Our Family – Page 2 – Pumpkin Hollow Farm

Six Years of Farmgirl School (and the adventure continues)

Posted on November 26, 2018 by Farmgirl

Six years ago today I sat down and wrote my first blog post. I had just recently heard of blogging. I was writing regular columns in a few local newspapers but I was excited to take my words onto a bigger scene. Even if I didn’t get any followers, I would enjoy typing away in the morning while watching out my window, holding a cup of coffee and watching the chickens play. We were still fairly novice at everything from chickens to growing lettuce so the blog has chronicled our vast and adventurous journey and the life of a family, and inadvertently has become a comprehensive site to find out how to do everything from making witch hazel to milking goats. My “How to Make Chokecherry Wine” has had thousands of views over the years. Tomorrow, we will bottle homemade mead.

1512440_670275413024208_1050837640_n — This photo was used in an article in the Washington Post about our family.

I remember seeing a blog that had five hundred followers. I could not believe it. 500! I wondered what that would be like. This morning I have one thousand, one hundred, and two followers. Over 142,000 people have read my blog since I began this journaling journey six years ago in a rented farmhouse with nary an idea of how much to water crops. We’ve come a long way!

1930663_1301446309870829_8695595023461080513_n — Maryjane

46518829_2470611979620917_2515219765790769152_o — Ayla

Six years ago I was preparing for my first granddaughter to arrive. Today my second granddaughter is twelve days old. Many people watched as we moved to what we thought was our forever farm, only to become homeless. You cheered us on as we got back on our feet and purchased a home of our own with a third of an acre and a chicken coop. You have watched me make friends, mourned over deaths with me, read as we created new businesses, patted us on the back as they closed, shared holidays with us. laughed with me, and befriended me.

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Turns out that folks don’t keep blogs going for very long, maybe just a few years. I love blogging. Anyone who enjoys writing ought to start a blog. It is easy and so restorative. I just want to thank all the readers out there right now for giving me an ear, a place to be, for following along on this Farmgirl adventure. It is far more fun to write for an audience.

I read through the November posts from 2012. The first ones. Man, that’s some funny stuff. Typos and all. (Amazing how much one can edit and still overlook typos!) Thanks for purchasing my books. (AuthorKatieSanders.com) I have seven, but Farmgirl School; Homesteading 101, which covered our first few years and my memoir, The Making of a Medicine Woman are near and dear. I will have a second Farmgirl School book out by the end of next year. We have much to discuss about urban farming and lots of projects to do! (Let us turn the back porch into a greenhouse. Should we get ducks? Let’s make a walk-through arbor with pumpkins and twinkly lights!) Oh friends, six years later, we are just getting started. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

11159534_1109447059070756_1791988281148435805_n — Sleepover with a newborn goat at Grammie’s house.

If you have been a follower since the beginning please make a comment. Here’s to another six years of living the good life.

Our Family

The Grand Arrival of Ayla Mae

Posted on November 17, 2018November 17, 2018 by Farmgirl

She would be induced at 10:00 that night. Not wanting to be two hours away, we checked into a hotel with our granddaughter, Maryjane, near the hospital after packing bags and finding a pet sitter. We went swimming and snuggled in for the night, checking my phone every few hours. Maryjane and I had coffee and then went to the hospital while Pa checked in at work. Maryjane’s other grandma came to pick her up. The soon-to-be big sister was nervous and excited and emotional. My daughter, Shyanne, arrived and we all settled in for the seemingly long arrival of a little girl. Pa came back a few hours later. We drank tea, and watched the clock, and talked to relatives on the phone, and tried to help Emily.

Being her second baby, Emily knew what to expect and what to request. She was amazing during her labor. New daddy, Reed, was nervous and doting and sweet.

The nurses all knew that we hoped the baby would arrive that day, November 14th, for it was the fervent request from the new baby’s great, great grandmother. November 14th was my grandparent’s 70th wedding anniversary. Never mind silver or gold, Grandma and Grandpa wanted a baby.

And then quite suddenly it was time. Within thirty minutes a very small little girl with curly, black hair arrived into the arms of her mother. Daddy swelled with pride. Pa and Auntie Shyanne cried. Mama sobbed with joy. I smiled and welcomed the new little one to our family. We are ten now in our tribe. Over a hundred in families that we gained through the children’s partners and our own extended families. There is truly nothing more important to me than our family.

And Ayla Mae was born. A new little medicine woman in our line.

Maryjane bounced into the room accompanied by her grandma. She held a stack of papers that she had composed a song in scribbles on and immediately went to singing to her new baby sister.

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Those near and dear came in to call. Ayla has our family birthmark. She has her daddy’s ears and nose. She is so beautiful. I caught my breath and held her close through the night letting mama and daddy sleep some. And in the quiet of that dimmed hospital room, that precious heartbeat next to mine, I felt the immensity of it all, the blessings that fill my life and this family that we have helped create. A Thanksgiving gift. (And an anniversary one as well!)

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Ayla Mae Thompson

November 14, 2018

Our Family

The Beloved Family

Posted on November 5, 2018November 5, 2018 by Farmgirl

There is a very large photograph in Aunt Donna’s basement of her as a young woman, dark hair, slim figure, standing primly in a beauty pageant. Her forties hair swirled perfectly and her lovely face and smile… my Shyanne looks very much like her.

Aunt Donna is my grandma’s sister. I say ‘is’ even though she passed away on Halloween. She is mentioned throughout this blog many times as my gardening guru, my insight to family history and spirituality, and my friend. At eighty-nine years old, she left behind a family that she had helped keep together over decades. The matriarch. I shall miss visiting her. I shall miss her home. I shall miss asking things like, “What do I do with Jerusalem artichokes?” after a day of harvesting sumac and Oregon grape root, or apples, or grapes or Jerusalem artichokes.

Family is beloved.

44037225_10215687162308748_1147879041202651136_o — My own beautiful family. (From left: Reed, Emily, me, Maryjane, Doug, Andrew, Bree, Shyanne, Jacob)

Family looks differently to different folks, indeed, but a family is a family. Even though the actual definition is of blood and descent, I feel the dictionary ought to update. I was born into a very large family. As I grow older in the line, the family line changes and we all take different places. My grandmother is now the matriarch. There are many pieces missing in between, either from death or distance or apathy, they move away or fall apart or come closer and evolve.

45033191_2434233349925447_8651717481804595200_n — Maryjane’s beloved Aunt Pat (my dear friend)

My granddaughter, Maryjane, knew Aunt Donna. She knows my grandparents on one side. She also called my friend, Kat, grandma and calls Rod, grandpa. She calls my great friends, Auntie and Uncle. The harsh lines of lineage change and soften. Maryjane’s Pa adopted all my children when they were very small. There is no question that he is their father and his entire side of the family can be found penned into Ancestry.com as such. My lovely, dark skinned sister and brother are as much my brother and sister as my blond brother and sister.

10473185_904162309599233_7067065576786265761_n — Four of the five of us. (From left: Patrick, Vanessa, Joel, me)

And to Maryjane there is no difference between anyone. If they are in our lives, they are family. Community and family and friends intertwine and become stronger. Find those that bring you joy and choose to spend time with them. Call once a week, pen a note and send it off. Be there. Be present. Be kind. Be thankful. Because family, made up of the kindest and those that love us, is beloved.

28951916_2108987399116712_726039160254627840_n — My world.

Our Family

The Tale of a Novel (Cherokee Home)

Posted on October 24, 2018 by Farmgirl

An artist’s craft does not come from their own mind, but rather from somewhere indescribable. Authors often talk about when inspiration hits, the dishes pile up, things get set aside, and they just write before it leaves them. Writers certainly incorporate their own experiences and their own knowledge. Writers will double check dates, facts, history, making sure that everything works together. But the writer will be surprised and delighted as they actually jot the story down on paper or wildly type to keep up.

Ever since I received a spiral notebook for Christmas in 1984, I have been writing. Inspiration and the Beyond have been good to me this year. Three books in one year. (I am smidge exhausted!), including my very first novel which came out this last week.

Many times ideas will not wait for the writer. If you don’t take advantage of the gift of inspiration, it will flit on to the next writer and it won’t be long before you see “your” idea in a bookstore near you. I was lucky this one waited for me.

Two and a half years ago I sat in my apartment researching my genealogy looking for the names and tribes that my mentor had mentioned to me while we were working together. Medicine people are usually quite clairvoyant and he had told me names and places of my Native American ancestors. I found the name of the grandmother on the side that I knew was Cherokee (before I found the line on the other side as well) and pieced together her history. Her son had killed himself while gathering corn for supper one evening around 1930. His widow’s brother came from California to retrieve her and her three children, the youngest of which was my grandpa George. I did not know he was born in Oklahoma. In Chickasaw territory. During the time when Natives were being killed for their land by the oil companies. During the time that Cherokees were flocking to California, by force or by promises of riches, at that very time.

As family silence would have it, or I suppose most of the time families just don’t know, I will never really know what happened but a story so beautiful and thrilling filled my mind utilizing all the ceremonies and language and happenings of that era and swirling them into a fictional tale. My love of Little House on the Prairie and of history came painting forth. Several chapters too long and an unknown ending caused me to put it away.

Shyanne, my lovely daughter, was the only one that I let proofread it, and she inquired suddenly a few months ago about the book and where it was. I decided to open it up and see if the inspiration was still there. And to my great joy it was. Having forgotten most of it by this time, I was enthralled as I read it. Most of the latter chapters were scrapped, a new ending unfolded, and a smaller sized novel was created. I love this book. I am so thrilled to be the one to write it and bring it forth to the world to read. It is based on true events because of the history of the time, most of the herbalist events were actually my own true stories, and the ceremonies and many memories of how things were are transposed from my friends’ tales to this book. All caught together in a synonymous web of truth meeting mostly fiction. It could be classified as either teen or adult fiction. I think the prose would suit anyone and will certainly educate and entertain.

I am so pleased to present to you my first novel, Cherokee Home.

Click Here to see it on Amazon!

Our Family

Close Two, On With the New

Posted on October 1, 2018 by Farmgirl

They closed with little fanfare. New opportunities only come from shut doors.

One shop that had been in place for years transfers to my daughter, Shyanne, and she will have more success without the overhead. The new shop space is left better than it was before. No one came and the fates have spoken. I did get a new piano out of the deal. The abandoned beauty was left in the back of the shop covered in years of plaster and dirt. Restored and tuned, it sits in my living room ready to be played. So, silver linings all around.

It’s never a mistake to follow your dreams. I always encourage folks to take the leap. Sometimes I fly, sometimes I fall pretty hard, but I dreamt, I tried, I lived. My house is now filled with boxes and furniture from both shops and a thin path leads all around. That is my task the next few days (or weeks). I still have taxes to pay and accounts to close. I think I am done with shops and tax accounts and juggling and no pay. Ah yes, and no overhead.

I have a job interview tomorrow to go back into caregiving. I don’t necessarily have to work but the tight budget thing is gets old and I have big plans for this lovely house and yard and y’all know that takes a little cash. So, all good things ahead. Blog posts about redecorating, renovating the kitchen, landscaping the gardens, recipes, and a simple life are still to come. And my new grandbaby will be here soon. I am relieved, overwhelmed, inspired, and grateful. Thanks for following along on the ride. This is indeed a very good life.

Our Family

A New Farmgirl and the Family Farm

Posted on July 10, 2018July 10, 2018 by Farmgirl

A new little farmgirl is joining our family this November. During Emily’s ultrasound yesterday I watched in awe as the little skeleton baby moved her knees into her chest, moved her arms, and turned her head. Is there anything more amazing than new life? My daughter is five months pregnant. Her five year old, our beloved Maryjane Rose, is overjoyed to have a sister coming. We have so much to show her!

New life is everywhere. My garden beds overflow and bees, goldfinches, and hummingbirds delight in nectar as a baby squirrel eats walnuts from the tree. I am not sure if there will be any left for us again this year. There were plenty of mulberries to go around though.

No matter what new endeavors I take on, no matter where my life and studies take us, I always end up back to this place.

“I keep asking myself what I do I want to do now? What are my goals?” I told Emily while we were waiting for the doctor. “And all I want is to be able to live on a big family farm, take the grandkids to see what is growing in the gardens, check on our general store and restaurant, and be together living sustainably.”

“That’s all I want too,” she responded.

At dinner the other night, my son has it all planned out.

In the end, all I want is to live close to the heartbeat of the earth, surrounded by family and community, and live sustainably.

It is time to can peaches today.

Our Family

What if There Were Four? (a joyful family tale)

Posted on April 24, 2018 by Farmgirl

And then they thought, “Why, we should be four. Four holds infinite love at its door.”

But first there was one. She is our youngest daughter, Emily, and she is ever so much fun.

Then there were two. And no one stole my heart faster than you know who…

I became a Grammie and Doug became a Pa and we looked at those two girls with great love and awe.

Then they met Reed, handsome and strong. Of course, for years Emily had known him all along. Maryjane sized him up and thought long and decided they’d keep him from now on.

Then they were three, as happy as can be. They saw concerts and learned yoga and climbed mountains and had fun. They fought and made up and became closer and one. They made a home and a family and are as cute as can be as three.

“But what if we were four?” they whispered in the dark. The spirits of the world gathered and the Creator went to work. They sent a little soul that fit the mold that would give them the role of parents of two.

And so our family grows and grows and hearts are full and celebrations begun. Oh this will be ever fun! November 24th…

Our Family

The Dance of Medicine and Wisdom Keepers…writing my life story

Posted on April 4, 2018April 4, 2018 by Farmgirl

I finished my book.

Two years ago, exactly, I was sitting in my friends’ living room in San Diego. I loved visiting Lisa and Steve. Over glasses of wine we discussed future, the spirit world, wisdom, and a book I should write.

“You should write it on the beach!” Lisa suggested. How lovely that would be.

“I could be on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday!” I exclaimed.

The book came to me in pieces but then our financial stress made me put it away. It came back in a novel form and I didn’t like it so I put it away.

In many books that I have read, spirits help put ideas into one’s head. As soon as Lisa died, my book came to me in a torrent of rapid fire typing. It was finished in two and a half weeks. It is being edited now.

Living my own life again through writing about it was quite the emotional rollercoaster. I was faced with being honest about people in my life. Seeing the truth of matters. Of reliving abusive situations, of struggle, of triumph, and love. The lessons that I have learned along the way from my mentors and my friends and the earth have been staggering, and beautiful, and have led me to this place where I am now. As a healer.

After I finished, I opened a cupboard and a memorial bracelet for my friend, Nancy fell out. I haven’t seen it in a long time. I can feel Kat’s presence. I know that my friends beyond the veil helped me write this book and I hope it will help others, or at the very least, entertain.

This is the book I have been waiting to write. I already have a book signing scheduled. I hope to have many more. I am grateful.

The Making of a Medicine Woman coming soon….(still working on a subtitle!) May 1st.

Our Family

Death and Laughter

Posted on March 19, 2018 by Farmgirl

I can see her still, pixie sized, with soft blond hair just brushing her shoulders, and compassionate, smiling eyes swirling her wine glass. I can see her in the vineyards, on the boat watching the whales, in her home watching inspirational television, in her Fiat driving around dressed smartly. She was one of the wisest women I have ever had the great honor to be friends with. She crossed the veil, with grace and hopes of not returning, last week. She was in her late fifties. Her husband, Steve, my friend for many years, will be driving through and stopping in to see me. We shall cry and reminisce and drink wine in her honor.

If you have followed me for awhile, they were the couple we used to visit in California every few years. I wrote many notes and added many photographs of our adventures through wine country, the Red Wood forest, to the ocean.

Our society doesn’t like to speak of death. We are fearful and clearly do not want to accept it. But telling your loved ones what you want can help ease the decision making in a bereaved spouse and children. It doesn’t all have to be doom and gloom. Death is the next great transition, the next path, it is all beautiful, and it can be spoken of with humor.

When my daughters were young I remember them clearly arguing in the back seat as we drove somewhere about my remains.

I will put her ashes in the compost pile so that she can grow into flowers and trees! The other retorted, No, I am putting her ashes in the lion cage at the zoo. You know she always wanted to be near a lion!

“Excuse me, I am right here!” I said, all of us laughing.

Saturday as Doug and I were driving, we thought of Lisa. I told him when I die call Lauren! She is a friend of mine who specializes in green funerals. The last thing I need is to be filled up with chemicals and shoved into Mother Earth with a final “screw you” inside of my veins. No, just put me in there as is so I can feed a tree and microorganisms without killing everything. Or cremate me and put me in the lion cage. That could be fun.

Doug chimed in,

A deceased woman was seen floating on Minnequa lake on fire this morning in a Viking funeral. Two men in kilts were arrested for disturbing the peace and public drunkenness. The bagpipes were confiscated. Three police officers- friends of the deceased- were arrested for drunkenness and attacking a police officer with a sword. The deceased’s children were seen fleeing the scene.

We laughed at this vibrant scene in our imaginations as we made our way to my brother’s St. Patrick’s day party.

My friend, Nancy, who was a great part of this blog as well, died at fifty-four years old and in her final decisions wanted a green burial. She was buried on her land in a beautiful ceremony right in the path of the easement where the oil companies were going to come through. She had the last laugh!

I turned to Doug and asked him seriously since he doesn’t speak too much of it, “What do you want?” He was silent for a moment and then replied thoughtfully,

I have just one request. I want you to prop me up in the first row and see how many people notice!

Well, that sent us into another round of laughter.

We may not have written down exact plans, but we have the gist of it. Death is not scary. It is just another journey. Save a little money for your burial, write down what you want, and then maybe plan a great reception in your honor complete with Mariachi and margaritas or your flaming corpse on the nearby lake. Send yourself off proper. And love those around you fiercely while they are alive. I will sure miss Lisa.

Our Family

Pa and His Present

Posted on March 8, 2018 by Farmgirl

Two of my favorite people in my world are celebrating their birthdays. My beautiful granddaughter, Maryjane Rose, who adds so much sunshine and love to our family arrived five years ago this morning. It was a snowy March day and we were snowed into the hospital. The next morning dawned bright as Pa celebrated his birthday with a stuffed animal from the gift shop and a new baby girl.

“What should we get Pa for his birthday?” I asked Maryjane while we were shopping. She looked at me blankly. “Nothing,” she replied seriously, “I am his present!” She is all of our present. She brought our family closer than we could imagine. She is such a lovely soul.

And so the next few days will be filled with festivities. We believe in celebrating birthdays to the max around here because each day is not guaranteed and each year is truly a gift. And each soul in our lives truly matter. Each day with these two loves of mine give me more joy than I can type.

I am thankful.

Join me in sending some love and good wishes across the line to Doug and Maryjane. Happy birthday you two!