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.