Posts Tagged ‘never ending wonder’

saved by a tomato

Indeed, Gentle Reader, yes.  This morning I woke up and felt like a squeezed out tube of something.  Like a car up on the rack completely drained of fluid.  The Partner noticed this as I remained unresponsive when the blessed elixir    the coffee cup was placed before me.  He then, without saying much, placed tomatoes from the garden (picked a day or so ago) in my hands.  The effect was remarkable.  Suddenly I felt as though a living thing was breathing its heart into me and just like that, I came to.  Noticed the coffee and everything.

It was quite extraordinary, even if I did realize that since on some level this is what I do for other people in a way (here, drink this! put this on your forehead! hold this rock!)  it only made sense and of course it works.  My goodness.   The impact of things themselves is something often overlooked in today’s world, I think.  It is also true that most of the food people eat now is really totally dead.  You pick it up and feel? Nothing.   These tomatoes, though, practically sang in my palms.   It made me wonder if really, help is at hand for this world and it’s simpler than we might think. I mean: reconnect directly with the real world- the world that has animals and food and actual people you talk to in it.  The rest begins to take care of itself in that dance of time you recognize after it is over.

Lately I’ve been having conversations with people where they’ll say how awful they feel right now, how alienated and empty.  Then they’ll look at me and say things like, well, but you don’t feel this! (To which I respond with a strangled cry, of course.)  You like to cook! You ENJOY those things.  Like gardening.   I’m not interested in any of that, they’ll say.   I don’t want a spiritual grounding.  But I spend too much time on Facebook.  Well, I say.  Interesting.  You cut yourself off from everything that actually keeps you alive and then wonder why you feel so bad.  Since we do have to eat, shouldn’t we pay attention to that?  A spiritual grounding is not a confining religious program of doctrine.  It’s simply the ability to breathe in and realize you are part of a huge, humming entity and the longer you keep your heart and eyes closed to that, the more you suffer.  The sooner you realize you truly can breathe in this medium, the sooner you begin to actually live.  Marx wrote that people do things by hand, make things from scratch as it were, as an antidote to alienation.  There is something to that.  The time you spend learning to make bread or knit or build a cabinet is profoundly helpful and empowering.  You learn how to be at home with yourself and the earth and the record of your progress is right there to see, in a garden or scarf or cement counter or bicycle or engine or whatever it might be.  We’ve been bamboozled a bit, I think, by “technology”.   It’s kind of the same thing as being told in grammar school that you “can’t do math”.  We now seemingly all think that not only do we not need to do things like cook our own food or read a map because some technology can do it faster- we think, really, that we are not able to do these things. It’s “too much work”.   It is true as well that on some level the technology is smarter than we are.  It speaks a totally different language which takes a different sort of brain to understand and utilize properly.  There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that, either.  It’s just that it should be another piece of the whole, and not a full frontal black and white operation, from which, given the politics of the world, many are excluded off the top.  It shouldn’t be a choice between spending hours liking things online or paying attention to real needs.  It’s just that paying attention to real needs generally means feeling what you are actually feeling.  That, of course, is what our culture is optimized to have you avoid.  Boy, oh boy.  Sleepers awake.

But there was also something this week that made me laugh so hard I just knew things are moving along as they should, somehow.  Dashing to the post office, as I got to the end of our gravel pit aka dirt road, what did I see but a passel of small pink pigs.  One velvety tiny brown one. The most adorable looking little cuties ever.  This, of course, was nothing like what I expected to see on that hiccup of a bridge and it took me a minute to adjust the gyroscope, stop the car, and realize these were probably our friend’s pigs out for an unauthorized stroll and not the usual wild pigs who would’ve  been chewing the car bumper by that time.  His animals often get out and they all have the same charming, frank but devious demeanor of a kid in a candy store.  We can be out here! yes! What?! Carry on!! We’re busy!!  As I sat there one small pig got so excited in telling the story that it toppled over onto its side.  Quickly scrambling up, just a bit muddier for the wear, and continuing the exciting pig escape story,  I looked at them all and just thought: Life is beautiful.  When I got to the fire station, which is the first place the cel phone works, I called home, The Partner called our friend, pigs were brought back into the fold, and all was well, once again, in the now.  As, weirdly, it is.  No matter how it seems.

surviving Beltane

We did, actually.  I rendered duck fat and made yogurt and more rellenos to keep my mind occupied, and the hill behind us did not erupt in flame.  Because why?  BECAUSE the neighbor who could see said fire bellowed out words to the effect of, are you nuts? put that thing out NOW.  It made us feel a bit less alone, and ended the potential for conflagration catastrophe this time round.  Sheesh, Gentle Reader.

Anyway it kind of dovetailed into the workings of my mind (which according to a quiz I just took, is creative, I don’t even have to TRY to be strange and eccentric, and my favorite: “as far as you’re concerned, there IS no box”- to think outside of, that is.).  This whole Beltane thing, for example.  In the historic sweep and genocidal range of the Abrahamic religions’ paths, pagans got snuffed all over the place.  Today, it seems still that many who attach themselves to a…can we call it?…pagan paradigm, are functioning in a place of opposition to Abrahamic/Christian doctrine more than they are from a place of actual spirit rooted awareness.   It’s kind of like how “science” has dominated thinking the way “religion” used to- all in a true spirit of duality, there’s only black and white and one of them is wrong.  If someone doesn’t like how things are going- say Exxon and the issue of global warming? or Cargill and the issue of GMOs and organic food?- they simply employ “scientists” to write their views as something proven by research.  This research, if conducted at all, is not done with a focus on enquiry- it is done with a focus on maintaining the status quo.   Some of what passes for “pagan” is kind of like this- a striving for a position of authority.  Of power. But really, it is a jockeying for position, not enlightenment.  SOME, remember.  Not all.

Well then.  One thing is clear if you look at all.  Power chooses you, you don’t choose Power.  You can prepare for it, perhaps, but you don’t call the shots about if it’ll show up or not.  We are in a world where supposed rationality supposedly prevails.   And yet we also know, if we’re looking, that intuition is a strong force in the world, and it is real.  There is a knowing that happens when a person becomes quiet, opens their mind, and waits for the right question.   This is quite different than following the more usual cacophonous mind direction of current authority, although one doesn’t necessarily and completely preclude the other.  Intuition is  a faculty that has fallen into a bit of ill repute and disuse during the past couple of thousand years of a unitary system that divides things into “yes” and “no”.  Yes and No being defined by the unitary system and not necessarily being true, or even actually replicable and provable by its own methodology.  The fact that things are required to be proven by this methodology, which even its makers know is flawed, is what holds many things back from coming into being.  As long as the field of opposites rules, as in Abrahamics vs. Pagans, Red vs. Blue, “science” vs. “intuition” or “unverifiable thing”, we’re going to be stuck in this current vortex.   This vortex is really powered by our resistance to take the right action, and continuing to choose appearance over reality.

I’ve been reading THE MOMENT OF ASTROLOGY by Geoffrey Cornelius, and before you go, oh! bosh and tosh!  wait a second.  Mr. Cornelius writes about how astrology has been derided for several hundred years because, essentially, it is seen to be non-scientific.  (This push for scientific proof became a bit of a corollary to Authority over time and replaced to an extent the Church as arbiter of truth- even if it IS often questionable science). In any event, astrological analysis can’t be “proven” or  “disproven” either, and research shows, on some level, it can’t really be researched in a system that doesn’t allow all variables to be included.  Modern physics and real science are moving into a place where more of the actual variables are insisting they be taken seriously as a picture of a whole and not a source of ultimately political control, and all the things that mystics and…er….strange eccentrics…have been saying actually turn out to be true.  Everything IS energy and it all moves and interrelates.  Anyway, in terms of analysis of, say, a horoscope, it appears that above and beyond the body of knowledge used for interpretation, intuition is a factor that really counts when you want to know something.   The same thing is true for doctors and healers and problem solvers of any ilk.  Without intuition, the patient’s issues often go unseen and unresolved because the practitioner is only looking at a part of what they think.   Intuition allows you to take what you think into account along with everything else that is actually there, and ask a proper question.   When you ask a proper question, you aren’t lead astray by what someone else thinks or what your lurking opinion may be.  It gets the fluff out of the way.  But it is scary, because you have to actually look at what you see.  This part is, I think, largely frightening because of our acculturation- for the most part dwellers in this world are not encouraged to look at the REALLY big picture- which makes stepping off the curb of the regular into the traffic of the unknown a challenge. In some way though, isn’t that very exploration what science is all about?  Personally I don’t see intuition and science being opposed.

Anyway, it is this asking of the proper question that is the crux, to my mind.  As long as you accept any doctrine as actual truth without thinking it through and looking for the patterns and shifts, you are dancing to someone else’s made up tune.    I think using intuition may lead to things like personal realization, independence and true inter-dependence on the right things.   It sets one apart, though, because for now we are still seemingly in a place where external authority, however fake and self-oriented, prevails.  So we can jump over Beltane fires without really understanding what the symbolism is, what it requires of us, or anything in truth.  And we can then think we’ve “done something”.    We can go to a doctor who will look at us, tell us whatever we’ve got is either in our heads or not happening or is something else that it isn’t, give us some pharmaceuticals and send us on our way, thinking they’ve “done something”.   Externals and artifices are no substitute for the real thing, part of the finding of which involves surrendering to something beyond our own thought process.

One of my Jin Shin Jyutsu instructors said, at the beginning of  class, that you “can’t know it, you can only be it.”  This happened to be my first class and to say I was overwhelmed would be a major understatement.  These words put it all in perspective for me though- it really isn’t about what you think you know or what you call yourself or what you say. It’s about what you DO and who you actually are.  Life itself comes with a built in guidance system after all- it may have been relegated to the back of the closet what with all the progress we’ve made as a civilization (that is a joke, yes) but as more and more people turn away from what they’re told reality is, toward what they can actually feel and experience and sense it to be, I bet we’ll see what seem like miracles.

In other news, the cucumbers came up, as did some melons.  We still have rabbit detente.  All’s at least partly right with our world.  And, thank you all!  I am grateful for your reading.

The Deer Bar

We use an evaporative (swamp) cooler to stay alive during the hot months, like most people here.  It rests on some sawhorses outside one of the yurt’s windows, and when the water going through it reaches the overflow level there’s a lovely small pool of water in the rocks underneath it, with succulent little green things like dandelions and crane’s bill growing up luxuriantly.  This is the new watering hole for the deer family who’ve decided to stay right next to us.  There’s a mom (whose ribs show and there MAY even be a bit of gray around the ears..), a baby, and a year old male.  They come and leave hoof prints from where they’ve eaten and had water without ever making a sound.   I’ve been watching them lately and I really wonder, for example, what they call each other and how they talk.  The baby (just now losing spots) has reached the developmental stage where he feels like a Big Deer, and thus wanders off.  Probably contributing to his mom’s gray ears, since she has to constantly hunt and find out where he is.  One day he was standing in the upper horse pasture when his mom spotted him from lower down and all of a sudden that fawn looked like he’d been electrocuted, jumping literally three feet high in the air.  Quickly composing himself back into Big Deer, he continued to hum lalala and ignore his mother.  Not a smart move.  She clearly re-emitted the electrifying utterance, something along the lines of GETDOWNHERETHISMINUTEDOYOUHEREME?NOW.  And, of course, he did.  There’s comfort in a way in knowing that we really are pretty much all the same, us, deer, trees, everything.

I suppose it is that sense of connection in a way that lends magic to things- they unfold before you and it is dazzling every time that rose blooms or a child laughs  or you get a difficult state of mind resolved.  I was talking to one of my oldest and closest friends recently, who remarked that although life IS beautiful, he didn’t really see the magic. I responded that often it seemed the reverse for me.

For some reason I woke up today thinking about one of the many times the two of us hitchhiked up the California coast to the bay area, back in the dim, distant past of The Day When We Were In College.  We were hitching to San Francisco from Oakland at one point and got picked up by a man who said he was a Scientific Boxer.  It was a truly amazing experience, involving as it did a simultaneous boxing demo with steering wheel, and multiple vehicle crash in the middle of the bridge.  Having earlier in the same trip narrowly avoided imminent death on another corner, when the wreck happened we counted our blessings, got out of the car  and bid adieu to our boxing friend.  We walked into the City, which was a bit of a distance since we were in the middle span of the bridge.  It was a sparkling day with crisp air and the deep blue of the ocean out beyond only seemed to intensify the glittering movement of the waves far below us.   There was magic in all that beauty there, and in our safe passage, for sure, and while the clarity of the memory surprises me, I’m pretty sure it is just one more part of that big puzzle being worked on now in my head.  Still, I’m pretty sure of at least one thing, now that I can’t avoid admitting being Mostly Grown Up.  I definitely believe in magic, and all those pieces of it we see in the course of our lives are part of a huge tapestry, a palimpsest, a portrait.   That picture is what shines through for us over time, guiding us when we think we’re in the dark- but we never really are without some light to guide us.  And that right there is the real magic.

 

Forest? Trees? Gratitude

It seems I’ve decided to save the world in my nightgown today since I’m still padding around in it.  Yesterday’s swirl of thoughts and synchronicity has left me temporarily beached; and there is still the day’s work to do around the yurt.

I thought about so much stuff yesterday I gave myself a headache.  In a good way for a change- just too much information blitzing through the synapses.  (We also discovered the hard way that neither the Partner nor I can stand anchovies, in the radical spirit of experimentation yesterday had.  For the first time ever I made something for dinner, containing the aforementioned ingredient, and neither one of us could eat it.  Live and learn, Gentle Reader.  Live and learn. )  We’re meanwhile working on some new offerings for the website, which are going to need some cogent explanation,  and in the process of thinking about how to do that, and about modern physics, and about how really overall a spirit of neutrality or non-attachment to outcome is crucial to developing understanding of almost anything- apparently the small but active mind of this bear got whipped into a froth which precipitated an unpleasantness that resolved into some important understanding.

I woke up from a dream this morning in full possession of a massive headache and an anxiety attack.  The dream, you may infer, was quite frightening but once I got over the physical reaction to it, pain and nausea, it led me to quite a fantastic revelation.  Seeing in the mind’s eye a string of events that seemed unrelated to the dream material I understood at last how it all fit together- the events in the dream and the real events the memory put forth to go along with it.  It made me think about the fear people live with, how it is fomented culturally to a large extent, and how one can rise above it instead of being crippled.  We have our histories with us like a gigantic set of luggage.  It can be hard to piece things together from this Historical Set of Things, especially when we have a theory or position we’re attempting to maintain.  Sometimes a suitcase pops open and stuff empties out seemingly willy-nilly, and we wonder why in the heck we brought THAT with us.  Then, perhaps THAT shifts into something else and we may wonder about that thing too.   Memory and reflection can haunt us or help us with this sorting task, getting rid of stuff that really belongs to someone else, for example.  Naturally we often don’t know we’re lugging someone else’s baggage around with us, but when we do realize that?  The liberation that comes of it is like being covered in light.   A completely different feeling than that of being covered in suffocating yuck that can accompany such suitcase-openings when all we actually do is attempt to cram everything back in and shut it away.  We might ask ourselves why we end up carrying all this crap around and really there may be no answer except that we put it down when it is time.  In my case, and in this dream, it was being able to finally recognize the seed of the negative that was planted so long ago, and which I internalized (as humans do! such fun we have!) as something that had actually to do with ME and was a tangible part thereof.  When in fact it was really about the person who planted it- and however damaging this seed was to me over time, they were only doing what their own luggage was prompting them to do.  Not to excuse bad behavior, but until we understand things they have often got more control over us than they should. Anyway, today things lined up in the sky and I saw my world in a new light.  It also made me think about a friend who has a Situation with which she deals in total brave honesty, and truly not in fear.  If she can do that, I thought, I can also put this….this suitcase I never bought….down.  It was peculiarly like a rebirth, because it also had to do with facing death in all its many guises.

These rebirths, if we may call them so, are what happen each time we can release our attachment to how we think things are and see them as they actually are.  It’s the process of becoming alive, being human, being ourselves.  They can be small or large, fun or earthshaking.  We always have what we need- we’re just not always able to recognize that because of fear and resistance.  It really is, though, a constant process of motion, and light, and change.  So even if a bit flattened, today I feel so incredibly lucky and grateful.  Maybe I’ll even get dressed!  Or not.  But one thing is for sure:  there will be no anchovies in this picture!

Je Ne Sais Quoi

Julia Child used to say that about ingredients in recipes, so dashingly, that they’d give a particular dish a je ne sais quois.  It might have been tarragon in something but of course I don’t remember exactly.  I did think yesterday though that bliss might be having all Julia’s tv shows on DVD and us having a..modern tv? Perhaps mounted on the bookcase that constitutes our bedroom wall (Partner’s idea of course) and then when I have those moments when I want to End It All, I could retreat to a parliamentary splendor amidst pillows and watch Julia, who has always had a wonderfully bucking up effect on me.

Meanwhile although the large picture appears ongoingly with startling non-clarity the actual daily stuff seems to contain ever more nuggets of wonder.  I got hugged and bowed to in the post office! Holy smokes.  Anyway what with The Partner still being down with the virus, plants needing to be protected from frost, big upcoming work thing next weekend and all sorts of other stuff (such as actually learning how to keep a wood stove going overnight, for example) I find myself a bit wordless this evening, while making chicken soup, expect to say that, actually? I think magic IS afoot.

Another Day

This morning I heard our car door slam very early.  We’re also having 35-40 mile an hour winds right now so all in all, a bit of sound and fury.

By the time I padded to the door, I saw our neighbor’s car racing down the driveway, and had an interesting few moments noticing how my mind went immediately to OMG WHATSWRONG.  I managed to wrestle that old pattern to the ground- after all, you always get the bad news so there’s no need to worry about that.  It’s interesting how our old conditioning just leaps up whether we want it to or not, but I guess that’s what makes life a continuing learning experience.  (Oh, GOODY.)

Anyway, shortly thereafter the phone rang, and it was our neighbor, telling me she’d left something on our front car seat, and also reassuring us that it hadn’t been a member of one of the numerous law enforcement agencies that find this area of interest zipping up to the yurt at the crack of dawn.  I thanked her, said I reckoned they’d continue using helicopters as they do every day; we discussed Thanksgiving plans (as in what to bring as we’re spending it with them this year) and I spelled Tuaca for her.  Then I went out to the car.

Sitting on the front seat was a small plate with the cutest donuts I’ve ever seen.  A smiling ghost and a pumpkin.  What a great way to start a day.  I hope the rest of it goes as well!

Thought For The Day

Trying to stay in balance with it all, Gentle Reader, just trying to stay in balance what with everything swirling around, and as usual  wondering exactly what people are thinking.  Like the couple in front of me in the grocery store last evening.  They managed, between the two of them, to take up an entire grocery store aisle, lollygagging down the middle so there wasn’t enough room on either side to pass them.  They did this after pasting a poor woman who had the misfortune to be coming out into the main aisle as this duo were marching up the milk aisle, from whence she exited. They expected her to apologize as she reeled off clutching her midriff.   So these two.  Such kidders!  I finally made my way to the section of the milk I needed after creeping along for a few minutes, but had to wait for them to move to be able to open the door.  The man turned around and looked at me in that supposedly steely, disarming way people suffering from deeply poor (and in this case? well deserved) poor self image sometimes affect, and said to me in a slightly police officerish way- ARE YOU IN A HURRY?  Mercy, NO, I said.  How sweet of you to worry! Just trying to get to the milk.  SOMETIME TODAY.  He turned red, noticed that another man in the aisle (superbly and extensively tattooed) was looking at him as if to say, Man, You are a total idiot!, and trundled off with his equally charming female companion.  So, this seems to me to be a sort of macrocosm in microcosm.  Mr. Tattoo remarked as they strolled off that he felt such individuals did this sort of thing actually ON PURPOSE.  I said I probably agreed but couldn’t really go there else I’d be snatching idiots right and left and mooshing their heads into my shopping cart.  He found this hilarious.  Perhaps it was because I weas wearing my t-shirt with the Virgin of Guadelupe on it.  Meanwhile,  I’m not even going to mention Goldman Sachs.  Did you know they actually set wagers/bets/probably investment opportunities!  on whether or not there’d be an oil rig blow out in the Gulf? Some G/S employee apparently said words to the effect, if not exactly, “Suck it up, birdies and fishies.”

But, without further ado and nonetheless, the thought for the day, actually and in fact said by Albert Einstein:

“The important thing is not to stop questioning.  Curiosity has its own reason for existing.  One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality.  It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day.”

We continue to put our attention to that.

My Goodness

I learned something today, just now.  NOAA’s weather forecasts differentiate between “sunny”, which has a picture of a blue sky, and “hot” which has an orange one.  Never happy to see “hot”.  But the marker point is 95 degrees.  So, anything over 95 is officially HOT, which I for one am glad to know.  When it’s just 89, for example, and we’re dragging ourselves around, we can now sternly say it isn’t HOT it’s just SUNNY.

I think the feeling of ever growing dread is making the rounds (given what I read today), and after this morning’s titanic struggle to sit up straight In Spite of It All, I gave myself permission to do nothing.  Not that there isn’t lots to do of course, but.   Samuel Beckett apparently said that writing is a sin against speechlessness, even his spare sort of communication.  Speechlessness might be good if it were inner as well as outer.  The mind keeps going on and on and on like some awful pink rabbit on TV even when you yourself are immobilized by external circumstances.  It feels as though things must be described, no matter what.  Perhaps vertiginous times such as these do require witness, so that we don’t forget that something really is happening, we do know what it is, but we don’t know what to do about it.   Maybe writing is a way of showing up, and that may just be a start.

Still, one more sales pitch and I’m going ballistic, showing up or not.  Political solicitations (STOP USING THE WORD ‘FOLKS’, WOULD YOU?), pirate phone companies, life insurance, biblical tirades, lines of credit, the phone never stops ringing.   I even got an email from an alternative medicine site I’m listed on from someone who wanted to…I think, anyway…date me.  You know, I’m interested in you, darling, I am honest and..er… email me to my email so I can email you a picture, it doesn’t matter how old or what color you are. Or even what sex, kind of TBA.  Also? They probably have a bank account in Nigeria they want to give me, or else they want to register my domain name in China,  or help me realize my dream of making tens of thousands of dollars a month after giving them a mere pittance to reveal their secrets.  Meanwhile, for a pickmeup, we can ponder what’s going on in Washington DC.  Or Sacramento CA.  The propaganda flows and flows and the truth takes a good bit of searching for. It boggles the imagination, Gentle Reader, boggles it.  On to deep breathing…..

50 Piglets

This morning I was feeling run down and a bit depressed about my situation in the larger scheme of things.  Which is why, when I heard gunfire coming from the direction in which The Partner had just set off on a walk, I slapped my forehead (startling the parrots who were awaiting their breakfast), said OHNO and WHATNOW, checked the quantum field to see that all was well, and continued on with the task at hand.

Ten minutes later, parrots on each shoulder munching away, we all looked up at The Partner as he rather swiftly entered the yurt, saying something to the effect of wowwhatarush.  GETTING TO THE POINT, there were roughly 55 pigs up behind the yurt, going down to the stream.  Five adults and 50 piglets.  I was crushed to miss this, but less so as the story came out, which of course involved The Partner being charged by a sow.  Right behind the yurt!  Having adopted the habit of always carrying a pistol on these excursions (because, mountain lions, snakes,  bears and now? pigs) he was able, being an incredibly self possessed sort at times, to fire off the shots I heard to deflect the sow’s clear intent to flatten and trample him.  The adults apparently took off leaving the fleet of piglets to follow on their own, with, naturally, the smallest one last.  Of course they were all adorable and all different colors: gray, brown, spotted, red.  But really, Gentle Reader, that is a lot of pigs.

The hillside up behind us and the slope down to the creek- a large swath of ground- now look like a demented and very inept golfer spent several hours, if not days, venting an incredibly bad temper.

Given the crepuscularly timed activity penchant of pigs, it is now clearer to me why the two blasted roosters next door, who started crowing at 4 am (moon still fairly full and apparently hard to differentiate from the sun), kept it up for the next two solid hours, at length getting the entire 60 or so members of the flock into vocal high dudgeon.  They saw the pigs.  As did the horses who made similar alerting sorts of noises.  Our landlord, however, who was outside at that hour slamming things around into a pickup truck, did not.  He’s not going to like what he sees in his lower garden area, is all I’m going to say.

Horsefeathers

Today the internal sanity police have decreed a session of cookie baking is in order.  Chocolate chip/cherry.  But first….

We don’t have tv here, so I’m watching the developments in Egypt online and through listening to NPR.  I hope that the positive aspects of this movement carry the day- on the silliest level? How astonishing would it be for one of the oldest civilizations on earth to be one of the first to shake off the fetters of the past epoch of power, corruption, and greed?  Sometimes I am quite sure that the average person in this country doesn’t give much thought to how so many others in the world live- but there does come a point where things just have to change.  We are there.

Meanwhile the Partner is out rock hunting and whaddaya know? He’s found rocks with not just silver in them but gold too.  Microscopic amounts to be sure but still rather exciting.   The spate of warm weather last week brought all our old friends out too, the small birds and rabbits, new lizards and the talking frogs.  It’s cold again so I am hoping they all manage to stay warm but meanwhile it is wonderful to see them.  The first wildflowers are out :  Buttercups and Queen Anne’s Lace.

The horses next door are running their humans ragged, too.  Their feeding times have changed a bit, to their displeasure.  The result is that starting at about 5 am, there is intense thumping on their empty metal food trough. BOOMBOOMBOOM.  One day an attempt to get them to stop so enraged them that they not only, very quietly, untied the trough from the chicken wire fence, tippy toed it out into the middle of their space, tipped it over, but then? Kicked the living daylights out of it for a smart ten minutes.  This sounded more or less like Armageddon.  The chickens meanwhile are crowing at 2 am, rude ejections of roosters from the coop are seen, and the hens are chest bumping each other.  It must be spring.