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Love You Always
1920-2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Zine Complete
I'm excited to announce that Hearth & Heart is finally complete and on sale now.
You may find it on the Pegana Press website by following the link below.
Hearth & Heart
You may find it on the Pegana Press website by following the link below.
Hearth & Heart
 |
| Hearth & Heart vol. 1 2015 Summer Edition |
Monday, May 11, 2015
Hearth & Heart
I am very fortunate to know Sage Adderley of Sweet Candy Distro. I met her a couple of years ago and to my delight, we have become friends.
Until I met Sage, I had never heard of zines. But her passion for them is contagious and now I have embarked on creating my first zine.
Hearth & Heart is a quarterly zine which features short stories (of magical realism?). What is Magical Realism? I just call it life. I can't help it if it reads like fiction. --I hope to have copies ready to sell before the week is out.
I have been taking a squint at my blog, (I had to blow the dust off it first) and I realized I hadn't been posting much since Penny died. Just life happening. It was Sage who reminded me not to neglect my blog.
So here's an update about the hens. When the hawk took my Penny, I was determined that would not happen again. My friends down the road who have chickens gave me a rooster, and he is turning out to be a good protector. In fact at times he engages in protecting the flock from me, which is always an adrenaline rush. It's really my boots that he hates apparently. So we have to work around that.
Chicken drama! Who knew?
Here's 3/4 of my flock. Rocky (the barred rock rooster) is in the foreground. I'm wondering if he will ever stop growing. He's about twice as big as the girls now. I fully expect to wind up with a six foot rooster. Barredzilla!
Working on the zine now. Will post update when it becomes available.
Until I met Sage, I had never heard of zines. But her passion for them is contagious and now I have embarked on creating my first zine.
Hearth & Heart is a quarterly zine which features short stories (of magical realism?). What is Magical Realism? I just call it life. I can't help it if it reads like fiction. --I hope to have copies ready to sell before the week is out.
I have been taking a squint at my blog, (I had to blow the dust off it first) and I realized I hadn't been posting much since Penny died. Just life happening. It was Sage who reminded me not to neglect my blog.
So here's an update about the hens. When the hawk took my Penny, I was determined that would not happen again. My friends down the road who have chickens gave me a rooster, and he is turning out to be a good protector. In fact at times he engages in protecting the flock from me, which is always an adrenaline rush. It's really my boots that he hates apparently. So we have to work around that.
Chicken drama! Who knew?
Here's 3/4 of my flock. Rocky (the barred rock rooster) is in the foreground. I'm wondering if he will ever stop growing. He's about twice as big as the girls now. I fully expect to wind up with a six foot rooster. Barredzilla!
Working on the zine now. Will post update when it becomes available.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Winter Tales/Customer Reviews
Winter
Tales contains three original short stories. I wrote the material for a
fine press limited edition chapbook, released by Pegana Press. Here are
some quotes from emails I received.
On Voice
of Fire:
I Love the concept of music being held within the memory of
the tree. Thank you so much for the beautiful book! I will treasure it for
years to come. Please keep writing! You are damn good at it!!
On Where
the Snow Folk Live:
I've read and re read "Where The Snow Folk Live."
I feel like I have one of those huge and heavy fairytale books
from my childhood. The book with stories that mesmerize. Tales for special
occasions only. Reading your story Is like uncovering a
mystical passage and discovering a book that was hidden in order to preserve
its secrets.
And that is what great storytelling does!!! Bravo
The characters (in addition to the letters) really
add to that story and the look of the page . They Create visual interest
for me.
Thanks
On Cup of
Cheer:
"Cup of Cheer" is my favorite of the three
stories. For me it's like Jack and the Beanstalk and the Snow Queen went on a
road trip and met the Star Trek crew. I love the idea of
the "mixture of cultural anomalies."
Monday, April 6, 2015
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?
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?
Monday, March 16, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Life Goes On
My family is contriving to keep me awake.
I stayed up too late last night working.
After I finally slipped into slumber, my husband woke up. He decided to work in the middle of the night, which usually doesn't wake me, but for some reason I heard every move he made while I was trying to sleep.
Then the crazy cats who used to sleep the night through with their humans, but are now confused decided that if one human is up, the other should be too.
One scratched at the door to get out, one scratched at the door to get in. After getting up a half dozen times in a stupor, I finally gave up and left the door open. Then one stood on my head (the heaviest one, I might add) and one tried to eat my blankets.
Finally I gave up. I could see the sky was getting light and needed to let the hens out. I wondered why my husband was being so quiet. I found him blissfully asleep.
I got dressed and fed the cats. I vowed I would keep waking them throughout the day. Then I went to let the hens out into their yard.
We had finally established a routine, after the big upset last week, when my favorite hen was taken by a hawk. But the trickster was having fun with me, and the easy task of getting my hens into their new better protected yard, turned into a chicken rodeo. I came into the house, panting and wheezing.
It's no good going back to sleep. I have a ton of work to do today. So all I can do is sit here for a few moments with a cup of hot coffee (usually it's tepid, by the time I get around to it) and look at the magnificent sun rising through the trees, casting long shadows and chasing the mist away. Watch the dew sparkle on the grass. And dream of Tuesday, the nearest thing I have to a day off.
I can hear the birds singing. Why shouldn't they sing? It's a beautiful day and they got a full night of sleep.
I've decided I will run away from home. Into my back yard. I have dreams of building a tiny cottage out of pallets and then retreating there for a full night of rest every evening. I wonder if I'll see them through.
Excuse me while I go wake the cats...
I stayed up too late last night working.
After I finally slipped into slumber, my husband woke up. He decided to work in the middle of the night, which usually doesn't wake me, but for some reason I heard every move he made while I was trying to sleep.
Then the crazy cats who used to sleep the night through with their humans, but are now confused decided that if one human is up, the other should be too.
One scratched at the door to get out, one scratched at the door to get in. After getting up a half dozen times in a stupor, I finally gave up and left the door open. Then one stood on my head (the heaviest one, I might add) and one tried to eat my blankets.
Finally I gave up. I could see the sky was getting light and needed to let the hens out. I wondered why my husband was being so quiet. I found him blissfully asleep.
I got dressed and fed the cats. I vowed I would keep waking them throughout the day. Then I went to let the hens out into their yard.
We had finally established a routine, after the big upset last week, when my favorite hen was taken by a hawk. But the trickster was having fun with me, and the easy task of getting my hens into their new better protected yard, turned into a chicken rodeo. I came into the house, panting and wheezing.
It's no good going back to sleep. I have a ton of work to do today. So all I can do is sit here for a few moments with a cup of hot coffee (usually it's tepid, by the time I get around to it) and look at the magnificent sun rising through the trees, casting long shadows and chasing the mist away. Watch the dew sparkle on the grass. And dream of Tuesday, the nearest thing I have to a day off.
I can hear the birds singing. Why shouldn't they sing? It's a beautiful day and they got a full night of sleep.
I've decided I will run away from home. Into my back yard. I have dreams of building a tiny cottage out of pallets and then retreating there for a full night of rest every evening. I wonder if I'll see them through.
Excuse me while I go wake the cats...
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