windthread

today

a Monday, Work Away,  come home and live up to promise to self to get some Out Side work done,  did that and the afternoon monsoon was approaching the Rim

this is the pic you have seen before,  but there was no time for a new one.  But she is quite the same except bigger,  even today and we had a gentle exchange....i need to change hoses and so she needs to move for that and i went slowly,  doing this,  detaching a hose,  attaching a hose,  detaching and attaching again and the spigot thing X 4,  on, off,  on, off and she moved just enough to allow for all this...her EYES looking up at me,  head turning.   i explained it all,  what i was doing.  She listened and waited for the slight leak of water. 

how it Is, or, appears to be

today was OUTSIDE.  I harvested dog shit into the empty 50 lb dog food bag,  mostly from the House Yard in preparation for weedwhacking there.  Dear Tay.  her Personal space was reduced so much when Sunny Ray came back and Gideon moved.  We have really outgrown this particular Plan.  And i hauled things that have been set out of place to some new configuration,  but still,  we have outgrown our space here.

All while working i have thought about the info from Annalisa,  Kaisen Journey,  about

cunt

 

i talked to Alyssia just now...the conversation moving and moving,  a flow as she fed this newest one of Us from her breast

from her breast.  There's so much milk.  All day since morning i have run the hose,  run water,  how water is like milk,  keeping things alive

how there are FOUR of us now,  4.  How some months ago,  there were 3 of us and knowing that the small being was female,  what that felt like,  but also knowing tho female she might be born to die...the Trisomy 13 flags   the 4th,  born to die and how we,  and i say we,  because anyone of us could have tipped it,  how we took the chance.  How so totally GREAT we had the option of NOT taking the chance if we didn't feel we could....but we felt we could and took it

 

here she is,  looking like she is enjoying some very personal joke...

our 4th generation.  Who'd've guessed.  

 

 

 

......~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.......~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~......

after a bath that made her cry.

 

just LOOK!,  how she has Grown.  and still knows me,  will jump to my hand so i can open the water,  move back and wait till i return to close it,  moving easy...back and forth...she knows.

at Kaizen Journey....AnnaLisa,  Jude's side bar of community....she put a link today to a pod cast exploring the word....Cunt.   Go there,  if you can or are interested.  I opens the whole thing of cunt~ness for including.  Explore the etimology and nuance of cunt~ness.  To me,  it is cunt~ness that defends,  that gives birth,  that washes the dead.

and all day,  i thought about this.  how cunt to me does not extend to anything Shared, really,  that would i guess be the vagina,  the public part of me.  Cunt instead refers as i sense it to be my innermost female self.  The self that bled and does not anylonger bleed,  but still,  has the memory of bleeding and so the Power of bleeding that brought Emrie here.  So i don't so much think it might be anything ever of words,  me to her,  but rather something more primitive...like scent,  like Looking together.  Goats,  doe Goats know the thing of Cunt~ness.  Maybe that's how the exchange will transpire?  and  Like praying mantis.

 

Day Dream.  The Crows will come for her

 

 

the day after

i woke this morning...and it was Different.  it took a minute to realize what that was...that it was that Emrie had been born and that for now and maybe into forever,  we can just Go.  

and i got this from my Sisterfriend, Sparrow that says exactly how it Seems to Be....

 

"since when something is so so Right,  it just kachinks into its waiting-place and

Occupies.

am certain it registers on some level with entire universal sangha.  A noticing."

 

and i looked at the small Something that i'd stitched,  not knowing really, at all what it is/was but when reading her words,  i heard that sound....kachink!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BORN~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

She's here.  Emrie.  Here.

no details yet.  For the first hour they do nothing...babe is just skin on skin to mother.  But she's probably 5 lbs something.  She's little,  but she has everything needed to take her Place on this Planet.  Alyssia is fine.  and maybe only second to her being born,  Julian,  who has been less than enthusiastic about sharing his mother,  Julian,  at the last minute asked to go to the hospital to see her born.  He arrived 7 minutes before.  Watched with his Nana,  watched as the doctor said push.  rest.   push.   rest.  Push  and he watched.  He witnessed.

 

 

the Reprieve of clothmaking

all invisibly basted

 

in the very upper right corner,  the first of the many Crows that will come for her.  It's Deb Lacativa's "dirty thread" which is unbelievably excellent.

 

Tonight at 7:30 California time,  they will do whatever it is to cause Alyssia's cervix to efface.  It can take 3 to 12 hours.  If it works.  Julian arrived back from 6 weeks with his father in New Jersey yesterday.  Right now,  they are at daughter Jenny's.  Julian wanted to see his Nana.  ok.   Emrie is engaged but still smallish.  it is unclear whether the placenta is giving nutrients.  ok.  

saying to Self, "it's ok"

here's pics from yesterday,  taken today on my way to town,  belated because when i was leaving the Work Away job there was a Great Darkness over to Magdalena Mountain and i had not retarped the alfalfa,  so i went home instead of on to town.  Took a nap and set out again.  Out of cat food for the WayBackUnderHouse family.

 

up to what looks like a brown tree bush,  which is the Mother Salt Cedar.  Some kind of caterpillars ate her.  also her child inside.  Not to worry,  they are indestructable....but beyond that brown treebush is the whole rest of the fence of the backside of this sovereign state.  There,  the Kochia is even taller.  This is a 6ft fence.  Within the week,  the Kochia will be at least 8 ft.  And now, too,  the pig weed that is in the foreground.

Pig Weed,  but looking down....HEY!  WAIT!.......Verdolaga!

 

it's NICE!   amidst  the Pig Weed.   it's tender and tender stemmed,  i ate a hand full and will go back in the morning to gather some to saute.  More nutritious than spinach.  and i went again later to UTube to find that guy's video where the women are singing about  " I love Verdolaga",  Chanflas,  Cooking with El Chavo and saw,  miraculously at the bottom because of the chosen color of background and type a link to a BLOG  ....  food in LA  and i thought,  who knows?????  Maybe once.   i will go to LA and EAT.  My son, the chef,  sends me links to utubes about street food in LA,  little joints for FOOD in LA.  I love these.

 

the little beat out Honda,  poised,  waiting,  to head into town.

and i thought more about stuff and really,  it is all just how it is.  There is No Wonder,  because it IS exactly what it is.  How it began with the crash of the Old Russian Olive tree that is still there,  out there,  in the Way back,  crashed...what that signaled.  And on to needing to be ready to leave twice already but then not.   it is an Of Course.  and i guess i feel impelled to somehow make it something that it's Not,  something it just ISN'T.  It IS an impending disconnect but simultaneously a Re connect,  a Just Going.  and there is no need.  No need at all to make it anything other than exactly what it is.

 

 

 

words will have to do.

partly because it was work away that seems to be taking more of a toll recently.  I just don't Want to.  and it took forever,  it seemed,  because in the last couple months,  like today,  Bill is home.  He semi retired himself.  He likes to talk to me.  So,  when i'm scrubbing the bathtub he says things from over there and i can't  hear him,  so me and the rag have to get up and go out into the hall and say WHAT????  Part of it is because i have KEPT their house for going on 15 years now.   and that i'd kept his mother's house,  Alz. B,  and then i kept his mother herself in her 3 years at the old folks home,  and how,  the night she died,  we both sat there with and next to her and then walked,  the rest of the night till dawn,  the streets in town,  just walking and feeling it.  and i have known all their dogs,  he and his wife Nelia,  a few horses that are gone now too,  sang them the Dying Song and helped him bury them.  and how he has many times fixed my plumbing  and has watched me here,  built that overkill beam over the place where daughter Jenny and i cut through the wall of this trailer house and made the ROOM out of a screened in porch,  helped me with fencing when the Goats were coming.  He does the oil change in the Honda.  I gave him my Datsun pickup,  Blue Bird, because she either ran perfectly or not at all.  50/50.  He is a geologist but also loves mechanics.  BlueBird is his welding truck.  He met me and i began housekeeping there when i was still married to That Person,  he met him,  knew him just some,  but he knows me from those days when i was Wary of anyone knowing much.

so we have History.  there's a Lot More.  But just to say

and before i went there this morning i walked the perimeter  of this fence that creates the  sovereign state of Here to repair some slats of that fence because of a couple dogs that appeared yesterday,  frightening the Goats.  as i did that i realized that if i took a pic of that Other side of the fence,  i could give You a real sense of the Kochia.  What Kochia IS here.  How it is all consuming.   I'll take a pic tomorrow morning,  so You can get the drift.  I didn't have the energy for it this eve.  There was a TON of rain to that storm last night.  It's 90 something and humidity is HIGH.  All the feed tubs for Goats swimming in stinky feed water and needing hosed out and Gideon's tarp leaked...i need to muck his little hut out and fill with new dry straw , buy him a new tarp tomorrow.

and the Kochia grows.  You'll see.  now the Pig Weed too.

any Way.

i didn't want to go to Work Away.  I don't want to have to deal with this abundance of Kochia.

and i can't tell if it's because i am 71 this summer?....that's OLD.  or  OR if it's that i am knowing i will be going soon?,  to a place where it's very different?  I don't know.  I can't know.  and i'm trying to work out how to Work it,  whatever it is.  Because i AM here

and 

i AM here.  Here.  And as i was just out feeding and filling the water tubs there was the most amazing Black and White dragon fly.  I ran to get the camera but it was no use,  s/he wouldn't sit for a photograph,  flitting here to there,  this side of the yard fence to that,  but so so so BeautyFull

there's just a LOT.  a lot of stuff.

 

 

 

 

the Kochia GROWS

i know i am

going

so there is a distinctly different energy about dealing with the Kochia.  I think of how it might be if i were not going.  Very Different.  I would just Go.  I would just make my way through it.  Again.  as i always have.

 

this,  between two of the tomato plants...close to 7 ft tall.  But everywhere,  differing sizes,  but Kochia.  What LOVES to grow.  Earlier today i went out with the tree pruning shears and cut and threw for the Goats.  They LOVE Kochia.    But to turn them loose,  they would LOVE the bushes and trees FIRST and Kochia second.  So i wander with the pruning shears,  throwing over their fences.

and i look at them,  these Goats.  so fine and Beauty Full,  their hair/coats glistening in the Sun,  so fine and so Beauty Full and how they know their names...how can they?  amongst all of them,  but you call their name and they know and respond...?????  I love the Goats and back

and near that tall  tall Kochia is a kind of sorgum  that appears of its own accord...here,  draping itself over the tomato plant

 

then...just maybe SECONDS later

 

WHAT is this?  Same place,  Same space but ....What is THIS and what is it saying and what does it MEAN?

 

Great DEEP STRONG THUNDER...just to the South,  Rain now,  steady.  But probably when all is said and done,  not enough to Grow a Tomatoe Plant.  Enough,  yes,  for the desert.  Enough,  yes for Kochia.  But not enough for a tomatoe.

big storm rolls through

how we are.   made of where we live.   how it remains what we are ,  where our foot palms touch the Earth,  how we can go and take it.  How the crows will find us.