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| Exciting News! Heidi and Phil will be visiting on July 23rd, so mark your calendar. We're planning to hold a covered dish picnic/engagement party for them here at the barn. Details will be forthcoming! |
| Heidi & Phil are ENGAGED! |
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Happy spring greetings to friends and family!
This is the e'mail of two big announcements:
1. I now have a blog site. I have decided that it will be easier for myself and anyone else
interested in my whereabouts to keep updates posted here. so, go to:
http://www.woodlandninjachronicles.blogspot.com/
when you want to know the recent wanderings and ramblings of Heidi and Phil. Feel free,
however, to also continue e'mailing me at my usual e'mail address.
2. Phil King (the squirrel) and I are engaged! We are planning a wedding for early
September, to be held somewhere near us in the Ithaca area. I will post updates when I
have other details nailed down.
So, for now, that's the news. I hope this finds everyone well, enjoying April's beauties.
much love and many blessings,
heidi
Happy spring greetings to friends and family!
This is the e'mail of two big announcements:
1. I now have a blog site. I have decided that it will be easier for myself and anyone else
interested in my whereabouts to keep updates posted here. so, go to:
http://www.woodlandninjachronicles.blogspot.com/
when you want to know the recent wanderings and ramblings of Heidi and Phil. Feel free,
however, to also continue e'mailing me at my usual e'mail address.
2. Phil King (the squirrel) and I are engaged! We are planning a wedding for early
September, to be held somewhere near us in the Ithaca area. I will post updates when I
have other details nailed down.
So, for now, that's the news. I hope this finds everyone well, enjoying April's beauties.
much love and many blessings,
heidi
3/17/06
We enjoyed a spur-of-the-moment St. Patrick's Day visit from Heidi when she squeezed in
a trip to the barn during a whirlwind foray to Lancaster with Phil. Naturally, it was
absolutely wonderful to see her, and to have the opportunity to do some catching up in
person. She enjoyed getting to meet the new horses, including Lexi's Nosey, Betsy's Bug
and Michelle's Zombie, and snuggling her old, familiar horse friends, too.
She's planning to come visit another time and promises to give us a little more notice and
to stay a little longer. We'll definitely use the excuse to have a picnic so that more of her
friends can come say hello. Till then, we'll look forward to more email and telephone
updates!
We enjoyed a spur-of-the-moment St. Patrick's Day visit from Heidi when she squeezed in
a trip to the barn during a whirlwind foray to Lancaster with Phil. Naturally, it was
absolutely wonderful to see her, and to have the opportunity to do some catching up in
person. She enjoyed getting to meet the new horses, including Lexi's Nosey, Betsy's Bug
and Michelle's Zombie, and snuggling her old, familiar horse friends, too.
She's planning to come visit another time and promises to give us a little more notice and
to stay a little longer. We'll definitely use the excuse to have a picnic so that more of her
friends can come say hello. Till then, we'll look forward to more email and telephone
updates!
3/10/06
Greetings and salutations!
It has been far too long since my last update e'mail, and by now some of you undoubtedly
think that I fell off the face of God's good earth. That is not the case, but I have instead
been simply weathering out the grey winter, learning my way around a small plot of
wilderness, and drinking a lot of coffee.
By this time of year, I find myself longing for the taste of fresh wild raspberries and
chickweed and sunshine. The cold, icicle joys of Winter are often harder to appreciate.
But the days are getting longer and brighter, reminding us Spring's awakening will soon
arrive.
For work, I have been involved in the joys and juggling of caring for twins, now 8 months
old. On days of bearable weather, I walk them pushing a double-stroller, greeting
chickadees and neighborhood dogs. I now know first-hand the adventures and many
perils of a meal involving pureed fruits and vegetables. But one of the best things about
being around babies, is having the opportunity to see the world open before their eyes,
everything new to be explored.
In my own studies, I am halfway through the second section of the Kamana Naturalist
Training Program. For my study, I visit an area in the woods every day, taking inventory of
plants, trees, birds, and animals. The main challenge for me is bearing the cold, but I am
sometimes rewarded in my stillness by a visit from a Pileated woodpecker or other
woodland denizen.
I am living in Groton, which is 20 miles north of Ithaca, near Lake Cayuga of the Finger
Lakes region in New York. Ever since leaving Houghton College, it has been a desire of
mine to live in NY again, and I am so glad to be back here. Phil and I live in a bright blue
gingerbread house in this small town, above the lawyer's office. Our bookshelves are full
of treasures: bird's nests, baskets I've made, bow-drill and hand-drill fire sets, feathers,
sticks and stones, and other bits and pieces from our studies. I am also realizing how
much my time with the horses has given me such an advantage in studying and
understanding animal tracking. It's just so amazing how everything in our pasts
unexpectedly leads up to where we land in the present. I am still surprised every day at
where I end up, and that leads me to believe that I'll never know what will come next.
So, I continue in my studies and exploration, not knowing where it will lead next.
This e'mail is shorter than my last few, but I wanted to send out an update, and have been
fighting my procrastination tendencies. Also, I wanted to let everyone know that I haven't
disappeared!
Toby and Angelica (my cats), and Lyric (the guinea pig) all joined me in Groton after
Christmas. They also send their greetings.
I hope Spring is emerging in your hearts and spirits, preparing for storms of new groth.
Many blessings, Heidi
Greetings and salutations!
It has been far too long since my last update e'mail, and by now some of you undoubtedly
think that I fell off the face of God's good earth. That is not the case, but I have instead
been simply weathering out the grey winter, learning my way around a small plot of
wilderness, and drinking a lot of coffee.
By this time of year, I find myself longing for the taste of fresh wild raspberries and
chickweed and sunshine. The cold, icicle joys of Winter are often harder to appreciate.
But the days are getting longer and brighter, reminding us Spring's awakening will soon
arrive.
For work, I have been involved in the joys and juggling of caring for twins, now 8 months
old. On days of bearable weather, I walk them pushing a double-stroller, greeting
chickadees and neighborhood dogs. I now know first-hand the adventures and many
perils of a meal involving pureed fruits and vegetables. But one of the best things about
being around babies, is having the opportunity to see the world open before their eyes,
everything new to be explored.
In my own studies, I am halfway through the second section of the Kamana Naturalist
Training Program. For my study, I visit an area in the woods every day, taking inventory of
plants, trees, birds, and animals. The main challenge for me is bearing the cold, but I am
sometimes rewarded in my stillness by a visit from a Pileated woodpecker or other
woodland denizen.
I am living in Groton, which is 20 miles north of Ithaca, near Lake Cayuga of the Finger
Lakes region in New York. Ever since leaving Houghton College, it has been a desire of
mine to live in NY again, and I am so glad to be back here. Phil and I live in a bright blue
gingerbread house in this small town, above the lawyer's office. Our bookshelves are full
of treasures: bird's nests, baskets I've made, bow-drill and hand-drill fire sets, feathers,
sticks and stones, and other bits and pieces from our studies. I am also realizing how
much my time with the horses has given me such an advantage in studying and
understanding animal tracking. It's just so amazing how everything in our pasts
unexpectedly leads up to where we land in the present. I am still surprised every day at
where I end up, and that leads me to believe that I'll never know what will come next.
So, I continue in my studies and exploration, not knowing where it will lead next.
This e'mail is shorter than my last few, but I wanted to send out an update, and have been
fighting my procrastination tendencies. Also, I wanted to let everyone know that I haven't
disappeared!
Toby and Angelica (my cats), and Lyric (the guinea pig) all joined me in Groton after
Christmas. They also send their greetings.
I hope Spring is emerging in your hearts and spirits, preparing for storms of new groth.
Many blessings, Heidi
11/7/05
Greetings to all.
There are times when the miles fly by, and the story changes so quickly that you feel like
you've lost the plot. At each turn of this trip I seem to find myself in a new place that I had
no premonition or plan to get there. Everything can change in one day, and despite any
amount of planning, you never know where you'll end up. I guess the hand of providence
uses bizarre detours to get you where you belong. I am grateful for the glimpses into the
cosmic sense of humor.
On a warm rainy night in late September I lay awake on a mattress in a broken-down
camper at the top of a mountain in the heart of North Carolina's Appalachians. Phil and I
were visiting Wild Roots, a handful of radical homesteaders living with the land.
Questions swarmed my mind like mosquitoes, "What have I left behind? What am I
supposed to be doing here? What is next?" The following day we were able to set up our
tent, and for the rest of the week we cooked outside, drank from an icy cold mountain
spring, swam in the Pounding Mill Creek, hiked on abandoned logging trails to the
Appalachian trail, and studied the stars and moon.
Originally, my (futile) planning would have then sent us to Florida. However, my classes at
the Tracker School were cancelled due to the hurricane season. Instead, we visited a
Houghton friend, Kevin MacDonald, who is teaching at the Outdoor Academy in Pisgah
National Forest. We pick up a roadkill deer, and helped skin and butcher it with Kevin's
students from his braintanning class. After a good visit and great conversations, we
headed on.
We went to Ithaca, NY, staying briefly with another Houghtonite, Margaret Perry. I was
given an in-depth tour of magnificent Cornell University's veterinary facility where Mags is
studying. It was an impressive glimpse into the world of a vet student, and I will interact
with any vet in the future with a new level of respect and admiration. (And I'm so proud of
Mags for doing it all with such grace and sense of humor.)
Then it seemed that the invisible hand of the universe was inexplicably still pulling us
further northward. Which is how on a sleeting, snowy night in mid October, I found myself
lying awake in a guest house, surrounded by five yurts, where Phil's cousins Chip and
Sarah live in rural central Maine. We stayed for a week, and learned much from our hosts
about many aspects of living close to the earth. Chip and Sarah have been homesteading
in Maine since the 1960's. Being there, with them and their canine friends was nourishing
and inspiring. I picked wild apples, took long walks, visited a series of beaver ponds, and
was always on the lookout, hoping to see my first wild moose (which I still have not). The
list of wonderful things to do outnumbered our days, and I know I'd never have my fill of that
beautiful, wild place.
But I kept wondering, what next? After making a fruitless pro's and con's list, and taking a
long walk down the road that I had to rename Philosophy Road (for the clarity of thought
that it grants to those who move slowly enough), we decided to return to Ithaca. With all
my questions, all my pleading for a hand of guidance, for a divine hand to point the way, I
felt my answer direct me to the Finger Lakes.
So, southward we drove again toward central New York. But the puzzle is still incomplete.
In Ithaca less than 24 hours, Phil and I received a call from the director of the Vermont
Wilderness School. Would we want to help for the week with their youth program, and
assist teaching primitive skills to 15 students in an 800 acre wilderness? (I feel out of
breath.) We drove north again the next day.
The following four days were wonderful. I was challenged, streched, pushed, and filled to
overflowing. To all my Harvest View Stables students, I missed you all so much, and
thought about you every day, wishing I could also share this passion of mine with you.
(But it brings me equal joy to know you are all doing your best learning to love and
communicate with the horses.) With the students we built shelters out of sticks and
leaves, made friction fires, stalked quietly at night by starlight, had raucous acorn fights,
and wandered and explored everything presented to our senses. The Wilderness School
apprentices, who were my hosts, were amazing to work with, and I learned from them
every minute.
So, this is the rough and quick summary of the past month. Believe it or not, there's more,
but I think it's time that I conclude this. I'm still asking myself all those questions, but I
finally feel that I am going in the right direction. Also, I signed a lease on a studio
apartment today, and it has a creek in the backyard. I'll send my new contact information
soon.
I find that I cling too tightly to things. But every day I learn, forget, and relearn that everything
can change in one day. And I learn that the Creator has a sense of humor, and won't let
me take myself too seriously.
I love you all.
Greetings to all.
There are times when the miles fly by, and the story changes so quickly that you feel like
you've lost the plot. At each turn of this trip I seem to find myself in a new place that I had
no premonition or plan to get there. Everything can change in one day, and despite any
amount of planning, you never know where you'll end up. I guess the hand of providence
uses bizarre detours to get you where you belong. I am grateful for the glimpses into the
cosmic sense of humor.
On a warm rainy night in late September I lay awake on a mattress in a broken-down
camper at the top of a mountain in the heart of North Carolina's Appalachians. Phil and I
were visiting Wild Roots, a handful of radical homesteaders living with the land.
Questions swarmed my mind like mosquitoes, "What have I left behind? What am I
supposed to be doing here? What is next?" The following day we were able to set up our
tent, and for the rest of the week we cooked outside, drank from an icy cold mountain
spring, swam in the Pounding Mill Creek, hiked on abandoned logging trails to the
Appalachian trail, and studied the stars and moon.
Originally, my (futile) planning would have then sent us to Florida. However, my classes at
the Tracker School were cancelled due to the hurricane season. Instead, we visited a
Houghton friend, Kevin MacDonald, who is teaching at the Outdoor Academy in Pisgah
National Forest. We pick up a roadkill deer, and helped skin and butcher it with Kevin's
students from his braintanning class. After a good visit and great conversations, we
headed on.
We went to Ithaca, NY, staying briefly with another Houghtonite, Margaret Perry. I was
given an in-depth tour of magnificent Cornell University's veterinary facility where Mags is
studying. It was an impressive glimpse into the world of a vet student, and I will interact
with any vet in the future with a new level of respect and admiration. (And I'm so proud of
Mags for doing it all with such grace and sense of humor.)
Then it seemed that the invisible hand of the universe was inexplicably still pulling us
further northward. Which is how on a sleeting, snowy night in mid October, I found myself
lying awake in a guest house, surrounded by five yurts, where Phil's cousins Chip and
Sarah live in rural central Maine. We stayed for a week, and learned much from our hosts
about many aspects of living close to the earth. Chip and Sarah have been homesteading
in Maine since the 1960's. Being there, with them and their canine friends was nourishing
and inspiring. I picked wild apples, took long walks, visited a series of beaver ponds, and
was always on the lookout, hoping to see my first wild moose (which I still have not). The
list of wonderful things to do outnumbered our days, and I know I'd never have my fill of that
beautiful, wild place.
But I kept wondering, what next? After making a fruitless pro's and con's list, and taking a
long walk down the road that I had to rename Philosophy Road (for the clarity of thought
that it grants to those who move slowly enough), we decided to return to Ithaca. With all
my questions, all my pleading for a hand of guidance, for a divine hand to point the way, I
felt my answer direct me to the Finger Lakes.
So, southward we drove again toward central New York. But the puzzle is still incomplete.
In Ithaca less than 24 hours, Phil and I received a call from the director of the Vermont
Wilderness School. Would we want to help for the week with their youth program, and
assist teaching primitive skills to 15 students in an 800 acre wilderness? (I feel out of
breath.) We drove north again the next day.
The following four days were wonderful. I was challenged, streched, pushed, and filled to
overflowing. To all my Harvest View Stables students, I missed you all so much, and
thought about you every day, wishing I could also share this passion of mine with you.
(But it brings me equal joy to know you are all doing your best learning to love and
communicate with the horses.) With the students we built shelters out of sticks and
leaves, made friction fires, stalked quietly at night by starlight, had raucous acorn fights,
and wandered and explored everything presented to our senses. The Wilderness School
apprentices, who were my hosts, were amazing to work with, and I learned from them
every minute.
So, this is the rough and quick summary of the past month. Believe it or not, there's more,
but I think it's time that I conclude this. I'm still asking myself all those questions, but I
finally feel that I am going in the right direction. Also, I signed a lease on a studio
apartment today, and it has a creek in the backyard. I'll send my new contact information
soon.
I find that I cling too tightly to things. But every day I learn, forget, and relearn that everything
can change in one day. And I learn that the Creator has a sense of humor, and won't let
me take myself too seriously.
I love you all.
9/12/05
Greetings and salutations to all.
Life is full of transition and contrast. It seems unfathomable that events so rich and
dissimilar are all somehow connected in the same life, same world. I am left quietly and
humbly grateful.
On the drive back toward Chicago, Phil and I pulled off the road somewhere in rural
Wisconsin to photograph a bald eagle perched in tree branches overhead. Only a few
nights ago, I fell asleep listening to coyotes howling at each other across the still waters of
Woodbury Lake. Yet, now I’m in Chicago at my mom’s house, trying to grasp the thoughts
flying in my head.
There are numerous scenes of Teaching Drum Outdoor School (WI) that I wish I could
convey. The purpose of the school, as I observed it, is to teach primitive skills in a full-
immersion wilderness setting while fostering emotional healing through the relationships
within the camps. Some criticized the program saying that the goals are too much to do in
one school, but as I sat in on talking circles and camp dinners, I thought: is this not what
we all attempt to feebly do in our own lives? There exists constant tension between caring
for ourselves minimally, and loving others lavishly. Is it possible to isolate any one area of
the human experience to nourish it exclusively?
The Northwoods region is pristine. With acclimation time, one can drink the water straight
from the lake. Since I was there less than 2 weeks, I was only able to enjoy Woodbury
Lake’s other luxuries. When the hot afternoon sun would warm the shallower waters, I’d
swim by the rocky pine tree shores. At sunset, Phil and I took a canoe down the narrow
canal carved into the spongy bog. The water on the open lake reflected the red sunset,
and we watched loons and water bugs skim over sparkling lava.
The participants (called “seekers”) are learning bit by bit to live
more dependent on nature and each other. I learned a lot about
practical daily maintenance and comfort from them. Their diets also
mirror what is available in the region at each season. During our week,
we ate wild meat (venison and fish), eggs, wild and domestic fruits,
vegetables, and nuts. Currently, they are living in tents, but for the winter
they will be preparing the beautiful dome-shaped wigwams for the white season. They
are made of tamarack sapling frames, lashed with basswood, roofed and insulated with
sphagnum moss and birch-bark sewn with spruce roots. Inside, there is just space
enough to stand in the center, where there is a stone hearth with a convection tunnel
leading underneath to the outside for venting. They are truly works of art.
For those of you who want graphic tales: one night Phil and I ate boiled deer fetus. No, I
did not really enjoy it.
One afternoon, for variety and adventure, we walked out through the woods for 3 hours to
find a wild apple tree. Partway on our journey, our party grew weary and took a brief nap in
a pile of leaves. Then, onward. When we finally found the tree, it stood at the edge of what
must have been an old farm field, abandoned years ago. Phil-the-squirrel scurried up the
tree, and then shook branches to release apples into the outstretched hands beneath.
Sweet and tart, all that walk, and only 3 small apples each. But they were worth every bite.
Simple pleasures feel immeasurably richer.
Getting lost on the hike home is a separate story. On dark moonless nights the woods are
all pitch blackness. Walking around at night without a flashlight, wanderers remove their
shoes so their bare feet can feel for the trail in front of them.
We walked among pristine white birches, scared a porcupine up a tree, and listened to the
scolding red squirrels. Now I return to transition and contrast.
So many more stories to tell and to be lived. I feel so richly blessed, and my humble
conclusion is that I am grateful to be balancing on a thread in this great web.
Wherever you are now, I hope these ramblings find you well. My love to all.
Greetings and salutations to all.
Life is full of transition and contrast. It seems unfathomable that events so rich and
dissimilar are all somehow connected in the same life, same world. I am left quietly and
humbly grateful.
On the drive back toward Chicago, Phil and I pulled off the road somewhere in rural
Wisconsin to photograph a bald eagle perched in tree branches overhead. Only a few
nights ago, I fell asleep listening to coyotes howling at each other across the still waters of
Woodbury Lake. Yet, now I’m in Chicago at my mom’s house, trying to grasp the thoughts
flying in my head.
There are numerous scenes of Teaching Drum Outdoor School (WI) that I wish I could
convey. The purpose of the school, as I observed it, is to teach primitive skills in a full-
immersion wilderness setting while fostering emotional healing through the relationships
within the camps. Some criticized the program saying that the goals are too much to do in
one school, but as I sat in on talking circles and camp dinners, I thought: is this not what
we all attempt to feebly do in our own lives? There exists constant tension between caring
for ourselves minimally, and loving others lavishly. Is it possible to isolate any one area of
the human experience to nourish it exclusively?
The Northwoods region is pristine. With acclimation time, one can drink the water straight
from the lake. Since I was there less than 2 weeks, I was only able to enjoy Woodbury
Lake’s other luxuries. When the hot afternoon sun would warm the shallower waters, I’d
swim by the rocky pine tree shores. At sunset, Phil and I took a canoe down the narrow
canal carved into the spongy bog. The water on the open lake reflected the red sunset,
and we watched loons and water bugs skim over sparkling lava.
The participants (called “seekers”) are learning bit by bit to live
more dependent on nature and each other. I learned a lot about
practical daily maintenance and comfort from them. Their diets also
mirror what is available in the region at each season. During our week,
we ate wild meat (venison and fish), eggs, wild and domestic fruits,
vegetables, and nuts. Currently, they are living in tents, but for the winter
they will be preparing the beautiful dome-shaped wigwams for the white season. They
are made of tamarack sapling frames, lashed with basswood, roofed and insulated with
sphagnum moss and birch-bark sewn with spruce roots. Inside, there is just space
enough to stand in the center, where there is a stone hearth with a convection tunnel
leading underneath to the outside for venting. They are truly works of art.
For those of you who want graphic tales: one night Phil and I ate boiled deer fetus. No, I
did not really enjoy it.
One afternoon, for variety and adventure, we walked out through the woods for 3 hours to
find a wild apple tree. Partway on our journey, our party grew weary and took a brief nap in
a pile of leaves. Then, onward. When we finally found the tree, it stood at the edge of what
must have been an old farm field, abandoned years ago. Phil-the-squirrel scurried up the
tree, and then shook branches to release apples into the outstretched hands beneath.
Sweet and tart, all that walk, and only 3 small apples each. But they were worth every bite.
Simple pleasures feel immeasurably richer.
Getting lost on the hike home is a separate story. On dark moonless nights the woods are
all pitch blackness. Walking around at night without a flashlight, wanderers remove their
shoes so their bare feet can feel for the trail in front of them.
We walked among pristine white birches, scared a porcupine up a tree, and listened to the
scolding red squirrels. Now I return to transition and contrast.
So many more stories to tell and to be lived. I feel so richly blessed, and my humble
conclusion is that I am grateful to be balancing on a thread in this great web.
Wherever you are now, I hope these ramblings find you well. My love to all.
Heidi's Travels
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