Strong but Warm.
Tay and i worked OutSide. Chinche watched. First to make order for the latest Half Ton Bale of Alfalfa that was delivered mid morning, and then distributing the scrap feed and manure bedding to different parts of this Place. Digging slightly to see what's happened in the composts. Checking again to see if the Native Plums from last year's planting are REALLY? still alive? and yes, they are. So Giving Water for good measure even with that snow. Deep slow water. Clean and fill Goat Water Bowls. All the while, i am trying to find Something and i don't even know what it is i'm trying to find. It's a way of ummm, being what i'm doing?, being All of It? The doer, the done to, the Whole that includes all of it? I really don't know. Not just how to "say" it, but really, exactly what i'm trying to find. I'll know it if i Find it.
Sort of, it was like when i was taking the evening feed to that Way Back Fence. I bring it in the wheelbarrow from the Albatros. Then lift it over the fencegate into that first bowl which gets piled high. Then i go through the house and out the back door and distribute it to all 5 bowls. It's a routine that never varies. Today, WIND was strong and in long long breaths before a slight pause. The feed goes over the gate directly into It's Push, so i was waiting for one of those pauses to drop it down and there wasn't a pause, so i closed my eyes, feeling it in my face, listening to it's sound, feeling and listening and there was no pause so i opened my eyes to just go for it and there ringed tight against the bowl were Artica, Onday and Oona, close close and then all the rest, quite close and they were rivited on my face, their lips slightly opened showing just a bit of their bottom teeth. They were staring, their gazes locked on my face. I laughed and commented on their beautiful teeth and dropped the feed and continued. But, it's something like that sequence of moments that i am looking for. How to live Inside That.
in this large flat basket i'd put a three ceramic bowls with small scraps. Thinking Tazmeena would be daunted, but no. This morning it's where Sun was and she layed on top of the bowls. And so i put yet another large piece of cloth over those scraps, which kind of ruins my visual aesthetic, but keeps them hairless. She was unhappy.
and when downloading that pic of her i saw this just behind the basket. I've never read it. So maybe now's the time?
The Apricot Tree. Only that single branch facing west is dead. Not as i had feared.
The two blades of Grass stitched in place. The weight, the "drape" of the cloth is WonderFULL. It has become Heavy with stitches…that feeling….the Substance of it, the well, substance of it.
windthread 
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