BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

Since moving into this place a few years ago, I feel I've gotten my relationship with material possessions in balance. Now, most of the stuff lying around my home adds to its charm. When I was a kid and a young adult, stuff-management felt like longing for the new, wading through the clutter of the old, and occasionally expending a little energy cleaning, sorting, reorganizing, or even hiding the mess of it in order to make my spaces presentable to friends and family. For a while, my hospitality style was something along the lines of, "oh crap, someone's coming, better clean up!" I'm no neat freak, but I'm proud of the fact that my hospitality style now aligns better with my heart's intentions: "Yes! Come by! Any time!" You'll see crayons all over the table and dogs all over the couch . . . nothing at all to be ashamed of. I haven't done a major Kondoesque purge, but after four moves in five years I have gradually given away almost everyt...

Today's the day! I check in for knee surgery at 1 pm and may be released as early as 6 pm. Thanks again to every reader, donor, dinner-bringer, and well-wisher who helped get me to this day. One positive side effect of this injury has been that I've become a more careful steward of my financial health. Knowing that I'm not only facing big medical bills but also investing the hard-earned money of my beloved community in my recovery, I've been careful to watch every penny that leaves my wallet for any reason at all. It may take months or years, but with your support I believe I can emerge from this experience both physically AND financially healthy. I started budgeting carefully about three years ago, but I fudged a bit. "Oh, I know I'm over budget but one dinner out won't kill us." "Oh, I know I don't have anything allocated to gifts this month but she would LOVE that." "Oh, one blueberry bush won't break the bank." Now, I...

It's been a long time since I blogged here. Sorry about that! It's been a full month—of work, of doctor's appointments, of slow but steady healing, of cow kisses and dog cuddles, of births and deaths in my small community. I am having knee surgery Tuesday, for—at a minimum—bone fragment removal and cartilage repair. There may also be some cartilage grafting and ligament reconstruction. Whether my recovery timeline will be six weeks or six months, I don't yet know. In preparation for the procedure, I was asked to ensure my last will and testament, health care directive (living will), and durable power of attorney for health care were up to date. This is a safe procedure, and my doctor and I feel great about going forward. I've seen an internist who gave my heart two thumbs up (I have a common and mild heart defect and a history of TIA), and I and my care team are absolutely confident that I'm going to be sitting on the couch Wednesday morning watching House reru...

Those of you who read "Brays of Our Lives" back in the 00s may remember " the Habitat "—a 400 square foot patch described before as, " rotten plywood, mangled barbed wire fences, old metal hardware, cinder blocks, burn barrels and fiberglass boat hull sections. A section of the property that will be allowed to return to a natural state, obscuring the items that are not a)burnable, or b)recyclable. You will build a nice safe fence around "the habitat", and you will enjoy hearing the tap-tap-tap of the yellow-bellied sapsuckers and seeing the flutter of goldfinches hopping out of the underbrush and into the pasture through gaps in the woven wire."  Even here at the Ark, where my lot measures a mere 7,200 square feet, I have a Habitat—a place in the corner of the yard where fallen branches, raked up yard-debris, and old Christmas trees go. I think of it less as a yard-care quick fix, and more as a way of giving back to the wild creatures with whom I...

photo by Michael Foley It's been three and a half weeks since I broke my knee on that fateful sledding trip (pictured above). I have managed to fit a lot in while somehow also being more still, for more days in a row, than at any other time in my adult life. I've vacuumed once, arduously, with one crutch. I've participated in a four day workshop at work, kept up the 9-5 pace except for a few excursions to doctors' offices, and watched from the sidelines as the cows relocated but I've also done a whole lot of nothing. I've watched my kids do all sorts of chores they didn't know how to do before. I've ordered my dog and cat food online. I've sent my dad out for hay and sent my boyfriend out for groceries. I've worked from the comfort of my couch, invited the kids to tuck me into bed a few times rather than making the climb to their upstairs bedrooms, and read books in bed during the day more than once—something I loved to do as a child. I think one...

Ooooh, I almost forgot this week's most exciting news! You can now see Dahlia and Rosie Cotton on a live barn cam. Access the CaMooRa here:  www.tinyurl.com/CowCam

From left: Rosie Cotton, Dahlia, Joan, and Nicolas This week has been so full! Full of generosity, challenges, joy, learning, healing, and exciting transitions. The cows moved on Saturday to Ballydidean Farm , where they'll have beautiful accommodations and be tended by a wonderful family. They're just five minutes from my home, which will come in handy when I can drive and walk again (still crutching, and still staying in a straight leg brace at least until my January 22 surgical consultation). My friend Marta at work started a fundraiser to help me with my medical costs, which is a tremendous relief. I am in communication with a banker about cashing out some home equity if needed but that sort of thing moves slowly, and the bills are arriving now. I'm so grateful to those who've chipped in so that I don't have to choose between groceries and surgery! Getting a more substantial brace on Friday made a huge difference in my comfort. It immobilizes my knee completely...

Laid Up A new year is dawning and all is well, my right knee excepted. I injured myself in Sun Valley—luckily, on the final day of an otherwise wonderful vacation. Sadly, I wasn't up to anything glamorous like snowboarding or heli-skiiing. I was on a sledding hill— spectating on a sledding hill no less. I turned to look at my daughter for a moment, and in that moment I was struck from the side by a little boy on a great big sled. I got an ambulance ride, a reset patella, and weeks to months on crutches, with the extent of my tendon and ligament injuries yet to be determined. I'm noticing how many people care for me. Neighbors and friends have dropped in to visit and leave care packages. My boyfriend has stocked the fridge and pantry so my kids can help themselves to easy meals, and this morning he blew his "I don't cook" cover by making me a delicious breakfast. My daughter made me a delicious lunch. A dear friend from work made an unsolicited donation toward my ...