Harvest

The last time I wrote something on here, I was about to start planting things, and now it's harvest time.  The time between sowing and reaping seems to be the busiest time of year.  When the sun comes out, there is so much to do!  The community garden, my church and the farmer's market have all helped me to feel a part of the place where I live, after a year.  Weeding with people makes for good friendships. 

I didn't know a year ago whether I would find kindred folks around here or not, but I'm glad to find that there are plenty, and some of them even have time to hang out with me!  My new community is very easy going and settled, compared to the city.  Grandmotherly Anna emailed one day and invited me over to pick berries that she's been growing and picking for years and years in her back yard.  I know her family well.  Her daughter and I took a hike at Silver Falls in the early summer, and she is also related to Taj's new principal.  Connections abound. 

Picking berries is something that people in my church do a lot of together.  I've had quite a few invitations.  We have a list serve and people put random requests and offerings on it every day.  Today someone asked for a pressure washer to borrow, and another person said she needed a renter soon. I asked where to get my computer fixed, and if anyone had a carseat for a friend who is coming from out of town for a visit.  I got four offers for each.  We borrow tools, share harvests, give rides and advice.  Being indebted to folks makes me feel a part of things pretty fast.  I like that. 

I'll be headed back down to Monmouth to work, twice a week, again in a month, but for the summer I've enjoyed being in my new town full time.  I've been working hard at weddings at the local resort hotel, and making pennies an hour selling fair trade goods at the farmers market, taking my dogs for walks and doing lots and lots of weeding, between home and community garden.  I even have a tan for the first time in my life! 

A week ago a friend came down from Portland to go wine tasting with me, and I brought her to a concert in a church-friend's huge back yard, where another church friend's husband played some folk music.  I know that she must have felt so strange seeing me with this new life, but it was ok with me.  I really felt a part of my community for the first time, and didn't regret losing the one I used to have in the city.  It does help that it has been a summer full of reunions.  I've been to two family reunions for my family, hosted one for Jimmy's, and in two weeks there will be one at the beach with my former home-group "tribe" at Imago Dei.

I live for reunions.  I'm so so sentimental.  With our July reunion that I started for my dad and his cousins a few years ago, I see the value of getting together each year when we lose one of his cousins, and we all remember visiting with them just a year prior at the last reunion.  Death is so hard, but a tradition of being together with family makes for less regret.  In my own life, I haven't had any friends die yet, but I still like to keep up with people, and not just on Facebook.  I really like to be able to visit in a relaxed way.  I used to go to the annual BBQ and baptism at Imago to see my people, but they don't do that any more, so we're starting our own gathering at Rockaway Beach.  I hope it can be a yearly tradition.  Friends from Chicago and Seattle are coming, even.  I'm so excited to see them.

This photo is of the spot where we have my dad's reunion every year, where his great grandparents were married, in Champoeg.

Losing the weekly farmers market ritual next month would have been hard, but I have another venture to replace it!  I have been on the list for a vendor space at the local antique mall for nine months now, and I've finally come up on the list.  This may be just what I need for my creative side to awaken.  I've been scouring country estate sales all over the county, and having so much fun!  There are some pretty amazing treasures out here in the boondocks.  Here are two of them, new neighbors of mine and my new friend's husband and son, just in case you thought everyone out here was politically ignorant.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8xOel2f5pI&feature=relmfu 

Time to plant something.

I've officially lived in Yamhill County for six continuous months now, and while I'm not jumping for joy to be out of the city, I can picture things working out for me here. In some ways it has been like outer space--I experience familiar things in little spurts or via long-distance communication and hardly ever in a relaxed setting. There are new friends to be discovered here though, and I may have found a few already! (Stay tuned....)

Over this six month period, my heart has become more and more affected by and curious about the land that I drive through every week, and the people who farm it. I've been so interested to know if many of them are eating well and getting access to whole, fresh foods as my gramdpa Bill and grandma Eva did when they were farmerfolk.

One of my favorite memories in all of my life was when my uncle took me to the sweet old general store where my grandpa, who I never met, took him when he was little. The store was far from home, but it had the best quality seeds, so they made the trip once a year for seed. Grandpa died just before I was born, but his legacy of valuing quality food is still strong in our family now.

As I drive through the valley, I see that each giant piece of land seems to be dedicated to just one big crop--mostly nuts, grass, landscape trees, or grapes, and once in a while, corn or pumpkins... this is the way it has been back to the day of my grandparents' parents' farms--I know. It is the way that farming works now that industrial tools are used and big yields are expected. But I wonder how that affects the farmers. Without the basic biodiversity of multiple crop farming, habitats for beneficial insects and essential farming practices like crop rotation aren't able to thrive, and the land is stripped of its rich nutrients. Earth-scientists know this, and yet we continue to farm for the sake of immediate yields and not for the health of the farmland.

I've shown some of the beautiful things that I've witnessed on my country drives, but some of the uglier things have been too shameful to photograph. The cattle farm just between Salem and Rickreall has no visible cows on it. They are hidden in a huge warehouse, and yet their manure pours down the hill in liquid form and floods the trenches that line the expressway. At least a mile of that stretch fills ones nose with pure sulfur, unlike the earthy manure scent I get from the grass-fed cattle farm near to where I turn when I drive from I-5 through French Prairie Farm Country, into the Newberg area.

The white dust that covered much of the farmland near to Taj's school last fall was also disturbing to me. I knew that my great grandfathers, Nils and Robert would not have had such amendments, nor would they have wanted to cover their fields with powdery chemicals, and they certainly would never have sprayed the toxic round-up that is used on all non-organic corn crops these days.

I often cringe when I see Latino workers in the fields, wondering what chemicals they are being subjected to, just because their lives are seen as less valuable in our society. If they weren't seen that way, I'm sure there would be an outcry against the effects that modern farming has on the health of these individuals, as there seems to be in Europe, where migrants don't work on farms as much.

As with all of my heart's social burdens, I have to say "I can't fix this," and move on to do what I can do. Part of what I can do is work with the Sustainability Club at the University, to bring in engaging educators who know more than we do about farming and our land. Part of what I can do is to write this here. But a really satisfying part that I really long to do is to work on my own little bit of land and make it bio-diverse.

I planted some trees and flowers this week, and I can tell you--my little bit of land is pretty much solid clay and rock. Digging a small hole is a major undertaking. There is no way that I could grow tomatoes or potatoes in that soil as it is now. It would be better used for making bricks than growing things. But as part of my weed-management plan (Jimmy is more concerned about killing weeds than growing good things, generally), I've initiated a form of permaculture that is already having wonderful effects. In our ungrassy areas, we laid down newspaper in sheets, five or six sheets thick, and then laid composted mulch on top, with sand mixed in to give it weight. This kills weeds, but it does something else too. After a few years of doing this sandwiching of carbon and nitrogen, there will be a good depth of fertile soil to use for whatever we need to grow. In the meantime, I have a choice....

I stand at the crossroad now of a consequential decision--to plant in raised beds here, on my land where I can watch things grow every day and work alone to fend off weeds and pests, or to join in a communal workforce at the university or at a church nearby, where there are community gardens.

I shared a community garden plot once in Portland. It was really hard, because it was out of sight, and during the summer, completely out of mind. Even with sharing duties with my many co-workers who had been in a very committed group which shared passion for this stuff, it was really hard to pull my part of the weight. The only reason I'm even considering doing it again now is for the sake of my own need for community and for the social power that comes out of a shared vision.

We need so many more community gardens on this planet! Mostly for those people who don't own any land of their own. I believe that we all have a basic need to grow things, even though so many people are out of touch with that need. I feel like it's a human right to be able to grow our own food, for a sense of power over our survival, if nothing else. Having lived in apartments for the past few years, I really appreciate that so few people have access to land. I was fortunate to have spots to plant berry bushes and rhubarb in my last apartment. Most apartment dwellers don't get that.

So I think I'm going to join the garden. I have my own greens here, planted in pots on my porch. Greens are the kind of thing you harvest continually, so that works best on the porch. Rhubarb and berries are perennials--they grow back every year, so they will go in the ground here too, but for my carrots and parsnips and tomatoes and squash, I think I'll join the garden. Hold me to it!

Happy to be Mrs. Moss

Yesterday was Jimmy and my fifth "mo-versary". I first heard about mo(nth)versaries in a book by my favorite theologian, Marva Dawn, who didn't get married until she was in the second half of her life, and who is a big fan of celebration. Taj and I have celebrated them for a few years now, and Jimmy's not as into it, but I like to mark the passing of months and years in little ways, when it's not too much trouble to. What I hoped to do each moversary was to bake one of the recipes of the various cookies that my friend Dana made for our wedding desserts. I haven't managed to find time to do that since our second month, when we were preparing to bring the puppies home. I'm definitely not the Martha Stewart I dream of being.

I think I finally have some perspective on my marriage, after five months, and: this is a good marriage--something I never really dared to hope for. We thought that our slight religious and political differences were going to cause the most trouble, but we found a church that we both like somehow, and it's really just the TV that we bicker over. (He likes it on, and I like it off.) Our worlds are very different, but our marriage works well in spite of that.

About a month ago, I came home after a fun urban weekend in Portland with some friends, and Jimmy decided it was time to show me "The Archery Shop," in Yamhill. He had told me very little about this sacred place where he and his dad go often on Thursday evenings, and he felt that the time had come for me to see it, so I put on my rugged rain boots and gloves (I was told only to dress for cold and mud). We got in his big truck, that has been sitting unused since we got a hybrid this past fall, and we went over some rivers and through some woods, and ended up on a long gravel road that led to one of the most remote stretches of the Yamhill River that you might ever imagine finding. The "shop" was a huge garage-like corrugated metal building with a wood stove inside, and a TV hanging high above it where some sports channel was silently showing golf events, a little store with archery things to buy, and a huge space for shooting targets with bows and arrows from many yards away. The shop owner took our money at the little store, and his grandson was one of two people shooting--he was about Mason's age, 12.

We didn't stay inside though. Jimmy wanted to show me the "3D course". He didn't tell me what that was. He just led me down a steep path toward the river. Next to the river bank, a ways off, there appeared to be a deer laying down. We stopped at a little post with a sign on it, and Jimmy shot at the deer. When we walked up to the deer from many yards away, I saw that it was made of foam rubber, and it had a little, fist-sized brown circle under its rib area, and Jimmy had shot his arrow right into the middle of that circle, without the use of any kind of telephoto lens. The next target was a foam alligator, and the next was a wild turkey! It was fun walking through the woods looking for new foam-animals. I enjoyed seeing him get his arrows into the tiny, invisible targets too.

Jimmy doesn't describe things at length unless it's an idea that has to be explained in order to understand, or when he's giving you a lesson. He sees the beauty of letting us discover things like this first hand for the first time, and I've learned to enjoy that, mostly because I trust him so much, I think. He's really great at demonstrating that people don't have to analyse and articulate as much as I always have--but just trusting natures course, and experiencing it rather than taking everything apart with words and acting like words are sufficient for putting them back together. I feel like we found each other at a good time in my life--I was ready to experience life in a less controlling way, and he is a good example of living life in that way. I had no idea that I was headed here, of course, but it is good to live with someone so different, who isn't as anxious or pressed by the troubles of the entire world.



Jimmy loves to play. When he's not at work, he's usually trying to find ways to get outside and run around, find geo-caches, play frisbee golf, spot wild animals and birds or shoot at things, with pool cues or arrows or guns. I don't naturally tend to do any of these things, but I'm learning to like some of them because he has been such a great teacher. I never had a lesson in bowling or pool before--I figured it was just something some people knew how to do, and others, like me, didn't. When he taught me how to throw a bowling ball, it only took me a few tries, and I started doing well. That was astounding! I don't usually feel very productive when we're doing these kinds of things, but I'm learning to be ok with that, and he reminds me of the ways that play has value.

He likes meat, and I like vegetables and grains best. Good thing he's good at cooking meat! I'm pretty good at cooking it sometimes too. I love that the meat that he brings home every fall lasts all year, and it is free of steroids, hormones and genetically modified feed, and it doesn't create excessive waste or pollution, because it's not bred for humans on land that could be used for growing enough vegetables to feed the world. It is wild. What a luxury to have wild meat! I don't eat the big hunks that he does, but I agree that it tastes amazing. This year Mason will start hunting, so we may have lots! Jimmy is pretty generous with his meat. Come October, you should ask him for a taste.

This weekend we went to the regional archery tournament in Lincoln City. The shooting competitions lasted forever and was pretty unexciting, but the wind and hail storm that rocked Jim's parents' motor home was exciting. We were in there with his folks, their two dogs, and our two dogs. I can see where Jimmy gets his laid back ways. His parents just rolled with all the challenges. The dogs were too freaked out to go outside, and it didn't even seem to bother Jim's mom that my dogs were peeing on the linens and pooping on the floors. She was prepared with all the back-up supplies and she remained unruffled. That's Jimmy too. He knows how to clean the house well, and does so periodically, but he's not going to keep it sparkling clean all the time just in case someone comes over. Man, do I ever have a long way to go in that department. I'm trying to at least keep the clutter level down, but with three kids, it's hard for me sometimes. I'm glad his expectations aren't as high as my mom's.

I always heard that the first year was really rough, but for me, being married is nowhere near as frustrating as dating was. I know that Jimmy will be here for me, and I don't have to worry about him going away, which is what caused me all kinds of anxiety in my past relationships. He's very patient, understanding and forgiving. He even manages to get through my emotional storms without taking them too personally. I am very blessed to be married to such a guy.

Domesticity

I finally had a chance to sink into the Yamhill Valley and its ways over Christmas Break. The week of Thanksgiving Jimmy started a new shift at work in which he works noon to midnight. Then the next week we got two little two month old puppies (My step-son Mason is playing with Kirby, above). So needless to say, when nearly all of the students left campus down in Monmouth during the first week of December, I was eager to stay home and sleep in with my family, and tend to my new little babies. What a godsend to have nearly a month off from driving down to Monmouth.

In the time I had at home, besides keeping the puppies from chewing up and swallowing every single object they get their paws on, I started to do my shopping in McMinnville rather than in Salem, and I started to cook a LOT. We hosted Christmas at our house, which was a first for me. I really enjoyed hosting and cooking for everyone, and buying all of my presents from local farmers, orchards, roasters and artisans.

When I went through the House of Myrrh workshop called "Heart Design" in 2010, one of the projects we did was to make a "life dream" map. A lot of my life's dreams have been coming true lately--besides getting married; having a beautiful, memorable wedding; and having a sweet, strong man around to help me do things I could never do on my own, I have time and funds to buy fresh, local (or wild!) produce and cook things from scratch more than once a week. ...Now I just need a dreamy garden and a trip on the orient express.... oh and I still need to become a jazz singer. Those are less attainable dreams, but possible still!

I dream I didn't have that's coming true this Lenten season, that might strike you as almost as terrifying as being a jazz singer, is that I'm going to preach a sermon at a church! One of the pastors that oversees my position at work asked me to preach at her church, a tiny little Episcopal one in Monmouth. I'm not sure if I will ever agree to preach again in the future, but for this one time, I'm really excited about it! During a trip to Birmingham three winters ago, a very liberated older woman named Katie, a deacon in a Episcopal church, and a virtual stranger who I was staying the night with because of a mutual friend, said something rather prophetic as she was driving me to the airport: she said that I should look into being ordained. I was so shocked and honored at the thought... it would have never occurred to me at that point. I'm still pretty sure it's not my calling, but maybe preaching will shed light on that some more. I think my husband is hoping I won't like it too much. It must be weird for men to be married to women pastors. It's not a traditional picture of domesticity.

I'd like to play the domestic role and decorate my new house more, but I haven't had a lot of money to since I had to get a new roof for my rental house in Portland. I think I'll enjoy it more decorating gradually anyway. I spent this past weeks' spending money on a concert in Portland. It was very satisfying. So many old friends and acquaintances were there. It was emotional for me. Portland tugs at my heart these days. I like where I live because I feel really free to be me here. In the city there is so much pressure to keep up with trends and norms. I guess if I was a trend-lover then I would feel more free in the city. I do miss the familiar sights and smells, the variety, and the intense nostalgia that Portland holds, but I think that leaving has made it all the sweeter.

I have found some of my places here in Yamhill County. They are still new, but they are definitely mine now. Some of them are: the Mac Goodwill, George Fox, The Red Fox Bakery (thanks Diane!), A Family Healing Center, The Blue Goat Cafe in Amity, Eggers Acres, North Valley Friends Church, Coffee Cottage, Harvest Fresh Grocery, and Recipe--dumbest name ever for a restaurant (says the Portlander in me), but it is suited to this quirky, pretentious but un-hip wine country life, and they do cook very good, locally harvested food, which is really all that matters to me.

Here's what I made from scratch today--quinoa salad with arugula and almonds, and spicy pumpkin and hominy stew.

Winter Growth

Driving on my route from work to home today, it was 2pm and the temperature still hadn't risen above freezing, and the sun hadn't been out all day, so the tree limbs and blades of grass were still heavily coated with frost. It was magical. What I kept noticing, though, was that in every bare tree that stood along the highway and near a field, there seemed to be a beautiful and regal hawk, perched in a top branch. I counted seven or eight, right along the highway. I never saw so many hawks during my life as a city dweller. They are all over out here.

The nut orchards are frosty and bare limbed, but the nuts are still being sold everywhere, according to signs on the roadsides. Otherwise, it's time to start living on canned produce and stuff from down south! No produce stands are open now--just grocery stores.

With the lack of fruit hanging around on my daily commute, I've taken to listening to sermons about fruit. Today on my drive I listened to a sermon by Tim Keller from Galations five, about the fruit of the Spirit. It helped me so much to hear his ideas. The main thing that I brought away from it was the idea that Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Faithfullness, Self Control, etc, don't grow in us EVER, except for the by the presence and work of God's Spirit... and in the presence of the Spirit, heart-growth and heart-change is ALWAYS happening, regardless of our asking or trying--any more than an apple can ask or try... even in the winter seasons when we don't see things growing as quickly.

I've been pretty insecure lately about the lack of progress that I've made in areas that have made me annoying to live with, and yet, as I tell Jimmy, I'm so much better than I used to be. I used to be borderline OCD--I'd freak out when roommates left pools of water or grease on counters or food smudges on the fridge, and now I can live with three children, one of which leaves smudges and pools everywhere. It doesn't get to me any more. The fact that I've gotten better--more patient and more temperate, is a mystery to me. It didn't come about by my own will or effort--that's clear. But I've been heartfully hoping that I will continue to get better, so as to make life easier for my husband.

Dr Keller also said that fruit has nothing to do with other peoples lives being changed when they are around us. He said that religious people without any fruit of the Spirit get away with taking credit for the spirit's growing fruit in other people's lives "through their ministry," but this says nothing about the Spirit being in their own life, and shows no evidence of their own fruit. All it shows is that God is present in the other person's heart. Interesting. This seems very true to me. When people claim credit for our growth, we learn, falsely, that growth is conditional and circumstantial, dependant on a person with expertise.

Most profound was the idea that "All of the fruit of the Spirit exist together, and ONLY together". Real, deep, lasting Peace always comes with Humility (like the converse--anxiety always comes with the arrogance of thinking we know what is supposed to happen), and Self control always comes with Joy (addiction is only necessary in the absence of Joy). If we have Peace, but not Self control or Faithfulness, then we just have an unruffled temperament--it's not the fruit of the Spirit alive and growing in us.

The idea of Joy coming from God and not from circumstance really got me. When he mentioned the idea of Joy being something that God grows in us, and can't be found apart from God, I realized that I've been telling myself a lie--I've been taking responsibility for my husband's joy-level since the day we got married. What a weight off to see that I don't need to do that. Not that I don't annoy him, but his essential Joy and Peace don't ever come from me. That is true, clearly, and such a relief. I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this, among women. Hopefully you will remind me of it later on if I remind you of it now. I'm sure to forget it!

Christmas Tree Season

Today I saw maybe 15 trucks full of Christmas Trees on the highways between home and work. They were looking very rushed too. I got the impression that they were in a rush because vendors underestimated the number of Christmas trees that were needed for the season. They say that in hard economic times, it becomes even more important to folks to celebrate family traditions like Christmas.

The grape leaves have all fallen now, and frost covers the fields every morning, but harvesting is still happening in the Willamette Valley. There are still a few fields with lots of pumpkins left out to rot. It seems that the Christmas consumers on the West Coast are much more eager than the Halloween ones were. Either that, or it was a REALLY good year for pumpkins.

The patterns in my life are changing too, as harvest time winds down. Jimmy has started to work fewer and longer shifts, and he's no longer getting up at 5:30am. With him staying up later, I'm enjoying staying up a bit later too (as you might notice by the time stamped on this entry). I like the new schedule for many reasons. For one, I have only two or three weeknights a week that I have to cook for both ends of the meat-eating and non-meat eating spectrum. Since I have only a half time job, I have been trying to do most of the cooking, but it's challenging when you like to cook from scratch, and your kids are all very picky, and one is a vegetarian, while dad is a huge meat lover and mom is lactose intolerant.

Tonight I cooked for just the three kids, who all three happen to love mac and cheese. My first preseverative-filled dinner was a blast. Wow. That was easy! I only had to cut up some veggies and heat leftovers for myself while the pasta simmered. I like the challenge of cooking for my family a lot, actually, but after three nights in a row it gets hard. Now I have just a day or two at a time. That is perfect. The new schedule is great for another reason too--it gives me and Jim time alone on our two common days off, when the kids are at school. We haven't really met our goal of having twice-monthly dates since we have been married, so far, unless you count a one-hour escape to do some quick wine tasting up the street. Maybe now we'll at least get some relaxed lunch dates in.

Work is getting better for me now, too. Two students are becoming good friends, and when I walk through campus nowadays I often see two or three students with whom I've had a solid conversation, so when I smile at them, it is really sincere and not so awkward. It takes so long to build relationships! This weekend we are having a retreat at the beach, and for once, I'm not anxious about whether anyone will come or whether we'll have things to talk about if they do. Things are starting to feel natural, and organic.

By the time my daughter sees this entry on facebook, the secret will be out--we will have two new members added to our family tomorrow. They are two little boy Yorkie pups that we are buying the kids as an early Christmas present. It will be so fun and so chaotic around here for the next few weeks, while we get them trained. A great Christmas experience!

Yesterday I realized how wonderful it is to live in the country at Christmastime. I drove through four small towns, all of which had the same 40's era Christmas decorations--either wreaths, candy canes, or christmas tree shaped lit-fake-fir-garlands, hung high on electric poles and light posts. It was so charming and quaint, to see this variety of americana replacing traffic and strip malls that I always associated with Christmas before, having grown up in Clackamas, where most of my family still lives. No strip malls in my life any more. I am blessed. I'm excited to host my family's Christmas gathering out here in the country this year!

Planting and Politics

The grape leaves are all slowly turning a rusty brown color now, and the grapes have all been plucked. It's time to bundle up for the winter and stock up on lots of veggies and fruit at the produce stands that are closing down one by one, until Spring. I got some amazing deals at one yesterday. Thirty nine cent a pound apples, fifty cent a pound carrots and tomatoes and three red bell peppers for a dollar! I wish I had time to do some canning! Next year.

For the past couple of weekends I've been trying to get time to plant our leftover wedding favors--some Japanese Maple trees--in the yard, but opportunities keep coming up that get in my way... this past weekend the thing that came up was a work opportunity. A student that I've been getting to know, who heads up the Sustainability Club at Western invited me to a conference called "Powershift West" where students get together every other year to plan for campaigns and initiatives on campus that will educate and transform the way we work, eat and play ...and lobby our leaders. The conference covered progressive topics like land development, corporate power structure, and green energy, transporation and agriculture.

It was so good to be in the middle of a youth-led educational movement that addressed so many of my own interests. Some of the things that I'm hoping to look into more are: The Steady State Economy, The Global Footprint Network, the New Green Economy Conference, and the Move to Amend Campaign, which seeks to undo Corporate Personhood, which is a root cause and concern of the Occupy Movement, it seems. (Check out Annie Leonard's great cartoon-video "The Story of Citizens United." and while you're at it, today is the release of her new short video on US debt.)

Two weeks ago I had a tough call to make. I've been learning for years about Free Trade Agreements and the World Trade Organization and all of the bad that comes from this new globalized system of oppression that starts with wealthy western Multi-national Corporations and our banks and ends with stripping the lands of the globe of it's caring farmers and it's inherant value, dumping waste, and setting up factories everywhere that have no one to hold them accountable to being good to people or the land around them.

My least favorite stories about free trade exploitation come from the region where Taj's grandparents died, in Mexico. Human rights abuses are unending in Oxaca and the Southernmost parts of Mexico, where farmers have lost their ability to grow food for even themselves and their families, and when they unite to fight to get their land back in the way that has always worked before, they are killed with the weapons and mercinary training that come as part of a package deal from agreements made by the World Trade Organization. (The mercinary training part is why I have gone to the SOA Watch vigil in Fort Benning each of the last three Novembers--that's where Mexican soldiers come to get their training, as part of the package.)

I heard that Mexico's former president, Vicente Fox, was coming to the campus where I work, and I was compelled to raise my voice against his message in some way--this is a powerful man who became more powerful when he sold his own people into slavery through his cooperation with the World Trade Organization, and then he had the nerve to come to the place in the Willamette Valley where so many former Mexicans live and work and strive to become citizens because they want so desperately to get away from the effects of Free Trade in their homeland, and here he came, to show our business students about how "prosperous" free trade is, and all that it promises for our future as "united" North Americans. I was just sick whenever I saw the posters with his name and photo on them. And that so few people saw the incredible treatury in his words and actions made me want to shout and keep shouting.

I envisioned a vigil outside the hall where he was to speak. I spoke to a Sociology Professor that was interested in doing a demonstration too, and he said that he'd bring his whole class out in protest. I asked my supervisor what he thought about this idea. Having set up a non-violent demonstration-march on campus last Spring for MLK Junior Day, he liked it at first, but then on furthur consideration, thought it too extreme. He suggested a teach-in instead. I didn't fight him. I thought about how it would be hard for me too if I set up a vigil... I would have to cancel Taj's orthodontist appointment, and I thought about all of the school that she would miss if she didn't get her braces on the Veteran's Day Holiday as we had been scheduled to. I weighed her current struggle with her school work against her grandparents struggle to live, breath and hope, and I backed down.

Last Sunday we went to a new Friends church here in our town, and after the sermon, during the time of open sharing and silence, a man told a story of how God had moved him to act with compassion on a neighbor who had egged his guest's car. He said that he went over and washed the man's own dirty car because he felt that if he stopped listening to God's call to do these kinds of radical things, he might stop hearing them altogether. That was very profound to me. I know, you're thinking that I was feeling bad that I hadn't washed Vicente Fox's car, but really I was wondering if I had ignored God's call on my conscience, and if that would have consequences. And yet I know that God is not one who punishes. I know that if I was intended to start my career as a radical non-violent leader during Vicente Fox's visit to Oregon and chose not to because of two small obstacles, God will still keep working with me. So I'm letting it go.

It has been discouraging for me to be down here in the country when the Occupy movement is going on in Portland, but at the same time, I know that the Occupy movement is not one that I would do well with. I know that I would only be frustrated at the snail's pace of progress toward any kind of united set of goals or solutions that people of so many different backgrounds might really unite around. I know that the movement needs leaders, and I wonder sometimes if I couldn't help in that area, but I have to trust that there's a reason that I moved away right when it was starting up. I know that things like that don't happen randomly and accidentally. So I'm waiting to find some people that I can lead with where I am, and in the meantime I can keep supplying the Occupy movement with food and with prayer. This is hard, but I do feel that it is a call for me from God to be patient and wait for the right time and the right issue, just as I have waited for the right time to plant these trees--I won't let the time pass when it comes, and God won't let me, either.

When I was at the Powershift West conference, someone handed me a small flyer with information about a teach-in there at the U of O. That was encouraging. My supervisor had a good idea. That's something that I can work toward for now. Honestly, I don't think 98% of the studentbody of Western is any more ready to hear about my views on Vicente Fox than 98% of America is ready to run down and camp out in freezing weather as a way of envisioning a more effective democracy together.... probably both groups need to be lovingly educated quite a bit more. Maybe that is my call.

One month now as Mrs. Moss

I like being married very much, so far. I'm getting used to saying that I am Mrs. Moss, or Jimmy's my husband, or saying "my husband likes..." and signing my new name, finally. It is very strange still, though. I'm also getting used to the rhythm of harvest season "down here in the valley" ...a term I heard at a community church in Carlton recently. For the last two weeks there has been a lot of harvesting going on. I know now what grapes look like when they are being hauled from a vineyard to a winery--they are in 3' by 4' plywood boxes which sit, open, on the back of a flat bed truck. Corn is also transported in the open air, as are squashes, though they are sometimes in dump-trucks! I drove behind this truck as it passed through Rickreall one day and I still have no idea what the cargo was--it looks like it's straight out of china--I would guess rice, but rice doesn't grow this far north, I don't think. One sack says "fine," so maybe it's scottish oats? grits?

I'm enjoying the more affordable (and fresher!) produce that I find at road side farm stands out in the country. I've found that the farm stands are wildly varied, and not always fresh, but I'm learning to discern between them. My family is fond of yellow summer squash, mushrooms, cabbage, carrots and broccoli, and some of us like sweet peppers too (me, Taj and Bailey). The farm stand next door to Taj's school is my favorite. They have about ten different kinds of sweet peppers. Here's a photo of their stand, taken in the rain....


I got a Harris Ranch chuck roast from my favorite healthy-ish grocery store in McMinnville today--Harris Ranch is apparently better than Carlton Farms--they are certified organic and grass fed, and Carlton Farms just goes on the honor system, according the deli manager at the store. I still want to go out and see Carlton Farms. They sell direct to the public and I think we could buy in bulk and save a little more. I'm not used to buying (or cooking) meat, but it accounts for 3/4 of the cost of every dinner we make, so I want to find a good value while looking for the best quality. Jimmy is just now wrapping up his final hunting trip today, and we didn't get as much meat this year as he did last year from hunting, so we'll need to buy quite a bit.... I'll let you know how my roast turns out. I made some pretty good Carlton Farms pork chops the other day!

I keep meaning to go to the local library. I've been to the Post Office--a friendly one compared to those I've frequented in Portland and San Francisco. I want to get the book "The Help" which my friend Emily is reading, so that I can read it and see the movie with her before it disappears from theaters. I am not a reader of fiction--not for ten years at least, but the slower pace out here makes me think I might could read a book of fiction, so I will try.

I still feel way more familiar with my work-town than I do my home-town. I think that making friends here in the home-town will help me to get to know it a little better. Last night I tried very hard to find some friends. I went to the college for a fundraiser that we had been invited to--I went all by myself! It was scary... And I made no new local friends at all. The people sitting with me at my table were from Clackamas and Sherwood. Oh well. At least I signed up to volunteer at my favorite kids camp this summer, in lieu of making a donation. The MC of the event was the pastor at the church that Jimmy and I will visit next. He is our age. It's weird to think of having a pastor that is my age or younger. I don't know how I feel about that.

After the unfruitful event last night I was home alone and feeling pretty lonely. Jimmy and the boys are in Sweet Home and Taj was with my mom in Seattle. I wanted to go over to my mother in law's house, but I didn't feel courageous enough after two hours of social anxiety at the college. I decided to listen to a Tim Keller sermon on my phone. That always cheers me up. The sermon I chose was so fitting. It was on Psalm 42: "As the dear pants for the water so my soul longs after thee... I long to worship thee (so why can't I???)" It was about feeling that God is far off. Dr. Keller drew out of the psalm that the writer was away from his community and was also leaning too hard on certain people in his life, and concluded that this is the kind of time that God feels far off... but isn't.

I'm really needing community here, and I'm leaning way hard on Jimmy for everything in terms of friendship and all kinds of other things.... it's good to know that I can't do a lot to change that right away, but that it's normal to feel far from God at such times, and to be reminded that my brain can tell my heart whats true--that God is not so far off. Bless you, Dr. Keller. You cheer me up every time!

Mrs Moss I am

Today is my first day of rest since the wedding. I have been longing for a sabbath!

A week ago Jimmy and I returned from our very blissful wedding trip. We took two nights to enjoy being married, staying out on the gorge, and then I had to get right to work as classes started at Western the day after our wedding. The wedding and the restful days following were so sweet, though we got very little sleep--our little log studio was a few yards from a very busy train line on the Washington side of the Columbia, and the trains would give four shrill blasts on their whistles just as they were passing, about every hour or so, all night the first night. I don't know if I've ever been more tired than I was after the wedding, so the trains were pretty frustrating, but we didn't let them get us down. We were so happy to be married. We were like little children, celebrating with grins, giggles, and cookies for breakfast--we forgot to bring any food with us--only cake and cookies, wine and sparkling cider from the wedding.

This week is the first week that the boys have been with us since we became a family. On their first night, Monday, I wanted to make a special meal to celebrate our family and harvest-time, so for the first time in many years, I made a roast. I had to get copies of the marriage licence at the County Clerk's office in McMinnville, so I stopped in at the sweet "fresh and local" grocery store downtown there, and got an apple and mushroom stuffed pork roast from Carlton Farms. I used Jimmy's meat thermometer which proved to be the best tool ever (I usually slow cook beef roasts, but didn't have time this time). It only took two hours to get to 170 degrees. The boys returned home, drenched from soccer games in the rain, to a warm and hearty meal. I cut up some acorn squash and put in it with the roast instead of potatoes, and it was very tasty. I splurged for some Reeds Ginger Apple Brew, which the boys love, and thawed some como bread from Grand Central Bakery in Portland, which they devoured. Success. I'm not a wicked step mom at all! Whew.

Taj had a couple rainy soccer games this week too. I told Jimmy "I'm sure her game will be cancelled" on Monday. He said "Katie, they don't cancel soccer games for rain." I didn't believe him, but he was right. I got to the private catholic school in Salem where Taj was to play and there were thirty parents, sitting in their camp chairs, each with his and her own umbrella overhead. Disturbing. I sat in the car. A whole new meaning to "soccer mom" has revealed itself and I am resisting still.

My drive through the country has not gotten old yet. I take new routes all the time as I get more familiar with the terrain. I finally started to count the wineries. There are 22 just from home to Taj's bus stop. Probably close to 60 by the time I reach Western. The first two I pass are Duck Pond and Argyle, but most are lesser known ones. I'm not a big fan of Duck Pond any more, since that's where the traffic gets bad on bad traffic days, which seem random other than Friday when everyone is headed to the beach that way from Portland and all its SW burbs.

Yesterday I thought I saw police lights flashing in the corner of my eye as I went through Amity--it turned out to be the red and silver two-sided reflective plastic tape that the arborists use to scare birds away at this time of year when the grapes are getting plump. The sun hit one piece of the stuff and it shone bright as it spun in the wind, and so it looked like a spinning red and white light for a second. My mind still has its urban leanings. ...Yesterday I saw a roadside yard-sign shaped sign that helped me to understand why I've seen so many hot air balloons in the last month. They are a club called the "Yamhill High Flyers". What fun!

My neck and back are a little sore these days--a combination of driving long drives and going out on the Willamette for a long kayak paddle with Jimmy this last Saturday. We bought a second kayak with some of our wedding gift money!

Highlights since my last post were: being with my beloved girlfriends for three solid days before the wedding--having fun in Portland and up the gorge, all the way from Edgefield to Maryhill. Images of the Columbia River, with all kinds of rainy, drizzley and sunny mountain backdrops. Talking with Heather in the pool at Edgefield about Taj and Jimmy and a hopeful future on the night of the rehearsal. Sitting in the candlelight with Em and our glasses of wine at the Chameleon with post traumatic-wedding-planning-and-waxing relief. Walking through a dark and dusty field with my 16 year old niece to her first big concert during a warm and windy lightning storm on the gorge the night before the wedding. Having my other niece rescue me from an awful hairdo right before the wedding. Sitting in a canoe with my brother, with tiny drops of water falling on the lake all around me and my childhood friend's violin playing Pachabel in the distance, and looking up at Jimmy waiting for me in in the wedding tent looking as peaceful as I felt. Being sung to by everyone who I love to be sung to by. Singing to everyone in return, with Dana and Vicki. Waking up with Jimmy. The smell of Dana's macaroons and brownies filling our cabin by the river. Waking up with Jimmy. Waking up with Jimmy. Waking up with Jimmy.....

Fall is here

I think that during the past few days the clouds came around to give the sun a little privacy so that she could change into her most dazzling outfit of all--a golden fall sheath. I rejoice every year when the light changes to gold and the air gets cooler the way they did today. I'm so excited that my wedding will be during this magical week of change.

I think I'm done with my essential planning and prep now. I finished the last big shopping trip today after going to the faculty and staff welcome reception at the college where I work. There are more and more students on campus every day now.

What an emotional time this is. I can barely keep track of all of the feelings that flit by. Sitting in church yesterday I found myself thinking "Wait--did I just remember something that worried me? What was it? I don't think I prayed about it." I'm really glad that I only have to work for two more days, and then I get to spend a couple of days with friends having fun before the wedding. Having fun doesn't require much concentration, and it is exhausting in a much more refreshing way than working at a new job is.

Jimmy may not be in the mood to get married if he doesn't get an elk in the next 24 hours. He hasn't gotten one yet, after a week trying, and he seems a little discouraged. He will be back from hunting just as I'm finishing up my work day on Wednesday probably, so I'll get to see him just before I head back to Portland for my "bachelorette" days.

He may have a little bit of a mess to clean up here at the house after the flurry of sewing and gluing and assembling that I've been up to, but I just ironed his and the boys' outfits for the wedding, so I guess he owes me a favor. His sister and dad moved our old couches away and our new couches in from the garage yesterday, so Jimmy will be surprised to see a snazzy new living room when he arrives. It's been hard to have him away for the past week, but it is sweet to miss each other so much right before the wedding too. I think it is good that he got some extended guy time and a week away to reflect on the coming changes.

I don't know if I'll be able to write much for the next week! This is where things get crazy! Prayers would be very appreciated.

Heart catches up with head a bit

The hot air balloons appeared again yesterday above Newberg! I wonder if they have made their way to Portland by now? Keep an eye out, friends!

Tonight, after finishing the wedding playlists, it started to sink in that I live here in this new house. I'm not just visiting. I've been telling Taj that we live here, with my mouth and my brain since Sunday, but my body and my heart seemed to catch up tonight. My response was a little mixed. I do feel at home here--lots of freedom and ownership (thanks Jimmy). But it is still a little foreign. I feel like a real grown up in this nice, new house. It isn't my usual thrown together or fixed up little apartment or cottage. It is so big that I can turn on the bathtub water, go downstairs to tuck Taj in, and forget about the water, because I can't HEAR it. I'm used to hearing everything. (No, I didn't flood the bathroom--not quite.)

Well, I suppose when you are going to be a newlywed with kids, it is a good thing when everyone can't always hear everyone else. So thank you Lord, for this nice new and spacious house. Thanks for the plants and the flowers that I have warmed it with, and for the good, fresh food that I was able to cook up tonight for the two of us.

Now on to the wedding programme. I am on a roll. Need to keep the momentum. And tomorrow is sewing day. Sewing tablecloths, a veil, a garter, a slip for the flower girl.... Me oh my, as my grandma would say, I have a lot to do!

Pretty things flying in the sky...

This was our great delight on the trip to school yesterday... four hot air balloons hovered close to the horizon over the hay and corn fields. You can only see two in the photo--they were all four very low. I have no idea what a hot air balloon expedition was doing out at quarter to eight on a Monday morning, but it sure did cheer me up. We had missed the bus due to Dundee traffic.

Dundee traffic is the bain of my new life, I must say. Normally we make it past Dundee, to downtown Dayton, where I pass by the old brick church where my dad was interem pastor for a year when I was five. That's where T is supposed to catch her bus. But if we miss it, we go another 15 minutes South. Those balloons were worth an extra 15 minutes!

Taj had her first soccer match yesterday, and to my great surprise, she played half of the game! She has only played soccer for one week now, so I thought she'd be on the bench the whole time. I was very proud of her willing attitude, and impressed with her coach for praising her so much. I hadn't even attended a soccer match before. I got there on time, and parents were trickling in, setting up camp chairs all along the painted line in the grass that designated the side of the playing field. I sat down in my skirt, in the dry grass (luckily it was a thick skirt) and smiled at toddlers who toddled by--they were the only ones at my eye level.

I have been shy around strangers since birth, which many of my friends would never guess, but these social situations with parents and sports are the worst for me. I definitely don't identify with soccer moms. I was so proud of myself for turning and speaking to a parent who came along and sat behind me.... but it didn't turn out very well. She was intesely cheering for her son, who I assumed was a daughter because it sounded like the name "Isa" which I thought I knew from Dora the explorer, and I always thought Isa was a girl.... My first mistake was distracting the woman from her son's moves, and then I assumed out loud that he was a girl. I don't know if she moved to another part of the field to get away from me or the sun, but I'm hoping it was the sun. So I have not really fully met another parent yet, and school is one week in session now. Next time I will bring my sand chair. That will get me a little closer to being at the parents eye level.

They won the match. Now that I know that T gets to play, I guess I'll start inviting family and friends to come watch, but middle school soccer is not really that fun to watch, to be honest. Jazz band concerts are much more interesting. I think the Timbers must be a lot more fun. We'll have to go to a match some time. I wonder if their season is up?

Today I made my first trip to the Farmer's Market that just started up about six blocks from our house. We got: three summer squash, a bunch of spinach, four apples, three dahlias and the last little green pint of orange cherry tomatoes. So yummy! All for about five bucks! Portland can't beat that!

Speaking of pretty things in the sky, I was sad to have to turn down an invitation to see the swifts in Portland tomorrow night. I've not yet done so many things in Portland, after so many years. Maybe next year. For now, I have one week and one day to organize and sew things in preparation for my wedding. I'm excited to see it all come together. And I think it will, even though one of my helpers had to leave the country suddenly yesterday to see her mother in law, who is ill.

Final good news of the day: I am thrilled to hear from my friend Ami in Dallas that she has a friend who is a musician and a gardener who lives in my new town!!! So thrilled. I have a feeling that any friend of Ami's is bound to be a friend of mine, if she has time for a new friend. This is really good news. The only friend I have here right now is soon to move away, unless you count the pastor who is doing our pre-marital counseling and my future mother in law, who really are friend-like, thankfully.

Wedding Guilt and a Quaker Church

Today is two weeks to my wedding. Weddings always come with guilt I think... even if you elope. We tried to elope, but that would have been so full of guilt, we couldn't even entertain the thought. We would have taken a few people with us even. And now we're having a wedding that seems huge to me--a hundred people! ...but there are so many people that I haven't invited. That makes me feel guilt.

Happily, I found a church today where I feel at home. That is so nice, and so good for my guilt. My sweetie left to go hunting for ten days early this morning, and I was watching his boy while my mom watched my girl, and so me and his boy, Bailey, who is nine, went to this new church where I've been going for pre-marital counseling. I'd been there for church twice before, but I didn't really get to know anyone or speak to any people before. Today Bailey and I spoke to many people, and it felt natural and easy. Having a kid with you helps a lot if you want to try to get to know people. Kids are so much easier for strangers to talk to, I think. They sang a song about peace, and the woman who does our counseling was the speaker--she talked about John the Baptist a little, and then the congregants kind of took the sermon and made it deeper and richer with their contributions--a Quaker thing. Quakers get to chime in on sermons, after a brief period of quiet. They were very insightful people. I've considered myself Quaker for a while now, but never had found a church that felt like home. So today was a very good day.

Yesterday was a good day too. It was my bridal shower day. The first gift I opened was beautiful--it was a bird feeder gazebo made by Amishfolk. So fitting for my new country life. And since we're talking about Amish and Quakerfolk, I should say that my cashier at the Grocery Outlet today had a scarf over her head that made her look Mennonite. She wasn't. She was a Messianic Jew--my other favorite denomination. We were still talking when she was done ringing the next guy. Only in the country does THAT happen.

Finally, a good thing to note about today is that I am in my future husband's bed and about to go to sleep here now all by myself. Feels weird, but since I gave my own bed to Catholic Charities over a week ago, it is nice to belong in a bed again.