The shed: Part 1 (a tiny home/land development report)

It's been a very busy week since my last update.

The building permit for the shed was approved on Friday.

On Sunday evening/Monday morning, we staked (and then adjusted) the location for the shed.

The location of the 8x10 shed

There were a couple of oak and spruce trees in the area that will be directly covered by the shed, so a little tree transplanting became necessary:

Save me from the shed!

Relocated to a peaceful new home on the forest floor

On Tuesday morning, a fellow came with the pole-digger machine (I hope you are impressed by my grasp of technical construction language). He installed a post at each corner.

Nowhere near as noisy as I thought it might be

The posts look like this. The platform at the top is adjustable to enable the builders to level the floor.

X marks the spot. Put building supplies here.

And they were put!

Construction begins today. We are hoping that the forecast for three days of clear weather will hold.

Meanwhile, all of the limbs/trees that were marked for removal by the NSPower surveyor have been limbed or felled. I've called NSPower, they've updated their work order and at some point (I have no idea when), they will send a crew out to install the power poles.

How does it feel?

It has felt like a pretty overwhelming week for me. I've been having trouble sleeping (partly due to excitement/anxiety and partly due to my peri-menopausal inability to regulate my body temperature), so I'm tired. And with the deadline (for self-employed people) fast approaching, I've been preparing my taxes. Fortunately, for the first time a can remember, I actually have money ready and waiting to pay my taxes (Thanks, YNAB!) but that doesn't make the bill feel much more welcome. I'd rather be able to spend that money on my own home. But: roads-schools-hospitals-social safety net, as I remind myself every year. I like to think that's where my tax dollars are going – and not to military spending, corporate welfare and/or some corrupt fat cat's summer home. But I'm sure it's a little of column A and a little of column B and there isn't anything I can do about that. I'm lucky to have work and I'd rather feel grateful that I'm able to make a contribution to our collective well being, than resentful that I have to hand over all of that money.

On the plus side, I'm enjoying a brief lull in my work. I've only worked 3.5 hours so far this week and that has been a welcome break. I overdid it with work this winter. It is very tempting to do that, since I have all of these big plans that require a lot of money to execute. To be honest with myself, I'm going to overdo it with work this summer, too. And doubtless next winter. And next summer.

So it's been nice that this week has been more about my land – making an enclosure for my compost heap (zipties! pallets!), planting things in my garden (the pea plants are up!), transplanting trees, fixing Salinger's back door entry (zipties! pallets!).

Salinger has also had a mixed week. There have been a few D-O-G-S here, accompanying various folks helping with projects. This has naturally been upsetting and has resulted in Salinger making himself scarce for long periods of time. But he's been coming back at the end of the day, so that's good.

First South Travelogue

Last evening, I took a walk.

It's been a grueling month. Twice a year, I do a BIG typesetting project. It's my bread and butter and pays for most of the year's expenses, but it's a grind with 45- to 60-hour weeks and one day off in the past 30.

I'm tired.

Yesterday was the very last day, and as still more changes came in in the morning, something in me seemed to snap. I burned out. My brain stopped working. I couldn't focus. I sent a bunch of things back with errors. I was done.

But no rest for the weary! With plenty more work from other clients queued up and waiting for me to be available, I slogged most of the rest of the day out at my desk – fairly ineffectively, but still.

And then, as evening hit, I felt the call of something bigger. The VERSE. Bigger than daily cares, bigger than fiscal responsibility, bigger than me, all humans and the entire construct of human endeavour.

I live surrounded by the most gorgeous landscapes I have ever seen. And as an added bonus, yesterday evening was 9 degrees (Celsius) and sunny.

If you are like me, plowing away at your responsibilities, burdened by worries and cares, I invite you to come along with me on this walk.

The view of the Town of Lunenburg from the top of the
hill by the golf course. The house I've been renting in this winter
is just off the left edge of the frame.

As I headed up the hill, I heard rustlings behind me and realized that my cat, Salinger, had decided to come along.

Here is Salinger, stalking me. This time of year our landscapes
are excellently colour-coordinated for ginger camouflage.

My handsome fellow stayed with me quite a distance – well past the Topmast Motel at the crest of the hill. Fortunately, he is timid of cars and stayed off the road.

Salinger <3

At this point, Salinger decided he had reached the limits of his territory. I, on the other hand, felt like really stretching my legs with a good, long, cobweb-clearer of a walk.

Heading down the hill and out of town.

In a couple of months, this will all be vivid green, but right now, it is a restful golden brown, which I think co-ordinates quite nicely with the blue of the ocean.

On the flat between Hill 1 and Hill 2, looking out to sea.

Coming down the second hill toward Corkum's Island:

The curve at the bottom of this hill always catches me by
surprise when I'm driving. It's a doozy!

About a half an hour out from my starting point, I decided to turn back. Having climbed two big hills on the way out, I knew I would have to climb back up two big hills to get home (unless I called my housemate to come rescue me in her car – LOL!)

I didn't want to overtax myself after a very sedentary month.

I took this picture at the point where I turned
around to come home. Absolute serenity.

Back up the first of those big hills:

Trust me, it's steeper than it looks!

And back into town at the base of the second big hill:

Town limits. Where First South ends and the
Town of Lunenburg begins.

When I got back to the spot where Salinger and I parted ways, I gave a little holler — and look who was hanging around waiting for me to get back!

Salinger, playing "keep away" by the side of the road.

My holler startled three deer who tore off into the trees behind the golf course. I wasn't quick enough to get a photo. 

As Salinger and I came back over the crest of the hill, there was twilit Lunenburg with the first of the lights beginning to sparkle on the boats in the harbour.

Home again, hone again, riggety-jig.

This is a blessed place. 

Its peace eases my heart. It fills my eyes with beauty, my heart with love and my soul with gratitude.

Portrait of the (very tired yet refreshed) blogger
with her cat, Salinger, upon being happily reunited.

5th Annual Pennybrook Festival Report

The 5th Annual.

It sounds so official, doesn't it?

But this year's festival was the least official yet, I think.

With a busy summer (and a little bit of volunteer burnout) happening, we decided to be very casual in our organization of the Pennybrook Festival this year. With the stage already built, the preparations were not as physically demanding, which was good.

There was still a lot to do – site and food preparation mostly – getting the field bush-hogged, raking, setting up the tents, making food for the musicians and for the potluck. Sadly one of our three core volunteer organizers had to be away for work during the festival itself, so there was lots of multi-tasking going on. Fortunately, a few good friends volunteered to give us a hand on Friday night and Saturday.

Despite the generally lackadaisical approach to the festival, we had a stellar line-up: Sahara Jane and Daunt Lee came back for a second year. Steve Keith participated in a set of smoking hot bluegrass with Kevin Roach and Jude Pelley and then came back up on stage again for a set of smoking hot jazz. John Muller cracked us up with this awesome anti-Harper song:

Even I played a set – a rare occurence for me these days.

Half of the audience consisted of super-talented musicians themselves and once the stage wound down, there were two separate after-hours jams – the folkies sang around the campfire while the bluegrassers tore it up in the green room (which was not located in my house this year). As usual, I collapsed way before the festivities ended, but once again I had the joy of listening to the fun as I drifted off to sleep in my Tiny Home, comfortably situated about 40 feet away from the bonfire with all of its windows open to the warm evening air.

Sunday morning was all chat and bacon and caffeine. After we got the cobwebs shaken out, we settled in for more tunes – well, I say "we" but I'm afraid I was mostly listening from my house while I plowed away on some desk work to meet an unfortunately-timed deadline that I had committed to months ago. I had begged the client to try to steer work away from this past weekend, but to no avail.

Oh well. Sometimes it goes that way. I was feeling a bit emotionally shaky on Sunday anyway, for one reason and another, so it was kind of soothing to sit and zen out with my work, with an amazing soundtrack unfolding in my front yard.

We're not sure if we have another festival in us, but if this was the last Pennybrook Festival, we ended on a high note. And it certainly has been an amazing, fully-alive five years.

I always have a favourite moment in each festival. This year it was listening to Sahara Jane recite an English translation of a Rumi poem right before she sang it the poem as a song in Dari. The tears streamed down my face as I listened to her speak Rumi's words: so thoughtful, thought-provoking, complex and unexpected.

I can't find the exact translation that Sahara recited online, but here is a link with several translations of the same Ghazal: http://sunlightgroup.blogspot.ca/2010/06/sunlight-i-was-dead-i-became-alive.html

It was a truly beautiful weekend – so many big warm hearts and hugs. Songs of truth, heartbreak, hope, giddy joy.

I came away filled to the brim and utterly exhausted. My heart is full of gratitude and love – for my fellow organizers, our volunteers, musicians and audience.

We made something beautiful happen.

Body Wisdom (Worktoomuch? Well, you'd better cut down a little then)

Body Wisdom

I have some challenges in the area of body wisdom. It's never really been a strong suit.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to climb higher, run faster, eat more sugar and stay awake later than was good for me.

Once I became an adult, the main things I tended to overdo were food, booze and work.

Getting older took care of overdoing the booze (well, mostly anyway), the food is a work in progress (more on that later) and the last thing to come to the table is work.

Worktoomuch? Well, you better cut down a little then.

It's easy for me to overdo working. For one thing, they pay me to work and just like anyone else, I need money to survive. For another thing, work sits in positive semantic space in our culture. When I work hard, I'm rewarded with approval as well as money. I once told a boss, "I come for the paycheque, but I stay for the praise". And finally, as a freelancer, there is a temptation to "Never Say No". If you say no, you might not be asked the next time.

I do a lot of digital typesetting of financial reports. And that means I have a "busy season". A lot of companies have their year-end on December 31 and therefore, a regulatory deadline to file their annual report by March 31. Which means that February and March can be very, very busy months for me.

Sometimes I work 10-, 12-, 14-, 17-hour days for 40 or 50 days in a row. I don't work much the rest of the year and so, it seems like a fair trade.

This year, though, my body is telling me working that much is not good idea.

Overloaded!

A few weeks ago, I had a rough couple of weeks personally. Someone very close to me had a life-threatening illness (much better now, thank you) and the relationship I had been in for the past two-and-a-half years broke up.

That, in combination with 10- and 14-hour work days, using the trackpad on my laptop with my (dominant) left hand, was enough to make all of the muscles in my left shoulder seize up.

I didn't even notice at first. (See above where I say body wisdom is not one of my strong suits). It wasn't until I had a shower and the water felt funny on my left shoulder that I realized that all of the skin on that shoulder was numb.

It's the strangest feeling and one that I've never had before.

Treatment

I hoped it would just go away on its own. I gave it a couple of days, went for an already-scheduled massage, but instead of getting better, it got worse, with the numbness radiating down my left arm into my hand. I did a little Google diagnosis (adding a new word to my vocabulary: Parasthesia) and briefly flirted with the idea that this was a sign of MS or a severe anxiety disorder, before deciding that the simplest answer was probably the most likely: stress > tight muscles > pinched nerve > numbness.

I booked an appointment with my osteopath.

The osteopathy treatment helped, though the prediction that the numbness would go away in "a few days" has not come true. I'm due to go back for another osteo appointment tomorrow. In the meantime, the numbness has been joined by a "nerve itch" in my left earlobe and on the left side of my neck. It's a horrible sensation, an itch that is INSIDE the tissues, so that scratching does not offer any relief.

Slowing down

Last week, I turned down 4 new jobs. A couple of years ago, I would have taken at least some of them and added a few hours on to my already-long days. The trouble is that I've already committed to typesetting about 500 pages in the next three weeks. Along with doing work as needed for my non-financial clients.

How will I get through this?

• I bought a mouse so I can use my right hand for more tasks and rest my left
• Work at my awesome ergonomic desk (Because it was so cold upstairs, I had been working downstairs by the woodstove,with my arm at an unhealthy angle)
• Take frequent breaks
• Put heat on my shoulder several times a day
• Continue going for massage and osteopathy as often as possible/necessary
• Try to get more sleep (not always easy with that nerve itch which woke me up at 2:30 this morning *shudder*)
• Try to stay positive – know that this will heal given time and the end of the "Annual Report Season"
• Start making plans now to avoid this sort of injury next year (with my expenses decreasing thanks to my new tiny home, I should be able to work less)

The days are long, but the weeks are short

Does this happen for you, too – that you notice that your experience of time is completely relative?

I find that my days usually feel long and by that, I mean they feel full of moments, sensations, memories (new ones being created, old ones being remembered), thoughts, feelings and generally being fully alive.

But, at the this time of year, the days feel loooooong. I get stacked up with desk work and work 8-, 10-, 12- and even 14-hour days. Sometimes my days are full of so much work for so many different clients that by the end of the day that I can hardly remember what I did at the beginning of the day.

And yet, the weeks are short. It's already the third week of February. Almost my birthday. And the back of winter – this terrible, stormy, miserable winter – is broken. I can feel it, in the increase in rain storms over snow storms and the increased frequency of warmer days over colder days.

And it's a good thing too. My stock of wood is running short and so is my temper.

The ever-shrinking and very snowy woodpile.