|Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you about Maya’s first summer?
We moved back into the Volkswagen bus when Maya was three
weeks old. And, despite what you might
think, this was just fine with me. Living in a large band house in the University District with an infant
had become a bit much to manage. Since
Paris (Maya’s dad) had taken off by then, my only decision seemed to be where I
wanted to go next.
A good place to start seemed like the Eastern Washington
Healing Gathering. I knew that it was occurring
for about a week and that I’d get to see lots of old friends while I mulled
over my next adventure. I was really
excited to begin showing my beautiful little girl the world.
So off I went. And
for the next week I attended workshops on Massage and Rebirthing. I dug latrines. I drank copious amounts of wheatgrass
juice. You know, I still don’t
understand why something so good for you, has to taste so nauseatingly
awful. In the evenings I sat around the
campfires catching up with old friends.
One of these was Anastasia. She was living, at that time, on some communal property just outside of Olympia;
and extended an invitation for Maya and me to spend the rest of the summer
there. Since I’d been planning to make
my way to Eugene, Ashland
and later the Redwoods, I figured it would make a great stopover.
It was a beautiful piece of land, full of statuesque Cedars
and meandering streams. There were
several unique structures built upon that property, all connected by footpaths. Anastasia and her roommate lived in a three
story-one room home with spiral stairs leading to a couple different landings
for sleeping. Another home can only be
described as a grounded-flying saucer. It was round with walls angling outward on the main floor, and then back
in for the second level bedroom.
My ability to stay was procured with a promise to work a
certain number of hours per week in the garden. We grew produce to sell at the local farmers market. So out I’d go each
morning with Maya strapped to my chest, to weed around artichokes and
garlic. My afternoons, I spent visiting
with others on the property, or heading in to Olympia
for supplemental groceries. The evenings
came early. I’d take a dip in the wood
fired cedar hot tub, as Maya slept a few feet away in
our van. Once soaked clean and content,
I’d curl up next to her to dream of turnip tops and treetop fairies.
We didn’t leave until the harvest was up and the weather had
begun to turn. It was a simple, sweet
summer. I was happy to have found new
friends, and for the memories I’d made. And as I headed south that September, I knew I’d always have some
special reflections to share with Maya about her first full season in my life.
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