A tree turned to shadow

It whispers my name

Yesterday was my 58th birthday and it’s no longer a horse that I wish for when I blow out the candles, it’s a home. I yearn to come home and settle into a good book, cook dinner—maybe have a friend over, grow a garden, nurse a fallen bird, fix the garbage disposal, paint the walls, maintain the plumbing, fix a chip in the floor, install a new garage door—bring it on.
I worked at the Four Seasons Biltmore banquets where for 8 or 11 hours straight we’d clean, polish, set-up the dining room, unroll the cables, wire up the equipment, bring in the tables, the chairs, the decorations, plants, flowers, silver, crystal, fold the napkins, align the place settings with precision detail, you get the idea, then serve, then take everything down, clean up and put everything away; I mention this because people have told me having a home of one’s own is too much work; having a dog friendly B&B, which has become my dream, especially,  is too much work. Well, I’m not suggesting it for them, it’s for me! I long for a place to unwind, to create, to breathe. A place of my own. I don’t want neighbors within shouting distance, don’t want to share walls, don’t want cars zooming by. I want land. Space, stars, water, wind, trees, critters. How long have I wanted this? Forever. In my childhood it was a ranch with horses—a place where I could teach people the love of animals and how to live harmoniously with the land.

Could I still have a ranch... a forest... a river

Really I haven’t changed; instead of horses, it’s now dogs.

Searching for land and a home

I worked as a planner for both the City and the County. I have an inside knowledge of things that can go wrong with a parcel. Also the same inside knowledge of how to fix it. I helped a friend build his own home on Greenfield Ranch . . . it was off grid. Developing the power, water, septic, food, wildlife, I shared. We made cold boxes for food storage, filtered water from the hand constructed dam, installed deer fencing and below ground irrigation for the fruit trees, waded through thigh high mud in the winter and designed passive cooling in the summer. My friend taught me about solar and wind turbines, prolific compost gardening and cooking. We boiled water on the potbelly stove for our baths. We made our own bread, canned the veges we didn’t consume, there was time for art and appreciation of sweeping leaves. Boredom and burnout were never issues. The morning was full of beauty, the night full of wonder. I don’t understand people who prefer apartments and pink skies, who crave the security of strangers in their midst, who need the convenience of a 24-hr shop 5 min away.

A piece of land I loved

I named this Hero's pond but did not purchase it.

I studied animal science, agriculture, animal production, farm management, then ecology, biointensive organic gardening, environmental planning, biology, electronics, geography… then I lost it and instead of art; computers, multi-media, business, public administration, TESOL and mediation.


Could I create a garden like this and invite you to share?


I only have a little bit of money. No safety net, no backup funds. This journey with the dogs and the recalcitrant LT is to find a rural home, ideally with B&B potential, or perhaps a community. It is all I want.