windthread

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One story told in Three Voices.   Earth,  Spirit,   a species.  human.  Three voices,  same Story.   

All this Cloth comes as unexpected.   Sewing in the Oak Trees,   the message to go find scrap and the scrap would be butterflies that would speak of Spirit.   The human form becomes in the middle ground between Earth and Spirit.  Many scraps chosen but only these remain.  Not chosen,  but  adamant that they be here.  

Patty of Listentotheroad.blogspot   andMichelle  MsUncertaintyPrinciples.blogspot  have been unable to leave a comment.  I have filled a help ticket to Typepad and as of the response yesterday,  they claim no issue.   IF YOU FIND THAT YOU CANNOT LEAVE A COMMENT,  could you PLEASE email me so that i have more information to provide Typepad.  

PLEASE.

MUCH LOVE to ALL,  this very BeautyFull day

this day

 

the Mullien that just appeared.  And Grew.  Next season,  there will be the spire of blossom.

 

 

 

Alyssia had a dental appointment that turned into a biopsy of something in her throat,  by her tonsils.  Just that today and a referral to an ENT person in Sacramento.   The kids were here.   Julian,  the 10 year old 50 year old man....and he  brought his Pokeymon stuff

that he is determined that i can learn,  and i probably will end up learning,  against my will,  but there are these two plastic coin things and i asked him if he ever heard of Tiddley Winks and he said no,  so we made up a game and made marks on this Table that is the Everything Table...formica  ....that we can write on with pencil and then clean away,  made x's and lines for points in our made up Tiddly Wink game,  kept score and he won by a longshot and we looked up Tiddley Winks on Amazon and sure enough.  And then even over there on UTube.    And all through,  Emrie exerted her SELF into it all even tho she had no idea what was going on

So i was late,  giving Water to the Wall Garden and the plant people at B.  But they had waited for me and Tay.

looking

the more i Look,  the more i See.    The three small beds in the B Garden are ready now.  Some of the Plants that chose to grow there remain.  This one,  i spent a lot of time with.   I smile,  because i think of it as ART.   How skewed that thought is.  It is so beyond ART.  Its Beingness....how long did it take to arrive at this present and perfect iteration?  

 

the more i look,  the more i See.  The more i See,  the more i Love.  The more i Love,  the more i Open.  The more i Open,   the more i See.

loving so hard

the pic from yesterday is of the second generation Basil down in the Wall Garden.   How FIERCE it grew, from its own seed,  producing seed this time that could serve the world.  It's everywhere.  It continues to produce its purple blooms at the end of the flowering stalks.  Not many,  but some maybe enough for the bees that arrive every morning.  But just SO many seeds.

and here in this pic above is the spigot for B Garden.  It's outside the fence,  next to the Road Up.    It has a very slight leak.  I turn it on then undo the fence and go through into B.  Give what water i need to and then let the hose run a while on the base of the Scrub Oak there,  the Pine.  There is nothing noticeable as in a response from them.  They just Be there.  No different than all the ones that get zero water.  

In the last week or so....there,  where the leak is,  the two small plants have grown.  GREEN.  one a plant and one a grass.  This is also happening  at the bases of the Goats water bowls and near the fence where the hose hangs into Talkie's Palace yard.  Green.

All summer the water from the watering has been present.  All summer NOTHING grew.  Nothing.  But now...it begins.  I watch and am filled with Wonder.   The brilliance of it all,  the Sensibility of the unseeable seeds,  so so small,  that  Wait.    How does it go,  the Waiting?  Until it stirs?....is it the Light?,  the change in temperature?  the shortened hours dawn till dusk,  the change in the thickness of Sun Light?  What else?,  some deep humming vibration in the rocks and soil?  Some kind of SONG?  And in readying B Garden to day there were mushrooms.  So spores too.  All summer,  NOT.  Now,  Yes.   

To not squander.  To stand and hold until timing is right that will sustain Life.

I watch Talkie every evening now,  make her way up the long bough of the Oak.  She speaks the same exact words every night.  I hadn't planned to love her at all.  Didn't want to.  There's too much to love already.    But i watch as she enacts her mandate as a Being of this Earth,  so loyal to her chicken ness.  And i can barely stand the Love that that causes.

_{And it's said to stop watching the news.  But i don't.  I check in through the day.  All Fires have now become  "my" fire.   All places are my Place.}

_{I began hearing the sirens differently today...before with a sense of dread...but today,  with the sense of those who are Responding. Their crazy courage that allows them to go INTO the Fire.    What On Earth Is THAT?   and i am filled with Love for them.}

_{so it's all just turning in to Love of a kind.   A very very hard love and really,  i am so glad to be able to come to know this kind of love}

 

i lost the post. will try again tomorrow

a today. October 26, 2019 a Saturday

 

i got TWO paper maps from the AAA place.  She just gave them to me.   This one is of North California.  See all the Green.  National Forest,  all the green.  And then,  extending from all that green is

forest

where now,  many homes are built.   In forests.  The ....people....species, homosapiens....all building these homes WANT things in those homes.   They want not just an electric lightbulb to see to cook and read,  but they want freezers full of food.  TVs.   Instantpots to cook a dinner in an instant.  What else...?....lots of stuff.  Requiring electricity.  AND they do not want FIRE.

so well,  ok.  now what do we do?

they are saying  that tonight an extreme WIND   "event".   

so now,  we don't just need to be alert to Fire,  but we need to be alert to Wind.    Wind.   I think of that,  being from New Mexico where extreme WIND conditions are a regular experience.   Here tho,  they push fire.  They knock down trees.   In New Mexico there's not much to burn,  not trees to knock down in a desert.  Here,  they say if you are in a travel trailer and there are large trees nearby,   move....move your space.  Hmmmm.

We need to stand and FACE.  

i spent early day moving the plants we bought at the  Master Gardeners Sale to safe space from wind.  

this Place here.  This Hill.  It's at the edge of  "civilization" and Forest.  Not deep into Forest.  I understand the desire to live deep into forest.  Totally.  But maybe we cannot.   OR,  maybe we can.  But simultaneously know that at any moment it might all be lost.   That what we NEED might take us out.

the first pic is of an Air Plant i got at the Little Red Hen Nursery.   It can go anywhere.  Be moved around.  I spritzed it with water today.  It was happy. 

How to live like an Air Plant?

Dark is approaching.  Talkie is UP on her branches.  I can hear in the distance the whir of generators fueling our beloved place of Lakeside Market...its  grocery store,  its  gas pumps,  its propane refill station.  There's a lot of traffic that i hear.  People are getting ready.  But we keep getting ready in a crazy way that cannot sustain.  

I am not at all sorry to have become Here in the midst of this.  California,  the place where so much is GROWN for the entire country,  California...such an iconic place...i am not sorry to be here now.   But i would hope that the whole country will watch,  as we burn.  Will somehow understand what's happening.  That what we are doing,  wanting to continue doing,  is not working.

i have an urge to go on.  To keep recording,  as witness to this night.  But i'm tired and morning WILL COME and the Goats will want to be fed and given water.   So...enough.  What will be, will be.

 

so.....Goats.

they conveniently appeared together.   Caroline and Lucky  Star.  Lucky Star striking a casual pose with an alfalfa straw i n her teeth.  

I walked down to feed this morning and from the distance could see a dark form at Sunny Ray and Jack Flash's gate.  Was very early,  way earlier than usual.   ???  The dark form at Sunny Ray's gate was Lucky  Star.  IN SIDE his gate,  IN SIDE his Yard. And as i approached she was mumbling to herself,  lying down, pressed against the gate.  Sunny Ray was prancing around,  snorting and  vocalizing softly in his most loving way.  Jack Flash was way clear over the Far Side,  just watching,  eyes  wide.  It took a minute for it all to sink in.  To find the point of entry.  Which was actually close to impossible.   She had been hanging around him for a day,  flagging.   I CHOSE to let that go by.   He was not seeming to be going crazy with all the Possibility,  ie not getting his head stuck in the fencing,  so i hoped it would just pass.  They are in heat at most 3 days.    If not bred,  all becomes quiet till the following month.   I finally saw that she had somehow,  through  great WILL and STRENGTH popped the cattle panel...steel fencing....off the gate post.  It is attached with Unails,  one per square,  so there,  12 at least.   These are hard to pry out with a strong screw driver or other tool.  She pushed them.  The steel cattle panel is STIFF.  Somehow she squeezed her very PLUMP self through the small space and into his yard.   I can't imagine.  She's a BIG Goat.  It was a small space.  But there she was and she clearly had had enough,  just wanting to be OUT and i opened the gate and out she came to Sunny Ray's dismay.  But the deed is done.  

She is one of the 3 we did NOT want bred.  Mostly because she kids 4 and we have already seen what she  gives.  We also didn't want to breed with Sunny Ray.  He has very strong genetics and throws white and gold kids consistently. Not our favorite.   We had hoped to breed some of the younger ones,  who are no longer young.  But here we are.  And here we go.  150 days.  The good things are that she is a very loving Goat and the Goat that Emrie has bonded with in particular.  Emrie will be able to see them born.  Can imprint them from their first breaths.  She also comes from great milking lines.   I milked her before and she was easy.  

And So.  It's all on the calendar,  official.  Caroline.  Lucky Star.  2 highly charged very short interludes will lead to most likely 6 Goat kids.   So now to monitor the fences.  It seems sometimes all we ever get to do.

 

 

 

the feeling of it, sense of it

the Felt/Sense.   Earth   Oak   She

it could not be more clear

Trees.  the Walnut trees,  alone.  Along the side of a road.   The Cloth,  finally found for Wendy,   Rag of the Day.  After so long.

i looked back in the gmail search for the last connection with Wendy.  It was a post of 5/16/2015,  windthread,  referring to the Wind Horses.  

 

the pic for that post on windthread was this.  A mask.

i woke this morning to find this email:

"Thank you for posting the photo of the chicken in the tree.

I 've been having an odd sort of insomnia for about a week  now.  Last night i decided that it must be here to teach or show me something,  to make space for a change.  In the midst of my midnight scribbling last night,  i found myself writing an instructive fairy tale to myself:

The old woman spinning at the crossroads laughs to see me stumbling along...a cheerful cackling not unlike that of the hens clustered around her.  She hands me  basket twined of honeysuckle and reed.

"Gather the eggs, " she says.

Some of the hens have  made tidy nests near the path,  but others have laid their eggs in the fork of ancient oak or gnarled maple, others under a thorn bush or even in the midst of bright green poison ivy.

"Every egg",  she admonishes me, and her spindle keeps twirling and the yarn keeps growing.  I follow her directions and find that many of the wild-nesting hens have produced the most beautiful eggs...the largest,  the tiniest,  not only creamy white or rich brown, but sometimes streaked with emerald or speckled with luminous turquoise.  I wonder what bird could have fathered such eggs...or perhaps it was the wildness of the mother that created such jewels in the furthest, hidden nests.

I find myself ignoring the nearby nests,  drawn further into the forest.  But i hear her say,  reminding me,  "Every egg.  One never knows".

you can imagine my delight at opening your blog this morning and discovering the most glorious chicken up in the tree!

a sign or omen...?   Whatever,  it made my day.  Thank you!  "

i sat.

read and reread.  Closed it out.  Went off to make tea,  coming back feeling like i would not be surprised if it werent there.

but it was.  I read again.

 

This is Margery Knott of North Carolina.  in further mails she gave me permission to post this.

"after 75 years of putting my writings and weavings  (myself?)  away in drawers....in spite of encouragement ....I have finally dropped my fears...which is how i was able to actually express my thanks to you this morning."

she sent then,  two pics of her WORK.  I will ask permission to post those.  They are "masks".  From her work with Susan Merrill,  weavingalife.com .   

the pics are stunning.  to say the least.

and back to where we started.   Trees.  

first,  Acey returned.  This being after me wandering a while....asking this Hill...How can I live?  What do i do?  and the Hill said,  Listen.  Talk about it.  

today,  i went to the Post Office and brought home The Overestory.  The first page and a half are Enough.

and it went and Goes from there.   Each of us has a tree.  I am sure of that.   Each of us can go sit with the Tree and listen.  today the Utility of  California,  Pacific Gas and Electric  cut off power again,  the second time in 2 weeks to 180.000 customers. They guess for 2 days.  Why?  because there is WIND.  and what does Wind do?  It moves through  Trees.  Branches fall.  

All day,  the power was slated to go off at 2pm,  all day, before that,  i listened.  The Pines here speak in song speak.  The Oaks move and drop leaves that the Goats glean as they fall.  The trees,  it felt to me were energized by the Wind,  relieved of a long hot summer season,  able to shed what was dry,  they,  feeling lightened and free to meet the coming Rain months.  As i write this now,  the Pines continue their Sounding.  Trying to tell us how to live.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Portraits

The most Glorious Chicken

 

Found.   Finally.  After years of hope.

This perfectly intact cotton Household Cloth.   I could not believe my luck.  There,  under several walnuts alongside that road was this cloth.   Finally.  Hope prevailed.

My most loved blog ever beside Spirit Cloth is Grace and Mending.   graceandmending.blogspot.com.   Grace is her dog.  She is Wendy.   Her last post there was Jan 1, 2017.   Prior to that,   September 19,  2014.... The Wind Horse Cloth.  Over the years i've gone back there just to read this post.  I have never tired of it.  I read it again today.

She was one of the participants in the early online workshops that Jude gave us,  the interactive ones.  This is how i came to carry a deep desire to Find a piece of cloth i could send her that she might find useful for something.  All while in New Mex i would have an eye on the shoulder of roads,  the freeway,   pulling over,  walking back,  checking things out.  But it seemed that  New Mex was a synthetic world.  I never gave up.

there were times i wanted to send Something,  but i couldn't.  It had to be Found,  her way,  fragments found/scavenged on walks,  left behind,  along railroad tracks,  paths through city woodlands.    And here it is.   Along a barren landscape,  under walnuts.   I'll wash it and send.   I have no idea what she's doing now.  Going back and reading through her archives is a joyful thing.  You might want to do that.