TORPEDO LEVELERS AND A BRAND SPANKIN NEW PRESIDENT...

Ahoy fellow American Friendships.
Or Ahoy blog page that I have so intentionally ignored for a few months. I have been expressing my thoughts more creatively and on a direct social level, instead of the usual introspective memoirs.

Which means, I've been busy, a new kind of busy..... NO.... not that kind, well maybe a little bit... OK, not at all, but I've got some things in the works. Enough about my love life, let's talk about something with substance... like.... drumroll please....
BARACK OBAMA!!!
Wooooohooo!

I was working at one of my fourteen jobs on election night, the job that requires me to serve alcohol to a massive amount of alcohol dependent Portlanders, that I love dearly, but for crying out loud, need to find a hobby that doesn't take such a toll on the liver. But who am I to judge? Anywho, the reason for my childish excitement, (besides the fact that I have ADHD), is not because I think everything is solved now, and our nation will now unite in to a harmonious community relieving ourselves of industrial revolution attachments and developments, or that we are now going to all get along, and any trace of racism, sexism, or class wars will now be but a vapor and fallen tribulation of the past. Or even for that matter, that now, finally, children will be raised in schools where they are taught how to grow food, create shelter, and trade goods in order to create sustainability within their own ecosystems... Or even that we, as a whole, will develop a human sense of priority among our international cohorts, and there will be a liberation of all those who are oppressed, held captive, or stuck in a set of laws that create boundaries around their need and god (or what have you) given right to share, think, feel, and be pro-active about whatever lights or plays their inner music. Or that factory farms and industrial raised "food" will all be taken down, step by step, and we will fall in to a trade system once so wisely used involving wild game, handmade goods, and for the love of God (or what have you), wooden...educational...basic...handmade.... toys. STORYTELLING WILL COME BACK TO LIFE! OUR CHILDREN WILL HELP WITH THE DAILY CHORES! THE OCEANS WILL BE CLEAN! ALL SPECIES WILL HAVE A SAFE ENVIRONMENT TO ONCE AGAIN CREATE A FOOD CHAIN THAT ISN'T INFLUENCED BY OUR NEED FOR MORE MORE MORE MORE!!! THREE CAR GARAGES WILL BE USED TRANSFORMED IN TO WORKSHOPS, LIVING QUARTERS, MANGERS, AND EVERYONE WILL LIVE CLOSE ENOUGH TO WORK TO BIKE OR WALK! WOMEN WILL BE ONLY ALLOWED TO WEAR DRESSES, AND MEN CAN HAVE THREE WIVES!!!!

ok... that last part is a joke.. I was getting a little ahead of myself. Although, a dress wouldn't hurt me once in a while, it would just get in the way when I'm crawling under the house, and building the coolest tree house ever.

No, I understand that this historic moment, where the first black president was elected, does not mean these ideals and values, and pipe dreams of my own will all surface in my lifetime. I know that some things have come too far, to go back to how they were before the revolution. And that is okay, it's my pipe dream, and I'm quite fond of it... And it gives me a lot of things to daydream about, and take part in in the way I live my life, and the things that I choose to learn, and how I hold myself within my own community. The challenges that I accept, and the ones that I pass on in honor of my own ability, and lack of such in larger things. I prefer to work on the small scale, and only when I feel confident enough, then will I start thinking about how I can effect change on the other side of the world. (Although good thoughts, and positive energy is a constant impact that is powerful on a large scale, therein I effect change by how I think, and what I feel and release)... as it is for all of us.
So think good thoughts for me dammit... Or I will not let you play in the tree house.

Um... so, however, about Obama. I think this is a big step for us. For the first time in my life I felt good about being an American, or titling myself as such. For the first time, I was proud of the majority voters, and I was inspired by the things that our future president said. I want him to know that I will be one of those who does not forget that it is a constant force of work and progress to grow as a country, and to communicate among one another in order to spread peace and knowledge, and create change in a scarred and understimulated population.

I'll have to write more later... But I love my class, so much I can't believe it. I am a sponge for learning right now, completely exhausted, but a sponge nonetheless.
I just had a flashback to a Seinfeld episode.... HA HA HA HA.... oh that Elaine, she cracks my shit up.

Love and Blessings,
and kisses and such,
Virginia

Stop Diablo Canyon

I sit here, in my rocking chair, in my wonderful sanctuary of a room, thinking about the last two days.
I went to the Jackson Browne concert last night. I went with my one ticket, armored with the strong woman "I can go stag and be fine with it", mentality that I have carried on a handful of occasions. There's nothing wrong with going to a movie, a benefit, a play, or a concert by yourself... And I've done it before, so no big deal, right? Well, I was partially right. I have been so jazzed about seeing Jackson live again, that I could give a monkey's uncle whether I was accompanied by anyone. In fact, I'd rather go alone, because I don't know anyone besides my Papa that would celebrate it more. Perhaps that was where the emotions got cornered in. The last time I saw Jackson Browne was when I surprised my Dad with tickets for his 50th birthday.
That's another story. But Jackson Browne's music and lyrics are very close to my heart, and he will always be one of those top 5 singer/songwriters that can break, and melt my heart in the same song.
I thoroughly enjoyed the show, and chatted with other fans sitting near me about previous concerts, how we love Jackson, and all that yummy stuff.
Afterwards, I took a little pity party walk around downtown Portland, in my favorite cowboy boots, my nice jeans, and my long black dress coat.... hey, you know I had to dress up, it's not every day that I take myself out on a nice date.
It was beautiful night, and I was glad to be alone with my thoughts, singing softly to myself the music still in my head from the show.
I wandered in to Hubers, Portland's oldest restaurant, to try one of their world famous Spanish coffee's for the first time. It was a splendid treat, and a nice atmosphere, I felt like I was in the shining, and it was perfect suited for the prior nights happenings. I sat with my crossword from earlier in the day, and embraced all the quiet chatter and laughter from the couples and small groups still left in the bar from the nights dinner rush.
I ended up conversing with an older man, and is son, (about my age), who had just come from the concert as well, and then was given crossword support by a debonair man in his late 70's and his younger partner, both darling in the most unconventional and old-fashioned ways... together we finished the cross word, and I felt accomplished in my little moment of glory.
I then bummed a cigarette from my lovely bartender, Leo, and went outside for some "not so fresh" air... That was when Vicki and Max walked by. Vicki is a long time vendor for street roots. Max is her little dog, and I used to see them a lot more often down at the office. I haven't been down there since I moved back home, and it was really refreshing to see her and Max. She was so dear to me, and handed me a card with a dove on it that read "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE TO THOSE WHO BELIEVE... MARK 8:23" "EXPECT A MIRACLE"
She is so wonderful, always smiling, always warm and kind, and one of the hardest workers I've ever met. I tell you what, I would bet 700 billion dollars that Max is one of the most loved, and most content and fulfilled dogs in this world.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Peace and num nums...
Virginia

Fear and Loathing in NE Portland Metro

I watched the movie Gonzo last night.
My phenomonal human being of a housemate, Jude, came along, and we seriously got down on some popcorn. I figured we could have dropped some acid and brought a couple of fifths along in honor of the late Hunter S. Thompson, but then we might not get the full intensity of the documentary.
You have to hand it to him... he was passionate, he was a bionic, fully functioning addict, and he was passionate... He walked the talk, and he composed himself in a manner that was somehow an expression of the anger he had towards the development of classism, racism, and greed.
He gave a damn, enough to share it with others.... It's like he had a little jar of ink... totally full, sitting there... And he knew every fucking thing about that ink, he knew it so well, and he had a million different ways to describe it, he knew it backwards, the taste, smell, sensation on your skin, every damn thing about the ink, and others knew of the inks existence, but didn't really know how to acknowledge it, or how to ask permission to look at it or touch it, and were afraid to tell other people that they desired to see and touch, or maybe even sip on the ink... So they just kept pretending like they weren't interested..

So then Hunter took that bottle of ink, blew the lid off with most likely a firearm, and dumped the ink all over ground, and on top of the highest hill, so that everyone would start to see little bits of it spilling past... they could see a glimpse of what they desired to talk about or taste, but they still didnt' share with others about their own excitement or passions, or about the feelings they were having about this new substance that had appeared. They just looked up the hill at Hunter and smiled...
And then they went in their rooms, packed their shit in to a bag, and took off in search of where this ink might be headed... It was better than bullshitting with their folks, and all the narrow minded jerkoffs that didnt' know any better that they blah blahed with on a daily fuckin basis.

Hunter didn't know the formula for the ink, and he didn't even know if the ink should exist, or if it was a toxic substance created out of possession and greed that formed in to a democracy... of fat lifeless bloodsuckers..

Ok, yikes, I'm going to backtrack a bit, I started this entry tonight becasue I was feeling inspired, and delighted to be around people whom I value so much, and people whom I value their values so much.
As well as, it's nice to find harmony within severe differences of myself and people whom I don't find common heart strings with.

I love my Mother for being who she is... for wanting to take care of everyone else, and is the rock of a large family for compassion, shelter, and words of caring and love. I love that my Mom and I are not similar, and that we are finding a harmony in our relationship... Finding peace among broken pieces, and walking that course when daughters become women in a world unlike their Mother's when they were in their saturn return (yay Tina!)

I love my new friend Jude, for demonstrating strength, agility, balanced living, and inspiration to so many others who look up to her, especially young women who are told and shown that they aren't meant to achieve in such a way. She doesn't even know that she is constantly living the life of a role model, and that's part of what makes her shine...

I love my sister for no matter what, even when I'm crazy busy and have lost my phone for the 97th time, and haven't called her back in weeks, still somehow finds a way to let me know that she just thinks I'm beautiful and misses me... She finds time to break and melt my heart. I love her so much, it breaks because she's not next door, but it melts because her smile and thoughts reach across the world, no matter where we are, or where we will be tomorrow.

I love my dearest friend Neil, who will never know how perfectly disastrously beautiful he is. I desire to be in his company because of the truest form of human he is, and how it challenges my present existence. How he allows me to be a child, and facilitates my neivity in ways that become opportunities for growth and the unveiling of social justice issues. His patience is an expression of his love, at least that's how I interpret it. He let's me stay 20 percent flighty, yet grounds me by the simplist of comments, in a way that only a kindred spirit could. His soul is emminently powerful and will forever be shadowed by nothing but the most ancient of trees...

I love my darling girl Tina at the Gypsy Cafe, as well as the other women there, but Tina has made efforts lately to communicate with me, and I find myself desiring to communicate back, which is unusual for me. I am the classic case of "Hey whatcha been up to?? Gotta go, let's hang some time..." and then never do, because what I really meant to say was, "Hey, you don't light my fire, and you don't care about anything I've done since 1998, so let's just drift, and let the tides decide if we should meet again."
But with this group of women, and with Tina, I am verifiably interested in what she has to say, and what she's getting in to. It all goes back to that value system. She is good for the Earth, and she is full of love and joy, and breeds and shares nothing but words of personal growth, eternal wisdom, and youthful and physical embracement of the elements and the sexuality of this ancient world. I love her like I love the way how Maggie's brow is warm and soft after a long nap, and how a baby watches and giggles at their older sibling when they do silly things, and how cute newborn peppers are when they start to bud, and how the lakes and ponds freeze over at 1000 acres during the winter, and we can walk for what seems like forever in to an unknown forest on ice.

I love you all like Jimmy Buffet likes Margaritas...
fins to the left... fins to the right...
Night Night.
.....aaaaaaaa

Noche, Bigfoot, and Pizza on the floor.

It's been a while since my last blog.
I finished up my two weeks at the gypsy cafe with an open invitation to return, and a sad farewell. I was leaving women that I had known less than a month, but we spoke and breathed as if we'd known eachother distantly for years.... a familiarity in the atmosphere that I will always remember.
Maggie and I said our goodbyes to Noche. We knew he had been sick the last few days that we were there. He was 14, and had lived a very full and free existence, his eyes were full of life, but the kind of life that is ready to leave this place. It was hard to say goodbye to him, but I knew it wasn't permanent. He passed about a week later, and my heart goes out to Tina, he was her companion and soul mate, and I know she is heart sick. Her and Barb placed Noche near the garden we built, just outside her door. I love you Tina, Noch will look and watch over you now, as your gaurdian, as you did him during his time here.

I left the cafe, and took off for california. Stopped by a farm in the middle of nowhere, and bought a peach from the most beautiful 80 year old woman I've ever seen.... I'm telling you, farming keeps you young, either that or she is hiding the fountain of youth on their property somewheres.
I also stopped by a place where they sell burlwood, as well as a large collection of individually unique pieces of burl furniture, clocks, decorations, etc... .the most beautiful functional art pieces I've ever seen. They also had ginormous tree houses that looked like they belonged in Alice in Wonderland and Swiss Family Robinson... I'd live in that shit, that's for damn sure.

Mags and I got in to the redwoods a little later than we would have liked, and it was starting to get dark... So being that niether of us had any clue where we were, we went to where we felt the safest, and camped at a pretty standard and accessible, somewhat populated campground/state park. We still had a large spot all our own, and a private view in the morning, but close enough to others to feel a bit more grounded.

We went in to stout grove and the back road to crescent city in the morning. It was nice because we headed out so early that the fog and mist were there the whole time we were in the woods. AMAZING.

We drove up the coast and stopped at a few different spots... I was planning on heading to Nevada from the redwoods, but smarty pants here left her bike and the Gypsy Cafe, so the girls agreed to bring it to Coquille on tuesday, which is near the coast, and I would meet them there, at the Cob Cottage to pick up the hooptie.

This way, I got to visit cob cottage, and see the ladies again, so it was a double whammy. The pictures of the property in Coquille don't even touch on, whisper at, or breeze past the intense beauty and sanctity of this place. I continue to be fascinated by what people create with their minds, and what their minds instruct their hands to do... That subtle transition, that faint intimacy of communication between your imagination and your phsyical actions, what your minds eye can emit to your senses and from there, sculpt on to paper, in to words, or in to three dimensional structures, just by the relationship between the body and mind..... unbelieveable, I feel like that is a pretty safe and fairly attainable yet challenging goal, to keep up that level of intimate language between my mind and body, and not cut off that love affair. And also, not to question or talk my mind out of things because my body is too tired to listen....
HA HA HA.... what a wonderful imagery that is in my head right now....
What's in yours? You should draw a picture of it!!!! Right now!!! Use colors! Only if you want to!

I'll write more later. I want to go draw a picture too.... and snuggle with my snoop doggy doggggggg.....

RACCOONS IN MY TENT.

FENDER GUITARS AND SIA’S INNER VOICE

I took a day off and went to Crater Lake yesterday.
I drove through a town called White City… as you’re driving in to town there is a large maple sign that reads in large, white letters… “WHITE CITY… THE BEST PLACE TO LIVE.”
Uh huh…. Interesting slogan. White City is a hop skip and a jump from the sprawling town of WEED… I had to stop and take a picture with the exit sign for that one, just for my brother.
Once I got in to Crater Lake park, there is a seven mile drive almost all uphill, windy and on a day like that, would not be much fun of a walk. I drove past a PCT hiker, did a loop back and stopped to give him a ride to the top. Being the bit of a chicken that I am, I circled back three times to get a good look at his face and gear before I finally offered him a ride. I figured I had to continue on the circle of love, since I had so many people give me rides on my way back from our hike earlier this year.
His name was Matt, and he was a very nice guy, he was hiking the trail alone, which is so out of my range of strength, I can’t begin to describe how much I look up to people who can do it like that.

I also ran in to a girl that I played softball with years ago. I recognized her parents at first… They were constant fixtures in the bleachers at all the games, and I remember her Momma keeping score for us quite frequently. None of them were very pleasant with me when I approached them to say hi and do a quick catch up on how life was going for her and so on and so forth… but maybe I just walked in at a bad time.
Either way, I enjoyed my visit to the lake, and the surprising comfort in a familiar face.
But I’ve always been kind a sucker for nostalgia… so there it is.

I then headed down highway 62 for about an hour and met up with my grandparents in Klamath Falls, Oregon. They are so cute, they have been married for 56 years, and look like a million dollars. After dinner I walked Mags to the nearby safeway and got some foor for the feast I’m making for everyone on Sunday, (my last day ☹ )

The safeway was very entertaining, and I liked the eclectic mix of townies… My favorite was an older, very attractive gentlemen darning Winnie the pooh sweatpants, a tazmanian devil t shirt, and a very large black leather fanny pack… I must say, if you’re gonna go for it, you might as well go all the way… And he nailed that outfit like he’d been planning it for weeks.
Bravo my friend…. Bravo.

We went to dinner at John and Dana’s tonight. John (Page) is an amazing custom furniture and guitar artist. He worked for fender for over 20 years, and now is building his own guitars and functional art out of his home and shop here in wolf creek. He is the one that makes the famous “Devil’s Tears” salsa.. I wanted to take some home so bad that they invited us for dinner tonight so we could watch and help him make it, and take some back with us.
Myshkin jammed on some of his amazingly detailed and brilliant electric guitars, and we all danced and caroused away the night.

We came home and Tina and I put on my favorite CD, and she helped me with a tarot reading… Inner Voice…… Inner Voice…. Inner Silence…

Sia’s song “Broken Biscuit”
Listen to that song… the lyrics are… well, they just are.

LOVE YOU ALL!!!! ☺
LOVE AND HUGS AND BIG FAT SLOBBER KISSES*.
*from Maggie.


TODAY August 6, 2008

Yesterday we weeded the neighbor lady’s garden… She’s pushin 90 and her garden looks like it’s on its way out too… However, we tore through that stuff, and she has herself some ripe harvest. We took all the fresh compost back to the café property because we needed some greens in our pile…

We went down ot Jeanie’s in grants pass again last night….
At the 55 and over trailor park…
Four of us girls completely cleaned up an 80 year old oak tree that had been cut down… but left in such a giant pile, and in such a mess, that we had to cut up the rest and de-terd all the branches… While being sexually harassed by jeanie’s estranged perverted of an old man husband…. Bleh… Can you tell he got to me? Anyway, after that we came home, drank some wine and jammed… Myshkin sang a song about trailor parks, the slimy and creepy men that live there, all of the under three pound dogs, and the vast excess of tarps… Long story, but very funny.

This morning we covered up all the straw bales and the exposed cob because there was call for a thunder/rain storm this afternoon.

A FEW GOOD WOMEN

The last few days have been exceptional. Every day is, but these last few were so foreign to me, as the last week has been entirely. The experiences I've been sharing here on this land, and on the surround earth have bloomed a piece of me that has been submersed till now. Yesterday started with a low dose of energy. There were a new batch of people here from the concert, who had stayed overnight and wanted to help on Myshkin's house. We had a new dog introduced to the pack of three, and many small fights emerged from his presence. He's a sweet dog, but violent by nature, and each dog had their own quarrel with him. Things calmed down by the second day, and we learned to keep an eye on things. The cob house is coming up so quick, it's really amazing to see the progress daily.

Every meal has been shared with a new community of people, food from the garden, and spirits from local sources. Pappy and I drove Margie home to grants pass last night, and I stopped to sit outside a coffee shop where there were a sleu of teenagers playing music and showing off their arm band tattoos to one another. I felt completly out of place, but absolutely comfortable and entertained at the same time.

Tina and I went to Ashland today to deliver the newspapers to the post office (Barb and Tina run a local/inernational women's ecological radical newspaper). We had lunch and brews at a local eatery, and walked around town and did some second hand shopping. I found, or I should say, it found me.... an old pendleton wool riding hat... It's perfect fit, perfect color, and I know I'll have it forever. We then took the long road back to the valley...

such a magnificent drive. Through Jacksonville, the Applegate Valley, and along the Rogue River. The skies were cloudy and smokey from the California fires, but it put a soft dampness in the air that was suprisingly calming. We drove through the big marijuana growing town of Williams, and in to Graci ... a small stop for the rafters of the Rogue River.

We took the one lane road back to the land, but not before we stopped in below the suspension bridge and dipped in to the river. the sun was just going down, and the bats were dancing aroung us and in the river, it was a moment I will remember for a very long time. I wont' try to describe it, but I felt as if I was invited there personally by the river and the surrounding mountains.... the bats and I together were celebrating and thanking mother earth for it's bounty of elements, and it's strength in the struggle to survive our bearance on her body.

We came home to a fresh cooked dinner by Myshkin and Brenin... Put on the kings of convenience, smoked some num nums.... and laughed and shared until just about half an hour ago, when Mags and I hit the hay.

LIFE IS GOOD.
LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU WERE TOO BUSY MAKING PLANS.
LIFE....
LIFE..
IS NOW.
AND NOW.
AND I'M GLAD YOU ARE HERE.

REMEMBER THE ABRAHAMS.
VIRGINIA.

GYPSY CAFE

GYPSY CAFÉ

Where do I start? Right now it’s a little after ten on Thursday night, and my typing is shadowed by the deep baying of a six year old beagle named buddy. Buddy likes to venture in to the woods in the late hours of the night and the wee hours of the morning and howl at whatever he deems howlable. He is has a constant blank look on his face, but the kind that makes you want to snuggle with him and shower him with kisses.

He isn’t the only critter on these 48 acres. Noche, a 14 year old pedigree and shit zu mix, claims the Gypsy Café as his home as well—no matter where you scratch him, he automatically plays the banjo until you stop. There’s also the two ginormous white cats, Little Bird, and Hapoo. And don’t forget the neighborhood peacock, Barbosa, who keeps up his exotic figure by sticking to a strict diet out of the organic garden that I’ve been working so hard to keep up.

Have you ever seen a peacock fly? It’s quite a sight. Almost like a phoenix… And Barbosa flies to the tops of some very tall trees.

There is so much life here.

It’s amazing how a four hour drive south from Northern Oregon transforms the landscape, and the climate, and the wildlife, and so on.

It’s ninety daily, it never rains, there are lizards everwhere. The soil is a highly compacted deep orange clay. Just picture a giant Burnt Sienna Crayola Crayon melted down and covered in forest. It’s perfect for building cob houses, which we have been doing a lot of.

The land is owned and wonderfully preserved by three women. Tina, Barb, and Myshkin.

Each have such amazing gifts and energy it is hard to really give light to their souls here.

We are working on Myshkin’s house right now. It has a rock foundation, and when finished will be a cob/strawbale home. It is a celebration to build a cob house. To mix it you have to stomp it with your bare feet, and we have had work crews here all week from the neighboring “Fairy Sanctuary”, so every day there are new people to dance in the mud with. From there you layer it on in giant clumps and sew it in to the cob layer below.

You can build a house out of the earth. It’s cheap, it’s beautiful, and you develop a relationship with your home. Plus, the surrounding wilderness is quite inviting, and more than willing to lend a few resources in the building process.

Myshkin is also a phenomenal musician. We have the treat of listening to her sing and play through the day, but especially in the evenings she’ll sit on the porch beneath the stars and privately jam. Her voice is so calming, and absolutely sparkling and pure… Yet deep and timeless. It’s like having my own personal Bille Holiday.

Barb and Tina run the WeMoon date book and calendars. They work constantly, but still find time for cooking and sharing with others. Tina is the gardening goddess. She and the other women started a permaculture garden here a few years ago, and it is thriving. I am learning so much, and loving every minute of it. I get to start my day by walking around an eccentric, happy garden, with three vibrant dogs running around, and then go get covered in mud and dirt and sing with new faces, and then usually stop by the swimming hole for a skinny dip, or just get naked in my own personal outdoor shower.
Tomorrow we are having a concert on the stage the women just built. All the exotic woods were donated by neighbors of the Gypsy Café. John and Dana respectively. John is an artist of functional art. He has been making custom guitars and furniture for years, he worked at fendor for over a decade and decided to start making a life out of what he loved. They came for dinner the first night, and we had a fiesta of food from the garden, sangria from Dana’s garden, and Salsa from John’s, called the “devils tears”…. Aptly named for the intensity…. I need to get a jar before I go home!!!

Yesterday, in the afternoon, we unloaded over 150 bales of straw for the houses, and then drove down to grants pass to pick up gravel from Jeanie, a friend of the gypsies. Jeanie lives in a very upscale trailor park and is probably the cutest old lady I’ve ever met in my life, and one of the smartest. We filled up the pick-ups with gravel after eleven oclock at night. I’m sure that made Jeanie’s neighbors happy—as if the sound wasn’t enough, the four of us were singing “I’ve been working on the railroad”… Well, more like yelling it, because the sound of shovels, pavement, and rocks flying was drowning out our voices. ☺

Today, Tina and I went down to the Fairy Sanctuary to visit everyone at the gathering. They are putting on different workshops everyday for people interested in earth and land preservation, or anything in that nature. Sustainability which includes subjects from proper removal and compost of human waste to brain-tanning hides.
Tina was doing a bio-brew ceremony, and about four others showed up in the garden for the brewing creation. It was all very sacred, and I felt privileged to be there. We asked the elements of the North, South, East, and West, to help create and preserve out brew, and to help the land and the crops receive it’s healing powers. We also sang, danced, and got to play with pond scum!

Tonight Renee came over and visited. She is an amazing 71 year old brilliant writer and gypsy. I’ve started her book, and her story amazes me. After some spaghetti covered in a garden fresh stew, Barb showed me how to make yarn out of dog and cat hair with drop spindles.

We are braiding garlic and clearing out a “tent city” valley for the concert guests tonight.
We hung a large bag of water above the sliding door to keep the flies out. Who knew that flies won’t fly under water? Not me, there’s something else I’ll be registering for future use.
JUST WOKE UP FROM A NAP IN THE GARDEN.. MAGGIE SLEPT ON MY SHOULDER, AND I JAMMED TO TRACY CHAPMAN AND JOSH TURNER ON MY IPOD... WOKE UP IN TEARS... I HAVE A FEELING I'LL BE EMOTIONALLY VOMITING FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS :) IT'S OK, I'M DUE FOR HAVING SOME FEMALE MOMENTS :)
LOVE YOU ALL, MISS YOU ALL.
MISS SOME EVEN MORE, AND I HOPE YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE :)

LOVE AND HUGS AND BLESSINGS AND SMILES,
VIRG.

PCT and Gypsy Cafe

Yikes... I can't believe I get internet here. So I thought I would take advantage of the opportunity, and share about my new temporary home.

Since I left work about a month and a half ago, it has been a whirlwind of yumminess, but also my damn sea legs kept yelling at me to get on the road, and go far far in to the unknown.
Two days after my last day of work, I graduated from college, it took me nine years, and no, I'm not a doctor. My Momma threw me and my brother's girlfriend, Serenity, a party, and the tufurkey snausages where sooo good.... I got to spend time with family that I haven't seen in a while, and it put a warm feeling in my tummy.
A few days after that, we started our PCT hike.
Tatyana, Rose, Matt, Sara J, and I... Oh and my dog, Maggie Poop Deck Pappy Mae.... That is her official name. We just call her Poo Bear, or Pappy. Well ol' Pappy burnt the snot our of her paws on the first day. Eight miles on highway 84 in ninety degree weather will do that I guess. I felt really bad, and I thank God there are no child protective services for canines. My Mom drove out to Eagle Creek that night where we were going to camp, and picked the pooch up. And we continued in and set up camp. We only did about 12 miles that day.

I wish we had video of the five of us trying to tie up our food bags in the trees, it was one of those situations you had to witness first hand to truly appreciate the comedy.
I bathed in the creek the next morning. It felt so good to strip down naked and take a bird bath in freezing cold mountain water.... And I thought we were far enough up the trail that no one would see me... I was mistaken, and the morning's first runner got a full frontal... Poor guy, he missed out, because my backside is so much better :)

The next three nights were amazing as well, I highly recommend walking over the bridge of the gods, you get such a better view of the vast river and gorge, and you can take advantage of the steel grated bridge, it's like your floating across...
We covered another 12 miles that day, and stopped early to camp at Colgate Lake, I made some lentil curry and chili over the fire, I think I could have just ate that the whole time and been fine.

We got up at the butt crack of dawn and started again. This time we would cover over 3500 feet and 22 miles total. The pictures don't do justice to how truly breathtaking our views were. We started hitting patches of snow, (we worried about the amount of snow left from reports, but we had to try anyway, it was 90 degrees everyday, so we were praying that things had melted enough to get through the summits)... As we came around the lee side of the mountain, we were crossing 8ft deep patches of snow that were covering and hiding the trail. We went in about half a a mile, and the patches started getting deeper, and larger, and we realized we couldn't keep going without equipment, even then, the trail wouldn't be visible for some segments. So we took a vote, and decided it wasn't worth someone getting hurt.

All in all it was a total of four nights, five days for me. When in the long run, it was scheduled as a 2 weeker. Long story long, I'll be going back soon to finish her off.

SO...I'm staying at the Gypsy Cafe in Sunny Valley Oregon right now, I'll write more later, about in between the hike, and now.
and I'll write more about now.... Later...

Life is what happes when to you while you're too busy making other plans

I caved.
I totally caved.... I had half a serving of Nyquil last night to make me sleep. And I'll be damned if it didn't work like a charm. I barely made it to the bed, and I'm pretty sure I lost 5 pounds during the night from the amount of drool I woke up in... it wasn't a very holistic approach to sleep deprevation, but it worked, so there's the rub.
I snuck away to a great little spot tonight to do some drawing and brainstorming for my sister and brother-in-law's new non profit organization. I'm so proud of them for taking time out of their busy lives to start an NPO--one with very honorable values, and a wonderful mission.
My nephew called me today to tell me he was going to his first session at karate class. I don't care who you are, but when a 5 year old calls you to tell you all about his new karate class, and then says ever so calmly, "Well I'm gonna let you go Auntie Virg, I love you so much, and I miss you".... you can't help but melt in to little pieces. He's such a little man, he's growing up so fast... his little league uniform fits him like a potato sack on a celery stick--it's the cutest thing I've ever seen. I am so in love.
And my niece... Awe, don't even get me started.
My cousin is due in about 5 months, I'm so excited for her little one as well. You gotta love the kids for choosing our family to be brought in to, we're nuts, we're all over the place, but we know how to camp, and we're always there for eachother. What would families be if you didn't have good stories to pass on to the next Generation?

Which brings me to here. Here I am. here i am. here...
I believe in the power of attraction. If you're not familiar with it, it's not attraction as in, "if I look hot, people will come talk to me".... not that kind.
The power of attraction... Whatever you desire or want in life... You are in control of willing it to yourself. It truly is all in your thoughts and your outward energy and actions. If you haven't read or watched "The Secret", give it a shot sometime, it's available on netflix, or at your local bookstore.

So my life is exactly where I want it, and right where I put it. And next up, we have these paths that are in front of me, (cue the high-school graduation music)....
But seriously, I decided I wanted another transition, I wanted to take one of those county roads that you pass on those long raod trips... and see what's down there. Or when you are going for a walk, and you wonder... "what would happen if I knocked on the door of that house?", or "if I continue to walk, for as long as I could, would that change the entire course of my life?" The whole butterfly effect, I love it... It's so exciting, and fantastic. And the key is to not worry about whether your choices will take away other choices that you have now. Or if a choice will close other doors that seem to be available now. Because you can't worry about those other things. Life is now, even if you make a "wrong" choice, it's still not a wrong choice, it's a choice, and you are in control of the outcome of everything.

Oh boy, that was turning in to a tangent. My inner dialog was grabbing randomly in to thin air at a query of thoughts.
I'll try and stay on track.

I realized today... As I was tearing apart my Mom's garden, the sun was starting to set, I was covered in dirt, I was barefoot and had the standard whitetrash farming attire on (cut off pink tshirt and basketball shorts from the 8th grade), it was hideous, humurous, and comfortable all at once... I was tearing out weeds like a crazed woman on her fourth frappacino when I looked over and saw Maggie, my best friend, laying in the last sun spot on the edge of the garden. She was right next to the hoe, rake, and my giant mug of water... And she was so happy... just a dog in her element, taking it all in. squinting her eyes as the sun went down, and half of her black coat was covered in dried up weeds and soil.
I realized then, that after my whole day of working and trying to figure out my next move, trying to pick the best road, I realized that this is life, right now, right then, was exactly where I wanted to be, and what I'd asked for.

This is something that I know, and that I"m lucky enough to realize on an every day basis. I love life because of this, because I am grateful for everything I have right now at this moment, and it's very easy to make me smile. And I'll be a monkeys uncle if that 45 pound black lab basset hound slut is going to make me happy just by her easy dog ways... But sometimes I forget, and sometimes my mind gets on the train tracks and starts circling... But it's good to be reminded.

MY LESSON FOR TODAY.... IF YOU GO OUTSIDE MORE OFTEN, YOU GET REMINDED OF HOW BEAUTIFUL LIFE IS, HOW YOU CAN SHARE IN THE GLORY OF THE EARTH... IT WANTS YOU TO ROLL AROUND IN IT, AND TO LOVE IT LIKE YOU LOVE WHAT IT GIVES YOU.

Narcaleptic Little Women

It's 7am... And I haven't slept at all. One of many nights withouth sleep. I tried reading, writing, tea, other stuff... and having the tv doesn't help. My eyes were wide open for three movies, the last of which was the 1990's rendition of Little Women. It's funny, I remember getting that book for Christmas the year before the movie came out. I was so excited to read it again, because I knew that Christian Bale was to star in the coming box office hit. And we all know how yummy he is. So I tore through that book, while constantly envisioning myself as Jo, beign much adored by the handsome and gentle Christian Bale (you have to remember I was only 13).... Until the end when he ends up bangin Jo's little sister.

Irrrreeegaaaardless.... I found myself dropping a few suprise tears, then a few scenes later, a bit of a cry emerged... that soon passed, and about an hour in to the movie-I was sobbing like I did the first time I got benched for throwing a fit on the field in little league. What is the deal. Well, it's a beautiful story, and it's very human, internal, and emotional.
Here I go again....
There aren't a lof of things like that anymore, at least readily available, and since almost everything is readily available, we have to search for the good stuff.

I want to sit with my children every day and read them stories, until they are teenagers. I want my house to be small enough so that you can smell the fireplace and the stove from every room in the house. I want all of my clothes and all of my shoes to be able to fit in to a small chest of drawers, and I want to have a relationship with everything in my home, and everyone around my home...
I want my dogs and my kids and my husband to have dirty feet and hands at least once a day, and when the linens smell fresh, or the wood in the house smells of violet and vanilla, I want it to be from fresh herbs from the garden, and newly picked wild flowers, and not from chemicals or anything brought home in the back of a minivan.

Why is it that we are so drawn towards or attracted to new things? Or the most up to date products? Why do we find plastic childrens toys so apealling? Why don't we cherish our family heirlooms and take care of them... perhaps it is because we dont' really take care of anything anymore. You can always go buy a new one, whatever it is, just down the road. It breaks my heart. It breaks my heart in pieces. The excess of things, the desire to have stuff, what is that, what does it mean, why do I feel I am a part of it, because I am, no matter how badly I want to be naked of it, no matter how I try and shed it, I still pull from its' branches fairly regularly.
I'm working on it, I'm baby stepping, but damnit, am I going about it right. However it is happening, the less I feel it amongst me, the more I feel in touch with myself and the music, and the heartbeat, and the earth, the dirty, dirty, fabulously romantic earth.

A lot?

Five things I think are impossible...
My Mom told me about a sermon she watched on television today. The pastor spoke about our faith in the Lord; and our faith in ourselves. How the majority of people walk around believing that God will take care of them. That God can make anything happen. Whether you believe God, energy, higher powers, yourself, and/or all of the above, whatever you believe in...
Although we believe that we will be taken care of, that these entities of strength see no boundaries, and their powers are limitless, we somehow find a capacity for things that are IMpossible. How is it that we find a place for a constant stream of IMPOSSIBILITIES if we speak as if we have faith that anything can be done and nothing should be given up on.
The pastor asked the viewers to make a list of 5 things that they themselves believe to be impossible, that even though they trust in God, they still think these things that they are to write down cannot be done or undone.
It suprised me that I had 5 things to write down. I really thought my heart and my mind were more open.
So I wrote my list.
1. A world without intentional violence and war.
2. A world of complete sustainable living.
3. A world where animals do not suffer by the hand of man.
4. I am completely comfortable, aware, and joyed with my body and appearance.
5. I find love and a kindred spirit again that gives me no doubt of serenity and peace.

Why do I feel these things are impossible? When... in the broad sprectrum of things, these are the things that play on my inner dialog daily. These are the things I work towards. The first three.... these are the things that I work towards changing. I want this to happen so much, but I struggle with the vast amount of people that are on the othere side of it, contributing towards the violence, the need for resources, and seperating themselves from the source of their food, products, and daily habits.
The fourth and the fifth I didnt' realize I saw as impossible. Perhaps it's just because I haven't given them a chance in the past few years, because I've been so focused on the other three. I feel old, I feel bleh... Not firm... however, I KNOW.... that these are not impossible. It is up to me. It helps to write these things down.
And even though I still wonder about the first three, it will only get better if I continue to work in efforts to take the edges off, and if more do that, the smaller the problems will get. Violence and suffering have to be replaced with something. The less of that, the more of the other stuff, which is undoubtedly better than any phsyical pain.

Do you have a list? Why don't you trust that God can make these things happen? I just wanted to talk about it.