Moving is change and change puts anyone into a discomfort zone, which always leads to new experiences and growth. But it is disorienting to uproot oneself, especially when leaving one region for another different culture, vibes and terrain. I was feeling good about everything, then sort of had a "where the hell am I?" moment. I simply realized I had to get out and be with the earth and feel it, so
I decided to walk the llama. It made me realize I have many more coping skills than I did when I moved to the first Apifera in 2004 which was real culture shock having lived in the city for so long, and Yamhill is very different than Bremen in so many ways. Here it feels like a village, because it basically is. I imagine E.B. White's house was more contained like this, with gardens and a barn close to the house. {I plan to visit there sometime, it is a good day trip or two days, maybe I'll take Earnest.} Our view is flat, but there is great comfort in that. The picture of the daisy field is looking from the outskirt of The Wood towards the back of the house and where the new bra will be built.
So I am having times of disorientation, usually in the mornings. I seem to awake with memories of my old land, especially the vista from the front porch, looking out over the beautiful garden we created over the years, and up into the hills where the sheep and donkeys often were grazing. Do I miss that? Yes, I do, but I also have this place and I love it and we are new together and deep friendships take time to evolve. I just need some time for my body and head to come together again.
Walking a llama is a pretty nice way to feel the earth. The biggest change in our new farm from the old one is here we sit about 100 feet off a well travelled road. It quiets down to nothing around five. It's not unbearable at all, in fact, as we age it will be good to be closer to a main artery like this especially in winter, something we thought about as we looked at properties. And in time I might have a farm stand or book mobile with my donkey on certain days. Many people put up signs on the roads around here, taking advantage of the summer crowd-everything from antiques, gardens, art, bike repair, upholstery and more.
The front of the house is sweet, but we spend our time in the back, and then the land surrounds us and goes straight back for 30 acres. We have a fledgling garden. The former owner planted peonies and I love them, always have. They remind me of my mother who loved them. I was happy that there are some double ones in front, the ones in the photo are singles but beautiful too. I thought about our garden in Yamhill, how we arrived to nothing except old lilacs [which I loved] and we built that garden and created the rock area...it all took time. We sat and talked about our garden plans here. It will grow and develop and give us pride as our last garden did. This is the first year I won't have a vegetable garden -since we are newly here and have so many things to do first, like the barn-but it's killing me not to have one. I did plant pumpkins and sunflowers, and we have garlic that we are loving in soups, and the fruit trees.
I am more patient with this house, as patient as a normally impatient dreamer can be. But I'm learning things about myself-like when I feel agitated I know I have ways to cope-by walking my llama.
