Celebrate Life

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.

Change in Perspective

This morning I had a minor mascara tragedy. And a shoe debacle. And then while walking across 42nd street toward Grand Central Station a taxi cab busted a U-Turn right in the middle of the street and came up on the sidewalk where many people are shuffling along like robots floating along one of those moving walkways like they have at huge airports.

Then, the lovely staff at the USPS were not so nice to me with all their, "you should have had this done already," "no we don't have tape but we sell tape," "step to the side please to fill out your forms...." Granted, I am usually 100% prepared and expect very little from these people, but I just needed an extra hand this morning. Literally. I needed someone who didn't talk over me or look at me like I just fell of the turnip truck.

Can't I just go back to my neighborhood, sit at Java Girl journal, read, dip a biscotti in my coffee, and move outside to sit in the sunshine when I get bored with my window seat?!

However, after reading my "Jesus Calling" devotional and being challenged to stop "planning and evaluating" and to start "trusting and thanking" I was determined to press on, smile, and count my blessings. So, when I stepped out of the office and out onto the bustling street to get some coffee a 10:30AM I gave the customer in-front of me my frequent customer stamp, since I AM about to leave the city. I'm only two stamps in and I will not be buying seven more cups of coffee this week.

She was ecstatic when I said, "She can have my stamp because I'm leaving the city next week."

"You made my day! Where are you going?" (This is always asked by strangers/ New Yorkers when they hear I'm leaving the city.) Most of them are excited and seem highly interested when I tell them where and why....)

"My husband and I are moving to upstate New York to be apprentices on a farm. We are going to live and work there while learning organic, sustainable farming. Then, after the season is over we hope to move back home to Texas." (and if the conversation lingers...) "Perhaps we will apply what we've learned on a large scale, maybe not, maybe we'll just have our own garden and do something else. Something we are passionate about."

My boots stepped out onto the pavement (and not my cute open-toed shoes or summer shoes... because they are in storage already) and I smiled, half-caf-splash-of-soy coffee in hand. I'm happy to chat with strangers. To brighten their day. To possibly make them think.

I believe that The Chambers risk, our busting out of the ordinary, our plunge into something we've always desired to do, but not really knowing if we could do it- makes people think. It causes others to consider why they stay where they are, why they don't try or move or ask or do the unthinkable. Just being interested in something is not enough, there has to be passion. Wanting to live an okay, good or average life instead of an amazing one is not right.

The Chambers are not geniuses (well, I am not!) or lucky or rich, we are just very passionate people. One a dreamer. One an overachiever. I think we each push the other toward greatness. We really compliment the other. And I'm not scared about these next eight months. If it's where God leads us, he will provide. Thus far he's kept his promise. We've been blessed beyond measure these past few weeks.

Welcome Spring

FROM NEW YORK CITY:

Spring Baskets for sale at the Union Square Farmers Market last Saturday

A table full of greens: Collard, Mustard, Kale, Swiss Chard, Rainbow Chard, Russian Kale, Bok Choy...

FROM THE FARM:

A photo a days work: rows in the first greenhouse, mixing the topsoil with the compost

The thyme that was just planted four days ago, is already sticking it's little head above the dirt.

Farm Fresh

Chris started his days on the farm last Thursday. In two working days I feel like he has learned so much. I look forward to his phone calls each evening anticipating the activity of the day.

Thursday was spent planting numerous vegetables: basil, artichokes, rosemary, onions, shallots.... And most of Friday was spent spreading manure in the six greenhouses.

He's so far ahead of me already, I'll definitely need some pointers, tips and overall help. Being a perfectionist I'm feeling very remedial already and I don't like it! Chris is even going to attend two different courses in the next couple of weeks on days that the farmer has business of the farm to attend to. Classes? On garlic?! (((sigh)))

He texted me this picture of farm fresh eggs and "one was still warm." Eating eggs from chickens that peck and scratch and graze right outside our door is pretty dang awesome. I can only imagine what the summer will bring when produce is in peek season and we are harvesting and packaging and eating all sorts of veggies.

Living in the barn apartment/ root cellar has it's disadvantages ( it's extremely cold) and Chris is creating and building and rearranging to make our place more livable. He's excited about projects and I'm thrilled to still have two weeks in The City, as the barn might be better suited for a fancy lady like myself when I arrive. For instance, I'm thrilled about the shelves he's building in the bathroom for all my lotions and potions and creams.

I miss that man of mine. And I'm sort of bummed to miss out on the daily activities around the farm. But, it'll happen for me soon enough.

Though I wasn't driving through the beautiful back country roads, exploring new communities or shopping the Super Target this weekend, I did get out and enjoy some of my favorite places in New York.

Saturday was splendidly beautiful and I started my morning with a cup of Raspberry flavored coffee at Java Girl. I journaled. I sat. I contemplated how I could most avoid all the mayhem and drunkenness of Saint Patrick's Day. And overall it wasn't that bad.

After my 11:00am filling (boo!) I took the bus down to the East Village and just did what I like to do most: wander and look and eat and sit. I spent plenty of time in the Farmers Market. I bought some used books and a Finish Rye Roll for $1.00.

It was sunny. It was my idea of a nice Saturday afternoon. After getting home at 4:30 or so I planned on going out again for a walk along the East River, but I stayed in and did laundry. Two Saturdays left in NYC and I'm home doing laundry and watching Modern Family on Hulu.... Hey, it makes me happy!

Birthday Week has begun!

I got a package in the mail today.

As much as I really wanted to save in until next Friday, March 23rd, my actual birthday.... I just couldn't.

The box contained wonderful gifts I can use on the farm. An amazing hat that fits perfectly. I'll post pictures of me wearing it soon, I promise. A journal - with a leaf on it, spiral bound, with lines. And two brand new pens, the "click" type. This is from my best friend in Texas. This is because she knows me. She knows I have to have spiral bound, lined notebooks and click pens.

I can not get over how amazing this hat is! It has a UPF rating of 50+. According to the tag, "this mean you will be protected from almost 100% of the harmful UVA and UVB rays. Happy Gardening!" Yes, happy gardening indeed!!

Also added to my collection today- Mary Kay's tinted moisturizer in SFP 20. Because I don't want to put Banana Boat on my face... and I'm still sort of fancy!

Halfway There

Mornings are quiet on the farm. Nights even more so. Even Chris likes morning on the farm. The rooster crows at 5:30AM... Then all the lady chicks come around and peck and peep and scratch about the ground.

The paper comes rather early. Then the mail-lady in her teal jeep, later in the afternoon.The farmers wife leaves for work around 7:30AM and gets home around 7:00PM. The routine and comings and going around the farm have a soothing rhythm. It just sort of is-- and it's nice.

Chris and I made it out of Manhattan, although not without drama and tears and a minor melt down when I said sternly into the phone, "I am freaking out here!" (We got separated before we even made it three blocks from the apartment and I was just sure I was going to end up in some place in the Bronx I'd never seen. Or worse, just circling in and out of NYC over and over, having to pay that $12.00 toll each and every time.) This was my second time driving our new (1999 Buick Century 160,000 miles) car. My FIRST time driving in NYC. EVER. White knuckled, jaw clenched and shoulders drawn up under my earlobes, I made it out alive. Trying to tailgate a Budget truck in NYC is not so easy my friends.

We didn't go our usual route, thanks to my little detour. But we did find one another by the grace of God, and we made it to the farm well before 4:00pm on Monday afternoon. Since it was still daylight, we unloaded it all.... Then we unpacked it all. By 11:00pm we had unpacked every cardboard box, Chris had put together a futon and we had turned the gas on to use the oven to make a frozen pizza. I am very embarrassed to admit that our first meal in our farm apartment was a frozen pizza, a pint of Graham cracker ice cream, and beer that we bought from Stewarts. But that's life sometimes.

Tuesday we had a hearty breakfast at the local diner--- well, the diner ten miles down the road. While we noshed our eggs and drank our coffee, Chris and I were amused by the large group of gray haired people who were chatting and discussing community affairs. These twenty or so people made me feel at ease. I miss older people. There are very few gray headed folks in Manhattan.

The weather this time, unlike the last visit, was glorious and bright. The high both days was in the mid-60's and the wind wasn't even an issue. Dark clouds did roll in midday Tuesday and the farm quickly became muddy and wet again. Drainage and dampness are a major issue at the farm. Creating run-off and keeping things from rotting are serious concerns-- and upon our first visit to the farm it was very apparent. I'm going to get very muddy in the next eight months, for sure.

We continued the productivity of the trip and opened a checking account at the local bank, got a safe deposit box, took all of our boxes labeled "TX" to storage and dumped an old wicker couch at the city dump. We plan on leaving our futon when we leave the farm in November, so ..... that's that. Hope no one minds!

When I caught the 4:15pm train back to Penn Station from Albany, I felt good about leaving Chris. Well, let me clarify, I cried when I left Chris. I hate it when we are apart. BUT, I was glad that I wasn't leaving him with a stack of unopened boxes, an apartment in disarray and a "to-do" list a mile long. There were no groceries in the refrigerator, but he'll get hungry soon enough. I think he knows where to buy food. Besides gas stations and fast food restaurants.

So, I'm back in New York City for fifteen more days, if I can last that long. I have dinners planned and drinks and dates for fro-yo and walks in Brooklyn. Next Friday I'll turn thirty-two and celebrate with a lovely group of ladies. I am happy I have some time, without thinking about packing or sorting or taking things to charity... to just enjoy these last few days of living here. But sometimes I think it may actually make it harder to leave. Like one of those bad break-ups that drags out over a few days. "Please don't leave me." "Are you really breaking up with me?" "No, don't go!" Do you really want to stay with someone who's said, Hey, it's over?

Today is Chris's first day of work on the farm. He was very concerned about what to wear, which I found terribly funny. He said the plan was to spread manure, by tractor, and then by the wheelbarrow full into the greenhouses. Fun.

I'm thinking of buying a Farmer's Almanac. But that might just be too over the top. Cliche'? Maybe I just need to get out and stomp around in some manure.

Scenes from The Farm

Driving to The Farm- it was below freezing and there was snow on the ground.

No one warned me!

Right to Farm Life Law's are in effect.

The Farm we'll be working on

(notice one of the three greenhouses in the far left corner of the photo.

This is where I hope to be working until June.)

That is the "front door" to our new home.

Welcome Home Farmer.

Nothing better than sharing a bottle of wine with the one I love.

The next morning when we awoke, we celebrated six years of marriage.

NYC: Dentist Number Three

I know I shouldn't, but I take it personal when the dentist tells me I have a cavity. And receding gums. And worn tooth enamel. And should be wearing a tooth guard when I sleep.

"Do you grind your teeth?" Not that I know of. (I mean come on, when I read all the causes and symptoms I sound like a prime tooth grinder candidate.)

"Do you brush pretty hard" Yes.

"The reason you're sensitive to hot/ cold is because your tooth enamel is worn and your dentin is beginning to show." And when your tooth enamel is gone, it's gone. Bye-bye, adios. And I'm 32.

"Do you drink alot of sodas (maybe one a month- diet/ sugar free) or eat raisins or alot of dried fruit?" I do eat dried fruit, about as much as the next guy. Not even once a week. Not all the time. I think the dentist is imagining me with a bowl of skittles or apricots or gummy bears just noshing away, all day long. I am not. I do like sugar though, but I don't think I have a problem... (until my dentist brings it up) it's not a weekly habit.... But isn't this place beautiful. I got some lovely treats from here for Valentines. Oh, European/ Nordic countries, you do gummy candies so, so well!

I just have bad teeth and I feel guilty about it. I do everything a can, and blah! I don't think I've gone a year and a half without needing a sealant or filling or cavity re-filled or something. Seriously.

Luckily my insurance paid for 100% of this painful visit. I get my cavity filled on Saturday, March 17th. Joy. I was also asked if I wanted to get "fitted for a tooth guard." No thanks. I'll stop by CVS on the way home. I'm pretty sure United Health Care would not help me pay the $400 cost of such a lovely thing. I'll start with the $20 buck "one-size-fits-all" guy.

I held back tears more than once. I held my tongue. After no less than twenty painful x-rays I was about to say, "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. No more x-rays." That huge plastic camera being shoved in my mouth at various angles. And yes, I know I'm supposed to "bite down" but understand that, when I do, the bottom and/ or roof of my mouth is being punctured quite severely. It hurts. It feels like I'm cutting my mouth. Repeatedly, like, oh, about twenty times.

In addition to an appointment on March 17th, I left with Sensodyne toothpaste, bloody gums, and a desire to go out and immediately buy fluoride mouth wash, a mouth guard and a new toothbrush.

What Are We Doing?

This weekend Chris and I headed up to The Farm do some pre-move cleaning, rearranging, sorting and to talk through some logistics. It was also our first road trip in our brand new car (1999 Mercury Century) which also got plates, tags, inspected and an interior cleaning. So, now our car is legit and it is all ours. It feels good.

We arrived to the farm right before sunset Sunday evening and spent the better part of six to seven hours doing some massive cleaning. Barn apartments have lots of cobwebs, dirt, dust and dead flies. I am so glad we decided to take this pre-move trip to clean because, well, it really needed it. Previous tenants had left shoes, coats, food items, toiletries, and a kitchen stocked with dishes, pots and pans, cutlery, even a Cuisinart food processor and rice steamer. But, I have all my own kitchen items. *whine* I don't want to move into what feels like someone else's house.

Farmer Thomas (and his wife Liz) assured us none of it belonged to them, so we made piles for recycling, trash, or to take home and wash (a LL Bean coat, some overalls, thermals and dish towels). Many of these random things (a drawer full of VHS tapes, books, and cabinets full of kitchen utensils and cookware) we shoved in one chest of drawers and will not open it again. I'm not sure it could be opened again if we wanted to.

We know it is a temporary situation for us: living pretty rustically in a barn with exposed beams, cement floors, and a bathroom that is shared by other farmhands, however we both still want it to feel like home. Or at least feel like somewhere I want to be. The cleaning helped with that, and the purging and the rearranging.

...

The entire twenty-four hours we were in Valley Falls/ Schaghticoke/ Troy the temperature did not get above freezing. We drove through some snow flurries. There is ice and snow covering the ground where in a few short months kale and beets and gooseberries will grow. I'm scared of the cold. I'm considering buying some serious thermal socks and some long underwear to wear under my pants. I'm scared it won't ever get warm. It was so cold I actually wore some of the previously mentioned dirty clothes I found in the apartment. And two pairs of socks. And a toboggan that was laying on a shelf. Lice? Well, it was cold.

Our apartment has a little heater which is regulated by a thermostat, and it heats pretty well. Our space is in the cellar of the barn, underground and the wind blowing through at night howls something terrible. I must have woken up Chris (who slept with his headlamp on---not turned "on", but wrapped around his forehead.) three times saying, "Chris. Did you hear that?" I knew it was just the wood and sheet metal and old creaky barn, but it was all new. Again. New again. I had to mentally stop myself in that moment and say, "Wait a minute here, Stefani. Have you been in the city so long now that the country scares you? Because you are from the country. It used to be other other way around, stop. Listen."

The silence was massive. The cold extreme. The space we will live in, while larger than most NYC apartments, is old and dark and has spiders. (We killed 12 in less than 24-hours-- thus the headlamp!) But I know I will be alright. I know I will love it (most of the time). I long for not being around so many people all the time and not feeling rushed when I buy my fruit in the market and not feeling trapped.

It's still an amazing opportunity and we are lucky enough to just go and do and trust that it'll all work out. But my flesh says, Yeah, but it's still temporary. Yeah, but it's still not home. And when those feelings bubble to the surface I just have to say--- but it's obedience. And it is going to be amazing. It's actually a better life than I could have dreamed for myself five years ago. Money and storage and gas money and prescriptions and friends and Internet and putting away my engagement ring--- it'll all be fine. It'll be wonderful!

The Last Month

The last month of my life as a New Yorker has begun. Actually, I've never really called myself a New Yorker or truly felt like a New Yorker, but have called the city home for almost five years now. So, leaving will not be easy.

I'm going to miss some people very, very much. Not all 8 million of them, but about eight. (Okay, maybe more than eight...) But, I've cultivated some friendships that have flourishing into deep, meaningful relationships. I know these ladies will not be replaced. These walks around the park, glasses of wine sitting cross-legged in smallish apartments, text messages about sales at Banana or train delays or "Want me to get you some Sbucks? I'm stopping." And I know how she takes her coffee.

I am going to miss the first warm days of Spring, even if it is in May. Brunch at a sidewalk cafe (so, New York.) Macarons. The beautiful sanctuary I worship in each Sunday. Viva Herbal Pizzaria. Summer Stage free concerts in the park. Betty's hugs. Sheppe's sugar cookies. Kim's storytelling. Liala's swaying. Susannah's prophetic word. Kristin's sincerity. Lisa's openness. Heidi's hair.

....

While it's still not home, not Texas, and further away from the Mason Dixon line, I know this opportunity is totally a God given blessing. Chris and I have eight months to learn something we know very little about. I really know enough about farming to be scary. I don't even think I could bluff my way through a one-on-one conversation with a real farmer very well. Last night my first pair of Dickies came in the mail and I look pretty cute in them if I do say so myself. And, unlike my other short and tight attire, there is plenty of room throughout the hips and thighs for squatting and bending and moving.

The reality of farm life will probably not become a reality for me until I'm actually living in the barn, with nothing but the rooster crowing to wake me up. (I threatened to not take our clock last night to Chris.) Nights will be star-filled. The air will be light and clean and smell like mud. And the only thing on my face will be SPF 30 and a smile.

I am afraid of being lonely. Of being bored. Of being forgotten as soon as the U-Haul crosses the Tri-Boro Bridge. I realize that most people would not do this. Most people would not leave the busiest, loudest, most urban, commercially driven city in the world for a farming community of 800 people. People don't quit their jobs for a barn apartment and a monthly stipend that is the annual equivalent of my first part-time, associate manager position at Bath and Body Works in 1999.

But we know there could be nothing better for our mental, physical and spiritual re-awakening as this apprenticeship. Come what may.

...

So now, we are sort of embracing the whole minimalist thing. We are considering going without internet. (WHAT?!) We are dropping our cell phones down to the basic package. And I am thinking about washing my hair with baking soda and apple cider vinegar.

I've never been one for easy, affordable ways to clean your home. I've always felt personal hygiene should be left to Dove, Herbal Essence, and Suave not home remedies. I talk about people would even consider using the diva cup. But friends, all that might just change.

I'll be honest, I'm driven 50% by lack of money. Being poor causes one to get creative with their resources. But the other 50% of me really wants to live a true granola life. (As is living in a barn for eight months is not enough...) Perhaps I'll learn how to make homemade bread, or at least give it a try. Maybe I'll put EVOO and jojoba oil on my face. Maybe I'll stop using bleach all together. Maybe...

I think we may just dive head first into this whole thing. Eating local for a season. (Of course I'd fight for a list of five things, or so, that I can have which aren't local...) What would my five include? Coffee, dried fruit, almonds, Greek yogurt (well, maybe not. Why have Greek yogurt when you can have New York State yogurt?) I'd have to seriously give this some thought... Avocados? Tuna? Qunioa? Oatmeal? (Is there a such things a local oats? I've got to look into this.)

I'll let you know where we land on that.

And, if we do go without internet, you can read about our eight moths away from the city in the book!