Bringing It On

 Polly the Pyranees wishes everyone a Happy New Year!

There are stories to be told, those of horse riding, goat milking, horse shoeing, new farm friends, and other general mayhem. But time travels too fast around here, and we all stand on the edge of another new year.

Away from this quiet place, amidst family and furry friends,  the world rumbles. My other home lies in the urban jungle, the original “occupy” site, a place both glorious and desperate. Returning there holds so much uncertainty, as does so much else in the world.  What does the New Year hold for all of us, humans sometimes destructive but always so fragile, and capable of so much goodness? And where do I fit into all of it?

This past year has been topsy-turvy: I’ve gotten engaged, had my art and beekeeping work published, run myself ragged at a crazy New York job, became the ultimate worker bee(keeper), gone to Iowa (twice!) to teach beekeeping and to learn a lot more, gone to upstate New York, and created the potential for a farming life and job. Of course, there were horse training lessons and other equine moments. It’s been a tumultuous and exciting time….

I think of these sorts of things often, and my place in this rodeo ride called life. If I were to listen to Mama’s idea of Life, her box of chocolates involves examining your purpose on the planet. Using this map, I hope to continue on this little path I’m already on: art, animals, and adventure always seem to trump all other issues and problems and hey, they keep things interesting.

There are things in this next year that are certain:  There is a wedding to plan. There are new jobs to (hopefully) get.  There might even be a move out of the city. I also realize this: I love this little horse-drawn-vagabond project and I hope to at least have these adventures documented and online once a month. Cross your fingers,  folks, as we are slowly but surely getting the filming together!

Beyond this, there are the requisite dieting resolutions, but there are also plans to help people and animals, increasing self-sustainability skills, and upping the ante on ideas of farming. Hopefully somewhere in there I’ll FINALLY learn to properly knit, and play the violin--err, fiddle.  I know it won't save the world, but with a little luck, it might add some sunshine to a small corner of the world, the four walls of the life I call home.

Amidst it all, there are good wishes for current and future friends. My your own path lead you to contentment and dreams fulfilled. I have been blessed to know creative, imaginative, determined and ingenious people.

What are your New Year's wishes? How will you be bringing it in and bring it on?

Keep up your great works and above all….

SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMONDS!

Dream All You Dreamers

This post is part of The Renegade Farmer Farmhouse Fridays.

See more Farmhouse Fridays HERE

It's not snowing here, but walking a large snow dog around a neighborhood festooned with bright holiday lights and smelling chimney smoke, there is nothing but nostalgic Christmas here.

There is a certain kind of magic at our house, though there won't be any presents given. Instead the gifts are in the humans and animals around here.  What gifts are in your life?

This post is for my parents...people from far away, countries that have seen too much strife. My parents are from that Great Generation, who never lived privileged, went through wars and famine, and were still successful beyond their dreams. Every time I think I should throw in the towel, I realize how trivial my problems are: my parents really are the type who could walk through a blizzard for 20 miles with no shoes, and not complain. I could only hope that any part of my life is something to make them proud of.

This post is for my sister, my great friend and conspirator. Which would be hilarious because we are the most diametrically opposed two siblings you'd ever meet. She is clearly the more sensible and practical sister, which I am grateful for, because SOMEONE needs to root this crazy balloon adventure of a sister down! She was always the shy one while I was the one going out on a limb but for some reason, hair pulling level craziness was never achieved between us.

Speaking of which, how did I get so lucky to find a guy who looked at this circus caravan of my life and STILL MANAGED to hang on for dear life. While that might be hyperbole to some degree, I don't know many people who wake up to beekeeping and drawing one day, massive housecleaning, hormones, chocolate on another, and film making and dance on yet another day, and find ANY of this normal.
The Sweetheart in my life looked at this and though "let's give it a shot." Every time I've turned around he's been there, helping me, and wanted me to succeed.  I will say he has but one flaw: he's stolen...my heart.

Stealing hearts also belonged to the many pets in my life. To those sweet, kind and whip-smart animals, past and present, I wish love and peace. They have taught me so much, brought so much grace and laughter and more. What would life be without animals, wild, domestic, dramatic or friendly? We are blessed by the Universe for such amazing diversity amongst ourselves.

And this post is for you, dear friends. To ALL of you, creative, funny, amazing folk who are following your own amazing paths. Whether you have encouraged me or even if we have disagreed with me at times, I appreciate all of your challenges, your good wishes and your comraderie.  And for those who have been so kind as to buy my little handmade creations or honey...you are simply a blessing!  My thanks to you is HERE, but I have no problem saying THANK YOU and I AM AMAZED by your patronage and support of those things I love doing. You are helping my little dreams come true, and I hope your dreams come true, too!

And here's to wishing you a Magical Winter Season and Blessed Holidays full of warmth and wisdom.
As always ~Dream All You Dreamers~

Vagabond Chronicles 2: The Cart AFTER the Horse.....

Sometimes the biggest dreams come in the smallest packages. This might be true on many levels in this next story.

I have been outwitted by a small horse, one no taller than my waist. And I loved every minute of  it. This was part of a small dream, one that doesn't involve awards, accolades, large sums of money, power, or any of the other trappings that people talk about in grandiose terms, when talking big dreams. This isn't walking on the moon, Folks. Nope. This past Friday I FINALLY got to properly drive a horse and cart.


This little dream began a few months and miles away from this Southern locale in Christmas;  my Long Island friends Kat and Alyse started this journey by teaching me ground rules and training with horses early this year. I learned ground driving and riding, and longed for more.

Now, I would continue this love affair in a small Florida town with Mr. Pete and his wife, Charley---two dramatically different counterparts to my young city female trainers--so appropriately Southern that it didn't occur to me to use anything other than "Mister" in front of Pete Mack's name, and call Charley anything other than "ma'am."

Mr. Pete was one of those old-fashioned codgers who "talked plain" and "told it straight", an older gentleman who embodied the old South. He was a bit gruff around the edges, with tons of stories about farming, rodeo-ing, and Southern gossip.  He'd  spent 40 years breaking horses--or rather, having horses break him, literally: he's already broken on leg in five places when a horse fell on him, and when I went to my first lesson, he'd broken that same leg again. Unbelievably, he neither told me he broken the leg, or went to the hospital. And as much as I'd insisted he should go, he refused, saying he "did this all the time" and saying he wanted to meet me. He and his wife had wrapped the leg heavily, saying the doctor wouldn't see him until Monday, anyhow.  I was shocked that he didn't seem in pain at all, though he did have Charley, also an experienced horse person for 15 years, lead me through the day's lesson at their farm, a place that housed 10 horses of various sizes, breeds, and colors.

That lesson involved a munchkin horse with a big heart, who taught very big lessons. One could chuckle at her name (Princess) and her small stature (she was a larger sized miniature horse), but boy, was she a handful--not because she was ill-behaved, but due to my lack of experience.

After we brought around the pony to the area where we would dress her for driving, Charley instructed me to groom her down in order to make sure my little charge had no burrs or other items in her coat that might irritate her once all of her trappings were on her. In this way we would avoid any possible spooking should something stick or sting her while driving. This seemed simple enough.

Not so simple, however: checking the feet for stones or other objects. I was given a hoof pick and instructed on how to lift the little horse's legs. Mind you, this pony was maybe 13 hands--her hooves were easy to lift and fit comfortably in my hands. The problem was yours truly--this was my first time actually working with horses feet and I was ackward with it. Princess was good natured about it and gently would sidestep my efforts until I perfected holding each hoof and gently using the pick to remove dirt from each of them, checking for stones and debris.

After this was done, Charley fetched the driving equipment. These were a touchstone for me: I had long been fascinated and frustrated with what seemed like a jumble of lines, fasteners, clips and strips, with no idea of how to make sense of any of it. After a few long moments of slowly applying the harnessing, I can now tell you how to apply the bit, blinders, driving reins, and breast plate, though I will need a few more lessons before I'm comfortable with all the bells and whistles on driving gear.

Once we had attached a two-wheeled forecart to the harness gear, the second part of the adventure began. Charley and I hopped into the cart, where Charley showed me how to hold the lines for the best control. After an initially driving, Charley handed the whole thing over to me. We had gone to the front of their property, a grassy section along their quiet road. I quickly had to learn to adjust the tension and turn as Princess tended to weave instead of consistently staying in a straight line. I also learned how to trot Princess and turn right and left....

Yeah, speaking about that. Turning isn't as easy as it seems. I'm sure I've committed one of many a common student mistake by turning too sharply.  This manifested itself in my first attempt in turning right: as we passed a tree... Charley instructed me to turn right, and pass onto the pathway home. I did, but had done it so tightly that we ran right over the tree's overgrown roots, nearly toppling us! I can't help but think that Princess might be laughing at the silly, wild-haired human in the back.

Hey, but there's credit in regaining the situation, right? I managed to whoa the jostled horse and calm the more jostled passengers, and then continued on and driven us back to our original spot, meeting up with Mr. Pete, who was still seated on the porch, broken leg and all, waiting for us. His verdict, after Charley told him about our escapades: "you're alright, but you need more schooling."  I couldn't agree more, and was excited for another lesson, which is scheduled in a week.

We unhitched the horse and led her back to the pasture. She was a sweet good-natured horse, a kind a patient teacher. She had a mischievous side, of course, as equines are wont to do, but she was doing a great job teaching this foolish two-legged a thing about horse sense.

I walked away from my first horse-driving lesson with a smile on my face and more knowledge than I knew what to do with....but this much I knew:  never underestimate a pint sized horse.
Like all horses, they have huge hearts and, whether they know it or not, they teach people both big and little things, horsemanship being just the beginning..

New Flash!

This post is part of The Renegade Farmer's Farmhouse Friday.

Lucky Day!

A friend of the family has just referred me to a local horseman who teaches riding AND driving. I'll be going out to him today. Mr. Pete is an old time horseman with eleven horses on his property. I am off to see him about a smart pony and carriage situation and to see if I can figure out how to master it.

Wish me luck. Mr. Pete is old-fashioned and I have no idea how this hippie-haired girl is going to make out...but I'm excited!

More soon!

An Ordinary Day

It's 80 degrees Fahrenheit.  In December. In Florida, of course. It's an ordinary day, as simple and stunning as the others.

I have traversed the East coast, from North to South, for this holiday story. This is a tale as simple as a Wintertide visit to my parents, but it also involves rediscovering so much more.

In this place there is much to see an do. There are the bygone Christmas gestures, probably made more authentic in purpose because this year, we will not be giving any gifts. This is an extension of last year's pledge, at least on my end as the creative daughter, to hand-make all of the presents. With a little prep-work and planning, that little dream did come true. However, what's become clear this year that we simply don't need gifts and, in fact, we have a surplus of goods at our house; my BLOG SALE (they are here and here)  is not only one little way for me to fund the farm-and-horse-and-wag

Save Now

on-tour, but one way to help clear the house of "too much of a good thing."

Even without the holiday gift hustling, there is still frenetic energy here, as I've extended my art making to the yearly to do list.

These two go off to visit a publisher:

The Owl and The Pussy-Cat, in wood....

Springtime Art Doll Rabbit....

And this wood burned spoon is the very last creation  of the year, and will be up for sale tomorrow:

Does it seem strange that I'm a bit melancholy over the finishing of this last piece of the year? I do enjoy creating these humble art pieces, but  this self-imposed deadline will allow me to actually enjoy the holidays in their present moments. This means a high mix of emotions.....

There is sublime splendor, with a certain bit of poignancy. Every year I return, I am awed at how my parents--the giants who took care of me with strong hands--seem more and more impossibly frail. Even now, there is something sobering in dealing with these wizened people in their third act, and realizing we all, young,  are destined to follow in the slow footsteps towards elderliness. It is precious, this holiday, a time to hold the flesh-and-blood people who may simply become a memory at any moment.

There is unyeilding kindness, which I think has been rattled out of the world, lately. Call me an idealist, but so much seems rough 'round the edges, the ethics and ethos of people are...well, I don't know, but I find it startling when even Christmas has become controversial.

In this house Christmas and  in fact, every day, revolves around and involves much of the world. Our family tree has some long and interesting roots, folks. You can traverse various continents, histories, and stories along them. That long gypsy path meant that somewhere, some one--or many--had to overlook differences in culture, language and customs, and learn to love and work with other people.

Christmas here is no different. Our nostalgia embraces many religions and traditions, the Olde European, the Pagan, Christian, Jewish and "folken" ways. All of them seem as legitimate as the next.

We bake highly sugared foods that my mother and her mother have baked, recipes with a hundred year European pedigree. We watch Christmas fare on television, play old Nat King Cole Christmas tunes. The Christmas tree has been festooned with heirloom ornaments. We will celebrate the season as we have always celebrated; my mother, raised amongst her Roman Catholic brethren, will watch Midnight Mass and we will join her, we will say "Happy Chanukkah" to our Jewish friends, and attend Kwanzaa celebration with our friends who celebrate that fine holiday. We will sing old fashioned carols too loud, and most probably out of pitch.  We will help my mother clean the forever dusty house, herding dust bunnies to the best of our abilities. We will go across the street, to the little forest there, and try to procure a Yule log. We will eat and laugh too much. You see, Christmas is for everyone, everywhere, and about many holidays, many traditions, many beliefs, from it's old Pagan Yule,past,  to it's German Christmas tree origins, to it's modern versions. As practiced in kindeness, I feel in my heart it is all right....and it is alright.

Somewhere in there, I will find some time aboard a large, kind horse and I will learn to ride in style. I've already sent out a few ads, but I am sad to say not lots of folks are biting: one stable even mentioned they stopped teaching lessons because, due to the economy, most of their students had to give up their horses, and it made no financial sense to continue training when no one was requesting it.

But all is not lost. In the meantime, I'm taking this big fuzzball--Polly, the adopted Pyranees--out on our ritual walks.

She's one of a long line of rescued beauties in our household, and she is  walked around our Southern family neighborhood, when either my sister and I are home. We walk past staid houses and manicured lawns.  But turn the corner and we pass a pond filled with ducks...a large open field with golden scrubby fauna and then...off to the right, you'll hear it: the lowing of a cow behind a large wood fence, and the wonky sound of a young rooster trying out his new grown up voice. Somewhere, only two blocks away, someone has a mini-farm.  I laugh. This definitely ain't New York City, folks.  I dream of my own farms, and what amazing things will happen behind fences, fences opened for people and animals, near and far...

It is the magic of my every day, an Ordinary Day....

Leaving On A Jet Plane....

 By the time you read this, I will be gone.

Yes, I'll be launched into the air on some might steel steed with wings, propelling forward to Florida for a month of family holidaying the likes of which I probably haven't known since childhood. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I've been home for an entire 30 days and nights, and I don't know whether to be afraid, or excited.

Knowing Mama, she will make it as old-fashioned as possible, so I'm not quite unnerved. It's actually the "after" part that I dread. There is a whole lot up in the air, I am changing jobs, probably changing addresses and who-knows-what. Again, I don't know whether to be excited, or scared.

In the interim, the Horse Drawn Project, along with so much, moves forward:

I will be having a BLOG sale HERE which includes a bunch of handmade goodies AND old-time goodies that I've been collecting for YEARS. Hop on by DECEMBER 8th for some great items at good prices.

You can also support my little crazy life and ideas by buying from my little Etsy Shoppe. Lots of old fashioned hand made magical items are always looking for good homes...(such as the fellow in the pic at the top of this post).

And, as always, I'll keep you posted on the zany adventures as I fly-by-the-seat of my pants!

Happy Holidays!

It's All On Film!

I should probably ask for a drum roll, please...

So I mentioned in yesterday's post about the "secret sauce" and this little enigma of mine. You may remember, waaaay back when---which seems archaic now, but was probably a couple of weeks ago---that I was still moving forward with the horse drawn wagon tour, and that I wasn't sure whether to document it or not...

Turns out, I'd sort of been doing it the whole time--the documenting, that is. For some time, I'd been recording my little NON-horseless tour, and all my efforts in prepping for it, for fun and for posterity, sort of like the grandparents pulling out their '85 slideshow pics of the big Vacation in Cancun.

Once I got to downloading it all, a few folks mentioned that it sort of worked with what I was already doing. Add in a mix of a few bits of my already crazy city extra curricular activities and....


Well...you tell me...since I've finally decided to take the plunge..

HERE, now, is the official BEYOND VAGABOND TRAILER (which also kickstarts our actual little project!)

What does this mean? I'm still not 100% sure of the logistics, but I know the next step is selling a few things both to help with moving next year, and generate a few greenbacks in my pocket.

So stay tuned HERE on December 8th as I offer up some interesting things in a BLOG SALE!

The Secret's in The Sauce...

  Home: Where the Heart Is...

Whoa, Nelly!

A week ago, I regaled you with notions that I had a super-duper secret to share with you and that--wonder of wonders--I would do this within days.  Of course, knocking on wood would have been the smart choice at that time and, of course, I conveniently forgot to do that very thing...and THAT, I'm sure, led to any number of small misfortunes.... which in turn has made me VERY late in showing you my secret little surprise.

In other words: curses, foiled again!

HOWEVER, I am putting the finishing touches on my little secret, and so PLEASE DO tune in tomorrow...as the secret in the sauce recipe for this little adventure will soon come to light!

In the meantime, how are you preparing for Winter? Here, the Fidgety Season begins, as any number of indoor projects are lined up, the bees on our rooftop are finally wrapped up snuggly against the colder temperatures, art is made, finished and happily sold for the holidays, and the trip to my family's home is finally made. However, it's a matter of pacing, chomping at the bit, to get to the good parts of this frosty season's adventures.

I am looking forward to seriously wild times at my parents' abode--insane things like: learning to knit, helping my mother with our traditional pastry cooking, singing, (finally) learning to play the violin properly (or rather, IMproperly, as I'm actually trying to fiddle), more art, walking the family's Pyranees, sitting and telling stories and--heaven help us!---sleeping in. Maybe even past noon. Yes, someone seriously needs to call the cops on me. I am clearly going to be trouble this holiday season!

From there, hopefully there is news that will lead to big changes. Plans of weddings, houses, and crazy dreams of owning a bit of Earth and cultivating it. Shockingly, there might even be things grown and then EATEN there, animals friends brought, old-time skills learned, and maybe even events that involve friends and friends not yet met. As I said, I'm a fallen woman...I have high-falutin' plans, yes indeedy...apparently, I've eaten too much secret sauce!

See me tomorrow,  and you will know more about the secret, too!