may be
How are you feeling?
I haven't had a great week. The sleep thing really got to me and on Monday when I couldn't handle it any more and went to see a doctor and she asked me how I was feeling, I told her I felt broken. My body wasn't doing what it was meant to do, my brain felt full of mush, my emotions were turned all the way up to 11, and I didn't trust my responses, I couldn't remember words, I felt off balance and teary and cold.
I didn't cry to the doctor which surprised me, we chatted for a while, we made a plan for the next few weeks and I left with a prescription for melatonin that I promised to persevere with for at least a week.
For the first three nights nothing changed. I lay in bed all night in a tangle of bed sheets, headphone cords, podcasts and meditations and tried not to let thoughts of all that I wanted to accomplish the next day sit in my stomach. I lay there. And lay there. And lay there. Staring out into the darkness listening to the sounds of the forest at night.
Late yesterday
my friend Kate suggested I mix drops of frankincense and lavender essential oils with some fractionated coconut oil in a roll-on bottle and before bed apply some to the back of my neck and the soles of my feet. Just before bedtime last night I made up my potion and remembered how
Tara Westover in her book Educated described passing her mother's homeopathic remedies through a circle she made with her thumb and forefinger 100 times to activate their healing potentials. So just for fun I did the same. Then I visited each of the four members of my family in their beds and applied it to their feet and necks and then I did my own. (Actually that's not quite true - one member wouldn't let me near her with the oil despite my pleading).
Last night I fell asleep at midnight and this morning I woke up at 6am!! That's the longest I've slept for all in one go for months. Today I feel relieved and happy and a little bit giggly. The sun is shining and the world feels full of possibilities. Obviously I'm not confident that one good night's sleep is the end to my problems, but at least I do know that it's possible. And who knows why last night was finally the night, all I can tell you is I'll be applying my magic oil again at bedtime tonight, that's for sure.
Let's get back to the photo-a-day, okay.
may nineteen
Last Saturday we fired up the splitter and made a huge pile of firewood. At this stage we still haven't decided where to stack it neatly to cure for the next few years, but I'm tempted to borrow
Norwegian Wood: Chopping, Stacking and Drying Wood the Scandinavian Way by Lars Mytting from the library again and to learn how to make some fancy stacks.
may 20
On Sunday, feeling particularly awful, I went for a long walk around the farm in the rain trying to find the beauty. These echinacea that I planted from seed so many months ago are only just starting to flower now despite the low temperatures and lack of sunlight. They feel particularly precious blossoming long after almost everything else has finished.
may twenty first
I feel like I take a lot of photos from inside looking out. Here are some out looking in. Stripey tee-shirts, chrysanthemums, potted colour.
may twenty second
The very last of our dahlias.
And the coriander that I am desperate to pull out so I can replant the bed but I'll need to collect the seed before I do, so I haven't.
may twenty third
On Wednesday the ceiling went up in my studio and the boys made a start on the roof. I hid inside only popping out at the end to admire their work and take photos. Watching them with their power-tools up those ladders was a bit much for me. But how pretty does it look up on the bank, nestled in amongst the trees.
Bren's sitting next to me as I type this explaining the process they went through yesterday to finish the roof. He's using words like rafters, ceiling, battens, insulation, sisalation, roofing and ridge capping. I feel grateful that he's fascinated by the process and I'm pretty confident that if I took the time and listened then I'd find it interesting too, but it's enough for me that it's pretty, that it'll keep me dry and warm and protected, and that it fits into its surroundings. Late last year we pulled the car-port that sat in front of our house down. I really, really love the fact that they used the rafters, the tin and even the screws from that car-port for my studio roof. That car-port roof travelled 10 meters to the east where it shall sit above and shelter the prettiest little studio for ever more.
Yesterday I pulled the very last of the tomatoes out and planted garlic in behind them.
I love how the view changes seasonally. A whole bed of cherry tomatoes on tall trellises stood in front of the greenhouse for the past six months, it's lovely to be able to see inside again.
may twenty five
I never ever thought I would post photos of a roof to my blog and tell you how much I love it and how happy it's making me, but here you go. Big wide hardwood offcuts that became dark stained ceiling boards. Rafters that came out of a factory in Sydney, went into a building at Docklands studio in Melbourne and now are on their third use in my studio roof.
I imagine I'll spend many an hour gazing upwards, tracing the lines with my eyes, smiling at accidental hand prints and remembering the process it took to design and construct it.
And my Merricks shawl. I think I'm probably two thirds of the way around the edging. Hopefully I'll have some finished photos for you next week.
And that my friends is that. The roller coaster of one week of my life. And that's not even telling the story of the grumpy teenagers and the tears on the way to the compost heap.
I'm grateful for all of the wonderful sleep remedies and suggestions you've been sending me.
I hope you've been sleeping well.
I hope I haven't put you off with the roof photos.
I hope you know how much I appreciate your visits and your comments.
I'm wondering if I should continue this photo diary format for another month.
What do you think?
What have you been up to?
What can you tell me?
Got to go and make soup.
Love y'as!
Kate x