S: Mommy I can’t sleep because I am out of batteries…Mommy I can’t sleep because I have flames on my jammies.

A: Do you want me to pour water on them?

S: Yes, and cover them in mud too!

Well I moved out of the coolest house I may ever live in. I cut bait on the vintage life I worked so hard to cultivate. I said goodbye to the Santa Cruz mountains for now. Abandoning the apple trees in full fruit, and the peaceful field of golden nostalgia.

How could I resist a last shot of back lit turkeys? Fanning me farewell with their burgeoning tails. I’m about to trade turkeys for Toyotas in my flight to the suburbs.

I’m not completely without optimism. Nature seems to pop up everywhere. I have high hopes that my sensibilities will still alight on the nature of things no matter where I live.

Somethings had to go, so I hereby document Blue’s old pillows. Blue the dog of the century. I kept these pillows despite Mango’s disapproval because they still smelled like Blue. It’s funny what makes us sentimental.

I think more than the house itself I will miss the ghost that inhabited it. She was a truly grand lady. She made her opinions known, and bolstered my confidence when I needed a nudge. I hope that if I feel compelled to linger, I do it with the same sense of style.

Also more than the house itself I loved the walls. I spent many a meditative morning sipping tea and pondering the wet walls in the drizzle. In the summer the walls served as Times Square for the uncannily large lizard population. At the nursery I found myself looking for plants that would accent the walls. I simply couldn’t pay enough homage to these classic architectural elements. I wanted to take the walls with me – alas.

The house matched in odd ways, that never seemed premeditated.

I worked hard for this “perfect life”. I had to achieve that pinnacle of domestic bliss that has defined women for centuries. I had to have this attachment in order to change. It was evident the minute I cleaned up that last rat’s nest and all was perfect – that I had to leave. In the brief process of shedding this dream I have gained insight. Every time I move my next domicile is lived in more fully, and the rituals of daily life and family are celebrated more. I loved my time here, and I was sorry to cut it short.

Goodnight vintage house.

A few more indulgent garden shots before I go. It was my dream house, and my first vegetable garden.

I just loved the way the switch grass intertwined with the pumpkins. I had to untangle them today. I can’t quite think of the metaphor, but it wasn’t easy.

I think this is how I will always remember this house. Lots of blue sky.

Perhaps I will sow these somewhere else.

Can’t beat the morning light here.

For such an arid location, this garden was always alive with toads. This one came out to say, “goodbye”. Or so I am speculating.

The first summer we moved here was the summer of the deer. Dozens of them would hang out under the apple trees at night – the old guys would hack and cough and trip over all the young does. Last summer was the summer of the mountain lion, complete with a confirmed kill practically in our back yard (no deer to speak of that summer). This summer is the summer of the turkeys. They have made their home in the field and I must say they are delightful to have around. We spot them at least once a day Mommy, Daddy and brood foraging for insects and seeds as if it is all they could think to do (humm?).

We see them in the woods too, trying to look inconspicuous but without much luck. The other day Seth and I came across some of their tracks in some soft dust. Their feet are much larger than you would expect. And their legs are so strong. I had this sort of Plymouth Rock image of turkeys, but these are lean bodied long haunched birds. I think they are part Emu.

I’ve gotten used to having them around. I find it comforting when they cruise by in the early morning and keep me company while I water. They seem to know it’s me and don’t get too ruffled about my presence. Often times one of the young will dart off to far after an insect and one of the parents will have to herd it back. The kids are almost the same size as thier parents, but apparently they still do not have the know how of survival down pat.

They like to roost in the lone apple tree in the middle of the field. I went over to investigate and found it littered with these lovely feathers.

Dear Seth,

On the way to Butano we stopped at Emily’s. When the girl behind the counter asked you what you wanted you said, “The chocolate cupcake, the one with the starfish on it.”

Fun Fact:

A: Do you want orange paint.

S: No.

A: Why not?

S: Because they do not use orange paint on the island of Sodor.

-

Sunday morning commentary after being asked to help move compost.

“Mommy I don’t want a job, I want to fly!”

-

There has been lots of talk about dragons this month.  A few weeks ago you watched Shrek.  Or at least you watched it up until the point where the dragon is chasing Shrek out of the castle.  For the first week after that you would wake up and ask me a battery of questions about the dragon scene.  This was intense for a week, but it still has not stopped.

Why did the dragon shoot fire at Shrek?

Who put Princess Fiona in the castle?

Why did Shrek take Princess Fiona out of the castle?

Who put the dragon in the castle?

Why does the dragon like the donkey?

Why didn’t the dragon shoot fire at Princess Fiona?

And so forth, relentlessly.  Love + Mommy