Ode to 5305 Chez Levy circa 1948

Our old house, dubbed "Chez Levy" on a dinner party menu I made years back, was built in 1948. It is no longer ours but I had to capture its essence in photos before we left it--as best as I could--that is, if it's even possible to photograph those parts of us that stay behind in grace and beauty and color and style.   Every inch of brush stroke and corner cleaned to our satisfaction. Every window dressing something discussed and decided upon. Every color chosen carefully. Every repair done skillfully with loving hands to maintain our investment. Every inch cleaned with a commitment to keeping things nice.  Every foot of acreage seeping with Nathan's environmental stewardship and love for the land and nature. 

The furniture is no longer there but part of us--and everyone who entered its space--remains. This was not what one might call a fancy home, ah, but such a real one! Filled with love and parties and friends and caring and sharing. A home that supported us as entrepreneurs, lending itself as an administrative office for a training business, a studio for artistic endeavors, cottage industry home cooking, a center for education in diverse healthful subjects, and a distribution center for healthy locally grown food by St. Petersburg urban farmers. This home was privy to tough subjects, mournful tears, warming hugs, and friends who met there and remain good friends to this day. This home was a meeting place for such a wide variety of people who may never have met if this home had not opened its doors and welcomed all who entered.

Here is my Ode to Chez Levy... in all its nakedness... and ours.

Raccupine Farms

A visiting friend recently made me think of a story that I published in another blog of mine called Raccupine Farms back in 2010.  The post was written a little over a year after being "managed out" of my corporate job when I turned fifty-five.  My spirit was broken and I was burned out from six months of unethical practices of abuse-- albeit normal, I've heard from other survivors-- from my managers. Looking back, I had no business being in that particular corporate structure. I am an empath NOT a barracuda. It had been a painful year and I was still recovering from exhaustion and the trauma of rejection.

Our marriage was twelve years old at that time, neither of us had made it that long in other relationships, and I was feeling introspective on the wonderful transition that began for me when Nathan came into my life and into this house. 

Almost ten years have passed and I will let the piece speak for itself. It gives me joy to revisit it and celebrate how we have come through hard times and still managed to heal each other with our love for one another.

https://raccupinefarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/dirt-composting-and-love.html