I had hoped to post this last night, but the evening just seemed to get away from me. My plan is to follow along with Heather and Amanda, and post a garden update each Thursday. Coincidentally, their blogs are among the first I began reading so long ago as I became aware of this slower lifestyle, and I still visit almost daily. Their writing and overall presence are incredibly calming, and I so admire the lives they’re building for themselves and their families. Take a look, if you don’t already follow them.

When we decided to pull the plug on Baltimore, whether the house had sold or not, I was so excited that we would arrive in Maine with time yet to get a garden in. I was hopeful that I would be able to plant directly in the ground, but that wasn’t meant to be in this yard. The earth is packed down hard, and seems to be of pretty poor quality.

Enter my “Handsome Fixer Man,” as Swee and I have taken to calling J. With his beloved Makita, and some salvaged lumber from our new basement, Memorial Day weekend ended with a new raised bed knocked together in the front yard, and a second plot staked out for later construction. I would much prefer to smother existing vegetation with cardboard and mulch, but in this case, I really wanted to get things moving and instead chose to turn the earth inside the box, sifting out the grass clumps. Sadly, I didn’t see a single worm.

During the nine months J lived up here without us, he got to be quite close with his roommate’s family. Jason’s mom, Ms. Linda, took him under her wing and watched out for him, and we are so fortunate to have their family close by. One unexpected perk of the relationship is an unlimited supply of horse manure. We were able to take the truck over and fill the bed with rich, black compost from a hill that’s been mellowing for several years (I was pleased to see that we even relocated some worms to our yard). Their little homestead is a fun place to visit. Swee called out to each horse by name as we bumped up the drive, and was just tickled when the chickens bobbed over to check her out.

I’m thrilled to have some veggies in the ground. I found the tomato and pepper seedlings at the grocery store, and at only $2.49 for each four-pack, I couldn’t pass them up. Two rows of carrots were direct seeded in the raised bed, while lettuce and arugula are planted in an adjacent box. The peas and onion seeds came from one of J’s coworkers, and are also in the raised bed. I decided to border the frame with zinnias, and am really looking forward to having them for cutting. The way the sun rises over the lake in front of us and then arcs over to the back of the house keeps this area of the yard in full-sun for most of the day. I’ll have to watch the moisture to make sure the soil doesn’t dry out.

I definitely want to get the second bed built this week, and have a lot more to plant. My mother-in-law is sending me her leftover seeds – zucchini and squash – so I need somewhere to put them. It’s a small start, but it’s a start. I’m looking forward to watching it all grow!

Our well water is drinkable.

I’m not sure that the word relieved accurately describes how I’m feeling after Friday morning’s tests. Believing that we were unable to use our tap water for more than dishes and laundry was a major source of my stress over the last few weeks. When J and his best friend moved into this house last September, it was with the understanding that the arsenic levels were high enough as to make the well unusable. They’ve been buying bottled water for nine months. Nine months. That’s a lot of bottled water.

With two very small children, I knew we couldn’t risk the well water having contaminants. Their little systems wouldn’t be able to handle it. However the idea of bottled water doesn’t sit well with me, both for the environmental implications, and the cost. We drink a lot of water, me in particular. We went through eight gallon jugs and two cases of individual bottles in the first ten days. Plus a fair bit of seltzer.

We debated buying a DIY testing kit, just to get an idea of what we were up against, but then I saw an ad in the Advertiser, one of those freebie community newspapers that comes with the mail, for free water testing. No obligation. You can’t beat free.

Steve from Aerus came this past Friday morning and spent about an hour in our kitchen, testing our water and explaining things to us. I didn’t take any photos, and it was a little bit of information overload, but the basic gist is that our water is fine. Hard, but fine. The arsenic levels are below a 5, on whatever scale is used, and that puts them below the safe level set by the state. Our TDI level is at 103, most likely because the water is hard and is corroding the older pipes, but no harmful substances are present to prevent us from using the tap water normally.

So I am no longer stressing about first world problems like boiling pasta, or making coffee, or freezing ice cubes. This whole experience really opens up some internal conversation about what it would be like to not have access to water, or to have to lug buckets and jugs for miles in order to bathe or cook. Even if the well had been undrinkable, I could still shower and wash dishes with it. Or wash the clothes in the washing machine I was previously complaining about.

Still. I am profoundly grateful for clean water.

– The iris are blooming, and the lupine too. When we first visited Maine almost six years ago, it was in early June, and the lupine were blooming everywhere. Where I grew up in Pennsylvania, it’s tiger lilies that border the roads and streams. Somehow the rich purple lupine seemed like a much more romantic wildflower than tiger lilies, but I kind of miss the flashes of orange now.

– Black flies. How did I not know about the black flies before we moved here? They’re positively dreadful. Unless there’s a stiff and constant breeze, we have not been able to go outside. My girls have nickel-sized welts along their hairlines and behind their ears from the bites. After just a few minutes in the yard, I’m wiping away blood and hustling them inside. I attempted a homemade bug spray, and while the flies don’t seem to care for it, it doesn’t stop them from swarming you, and any unprotected inch of skin gets bitten anyway. I think we will have to wait them out, indoors. (Spray: 1/4C each water and witch hazel; 20 drops each tea tree and citronella; 10 drops rosemary; a couple drops eucalyptus to temper the citronella)

– We celebrated a first birthday yesterday. Baby Bean is walking everywhere, and devoured her very first cupcake. I copped out and used a boxed mix, but whipped up some homemade buttercream icing. Swee was mistress of the sprinkles. It was a lovely day, with that perfect stiff breeze to banish the black flies. We walked over to the lake and went wading. Beansie floated around and splashed. She went to bed tired and happy, and J and I were able to sit outside for a drink.

Tomorrow: water testing report!

J is a veteran, and the week leading up to Memorial Day always weighs a little more in our house. Ike and Kenny gave their lives during J’s second deployment, just three days apart, and while the mood is a little more somber, we try to fully live this weekend of remembrance in their honor.

We spent time as a family – grocery shopping together, mowing the lawn, building a raised garden bed, cooking and enjoying meals together.

We also spent time in our new community. It was a fun little parade, though a bit different than some. The announcement in the paper said that anyone who wanted to participate could just show up at the starting point. There were decorated four-wheelers and huge farm tractors along with your typical Boy and Girl Scout troops. No marching bands, but plenty of candy tossed to the kids.

Everyone congregated at the town beach following the parade for food, music, and swimming. I had a lovely slice of strawberry rhubarb pie from Hello, Good Pie, and Beans helped me enjoy it.

This duo set up near the picnic table and burst into bluegrass, which Beansie just loved!

We didn’t stay too long since little moods began to deteriorate, but it was so nice to be out among friendly faces!

– J’s coworker sent him home with a dozen eggs from her chickens. Such a treat! They were enormous, and the yolks were big and vibrant. We finished all twelve this weekend, and can’t wait til we have our own flock.

– We spent most of the weekend exploring our new yard. The homeowner we’re renting from seems to have been an avid gardener, and there are mature plants tucked into every corner of the yard. I’ve spotted hydrangea and poppies, and there’s an iris that’s about to bloom. Wild violets carpet one section of the front yard. I’m not familiar with these white flowers however – they line the neighbor’s driveway on our side. Does anyone know what they are?

– J dragged this beautiful glider out of the brambles. It needs some attention, but we might be able to have it working again. Wouldn’t it be a nice place to sit and watch the lake?

– Several loads of laundry dried on the line. We have such a wonderful breeze off the water. It’s only long enough for one load at a time, and the pulley system is taking some getting used to, but it’s so nice to sleep in sun-dried sheets! I’ve already noticed many houses with clotheslines in use, which I never saw in our old neighborhood.

Hope you all had a lovely weekend as well!

The sun is out today, and we’re all feeling a little more positive. It is still far quieter in this little village than I thought possible, but I think that means I need to learn to quiet myself and my thoughts, and just focus on shaping our life into the one we’ve imagined.

Mother Nature in Maine is about a month behind where she was in Maryland. The lilacs here are just blooming, and there are still some daffodils left. There’s something sweet about experiencing spring twice in one year. We brought some inside to enjoy. The green glass vase is a gift from my Pup, and the salt and pepper shakers belonged to J’s gram. The homeowner left oodles of books here, and I’ve decided to page through them one at a time. Last night was Salads (The Good Cook) in preparation for the fresh greens we will soon have. J’s coworkers brought seeds in to share, and he brought some home for me to plant.

My kitchen is slowly coming together. I’ve packed away my Blue Danube and basic white Crate and Barrel dishes in favor of the Corelle my family used growing up. I felt that they would be easier for Swee and her almost-three-year-old hands to manage, and they are less likely to shatter when dropped.

The front room in this house has amazing light, and I’ve been able to create a space of my own there. I had some company this morning, and think it will be one of our favorite places to spend time. Tomorrow, we are going to venture into Farmington for preschool Story Hour. The map looks like it’s more of a town than Mount Vernon, so I’m interested to see what is there.

 

I’m a little overwhelmed. And to be truthful, even that’s an understatement.

I have lived my entire life on a public water system, in areas that have streetlights and sidewalks and your choice of three or four grocery stores within a ten minute drive. I now find myself in a town with no stoplight, half an hour away from a shopping center. We have a well whose water we’re not sure we can drink (more on that another day). There is no trash or recycling pickup. I left my LG digital front-loading washer and dryer in Baltimore and am now using a standard washer in my kitchen. The dryer? Three rooms away in what my husband refers to as “The Shop.” When we sat in the yard the other night, all we could hear were peepers and birds, not even the hum of highway traffic. That freaked me out.

Yes, this is what we wanted. It was a conscious decision to simplify like this. But holy moly, I didn’t anticipate the adjustment to be quite so rough, especially since we’re still just dipping our toes in the shallow end.

I haven’t left the house alone yet, except to walk about the new neighborhood. My first excursion took me down the driveway and across the street to the country store for coffee before I found my own coffeemaker amid the boxes. With one baby strapped to my chest, and the other firmly in hand, I set my Styrofoam cup on the counter to pay. The girl at the register immediately smiled and said, “Are you J’s wife? I’m so glad you’re finally here! He’s really missed you guys. Oh wow! She looks just like him!” Small town.

Tuesday morning, I walked to the post office in the rain. We don’t have a mailbox yet since there’s some confusion as to where it should be placed, so they hold our mail in a bin for us. The post office is a cute little place, with a community bulletin board in the lobby.

I’m hoping to check out the community center later this week. It’s housed in an old green and white church, right next to the town beach. I’m not sure what kinds of activities they hold besides a Tuesday morning breakfast advertised on their sign.

I’ve been longing for a simpler life almost since we moved to Baltimore eight years ago, right around the time that I discovered these wonderful things called blogs – little windows into other lives, other options for living. I wondered then if I was just looking for a way out, since I didn’t seem to have any real professional ambition. I worked hard enough to do well, to promote, but it never seemed to get me what I wanted, though I couldn’t have put into words then what that really was. The people around me, the friends from college, the new connections we made in the city – they all seemed to have this drive to achieve the next big thing, position, idea – and I didn’t know where to find that feeling. It certainly wasn’t finding me.

And so while I worked and waited and stressed and tried, I learned. I devoured everything I could find about people living the life I so desperately wanted for my own. I spent eight years reading about other people living my dream, spent hours poring over seed catalogs I never ordered from. Hours surfing Pinterest for patterns and hording fabric for clothing I never sat down to sew.

In ten days, I’m doing it. I’m packing what things have survived multiple purges. I am putting my children in the car. I’m moving 500 miles from everywhere I’ve ever known to follow my own brand of ambition, and kicking others’ ambitions to the curb because I’ve finally realized that having a different dream from everyone around you doesn’t make you wrong.

In ten days, my family is reuniting in Maine to set out on our own little journey. I am excited and terrified, and I feel so lost for where to start. Dreaming is so very different than doing, but I have to stop chasing that elusive sense of professional ambition. It doesn’t exist for me in that form. I never felt that drive because I wasn’t supposed to.

Does the world need yet another blog about simple living? The story of the city girl taking her master’s and “throwing it all away” to plant potatoes and knit dishcloths – is it spun out? I hope not, because I still need to write it. And I’m going to hazard a guess that there are still people who will read it, because for all the multitude of stories I’ve read, I still don’t know anyone personally who has actually gone out and done it.

So here we go. Ten days. We’re doing it.