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”
You did a good job of capturing Portland and your reflective journey home 🙂
I’m not sure how each of us found you, but I’m so glad that we did. Love my morning coffee on the Farmy.
I love this post, such a very interesting read about city life, farm life and blogging.
Good morning Arlene Herself.. c
You’ve had both kinds of fun, putting yourself out there, and then the comfort of folding that public, glamorous, performing Celi neatly back into the box under the bed, and bringing out the comfortable flannel Celi, who knows and recognises the sleeping breath of every animal in her care. It’s Jimmy Choos vs comfy shoes! So glad you’re back…
Jimmy Choos vs Comfy Shoes – Love it! Good to be home, now all I need is a little sun and some warm so all the animals and I can get outside into it! c
A journey on several levels. Glad you are Safe Home.
Celi, I’m convinced you are our Pied Piper … on any given day a note piped will be heard by somebody and they are drawn into the Fellowship. Luckily for us the ending is much happier as we all gather on the Farmy with you and your animals 🙂 Portland street art is fabulous unlike our city graffiti which is just down right ugly. So true your observations about being alone in a huge busy melee. Welcome home. Laura
I thought a lot about your talk as I went through my day here. I don’t farm … but I do share my day with four kindred donkey spirits. I remembered when I first heard about ‘blogs’ and I wondered what they were, how to find interesting ones to read, and maybe … how to write one of my own. My first blog was for my students and parents when I was teaching. But my first ‘real’ blog experience was when I brought home a lonely donkey and needed to learn more. THEN I learned just how powerful a network this blogosphere really is. By sharing my steep learning curve with Paco and my growing donkey herd I met others who had donkeys, who rescued donkeys, who trained donkeys, who cared for donkeys … and just like you said, we taught each other. Now I have a network of donkey families that I can turn to for help. We’ve never met face to face – and yet I know their names and share their daily pleasure of life in the slow lane. And that is how I ended up finding the Fellowship. I branched out to see what others were doing in quiet rural spaces on old farms. Some people have the wrong impression about blogging and social media … or maybe just different experiences than the positive and uplifting one that ‘can’ be there. I too relish the opportunity to live a quiet life with simple pleasures and time to tap away at my keyboard reflecting on my journey.
I am so happy I found the farm it us my morning pause with coffee before the hectic day begins in the city. I like knowing that it is there, where it is kind and safe, animals are loved and treated well. Thanks for those snaps of Portland, we had a great vacation there it was nice seeing it again for a moment. Welcome home.
It should be thank you, Celie, for taking us with you! It was mega. But I wouldn’t change my quiet rural life for excitement and applause in a big city for all the tea in China. As I read your post,I could feel the tension relaxing back into lovely clever kind Farmy Celie, and I heaved a sigh of relief that you wouldn’t be hankering too much for city life. I’ve found a new blogger to follow and who.s following me from among your Portland friends, another quilter.
Don’t overdo it today – you need a bit of rest after all that excitement.
love,
ViV xoxox
Celi, you are such a star, keeping us all up to speed on a daily basis. I do wish I could be more like you. I don’t have a farmy or others to look after, other than my Pete when he is home and I don’t find the time – guess I must stop with the excuses.
Beautifully captured shots C, lovely to see Portland through your eyes and so happy for you to be back home on the farmy with your animals.
Love to you from a beautiful sunny SA.
🙂 Mandy xo
Isn’t it fun visiting BIG cities? I have not been to the northwest but have been to LA, San Fran, NYC, Boston, Chicago – and LOVE visiting. I think the North End of Boston and NYC are my two favorites. Chicago is very enchanting also – but I love the walk-ability of Boston and NYC. But while I love visiting – it is just that a visit. I feel living in these big mega cities would be just to overwhelming to my senses. And – since I do live in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex you may think that is a strange statement, but you see, I grew up in the country side where the commute to ‘the city’ was 30+ minutes. Close enough to get the benefits, but far enough to no hear it all the time. I think it would be the sounds that would bother me the most.
Glad you took us with you! Hopefully tomorrow I can post a link to the beautiful tulip and cherry blossom pictures I took at the Dallas Arboretum Saturday. It was a beautiful day to be in the flower gardens and it was good for the heart to know spring is in deed here. Love to you all! Pat
Glad your back. I couldn’t watch your speech, so I will wait for it to come online hopefully. I love cities and I also love the countryside, given the choice where to live I would always prefer country, city’s are great for visiting from time to time. I love your photos on the plane x
WHAT BRINGS ME HERE TIME AND AGAIN IS YOUR ABILITY TO ARRANGE THOSE 26 LETTERS INTO THE MOST DELIGHTFUL PROSE. IT IS BEAUTIFUL PLACE…THE BLOGIVERSE, YOUR FARM AND MINE AND ALL THOSE PLACES WE ALL CALL HOME.
Such a heart felt post, as always Celi. The extremes between city life and ‘fitting in’ there, and the country life with the welcoming needs of the animals and family. Also the references to the young people running the conference and how very helpful they were. How wonderful to meet people so willing to help. I noticed that so often while listening to the conference on the web. What a delight that was! So happy you are home! Do listen to what Viv suggests, take it easy today. Your body and time clock and mental systems are readjusting to life on the farmy. You want to jump into Spring…and it IS coming there too….. with lots of energy. Welcome Home!!!!! xo
Welcome home! 🙂