In we go.

These are our former chickens.

We told them not to roost in that tree.

These are the current chickens. I’m putting food out for them in front of my studio window so I can keep an eye on them.

Cold has settled in to stay, vegetable crops are harvested, and the studio is our main work space again. We have had the unexpected and very late arrival of a new calf, but thankfully it’s truly as robust a new critter as ever I’ve seen. The poor soul will know it’s first northern winter without benefit of a summer to fatten up first. We normally only calve in spring for that reason, but sometimes babies happen when they happen. It’s mother lost her calf to a bad delivery last year so we’re just glad they’re both happy and well. We’ve got lots of straw and grain to keep them cozy.

I predict that this house will be a very colourful place when we emerge in the spring.

Down down down down down

It’s a deeply rainy day and I’m right in the middle of my brain, sorting through the archives. I have to sort through those archives in order to sort through my written archives – the lifetime of longhand notes and journals filled with the prompts and outlines of pretty much every creative project I’ve ever undertaken and journey along the way.

Is a very grand way of saying procrastination pile.

Children are wonderful procrastination killers. Mine dragged them all out of the cupboard yesterday, and with the clouds closing in I couldn’t argue the timing to finally sit down and deal with it.

So here I go.

andy study

Five Years Ago

 

I was a performer. With a very, very, very, very, very small p.

I worked at corporate events. I was the back and front end for a very small entertainment company. I was the production manager.

And the janitor.

And the onsite producer/performer at a lot of very interesting events that paid me well and took me many interesting places. The last place it took me was one of my favorite places that it often took me – to the Banff Springs Hotel. Above is the view from the ballroom where I performed. It was also the view from the private room the client provided for me. It was a great show with a great cast – every single one of them professionals that I sincerely enjoyed performing with.

This was the show I knew I had to go out on.

I knew it would take all of my eleven years experience playing performer roster tetris to fill all the casting requirements for all of the company’s upcoming commitments without me. We were diving headfirst into busy season and I stood there, overlooking this beautiful expanse, resolving that this had to be my last show.

Which was all very fine and well except that I had just bought a house and didn’t have another job yet.

But it was my last show. It was as anticipated a difficult extraction but honestly, this sprout was root bound and the hammer had to hit the pot. A new job was found, all accommodations were made to transition the company to my departure, and I was free.

And the five years since have been filled with new beginnings. New places, new experiences. New Friends. With a very, very, very, very, very capital F.

Don’t stay stuck just because it seems like the worst possible time to move.

On this first day.

 

We arose early for no reason in particular and had our usual breakfast.  The morning was cold and the dew was heavy.  Instead of charging the front door after breakfast as she usually does my daughter handed me a dog movie and promptly sunk so deeply into the sofa I thought the upholstery had turned carnivorous.

A few plants outside needed water, but we are at last nearing the end of growing season, and with the cooler overnight temperatures I’m having to haul less and less everyday. The rhythm of our day is changing swiftly with the season.

It’s time to start bringing life indoors. Soon enough there will be entire days spent inside. Soon enough there will be more dark hours than light.

Time to welcome myself home.