I cloth diapered all of my babies, who are now 20, 18, 15 and the previously stated 12.  I'm a crone.  Anyway...   I used "Diapers Unlimited" for the first 2 babies (remember the daisy vans?) and was unaware of the methods they used to keep those diapers so incredibly clean... I was not as "enlightened" (said with a wink) as I am now.  I just knew, in my naive mind, that I didn't want to send disposables to the landfill.  

By the time baby #3 came along, I knew a bit more and felt I could no longer support the massive water use and chemical dumping that commercial diaper services use, so, I began washing diapers myself.   

At the time, I was a real "Tightwad Gazette" fan.  Although I never agreed with her parenting advice (ack) I did, however agree with Amy D's view of our culture's twisted expectancies of everything being perfect.  Perfectly white meant perfectly clean.  Perfect meant new, never used or unstained.  I thought of those principles and in my own spirit, made them my own.  

We, as the Mother Culture collective, have come to feel all things must be new, clean and perfect.  Stains, wear-n-tear, and signs of prior use are only acceptable when placed artificially as in Shabby Chic or faux vintage.  Real stains, washed, dried and left by history are considered not only sub-pare but  completely unacceptable.  

Forgive me, I digress.  when my #3 baby came along, I asked for cloth diapers as gifts.  Rubber pants, pins and a five gallon bucket (with tight fitting lid) filled with water and vinegar completed my diapering ensemble.   

I would shake out the baby poo, rinse in the toilet if necessary and then drop the diaper in the bucket of vinegar water.  When the bucket was full, I would dump it in my old top loading washer (hey- it was 1992...) soaking water and all, and then set it on spin.  Spin out the water and diapers and then run the load of diapers with hot soapy water.  I would dry them in the sun if possible (he was a summer baby) and fluff them in my dryer for maybe five minutes.  That was how I diapered #4 as well.    

Personally, I don't believe for a minute that cloth is even half as detrimental to our Mother as disposables are... garbage is bad, period.  The environmental impact cloth diapers have on planet can only be gauged by our own fear of what is really clean, how clean is clean enough and how do we reach these sanitary results.  Bleach, extreme heat created by excessive energy use... how much is too much?  

I loved folding my old fashioned diapers, even as they aged and turned a parchment color.  Each time I used a pin to close the fabric, I felt a connection with the sisters and mothers of past generations that had repeated the same ritual with their babies.  Much like the spirituality of feeding my children with my breast, being completely conscious during sacred moments with my child remains on my heart far more than the "visits to the zoo".    

The holy choice for me was not one of convience or even environmental distruction.  I wanted to be there, each time my child needed me.  I once heard the phrase 'the sacred is found in the mundane' and it was perhaps the springboard I used to my current spiritual path.   

The mundane act changing a soiled diaper can be a precious, sacred moment between one who loves the child and the child herself.  The unconscious minute of ripping the tape off of the plastic is transformed to the caregiver, taking care with the sharp pin.  Of course, one can take care to look into the child's eyes as a disposable  diaper is changed.  For me, the connection with history and ancients was one of importance.

I found a movie that helped my soul find peace in another time... "The Mists of Avalon" was a really wonderful trip to ancient times and magick.  I loved it.  I needed to watch something wonderful after the miserable Boleyn movie.

I haven't been "here" much because, well, honestly, I have been living.  I have been reading, cooking, walking, knitting (a new, giant blanket is now underway and will soon consume much of my knitting corner) and finding peace in the images of the English countryside.

What is it that draws me to dense trees, lush green vines and hedges?  Why do I see the wet grass and want to lie down?  Where am I from and how did I get here?  The hardest question to allow into my heart is not only where did I come from but why am I here now yet yearn for another place? 

It seems as if it would be wiser to accept The Now and be at peace.  I am willing to try but just do not know how.  It is as if I keep reading Life's basic instructions but do not comprehend.  I want something that is completely out of reach and I am wrenched with the pain of what is right and what is desired.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing yet snow is in the forecast.  This is fitting and reflects how I feel... Spring will come but first, Nature will have her way.  Wait.  Pick up your handwork and wait.  Busy yourself by the fire and have heart.  Spring will come.

Blessed Be

Have any of you ever felt fear walking behind you?  It's long, cold fingers reaching out for you as you try to stay a step ahead? 

I woke up this morning and felt anxiety wrap around me like a blanket.  I have no idea why.

If anyone is able to do a tarot reading or my charts... I would be so grateful.  I am a mess and I have no idea why.

Blessed Be

Seven more deadly sins to choose from... 

Below is a clip from a news website which I found interesting. 

"The Catholic Church has come out with a list of seven new modern day sins - 1,500 years after announcing the original Seven Deadly Sins.

The Vatican said it was time to modernize their list of mortal sins, the most serious of sins, to fit the changing world. Traditionally, mortal sins are those considered to break the Ten Commandments.

The new sins outlined in the Vatican's official newspaper L'Osservatore Romano, include:

1. Genetic modification
2. Human experimentations
3. Polluting the environment
4. Social injustice
5. Causing poverty
6. Financial gluttony
7. Taking drugs

According to the Catholic Church, a person who commits a mortal sin risks burning in hell unless it's absolved through confession and penitence."

Okay... is it just me or does "Harm ye none" cover the old seven deadlys, the new ones and any that might fall inbetween?  Personally, I don't need a church -any church- to tell me what is right, what is wrong and what is sin.

But hey, that's just me...

I have lived in Michigan my entire life.  It isn't a popular state, by any means.  Economically, I think we are #1 but on the wrong list.  Tornados like Michigan.  New Orleans residents were offered free housing here after Katrina and said "Uh...no thanks."  I even have a resentful memory of a Gallagher routine in which he puts on a goofy hunting hat and declares, "I am Michigan.  Duh-huh!"

I was brought to Michigan en vitro and have been here ever since (in Michigan, that is, not en vitro).  Forty-two years ago, my parents left Kentucky.  It was that classic black and white Hollywood scene of the poor family, squeezed into the 1955 Chevy wagon, with all of their worldly possessions roped to the roof.  My mother was pregnant (with me) and my dad had a 7th grade education.  They came to Michigan looking for a better life.

My father died over thirty years later with nothing.  The aluminum fabrication plant he had dredged himself to each day closed with no notice to it's workers and took their pensions with it.  The plastics' industry that sustained my mother for 30 years has closed as well.  My parents, one dead and one dying, gave up their hopes for a better life because they made the mistake of relying on the powers that be to fix Michigan.

I have stayed here for different reasons.  Perhaps my husband and I could have created a better financial future for our family elsewhere.  Perhaps we could have, at the very least, struggled in a more pleasant climate.  But we met, dated, married and started family in Michigan.  As each child was born, I had another reason to stay here with the grapes, apples, and increasingly unemployed.

My first baby, a beautiful little girl, was born just a few days before a white Christmas.  In fact, I have a baby for each season! My 2nd born, also a girl, was born in September, and came home to paisley carpet of fresh fallen leaves and Heather's first jack-o-lantern smiling on the front porch.  

My 3rd, our oldest son, was born on June 3rd.  Oh, I remember the absolute gorgeous day we brought him home!  His big sisters jumping up and down, cheering and laughing.  Soon, they would decide that little brothers were not as great as they had anticipated. 

My youngest was born on a typical spring morning.  It was raining so hard, I insisted Bob keep the little ones home, who were 8, 6, and 4, because of the weather.  Just before my discharge, my darlings did bring flowers to the hospital.  I stood in my hospital room and held my newborn son, watching the kids cross the parking lot each holding a bouquet of daisies.  My three coming to meet my fourth. 

Perhaps this is why I love the seasons, all of the seasons, so passionately. I am always excited to see the first snow, first lilac, the first tomato and the first pumpkin.  Each month brings something new to experience; something new to enjoy.  Learning to make it through from one month to the next isn't an attribute unique to Michigan but perhaps the most vital.  Something better is just around the corner.  Wait for it...

I don't anticipate living my entire life in America's 26th state.  I have much I want to see and have seen nearly none of it, except on various sizes of screens.  New Zealand, the UK, Ireland and even our neighbor Canada is on my list.  I don't plan on being a tourist in these places.  My real dream is to actually participate as a resident and live with each of the area's people.  The land is not the attraction.  The people and the lives they live; that is the actual fabric of culture.  I want to bake bread in Italy, draft beer in Ireland, sit where Beatrix Potter sat as she sketched Benjamin Bunny.  I want to live everywhere.

But as a mother and wife, I have lived here, in the temperamental midwest, creating a life beyond a perpetual sun or steadily rising economy.  We have stood the test of time and money in a place many call home not by choice but by accident.  As my children grow into adults and make decisions for themselves, I will encourage them to dream big and to error on the side of desire, not caution.  But soon, they will build foundations on soil of their own choosing.  Perhaps that soil will be that of Michigan.