Showing posts with label guest bloggers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest bloggers. Show all posts

Friday, January 22, 2021

How a New Matters

A post JB shared on Facebook ... this is my JB ... and this is definitely our not-so-little Sidge too. 

“When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” – C.S. Lewis
It is hard to capture in words the exact feelings I have about an amphibian.
We all have something… or maybe we had something, in the past sense.
There were certain things or people or places that captured our passions as children. It may have been a specific toy. It may have been a specific celebrity, an actor, or a band. It may have been an amusement park.
Once we grow up, we often look back with fondness at that thing. We may even have nostalgia about it.
But the magic has been lost.
We’ve become adults, and so “we’ve put childish things behind us”.
Me? Not so much.
I am still enamored with almost the same things as when I was a child.
I was never into celebrities. I’m not a big fan of amusement parks. And while I had a few toys I was fond of, nothing captured my interest like the natural world.
Birds, trees, mammals, rocks, fish, space, coral reefs, insects, caves, reptiles, rivers, amphibians.
That was what mattered to me.
And they still get me excited.
But there are a few select animals that still get me, well, giddy, is probably the best word. I may hide the external manifestations of those emotions, but on the inside… yeah, it’s giddy.
The Red Eft?
That’s one of those animals. For sure.
I remember reading about the Eastern Newt in my copy of the Reader’s Digest North American Wildlife book given to me by my grandfather. I read through that book countless times, and I still have that book, worn as it is, sitting on my bookshelf.
But there was something about this amphibian that captured my interest. I think it was a combination of the drastic changes this animal undergoes in its life and the absolutely stunning colors it develops.
In general, newts are a type of salamander with, typically, drier and rougher skin. There are a few other ways in which newts differ from the other salamanders, but even the experts don’t have a consensus.
Specifically, the Eastern Newt (Notophthalmus viridescens) lives a life of three phases.
In the first phase, they hatch from an egg in the water and live similar to frog tadpoles.
In the second phase, they lose their gills, change their color, and move to the land; this is the “eft” or terrestrial stage of life, and they live similar to lizards. As an eft, they become bright, almost glowing, reddish-orange, and are one of the most beautiful creatures on earth.
The third and final phase is the adult stage where they turn an olive green and return to the water to live a fully aquatic life once more.
As a child, I wanted to find a Red Eft about as bad as a child could want anything.
I spent hours outside whenever I could.
Growing up in South Florida, I was surrounded by lush vegetation and wildlife. I found animals of all types.
There were the relatively common Brown and Green Anoles (lizards), large Cane Toads, and Mockingbird chicks found in our yard.
There were the Eastern Mosquitofish, Apple Snails, and baby Muscovy Ducks found in the nearby canal.
Then there were also the less common animals.
For a short time I cared for (with significant help from my mother) a Mangrove Cuckoo with a broken wing, a baby raccoon (which may have actually been an opossum), recently hatched Alligator Snapping Turtles (they went back to the canal pretty quick), a Scarlet King Snake (their bites do not hurt), a Green Water Snake (their bites really hurt), a whole long list of other snakes, a Cuban Tree Frog (it loved to eat cockroaches), and even a Basilisk Lizard (yes… they really can run on water!).
But never did I find a Red Eft.
Fast-forward 30 years.
We now live on our farm in East Tennessee. We have been slowly repairing an unhealthy landscape that has been overgrazed with cattle and damaged with chemicals. We’ve been seeing a return of life in the soils and pastures. The land has started to heal.
And now I see Red Efts many times a year.
But the novelty has still not worn off.
All those exciting emotions I had when flipping over logs and wading in canals as a kid come flooding back.
In addition to my childhood interests, Red Efts get me excited for an entirely different reason. It means that our efforts to regenerate the ecosystem on the farm is working.
You see, amphibians are indicators for environmental health. They can be used like canaries in a coal mine. Historically, canaries were brought into coal mines because they are more susceptible to toxic gases, like methane and carbon monoxide, than humans. The canary would die before these gases rose to levels that would kill the coal miners. If the miners noticed the canary was dead, usually because they realized the bird had stopped singing, the miners then had time to get out of the mine before they were killed.
Amphibians breathe and drink through their thin skin, and they are exquisitely sensitive to environmental toxins. As canaries were used to monitor air quality, amphibians can be used to monitor environmental quality.
Specifically, the quality of water that runs over and through the forests, soils, pastures, and environments where they live.
In this case, that environment is our farm.
And I still smile every time I find one.
(photo of the Red Eft I found this morning in the pasture on my way into the woods)

Saturday, May 23, 2020

Guest Post: Meeme's Garden

This is a picture of my friends: Daniel and Meredith and Meredith's parents. As an only child, she was very close with her parents. I so enjoyed her youthful Mama and our conversations when she'd help take Lilly to ballet. 


A few days into the new year, I ran into Meredith's Mama, Jan, in Walmart. She was her usual self: youthful and bopping from one kid in the toy aisle to the other. 

A few days later, Jan went in for routine back surgery and while in recovery, after eating a meal and chatting with her husband, she coded. They revived her, but her brain had already died. 

Daniel (a local pastor and missionary) and Meredith had been busy working on a farm "venue" site. A few days ago, Meredith shared the following picture and words about her losses this year. 

With her permission, I share them with you here:


I remember the first few days of 2020. Do you? There was an excitement to what the year would hold: a dream realized, a trip to take, and growing children to marvel at. But then 2 weeks into the year it all crashed down: my mother passed away suddenly and tragically: I lost a job I enjoyed, and our son was diagnosed with hearing loss (all in the same week). Then we entered a pandemic and the world stopped. 

When life takes a hard right turn. it can be easy to just want to pack it all up and quit, to walk away, throw in the towel on everything, even your dreams. And yet, hope remains, good remains, if we have eyes and a heart to see it.

This is “Meeme’s Garden” which we just finished in the front of our venue at the farm. My mom, Meeme, loved flowers of all kinds and she was so excited about watching Greenwood Oaks take form. She also loved birds and birdbaths. We planted this garden in her memory and to honor her. As the flowers grow this summer it will look like a rainbow blanket as they fill the space between them. I hope it reminds all who visit that there is a rainbow after the storm, always hope and good and beautiful things in life, even in the midst of hard and uncertain times. 

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

Guest Post: Big Red House

By: Kristin Girton (Ballet and homeschooling friend of Wendi) and local actress/photographer/personal trainer extraordinaire. 

This post from last year popped up on my time=hop today. It read “stealing away precious moments with my family lately. Life is so busy right now but these little moments together are priceless.”

I was in one of the busiest seasons of my life last year. We were in the process of boxing up our Walnut Grove home ... where we had brought home our babies and we had loved our neighbors so fiercely.

We had just wrapped up the ballet Ruth and a theater production of Little Shop of Horrors.

We were in the middle of the process of buying our Big Red House.

We had lost the building that we had really thought would be our next adventure ... and I was mourning that adventure more than anyone around me knew. It is still too painful to talk about most days.

We were winding down the school year, the ballet classes, our homeschool co-op ....

We were in the midst of Bright Star Rehearsals and voice lessons. (That i went to 6 nights a week.)

I was still trying to maintain some kind of personal training schedule, but by this time I had cut back to only one ... my first client -- my friend.

I was also really sick.

I had strep for over a month in a half. It got so bad, and I kept it a secret for so long because I didn’t want it to affect Bright Star. So instead, I pushed and pushed my body until it collapsed, and I fell asleep for a spti second while driving and realized I needed to go to the doctor.

My family and I were tired.

But after Bright Star came Matilda, and then Pollyannna, more lessons, more gymnastics, more birthday parties, more camps ...

Just more busy.

I swore after Pollyanna I would take a break, but then the opportunity to play Elizabeth in Young Frankenstein came. I took it. I was so tired, but how could I pass up the opportunity to work with some of the most talented people I have ever met?

I knew when I walked into the rehearsals for the Bright Star Reunion and Laura pulled me aside and said “You need a break. You are running yourself weary,” that she was right.

But I powered through.

And don’t get me wrong. I was weary, but I was loved. My family and friends were amazing. My new theatre family had embraced me. I loved every moment and there were many amazing, joyous, even brilliant moments! I loved them. I soaked them all in.

My husband was amazing. For months he worked full time, took care of the girls and was coaching soccer.

All while I stayed busy.

And then exactly two weeks after Young Frankenstein wrapped  -- the world stopped.

My family stopped.

I stopped.

And for 9 weeks we have stayed home. We have taken a break. We have spent time focusing on loving each other fiercely. We have focused on school, on reading, on drawing, on playing together, on just being a family. Just the simple moments. Like cooking together, or watching all the Marvel movies in order. We have been scared together. We have prayed together. Because these are the moments that I longed for, when i was “stealing away” time for them.

I guess I am posting this for my future self.

Don’t let the “busy” get in the way of these simple moments.

Be active, be creative, but always remember what is the most is within the walls of this Big Red House.

Tuesday, November 07, 2017

Tribe Life Tuesday; My Lease on Peace


A weekly post from my childhood to grown-up friend Carrie ~ 
sharing her awesome life and her desire to have community while doing it!


This is the third draft I have started and, for some reason, I feel at a loss for words today. My mind longs to find a settled place, like my heart has. For the past week, I have returned to this place of needing to find peace and staying put, right there in my peace space. There are so many things vying for our peace space every day and if your space is negotiable someone or something will always be happy to fill it. The thing I’ve learned, am still learning, and will continue to posture myself to learn, is that peace is sacred. I desire to do nothing outside of it. 

Peace seems to be one of those ethereal qualities - it’s hard to describe but once you’ve felt it and know it exists, it’s hard to ever want to be without it. And locating it within yourself may be hard at first, yet it’s worth the search. Once you have found your peace space it is not something you have to navigate, you can simply let it have its way. There is no magic formula, you can’t make up the feeling, you can’t earn it, you can only accept it and settle in. 

As I watch the news, read the paper, or get alerts on my phone of breaking news, there are more opportunities for me to step into the chaos. But I have to remind myself often: see it, read it, don’t reside there. 

The truth of the matter is this: you have the choice and the power to live in peace or chaos. I thoroughly believe each one of us is equipped with all we need to live well and impact each of our worlds. So when you walk into a chaotic place, whether it be your office, your school, your home, wherever, you can either contribute to the chaos or bring peace to that place. 

I am learning that this is ENTIRELY AN INSIDE JOB. You, knowing who you are, have to resolve inside yourself that settledness will be your nature. This act without compromise is POWERFUL! And the beauty of this whole "peace above all else" notion is that no one has the power to take that away from you, but you. 

You are powerful in this. 

When chaos, anxiety, or overwhelm come I am learning to: 
  1.     Stop & breathe
  2.     Identify where the chaos is coming from 
  3.     And remind myself: I am powerful and I will stay in peace.

Because nothing, unless you choose it, gets to determine your peace.

Thank you for reading. 


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See you next Tuesday. 

Carrie

Saturday, November 04, 2017

Why I Stopped Trying to Conceive: A Guest Post by English Anderson


The following post is written by English. English entered my life as a little girl, and I have been closely tied to her family for nearly as long as I can remember. In fact, I was the one who taught her to drive. And my little English is now a grown-up, dog-loving WOMAN married to a wonderful man (named Timmy) and working hard as a military wife. She's an amazing photographer and a woman who knows her mind. She sent me this post -- and I share it here. It causes my heart pain and joy -- both -- as I know where she is and where she was but not where she is going.

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I say “I” because, to be honest, my husband didn’t have much to do with this. Well, much to do in the sense that he couldn’t be the one to tell me when enough was enough, or when too much was too much. He was a part of all decision making, but I had the greater say because I had the greater pain. This is also not for someone looking for a happy ending, because I haven’t found that yet ... well, at least not in the typical sense. I also have the tendency to start things in the middle, so let’s try this again. To the beginning.

September 2008: Meet
July 2010: Married
August 2010:  Begin TTC (trying to conceive)

That’s the beginning. Young couple, in love, freshly married at 22/23, ready to begin life.  There’s a stage to set here, one that helps make sense of why anyone at 22 would think to start a family -- not just marriage, but a bonafide child-filled house. You see, the military world is slightly different ... not just military, but enlisted military world, a topic I could rant about for hours. At 22, I was one of the few who didn’t already have at least one if not two children. Fast forward a few years into our fertility issues, and I became an anomaly. Now? Unheard of.  I have zero friends my age at our current base who don’t have children. 

I heard once that your brain doesn’t fully develop until 25, so it makes sense that we weren’t really thinking things through when we started trying to conceive. In my head, it would happen perfectly. I wouldn’t have to be pregnant in the overly hot California summer, I’d look super cute in my fall maternity wear, and no babies too close to Christmas because that’s not fair to anyone. The ideal situation. So, month after month I’d confidently sit myself down and expect a positive. And month after month, it was okay when it said no. Then it started being less okay, and then it started hurting, and then it started making me dread the end of every month because there would be another no waiting for me, no doubt about that. Month after month, I slowly began lashing out at everyone.  Month after month, I drive off anyone who announces they’ve become pregnant. Not proud of it, but it’s the truth.

June 2015.  I’m turning 27, we’re celebrating our 5 year anniversary in Europe (yay for military living), and it’s year 5 of trying to conceive. I’ve lost approximately 4 or 5 close friends who managed to get pregnant within the first few months of trying, and I legitimately couldn’t cope. My husband carries tissues with him everywhere we go. I have some friends who are also dealing with fertility issues, but I’m zero help because I hate everyone and everything.  Those end of month No’s have steadily changed my dread to full fledged self-hatred and feelings of incompetence. Yes, I’ve had the tests done.  No, they can’t find anything wrong. Yes, I’ve gotten the referrals to specialists. No, I don’t have any more news. This event, or lack of event, has taken over everything in me and has turned me into a legitimate monster. So, I turn 27 and I offer myself a birthday present.  No more trying to conceive.

Honey, it’s like a weight has been lifted from shoulders. All that negativity, all that pressure, all that expectation was gone. I finally had a freedom I hadn’t felt in years, a lightness that hadn’t existed since our first anniversary. I was free from that little box I had forced myself to live inside, and it felt gooooooood.  That was 2.5 years ago, and I have yet to regret my little birthday gift to myself. Don’t get me wrong, there are still hard days. 

“When are you guys starting a family?!” 
“Aren’t you being selfish by not having kids?” 
“You’ll regret not having kids early, soon it’ll be too late.” 
“Well, have you tried this or this?  It worked for my friend’s cousin’s coworker.”
“We had fertility problems for a couple years, and then it just magically happened.  It will for you, too!”

I still have issues being the positive force when my friends have fertility issues. I’m not quite in a zone where I can comfortably talk about my own experiences or my own heartbreak yet. Maybe I never will be? That’s okay, because there are plenty, like Wendi, who are willing to be that beacon of hope. The questions still hurt, and the thought of failure still hurts. But, overall, I’m happy I’ve chosen this path for myself. There might be kids in our future, yay adoption!, but I’m also very okay if there aren’t. You see, part of that present to myself was accepting the fact that being a mom isn’t the end all be all to my life. I can be so much more: a wife, a flight attendant, a photographer, a traveler, a dog lover, a student, a snarky older sister. My list of identities is pretty endless. Maybe mom will be added at some point; maybe not.

I’ve had the urge to write this for about a year now, and I kept deleting every draft. No one really needs or wants to hear what I have to say on the matter. Yet, for some reason, I keep sitting to write it all out again. I think it’s because somewhere out there is someone who is sitting where I sat a couple years ago, and who needs to hear these words: It’s okay to leave everything where it is. It’s okay to let go for a while, and come back to it later. It’s okay to stop prioritizing the future over your current well being. It’s okay to step back and say enough is enough.  And it’s perfectly okay to change your mind about what you want in life.
This has to be the most disjointed thing I’ve ever written, my apologies. While there are tons of success stories out there, but this isn’t one of them, not in the traditional sense. I’d argue and say that I’ve been pretty successful at understanding my own limitations better out of all of this, but I’d also say that this isn’t necessarily a happy ending. It’s an ending that works best for me.  And that’s okay, too.


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**I may or may not come back to answer questions and comments, but I’ll try and head some of them off.  No, we did not go through AI or IVF or any hormone medications.  That was a personal choice for us based on our personal points of view; there’s nothing wrong with those options!  No, we have not stopped trying.  We aren’t as actively pursuing it, but we also don’t utilize any contraceptives.