Taking Stalk

The days are winding down, the road of 07 is just about to end...the places I went! The places I'll still go on my meandering trip here in a few days. An educational trip it will be...oh the poor people I'll run into-I'll probably leave 'em scratching their heads,"Huh?! What was that all about? That lady just kicked JimBob's butt in pool, made him cry-and then he thanked her!" Or "Good Lord that gal can eat, her legs must be hollow-where'd she put it all?!" And most hopefully-"Sure was good to meet you!" Don't worry you all-the pics I'll snap should be a story every one, and the story...well, it won't be of the big fish variety. I try to be true, every word-sometimes my measurement of this world's wonder is more expansive than some, but...that is just how I see it, multi dimensional.
Now back to the places I went in 07:

Stayed in the Heartbreak Hotel for awhile, a permanent residence for some, not for me.

Grew a life with more manure than the experts say is healthy. Gotta do something with B.S though.

Watched the people I love shine brighter than they had in a loooong time-had to wear shades around 'em.

Caught a realllly big fish, had to put him back for awhile-he was big as could be, it was I that needed to grow a bit...

Sat underneath the darkest sky many nights, but the stars that penetrated that darkness were the brightest I'd ever seen.

Learned more from the weeds growing through the cracks of cement out my back door than I did from anything else I cultivated.

Found out that ice and snow flows in some people's veins...and no matter what you do to warm them up, they still remain frozen.

Love of money is the root of all evil, and some times the branches,twigs and leaves to.

Figured out how to squeeze 28 hours out of a 24 hour day.

Listened to and loved opera for the first time-hell, I don't even know what they're saying half the time, but it moves me.

Met my all time favorite number one band since I was 16 years old-THE OZARK MOUNTAIN DAREDEVILS...oh my! I could not contain my joy, no sireee I did not-whooped and hollered most magnificently. And met some wonderful fellow whoopers and hollerers too.

Pondered the meaning of life, every day. I know all I need to know for now, and that adds up to a thimble full. Much more to learn, or forget...

Had a dear lady shine her light on me, and BAM- I was illuminated, everything I perceived to be invisible(including myself)took shape, and glowed!

Pissin' and moanin', bitchin' and groanin' is like sitting in a rocking chair expecting to take a trip...you ain't going no where.

And now...this is where David Letterman should step in-The number one permanent impression left on me by the year 2007: (drum roll please....)

Life can be lonely and life can be sweet, you can pick alot of roses but the thorns will make you bleed, you must roll with the change, and grow with all the strife...just do what you have to in this game we call life.
And that's love.

Forever true...take care-



***the rainbow pic on previous post is one of miss lil's-she is a perceptive little artist in residence here, i often borrow her images for this spot.***

True grit

Good Morning to you und you und you...Went to confession last night (Grandma's house)-felt like airing my soul out, guess I needed to. And she needed some chores done-I felt like I should put everything on hold to aid her, because-well, I'm a good person. Just kidding, my house is a mess after the "Big Day", and my priorities shifted real quick when she called, I was more than happy to attend to her needs and leave mine wholly undone. We got to talking, me mostly-and we shared what only women share between them-this lady is an independent one, always has been. She use to scare me, for you did not want to make this one mad-she could reduce you to a puddle with a stern glare, you did not want to go beyond that glare...total evaporation of what one might feel is a childish right to screw up now and then. Ha! She'd set you straight and nail you like a ten penny. Anyway, she's a hero of mine, I like her more everyday, and I love her like no other. We have to attend a memorial Saturday and well, we don't want to go really...we don't do sad well. But the service is in honor of a beauty, a lady who remained so all her life, top of the tree type-so for her and her young un' we will go. And dress the part. Grandma at such and such an age...cleans up real good, and I look so unfamiliar dressed up that, well...most people comment. "Geez, look at you! Didn't recognize you!" Then I get all red in the face and pretend like I'm a natural grown woman, and I start to make weird noises that sound alot like excuses, look at my hands alot, notice my nails aren't quite as clean or manicured as a ladies should be, shove my hands in my pocket and start to whistle. "Oh, there you are!" They say, now they notice me, only a bit more decorated but still Terry, the tomboy. And my dad will go too, he's driving-he's a tough old tender bird, and he'll cry-the man would rather fall out of a tree stand than tear up, it is hard to watch-does his pride no good to be seen like that, so...I'll look away. And the family, my favorite part of our vast bloodline, will be there-for them too, we'll go. And eat, drink, and believe it or not...at some point we will all be merry together, for Pat who flew away a couple of weeks ago. She taught me more about being a woman than anyone who comes to mind. "Stand up straight, stick your chest out, chin up-stick your heiney out too girl. Don't look at the ground, eyes up front, look 'em in the eye, Terry-don't forget that, look 'em in the eye." At 11 or 12, walking down a back road along the little Wabash river-getting life and posture lessons from a woman who cared enough about my timid little tomboy soul, to set me straight. To this day, my posture is good. Thanks Pat, you made a good difference here-how bright the heavens must be now, how less lit up it is around the little Wabash...but the memory, the shapes drifting down that road, bright as ever. Take care-

Big Fish

I'd put my thinking cap on if I could find it. Or even my typing gloves, they're missing too. Isn't there a Saint of sorts that I should pray to, bring in to this room(spiritually speaking)say "Hey brother, could you find those things for me?", Amen.

The thing on my mind this morning, the only thing it seems is a big fish. It jumped in my boat of dreams last night, and I wasn't even fishing! Made all the other fish seem small,colorless -in my lifetime of fishing, I had never seen nor even realized that such big,beautiful fish existed. But this one, this heavenly sort -swam right up to me many moons ago, and I remember thinking this creature seems so large, looming and kind of scary. And besides, I had put my pole away-no more fishing, or baiting, certainly no trolling- fishing was just not my sport. So what does one do when the scales shine so? When the heart there, beneath the scales is bold and poetic and makes me miss something that I had never even found before?(How does one miss something one never had?!) Sure is a dilemma- this darned old big fish, do I throw it back? Do I tell it to swim away? Come again some other day? I surely don't know the answer to all the questions-all I know is my little pond here was becoming smooth as glass, no ripples hardly-and I found that comforting, safe. And now this big splash, ripples everywhere-to soon, or not soon enough...go away big fish, there is only water enough in my little pond for me. (But then again, fishermen(women)lie just a little, especially when it concerns big fish-you know, the one that got away...) Maybe I just need to wear waders for awhile, hope the farm store carries them in a heart high style- with industrial strength suspenders! See you again tomorrow, if I find that thinking cap. Take care-

a little Christmas Spirit

Some people lose sight of their life, but they can still find their way-they just need a little Christmas spirit.

~Elf

**********************************************************

Take care-

and thanks.

A Fire In Rain

It's Saturday evening, I just returned from a Solstice celebration with four down to earth, beautiful gals. We ate pate', shrimp, drank pomegranate martinis and savored fresh fudge and other dessert fantasies AND built a fire in rain and a 25 mile an hour wind. Felt great. We let our hair down, us five-every time we get together it's all laughter and cheers!! Some of us have lost our soul mates, some still looking, some so inspiring with a great love everlasting, living lessons in devotion. Every time I'm around these women, I feel like singing, or Tarzan calling...pounding, cheering, hollering-yep, that's what us country types do. Even when everyone is looking, we dance.
So-it is truly a beautiful thing when you can share stories and tears, light and laughter, a howling good time with your "bosom" buddies, but I can say no more...what happens at Aud's house stays at Aud's house. But...Miss Aud's a hell of a fun framer, who knows...I may just post what bliss looks like at a later date. Peace and wonder to all and to all a silent, still night. ('Cause my head hurts...must of been the pometinis.) Take care-

Semper Fi and a heavenly Marine

It is another one of those days that I should not be writing, should be letting the pups out of their kennel, should be heading out 'bout now to do my chores,but..I have a story to tell here. One that I can't quite believe, grasp with my head-but my heart says I received a gift yesterday, so I must share it-give it away.
I work in a local cafe in my off season- waitress, philosopher, server. I wasn't born to be wild or mild-I think my nature falls somewhere in between there, anyway-I love the gig of serving wonderful food in an environment of old ambiance and new perspectives. The day was slow, the customers laid back, except for one that I was rude to, had to be rude to, he was vermin with an agenda of ? He affected me like a black cloud with black oxygen, couldn't bear being around this individual-asking many personal questions and he just oozed negativity. So-I was assertive in my rudeness finally, and had there been no other customers around, I would have probably used stronger language with him, the type I speak when fishing or working on machinery. I needed to clearly assert that he was not welcome now or ever-but hey, he still tipped me, which I found even odder in his behavior. I can tell you I walked to my pickup after work with wide eyes in the back of my head, not trusting at all this eerie fellow. But..that is not my story-

A young man came in, a beautiful, sweet sorrowful young man. He was all "yes ma'am, and no ma'am and thank you ma'am", I knew right away- a Marine. His hair, his jawline, the way he dressed reminded me, made me suck my breath in and tell myself to breathe-toooooo familiar, this young man. He ordered lunch and ate with the gusto of a remembrance of food lines from an earlier time-the time when soldiers inhale food, double or single rations, to fill the stomach quick and get on with duty.
"Could I bring you dessert?" "Yes ma'am." "Cheesecake?" "Yes ma'am." "Did you enjoy it?" "YES MA'AM!" "What's your rank son?" "Sargent ma'am." "Where you from?" "Peoria ma'am."

Can I touch your jawline? Your beard stubble, your hair? Is that a new jacket? You were always so stylish. Are you OK? I haven't seen you in tooooooo long. Are you well? You look different, but I know it's you, isn't it? Such an angel.

Those were my thoughts, my reaction to a miracle? A resemblance? The hair, just like I remembered-the jaw, the chin-always having to shave twice a day, I had such a hard time controlling the hand that remembered too and wanted so badly to reach out...please don't think I've lost it here, I felt a remembrance of so many qualities that walked right in there to that restaurant and sat right down- and charm, the sweetest of charms-the quality of only one other I've known like that, sat like that, eyes like that. I felt like I was in a different orbit-removed for awhile from this world into another...amazing grace upon me.
The room came back, the noise, the background music played again, the Marine-my Marine seemed himself, the man/ boy from Peoria wanted his check. I smiled, thankfully -wholeheartedly still embracing the moment before-and said, "Son, your check is up front. Take care of yourself."
"Yes ma'am! and thank you, everything was so good."
 Of course I picked up his tab, not because of the memory or? He was a Marine, a fighter, a hero-the very least I could do in way of thanks was buy him lunch, and joyfully I did. Upon his leaving we exchanged "Semper Fi's-(forever true" and he wondered out loud how I knew he was a Marine? Not army,navy,air force?) I just smiled, and the hand, the largely uncontrollable one -reached out and patted his shoulder. He smiled...and left in his.....Mustang, his wine colored, turbo charged Mustang, with dual exhaust...Just like my son's.
Chills, huh????

Imagine me, peeking around the building trying to dissect this miracle coincidence, trying to hush my imagination, my hopeful vision-but I could not nor will I ever dismiss yesterday...the blessing, the miracle in disguise, the thinking
 "I just have to see what kind of car he drives, if it is a Mustang, stick-a-fork-in-me-I'm-done."
Blew me away...I do wonder, did I entertain an angel? I'd bet the farm on it.
Take care-

With litter...and a garden hoe

Good morning,
Counting down the days...kids are excited, as they should be, it is only fitting and right-even as teenagers and older, they are smitten with what their weird mother has in store for them. They still believe in Santa though...the spirit in the giving there. I shopped mainly at ETSY.com, a homemade, handmade kind of site, I highly reccomend the site as it is creative in it's integrity as I have ever seen. And now for yesterday- what I wrote and had to reveal has made me all the lighter this day, so thanks for hanging in there with me, the real unharnessed me.
After work, I tried to zoom into town for an appointment, but...there was this kid, a real sweet kind of thank you, thank you, thank you kid, stuck in a ditch...on a farm road, cold and shivering and trying like hell to get his car unstuck. I had to stop, had to help and he was beyond thankful, although even with my shoulder to his bumper and only a handy hoe to "dig" him out, I was more encouraging than anything else. This was a little farm road, a farmer finger kind of road, a road that should in of itself be on a first name basis kind of street. The kid had been stuck for over half an hour, confirming that many had already passed him...and yes, ignored his plight, including the dude who had run him off the road in the first place. Oh we tried with everything we had to move his car-forward, backward- kitty litter, hoe and all. A nice lady, mother of four-zoomed by. Yea, real nice lady. A school bus, the driver a real rip, I even said so-couldn't read my lips I guess-off she drove, almost over us. And then the mail lady-the "it's Christmas season, I have sooooo much to do, but hey! Those people could use my help!" so she stopped. An angel. So then out came the floor mats, and it was her kitty litter that we sprinkled. And we pushed, and jumped up and down on the bumper, we prayed...as another friendly neighbor zoomed by, as stated in previous post-"Aren't people wonderful?!" Whew! Did I mention I was on my way to an appointment? But the kid was shivering, and wet and gloveless and well, he needed help. I thought of going to get my tractor and chain, not 4 miles away, when lo and behold-what else but a friendly farmer guy, tooling along in his tractor with his hay forks on, stopped, assessed, made a phone call and..."My boy will be here in a moment with a chain, we'll get you out son." Just like that, kindness to a stranger and a strange crew- with litter and a garden hoe. Oh we hugged, the mail lady and I, and then the kid, the sweet shivering, never did the smile leave his chipper face, he hugged too. All around the Christmas tree and out there on that farm road, real people, really kind and accomodating and the blind ones-the ones who missed out on an adventure of generosity, a different kind of farm finger to them, a salute if you will....made for a good day, and memory. Oh! I did make it to said appointment on time, wet and dirty knee-d, but by golly I got there, elevated & good spirits to boot. That's all folks. Take care- (and do look out for those chipper faces, the one's in the ditches-help 'em if you can, you might get a hug.)

Oh what the heck, I'll take it...

No blog yesterday, sorry to all my devoted(2)fans...I fell into the abyss of an abscess, ouch and groggy alllll day, feeling better...

The title does not suggest a shopping spree and a foolish parting of ways with money that I don't have- it is in reference to the holidays. Lets just get straight to the point, they are hard days these tinsel type times. Everything I touch either breaks, folds up, gets a hole in it or just plain doesn't work like it did yesterday. And I can't say why for sure and I don't break down per se-I just don't manage well. Many, I believe in similar situations, feel this angst, this slow revival of sadness. The more you try to fake it, pretend-if you just try a little harder, or even hold it up against a starving child story and say "it could be worse", the more you try to not take notice of grief, truly the more difficult the situation becomes. So-Oh what the heck I'll take it! Give it to me, the tears and longing, the remember whens, and how he use too...I'll take it. And turn it into what it is, a disclosure, a light turned on in the darkness and come right out into that light and say I miss him, I'll always miss him because I love him so and always will. I did not stop being his mother on the day he died, I don't know how to stop being, don't want to ever learn. And especially at Christmas the mother lode of mothering days-I don't quite know what to do with my self. But I know for one thing sure- I will not be false to his memory nor can I be false to my living children's prescence, I must be real all around the Christmas tree. So, universe- give it to me, I'll take it. And make me ever grateful, I pray-for all of it. Peace to you today, please pass around the kindness today to those little(and not so little) brooders in your life, too. It is hard to see sadness, to really look at a face and try to not see it, ignore it, it makes for an uncomfortable situation...but imagine how it is for the soul behind that face to have no acknowledgement for who they really are, or how they really feel. Thanks, I knew you'd understand. You always did...and do take care-


(And no commenting on "Jesus is the Reason for the Season"-I know that.A statement like that is a life preserver(your own) if you will-thrown to a seemingly drowning man in only two foot of water-he's not drowning and you're not a preacher(are you?!)he's only taking on more water than necessary by flailing and fighting the waves-call to him, in kindness-he'll walk right out of the water, to the shore-everytime.)

Carrots are the one thing

JB,
First off, before I forget the questions: Carrots are the one thing I cannot
grow, literally-no matter what I do, the little dears evade me. A.P. is
baffled, says they're easy-I will be elated when I figure this one out. I like
Johnny's seed out of Maine. Their germination rate seems the best so far and
they do offer pelleted seeds. Their customer service, should a problem arise-is
unbeatable. If you go to the specialty conference in Spfld. they will have a
rep there, I think he is John Fine? He is knowledgeable and easy to talk too.
I also ran into him at LaCrosse. I am ok, holidays are always a source of
bummerism, but-I'm excited for my kids, as they seem anxious and happy for the
holidays, this feels more right than it has in 4 years, a kind of slow
acceptance that we're still a family missing a piece, but we're more whole
individually. Does that make sense? Anyway-I have heard nothing legal wise,
perhaps they're waiting until after the holidays to inform me one
way or the other-and I just do not want to call to see what's up, yet. Being
neutral right now is the best gift I can give myself. Hoping for an answer I can live with, be at peace with.
Lots of ice and snow, pretty but hard to manuever in, especially with the
animals-but I don't recall anyone ever telling me that farming was easy.
Looking forward to the planning, planting plugs and ordering seeds soon. Taking
a trip with myself early January for a few days-possibly New Hampshire and
Pennsylvania to the Rodale institute, just me and my shadow. I can't wait for
you either to begin fully, you're farming-can't wait for the affirmations to flow
to you from the earth, your land. In time, they will
and you will know the pulse of your land and flow with that rhythm. That is the
amazing part of this all-time will shift, no more clocks other than nature's
own-so much as it's raining, or shining, or too hot or too cold and you will
farm to those kind of time frames, at first perhaps feeling you should do more
of this or that-but I found in working with the day, the hour-accepting that
pace, well-I just seem to flow with it. That present moment stuff was truly
being, just being. Time stops and all the little minute details come into
focus, and this sounds all to zen like-but when that happens, you'll really be
there, fully aware and awakened. It's ectasy. Even when there is more dirt on
you than there is on an acre-it's just a giddy feeling. Can't wait to hear your
perspective, you're so positive energy anyway-your crops will be amazing.
I am writing a blog almost daily and it has made me see what I think, what I
ponder and what other's percieve-it seems to be of great therapy to me, even if
so much of it is nonsense to others, I don't care-it is important, a daily
lesson for me. I think I'm going to post a bit today of what I've said above, I
won't refer to you directly. But that is hindsight up there, again-the thoughts
are worth a mulling over. Hope you enjoy your family and friends this
holiday season with a great sense of peace but also with great anticipation of
your coming year. I am kind of giddy for you. Looking forward to your stories,
have yourself a merry little Christmas...blessings. Take care-

To what is on the inside.

Holiday happenings here yesterday, preparations were massive in terms of cooking, cleaning, anxiety right before, wanting to cancel...snow accumulation requiring firing up the tractor to clear the way, kids came together in such a way that we pulled it all together just in time. The youngest daughter coming home from a sleep over, lane drifted shut, walked 3/4 of a mile to get home to help out- because she said she would. Lucky, bless-ed man who sees the heart there some far away day. Son took over tractor duty and cleared the drive and parking, even though he wasn't invited(girl party)-big man, good man there. Oldest daughter, goofy fun, had my ire up at first but made me laugh so hard with her "move" busting later, I almost peed my pants, joyful, joyful young woman. And then the party goers, the cookie bakers came-the table was piled high with goodies: We had cookie recipes from Sandy and Betty Crocker(hmmm, sisters?!) and a creme brulee' pie that was made for me but I was made to share it, can you imagine? Certain things aren't meant to be shared! And the zen like baker of that pie clicked away photo after photo while the zanyness was going on, frame after frame-we were jiving people! That's what she does though, brings the jive and jolly, thank goodness and Miss Aud. And the "really fast fudge" built by a gal from K.C originally, who loves organic and wants to give me money! Sure, anytime. And Meeechelle, my belle-Go buckeyes! Stimulated our conversation with her pure goodness, she does not contain her joy, ever- and we are all made the richer for it. Hey! Her chocolate chews seemed divine....she scares me sometimes, she has a direct line with YOU know who. Did I mention she's also a healer? Tis true, she massages people, and you won't be the same once she puts her hands on you. And our 3 day project girl who tusseled with the flour and cut outs and baking and decorating, not only did her cookies look bee-u-t-full, they tasted like heaven. And miss Kel and Deb from near came with their "stuff" and yes Maam, you do got the goods, don't you ever forget that, head high-walk it like you talk it-go shine. And miss aaaaah, dear sweet one to my heart, beautiful cookies shared baking with a little one related to the lovliest most generous man-the two of you bring so much to our table, I will have to take an entire lifetime to thank you, ok?! And the north side girl who has never let me forget that I am not alone, wonder if she knew how often I stumbled but was often picked up by her encouragement, she and her 4 redheads-the woman must be a saint! And my friend from long ago and always, my candle toting, ummmmm...let's just say always, the life of every party and sometimes every sadness. She brings life to life, even when one doesn't want to live much...the truest of the true, I pray she never changes, life would not be so darn orgy like if she did. HA!! All my love and thanks today-eat cookies, be happy! Take care-

Be Heard-Not Herded!

FDA APPROVAL OF FOOD FROM CLONED ANIMALS STALLED BY PASSAGE OF MIKULSKI-SPECTER AMENDMENT IN FARM BILL!

(December 14, 2007) A broad coalition of consumer, farmer, and animal welfare organizations today applauded passage of a provision in the Senate’s Farm Bill (H.R. 2419) that would delay the Food and Drug Administration’s (FDA) endorsement of the use of food from cloned animals. This amendment, advanced by Senator Barbara A. Mikulski (D-Md.) and co-sponsored by Senator Arlen Specter (R-Pa.), calls for a rigorous and careful review of the human health and economic impacts of bringing cloned food into America’s food supply. The senate overwhelmingly passed the bill this afternoon by a vote of 79 to 14.
... The bill also directs the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) to examine consumer acceptance of cloned foods.

During a public comment period that ended earlier this year, the FDA heard from more than 150,000 citizens rejecting the Agency’s proposed plan to introduce clones into the U.S. food supply.

We applaud the Senate's passage of this amendment, and hope the House will follow its lead!

I applaud this most significant turn of events, the people have spoken, our leaders listened, responded-oh the things we can do as united, concerned citizens of this nation. I had intended no writing on the weekends, but! I had to climb up on this soap box and speak a little about food safety. This issue of cloning had gotten my feathers riled up over the last year. I for one do not want to ingest a lab experiment of the bovine3xz09 variety. That is my right, at least-not to be spoon fed what the FDA deems as edible, healthy, cloned food. UH-UH. Pass me the beef, the pasture raised naturally created kind. Call me a hayseed, but I want to know where it came from (label it!),what sustained it(buy local!) who raised it(again, buy local!)and no unnatural additives, be they hormonal or otherwise. The need to jump on this bandwagon is great, for the next war will be the labeling, and I believe we have every right to expect disclosure of origin. If you agree, I urge you to contact your representives, via letter,email, phone call. It really matters. It helps. Be heard-not herded.
Sure you're busy,it's the helter skelter hallelujah time of year-but my hope is you would put this issue on the back burner, let it simmer there for awhile-enjoy your holidays-but perhaps resolve to write that letter on January 1st?, or-if you're a bit hung over, maybe the 2nd, ok? Thank you, I believe given the opportunity, the time to stew something over-we all usually do the right thing. For us and for our neighbor and our neighbor's neighbor-looking out, looking up, looking forward-together. I'll step down now, the soap box will be put away for a time...be well. And, do take care-

Freshly and Naively

--"Some people," observed psychologist Abraham Maslow, "have a wonderful
capacity to appreciate again and again, freshly and naively, the basic
goods of life, with awe, pleasure, wonder, and even ecstasy."

Rachel Carson:"If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in
the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last
throughout life."

The above statements struck me as somewhat applying to my own central vision. I must of had a good fairy somewhere in my life, for she/he, it-did instill an indestructible desire for wonder in me. These quotes spoke to me yesterday as I came upon them, coincidence? No such thing in my beliefs, only great happenings that coincide and gift an awareness to one who is open to such things. A yes if you will. And I am about the most naive person you'll ever meet, and dumber than a rock-thank goodness, just dumb enough to believe in miracles, big and little.
And this question was proposed to me yesterday:
What sparks creativity in you?
My unthinking answer:
Take a walk and really see...everything. Approach an individual with an attitude of love not fear. Get to know, by observation-the least likely person in the room who seemingly has little to offer, ahhhh...from them there is much to learn. The deeper presence of such people is often remarkable in it's clarity.

Ecstasy, and worlds of it to you today. Take care-

the little ones on the edges...

Good early morning-
I wondered too much about what to write today, for truly the holidays are so bright, so lit up that every little dark corner is exposed, every shape and form is illuminated and I can see all too well, see that someone is missing and it pulls and tugs too hard at my heart, so-I'll speak of summer and the remnants that remain.
I plant many sunflowers every year-on the east and west sides, groves if you will. And also there are the volunteers, the jungle hybrids that pop up here and there, and I can never pull them, I must let them grow and grow they do. One in particular, the old soldier standing guard by the back door,(he finally gave all in this last ice storm, now I must step over his 6' remains, as he is frozen to the ground) the one that buzzed in honey bee greetings as you passed. The little bees thick covered legs with sun yellow bright pollen, the tiniest messengers of prescence oblivious to me as I passed by. Sunflowers out back, by the summer kitchen-decorated with the hanging of "wild canaries" (my name for them)-while you are inside the little room in the house where you do your, um...business, in concentration-the littlest of yellow birds doing theirs-hanging upside down, seemingly saying, tweeting-"Hmmm, what shall I have for lunch? This glorius fat sunflower seed, or the little ones on the edges, I do need to watch my figure." Well, that is what I imagine they are busy at-being selective in their smorgasborg that God and I have produced for their summer meals.
I leave these summer remnants, the millet and seed heads of coneflowers for my little friends, and some for the deer that I do not allow to trespass in the warmer months, but all gates are open for them in these cold winter days, they know of the deli out back and partake regularly of the popcorn I left standing just for them. Yes those glory days warm me up-keep me centered like the balancing act of my bright sunshiney friends. I think I'll carhart up(kind of like cowboy up-whatever the hell that means) and take a walk this morning. Don't worry, I'll bring you with me-and what your eyes cannot see your heart will absorb at a later posting, kind of like a blind date, in hindsight. Oooh, I'm stretching now...Be well, take care-

"...to see it there in just this way I wonder, how survive; and how cruel the axman take another swipe at life. Oh bruised sky above I pray, in sunshine give it peace, for I do fear it's dreary life, in bending more decease." Seeing a weeping willow this summer, those words came to mind. That poor old tree had been battered by ice, goats, and lawnmowers. It was a difficult time, and my eyes were only accustomed to such sights then. "What we see depends mainly on what we look for." John Lubbock There was a great deal of adversity back then in those July days, but also a good deal of light, thank goodness. People that I knew and some I did not even know at all became beacons though, lighting the path of friendship and kindness, most often times the latter was from strangers. In the mail came new surprises, correspondence from near and far. A story had been done in a newspaper about this little old farm and it's "back story", it's true essence of a vocation fledged out like a little bird given wings to fly. In the midst of a great disappointment, a letter from the east came(due to the article)"You are beautiful" it said. I certainly didn't feel beautiful, but it was a deep kindness sent to convey the feelings of the story. It helped me, brightened my moment-as I sat upon my porch swing,tears ever present on my cheeks. I do not believe it was meant to validate-it was the kindness, the take-the-time-to-write, the "I was touched, I had to respond" kind of gesture. From the east, and west and the city of angels- letters came. I began to see and feel other's stories as my own, for they were my own-as every one's sorrow came into the fold I realized the connections we all make, must make to brighten this world up a bit, for each other and ourselves. And the misery I speak of was transcended by each of those writers-as a deeper appreciation for life, it's moments of bewilderment, joy and sorrow-came together in such a way that a revelation, a shape formed. It resembled a heart, this shape-but it's boundaries a bit fuzzy, you cannot see it by looking directly at it, no- one must use the eyes of hope. They are often so hard to open, those darn old near-sighted eyes, to see the beauty in the many facets that make up a person, a life. Look for a joy- a single solitary joy, I promise you'll find it. Look for a sorrow, you'll find that too, all around-too much of it. Open up those hopeful eyes, share with me, with the world what you see...won't you? Thanks. Take care-

(A little late in posting today, ice+satellite mix=malfunction.)

The World Is New Each Morning...

"-that is God's gift, and a man should believe he is reborn each day." Israel Ben Eliezer
For truly I was renewed over the weekend, the ice and the snow-such beauty to behold. My camera (well, Lily's camera...)poised, a world of wonder awaited each precious framing. My intent was to say very little this morning, to post many pictures and let them speak for themselves, but blogger had other ideas and the photo above was the only one to be posted. Those geese flew overhead, low and slow-their wings saluted me in greeting, I whispered "Good morning" to them. And the sound of crackling and snow falling is like no other, a quiet solitude, a brain silencer an eye opener, I cannot help to feel so elated, to smile inwardly and outwardly. I did prep a bit for the storms-five buckets full of five gallons of water in the basement, salt on the sidewalks and the path to the barn. Old pickup resting comfortably in the shed, never moving, hibernating out there-hopefully this morning I can wake her up from her bear-like slumber, for I am sure she will growl and be hard to rouse. I was certain of an electrical outage-last year I was off the grid for 5 days, no water, basement flooding, boiler stranded like an island with water quickly threatening to cancel her function should the electricity return. I remember falling down the steps as I baled water from the basement to water the animals, remember sitting at the base of the stairs thoroughly soaked and sore and crying. I remember getting up and going to the living room to use the phone and call a friend, looking up to see Granny and Grandad standing out in there field in the picture and reminding me that they were pioneers and had no electricity for many of their years, their eyes scolding me as if to say "get up girl, dry your tears and get on with it, we had it so much harder!" I remember sucking it up at that moment, calling the friend with heat and dryness, (sniffling a little)- to share my thoughts of broken bones, and could I come over later for a hug, heat, and coffee. But this morning, I am also remembering yesterday and it's restorative power, as it has found me a new morning today, another beginning,a being reborn, again. Stay warm, take care-

A Winter's Tale

There is a snow blanket covering this land today, a cold rememberance of memories past and memories to come. "Some memories never multiply, but new ones leave their trace...." I am remembering by the snow's visit a later day when the third child was bundled up by the first child and made to sit on a makeshift sled, an old scoop shovel seemingly fitted for little britches to ride upon the snow. The oldest, my first born- loved snow, first snows especially and he could not contain a joy within himself, he always needed to share it, for he was big in heart and the good Lord made him just that a way so that the cavity that held that heart might swell some more from the goodness he shared with others, allowing the heart there to become even larger. That is what I see as I gaze out my window, this early early morning-a boy whose heart that was to big for this world, so big in fact that it calls to me still from the sweet hereafter, in an unsilenced memory of music and song and the sweetest, longing memories for those yesterdays, those take-them-all-for granted, the-sun-will-always-rise days and the snows-the first snow, will always fall in such a way on my heart that it softens and hardens it all at the same time. Hug your child today, love your child today, remember always remember the gift there. Blessings, take care-

"Me, I got a pickup....

And I drive it like the fourth of July!" And if I could, I would head Maine-ly out east to see a kind undertaking in the form of a dancing friend who looks at life through such beautiful eyes, the sights and sighs are always glorified by a deep tenderness, lucky blessed anyone who truly sees the heart there.
How often enough to be gladdened by a generous heart, a heart ones shares hesitantly, vulnerably, and still with the greatest courage, risks again treacherous love. I am for one a gun slinger of sorts, one false move brother and bam!!! You are laying on the ground as the smoke drifts from my own barrel of too many misfirings. Or mis-aims. The target then? Why my own thumping, beating way-too-big-for-this-weary-world heart. As John Wayne declares in the Shootist-"I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted, I won't be laid a hand on. I don't do these things to other people, and I require the same from them." Hallelujah and amen brother Duke. I use to be a "dumb a** amatuer", but my aim, my targets- pretty well sighted in.
Did I mention I'm a big fan of the Duke, I loved his conviction, strong will, generosity of spirit and precious advice-"What happened out there? Why'd you shoot 'em?" Mr. Wayne stoically replied,"The conversation just kind of dried up." I am metophorically speaking here of course about shooting so called cold "sightless" basta****-but, I have had alot of practice as of late percieving vermin. Ooh, a bit harsh today, reasoning not with head but too much aforementioned weary-world heart. I know you're out there, you good folks and your hearts of gold...and I thank you for being true to yourself and kind to others. Well, off to fire up the old girl and get her pointed towards slight north, she-like me, has a cold start, but once she's firing on all points-she's a beauty to behold. Hopeful, durable lessons for you today, take care-

Blanket White Everything

An e.e. cummings kind of title, I write like that you know-an in way an out way and all around the words way. A full spectrum if you will, of words. It was suppose to snow here last night, I was prepared, and giddy and a bit melancholy...in reference to the "Blanket White Everything"- first snow is purity, a covering, an insulation. Though it did not snow, I suspect it will as my sinuses often react dully to barometric changes, and the chickens were all gathered in a mobile bunch. My butterscotch girls give me eggs everyday, no artificial lighting for my birds, no! I just talk to them, they are my production team so I try to stay on top of their chicken coop politics. I have one old gal that stays on the nest just long enough to
to give me hell when I reach in to collect the brood of eggs under her. I admire her tenacity, though I do not like her pecking and clucky aggression. She scares me and she knows it. I mean-a butterscotch bird with a brain no bigger than the eggs she lays, but she stands up to my minor annoyance with the threatening attitude of a wolverine, yikes-I could never do a reality show on my little farm-I fear the main idea that people would hold onto is that chickens are really meat eaters (given a chance, this one takes chunks out of me!) and that I am not at all as plucky as I seem. And, well...I don't watch TV all that much and the only reality of those shows is the world will suffer fools, call it entertainment, stack their own experiences up against the show and belittle the story. The reality of most lives, I think-we do our best, our lives are like quilts with many peices stitched together, circumstances in life can rip us apart, but being the sole seamstresses, we find ways to mend our tattered blankets, sometimes offering a covering for others who are not quite experts at stitching yet. Or unable to pull it all together to even begin to mend, some have no thread at all, for them, the most calico among us-we offer assistance, well, we should anyway. Sorry for the analogy-drives my kids insane! This is why I write, to drive my teens crazy and to well, display my beautiful quilt, though worn and quite tattered...and wrap it around them in such a way that they might learn the stitches of life...the ins and outs and all around thread that connects us all. And if I may quote the great Paul Harvey, "Good day!"
Take care

The Blind Man's Bliss

Good chilly morning,

I could start out this post ranting and raving about the fact that I have no hot water this morning...I really want to vent a bit about that, but I am abled bodied and capable of changing the heating element, though I have to get to work soon so I'll count on that after work activity and a cold shower this morning. The blind man-I sat next to him last evening while attending Blues Monday, listening to Susie and the Smokers, trying to stay in my seat while all I wanted to do was dance, dance, dance! The blind man, a local bass player I learned, was as sweet and kind as a person could be, a smile seemingly ever present. It is his perspective that I will try to convey here today-did he see the beautiful sunset last night? The one that cast only the colors that sunset's cast-otherworldly oranges and pinks that cause the soul to rejoice-no, I could not ask him that conversational question. Could he see the dancers, don't they seem to be leaving their bleak Monday behind as they twirl and hip jive to a Tommy Castro tune? No, again-I could not open up with much of a stimulating chat. Still, he smiled, tapping his cane to the rhythm, so it was he leading me to his experience of the music. I liked him. A good person to sit next too, a real complete being without sight. How would he react to home repair? Perhaps that is why he smiled, seemed so light-he has to trust his fellow man, knows he needs us to lend a helping hand. Oh to be so humble, unafraid to open up to life as it flows, and when a wave rocks the boat, the blind man smiles and seemingly knows to call out to another, engage a friendship in time of need. Lord, you gave me sight and strength, how about a plumber today? Increase my faith, and give me please- the bliss of a blind man. Take care-

Been meaning to do that....

This morning finds me carefully planning my day so that I might have time to simply do nothing, to be still. I would walk to the woods if the temperature would rise, perhaps spend some time on a straw bale in the corn crib taking in it's ancientness. The corn crib is my cathedral, the light passes through the slats of wood like sunshine through stained glass, I often feel as if I am in a holy place, a thin place. But it's cold. And carharts are great for working outdoors, but to sit and be still like in a tree stand deer hunting, the body soon lets you know that activity is what it needs to stay warm. Oh, I have plenty opportunities for activity-spreading more straw on the garlic, strawberries or anywhere yesterdays wind lay bare the soil. Or I could grab some naval jelly and clean rust off the two row plow, I've been meaning to do that. Huh-"been meaning to do that" how many times in our lives have we uttered those words? How many times, in feeling a twinge of guilt afterwards, did we follow through with "that?" I'm a list gal, if it ends up on my list, darn me! I do it. Often I do many things not on the list, but I think I'll start a "been meaning to do that" list and see what appears on the page. Ponder that- when you attatch meaning to anything, I think it becomes a more thoughtful intention
like "I've been meaning to take those old coats in the attic to the shelter", see! A higher purpose, a good intention-now for the follow through, well-I've been meaning to do that. Just speaking the words lets me off the hook, covers me with a good intention but no follow through. I need to make a list. And stick to it. How about you? Prosperity and peace to you today, take care-

Chainsaw reaction

Good morning,

Who knew I, the most un-technical savvy person, would attempt a blog?! Why not. I have searched forums for info pertaining to solar energy to the other edge of the spectrum of sprouting seed potatoes, darn it-I'm just plain tired of wasting time searching! Perhaps the info will come to me if I can but appear the least bit interesting and, well...interested.
I will try to the best of my ability to rant and rave, inform and be informed. And perhaps, just like the Big Lebowski (my hero), I will abide.
As per my title, chainsaws are on my mind today-particularly the one in my shed. The one I visited for many moons at the farm store, waiting, wishful, wondering if the darn thing would ever go on sale. I befriended the counter guys, the super heros of power tools. They took a shine to me, really! On their inside information I found out if I waited until the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday-I could find in the local paper a coupon for 20% off one item in the store. A gold coupon! Just like in Willie Wonka I anticipated wonderous things happening, you know-with a chainsaw. So, as I worked that glorious day, hoping for enormous tips so that I might apply those as well to the purchase price of my new 16" Stihl Farmhand chainsaw-I dreamed of spending my Sunday chopping, oh wait-that's right no more chopping! Buzzing through my miscellaneous wood lot with the zeal of a woman possessed by a bargain and the full function of a handy dandy most needed tool. Fast forward to old green 72 Ford flying down the blacktop, wind in my hair, coupon in hand, gas in the tank...wait a minute! Gas in the tank? Well, sure there was fuel in it last time I checked, but didn't the truck appear to be parked at a different angle than I had left it that moring? Teen stuck at home, Thanksgiving break-of course I wouldn't mind if he used the truck, if he supported the drive with gas money, his own. Long story short-of course I ran out of gas not 6 miles from my target,( fuel gage broken). Of course, not 4 miles from my own home would anyone stop and give me a lift to nearest pump?! Nope. Aren't people wonderful? And that goes for teens as well, because the boy left me stranded and ticked off on top of it all, because I needed to get the chainsaw, and the delay and voluntary blindness of passer bys just made my ire grow. Yes I cussed. And I am not a cusser usually, only when dealing with tractors, fishing and teenagers(and then only under my breath)-ooooh, I was seething. Good friend Audrey rescued me via the help of my electronic leash, fed me a beer, told me to breathe and eventually got me in to said farm store. So-there you have it! Must use chainsaw today, (must get dressed first), but then-off to the wild wonder of dead wood and dropped Hackberry branches by last winter's cruel ice storm. Good to meet you, take care-