Happy Leap Year

The Peepers Are Growing Up

I went out to feed the Peepers this afternoon and they clucked at me!

Yessir, the Peepers are growing up.  They've stopped talking baby talk and are using full sentences now.  And at 13 weeks they are almost as big as their mom Ruby.

It's going to be hard to stop calling them The Peepers.  That means they will have to tell me their names, finally.  And since 4 out of 5 of them look too much alike to tell them apart at this stage, it won't be easy to know who's who!  Only Sparky stands out.

Singing to the Land

The wind comes up as the sky darkens.

I can see the moon oriented behind me, over my right shoulder and it hovers over my roof as I sit on my back porch and sing songs to the land.

"...Home, be the temple of my heart.  Home, be the body of my love.  Just like Holy Water to my lips..."

I am bundled in layer upon layer of wool against the icy breeze.  It feels like a tonic to my face, which remains exposed.

I see lights in the sky.  An airplane silently races by, flying low on the horizon far in the distance.

The wind rustles the bare cascading branches of willow and birch and the rhododendron next to me.

"...Coming to the earth.  Singing to the stars.  Change we must to live again.  Coming to the earth to the moon.  Coming to the sky to the earth.  Change we must to live again..."

Esmerelda joins me on my lap and looks out at the world from the folds of my cloak.  She purrs her song.

"...We will witness a song, we will sing.  We belong to the world.  Our Mother so divine.  We live again.  This is here, this is now, this is love that surrounds.  Change we must, change we must to live again..."

A night bird flies past.

"...Take the water to the mountain.  Cross the great divide of love.  Give to nature all you can be.  Let the Mother know your heart.  Take the water to the mountain.  Let's become alive again.  Holy water, Holy mountain.  Holy river.  Holy tree."

The chimes ring in the night, as a flurry of wind stirs them.

I do this almost every night now.  There is no greater medicine right now for me than this.

Peace.





Song lyrics by Jon Anderson

Sunshine and More Sunshine

It's a beautiful day in the South Puget Sound neck of the woods today.  Zöe and Esmerelda are both outside enjoying the sun, and I'm glad to have them with their paws in contact with the earth after such a long time indoors.  Zöe really hasn't been outdoors much since she was mysteriously attacked and not at all since the Peepers hatched out.

Esmerelda has spent the winter inside as well.  She's been suffering from a sensitivity which has had her chewing all of her fur off.  But now it is growing back and it's a relief to let her outdoors.

Buddy simply won't go there right now.  If he can see chickens through the fence, he wants nothing to do with the yard.

I'm planning on moving the flock soon, so the cats can have their whole yard back again.  I have plenty of space to make this happen, I just need more fencing.  And I need to make that happen.

Right now I've just finished prepping some more books to be bound.  I'll be working on the case bindings this after noon.  Hopefully they'll be ready to bind in tomorrow.  And then I can let them sit for a couple of weeks.

I'd love to get time to do some writing or even to just finish my zines.  I'm going to focus on making that happen too.  Also I'm eager to finish my painting.  The next step will be to add some more detail.  I'm hoping to get it finished off this month.  I have way too many things going on at the same time, and if I can get them off the to do list, I'll be much happier.

Esmerelda had a session with BodyTalk-er Sid Snider last week.  I wasn't finding time to do a session myself, and I didn't want to wait any longer.  Besides, sometimes it's better to have someone else work on family members.  It was such a relief, and Esmerelda is getting better and better.  She is back to being her ol' naughty self again.

All of my cat friends are different.  Buddy is very much like a dog in a cat suit.  Zöe is like an ancient spiritual master, and Esmerelda is fun, Fun, FUN.  She is never having more fun than when she is getting into something she knows I don't want her to be into.  If I open up a drawer or a closet and try to slip something in without any interference, she has the ability to wake from a sound sleep at the other end of the house, and be inside before I can close said drawer, closet or cupboard.  But if I invite her into one of those spaces, she wants no part of it.  What's the fun in being somewhere you're supposed to be.  This also applies to the kitchen.

If there is any food left out, she'll find it.  She will attack anything that has come into contact with food.  I've seen the remnants of her handy work--plates licked so clean they look like they've been washed, baked potatoes with only the paper thin layer of skin left.  I've seen her yank the carcass of a chicken breast out of a stock pot when it was just off the boil, and send it sailing through the air to land on the floor below.  Turn your back for a second and she seizes her opportunity.

She is pure alley cat dressed in haute coture.  Then when she lost her beautiful coat, I felt so bad for her, because I knew she had to be pretty miserable to chew most of her long fur down to the skin.

After her session, she started to get better, really fast.  I could feel her skin re-hydrating under my fingertips during the session, and her fur began to grow back right away as her skin began healing.  She was feeling so good, she of course had to start getting into things.  So a couple of days later, I found a half stick of butter on the floor, half eaten.  Of course, I knew who the culprit was.  And so I had an uneasy couple of days while that went through her system and it wasn't pretty.

But now she's back to normal.  And I kicked her out doors.  She's curled up right now on my wool cloak, in a chair on the back porch in the sunshine.

My kitchen has to remain spotless.  It's the only way to notice, if any food has been accidentally left out.  Or any plates with any sauce or food bits which might play havoc with her digestion.  I have a lock down can in my kitchen for compost, and am constantly policing the vicinity for anything that she might get into.

Literally, the other day, I was preparing some vanilla butter cream icing, and turned around to get a utensil, and turned back to find her head in the bowl.  I swear sometimes I think she'll give me a stroke.  It would be funny, if sugar wasn't toxic to cats.  But I tell you, she seems to get the biggest kick in the world out of trying to outwit me, and beat me to the draw.

So now for the flock...The Peepers are getting huge, They are about 12 weeks old, and everything has changed for the flock now.  Rocky has gotten more mellow.  He seems really proud and happy to have more chickens to protect.  Fannie who has been my non layer, has taken a real interest in them and acts like they're her offspring, which has taken some pressure off of Ruby, and allowed her a smoother transition back into the flock.  I can't wait until the Peepers are old enough to lay eggs.  It looks like we only have one cockerel in the batch, and so far that's working out with Rocky.  The cockerel is the only one of the Peepers that has a name so far.  Mike named him Sparky.

And now, some lunch and back to work.


Oh and by the way...
This is what butter looks like when it's been rolled around on the floor and chewed by a cat...Oh well, into the compost.

I'm just surprised she didn't eat it all.  I guess since there was no one to disapprove, she lost interest.

Painting Update

I did a little more work on the painting I started in December.

Here's a link to my on line painting journal.  In Blessed Mother's House

And here is a photo comparison of the work I did on December 12th, and the work I did on Wednesday February 3rd.

Wednesday was glazing day.  hee hee.

comparison before glazing on the left, and after glazing on the right.

I also learned how to get paint off of car upholstery.

I used rubbing alcohol and it came right out, even 24 hours later.

;^) 






Now after glazing, she appears much more to be La Morena.

#gettingcloser

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.

Happy Birthday to Mike

Proof that I made Mike a Birthday cake.  A Butterscotch Sundae cake from an old Betty Crocker cookbook.  It's taller than it looks.  This picture was taken before I drizzled butterscotch all over the top.  Perhaps the best frosting I've ever made.  (Maybe not...maybe it's just been so long since I've baked that it seems like the best).  But how can you go wrong with butter, powdered sugar, cocoa and cream.

Yes today was Mike's Birthday, and I went on a quest to find him a birthday present.  I went to seven places to find one book.  I could have ordered it on Amazon, but I only thought of it yesterday.  You know, I really love the ease of shopping on line, but I hate what it's done to the local economy.

While I was on my search this morning I went to Barnes & Nobel (no luck there--again, why should they stock a book that was written over a decade ago, when they can sell it on line), then I tried Walden's bookstore, only to find they were no more (I hadn't heard...) Then I tried Lassley's paper back exchange on the west side.  The sign was still up, but the building was empty with a for lease sign on the door.  

So much for the west side.

I headed down town.  No luck there either.  Not at Browser's and not at Orca books.  

Who Done It books is now only a memory.  When did it go?  Poof! Just like that.

I was beginning to regret having such a brilliant idea too late to order on line.  

I had wanted to get Mike a book that was number 6 in a series of 20 books.  We had the complete series before he decided to give that book to his dad a few years back.  Then last summer, he started reading that series again, only to find we were missing a book.  What a disappointment...and so he stopped.

I thought, "What a great gift!  By buying this one book, I'm really giving him an entire series back."  I just didn't know how hard it would be to find that one book or how hard it would be to even find a bookstore in this town.  They seem to be dwindling.

But I pressed on, and finally at the last place I had left to try, Lassley's paperback exchange in Lacey, was still in business, and there it was.  One shining copy.

Okay, not a shining copy.  It's a paperback exchange, so we're talking about books that have been read over and over.  But somehow, the quest made giving Mike that book all the sweeter, because it wasn't easy.  I wasn't sure I would find it and it seemed to make the ragged paper back more of a prize.

So I brought it home and wrapped it in a remnant piece of soft green plaid flannel fabric tied with twine (because I thought it was pretty) and handed it to him with a home made card.  Then we had coffee and laughed together while he opened his other cards and gifts from family.  And he was really excited about the book.  He started reading it later in the afternoon, and he's already a quarter the way through it...and remember it's not just one book...now it is 15 books, because he can finish the series.

Then I took him to lunch at Vic's pizza.  And when we came home, while he read his book with a cat on his lap, I made him a birthday cake.  He though he was in heaven.

I came of age in an era of materialism unprecedented in our culture.  And even though we used to make more money than we're making now, I always felt poor.  Somehow that has changed for me.

The more I step outside of what is normal and safe, the richer I feel.  Today, going on a quest for a Birthday present felt magical.  Would I find what I sought?  Would I win the day?

And Mike feels blessed because I baked.  Something I used to do often, but in these days when every moment is filled with earning a living or keeping up with household work,  baking is the last thing I have time for.  So now a cake becomes a magical and rare treat.  And that is how it should be.

What I'm really trying to say, in a long and rambling way is that all those things we once took for granted had lost their magic.  They had lost their zest.  But now  that we live a completely different lifestyle, where we work only for ourselves, we have come to appreciate the crafting of a moment into something more beautiful, and more magical.  A moment to be cherished and savored.  

Update on The Peepers

The Peepers have now become part of the flock.  The internet is a strange and wondrous source of all sorts of information, which is subject to the perception of whoever is sharing that information.  I had read that you should wait to introduce chicks into the flock until they were 16 weeks old.  My friend who runs a chicken farm disagreed.  Her opinion is --the sooner, the better.

The last two days, I had observed Ruby pecking at the chicks and apparently wanting to get back to the flock.  I could see she was torn.  She wanted to be with the others, but she wanted to take the chicks with her.  Having read "expert" advice on the internet, I was hesitant to introduce the Peepers to the flock.  But by just observing the behavior of the chickens, it felt like it was time.  So I asked my friend with the chicken farm.  She seemed to think it was long overdue.

Yesterday I put them in with the flock and cut a little exit in the fence so they could escape back into their yard if they needed to.  They were mostly just ignored, which was kind of a relief.  But they also didn't want to stay with the flock.  They wanted to be "home".  Their home.  So today, I put them in with the flock and blocked the fence.  They were distressed at first, but adapted.

Tonight when I put them all into the hen house they cried and cried.  Not the cozy peeps that I'm used to hearing at night, when they are still settling down after their busy day, but stressed out chick cries.

I went back inside my house and thought they would settle down, but when I went out 10 minutes later, I could still hear stressed chick noises coming from inside.  So I did a little energy work from just outside, and within less than a minute, I heard the little peeps trail off and it got very quiet.

I'm so ready for this to work.  I had a talk with Rocky this afternoon, and told him the Peepers were his responsibility now.  They are part of his flock and he has to keep them safe from hawks.  I told the Peepers they need to stay close to the flock and not wander aimlessly in the open.  

They had figured out their own yard, especially after several close calls with the hawks.  Their reactions were impeccable (no pun intended) on their home turf.  But watching them today made me apprehensive.  There is some open ground in that part of the yard, and they were mostly wandering around like lost children out in the open, while the full grown hens and Rocky were under cover a distance away.

Things were unsettled today, I'm sure they'll get the hang of it.  I just don't want to lose any.  I love my Peepers...no doubt about it.  But from a practical point of view, I also need all the egg layers I can get.

Mike asked me the other day, how many chickens I was planning on raising.  Here's my feeling.  I only have so much land, and it's not a lot, and I don't want to go into chicken farming.  But I want egg layers, and I want chickens working the land, which they do so brilliantly.

I started out with 4 hens in the beginning.  When my best egg layer was killed by a hawk, I was not only heart broken, but it upset everything with the remaining flock.  Ruby has been the only consistent layer since then.  I brought in Rocky to protect the flock...it was just a bonus that I got chicks out of it.

With only one hen laying eggs, I welcomed the chance to increase the flock.  And now that they're here, another one of the hens is finally laying eggs.  And I'm letting her keep them in the hopes that she'll get broody.  There are 9 eggs right now, so I'm hopeful.  And if she doesn't get broody, maybe one of the others will.  Ruby hasn't started laying eggs yet, so maybe she'll do it.  But the point is, the more chicks I have, the better my chance of getting egg layers and I'd like to have 6 productive hens.  I potentially have that right now.  But that's only if Ruby starts laying again and the other hen keeps laying, and four of the Peepers grow up to be egg layers...and only if no one else gets killed by predators.  So as I explained to Mike, if I can get another clutch of eggs hatched (the natural way--I don't do incubators), than I will be very happy.

My friend with the chicken farm was wondering when I was going to butcher the non producers.  I get the feeling she thinks that I'm being weak and maybe a bit sentimental.  But here's what motivates me, and it might not make sense to someone who doesn't work with energies like I do regularly, but I'll try to explain anyway.

In a very small flock, such as mine is, it takes very little to upset the balance.  One hen getting killed by a hawk didn't reduce my egg production by 1/4.  It impacted egg production by 75%.  My four hens were laying 2 dozen eggs a week.  Then I lost Penny, and two of the remaining hens stopped laying eggs, so now I was getting 6 eggs a week.  And let me just add, that my hens were all young and had only been laying for 3 or 4 months when this happened.  In the language of energy matrices, the matrix had been disrupted.

Add to the mix an aggressive rooster, and it has taken a year to recover from that one death in the flock.  It's literally taken that long for things to start to run smoothly again.  If I had taken out my two non producers, then the flock would take even longer to recover.  And now one of those two is actually laying eggs again - finally - and I'm not 100% certain which one is the layer.  So I guess I'm not in any hurry to start culling.

I love my flock.  Not because I think of them as pets.  I love them because they are members of my family now.  I love them because they teach me, and they give me food, or have given me food in the past, or will give me food in the future.  And in return, I give them food.  They work my land.  I give them shelter.  We are learning to communicate with each other, and that is really something.  This is who I am.  I'm not a farmer.  I love farmers, some of my friends are farmers and some of my family are but I'm not one and I'm not trying to be one.

I'm a kooky person who does a lot of different things to get by.  That's all.