windthread

a day of great happiness

finally.  Opened this up again after having just begun, last week.  And not being able to put it down.  I was not expecting this.   I had said a while back that maybe i'd read a little at a time and then write about it here.  But that's impossible.  Every sentence builds upon another and to take any of them out of context is just that...taking out of context and it's CONTEXT that it's all about.  But this one small thing:

"The world under our feet, the dark kingdom of which we're astoundingly unaware;  the down under that may account for up to 95% of our planet's species diversity.  This is the world of  soil microorganisms.  Dig up a teaspoon of healthy soil from your garden or from a city park or from the weedy strip along side a highway, and you're looking at something like 1 billion to 7 billion organisms,  depending on the health of the soil.  Scientists guess that as many as 75,000 species of bacteria could be in that teaspoon, along with 25,000 species of fungi, 1,000 species of protozoa, and 100 species of tiny worms called nematodes...and the count of microorganisms keeps rising, as scientists figure out better and better ways to look for them."

It's a truly WONDER FULL book,  extremely readable Science with many many leads to follow up in the real world of farming around the planet.    So i read.  and inbetween, stitched more on the Cloth.  More microbes.  a nematode or two.   And i looked and looked at how it was important when i placed it,   that the Soul's "toes" touched this earth.   Then,  things Out Side....

 

 

the Woad.  Going to seed.  How each cluster has the one single "seed?" that looks like a feather...

 

 

 

hollyhocks.  lots,  LOTS of pollen

 

first tomato

 

 

a Chatalpa.  Cross between a Catalpa and Desert Willow.  Don't know why,  but the hummingbirds like it very much.

 

Native Olive.  Burgeoning with fruits this year.  For birds and small seed eating beings.

 

and this grass,  a clump grass,  as is all the Native Grasses that i love and depict on cloths...i don't know what this is.  There are two clumps.  Near where i empty the bucks water bowls.  I need to find out.  There is a grass that is Foxtail that looks like this that is very dangerous to livestock.  i hope it's not this.  It's incredibly beautiful in the wind.

and one more thought about the above.   The reason that i am so hopeful about the possibility of the Soil Saving us is...that it has already begun to be accepted by even the larger more willfully ignorant world of Agriculture as we know it.   There is interest.  There is interest because more and more thousands of acres of farmland are dead and dying due to really,  almost innocent misunderstanding about How Things Go.  More mainstream farmers are turning to no till farming, turning to "organic" farming which means no pesticides, no chemical fertilizers, no herbacides,  only because they can no longer afford them because their land is DEAD and they have no money.  It takes about 5 years of the no till to begin to see great and unmistakable HEALTH and production of crops.  Livlihood.  5 years to see the return to Livlihood.  and this is Documented by farmers like Gabe Brown in North Dakota.  They are TALKING  and being invited to TALK.  and 5 years....we have 5 years.   Maybe the vast majority of citizens of the planet won't be able to take to heart what needs to be done.  But Farmers.  Farmers fill our grocery stores with food.  Farmers and Ranchers are a HUGE and POWERFUL lobby with polititians who have no personal will.   Food is a bottom line.   maybe...............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

peace and quiet

grasses.  one more worm.

 

and microbes.

 

Plowing damages the soil structure, exposing soil carbon to the air where it combines with oxygen and  "floats away as carbon dioxide".   There is a growing movement among small farmers who are calling themselves soil farmers, microbe farmers, carbon farmers.   
This is no till agriculture.  The soil, instead of being plowed,  is planted with a machine that punches slits in the soil through the roots and debris of last years crop,  dropping seed in those slits.  The residue of a season's crop is chopped, spread and left there which reduces erosion, keeps soil temperature cooler during hot months,  and provides food for earthworms and other creatures that aerate the soil, enrich it,  make it porous and absorbant.

An earthworm can drag a leaf down more than 3 ft into the soil.

Paraphrased from  the Soil Will Save Us .... Kristin Ohlson

ranchito?...what can we call this place? anyway, ranchito day....as in little ranch day?

Today was GOATS.   

 

this morning, Giving Water to the Buck Goats,  i see this.

 

a Diamond web.   a sign.

Today,  the Other vet.  they call it a Ranch call.    He was late,  but he arrived and he arrived WITH A GOOD AND STURDY YOUNG WOMAN VET TECH!!!!!!!!!!!!!   oh hooray and Tra La...   When i had stopped there on Tuesday to make the appointment and speak with him,  i underlined the fact that Magic is a Strong and Headstrong Goat.  No lightweight, her.   So...here they were.   i  brought them through the house,  out the back door so They would know they were "house people".   They however gathered in an arc,  staring.  Still.  gathered,  staring and still.  So we just stood there for a while,  watching them,  i'd given them their evening grasshay early.  They went back to eating,  but the minute i said Magic's name and walked toward her.......no Fooling them....something was UP.

but she didn't run and i got her collar and they moved in.   She began trying to get away and i put my body behind her while hanging onto the collar,  they arranged their stuff and at some point he told the Tech to straddle her.   Long story short as i can,  he marked the cut with a small saw,  enough to hold the thin blade of the Gigli Saw,  my body is at her rear so she can't move back,  she is rearing and yelling,  her tongue hanging out,  making those horrible huffing sounds Goats make,  expelling burts of air,  and the Vet begins to saw,  just a few seconds,  and half way through,  the whole Scur pops off.   Just like the last time with Barbara's scur.   A little blood.  not much.  and we let her go.   They gather up their stuff and leave.  

There is maybe an hour of ...... of,   what?.   an hour of UnSureNess.  Much movement.  Much headbutting.   Comotion.  No one eats.  They just mill around.   a Lot of vocalization.  and i sat on the porch and watched.  For sure,  now,  it's Onday that is the Alpha Goat.  Snowbunny,  the Matriarch has deferred to her daughter Onday.   For a while,  Onday follows Magic.  There is no overt behaviors.  All she has to do is look in Magic's direction and Magic moves.   As time goes by,  it eases.  Magic is allowed to eat,  unlike Barbara,  who was kept away for 3 days.   I think this is because of Magic's standing in the Herd.  She is a strong Goat.   But i don't really know.

and just before the rain storm,  i took advantage of all the ify feelings out there and filled my pockets with peanuts (in the shell)  and had the wisdom to use the moment in a good way.  i called the name of each Goat,  clearly, with direct eye contact and when that Goat came forward through the throng,  i gave the peanut with a closed hand to mouth and said the sound that the Mustang Woman taught me...the sharp !D!.   Over and over,  each Goat,  each name, !D!Peanut!   until  everyone had several chances,  including Magic,  Magic 4 times, !D!.

so we survived another Event.  and i understand more and more that it's how it is.  and all there is is  Just Going.  Doing what needs to be done.  We Just Go.

 

you can see where the cut was Supposed to be

 

 

 

 

and stitching....well,  only this one worm.  There will be many.

 

and this one bird.  There will be many.

 

This.  

Querencia:

"The word doesn't translate.  It is used in Spanish to designate that mysterious little area in the bullring that catches the fancy of the fighting bull when he charges in.  He imagines it his santuary.  when parked there, he supposes he cannot be hurt.....So it is,  borrowing the term,  that one can speak of one's "querencia" to mean that little,  unspecified area in life's areana where one feels safe, serene."

William F. Buckley     Racing Through Paradise

 

soul or spirit?

i swore i wouldn't do this,  but.....

my son's daughter.   Giana Lily,  but who i wanted to name Alluvial Fan.  here on in,  Alluvial Fan.  This is her.  in the tent.  First camping trip.

 

the View from the tent door.  Her mother's toes.  Colorado.

 

While i stitched,  the soul rested in the small bowl.   and while the soul rested,  and i stitched,  i thought about what the difference is between a Spirit and a Soul.   i have no real answers yet,  but i am thinking.   There is no firm answer, probably,  but to my sense of things,  there IS a difference.  Thinking.

 

 

unlike what i'd thought,  the shelter for this soul will be grasses.  ok.  and  Souls/Spirits...  maybe a Spirit is an entity in and of itself.  Has always been and always Will be.   a Soul might be the Energy Released from  some Being that has been attached to the Life we know on this Planet???

another day

stopped at the Thrift Shop on the way down from seeing Alz. B for the first time in over a week.  (They had Norovirus and did not want anyone coming in and out.  Today that was lifted and life will go on as usual.)   This dress was there.  It's homemade.  It's perfect.  Can you see the repeat of the inverted triangle of the pockets ...their flaps?    and i don't know the correct words,  but the pattern of the cloth  (cotton) for the skirt  was also cut in an inverted V,  perfectly matched.  Who made this,  i wonder?  My intention is to take the sleeves off,  the collar,  change the buttons and turn it into a Hose Dress.  (Hose Dress:  light cotton dress that as i work outside in heat,  i hose self down ...with the hose....and as the water evaporates,  i am cool)  But now as i look at it,  i'm not sure i can do that.  Someone went to great lengths creating this dress.   hmmmm.

 

a very fine plain light weight silk jacket.   Back to Jude's Contemporary Boro.  21 century Rags.  But i have maybe 3 or 4 like this already in some basket or other.  Why did i bring this home?

 

and similarly so,  Yet Another pair of perfect overalls.  Just to the point of nicely worn.  Route 66 brand, these.  But i already have a pair.  and so, the question of Why arises again.

 

and this.  A pillow case.  Again, homemade.   There is a darkening in the middle...both sides....a stain.  It smells nice,  is nicely washed,  but the stain gives it some kind of extra feeling that is ify.  I am guessing it's from the head that lay upon it.    A head that used some kind of hair product.  Am thinking of a man's hair product.   But i am a sucker for this kind of old cotton print.   i like it a lot.

I made a quick run to Walmart for the Old Cowboy's essentials.  10 frozen Banquet Turkey Pot Pies  (pretty much all he wants to eat anymore),   Walmart bakery Cinnamon Swirl Bread,  Halls throat lozenges,  the rootbeer hard candies he likes,   and i threw in a bag of grapes which he will let rot in the refrigerator.  Dropped all that off.  

Stopped at the Other vet and talked to him.  Made an appointment for Thursday at 3 for him to come and trim Magic's scur.    We'll see if it goes better than the last scur trim for Barbara who was ostrasized for 3 days because she bled.   Part of the reason that happened was because i didn't hold her well enough.   I explained that to this vet,  a different one,  and he just listened patiently and said yes, well, ok.   So i am visualizing well ahead how i need to hold Magic.  but she is  a strong Goat and very uhhh,  headstrong.  Thursday.

all that and i cleaned Allen's house which is the home now for Thing One and Thing Two,  two kittens.   It's an Event.    They zip from object to object like tiny meteors....are barely visible because of their speed.

 

this small soul waited here at home.   There is a very thin copper thread.  Loosened from a Chore Boy Scrubbie.   It was on the floor.   I like it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

a day

Tazmeena has her Place back

 

back to look more at the Oriole nest

 

the string is from feed bags.  They have horses.

 

the entire bottom has this blue and white plastic woven in.  not sure what that's from.  I'll find out.

 

 

 

inside,  some maybe decorative pieces,  or,  maybe Educational pieces...that just dawned on me.  Bits of the Cottonwood seed blooms,  bits of dried Cottonwood leaves.   Could it be?,  to inform the new ones of which tree to look for.  Orioles nest here in Cottonwoods.    and suddenly, when i was looking at this pic i Knew what the center layer is.   Until just this moment,  i was wondering what the soft layer is that is between the first and outer Weave of horsehair.   i wondered if it was dog hair, but no.  and then,  they have llamas.   Maybe undercoat of llama?,  but that seemed unlikely.  But when i wondered the above,  about if the small decorations inside were to Educate the new ones,  suddenly i Knew.  It is the "fluff",  the "cotton" that bursts from the seed pods of the tree and for a short time fills the skies with floating drifting  "cotton fairies".   How Brilliant!   How just  surreal.   There is close to an eight of an inch of this fiber between the horsehair weaves.   It is very soft and very much like wool.  

The nests are used again and again by mating pairs that Winter elsewhere and return each spring.  Unless, as in this case,  WIND brings them down.   And then,  a new nest must be built.   But if the old nest remains,  it is inspected closely,  reinforced and used again.   I keep thinking how this nest was woven with a Beak.  a Beak of a bird.   Fiber by fiber.  Seed fluff by seed fluff.   I would give almost Anything to watch this.   Maybe sometime i can.  They return year after year to the large old Cottonwood at Bill and Nelia's.   Maybe someday i can  have the kind of life that would allow me to just go sit there.  Wait for their return,  and watch.  Watch her bring  the horsehair,  a strand at a time.   Weave.  with her beak.

 

 

 

 

 

mysterious Beauty

 

 

 

this.  under the Apricot Tree.  just lying there amidst the grasses, dried leaves,  organic debris.  i've never seen such a thing.  Looking,  i think it is an egg case of a Gall Wasp.  i have never seen a Gall Wasp here,  either.  it's dry and firm.  how firm,  i don't know because i don't want to put too much pressure simply for my own curiosity...things are forming in there.  becoming in there.   

 

thinking, looking, seeing, trying to understand, questions. Good.

There's two of us

 

 

Marti and i found an Oriole nest when we went to get grass hay for the Goats.

a day of many things

but the most important are these two.

This morning i read this.   About ....  this:

the Love Letter was taken to a

dock

a dock in Florida,  where she spent the day till dusk.   Can you Imagine?  How this FEELS?  this cloth that i made here in the middle of New Mexico,  spent a day lying on a DOCK in Florida?????

when i was a child,  i "had" to spend chunks of time with my maternal aunt in Northern Michigan,  at their cottage on a small lake.  Because of lonliness,  i spent hours of days of weeks,  lying on my stomach on the  creaking wooden Dock,  that rocked me like a baby in a cradle.  The water,  singing soft songs,  the smell, fragrance, scent of water plants comforting me.   Looking over the edge, deep, then deeper,  watching all the myriad of beings who inhabited that small body of water.  Feeling Held.   and to see this,  this morning,  a Flood of FeltSense, of deep deep Happiness.  and that's not all.  Guess what's NEXT?....Love Letter is going to go 

Kayaking.   who could have imagined.

and then i needed to make a big trip to the Laundromat, which you might remember is called  the Bubble Machine,  but on the way i stopped at the little post office,  just in case,  and YES.....YES.

 

HERE.  in my home.  First Iris....Patricia Spangler...followingthread.wordpress.com.....here.  Here, in my hands.  in my home.  First Iris.   

I cannot tell you the nuance of this Cloth.  It carries the Soul of an Iris.   the stitching of her Beingness....so delicate, yet so fierce,  just as Iris is.  and the earth,  that holds the rhizomes,  the rhizomes.  The sky that repeats or that is repeated in the bloom.  

I carry her around this house,  her weight,  her Colour,  everything.  i carry her around,  holding her out at arms length....seeing her against the backdrop of where i live.  i'd thought i knew which place i would put her.  But at least for now,  she will be many places.

and i found the book.  I'd thought maybe in one of those Reduce to the Bone moods that i'd taken it off to the Library Sale.  but no.  it was somehow in the cookbooks.  ????

Querencia    Stephen Bodio.  and at the very beginning,  this quote:

"Querencia:

The word doesn't translate.  It is used in Spanish to designate that mysterious little area in the bullring that catches the fancy of the fighting bull when he charges in.  He imagines it his sanctuary:  when parked there, he supposes he cannot be hurt....So it is,  borrowing the term,  that one can speak of one's "querencia" to mean that little, unspecified area in life's arena where one feels safe, serene."

William F. Buckley,  Racing Through Paradise

 

and Just Now,  Hanging Laundry in the Company of Goats

 

 

 

there is Nothing.   Nothing.   Nothing better than this.