My garage kitchen is evolving, much has happened.

Where do I start?

Can I just say that things never work out the way I think they will, but then, weirdly they kind of do.

So, here’s how I made a kitchen, without the why. (I may get to that)

First of all, there are the big pie-in-the-sky things like plumbing and electrical. Just finding one and getting on their busy schedules, then coordinating our schedules so we can all be here, was a whole thing. Oh and trench digging.

It’s kind of a lot. I made a friend at the restore Habitat place. I’ve become a wiz at negotiating some of these over-stock discount everything stores, but I’ve endured my share of disgruntled employees along the way.

Then there are the little things like paint and lamps and light fixtures. There are medium things like flooring and shelves. Not to mention, meeting people, tons of bad news, figuring out the configurations and getting all of us on the same page.

I’m making it up as I go, so it’s all backwards. I apologize if this is mind boggling, but sometimes, when you want to make progress, you have to work with what you have already. And reverse the direction things typically go in. In other words, I didn’t start with a plan, but I may end with one.

Originally, we got approved to build a mother-in-law type structure on the side property. This was good news last winter after going back and forth with plans and ideas with the town and each other, for months.

When the town then refused water to the additional, not attached building, we were sidelined.

One day I was tired of hearing no, so I started clearing the garage area and rearranging some things. G put in a butcher block counter for a neighbor who gave him the extra peices he cut to fit it. I retrieved them from the yard and found ways to use them. I was trying to make something useful for now, while we figured out what to do next.

Each step with my garage project has felt significant. The space is transforming. G and his mom were not sure what to think initially, but slowly got excited (in their own ways), so much so that we started talking about running water from the house.

As of today, we have an electrician coming to install a few more sockets and lights. We have located the main and the drain, but no plumber has agreed to help.

I found a sink at the restoration store. I accidentally purchased a Hosier cabinet that fits the sink and the area perfectly. A Hoiser is a somewhat famous antique. I saw some online for thousands, (when I googled about the metal drawer which in mine is mostly rust), my piece is in rough shape, but perfect for my purpose. We bought enough flooring on sale at the discount place to do the whole area. I’m on a roll.

It’s all cute, a work in progress. I have to wait for this before we do that. A lot of that kind of thing.

All, between yoga, work, baby birds, record cold, rain, gardening, and just navigating life here so far from home. It’s been freezing and now it’s hot, I’ve been chewed up by tiny flying bugs. It’s muggy and gray. I’m itchy and uncomfortable, homesick, missing my kids and my friends, G has been working an hour away…but…well, I’m kind of doing ok.

Projects are magical, this one has been super fun for me. What can I say, I’m loving the challenge!

Focusing on my little project has been a huge exercise in expansion, and in enthusiasm, also in focus. I assure you, things haven’t changed, but then, they kind of have…

Believe it or not, this has required more of me than I knew I could give. I have had to be more confident, more courageous, more creative. Except for putting up the shiplap, I’ve single handedly done most of it all myself. I found plumbers, electricians. Listened to their projections, absorbed their bad news and financially impossible quotes. revamped, re schemed, and pushed. Water is still pretty unlikely at this point, but we might get a pump.

Today it’s, of course, raining.

I recently heard this:

We humans can find peace by looking at the bigger picture, seeing the vastness of the universe, observing from the perspective of consciousness

Or

by focusing in on our smallness. The tiny microcosm of what is right now in front of us. Little moments, influencing our own vibration. Both can take us out of fear and of worry.

The news online and on tv these days is scary. Making things happen is still a fine distraction for me.

I had a big mess of disorganization waiting out there.

Much has come together but there are still many more puzzles to solve.

We were watching a busy robin couple.

They built their nest in a small tree/bush that is getting cut down this year. G told his mom that she had to wait for the robins to be done with their nest before having it chopped. She has been wanting to do it for years. The robins have been nesting in this same tree for as long as anyone can remember.

Their nest this year is at eye level. The robins haven’t cared that we are sitting close by in the breezeway.

They haven’t cared that we peek in and take some phone pics of their eggs, even their just born babies. We are nosy, but leave them alone.

The other morning I startled awake to a frenzy of alarmed bird noises. A crow was attacking. I ran outside and hopefully interrupted the crow. The two robin parents chased it far away.

I peeked into the nest. Two of the three babies were motionless, but still there.

All morning I watched for the robin parents to return. They came close, but wouldn’t return to the tree or nest. Hours went by.

How long can baby birds go without eating? Google said thirty minutes. I knew that was wrong because the parents would be gone a couple hours when the babies were just born. I worried about this because it was so cold and the babies had no feathers. They hatched on three different days, one, two and three.

The attack happened before five am. It was close to one o’clock and still the parents were not going back to the tree.

I decided to look for worms. It didn’t matter how deep I dug, I couldnt find a single worm. The robins did this effortlessly. All day long. How was I so bad at it?!

I consulted AI. Yes baby birds eat full size worms, bait worms would work. So I went to the local gas station/bait supply (Henny Penny) store and explained to the girl what I was using them for. She recommended the red container variety. She actually gave them to me for free.

That’s how I ended up feeding baby birds. On that day I was actually busy. Too busy to be a robin parent.

With what? it would be fair to wonder since I’m still on the east coast. Lots of stuff actually. (I’ll catch up soon). I had to be at work in minutes when the first baby I fed, (he ate four little worms!) JUMPED out of the nest! I got down off my stool and put him back in, he jumped again! Twice more and then hop/ran into a big bush. Meanwhile the parent robins decided to show back up and became frantic, so I left them to figure things out. One in the nest, one on the ground, one half fed, the other full, but lost. I had to get away from the nest because it seemed to be freaking the parents out completely.

At work I got two texts from G’s mom.

“The nest is empty!“

Then later:

“I found the frightened baby when I was mowing. I caught him and put him in a grocery bag. The robins are frantic. What should I do?!”

Maybe let him out? G’s mom is not one to get involved trying to help nature. She told me she was just trying to calm him down. Talk about trauma survivor. First the crow, then abandonment, then chased by a lawn mower and now captured . I guess he ran stumbling out ahead and she felt sorry for panicking him.

I was home less than an hour later. The baby, still in the bag, chirped a little so I offered a worm. He ate about three. There was no sign of the parents. Dusk was settling in. I googled. I asked AI. What to do for the night?

I learned that baby robins don’t eat after dark. It was suggested that I cover the bag with something light like cheese cloth and leave it in the garage because an abandoned baby bird would be very vulnerable to predators at night.

Apparently robins don’t fly out of their nests, they jump out at 13-16 days and spend another 10-15 days hopping around helplessly while they are fed by their parents.

I read up on baby robins. I slept badly, and got up as soon as I heard birds, this was predawn, around 4:30. I had the idea to put my little captive into our fenced vegetable garden. I fed him and waited for more light. Placed him where there were plenty of good hiding places. He could fit through the wire if a parent came back, otherwise he’d be safe.

Two weeks is a long time. It’s a wonder we have robins at all, the odds aren’t with them. Our baby was only ten days old, (or nine or eight) a full three to six days too soon. I had the phone number of a wildlife rescue place that was closed. I was hoping to take him there in the morning, but they told me no.

I fed him before yoga and after. He stayed put and ate the whole container of bait as the morning progressed.

I had go to buy more.

At one point I saw the mother sitting on one of the garden fence posts. So I turned and walked the other direction.

When she was gone, I checked on him and he was gone too.

G spotted him a few hours later in a blueberry bush, parents hovering.

The next day out neighbors were talking about a baby robin on their side of the road that appeared randomly (they had no trees and no robins until they saw this baby, and then it’s parents). Ours was still in the bush.

My new bird expert friend said it happens that babies can become far apart and parents will still go to all of them. We compared pictures, these two looked to be the same. Could it be that both are surviving and doing just fine?!

I see them every day now. First one, then two robins on the ground, then if I watch closely, a little hopping fluff that quickly disappears.

I wonder about how I got caught in this baby robin drama. Up until now, I never held a baby bird or fed one. I didn’t know they could digest whole worms. And I had no idea about fledging. I would have guessed it might last a couple of days. Not weeks! We once had little birds nest in our yard, it went quite differently. One day they all just flew away. No learning to fly, they just somehow could.

So if I ever see baby robins hopping around, I’ll know to look for their parents, or just figure they will come back. Even a full day later, these ones did. I’m glad I fed them though. Somehow the adult birds were afraid to check to see if babies had survived. Interesting that the babies knew to jump even as young as they were. Cool that the parents picked up as if nothing had happened.

It’s supposed to be 90 million degrees today, with 99% humidity

Summer slammed into the cold rainy days we were so used to, yesterday.

No gradual shift, just wow

We miss California.

Not only the weather.

Everything.

My little microcosm, the overall state of the world. Nothing feels good or right at the moment. Home seems so far away.

I don’t feel tough enough to fight the New England battle today. To listen to the news. To have nothing to look forward to. To simply exist in a world that nothing makes sense in. I’m alone on planet disgruntlement. Add in some muggy heat.

It’s lonely for sure. There must be a reason to get up, but I can think of one.

But this is what I need to remember: often, when there has been a stretch of hard, sometimes something good and unexpected shows up. Not the way I think it will. A day can shift. A moment can.

So I got up and made the bed, found something to wear, dragged my grumpy self to yoga and of course, my mind started to shift while there.

When I arrived back at the house, G was finishing a project and decided we should drive to a beach with waves. As we were leaving, his mom decided to clean the outdoor ceiling fan. She had him get out the ladder and set it up.

As we drove away I said that I tried to talk her out of it. I offered to do it, even as she watched. He sighed and turned around. There was no leaving an eighty seven year old on a ladder in good conscience. We could go later.

But before we had a chance, his brother came to visit earlier than expected. The three of them had a whole ceiling-fan-cleaning-this-is-our-mother moment.

The breezeway was cool, the tide was low, we decided to walk out to the island. It was a great day for a swim and a walk in the water right off the dock. Afterward we enjoyed a cool drink on the breezeway.

Then we all went out for supper and stopped for ice cream. The visit was lovely. The day played out easfully. Nothing big, but enough to shift my whole energy to fun. Lightness won out.

Spirituality is this for me. It’s leaving my heart open, even the tiniest bit, even when it’s hard, so that when lightness settles, I can feel it, and appreciate it and be influenced by it, and then so can my day. It could be the smallest, most subtle of things, that will change energy completely. The force is everywhere, the potential, always there, thankfully. Though often I forget to remember this.

Oh great question. How do I waiste time?

Well, I have plenty of ways depending on the definition.

Luckily,

because my brain might explode from boredom if I didn’t!

Time waisters:

Writing, reading, yoga, painting, designing (in my head), walking, working, shopping, tidying, organizing, meditating, etc

Today we are doing that thing you hear New Englanders do in summer.

We are going to the cape.

I’ve never been. Summer is officially four days away, though its feeling like it won’t be coming this year.

I don’t have any expectations. Its a little fun to say, I’m driving to the cape! Even in dense fog.

Here are some pictures of Spring in NE

The sun came out! Summer happened! What a fun day.

I looked up what I wrote last year.

If you are new to this WP blog site you might not know that the prompt questions are new each day for a year, but then repeat.

I’m fine with answering them again. Often I don’t remember what I said the first time.

I thought I’d look back for this one though.

What do I like about myself?

I said last year that I like that I love sprucing things up. Which I do.

I like moving things around and making things look a tiny bit better. Or a lot better. Arranging, styling, repositioning. I do like this about myself. It makes cleaning fun. I almost never tire of doing arranging. Depending on how much liberty I can take, I could be doing it for days.

I keep moving things around here.

How would I like to retire? Hmmm

My first thought was: in style!

But I think I might like retiring to look a lot like what I’m doing now.

I like staying busy. I like having a variety of projects going. My brain might not love total retirement. It’s hard to know. There are somethings about having to work that suck, but the alternative may weigh out not so much in my favor.

I don’t have a typical situation so I really don’t have a good answer. Art has always felt like I’m playing more than working. Even after hours of this sort of work/play, I wish there were more time to keep working. (I’m often embarrassed by how long I spend)

It’s weird.

Yesterday I washed and waxed my car, it looks great, but I didn’t feel like I wanted to keep doing it, but if I had to meet the plumber or find a sink, or finish a painting, I’d be all in. Pay or no pay, I guess I’m not ready to retire from my projects.

I finished the book by Bruce Lee’s daughter. Finally.

There was a full moon the other night, which we couldn’t see because of all the rain and dense clouds.

It was a large moon, close to the solstice, pinkish in color and significant for other reasons I can’t remember. Called a strawberry moon, (I’ve never heard a moon called that, but I’m not very well read on this topic, so it might be a thing)

I missed it.

One thing I learned from beach walking is that a full moon affects the ocean tides. The bigger (closer to earth) the moon, the higher or lower the tide. It’s that powerful. I suspect that even though I missed seeing the colorful, larger than normal moon, I may have experienced it in other ways.

Bruce Lee talked about our center. He said our power is the strongest and calmest at our core. Like a hurricane. He suggested that we be like the moon reflected on a stream. Stillness in our core, moving without movement.

I love this concept. It’s true, as steady and still and strong that we are at our core, the stronger we will be in martial arts, yoga, and most anything in life, When I stay the truest to myself, things are clearer, I feel more powerful. I get things done.

Sometimes it’s with things that don’t seem very important in the grand scheme.

Our time here on the East coast is always interesting. It often involves a fair amount of trouble shooting. This took me a little while to first realize, then get better at. As Brad Pit once said, you can get better at anything.

And I have. But first, I had to get clear about what is important to me personally, then also learn how to not compromise. I tend to place a high value on peace, which sounds fine, but if I ignore my own peace to keep another peace, I don’t end up feeling very peaceful. Little irony, I guess.

I have learned many things about myself. (Most of my life seems to be lessons for me, about me).

Turns out, I need my own space. Last year I made a place to paint in the garage attic. That was brilliant, until the middle of the summer heat drove me outside. So we created a beach that could survive high tide.

This year, I’m creating a kitchen. This endever has been off and on, and feels like climbing a steep mountain against storm-like winds. Or moving one, (probably two).

Surprisingly, I am doing it. Or maybe not so surprisingly, because I am standing squarely and unmovingly in my center. This on again off again, permit impossibility, crazy idea has been inching forward. It’s happening. Differently than expected, but it is absolutely becoming a reality.

Sometimes you have to do the end things to get others to see that the beginning things are possible. Thats how I have a kitchen without water and an appointment with a plumber set for the end of the month. We even have a guy to dig the below-the-frost-line trench.

In the meantime, I’ve made a pretty functional kitchen. A sink will come eventually, I don’t mind washing dishes like a 17 century Jamestown colonist. At least for a little while. I have a system. Boil water, wash, then rinse in my cute metal tub (it can also double as a planter).

In the meantime, I feel like I have accomplished something cool. I’m happy. I can cook. I might even bake a pie.

It’s a work in progress.

Right in the middle…

Spring is full of possibility, sunshine, flowers, new life, fast moving energy and change.

I like the busyness of nature in the spring. I like all the seasons for different things, but I love watching great bursts of life jumping into existence every Spring.

In California roadside hills turn pink with blooms, giant prehistoric looking plants get big cone shaped flowers in blues and purple and pinks. The sun burns through the marine layer, water warms up, beaches fill with local surfers. Kids are still in school and vacationers haven’t shown up yet. Spring happens early, and quickly. It’s beautiful.

In New England, so much has to happen so fast. Spring is dramatic here, and I love drama. Trees go from bare and seemingly dead to vibrant flowering, giant leaved massive greenness. By late spring, green has taken over the horizon.

Suddenly wildlife is everywhere. Birds are in a collective rush to make nests and babies and fend off other birds. Squirrels, deer, rabbits, fish, hedgehogs, chipmunks, it’s as though I stumbled in to a Beatrix Potter story.

I like waking up to the bird frenzy. I love experiencing so much aliveness. Longer days, flowers, boats on the water, gardens , the smell of grass being cut…Springtime.

This is a true luxury. No one NEEDS paint and brushes. No one needs charcoal or pastels. I’ve lived without, but thankfully never for long.

When I was a child art supplies were in short supply. My mother kept an immaculate house. If she saw anything messy it went straight into the trash. Broken crayons didn’t stand a chance. I hid paper and shabby boxes of crayons under my bed, which was not really a hiding place if you’ve ever lived with anyone like my mother.

I had fun aunties who restocked my little stash on birthdays and Christmas, but there were long stretches in between that challenged my creative brain.

I pillaged sewing scraps from my mom’s sewing room waste basket and taught myself to sew. I know it sounds crazy, but it was the seventies, my mother was more likely to notice if her good scissors were misplaced, than whereever I was hiding out using the giant silver Fiskars at age four.

It was a golden time for a lot of reasons. Freedom and opportunity fueled my ingenuity. I made myself tiny stuffed animals. (Stuffed with toilet paper, they were cuter than you’d think).

Houses were being built near where we lived. Drywall chalk is great to draw on the road with. I guess I invented my own sidewalk chalk. No one I knew had ever heard of the thick pastel filled tubs kids have today.

I cut paper grocery bags into paper and used my mom’s check writing pens to draw. Any show with an art activity segment, captivated me, gave me ideas. I was clearly motivated. I often wonder why I was born with such a need to create.

Art is a luxury I have always found ways to not live without.