If you’ve ever tried to cook for 15+ people during a week of political whiplash, rural unpredictability, and community-building exhaustion… then you already know what this post is about.
We had a ton of RSVPs for our July 3–5 land gathering. It was shaping up to be a beautiful, full event. But then came Trump’s July 4 statement—and understandably, that scared some folks. Travel plans shifted. A few people needed to pause. We get it. This is a volatile time, and safety matters.
But by the time all of that happened, we had already bought the food. All the food.
So for the past three days, my business partner and I have been cooking almost nonstop. Muffin loaves. Lasagnas. Ham. Sweet tea. Mashed potatoes (both lactose-free and lactose-full, because balance). Fried onions. Veggie trays. Homemade food, made with love—even if we’re running on fumes the whole time. We did it because we believe this kind of care still matters, especially when the world feels shaky.
And honestly? It has been chaotic. But it’s also been full of moments that reminded us exactly why we’re doing this.
To those who did show up—thank you. Deeply. You anchored this gathering with your energy, your stories, your quiet presence, and your willingness to be part of something still in the making. And to those arriving over the next few days: we can’t wait to welcome you.
This community isn’t just an idea anymore. It’s a growing, living thing. And there are other members already here—some local, some from afar—who are thrilled that progressive, diverse people are arriving. That we’re building something rooted in care and mutual respect instead of exclusion and fear.
And as the so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” tries to erase nonprofits like ours and silence communities like this one, we’re reminded that now is the time to stick together. The old systems aren’t coming to save us—but we can still save each other.
I’ll be writing a full wrap-up after this gathering—both a personal summary of what happened here and a breakdown of the Big Beautiful Bill itself: what it means, who it harms, and how we resist it together. That’s coming soon, once I’ve had a minute to sleep and reflect.
But for now: we’re here, we’re tired, we’re fed, and we’re still building. Even in the chaos. Especially in the chaos.
With love,
Carmen
SkyStone Vale / Unity Harbour
unityharbour.org | skystonevale.org
I'm over here trying to keep up with the substack and you're out there writing all of this, while cooking, and parenting.