Boreal Witch

I've always envisioned my life as a series of chapters. I'm not sure if everyone imagines their life in this way, but I do. I enjoy the ease at which I can recall life events, simply by placing it into a chapter. So far, my life divides into the following chapters:

Chapter One: Babyhood (Fairbanks/North Pole)
Chapter Two: Growing up in Barrow, Alaska
Chapter Three: Adjusting to Anchorage, High School
Chapter Four: College, Washington
Chapter Five: Early Marriage, A Masters, and Back to Fairbanks, Alaska

And now; my dear, faithful readers; I am about to add a new chapter to my life. 

Robinson and I have been discussing a change lately. We're stagnant here in Fairbanks and it has been impossible for us to get ahead (not just financially, but emotionally and physically as well). As of just two weeks ago, Robinson has been applying for jobs in Wisconsin and we've both decided that we'll be leaving regardless of his job status.

Our target exit is May since I was already planning to take the kids to Wisconsin, but realistically it will depend on how soon we sell the house, how soon Robinson acquires employment, and how soon we can pack our belongings.

As I've been processing it, I've concluded that this is the perfect time to go. Arthur will be starting kindergarten and has no ties to a school that he loves. Balin is so young that he doesn't understand and therefore won't care where he is as long as he's with the people he loves. While I've made so many friends here and volunteer for many causes, I can easily do that anywhere. Plus, I have so many connections in Wisconsin that the transition should be easier than moving to a brand new place.

We will be living at my grandmother's 1940's farmhouse. When Grandma died a couple of years ago, my dad and my aunt inherited the farmhouse and land. Neither one of them could live there permanently though: my aunt was still working full-time and although my dad was retired my mom was not.

They've had some issues finding a reliable person to live there. My dad's cousin burned some of the clutter in the house without his consent. Now a neighbor attending the local university is house-sitting, but my aunt and father are paying him to live there. Hopefully this new arrangement will be a win-win for everyone. We get a house, rent-free (minus general upkeep costs and utilities), and my father and aunt have us to take care of the house. Since the cost of living is so much lower down there, we'll be able to save up a lot more money than we ever could here. Not having a house payment will certainly help! 

I've always fantasized about living on my grandparent's farm and it's soon to become a reality. When I discussed the idea with my aunt, she laughed and said that she wondered if Grandma didn't have a hand in it somehow. I often wonder that, too.

I can picture the boys riding tractors. Playing in the dirt. Helping me can fruits and vegetables. Collecting eggs from our chickens. Exploring the farm. I am highly romanticizing the situation, I realize that, but it's hard not to. Fairbanks has been a fun adventure, but it's time for something new. I'm looking forward to it.

Blessed be. 

Eons ago I worked at the Boys and Girls Club of the Tanana Valley. It was a lot like working at the Children's Museum of Tacoma or The Imaginarium, but the Club was real. Fo' sure.

Imagine my surprise and pleasure when an old co-worker messaged me on Facebook and asked if I wanted to serve on the board as part of their fundraising committee.

I'll lay it out for you right now: I hate soliciting. I hate asking people for money (unless its owed). And I hate bugging people to donate auction items. Some people are very good at acquiring all kind of goodies; me, my only donations to the auction were some chocolate bars in a pig cookie jar, another dessert, and a new baby basket. It wasn't that I didn't try, I really, really did. I had high hopes of purchasing a table with some friends, but that didn't work out. Instead, it was just two of us: my friend Lisa, who also worked for the Boys and Girls Club a few years before I did, was my date.

In an effort to aid the cause and in the spirit of volunteerism, I agreed to help with the finances later that evening. I figured if I didn't get the number of donations I wanted to, at least I could donate my time.

Silent Auctions are funny things. I'll be the first to admit that I had never heard of them before I moved up here, but they are extremely popular. Almost every event in town has one, even if it is just a tiny table in the corner. I almost never bid on anything. I did see some really cute antiques. I regrettably did not even try to bid on because I am not a millionaire and could not pay $160 for three glass milk jugs from the Golden Creamery. I bid on only one thing: three pounds of bacon from Homegrown Market at $47. Looking back at it now, I would have been crazy to pay $15/lb for bacon, even if their bacon is amazing. Lisa, in an effort to drive up the price, bid on many items.

She told me a story from her days working for Scott Kawasaki, a local political figure. They had gone to a fundraiser with a small silent auction and as they were perusing, he told her to bid to drive up the price of the items. At the end of the night, she was left with a number of items and was out $75.

This time she was out $467.

I knew she couldn't afford it. She's currently trying to get her Master's degree and is working two jobs to afford her tuition, rent, and the general necessities of life. I doubled checked the bid sheets and asked her to sort them into what she actually wanted and what she didn't. I also bought one of her items off of her: a lovely white purse (my birthday present!). By the time it was said and done, we had whittled the charges down to $125, manageable for a college student. If I get called on it, I will tell them the truth. I'm not in any way ashamed of what I did. I would have considered it to be in bad taste (and bad Karma) to let her walk away with that financial stress, especially since I invited her to the event.

After I got Lisa squared away, I took a deep breath and entered my own bid number, ready to see a number larger than I would have liked (damn you, bacon!). Luckily, Providence (Karma, the Universe) smiled upon me: $85. Oh, thank goodness! Someone outbid me on the bacon!

The best part of the night, though, was seeing a woman retreat to her table with both of my desserts. I approached her and said, "I see you won both of my desserts."

She shook her head and pointed to a woman to her left. "No, she did." She had placed a homemade twix bar on her plate.

I looked over at the other woman and said, "I hope you like them!" By this time, the cookie jar and the twix bars had made a round around the table and there were audible oohs and ahhs. (I flushed with pleasure inside.)

Her boyfriend/husband/significant other asked, "Where did you get this cookie jar?"

I told him that I had won it in a family auction and that my father had gotten it from garage sale or Fred Meyer, I didn't know which.

He said that it was perfect because the two of them were from Iowa! Seriously, how could a pig driving a corn car not be the perfect gift for the couple from Iowa? I was so happy that that little pig found its way to a couple who would really enjoy him and that he no longer had to sit in my garage, collecting dust.

"I'm so glad you like him!" I exclaimed, taking a mental note to tell Dad about this. He would laugh and laugh in his giddy way when he was excited about something.

Blessed be.

My birthday was this weekend.

I was inspired to write 33 goals that I wanted to complete, but then something came up.

I won't go through the details just yet. It's one of those things that must percolate a while before anything is to be done about it. But I'm impatient. I want an answer now.

Last year my father took me to a local Chinese restaurant and my fortune read, "Welcome change." It was so utterly and amazingly appropriate. A year later, it's still apt. Maybe even more now.

I'll leave you with that. Hopefully in another week or two I will have more news to share.

Blessed be.

Busy.

The boys are all in bed, alseep. Tonight I am alone. It's peaceful except for the low hum of the dehydrator. The vegetable crackers it contains will be delicious.

I've got thoughts swimming through my head - mostly things I'll be doing tomorrow, but I'm also reflecting on this month. On the last year. On life.

You see, on Saturday I will be 33. I don't consider myself old, I have not reached that privilege, not yet, but I'm no longer that "young." I am so distant from today's teens and early 20-somethings that I probably could not have a fulfilling conversation with them. Not in the slightest.

In Wicca, life is a cycle. We are born, we live, we die. I don't claim to know what happens to us after that. What matters is what we do in our life and what we pass on to others. Everything that happens to you, every experience or event that occurs teaches you something about yourself. I've come to realize that while I am shaped by those experiences, I also have the power to shape myself. I can dictate the person I become. I choose to do good things or bad things. I make conscious decisions about how I treat people. I decide what I want.

Birthdays are good times to reflect. They force us to examine the things we've done and the thngs we haven't. Our lives suddenly become a little more meaningful on a birthday because our mortality is staring us in the face. Someday, just as we were born on a special day, we will also die. It is inevitable.

I've done a lot in my 3+ decades. I've got a Master's degree. I'm a mother. I've traveled overseas. I volunteer for local organizations. I quilt. I constantly try new things.

But I've also made mistakes. Some serious, some minor. But I've learned from all of them. Life is a process.

Live it. Just live your life. You will always make mistakes.

Just don't have any regrets.

Blessed be.

I am a firm believer in new beginnings. I love new places, new sites, new adventures, new projects.

Can you see what's new in my living room?

It's very subtle...

It has nothing to do with the naked baby on the couch...

Give up?

When we shampooed the carpet (last shampooed in 2010 and not very thoroughly), I also painted the walls! They are a beautiful green now - the same color as the bedroom.

I am in love.

This summer I hope to do some more interior as well as exterior TLC, but I can't say much more (or I will rouse the suspicions of my darling husband) except to say: sunny yellow.

Blessed be.

Last year I managed to piece together one quilt. I'm still embarrassed to admit that. But I blame pregnancy, water retention, and a baby. So there.

Dear readers, you'll be impressed to know that I have tripled my productivity this year! Three whole quilts! I assure you, however, that I have thought about and planned many, many more. Including one for a dear friend whom I have known since high school. Her quilt is now two years late. Fortunately for me, the top is now finished, but I need to piece together the batting and purchase the backing.

But let's not dwell on that now. Let's see the finished products!

Quilt #1: Pinwheels and Triangles 
I can't recall where this pattern came from now. I found it while browsing an old quilt magazine at my grandmother's house before her funeral. When I returned, I vividly remember storing the pattern directions in a large Ziplock bag along with all of the fabric scraps for the quilt. I must have thrown the pattern out after completing the quilt - something I don't normally do. It took me forever to piece it. I managed to finish all of the blocks the summer of 2011 and sew it together in the fall and quilt it at the very beginning of this year. Like most of my larger quilts, I got tired of it hanging around, so I made the quilt smaller than the original design. There were so many blue and green triangles left over that I made a zig-zag boarder. The quilter said that "made the quilt." I agree completely. It's my favorite part of the quilt. I made this for a wedding gift for my friend Shannon, who was my VISTA volunteer for a year. She and her husband both loved it!    

Quilt #2: Rectangle 9-Patch
My friend Mona went to Hawaii for the summer of 2011 and returned with a stack of rectangles for me, all Hawaiian-themed. I was pretty excited because I knew that I would be making Mona a quilt from those scraps of fabric. I decided on a simple 9-patch, but I would keep the rectangular shape instead of cutting the pile down to squares. The quilt was a breeze to put together. I even found sea shell fabric for the backing. The quilter said that she never would have dared to use the mustard-colored fabric for the sashing and the boarder, but that was beautiful. We decided on a floral design for the quilting and a maroon thread. Mona loved it! She didn't want to use it because she said it was too beautiful, but was afraid to display it because she didn't want it to get dirty. Mona moved this fall, and I was so happy that I was able to give her such a lovely gift before she had to go. I even had enough rectangles left over for another quilt for a dear college friend who will be getting married soon...the question is: can I get it to her before the wedding? 

Quilt #3: Bear Claw Wallhanging
My mom asked me to make her a wallhanging to display her employment pins. Her favorite color is blue and I was able to piece it together quickly. It was a bit trickier to quilt it, since I don't get much regular practice, but it turned out very pretty (even though there are more than a few mistakes!). It was one of the easiest quilts I've made in a long, long while! Mom loved it.

 Next year, I plan to do something monumental: I want to make a quilt for myself. I have already decided on the pattern and the colors. It's going to be beautiful and a lovely addition to the bedroom. Not to mention a godsend in the summer when it gets unbearably hot, yet I can't not have a blanket covering me. I also hope to finish two wedding quilts, a wedding wallhanging, and a quilt for a friend who moved but moved back.

Well, I'd better get started!

Blessed be.

I love Yule. It is perhaps one of my favorite holidays.

My fondness began about ten years ago when Robinson and I were newlyweds. We wanted to blend Christmas and Yule traditions (a la Chrismukka), so we burned a Yule log (before we sawed the bottom of the Christmas tree it was christened the "Holiday 2x4"), created ornaments celebrating the most important events of the year, and made "Yule wishes" for the next year. We also celebrated by eating two large, festive meals and opening presents. 

Due to this massive celebration, Yule and Christmas became important means of closing out the year. It's fun to reflect on all of the interesting things that happened to us over the course of a year. We aren't so good at celebrating other holidays (except for Halloween), but I love our traditions.

When Robinson and I had Arthur, we decided not to indulge in the Santa myth. We felt so strongly about it, that I even told my mother (who at one time had a collection of Christmas-themed sweatshirts that would have made Santa himself envious) to not send presents that were addressed "To: Arthur, From: Santa".

This year is the first year that Arthur really realized that there was a guy named Santa and that this guy brought GIFTS to good kids! The funny thing is, though, he never seemed particularly interested in learning more about Santa, never asked us about him, even though fist fights were breaking out in preschool over whether or not there was, in fact, a Santa.

Even when asked if Santa brought him gifts, he answered "No," directly and forcefully and then went on and on about getting lots of gifts from family. It took a few people aback. Even after that, he didn't ask about Santa. Had he asked us, we would have answered truthfully. We don't want to purposefully lie to our children and we've already had to deal with some difficult issues (such as Oldma's death).

Arthur's favorite present by far was his new shovel from Great-Grandma Trask. I hope this boy is as passionate about shoveling snow when he's 15 as he is now. The Legos from his Auntie Blythe were a close second. Balin loved the Clifford books from his Auntie Becky and his Great-Aunt Gloria. When he unwrapped them, he sat in my lap and demanded to read them!

It was a lovely holiday. We were thankful for all of the lovely gifts that our families and friends had gotten us.

Blessed be.