It’s A Dog’s Life on November Hill

 

November Hill farm journal, 118

 We’re in a cold snap this week, highs in the upper 30s, lows in the low 20s, and we also had a dusting of snow (after a night of near-solid cold rain) so are back to square one with the mud factor. We’ve had horses in blankets for 2 days straight now, somewhat unusual for us, but I don’t want Keil Bay getting cold. He’s doing well for the most part.

In spite of the cold and the ongoing wetness, the time came this week to move on with some of the postponed repairs at the barn. The roof repairs were done yesterday, and will be finished up on Monday. It’s a relief to have that mostly done. Next is rebuilding one of the interior stall doors, bringing in some footing for the two shelters, and doing something with the barn aisle - either packed stone screenings with mats on top or ??? - it’s time. Depending on how easily that goes we may do some work on the feed room as well. 

My farm helper has been doing some pruning of the giant butterfly bush and the hollies in front of our porch, to get a jump on that before they start growing like mad as spring sets in. He also worked on creating a hugelkultur berm where an old and dead tree tipped over in the side strip, which happened to fall in a way that will be a great place to do the berm and create a storm water break over there. 

Next up, though, is a new roof on the house, which is still sitting under the original roof that was put on 25 years ago. We’re moving to a metal roof and I’ll be relieved when it’s over and done with! Then the back deck is up for replacement. These two things will be both invasive and difficult to live with if they go on for longer than a day, which I guess I need to steel myself that they will. There are days when I feel like it would be easier to buy a new farm than manage this one! 

Inside, we’ve moved the old sofa on to Habitat, and the new one is here and ready to be installed today. I’m enjoying the sofette and now the little ottoman I got to go with it. The dogs are not amused that their big sofa is gone and for now there’s just the floor along that wall! 

One thing I’ve made sure to do with these new sofas is get very lightweight throws for ease of washing and drying. The quilt I had on the large sofa was king-sized and very heavy, and with three dogs who have access to a back yard 24/7, I had to wash it at least once a week. The new one is super light and will be very easy to toss in the wash and will dry quickly.

I may have gone overboard with the size of the throw pillows I ordered - they’re great, but take up a lot of room on the sofette. Thinking of some kind of dedicated throw pillow caddy where they can be used when needed but put aside when not. 

This week’s weather has made me decide I’m officially ready for spring. Not that I can summon it in any way but I’m ready for slightly warmer temperatures again. 

In other news, I reembarked on Julia Cameron’s 12-week Artist’s Way exercises last week. I’m happy to bring some structure into creative efforts and routine, and also eager to move into her new book once I complete this 12 weeks of work.

Almost February! Hoping we get a bit warmer weather moving forward and that the vaccine for Covid gains a lot of ground in terms of being out there for everyone to access. I’m happy to see the efforts being put to that task. 

Book Review: The Part That Burns, a memoir by Jeannine Ouellette

 

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole.

Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. 

Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us.

Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely.

A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. 

Very highly recommended. 

YES! We can all breathe again.

 So very relieved, happy, and ready to get to work now that President Biden and VP Harris are at the helm. Not to mention a Democrat-led House and Senate.

It’s time to clean house, both the WH and all houses of law enforcement. Time to clean up the planet. Time to clean up how we do business on every level of government.

As our inaugural poet laureate Amanda Gorman said today: 

There is always light. 

Only if we are brave enough to see it. 

There is always light. 

Only if we are brave enough to be it.

Dream Journal, 1

 I’m starting a new series today in honor of a dream I had last night about Salina. I often have vivid, unusual dreams and this is one place I can put them. One Jungian take on dream work is that different characters in our dreams represent different parts of ourselves. I always think from that perspective first and then consider other ways of interpreting meaning. Though I also feel strongly that many of our dreams are not so much things we need to interpret, but glimpses of feeling and mood that, on reflection, can help us let go of something we may be holding onto unconsciously. 

I’m not posting these dreams to find meaning necessarily, but mostly so I do not forget them. The act of writing them down helps keep them in mind, and this is one I do not want to forget.

In the dream Salina, our black German Hannoverian mare, was still with us. She had the arthritic knees she had in real life, but it wasn’t clear in the dream if she had just the one eye from her real life or both eyes. I was with my husband in the paddock behind our barn doing some mucking, and in the dream we had a covered arena that connected to one end of the barn. Salina was meandering around keeping an eye on things, as she so often did when she was with us in her body.

The fascinating thing about the dream is that in addition to Salina’s equine self, she also had a miniature person self who was also meandering around. This petite human girl part of Salina was dressed in riding attire and at one point when I got distracted and then eventually looked back at her, she had tacked Salina the horse self up in beautiful dressage tack and was mounting for a ride!

I immediately directed my husband to look - Salina is riding herself! I said to him. It was, in the dream, a beautiful merging of two parts of Salina. (Jung might say two parts of the Self - maybe self and Self)

When the miniature person Salina was riding the horse Salina, all the effects of the arthritis was gone. It was as if merging made them both complete and perfectly mobile. They trotted, cantered, did dressage movements, and I watched, transfixed, until the human Salina took them to a window in the arena and dismounted onto its sill. I was worried she would injure herself jumping down to the ground, but she was fine, and their ride was over.

I’m not sure what this “means,” but the mood of the dream was luminous and wondrous. It was pure joy to see Salina moving so beautifully, it was mesmerizing to see this miniature human part of her come to life in my dream world. And I woke up still feeling the joy. I’m sure there is deeper meaning. In one totally superficial way, I feel the dream is saying to me: RIDE! 

In any case, it was a lovely dream and I hope never to forget it. The way I felt while watching it unfold.