Picture of the Day: Covered Bridge outside Scio, Oregon

One of the many covered bridges in Linn County, Oregon, the covered bridge capital of the West.

I think this pic is cool for a number of reasons:

1. Aesthetically, I love the the shapes and shadowing of this covered bridge and how the perspective goes from a wide view to a narrower focus on the distance.
   
   
2. It fits the title of my blog page, "On the road to Critter Farm" very well. When I took this picture, we were, indeed, on the road to a critter farm: the Lighthouse Farm Animal Sanctuary, http://www.lighthousefarmsanctuary.org/ .
   
   
3. I like to find metaphors for life in my pictures. I view this image as a metaphor for my own life: I am currently someplace beautiful and the road ahead, although quite different from where I am now, will be equally beautiful. In other words, slow down, enjoy where I am presently, all things in moderation, cautiously dream of tomorrow. I have a good life now even though I feel the future holds bright things. (Don't you think a lot of us need occasional small reminders to enjoy each day and not be perpetually tunnel-vision-focused on the future?)
   
   

What will I do on my 7.62 acres? (Cont'd from 10/26/07)

I'm sitting here today getting my mind around why I am pushing so hard for this move. What is there for me on 7 1/2 acres that propels me physically and mentally away from a most comfortable city life? There are so many unknowns. What do I really know about our future on this land?

I know for sure that:

1. We will have chickens. I like chickens.
2. We will have goats. Goats are funny.
3. We will grow sunflowers and other pretty blooming things. I'm good at this.
4. We will have some fruit trees. I've never had those before.
5. I will bake some amazing bread. Bread is an incredible comfort food.
6. There are surprises ahead for us. These surprises will be both good and bad.
   

What I, personally, would like is:

1. to take in abandoned, neglected or abused animals.
2. to create a calm and safe home for them.
3. to learn the difference between hay and straw. :-)
4. to have one or two horses (Jim isn't convinced yet).
   

What I don't know yet is:

1. how to help my animals most effectively.
2. how I will afford all this.
3. whether to create an official sanctuary or refuge.
4. if I should establish a 501 (c) (3) non-profit as a means for support.
5. if I should market the farm as a learning tool for children and their parents, allowing them access to and experience with animals they might not see every day.
6. whether I will have enough free-range eggs from my incredibly happy hens to give to all my friends who are anxious for them. :-)

It's all about the animals

In case I didn't make it completely clear in my very first post, it's all about the animals for me. This move my family is planning - the departure from city life to become country dwellers - is, for me, about living with the animals.

From the time I was small, I was always been a bit of a loner. I never had a clique, I didn't get into, or invited to, the bigger social gatherings, and I tended to maintain just a handful of close friends. I hated dolls and dresses and the all traditional "girl" stuff, choosing instead to obsess over animals - real and stuffed. My collection of fuzzy, stuffed, silent pals numbered over 200. (This was a frightening number, if you ask my mom. She will tell you about the time we realized all 200 had fleas due to a summer doggy flea infestation - ewwwww!! To me, of course, this was just proof that my so-called "stuffed" beasts were indeed quite real!)

My childhood was filled with living pets and critters of all kinds, too. They came to me both with and without parental permission. Dogs and cats and hamsters. A Shetland pony for a short time. A huge white rabbit named Marmaduke. An Alpine goat named Rodney and a black-faced lamb named Savannah. Even though it didn't dawn on me at the time - my world always felt so random - there was a very consistent, distinct pattern (and calling?) in my life.

And so...

Peace for me is when I am in the presence of animals. Their unconditional nature is a powerful thing. They just are - and they are fine with this. When I am near them, I feel healed and healthy. I feel productive and filled to the brim with thoughts and ideas and energy. When I am away, I plot and plan how to get close again.

This is what I'm doing from the kitchen table in my city home today, Sunday, November 11th, 12:42pm: plotting and planning.

Paper Towels

Growing up, my family didn't have a lot of money. Being the child I was, though, I was never aware that we didn't have much money. In my world, we always had "enough" and there was never anything I suffered over for not having (other than a horse). The thought never once occurred to me that my parents were skimping and saving and occasionally challenged to make the money stretch to meet our needs. Hearing stories now from my mom about how she was given a $7.50/week grocery budget always makes me chuckle and shake my head. Imagine: $7.50!!

One memory I do have, though, haunts me oddly in my daily adult life. This memory is about paper towels.

Paper towels were considered a luxury in the home that I grew up in. I never knew any different, I just knew that some weeks we had paper towels (apparently the grocery budget was $7.80 that week) and other weeks we didn't. When we did have them, they were guarded and metered out, only for use in "important" situations. I can remember my mom telling me "Not so many - paper towels are expensive!" and hearing an occasional panicked "Don't waste those!".

Now that I'm an adult and have my own weekly grocery budget, I always purchase paper towels. There is rarely a time when my house doesn't have paper towels, and, if it does, it is never for more than a day. It's an odd requirement of mine to always have paper towels handy.

And yet, old lessons die hard...I always buy the very cheapest paper towels. I always, always spend time walking up and down the paper goods aisle to make sure I have, indeed, purchased the cheapest rolls. And, in my daily home use, I always, *always* feel a flash of guilt every time I tear off a sheet for use.

Country Girl Trapped in a City Girl's Life

Hello. Danni here. My first-ever blog entry and I'm struggling with how to start. What a dork.

So here goes...my thoughts today, 10/26/07, 12:13p.m....

I want to be - I belong - in a place where I have the space to enjoy many animals as my companions. I have known this about myself since I was a kid. I am calm and centered and happy when I have my critters around me. I love how they smell, I love how interesting they are to watch, I love caring for them, I love how they can just "be".

And so I find myself, after years of contemplating and wishing and planning and dreaming about moving to a place with a bit of land and a barn, on the verge of having this all come true. Will this truly finally happen? It sure seems that way.

With many of my friends referring to me as "Farm Girl" these days, the thought of actually now *becoming one* both thrills and terrifies me. What the hell do I know about living on a farm? I can't even tell you the difference between straw and hay!

Can I really let the city-girl trappings (high-tech job, strappy shoes, manicures, hi-speed internet, good neighbors 50 feet away in all directions, 10-minute access to downtown PDX, etc.) go and live in rural Oregon?

Yes. I think so.

I am drawn to the rural life. It seems like much of what I've been doing over the years has been slowly leading me to making this lifestyle change.

Without expecting to find anything, I went property hunting over the summer. I just wanted to investigate what was out there. I was fantasizing (again) about changing our lives. I was dreaming (again) of getting closer to the land, growing things, and slowing down our frantic, pressure-filled pace. I was dreaming (as always) of the animals. And then I found this place - this peaceful, sweet-smelling, gentle-aired, beautiful place.

It was different from what I had imagined initally: the house was too big, it wasn't the "traditional" farm (flat and treeless with lots of pasture), it was too much $$, it was too far away. But somehow, it was also perfect. I took pictures. I showed the pictures to people, lots of people. I kept talking about it. Finally, I took Jim to see it. He'll get this place out of my system with just a few quick words, I thought. Instead, and to my incredible surprise (how well I thought I knew this man), he loved it. So, we threw ourselves out there and decided to give it a shot: We made an offer on this house. The offer was accepted. The sale is contingent on the sale of our current home.

Our house went on the market on Wednesday evening. We've had two showings so far with another scheduled for this evening. I'm holding my breath, keeping my fingers crossed and doing all the other good luck things I can think of. This is the worst home-buying market in over a decade. I seem to have impeccable timing like that sometimes.

Even aside from the beauty of the property, the house we've found is lovely. It sits on 7 1/2 acres and is nestled among huge fir trees. It feels like a forest retreat. It will be an amazing place for my animals. It will be a wonderful place for sitting outside, slowing down, having friends over for the weekend, and just enjoying the simpler things (i.e., no speeding cars, aggressive, angry people, or buying tons of shit just because one can). Hmmm...that last thought, an unsubtle opinion, just jumped out of the dark recesses of my brain and onto this page. My apologies.

Life in the country. I do think I'm ready. But, wow - this is going to be a ton of work!....

To be continued.

:-)Farm Girl