Busy Hands Homestead

Strong, cold wind blows down the beach, the water is so cold my toes tingled and the kids still get soaked from head to toe, splashing in the space between solid land and sea. The kids shriek and run.  They gather up rocks, poke at pieces of jelly fish, and these moments alone would have been worth the drive.  The moments with friends and the most decadent camping food, in the history of camping, would have been worth the drive. But, the excuse for this trip, is a moment 1 minute and 55 seconds in length. Intellectually, I had been prepared for this moment. We had listened to podcasts, heard other people's stories, shushed the children on the eleven hour drive split between two days: "Shhh!!! Listen, to this story.  They are talking about what we are about to see." "Don't look at the sun without your glasses.  It's dangerous." The sun was bright, the temperature dropped, our shadows become duplicate, the spaces between the leaves turne...

My eyes are squeezed shut, I am gripping the sides of the car, my feet are pushing into the floorboard I am so nervous I have to pee.  I am terrified.  There was an upside down car laying in the boulder field just below the road, granted, It looked like it had been there for 40 years or so, but it instantly gave an image to what I was feeling.  I have a phobia of mountain roads and yet I regularly sit in the passenger seat while Adam patiently tries to drive while I freak out.  Why?  Well,I like picking huckleberries and I love hot springs so I find myself in the situation more often than I would like to admit.  How did I get here this time? I am entering the fourth decade of life and to celebrate we turned off our cell phones, threw food, clothes, the tent, the dogs and the kids into the car and embarked on a road trip to places we have never been before.  A loop through Idaho stopping to dip into a few of the many hot springs that dot the state a...

100% rain in the forecast. I waver.  Should we?  Shouldn't we? And then I decide. We should. We definitely should use Ivory's school free day to drive across the border into Idaho and hike to the Jerry Johnson hot springs. I chop carrots, apples, cheese and pack up crackers, hard boiled eggs and almond butter. I wrestle sleepy kiddos out of pajamas and into clothes. I cram the dogs into the tiny hatch back space in the back of the car. We are on week four of this year's field season.  Adam leaves early in the morning on Monday and often doesn't return until Friday night.  The weekends are taken by catching up on garden chores, laundry, dishes and packing him up again for the next week.  He has been working hard outside all week and I have been running a household.  Our needs clash.  I want out and he wants a chance to sit down. This isn't just about my need to walk under the trees, to get out of town and ignore my never ending to do list. ...

We decided not to drive down the Bitterroot to meet our friends (and go ice fishing) because they had no phone reception and the last message I received from my friend doubted the ability of our car to reach the cabin.  We own no winter gear - no cross country skis, no snowshoes and the potential walk with the kids to the cabin seemed overwhelming.  So instead I turned to the internet to try and find something we could do without cross country skis or snowshoes. I found this: A few years old post about a place called Renova Hot Springs .  They were there in February and it looked fun...  so I googled directions.  We packed lunch and off we went. We stopped to eat our lunch in Butte, MT and wandered around the historic section of town.  The buildings are beautiful.  Intricate details that speak of a wealth that once was. We cross the continental divide.  Now all the rivers flow east - to the other ocean. The mountains were beautifu...

Fairy slipper - This is the first one we say, and then we noticed them everywhere. A two year old chopping down morels with glee!   A quick dip in the hot spring.  We made it home just as it was getting dark.   When we got into the car it was just after 7pm (Montana time). We had been tromping around the woods for 9 hours.  No complaints from the kids...  we stopped at the Lochsa Lodge for dinner... and did not clean our kitchen.  Here is our loot: 8 lbs of morels!

I spent the week indoors wedged in the tiny space between my sewing machine, cutting table and ironing board that I have carved out for myself in the living room. I finished apron after apron, day after day, when something just snapped. I found myself flailing, feeling like I was failing at everything. A body that just could not stretch anymore - give more hugs, more cuddles, to be suckled and needed, needed, always needed. My husband came home (finally) - sick - wanting hugs, cuddles and affirmation leaving me to feel like I was just failing at one more thing. My usual coffee offered no pick me up, no solace. Yoga was a momentary reprieve, a quiet space within the droves of self doubt. A space that vanished the moment I walked back into my house. Chopping vegetables, cooking dinner, which I usually find to be almost therapeutic did not calm me. Washing the dishes only created order on my counter and left me in the same chaotic state as before. The walls moved in. ...