RIP - or not.

Rest in peace.

What does that mean? Do we actually mean that? Rest in peace? When someone dies, do they actually "rest in peace?" 

I doubt it.

I looked up where this phrase came from; and of course, the Catholics came up and more than even the origin of the phrase was it's original Latin and how to properly pronounce the "ce" sound (it's like "kay" in case you were wondering).  It did say that it has to do with the soul and body resting in peace until they are re-united on judgement day.  I don't know about you, but if my body at any point becomes worm food, I'm pretty sure I don't want it back on judgement day. I'll take that new one, Jesus, please, please... 

a post for progress

I was talking with a friend of mine tonight about her recent conversion to the "hippy" life.  Then I mentioned how quickly my little hippy conversion happened. Like... in the course of about fifteen minutes.

Then I thought, the garden (what else?).  The transformation from last year to this year - for a piece of land untouched by anyone really... but me (occasionally with help)... it's pretty dramatic.  See?

June 2012/April 2013

what those idiots on pinterest don't tell you

[Disclaimer. There are two ways you can read this. You can think 1: My stars this girl complains a lot...  I'm disgusted with her attitude. OR 2: My stars this girl complains a lot... but it's funny and I'm going to learn from her mistakes - while having a good laugh.]

11: Grow all my own herbs and veggies.

The garden.

My precious, wonderful, well-loved garden.

The soil kind of sucks and is mostly full of roots from the trees I chopped down last year.  It's 99.9% ready-to-throw-in-a-kiln clay and therefore the plants struggle to form roots like truth struggles to permeate through the liber... oh wait. I probably shouldn't say that.

So I decided I'd build raised beds and use the topsoil that I could scrape up and pull the roots out of, mix it with manure and compost, and at least give the plants a chance.

And then I did what any good innovator would do and scoured Craigslist for free pallets because there is no way I'm going to go buy wood. And I found some!

Behold.

one: make soap

Make soap. As in, oils, water, lye.

I can grate up a bar of Fels-Naptha, mix it with baking soda and borax and call it laundry soap without any real thought.

I've been doing all kinds of research (probably more than is necessary) on how to properly make soap.  Yesterday, I had finally scrounged up all the necessities and got to work.

Thanks to this easy to follow post for clear directions!

ready!

a journey to self-sufficiency

Simply put, necessity breeds creativity.  Take, for example, this picture of Jeanne and Lucie making bracelets:

I would have never thought to use my toes. I would have searched for tape until I didn't want to make a bracelet anymore. 

It started last summer...

I can't wait for peas to grow

(I wrote this over the summer, and was gently reminded of it by one of my kids a couple days ago. So here it is.)

For the record, what was once a forest in our back yard is now a mildly-successful somewhat recognizable as a type of garden-ish space.

Of course, given that I planted everything so late and since the weather has been exceptionally warm lately, perhaps I can decorate the Christmas tree this year with pumpkins?? Maybe I could even carve an angel into a pumpkin and place it atop the tree?! And you thought angels glow. (Glew? Glowed? What should that tense be?)

This is why people in Upstate New York plant gardens before mid-June. But I lived on a bus, and it's not about the final product right now; it's about the process.

[normal people don't do this]

October 26: Had a surprise interview with Asante in Kampala, Uganda

October 27: Was asked to join a tour for Asante, beginning November 5.

October 29: Packed my bags to leave Kampala, found out that because of the hurricane I'd be delayed two days.

October 30: Asante, yes.

October 31: Actually left Uganda. Spent the night in UAE on the way home.

November 1: Arrive in JFK and learn I indeed do NOT have a flight to Rochester. Bum a ride off friends of my mother.

November 2: Arrive home. Unpack. Repack. Sleep. Laundry. Decide to throw a thank you dinner for my supporters, make a bunch of phone calls, run errands. Fill out paperwork and application for a job I already have a flight booked to get to.

November 3: Unpack more. Repack more. Sleep a little. Prepare for the dinner.

November 4: Church. Make oodles of chapati and other prep stuff for the dinner. Have the dinner. Visit friends. Go home. Finish packing. Sleep.

November 5: Fly to Portland, Oregon. Spend the afternoon with a friend, then get dropped at an address. Knock on the door. Ask, "Am I supposed to be here? I'm Amy." Am welcomed in and later ask, "So, who are you and why am I here?"

November 6: Picked up by Asante director and taken to airport to pick other chaps. Training.

November 7: Training. Ha. Training.

November 8: Pile on bus and head to Idaho. Sleep in hotel.

November 9: Pile on bus and head to Wyoming.  Bus dies. Sleep in hotel.

November 10: Wait in the hotel to hear about the bus. Get flights arranged to fly to Minneapolis the next day.

November 11: Leave hotel early and fly to Minneapolis. [END TIME CHANGES FOR TWO MONTHS.]

And.... now I'm sitting in the airport waiting for the Choir to arrive!

Phew.