Momentary Magic: Leap Day!

In fact, Leap Day is a very fleeting kind of magic.  It only last 24 hours, once every 4 years.

I recently heard someone talking on a local radio station about doing away with leap day.  Not only that, but he seemed to think it would be a very good idea to divide the calendar evenly so that the first day of each month always fell on the same day, and we would never need new calendars.  He must have realized that in order to have such symmetry you could only have 364 days in each year, because he concluded with the idea that we could even everything out by having a leap week every few years.  So that would be 13 months of 28 days with a “leap week” every seven years?  You would still need that special calendar every 7th year, the one with the extra week in it.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but that would mean the days we mark as seasonal observances, such as solstices and equinoxes would still occur, only on different days, each year as we would continue to lose a day out of every year.  Perhaps we could ask the earth to orbit the sun faster instead of taking 365.24 (approximately, and I’m rounding down) days in which to make this journey.

No.  I love leap year.  I love that we’ve created this special day that only “exists” every 4 years.  To me it is a magical doorway.  One that leads to Imagi Nation.  I would never want to see us do away with it just to make a tidier row of boxes on a calendar.

An Alternate Reality

That’s the name given to my new podcast.
.

It’s a format where I can give a voice to my observations and ramble a little bit about...oh, you know. Just life

An alternate reality sort of describes the way I’ve chosen to live.  I really don’t fit into the parameters dictated by society, especially for someone my age.

Born under mutable Gemini, I find myself constantly drifting from one expression of reality to another.  It follows me in my daily routine, (what routine??) and allows me to navigate through a sort of platform 9 3/4 on my way to whatever expression of myself I need to be to get the job done, whether I need to be a book-binder, a farmer, an energy worker, a writer, chief cook and bottle washer, accountant and book keeper, and/or just general dog’s body and go-for.

After a few years of living like that, I had sort of moved into a very narrow expression of myself, perhaps in order to move into the confines of each job I was asking myself to do.

“Wait a minute!”  I had to ask myself, “When did that happen??”  Time to let my mind expand again. Time to remember a more fluid way of doing this.  Time to release tightly woven bonds that have crept in...the learned patterns that twine around me like ivy twining round a tree.  Eventually the ivy becomes a parasite that kills its host.

Yeah, so fair warning...If you listen to An Alternate Reality, you may be in for that kind of a ramble.  Also stories, essays, and just plain (or not so plain) observations about life in my little world, and the world beyond.

Raining

We're having a rainy afternoon in the South Puget Sound area.

The cats are snoozing, Mike is reading, and I am working on our income tax return.

Seems like a good day to write instead, but someone's gotta do it.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's back to work I go...

Here's a page from Hearth & Home vol 1 Summer.  I really do have more of them to release, but this one is the only one that made it to print so far.

Another Gorgeous Day

Yes!  I love this weather.  I love being outside!

I started my day sitting on my front porch --"noticing".  Aaannnd--I actually wrote today.  I think it's been over a year since I've written anything new.  It was a real pleasure.

What I noticed about the mind set around writing is that, there is a certain frame of emotional well being that I have to be in, in order to see a potential story happening.  I have been living in a high stress environment, which is normal for a lot of people, I suppose, but it's not something I look for in my life.

However, today I realized that if I consciously disengage from the to do list spiraling around in my head...again, not really my consciousness of choice...but if I can disengage from that, I see magical things.  And they become stories.  My body remembers how to do it.  The only challenge is to remember to shift into it at odd moments.  Any moment.  Practice...practice.

So this was given to me...

And written down at 9 am on April 1, 2016...

The sun has been up for hours. 

But here-- 

It is only now rising above tree tops and shining through branches still bare of leaves. 

Now--before the dew dries from the grass and with the rays lighting up each individual droplet, standing on each individual tip of grass-- 

Only now, at this exact time when the sun shines on the ground, but is shaded from my face, can I see a wondrous network of shining webs.   

Each individual strand in motion moved by currents of air seems to pulse, much like I imagine neural pathways convey information within my own body.  

I ponder these threads which sparkle and shift with the ripple of grasses.   

To pull back in my vision brings this landscape of countless threads into sharper focus. 

This--so like a laser show pulsing to the bird chorus that plays in 'surround sound' all around me.   

I look closer and see webs waving on the air 

each emanating from a minute spider which could fit comfortably on the head of a small pin.   

They ride the currents on these web strands which act as sails to catch the gentlest breeze, no stronger than a baby's breath.    

My rooster crows   

Beginning a new movement in the bird symphony 

Supported by a gentle rhythmic clucking in the hen section of the orchestra.   

The webs fade from my vision as the sun climbs higher in our sky and the spell is broken.   

I rise from my seat to begin my work day and feel a gentle resistance.   

I turn my head in time to watch a web anchored to my shoulder stretch and break free as the silver thread captained by its tiny spider, goes sailing off 

Rippling on waves of air. 

--Rita Tortorello 

Spring Mysteries

Rocky has somehow injured his wing.  

He came flying out of the hen house on Saturday morning like he always does, and landed wrong.  He lay on the ground and I came running over in alarm to see what was wrong.  When he got up his wing was sticking out a bit, and the feathers were disarranged.

I felt my stomach lurch a little and said a quick prayer.  Then began watching him to observe his reactions.  I did some energy work with him, and decided to leave him alone.  I know from experience that it's hard to give your animal space when they are ill or injured, but it really is in their best interest.  I didn't want my over concern intruding on his space.  What do humans know anyway, about the ways of nature.

Later that day I did some more energy work.  And his wing seemed to shift position on his body and look more relaxed.  Also he began preening himself, and his feathers came back into alignment.

I had a full day of work including clients to see for BodyTalk, so I allowed my attention to disengage from him once more.

By evening thanks to the beautiful weather we were having, the temperature dropped and I noticed when I closed the door on the hen house that the hens were snuggled up to him, keeping him warm and he had his head tucked under his good wing--something I've never seen him do.

He's been getting better daily, but there is still a problem with the wing and he has a rough time getting out of the hen house in the morning.  I'm determined to make some modifications in the interior today so he can get up in the mornings without injuring himself further.

With the exception of his wing not getting full extension, he seems nearly normal.  He crows and flaps, chases after hens and eats heartily.  It's a mystery to me how he injured his wing.  Did he do it coming out of the house on Saturday, or was it injured the day before, causing him to crash land on his way out the next morning?  Either way, the sooner I get them moved to their new "pasture" in my little half acre yard, the better I'll feel about the whole thing.  They'll have more cover and more to do.  The space is probably a little smaller, but not by much, and it will be new and interesting.

Animals get bored too and chickens are industrious.  If Ruby is bored, she will find a way to escape and get into a part of the yard, I don't want her in.  As soon as the garden gets planted by mid April, I want to make sure she can't get into it.  And that goes for the cats too, until it's well established.

Spring Weather

The weather has continued to be very fine, with bright sunshine and warmer temps during the day, though bone chilling at night.  Maybe it's just the contrast, because it doesn't seem to be freezing at my place in the night, but I'm reacting more to the cold in the mornings and evenings.  That cold mist that moves in overnight on sunny days.  Brrrrrrr.

But...Stuck Indoors Mostly

Unfortunately, I am mostly stuck indoors right now, though I'd rather be outdoors.  So I realized that I was being a dope!  Yes, I have to work on the income taxes right now, and it takes me a month usually, (because I'm too busy to organize my book keeping while it's happening during the year), but I could perhaps take everything outdoors to work on it??  That is, if I can see my computer screen.  

I must say though, that it has been easier this year, so I must have made some improvements in organization somewhere.

Organization is my biggest challenge at this stage of my life.  I prefer spontaneity to structure, but I am learning a new skill in taking on all these new tasks which require a schedule in order to meet all of my goals.  

My life is an interesting mix of mayhem and magic, which keeps things interesting. 

Having said that...I think I'll go wash my dishes outside now...who knows what might be going on out there.

Addendum

What did I tell you?  Even as I was getting ready to hit the publish button on this post, Ruby came knocking at the back door.  She just wanted to be social.

Springy

It's been a dark sunny day today in the maritime northwest.  Spring has displayed her ability to paint a rainbow against a dark sky.  Sun-drenched trees dazzle, encrusted with glittering raindrops reflecting their prism colors as they cling to bare twigs.

Today was a day spent noticing things.  I will never take that aspect of my character for granted again.  After months spent being too busy to be present with my environment on a daily basis...I am seeing the magic again.  I have missed it.

Where did this face come from?  As soon as I ask the question, the answer comes to me.  A sprite uses the water droplets for a looking glass.  And what made me magnify this photo to even look for it?  The beaming visage invites me to open my awareness.  I've been missing too much.

Stories have been trying to get my attention today.

It's been over a year since I've written.  Life should never become too filled up doing things you do just to get by.

Since I had the camera in my hand I meandered through the yard, taking random photos.

The first thing that caught my attention was the forsythia in full bloom.  My mom had just asked me about it the other day during a phone conversation.  I could only remember seeing one sprig trying bravely to bloom.  I just assumed last summer's drought had taken it's toll on it, as it had so many other plants.  But here it is blooming magnificently.

Magic!

Tulip bulbs and Hyacinth will not survive here.  The furry ones that live under ground love those things.  I might as well be passing out candy to children.  But the daffodils...

They just keep coming.

 In fact, they're starting to spread out.

And speaking of spreading out...

Here's a flower that spreads where ever I plant it.  A welcome invasion.

I was noticing how much my front yard looks like a forest floor.  I'm sure my neighbors are horrified, but I'm very proud of it.  This is my lawn.

However, I have planted some "mistakes".  Apologies to the Hellebore plants for calling them a mistake, but they spread like a noxious weed, and I need to hone my gardening chops  if I'm going to keep them in check.  They have taken over, where there used to be alpine strawberry.  I really miss those little guys.

And another plant I rescued, struggling for life at the side of the road, was the money plant, or silver dollar as we called it when I was growing up.  I put it in my yard...it seemed like a good idea at the time.  If only my US currency would multiply as fast as the silver dollar plant.  One plant has become hundreds, and not very pretty at that.  

I have no one to blame but myself for that.

I'm afraid they choked out the native yellow wood violet that I planted there from my parent's woods before they moved.  I looked, but couldn't find any sign of that beautiful little plant.  Maybe my friend Rebbeckah has them in her woods...viola glabella.

Next, I visited the Oregon Grape.  It grows throughout my place, and I love it.  

And this showed up all over too--Indian Plum--in bloom at the moment.

Here's one I planted.  Pussy Willow given to me by my sister.  A start from my gramma's yard.  It's gotten so big, I can't even reach those little fuzzy guys.

See that?  I nearly missed seeing them.  They love this part of my yard.  The front is East facing, and dominated by a large old oak.  It's very foresty here.  The back is mostly like a field.  But the trees are moving in there too.  Cherry and little fir trees are popping up.  The trees that were already there when I moved here 15 years ago--the birch, and fruit trees--are old and kind of sickly, but as they are winding down, the little ones come in to replace them.  Lilac is being replaced by Hazel and the pink ornamental Cherry trees that were planted 20 years ago or more, are being replaced by the Bing Cherry trees that have grown wild in this neighborhood for decades.  

And it's all Nature.  I gave up trying to plant trees around here.  Only the trees that belong here can survive.  I have a row of dying arbor vitae, which were green and healthy before last summer's drought.

Having wandered around the front yard, I decided to visit the chickens.  I see them everyday, but I wanted to take pictures.

Here's Rocky.

He takes care of the flock.  Every night when I close the door to the hen house, I thank him for the Peeps and for watching the flock.  I count heads -5 peeps, 3 hens, and Rocky- and I am grateful that we got through another day without any losses, and that there are eggs in the box.

Yes, I really am that close to him.  But I'm not crazy enough to stand eyeball to eyeball with him without a fence between us.  In order to get a full picture of him, I had to stand back because whenever I get near enough to the fence to avoid having the wire in the photo, he has to be right there checking me out.  

See, even in this picture he's got his eye on me.

But what have we here?  

One of the Peeps is a Cockerel!  This is Sparky.  So far this is working out, but I don't know for how long.  My place is too small to support 2 flocks.  I love this little guy.  And he's not so little.  He's 16 weeks old today, and nearly the same size as his mom Ruby.  Of course, they all look small next to Rocky, who is twice as big as my full grown hens.  

Oh well, maybe I can manage two flocks if I have to.

But let's face it, I'd rather not.  Maybe by some miracle, Rocky will tolerate him somewhat.  Just sayin'.  Just prayin'...

Two full grown hens and two 16 week old Peeps.  Sparky and Ruby face to face.

Okay, just two more chicken pics.

Tricksy with Daffodils.  Yes, I know daffodils are poisonous.  Apparently chickens know that too, because I've never seen them eat one. 

All five Peeps are rarely together.  I'm constantly asking, "Where's number 5?" And then I see her with the hens or with Rocky.  There's always one isn't there?  The kid that just wants to hang out with the adults instead of with the other kids.  I put this picture in because I wanted to show how Sparky stands out from the others even though their coloring is almost identical.  He's had his red comb since he was about 5 weeks old.  They grow so fast.

This is Sparky back in December, leading the flock in the great escape.  They figured out how to jump up on this pallet and then how to fly over the fence--usually landing on me as I came out the back door.  You can see his red comb and even at 5 weeks, he stands out.

It'a been a really nice day today.  I didn't get ANY work done.  I need to have more days like that.  (feeding the animals doesn't really count as work, it's like feeding a myself or a family member)

Spring!!

The land and sky are most certainly exhibiting signs of Spring.  As a Gemini, heavily influenced by mutable, Mercurial energies, I relate to the variety that Spring has to offer not only in her moods, but in her wardrobe.  She is constantly evolving as she transitions with Nature from Winter to Summer.

You cannot pin her down.  What she offers today, will be completely different tomorrow.  The subtleties in light and temperature.  The constantly changing weather patterns.  The migration of animals.  The appearance of plants as they reawaken, stretching themselves and peering out from under the blanket of their soil beds.

Tonight in honor of burgeoning Spring, I took myself outside and sat on my back porch to watch the sky darken.

If that seems like a strange way to honor Spring, let me just explain what I mean.

My mornings always start with a whoop and a holler.  No matter how sane I want my mornings to be, fate steps in ("steps in what?" you ask...don't get me started...)

Like this morning, for instance, I poured myself the first cup of coffee for the day.  I only wanted 5 or 10 little minutes to wake up, slowly and in my own time.  I no sooner sat down when the peaceful stillness was broken by a resounding crash from the other end of the house.   

I no longer dash to see what latest drama is unfolding...why bother?  What does it change?  I ambled down the hall, and through the house, where upon reaching the room we use for a studio, I discovered the antique glass lamp shattered on the floor, with countless shards of glass spread over the carpet. 

Forty five minutes later, I was just putting the vacuum away, when I realized that the sun was well up, and I was late letting the chickens out.  The later it gets, the higher the risk of facing a very cranky rooster.  So I hustled to feed and water them, and let them out of the hen house...

Every morning is some variation on this same theme.  I can't seem to find a moment to watch the sun rise.  Chaos intervenes every time.

But at the end of the day, as the world turns away from the sun, and the light begins to fade from the sky, I can take a moment to watch that happen.  I can empty my mind of trivial thought and watch the show that Nature is putting on right before my eyes.

So this evening, I began that ritual. It is my nod to Spring.  I took my coffee outside in the evening rather than in the morning, well bundled up of course.

Here is my watching the light fade from the sky ensemble...vintage red plaid wool coat (Thank you Aunt Charlotte.  That coat is very precious), and a brown slouch felt hat given to me by my mother-in-law years ago and my favorite wool finger-less gloves made with love by my dear friend Rebbeckah.

And I watched the sky change and listened to the geese in the distance.  That time of the evening seemed just right to connect with Spring.  I don't even remember hearing any traffic noises.

Thanksgiving

Since we work out of our home, it's hard to take a day off.  Thanksgiving is no exception.  But rather than spend it in overwhelm, I chose to multitask under more pleasant conditions.

At noon, I decided to take my stack of books to be sewn in preparation for binding, outside and work in the sunshine so I could allow the cats outdoors to bask in the sun, while at the same time letting Ruby and her chicks out into the yard to scratch and forage.  Maintaining a human presence as a moderator between species made me feel more secure, although I'm sure Ruby could handle it on her own.  (The cats usually steer clear of her anyway).

The chicks are developing new skills on a daily basis.  Yesterday I noticed they were all taking short flights around the yard, and today, I saw one fly up to the porch.  They also began scratching for themselves today, rather than following Ruby around.  They also took their first dust bath today.

Now I'm indoors with a chicken in the oven (turkey is too big for just the two of us), and putting the final touches on a simple supper.

I'll be covering slip cases after supper and gluing spines, on the freshly sewn books.

I would have taken the day off, but with no company, and family too far away this year, I decided to take the opportunity to get more work done.  I'm racing the clock to get all the Christmas orders filled for Pegana Press customers.

I still feel disappointed over not getting my Autumn zine out.  It was so close to being finished.  It doesn't look like I'll have time to release the Winter edition either.

Potentials

Ruby with chicks (3 days old)

The chicks are just over a week old now.  Their wings have gone from fuzz to fully feathered and they are growing their tail feathers.  They even have their little micro combs along their foreheads.

Two rose buds broke off in the storm we had, right after I posted my last post.  Six rose buds.  Six chicks hatched out.  One didn't live, after hatching out.  Interesting how Nature reflects the world around us.

Ruby with chicks (1 week)

I feel really lucky to have the five.  They're hale and hearty, and growing fast.  Ruby is a dream mama hen.  She is a hybrid (sex link) and I got her from a local organic egg farm, along with 3 other pullets, nearly 18 months ago.  I really wasn't sure if her broody instincts would remain intact due to her lineage, or even if she'd be a good mom.  But she proved herself to be an ace on both counts.

My rooster is a barred rock.  Getting chicks from him, has increased his stock considerably with me.  Before this, I pretty much thought of him as that crazy rooster, that keeps attacking me when ever I go near the hen house.  More a pain in the butt than anything else.  But now, I see him in a whole new light.  And perhaps he senses my new found appreciation for him.  He seems gentler and less inclined to show me his spurs. (Or maybe he's just cold.)

A little over a week ago the potential for 10 hatchlings existed.  Move forward in time, and 5 chicks have joined us in our world.  Now the potential is whether they will grow up to be hens or roosters...or whether they will grow up at all.  I know what I'd like to happen.  I'd like to have 5 more healthy hens, who in turn may become mamas themselves.  But only time will tell.

Welcome to the flock, Peepers.  I'm so glad you're here.

Autumn Leaves

image Autumn Bridge found via google search on Jackee Holder .com

I just looked up from my busy life, to catch a glimpse of Autumn racing past on the wind.  I have done almost nothing this year to mingle with Time as it dons its seasonal garment of falling leaves, damp scents, misty mornings, warm sunny afternoons where the light falls upon the earth from a different point on the horizon, early evenings, and chilled air.

How is it possible to miss metabolizing this? Oh yes, I know what it is.  The illusion that I have a To Do list that will actually get done if I just keep at it. Just a distraction to keep me engaged with busy work. Keeping me busy Doing, rather than Being.

My birthright--my one great talent has always been for being present and Noticing.  Somehow, I have slipped into drowsiness, as I keep my nose to the grindstone, literally focusing on the dust particles of life.  The more I focus, the less I see.

Ducks in a row?  What is that nonsense?  Let them wander.  Let them fly.

Learning To Push The Easy Button

I have long realized that I seem to do everything the hard way.  But recently I became determined to install an Easy Button on my life.

Where does one get an easy button?  All you gotta do is ask.  Which I did.  I asked the powers that be, and now I am noticing a difference.

I am actually making choices right now that save me time and effort.  Choices which are allowing me to be productive.  And I'm learning to ask for help.

There's a difference between asking for help that you really need, and being pressured to accept help that you don't need and I'm learning to distinguish that difference.

There is a specific energy that goes with having an Easy Button.  It is different from the overwhelm, I have been used to experiencing these last two years or so.  It feels like ease and grace.  It feels like tranquility.

I have to say, I'm really enjoying it.  I just hope it comes with a life time warranty.  

Zine-ing

As a self published author, I thought zines would be a good way to get my short stories out more quickly than writing a full length book.  Plus it adds a whole new layer of creativity to the project.  Plus it's fun.

But there is a dark side to this zine making.  Yes.

I am learning about myself while engaged in this work.  When I told my friend Sage I wanted to try my hand making a zine, she responded by saying that I had the hard part out of the way, because I already had written the stories.

Uh, no actually.  For me, the stories are the easy part.  Stories just sort of tell themselves to me.  It's more like they just happen to me.

The cutting and pasting, now that's hard.  Not kidding-really.  The whole multi media art form thing was very daunting to me.  But I'm getting the hang of it.  And it's very freeing.

I was programmed from an early age, not to deface books.  Not to cut them, or mark them up.  To handle them with care.  My text books in university were only barely touched with a highlighter, if at all.  (Do they still have text books at universities?)

And being a book binder by trade, I am in the business of making books.  So it's very difficult for me to take a pair of scissors even to a magazine.

And collage is all about the layers, right?  But one of my other vocations is that I'm an energy worker/healer type, and in that activity it's all about removing the layers.  So I was baffled by the whole process of collage at first.

When I was a kid I used to write stories and draw all the time.  I got so that I could do very detailed pencil sketches with high lights and shading.  But as I grew into a busy adult, the creative me began shrinking.  And things like writing and artwork began to freak me out.  The less I engaged in those practices the more important they seemed to be, and the less capable I felt myself to be.  By the time I was in my late 20s, I was so wound up with anxiety around artwork, that to do a pencil sketch would take me hours, and then I would leave it unfinished.

That set a precedence, which led to a long string of unfinished stories too.  Then I stopped singing and playing music too.  That whole "not good enough" fear factor just spiraled out into every aspect of my creative life.

Now, many years later, I have reconnected with my creative muse.  I am writing and drawing and singing again, only now my drawings are more like cartoons, and doodles and I'm okay with that, because now they are fun and spontaneous and I actually finish them.

I would much rather have a finished creative scribble, than an unfinished master piece.  And this is why.  Because all of the feeling you're trying to convey in that scribble is actually recorded on the paper.  It is in every way like a vinyl record.  So I know that what I'm trying to demonstrate with a sketch or a doodle is going to communicate itself, even if it's not fine art--and that's what I'm after.

Which brings me back around to collage and zine making.  It's a great process for shining some light into the dusty corners of one's psyche.  And it's a very primal way of expressing creativity which takes me right back to being a kid.

Hey, it's my first zine!  I'm gonna put it on my refrigerator, like the rest of the kid art.

Hearth & Heart is available at Pegana Press.  https://www.peganapress.com/zines.html

Embroidering the Fabric of Reality

Have I lost touch with reality?

Oh, most assuredly I have!

It blinks in and out, changes shapes and colors, sights, sounds and smells.

It spins out of control and knocks me off my feet at times.

Actually it isn't possible to lose touch with reality entirely.  We are it and we are in it.  It is only possible to lose touch with someone else's translation of reality.  But we always have a firm footing in our version of what that is, even if it changes from one moment to the next.

So said the writer of today's current version of my reality.

Have I lost touch with reality?

Why do you ask?  Haven't you ever?

Spring!!!!!!!

It is the season of newness and it is the season of crazy, fast growth.  I love all the seasons, and for me Lady Spring is the season of Potential.

Potential to begin something new and different.  Potential to tap into the creative energy of Spring.  It is a stunning morning.  I see the sun is rising through the trees to the east, and the air is still, after the storm.

Yesterday with waning moon in Capricorn, I was determined to plant potatoes.  It's March! Time is fleeting.  The ground has been ready for days, and the potatoes were cut into seed pieces with their little eyes growing like mad, shouting "Plant us!"

But yesterday it was also raining and blustery, and I waited for hours, doing other things, hoping for the sky to clear and the rain to stop and then towards late afternoon, I realized I needed to make a choice.

I decided to go out in the rain and plant potatoes.  I was dressed warmly, and as I was putting my boots on, I remembered other times in my life when I needed the weather to accommodate me, and it did.  So I just decided to ask.

I asked that the storm would subside while I planted potatoes.  I stepped outside and the rain slowed to a light drizzle, and by the time I had my garden fork and trowel in hand, the rain stopped entirely.  There was an actual break in the clouds and the sky brightened as the sun shone through.

I could see a wall of big dark clouds in the distant horizon, and they were coming fast, so I worked fast too.  I tucked the little seed potatoes into their well prepped beds and finished just as the clouds rolled in overhead, hiding the sun.  I straightened up and heard the wind roaring and saw the trees windmilling their branches.  And I laughed.  Their was so much joy in the wildness of the storm all around me, and so much beauty in the synchronous timing of the weather during planting.

I put my tools away, and walked around my place, enjoying the wind in motion and picking up things blown in by the storm.  I took a moment to reinforce the fence in the hen yard, before heading back inside.  I was taking my boots off on the back porch when I looked up to see the rain had started up again.  I laughed once more, and sent out a wave of joyous gratitude to nature and the creative consciousness.  My way of throwing my arms wide to embrace the All.

Catching Up with Life

I have got the Spring Cleaning Bug, big time.  The weather is warming up, there is a freshness in the air, I see honey bees on blossoms, and the birds have stopped raiding the chicken feed.  And though we haven't even reached February yet, I have felt the call to action, and am charging around the house, dust cloth and broom in hand.

Furniture is being moved, whole rooms, in fact...

Here's a photo from a more tranquil time.  ;^)

March 2009 in the Maritime NW

Random Thoughts - Plastic & Fruit

Single use plastic:  Why would you use a non biodegradable material as disposable packaging?

VS. 

An apple comes with it's own delicious edible packaging courtesy of nature.  

Wheel Spinning

I'm an expert.  I can manifest more ways to spin my wheels...

Oh sure, it looks like real business, and anyone will tell you that life happens.  But really???

Every morning dawns bright with pure potential.  16 hours with which to make things happen.  Then "Fate?" intervenes.

This morning as I began a very involved project, I heard my hens literally shrieking for help.  I know their voices.  I know the clucks and cackles that mean "Hey! All the nesting boxes are full!" and the angry squawks that result from being pecked, and all the other sounds that used to bring me running.  But today, I heard a bonafide SOS distress call.  And I dropped everything, and practically tore the door off the hinges.  I may even have plowed through a fence.

Good thing too.  I startled a hawk and he flew into the fence twice, before finally navigating his way out of the yard.  And I saw before my eyes a landscape completely bare of hens.  Where in the world were my girls?

So I ran down to where I saw the hawk lift off from, and saw hen feathers all around.  With a sense of dread, I started calling and hunting along the fence line, and way back in a corner of the fence, where the black berry brambles have grown to cover an old broken chair, I saw four little feathered bums all crammed into a space that seemed impossibly small to harbor four fully grown hens.

I coaxed them out with my usual "chick chick chick", and they gingerly stepped out of the briars.  I looked each one over, and they all clustered around me as we paraded in triumph back to the hen house.  And I praised them for their quick thinking and ability to protect themselves from predators while I fed them a little extra feed, because who wouldn't want to have a little something after cheating death.

Then I began building little shelters all over their yard.  Which of course took time away from the other project that I had abandoned for the defense of my flock.  I finally stopped at six hiding places.  It was a beautiful day and they had a ball investigating all of the new play houses in their yard.

But when I came inside and looked at the clock it was 12:30.  And so it goes.  Yes, I got on with the project I was supposed to be working on, which also took longer than I intended...

But that's another story.

Put On A Happy Face

Sometimes the only thing left to do is put on your smiley face.

Some Random Thoughts

Last night near sunset, I felt the temperature drop like a stone in a pond.  I hustled the hens onto their roost so I could close them in safely for the night, but I could tell they weren't yet ready to be finished with their day.  After all there was still light in the sky.  A lot of scratching and pecking could be done with that last 10 or 15 minutes before nightfall.

But I was cold, and couldn't wait to be indoors.  I could hear them grumbling as I walked back to the house.

I was cutting some Himalayan lakta end papers for the books I will be binding in the next couple of days and I cranked the heat in the room I was working in.  Later when I went outside at around 7 o'clock, I stopped to admire the stars in the clear night sky overhead.  No wonder my hands were still ice cold.

This morning I woke to a world of frost.  And when I went out to the hen house just before sunrise and opened the door, Penny (always the last hen in at night and the first one out in the morning) flew out and gave me a sharp peck in the leg.  I guess hens have long memories.

I found the above photo on a Google search.  It was sent in by reader Chris Smart to The Telegraph in the UK.  I was struck by how closely it resembles my own ground (here in the Puget Sound) just outside my front door.  Frost covered oak and maple leaves.  Brrr.

I had to use this photo because when I went out to take my own, the frost had melted off.  Somehow it hasn't made me feel any warmer.  I think I'll go warm up by washing the breakfast dishes.  Warm soapy water aught to do the trick.

Stay warm.