Uncertainty

I am sitting in the shade of the garage, thanks to the convenience of the new laptop we bought with a portion of our tax refund. Joe is around the corner in the garden, racing his toy construction equipment through the dirt in order to kick up dust. Dust is apparently evidence of lightning speed. Fin and Z are harassing Jane in a pen set up so that the rabbit can attempt to enjoy dining on some spring grass. The presence of the girls makes that difficult (for the rabbit).

I have been fighting a vague feeling of depression and psychosis related to 'the plan'. Nobody came to look at the house last weekend, and no one has come so far this week. I know this market is just plain crazy, and there might be a surge of potential home buyers in the next month trying to take advantage of the tax credit before it expires, but I was hoping we would have had a relatively quick sale. I am really, really, really tired of making beds in the morning.

On top of all this, I am nearly finished with Omnivore's Dilemma, which has heightened even more my desire for a big, fat, functional garden and a few chickens. Then I walk outside and see my shrunken garden and the half-arsed (pardon the language) raised beds I made too big just to use up some lumber, all of which I did with the intent to make our yard less overwhelming to buyers. I had pulled the floor out of the compost bin to allow the worms better access to the compost, but neglected to build the divider that I really wanted to separate one year's compost from another... all because I wasn't sure we would be here for another summer. I am learning lessons here.

A few weeks ago, I was walking through the library. They had tables set out in the foyer with books relating to different themes on each one. One table had gardening books, among them was Five Acres and Independence, one of the books I bought over a year ago to educate myself on rural, self-sustained living. Not exactly a gardening book. I want to take it as a small sign from God not to lose hope.

One evening, I was talking to an old acquaintance who used to live on an small acreage. They moved back into town because his wife didn't like the isolation. I told him I thought I could handle it, but wasn't too sure. He said, 'If you get energized by looking up at the stars at night or taking a walk in the woods...' The next night, I was out in the back yard, staring up at clouds moving above the treetops, and for a few seconds, it almost felt like I was alone with nature and the presence of God pressing around me. It was something I hadn't felt for a long time. And then the drone of a plane and the thumps of a neighbor's stereo interrupted the moment.

So I've been thinking about quantum mechanic's uncertainty principle today. You can't know everything about a particle's position and its momentum (speed and direction). It's one or the other or only a little bit of both. And that's where I'm at with 'the plan': We are here, and I don't know exactly where we are going or how fast.