Solar/Wind-Powered Strawbale Home for Sale in Colorado!

Friends of mine are selling their custom-built strawbale solar-and-wind-powered home on 40 acres in a mountain valley of Colorado. I wish we could buy it and live in that quiet valley, ringed by snowcapped peaks of the Wet Mountains on one side and the Sangre de Christo Mountains on the other! Life could be something altogether different from what it is here and now. Peaceful. Serene. Antelopes and eagles as neighbors. Wilderness hiking just a brief walk from the front door. No electric bills.

The trouble is that Gary and I both make our living in this town.

Their place is amazing. They even build a strawbale barn and garage. There's a greenhouse attached to the home, so that it helps to heat it (for free!) in the winter. There's a workout room, so they can stay fit enough for their hiking adventures.

I know they're sad to be selling their dream home, but its a medical necessity. Michael needs to move down to sea level, for his health. This home is at 7,800 feet elevation.

Do you know anyone who might be interested in an absolute dream home in paradise? Check out this website that I made for them, and please pass it along to anyone on your email list who might want to purchase it. Whoever buys it will be the luckiest, most grateful person you know!

http://www.strawbale4sale.blogspot.com

Guard Kitten Saves The Day

We awoke to the sight of a mule deer buck with a massive rack eating the lilac bush outside our bedroom window.

Maya the kitten got her first glimpse of a deer when Gary lifted her to the windowsill. She was fascinated. We then put her outside the back door. She trotted up to the deer, and stopped on a flagstone a couple of feet away.

When Bucky had his fill, he turned to go up the walkway. Tiny Maya arched her furry little back and stood her ground on the flagstone. The deer backed up. Maya sat down. The deer stepped forward, and she arched fiercely once again. He eyed her calmly, steadily.

I called and called, but nothing would persuade our Guard Kitten to leave her post. Eventually the deer glanced at me, invisibly shrugged his shoulders, and walked around another way. Maya immediately collapsed into a little limp heap on her flagstone.

She seemed relieved but proud when I ran over to pick her up. At great peril to herself, she had singlehandedly saved our home and lives from the ravages of a deadly killer deer! I did my purr-imitation into her fur, to show her I was proud of her bravery too.

Bucky made his way to the back of the garden and hopped over the 8' fencing with ease. I photographed his antlers backlit by the early morning sun, as he got ready to hop the fence.

A Welcome Addition to the Family

We'd been thinking that the time was coming to get a kitten. Our cat and dog both died in December. The bunnies are fun, but the don't bond and play with us the way cats and dogs do.

When I got back from Sedona, we decided to start looking for the right kitten. One night I dreamed all night long of playing with a calico kitten. I'd wake up and return into the same dream. The next morning I visited the Humane Society. There was one calico kitten, a long-haired little calico girl. She was sweet and sleepy and friendly, so we took her home. Somehow, Gary and I both thought of the name Maya, after playing with her for a few hours. Maya she is! As I type this, she is snoozing on my desk, paws on the keyboard.

She's been part of our family for over two weeks now. She's learned how to play without using her claws. It took awhile, but she's finally learned that bad things happen to her when she pounces on our fluttering eyelids in the middle of the night! And she's discovered that her bunny brothers run away when she tries to wrestle with them.

Our family rhythm is developing. Maya sleeps all night without waking us, at last. When she awakes, she spends half an hour being petted, purring loudly and tumbling in happy somersaults between Gary and me. This seems to be her bonding time. We eat breakfast on the back patio. Bunnies and kitten come out and lie together on the cement at our feet. Then they chase each other around the garden paths for awhile. When it gets hot they all traipse in the house, and we close the door to keep the heat out. In the evenings, we gather in the living room - humans on the sofa, four-leggeds on the rug. Maya goes wild for an hour, attacking everything in sight and leaping into the air for fun. If I take a bath, she hops onto the edge of the tub, then steps gingerly onto my chest. She stands there with dry feet and drinks from the bathwater, then hops back out. What an adventurous lass she is! Then we all go to bed. Maya starts her night's sleep by draping herself like a noodle-scarf across my throat or Gary's, purring.

It's hard to resist the baby-love she exudes. Her sweetness is healing our grief and bringing a new style of fun into our home.

Part 7: The Last of Sedona

The comfortable hotel in Sedona was no small part of the trip. The Red Rocks Lodge is perched on top of a mesa overlooking the town of Sedona. A circle of gargantuan mesas are eye-level from the hotel's mesa-top. West Sedona appears to be miles and miles below. My room was nicer than I'd expected, with a little gas fireplace in the corner and two giant beds. Sorry you missed it, Birdie! The beds were comfy, and the landscaped pool and jacuzzi area was just a few steps away. Young jackrabbits hopped around the lawn, reminding me of how fortunate I am to have pettable rabbit friends in my home.

My sister and I hung out on our joint back porch and sewed/ designed / glued gifts for our brother's birthday ceremony. After the ceremony, he came back to our room with us and admired all of his gifts. Here is a photo of a 50 year old Peter. I still remember holding him on my lap as my baby brother! Looks like he grew up and got all handsome.

The drive back was much like the drive out. I do love the peace and quiet of driving across country with only myself for company. Nonetheless, when I got home to my own husband, rabbits and exquisitely comfortable bed, it was a relief.

Part 6 - The Greatness of Wide Open Spaces

In Sedona, it's easy to feel expanded and relaxed. The scale of life is unique there. With gargantuan rock formations hovering above all, reflecting a thousand centuries of life, my existence is small. In that smallness, I feel like a part of those ancient centuries myself. My trail of footprints is one more element in the millenia since this land was once under water. One day it may be under water again. A diver from the future may find my bootprint on some underwater hillside, and wonder.

The upper photos were taken as the three of us aging siblings hiked into the wilderness beyond Sedona. The rock wall in the photo is next to where we ushered Peter into his second half of this life. The three of us sat on the sandy ground behind a giant boulder, near Oak Creek. We ceremonially told him what we appreciated about him in his first half of his life. Then we asked him what he wanted to take with him into his second half-century, and what he wanted to leave behind. Lastly, we gave him our wishes and our family's wishes for him in the coming years. He received gifts from family and friends that we brought along. Then we all sat against the boulder, eating and listening to the trees rustle amid birdsong.

Part 5 - Sedona AZ

Sedona Arizona at last! Sedona is a small town nestled between mesas and buttes taller than the imagination can comprehend. These dwarf even my beloved Colorado red rocks. It's hot and dry, but Oak Creek flows through the edge of town. In the Oak Creek Canyon, the air is cooler and moister. Breathing is an enjoyable activity there.

You can see my sister photographing the primary formation that overshadows the town of Sedona. The bottom photo shows me with my sister and one of our brothers, outside Sedona. If you look closely, you can see a small village beneath that rock formation.

Can you find the chameleon on the branch, in the top photo?

Part 4 - Badlands Visitor Center

I stopped at this Visitors Center in the New Mexican Badlands. The light is so stark there, that it makes for interesting contrasts. The air smelled like sage, cedar and dust for two days as I crossed the volcanic desert at six times the speed of the old wagon trains. Fast as I was driving, I felt rested by the lack of urban noise, color, shapes and lights. Nature can be peaceful in the desert, even through a car window.

Part 3 - Evidence of Enduring Cuteness

Yes, it looks as if my grandson is still cute! I got in a wonderful day of visiting him. I gave him a plastic elephant, which is pictured here drinking from the water bottle "because his nose is thirsty!". In the top photo, Ethan and his mom and I are all wearing matching candy necklaces, courtesy of Grandma.

Part 2 - Driving Through Navajo Country

I drove for hours and hours and hours and hours on a long, straight road with very little other traffic. This part of the world is built of prickly hills and red mesas and camouflaged wildlife. It was an exciting diversion when I passed a truck that seems to have hit another truck, and somehow boxes were spilled all over the highway. Those metallic sheets in the photo are the fallen-over sides of two long trucks. It was hard to figure out exactly what happened, but it sure was fun to have something else to look at and think about!

As you can see, Monk was clearly bored by it all, looking the other direction as we passed.

My radio was tuned to a Navajo station around this area. I love to listen to that language, so unique, so otherworldly. Between drumming songs and ancient country western songs, the announcer will say things such as: Ah nak'ka watta hotah BUDDY'S AUTO SHOP eenahyay. I just made up the Navajo words, there, but that's about how it sounds. I always hope that, if I listen long enough, I will start to know what they're saying. And the longer I drive through that kind of country, the more possible the hope seems.

Across the Western Moonscape

Photos of the bizarre New Mexican Landscape!
Better photos are coming soon, when I get a little more time.

My traveling companion ended up entertaining a strep bug, right before our trip began. That left just my stuffed monkey and me to make the drive on our own.

Monk spent most of the trip on the dashboard, but occasionally stuffed himself into a space in the steering wheel for a change of scenery. I photographed him on a few occasions, just to prove we were there.

We traversed the moonscape that is western New Mexico and eastern Arizona. These photos were snapped one-handed while I drove, so pardon the poor quality. The first one is a random mesa in New Mexico. The second one - yes, it's sideways alright - is Monk sitting on volcanic rock in the badlands. New Mexicans call that area El Malpais, which translates literally as The Badland. Ages ago, a volcano spewed lava for hundreds of miles around. El Malpais is strewn with cascades of porous lava rock, lava tubes, frozen lava waterfalls tumbling down hillsides. The bottom photo is of one of those lava fields. (If Dick Jones is reading this: I stopped and got you a lava rock! I want to mail it to you.)

These types of long drives are heaven for me. The peace and quiet are balm for my harried life. There's enough air to breathe, enough silence to hear my soul, enough silence to eventually inspire me to start singing. A speeding car is the perfect venue for my vocal stylings, and nobody else has to hear it or form an opinion!

I stopped at several Indian reservations and browsed around their stores, at the artwork. It always twists my heartstrings when I see their stores selling Chinese replicas of their own art, in addition to the authentic stuff. I'm sure there's enough logic and profit for them to be persuaded to do that.... but its pretty awful in my opinion. I was hoping to get some blue corn frybread, but none of the stands were open.

I had a vivid, powerful dream of a tall Kachina who said his name was Thunderbird. He operated on me, to heal me. I'd love to find out if there is such a Kachina. In a brazen moment, I told one of the Laguna Indian men in a store that I was trying to find out about a Kachina named Thunderbird. He said the Zia tribe has a Thunderbird kachina, but I haven't been able to confirm it. Within my dream at least, he was a reality.

ROAD TRIP!!

The highway has missed me. I can feel its longing for my car's tires. That longing calls to me in my sleep and during my busy, exhausting days.

The poor lonely highway even sends me mental images of those long straight stretches of open road laid across the ranchland south of here. Those images haunt my days and nights too. Wide open road with only a car or two for company... cup of steaming fragrant Earl Grey tea in my hand... box of cookies on the seat beside me... stuffed monkey Monk poked into the space in my steering wheel. Monk is my traveling companion.

So I found an excuse, and am preparing to embark on another long road trip! Two days of driving blissfully across prairies, past mesas and buttes, past herds of camouflaged antelopes, singing to the radio, enjoying the peace, soaking up the sunlight. I'm headed to Sedona Arizona to join with my sister to celebrate my brother's half-century of life.

This time I'll have a human traveling companion too. I suspect she won't be much like my husband when it comes to traveling habits. He loves to drive and get there fast, without stopping spontaneously to enjoy random sights and mysteries along the way. We haven't discussed this aspect, but I'm sure our drive will involve more fun than just driving. (Not sure if I'm allowed to mention names, so my companion shall remain nameless for the moment.)

I am SO EXCITED about this adventure! The confinement of constant work can be wearing. Lack of work can be just as wearing, but in a different way. I am grateful that people want what I have to offer, and benefit from it, are appreciative, and pay me. But I am SO EXCITED about laughing, resting, swimming, hiking, and eating things that are bad for me because I don't have to be in top shape for any clients the next day!

My batteries need recharging, and they're about to get it.
See you all in a week! It's time for this willow to get wandering again!!!!!!
* * * * * * * *

Hope Smothered In Reality

Damp, heavy snowflakes the size of silver dollars fell between the raindrops yesterday and landed on my bright new pink tulips.

Hope, covered with a dose of reality.

My Mom is undergoing chemotherapy during these few months. After a lifetime of a strong, healthy constitution, an aggressive cancer suddenly struck. She is 80 years old. Even after three doses of chemo, she still feels good. No nausea. Her hair is gone, but she has a little fringe at the front, so when she wears her pink ball cap, it looks like she still has some hair. She and her pink cap drive around town, doing volunteer work and visiting friends. The wake-up-call of cancer reminded her to love everything, enjoy everything, be glad about everything, and to say so to her loved ones. She had to put off taking a cruise with some friends, but plans to take a cruise after the chemo is done.

I struggle to balance my elation over her steadfast health, with the fact that it is, after all, cancer. Our family has always had a silly joke about the number 81 being a bad number somehow, so I really want her to be 81 years old. I want the chance to harrass Mom about being 81, as we were able to do for a whole year with Dad. And then I want her to be even older and even healthier, for as long as she wants to be.

Hope, coated with a dose of reality.

* * * * * * * *

Miss Popularity

I've been DISCOVERED.

I've been doing the work I do for years, decades actually. Holistic energy healing is the general category of my work. In the last few years, it has gotten to be much more accurate and helpful than previously.

Suddenly, in 2007, everybody took notice. All my clients are referring me to their friends and relatives, who then refer me to their other friends. I'm so booked, I barely have a moment to do anything other than work or related paperwork, or planning for classes that I'm giving.

I love what I do! That's the good part. It's amazing to get paid for doing something that feels like a privilege to do. This is just an adjustment period, as I juggle like crazy.

My apologies for not blogging more, at least to explain my sudden absence. I'll be back soon!

with love to all,
The Wandering Willow

Garden Visitors

Six young does visited our garden yesterday, in search of scarce winter greenery. They didn't find much, but it was plenty for these hungry girls. They are mule deer yearlings. 

Our Christmas Fireside

I like this photo of our living room fireplace, minus a fire, at Christmastime. 

Heartbeat of Home

Down between the polished wood floorboards
in the dank sweetness of moist ageless earth
My heart beats the rhythm of my chosen home.

I stood one August on the grassy slope by the apple tree
stared at the staccato mountain peaks looming over the roof
and claimed this piece of the world to be mine for awhile

Mine, shared with the teeming life under and above the grass that grew wild
My home, among dandelions, squirrels, skunks, junipers, apples, plums and birds
I staked my claim and began to build my world
Here.

At first we felt like outsiders
Arranging, exploring, planning
Working, returning tired to unfamiliarity
Waiting for "home" to arrive

Seven years of breathing have changed the air in the house
Breathing my breath onto the woodwork, garden paths and paint on the walls
Breathing in the breath of trees, cat, dog, bunnies, husband, grandsons
Breathing out my dreams and desires
Breathing in their gradual fulfillment

Dented, worn dining table remembers family feasts of thanks-giving
Quiet meals of mourning
Candles spilling wax in glowing darkness
Art projects dripping glue, and that little gouge mark
Gatherings of bright-eyed friends birthing plans onto paper
Annual drying of a dismayed cat after her bath
And always newspaper mornings with tea

I light a fire, straighten my favorite painting, sweep the walk again
I no longer notice the click-hum of the furnace
Backyard graves of furry beloveds nourish the new spring growth
Fox and deer know my routines as I know theirs

The earth knows my heartbeat, here in my chosen home.

Snow Bunnies

What do rabbits do in the snow? Not this zero-degree ice, mind you, but the lovely fluffy snow we had a week or two ago. What do bunnies do in the snow? They romp, scamper, dig, lick, leap, twirl and invent mid-air acrobatic moves to express their delight. With their fur coats and thick fur slippers, cold only stimulates their systems in a happy way. For evidence, check out these photos of Ziggy (white with black-brown-gray) and Sandy (sandy) enjoying every second of their snow day.

Arctic Rest

High in a cottonwood tree’s spindliest branches, a redtail hawk brazenly rests. A raucous circle of glossy crows surrounds him. They battle for winter survival. The sub-zero air sparkles with frozen crystals – seeds that will become snow if the sun warms things up some.

Our back yard looks like a field of Bushes A La Mode – dollops of vanilla snow pile up on every surface. Fox footprints embed themselves in a deep white trail from northern clothesline to southern fence. The footprints are far apart and single file. This fox was in a hurry to hunt some mice and get back to her warm den. She should check our garage, where they’re hunkered down in a nest of packing peanuts under the cold cement steps.

Life is lived at a quieter, more desperate pace when an arctic blast arrives. Our rabbits stay in their room most of the day, fluffed in a two-part ball of sleep. When mealtime arrives, they gorge. We humans nap by the woodstove, softly snoring the cedar-warmed air.

I dream only of winter rest.

2006 in Review

Here in Wandering Willow land, I plan to celebrate the changing of the year by re-posting my favorite writings from each month in 2006. This is especially important since my computer crashed and forced me to develop this new blog and abandon my old one.

For today, here is my look at 2006 and its various features.

WHAT I DISLIKED MOST ABOUT 2006

G. Bush and cohorts in our White House

Problem-ridden electronic voting machines still being used

All TV sitcoms and dramas depicting the popular culture of lying, deception and cruelty

PBS booting Bill Moyers out of "Now"

The politics behind the war in Iraq and media coverage thereof

The movie version of “The DaVinci Code”

The latest movie version of “The Pink Panther”

The little white jets that fly overhead leaving crosshatches of white trails that spread out and turns our blue skies gray. (Contrails don’t do that.)

Dealing with a limiting injury for an entire year

Crutches!!

Not having medical or dental insurance

The sudden death of my constant companion and coworker, Gypsy the Dog

Slowly saying goodbye to my 20-year best friend, Puff the Cat

WHAT I LIKED MOST ABOUT 2006

The rain returning to Colorado!

The song “All Will Be Well” by Gabe Dixon

My new CD of Vladimir Horowitz playing Rachmaninof

The book “The DaVinci Code”

The movie “The Secret”

The movies “Pirates of the Carribbean” “Walk the Line” and “Ray”

Internet radio version of San Francisco’s radio station KFOG

The alternative news service www.nhne.org , where I get my news from

PBS and its wonderful programs, despite its new executives

Everything ever written by Ken Wilber

Ken Wilber’s radio interview show “Integral Naked”

Finding a genuine perspective in which life on earth is completely wonderful

Visiting my family and playing with my grandbaby

Eating fresh food right from the garden

Trees, rocks, blue skies, sand, wind, water, fire in the woodstove

Healing from my injury, and starting to hike again

Writing my book at last

The discovery that using diluted peroxide as a mouthwash whitens my teeth

Realizing how many people considered my amazing and beautiful dog Gypsy to be a real personal friend of theirs, and how many people truly appreciated her

Spending Puff’s last weeks in a camaraderie celebrating our decades together