and a note on voting and political parties

I can't help myself today. This is not a political blog and I'm actually not a very political person, even though I grew up in a home where both parents, particularly my mother, were extremely interested in and involved with state politics. Maybe the early, heavy, exposure to it is what pushed me away, but on some level I just think the whole thing is a distraction to living a meaningful good life.

Yesterday my husband came home, picked me up, and we drove together to our polling place - the small activity room of a country church. I actually love this as a polling place because it reminds me the moment we drive up that we are part of a community of people - all the people who live around us - not just Republicans or Democrats. They all live and work and breathe and shop and hopefully find some time to play. They all experience difficulties in budgeting, parenting, aging, communicating. They are all human.

My human-ness kicked right in - I immediately balked when I saw there was a line. This has never happened since we moved to the farm, and I've enjoyed the years of waltzing in, voting, and waltzing back out again. But there we were.

A young black woman in front of me turned to ask if I knew who I was voting for - was I going to vote Republican? I said I would likely vote for some of each, depending on what I knew about the candidates.

It wasn't clear to me whether she was voting one way or the other, and in fact, neither of us ever said we "were" one party or the other - but we spent about 15 minutes talking about what we knew about the candidates and the issues. She talked about her views on a referendum issue on the ballot, and I told her what I knew of several candidates I particularly wanted to support. We bemoaned the fact that we simply didn't know much about some of the candidates, and we made time for a few jokes (husband leaned on the voting machine at one point and I envisioned something going wrong and the entire network news descending on us) and about a traffic stop we'd encountered in our community a few weeks ago in which the young officer made reference to gangbangers (I think he was having wishful thinking - it is so quiet here).

Then I realized that one of our neighbors was working behind the table and she saw us and asked how we're doing. I told her we have new neighbors with horses coming soon and she was excited to hear this and asked me to call her later in the week and fill her in.

Although I'd started out grumpy about standing in line, I ended up feeling reassured that what we do when we vote is more than throw our support behind a Democrat or a Republican. We mingle with other members of our communities, those people who most share our community's strengths and weaknesses. We might see our neighbors, we might meet new ones. We can use our vote to support candidates we truly want to see in office, or we can use the vote to encourage party diversity in what is a (to me) boring two-party system, neither of which generally represent my individual views.

For me, voting is not a duty. It's a right. And it is a choice. I have purposely NOT voted at times because I didn't want to vote for any of the candidates. I don't think there's any special virtue in marching obediently to the polls, voting randomly because you don't really know enough to make a thoughtful vote. There are many ways to express the right to vote - and I honor and celebrate all of them.

I also want to express my disgust for members of BOTH major parties who refer to the other side as stupid, ignorant, and whatever other negative adjectives get thrown about. What makes this country what it is? The fact that we all have the right and the safety to express our political views. Whatever they might be. We have the right as people to have a different point of view. We come to our points of view from many different places and experiences. We believe what we believe because it's psychologically comfortable for us to believe it. And there is a bigger picture to all this - we're all part of a bigger society - which grows and changes and goes through stages just as we individuals do. There's no way for us to see how the big pattern is shifting - but part of being on the earth is living through this shifting, changing community of humans who are all in different stages.

The best way to be a good citizen is to live your daily life with consideration and integrity. It's not about how many times you vote or how many people you called or whether you made signs for one party or another. Find concrete ways to make things better in your neighborhood, your family, your community - on a daily basis. Those small gestures are more powerful than anything else you do.

(and if you disagree with me, that's okay - I'm not here to debate or generate discussion - feel free to say what you like, but I won't be responding to comments on this post - I just wanted to write this today after experiencing the chat on Facebook yesterday - at some point I think it pushed me over the edge!)

new turn-out routine

Taking a brief break from my Elkmont series to update about the new turn-out routine I started a few weeks ago.

Normally at this time of year we would shift from night-time turn-out to day-time turn-out - meaning the horses would go out and graze during the days again, and would come in to their paddock areas with access to stalls at night.

I decided to try something different this year. Instead of coming in for the night, they are coming in to stalls twice a day. In the morning, they come in for hay and then their breakfast tubs. I close the stall doors on the geldings so that Cody and Keil Bay can lie down if they want to, without being intruded upon by Apache Moon, the pony. They generally get a couple of hours to rest this way.

Across the barn aisle, Salina and the donkey boys get a similar rest period - although I don't close them in. They have access to two stalls, the barn aisle, and their grass paddock, so they can seek out the sunshine, rest in the quiet stalls, or just amble around as they feel like it.

After this, they go back out where they are mostly grazing hay now.

Salina is getting one mid-day tub, around 3 p.m., and she and the donkeys have the option at that point to go back out with the geldings, or hang out in the barnyards.

The geldings come in around 6 p.m., go back in stalls for hay and another few hours of rest, and then they all get their dinner tubs around 9 p.m.

And then, they all go back out again to graze hay all night long.

Obviously they will come in if we have cold rain/wind or other severe weather, but what I'm seeing so far with this new routine is horses that are moving well, in good spirits, and I think this will be our way of doing things through the winter unless we hit a problem.

I'm seeing good things particularly with Salina - I will use her blanket and Whinny Warmers as needed once it gets colder, but the activity seems to be doing her joints good.

the elkmont series: the wonderland hotel

I can't remember the year it was when I discovered Elkmont, in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, but I was instantly in love with the place. The river, the forest, and the abandoned hotel and cabins that you walk past on your way to several trails that are possibly my most favorite hiking trails in the world.

I was alone the time I first found the place, and did not have a camera. But I did have a notebook and a pen, and I sat down many times that day to make notes and to soak in the history and the ambiance of this place.

If you read the sign in the first photograph here, you'll get a quick history of the setting. What you don't get is the absolute sense when there in person of the life that still lingers about the hotel and the cabins. It was so present the first time I visited, and made such a tremendous impression on me, it later took root in my third novel. There is an entire sequence that takes place in Elkmont, and a main character has a reaction that mirrors the one I had - having to do with the presence of spirit there, and how easy it is while walking to tap into the history of the place and its residents.

Although I have been back to Elkmont a number of times since that first visit, I never took photographs. I'm not sure why. Sometimes I don't want to interrupt my full experience of "being" in a place by seeing it through the lens. As a writer I want to see things exactly as they are, the living scene instead of what we capture with a camera.

A couple of years ago the park service made the decision to remove the main building of the Wonderland. I read this online and was absolutely devastated. I had no photographs, and that particular building was the one that felt the most filled with life. Standing in front of it, you could almost see people dancing inside, or leaning on the porch railing, or walking up the series of stone stairways to the front. I felt for awhile that I didn't even want to go back again. Seeing the empty spot where the hotel had been would be too upsetting.

But when we decided to make this trip, I knew Elkmont would be on the itinerary, and that I would have my camera in hand.

When we arrived, I quickly realized there was going to be a problem. The road to the cabins and the main trails was closed off. I parked and went in to ask the rangers what was going on. They said the parking area (which had been quite rustic and often impossible to navigate) was being redone to accommodate not only more visitors, but handicapped visitors. They told me the lodge and one of the cabins had been restored, and they were hoping that one by one, the rest would be repaired enough that they don't continue to deteriorate. This is good news, but not for us - we were leaving the area the next morning and would not get to see any of my favorite place.

I had a moment of frustration but quickly regrouped. The kids and I decided to make the best of it, and park so we could walk by the river which parallels the road into Elkmont. As we drove back in that direction, I realized the old fire road was actually outside the closed off area. Following my rule about not asking if you don't want to be told no, we parked and hiked up the fire road as we have done many other times. Few people ever take this hike, so we were the only ones on the trail.

The fire road is one way to approach the Wonderland - but since the Wonderland had been torn down, I wasn't expecting to see anything except empty space. What we discovered is that although they have removed the main building, they did not remove the outbuildings, and they actually left the chimneys of the main building behind. Nature has already repaired the scars of demolition. I had dreaded seeing dirt and piles of rubble, but there were none. The ugly chain link fencing they'd used for years to keep people off the dangerous flooring was gone too. It actually looked more peaceful than I'd ever seen it.

Of course, given what's happened to the main building, I immediately got my camera ready and began to photograph what was left. This series will show some of those shots.

I hope even a few of them reveal the magic, the mystery, and the sense of life I always find when I visit.

outside the conservatory, and a bit on writing process

These were a few shots I took outside the conservatory.  Once I walked by the door, it was hard to stay interested in what is a gorgeous garden. All I wanted to do was get inside!

Next comes a series of photos at one of my favorite places on the earth. I've been many times but never took photos. This time I did.

I'm labeling these posts as writing in addition to the place names - because for me, seeking out these magical places feeds my writing whether or not I end up using the places, or anything I see while exploring them, in the work itself.

One of the best ways to deal with writing blocks, or to stimulate a new project, is to get away from the desk and go out into the world, especially outside the circle of our everyday routine.

For me, finding places that have been around longer than I have always stirs things up in a wonderful way. I can feel the stories of all the people who have lived there, traveled there, remain there - swirling in a sort of wonderful cauldron of creative unconsciousness. It puts me right in the place where I want to be to access my own stories floating around in the deep places we all carry with us but don't always recognize when busy with our daily lives.

Sometimes I find a path for my story through making my own journey to new or beloved places. And other times, like this one, I feel like the path was already there inside my head, and in a streak of pure synchronicity, I managed to recreate it in my actual travels. I could feel the distinct sensation this trip that I was following the path of the main character in the new book, which is at the moment nothing more than an idea, a premise, with one character vaguely in mind.

And yet as we went from place to place last week, I could feel her becoming more solid, and was able to begin to see a little form coming to the idea. This part of the writing (or creative) process is nebulous and I don't think people write much about it. The focus tends to be on how to sit down and write, getting the words onto the page or the screen. But this part, the part where it's all wispy and not graspable, is in my opinion the most important part.

It's where we trust that the germ of something is worthwhile, and where we allow the unnamed magic to happen without trying to plan it or control it.

It's a valuable time for us as individuals too - allowing ourselves to be in the numinous. It's healing, it's transforming, and all kinds of good things come when we let it happen. Not just in our writing, but in our lives.

halloween

Taking a break from Biltmore photos to say that I have almost made it through a weekend without my husband, who took a well-deserved trip to the mountains to capture peak color and apparently an elk family with his camera. Whenever he goes out of town, I end up overdoing it the first day and then feel like I'm going to keel over the second.

Friday morning after he left I went into overdrive and tackled a huge mountain of laundry, vacuumed the house, raked up 12 20-gallon buckets of acorns out of the arena, made the critical error of hurling them over the fence (that motion of heaving something up and over is murder on my back), scrubbed Keil Bay's hooves, mucked the paddock and half the back field, and did assorted and sundry other chores that are part of the daily routine around here.

I felt quite pleased with myself Friday night, but yesterday I was not happy. Ice packs and an Advil turned things around so that I could get through the day with the help of two teens who pitched in.

This morning my daughter and I got up at 5:30 a.m. to go to a Pony Club lesson. She was able to take the lesson horse she's riding to their first outing together and they had a lovely flat-work lesson under a huge covered arena. It was a lot of fun, and thanks to my son, we didn't have to fret over the horses here on November Hill.

It's a lovely day out, so we just spent some time soaking hooves. I need to brag about Redford Donkey, who is an old pro already and easily soaks two hooves at once with not a bit of fuss.

Today we did oil of oregano soaks and so it was aromatherapy as well as hoof therapy.

If I can get my son off to his Halloween party tonight, I'll be able to sit down with a glass of wine and my Proust pages and relax. I think I'm going to be a lady of leisure for Halloween. (ha!)

And as an update on neighbors and the house across the lane - the couple who had fallen in love with the property bought it! They will be moving in early December and getting the place ready for their horse and goats. Adding to the fun is our other neighbor, who is putting in fencing with plans to get a horse for herself. We're going from a lane with 3 out of 8 horse owners to 5 out of 8. It will be nice to have more horses and horsefolk living nearby.

Hope everyone has a happy and safe Halloween!