I used to joke with Colin that I could make soup from stones, and in the early days of our marriage while we he was building his career and I was leaving mine to become a stay-at-home mom, that soup-from-stones thriftiness helped to get us through. The ability of mine to make the most of what we had came from the life I had growing up and being raised by my mom and dad who had shunned their traditional upbringings and chose to lead a very unconventional life.
In 1967, Gypsy and Joaquin (my parents), met while walking down the street in Soulsbyville, California. Gypsy’s outfit was a bra and underwear and Joaquin was immediately interested. They hit it off and began a life that began with a lot of socializing in Marin County and San Francisco, living in communes, and eventually led to Joaquin building a home for our family on the back of an old truck which my family would come to call the “Gypsy Wagon”. On July 18, 1970, Gypsy was pregnant and in labor and Joaquin pulled the Gypsy Wagon down a dirt road in California and up to an old cabin in the woods. Joaquin would play the role of Doctor and my five year old sister would play the role of Nurse. This is how I came into the world.
We spent years in the Gypsy Wagon, traveling the U.S., Canada, and Mexico, living in more communes and more and more off the grid, eventually settling at Croy Gulch, California for a while and then ultimately deep in the mountains outside of Yreka, California where my dad built our cabin and outbuildings by hand, using lumber he milled from the logs on our land.
In the younger years, I enjoyed the huge parties my parents would throw, the potlucks, and living off the land. But as I grew older and around fifth grade, the isolation began to be really difficult for me. When school ended for the summer, I’d say goodbye to my friends knowing I wouldn’t see them again until the fall. We had no phone, television, running water, plumbing, or electricity and were completely shut off from the world, with the exception of a radio.
It was my version of an involuntary isolation and began years of introspection and struggle for me. I wondered why I was born into this life and started to realize my views on the world were very different from my mom and dad’s. I’d spend countless hours looking at photo albums of my parent’s childhoods and couldn’t understand why they would leave their traditional upbringings to choose this life of struggle and isolation.
But during this time, I found strength in myself and taught myself things that would bring me joy. Sewing on a treadle sewing machine, baking when ingredients would allow, exploring our land, and building little villages from twigs and bark where I would dream of my future life. A life that I would choose.
When our current mandatory isolation due to Covid 19 took effect, I couldn’t help but think about the children who might feel a bit like they are on their own at home while out of school and might be facing difficult circumstances and the families who are struggling with loved ones who are ill and stretched finances. All of this made me withdraw from posts that I would normally do, like projects in the home we’ve been building, and so on. The way I understand how this quarantine has affected me is that it brings back difficult memories of mine and because I’m on strong footing in my life now, I have a bit of survivor’s guilt, if that makes sense.
Instead, I want to try and focus on bringing out my soup-from-stones mentality. So, while we’re under mandatory isolation, I’m going to periodically post about happy little things that come from not much but are filled with love and hope and are things inspired by what that little girl Serena learned along the way.
In the meantime, trees are beginning to bloom and branch clippings make the most beautiful arrangements, like this one. See you soon. Love, me
IT'S ME, SERENA!
I bounced through the first years of my life in a hippie gypsy wagon, hand-built by my father, wandering the back roads of the U.S., Canada and Mexico. My family eventually settled into a tiny cabin in the woods on property that was once inhabited by Native American Indians.
I spent my childhood days searching for arrowheads, teaching myself to sew on a treadle sewing machine and to bake in a wood-burning stove, with no running water, refrigeration, or electricity in our home. My family lived frugally and early on, inspired by my parent’s thriftiness and style, I gained a knack for thrifty creativity and turning ordinary objects into something useful. And I dreamed of the home I would create for my own family someday.
Now I’m married to my husband, Colin, and our children are all grown. After 24 years of producing The Farm Chicks Vintage & Handmade Fair, I'm spending time visiting other markets around the world. You can watch episodes of Serena Goes to Market here.
I share more about my life story from time to time, here on my blog. You can also find me on Instagram, and Facebook.
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Dear Serena, I love reading about your childhood. I was a hippie the same time your parents were living their dream and hippies also. For me it was the best time ! Freedom! Acceptance!
Thank you a glimpse into your life .
Love kerry
We are all such a puzzle of our past experiences. Thank you for sharing more of yourself. I hope we emerge from the isolation with more compassion, kindness, and love. Proud to be a Washingtonian, leading the way against Covid-19.
xoxo
Kerry, I love that the hippie era was such a dear time for you. I have always admired your positivity. Much love.
We are all such a puzzle of our past experiences. Thank you for sharing more of yourself. I hope we emerge from the isolation with more compassion, kindness, and love. Proud to be a Washingtonian, leading the way against Covid-19.
xoxo
Judy, I love your words and hope for the same when we emerge. Much love and hope.
Hi Serena! Thank you for writing your story! I’ve wanting to say something about the similarities of your childhood and mine but I always think it’s kind of silly to compare. Today I thought you might find it interesting though. ????????♀️ My parents were raised in very middle class America type households and my dad decided he was a ‘damn the man’ type of guy at an early age. After a brief time of living in somewhat normal circumstances, my dad moved us all to the the woods outside of Glacier National Park. We lived in a shack of a house and had no toilet, running water, electricity, etc. Food was always hit or miss and we rarely saw anyone outside our family of 5. I still struggle with a lot of feelings related to those early, formative years. Anyway, that’s part of my story and it makes me feel a little better to know I share similarities with such a cool, resourceful lady. 🙂 Hugs to you!
Ashley, Thanks so much for reaching out. I am so happy to meet you and hear your story. There’s such a kinship I feel with others who have experienced similar upbringings. I’d love to connect. Much love.
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Serena. I remember reading a little bit about your childhood some time ago; I’d all but forgotten about it. It’s funny to think that at your young age, you could have experienced this. It almost sounds like a story my gramma would have told me when I was a little girl. Stay safe… I look forward to seeing you at Farm Chicks. <3
Hi Patty, It’s nice to hear from you. I look forward to seeing you again on the other side of all of this. Much love.
Hi Serena, I think I may have met your family back in the 70’s. I grew up in a little town called Milton-Freewater, OR. A family lived/stayed down by the Walla Walla river in a vehicle that looked like the one pictured. I remember a boy, that was in my class, maybe your brother? He was a quiet one, but I remember he had a sachel for a lunch bag. I do not know if it was your family or not, but reading this sure took me back to my childhood.
thanks,
Debbie Eide
Hi Debbie! I wonder if that was our family. We definitely spent some time in Oregon. Thanks for sharing your memory. Hugs, Serena
Hi Serena,
I think we knew each other! Carolyn Z posted your article on the Riv FB page. My mom Virginia and your mom Gypsy were friends. I recently was in email contact with her about Father Bill-one of my trips back to California was in his bus. We drove to California when I was 5 in a 1946 Chevy Panel Truck. I was born in a house in Berkeley in 1966. I loved reading your blog although I was sad to hear you had such isolation as a kid…especially at a time when forming ones self is so dependent on their peers. The isolation in covid has been hard on my teens, the youngers took it better. Love to be in touch if you are so inclined. Warmly, April
Hi April,
Thank you for reaching out. I love that our moms were friends. Thinking of you and wishing you well.
Hugs,
Serena