Fence fixing mirrors

Today I fixed a fence and gate with my dad.  He has done this hundreds of times in his life.  And, I'm sure he asked for my help dozens of times as a kid, but then dropped it after an apathetic shrug or two on my part.  I didn't care about fence fixing growing up, now I find it satisfying and interesting.  Isn't that funny how that works?

So we dug two foot deep holes in the rockiest and rootiest soil you can imagine.  Which led to a discussion about how the Homesteaders who farmed this land pretty much picked the worst place to farm.  The soil is not, shall we say, cooperative in the least.  And, when I look around at all of the fence posts that are on the verge of toppling over, I envision months, and months of backbreaking work.  BUT, they did it.  They dug each and every fence post around these pastures.  Through this insanely rocky soil.  And, they successfully gardened and raised livestock.  I'm not sure if they had neighborly help, but I kinda doubt it. 

Made me think that fence fixing is a bit reflective of my life presently.  I'm fixing the gaps and repairing the damage of the past few years.  Mainly just normal wear and tear, but some neglected bits need tightening, some posts need to be replaced.  I need to work on securing my family.  Anyway, not to get too sentimental about fixing a damn fence, but it just got me thinking, and well I am a sentimental gal. 

Saturday was our Fall Harvest party, which I totally neglected to blog about.  Not sure why that passed me by, but it did.  The weather was hot for a Fall gathering, and we had a good turn out.  My sweet friend Nicole who teaches dance at the University choreographed a dance with some of her students at the Homestead, called "Golden".  They performed it at the party, and it was awesome.  They were in period costume.  The dancers wore turn of the century homesteading women dresses.  I wanted every single one of them.  I would wear them regularly.  Seriously.  I'm sure people would mistaken me for an insane person, but still.  

The dance was so lovely, and sad, heavy and hard.  It reminded me of a book I read called The Homesman, about homesteading women who had gone insane and had to be escorted back east by another lonely homesteading woman.  Tough times those women and men had, easy to romanticize, but the reality was much more daunting.  So lovely.  So hard.  Life. 

And keeping with that theme, I have found parenting two young boys to be that as well.  So lovely.  So hard.  We go to the library a lot, and I decided to check into to some books to help moms not lose their minds.  I found an audio set of Buddhism for Mothers, and I have to say it is helping me.  It isn't a cure all, or a fad diet type parenting book.  But it does offer practical ways to be more mindful about anger and triggers.  It is Buddhist in approach, and so is all about letting go of attachments to stories you might be telling yourself, and just being in the moment.  It has been helpful for me. 

And now my youngest little man has woken up, and I no longer get to think about all these heady things, but instead I get to live them right now.  Happy Thursday.