Indian Summer: a Christmas Letter

The calendar tells me it is indeed December, even though my brain cannot comprehend how fast the year has gone. We are content with the warmish temperatures lately – highs in the 40s – in our corner of Michigan. It’s like an Indian summer around here, finally. By the way, I discovered Indian summer has two meanings:

  1. a period of unusually dry, warm weather occurring in late autumn.
  2. a period of happiness or success occurring late in life.

As I write this we are mere minutes away from waving good-bye to autumn and welcoming (with mostly open arms) the official start of winter. The second definition of Indian summer reminds me that periods of happiness and success are something to be cherished. The trick is what we do with those moments in between.

We are having a lot of fun living this farm adventure. I’ve taken to sharing pictures of our animals on social media because they’re funny creatures – all of them. There’s a lot we can learn from watching animal behavior, whether in nature or in our back yards. The way they interact with each other and with us can be comical and it can be frightening too.

That ‘pecking order’ thing – it’s real, and not just with chickens. Rusty, the cat, is in charge of the other cats. Dixie, (our Black Beauty) is the boss of Zima. Lily, the lamb, is mostly in charge of her three siblings. While Rika, the wonder dog, is the boss of all the animals except the young rooster (who is currently undergoing ‘training’ to become a gentlemen, or else). It’s fascinating how they figure out their place in the flock or herd and they never worry about tomorrow. Animals know how to live in the moment.

To the casual observer it may appear to be complete peace on earth over here, but we know better – there is conflict and chaos all around us. You probably know what I mean.

Caring for livestock brings us silly moments of happiness and occasional feelings of success. I’ll take it.  When all are fed and watered, we do feel successful. But a kink in the hose or an unexpected rooster attack can ruin the day if we let it. Which means we must grab hold of, and be thankful for, all those little Indian summer moments. Those moments in between though, we should really practice a little gratitude for them too. Without them we might take for granted the lovely Indian summer moments.

It’s nice when the grandkids visit because they all want to help with chores. Although Owen is 12 and more interested in driving the Kawasaki Mule than gathering eggs. Olivia is 9 and leaps, pirouettes, and splits her way from point A to point B. Morgan is also 9 and does back-bends, and flip-overs across the yard, while dribbling a basketball. Ella is 6 and is happy as can be to kick a soccer ball everywhere she goes. And Charlotte is 2 and . . . well, she tries ALL the above with gusto (except for the driving part, of course).

Come to think of it they don’t really help that much with chores on their visits, but those visits are definitely part of our Indian summer moments.

May all your moments be filled with love and joy and gratitude.

The Dandelion Knows

Dandelion

Do you have trouble letting go of things? Are you having trouble letting go of the insane political climate? Letting go of choices you made long ago? Do you remember something you wish you’d done differently or at least wonder, what if?

Dandelions totally get it. A perfectly adorable yellow flower turns into a seed pod that has no intention of holding on to those hundreds of seeds. It knows how to let go.

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Unmade Bed

unmade bed

Sometimes I don’t make the bed. I don’t see the point in making it pretty every darned day for literally no one to see. Many days I don’t even see it myself until I pull the covers down to climb back into it.

Man I miss this bedroom. It’s my old bedroom from my last house and it was spacious, soothing, quiet, with just the right amount of natural light coming in. I am reminded by this picture of many years where my hubby traveled and I slept alone in this big bed. Making it was simple – pull up the covers on my side and walk away. Continue reading

How My Business Sold Itself

Last month I sold my seven-year old business, Big Fat Soap. Since I made the announcement dozens of fellow business owners have asked me how I did it, as though there were specific steps involved in the process. While I cannot outline exactly how the potential buyer(s) were found I would like to demonstrate what the experience was like from my perspective. Later Part Two of this series will explain the amount of work involved in getting it sold, because there was a LOT of work involved even after I watched the truck drive away with the contents of my business. Read on to hear how it happened. Continue reading

Farm Dreams — Part 1

Me and My First Love, Amigo - 1967

Where does a dream begin? How does it develop into something one must pursue? Is it ever too late to take action on pursuing this dream? 

I’ve had a dream my whole life — literally as far back as I can remember. This is Part 1 of my farm dream story:  

As a kid growing up in the Los Angeles suburbs I longed to live on a farm with horses. Corrals, pastures, wide open spaces to ride off alone, just me and my equine best friend, was what I dreamed of nearly every day of my life. I don’t know why or even where this idea came from because I hadn’t been exposed to horses or farms, except on TV. I knew kids who would visit their relatives on farms – always in the Midwest, it seemed. Eventually I married one of those kids. Continue reading