Sometimes we feel as if we are going nowhere in our endeavours. The children are still very small, and the jobs of cooking, laundry and housework along with taking care of their needs seem to leave little room from anything else. It is important for us to remember at times like these that we are always moving, even when we feel stuck. When I catalogue what Alex has done with the cabin, I can see how much we have actually moved. He has put a 150 watt photovoltaic solar panel on the roof, and hooked it up to batteries and a small inverter for power. He and my brother moved a Stanley range with a back boiler into the cabin, just like the one we use in the house. It will provide heat and hot water in the winter. We moved in a couch which Alex’s Mum gave us five years ago, when we moved home from Oxford. Alex has put decking around the cabin, made from pallets and other “waste” wood. Most recently, he built a platform for a double bed, which gives us a sleeping area which saves on floor space. Still to go in are a sink unit and gas rings. It will really be an independent living space.
The cabin today, with its new roof, solar panels, battery-house (to the left) and deck.
Cabin interior: Alex's home-made sleeping loft, with the couch underneath, and power tools in the foreground!
I get a bit frustrated at times because my own work tends to be a repetition of the same things-cooking, laundry, fulfilling the requests of the children. Alex’s tasks, like electricity-free plumbing, hot-tub making and now fitting out the cabin, add up to visible creations, which one can look at and admire. It makes more interesting viewing and conversation than preparing healthy meals, giving another comforting hug after a fall or picking up all the toys yet again. We certainly do not have a system whereby I do all the housework or clean up after Alex, and yet, because he is the one with the building, electrical and plumbing skills, our roles have fallen along somewhat more “traditional” gender lines since we moved here than when we were first together. This can be challenging for me, and I can feel reactive and angry at the “invisibility” of much of my work. It is important for me to remember and honour the importance of the work I am doing, which has to be done all over the world, over and over again. One of my goals is to learn a bit more about carpentry and building, so that I don’t feel so impotent in these areas, and have the opportunity for joy in practical creation which Alex gets. It is also important for my health and well-being that I take myself away from the housework sometimes. This work will never be fully done, and much as I like cleanliness, good food and order, they don’t stick around for long in house where two little children live, play, draw and explore. All my life, I have wanted to be carried away by books, to escape from people and outdoor work. However, I feel so much better for getting my hands in the soil, whether weeding, planting, digging or making and distributing stonk water (as my family call the very smelly nettle and comfrey water which we use to feed the plants).
Stonk water (you're lucky you can't smell this picture)
My tendency is to be overly-cerebral, and to do much of my “living” in my head. A rich inner life is of course a potentially awesome part of being human. Self-awareness and mindfulness are definite priorities of mine. With my personality type, however, it is an important challenge for me to give myself to the present moment. The children and the garden are great teachers of dealing with the here and now, the practical and physical. Sometimes I can fret and worry endlessly about life in my head, while actual life itself is passing me by. The intellect is a powerful tool for working on the mystery of life, and yet for compulsive thinkers like me, doing can often be the more freeing solution. As a dear friend of mine reminds me, any activity can be a meditation. Now I’m going to go out and put some of that lovely smelly water on my plants.
Blog in the Bog 