Travelling back from Portland to Chicago I found myself in a melancholy mood. My voice packed away with my makeup. My city face dissolving back into relief. Dragging my bag like a heavy weary dog with leaden feet on a short leash. Bumping at my ankles – shambling along behind me. I loved standing in front of a crowd again, being entertaining, succeeding, hearing the applause and feeling those smiles and nods and the laughter. I realised how much I have missed that world. I loved the applause. Everyone needs applause.
I especially thrilled at walking through a sleepy Sunday morning Portland the sun shining, so much green it hurt my eyes, hearing people singing, walking dogs, eating street food. I love morning cities.
But I also longed to be back in my own safe other world back here on the farm where I belong.
Are we all two people? Changing the props and our costumes, adjusting the score. I realised that working with animals draws me in, into a solitary world of silence and smiles. Gentler smiles. Always listening and watching and smelling. Air expelled in small audible sighs of satisfaction. Completely unseen.
Hair and colours absolutely unnecessary in a world of animals. Just those smells and sounds. That constant checking for harm or alarm. With animals we walk gently. Softening any clipped movements into seamless gentle changes. We are careful not to jar or clash. When an animal slumbers we let her sleep. When a pig is running we slow down so they slow and do not do themselves harm. Keeping a clumsy cows environment safe and planned.
But this world of people is so noisy. So loud and colourful. The emotional jostling and and jimmying for the lead. Positioning and watching. This need to be seen and noted. To stand out. To speak to the right people and be animated and interesting and commanding of attention. The loud laughs these people have. The drop in the pit of your stomach when you realise that the Big Fish have no interest in you at all. That terrible cafeteria pause of where will you sit and at what table at dinner because you have no posse and wish you had a pig or dog with you to make you real again. Your slightly panicked feeling like a huge forehead pimple. Trying to quickly pick up your dropped poise but it is in pieces from the sheer noise of such a gathering. And no-one notices anyway. Yet the searching gaze that others have, like they have secrets. Some want to take a finger of yours and put it in their book of pockets, put a pick into your brain. Others as gentle and kind as spring. Patting your scared cat of a face back into place. 
I fly home passing over rivers and mountains watching the green bleed from the land until once more we fly into the sepia landscape of Illinois. Dormant under us. Does a farmer look up at my plane as I steadily roar overhead. On course.
As we fly I think of the things I have learned. That the people who run WordPress are young and alive and passionate about where they are and what they are doing. How they volunteer their time to come out and teach us at conferences like these. How they grabbed at my pages of typed out requests and questions about the new Post Page with glee. They love feed back. They want this to work. They encourage our success. They lean forward to every question and use kindness in their responses.
I think of The range of ages and the variety of people who attended. Some hand in hand. Some carrying bags and laptops. String bags. Canvas bags. Fancy laptop bags. Worn out handbags. Some watchful like me and some networking and darting about. Some beautifully dressed and others in worn cardigans and comfy jeans. Happy that you are there. The ordinary bloggers who are searching to do better.
How bloggers are forging a new kind of language and new kind of communication. How it is morphing. How much of our blogging now is truthful and real. Not for money or gain. But as the very true expression of the art we all carry in ourselves. How age and looks and weight and health and popularity are all adjusted to a level field in the blogging world. how ultimately many of us are just as happy alone in front of our keyboards.
I thought about the wonder many people felt when they heard about The Fellowship about how you guys support me and each other. How when I am out doing chores you sometimes even talk amongst yourselves until I come in for my coffee time with you. How we break every rule. And how we prove them. How we really are an unusual and quite incredible gathering of souls. How did we find each other. How lucky we are to have done so.
I think about my talk and wish I could do it again. Wished I could have done it again on that day.
And do to our daily Good Morning. For, now, it is morning again. Still dark outside but I am Back out on the prairies. It is Below Freezing. But my body clock is muddled again from the different time zones and my belly aches from unfamiliar (though incredibly good) food. The mix of relief and longing settling back through my digestive tract.
I watched the mountains pass and wondered about my own mountains and goals. The immediate one being to feed those baby goats and touch and check every single animal on our farm today. Coming home. Bringing you with me.
I met a lady on the plane whose daughter loves pigs so I showed her Timatanga Moana and with delight we began to make plans for her to bring her daughters to the farm for a visit. Isn’t that lovely. Even on the plane I found kindness and kindred spirits.
Soon I will get up and shiver my way into my farming clothes and begin again. This wonderful farming life I have.
I hope you all have a lovely day, thank you for coming along on yet another journey with me.
Love celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
81 responses to “Back to the Country”
This post really found a reflective piece inside me and is bouncing around quite nicely now. Thank you.
I missed your talk, the times were all wrong for NZ 😦 I cant wait until the recording comes out. And I am GLAD you are back with your animals. It was your sensitivity to the creatures in your care that drew me in, animals are so important especially when you live miles from other people and do not see another living soul for days and days.
🙂 I know “Mad Cat Woman”, I confess, but I like my birds too… not always a good combination – cats and people like birds for different reasons.
So glad you had this opportunity , and you were really a very good presenter.You shined and we could hear people laughing with your portraits of the animals and oohing and ahhing at the photos.Followed it livestream from sunny Portugal and was so glad to hear your real voice – newzealand accent and all.Couldn t watch the later panel you were in, my connection kept falling but will look forward to it when and if it becomes available later.You are great and we are all very proud of you.Isabel
Ups!meant to tell you in previous comment that I am one of your shy/silent readers and have been so for the last 3 months.Best morning injection of energy, inspiring stories and beautiful pictures I ever found.Thank you for all your work and sharing it so beautifully with us.Isabel
Many if the Fellowship are shy too so we do understand.. c
I do love an occasional trip to the city because the experience alone is just amazing. I reflect on many of my life’s trips, but I also remember how good it felt to be home at the return. I often throw off my shoes and just plant my feet on the home place ground, feeling the vibration of my roots. I know it is where I belong… but oh, that gypsy in all of us loves to get out and ramble about a bit. I loved the city photos… and your musings gave us all a little to ponder about our observations of people and places and what it all might mean. That’s something I love about you… you manage to say very eloquently what we all might have thought or wondered, but never say out loud.
OH, Ci, your wandering thoughts are ….now what which word?…so collected memory /philosophical/ astute/ wandering familiar paths. “My voice packed away with my makeup.” Felt that way after so many conferences and meetings. I’m glad you got to walk around a little bit.
Farms may be experienced and appreciated best by the very young who are enchanted with all to explore and the older who welcome the quiet sounds and it’s own sort of ordering. In between people are mesmerized by other people – and those stages of performance and applause.
This is a special coterie and you the magnet that draws all to one place while so far apart.
Oh Celi Gunther, now you have me in [happy] tears again . . . perhaps mostly because today you have enunciated SO clearly why SO many people with SO much daily doings in their ‘real’ lives right around the world never fail to drop in for the cuppa! Many now with the added picture/sound besides the writing. Methinks this Portland conference has added so much depth and form and understanding to the Fellowship!! I am a typical Gemini [whatever that means!]. I have mostly been a city gal! I looked at your Portland photos [have been there half a dozen times never to be midtown:) !] and there was but little attraction . . . . . live semi-rurally now: that will do just fine!!!! [smiling about readers commenting on your accent – would they not have fun coming to both Australia and NZ and find out we ALL talk like that 🙂 !]
C. Again you expressed so eloquently my thoughts exactly yesterday after meeting you, finally in person. Knowing you…the Farmy C. I could sense that weariness about the the big city C. I believe I guess because I felt somewhat the same. Although I did not have to meet all those new people, give a speech and have that terrifying cafeteria experience that you did, it was still sensory overload for me after 2 days in Portland! You truly must have been exhausted! As we sat deflating, watching the ocean waves yesterday after our visit, I somehow knew how you were feeling traveling back to your beloved and safe Farmy!
Until we meet again…thank-you for making the world a better place and by founding the Fellowship!
I can’t wait to hear your talk…I know you were brillant! xo
I found you on a random search for a recipe and never looked back. I read your posts every chance I get! (and if I miss a few days, then I scrolly scrolly back to find them all to catch up!) I am so happy your conference was such a success. Congrats!
When I read your post this morning I couldn’t comment because you have this ability to leave me speechless and so full of emotions that I have no words just feelings. You say things that I feel deep inside me over and over in your posts. Thank you C.
P.Sl. I shared you on Twitter and Google+ but can’t find your Facebook Share 😁
The words are inspiring. The truth. The honesty.. The utter joy of sharing ones life. A good way to start my day Miss C.
Thank you Darling Virginia, i hope today is a good one for you/. c
I am feeling calm and relaxed today cousin C. This part of the journey will be over in a couple of hours. It is a gorgeous spring morning here on the farm. Another reason to smile and be happy. XX Virginia
DEFINITELY everyone needs applause.
I was in conference / über-social mode last weekend myself. The other half of myself, that is. Charming them all, hugging old friends, laughing loudly, making the rounds, absorbing inspiration, being witty… I was performative waller / semi-retired academic rather than solo-toiling, slightly antisocial waller. (I was clean and fancy waller rather than dirty Carhartt waller.) I know what you mean. Two selves. Warm recognition from a crowd washing over you is a beautiful thing…
And then, if you’re me, the introvert has to return to a cave and hide for a brief time after expending so much energy with All of the People!
and your T shirt just arrived and fits perfectly.. I just LOVE the colours.. clever grubby carhart waller girl
Oh, hooray! Gosh, Miss C, you must be teeny but mighty! So thrilled you like it. Wear it with pride. It is basically the most feminist t-shirt EVER.
You captured the essence of downtown Portland better than a native. Wonderful photography. I do envy your farm life with all the animals. Each of us has different needs at different times. I live in a small suburb outside of Portland so I have the best of both worlds in some respects. I could have listened to you for hours but I’ll settle for reading your blog and living vicariously with your wonderful animals. Thank you for coming all the way out here to share your wonder.
What a gift you have to get up in front of others and speak! I dread it. It’s interesting the emotions that get churned up when we get a taste of a former life. I really loved the shots of the snowy mountains out the airplane windows. Great shadows and colors!
Thanks for taking us along, but I, too, am glad to be heading back to the farmy.