Rogue Wood Supply

Pleasant House on the Prairie

book of mirrorsVanessa KundermanComment

Hi hi hi. I needed to poke my head in since I've been so MIA. Moving with an infant has been more difficult than I thought, (hiiiii, new mom fail) and where I may have been completely unpacked and settled in a previous life (read, pre-baby and life partner) now, I'm lucky if I can do a box per hour. Actually, that would be really good. It's more like one box unpacked per five hours. Hawksley has been exceptionally demanding as of late and I haven't been able to write, let alone organize our new home. If he isn't held - he cries. Hard.

But you guys! Deer in the yard! Fog in the trees! Dreamy fireplaces and lofts and cedar ceilings! The internet is slower, the yard is quieter, and the coffee tastes stronger. The unpacking/moving experience has been extra exciting because when Derek and I cohabited a lot of my belongings went in storage. Now, discovering some forgotten treasures like Pendleton blankets, raw stone coasters and puppy sweaters has made me fall hard again for my love of thiiiiings. I just want to go thrifting.

I can't wait to show you our new home, but I think I'm going to unveil it in stages, room by room. The bones of this house are incredible, but everything is green and a little dated. As we update, I'm going to share the adventure in my Book of Mirrors category. Actually, I may make a new nesting category but I'm undecided. Stay tuned, I guess. I'm surprising myself though. There were some things that I thought I hated in this house, but when paired with our things I've actually come around to them. Wicker fans, vertical blinds, wooden cabinets... these aren't typical things that I think I'd associate with my particular style but for some reason they work and they're growing on me. For that reason, I'm not changing anything abruptly, but rather taking it slow.

Derek and I made a promise to each other that with this move we would make a serious attempt at living more slowly. I can be a busy body, and that mindset and lifestyle has proven to wreak havoc on my health - on everyone's health! - so we want to make a conscious effort toward slow living. I can't wait to share the journey with you.

But on a side note, we have coyotes in this part of the Prairies, and I'm legit nervous about them. I have "coyote dreams" and am a Nervous Nelly every time I let Rogue outside. Rogue, of course, wants to explore and scavenge through her new sprawling territory, but there's Nervous Mom pacing in the front window. Hiiiiiiiieeee!

"Am I like, allowed to walk through our yard?" I asked Derek. He laughed.
"Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be?" 
"I'm scared of the coyotes."
"Oh geez, Vaness... make a lot of noise when you're out there then."

And my sister: "Aren't they noctural?"
No.

So I haven't actually seen or heard of a coyote, but I've heard stories. When we were getting the insurance set up for our house, the broker mentioned that her friend lived out here and she lost "a lot of dogs" to the coyotes. Here I'm all, "Look Rogue! Mama's bringing you to your paradise!" And really I'm just bringing her to her coyote doom. I'm the worst.

For this past week the fog has hung heavily through the dense trees and I'm telling you - it's ominous! Rogue wouldn't stand a chance against a coyote, especially a pack of them. I don't know why I have coyote fever. Maybe it's the fog. I don't know. I haven't properly saged, sweetgrassed, and palo santoed, or set up grids and crystal protection yet. My "Magic Box" is sitting on the fauxdenza that took five days to mount. I'm itching to get all my thiiiiings out. I know that will make me feel better.

And while we're on the animal conversation, my shamanic studies have me paying close attention to visiting animals, their messages and symbolism. Shortly before our move, a pair of bluejays would sit on the fence of our old house and stare at me through the window or while I sat on the deck. Like - STARE at me. Day after day after day. It's those types of animal connections that you don't ignore. And like... how often do you see bluejays in these parts? Second day at Pleasant House on the Prairie? Boom. Bluejay chilling in the front tree staring me down. Day three. Boom. Bluejay be chillin' again. Bluejays are typically "challengers" meaning their messages aren't always ones of promise, rather of someone or something sending you ill-wishes, be that intentionally or unintentionally. The bluejay is actually a sort of pest in its habitat, albeit beautiful. (Derek says it's just because the Jays were in the playoffs - but now they're out and bluejays still be stalking me)

I realize this post just makes me sound neurotic and terrified of our new home in the middle of the Coyote Forest, but I promise it's magical and oozing serenity. Along with the outer fog, I feel a heavy inner fog as well, and so I've intentionally taken this time away - an ode to slower living - and an ode to being kinder to myself, which is why da posts have been nil. If you haven't signed up for my newsletter, jump on! I'll be covering what's happening out there in the big astrological abyss and why we were all feeling this need to retreat even after Mercury went direct last month. There is a light at the end of the tunnel though, so I'll hang on if you will.