windthread

Because the days are mine,

i find myself able to do things that somehow didn't ever happen before.   I can bring in the exact wood for the Morning fire,  twist the newspaper starter and lay the beginning in place in the Stove.  

 

but this evening,  i saw there was one more step

 

just now...there were a few tiny coals still glowing.  Had i set things inplace,  chances are that the newspaper would have ignited,  the kindling,  and who knows,  in the morning,  they would be used up.  so one more step.  Sometime during the day,  stir the ash.  Making sure the floor of the stove will be Ready.  Ok.  good enough.  Stove and I are partners.  The days are ours.

 

and....What's This?

just following Urge...  What's happening here?

Circle back

this will ask for Space.  For slow looking,  for just being With.  Quiet.  Slow.  Looking.  Waiting until there are signs.  

living like an animal .......and later, Word from Our Own Nancy

which i am.  Finally,  living like one.  Awareness,  Ease.  Living with awareness and ease.  Different.

 

i should have said this yesterday.   The black/white beads.  They ARE beads.  Jude Hill's Thread Beads.   More than the visual,  to run a fingertip along them,  a whole different thing.  And beads they are,  just as that string of beads let lie on the cloth,  beads.  For Thread Beads,  i am so deeply grateful.

and then...Our Nancy,  Pomegranatetrail.blogspot.com.   Life has presented to her more than could be imagined,  but as Life does,  It did.  Please go there and read her oh so fine words that are so rare and so honest.  Look at the photographs she chose to accompany them.  Sit with this a while.  

and then if you can,  Help.  Your Help will truly Help.  but even beyond that,  her grandson will see how much love there IS in this world.  How much love IS.  He needs to know this now.

i signed my small help as 

grace  Nancy's friend.  So he can see.  How far the ripples go.  That he has a world to count on.

this Cloth

its finished.  It's in the shop.  as record.   i think it's spoken for.   How it began with Gideon, which was about Love and then went,  of its own accord on,  far beyond that to how it is with this thing of Living.   There is SO much in this Cloth,  today,  the Love for that small cat Wheat.  Catness.  Life.

Life

Life is the overriding energy.  Back to Gideon,  forward to Wheat.  intertwined with her Feral Mother....the life forms they might carry.  Life.  How Life goes forward,  no matter.  Is Fierce.

Day of my New Life

Ordinarily,  i would be feeling the squeeze.   Only the weekend ahead.  But today,  it's different.  The weekend is still Free.  Monday will be Free.

Free.

There is a Spaciousness.

After feeding all Who i Feed,  including self,  i went back Out and continued with a gentle purposeful energy.  

Shoveled 3 wheelbarrows of manure dust that has pushed through and cleared this space.

 

the second shelf with the live trap and the box that says Dog Door is the shelf for stuff to take.

 

i found the plate for the Airstream,  from Oregon,  that i'd looked so hard and long for in the sand Over there,  raking and raking,  thinking the Goats had torn it loose and it was buried.  Not.  here it is.  It would have made the registration of the airstream a billion times easier and less expensive.  but Alas.  So i have it as a memento.

 

 

on this side,  everything that SHOULD go is in front.  Ready to be just loaded in.   Behind are things that CAN go,  maybe,  but what's in front is ready.  At the drop of a hat.

 

 

ropes,  the so beloved cotton straps,  a couple short chains with hooks

 

the copper accordian coils from the Subaru radiator.  I made myself a little story of the old woman,  getting Ready to go...what she took.  Nice.

 

roll of tight woven wire under the chicken wire...needs to Go.  For Kid Goats.  I think of the words...needs to go and they also are "needs to come".

 

End of October,  2017.  Ready.  for Whatever.

Spent the afternoon finishing the thread beads of the Cloth.  Finished.  now,  just the beads of Continuing,  that rise up.....and infuse it all with the MORE.  Tomorrow for that.  

This day,  Excellent and received with intense Gratitude.  and Love.

 

AND I FORGOT TO SAY....

the fire is set for the morning.  Just the strike of a match.  How great can this be?

 

 

Listening

need to finish the beads on top,  and then the golden seed beads rising up.   There is another being,  and eye in that middle space of the cloth that's about how things are descending and ascending,  coming and going in a field of fecundity,  All things feeding All things.  The eye is just to the right of the "tassel".  Deep satisfaction in this Cloth.

 

 

already

already word of the Freelance Special Projects has begun floating through this corner of the Universe.

I tell self...go slow.  Cloth Making is Primary.  for the first time,  possible.  Hold to this.

how it goes, when it goes of Its own accord

of its own accord,  when we give up and surrender to the Going,  because there's nothing we can think of to DO,  so we surrender to the Goingness of the Whole.

Yesterday morning,  i was a wreck.    It was the day i took Ember to the other Work Away.   I was lost in What If.  I was lost in....Now What?   I am still here.  and might be still here till who knows when.  and i was giving up my final source of regular income.  Like Food money.   

But what i am,  if nothing else,  is Responsible.  And Responsible in this case meant responsible to those who depended on me.  My ify situation didn't work with the sense of Responsibility to them.  And here was Ember.  Willing and Ready.  Here was me,  not knowing and out of balance.  So to attend to the responsibility,  i needed to do this.  

This morning,  the Last Day at Bill and Nelia's.  Last of many years....not sure exactly and it doesn't matter,  but somewhere around 16.   and i'd slept fitfully,  waking at the 2 something hour to mull through it all,  interwoven with the Dream things.  

But when i got Up,  5 something A.M.,  i sat with that first cup of tea and the word

Freelance

rose up.  Ok.  Freelance.

no longer particular "jobs" to go to...but WORK nonetheless....to hold things over,  till i do at some point GO.  Space opened OUT....what might this mean?   Short things,  special projects,  but what was CLEAR was NO SCHEDULE,  NO TIMELINE.    Just doing as doing happened.

and there was this HUGE SENSE OF FREEDOM.  

and i finished my last day at Bill and Nelia's and left a note to that effect.  Freelance.

and he called later saying he wanted to come and do the yearly wood stove chimney thing and he came and i'd gotten out the electric chain saw that had been sitting for 1o plus years since i'd bought it to cut that Russian Olive in the House Yard and then never again,  and it was just OK and Fine and we cut that fallen oh so Grand Russian Olive in the Way Back, to burn

 

and then

 

Wheat,  whose maybe different name is Slender,  Wheat watched it all.  I'd not fed her for 3 days.  Hoping she would just go away.  She hasn't.  and comes,  on time,  everyday,  when i feed the Goats.  Counting on me.

responsibility.

so i gave her food.  This morning Thelma of Mike and Thelma of the now defunct Native Plant Nursery called...just to see how it's going and in the exchange,  they have a couple of Live Traps and i will go there and get one and Live Trap Wheat or Slender  Slender/Wheat if i can...if she will allow....and take her to the spay/neuter for Feral.  and i think....

how really so Great and Magnificant things can be in their own small ways.   How we all can just Go.  in our own small ways.  and how stuff can be just ok it it's own small ways.

Tay's little pea sized sores appear to be growing hair.  

 

equilibrium

Wikipedia

physical, chemical, or social science equilibria,  and wider contexts,  the condition of systems in which all competing influences are balanced.

these two Instruments.  From my grandfather.   I cleaned them with Water.  Dried them.  They have been on the South Window Sill of the Room for so long.  Covered in dust.  Artifacts.   They each have that little glass tube with the Whatever in it that has a bubble that can articulate balance,  Level.  If things are equal,  the bubble rests, centered, between two vertical lines.  

"wider contexts" it says.  I feel a Cloth.

Home

Home is not necessarily Here,  or Somewhere Else.  Home can be anywhere,  really.  It's where your space is.  Uninterrupted.  The Space of You.

When i can be Home,  even when Home is taken Over by the UnderWorld,  i am at home within my Self.  So...maybe my Self,  when it can be primary,  is Home enough.  maybe not even Primary,  but of equal weight.  Even that is enough.

All week i had to be up and ready to be Somewhere Else.  For me,  it takes its Toll.  Always has,  but for whatever reason,  now even more.  Some thought would be good,  about this.

 

Wind blurring bloom,  but Bloom, nonetheless

 

a Marker of having kept things Safe here.  Hanging over Ramon's grave.  How it's been a Hospice.

 

the incredible Relief of  Cloth Making.  That happens in the Home.  in the Home Space.

 

Who IS IT?  Cat Mother?  Me?  All of Us?  the Feminine.  No matter,  even if it is the spore of the ringworm fungus,  it's that never ending momement toward Life.  All of Us,  no more,  no less.  Just Life.  Just Going.  Doing the best we can with what we know in the moment.  I love how that yellow/gold thing is Her flower,  her emblem for having the whatever it takes.  If it works or if it doesn't,  we try and follow our own imperative.   and no one should judge that.