Like a green maple leaf or a white snowflake, the overused symbols of nature remind me of a card shop – glossy photos of beautiful landscapes captured on heavy card stock and printed with catchy phrases or notes of love, thanks, happiness, or grief. In some ways, I can connect to them and understand that in that instant, those photos were of a real time and place – beautiful, remote, or even dangerous. But more often, I associate them with heavily-scented candles, boxes of mid-quality chocolate, fluorescent lights, and soft jazz music.
I promise this narrative is leading to the profound thoughts I had just before New Year's Eve. Reflections, even, that inspired me to record important events throughout the past year. But before I can reflect, it is my duty as a writer to inform the reader that these reflections are like the glossy images on Hallmark cards: selective pictures of a dynamic, moving landscape. Pictures can lie by hiding the whole truth, and so will I. But I trust you, the reader, can understand why I choose to condense and edit my past year.
Early in 2010, I found myself living in a half-completed cabin, struggling with broken wood stoves and drafty doors. Trevor and I had no running water, and we woke up to 40 degrees – curled up under four blankets with two dogs. We luckily found a new wood stove, and as the sunlight crept back from the solstice, our cabin became more habitable. I looked forward to a summer where the cabin would be finished.
At the same time, I fulfilled a dream of becoming a certified Emergency Medical Technician. The class was deadly boring, but the experience with the Marlboro Volunteer Fire Company was invaluable, and continues to be to this day. Sometimes, the experiences are silly, or routine – fire alarms, down power lines, or unusual events at Vermont Yankee. Sometimes, the experiences are hard. Car accidents, medical patients, deaths – to name a few. For the first time ever, I performed CPR on a woman, and though we worked for what seemed an eternity to start her heart, she died. In short, it changed my perceptions of death in this world, and I understand the hardships of those who try their best to save a dying life.
Spring saw renewed work on the cabin, and the construction progressed quickly. The siding was finished, paperwork went to the state for running water, trim was completed, and rooms formed from utilitarian boxes to cozy and comfortable living spaces. For the first time in my life, I learned to tap maple trees and Allison, Trevor, and I collected many gallons of sap to make a half-gallon of maple syrup. Fresh syrup from the boiling pot has a flavor that cannot be matched by anything in the store. It was a sweet adventure. And speaking of sweet, I ventured into the world of Julia Child, successfully making her famous Chocolate Mousse and croissants.
I also learned many lessons in fixing cars and trucks, and wandered further into the world of electricity – a fascinating and fun way to spend work hours. The workshop started to form into a reasonable shape, and the unthinkable occurred: Allison's basement was cleaned!
The summer saw more cabin work, sawing wood, splitting wood, and occasionally good healthy fun (such as caving and climbing up marble-carved waterfalls). I also had the pleasure of meeting a small gray fox from only ten feet away – a beautiful wild creature. I was lucky enough to get photos, and meet with a good neighbor who I had never really known.
The end of the summer saw the formation of a new small business of which I am a partner, Ironwood Artisans, and the return of a good friend, Edwin, from China. It also saw the departure of another close friend: Ashley, who ventured to the west coast to play in the woods. I miss him still. The cabin continued to take shape, though the water was delayed for longer than expected.
Over the summer, I had added many new woodworks to my repertoire: kitchen counters, cabinets, jewelry boxes, chessboards, board games, bull-roarers, custom bookshelves, cutting boards, wind chimes, and others. I feel that in 2010, my woodworking skill starting moving from amateur to semi-professional. I am especially happy that I could achieve this. Papa Katrick, wherever you are, I hope you are proud. I certainly couldn't have done it without you.
I would also like to say that I have a greater appreciation of the hazards of table saws. That is all.
I rediscovered music, and have since picked up my trumpet again and fiddled with random sheet music. I occasionally played with the guitar, a new (to me) mandolin, tin whistle, didgeridoo, and, surprisingly, my voice. I pulled out my watercolors, and managed to sketch a few pictures. I have taken more photographs, and started to learn the basics of photography.
On the other end of the spectrum, Trevor and I raised Guineahens, and planted a very successful garden. The tomatoes overwhelmed us, and we had more squash than we could cook. Mint, sage, strawberries, carrots, peas, and peppers overflowed in our small plot. We agreed last year: the 2011 garden will be bigger and better. I have full faith that it will.
We also experimented with fermentation again, and I successfully made a dry hard cider that I have been enjoying very much. Trevor made juniper mead, which is aging gracefully under the kitchen cabinet. I hope to make raspberry cider in the new year, and Trevor wants to try gooseberry mead.
In raising poultry, I found the necessity to learn how to shoot a gun. I've since practiced with rifles and handguns, and it has changed my perception of firearms. Soon, I will be in the market for a .22 or a 30/30 so that Trevor and I can protect our livestock. I have also experienced the awful necessity of shooting predators by clipping the wing of a Barred owl who had attacked one of our hens. I hope the owl survived, but I also hope she finds a new hunting ground. My next shot will be more accurate.
I found more time to reconnect with family, but not enough, and I hope to more in the upcoming year. Trevor and I took a week-long vacation, and it was perhaps the most relaxed I have felt in years. It's hard to realize how hard I've pushed myself until I stop. The next month, We entered into the National Novel Writing Month to attempt to write 50,000 words in 30 days. I am happy to say that Trevor succeeded at his goal, and is on his way to writing a new novel. I didn't reach 50,000, but I did pull out an old story and started a new. By the end of the month, I had totaled 12,000 words.
The beginning of December was filled with craft shows for Ironwood Artisans, and the middle of the month was a flurry of plumbing and electrical work on the cabin. I can now say that the cabin, having started in May 2009, is finally finished. Of course, there's still a few bits of trim here and there, but trim work is perpetual – kind of like dusting or washing the windows. I am happy to be living in a complete home with my boyfriend, two dogs, and a wonderful warm woodstove.
Now that I have taken you on this wandering and incomplete adventure through 2010, I hope you aren't too lost or bored. It is, in essence, and exercise for me to remember the many things that happened over the last year. I hope to remember them and learn from them to make my 2011 even better. I have much hope that it will be. Though the last year is still a collection of glossy, card stock memories, I have a dynamic and moving life in front of me and ahead of me. I will do my best of absorb it all – and take advantage of everything this beautiful place called Vermont has to offer.
Happy New Year.
