Switch

 I think it's safe to say that this year has been an Awakening in some form or another for many of us. For myself, experiencing a Health crisis amidst a pandemic certainly left me shook. Back in 2014 I was in the best health of my life. I promised myself then that I would never let myself fall into a state of dis-ease ever again. And here I am 6 years later, awash in a disarray of medical mystery. 

It took years of hard work and dedication to reclaim my health in my late twenties. Having diminished that almost completely by my mid-30s has left me mourning the loss of something that meant everything to me. Freedom from unnecessary daily suffering. I struggled my entire life with some autoimmune disorder or another, and for the most part I'd finally had them under control. I had found the will and desire to put in the effort to take the best care of myself that I could. I had shelter, a kitchen and a garden. I had learned to make do and thrive in an environment that was once killing me.

Then something happened. Well a bunch of things happened, a sudden change in my state of mind, my environment and my intention. I held onto the self care habits for as long as I could despite my situation, but somewhere along the way I lost the most important thing. My peace of mind.

I catch myself forgetting to breathe sometimes. Anxiety, guilt, depression.. internal things. Feelings I haven't dealt with following a series of traumas. And instead of addressing them, I've buried them in busi-ness and obsessive, damaging behaviours. I've been exporting my efforts into rearing animals and keeping gardens, yet failing to allow myself to fully benefit from the positive environment I'm attempting to create for myself. From the outside looking in, it appears that I should be healthy, but I'm not. I'm sick, and tired, and often and a great deal of pain.

I find myself mindlessly going through the motions of the day. Perhaps I have been stuck on autopilot more than I realized. I find that being more mindful in my actions and more specific in my intentions alleviates anxiety, but I have been forgetting to do this... I feel like I've spent this entire year just waiting for something. All the medical testing, sudden flare ups and fear of the unknown has me stuck in this vicious cycle of distracted inaction.

I'm taking a moment to recognize this, and to write it out as a reminder, and to share it for the sake of accountability. I owe myself better than my current experience. I deserve to enjoy the life that I have built up for myself without being stuck in the clutches of discomfort caused by a myriad of probably preventable health issues that could be avoided by diverting all of this stress. I need to flip the switch.


It's time to do better.

6 years out here.

 6 years ago today I woke up on the West Coast after a three and a half day bus ride. I can still remember how I felt to walk out the door of my friend's house and into my brand new world. I spent a week hiking around the city and the provincial parks that surround it. Massive trees fascinate me, and I Revel in their company. I could feel presence again. I remembered what it was like to be in the moment, to feel every breath.

I had no direction, no real plan. All I knew is that I had arrived, I was home... And my destination would be in every single step to come. I tripped around the mainland for a week before venturing to the island. I spent time there with a good friend to reflect and adventure. I prepared myself to find temporary employment until I figured out my footings.

Temporary employment, a few temporary places, and time had passed.. I even ventured back east in the middle of winter to empty out my locker. I returned to find jobs I enjoyed, gardening by the ocean and on the mountainside. The more time I spent in the city immersed in it's happenings, the more I wanted out of it. I was drawn to the forest, the mountains, the water.. it's what I came for. My quest took be back to nature. Fate forced me into it..

Halloween night 2015- the rain burst through the ceiling in my rental house, straight into my bedroom. I took my rent money the next day and bought a pickup truck. It was my home for half a year, at the base of a mountain down by the river. I learned a lot about myself that winter. My limits, my ability to love unconditionally, my ability to change. The evolution from truck to tent to couch to van to farmhouse was a slow and eventful one.

I remember the day J and I drove all the way out here in sub zero temperatures to look at the house. Small, drafty, but that view... I couldn't get over it, I was instantly smitten. It has a yard, room for a garden. Just enough space to live, and a full kitchen. I had to make this place my home. And I did.. boy did I ever.

Our first year we started as soon as the ground thawed. We built one garden bed, and then another, and another... we were blessed with an abundance to share. Year two brought the animals. Rabbits, goats, and then chickens... year three was the year of the pigs. The year of spiraling outward from our tiny home base. Exploring other land use options in our area. Becoming further integrated into the community. Building real connections with our neighbours.

I woke up this morning, in our fourth year in the valley... 6 years after that first morning I woke up on the coast. Today I had that same sense of presence as I walked out the door to let out the ducks and chickens. I felt a strange wave of accomplishment wash over me as I pulled hay from the loft for the goats. Sometimes I still can't believe it... I brought my hobby farming- homesteading dreams to this great big place and somehow made it happen.


Today I go to bed thankful. My freezer and pantry are full of abundance. My dehydrator has been running for days. The kitchen is loaded with stacks of totes of harvest waiting it's turn to be processed and packed away. Who knew I'd make it this far. Tomorrow is a new day.

[Photographic] memory loss

 Photography is a strange beast in my life. How I ended up getting into it in the first place, was my very first experience of losing photographs. When I was 11 years old, I was lucky enough to attend the Tim Hortons children's camp in beautiful Kananaskis Alberta. It was truly an experience of a lifetime. Memories so grandiose, they shaped the path of the rest of my life. I took with me a 110 film camera. It was 1996.

I took the full roll of pictures, saving one for the flight back home. Or so I thought. After waiting the two weeks for my photos to return from processing, I was all but devastated to realize that there was some sort of a shutter problem. Only the first two pictures on the roll had taken, and the rest were blank. I promised myself I would one day have a proper camera, and return to the mountains. Boy did I ever...

I've experienced some other unfortunate mishaps throughout my photography 'career'. Accidentally exposing an entire roll of film from a ceremony, and when digital first came about I'd unintentionally deleted an entire photo shoot for a Big Time Magazine that involved a bunch of people from a bunch of places getting together. There is nothing I could do but redo it. I will never forget that.



A couple years ago my folks drove all the way out here from back east with all my totes of Photographs & Memories. One big tote in particular had my entire collection of negatives from over the years. The black and white that I developed by hand in the darkroom, the medium format film, years and years and hundreds.. no thousands of still images in their raw form. As well as *all* of my original prints. When they first arrived, I opened them up to take a quick look through, and closed the tote again forever. Until the other day.

It was a dear friend's birthday shortly ago. One of my earliest friends, one that shares the same love and appreciation for photography as I. A friend that stood next to me in that darkroom, that was in so many of those photographs from the years passed. Her birthday inspired me to finally open the box. I unburied it from the stack of totes still awaiting their sorting day, and dragged it out into the light. I opened the lid, and was immediately horrified.

It looked as though someone had opened the lid, poured a bucket of water into the tote, and closed it to let it mold over for the next couple few years. Several different colours of mold at that. Mostly emanating from the darkroom bag that held the negatives. How in the... I have no idea. They'd been in there for easily a decade or more and were fine. Condensation? Some sort of leak? Many of the photographs still in envelopes were stuck together, negatives too. Soggy in their sleeves. I stared dumbfounded for a moment, and then immediately started rifling the moldy envelopes into the trash.

Some of the photos that were on top of the stack of little albums made it out mostly unscathed. And of course the album on top was the oldest one, with said dear friend in the picture. Mission accomplished, at least.. I did my best to take all the moldy bits out of the tote and set it aside. I will at some point, maybe even in the next few weeks, make an attempt to salvage some of the wreckage. Truth be told, having to one day soon deal with these totes has been stressing me out a little. And shockingly, I'm not as devastated as I thought I would be. 

I often wonder why we so value the mementos. Tidbits of the past- we're the only species that seems to hold on to them so. I have thought several times since I moved here that I should have kept my library, craft supplies, paints and useful things that I gave away, and instead given away all of the memorabilia. But that's not what happened. And it's all here, still waiting for me...

A timely pandemic

I'm not sure I want things to go back to normal. I don't think the normal we had was doing us much good. Many of us anyways.. myself included. I've been struggling with my health for years, and this past year has been the most turbulent. It's kind of crazy to even think it, but if it wasn't for this pandemic I may have never woken up to the reality of my situation until it was much too late.

I spent the better part of a week in the hospital on an Intravenous. My pancreas, liver and kidneys went haywire, and my stomach lining was all but gone. I had just experienced the most intense pain of my life, and all I could think about was the fact that I was missing work. I wasn't worried about my health as much as my responsibilities- job wise and financially.

Quite literally I would not have voluntarily applied for medical leave if it was not absolutely required of me at that time. If it were my choice, and I would have been able to proceed with screenings and treatment while still going to work, I would have opted to do so. Even though it hasn't worked for me in the past. Even though I was aware it would be difficult, uncomfortable and possibly dangerous. Even though the likelihood of healing would have been greatly reduced.

It's been 10 weeks, and only now am I beginning to realize how imperative it is for me to be in the best environment possible to heal. I'm not better yet. Hell, I haven't even been able to complete the screening and diagnosis process due to the covid. I've been waiting in limbo trying to figure out for myself what's happening internally so that I can begin to correct it. And honestly, now that I'm getting into it, I truly believe any sort of actual healing would not have been impossible otherwise.

Being mostly homebound, I have the time and mental space to really pay attention to what I'm doing hourly and daily, so that I can monitor how it affects me and my condition. The food I eat, how much and when. How much sleep I get, or don't.. whether I remember to drink enough water to satiate my kidney function..what hurts, what helps, which organs are affected by what,  what becomes inflamed when.

Moving into my eleventh week on the homestead, I'm finally starting to get a good idea. A touch of a grasp on what's happening to me. And even starting to figure out how to manage my condition to keep up with everyday life. Thing is, in order for me to maintain and continue in the direction of healing, the reality of everyday life for me must change.

...

I'm 35 years old. I have been working since I was 14. 40-60 hours a week all summer if I could, and weekends in the school year. The further into high school I got, the more I worked. By the end of school I ended up finishing early so that I could work full time. Not always did I have a place to live, but I always had means of supporting myself. And between work and school it didn't much matter where I spent the very few hours of down time in between.

By 22 I felt the burn. I opted for a seasonal rotation of employment- load up on hours for a couple months at a time so I could take a few months at a time off to travel. The traveling of course came with it's own work, for several summers I'd go to either the east or west coast to work until work ran out, chill for a few weeks to enjoy it, and come back home. Being transient lessened my expenses for certain things, so I spent a little less time doing hard labour so I could spend more time on the trails and in the trees.

It worked well for me for nearly a decade. But as I made a running slide into my thirties, it all caught up to me quickly. My body isn't as keen as it once was sleeping on the ground or in the back of a truck. My recovery time is longer, I need a bit more actual rest. Having a place to call home became imperative, and now it's finally time I take advantage of the opportunity- to use this time at Home to Heal.

...

But I can't go through all this just to come out the other side and go back to normal, the very normal that got me to this level of dis-ease and discomfort in the first place. Every job I've ever had has taken it's toll. It's the only kind of work I know, what I'm good at. Physical. Hard. Work. I'm in construction now, before that was landscaping and gardening on all scales. Before that was warehouse jobs, garden centers, even the photo lab was hard on the body with repetitive heavy lifting of the giant paper cartridges and photo chemicals that I now know had long term effects on my inner organs.

When I ended up taking a dive with my health I'd gotten myself down to 30 hour work weeks already, with 15 hours of driving on top. Though I had the right idea limiting my hours a bit, I don't think it was enough. Reality is though, maintaining a role in society requires an income. I've had a bit of a break from having to stress about that aspect of daily life for a minute, finally utilizing the insurance I've been paying into for years- but my time is almost up.

Now I must consider my reentry into the game. I have to make a decision- going back to what I was doing is not an option if I wish to also maintain my health. I can either go back to work very part time and find other means of supplementing my income, or consider long term disability while I further pursue my health paradox. Both options have their own sets of benefits and drawbacks, so I must carefully weigh my options in the coming weeks.


It's been a timely pandemic indeed. I refuse to let the lessons learned- about my health, job and food security go to waste. It's been an eye opening experience on many levels, and now more than ever, it's time for change.

Essential.

I'm one of the "lucky" ones whose job is considered essential. A couple weeks ago, my health began to fail me as I realized I was in the throes of a terribly painful autoimmune flare. My entire innards are inflamed and bleeding. Wedging me firmly into the "at-risk" category, as if I wasn't there already. For a couple weeks before all this, I was conflicted.. thankful I still have a job to go to, and afraid to go to work.

Just as I was leaving the hospital, my doctor called me. She'd received the reports from my weekend stay and had to check in. I explained to her what was going on and said, maybe I shouldn't be going to work.. I could hear her stand up on the other end of the line as her voice changed, realizing I was still going in..

Stay. Home.

That is what's essential right now. To not go to work and let my body heal. It took me more than a bit to accept this. And even though I have mostly come to terms with it, I keep pushing myself to feel good enough to last a full shift on my feet and moving. Some days are better than others. I've had two days this past week that amount to spending 90% of my time in bed, feeling like garbage.

As it turns out, my staying on the homestead has become my essential role these days. It's been an unusually dry, sunny April which means the freshly seeded beds need to be watered several times a day. Given the current state of things, our ever important food gardens feel extra critical to produce this season. I'm hardly surprised anymore to go to the grocery and not find things like carrots or fresh greens.

Speaking of food availability, another item that's been harder to find these days is eggs. As luck would have it, a friend has the hookups with a local free range organic flock and we're able to source a case of eggs a week to disperse to our neighbours. Not for profits, just for the accompanying joy and sense of accomplishment that comes with knowing you can help someone even in a small way. The experience in doing so has been one that will stick with me for years to come.

I feel the most essential thing to address right now for many of us is our mental health. It's not every day that every facet of our lives is affected by a global pandemic, and the effects unseen can be the most damaging. I spent 2 weeks having panic attacks about still having to work, and harder panic attacks about my job situation possibly shutting down. My body forcing me into taking leave had me scared about getting employment insurance, and even now receiving the funds has come with it's own pile of stress. It's imperative both for my recovery and to make it though this mentally, that I learn to chill the fack out.

To all my essential and frontline working friends, my heart is with you. Thank you for keeping us safe and fed. To my homies working from home, I'm glad you are safe. Please take good care. To everyone caught in the vortex of uncertainty, don't forget- we're in this alone, together. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need a friend to talk to.

Health and Un-wellness

I'm writing about this because it's a part of my
journey. I'm writing about this so that I don't forget.

Wednesday after lunch, I started to feel pain in my back- right around my kidney. I figured with all the stress, and maybe I wasn't drinking enough water that I possibly had a kidney infection. I left work early in a great deal of pain and went to a walk-in clinic. I insisted it had to be an infection. They took a quick urine sample and found that there was no infection, and based on my pain, most likely a kidney stone. I took the doctor's advice and a prescription to help things move along.

The next day, the same pain. Only a little more intense. It had changed and moved, it was now radiating through my core, hurting between my ribs at the base, right on top of my stomach. Having an appointment scheduled to talk to my doctor early Friday morning, I decided to just go home, drink water and try to make myself comfortable until I could get some advice.

Friday morning rolls around, and it seems to have calmed down, although persistent and concerning. I explained to my doctor, she said it could very well be a gallstone, and that if the pain got worse or I felt feverish to go to the hospital right away. I thought to myself, I don't think it'll get bad enough to have to do that. But it did.

We were already home for farming Friday and the doc's appointment, so we did what we do and went up to the farmstead to get some work done. We set up the tent, and started to work on the barn and clearing bramble off the fence. I felt a bit hungry, so I stopped for a snack. Little did I know, I was about to experience the absolute worst pain of my life (so far..).

The pain came on in a matter of minutes, about half an hour after eating. It was intense, suffocating pain. It started as a sharp pinch in my core, and like lighting quickly radiated out through my spine and ribs. I felt like I was simultaneously being blown apart from the inside, and crushed from the outside right around my middle. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't drive, in fact I couldn't stop myself from crying out in pain. We left everything as it was and went back to the house.

I tried the usual, slam some water and sit on the toilet. Everything I tried to do (or not do) seemed to make it worse. I became delirious in pain. I was starting to pass out from it. I begged J not to call 911, but alas... I could hear him on the phone. They could hear me screaming. An ambulance was sent to pick me up right away. I could barely get myself up, but I walked into the ambulance hunched over. They strapped a mask on me and handed me a "just in case" bag.. the pain was making me nauseous. I had completely lost my lunch just before they arrived.

The ambulance attendant asked for a brief of my medical history, starting from now and working back. I realized that by the time I had made it all the way back to my first memories of digestive issues, we were already in town.. a 20 minute drive. The list is long, and health has been a struggle for me my whole life. We arrived at the hospital, and the pain was starting to subside. Blood was drawn, vials were taken.

My bloodwork was showing that my kidneys were in fact inflamed, and my liver enzymes were crazy high. Normal being from 10 to 60 units per liter. Mine was closer to 800. Same with my pancreatic enzymes, they were almost 10 times higher than they should be. They monitored me for a few hours, put an order in for an ultrasound, and eventually sent me home. I was instructed to have liquids if anything, and get some rest, and return in the morning to retest my blood.

The phone woke me up. It was the receptionist in the imaging department asking if I could come in right away. Perfect, I had to go back for morning bloodwork anyways. Everything all at once. I was asked if I had eaten or had anything to drink which I hadn't. I went in right away. My blood levels had come way back down, the imaging showed minor swelling. After assessing the symptoms, the doctor on call had concluded that it was a stomach ulcer and depletion of my stomach lining, but also a possibility of pancreatitis. He didn't think it was likely given my age and general healthy lifestyle, but worth keeping an eye on. He instructed me to stick to a liquid diet for a few days to let my system rest.

Perfect, I thought.. I have a juicer and a blender and it's kind of already how I do. Sunday afternoon rolls around, I'd just made a batch of clear celery and cucumber green juice, and an opportunity arose for us to collect a free table saw from a curbside in town. I drank the juice, loaded into the van, and made it to town and *almost* all the way back... the gas station was closer, so I pulled over. I didn't realize till I went in, of course.. because of the virus, public washrooms aren't open. I went back out towards the van and collapsed.

I did what I was told. I had stuck to liquids, I thought I was okay. But this time.. this time was even more intense than ever. I felt like I drank a bottle of molten lava. I was screaming uncontrollably. J picked me up and took me the rest of the way home so that I could die on the toilet. He was visibly upset. I begged him not to call an ambulance in my disoriented screams. He called my parents, he called his parents.. he was in tears and didn't know what to do. He demanded I get in the truck, he could get me to the hospital faster than waiting for the ambulance. Once my guts finally finished spasming out all the liquids I'd consumed, I literally crawled bawling to the truck.

It was the longest ride of my life. I struggled to breathe between heaving from the pain. He pulled up at the emergency doors and I tumbled out into the driveway. The doctor from the morning before was there. He wasn't impressed to see me back. I insisted that I'd followed his instruction, and yet the pain had doubled this time. It was the worst thing I'd felt ever. I was delirious. I was hooked up to the cartiograph machine, and then rushed into an xray.

After several attempts on my tiny veins, the nurse finally found a place to put an IV and immediately loaded me up. Within minutes I couldn't feel a thing. I barely remember being hooked up to a drip, and being taken to a bed. All I remember was wretching every time I tried to move from the sheer intensity of the morphine. They'd stacked me with a quadruple dose. Given the amount of pain I was in, I wasn't about to complain...

I came to, wide awake of course, at 4am as I do, in a bed in a big room by myself. I still had my mukluks on in the bed. Once I was able to stand, I rolled my IV stand and myself to the washroom. And that's about as far as I'd get.

It was a long day. It seemed like an eternity had passed in this big room all alone. The nurse came in to change my fluid bag. I spent most of my time trying to find a position to lay that was tolerable for the pain in my core, but possible without ripping the tube from my vein. I wished I'd brought a book. The pain was still present, but it left enough space for my mind to wander.

Around 9am, an unexpected food tray arrived. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to eat it. Jello, apple juice and coffee. I asked for water. I tried a couple scoops of jello and just a sip of juice, and it was near instant regret. As the pain rose in my torso, I felt a bit defeated. Frustration set in. I asked the nurse if I could have broth and tea next time.

1030am. I'm unhooked. The IV port was still in my hand, but I was given time off the drip to adjust for lunch. Eventually I got my broth and tea. It took a while, but I was able to drink most of it down. It felt good to be able to drink something warm. Just after I finished, the doctor came in. She told me what was going on with my pancreas, and then started through the list of possible reasons. First question as always, do you drink? No, I haven't for years. It's the most common cause if pancreatitis and I have never been a drinker. Smoke? Nope, quit two years ago. Saturated fats? Processed foods? No and no.. in fact, I often get made fun of at work for how healthy I eat.

I explained to her all the other problems I've had over the years, and the events leading up to this, and as soon as I mentioned a slough of autoimmune disorders I've had and currently struggle with, it clicked. It's my own immune system. But why? That's the mystery...

Sooo how long I gotta stay in the hospital for? Given the current state of things, the hospital is an extra anxious place to be. She said to me, as soon as we're sure you can at least keep something liquid down. I pointed to the empty bowl and half empty tea. I explained to her that I can't handle the rest of the acidy sugary things on a good day. She implied that she'd rather I stay to avoid another episode, but if I could promise to stick to their strict guidelines, I could be allowed to leave until my CT scan. We talked and waited a little bit longer to be sure. Once I proved I was capable, the discharge forms were completed and the port removed from my hand.

My doctor called as soon as I got home. She'd received the reports from the hospital from all my visits over the weekend, and knowing me, she'd praised me for actually going to a hospital like she'd said. I have an amazing doctor, and I know I'm lucky for that. She's willing to help me find the best specialists to look into what's happening to me. But for now, rest. She ordered me to stay home. I need to heal.


So, that's what imma do...
To be continued.

2020- going viral.

Friday morning I went to my secret little grocery store next to one of our job sites in the city. Up until now in this hysteria, nobody really knew about it unless they lived close by. I wanted to stock up on produce for the weekend for my juice feast, and the store was packed for 10 in the morning. Usually it's pretty quiet on my break.

There was barely 6 packs of toilet paper left, no water, very little canned food, almost no rice... it's setting in. The lineups were running back around the store to cash out. I was able to grab all of the produce I went in for... given the utter chaos, this surprised me.

I understand the CDC recommending people always have a month's worth of food on hand in case of things like this, natural disasters that close roads, weather events that close stores etc. I get that. Especially living out here, which is why we're always as stocked as can be. Our reserves saved us this winter when we were stuck at home during storms, and short on cash not having worked our regular hours. Life would have been hungry without it.

It's easy to do without waiting till shit hits the fan and having to join the masses in the panic buying insanity. Buy a couple extra things when you shop. If it's an item you use regularly and it's on sale, buy two. That sort of thing. Keep your cupboards full and wash your hands, and you'll more than likely survive the winter. Our reserves are a little short coming out of the slow season, but I don't have the money right now to fill a cart with dry goods, and my health right now depends on the fresh stuff.

I'm standing there in line with my hand basket full of produce, and the people with overflowing carts of everything under the sun are looking at me like I'm crazy. I was just grateful that no one had clued in yet to buy any fresh fruits and vegetables. I felt almost foolish stocking up for my weekend of juicing.

I wonder how far this will go, how crazy people will get before this is over. I wonder if in the next few days it'll calm down, or if the hysteria will ramp up tenfold as the government steps in to make us all stay home. I wonder if people going into panic mode will end us before any virus does. I wonder if this will change our generation.

Don't get me wrong, of course the virus concerns me. I have a compromised immune system, and my lungs are already damaged from years of abuse. I'm worried for the majority of my neighbours here that are well onto the most vulnerable age bracket. I'm concerned for my folks and older relatives back home. I'm worried that if it gets any worse, it'll affect our community economically, negatively impacting small local businesses and farmers.

We are doing our part by not going places we don't need to. Social distancing isn't really a problem for us, we're the type of people to keep to ourselves. Given people's behaviour the past week, I'm not enthusiastic about exposing myself to the madness. I have no problem with staying home. Gardening isn't cancelled. Speaking of which..

We're getting started out in the yard. Now that we know we'll be here for at least another season, we can start thinking about what to plant. We had considered putting the farm camp build on hold so that I can focus on regaining my health. The current situation has us thinking it will be in our best interest to proceed. It'll be a delicate balance of energy, and we have to remember to pace ourselves.

Things are changing quickly, and now with a global pandemic in the mix, 2020 is bound to be interesting.

I need a minute...

Life got real intense all of a sudden. The past year has been a complete whirlwind. Early in 2019 we were granted use of a five acre homestead, a field and a barn. We got a taste of working on a slightly bigger scale, and it challenged us to adapt quickly. Suddenly we had a couple pigs, then four, then eleven?! Along with an RV camper in the field next to a quarter acre garden. We had an opportunity to try growing dozens of crops we'd never had space for, including four varieties of potatoes and 27 kinds of heirloom tomatoes!

Somewhere along the line, our home base faced a threat and we were forced to figure out a backup plan. We scrambled to set up something somewhat livable in the field and figure out what to do with our belongings. Not a week later, we found out that the five acre acre homestead was also suddenly off the table. The renter that we were subletting the barn and field from was asked to leave after 15 years of renting- which was totally unexpected.

Our main focus at that point became very outward. We diverted all of our energy into looking for a new place to happen. At the height of our search we were presented with an opportunity that was impossible to resist- acreage, forest, orchard and pasture. Space to build, water on site, miles of potential and possibilities. But a completely blank slate.

In all of this, I've been waiting patiently to address my health more properly. After almost a year of waiting, I finally got the appointment that would start the ball rolling on getting a proper diagnosis. Admittedly, all of this finding my health stuff was tossed on the back burner with no chance of recovery in the near future.

Overwhelmed is an understatement. All of this on top of working in the city most of the week, having the farmer's market every Saturday during the growing season, and volunteering for the food waste diversion program every Sunday- life is very very full. My cup overfloweth...

We spent the fall and winter months pushing forward to collect materials and start rebuilding. Knowing that I was spreading my energy too thin, I allowed it. Embraced it.. and when I finally took that minute to take a look at my health, I got sick. Real sick. Perhaps if I hadn't drained myself of every drop of energy every day all season, it might not have hit me so hard. And of course in the thick of the sickness, our van sprung a leak.. and our well pump stopped working. Not having running water when sick is just as fun as it sounds. And the van needed fixing as if the extra expense was exactly what we needed.

So while I'm laid out here in bed, too exhausted to launder my clothes after a few days without water, too sick to take part in any of the rad plans I had this weekend, and too annoyed by the sound of my own wheezing to fall asleep... I reflect.

I need a minute.

That's a difficult thing for me to admit. I feel guilty for the things I miss, the work I'm not getting done, the people I might be letting down. I pushed myself too hard for too long and I'm paying for it dearly. I need time to think about my decisions, what I can do for myself, and what I might need to let go of. I need a minute to rest. 

2020 Time Warp- big things!

I can't believe it's the end of January. 2020 has already made itself out to be quite the ride. In the past few short weeks, so much has changed. This is going to be a big year!

The first unexpected thing to happen was life changing. Our landlord that has been pushing feverishly to have us move along has had a change of heart. Through the process of preparing to move, a million reasons why we shouldn't leave the house floated through our minds. Figuring how exactly we're going to be successful at moving fully off grid in just a few short months was very daunting with all things considered. I don't know exactly what triggered his decision to let us stay, but we're thankful for it. This doesn't in any way mean we're halting the off grid build, it just means we have plenty more time than we figured. We still intend to move forward full tilt, and keep it as our summer escape. For now. Having a plan B is never a bad thing.

I think a big part of the reason we butted heads so much with him was that they're out here full time through the summer months. It's hard to relax and enjoy our Saturdays when they're out here spraying their crops and having bus loads of pickers working around our house at all hours. Having a peaceful dinner on the porch during the week isn't a thing in the summer, the constant interjection keeps us on edge, and creates unnecessary conflict. I wasn't surprised when he served the eviction notice, nor was anyone else. He's known for being a dicey character, and the fact that we've been able to keep the peace with him for so long is baffling to those that know him.

The next big thing I wasn't expecting in January was a call from the BC Women's Hospital. I've been waiting for an appointment with a specialist for months, but was expecting a call around September. There was a cancellation, and I was on the 'urgent' list so they called with an open appointment. I finally get the chance to address one of the several autoimmune diseases that has been plaguing my life with an unreal amount of suffering and sickness. I'm nervous but also good and ready to finally have an opportunity to get real help!

Besides this, my overall motivation to take control of my health has been rekindled. After reading several case studies and researching diet and environmental inputs that trigger autoimmune reactions, I feel like I have a much better informed idea of how to help myself. Foods to eliminate, including ones you'd never suspect to be triggers! And what kinds of stresses are doing the most damage that I can strategically defuse over time.

And now, of all the things I had never imagined myself doing... today we loaded up the goats to bring them to a filming studio in the city. They met up with a recruiter and animal trainers to work with them on a filming set. It was very exciting! They're well trained, good mannered little dudes that won over a heart or two. Wouldn't it be something if they had a show of their own some day. They are the goodest boys.

Life is so strange and unpredictable. It's only just the end of January, and I can't imagine what other weird and wonderful opportunities and experiences we have to look forward to this year. Be sure to stay tuned to our YouTube channel for videos and updates! Thanks for reading..
Happy 2020!

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