Mommy Wears Osh Kosh

Way back when I was weird. I had days when I didn't want anyone to know and then days when I was unabashed and certainly not ashamed of being different. Until one day Mom and I were shopping in Traverse City and I fell in love with a pair of overalls. They were dark wash, loose fitting, and had a white star embroidered on the front bib. This particular pair was held up with strings that you tied in the back. They were just cool enough to not be too weird. Then, like most everything else, I made them weird. I dipped my hands in white paint and put hand prints all over them. I wore them to school and now I know what it's like to be the girl that maybe but maybe not is pulling that off... Looking back, getting audibly laughed at didn't bother me that day because I was in love with what I was wearing. I defended my outfit and thus defended myself. Those bibs were an expression of who I was and who I wanted to be. I wanted to be different and forge my own path and for whatever reason that morning, I was daring and willing to put myself out there.

I now have a new pair of overalls. These come straight from the closet of my 73 years young father-in-law. They are already broken in where they should be and the fit is loose enough to let the breeze in, if you catch my drift. Trust me, blackberry picking in 100 degree Georgia weather makes you appreciate a well placed breeze. I wear them around the 40 acres like I'm Tom Sawyer's niece on a mission. They're my full access wear. Once again, bibs are taking part as an expression of who I am today.

This outfit says it all. Well, all there is to say really of the past several months. This is how I have looked:

Tank Top: from my punk rock days, circa 2005ish

Bibs: Osh Kosh

Boots: hand me down

Hat: Husband's, from highschool

I Hit Rock Bottom With a Bang

Dear Me, My Best Friend + All Of My Imaginary Friends,

WE DID IT!

Love to You,

Ashley Marie

28th Year

You want to talk about a rough year? Nah. Well, maybe. I really want to tout my survival. Over these past 13 months I found out truths of lies that devastate me. I have found out things that made me want to turn my back on love and run for anywherebuthere. My picture perfect fresh start turned out to be anything but. How did I get to here? To today? How did I make it? I have something to say about maturity. Coming to terms with reality and taking responsibility is hard, especially when there are other lives complicating things but lives that also depend on your ability to be an adult. It's rough when you are really trying to muster up the courage to run to your mother and blow your cover of "Everything is great!" but it takes all of your energy to try desperately to shield your children from the stark realizations you are having. I feel as though I am the child in The Giver who has realized pain in the world for the first time. As a victim of several childhood abuses, I never thought I would suffer so vastly as an adult. I have spent my entire life fighting to not be an adult victim. However, as one dark day clouded the next and then the one after that went up in flames and then the one after that I lost completely... I have flashbacks of myself lying on the floor in a flood of tears and sorrow, I have flashbacks of myself pitching fits to rival Catherine Linton's, I have flashbacks of those times I tried to get out of life. I am a victim of not only my surroundings but my mind. With just enough support to keep my lifeless head out of the water, I have survived. As a plus, I survived with no visible scars and not a single {obvious} mental disorder. Yay Me!

How? That's a loaded question.

I guess realizing that where you are, no matter who's fault it is, doesn't matter nearly as much as who you are while you are there. You can either let your surrounding consume you or fuel you. I'll be damned if I give up and live like this for the rest of my life. Although, I would be remiss if I did not count the blessings that I receive that have given me a place to pull strength from. I not only have relationships to nurture to keep me alive but also a certainty of support in case I to need to rely on someone besides myself for protection from a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. That, ma' dears, is how I made it through.

"Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away."

Here, I wrote this:

As I look at myself in the mirror, it is as if I just woke from a sleep that relieved me of the past year. I have come to this place by way of an epic journey. The details are not as important as the success of endurance. Determination, blood sweat & tears, damned stubbornness, sheer willpower, and love have been my companions. I can see the effect these experiences have had on my age. Twenty eight years of thread have already spun a tapestry of such detail and story. This is the tale of the pretty girl in the trailer park.

Well, there's much to share and many ways and days to let it happen. Later.

On New Beginnings

I have been soooo busy. Too busy for the internet and trust me, I'm like you, so that's like, a big BIG deal. I have finally managed to throw a few bags overboard and now spend less time saving a sinking ship!

One of the things I've been working the most on is my farm. Not just the plowing, planting, and upkeep of the gardens (yes, plural) but the image, design, face, marketing, media presence, dreams, goals, plans, certifications, and morecrapIdon'twanttothinkaboutrightnow. All of this is a tad bit overwhelming. Today I decided to do what I do when I get overwhelmed: play. As usual I opened Pinterest and began to soak up as much inspiration as possible, which is usually a pretty entertaining adventure I enjoy. However, do you know what happened? I got hella discouraged. I saw all of these photos of gorgeously designed farms and read blogs of people who know more and are so much farther along all over the country. I saw people doing exactly what I wanted to be doing and they were doing it so well I didn't even want to bother being creative anymore. Um, kind of a reverse emotion to 'inspiration'. Somehow, I started to feel insignificant. I am so impatient and I want to be further along in my efforts of doing what we're doing. Plus, even though starting from scratch and getting to choose your path is liberating, it's also terrifying to those of you like me who just can't ever pick the BEST of the best of the BEST one, you know? "Where do we go from here?" has so many possibilities! I always seem to spoken to at just the right time:

Also, I read this post on Megan Gilger's blog: Staying Sane? and it helped put everything into perspective and give myself a freakin break. Just because I have not been able to do everything I want to do does not mean that I haven't gotten anything done. I am right where I want to be, I just have to keep going. Keep GOING. You're still #GSD. (BOOM! Look at me being all up to the what nots with the culture and all. Honestly, I am not sure how long I have been out of the loop but I just learned a few days ago what #GSD stood for. Wow.)

Then, I read this on HelloGiggles and it made me laugh: 

6 Signs You Are About To Have A Meltdown

Now I've accomplished something else, a blog post! Two, actually. You can check out what else I've been doing here: www.hillmanorfarm.blogspot.com. I'm about to completely revamp my sites, has anyone seen an up to date 'Bring Your Blog Up To Date' type post? I need help catching up on what I should be providing my readers. For reals.

xoxo

Life Happens

My goodness I have been overwhelmed! I managed to do what I do best: get myself swallowed up by life.

Brett and I still exist happily with our boys:

I found myself a job {a job that's perfect for a couple with 3 kids, starting a farm, and renovating a huge house} as a waitress. I love my job, I wake up for my shift and never hardly ever complain about having to go in because I get to look at gorgeous, creative things like this:

I work my hind end off for them when scheduling allows and in the meantime I work my hind end off renovating our house. It would be a lie to say we work off of a budget... because there isn't one. Although I suppose technically an extra $20 every couple of weeks would be a budget. What we lack in assets we make up for in elbow grease. We have managed to do an awesome chevron wall and mix and match our house full of eclectic furniture to get a comfy somewhat formal living room...flooring to be tackled next:

I'm not including photos of our hallway, bathroom, laundry room, kitchen, and den just yet. We knew our space allowed for us to entertain over the holidays so we went on a blitz and started one billion projects that all had to be done by NOW! Sigh. But at least I'm leaving you with something to look forward to! *muah*

Then there was a lot this:

Aiden Gray started Kindergarten and O'Ryan began 4th Grade! Thankfully we already had a routine in place for O'Ryan's homework hour that Aiden was able to slip right into. But man, can I just insert my Mommy B*tch in right here and say that I think it's ridiculous that a kindergarten student has homework? Or as much as he does? Needless to say though, I'm proud of my little one for excelling despite the fact that his father and I made the HORRIBLE decision (we were reminded over, and over, and over again about it) not to enroll him in Pre-K but to let his wild spirit be free for one more year? na na na na boo boo 

Then there's this mess of cuteness:

We also welcomed some new friends to our starter farm:

Well, we've been busy... and we will be busier, God willin' and the creek don't rise! If you would like, you can also find me on the blog I've started for the farm: www.hillmanorfarm.blogspot.com

Talk to you later!

Bye!