2023: Feeling Our Way into the New Year

This past Thursday, we returned to our long-standing weekly Thursday evening Community Dinners, BUT: During our “circle-up” time, just before Jeff agreed to offer a prayer, we needed to tell everyone present (about a dozen altogether, including two who have never been here before) that we are going to shift from weekly to bi-weekly for the near future. That means first and third Thursdays of each month. (If you are on the Dinner List, you will get a notice every Tuesday about what week it is!)

We had stopped our Dinners in December, given that a few people here were ill for awhile, and most were otherwise preoccupied with family, in one way or another during the annual Holiday Season that coincides with the darkest time of year in the northern hemisphere. Keep that light shining, no matter what!

Even when you’re down in the dim basement, scrounging around, trying to figure out what should go and what should stay; sending the first pile to Goodwill (two carloads worth so far), and then organizing what remains, section by section. Here’s the first section we organized, at last Tuesday’s work party, mostly the art supplies. So many, still! We’re thinking about getting some of them to grade school teachers. 

Then during yesterday’s work party, we went at it again, organizing a different section and unloading a huge number of oddly shaped vases, plus boxes of psychology books given to us by a neighbor that somebody here, a few years ago, wanted to offer for sale . . .

Imagine: I’ve been here in Bloomington for 20 years now. And starting a few years after I arrived, others began to arrive, first for this house, then for the second house, and finally for the third house — staying from one week (very rare), six months, one year, two years, three years, five years, up to ten years (only one, so far). Probably 45 very unique individuals altogether have cycled through here, most of them storing some of their stuff in the basement.

AND: There’s only one basement . . . So we clear and reorganize it, either every year or every other year, hauling lots of stuff up, out, and away.

Meanwhile, if you have moved in, and need a different chair, or another lamp, or desk, rugs (large or small) —or pens, tape, an electrical cord, etc. etc., “check the basement.” What you need is usually there.

The two new people who came to Thursday dinner were both associated with IU graduate school, in cognitive science. I forgot to ask Ningyao how she had gotten on the Dinner List. She emailed to ask if she could come and also invite Ben, whose house she currently resides in. Yes. They have been realizing that they need to begin to plan for whatever’s comin’ down; and that means grow food and know your neighbors. YES!

These two are standing at the top of this photo, having walked in the door a few minutes earlier. They still looked somewhat befuddled, when my ipad camera happened to notice them.

However, by the end of the evening, they both asked if they could join our work parties. Sure! Come next Tuesday, because we’re going to try to finish work in the basement on Saturday, and that’s not going to teach you about gardening! On Tuesday, we will begin the next growing season by cleaning the greenhouse walls and shelves. Come then.

Marita and I then decided it’s time to create a new group me list, besides the one we have for residents (plus Dan, who lived here for five years, lends his truck, and and still joins us on occasion. He’s the one sitting with high top tennis shoe showing.).

So Marita got right on it, that very night, and added Ningyao and Ben. Good!

One of the folks at the Dinner had an announcement to make: her intentional community, she said, (which she started about a year ago, when she bought a house and land) “has failed.” One of the three people, she said, will have to move out. She was clearly upset by the situation, and appreciated both our concern and our advice, to “treat it as a learning experience” — and keep going, Find someone else.

Yes, it’s not easy to live together! But . . . that’s why we’re here on this planet as embodied souls, to learn how! By interacting with others, we learn about ourselves. Each time there is tension, there is also mutual projection. Which can result in conflict. Solution? Take back projections. Recognize them as denied aspects of yourself! In other words, each of us needs to learn how to do what Jung called “shadow work.” 

A couple who live a few hours from here, on the Ohio/Indiana border, contacted us last week, also wanting to come to a Dinner. They have been talking about their need to move to a place where they can do the same thing that Ningyao and Ben also recognize. In other words, awareness is rising, folks. We need to get together, stick together, and learn to collaborate with both each other and our dear Mother Earth.

Thursday’s Dinner contained a plethora of goodies, that all just happened to compliment (or is it complement?) each other —including Ben’s wonderful Indian dish with cabbage and peas.

So many goodies, that I almost forgot to get the main dish (a large meatloaf made with pork) out of the oven! Luckily, Marita reminded me. 

State of the Village, End of 2022

This past year, 2022, has felt like one looooong holding period. Which forced me to choose: either I could be chronically furious, frustrated, or I could let go and allow what needed to happen.

Lots of plans, but due to various injuries, chronic delay.

To give the most dramatic example: our new 12 foot yurt, which arrived in early April, still sits on my front porch. We were excited! Thought it would be up in the backyard by June, for WOOFERS and guests’ use three seasons of each year.

It’s presence on the porch makes it impossible to use that area otherwise . . .

What held up the yurt? The platform, which even now, sits only partially done.

Here’s the lumber to finish it.

And it’s not just the yurt. Son Colin Cudmore has a long list of projects to tackle. Then, last December, he began to endure the year from hell: first his back went out, then his shoulder, and finally his knee, which is just now, after months, getting to the point where he actually plans to walk for an entire mile today.

Oddly enough, his dog Kona broke his leg at about the same time as Colin’s knee went out. They’ve been invalids together, and are, together, beginning to return to life.

Meanwhile, though our major projects lie unfinished, our seasonal cycling — planting, growing, harvesting — went on without interruption, yielding wonderful results. Grateful.

Oh, and Colin plans to finish the yurt platform starting Tuesday, assuming all goes well.

WORK PARTY OPS: Organize, Re-Organize, Plan to Organize . . .

During yesterday’s work party (we’ve rescheduled from Friday to Saturday, so that Marita’s 14-year-old son can be here to join us) we put all the rest of the beds, save one, to bed for the winter. That felt good.

Next Tuesday, we plan to tackle the large greenhouse, clean and re-organize, and otherwise, it can lie fallow for the rest of December, except for one more work party in there, likely with a fire heating the place up, when we clean and oil tools.

We begin again in January 2023.

Meanwhile, last Tuesday, we tackled one of the sheds, taking everything out, deciding what remained, what went with what, and what should go elsewhere. Of course, finding some stuff we forgot we had, and other stuff that we could have used this year, if we had known where it was.

Here’s Adam, of the three who decided this simply had to be done.

Meanwhile, we’d decided to utilize a bare outside wall for the whiteboards we just started to keep (what needs to be done, wished for projects, etc. etc.) that help us make sense of this place in which every resident is also busy with life elsewhere, and must, at times be corralled — or at least asked if he’s gonna do something, or if he already did it, etc. 

Joseph has the whiteboards stacked against one wall in his house, but this way, they’ll be obvious to everyone. We thought to put them somewhere in the greenhouse, but there’s no empty wall space.

Notice, in these two photos, all the bikes and bike parts. All but two are extra, here from former residents. Luckily, we can borrow neighbor Dave’s truck, to get them to the Bike Project. 

Meanwhile, we DID get that shed tamed, with containers for ropes, gloves, hats, eye gear, and other stuff. 

Which reminds me of my most profound remark in all my nearly 80 years, and that is this: “WHAT WE’RE DOING ON THIS PLANET IS MOVIN’ STUFF AROUND.”

Thursday Community Dinner was inside again, at Overhill. We’re thrilled to see both Jeff (back to camera) and Alisha (who he’s speaking to) again.

Jeff has just returned after eight weeks during which he teaches martial arts to teenagers on Thursday nights. He always brings amazing meat dishes. This time: spicy meat balls to die for. 

Alisha has just returned after three weeks, during which first one, and then, another, and finally the third member of her household all came down with covid. She never fails to bring amazing ales (different types) from the Tax Man Brewing Co.

That’s neighbor Devin, brown and yellow sweater, in both photos. He helps us with trees, sometimes trimming or cutting himself, other times teaching us how. 

I only took one more photo, but it’s a doozer, Dan the Man, smiling. 

P.S. Dan figured out why I couldn’t transfer photos from iphone to computer, or at least I thought he did. But when I went to do it this morning, so I could add the real beaver scene to last Sunday’s beaver post, I still couldn’t figure it out . . .

And now, I see that I can’t get to that post by searching for it by name . . . one more item to add to the list when I contact 24x7wpsupport tomorrow . . .