This Perfectly Imperfect Life

"Bloom where you're planted." I keep trying, but, honestly? Not succeeding to my liking yet. Not by a long shot. Not sure how.  Maybe I'll finally figure it out one day. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll conquer my fears, insecurities, and inertia one day so I can. And maybe I won't. I feel root-less, unrooted, and I wonder if that will ever change? Maybe it won't.  Maybe one day I'll finally get these novels out of me!  When your body tends to be ruled by pain, fatigue, and illness more often than not, it's so difficult to move forward and progress, much less think strait. But, I'll keep trying to bloom where I'm planted, even in this place that we don't own which is our home, anyhow.  And maybe one of these days, it just might happen.

To all who are celebrating today, I hope you are having a lovely and safe holiday! This is my favorite Irish Blessing, which hangs in our hallway. I got a later start this morning than I planned on, thanks to waking up with a migraine, but dinner is finished and ready for 5pm with a few hours to spare. The corned beef brisket I buy doesn't have a spice packet, but that's alright because I use my own seasonings anyhow. I cover the brisket with water and add a few bay leaves, lots of fresh ground pepper, two dashes of mustard seeds, a dash of garlic powder, and a tablespoon of minced garlic. Once the pot comes up to a boil, I skim off the foam (and re-add some pepper if a lot came out with the foam), and then I simmer the corned beef for 3 hours, turning it over every so often if any of it is sticking out about the water line so it cooks evenly. Corned beef and cabbage, with potatoes and with or without onions and carrots, is traditionally served to celebrate Sain

In my family, and here at The Portable Homestead, Saint Patrick's Day is not an excuse to get snockered.  It's a holiday. Like Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter. Always has been.  A celebration of my heritage and food, a celebration of my Nana, and a day to remember her, although not a day goes by that I don't. 

This place! This place has my heart. Hook, line and sinker.  It's ironic - we live on the coast, minutes away from the bayshore and shore, and my heart belongs to these mountains.* Yes, New Jersey has mountains!  When we are up here, in this area, in these mountains, I am home . Or maybe it's more accurate to say that my soul is home? I don't know how else to explain how I feel when we are up here.  Sadness knocks at my heart when it is time to leave, and once back on the coast, I am overwhelmed by heartbreaking homesickness ! That homesickness is downright awful if we've been up here for more than a few days.   I struggled through snow past my knees and even up to my waist in spots to get from our camper to the dock, my favorite morning spot when we're up, but I was too exhausted given all the trekking through snow yesterday (plus a night at the Worst Motel Ever - more on that another time) and this morning just to get to the camper (because ap

I wish I could have stood in this spot, listening to the creek and basking in the late winter sun longer... But, The Portable Homestead rascals were building a snow fort to my left and ever so inconspicuously chatting about whether or not I was trying to spy on them in their fort! (lol) So I moved along after taking this photo.  I've been feeling anything but well all week, including today, and now on top of that I feel I may be coming down with a cold or another round of strep. I have been in A Lot of pain. A. Lot. Neck to toes. My first IV session since October is this coming March 31st, but it's going to take at least a couple of sessions to get back on track at this point. But, I needed to be outside for a while today, despite the cold, and went around taking care of ice patches on the less than sunny side of The Portable Homestead. Some of the ice is so thick, the Marine will have to take of it later or tomorrow. I'm not strong enough physically, espe