But the land...

 

You talked a lot about the house and buildings falling into disrepair.  At this time, those have nothing to do with me.  That house falling down is a testament to your father and how he has lived his life.  

But the land... that will be a testament to how I have lived MY life.  I was led to that land in 2011.  I was 36 years old and I had developed my higher listening enough to hear the call, and I listened.  I took a risk.  I walked away from my nursing career, rented out my house to pay the mortgage, (preventing it from falling into disrepair), and within a year and half I was living there full time. 

That land saved my life.  I met God. Through that land I developed my personal, intimate relationship with God.  The house was saturated with the pain and fear of your father and the people who had lived there with him in the past.  

But the land... the longer that land goes untouched, the more valuable it becomes.  And it’s not the kind of value your appraisal would determine.  Our material world cannot measure the value of a piece of the earth.  Part of what makes that specific 120 acres so special is the devastation that surrounds it.  I will be the one to steward that land into the future, the way it should be.  I own that land and it is worth more than you or even your father can understand and it is none of your business.

Have you contacted Margi about the big White House at Jake’s falling into disrepair?  That seems similar to the concern you contacted me about yesterday.  I think that is a reasonable question and I would like an answer.  

My intention is not to be snarky.  It feels good to be sure.  Talking with you yesterday helped me to feel sure.  It is very sad to see the house and buildings in the condition they are in.

  But the land... the land becomes more beautiful and offers more exquisite value every single day that it is allowed to rest.

I am going to rest also and trust.  Things are always working out for me and I hold a grand vision for that land.  

So my proposal right now, is to take no action.  

I am very open to continuing the conversation with you.  I have a lot of questions and would love to hear your ideas if you feel inclined to share.

Why do you care if the house and buildings fall into disrepair?  Do you also care that the house and buildings at Jake’s have fallen into disrepair?

Why does it matter to you if the land goes into foreclosure?

I feel confident that it won’t, but why do you care, since you think that it will?

Thank you again for talking with me and I look forward to continuing this or any conversation.

Love,

Kari

dulcimer

 

Two sober drunks are sitting at their Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.  They’ve been going to the same meetings for years and enjoy each other’s company.  Two years ago the one that teaches art at a nature center welcomed the other’s new girlfriend and her son into three different art classes over the winter.  A few weeks ago as they visited before another AA meeting, the proud step-dad showed a video to the art teacher.  It’s the boy from the art classes playing the hammered dulcimer.  

 “How old is he?”

“He’s 9 years old now.”

Step-dad was just proud.  He was just simply celebrating this little man and the joy and love of music.  He knew the art teacher would enjoy seeing another artist, especially one she had a relationship with.  Two sober drunks casually sharing their lives, being friends.

The art teacher commented,  “Well I was wondering who I was going to give my dulcimer to”.

A few days later, he arrives at our house with the boy’s very own hammered dulcimer.  

A gift, from a friend.  

The boy’s gift to her was to receive her instrument and bring life back to it.

God uses all things for good.  Being a drunk is ugly and hurtful.

Being sober is beautiful and brave.

Being sober opens up one’s heart to receive God’s Love flowing through you right into other people to bless them beyond what you’re capable of alone.

One can’t be sober until one has been a drunk.

gentle world

 There is the option of preserving his youth and innocence as long as possible.

Yes, he will grow into a world of cuss words and gun shootings, but for now,

I am suggesting the option of allowing him youthful ignorance of those things.

I think it's lovely to support him in his rejection of the word "Hell". 

What's wrong with agreeing that it is an inappropriate word?  

I like the idea of him being soft and gentle for now.  You say that I am modest and that you like that about me.  I like that the child is gentle enough to reject the word "Hell", even if it is the name of a town.  He will be a man soon enough and then he can cuss and make crude jokes, but let's not rush it or encourage him to use the word Hell when he's actively trying to shy away from it.

I like to imagine the world and our human society moving towards more kindness and that means considering options that may seem a bit odd or unusual.  Things that have become usual in our society are not necessarily things that I want to be usual in his future. 

Like the idea of carrying a gun and shooting another driver.

Or pairing off with a girl.  

That does not need to be suggested and talked about as if it is inevitable.

He's a young child without the hormonal changes to even produce hair on his body, he does not need to be encouraged by a father-figure in his life to pair off with a female.  

I want to allow him to bask in the innocence of youth and just enjoy humans, whether they are male or female.  I heard you speaking to him about the boy you picked for Fiona and now you just need a girl for him.

Your point of view is normal and common.  I'm suggesting that we step outside of the normal, accepted view and create a different world.

This may require you holding your tongue.  You may imagine pairing him off with a pretty girl, but just not say anything to him about it.  

That is an option.

Just to be considered.

To create a different world going forward.

Quite a few options for a visit.

 

My child spending time with his dad is important to me.  I stood back and watched God move all the pieces around until an easy visit was peacefully arranged recently, March 26.  I took Mateo to Austin Road and after 3 nights there, just as we had discussed, a good man named Charlie brought my child home to me on March 29th.  

My child’s father has many options for visiting with his son.  I am happy to drive Mateo 70 miles to his dad’s farm and leave him there for a time.  All we need is a respectable person to drive the return trip. Or, if I was confident the visit would end gracefully, I would drive down and pick Mateo up.  Right now, I do not trust that Miguel will allow me to bring my child home.  So miguel needs to find a driver to make the return trip.  A driver that Mateo and I are both comfortable with.  

He has suggested that his friend Gracie drive Mateo, or Gracie’s partner Tim.  I do not trust Gracie because she has been unwilling up to this point, to take responsibility for her actions regarding a threat she extended me some time ago.   When papa suggested that Gracie drive Mateo, I wanted to explain why I was not accepting that offer so I told Mateo that papa’s friend Gracie had threatened me and then denied that she had sent that text message.  My child is not comfortable riding with Tim because he only knows Tim through Gracie.  Papa also suggested that his neighbor K make the return trip with Mateo and this is another person that threatened to use the law against me to force his own idea of reasonable visitation.  

There are many people in papa’s neighborhood that regularly drive people for money.  Similar to an Uber driver for the Amish.  To make the return trip with Mateo, Papa could hire one of these people to drive, none of whom has ever threatened me or has any interest in our visitation schedule.  I would feel comfortable that a person like that would just drive the van as arranged and Mateo’s visit with his dad would end gracefully, like it did when Charlie brought him home to me.  

miguel suggested that his friend Suzie from Rebel farm do the driving and I agreed to that, as long as Mateo was comfortable with it.  We have also agreed that Bob and Linda, or David and Donna could drive.  There are many people that attend the church a mile and a half from the farm that know miguel through Mateo’s and my long and consistent attendance there.  If miguel had developed relationships with any of these people they could drive to help him enjoy a visit with his son.  I have agreed that his daughter Grace could drive.  I have tried to develop a relationship with his son Isaiah and have not received reliable communication that builds the trust needed to allow my child to ride with him.  I hope to see this change as time goes on.  Our friend Janice picked Mateo up and brought him to me at the end of a previous visit.  Miguel has not contacted her about helping him see his son.  

The purpose of writing this down is as usual, to make myself feel better, and also to have this information public.  A few days ago when I spoke to Miguel’s friend Tim, he said that he thought miguel should hire a lawyer and subject Mateo to a DNA test in order to force the issue of what he believes are reasonable custody and visitation rights for miguel.  Miguel then called me and said that he was going to get a lawyer and somehow force Mateo to visit with him.  So it just feels better to have all this information out in public for anyone to see.  Miguel says he doesn’t understand why I won’t agree to G, T, or K driving Mateo.  I hope that maybe someone reading this could explain it to miguel.  Or someone could encourage him to pursue any of the other options mentioned above for arranging a visit with his son.  My child spending time with his dad is important to me. 

Continue reading for details about:

How previous visits have not ended gracefully

Last time we visited papa, as Mateo sat in the backseat, miguel punched me in the face as I was reaching down from the passenger seat to the ground to retrieve my bag that papa had pulled out of the car. 

This is not a criticism of papa, it's just what happened.

The time before that, at the end of a two week visit with his papa, when it was time for my child to come with me, his mother, there was a note from miguel taped to the door of his empty house, telling me to go on my way without the child.

This is not a criticism, that is just what happened.  

https://teetsforpeace.blogspot.com/2024/03/how-can-he-spend-time-with-his-dad.html

https://teetsforpeace.blogspot.com/2023/08/driving-from-bryan-oh-amtrak-station-to.html

Or

Gracie’s text message

Papa talks about me in such a way that one person he chooses to spend a great deal of time with, sent me a text message, threatening to call the police, accusing me of 6 specific illegal activities.  This text message, and papa’s ongoing relationship with this person, demonstrates the way papa feels about me and what he believes should happen to me.  He tells people that I have committed illegal activity and I should have the authorities involved to punish me for my behavior.  I have asked a few times for papa and this person to clear up the issue so that we can move forward with you visiting papa, free of the idea he raised about me being accused and turned in to the police.  Papa and his companion have both refused to acknowledge the text message.  I am not going to allow my child to spend time away from me, with a person that creates this situation of threat and accusation, and then refuses to clean it up.  It could be cleaned up.  

Text message from papa’s companion to me:

"you have abandon a property -- which is illegal.

Take a child away from their father without consent -- illegal.

You have made threats against peoples lives -- illegal.

What you are doing to Miguel is extortion, elderly abuse and straight up theft ... taking all the money from the cows -- from his herd.  

You are out of line and I hope you step foot back in hillsdale county.  

I pray for Mateo's safety.  If he had a SS# I would already called the cops & so would many others.  You are not in control here.  "

https://teetsforpeace.blogspot.com/2023/03/yes.html

How can he spend time with his dad?

     I am not an ex-wife complaining about her ex-husband.  I am a woman, a mother, working 24 hours a week at $17 / hr to pay for her child's dental health and repair.  I am a woman working 5 days a week as a live-in nanny, trading near 24 hour child care for room and board for my family.   The last time my child stayed with his dad for two weeks, he didn't brush his teeth one time.  That is not a criticism of the dad's care and attention of his son.  That is the truth of what happened.  

Another question surrounding my child spending time at his dad's farm involves the time when the visit is over.  The time when my child leaves papa and comes with me, his mother.  

Last time we visited papa he ended up punching me in the face as I knelt on the passenger seat of my vehicle, reaching down to the ground to retrieve my bag that papa had thrown out of the car. 

This is not a criticism of papa, it's just what happened.

The time before that, at the end of a two week visit with papa, when it was time for my child to come with his mother, there was a note from papa taped to the door of his empty house, telling me to go on my way without the child.

This is not a criticism, that is just what happened.  

I would like my child to spend time with his dad.  I'm not sure how that can happen without an ugly scene taking place at the end of any visit.  I believe in time, some trust can be rebuilt, but for now, based on the uncomfortable partings that have occurred, I don't know how to have my child spend time at his dad's house.  

The idea of having papa come here to visit the child for a day seems like a wonderful way for them to see each other.  That's why I wrote to Bob and Linda, requesting that they bring their friend miguel up here.

I am open to ideas based on the actual circumstances of what has occurred so far.  

Sad?

 “What day is it?”  

“Saturday.”

“Have I asked you what day it is?”

“No, its Saturday.” 

  “Ok”, looking at watch.  "What are we doing for dinner tonight?"

Ninety-two year old woman, a widow, her husband dead 14 years, lives alone in her apartment in a building for seniors.  Alone, except for the hired girls that take twelve hour shifts with her, eight in the morning to eight at night.  Then a different girl comes and stays until the next morning at 8am.  Over and over again, seven days a week.  The hired helpers are there to get her meals, help her dress and undress, make sure her gait belt is in place so they have something sturdy to hang on to as the woman loses her balance and tips backwards.  The girls get paid to answer her questions, “what day is it?  what are we doing for dinner?  what day is it?  are we going downstairs for dinner?  what day is it?”.  They are paid to do her laundry and take her toothbrush from her hand, gently and quietly placing a comb in her hand so she may continue combing her hair with that, instead of the toothbrush. 

      At meals in the tiny apartment, the woman makes eye contact and offers a muted smile, the unrecognition naked in her eyes as she asks me, like she has every Saturday for the past two months, “are you a student here?” She can be sweet and kind, offering phrases about how she’s glad I’m here to keep track of things and how she needs me to find her way back to her apartment.  Sometimes she seems upset as she testily asks if I am sure there’s no dinner in the dining room tonight or what that noise is as the dryer spins her clean clothes round and round.  I get paid to focus and breathe and maintain my peace and allow Love to flow through me while I care for this woman who lives her life as a human being in a different way than she used to live her life.  She was a writer and a social organizer.  A celebrated and award winning volunteer for the very senior community she now lives in with her twenty-four-seven caregivers.  

It works out as a beautiful story for me and my family.  The wages I am paid to care for her allow us to have a safe, reliable vehicle to drive around.  Because she can’t remember what day it is and occasionally tips over on her feet, I was able to secure a loan to pay for my car.

Who am I to say what is sad or wrong in the world?

Hot cup of tea

  Hot cup of tea.  Feels like luxury.  Nourishing.

I have had warm tea and it is good, but a hot cup of tea feels luxurious.  

I took the time to make a space in my day that allows the hot cup of tea to be savored, enjoyed, sipped while sitting down,

Gazing out the window at the early morning light decorating a winter sky.  

Hot cup of tea.  

You are not something my body needs, like my mouth needs a good brushing in the morning, to feel good.  

You, my hotness, you are something I want.  I want to lavish myself with Love early in the morning and this hot cup of tea

fills that desire.  

Pick the place, seat cushions, coaster, pen and notebook or chair at table with computer, good lighting,

Oooohhhhh a candle!  

Yes, hot cup of tea wants a candle to partner in providing lavish luxury to this particular beautiful woman.

Yes, sitting in the morning quiet house with a candle flickering against the cup of hot tea in my hand.  

I am loved. 

  There is perfection.  

It is my choice.