whirl wind

Sometimes I know somewhere in the back of my head that this whole thing I do is like a whirlwind, and if i stop to look at it it will all fall apart. I have to just keep going- dont stop to look around, just push on to the next thing to be done- because there is ALWAYS a next thing to be done. Once in a great while i allow myself a slight second to open my eyes, look at the things around me in whatever room I am in and whatever is in eye-sight, and say- huh, wow. ok. but then, rite back nose to the grind. I have moments of weakness, i have to say- when i am tired.. when I get soul tired, and I not necessarily doubt, but I have feelings of fear. Feelings of overwhelment. Like, dishes needing to be done compounded with child needing to be fed and crying, and a line out the door while i just stand there and stammer. And while none of this EVER occurs in this amount of intensity, it feels like it does. It gets scary when im tired, my thoughts have at time turned to- How am I going to do this? and Strange feelings of 'is this real'? or 'is this rite?' or 'do i look like an idiot to all around me?' But that was then.. and then wasnt so long ago. I now, know that i must be doing something right. People like it, people come back, people believe in what is done and in the soul of it all. People want to be involved... if i was not doing it rite, im sure Lynette would have stepped in by now.. hhaha.. I wish i could hire help at this time, i sure could use it. I, at times hope I am doing enough for Maggie. This all started so i could be home with her.. but that was when it was a home-based business. now we are public. now we have to be out of home.. which isnt so bad, cause our home is small.. haha. not a home, an apartment, where we live rite now.
My dream is still a house, where i have acreage and chickens. I thought i wanted a farmhouse.. but what i really want is a Victorian. With an amazing hearth and library and porch. And Chickens. :) Always the chickens. And established Apple Trees.. just 6. All i need is 6.
Thinking of the house and pumpkins makes me forget my fears and continue on... Love it.

scales tipped.

So now what? Is it the idea of family and tradition that keeps me plugged in? are we similar enough? no. city mouse vs country mouse. I live in a realm of harry potter and Alice in Wonderland.. I live the Secret. I know My chicken dream, my decorated farmers porch for Christmas, and my wood stove and fire place going in the winter. My home made bread made form eggs from my own clucking friends. *sigh* a dirt road, forest to wander, land to roam. I know that city canyons are not for me, that the diffused light is enticing for a day or two, but i need to sink my toes in the earth. I need to know that the rain water i collect can feed my plants not harm them..
Are we so different that it just doesn't fit together? We both want family, fun, comfort... but its the details i suppose that matter... wires and buildings and people for you, vines and trees and animals for me. *sigh*

16 people spending $25 each is $400.. easy as pie! how about 20 people spending $25 each- thats $500! WE CAN DO THIS!! Yessah!

Ghost Rider....

Began Neil Pert's Ghost Rider Tonight. Obsession with Rush always continues on, ever since I was 16.. Zeke introduced me to them, and I ran with Counterparts, expanding to Roll the Bones, and Fly By Night. It went on from there.. then till Now, 17 years later. I have seen Rush in concert once in that time, and will again this September. I currently sing Ghost Rider.. It feeds my eternal wanderlust. Vapor Trails is the best album since Counter Parts in my opinion. I read 21 pages into Neil's book tonight, I have a feeling he will feed more of my lust.
My wander Lust has been in my system as long as I can remember. Before I could drive a vehicle, I would walk.. all over, long night time walks under the street-light illuminated sidewalks of Old Town Cottonwood; Days spent under the paper-shuffling sounds of the Cottonwood trees, high above me, speaking to my heart.. their earthen scent lingering in my nostrils, filling my soul with their stories of magic (which still do ever so seldomly I encounter one on the East coast.. memories-made-emotion come flooding in.. filling my soul with a breath made of comforting recognition). Then- I would drive. My little Toyota Tercel was always pushed beyond the limits that any vehicle could ask to endure and I was so thankful for it. Alone, I would travel the back roads of any place I could- dirt tracks between desert towns, in high forested mountains, ambling cityscapes. Expansion took me over state borders.... then to New England. I drive. When I need to release, gain perspective through clearing, I drive. I go until I can't go any more, or until time restraints catch up with me on basis of commitments to others. (Although this wasnt always true- at points I have not shown up for hours at a job, or for dinner-making-duties...) The last time I drove, I went until it was so dark and rainy I had to turn around because I was unsure where I was, and low on gasoline. But I was completely refreshed upon my return back to my residence.
Home.. Home is vast expanses of Desert Sky that fill my eyes and chest so full that my breath catches in my chest. Presently, I reside in New England's engulfing trees.. and while I appreciate the flora here in the forests, many times I find my being longing for the open expanse of stars, sun, monsoon clouds caught on fire by the setting sun. I long to know the direction I head by merely seeing the Sun or Moon's place in the sky. Desert runs in my soul, Verde is in my blood... the wind rambling over the dry, dusty earth brings the pull of Hope- Hope of being something more, the pull of something better-by knowing the torment and difficulty of desert life. Desert Life means to struggle to get where one's place is, to get what is wanted, one must WORK for it- the soil, the water, the scorching sun.. nothing is given. It is as in the saying - " to know light one must know the dark..." It makes achievement so much more rewarding, gives so much more meaning to the thing being done, the seedling growing from the cracked, dry palate that is given for such creativity. The earth must be worked, the elements worked around- Wind deterred, flooding avoided, water given... then, and only then, the fruits become much more sweet in reward.
New England is Easy.. soft... posh if you will.
I prefer My desert Life.. I love the thrill of the hunt, the sweat, blood, tears and rage to get the work done for its beautiful reward- almost a tragic beauty. Such is the Soul and My Wander Lust...

isnt sure whats wrong... i feel like i need much comfort, i feel like crying all the time lately. i feel worn and so tired. *sigh* im sad.. :(

this week.

wow, what a week. i have to say, that this past week has been one of the best here yet. It started out with the new hours change for the shop. I actually felt like i had days off, finally. And what good days off I had, Maggs and I did all kinds of good things. This home is starting to feel livable. (did i really just write home?) Maggs always says Home is Steven's house. While I agree, I think that this is our home for now.
Then there has been shop life this week, wow, what a ride! all kinds of good people and things just popping up. It really amazes me the way the Universe works. Love it, love it, love it!
So, thats all. Good things and more good things. Thank you Universe :)

Triupped Silly.

....is realizing she is spending too much time on other people. I opened the shop to do my thing. to make and sell my product line.. and my shop is FULL of other people's crap. Well, not crap, but not my stuff. My stuff has one little shelf, and a wall sort of. The wall is nice, but its half supplies. sheesh.
Hm, i have gotten so far away from the core of what I was doing, I have made myself miserable. Go figure, hu? Cool thing is, I can fix this- this is my shop. ;).