Narnia, Chapter III

Beauty and the Chronicles of Narnia, the Other

Chapter III

*Building It*

 Many years earlier, way before this story takes place and during the first month after Popsi Blui and the mom had met, they had a revelation, a strong insight, and a mutual epiphany, regarding what their future together might entail.

It happened, as I remember, for I have long been watching these individuals, late during a warm, moonlit night, up in the Jemez Mountains of New Mexico, and after a soak in a secluded, natural hot springs. The couple, often acted giddy together (they were so cute), and felt grateful for having found true love, and imagined their future lives. Their longings were remarkably similar. “We must return to the land.” That dream, that vision, propelled and encouraged and made its way forward over the next seven years into the reality we are seeing today in this story…digging the foundation trench in the hard clay dirt of a far Northern land, 1500 miles from where they had the original vision. Their journey had them living in New Mexico, Colorado, Florida, Vermont, Wisconsin, and Newfoundland, Canada. They had searched, planned, worked to save funds, all the while raising one, then two, children as well. Always being true to “We must return to the land” as their theme song, their mantra. What makes a dream become a reality? Steadfast attention. Creativity. Ambitious youthful enthusiasm. And not giving up, no matter what obstacles may fall in the way of your path.

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Once the trench had been dug, cement for the foundation was mixed with water at the bottom of the high hill. Water had to be procured from a helpful neighbor a couple of miles up the road as there was no water on the land except for what was later saved in the rain barrel. They filled many five gallon buckets with water, secured them to the flatbed, and the little green tractor pulled them back to the land. After mixing the cement and water together in a cement boat at the bottom of the hill, they shoveled it into the buckets, and Popsi Blui drove them up to the site. The tractor looked to me like a bucking bronco, the front end bouncing up and down as it struggled to climb the high hill. It was all I could do with my tiny body and the flapping of wings to keep holding down the front end so it wouldn’t flip over. You see, I was beginning to become involved with the affairs of mankind, something I had been cautioned against doing. It took many trips and many buckets of wet concrete to fill the 80 feet of open trench. After a week, that part was complete. They all waited in anticipation for the concrete to thoroughly dry and harden.

It was about this time they had their first visitors! The mom’s parents arrived and they were overjoyed to see them, toured them around to witness the progress, and thankfully, give themselves a bit of respite from all the hard work. There is a special bond that happens between grandparents and their grandchildren. Some say it is because both are closer than the parents to that place where all life comes from and where all life returns. The children are young, and the grandparents are old. The old ones can also delight in all the various antics of the children because it generally is not their responsibility to discipline, and, without having to hold the kids accountable, naturally, a certain harmony is enjoyed by both. The kids can relax a bit!

Those dear grandparents stayed the night at the motel in Drummond, about five miles away. The Black Bear Inn. That title was not just from the fanciful imagination of its owner, but because black bears were indeed very populated in the area, and quite famous indeed. The range of each bear’s territory is 50 miles, and they were very good and fast travelers. And they had their preferred trails. Wouldn’t you know, the little family’s forty acres was situated right along their route!

And so it happened the next morning, very early when the mist was still floating through the trees creating an eerie, hushed landscape, the mom awoke to some scuffling noises. Very out of the ordinarily quiet presence. She sat up and looked out of the crack in the tent’s front opening. What she saw shook off what was left of her sleep in an instant, and she struggled to believe the testimony of her own eyes. For 20 feet away was a big ol’ bear, standing on back legs and batting at a little insulated bag hanging from a tree branch which the grandparents had forgotten to take with them. There must have been something tasty inside…maybe a sandwich or a banana…that the mama bear, for she was indeed a female, wanted.  Bears’ sniffing abilities are legend. She kept hitting it with her giant paw, but it was well secured and wasn’t coming down.

The mom urgently shook Popsi Blui awake. She pointed. He understood at once and loaded a round into the chamber of his rifle. The abrupt sound of metal on metal alarmed the bear and she hastily galloped away and out of sight.

The unnerving incident, but now past, made for great storytelling when the kids woke up and when the folks returned again for the day visit. The kids were excited and wonderstruck to hear of it. The grandparents, not so much.

For they loved their family and did not want any harm to come their way. And, because they were very wise,

they opted to never voice their concerns out of great respect and wanting to maintain a peaceful relationship. They knew their daughter, who had been a free spirit since childhood and had already lived an adventurous life without undo consequence, would take offense.  

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Once the cement had hardened, further building began in earnest.  The logs which had been stacked to dry the previous summer, were each hauled over to be placed, one on top of the other, to create the walls. Both children took on helpful tasks. They sat on one end of the log, as their weight kept the log from rolling, while Popsi Blui hacked out the notches, both ends, and top and bottom. This process was tedious as the saddle notches needed to fit each other perfectly, and required much effort in getting it right. By using two different sized chainsaws and a hand-held log notch gouge and an adze, the walls gradually climbed higher and higher. Beauty and Sunwood clapped in glee as the structure magically began to take shape, right before their eyes.

The mom, initially not much of an exercise or work-out person, was impressed by the gradual growth of discernible muscles developing on her arms and all over her back as she helped carry logs, albeit the smaller end, over from the drying area. Girls like to have muscles, too!

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The weeks went by. Then the months. The noseeums came, the mosquitoes, the black flies, the deer flies…biting insects all…came to do their thing. Late August performed perfectly as all the biters miraculously vanished. As time went by, August each year became the only month which was sweetly remembered and longingly looked forward to!

Some days and nights it rained hard and all hunkered down inside the tent, listening to the mom or Popsi Blui read stories from The Narnia Chronicles, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie, and all of the George MacDonald’s books, like The Princess and the Goblin, and, usually before bed, The Hobbit, and, certainly, always, Bedtime for Francis.

These intense months further bonded the little family. I saw it all to be very sweet indeed, how they depended on each other and gave support. Watching their lives was emotionally moving, and I was somewhat envious, in a way, and sometimes desired to be in a human body myself. I was happy, however, to not have to put up with so many of their physical inconveniences!

Here in the woods, forty years before, none of the usual distractions of life as experienced in the city existed. And just like in the pioneer days, folks had to entertain themselves and each other with stories and the sharing of the day’s events. Somehow this activity, as it has always been since humans began to think and share, helps one make sense of one’s life and to put things in order. Stories from personal past experience or those of other’s, stories of hopes and concerns, give shape to the human condition. In the current culture of today, however, through the miraculous advancements of technology with its virtual communication, there is little sense of personal connection, of community, and family closeness is quite disrupted. Parents who are aware of the risk, have to work extra hard to maintain a strong familia bond. As the shallow and superficialness of social media becomes the “community,” family bonding as we once knew it, has been eroded.

I was learning much about physicality and humanness and the many complexities that exist.