictured, the whole back side covered in underlayment in preparation for the new roof - A busy Sunday.)

Thanks to our "volunteer" workers! We couldn't have done it without you!

Next: The front side of the house.

Roof Project 2010

If any of you were around for the roofing project we did on the last house, you know we tore off two layers of asphalt shingle, filling more than a whole dumpster. We also installed all the underlayment, cut a ridge vent and covered all the many hips, valleys, and ridges with shingles. It was a 9 day frenzy at the hottest part of the year.

Well, we seem to buy houses that need new roofs. Well, at least each one we buy needs one.

This time it's different. We're doing the tear-off of cedar shakes and paying a roofer to install a metal roof. Cedar shakes are lightweight. There are NO valleys or hips, and just one ridge. It's going to be 70 degrees instead of 90. We think it'll take four days, so we're doing it over the next two weekends (9/4-9/5 and 9/11-9/12). It needs to be done before the winter because the current roof won't make it. Our roofer says he can do it in Sept if we can.

So wish us luck and safe working, and, if you are feeling adventurous and want to help out, we won't turn down the help! See our house.... heck see areas of our house WE haven't even seen yet, like whatever is under those cedar shakes.

This Place

I had just come home from a meeting that left me feeling drained and discouraged. It was a meeting of a group of presumably like-minded moms, yet not for the first time I found myself with the uneasy feeling of not fitting in and having wasted a precious evening away. When I got home it was to laundry still on the line and the choice of giving in to the discouragement and leaving it right where it was (and risking not having anything decent to wear the next day…) or mustering my last reserves and bringing it in off the line.

After dropping my things inside, I dragged myself back out and up onto the patio wall to reach the lines. I quite enjoy my clothes lines. They are rigged up with pulleys, making them easy (and yes, a bit fun) to use. The freshness is a small joy, and the rhythm of pinning up or taking down is – if not soothing – then reassuring somehow. Squeeze-squeeze-squeeze-squeeze, shake out clothes, drop in basket, pins in bucket, reel it in.

And so I started, pausing now and then to look around. There are no lights on the patio, or there is one, but we never think to use it. It wasn’t long before I felt a sense of being cradled, encircled. The steady drone of crickets, the warm summer-night air, the garden, trees, fields, the moon above the trees to my left and the stars in the deep purple sky. And (looking past the lit-up clutter of the porch), I could see some favorite corners of the house: a bit of the built-in bookshelves filled with goodness, part of the pipe leading from the woodstove to the chimney and the warm bricks of the hearth behind. Glimpses of things loved and the potential for inspiration and comfort.

This is our homestead. It is solid and settled. It is in no hurry, it surrounds us and supports us. It has been here for nearly 200 years, and unknown (to us) caretakers, and now it is our turn: to live in its walls and land, to be nurtured and grown by it and to nurture and grow it in return. There have been and surely will be not a few nights or days of discouragement and the like. But I’m slowly learning that those are temporary and part of the journey, and that there is gentleness and comfort to be had in this place, if I can be open to it.

I’m glad I mustered the will to finish the laundry.