Am I in heaven?  No, Paradise.  The night is dark, the moon has yet to show it’s face.  I don’t even know what time it is–10?…  Midnight?… probably closer to 7:30; this is country-time.  I’m waiting for my bath - yes my bath - to cool.  With a gooey bowl of carrot cake for sustenance, tonight  I shall bathe in paradise by lantern light.  Night creatures are chirping and moths are bombing my laptop  screen–eewwwwww.  But remember, Paradise had snakes.

I’m on a tiny wooden deck that cantilevers over a woodland clearing, attached to a tiny aluminum shed (complete with slamming screen door) that serves as a stitching studio.  Out here, giant pines loom overhead, and thickets of wild roses carpet the undergrowth.  Indoors, the floor is pink, the walls creamy white, laddered with shelves holding all manner of fabrics, spools of colorful thread, scraps of tatting , embroidery samplers, lace and all sorts of very feminine ephemera.  Again, am I in heaven? 

On the deck is an old, green painted bench - my luggage rack. Nestled beneath a hedge laden with autumn rose hips,  an old cast iron tub is filled with water from the hose and has been heating over a propane burner for the past two hours–a sublime use of a turkey fryer if you ask me.  I’ve been cautioned that the bottom of the tub might be hot from the burner beneath it - rather like a stock pot on a stove top - and shortly, I intend to be soup!  Apparently one should test carefully; if I showed up with a blistered backside I might have some explaining to do when — and if— I return to the big city.

I’m trying to decide whether or not to light a campfire in my fire bowl, just to the side of the tub.  It seems excessive… critters trilling, lantern light, outdoor tub and carrot cake should be enough, don’t ya think?  But on the other hand when will I next find myself in heaven…or paradise?  I know I plan to light the candlelit chandelier that hangs from a pole protruding from my outdoor sleeping inglenook… Oh, didn’t I mention that?  My bed, my single, sweet, fluffy, white-down-comforted bed is tucked to one side of the deck beneath a shallow, shingled overhang.  Enclosed on three sides it is open to the north, and the sky, the critters, the lantern and…

Earlier this afternoon, I took a little nap only to awake in a puddle of late afternoon sun.  Groggy, relaxed, languid…this must be heaven - no paradise.  We’ll see how the rest of the night goes.  Rabbits are skittering in the trees…I’m telling myself they’re rabbits, that’s my story–I’m sticking to it.  They said the coyotes were out last night, yipping and yelping and doing their screaming coyote thing.  Moose routinely come through here..deer, and elk.  Mostly I’m just glad the yellow jackets have abated along with the heat of the day.

And now, a bath, cake and so to bed.

(I really did write this by lantern-light a couple of weeks ago on my Eastern Washington and Idaho road trip.  It seems a long time ago now.  These days I’m locked in my office, surrounded by resources, pegging away at the final draft of my preserving book and trying not to listen to the sound of the economy crashing around me. 

Two self-employeed artists with one kid in college and another just graduating from high school–and looking at colleges… these are not comfortable times.  And we’re the lucky ones!  No one can take our jobs, we drive old-really, really old, cars, and you can hardly say our nest egg is in danger.  Actually, our nest egg is more “nest” than egg, as we live in it.  We have lived our adult lives (and by definition, those of our children,) investing in our present, pursuing daily goals and dreams, and yes, paying a price at times.  That’s not to say we’re the irresponsible grasshopper of the cautionary fable.  There’s plenty we choose to go without–see old cars above–and we’ve earned our fair share of anxious moments, but how else can we do what we do?

In the end, I think we’re satisfied with our choices.  I know I wouldn’t change much, its been a rich ride, and one that allows me magical trips to Moscow, Idaho.  I’ll write more when I finish my oh-so-looming manuscript.  In the meantime a heartfelt THANK YOU to Mary Jane Butters, Nick, Carol, Brian, Katie and everyone at Paradise Farm.  I was touched by your warm hospitality and generous spirit…not to mention the delicious carrot cake!!!)

This entry was posted on Saturday, October 11th, 2008 at 10:23 am and is filed under Books to write, Garden Destinations, navel gazing, travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.