Crossing Over

I popped over to the West side of the Northern Cascades yesterday.
Blinded by the sun, nearly, as I squinted up at the toothy peaks of this range.

A sharp intake of breath now, 
the residue of winter clinging 
to a handful of valleys, 
twisting white in the summer air.

I turned and floated my way down to Diablo Lake:
cool blue drink, pebbled soul, whisky warm wind.
I stood by the lake edge and pondered on why I love traveling so well.  I do a lot of it!  I hop in my truck and I go.  I pack the dogs, a pair of jeans and my fly rod and I take myself places.  But I also love my home.  I miss it, the quiet space that lies inside my 102 year old farmhouse walls.  My books.  My herbal tea collection.  The sound of the breeze in the grapevines…
I think I travel to free myself from the things that find their way inside me.  
I travel to get back to the core of myself.
To rest.  To recover.  To pour myself out.  To be filled up again.
To see friends and family; to be in their care.
To take moments at the edge of lakes, beneath the boughs of trees, under the wings of eagles; to rise up, to descend.
To wade through all of those emotions I’ve stored up, to cure those little heart bruises inflicted by the carelessness of others,
to understand the world around me and to be in it and part of it.
To feel space.
I’m just:
Another organism. 
Another soul.
Another truck on the highway.
One more girl with her windows down and the breeze in her hair.

To collect a nest.
To inspect a fish.
To feel the sun.
To call the wind.
To trip and fall and get up again.

Do you travel for the same reasons?
Do you travel at all?
To test the water.
To be tested by the water.
Today, all is full.
Full of love.

Wheat

Standing hip deep in my heritage.
Loving on Eastern Washington, most fiercely;
missing the Great Northern Plains of Saskatchewan, most tenderly.

Taddyporterville:

It was a long hard pull between Pocatello and Spokane
but I arrived late, at Taddyporterville, and dove straight into a couple pairs of healing arms.

Missus and Mister Taddyporter played host to me after my first night on the road and I don’t think there could have been a lovelier or more healing stop over on all of the planet for me.  There’s just something mysteriously and wildly healing and about that woman, and her loyal and lovely man is just as wonderful.  It was the delight of my heart to stay the night in their vintage mansion on a hilltop in Spokane.
The delight of my heart.
Their home is done up in the most breathtaking and comfortable antique fashion, true to the character and age of the home, with perfect taste and delicious quirk in every single room.  I’d like to share some of the experience with you, if you don’t mind looking:
I didn’t even manage to capture an image of Taddy’s rescued deer mouse!  Oi vey!  And the stroll we took over to Rebecca’s house, just down the street, had me swooning, holding a parrot and exclaiming about a cock-a-doodle-doo in a bathroom!
I love it when I get to visit places that I so obviously belong in.  It makes the world seem small and friendly.  It makes my life feel full of destiny.

To say the least, I was sad to pack up and leave in the morning (er….afternoon).
But a giant bag full of corn on the cob and the promise of a swim at Grand Coulee Dam in the heat of the afternoon pushed me onward and closer to Winthrop; to love and a BBQ at the North Cascade Smokejumper Base!

Tallyho!!!
xx
Plume

Back At The Gables

It’s true.
I’m home.
It was a long hard pull, the solo drive home from Robert’s arms to this tangled little home of grapevines and poultry.  But I made it and this morning Idaho is draped in springtime rain and the purple breath of blooming iris out in the yard.

As always, upon returning home after one of these solo ventures, I don’t know where to begin with life again.  I’ve realized that it starts with the smallest details.  I cut some iris for vases around the house.  I’ve cleaned my fridge and vacuumed half the house.  My first load of laundry is on spin cycle.  This afternoon I need to build an Ikea table, purchase tension rods for a new set of curtains as well as a flat of raspberries for some canning plans I have.  I also have about 25 Meyer lemons I need to process in some way (I don’t know what I was thinking when I picked them at the Minor household of Oakland, as if I needed one more project to deal with upon my return home).  Jillian.  Take that back.  Those lemons and their destiny will be a pleasure.  Take it slow, darling, take it slow.

My travels took me:
across Nevada
to the wonderful home of my other parents in Grass Valley
to Allison’s home in San Jose
to the home of Carrie and Dylan in the Oakland hills
to Petaluma
to beach camping in Mendocino County
to the home of Kelly and Brad in Arcata
across Oregon (stuffed full of those wild eyed lumberjacks)
to the home of Candace and Joel
across Washington to the Winthrop smokejumper base and RW’s tired mind and body 
(His fatigue taxes me and talking to him is an emotional roller coaster.  
He is being pushed so hard, to the brink of his abilities, and I’m right there along for the ride.)

I tore myself away from Winthrop (oh the pain of that) and made my way hastily across Washington and Montana
to find myself tumbling over the Idaho state line yesterday morning.
I felt the fullness of her space wrap around me twice and the rest of the road home felt like flying.  I arrived at The Gables to knee deep grass, a dead garden and a thirsty cat.  The ladies say bruck-bruck-hello. Judith is still my feathered darling, Rhonda is still a lazy lady and Winona is as wild as ever.

I’m glad to be here but already find myself missing the road and the Kerouac-ian moments and constant discovery there. 

The floor of my home is strewn with treasures, socks and fishing gear. I’ve been moving my office into the spare room and the spare room into my old office space.  Farley is sleeping on a pile of laundry.  Penelope was just scolded for eating Farley’s food and has exiled herself to the dog bed in the bedroom.  I should call her to me and snuggle her and make sure her feelings are mended.

Now I’m rambling but I’m so terribly overwhelmed by all that needs to be done today.  I keep telling myself to slow down and take all the time I need.  I’ll try my hardest but it’s always a battle to not get carried away and eventually paralyzed by the weight of tasks, duties and the business side of life.

And then there are the weeds choking out the flowers out in the garden spaces.
One thing at a time, cowgirl.  One thing at a time.  

It’s good to be home.
I plan to be in my studio by Friday.
And if I don’t find myself there at that time, I suppose it will mean I needed some more time to get settled in.
I missed you.  It’s only when I’m away that I fully realize the importance of this space and the capturing of my life moments.  I write, photograph and create for me, but sharing it all with you is the delight of my heart.

Onward.
Always onward.
Let’s hit the ground gently and fall into a smooth stride once more.

Love,
The Noisy Plume

PS  Thanks for your lovely notes on my photo posts while I was away.  It was so nice to carry you with me.

Asian Spice and Northern Ice = The Best of Friends Forever

Northern Ice

Asian Spice
[would you look at those lips???]
Home from Chicago!
Yippeeboohoo.
I’m proof of the fact that it is possible to be happy and sad all at once.  Fortunately, I am accustomed to being a tornado of conflicting emotions so I am taking my mental and emotional states in stride.
Summing up my time spent in and around The Windy City:
*SUCH good company
*the melding of souls never felt so good
*plenty of screaming and laughing and laughscreaming
*plenty of obsessing
*plenty of crying
*plenty of praising the Lord
*plenty of swaying to the music while at THIS show
*a sad and lonely and squished flight home
*some of the things I always knew about a certain She were all confirmed which was rather affirming and joyous and glad and really…quite powerful…as strong and amazing friendships often can be
It’s good to be a Yin.
It’s good to have a Yang.
It’s good to come home to you!
And it was good to come home to a short notice visit from RW’s mom and dad!!!  
I’m off to cook the clan some dinner!
I hope you’ve been well.  Give yourself a squeeze for me.
Love,
LOVE