Gaian Tarot Artist's Journal

Straw Bale Home for Sale on a Jewel of a NW Island

Here are of two views of the great room at Heron House. This is the house that Craig and I built together, lived in for eight wonderful years, and are now releasing to a new owner who will love it as much we do.  Are you that person?  Or do you know someone who might be?   Click here for all the info on the listing and on the island community and location.

"This straw bale home has a unique beauty and feel with its softly curved walls, 10' high wood and beam ceilings, deep window wells and R-48 insulating factor! It's like living inside a sculpture. Special features include a gracious entry with lovely stained glass heron window/door, beach rock fireplace, guest wing with private bath, master bedroom with a lovely tiled bath and "moon window", a second floor bonus room, plus a studio space above the 2 car garage. There is good indoor-outdoor flow with French doors leading to a private, covered deck. The location has a rural feel, and is just around the corner from the beach, adjacent to undevelopable land in back."

Blessed Be.

You know you're home when the kitty's home . . .

Smokey on one of her favorite perches, looking out at Grandmother Cedar. Beyond them, a statue of Bast left by the previous owners holds out an offering bowl. 

Still unpacking and nesting.  More soon!

"Trapped in Paradise!"

Some faraway, online friends have recently asked me why we decided to move off the island.  "But you loved it so much," they say.  Yup, we did. 

Well, I could say it's because Craig's Pluto in Virgo is conjunct my own South Node.  An astrologer told me many years ago that he'll always be dropping bombs on my comfort zones . . . with the corollary, of course, of pushing me — kicking and screaming at times — towards growth and my destiny (North Node in Pisces in the 10th).

Or I could say that our decision to move last August coincided with the onset of Saturn in Virgo squaring my Moon in Taurus (translation:  complete restructuring of one's home life).  And that transit ends in May, when we'll be nice and settled in at Cedar Hills House.

But astrology, like Tarot, only points out the timing of opportunities and challenges in our lives.  It's up to us what we do with the bundle of energy that's available to us during those transits and progressions. 

Movin' on, movin' in . . .

All of our sorting, purging and packing is beginning to pay off.  We moved into a cycle of loading, unloading and unpacking boxes at Cedar Hills House (our new home) and doing a bit of nesting.   (Yes, all those boxes you see in the photo are the after-purge boxes!)   

Nora and I did a cleansing too, with a cauldron lit with native sage and a pocketful of island lavender for blessing.   We cleansed and blessed each doorway and window and room in the entire house, releasing the old and bringing in the new.  We especially blessed Craig and his hard work (he has turned the master bedroom into a righteous studio for me, with new paint and wooden floors.)  We ended our ceremony on the back deck (which you can see through the French doors), in front of Grandmother Cedar, undoubtedly the guardian spirit of this home.   She seemed pretty happy that we were moving in and was definitely pleased with the offerings of sage smoke and dried lavender. 

We'll be moving the furniture next week or the week after.  So, for now, we are between and betwixt, neither here nor there, or rather both at once.  Blessed be!

What You Give is What You Get

Hello dear readers . . . I sure have been scarce in the blogosphere this spring.   But you see, I am still SPPing — sorting, purging and packing.

My mermaid sister Nora spent four days with me last week, helping me to whip things into shape around here.   I really don't think I could have made it through all the emotional landmines without her.   She helped me to sort through all of my dad's things that we had put in the closet after he died.  I filled a bin of memorabilia (and labeled it!) for my son and granddaughter and gave some things away to Nora's kids (my dad was like a grandfather to them).  I gave away his Coast Guard dress uniforms to a local theatre group for costumes.  I felt so guilty about not wanting to keep them, but they were large and bulky.  Nora suggested a theatre group, and it was done.  Hooray!

Christine Kane has a great blog post today about decluttering.  I just had to laugh as I read about the things she says to "toss out right now" since I just finished tossing out many of the things on her list.  Breadmaker, anyone?  Ancient hand-crocheted doilies (or in my case, bad oil paintings by a long-gone aunt)?  A box of old cassette tapes? (I don't even have a cassette player anymore!)

Old Becomes New, Winter to Spring

Just lifting my head up from my ongoing sorting-purging-packing routine to say Happy Spring!   Blessed Ostara!   May we all rejoice in the new life sprouting up around us, whether or not it's still buried in snow!

One of the many projects I'm juggling right now is helping Craig with the marketing for the old Victorian house he spent the last 9 months rehabbing.  When we bought this house it was a mess; some realtors thought it should be a teardown.  But Craig had a vision, and he pulled it off.  Pretty dang impressive!  It even turns out that he has great interior design skills.  Who woulda thunk it. 

So if you know anyone who is interested in moving to Bellingham and is in the market for a 1906 Victorian remodeled with a modern floor plan and a spectacular view of Bellingham Bay and the San Juan Islands . . . visit www.2605Eldridge.com (a nice little website I made with iWeb) and check it out.   Open House is this coming weekend!

And may Flora dance in your garden!

The Fabled Land of Now

(Postcard from my parents' honeymoon, 1948)

We are in between winter and spring here on my little island.  We have nothing like the piles of snow at Cate's place, or at my grandbaby Grace's house in Maine.  Here the mornings have been bringing us frost as thick as fur that melts by mid morning.

I step outside and think, "It smells like spring!" — that rich, fecund, earthy smell.  Is it the earthworms stirring things up in the soil that makes everything smell so . . . alive?   My neighbor Colleen and I walk in the bright sunshine by the bay, alternately taking our jackets off and putting them back on.  The red-flowering currant (one of the first native plants to bloom each spring) is in fine, fine form.  We spot the white heads of two bald eagles roosting in their favorite Doug fir out on the point.  Sister Great Blue Heron wades in the shallows.   Five black cormorants stand on old pier pilings, spreading their wings to dry.   Sunlight sparkles on pale blue water and I sigh with the deep satisfaction of such sheer beauty.

I notice a thought flit by:  "Shouldn't you be sad that you'll be leaving this so soon?" — followed by another:  "No, I think I'm done with that drama . . ." and I come into Presence, as Eckhart Tolle would say (or is that Wendell Berry?).

A Winter Retreat

My days here in Maine have taken on a pattern, a pattern of service to my family and of spiritual retreat.  I've been influenced, no doubt, by rereading the section on India in Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love. But just as Liz scrubbed the ashram floors each day with grace and goodwill, so do I gladly serve my family. 

A Gift of Grace