Happy New Year!

I wish you health and I wish that the new year brings you whatever you need at this time in your life.

May you feel sustained and supported and loved, whatever you're going through. I know that so many of us feel alone, scared, overwhelmed, ashamed....

May we all heal from whatever is hurting us, and may the earth and all its creatures heal, so that we can go on and enjoy each other and the beauty all around us.

Have fun if you celebrate today, rest if you need to rest, and trust the path.

This is one of the memories I will treasure from 2016: hiking and resting in the beautiful Austrian Alps.

Peace

Try again with the cow videos

Don't know why they don't always come through...

"Hurry up and give me my treats!",  she says.
https://youtu.be/aET_1bI7NdE

https://youtu.be/bx2X4ffRVpI

This one is all about the cows

I took an accidental video this morning when I went to milk Opal. I kind of like it. I like how she talks to me. What she's saying is "Hurry up and give me my treats!". I always give the cows treats so they can be content while I'm milking. This morning it was carrots.

And some pictures of milk from this morning's milking, and the cheeses I make:

Our little cheese "cave" is full! It takes about 4 gallons of milk to make one of those wheels.

Just cut into this alpine style cheese, which has been aging since August. Pretty delicious, I have to say. Sena wants us to age the cheeses for longer, but we can't seem to make it past 4 months before we cut into them. They get better with age...so we'll have to try harder to see what they taste like at more than 4 months.

Peace

What do you do in the winter?

I get this question a lot, so here are some answers:

Homeschool. Milk the cows. Make cheese. Care for the animals. Cook. Make sense of the past growing season and plan for the next growing season. De-clutter and organize our living space. Knit and crochet.

Put some seeds in the ground on Sena's birthday, December 23rd.

Ducks love hanging out near the water hose.

Mama Opal

Mama Opal and Mama Jasmine

Peace

30 years

This December marks 30 years since my family moved from Romania to Canada. It's hard to describe what this move meant for us. All I can say right now is that it opened up opportunities that we could only dream of before, and also, that it put us through difficulties severe enough to have left permanent scars on all of us.

For me, moving here as a teenager, I experienced exhilaration at first, then confusion at the culture I was trying to fit into. For years after the move, my dearest wish was to have friends, be liked and be like everyone else.

I dealt with anorexia and bulimia from the time I was 17 well into my 20s, and this was a direct result of my attempt to fit into the new society we had come to. I am still dealing with the effects of that now.

On the upside, the anorexia and bulimia taught me a life-lesson on self-acceptance that I am now able to pass on my my girls. I already talked to them about it, because in one way or another, they too will most likely have to deal with issues of self-acceptance and fitting in. Sena said that the person I described to them seemed so different from who I am right now. And I told her that who I am right now, for better and worse, is due to who I was back then. I am not ashamed of it, and it's not something to be ashamed about. It's simply what happened to me under the circumstances.

I would say that the thing I am most grateful for as far as moving here is the fact that I can live in peace and have the freedom to live the lifestyle I choose and raise my kids the way I choose to. We could not do that when we were in Romania under communism, and I am not sure how much that is possible even now.

The picture below is taken in front of my parents' current house in Brossard, Canada. My family moved into this house in 1988, two years after coming to Canada. The massive tree in front is as old as our stay in this house - my mom planted it when it was only about 6 inches tall, and look at it now.

I feel very attached to this tree, because it has seen us through so much. Silent and dignified, it has witnessed all the difficulties, good times and bad times that we have been through as a family of immigrants, and as individuals as well. I love how this tree has thrived - even though it is in the suburbs surrounded by concrete, it is big enough and beautiful enough to fit in a forest. To me, it is a symbol of my personal struggle to fit into a new environment, and I want to thank it for being here, a silent witness to all those years.

The kids in front of the tree are Sena, Aiyana, Stella and Julia. When my mom planted the tree, the girls would've towered over it...

Peace

A highlight of 2016

One of my precious memories from our trip last October is this hike in the Fagaras Mountains in Romania. The sights of the mountains, the crisp air, everything...so amazing. And no one but us around.

Cabana Capra down in the valley, where we started our hike.

Sena and Aiyana on the path (top right hand corner of the picture)

Peace

Happy birthday Sena!

Turning 13 today and celebrating with her good friends.

my kind of networking

a beautiful metaphor for human relationship, made even more beautiful by the fact that trees actually do that, sharing nutrients and information through their fungal root networks. this is my kind of networking.
(source of picture is here)

Networking

Many people agree that networking is a critical skill for "getting ahead" in life.
It's a skill I don't have, and I often felt bad about that when I was younger, like I was lacking something important. Now, that I'm getting older, I'm torn about weather I really want to have this skill or not.

I guess on some level I am repulsed by networking because I see it fundamentally as a way of getting something from someone without being open about it. At its worst, it's pure hypocrisy, where you don't even like a person, but you're hanging out with them and being nice to them because it's in your interest to do so. At its best, networking happens when you actually do like the person, and like being with them, but there's this other agenda in the background as well that you're hoping for.

I think that asking for help or favors from someone is totally legitimate, and I appreciate it when it happens in an open way and the other person knows upfront that this is at least in part why you're talking to them.

With genuine human interaction, when you talk to someone or spend time with them because you want to be with them, there are always side benefits. You often get more out of the relationship than you anticipated. But the point is, and what makes it different from networking, is that you're not thinking about the extra benefits, you let the relationship be what it is, and if you get something  more out of it than you expected, that's great. But that's not your motivation for hanging out with them.

So I've never been good at networking. I had a hard time with it when I was in the corporate world, in the academic world, and in the farming world. Networking, I found, is prevalent in all these fields. I usually beat myself up about not being good at it, because it does limit you, especially when you're up against colleagues who are naturally talented at it. At the office, there's getting the promotion; in farming, it's getting the sales, or the farm grants, or whatever. Who you know is really important and has tangible consequences. But I can't bring myself to do it. And I've also always been drawn to people who don't network well.

So I am torn about whether I should try harder to be good at networking. I think that at best, networking could be done by letting the other person know upfront that yes, you like being social with them, but you're also interested in this other outcome from your interaction. Maybe I'll try this the next time opportunity arises. Maybe not.

My ambivalence on this issue is also why I like being with animals so much. With them, everything is upfront. Not always pretty, but always upfront. Their true nature is what it is, and they don't hide their intentions.

Peace

There

Too much I lied,
Too much I compromised,
Too much I doubted.

And yet,

Within myself, I keep
A little place,
Inviolate and true,
Where light still shines.

Hidden,
Like a sunny opening in a dark forest,
A place of trust and warmth,
Where I believe in you,
And in myself.

There,
I sit, and rest,
and wait.

tonight

Tonight I was alone.
I made Russian tea cakes. I made black tea with milk. And I sat down and listened to the incredible words of Maya Angelou, a lifetime of wisdom distilled in 20 minutes.

My first cable knitting project

I just finished knitting my first hat involving cables. I'm very happy with it. Got the pattern from ravelry.com, under Northward beanie. It was free and really fun to make. Took a couple of evenings.

the things she says

about once a week, we watch a movie as a family. a couple of weeks ago, we watched a movie about Temple Grandin's life. Temple Grandin is a brilliant woman and an engineer, who because of her autism, was able from a young age to understand animals in a way that other people couldn't; so she ended up designing much more humane facilities for large scale cattle operations than the existing standard at the time. she improved the lives of many animals living in confinement, not only cattle but also pigs, and she works with horses and other animals as well.

in any case, today, quite out of the blue, aiyana said:
"mama, i think that people are able to recognize that Temple Grandin is really special, because what she does is easy to recognize. but i think that everyone has something that they're extraordinary at, but it's just not so easy for everyone else to see that."

on a totally different topic...
weeks ago, we were lying in bed one night, with the lights turned off, and as i held her we looked out the window and i said "look how beautiful the stars are tonight". so we looked for a while, and then she said: "when you look at the stars with some people, they want to talk about what the names of this or that star are, and what constellation they're in. but when you do that, you're not really seeing the stars."

what can i say to things like that? not much. i hug her, tell her she's right. nothing i can teach her in homeschooling comes close to that. i also want to say thank you for reminding me. and please, whatever you do, don't forget these things, and don't let anyone else make you forget either.

peace

Sena's drawing

She made it this evening.

i lie

i lie every day
though i'd die to speak the truth
"in my secret life" (Cohen)

i lie to myself
i lie to you, world
you're not strong enough to hear it
i'm not strong enough to say it

i tell myself it's ok
because that is what you taught me
because we all do it
and because one day i'll be brave
beware

Beautiful Place

I found this beautiful place by the shore last Friday, after I delivered what will probably be the last veggies of this season to Oyster Club in Mystic.  I didn't feel this kind of excitement since I was in Europe on top of the mountains. Something about the vast, open landscape...And I had it all to myself.

 Had my jornal

Peace

Christmas decorations

Sena and Aiyana made these cute miniature hats this evening and set them on the hearthstone.

Sena's sewing

Lately, while we sit by the fire in the evening, Sena' s been sewing these little bookmarks and decorating them with traditional Romanian patterns. She got interested while we were in Romania, when I told her that this was one of my favorite passtimes when I was small.

Thank you Standing Rock

Congratulations and thanks to everyone at Standing Rock who risked their own personal safety in order to protect our water and land. Thank you for being a beacon of hope for other communities around the world, whose lands and water are being taken over and exploited for individual profit. And thank you for teaching our kids a valuable lesson on how to strand peacefully for environmental and social justice.

To know the dark and yet be guided by the light

Soon it will be winter solstice.

 

I welcome this time of the year. I take comfort in the darkness that now reigns, allowing myself to rest and renew; I mourn for lost things and dream of new things. Just like the earth and many of its creatures have slowed down and drawn within, so I too, feel the pull to draw within myself. 

 

Many of us here in the northern hemisphere, feel surrounded by darkness not only from a lack of sun, but in a metaphoric sense as well. There is darkness in the world on so many levels, and so many reasons to be worried. And we also, each one of us, carry our private darkness in one way or another.

 

But dark and light go together, both a reality of life, and both must be accepted. As nature shows, when dark reaches its peak, at winter solstice, at the very same time, the light returns and begins to get stronger. I remind myself that within us too, the same thing happens. If we can sit with the dark, the light will come.  

 

And that won’t be the end of the story, because light and dark wax and wane in a never ending cycle. Both are sure to return in their due time. So I realize now that the point of sitting through the dark is not to make it go away. Rather, the point is that as we get to know the dark, we will also recognize the light. And as we do so, we will become more aware of what motivates our actions when dealing with the world and with ourselves.

 

In that sense, winter solstice is personally meaningful to me, because of the powerful message it conveys:

To know the dark and yet be guided by the light.

 

Peace

Just harvested these fresh greens

December 4th, and the earth still gives...

True Love

Like many of us, I was raised on and partially bought into the "Happily ever after" idea, as it relates to marriage and other significant relationships in our lives. Life showed me that "Happily ever after" is not representative of reality for most of us. We all know this, and why we keep perpetuating the myth, as a society, and set up our kids for confusion and heartache later on in life, I don't fully understand.

But I'm not writing this in order to bash anything or anyone. I am writing because at various points in my life, including recently, I have asked myself, "What the heck is love anyway?", and I want to share some things that have been helpful to me in getting insight into this question.

One is this video from Thich Nhat Hanh. I know he's a monk, and as such is not dealing with the same type of relationship we deal with as a parent, spouse, coworker, and so on in our secular lives. But at the same time, I find that his ideas are universally applicable, and although they may seem idealistic, I find them useful in guiding me. I like how his concept of love includes oneself as well as others. He does not talk about true love as self-sacrifice, or loving someone at the expense of oneself, and neither does he describe love as a sort of self-indulgence or self-absorbtion.  Instead he talks about it as a sort of deep connection as a result of which everyone benefits and grows.
Check out his 8 minute video here.

Peace

Less afraid

Last night I needed to get out of the house for a few minutes and so I walked to the mailbox. It was raining and warm. It was pitch black and I liked it that way.

I thought about Mimi and how he'd walk through the dark, alone, complete onto himself, going to places only he knew. Was he afraid? I'll never know. Then, one time he walked, it was his last journey, and he was gone. He was here, he lived, he did what was in his nature to do. Then one day it all ended. So simple, so clean. No mess.

Why do we make it so complicated? I guess because we're human?

Well, at least for now, Mimi's death made me less afraid. Made it real clear that we're here for some time, and then we're gone. Forever. And so, while we're here, just be here. No fear. There's no place for fear. Just live, and be awake to the incredible gift of our own life. That is all we have, all we'll ever have. Everything else is just in our head.

Peace

Mimi

Our good friend and oldest cat Midnight was hit by a car last night or this morning and died. His name is  Midnight, but we usually called him Mimi.

He was big and black and beautiful. He came to us from the animal shelter when he was a little kitten, about 7 years ago. He was very shy with people and also very dignified. It took a long time to get him to come to you, and only a few rare people other than us, his family, befriended him. Nicu was one of those people.

We all felt sick about it when Ed called after he got to work this morning and said that he saw a big black cat that he thought was Mimi about half a mile from our house, on Rt 275, which a busy road. We were hoping that it wasn't him, but when Ed brought him home we all knew it was.

One thought that came into my head was "I hate cars", because I needed someone or something to blame. Then I thought, "We should not let the cats be outdoors". The girls said that too, and then we all knew that keeping them indoors is not the answer. Would they have a longer life? Most likely. Would they have a better life? We all thought no. Right now, our cats are free to come and go as they please. This is their home, here with us, and they certainly enjoy lying on the couch for hours on end in the winter, but they are also wild, and love to roam and hunt. There's a dead mouse on our front steps right now, and we all thought that maybe this was Mimi's last gift to us. We always find dead birds and rodents near the house, which the cats leave for us after their hunts.

Mimi often came home with leaves and burrs and other things from the woods stuck to him. Sometimes he came home with a new scar from a fight he'd been in. When I held him, I often thought, "Mimi, if you could only tell us of the places you've been to and the things you've seen". But the old quote is true: "If cats could speak, they wouldn't". His presence was enough, and I really felt that it was an honor that as wild as he was, he would come to us and snuggle and let us hold him and pet him. He would never do that with any human unless he really trusted them. So it was really special. I always felt like with him, I was holding a little bit of the wildness.

We'll miss him for sure this winter. During the warm weather we'd see him maybe once a day, sometimes not for 3 or 4 days, when he went to who knows where. But in the winter, he'd always come to the house and sleep on the armchairs or the couch.

What I want to say to him is "Thank you Mimi, for your life, and for being part of our lives. We will not forget you".

Here he is lying near me as I rested in front of the house one day last summer.

Peace

Giving Tuesday

I think that many of us would like to do more for environmental justice and social justice and other worthy causes, but for various reasons we can't. So I think that in that case, donating to a respectable organization that does good work is a good alternative. To me, NRDC (Natural Resources Defense Council) is a good organization, doing work that benefits all of us. Sena has been working with them to help the whales and the oceans, and as I got to know them, I was very impressed by the scope of the work they do, as well as their openness and generosity and support towards us when we went to meet with hem at their headquarters in NYC last summer.

Today NRDC has a special drive, and if you donate to them your donation will be matched and doubled. I just donated and wanted to encourage anyone who feels moved to, to do it too. There will be difficult times ahead, with Trump coming into office, and NRDC will have an important place in standing up for environmental and social justice.

Peace

True

I wrote this in my journal the other day: "Be true to myself instead of to what is expected of me".
Then I realized: No, that's not it.

Instead, I'm going for the trickier "Be true to myself AND to what is expected of me". Which, I don't know if it's possible.

But I'm pretty sure that I'm well on my own to ditching being true to only what is expected of me. Even though that's the only way I've known most of my life. And even though it feels terrifying to try something else.

Peace

A place called Bradet

When I was small, my mom was assigned to work in a small village in Arges county, Romania. She was to work as a doctor and also be the director of a hospital in Bradet, a position she held for a few years. Even though I was only about 5-years-old at that time, and even though the rest of my life I grew up in cities, those years in Bradet turned out to have a really significant effect my life. I think that they gave me my love of natural surroundings, and eventually pulled me back to farming and the land.

We visited Bradet when we were in Romania this past October. Not much has changed since 40 years ago, so the girls were able to see it more or less as I knew it.

This is the river,Valsan, in which I spent countless hours playing with my sister and friends.

My grandmother, Bunica, would come with us sometimes, and taught us how to braid a type of grass that grew on the meadows by the river. We used to make decorations out of it. The grass still grows and I was able to show the girls a little of what I remebered.

 They braided the grass into head bands

This is the little bridge I had to cross every evening when my mom would send me to the village to get some fresh milk from an old man with a cow.

Valsan river and the hospital on the right. The hospital served a much larger region than the small village of Bradet. People came from all over the country and spent time here to recuperate from their ailments.

 A village water well

Typical village house gate

 One of the meadows we spent much time playing on

Village house

 Hay stacked to feed the animals through the winter

Peace