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Laura Bruno – “I Remember That House” – 10 April 2013

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Laura Bruno – “I Remember That House” – 10 April 2013

Posted on April 10, 2013 by lucas2012infos | Leave a comment

it’s gardening time again — our first year cultivating this wild yard
that used to be a spooky urban forest before our landlord, Larry,
gut-rehabbed our house. “I remember that house” is the refrain we hear
from people around town whenever David and I mention gardening and tell
them where we live.

To put things in perspective, David’s dad is, among other things, a
professional photographer and lecturer, and he has a slideshow all about
Appalachia. He knows our landlord, and … true story … before we rented
this place, David’s dad used to stop by and tease Larry late at night as
he worked on this impossible project of meticulously restoring a
“stripped beyond the studs” old house. The contractors in town used to
tease Larry, too, asking him why he didn’t simply tear down the property
and start from scratch.

As a little mischievous wink, David’s dad photographed the ongoing
project and included the slides in his Appalachia slideshow. Between all
the overgrown trees pushing up against the house and its ramshackle
nature, you really can’t tell the difference between this house and an
Appalachia original until much later in the process. All this time,
David’s dad had no idea he was chronicling and visiting what would
become our new home. At that point, he didn’t even know we were secretly
discussing a move to Goshen in order to support David’s parents.

When we finally decided to move here sooner rather than later, David
made some synchronous connections with Goshen locals who just happened
to fly on his international American Airlines flights. Last August, we
visited two of these people, and they asked, “When the heck are you
moving here, already?” To which I replied, “Well, you see, our house
isn’t ready quite yet. I’ve made a list on my iPhone, and I’m sending my
little energy scouts around town to locate the land and manifest the
house to specs. One day, you’ll hear we moved to town and you’ll look at
that house and be like, ‘What!? That house wasn’t there before.’ And
then you’ll know … that’s our house.” I winked and giggled, but David
let them know, “She’s really not joking. That’s how she works.”

Sure enough, a few weeks later, on what had become a biweekly,
synchronous trek from Madison, WI to Goshen, IN, David and I consulted
with Larry to see if he knew of any local properties that fit my iPhone
list. We weren’t expecting to rent from him, but David’s dad let us know
that Larry’s the guy who knows eco properties in town. When I mentioned
the yard, Larry said, “Well, I have a property you can garden.
It’s got a big sunny yard, and the house isn’t finished yet, but it
will be ready by October. I have to warn you, though, the yard is wild.
Since David and I wild forage, and I love faeries, elves and Nature
Spirits, the wildness appealed to us. Larry said, “I guarantee, anything
you do to the yard will be an improvement.” He gave us pretty much
carte blanche to plant fruit trees and build a little permaculture
haven. Tempting.

Soooo, we looked at the unfinished house and tried to imagine it
complete. It embodied about 95% of my list, with the 5% being a major
nudge from the Universe to stop fixating on things I didn’t want.
Goshen’s got trains running and whistling all through town, and I was
terrified that I’d never get a good night’s sleep again, no matter where
we lived in Goshen. I had spent hours walking around Goshen
neighborhoods trying to locate a sunny yard at just the right distance
between two train lines so that I’d hear minimal whistling. No go.
Everywhere I went in Goshen, I heard the trains. This house, this
perfectly old-character, brand new house on sunny land filled with faery
portals is very close to the train line. I had to laugh, since the
Universe does tend to give me those lessons — “Stop being so serious.
Stop limiting yourself thinking you can’t handle this or that. We will
show you that you can handle those things and turn them to advantage.”

In the end, we loved the house, and it had arrived so synchronously,
met my “prophecy” about it being built to spec as we spoke, and worked
so well with our desire to be within walking distance of David’s parents
and downtown, as well as having a yard we could turn into an
urban food forest/edible landscape, that we decided to rent it, knowing
full well I’d have my work cut out for me come Spring. I asked David to
do some hypnotherapy on me to make me OK with the train noise, and my
higher Self suggested that the whistle be heard as a message: “The
Universe loves you.” Every time a train goes by, I feel showered with
love … and the train has never interfered with our sleep, since the
house is very well insulated. In fact, I used to wake up with the
whistles when we stayed at David’s parents’ home, which is much further
away from the line, but in our place, I don’t even stir. The only thing I
notice is that my dream life has returned to its fabulously creative
and active state that the upstairs antique elevator pully inspired when I lived in Chicago.

We took three loads to move in here, and one of David’s old college
friends graciously organized gangs of people to move us in each load.
They’d all arrive saying, “I remember this house” and marvel at the new
construction that truly honors the old. When we returned our first
U-Haul truck, we happened to pull up next to one of the contractors, who
somehow figured out which house we moved into. He told us the
insulation was about a foot thick. “Yep. I remember that house,” he
said, shaking his head and having a little chuckle. “It turned out well,
but I gotta tell ya … when we got down to those studs and had to go
further, we really thought he was crazy to keep going.” We’ve since met
people at the Farmer’s Market who said, “I remember that house. You know
what? I was actually in that house once, before Larry bought it. Wow. He did a great job. It took a lot of vision to carry that through.”

I know we have faery portals on this land, because I’ve felt them
myself. Even more, a friend I’d lost touch with heard we had moved to
this property, tuned in and informed my friend Tim
that there are “tons of faery portals on that land.” Uh-huh. The
faeries, elves and Nature Spirits were depressed at the destruction of
their wild woodland, the bane of neighbors and property values, but
their home nonetheless. I know that’s why we felt so called to move
here. Since I’ve come out in the yard this Spring, they’ve gotten
active, nursing crocuses to life in unexpected spots, showing me rich,
crumbly soil and wild violets. Last week, while walking in the woods, I
told the faeries some of my plans for the yard and asked for their
cooperation in bringing these about. In particular, I mentioned wood
mulch: “Seriously, I don’t want to work hard for this. Just bring it to
me, OK? Lots and lots of wood mulch. I really don’t even want to make
phone calls. I just want it in the yard, pronto. There are lots of paths
to make and the mulch will protect the plants from drought.”

On my way home, I reminded the faeries of my request, saying I was
acting in good faith as a guardian of this land. Within thirty seconds, a
tree pruning truck barreled towards me. I blinked then laughed and
flagged them down. Not only could they drop mulch at our house the next
morning, but when I finished walking home, the mulch truck was already
waiting for me, scoping out the delivery sight. “I remember that house!”
said the driver. “We did a lot of work here last year.” The next day, I got 7000 pounds of mulch dropped in front.

Our next door neighbors started climbing this mountain of mulch and
asked what the heck I intended to do with it, When they learned I
planned to use it for gardening and saw me making paths all week, the
children in their family decided to grow a garden, too. They’ve now got
pots on their porch to grow fresh salsa ingredients and vegetables. They
tell me it’s their first garden, and I could hear the faeries giggle
their approval. I’ve also got volunteers from around town — people
intensely curious about how to transform a weedy, stump filled yard into
something beautiful and productive. I’ll be manifesting more mulch and a
nice “pile of shit,” soon, too.
Yep, composted manure. I’ve been eying it on the Amish farms and subtly
sourcing duck poop in seemingly casual conversation. LOL, I have become
the scavenger of discarded things … all the “waste” that enriches soil
and enhances life.

As I grow this yard and love it into being, I’m conscious of the
parallel between Larry growing and loving our home into being, despite
it looking like a terribly hopeless, even laughable mess. It reminds me
of my painted portal doors,
which were discarded, filthy specimens, lovingly cleaned and painted
into powerful portals that now pass for beautiful “decorations.”

(Already Substantially Cleaned) Before Picture of the Four of Wands/Karuna Door

It also reminds me of our world today … kind of a microcosmic
approach to the sometimes overwhelming issues of our time. Yes, there
are some truly ugly, ramshackle, rundown, crumbling structures crying
out for rebirth and rejuvenation. Banking, toxic air, water and land,
runaway corporations, drones and fascist governments. Without
visionaries, all these structures would self destruct or crumble into
rotting eyesores, or perhaps be replaced by some kind of cookie cutter,
soulless creation, strip mall, One World cashless banking system, FEMA
camp, or, Goddess forbid … a lawn (known by Michael Pollan as “Nature under totalitarian rule”).

Without visionaries to imagine and create the New, our world is
simply dying, plunging into ugliness and chaos, bereft of structure and,
if not downright horrifying, then at least depressing. Yes, it takes
vision, imagination, love and dedication to bring the New into being,
but in my opinion, it’s worth the effort. Our home and lawn have become
an inspiration to others, even before we complete the transformation.
Larry held the vision for the house … then we claimed it and made it our
own … and now the Faery Realm gets major say in how we work with Nature for our mutual benefit.

In case you haven’t noticed, we are currently gut-rehabbing and replanting our entire world. Change is
happening, sometimes on the hyperlocal level. Sometimes in your own
town or even your own backyard! If you feel discouraged by the state of
our world, look for the beauty in discarded things. Become the
visionary; embody the artist. Old junk can become shabby chic,
whimsically innovative, or simply inspired. Like it or not, we’ve
inherited this crumbling 3D world. Like it or not, we live in a world
that grows according to our thoughts, love, imagination and actions.
What would you love to build or rebuild today? What secret portals and
rebirths might you find and nurture while you cultivate eyes to see and
ears to hear? Look, listen and feel. The New awaits your invitation and
belief! / link to original article

Thanks to:

  I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity ~ Edgar Allan Poe

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