Homesteading In the Age of Technology

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

2012-02-13T20:48:00.000-05:00

Friends, the esteemed Madame Rex (known in these parts as Lione, amongst other things) is engaging in a project that I have been hearing about in some form or another since I was...I don't know how old exactly, but I think the number started with a "1" so that ought to tell you something. It has evolved greatly in the past years and I'm so excited that it is coming into existence even as we speak.

The following is her Kickstarter video, that page is here. Check it out:

It’s Hardly Spring

2012-02-13T20:30:00.001-05:00

It’s cold out, and the stack of chopped wood outside seem to make it’s way inside quicker these days. Even though there are plenty of signs of green outside, it’s really still something meant for looking forward to.

Speaking of looking forward….this will be the very first thing I order tomorrow night and I am so very excited about it: Tataki  Mango  Magic. What is this magic, you ask? Well, it just so happens to be fresh  mango,  cucumber,   spring  greens  wrapped  in  peppered  tuna  tataki,  atop  ponzu  mango  sauces,  finished  with  infused  virgin  olive  oil.

I mean, it should be obvious that I’m pretty stoked about hanging out with Moth while eating such delicious things. I’ll probably even share them with him. No, definitely. I will definitely share magic food with my awesome husband.

Got A’s on my tests. Two quizzes tomorrow. Six hours of math homework on Sunday turned me into a zombie. School is better than working. A lot. There are a lot of hilarious quotations in my science book about Quantum Mechanics from those who first did the work. They all found it deeply puzzling and bothersome. Einstein refused to believe it (or rather, refused to believe that God would thusly play dice with the universe) while Schrödinger said “I don’t like it and I wish I had never had anything to do with it.” I think Niels Bohr was mostly just mystified. Meanwhile, pretty much all of modern chemistry is based on the stuff. Good times.

Tuesday

2012-02-07T23:41:00.001-05:00

Well. Tired. Math and science tests complete. Waiting for results (tomorrow, I think).

I hosted a fabulous clothing swap / potluck / swarm of beautiful women this weekend. My house has piles and piles and more piles left over. I’m still finding treasures! I suppose I will freecyle or donate the rest, but until then, piles.

Chose to work on my card project instead of blog today. I have a couple images from this recent round that are more gallery shots than card shots, I think, but the rest seem to fit quite nicely in the shop. It’s a slow process of building up.

Favorites from today:

Happy Tuesday, I’m off to bed.

It's Still Tuesday for One More Hour!

2012-01-31T22:56:00.000-05:00

Well. If you want thoughtful things, I invite you to read the post below.

What I'll tell you today is this: friends-in-the-Internet, I have sinned. It was a delicious sin. The kind of sin that you think "oh, well that is just unnatural" and then you do it anyway because...well, how can you not?

Do you want to know what strange and unnatural sin against nature I have committed? Of course you do. Now get your minds out of the gutter and hear this: I purchased and ate (ok, devoured) a delicious heirloom (I think it was a Virginia Sweet) tomato.

I'll wait for you all to climb back into your chairs. Heirloom tomato in January? Yes, thanks to a nice organic farm down in Mexico. And I will tell you this: it was amazing and I would do it again! Once, maybe. I can't let it happen all the time mind you. But with a schedule so busy, a girl deserves a treat, right?

Plus, there have been crow feathers in so many of my meals lately. I've talked smack about social networking and media for years. Years, I tell you. And what do I do with my social media money? I buy fruit out of season. It's just further proof that it is as evil as I've always thought. But evil tastes so good, a thick slice next to your egg and toast...*sigh* I'm still talking smack, apparently. Well, I'll either quit being a curmudgeon over the course of this job or get way worse. I should probably pick the higher road, but crow isn't easy for a vegetarian to eat. Ha.

Oh well. We did eat the last of my frozen pesto tonight, and there are still squash saved back, so it's not all that bad.

The Meaning of Work

2012-01-27T20:12:00.001-05:00

I’ve been thinking about work lately. Not “job,” but work.

To back up, I once had the luck to spend several years in relationship with a creature so very magical that I mistook her for the moon. Of course, it later turned out that she WAS the moon, only I had failed to calculate in all the qualities of the moon. The moon has a complex relationship with our vision. It waxes, wanes. It rises and sets, pulling tides on the ocean. It orbits, sometimes visible, sometimes not. It has it’s own purpose, its own mysteries, a side that faces warmth, a side that fearlessly faces the cold dark. None of this explains the part relevant in this moment- the poems. The moon wrote poems to me, about me, for me. Can you imagine, getting a poem from the moon? Well, such a thing can indeed occur, as it turns out, and thus capture your glory, your impatience, the very shape of your ribs, how water moves over you as you swim. There was one, a sonnet “with which I have taken great liberties with iambic pentameter” the note read. I can still remember so well those final lines, the first slip (of my reading rhythm, that is) of the iambic pentameter that I could even find:

When our ages are spent and circled, there I will go with you.
But first, my Snark, my love, under this strange sun, we have work to do.

I translated it differently, at the time, of course, although it seems as true now as it did then. Then, I was thinking of that fire that pushes her forward in great feats. The force carrying her across the sea, a significant moment in my learning just how much one has to learn about acceptance from the moon. Now, I am thinking about the work. The work that I have to do. Obviously, there is one difference that exists – then, the moon was thinking of the moon, and I was thinking of the moon. Now, we think of ourselves, and know the other to exist, always orbiting, sharing time under this strange sun.

(Do you want a fun story? I was hand-in-hand with the moon when I met Moth. She told us at our wedding that in that moment when we met Moth she looked from me to Moth and the whole world stopped spinning and she know then and there that we were for one another. She never said a word, for all those years- the years that we hadn’t a clue and would never have guessed that we might end up here, and even once we began to suspect it just a little, she held her peace, right up until we made that promise. Then she let us in on the fact that she knew, always. The moon is like that.)

But again, work!

Since I live in science-land now, I can define work as force acting through distance and more important to my thought process is energy. Energy: the capacity to do work. I feel differently about work, now that there is this winding path that actually leads to something that feels like *my* work. And I like to think that will even make this job business a little bit more worthwhile, a greater reality then just “oh, and I’d like to eat and have a house and go on this trip and not stress out about it too much.” In the meantime, let’s all give great thanks for that new job-thingie because man, that was getting really old.

(Lione, if you are reading this, let me know if you’d like your stanza marked as your somehow, and also, I imagine you looking at all the commas and shaking your head with great mirth.)

Of Glorious Dreams and Inglorious Moments

2012-01-26T16:27:00.001-05:00

I had a really amazing dream the other night. I was lying on the pavement looking up at the night sky when a rocket ship took off not too far off. Apparently, this was something that seemed pretty normal, as I sat up to look at it, but wasn’t alarmed, just curious. It shot out, then up. Then, it returned, only it wasn’t alone. Spacecraft from all over the world were joining up with it. They joined together to create a great white dragon in the sky, a fully articulated, undulating, flying dragon. I could see inside the spacecraft from Greece (identifiable from a small flag) and there was a spaceman in a yellow suit, pulling controls, his whole body dancing with the effort of doing his part within the dragon. So. Dancing white dragon made of spacecraft full of spacemen. For a person who seems to dream mostly of math equations these days, that was more than significant and spectacular.

On the other hand, I spent too much of my time yesterday embarrassingly spitting things out. The coupe de grace, however, came at the very end of the day. Imagine, if you will, lying in bed. Now imagine your spouse has leaned over you and taken a big swig of water. (Do you see where this is going). Yes, that’s right. After getting a huge mouthful of water, I somehow lost coordination and ended up with a little bit up my nose and a very wet howling-with-laughter husband. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that he was amused. I suppose watching it happen would be quite funny….it’s just still thinking that it’s funny when you’re the one covered in water with puddles running off you onto the sheets that is the truly redeeming part. Oh, laughter is a powerful force indeed.

2012-01-24T12:53:00.000-05:00

Phone posts, a reason for brevity!

Warmth. Fires at night have given way to spring warmth today. Soon I hope for a day like this where I can turn the soil in my little garden. The onions I planted are growing quickly now.
The promise of a new position - great to have income potential yet tiring to think of another realm to learn how to navigate when already I have so shifted my thoughts to encompasses new patterns. Also- time. Can I get a side order of extra time?
It is concerning to see so many spring flowers coming up now, but they do have their charms.
class now, then zai, then training and homework. Later, internet!

Tuesday

2012-01-17T23:28:00.001-05:00

Would it look too funny if I kept my “things to blog about” notes written on the back of my hand with pen? That’s where things are headed around here if I don’t come up with a better solution.

I was dumb today. Like, 9+6=18 dumb. Why this example? Only because I tried to suggest this very thing to Moth as we did puzzles this morning over breakfast. You can assume rightly that my lab (in which we measured things and converted those measurements) went a bit slowly. *blink*blink* Good thing it wasn’t due at the end of class!

We had a magical coating of snow over the weekend but now we seem to be back to the usual (and very annoying) habit of pouring rain and unseasonable warmth followed by dry frigid days. So basically, the last two years have forever spoilt me for fickle southern winter. (Or, maybe not. I mean, you definitely shouldn’t take anything I say today all that serious, what with the dumb. I’m only posted because I promised to post on Tuesdays and I actually remembered that fact before midnight.)

I’ve been branching out in my socializing to my great benefit. I enjoy meeting new people and exploring all the connecting points, the areas where we bounce off each other and the things we have to learn from one another.

So. Things I am grateful for today:

Sifu. He’s clearly turning the heat up, and to great effect. Tuesday evening class leaves your legs shaking. Today he calmly informed us that our mind’s weakness was getting in our way. I’m sure he’s right, but in that moment it really did feel more like it was my legs’ extreme fatigue that got in the way. Yes, very glad for that.
That *the dumb* didn’t cause any real issues other than saying stupid things to Moth all day. Oh well.
Math professor friends. I got some really great help from my friend in the math department today that will make my science work a lot easier. Hurrah for minds that work that way and can find their way to all the little in-between steps and rules that aren’t always there in black and white.
Big pots of soup. Having food at the ready is a wonderful thing.
Bed. I would like to spend more time in my bed than I do, only there aren’t enough hours in the day to compensate. I suppose the answer to that is to go to bed earlier because getting up later would just be shameful :)

Math Derangement

2012-01-13T17:32:00.001-05:00

Math derangement is a condition that develops after hours of careful study. The symptoms are as follows:

Increased rolling of the neck to ward off stiffness
Mumbling under one’s breath about the behavior of numbers
Narrating the path to solving or balancing an equation
Addressing numbers under one’s breath and anthropomorphizing them
Making up songs about numbers, often detailing numerical activities that may or may not be taking place.

It is also, strangely, a rather pleasant state. Not ideal for test taking, perhaps, what with all the noises being made out loud, but as long as a person is safely in their own nest and in the company of people who have seen enough to know that derangement is more or less just the status quo anyway….yup, I’m deranged

I’m having a lot of fun, actually. I like my classes, I am interested and excited enough that I’m doing above and beyond what I have to for classes (and at this point, since I’m still trying to reach into the “never going to need again” filing system and retrieve discarded data it’s a good preventative measure to do the extra work) and I’m in a place where things are novel again. For example, I just finished taking a quiz. I haven’t been quizzed in years. It was exciting. And awesome. So, definitely deranged, and all is well.

Meanwhile, the lack of snow continues to disappoint. As you can see above, the creek rose to the very top of it’s banks and threatened to go further as the rain poured down..followed by a dry sunny day, and now, barely flurries. We could have been up to our knees! Alas. At least it’s cold now – while it’s not as comfortable as our warmer days I’m willing to build fires and shiver now and then if we can kill off the bugs somewhat.

And now, showers and potlucks. Tomorrow we leave awesome fun math (algebra) behind and move on to cantankerous ornery math (chemistry math). Ah well, gotta get it done. One of the benefits of having math professors for friends is you have people who are really really excited about helping you, so I’ve got quite the network for improving the mood of scientific notation and conversions. Are volume conversions evil? I think maybe so. Do I welcome someone proving me wrong? Yes, yes, oh please yes.

Just Eat the Oatmeal!

2012-01-10T11:34:00.001-05:00

This photo was taken some time ago. The little ball-shaped entities along the drive are actually turkeys. It’s been rather bird-oriented around here for a while, especially since my grandmother gave me some birdseed for Christmas and all I’ve done since is jump up and down at the windows excited by all the birds who have come to feast.

Most birds are hard to capture once they’ve flown to their perch, but not the male cardinals! We usually can spot three or four pairs of cardinals at any given time when there is birdseed. Lots of finches, too. The tufted titmice seem to be interested in our woodpile more than the birdfeeders, but that’s cool too- they come right up to the door to check things out.

Yesterday Moth and I were taking turns running the acrobat squirrels off the feeder. Well, we let the baby squirrel eat, but who wouldn’t – so cute and tiny and a little clumsy. Anyway, as we were watching one of the larger squirrels ran right up to the door, put his little claws on the sill and peered in. Then he jumped up in a potted plant, looked around a few times, and proceeded to dig out a walnut that he’d buried there and hopped off with it. The squirrels can feed themselves in this mild winter, I feel sure.

I would like a good snow…it’s pretty bizarre when you have time for this during winter:

Still, the stove is plenty flamey in this particular moment, and I’m feeling glad for that.

And soon, back to the oatmeal. This just in: attempting to review the math you’ll need for Chemistry over breakfast does not result in eating. It does result in a lot of mumbling, scratching things out and squinting resentfully, though. That has been my last twenty-four hours: reviewing math I am already supposed to know.* Oh, joy. Hello new world, you consist only of math. Fortunately, reviewing algebra was kinda fun. Converting volume can go…umm…convert itself? Stay tuned for: flashcards of polyatomic ions!

A quick school update:

Math professor: think holy-rolling Baptist preacher complete with rearing back and saying extremely long sentences all in one breath getting more and more excited towards the end. So, I don’t think I’ll be falling asleep there.

Chemistry professor: eastern Tennessee accent, nice real-life awareness, hopes to make Chemistry fun. The class is overly crowded.

Let’s see….I definitely wanted to smack a few 18-year-olds in the face. Which, no biggie, that’s a normal feeling. So far I like doing homework, so that’s good. Now I just need to figure out how to also make money while residing in the land of math. Small detail. (not really small, though, is it? Ah well. Back to math!)

(Do we know who the God of Math is? Where should I put the altar? What kind of tributes and offerings are appropriate? Incense? Flowers? Honey? Sheep? Drawings of numbers? Solved math problems?)

*To be clear, I do have memory of learning this math….ten…eleven…fourteen years ago. As one would reasonably expect, I have never, ever, ever had to use it during that entire time. So….it’s not exactly functional knowledge so much as a memory of knowledge. It’s in the vein of – I remember how to do my old bars routines, but that doesn’t mean I can actually do them now. I just remember being able to. So, all of us who protested “but we’ll never need this for real life” were absolutely right. Unless real life involves going back to school to study it once more (for something that on the far other side, won’t actually use it in any direct applications). Now I’m just procrastinating, though. Have a happy Tuesday!

2012

2012-01-03T16:20:00.001-05:00

Well. Happy New Year, friends. The posts I’d constructed in my head over the past few days have all fallen out. It’s cold today, snowy. New Year’s eve was bright and clear, many friends and great music to accompany dancing our way into the new year. The first day of the year started surprisingly warm and slowly turned cold. Before the real chill arrived however, we found our way to a grassy spot to watch the sun set on the first day of this new year.

And yes, sometimes there is a plastic bag in the tree in your view. Sometimes, you have to appreciate those things too. They are going to be there either way, so you might as well find a way to integrate it.

For many years now we’ve had a traditional party with a familiar group of folks. This year was different – new faces and new friends, new ideas. It feels right in a lot of ways, just as running into old and deep friends did the night before. We talk a lot about coming down off the mountain, how changed it feels to be more down in it. I don’t think I always integrate that past thoughts though. I have a lot of work to do in the world, these next years. I’m still pretending it hasn’t quite happened yet, but frankly, it is happening.

The moon rose just as the sun set, perfectly balanced for just a moment.

Right now, a lot of that work seems to have to do with trusting, putting one foot in front of the other and accepting that even though I have no idea how any of this is going to work, that the right thing to do is move forward on the path. When I first typed that sentence it said “how I’m going to make it work” but I think that’s probably one of the easiest and biggest mistakes to make. Thinking that I make it work is to limit it quite dramatically. And yet, knowing that the path curves, my brain wants to know what the path looks like before we get there, and taming the ego monkey to being ok with the unknown is not something I consider to be under my belt just yet.

Stepping back with the hippo sometimes lets me see more clearly the space set out for me. That red patch of blanket was a pretty perfect nest for those moments, sipping champagne and pear juice and talking about the ideal flags to hoist on the flagpoles behind us.

So, here we are, 2012. I’m of a mind to side with the transcenders rather than the enders on this game, and I’m hopeful for what the year brings.

I bought text books today. The most expensive of all books known to mankind, it was somehow more affordable to buy new than used. I am not sure how this happened. I also scouted out my classrooms so that my first day back in the world involves only the stress of parking and being on time. I have good news. On a campus with some of the most ugly (think institutional) interiors and murder-stairwells (they’re creepy, that is, I don’t think anybody has ever actually been murdered on said campus) I get to take classes in the prettiest building (that I’ve seen thus far), meaning walls with paintings and murals and windows and exclamations of excitement over science(!) everywhere. So, that’s nice.

Speaking of science, check out what the seeds in last night’s squash were doing….

We ate it anyway. I wanted to rush the little seedlings to dirt, but couldn’t quite figure how I would manage squash plants indoors at this time of year. Ah well. My onions are up outside, we’ll see how they handled the snow.

Merry, Merry

2011-12-28T19:25:00.001-05:00

I have had my computer closed for over a week; probably a record for me in recent years.
We’ve had the usual tour ‘o cities for the holidays, although recent years have created the pleasant illusion that I am now in control of this tour.
Highlights:

My paternal grandmother has for years been telling me that she would like to “just smash the dishes” so I made that happen. The purchase of smashing dishes complete, all that was left was to put the sunglasses on Nana and let her go to town. It was a rare smile as she held up the dishes, and let me tell you – the dishes I picked out didn’t just smash, they *shattered* and it was awesome.
The introduction of the hippopotamus: upon hearing that my mother hadn’t heard a holiday song this year that amused her I took it upon myself (filial duty and all that) to find and play it. So, the hippopotamus song. Later, when a box under the tree informing me that my “real” Christmas present was under the tree at my in-laws, we somehow made the jump to there being a hippopotamus under their tree. In my family, it’s not so unbelievable. My uncle owns a large rhinoceros sculpture, after all.
The Muppet Christmas Carol. It’s the only Christmas Carol in my world, and we watch it at my folk’s house every year.
Christmas trees. I missed having one this year, so gathering with family around trees was all the more delightful. Each tree tells it’s own story of the families.
Screaming children: I may have lost some hearing this year come Christmas morning. However, it is still utterly charming to watch their extreme excitement, even if it comes with a rollercoaster involving cheering, crying and of course, screams of delight.
Family stories. This year, we learned a lot about Nunie (sp?), Moth’s grandmother, and her family history. I’ve brought home a book on Rembrandt to read that belonged to her and Moth brought home a repaired watch that she (Nunie) gave to her husband. This was a watch that Moth thought he’d lost (he’d looked for it and felt badly about the loss) while his mother had the watch and felt a bit miffed that he didn’t want it. Problems solved!

Oh, and about that hippopotamus…it’s AWESOME. Moth, my folks, and his folks teamed up to gift me with a seriously classy and highly intelligent beast. It is not, of course, an actual hippo in any way, shape or form. It’s one of these:

My goal now is to take pictures of pretty much everything. Only, my preferences are very obvious in my pictures. I am a landscape person. I like things – mostly natural but still lifes of various kinds are pretty nifty too. Humans are only interesting to me if they are outdoors, or I’m in a particular mood. So, my pictures of flowers are great, and of humans, just average. Perhaps I can work on that.

Fire good. Somewhere, in some home, there is always a fire to cozy up to at Christmas.

Another most wonderful event in these holidays has been that Lione found her way to the right-hand coast and to my home. With her man, even.

When first I saw this spring at the foot of a mighty oak, I promised myself that if ever I was in the area with Lione, I would take her there. I remembered this promise today, fortunately. Sheer magic, of course. One should expect nothing else with this sort of combination.

Oh, another highlight: garden generosity. Apparently, dropping the f-bomb in your woe over a garden-free reality does net you some green love.

Thanks, guys! Your garden rocks and has been most delicious to enjoy.

I’m still learning the most basic of realities with this camera. Even using the point-and-shoot options is resulting in some very exciting results. Trees! Clouds! Focus!

Up next: I take pictures of things and show them to you!

(Did you think I was kidding?)

Ok, done for now.
December was busy, tiring, satisfying. The holidays included wonderful quality time with friends and with family. We’ve been warm, well-fed and so very blessed.

Bright and Shiny

2011-12-10T22:54:00.001-05:00

I was having a conversation recently with someone who rather dislikes Christmas. Having held this position myself for a few years, it’s a familiar argument.

Winter is hard. It’s hard to live in the dark, hard to function in the cold. The sun rises later, it sets earlier and the soul is tasked with keeping it’s peace through a night longer than is truly comfortable. Vitality fades back into the roots, and we become more internal. It can mean facing ourselves in a different way. For those who are feeling this intensely, Christmas can feel like having all that darkness shoved in their face, made all the worse that they are “supposed” to be feeling festive and jolly, when really, they are tired and fatigued by the everyday of winter. I get that. Certainly I’ve felt that.

What I also get is this: there is a reason why there are so many birth festivals that take place in the dark, so many festivals of light. It isn’t based on facts, it is based on needs. In the dead of winter, near the shortest day, we all want to see light again. We all want to be warm and well fed and cared for. And this mass agreement to all get together and make things a little more shiny, to light candles in whatever configuration, to make bright the darkness and give one another not just trinkets, but needed items, well. That’s just a way of getting through. It’s a way of keeping it together, collectively. And I like it, these days.

Generosity in a time when you are traditionally drawing from your stores, reasons to celebrate, whatever they are, at a time that is taxing on many levels? It sounds like a good plan to me. There is time for burrowing in the cave, embracing the dark, finding stillness and coming to know oneself deeply. There is also a time to gather and remind each other that indeed, we’re in it together and the light does return.

Tuesday (And I’ll Behave)

2011-12-06T13:17:00.001-05:00

Ok. On a good behavior Tuesday I might even remember what my promise was in posting.

After my post of cursing, I was shoved outside by the unspeakable forces of taking action to plant a few onions. Whether it will work or not I’m not sure but after dirty hand and sprout-hungry little bulbs, I did feel better. I was then rewarded for my actions by the goji plant. They must have come on just after the move, but my older plant (the one that is mine, not my cousin’s) made berries. I brought this little Himalayan baby home three years ago and just last week, I ate my very first tasty fresh berry.

It was the first fresh berry I had ever seen and eaten. Oh, it was delicious. I look forward to future years where there might be so many as to have a dried stash of them for over winter. I’ll also know to actually check the plants next year come fall.

The dark is ever more noticeable this time of year as the short days have been gray and wet. At a recent gathering, a group of us sat around a fire late, late into the night. Any other time of year we would have sat there through towards dawn, wandering in arm-in-arm only as we saw the sun rising over the ridge to sleep for a few hours before reconvening over coffee. Not so in this month. For hours we expected dawn but the night only got colder, stayed dark. We were finally herded in where we stood by the wood stove, marveling at the dark of night and relaxing into warmth before tumbling to sleep, quiet and secure in one another’s company. I awoke under a skylight to gray and the stark outline of winter trees.

It’s official: I have hidden the boxes we probably won’t unpack and we’ve had guests over for dinner. We live here by the stream. At least until we don’t. But, I’ll worry about that later. There is a lot happening between now and then. I can’t remember the last time my calendar looked so very crowded.

The yellow walls remind me of my grandmother. The living room yellow, the kitchen rust red, the bathroom blue, the bedroom green. Amazingly, our art seems to thrive exactly where we planned it to be, even before realizing the colors.

The cooking is back. It never leaves for long, but I’m always happy when what I want to do most is make food and am full of ideas with a list of meals in my head.

Fresh garlic and thyme from a friend’s farm. I don’t’ think there can be such a thing as too much garlic.

These seeds are unique in that they are a cross between giant Tuscan squash and butternut squash. It’s the best of both worlds – the increased size of the Tuscan but the rich flavor of the butternut. Mmm.

I’m just going to say it.

2011-12-01T15:05:00.001-05:00

I’ve got something to say about not having a garden, and I’m not going to put on gloves and be nice about it. My true and heartfelt response to not having a garden is this: fuck that shit. Seriously. Fuck it. Now, I know that it’s December and for many people it isn’t garden season anyway, but if it were me having a garden, which for the past years it has been, December is a bountiful time of leafy greens. Sure, you’re having to cover constantly if you’ve got delicate items like lettuce out there, but the kale and collards only get sweeter in the frosty cold. Basically, I think it’s total bullshit that I don’t get to eat piles of greens everyday. What a crap decision that was. I could have planted in pots and hauled them wherever I went or planted the minute I landed here. I’m all green deprived and there is no way my budget could handle buying as many greens as I want to eat. Those suckers are like 2.79 each for a bunch the size I bring in for a single side. So if anyone ever hears me even thinking of not having a garden, I want you to reach your hand through the screen and grab me by the collar. That ought to provide a suitable shock to return my brain to reasonable function. Thanks in advance.

I remember fondly that snow a few years ago where we were stuck without water, power, heat or the ability to leave. I stuck my hand down through eighteen inches of snow and pulled out massive handfuls of greens, which I cooked on an open fire built in the walkway to the front door. My poor little tea kettle has never recovered; I don’t possess enough elbow grease to scrub off what sitting directly in a fire does to a kettle. But. Greens, by the handful, in a massive snowstorm. Winter gardens rock.

Please, don’t think it’s all cursing about lack of greenery here. Oh no, I am hilariously full of cheer because of the season. So far the only Christmas décor that has been located are boxes of glass bulbs that Moth’s mother gave us last year. So, strings of glass bulbs it is!

Shiny! There is something about glass that plastic just really cannot replicate.

The lighting has changed so drastically. Even in the brighter parts of the day, there exist dark shadows everywhere the light doesn’t reach. I was chalking it up to the new house and lack of entire walls of windows and that ridgeline in the way, but to be honest, I think part of it is just winter.

There is something about shadows that make the light seem all the brighter.

When we got married a friend gave us a tiny little plant. I had only two leaves on it and was in a pot only slightly larger than a shot glass. It was a wedding plant, a slip of paper read. Much like a marriage, it prefers plenty of sunlight and lots of water, although it is capable of surviving with far less. Our plant is now at least four or five times as tall with little babies at the base, one of which is larger than the original.

We both look for and get excited about new growth on the marriage plant. These are our our two little sets of baby leaves at the moment.

Sometimes when the plant looks a little unhappy, we stop and look at each other and say “Hey, is there anything we need to talk about ‘cause the wedding plant looks unhappy.” Of course, sometimes the plant just needs a bigger pot with room to stretch out…it is a plant, after all. If we knew what it was we might could take better care of it, but since it’s all giant and sending up new shoots, I think we’re doing alright! People don’t come with instruction manuals either so it’s probably perfectly fitting.

Highlights from the Week

2011-11-29T12:54:00.001-05:00

Toys, toys, toys: After getting the Christmas decorations down, my mother and I spent a while distributing them throughout the house before setting the rest of them on one end of the table to be dealt with later. At dinner, however, a marvelous transformation occurred. No longer idle items meant to be gazed upon, they became something much more amusing: toys! My father went through them all, deciding whether he liked them, what they could do, and recreating them in some cases. The most versatile was a stand (for a plate or image I suppose) which served as sleigh, gun, and percussion instrument amongst other roles. It was an entirely hilarious dinner. The look on his face was not unlike his expression while watching the vignette in Pulp Fiction where Christopher Walken tells the story of the watch. (It’s a look of pure amusement, the corners of his mouth tilting up, eyes bright.) At least we know I come by it honestly : )

Keep your nose to the grindstone: Recent advice from my grandfather, that. I wanted to make sure he knew that I was going back to school. Being the educator that he was, it seemed important. He’s still there, awake and knowing behind the blue of his eyes. He always perks when he sees me, smiling, asking questions. This is significant, in a way, as he’s not much for talking anymore. He didn’t realize I was there this last visit at first, so when I made my way to the side of his hospital bed I got the pleasure of surprising him and seeing that smile, meant for me.

Morning chats: I’m not sure what it is, but there is always a special quality to the conversations had in the morning before leaving my folk’s house. It worked out pretty perfectly this last time – I got up, chatted for an hour or so with my mother while she got ready for her day and as she was leaving my dad walked out and I spent the next hour chatting over coffee with him. I always enjoy talking politics with my father – he pays attention to the talking heads and tends to know far more of those little details that add up to mean something you don’t get just be glancing.

Welcome Home : Moth told me “welcome home” several times, ranging from heartfelt to jokingly. I am so glad I got the extra time with my parents, and also, it is good to be home. The weather forecast is jerking us around – I’m ready for my snow, and they keep changing their minds. Flurries, now inches, now flurries. Come on, if the deep south is snowy, surely there’s plenty in the front for us mountain dwellers!

Saturdays are Just Like Tuesdays

2011-11-26T17:44:00.001-05:00

Well. I’ve been blogging in other people’s comments instead of here lately. And, while I enjoy such discourses greatly, it doesn’t really count. It’s like cleaning someone else’s kitchen….yours still has to be done. It’s easier, though, in much the same way.

So. Here we are. Well, I am. I’m visiting with my folks for a few day while Moth lives and breathes work for a few more days. Everyone made it for Thanksgiving, which was full of food and later, punkin’ chunkin’ which is exactly what you think it is, only on a way bigger scale than I ever would have imagined. Seriously, catapults and slingshots and windmill launchers and pumpkins flying thousands of feet through the sky. (I was not present for this in person mind you, it was dinner table conversation turned into the random discovery of televised championships).

Christmas season has officially started with the pulling of boxes from the attic. There are so many humorous memories and so many embarrassing pieces of childhood art, as well as the far more sentimental pieces. Moments of standing there, remembering, looking quietly at past and future simultaneously. Oh, and we planted onions. I’m going to find out if it’s too late for my little garden as there are extras and if there’s one thing I’m usually up for, it’s giving things a shot in the garden. I do also fall prey to pro-life gardening (oh, it grew, let’s leave it be) which is a terrible approach. You should always thin your carrots. It’s just how the world works.

A box of old shirts was found. How is it that my grandfather’s shirts fit me perfectly? He was tall, bigger than I, and not prone to wearing terribly tight clothing. Still, shirts with trains on them are entirely too delightful to question. A few new pieces, trains and quilts, fitting beyond reason (in both directions really, as I’m much taller and longer than my grandmother) that will be sweet memories as I layer them on.

Day two with no coffee, I think we’re close to winning. I go through phases with coffee that begin with casual drinking and transition into leaning heavily on it to get things done. No matter how much support you give your adrenals, it just isn’t good to lean for too long, so back off we go. Sad to be doing it in winter when it’s all the more delightful. I’d better find some truly amazing teas for cold mornings by the fire.

(Hello, I am rambling. Onions, trains, Christmas, tea! How was your day?)

That Day Again

2011-11-15T23:27:00.001-05:00

The screens on the windows here are driving me nuts. Cool things happen outside my house but any attempts to document said happenings result in pictures taken through a screen. At best in bright daylight you can achieve something like this….

When fifteen turkeys spend their morning in your yard, it’s hard not to want pictures. Check out the feathers on this one…well, groan at the picture quality first and then imagine how cool the feathers are in your head, m’kay?

I feel the need to make it up to you, after the horror that is that picture quality. Here, let me show you show you the sights from our last hike on the mountain. It will make your eyes feel better, I promise.

See? All better.

It has been a long, crazy day involving uhauls, antiques, a theatre set and forgetting to drink water. The water part I realized once I was in class tonight. We were only part way through qi gong, there being meditation, post training and form, plus whatever else Sifu had up his sleeve yet to go when I realized why I was so very, very thirsty. Fortunately, I have a trick for getting through hard classes. Snag the middle space and stare at the picture of Grandmaster Lee Kwan Shan. No matter how thirsty or tired or shaky my legs, staring at that picture gets me through.

Just so I am not throwing out random names, for those interested: Grandmaster Lee Kwan Shan was fifth generation Wah Lum Praying Mantis, a style that originated from the Shaolin Temple. Grandmaster Pui Chan, his final student, is responsible for bringing it to the United States. My Sife was (is) a student of Grandmaster Pui Chan, one of his first, actually.

Want to know something I really like? I like how much rednecks get into holidays. While this may sound like a sweeping generalization, and it is, I have to tell you, there are numerous full-on Christmas displays up and running. We’re talking detailed with lights, greenery, lawn decoration, nativities, holiday words…and all of it associated with some family’s trailer. Rednecks + Christmas = Festive! So, I’m enjoying my drive home already.

I’m going back to school so that I can go back to school. Hopefully I can find a way to make more money while doing so. We’ll see. I feel better about making crap money while being in school than I do not…at least in this moment. As if homework justifies it somehow. I may also feel better about working a crap job if it’s paying for school than I would just doing it. I’m a snob, fine. I’ll do what it takes eventually though. It’s a long term plan at this point because it never occurred to me that I might one day want to take years worth of chemistry, so I didn’t start back in the day when I was getting my liberal arts degree. Ha. I haven’t had chemistry since high school, actually, which I am pretty sure means that I’ll need to start with chem-for-idiots because there’s no chance I could just pick up where I left off over a decade ago. Here are the things I remember from high school chemistry: I sat in front of Andrew, don’t play with the Bunsen burner, don’t touch dry ice, a few elements off the table, the number of electrons on various rings and some rudimentary bonding and balancing. Not going to cut it. So, off we go. Science! Mrs Ray would be so proud. (Mrs Ray was my eight grade science teacher who told me that ladies could be scientists too). My grandfather will be pleased to hear this as well, I think. He’s been giving me money for my school fund since I announced that I wanted to keep going to school. It doesn’t add up to much when you consider the cost of school and books, and I’m taking the cheapest route I can find considering the debt I plan to occur in making my name Dr. Honey…but man, who cares. There are so many possible diversions between here and there. More science never hurt anybody in the meantime. Moment to moment, I’m here. On the couch. Listening the rain. Tired. Still thirsty after a few glasses of water. Waiting for Moth to get home. Contemplating taking screens off of windows. Pleased that the chimney has been cleaned. Breathing into the possibilities.

My grandfather, my father’s father, is transitioning from living. His health has been poor for some time now, and while a pacemaker keeps his heart pumping and so his blood flowing, it is clear that his interest in living, his joy in life is waning. He perks, to be sure, but oh, he seems tired. For me, a very good thing has happened in the process. Everything that I resented as a teenager, all the struggle I had with accepting and being accepted and how I was treated and what I was told….it’s gone. I mean, it was more my grandmother who I clashed with, but as a teenager you do some unjust clumping in your head. All those feelings, though? Just, vanished. On my last visit there I found that some time when I wasn’t looking, it just flowed away, slipping off like a shed skin. It has been replaced with profound compassion and love, and I’m very grateful for that.

I’m also remembering a lot of funny little details and the coincidences that are, but aren’t, like how my grandfather got all into green tea and blueberries….and how my house is of course full of green tea and blueberries. He was all about antioxidants; I wasn’t even half listening at the time, but here I am, remembering and laughing that it turned out this way anyway.

Just One

2011-11-04T08:25:00.001-04:00

The test picture I sent (after the other nine failed to arrive) is here now. Please to enjoy this little corner of our new land.

PS- Mamacrow, my up-the-hill neighbor just planted forget-me-nots.

Warm

2011-11-04T08:00:00.000-04:00

I've been up for an hour and it's still not light outside. I disapprove. Mostly of the missing light part. For some reason I haven't been minding getting up early lately. I stay awake and feel fine. This is a new thing, mind you, as normally I am the queen of sleep and morning has long been a great time for sleeping, daylight or things to do being absolutely no impediment. Alas, winter. At least I'm not cold. (Fire success!)

I have some excuses for not having pictures up yet. Would you like to hear them? I didn't think so. Moving on, then. Actually, I have precious little to say at this very moment, so I'll leave you with two other things of great excellence and return when I'm feeling chatty (or when those pictures and/or camera finally show up).

The first is the final passage from Chuang Tsu's Inner Chapters. The book itself is a companion volume to the Tao Te Ching and where Lao Tsu (of the Tao Te Ching) captures deep mystery in an ethereal and vast wholeness, Chuang Tsu is witty and pointed, sharp and to the point.

The ruler of the South Sea was called
Light; the rule of the North Sea,
Darkness; and the ruler of the Middle
Kingdom, Primal Chaos. From time to
time, Light and Darkness met one
another in the kingdom of Primal
Chaos, who made them welcome. Light
and Darkness wanted to repay his
kindness and said, "All humans have seven
openings with which they see, hear, eat,
and breathe, but Primal Chaos has none.
Let us try to give him some." So every
day they bored one hole, and on the
seventh day, Primal Chaos died.

Translation: Gia-Fu Feng

Every time I read this, I snort at the end. Out loud. I even did so in front of my Sifu when he first recommended the text to me. When I looked up from my snort of laughter, there was a mirthful twinkle in his eye - the kind that comes from years of reading the text, no doubt. And, I think he predicted my reaction and tastes to begin with, handing me the book and telling me to read the last page first.

And also, now that it has been two hours, leaves hover bright in seeming mid-air, trees trace the gray of the sky yet without sun, I can see the yellowing leaves of the wine berries, the bright red of the burning bushes, and so I leave you with this, a cheering thought about being an adult.

Trial Run

2011-10-29T11:19:00.001-04:00

Last night it was time to test the new house and it's ability to warm up via my own behaviors. Sure, you can heat with this mechanized central system, but frankly, that still creeps me out. (It just...turns on...whenever it wants to. I'm sure we'll become friendly eventually.) I'm much more interested in the building of fires. They might not be the cleanest options, but frankly when it comes to picking between a petroleum product, burning coal (which is what our local power plant uses, as well as a small influx of sustainable sources) or wood...I don't think there is any clear winner or loser. So. Until I have a better affordable option, fire! Fire makes warm. Fire can also make too hot, so respect and care are also important.

Fires also directly involves more of my senses, it involves me in my own survival in a way that is beyond just paying for it, it create responsibility and so opportunity for feeling victorious. If you have ever created your own structure outdoors and then stood under it during a storm, dry, safe and proud of yourself while the rest of the world soaks - it feels about like that. Building a fire, getting it going, being warm in your home while the world outside freezes, it feels good. And I like that. I imagine there are jobs that feel like that too. I hope to have one of those some day. After I get the 23 degrees necessary, of course. However, we were talking about fire, weren't we.

And so, the verdict: within an hour the house was warm, the blower was on and I was counting myself victorious. I haven't quite figured out the most efficient use yet, after my whole day and a half of experience. Obviously the blower only turns on to a good burny fire, and I'm supposing the blower to be the best way to heat the entire house. This is quite different from the giant furnace wherein burny fire was only for the "get going" phase and "long slow smolder" was the key to remaining warm without burning through half a cord of wood in a week. I'm trying the smolder version this morning. No blower and more of a chill, yet the temperature seems to be remaining pretty consistent. The best part, really, was seeing coals in the morning. Now, I was used to loading huge tree hunks into a giant furnace and then hoping for coals in the morning even with the damper all the way down. Last night I went to bed with a blazing fire burning, a fire that consisted of what I would consider sticks and a few small chopped pieces of wood, blower going, and woke up to a house that was only two degrees colder than it was when I went to bed and hot coals in the little stove. This bodes well I think. What it also bodes is a whole lot of chopping wood because even the pre-chopped wood we have is at the large end of what the little stove can hold. On the bright side, I'll be able to carry in a day and night's worth of wood all by myself!

I stood in the living room of the mountain house last night after my final cleaning, watching night fall. There's been less mental drama than I expected. The feeling is much more "and now I'm here" than anything else. I'm really, really, really looking forward to having fewer boxes everywhere and being able to properly use our new space. I'm too much of a wuss to carry out empty ones in the cold though and my car is still full from last night. So, boxes it is, I guess. I am finding many things about this new space to be things I want, and even as I find myself comparing it a lot (and the they are very different spaces, comparisons can be made in just about every regard), I'm not finding either one lacking.

And lastly, a decor question: why do people think that moose are appropriate Appalachian cabin decor? It's like putting sea otters on the wall for all that it makes sense. We have neither moose nor sea here, so if you're aiming for "charming rustic Appalachia," perhaps you'd best brush up on the animals that actually live here. Don't get me wrong, moose are totally awesome; and they also only visit states that border the chilly preferred-climate lands of the north. The end.

You can be grateful on Wednesdays, too. (Not that I stick with my theme)

2011-10-26T08:10:00.002-04:00

Well friends, here we are. I didn't quite make it for a Tuesday post, but that would be because we finally got home and unloaded our last load at nine, had a bite to eat and them fell tirelessly into putting things away...right up until the point where all but fell over into bed.

It would be lovely to tell you I'm all done and here now, but there are a few more trips. More outside things, more wood to cart (I keep wondering if we have enough and then Moth nudges my brain into remembering the capacity difference of a stove vs a furnace), those piles of coats and knickknacks and found objects that litter the house....let me say this plainly: moving sucks. Ah well, it ought to seem easy next time, right? Easier anyway, as we're under no illusion of living in this house forever, which I at least fell prey to in the last one. Speaking of prey, we heard a great horned owl here last night. I opened the windows so I could listen to it's call. (I welcome meeting our human neighbors, and I'm just as excited about our animal neighbors. I can have bird feeders again! This is exciting!)

It's a different perspective on the world here. This sweet little space is nestled in. When I look out the back window, it looks out over the drive, trees hanging overhead. Outside the porch the hillside climbs quickly overhead. When I go outside, I look up. It feels very different than sitting up in the sky, looking out over clouds like the ocean and being eye-level with distant ridges. Here, it feels more of the earth, looking up at sky, the trees overhead. The morning comes differently as well. No more watching the sun light the distant southerly (and also east, obviously) flatlands to know that it's heading towards you, but rather, dark, and from dark, misty gray and then suddenly, colors! Now, there is not yet direct light, but that shift didn't take long - fifteen minutes?

Things that seem odd at the moment - clocks and thermostats. There are clocks here, and they tick. Captain Hook would lose his mind in here. Some I'll move, some I'll keep, but the ticking, the ticking! The thermostat - now, there is a lovely wood stove and I plan on using it. There is also some degree of, you know, temperature control via a box on the wall. Even though it has not been all that long away from such things, I feel weird about it. I thought that I was in control of how we use the resources! I put wood in the stove to burn, I turn the heaters on and off...right? I feel like here the house is in control somehow, even as I know that I get to press the buttons. Am I being overly dramatic? Probably. It's probably a very nice little thermostat and probably won't say things like "I wouldn't do that if I were you" when I go to change the temperature and let's be honest, when I leave for an entire day and come home late, I'll surely even be glad it was there, keeping the pipes from freezing in the absence of a fire-tender.

And so, here we are. Piles of boxes and plants everywhere. Busy days ahead, and now we get to learn to call a new place home. The stream rushes sweetly outside the window, birds are chirping and it promises to be warm and lovely today. I'd say we're off to a pretty good start.

A Tale of Two Animals on Tuesday

2011-10-18T15:20:00.001-04:00

It was a nice day out. Lovely and warm, the air overhead filled with tumbling leaves, the yellow-orange and russet brown overhead offset by the green, yellow and red of the grass and apples underfoot. Moth and I were out digging up plants, collecting buckets and generally readying ourselves for the move. We were laughing over our diminishing collection of compost buckets- two more were missing and everything had been knocked around overnight. It also seems that the dog friends, who have been stealing abandoned pvc pipes from all around the property and secreted them off to their hideout discovered the straight piping from the laundry and attempted to dig it up. That they had managed, but the carrying off hasn’t really worked out for them, what with it being connected. Oh, dog friends.

In moving a few planters, I carefully turned them over to check for bugs. Inside the top one there was a large, shiny black spider. “Oooh, I thought. That’s a big spider. I’ll show Moth” and off I trotted to bring him back.

Moth looked at the spider for a moment and said. “I think that’s too big, but that could be a black widow.”

Oh. Well, only one (good) way to find out.

Yes, it turns out, the answer was yes. It was a great big black widow. A Northern Black Widow, to be specific, as you can tell from the “broken” hourglass shape on her abdomen. And so knowing that they are a wait-for-you-to-come-to-them non-jumping sort, we took lots of pictures and generally admired her dangerous, shiny self. She was quite a cooperative model.

[Blogger keeps asking me to sign up for things to post video, which I didn’t need before…footage to come, maybe]

Then, off I went to deposit her in a far corner well away from any houses. As I walked along, I enjoyed the fall scenery. Then, I spotted something out of place, something I recognized.

Yes, there underneath the pine was one of the compost buckets.

Lid destroyed and contents eaten. There may even have been a bit of licking-clean involved.

Not too stinky, really, and an easy clean-up, so off I went, the bucket shoved into a compost bag. In the far back corner of the yard there is a bear trail where bags of trash will occasionally show up. It seemed a rather likely place, so I went to check. It’s very easy to think nasty thoughts about the folks who bought the house out from under us, but fortunately for our karma, we think highly of the man doing the selling, so I figured I’d better ride the property of bear-buckets.

This smaller bucket was only stolen last night or early this morning and they hadn’t finished everything they’d dumped out. It was a little stinky, but I left the compost right where it was and only took away the bucket.

Also, this was a pretty gnarly looking spider, I thought. Not sure what it is:

In case that wasn’t the image you wanted left in your head today, here’s something to cleanse the palate.

If I manage to post next Tuesday, chances are I’ll being doing it from our new place! It’s further north and is our cozy spot for winter: a six month lease in a tiny little home with a well-placed wood stove, the perfect place to stay warm over winter whilst planning to expand back out in spring.

Twosday

2011-10-11T19:30:00.002-04:00

The table is set for four and I have accomplished a great deal.

Yes, that's right, my mother has been here. My grandmother is a getting-it-done kind of woman and my mother takes after her. (Great-grandmother of that line was the same so I'll assume we're just passing that down in the blood and brood.) I'll get there :) Currently I get things done in fits and starts.

We packed and we sorted and we boxed and we thew away, we planned and we plotted. It was awesome and helpful. I can groove with my mother in a way that gets things done happily and effectively.

We had opportunity and cause to venture up into family lands as well to take care of some land business. It's a stunningly beautiful area, that we come from, even if the erm... civilization...is a little different then that which I've chosen. It's still just flat out BEAUTIFUL there. I was pleased to be able to take Moth up there, introduce him to family, the land, and fold him evermore closely into my life and lineage. And, we come from good stock.

I had the pleasure of listening to my great-uncle tell stories of his father, and while I knew from my Nana that he was a pretty amazing man, I think listening to my uncle really brought that to light in new ways. And, it's always fun to be around the side of the family that passed down that spark in my father's eye, his mischievous smile, his calm and engaged demeanor with a hilarious steak deeper than words can describe.

And so, the table is set for four. And while I adore the twoness of Moth and I, and take great delight in how much we manage to be together, there is another part of me that thrills and keens at the sight of more place mats at the table. Family and friends and loved ones are food unto themselves.

Pumpkins!

2011-10-07T11:28:00.001-04:00

Today is pumpkin day! I harvested the final pumpkin and have begun the delicious process of eating them! The larger two are currently in the oven with a weensy little butternut squash, soon to become soup.

Happily, these friends were full of seeds so I have a large and slimy pile in the kitchen awaiting rinsing, toasting and devouring.

Normally with pumpkins it’s all “scoop out the insides and get on with it” but I found myself very charmed by even the way the seeds were settled inside the strands of pumpkin-goo. It was both easier and more interesting to separate seeds. So far, these pumpkins are highly cooperative.

Next year I will be giving more time and attention to pumpkins as given the 8,344,346 flowers they made before intense drought, this could be a very bountiful crop with a little extra work. For neglected pumpkins on a hillside, I feel like these are pretty good specimens.

Also, there is no better fall decoration than pumpkins with little vine curls still on top:

October

2011-10-06T09:13:00.002-04:00

Clever Bears

After months of bear antics involving our compost buckets, they've finally taken that final step. Earlier this week one of the filled buckets was in the middle of the yard and the other was just gone. I suppose they finally decided to haul it off into the woods to work on extracting the contents as they'd been having little luck in doing so there by the porch

Our buckets are secure-locking containers that we got from a compounding pharmacy. They aren't even necessarily easy to get open even if you're a dexterous two-handed person who knows how the mechanism works. I'm sure the bears will eventually just tear it apart and snarf down whatever it is in there they've got a hankering for.

I am actually rather relieved that they stole into the woods with it as I think I'd be much more bothered to find a broken bucket and compost all over the yard.

--- --- ---

Snow and Flowers

On Saturday I woke up, the world fuzzy without my glasses but white in a way that I recognize as belonging to winter. "Is it snowing?" I asked Moth, and indeed it was. We had been planning on being camping this weekend but plans changed, and for that I'm glad. It was pretty cold in my house that morning (brr, fire time!) but not nearly so cold as it would have been in a tent. Later we had friends up to the mountain and went hiking. We followed bear trails and went to the overlooks and had a grand time. Walking through a field on top of a mountain we saw a great many wildflowers and again, snow. Tiny flakes that stuck to my jacket and added an interesting element to our hike, which was full of plant IDing and the eating of leaves as we taught each other the edibles we knew.

--- --- ---

Pumpkins!

I have four, there is a fifth outside who could probably come in. I have a a recipe for pumpkin soup (roasted pumpkin, cashews, coconut milk, etc) that I'm very excited to try. I feel contrary to making pumpkin pie for some reason, I want to make new and interesting pumpkin things. Also, these are my first pumpkins and I'm quite proud of them.

Autumnal Excitement in Shades of Yellow

2011-09-26T01:24:00.001-04:00

Do you see what I see here?

If your answer was “why, isn’t that Amanita Muscaria var Guessowii soon to be known as Amanita Amerimusaria?” then you DO see what I see. If you saw leaves and some neat-looking mushrooms, we’re pretty much on the same page too.

You are likely familiar with their northern and/or Eurasian cousins who are classic red with white spots – the toadstool of lore, ingredient in witch’s flying salves/potions and of course, what sent Alice down that rabbit hole….or Lewis Carroll, anyway. (How else would he know about the size distortion effect?) Common also to real-life fairy circles and cartoon gnomes, these are some pretty popular mushrooms. Except with flies – apparently if you put one of these fly agaric mushrooms in a glass of milk all your flies will drink it, get high, go berserk, then drop dead. That part I think works with both the red variety and the yellow, which I found a family of today. Eastern American Yellow Fly Agaric, at your service! Making flies dead since…always.

It’s a whole family! The one in the back looking flat is the oldest, followed by the gently domed shape one, and the front two are the up and comers. Oh…and there’s there is sweet little baby, still dirty from pushing up through the ground:

The covering over them when they are in their baby state is known as the universal veil. That veil stays with them in various forms through life, such as their spots as well as a later around the base in some subspecies.

I did much research today to ensure that I did have the right species/subspecies. You can tell by color, spot, the skirt, the straight stipe (stem) and the ruffles at the base. You can also tell in person because when you look at the mushrooms, you just know. These mushrooms know things. All mushrooms do, their mycelia forming the very neural network of our earth, running through the roots of trees, plants, circling the planet underground and surfacing here and there in odd and sundry forms. They’ll probably save the world one day.

And so, that is my story. I found some mushrooms. I thought they were awesome. I have not harvested any to kill the flies in my house, although I am seriously considering it. I mean, when you notice a sudden fly population in the house and then not three hour later encounter fly-killing mushrooms, what are you supposed to think? I’m a little too enamored with them to harvest them; I’ll just go visit them instead.

Interspersed

2011-09-20T22:06:00.001-04:00

I hadn’t been planning on having coffee today, but when I found myself putting my wallet in the refrigerator I figured I’d better just go ahead and fix myself at least half a cup. I have been in the clouds for days up here. Grey or white are the only colors visible outside the house. It brings on that early feeling of hibernation, and an interest in lower elevations.

(This space is me trying not to jinx a house hopeful. Just know that there’s one I’m interested in and I’m waiting on a few other factors to line up.)

Moving right along….

No wait, stop. Every single one of you reading this ought to take a moment to envision me in my awesome new house or see me outside happily surveying my nice flat garden space near the stream. Thanks.

Moving onwards, I’m not sure what there is to say. Work upsets, work flows. I feel so very Busy most of the time. Hopefully that fades once I don’t spend so many hours looking for houses online and in my car. Sure, there’s the moving, but that’s happier chaos. Except the part about furniture and stairs. Urg.

I’ve started training again. I feel like such an infant in class – I remember things with my body but not my mind, or with my mind by not my body. I tire quicker but I’m so happy to be back, and Sifu has been so wonderfully welcoming. It’s probably good for my ego, honestly.

and now, I fill out applications and think happy thoughts and head to bed.

Tuesday

2011-09-13T23:51:00.001-04:00

Chinese lantern or magic lantern bloom – a much anticipated phenomena.

I bought this plant quite a while ago, in the hopes of flowers. Moth was particularly taken with them in a greenhouse we visited and I thought it would be nice to have around. It teased me around Christmas and then failed to deliver. I threatened to leave it behind when I moved, seeing as how it leapt up leggy to some four feet tall and had yet to earn it’s keep. Apparently, threats work on magic lantern plants, who know?

Meanwhile, further proof that Moth and I have but one brain between us was recently gathered. Note the fox card in the picture below (warning, cell phone pic!)

The anniversary scene – I even remembered to pack the engraved champagne flutes that Moth’s folks gave us! Not that I remembered my intended contents for said glasses, but that was secondary to the having, really.

We went card shopping together. It just worked out that way – both of us had other things to look for, so we took turns ignoring the other one looking over all the options. Eventually we started getting silly, finding all the other cards we’d get the person, the humor ones that it’s far too soon for but which are totally truthful, the insanely sappy ones that, while also truthful just aren’t our style and running over to the other one with them.

I picked out a card for Moth and carried it around for a while. Then I looked at it and thought “nah, if I get this, he’ll give me the same one. I’ll get one that’s specifically for husbands, that’s it!” and then promptly found the most ideal card ever. I was delighted. Later, Moth came up to me with a very serious look on his face an announced that he’d found the card that he wanted to give me, only he couldn’t because of the wording, but he wanted me to see it because it was the card he wanted to give – it said everything he felt. He was, of course, handing me the very card I was holding in my hand to give him. I thought for sure my face gave it away, but apparently not.

I don’t think it counts as a Tuesday post if I don’t get it in by midnight, so I’m off for now – too sleepy to be coherent much longer. More rambly unedited posts. Maybe my content will improve once I stop spending all my days trying to build a new life. Dear universe, please deliver: one perfect house, one perfect job. Thanks!

I mean…look at what a great job the universe does on its other projects….

It's Still Tuesday

2011-09-06T23:17:00.003-04:00

Squeaking in at the last minute for a few Tuesday gratitude points. It's been a busy day. Week...month...season...whatever.

Tomorrow we leave for our Anniversary trip. I've nearly been married an entire year, how did that happen? It seems both insanely fast to have been a whole year, and yet, surely I have been married for years upon years by now. We only have one brain between the two of us anyway, so it just seems normal to be there together, having the same thoughts at the same time. I am excited for our cabin in the woods, with the waterfalls and caverns and hiking and view-enjoying and you know, I don't care if it rains the whole time and we have to stay in, either, although the storm seems mostly to have passed at this point.
I drove my car home today. For a series of reasons I have been waiting to fix my car for a few months now. It is finally fixed and back in my possession, and oh, how I have missed it. I've fixed it with the intention of driving it for another year or so and then looking for something new, but in the meantime I am thrilled to be back in my car. It will be hard to find a four door car that drives so awesomely, I think.
To back up in time, I recently had a wonderful visit with my mother and grandmother. We raided the garden up here on the mountain so that wherever I go next, I can take the flowers with me. I am greatly pleased by the buckets and buckets of bulbs in my basement, waiting to go with me to our new home. It was delightful to have them here and we got a lot done as well as had plenty of time just to sit around the table and talk.
Speaking of which, I am ready to find my next house. So, hardwood floored home with big windows, southern exposure, two bathrooms, great garden space, privacy, a clean water source, in my price range and no more than 15-20 minutes away from the heart of downtown, please make yourself known to us!

Bedtime now, so this will remain unedited. Please to enjoy or ignore the typos as you will!

Rolling Through

2011-08-31T22:14:00.000-04:00

I really enjoyed Hurricane Irene. Her wind, the chilly push of air followed by the unseasonably warm heat, the entire process of her brushing by us was quite lovely.

After I'd noticed her, after we'd had clouds, a bit of rain and a very windy day by the lake, it began to get good, transformational.

Dogs barking at the wind, leaves twisting upside down, rustling and breaking loose, a sense of movement. Friends gathered. A chill in the air. Then, clarity. Stars brighter, sparkling in the sky. The milky way, the seven sisters, Jupiter and a vast darkness that only comes when there is nothing between you and the sky but clean air. A new moon and the sky so bright with stars. Driving home the next day it was lush green, and hot. Hot in a different way than our usual mountain heat. Warmth driven up, caught in the skirts of Irene and trailing languidly behind her.

In a strange way, Irene felt much like an entity. While the coast scrambled and worried and the newsmen detailed her every move and mood, I scolded her for blowing plates off the table, praised her in blowing fabrics beautifully in the breeze, and watched as her winds rushed through, bringing high energy and leaving clarity.

Let it Be

2011-08-30T18:20:00.000-04:00

My past few days have been full and delightful, packed with friends and learning, perspective and consideration. I have had sleep-overs with friends (not only fun, but somewhat necessary when you live in the mountains and can stack up as much as half an hour driving per each ten miles) and shared food and laughter and had serious conversations in the same breath as silly ones. So, consider that my gratitude list for this Tuesday. I shall now leave you with a story I wrote a while back but never posted, to make up for my lack of other things to say (or rather, the time and/or inclination to say them).

It began with a rather large bug on the kitchen floor, the sort that makes you mumble "oh god" when you realize you're going to have to transport it's disturbing corpse away. I grabbed a dead leaf that had drifted to the floor overnight and went to scoop the bug up. The moment the leaf touched it, the bug (I don't know what it was, sorry, but it was size of my pointer finger from tip to first knuckle and shiny) flailed it's limbs, then stilled. This told me two things: one- the bug wasn't dead and two-I was totally creeped out by it. Likely I made some strangled noise of "ickarg" when the bug moved. Still, it was on the floor and I had to do something. I considered getting other supplies, but something stopped me and brought my attention back to the leave in my hand. So, I extended the leaf and the bug grabbed hold, clinging tight. Making one of those teeth clench lips curled expressions I lifted and found that yes, indeed, I could now transport the bug via the leaf as it's grip was sufficiently tight. Somewhere between there and the door I went from the grimace to laughing and cheering the bug's grip on, promising it green grass and sunshine. By the time I arrived at the bug's final destination, I was rather fond of the hideous beast. I felt like somehow, we had cooperated and in the process, restored my ability to see the bug with dignity and respect. Plus, it didn't have to die on my kitchen floor and that seems better for everyone.

Vignettes

2011-08-23T08:16:00.000-04:00

My adult life has played itself out like a series of vignettes thus far.

In one, I live with my best friend, dance on stage as often as possible, train extensively and enjoy a profound if convoluted relationship with my dance partner. A sharp wit and fierce nature are my currency.

In another, I enjoy large windows with airy breezes, invite traveling healers to stay in my home, find new depth everywhere, I fall in love.

In the next, I create home for myself just north of town with my man. I buy appliances, I plant my garden, I dance barefoot in the greenhouse in early spring, I dream of bears. I leave, and it falls away to ashes.

I will now add a new vignette to the series. (How timely, Ellie, that you asked me this only yesterday. Here's the short answer.) One in which I live on a mountain top, I see bears, get married, learn about and spend my time looking at clouds, fixate on weather, host my family, find a new sense of self, learn more about the depths of life.

When we moved to the mountain a woman we met told us that to live in the wind is to invite change. Well, live in the wind we did, and change did come to us. And now, we move on, to the next in the series.
While not being here, not having this place is something that is hard to look at with great cheer because truly, it is a magical place, I am actually very excited about the potential we have moving forward. Walking into the next vignette means a new story, with new opportunities and new adventures, and I’m feeling ready.

I will miss mosquito-free summers and I look forward to a longer growing season.

I enjoyed our winter of wood heat and I love the idea of setting a temperature and returning home to it.

The drive here is beautiful and late nights out will seem more doable without switchbacks at the end of them.

We made ourselves into a family here in this house, welcomed family into our home and that continues to grow and mature with happy memories of the incubation time on the mountain.

The "and" is important, here. Nothing is being negated. All the good exists, and, there is room for a lot more. Like, maybe a house with fewer mice, normal electrical wiring and vertical walls for bookshelves. A house where I can hang my birdfeeders out (birdseed here = bears drain your feeder) and have a birdbath. The downside to most other houses though is that you have to lock your doors and your walls aren't made of windows. Oh well, I'm sure the trade-offs equal out pretty well.

Tuesday Gratitude

2011-08-16T21:17:00.000-04:00

I woke up warm this morning. The space heater was looking a little out of place as we threw off covers, untangled sweaty limbs, and commented on the heat of the day. Despite it being cold enough that I broke out the space heater briefly last night, the sun blazed in bright this morning and summer resumed. I am full of appreciation for the glory of sitting in the grass with my bare legs in the sun, the blaze on my skin slowly creeping it's way up to uncomfortable. What a thing, after that taste of cold, to seek shade!

The freedom of my days. While it rarely pays off monetarily, my ability to schedule my life exactly as I like it has many fantastic benefits. Among them are the ability to decide that what would be just perfect today would be to go into town early with Moth and hit up the library and the craft store. Alas, the library was being cleaned by inmates (which is actually pretty awesome if you ask me) so we missed that errand, but while I was at the theatre Moth visited another branch and brought me some of the books I wanted. It's a small pile of books, but probably fairly dense reading for that.

There was going to be more, but now I'm all excited about craft supplies and books, so....that's it. Happy Tuesday!

The Week Begins

2011-08-15T14:00:00.001-04:00

This morning was quite chilly. It wasn’t until noon that I shed my jacket, and much of the morning was punctuated with exclamations of how cold it was as I hopped around the house wearing both a fuzzy blanket and my bear jacket (over clothes mind you, this was no silly complaint bandied about by a person who wasn’t even properly dressed…which bears saying as this is a likely scenario where I am concerned). Cool breezes I was prepared for and delighted in. Cold fingers, well, that’s a little bit different.

I am making the acquaintance of Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris) currently, and thus far I find the introduction to be one to myself. I am not sure what her voice is, just yet, as she seems to be quite clearly intent on introducing me to my own, which I suppose is probably my answer. I shall be increasingly grateful, no doubt, for the warmth of the tea in the evenings. I will need to harvest more shortly as I only brought home enough to be introduced as opposed to set myself up with a good supply. To date, I am charmed to be making the acquaintance of the plant, who really, I have only just begun to taste the depth of, but the depth is quite clearly present.

Let’s give it up for the ladies. There is true magic in a gathering of women all diving into piles of clothing. The compliments fly thick, heavy, and truthful. There is excitement over seeing your clothes re-created on the body and in the eyes of old and new friends, of finding yourself in your new favorite shirt, of watching the parade in front of the mirrors. There is great intimacy in the comfort of bodies, in dresses being zipped and unzipped by different hands, complicated items being demonstrated by their previous owners, the assessing kind eyes of others, the “try that with one of these” followed by a random bra flying through the air (you know, that one that seems to fit everyone present, defying all that mankind knows about size, shape, form and measurements). Oh, it’s magic alright. And, there is so much more that is shared at such a gathering. Everyone returns with their new bag of clothes, their fistfuls of herbs from the land, the new ideas, the shared stories, the advice, the buoyancy that comes from spending time in the company of others who share freely their ideas, hopes, dreams, and wisdom.

The possibility of new beginnings. There is a great deal of grace in being able to look forward and see the wealth of possibilities there. It is what I think of as being the unknown; if you try pin it down into knowing, you limit yourself, you make impossible what before was fertile. You can’t see the path to your knowing, and so all comes into question, becomes blurry and disturbing. So, you don’t do that. Instead, you try to practice simply being present and aware that among all the possibilities, you don’t yet know how things shape up, exactly. Faith being your belief that they will shape up, and that it will be good. Lione, who shaped a great deal of my brain, once upon a time, used to always tell me “strangely enough, it all works out well.” It is apt to begin any such sentence with the word strange, and a very clever way of preemptively disarming a come-back. While the “strange” doesn’t always seem necessary, its continued presence is assuring.

The Simple Pleasures

2011-08-11T15:01:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it is really the little things in life that are the most exciting For example:

Surprise, it's beans! Next to my garden is a small rocky raised areas. I often throw my weeds on top of it, thus building the hill up a little more. In the past when I've cleared the garden out I have piled garden waste there before carrying it off to the compost. I've probably left plenty of my garden waste just lying there too - it gets recycled quickly and is soon invisible under the growth of sheep sorrel, mullein, wild strawberries and others. We also have a lot of wild grape up here, which is an invasive vine with large heart-shaped leaves. So, when I saw a small vine with heart shaped leaves on the pile, I assumed it was just a baby grape vine. As of yesterday, and thanks to Moth's skills of observation, we discovered that no, it was actually beans. Guess what we're having for dinner tonight?

Serrano Pepper Peach Sauce! This fine concoction has only two ingredients. I used a 3:1 ratio of peppers to peaches - in actual numbers not weight or cups, mind you. It is delicious and amazing and addictive and all thanks to my Dad. Thanks Dad, for bringing your tasty peppers grown in the hot sun of the flat lands, and also for the peaches :) I need to get some gloves so I can properly handle the habaneros.

(I ate an entire jar of the hot sauce between writing and posting this, just so you know.)

Best of Both

2011-08-10T09:58:00.001-04:00

The coolness of the wind seems an odd contrast with the tomatoes finally ripening. Still, it gets hot in the afternoon and the sky still vibrates with the beating wings of this small ferocious creatures. It would seem that they are learning to share at least a bit better. Moth recently put a stand on the four-flower feeder so that they could sit rather than hover and it’s delightful how often you see each flower attended by apparently ravenous birds, all wrapped up in their own world of nectar rather than chasing each other. While it only lasts until another bird shows up for a turn, it is quite charming when it does occur.

Usually so sleek, this is a rare glimpse of ruffled feathers.

I got to spend my weekend with family all around. I wish I could have kept them longer – it was delightful getting up in the mornings to meet my parents in the living room, sitting around a fire in the near-dark together, the magical way that dishes get washed so quickly when multiple hands do the work, how much food you can fit on a tiny grill.

We played appleball, which is exactly what it sounds like. You need a stick and tiny green apples off the ground and a good sense of humor. While instigated by my father it was my brother and I (he pitched, I hit) who stayed at it the longest. As it turns out, I can’t bat when Moth is looking at me. It sounds ridiculous, but I would be in a long string of hitting every apple thrown and he would peek, without my knowing, and I’d miss. (This was discovered after I’d told him he couldn’t watch because I can’t enjoy appleball if I miss all the time). I have no idea what’s up with that, but it’s bothersome. Hitting things with sticks has always been a strong point for my yard-sport resume.

I adore summer, and this summer in particular there really hasn’t been enough of everything I think of as summer food, and yet, without fail, the cool breeze coming in inspires hope in me. It feels new and fresh and alive again. There is almost a relief in this part of the cycle, secure in the knowledge that the coming months will be lush and abundant and that the wheel is still turning. It is comforting, that hopefully excitement, because even as I will miss the warmth, I cannot help but turn towards the next season to say, yes, this one too. And now, I’m off to pick my RED tomatoes!

And so, August

2011-08-05T16:22:00.001-04:00

The winds have changed: picking up, blowing in cool pre-Autumn breezes and making it clear that change is stirring. Of course, it still gets hazy and hot and bakes the house, drying out the soil in the lack of rain until weeding is a complete joke and you’re doing well to haul enough water up the hill to the garden before slinking off to the shade.

Oh green tomatoes, how I long for your ripe, red goodness. Surely you’ll be ready soon, yes?

I didn’t do particularly well with the garden this summer. Spring –yes, great, lots of greens and tasty goodness, but oh, summer is slow. The tomatoes are only just beginning to turn at all, and the squash and zukes are slowly trickling in. The pumpkins on the other hand, are off the hook, getting huge, huge, huge. Pumpkins cover the vine and there are about twenty more flowers ready to grow great and green before turning turning an autumnal, delicious orange. It looks like I will be getting quite a large tomato harvest though, probably all at once, and really I will be quite lucky to get that seeing as how I planted and then abandoned the garden. Okra, it would seem, likes it hotter, but I do have blooms now even if the plants still aren’t even a foot tall!

While I’ve been remiss in the vegetable garden, I do feel it a summer well spent, and certainly it isn’t over yet. It feels different, though, now. It feels like things are bubbling up underground. I’m getting itchy in the ways I usually get itchy (namely, school and education itches) and in a few new ways, too. Opening, forming, creating – and I’m knocking on wood that so far there has been a very short lag-time between idea-upset-recognition-perspective. Oh, when they crown the queen of vague, I hope you’ll all throw flowers. Pretty ones, that I can collect up and enjoy.

I am not sure how to describe the feeling of now, really. It’s not that I’ve been complacent, but I’ve been differently focused. I am ready for some changes and am becoming aware that there are and may continue to be two components involved. There will be the aspect of working towards what I want, gaining the skills to do my true life’s work on a larger scale, creating the reality I desire. And there will be the aspect of needing to keep my nose to the grindstone in order to get there – and that part presents more of the challenge. I am the Queen of Clubs, a Cancerian Rat. I want to do things my way, and I am impatient (oh yes, emotional and nesting, nourishing and empathic and shrewd and highly mentally active too, but one can’t leave out headstrong and impatient). I haven’t figured out how to create my impatience into the magic of making things happen quite as effectively as I’d like, but I’ll either learn how to sit tight or I’ll get better at speedy manifestations. (Or I’ll get cranky, so hope for option A or B!)

I ran into a quote the other day that I thought would probably be a helpful one for me to remember. I believe it is St Francis (when isn’t it, really?) who said “Start by doing what is necessary. Then do what is possible. Suddenly, you’ll be doing the impossible.” Well. Maybe that will help.

Oh yeah- the invader spider:

We never saw it jump, but both Moth and I got the sneaking suspicion that this one could jump quite mightily if it wanted to. Any takers on spider ID?

I cleared out the webs after this, but in no time there were all kinds of new ones! It’s a strong year for spiders and wasps around here, but not so great for apples and plums. I suppose that one late frost did its damage, although I’m holding out that it means a mild winter. (Don’t get me wrong, I’d like a snow or two, just…not so cold between snows maybe?)

Buzz and Squeak

2011-08-01T09:59:00.006-04:00

This is what happens in the mornings here:

It's a pretty fabulous way to wake up....

Sorry about the terrible quality. They look crisp and clear on Moth's computer but here it's all kinds of fuzzy. So, you know, just squint or something :)

Happy Birthday Moth

2011-07-28T20:17:00.001-04:00

Dearest, dearest Moth,

When I met you I liked you immediately, although the reasons seem superficial now that I actually know you. I liked you in three parts: your worn Miami City Ballet shirt, your wild mane and leather, and your laugh. When you threw back your head with such mirth and abandon I knew right then that I wanted to make you laugh. I don't know that I had ever thought that about a person before. But there it was. That was seven (ish) years ago. Neither of us could have seen this coming at the time, but oh, I'm so glad this is where we've ended up. Each and every day with you is such a gift.

I'm so glad you were born! Happy Birthday, Beloved.

Hey, remember that time we got married?

Yeah, me too : )

Home!

2011-07-26T17:07:00.001-04:00

I can’t tell you how awesome it is to be home. I am liking it a whole heck of a lot. Walking through the kitchen! Looking out the windows! Oh, simple pleasures.

The sky after a storm, looking north. Moth and I both went out to take pictures yesterday. When I downloaded them onto my computer I found we had pretty much taken the same pictures.

And of course, the post- storm rainbow!

If only I could convince the mice to move out. I fear our elder statesmen of a snake (Mr. Snakey, to those in the know) has died. Probably of old age. He was really old. Our lack of a house snake (he liked the deck and the gutters nearby as well as the mulch pile) seems have an rather unfortunate in-house effect, other than just our missing him. Mice. More of them. Thieving, noisy, adorable mice. Anybody have a spare black snake? Or owl? Or fearless mouse-hunting cat who is also litter-trained who you want to lend me? Fortunately, I mostly think about things other than mice!

Like the weather, for example. I think about the weather a lot. And clouds.

I have been grooving on this spider web for days, and when I went out to take to take pictures, who showed by but the builder herself, ready for a photo shoot!

I love the shadow the spider makes on the railing. I have no clue what kind of spider it is, though.

So, the skull. It has a story. Many years ago this was brought back to me from Mexico. At the time I was having trouble with my eyes. Lots of vitreous retinal traction and apparently (this was retroactively diagnosed) ocular migraines. What that means is that I saw lights a lot. Lights arcing through the edge of my vision, spots of lights burning through into black, like melting film, halos….it was quite the show. My teacher brought me this skill from Mexico because she kept seeing them around with tea lights underneath, the eyes bright from the flames within.

It’s missing a piece from the front now, but the colors are slowly returning. You can see red now, a bit of blue, the teeth are turning white again. It’s been sitting outside for almost a year now. I found it last year in the wreckage of our burnt home. The area where it sat was completely destroyed – I found it under some ceiling several feet away, upright and grinning. Sitting there in the burnt shell of my house, I laughed and laughed at this charred clay face, just sitting there. It was probably a crazy-looking sight. I felt a little crazy, laughing when I should be crying.

We are beginning to go through what we salvaged, throwing away a lot (because it wasn’t really salvageable so much as it still existed, and so got kept) and cleaning off other pieces. Moth cleaned up this really amazing book I had started reading and not gotten to finish – Endangered Words – and I’m so ready to get back to it. I was reading it slowly in the hopes that I would retain the words I learned. I think I’m doing pretty good so far!

It’s an interesting combination of things that are fine, think I’ll keep just because, and things that have been repurposed, like this clay statue that is now home to a spider who makes neat webs.

The spider lives just inside the little chimney. Previous to this photo shoot, I had never seen her other a leg or two visible if you looked down into the hole.

It Would Take a Long Time

2011-07-25T15:06:00.008-04:00

Last Tuesday I was all but swimming in gratitude, but fatigue and the hustle of moving from one adventure to the next carried more weight than a blog post. Now, two weeks out I can look back and it's a bit dizzying, trying to think of how to distill it all.

I have felt greatly inspired by my community of late. Their actions, their hearts, their spirits... they shine brightly and I've felt honored to be among them. The secret, I have found, is gratitude. I will admit, I was somewhat intimidated coming into this group. It was more than just the longstanding friendships, it was deep heart connections and profound sharing, the likes of which I hadn't seen before. I was quiet, shy, and not sure how I fit in. But, like magic, once I started to experience gratitude for these people, for the community, suddenly, there I was, a part of it. (Could I use more commas in a sentence?)

More tricky even then that is allowing for their reflections of me. It's humbling but also delightful. Seeing myself through their eyes has been enlightening, empowering, amusing and motivating.

Pushing through and hard work: a recent endeavor did not go as smoothly as planned. In fact, it was just plain hard. We were frustrated; we had great visions and were having to work so very hard and do things over and over in an attempt to make it work. At the end of the day we got there, but not before frustrations rose high, tempers flared and I got attacked by yellow jackets. Twice. Even before we had things perfect though, people began filtering into our space, praising it, in awe of it. People are pretty easy, it turns out. And, I learned the value of sitting in the back of a cart bouncing along the road with my spirit brother (and astrological near-twin) just being cranky together. Having that affirmation of experience and also being able to see the humor in it. We were in the same space, and so, cranky with others, but feeling a great sense of camaraderie together. Plus, his cranky faces made me laugh in encouragement. We all recovered, we rocked it, and next year, we'll bring it bigger and better. Lessons were learned.

Subsequent to my time in the woods and my time with community, was time by the sea. I learned there, too.

I grew up going to a very non-commercial island, a very long beach with rows of rental houses, a pier and not much else. Maybe one ice cream place and a surf rental shop? The beach was never crowded. We stayed on the water, and everything revolved around the sea. We sat, we swam, we walked. We read on the porch to the sound of the waves, we watched storms over the sea, we took turns peering through binoculars at boats and dolphins. Family gathered, together yet with great space around us. The sound and smell of the ocean permeated all. It was sacred space, that time at the sea, that return to the mother womb where if you lay still long enough and listen carefully enough you can hear in your own pulse the echoing of the waves, that long distant memory of all life teeming from the ocean's pulse. It's deep. It's also simple: looking for shells, catching a good wave, pondering the tides and when to go to the sound. So. That's beach to me.

This beach trip? Not so much. Crowded, commercial, pretension, new money. Don't get me wrong: I delight in the time with family, the swims in the ocean with the kids, the different adventures that occur, the sailing, that it's usually Moth's birthday, the sun-screened scamble to get out the door, the familial intimacy of taking turns to shower and cook. And I won't turn down a trip to see the ocean, not me. But this year, I understood it differently, and I found a new appreciation for it. That teeming memory, maybe you can't hear it over the sounds of all the humans, but wait - isn't that just it - here we all are, flocking to the sea, running to it's edges, wading in, swimming, sailing out on it, just to be near it. Evolved and far past knowing, we still all run in to stand at the edge of the great vastness. And no, there is no alone, or wide open space here. But pulling my sun hat down so all I could see was the sand beneath me and falling into the meditation of form, I found I could indeed find myself there for stretches alone, with the sea. Of course, when I did falter I would look up to find a family staring at me, but then, I suppose a quick trip to the beach to practice marital arts before sailing isn't really their normal schedule.

Speaking of sailing, we had a grand adventure in the bay. The saving of a lost hat was a great reminder of how having a purpose and having a goal is one of the quickest ways to camaraderie. The story. Under the hot sun, Moth and I wore hats on the boat. Moth noted he might not wear his much what with the wind being what it was, but wanted to have it since it was so bright. So, of course, he wore it, and as we tacked about, his hat flew off into the ocean where it sat on the waves as we sailed away. Now, the folks sailing this boat do this all day long, all week long, all year long. For them, having something to do other than sail around the bay, look for dolphins, or pluck cannonball jellyfish out of the water for the kids to touch was apparently pretty exciting because a few minutes after we waved goodbye to the hat it was announced that we were going back for it. It actually took quite a few passes to retrieve the hat. One attempt resulting in the hat being dunked quite a bit, and it almost looked like the end...but no! There was much cheering and pointing and yelling and finally, the wind was right and the angle was just perfect to scoop the hat onto the end of the pole where it was delivered back to us, dripping wet, by the triumphant crew. The hat has been re-shaped and is much more valuable now than before it flew into the bay, as it has gained much experience in it's travels. More then that, going after the hat was fun, it was exciting. And the rest of the sail was all the more enjoyable and relaxing for the contrast.

To finish; I am so glad to be home. The cool mountain breeze, the wonderful feeling of the lake water, my garden thriving under the summer sun, the cool floor, my own bed, all my things in the bathroom - this oil, that salve, the oak tree beyond. The kitchen table, the windows. Home. It feels good. Now, back to work!

Oh Look, Wednesday.

2011-07-13T21:01:00.002-04:00

"You didn't update your blog this week"

"Well, it's Tuesday, right, so I can still do it tonight."

"Wednesday, it's Wednesday."

Oh look, Wednesday! When you go magical places, you lose your sense of time. Don't take my lack of a Tuesday Gratitude post to mean I was ungrateful yesterday .... ok, maybe I was a little tiny bit ungrateful just a few times but....hot, sweaty, tired, hurried, heavy lifting long hours does that to a girl. I was also happy and excited and hopeful and nostalgic and whimsical, and I think the pleasant wins. I did get mad at Moth for winning the dot game in the tent last night, and we can't beat each other at tic-tac-toe so instead Moth taught me a game he played in grade school that was most amusing. It involves shoving a pencil across paper towards your goals and resulted in a lot of flash-light lit searches for where the pencil had landed. Good times :)

This is a brief interlude in which I return home for about 15 hours for sleep, food, and a shower. You don't even want to know how filthy I am. It may take multiple lathers before I rinse clean...so I guess even if you don't want to know, now you do. Dirty and bug-bitten and, yes. I am SO glad I cut my hair off. I don't even want to think about the mess that would be awaiting me if I had my hair. Somehow, after a few days of being unwashed and in the woods, it looks great. I haven't missed it once, actually, which surprises me a bit.

It appears that we may not get many (any?) peaches this year. I've brought two unripe ones in the house, but if those on the tree ripen while we are gone we won't be getting any. How do I know this? Because the bears have been walking by our peach tree (right there by the porch and I STILL haven't seen a bear in our yard!) and taking bites out of them, checking for ripeness. At this rate, even if I am around for ripe-time, there won't be many without bear bites out of them!

Meanwhile, the garden grows and the flower blooms and the heat leaves me sticky and languid (and the swimming is oh-so-good). And I'm off. Back Monday. Possibly even dirtier, but likely cleaner because I'll have had more lake-time. And also, a year older in that one-day-means-a-year sort of way.

That G Word

2011-07-05T21:06:00.001-04:00

After all that, summer is here. It’s hot, it storms, it gets quite chilly. It’s a mountain, I get that. I drive through clouds, I look at clouds, I spend more time thinking about clouds than most of you put together. I am eating snow peas and greens and looking lustfully and slightly impatiently at the tiny green tomatoes on the vine and the squash that are *almost* big enough to eat and I’m wondering how so many weeds came up in the corn.

I have yet the find the right lighting to capture the riot of colors that is the flower garden.

It needs a lot of work, and I do some of it, but it’s not quite mine. It is and it isn’t. I live here, but I’ve never been sure for how long, exactly. I can see both the short and the long term realities, and neither looks more likely than the other. So, I’ve let it remain a bit wild. It’s lovely that way, thick and dense. There are gorgeous flowers that you have to wade through lilies up to your waist to see around the back of the lilac. 3/4 of the garden is invasive species. Not in a deadly way, just…life being vigorous.

I am greatly appreciative of that show of life. It’s harder to be grateful for when it’s an exotic with no natural predators and people aren’t using it *cough*kudzu*cough* but here, it’s lovely and beautiful

My “things to read this summer” pile has gotten measurably larger, although not literally yet. The next time I’m in town I need to go to the library to start making that happen. It’s been a long time since I was there, but I do enjoy the whole process, and it’s a good way to filter what I want to buy and what I simply want to have read.

Summer food. I’m so excited by and grateful for summer food. (I couldn’t eat it all, but boy it sure did look pretty on the plate.)

I forget about corn, sometimes. I like corn, I add it to things, it’s a tasty food and is great in many recipes. But, just corn on the cob, by itself, maybe a little butter and salt. *falls over* So. Good. Food is so good.

Moth and I have started doing the crosswords together. Often at breakfast and sometimes at other meals we will sit there, poring over clues and chatting about the words. I like to write the letters in (I find I misread his letters in isolation) and I’ve learned how better to go about doing joint crosswords. Hint: do not spend the whole time looking back the clue for words the other person knew because you’ll spend the whole time doing that. Going back to look might be wise, I’m hoping that it will just work by osmosis. It seems that plenty of crossword words are filler that you have to know about the use of. I like doing puzzles together, the sense of accomplishment, the teamwork, the new neural pathways!

I had lunch with my brother today. We shared many stories, a great many of which were about animals. The cleverness of octopi (seriously, so smart it’s a little scary) and that polar bears and grizzly bears can apparently produce viable, fertile offspring. In true cross-breeding fashion (at least with some other big animals with pointy bits on their paws) it’s bigger than it’s parents and definitely has the aggressive qualities of the polar bear. Bigger, more aggressive bears, great, just what humans wanted. (Kinda like jaguars, the most aggressive kitty option we’ve got have made their way north, ‘cause turns out, life outside the jungle is totally viable.) On the other hand, the ability for polar bears to breed into the ability to survive in template climates seems like exactly what they need right now. But. My brother. We share interests like the above and for hilarious internet videos. Which, makes for a good time together.

Ooh, Moth is home. Another gratitude point, and also the end of the post!

Hope for the Future

2011-06-29T15:27:00.002-04:00

Not that you doubted it, but in cases you were wondering, yes, there is hope for the future.

Check out this kid:

When folks of that age can tell you the names of the chemicals on conventional food, we are definitely moving away from the terrible fate our species accidentally veered towards some years back.

Drip

2011-06-28T15:28:00.001-04:00

Did you know that red-tinted lilies can melt? The yellow lilies simply fold back closed again, dropping off in a shriveled version of their bud state. Not so with the red and pinker lilies. Their process is a little different.

The liquid is thick, darkly colored, odorless, viscous and smooth to the touch.

Rather than closing as a bud, the petals migrate downwards and curl as the colors change.

Eventually, they drop, lying in swirls of petals underneath their siblings, who open at the size their bud was when picked. Some full size, some miniature. Frozen in development, but certain to flower.

Tuesday. Gratitude.

Family. I got to spend time with family over the weekend. I am continually being schooled in the importance of family. It’s good to have your ass handed to you by the universe from time to time, and this is one arena where I keep letting myself be surprised about how deep it goes.
Moth. What do I say here? I didn’t see him coming, but then suddenly, there he was. And the longer I knew him, the better I became. He reflected all the good he saw in me and didn’t buy into any of my bull and eventually I dropped the snark (ok, most of it) and became myself again. As it turns out, we pretty much share one brain between us, if the constant simultaneous ideas are any indication. The number of “hey, would you…” followed by “uh, yeah, did that already” fortunately became humorous once we caught up to our one-brainedness.
Flowers. It’s a simple thing, but having flowers and fresh greenery (mint looks great in a vase and it never hurts to cut the invasive little beastie back) can make so much difference in a space. I adore them. There’s a quote about God writing two books, the Bible and nature. Frankly, I think you’ll find that only one of those was penned directly by God, and it’s certainly not the one in ink. (Divinely inspired texts, even channeled texts, are subject to translation and interpretation. While extremely useful and valuable, there is no escaping the heavy-handed presence of man, there. You want to see what God wrote? Try the sky, the flowers, the trees. Stand in a storm, walk in a stream, swim in the ocean, open your eyes in the wind, the ever-changing always present power of nature.)
Swimming. Leaping into a lake is a joyous thing. Learning you can swim all the way across is an encouraging thing. I hope to do both frequently this summer.

Tuesday, and Grateful

2011-06-21T19:25:00.001-04:00

I was trying to use my fine university education and think of the German word for “grateful” but I kept thinking of the word gemütlich instead. Even as I told myself that surely it was something to do with “Dank” I kept thinking “gemütlich” and I’ve decided that rather than crossed wires, what we’re dealing with is actually the topic of my gratitude. Gemütlich: homey, cozy, comfy, unhurried, snug.

While true, I have more work to to today than I’ll get done and a friend coming over tomorrow, I’m good with the pace. I’m excited, she’s this fantastically beautiful soul mama who I’ve known peripherally for a while and tomorrow we’re going to collect herbs and make salves. I’ll get the work done, I’m sure it works out.

Honey oat bread. It’s impossible to rush bread, even a quick bread. This is our first go out, but I’m optimistic. Less than an hour to make and the smell of the loaf is intoxicating.

Even as I rush through things here, hustling laundry about and typing with furious speed, things are still pretty slow here, and I am really, really, digging that.

Potted basil which I need to replant so it can grow huge. “Take over the world,” I urge it, knowing I’ll never be able to grow enough basil to get a winter’s worth of pesto.

I borrowed my Dad’s walls of water and boy, do they make a difference. The plants in the water walls are huge and darkly green. Again, there is no such thing as enough tomatoes. Not even when your counters are covered do you have enough.

I like my home life. One of the things I struggle with in the have-a-career-and-make-good-money realm is that a lot of my goals have to do with my home. Can I be paid to make laundry soap? Will somebody out there fund this task of clean clothes?

Grated soap curls. I’m trying a powder version of the laundry soap I usually make into a liquid. While the jar takes up a lot less room than my five-gallon bucket, I’m not yet convinced. We’ll see.

Grating soap is a task I enjoy. I had a professor in college who told me to forget the real world. To take no time off and send myself directly to an Ivy League grad school and otherwise I was wasting my brain. I might be, but only a little. I’ve got plans for school, and I never stop learning. I even take classes here and there. And honestly, I think that same professor would understand my love of the home, of slow, of making soap. He of the wine in his coffee cup. Most college girls had a crush on him. I just wanted to dissect his brain. We spent many hours in his office, walking the campus, pouring over the German Romanticism I was studying for my degree. The texts were romantic beyond imagination, and that year of study smells like wistful roses, lush dirt, and summer nights. I never developed that common crush. My way was better. I had a year of his brain.

From the garden, looking northwest.

Vastness comes in many flavors. Awe, terror, confusion, understanding, opening.

From the garden, looking southeast. That blue!

I think it’s easy to see the vastness of large things, and that we forget just how complex the small things are.

Snow pea flower. My first crop of snow peas came in today. I’ve been eating the spare one or two off the vine for a few days, but today I had enough to make something with. Although, off the vine is the superior method of consumption, in my opinion.

I feel lucky, that I can peer down into the face of snow peas, crush the beetles eating my potatoes (ok, I’d be luckier if they weren’t eating them in the first place, but whatever), smell the green of tomato leaves (best smell I know), watch my popcorn coming up in mostly straight rows and know that tomorrow, they will be there. They’re slow, and yet somehow, they grow so quickly.

It’s the first day of summer, and for that, I am SO grateful.

Them thar’s my good fire-pokin’ sticks. (Yes. Thar. It’s summer. It’s the south. Let’s run with it) The one lying down is actually split like tongs. I prefer the upright stick for my fire poking needs.

Summer. ‘Nuff said.

An Ode to Breakfast

2011-06-14T07:58:00.003-04:00

Today's breakfast is everything good about the world. Or, at the very least, proof that the world is good.

I mean that, too. I get pretty excited about my food. When I head up the hill to the garden to fetch greens for dinner, I chatter at the plants in the garden and do a full gallop back down the hill with a fistful of dinner. Moth, in his infinite wisdom and patience, has never once complained about my goat cheese budget, and let me tell you, that is saying something. But we were talking about breakfast (and I somehow convinced myself to save the goat cheese for lunch, so some willpower does exist).

What has me so excited, really, is my first grown-in-the-soil-of-these-mountains tomatoes. Obviously it's too early here, unless you are a fabulous farmer at market whose solution to blight is to start his tomatoes so early that he can have them in the ground, covered over until the danger of frost passes of course, and producing heavily at the beginning of summer. When August/Sept rolls around, he's on to other crops and the blight isn't a concern. This means that the tomato I'm eating has been in mountain dirt for months, and it grew to maturity under unadulterated sunlight. When I sliced into the tomato and took my first bite, I'm pretty sure the thoughts that followed would make a Victorian blush. In polite society, anyway...repression does some interesting things to what people do behind closed doors. But, no closed doors with me and the tomato, oh no. Our love affair is for the world to see. So, there's that.

Next on my list of things to wax poetic about is sheep sorrel. Sort of a tiny dock plant (In the family with yellow dock, not wooden structures extending into bodies of water), sheep sorrel has a wonderful sour flavor. I often use it where I would otherwise use a splash of lemon juice. This particular batch of sheep sorrel we collected before tilling a new section of garden. While it certainly prolonged the process, it seemed odd to ask the land to be prolific and bountiful for us while tilling up edible plants, so we harvested first- wild strawberries and tons of sorrel. The strawberries are going nuts, and I eat as many as I have the patience to pick when I go out.

And finally, spring onions and fresh garlic. Juicy, crisp versions that stay firmer when cooked and have a more subtle flavor than their aged counterparts. Everything you need to rebuild your immune system after the tax of winter. Everything you need to wake your mouth up, too!

I'll just say thanks to the chickens for the eggs (glorious protein) and leave it at that.

Breakfast. Life is good.

Wild

2011-06-12T13:38:00.001-04:00

These lovelies grow wild -- well, I’m sure somebody planted them before we got here, but now they are interspersed with jewelweed and yellow dock, the bridge in flowers that arches between the soft peonies and rhododendrons of spring into the lilies of summer heat.

Perhaps it would be accurate to say that they grow wildly, petals everywhere, red and black dizzying the eye. Slowly, the petals drop away, until you have side-of-the-highway simplicity…

…well. Sometimes, anyway. Other times, they go out as wildly as they began.

The pods are popular in bouquets at the tailgate market these days. Oh, flowers at market, how I love the warm months. I’m looking forward to the sunflowers, myself. Their faces are joyful and amazing. That was the best part of working at the flower farm, pulling those sixteen foot plants down to look them in the flower faces. You’ve never seen such variety and glory (unless you too have spent hours in fields with sunflowers. If so, man, isn’t carrying those buckets of water uphill just the worst!) Anyway.

The ground now is littered with red petals, and the first lily has bloomed and faded. The lychnis is in full bloom too, beautiful magenta flowers that bring butterflies in with their sweet nectar. I was worried about the spelling of lychnis, so I looked it up and learned it’s common name, which is Rose Campion. I’m too lazy to go take a picture, so here is a picture from last year:

Gratitude

2011-06-07T16:07:00.002-04:00

Tuesday, once more. I’ve just returned from a conference. I attend annually now, Moth has for many years. So. The post conference fatigue is reliable. Taking classes, sitting still for hours on end, learning so much – it leaves a person a bit tired on the other end. It is vast and immense and yet always suddenly over, leaving you wondering how it could possibly already be done. These teachers, these people, I am so glad they are in the world. Their delight in the natural world, their faith in life, their devotion to well-being is inspiring. Soon I’ll pull out my notebook, review notes, start looking at how to incorporate what I’ve learned.

My mother came this year. Just jumped right in, she did, and it was lovely and amazing and inspiring.

I’m grateful that there is the wiser voice than the train-of-thought voice. Over the weekend, due to factors unknown, a rib decided to, well, move. Inwards, and rather uncomfortably so. Walking to class, what had been annoying pain became fairly crippling pain. It hurt to inhale. As I sat there, the train-of-thought train panicked and leapt the track. How, it wondered, could we possible stay alive if inhaling wasn’t on the menu and could it please have some very strong drugs right now? The irony of it was not lost on me, really. In classrooms all over the grounds were amazing healers – NDs, herbalists, MDs, acupuncturists, chiropractors, nurses and so many more, and there I was, hoping to materialize pharmaceuticals out of thin air to make my rib stop hurting. Fortunately, wiser voice won out and thanks to Moth, stretching, a dear friend and herbalist and a new-found acupuncturists, the rib is more or less where it should be. In-depth fixing to come.

Being there always challenges me to really think about what I'm doing with my life. What plans I have and where I am with them. This year was no different. As I move forward in an interview process for a job (you know, the kind with benefits that looks really great on a resume) I find myself filled with dread about what I'll have to give up to have this proper adult job and life. I could pay for school, with this job, so perhaps I'll find myself through to the other side of rebellion before too long. Or maybe not. We'll see.

Balance

2011-06-01T14:46:00.001-04:00

"Vertigo" by Anne Stevenson
Mind led body
to the edge of the precipice.
They stared in desire
at the naked abyss.
If you love me, said mind,
take that step into silence.
If you love me, said body,
turn and exist.

The left shift key isn’t working well. Suddenly, work happens at a slow, halting pace. Is it better to type entire articles without most of the proper capitals, or backspace as I go?

The grace of sleep is astounding, at times. That is to say that after Moth drove off to work this morning around 5:15 I tumbled back into bed. A great deal has been accomplished. More in this morning than in all of yesterday. I need more garden space. Tomatoes and peppers are making their new homes amongst beets and radishes. I made the snow peas move over to make room for squash. By the time the cucumbers arrive in the garden, I'll either have tilled more, or completely given over to chaos.

With so many possibilities swarming around, it’s hard to make sense of space and size and timing. I am a little more ok with chaos, in this space, than I think I would or could be otherwise. One day, I keep saying, one day, my garden will be a known entity before it’s even planted. Until then, the plants just keep rolling in, popping up, and I’ll just keep making room and trusting that it all works out. I do not yet have a crown for being the queen of vague, but it might happen one day, I think.

Zai (Cohort of Legend) told me that while I don’t quite engage in stream of consciousness writing, that I have a style that is certainly some sort of ‘creative consciousness’ which she further detailed as writing in deep and sweeping emotions rather than in factual grounded details. I rather liked the description. I think part of this process of if-this-then-that and what-if and then-what (and so much of this is drudgery, if not this job, then that, if this gig or that, if not this car, then which, and if that car then how) that I am getting better at suspending myself between the rooted nature of myself, which wants only to garden and look at plants and hang the laundry, make food and hear stories and the thinking side that wants to have charts and graphs and make things happen and be in charge of things and forge ahead and figure things out. Usually, if I get too far into the thinking, I drop into a little ball and roll to the side where I stay like a little roly-poly waiting for an unknown signal to uncurl.

The things that instinctively make sense to me are more the ‘we needed this to survive once upon a time’ and less the “how to make it in the world today.” I think many people experience this to different degrees. Certainly people talk wistfully for different times, feel they were born in the wrong age. That’s not really what I’m talking about for myself, but it’s probably somewhere under the same heading. It’s good to have balance though, because every time I wander down that road, I remember how much I love pictures (with cameras, mind you, drawing isn’t my strong suit) and music…oh how I love the music made possible with technology…and the interesting ways we connect now that we couldn’t before. And I remember to heed the confusion as a way of staying in touch with what’s real – and a reminder that if you play the game well, you can probably have at least a little of the best of both worlds.

Sun Drenched, Gratitude

2011-05-31T15:32:00.002-04:00

That walk, those flowers. Oh, yes. We followed the bear trails, wide clear winding trails that occasionally required ducking.

Even if not for the width of the path, the sheer number of huckleberries that we passed would have given it away. I often forgot about the pack when ducking early on, and had to learn to crouch very low. That worked plenty well for me, as the ground was much closer to much of what I had come to see…

I was grateful for the time off the trail, the experience of the forest as it is without us walking through it. The comfort that I could have taking this little path and that one, wondering up and down through the laurels and rhododendrons and huckleberries and trees, not worried about getting lost. Moth knew which way to go to get to different places, I was just happily trusting that when on the side of a mountain, up is up and down is down, and that should I hike to the top, I would know where I was upon exiting the woods. Hiking down would have pretty effective results, too.

Stands of lady are very exciting. To see so many, and with a seed pod? Well. This is me, cheering them on.

All cheering aside, however, there was one very special lady on the mountain. It could have been many things, the angle of the sun, the peak vibrancy of her pink, even just her surroundings, mossy rocks and cheerful wood betony. But it was more then that too. She was gorgeous, wild and beautiful, radiant. I nearly felt that she was the only one for me, so much as a human can have a wild thing.

Who knew I could love one flower more than all the rest? That I made such distinctions?

But. Today. Today is less shining filtered light and more blaring, glaring meltingly hot sun. It is getting better, but oh, how I melted today. I had a week of this energized vitamin and smoothie-filled glory of existence, a week with lots of time with Moth and lots of work accomplished and also, I have now. Oh, it is hot and I have achieved so little. (Shall I say it again, I do in my head) I have socialized, though, which is rare for my mountain hermitage life, which I suppose I really ought to count for something. Today, I have been up since four fifteen this morning, but also, half-asleep since four fifteen this morning. I have plants to plant and articles to write and much to clean, and even though I’m not doing any of it right this second, I’m grateful that it is there, that I have much to do. The fan is spinning alarmingly fast overhead and my row of radishes is about to turn into a row of tomatoes and the thoughts are jumbled because instead of doing, I’m sitting. It all churns in my head, the wooden oar of my consciousness clonking them back down until they pop back up, surfacing anew, spitting out salt water and demanding, once more, to be done.

Tuesday, Tired

2011-05-24T22:59:00.001-04:00

I am tired. I nearly forgot that it was Tuesday, and so, posting day. But, here we are. The theory is, the bear family lives in the woods between this field and the lake. It’s a theory, anyway. Same time, same place, I can’t actually guarantee same bear. The camera doesn’t always behave itself when you’re taking long range pictures. Are the leaves lovely? Oh yeah, and the bear!

It’s this time of year again – I hope to hike the ridge tomorrow and soak in their fleeting magic:

In other news, the tadpoles are coming along nicely. No legs yet. I've been communing with mama frog lately. She won’t come all the way out of the water when I’m already there, but pretty close, which is better than the immediate dive under the leaves which was the previous norm.

Sitting next to the frog is definitely one of my preferred activities.

I am so very happy when I look out the bathroom window (the most featured window on this blog, might I add) and see this now:

It’s crooked, I know, but again with the tired. Last thing I’m digging today is the three colors of rhododendron blooms off the porch…

Family

2011-05-20T10:41:00.002-04:00

The disclaimer: I didn't have my camera, so I'm ganking pics from the Internet. I'll give credit as best I can. (Images removed upon request)

The backstory: we had guests and had been doing the tour 'o mountain. Early in the visit I shared that we had only seen bears twice on the land and even then, only their rear ends as they scooted out of sight.

The moment: Moth was driving and telling the stories that our landlord told us about the bears- the bear who wanted his wife's apple pie and the bear who sat on his porch taste-testing all his apples and tossing the ones it didn't like into the yard. But still, he finished, we'd barely seen them. Just then, a big patch of black appears in the field and disappears into green. "Oh!" I said at the same time that our friend (he'll be Brother 1) said "um, is that a bear?"

We decided bear, but admitted it could have been a big black dog. Driving further there were several black shapes in the grass. One was much larger than the others. After brief confusion about black dogs AND black bears in the field, we drove into clear view between the trees and there in the field below us was a mama bear and her three cubs.

Mama looked like this:

Babies more like these....

image from bear-tracker.com. No source cited.

We drove to a good spot (mostly, no trees in the way) and Moth, Brother 1 and I all climbed on the roof of the Jeep to look at the bears. Brother 2 is a city boy and wasn't really interested in sight-seeing bears. Mostly, he wanted to learn how to avoid them. I wanted Moth to back all the way down the trail and get close to the bears so I could see them better. (Which, I agreed would be rude because mama bear would get nervous about the green metal beast, and probably shoo her cubs into the woods so I wouldn't get to look anyway.) They were large cubs, at least yearlings, maybe a bit older even. Black bear cubs stay with their mothers for two years, generally.

(Image belongs to National Geographic, yo and is here mostly for the cute-factor)

So. That's my story. I saw bears. I didn't get pictures. They were awesome, and I watched them for as long as I could. Bear love, oh yes. Carry on.

Cheddar Bunnies and Phone Calls

2011-05-16T22:47:00.004-04:00

Spring is tricky here, a tease. Hot, hot for days. Lately it has been cold, now, raining. Still. I like loading the furnace, know that it is optional, that I'm only doing it because I want a warm toasty house and have the luxury of having it. My cups of soil take turns on the warming mat while the buckets on the ledge outside flood in the rain. I had forgotten about the flooding, even though it happened last year too. We shall see. I fear my seeds will think it a nasty trick, to plant them in warm soil (originally typed "warm soul" there) then douse them in cold water for days. Perhaps they won't mind, however.

When I called my mother yesterday the first thing she said was "what's wrong with your phone?" As I didn't think anything was wrong with it, I inquired as to the specifics of the issue. It turned out she and my dad had been calling me and experiencing the same thing- the phone would ring a few times, then they would hear loud muffled music. I had no idea they'd even called. However, I'm pretty sure I know what happened, and it's the sort of story that, were I a teenager, would never be believed. You see, I was at the movies. We had brought in cheddar bunnies (whole wheat organic cheddar cracker snacks, found on sale while hungry, what?) in my purse. That's right. Life on the edge, people. We snuck our own snacks into the movie. I'm sure you're shocked and a little awed by our daring. Anyway, there Moth and I are, happily snacking on bunnies (hehe, snacking on bunnies) and watching a movie. Apparently, our hands dipping into and out of my purse for handfuls of snacks also managed to answer my phone when it rang, the keypad being unlocked from my belated silencing of the ringer. See? You'd never buy that from a teenager, and yet- probably you do from me. And it's true!

I am particularly grateful for my fabulous friend back from the west coast who came to visit on the mountain. I got married in her blue shoes, and we had so much fun looking at wedding pictures- she hadn't known until a few days ago that her shoes had made the appearance, and was quite charmed by that fact. Chatting on the porch for hours, the familiarity of friends who, after dinner, head upstairs to take a nap before rejoining me to hang out into the wee hours of the night, laughing and toasting to the joy and hilarity of it all. To welcome her back to the south I made sure to feed her biscuits and collards.

Tuesday

2011-05-10T20:55:00.004-04:00

Somewhere, there are pictures. But, at the end of today, I'm not inclined to go looking for them. Not that it was a stressful day, really. I woke up in my parent's house and got to spend the morning with them before heading back up here. I had a wonderful visit there- it's such a magical place, home is, and I'm really glad we don't have a land-line here because then I'd have to rename "home" in my cell phone and I don't know what I'd call it! Anyway, from there I drove back up into the mountains (I know which one I live on when I drive by on the highway now and I'm very proud of this accomplishment) and met Moth at the grocery store.

It's hot here, suddenly. By the time we were home I was hot and starving and we ate and fell asleep and ate again, and laid on the couch until dark. There is a simplicity in simply being there next to Moth, looking at his sleeping face, laughing as he imitates flames coming out of mouth after a particularly spicy bite. It's sweet. I'm gonna get back to it. But, here first, because I promised.

A funny story, before I go. I was in the drugstore with my brother and my mom (Mother's day visits and all that). We were standing by the pharmacy counter and I noticed a box on the shelf. It was half blue, half pink and read "Boy or Girl? Gender Test." I grabbed it and held it up to my brother when he turned around. He stared, puzzled, for a humorously long time before finally blurting out "OH! For babies!" Then we totally lost it in the middle of the store, hopefully reminding my mother of shopping with us back in the day. It was loud, uncontrolled, and completely awesome. I'm not sure I've completely recovered from it even now, as recalling the incident and the following hilarious conversation that ensued has me giggling.

Laundry

2011-05-04T12:27:00.004-04:00

My fingers are colder than they have been in weeks. Hanging laundry when it is barely fifty degrees may seem odd, and perhaps it is. There have been much warmer days, but here it is, today, and I am doing laundry and it is spring. So, outside they went. The clothesline has been transferred from the basement, which, dry from wood heat all winter now hums with the constant refrain of the dehumidifier. It is windy, at least, and to me our clothes look like prayer flags off the deck, colored squares catching in the breeze, whispering our prayers to the wind. I like hanging laundry. It is peaceful, it feels known and old and in my hands reached up to the line I see generations of women reaching with me, feeling the wind on our faces, our fingers damp but sure around each clothespin.

It is a fine line, walking forward into this new age. A fine line between losing our connections to the past, to the sacred and of accepting gracefully the advantages we are now offered. I could no more do task the way my great grandmothers did them and get along comfortably in the world than I could eschew my past entirely and live surrounded by metal and concrete with only pigeons for wild company. Balance. My clothes drying on the line might be nothing more than that to some, and maybe that's where the magic lies. In being able to see both history and newness, sacred and mundane. And, perhaps even a hint of the sublime ineptitude of mankind, drying clothes in a cold wind.

Tuesday

2011-05-03T18:05:00.001-04:00

I have been waiting and waiting for the oak tree outside the bathroom window to bring out its leaves. I had forgotten entirely the intermediary step between buds and leaves, which is, of course, giant pollen strands! Silly me. This is clearly an important stage.

As late as spring has felt here, I am reminded constantly by the ridge above us and across the way that were we higher, it would be even later. It refused to render well on our camera, but it’s a bit like this. Green in the foreground, brown skeleton trees in the distance.

Most things in the garden are coming up nicely. There are a few beds, however, that I think are just tiny little weed sprouts and I don’t know what the proper sprouts are meant to look like. That’s ok, because last year I was fooled into thinking wild grape babies were actually squash babies. At least at this stage they are but tiny two-leaved spots ‘o green. We’ll know soon enough. Apparently I spilled kale seeds in two spots, as about eleven little plants have all grown in half an inch of soil. Poor sap of a gardener that I am, I haven’t thinned them yet.

Moth has done a very brave thing this spring, a thing I am not nearly so brave to do. A visiting friend was struck by the urge to jump into the lake (I’ll have that urge in a few months, but having touched a toe in last week, I’m nowhere near ready, especially seeing the ratio of trees with buds to trees with leaves) and Moth jumped too. I like how he appears to be seated in the air above the water but slowly tipping sideways, like his feet wouldn’t go down any further so he tumbled sideways.

I stood on the shore and cheered. That, and passed out towels to the very cold-looking but totally exhilarated pair.

An intense storm is moving in now. While sitting here, the sky went from blue to gray and then a low front flew in, fast and furious, churning leaves upside down, blowing dirt off the road and sending smaller clouds whipping between the ridges. So, of course, we went outside. It quickly went from this….

To this….

And now there is a wall of gray cloud that blocks our view of the opposite ridge at all. Thunder, thunder, time to turn the computers off.

This Season

2011-04-26T19:35:00.002-04:00

I often talk about that one day, the one day where come the first warmer days of winter, I will know where I am planting my garden. I’ve had that (and a good amount of land) once. The past few years, not so much. This year, again with the up in the air. But, for this season, this spring on the mountain, I have planted my garden. It feels good. It is a relief.

Although a bit weedy, the ground was rich and ready to be worked, soil turning over darker brown and teeming with worms.

I will admit that I completely hijacked Easter afternoon. Having determined that this season, yes, here, the day before, and Easter being so very, very warm, Moth’s diversion into something (I forget what) before being ready to head out for our walk gave me just enough time to get all wide-eyed over seeds. There was basically no stopping after that.

Gardeners, please feel free to swoon over my dark, dark soil. I do, on a regular basis.

The wildcrafting continues. I have been making lovely violet leaf infusion, a cooling and soothing brew and next in the work is a violet syrup. We have been eating a lot of violets in salad, and I do wish I had more free days for collecting these little beauties.

That, my friends, is 1/4lb of violets.

I chatted up a few neighbors enjoying the lake while I picked these. The next day the woman told me excitedly about how she’d had a little girl over visiting earlier in the day and that they had picked and eaten violets for lunch.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Moth and I if there weren’t new things percolating in our brain, new opportunities. New options, new decisions to make. It seems that rebirth this year is brighter, greener than in the past. I feel more aware of the way things spun into darkness and reformed into the light.

So. Even as I look ahead as if to make plans for much further out, I temper this, and my days, by looking at the dark soil where I’ve planted my seeds and I carry on. One season at a time. For this season, that should be enough.

So often, the little things that are really big things only boil down in those times of intensity- the moments of “please, let me just have this one thing, that’s all I need, just this one thing” even when you know you don’t really mean it quite like that, so it’s nice when you realize that there are many small things that are really big things to desire in every moment – and you don’t need to ask for one to the exclusion of the other. When that one thing you ask for is surrounded by a litany of gratitude for all that preceded and surrounded it, there are many of those one things.

Morels!

2011-04-22T12:47:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was a fine day indeed. It started off with this, as per usual these days: Dandelions, we find, wait for the sun to come out to fully open their flowers. Note their bright cheeriness and the fact that the backs of their petals sometimes comes striped in purple.

And then quickly transformed into a much, much more exhilarating day after the great Morel Mushroom Hunt. It began as a casual comment as I threw out that it would be good to check under that one tree to see if there were any. When that tree yielded six, the game was on. Before we knew it, we were leaping through fields, scampering under trees, wide-eyed at the thrill and the basket was soon overflowing. We gave thanks, we thumped (knocking spores out of the mushroom to ensure successful reproduction and future morels), we marveled at how once you have your eyes on, there they are, everywhere! We found many, many morels, we dug a few ramps, and even shared our loot with some friendly neighbors who we had run into on our walk, stopping for a glass of wine and talking bears-deer-mushrooms and weather (oh, mountain living, I love you).

Once home, it was safety inspection time. False morels and real morels are fortunately quite easy to tell apart and even if the outside fools you, the inside will make it crystal clear one way or the other

Here, Moth is ensuring that each morel has been cut in half for inspection.

A true morel is completely hollow inside, stem to tip and the whole of the mushroom head is attached to the stem. Also, they look more like honeycomb than brains. They smell alive and earthy.

One of the rules of morels (other than thumping) is that you have to cook them in real butter - meaning, no margarine allowed near these precious ones! And oh, they are delicious. We’ll eat most of them fresh and we will dry some for ourselves and for special friends. And, we’ll keep heading out to look for them all the next week in hopes of more.

There are no pictures of prepared morels because those disappear far too quickly to photograph. You do have to cook them, by the way. Even though we were sure, I still made us eat only a small bit at first and wait. The only thing that did was make us all the more ravenous for more!

Spring

2011-04-19T20:51:00.001-04:00

I know I keep saying this, but friends, it is spring.

I walked barefoot outside today, scooping up dandelion flowers and marveled at the sensations. After months of never-bare feet, the feeling of the ground underfoot was marvelous and new again. The soft cushion of pine needles in the grass, the slickness of the first plantain leaves, the gentle crush of grass underfoot. Fuzzy mullein, too big to step on but perfect for petting and sweet tiny violets. Oh yes, spring.

Today was a good day in the kitchen. Remember those dandelions? I wasn’t kidding.

All parts! Oh yes. Our livers will be oh so happy after today. Perhaps they feel happier already. How can this not make you smile? I dare you you not to smile at this sight:

See? Too yellow not to feel happy. I created dandelion fritters, a most cheery delight:

This, with a stirfry of dandelion roots, leaves, garlic, onion, mushroom with a little sesame oil and tamari…oh yes.

But, as excited as I was about this food, even MORE exciting is that Moth has finished up month-long gig and so is back at the table with me! Here, he is very bravely making his food super-spicy…

And now I must go play in the kitchen once more. Moth has started dinner (oh, what a thing! Another person making dinner!) and so I ought to go pick up where his ADD has left off :)

Happy Tuesday, friends.

RAMPS!

2011-04-18T09:52:00.003-04:00

I have one thing to say today, and that is: Ramps!

I have been to the super-secret spot and carefully, sustainably, ethically, harvested the most delicious food known to onion-kind. Imagine a strong onion crossed with garlic that somehow tasted sweet as well as pungent. Allium tricoccum, how I love thee.

I like that entire festivals exist, dedicated to this very food, although I worry about such mass quantities being harvested. These are secret plants, hidden away, endangered in many areas and as people continue to develop land...well, it doesn't look good. Old-timers will have spots that they never tell a soul about. The very fact that I'm telling you I even WENT ramp digging is slightly verboten. But. Tell you I have. But not where. There will not even be pictures of the precious. (Be sure to read "precious" in a Gollum voice).

I have pre-prepped everything, from bulb to stem to leaves and they are ready to eat. (And by ready, I mean I break those jars out for just about everything I make, currently.) I imagine I'll smell a bit like them for the next few weeks. Maple syrup and ramps...I wonder what that combination will be like.

Look, Tuesday

2011-04-12T15:57:00.002-04:00

In my absence, it became spring here. While I was busy down in the flatter land getting a sunburn, transplanting blueberry bushes, and readying earth for tomatoes, the mountain was embracing the new season.

The tulips I planted in fall with my mother and grandmother were just beginning to peek red out when I left. I returned on a sunny day to find their petals splayed wide open at odd angles, a luxurious splash of color. Here under the rainclouds, they look a bit more proper.

My father in law’s dinner blessing ends with a line like “joy and life renewed” which would probably be a lovely sentiment to carry into spring, if not for the fact that now, upon hearing the word “renewed” I hear my nephew’s squawk of “you said nude!" Oh well. I’m sure I’ll get that word back some day. Besides, nude is definitely not the right word for this season of fresh adornments…

I am very fond of animals, especially when they live nearby and I get to look at them. While the birds are particularly good to watch here and their return is most welcome, you can’t beat critter-watching when their home is contained to an area they can’t escape. (Why hello, little tadpoles!)

So, I promised to talk about gratitude on Tuesdays. I really quickly grew averse to the word. So, here’s the deal- I’ll talk about things I’m grateful for on Tuesdays, and maintain the meaning of the word by not overusing it.

I’m easily excited by small things. This quality is one for which I am infinitely grateful. It’s easy to look at the big picture and tumble to the ground under the weight of it. The tiny delights bolster you more than you’ll ever know. That, and perspective helps.

These are not weeds, they are beautiful spring flowers that are tasty to eat and extraordinarily good for your liver. Dandelion flowers are full of vitamins (A, C, K and calcium) while their leaves and roots will cleanse the liver. Spring cleaning isn’t just for houses! (Plus, eating dandelions is WAY easier than scrubbing baseboards. Just sayin’)

The Story

2011-04-05T10:43:00.001-04:00

As I lay in bed last night watching the lightening and listening to thunder, Moth sleeping soundly, curved perfectly around me, I found it easy to see how the stories get told. The bright lights in the sky, and the thunder, the wind. It was as if I could hear the fronts colliding overhead, pushing and shoving, as if they met with brass plates, grinding and shooting sparks. I told the story of cold and warm. It was warm yesterday, very warm. I imagined that the cold had second thoughts about leaving, rushing back down only to be met by the warmth, pushing it’s way up against the cold. How they fought it out overhead. According to the forecast, after the cold storminess of today, the warmth will be back. You do not win, cold, even if I’m in my house waiting for temps to get above freezing, both so I don’t have to worry about icy roads and so that nice men with chainsaws will come get the trees out of the road and I won’t have to play slalom driving between the branches down the switchbacks.

Yesterday:

Today:

The warm and sunny…

The very place I stood to take the above picture:

So. That’s my story. This season, warm wins. (It’s a pretty predictable cycle, really. I’m grateful for that.)

Nettle Eatin’ Made Easy

2011-04-03T15:42:00.008-04:00

If you don’t look at this and think “Must EAT, NOM!” then I’m here to help:

Ok, so I get how you might not be up for running out and grabbing a handful to eat. After all, these are *stinging* nettles. Check out the stinging capacity (the sting comes from formic acid not from teeny stabs):

(Side note here to say that that urtication is highly effective in treating such conditions as arthritis. When gently flogged against skin and joints the irritation stimulates circulation, lymphatic flow, cellular metabolism, nerve function and so on. There is also a serotonin and histamine response. Basically: first it stings, then you feel better.) The good news is that as with other greens who have this special stinging property (such as mature radish greens) the minute you break the cell walls either by heating or through mastication, (food processor) no more sting!

So. To get to the part where you eat them and the amazing nutrients they contain. This delicious nettle-potato soup is a great way to eat your greens and can disguise them such that even the most skeptical eater will be able to enjoy them.

Step one: Make potato soup. Generally, I sauté an onion in oil or butter with salt, black pepper and white pepper for five to ten minutes. Add chopped potato and sauté for three to five more minutes. Add enough vegetable stock to cover the vegetables and boil until potatoes are soft and beginning to disintegrate.

Step two: if your hands are pain free and don’t need the help of the nettles then grab your tongs or don a pair of gloves and toss the nettles into the soup.

Stir the nettles into the soup

They will very quickly wilt down:

Within a few minutes the greens should be completely wilted and dark green.

Step Three: Let the soup cool for a few minutes before blending (batches will be necessary unless using an immersion blender) and returning to the pot. If you’re in a hurry, which I am often am, the trick is to use very small batches and put a towel over the lid of the blender, holding the top on firmly to prevent a hot-soup explosion.

Step Four: Add a little richness to your soup. Milk, cream, almond/oat/rice milk all work well. Sprinkling in a little goat chevre is heavenly.

Stir well and then move on to….

Step five: Eat and enjoy. My personal opinion is that potato soup is delicious on it’s own and even more delicious when the carrier of toppings (My favorite foods are condiments, your mileage may vary). Cheese, hot sauce, nutritional yeast, pesto, more freshly ground pepper…they all work well.

Here is a bowl of soup I have rendered into Rasta soup. The name is based solely on color, obviously, but if you do get high from this soup, you probably need to eat it more often.

Jah Bless!

Victory Lap

2011-04-02T22:39:00.002-04:00

Round two of Honey vs taxes and this time, I won.

So. Victory lap. (Around the kitchen) Fresh nettles, chickweed vinegar from 2009 (and documented here I'm sure as it was a ridiculously massive harvest), sundried tomatoes from this past summer, garlic from a friend's farm.

So, two things to celebrate really. One is that I have one less hungry bill on the table and the is actually going to give my money back instead of taking more away and two is that the planet, lovely green breathing being that she is, continues to feed and nourish us. The first nettles of spring (amazing!) and oh, I can't even wait for ramps to get here. Patience, I know, but that won't stop me from checking my secret ramp spot every week or two because I will not be missing out on the strongest, most delicious goodness and restorative tonic that springtime has to offer.

So. I win. Even if I did just eat dinner at 10pm because I fell into tax land.

Tomorrow will be the first day in quite a few that I won't wake up to snow that quickly gets blazed away by the brightness of the returning sun. It is supposed to be warm, and oh, I'm ready!

BraveMaus

2011-03-30T11:36:00.004-04:00

This morning I was having coffee and chatting on the phone with Moth. He’s been away a lot working, so I really only get to see him every other evening for sleeping and then breakfast. So, phone call. We were discussing potential plans for the future. (Dear childhood, it seems I took you for granted. My bad.) The phone call was making its way to an end when suddenly whatever Moth was saying got interrupted by a lot of squeaking on my end. The reason for the squeaking was simple: the appearance of BraveMaus, a brave adorable little mousy-type who has taken to walking across the kitchen in broad daylight while humans are present. Brave or stupid, I don’t know which. Probably taking orders from the bejeweled flying mouse queen in the walls. Anywho. The phone call ended after my chase with BraveMaus concluded with us running towards each other, me with an upside down vase and poor little Bravemouse all hunched up running on tiny pink stilts. After an around-the-trashcan-under the gardening supplies chase, things ended well for me, but a bit frighteningly for cute little maus friend:

SO cute. I love teeny tiny little critters, especially ones that can make their entire body into a little ball of fur. The ears are so expressive. The agility is highly impressive, but impossible to photograph. The good news for BraveMaus is that I plan on going down the mountain today, so the stay in the bottom of the vase shouldn’t last too much longer. If I am three feet away or more, Bravemaus throws it’s little body in the air and explores its captive space, but when I’m near it just huddles up and sits still. Awww, maus!

So, I did realize about halfway through this post that in English the word is “mouse” but...yeah, whatever. Now you can all spell it in German. The plural, in case you were wondering is "die Mäuse." (Thats the nominative feminine and plural article die, pronounced "dee", by the by, not a mousy death sentence.) Lesson complete.

Grateful in Blue

2011-03-29T20:54:00.001-04:00

Living up high means that often, I’m not looking up at clouds, I’m just inside them. Some days, when the cloud cover doesn’t extend to far above, we have what I think of as the bright-white days, where the sun shines down into the clouds (like high beams into fog, for example) and although it’s just white mist outside the windows, it is bright inside. It had been one of those days yesterday, but as the sun went down, it all went blue, brilliant blue.

Blue that got very, very bright, just before it got dark….and that photographed spectacularly from a dark room. Whenever we have guests they freak out about the dark here. I forget that windows that are just *black* when it’s cloudy out and there isn’t star/moonlight and it’s darker that most people ever experience living in cities. I guess you adjust quickly here.

It was a brief period of time, and it was magical. Some days, just those few moments are enough to make you stop.

Also, I am immensely grateful for Zai. For many reasons, obviously. Today, for taking a walk with me, for our mutual ability to voice the crazy without worrying about sounding crazy and of course, for the delicious curry and brownie, a cure for just about anything unto themselves! Fortified by brownie, I can now tackle my next set of articles. 40 per month on the same topic- that’s the kind of insanity producing task that will require more than brownies to bring me back from. (I mean- yay, articles! I am really grateful to have them to write.)

Notes

2011-03-25T18:30:00.001-04:00

I’ve got a new way to edit/proofread myself that is proving highly effective. (Backstory: I produce words for money. When things were going well, I enjoyed the luxury of editors. Thanks to the economy, I edit myself as often as possible.) So. This new technique is an old standard with a twist. I read out loud, sure, we’ve all done that, but there’s the twist: I read out loud with an accent. You see, if I just read something I’ve written I’ll catch a few things, but mostly my mind just uses it’s overwrite feature to read back what I thought I wrote in the first place. If I read with, say, a British, Aussie, or Indian accent, however, the dissonance between how the words sound and how my brain “hears” them when I see them on the page is great enough that I catch pretty much everything. I’m getting better about sticking with just one accent per reading. At first there I sounded like I was raised by an upper class kangaroo in a rough neighborhood in London. Now, It’s mostly one or the other.

I don’t think they are eating the tadpoles, although I can’t really be sure since I don’t monitor around the clock, but these two are in the vicinity of them quite frequently. I like to think they are getting an early start at spring dating by taking romantic picnics on the waterfront….

Sorry ‘bout the poor picture quality- I can capture then individually just fine, but so far, no good couples photos.

Guess what we’re having for dessert! Hint, it’s not tadpoles, but it some of it came from the very tree the cardinals are sitting in…)

Things that made me smile

2011-03-24T12:43:00.001-04:00

That these flowers sprung open while I was at work, and that last night's storms blew some over so I can cut them for indoors without a single second thought.

Being able to see the moon in the morning. (Another photo from the bathroom window. Not featured: window crank that looks like Buddha)

Getting biscuits made with whole wheat flour to fluff up properly.

Gratitude and Grace

2011-03-22T12:19:00.001-04:00

It is spring. While it is slower to burst forth up here, I get my big doses of spring down the mountain and enjoy the slow unveiling all around me up high. I've always put a lot of faith in the promise of simple things- that the sun will always come up no matter how long the night may seem, that the earth will always green again. I must admit, the past week of warm days have been the turning point. Previous to Friday, I had begun to doubt the very existence of spring. Most likely that was the fever talking, having been felled by some bug that left me feverish and snot-filled for several days, capable mostly of lying around, making honking noises like an errant goose and asking for refills of electrolyte water. But. A few days of warm weather and walks outdoors have been an excellent cure. And, I think that moment of doubt just before it happens is actually fairly normal. Come March I think I’ll never be warm again and then- spring. Driving, just when I am nearly convinced that I *must* have missed my turn, there it is up ahead. Those moments where my faith waivers can be good, I think. They are times to power through, to keep moving forward just because and find yourself rewarded in the end.

They can also be dark moments, where the understood and the unknown can be flipped, and if you’re looking at a big picture, you might miss the little things. Like how the frog eggs in the broken plastic pond out back have hatched into teeming squirmy tadpoles.

Or the sweet purple flowers under the greening vines…

Because really, while the big things do matter, the composite makeup of their nature, if you look closely, is likely to be many, many small things. And sometimes, you have to cheat a little. It wasn’t warm enough to be outdoors in short sleeves because of the breeze…but if you take a mug of hot coffee with you, you can spend a lot more time exploring the new growth without needing a jacket.

And too, this stage is important. In a few months, the garden will be huge with flowers- the growth knee to waist high, bright colors everywhere, plants invading each other’s space and flowers creating more, more, more color and scent. And you’’ll never know about the sweet smalls of springtime unless you took the time to look now….

Life teeming from still, rank waters, flowers emerging and birds singing- these are worth giving thanks for.

Cloud Birth

2011-03-21T09:11:00.002-04:00

Up early this morning, the light slowly making its way through the dense cloud surrounding the house, I watched as the sun finally made it's way high enough to burn through, trees glistening and water vapor rushing upwards. Eventually it was completely clear- I could see trees on the far ridge clearly, their branches budding, but still stark lace against the sky.

Then, cloud birth. All spring and summer here I had spent my mornings watching the clouds lift out of the valleys in the distant mountains. I thought about these sun powered clouds, tucking down into valleys to sleep at night and lifting off again in the morning. This time, however, I was watching clouds forming right before me. From the crispness of the morning, water vapor rose from the ground, rushed up in plumes from the lake, caught on the wind and curled around the house, moving into clear spaces. Clouds came together on the ground, drifting together and spiraling upwards into the sky. Soft sweet wisps that caught the wind and were swept off. And then, once again, it was clear, the birds were singing and it was the first day of spring.

---

In other news- biscuits. We are SO close, friends. Close, that is, to having a healthy version that does not offend my southern sensibilities. I believe that my next batch will be THE biscuit recipe, and I am very excited about that. Moth is excited too- but mostly because it means more biscuits for him to eat. He's been pretty excited about all the in-between recipes as well- and really, who is going to complain about biscuits?

Different Title

2011-03-15T08:00:00.002-04:00

Is it fickle to have tired of a thematic title so early on? I’ll keep to the theme though- I’m steady when it counts.

It was snowing- several inches had fallen and I was smirking slightly with the accuracy of the old wives tale as it was exactly 10 days after the thunderstorm. I was also taking pictures like a mad woman, trying to capture the beauty of a farm blanketed in snow. The way the angles of the barn met, the old wheel with it’s rustic charm, and of course, the cardinals and finches – yellow and purple – whose underbellies were only just beginning to blush with color and were very excitedly relaying back and forth from bush to feeder. I did also turn the camera to the faces of all those sitting there with their coffee and visiting. Unfortunately, the camera froze, and I lost all of those.

(Fortunately, the other memory card was just fine)

Lately I’ve been thinking about cameras more. Looking at different types, I’m clear that a camera is definitely on my “want” list, somewhere near but probably under an immersion blender. If I had my own, Moth and I could geek out simultaneously over taking photos- what fun! I do have my father’s camera, which is a fantastic tool, but even as much as I love film, I must admit, the digital format is really quite handy. And, I’m big into the solidity of the physical- the tools that create our reality - and it took me a long time to really groove on the digital. I think what sold me was- I don’t have a darkroom and as long as I’ve got electricity, I’ve got what I need to interact with digital images, so it is actually the more available technology. (That doesn’t mean you win technology, but I’ll cede you digital photography!)

Something that I like about all of these images is that they are all of the solid, familiar, graspable and concrete old, but each has a touch of the new. The way life on the farm continues on as it always has, affected by the available world, but still deeply in touch with the basics. I have a deep love for our friends on the farm, and their life delights me, and would even if it didn’t speak so deeply to my own desires for life because for them, it is sweet and it is rich, and it is what they want.

Life has taught me plenty in my years here, and what I learn from our friends is immeasurable. So, today, I am grateful for the elders who walk among us. Who tell us what we already know, somehow, for it’s resonance makes clear that we are remembering more than we’re learning. For those who tell you honestly of their troubles, of the difficulties, and hold your gaze when you admit to your own.

And, I am grateful for those who are elders before their time. Even if none of us know exactly where we’re going and how we’re going to get there, we’re all steering as best we know how.

Tuesday Gratitude

2011-03-08T11:49:00.002-05:00

Once upon a time I worked at a newspaper, despite the fact that a brief foray into journalism during the school age years for some sort of kiddie-internship led me to think that I wanted nothing to do with it. Sadly, I wasn't quite as clear sighted at the time and thought that it was writing that I didn't like, but really, it was journalism. Still, this was a lighthearted gig, I was friends with the editor's wife, and it was laid-back and pretty fun, in that I wrote snarky social commentary and also the community business highlights. It was good balance, writing-wise, and the community business highlights was nothing more than loyal folks who had supported the paper getting a half-page write-up on how they were awesome, which meant mostly that people sat me down (over pie or champagne usually) and told me their stories. I would then report on my most fabulous encounters and collect my check.

So, anyway. All of this is just the lead-in for the fact that I am about to pounce-interview Moth for the Tuesday Gratitude bullet points. I predict soap boxing and general silliness to result. And so, without further ado, here are five things that Moth is grateful for:

Me: (Charming as this answer is, I feel a bit like I'm cheating a bit. But then, I listed him, so it's only fair game. Besides, he'd be pretty angry if I disputed the point...and rightfully so. I am quite sure, after all, that he likes me :) You know, what with the marrying and all. Ok, letting him talk now) Moth says: That's a perfect example of why I'm grateful for you- for all the humor- the funny and silly things that keep me laughing, and that's only the start. You could never contain all the reasons within a bullet point.

The promise of spring: While he loves the cold and snowy and gray of winter, having the burgeoning buds, the hints of warmth showing through bring great joy, a sense of life renewed. (Commentary time: I believe this is the case both for the mental health of restored life and vibrancy in one's environment and also because Moth loves to putter outside. He disappears for hours and you'll find him far down a hillside collecting sticks, or in the yard pulling all the thistles out of the grass...he's not a focused gardener, but his random is very zen.)

All the emerging hemp technologies: (Fetches soap box, sets it out) "As a longtime proponent of hemp and someone who is aware that hemp was the cornerstone of this country's financial strength from its inception through the early 1900s, I believe strongly in the tenets of Henry Ford that our industry should be built out of our agriculture as opposed to what can be stolen from the planet so as to establish a balance between modern lifestyle and sustainability on the planet. The long overdue refocusing upon the seemingly infinite number of products we can make sustainably from this plant is very heartening. Whether it is building cars as Mercedes Benz and many other manufacturers are now doing out of various hemp composites, making textiles, papers, foods, cosmetics or homes, hemp products seem to excel above and beyond most competitor products providing value and effectiveness for us with a dramatically diminished impact for the planet. Thank goodness it's back."

Health: We both have our health, and that is always something to be thankful for. "Nuff said.

$3 movies: "Ok, I love the escapism and entertainment of movies. Mind you, I think they are a horribly destructive industry with ludicrous pay scales and so I am generally loathe to pay full price admission for movies. But, let's face it, they are fun! Well, sometimes. And so, being able to enjoy a movie at dramatically lower price so as to not overly encourage their waste both feeds my ethical soapbox and provides me with a couple hours of pleasure. Besides, I often get to snuggle with my Honey in the movies, and I like that!" (Is this the same logic that says if I buy leather second hand it's somehow karma-free? I think it might be. You know what I like about $3 movies? They come with pizza. And locally brewed beer. And it's a fun date, the eating pizza and watching a movie. This one works for everybody.)

Lady and Gentle Bugs

2011-03-07T09:17:00.006-05:00

The weatherman has been wrong lately. At least, wrong for here. Might be right a few thousand feet lower. High of 50 with rain? No! High of 30 with temps rapidly dropping after noon with snow and ice! (Yesterday) Today, however, it is already 20 degrees warmer than said forecast thinks it is. So, I'll take it.

Even if the hunks of snow falling off trees and the dripping at the eves didn't alert me to the warmth, I would know it because the lady bugs are very active today. They have stages. When chilly, they huddle together in the corner of the windows. At 60-65 a few amble about, checking out the plants below but mostly crawling on the window and above. At 70 they leap, taking off and landing all about, swarm-crawling the window. I don't even want to think about the graveyard below the window on the carpet behind the table. As many as we have, I'm sure they've built up a new collection since last I vacuumed up their dead. They seem to have a choice location- this one window where sunrise warms them before the rest of the house. A few have journeyed to the bathroom where they linger on the mirror or wander on the tile overhead while I shower.

They are, I have often thought over the past few weeks, probably the only bugs who can live in the house in multitudes and not be at all bothersome. I even like them. "Oh look! It's a hundred ladybugs!" Try to think of just one other insect you could put in the place of ladybugs in that sentence and not have the sentiment followed up with screaming, shuddering or at the very least a look of grave concern. If not for the need to vacuum the dead, they would be perfect guests. They keep my house plants healthy and the serve as spring-like weather gauges. They amuse me by seeming to always (always!) know when I'm working on a project and showing up amongst the supplies. They play with you. "Oh no," they claim, "I do not want to leave this photo and move to the window, I like it here!" and then they refuse any efforts to relocate them until you finally, finally have them off your photo and moving towards the window and then they just leap into the air and fly off, easy peasy.

Tuesday Gratitude

2011-03-01T10:28:00.002-05:00

Happy March, friends. Only a few weeks until the equinox! I think weirdo daylight savings time is in there somewhere too. (Somebody might want to remind me on that one.)

Already we are noticing the return of the light. This morning, I woke up, looked at Moth, we both looked outside and our eyes got wide for that moment before he jumped up to see what time it was, likely fearing the alarm had somehow not gone off. Happily, it was pre-alarm and we got to lie there and enjoy the bright warmth of the return of the sun.

The flocks of robins continue to show up at least every other day. I had never thought of them as birds that flocked before, but then, I’d never seen so many all at once, either.

On Sunday we took advantage of the warmth and went for a hike around the lake and then came back up to the house to clean out the garden of last year’s debris. Underneath it all we found this year’s life. Tiny bulb sprouts of various kinds of lilies, the gentle smell of spearmint, the bright green yarrow patch, it’s all there.

Upon coming inside I began the ritual that lets me know that things are coming back to life: I rubbed down all exposed skin with jewelweed salve! (I am so very grateful for the existence of jewelweed and of my kitchen witchery that yielded a batch that will last through the next harvest.)

I had a whole routine last year by the end of the summer. Should I fear contact with poison ivy, I would first rub down with fresh split and bruised jewelweed. Then I would come inside and wash down with a jewelweed soap that I made, then smear the salve on. It was entirely effective and there is no such thing as overkill when it comes to preventing the horrors of PI, if you are me, or anyone in my vicinity.

This is a good teaching lesson, by the by. In March, poison ivy will not have any leaves, it will only be a vine. It will, however, be at its most potent as it’s gathered up all its energy to spring into action in the warmer weather. Use caution when handling vines and clearing areas! March poison ivy is sneakier and more deadly! I bear the scars to prove it. (End public service rant)

And as for the much-anticipated storms, it was over quickly but was still fairly impressive. For a while I could see the edge of the system, the sky to the southern-most mountains still blue hues while overhead stormy shades of gray shoved past. Within the first half hour the temperature had dropped ten degrees, the front door flew open and the streets were running with muddy water. The lightening was all around and the final lightening/thunder display was so present I just froze when it happened, the house shaking all around me. For a moment I thought all the light bulbs in the house must surely have exploded, the glass table rattled and my breath paused in the middle of an inhalation. In the moment that it happened I had just read a rather prophetic line in the book I was enjoying so it was all the more amusing for that. So. That means snow, weather people. Fit it in, and then bring on the spring!

Promise

2011-02-27T14:12:00.002-05:00

Today is warm, tomorrow warm and stormy. Thunder in February- doesn’t that mean snow? We shall see. For today, I am rejoicing in the promise of spring…

Sweet bulbs that I planted with my mother and grandmother in the fall have come up, and all around the various lilies are beginning to make a show. The trees, too, are beginning to bud. It’s hard to have patience, now, at this point, when it has been gray and brown for so long and I’m just so ready. But. Patience or lack thereof won’t change the timeline, so I might as well just keep still. (Spring or snow, either way, I’m good. It’s the brown and grey I’m sick of.)

For humor’s sake, though, I can just look up into the tree. Which tree, you ask. Why, the amazing squash tree!

Why? Because that’s where it landed, thank you very much. We’ll shake it down if it doesn’t make it of it’s own accord…..it’s way up there though. It could be quite the trick. Moth’s arm may be stronger than he thinks it is!

And now, back to the cleaning. Something about having the doors open and a breeze in the house makes me want to clean, so I’m going to take advantage of that rare enthusiasm and get back to moving everything around and cleaning in all those crazy nooks and crannies.

A Teeny Visitor

2011-02-25T15:38:00.002-05:00

We’d been having some trouble with the water pressure. It was low, and not for any reason we could think of. Winter brought plenty of precipitation, so the water table wasn’t a concern. Still, after it was discovered that the use of water in another part of the house could cancel out a shower (not reduce or change the water temperature, no, it just ceases to be shower time and there you stand, soapy and confused), it was time to investigate.

Moth went down this morning to change out the water filter in case for some reason it had become dirtier than usual and needed to be changed out early. Old filter came out, new filter went in. Something didn’t seal quite right, so new filter came out…with a passenger….

Say hello to Skinkward the Salamander (thusly named due to initial mistaken identity). Some time ago, Skinkward was living his life on top of the mountain. Then, he either went for a dip in the spring and came out on the wrong end, or he somehow climbed into a cistern and entered a period of his life he shall later refer to as the pipe days, wherein he traveled in very cold spring water through the dark pipes until finally, finally he was rescued.

Sadly, the camera did not come on the relocation mission, or here I would be able to show you this happy little creature hanging out on wet leaves by the creek where I’m sure he’ll enjoy the greater variety of food available to him.

If only the mice were so eager to leave our house….as it is, it is clear that their thieving is not limited to food. They recently stole some bird wings that had *just* finished drying (oh, you dastardly mice!) and since I’ve cleaned quite a few times since Christmas, I can only assume that inside the walls of my home are art installations made from stolen earrings. That, or I need to watch out for a flying, bejeweled mouse queen.

Tuesday Gratitude

2011-02-22T14:14:00.005-05:00

Growing Green Things Between Hattie Magnolia (who is growing SO fast!) and the bulbs I finally located (they'd started growing without me!) my kitchen has lots of new life which brings me much joy when I see it.

Baby Cows It might be that life in a remote location is getting to me, but these days, I am very excited about looking at baby cows. Maybe it's the same sort of glee that I get from the sprouting bulbs- new life, the promise of spring. Or maybe it's the adorable splayed-leg wobble that gives way to the baby cow gallop, but either way, I'm all about it. Doesn't matter where I'm going, if I'm leaving my house I am going to see baby cows, and this makes me happy. I do, by the way, know that they are properly called calves.

Groundscores One of the lesser-thought-of benefits to Moth's job is that I too get to benefit. Generally speaking, he's the one who gets to see all the shows and gets all the collectibles but me? I get the goodies left behind. The most recent was a very fancy shirt and a burner CD with music that is SO good I was all but dancing in my chair listening to it. I was also knitting, so I'm pretty glad that dance wasn't witnessed. But. Music SO good.

And now I'm going to go express gratitude for my theatre job by getting back to it....

Happy Tuesday, friends.

Oh, Distraction

2011-02-18T09:54:00.003-05:00

At 9:30am it was 60 degrees. I am thrilled.

In fact, instead of going back to bed after getting Moth off to work at 7, I ended up staying up because I was so pleased about today's warmth. A new victory occurred today: when the alarm wasn't heard (because the phone was on vibrate, whoops) and Moth discovered that he was set to leave in 15 minutes, he very calmly walked back into the bedroom and told me what time it was and how soon he needed to leave. No cursing! No unhappy exclamations! It was awesome. AND he got out the door in time. So, maybe that's why I stayed up. I didn't need to restart my day by going back to bed and doing it over.

I am finding myself very resistant to sitting down to work today. Or any day recently. I hate needing a job that is slowly spiraling down the toilet. And I don't feel like doing it at all, yet there aren't any decent jobs in this town, so I'm still doing it. Hmm. Oh, school, how I long for you. Or investors in one of my many cottage industry ideas, those would work too. Because of said resistance, I have so far made laundry soap, resulting in my stirring hand smelling like eucalyptus, rosemary and lavender, washed a few loads and contemplated what kind of bread to make. Oh, and I'm keeping an eye on the wind because when it dies down, I am out the door to visit the warm grass.

Edit: day of awesome warmness was a let down. It didn't get warmer past 10am, it was quite windy and now it looks like it's about to storm. Oh well.

Hattie Lives

2011-02-16T17:11:00.002-05:00

Hattie Magnolia Lives! Hattie Magnolia is a peony named after my great-grandmother. She lives in a big blue plastic tub and good news- she's not dead. I had planned to pull her up and hang her in cool storage over the winter, which is what my great-grandmother used to do. I'm thinking now that this "peonies don't withstand the freezing very well" might not have quite been the case having seen evidence to the contrary on the mountaintop, and especially now that I left poor Hattie out through the worst of winter in nothing but a bucket which is much colder than the ground. A few weeks ago I realized she was out there and hauled the frigid bucket in, looking sadly at the dead base. Then I left the bucket where it was on the kitchen floor for several weeks, because I'm a great housekeeper like that. The new shoots are several inches high and so, in a repeat of last year, Hattie will be blooming out of sync with the seasons but with glorious timing. And hey, really, I'm just glad she's alive.

Tuesday Gratitude

2011-02-15T22:47:00.002-05:00

Look, I've got a whole hour left in which to make this post and not have fallen off the posting wagon the first week out. Thank goodness for bullet points :) Should I have made that my first?

Hot Water. Moth and I enjoyed a long soak in some of the local hot springs for valentine's day. Water good :) Hot showers good, hot baths good, and entire tubs of spring water...even better.

Ladies. I recently got to enjoy visiting with some of my favorite females, a visit complete with chocolate wine and much laughter.

Moth. All the time, really. Moth and I have been trapped in a snowstorm together for days on end with no company other than each other and been really happy at the end of it- whatever works between us thrives on extensive periods of time in the other's company, and I am continually so very grateful for him. But I mention it this Tuesday 'cause it's cheesy hearts and flowers day! He's really been upping the creativity lately and making the gifts he gives me, which makes them all the more impressive because while I wouldn't have thought he wasn't capable, I really wouldn't have guessed that jewelry was something he was so very skilled at. It's all the more special when he's clearly spent time and creativity in putting together shiny pretties for me to wear. (Eloquence, I has it.)

Bears! Seeing a bear from the safety of the car is pretty awesome. I love bears. I love how fast and nimble they are. The bears you see lumbering around at the zoo? Yeah, that's a misinformation campaign (or a reflection on the effects of captivity) because the bears I see in the wild can move at high speeds and look very coordinated and graceful. Most recent bear sighting was late Sunday night.

And now, I'm going to go practice more gratitude by turning on the electric blanket (which I thought I would never use and Moth frowned at) and letting it warm up my bed for me (which we love dong on evenings we don't have the house very warm), snuggling up with Moth and engaging in my favorite wintertime activity: sleep! Sure, the bear was out for a walk late at night, but it was unseasonably warm, and I bet most bears would take my side of the conceptual idea that winter is for sleeping. Except when it's snowing. Or warm. Or really bright. I'm going now, before that completely falls apart.

Random

2011-02-10T17:27:00.003-05:00

Hot and spicy shiitake jerky and coffee with hot chocolate mix in it actually go together alright. Whether this is an anomaly of my own taste buds, a result of hunger and sleepiness or just one of the many food chemistry magics that exist is as of yet unknown. A repeat test with regular wakefulness on a day when I've remembered to have all my meals should be conducted to determine the validity of my assessment.

I keep thinking "oh, I need to get those pictures off of the camera for the blog" but I actually have no idea what pictures are on the camera and when or why I took them. I also only remember this when away from home, conveniently never able to locate the camera and check on these mystery pictures. It's sort of like how I usually think of calling people at odd hours and then forget that I'd had the thought until a few days later at another very late or early hour.

I have come to realize I spend a lot of my time thinking about the weather. Clouds, sunshine, snow, these are what I have to talk about. I'd like to one day know where I'm going to live year in and out so that I can gleefully plan my garden, but that doesn't really seem to be the case just yet. Instead I look at piles of seed packages and know that most likely I will be drawing out the plot only after I've planted things. It's alright, there's more than enough to do in the house. Like kill adorable mice, for example. They had been staying mostly in the basement recently, or so I thought. Then I opened an oft-unused drawer and found that it was full of rice. Which, I know where they got the rice. The mysterious seeds that they filled my coat pockets with when I left it downstairs, however, are somewhat odder. Oh, mice. You are cute and tiny, and you keep hiding your food supply in my clothes. I am comforted by the fact that you never poop where your food is, but all that really means is that the insides of my walls are probably lined with poop, since I don't see it out and about anywhere. I need small owls to go in my walls and eat the mice. Since I don't see that happening, I guess it's time to murder them with poison. They've grown wise to the humane traps so it's a sad but necessary last resort.

Tuesday Gratitude

2011-02-08T09:53:00.002-05:00

In an effort to post more regularly, I have decided to try to schedule Tuesdays as a posting day, and specifically, a thematic today. I'm unwilling to commit yet to the theme, but gratitude seems a nice place to start.

So, today, I am grateful for...

New tires. The best for snow and ice and mud without being a snow tire variety of tire now on the front wheels of my car are making life on the mountain top much better, and when combined with chains, I feel very confident in my car's winter abilities, as well as my ability to get home should I find myself in town when snow or ice become a reality on the roads.

Snow altitude. It's not much warmer in town but it is decidedly less beautiful, so I'm glad to live high enough that ice and snow coat the trees and make the world a shining, glittery place. I'm really gunning for one last big snow. Moth says I have to wait until the Jeep is fixed, so not this week, but at least one more would be nice.

Sunday recharging. Moth and I were out late visiting with friends on Saturday night and then proceeded to stay up even later once we got home, snacking and chatting in the hallway by the heater before finally crawling in bed while we still had a little bit of dark left in the sky. Consequently, Sunday was excessively lazy and involved mostly making food and napping on the couch together. (Rinse, repeat) Oh, and Futurama episodes. It was a great day for recharging and resting together before diving into the week.

Bake Scones, Chop Wood

2011-02-02T16:00:00.001-05:00

Promise

2011-01-29T12:21:00.006-05:00

Today is much warmer, tomorrow promises to be almost blissfully warm. (Ask me again in summer how these temps feel and I'm sure to tell you they are quite cold! Ah, perspective.) These days of sunshine before the clouds return and the temps begin to dip back below freezing, however, are the early promises of the changes set to come in several months time.

Inside, it is bright and colorful with the promise of spring, while outside, the snow still glows on the ground in large swatches while the brown of winter grass is revealed in other places, birds hopping about, happy to see ground again.

Sometime after the wedding we had friends over for dinner who brought us a gift with two springs of rosemary stuck through the twine, along with a flower. I stuck them in water, and soon I'll need to plant these darlings...

I'm normally pretty good about my seasonal eating, this year included. Since fall, I've had naught but dried tomatoes, my preserved tomato sauce, and I've of course cooked with some of the tomatoes I froze as well. I completely ignore that part of the produce section, using my powers of non-observance to actually not even see the stacks of greenhouse tomatoes or the California produce. Yesterday, though, was different. I walked into the co-op and instead of walking past a pile of identical not-worth-eating tomatoes (seriously people, those things do NOT taste like tomatoes. They only look like them) my non-observance sensors completely failed me because lo and behold, a pile of heirloom tomatoes, all colors and shapes and sizes. I stopped, puzzled. I glanced up, quizzically. Florida, but of course. Florida is a strange land where they plant their gardens long after frost and snow have covered mine. But...Florida isn't nearly so far away as California. It would be less than a day on a truck....and heirlooms. Well, you probably already know what happened next....

Oh, glorious pink and green alongside red, yes. Delicious.

Our mountain has it's own weather. Drive halfway down the mountain and it's just brown and plain, not a sight of white anywhere. Drive back up the mountain and you'll pass a steep hill still covered in white, but fortunately now also covered in sand and arrive to the top to, well, snow. And a frozen lake. (Let me take a moment to be grateful about the sand because as awesome as my tire chains are, putting them on to go up a hill, taking them off until you get to the top of the mountain and then putting them back on again for the drive up the snow and ice covered gravel/dirt is just a little much. Better than walking up, sure, but not nearly as good as only having to put them on once.)

White

2011-01-28T11:45:00.008-05:00

To wake up in such bright light is a bit different for me. Moth wakes up and looks out at the view and notices the brightness. I wake up and see only bright, white light and glow beyond the windows. Then I find my glasses on the nightstand and put them on to reach a greater understanding of what, exactly, is going on. On the odd night that I sleep in my contacts, I really enjoy being able to peer out at the world without having to do more than turn my head, but this is rare. Usually, my first deductions on what the day will be like are much more blurry.

Yesterday morning was particularly fantastic. Ice on top of snow, and the world was magical, glistening, and white against a brilliant blue sky. The blue of the sky- the only bright color we have these days - meant something else important too: solar gain. It was the first day in many that waking up hasn't meant hustling down the stairs to convince the coals from the previous night's fire to gather and catch the first load of wood for the day. Today too, is like this. The sun warms us and we won't build a fire until afternoon. It is rare, but lovely.

I was charmed by the bright light, but it wasn't until I saw the oak out the bathroom window (The bathroom window in the morning is perhaps one of my favorite views here, amusingly enough. I think maybe it's the perspective on the world, looking up and out each day and watching the seasons change. It is a small view, it doesn't take much to look at it, and yet it is always, always beautiful.) Anyway, the charm of this view was nearly too much for me to handle so early into my day...

It was a bit difficult to look out the back door without one's eyebrows flying up in wonder...

And so it was, for the first half of the day....

Today the trees are brown, but the sun is peeking through here and there, so I'll take it :) It's a little easier to get work done when you aren't battling the desire to press your face to every window simultaneously or grab your camera and run outside. I need to find a way to make a living doing this, somehow. I firmly believe that tending the land is about the best thing a person could do for their days on earth, but unfortunately, there are very, very few profitable ways to do that and I'm not willing to give up everything else that I like just so I can be a farmer. On days like this, I think of one of my favorite quotes about St Francis having to wring the sunlight out of his robes after walking outdoors. Kate Braestrup refers to him as flabbergasted in some of her writings- this seems like a pretty good description for my own reactions, which mostly involve hopping up and down and making high pitched squeaky noises. (Don't worry Mom, I behave like a normal human in public...mostly.)

Notes

2011-01-26T17:23:00.004-05:00

Seal and beaver fur make the warmest hat you have ever encountered. Once you tie down the ear flaps, you are also almost entirely deaf. I really want some mittens too, but I don't want tourist Eskimo mittens, I want the real deal, which seems like they might be harder to find.

Hang out on top of a mountain for long enough and 32 degrees without wind becomes a comfortable temperature to be outside in.

The maple syrup mystery has been solved. Let me back up. For months now, my sweat has smelled like maple syrup. I used to dance many many hours a day, so I was quite familiar with the smell of my sweat- and maple syrup it was not. So. I was a little concerned....but not TOO concerned because really, smelling somewhat delicious at the end of a 13-hour day in the theatre is actually a pretty nifty thing. Still. It was a little odd. Turns out, fenugreek (which tastes bitter to me, mind you) is used to make maple flavoring. I've been eating the sprouts in my sprout mix- currently just broccoli sprouts and fenugreek- this whole time. Mystery solved. Sweet smelling sweat, now you're just a odd side effect of eating lots of phyto-nutrients.

The Christmas tree continues to dwell happily on the porch- it is green, it's branches are happy and it's not dropping needles. I wonder if it's rooting in there or just a really epic tree? It's been cut since mid-November....

shakes fist at melting

2011-01-20T01:46:00.002-05:00

SO much was melted by the time we got home (at 1am because, well, theatre) but we did manage to get a few melting prints shots. Also, thanks to Google, I can show you what it looked like this morning:

(Mountain lion print courtesy of the Washington Nature Mapping Program)

What remained when we arrived at the tracks tonight (this morning?) was this:

Not so much what we left this morning in the deeper snow- the fourth toe has melted as has the whole of the main pad and there is less definition over all (obv), but still, so happy it was there at all. It's funny, doing a Google Image search yields lots of "wow, that's it exactly!" so if nothing else, there's that. You can tell front paw from back in a lot of the prints too, and of course, there are a number of other animal tracks around as well.

Being a reasonable person who has recently seen bobcat prints (about half the size) and who knows there are a lot of dogs running around, I did two things. One, I checked this chart:

and two, I went and looked at the many, many dog tracks in our yard. Not at all close in shape or spacing. So.

Paths Cross

2011-01-19T11:06:00.005-05:00

I hope to return before melting occurs and get pictures of this. You'll see why.

The background: warmish temperatures and traffic have turned the road into slush about 6 inches deep. My car is therefore parked down at the gate. There is a shortcut sort of straight down the mountainside that is .2 miles (vs the mile of walking on the road) so we take this up and down.

The Jeep will be fixed (again, some more) just as soon as time permits- it's a busy theatre week for Moth. 'Till then, it's the little car up and down the mountain- which does great and with chains can handle a fair bit of snow and ice. Slush, though, there's no help for.

So. Hiking down the mountain side. In tracks from previous hikes. Tralala. Pass the plum tree, start down the hill and - stop - because there crossing our tracks are big cat tracks. I mean, BIG cat tracks. Twice as big as bobcat tracks. As in, Mountain Lion. Moth and I just stood there making incredulous noises until our lateness overcame our desire to check out the tracks and we slip-slid our way the rest of the way down the hillside to the road.

Note to self: carry big stick up hill at night, just in case you look like a snack.

The one where things melt (more)

2011-01-18T16:30:00.006-05:00

Warmer days are slowly melting the snow away, leaving a slushy, drippy world behind. Today was in fog, clouds on the porch all morning. Sometime after lunch, however, there was a reprieve- brightness! Not quite sunshine, but brightness! It was very exciting. Islands appeared in the sky...

I was oh-so excited about the brightness. Blue sky even. Then the clouds rolled through and it was grey once more, giving only one last peek at the world beyond the mountain top...

Now I'm off to spy on birds. Last count in the forsythia had two cardinals and five blue (umm..swallows? They were blue on top, light on bottom) birds.

And on we go.

2011-01-14T17:41:00.004-05:00

I have found a most excellent happy medium for the tree. It's out of the home, many if not most of its needles have been removed from the carpet and the glass table is back in it's usual spot, already covered in projects and crafts. I haven't had to fully say goodbye to the tree yet, however, as it's on the deck just outside the window where we can continue to enjoy it. My plan is to rig it up with some bird snacks so I can also enjoy a bit of birdwatching.

Walking in the snow is really quite exhausting. I go from "whee, tromping in snow" to "must reach final destination before urge to take a nap in snowbanks reaches tipping point of common sense."

Still, up here the views are rather worth it. These trees were quite nice, for example, and I regret to inform you that the cold killed the batteries on the camera before you could see the most amazing view ever. You can, however, take note that I am wearing a dead seal on my head and therefor never ONCE was my head even remotely chilly. Dear seal and bear hat, made in Quinnhagak, you are amazing.

(Ok, so you can only see a sliver of the hat. You'll have to extrapolate the rest.)

When we reached the top of the ridge there was this amazing view where straight ahead of us was black and white- just white snow and black trees, and to either side, amazing blue sky with pink clouds and all this lovely color. The contrast was stark and stunning, and then the darkness of grey came over us and it was time to hurry back down the hill. Nothing strikes "GO NOW" into your heart and legs like a long walk in deep snow when you realize more storm could be coming. We got down fine, obviously, and the only danger was crankiness or getting really caught up in trying to decide what animal made which tracks. Bunnies and bobcats and deer and chipmunks and "who knows!"

New Year

2011-01-04T14:46:00.003-05:00

I am rather against taking down the Christmas tree. It's lovely, it smells good, I like the lights, and sure, I'd love to have the space back, but it's a bit sad, the taking down. When I was small, my mother tells me, there was one year when she found me sobbing in my room looking out the window at the Christmas tree on the side of the road for pick-up. I do not remember this, and I think it only happened once, but there is a tiny bit of me that just doesn't like the idea of tossing out a tree. I suppose, it makes it real that the tree was cut down, which, while watering it in your home is a fact you can rather easily ignore if you just think of it as a *really* thirsty houseplant.

Fortunately, I keep thinking of good reasons to have it up. Clearly, the 6th was an obvious take-down date, but then I realized that Eastern Orthodox Christmas is the 7th and while I've forgotten my other reasons, I had a few more that extended at least through the 9th.

The real test will be needles, I suppose, as I doubt our vacuum has the fortitude to handle more than a thin sprinkling.

New Year's is significant, and yet not. It is an arbitrary line in the sand- one that is drawn differently for different people. I will celebrate New Year once again in about a month when we come in to the Year of the Hare. I will celebrate it being a new year at least three times, probably, and gosh- what a great way to increase your opportunities for embracing change, letting go of what no longer serves you and becoming, step by step, more of what you want to be. There are those who come back with "but shouldn't that just be everyday, then" but I think it's helpful to have those guideposts along the way. Here, at the return of the sun and that confusing time of the year when I have to make a conscious effort to date things properly, it's time to embrace change, let go of the old, and decide what the new looks like so that I can manifest it with clarity and joy.

White Christmas

2011-01-03T22:29:00.005-05:00

Snow Melts

2010-12-29T12:54:00.004-05:00

The last of our holiday guests have safely made it down the mountain although probably not without crossed fingers and a bit of breath-holding.

It's awfully quiet now, and we're scheduled for a fair stretch of warmer weather so I guess I'll be up here watching the snow melt and working for much of that. I'm hoping the road will be more easily traversable soon, although I'm feeling pretty great about driving now that I have chains for my car. There was a hilarious "Oh, we'll switch the cars and put the chains on the carport" caper in which I slid my car down a hill not once but twice. So, the chains went on at the bottom of the hill in the grass. Then, I drove back up that hill (yes, the one I couldn't even drive down) like a rockstar. Chains = thumbs up. Of course, there is that whole clearance issue with my car, but still. Up the hill!

Since I was able to keep several of my guests captive thanks to the foot of snow that fell on Christmas, my house is very much put back together, only one more load of laundry to testify to the fact that anything out of the ordinary happened, and I must say, I rather miss the hustle and bustle, the constant cycling of dishes, mugs of Russian Tea, hot chocolate, coffee and specialty snow drinks*, the presents and wrapping paper, the glow of holiday lights, the way the laundry/furnace room was always filled with coats, boots, gloves, socks and snow-soaked jeans.

Now, back to work. Due to the ironies of the universe, I find myself writing sports content. I know now what "cushion in his backpedal" means. It wasn't what I thought it might :)

*Specialty snow drinks. My father has a special gift to create amazing mixed drinks, fueled by his own creativity and lack of pre-conceived notions of what goes together (he doesn't really drink). He once made me a drink that tasted EXACTLY like cinnamon toast using eggnog, peach schnops and cinnamon. I think it must be in the stirring technique. This year featured "Tropical Blizzard" and "Saturday Morning Cartoon" two most excellent drinks tasting exactly what they sound like featuring snow as a main ingredient.

Good Morning World

2010-12-21T16:51:00.003-05:00

Shortest Day. Darkest Day. Winter, Welcome.

Snow

2010-12-15T16:20:00.006-05:00

Hmm. You know, I forget that there are plants hanging everywhere in my kitchen. Maybe I'll get around to consolidating those. Green peppers turn red if you hang the whole plant, but ideally you make your strands of red peppers once they are red and dry. Whoops.

Oh power lines, how I find you in all the great north shots...
(also, thank you power lines, I'm glad to have you still up there in the air after that wind and precipitation)

I loved these formations that seemed to change daily....

Lack of Pictures

2010-12-13T09:36:00.005-05:00

It's amazing outside, but I can't take pictures. Well, I could, but that whole steady at 30 gusting up to 55 mph winds with an actual temperature of 8 (and so a windchill of negative billion) means that, um, no. Even the weatherman said "Stay inside or else dress like a snowman to avoid frostbite and hypothermia" so I think, since I'm stuck up here by myself (meaning, nobody to help me get un-snowmanned when I come in), that I'll stay in. Maybe later I'll document all the snow and ice stuck to the doors and windows (and how covered areas are filled with snow). The high is supposed to be around 4pm or so, so I might try then- that's when it's supposed to start snowing again (I thought it was snowing now....might just be windblown I guess...) and the wind may die down then...I hope.

(Could I use any more parenthesis [here, let me try] in this entry?)

Instead of snow, I offer you one of the more interesting views that I often look for on my drive up the mountain, which is of course, goats in a tree....

Pardon the terrible cell-phone picture. No zoom :( But still, goats up a tree! Usually, it's only the black one, but this time he had a friend up there!.

Fangs

2010-12-07T18:57:00.003-05:00

Thus far, snow does not melt here, it just gets blown away. Last night the electricity blew away too (probably literally, the winds were ferocious), and we were left sitting under the tree by candlelight and basking in the bright light and heat of the wood furnace as we stock it full for the night.

As I sit around on these 10 to 14 degree days, I must admit that a bit of carnivory emerges and the fangs sharpen and I am ill content with anything but intense protein and fat. I should have known. After a good romp in the snow yesterday (have you ever heard water lapping over balls of ice? It's a charming sound, like the tinkling of gentle chimes or pebbles) I was full of energy and movement and the temperature difference in the house had me hot and fired up. No doubt that burned much of the "use this in the freezing cold" stores and then just kept going because, well, it was fun. Going and going and going. I even did a barre (ballet) in the kitchen afterwords because it was just *there*

And now I'm all predatory carnivore, but don't worry bunnies, you're too cute to eat, even if you did eat my fall garden.

Importance of Letting Go

2010-12-06T12:36:00.005-05:00

It isn't just fir trees that teach us lessons. Apple trees also let us know about what things work....

For example, there is a good time to drop apples, and then there is not dropping your apples and getting stuck with frozen, rotty apples. (We also have trees with red apples frozen on them, which is actually a bit Christmas-y looking, but still a little off, especially when the snow is flying by horizontally at 20 mph.)

The world says good morning, just before the winds pick up and start tossing snow in every direction (really, you can watch snow moving in three and four directions just looking out one window sometimes, although it generally has a steady from-the-northwest current at the moment:

Just to be clear- the porch you are looking at is covered and on the south side of the house. There really oughtn't be snow there, but the winds have seen fit to make sure that snow gets everywhere, hence, snow on the windows.