MY BLOG
country Wilderness Girl ~ foux fur hat - wild & free just having fun!
“courageously wild and free. a fierce Mama Bear. Deep thinker. wonderfully chaotic. artistic & creative designer & Builder. a perfectly put together mess.” ~ Descriptions from many
IN THE BEGINNING….
I was having a very difficult time trying to figure out my first post and then again my first blog on here. I guess because my story has so many chapters, But then again, don’t we all? My story isn’t an easy one to tell. There are numerous adventures, drama, exciting events, trauma, sadness, joys and survival. With all of this it’s shaped and molded me, and well, made me who I am. So this will unravel a little at a time. A little past, a little present and a little in to the future. So lets begin shall we?
My mama was born in Colorado. her family ended up in Minneapolis, MN area. Her Daddy, as I called him Bumpa, was a PE and English teacher. as soon as school got out on Memorial day they were running the Family Resort all summer near Ely, MN. My mom’s mama was very organized. She had each day for different things. Some said she was a little OCD. After having 3 kids of my own and 4 step kids, I feel she was just very organized. She had 4 kids. She was dearly loved and respected. Bumpa always waited until she sat down after making any meal and took the first bite. Even their 4 children and all of us grandchildren followed that respect. So my mom grew up a city/wilderness girl. She was the 2nd of four kids. She was sick a lot and much later in life found out why. But Bumpa was always there for her when she was so sick. He was a tough barrow tone voiced man that could tree a black bear, but he was a softie in his heart. My mom would hold my head and hair when I was so sick telling me it was Bumpa that did that for her.
My daddy was born in a small town in SW Wisconsin. He was the 3rd kid in a family of 5 kids. His Grandparents were living on the same farm his dad and mom were running. My dad walked to a little school house not to far from their farm. He was a wild child and my grandma used to tell us so many stories of how he was such a challenge. But he turned out to be a great guy. Grandpa was so patient and kind. He had a way with young people too. He died the day I turned 9 years old. There were lots of farm stories and Grandma worked the farm and the kitchen. She also spoiled us when she visited making us homemade noodles, indian fried bread, pizzas, donuts, cookies, and all kinds of good food. The stories were endless. she also was the best sport when it came to all the pranks I thought up and my brother and I played on her. Its so funny how I would never have dared to do such a think to my other grandma. I guess if she could handle my dad then we thought it was ok?
My mom and dad met. It was funny hearing their story… I will share sometime. But my mom always wanted kids of her own. She wanted me to wear lace and be all girly. When I was born i imagine I was like my 2nd kid Colten, we joke he was born standing up and held his head up looking around big eyed, and I was not much of a cuddly baby. I guess I was always looking around like what am I missing out on. So imagine the disappointment she felt when I would never sit still and how much I hated lace. To be fair… lacy undies and lace on clothing itched. I could not help but to wiggle. Anytime we were sitting and paying attention, I was Constantly being told to sit still and be quiet. Over time and right up to when I lost my dear mum… She loved me and let me know it. She was my biggest fan. She saw a lot of what we struggled with. She fought for me when up against bullys. My daddy too. He had my back when life got rocky or bad. My dad is and has been like a NorthStar or an anchor keeping us grounded. Keep trusting God.
Over time I will share what “Wild & Free” is to me. It is NOT acting crazy and out of control. That is not using your head. Or maybe it’s using your head unsafely like taking your one precious life and putting it in harms way with tremendous risks. It has nothing to do with being married or single. My husband keeps thinking it does. It’s more about being creative and having the freedom to create your ideas and the wild part of it is having the courage to strike out and make it happen. The ability to courageously take reasonable risks to have an idea and make a safe version happen. I was a different sort of wild before I had kids. I was sometimes a reckless wild. I was Sort of out of control wild at times. I would say wisdom has tempered that type of wild a bit as well as having young ones depend on you. After I had my kids I realized I am responsible for that gift and had to take care of them. Mostly alone. I needed to use more wisdom and reliance on God. I needed to adult up to allow my own kids to grow up. I took the fun route though. I worked hard to make fun. We did it mostly safely but with an adventure spirit. We tried to make fun happen. We had limited budget, limited sleep, limited energy and resources but for the most part we did some pretty fun things.
Here is where I plan to share what I do. I draw, paint, wood burn, design things to build and then build them I have a vision in my head, draw out on graph paper the old fashioned way and then get busy. I will share the past projects as well as new ones and the current one I am working on.
I have had many traumatizing or tragic things happen. They are part of me now and I deal with Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I will share over time how it’s affected me and how I am doing working through these experiences. What helps the most is my trust in God. My close relationship with him. How I have so much faith in him. But also my upbringing and my inner country wilderness that keeps me positive, going and looking for more reasons why I love life every day. Inside I am happy and positive. I look for lessons to learn from my experiences and those of others. I Look to the things beautiful happy and full of life. Just keep paddling, swimming, or grinning. Whatever your mantra is… just stand in that mirror… look yourself in the eyes… and say “You’ve got this!” ~ Country Wilderness Girl
act my age…
My Bumpa & I.
Act my age? Ya that’s right. This is what i’m learning about. I know without a doubt i take on way more than i can manage. I am young at heart but physically not as young as i once was. I have also had injuries that have taken their toll on my abilities. I am beginning to see that now. I have not been fearful until this last injury to my head. Now i am realizing how difficult life can be and from another recent injury before that living with constant pain. So now at about 1/2 a century why am i doing things like picking up dog sledding? I don’t know. well yes i do know, but it’s difficult to explain.
when i was a child i always wanted a dog but not just any dog. I actually wanted a wolf pup. I talked about them, dreamt about them and always on high alert in their environment in search of them. So much so that “wolfpup” became a nickname my dad and Bumpa called me. My Bumpa was my mom’s dad. I guess i could not say Grandpa so I called him Bumpa. He was called Bud by many so i guess it was a combo of Bud and Grandpa. So makes perfect sense to me as a little one… “Bumpa” Anyway, I would visit him at the Cabin and talk with him for hours about wolves. Sometimes upstairs, sometimes in the basement while he was Wood burning and doing art on wood. I have a painting of wolves he did for me specifically. He would often chuckle at me, out on the dock watching northern lights in the evening howling trying to get the wolves to answer. The first time they did he came out those basement doors and we had this special bond at that moment. I don’t remember my age. But I know it was a love of ours. Then i was obsessed. I was always trying to find a way to get a wolf pup. We went to the Ely, MN International wolf center and it was just barely up and running with the basics nothing like it is today. and there they were. Little wolf pups. From that moment on I would daydream of myself running through the wilderness forest as the sun beams would refract the light and along side of me was my wolf. My imaginary friend I had was either a snowman or a wolf. My bedroom walls were plastered with posters of puppies and wolf pups. I learned about dogsledding, Siberian huskies, husky wolf mixes of Various percentages, Alaskan Huskies, and Malamutes. I remember one time around 16 years old in Arizona visiting family and reading the classifieds in their paper and saw numerous adds about Hybrid wolfdogs. I was obsessed. I think i drove my daddy and all around me nuts. I could not get enough info about them. I read Bumpa’s books about them at the cabin. Any photo of them stopped me in my tracks. I read his Louis Lamour books. watched Westerns, and anytime there were wolves i’d go into a state of dreamland. Then there were the Movies. my favorite became “the Journey of Natty Gann”. So that is aging me right? White Fang and so many more. I went into a dream phase. I was so absorbed. I wanted a wolf. Because I felt just like them. I felt Misunderstood. I felt picked on. I felt loved by family. I had ideas. I wanted one to get to know and to be close to. But the more I learned about animals in general the less I did i actually want one. I decided that they should be kept free. They should have their spaces and we just be trees observing them and allowing them to do their job. Now if they came up and wanted to befriend me i would fall hard and fast. They are amazing creatures. I wrote a poem and if i feel adventurous i will share it also on here…Let me know in comments if i dare. ~ Country Wilderness Girl
